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harringtonspolaroids · 3 years ago

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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝟔 | 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞

a/n: this took me so long to finish but i hope the length makes up for it! also if you cant tell i started listening to tosotd near the end so yas ig? this is also not proofread so enjoy

word count: 3359

warnings: slightly toxic relationship? some angst? not rly tho; bad characterization and development; allegations to billy's abuse but not rly; a twinge of misogyny; cursing; mentions of sex but no smut; a happy ending but im 100% going to make it angsty next time so; underage drinking

relationships: billy hargrove x reader; steve harrington x reader except not really y/n is mean to him tho; platonic! nancy wheeler x reader

It had been raining when Billy had shown up to your house the first night.

You hadn’t been doing much, after all it wasn’t even ten, until you heard the knock on your door. Fixing up your nightgown you opened the door, and there he stood. Billy. Except, he didn’t look like himself. He was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Billy mumbled as he stepped past you inside. “Do you have something to clean this with?”

“I can try to find something, just… sit down.”

Billy absentmindedly nodded as he sat on the far edge of your couch, his leg bouncing impatiently.

You searched through the nearest closet until you found a random first aid kit you had bought several years ago. Taking out a gauze and saline you sat down next to Billy, holding his face in your hand.

Billy hissed as you applied the cool liquid on the cut.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Are you gonna tell me how you got this?”

“I got in a fight.”

“With who?

“I dunno. Some guy in the alley.”

“Billy. Look at me.”

Billy finally shifted his gaze towards you. “Like I said. Some guy in the alley. He was acting like an asshole. It wasn’t even that bad. He ended up worse.”

“Who started it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“B-”

“Look, I came here, because I figured you wouldn’t ask questions. Jesus, if I wanted this I would just gone to the police station. Can you please just- hurry and finish this.”

You could feel like he was lying. His eyes were shifty and he was avoiding your gaze. Still, you didn’t press.

“I’m done.”

You looked into his eyes, trying to find some warmth in them but it was gone. It surprised you how quickly he could change from such a sweet, caring guy to… whatever this was.

“Do you want to stay?”

“I’m good.”

Billy stood up, ready to leave as quickly as he had arrived.

You grabbed after Billy’s hand, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Billy pulled away from you and grabbed his jacket, leaving once again.

This was only the first of several times.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Once again your relationship with Billy was a mess. You would hook up, talk about whatever meaningless things were on your mind (most of it being shit talking the people at school), and leave, letting you feel even more in love. Then he would randomly show up to your house for you to do your best to comfort him after the dozens of fights he got into, only to ignore you for a day or two until he needed you. It was exhausting.

“What are we?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,'' What are we? Or am I not allowed to ask that question too.” You leaned against the brick wall behind the gym, where you and Billy had just “coincidentally” met, and waited expectantly for his answer.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you take me, sometimes, on dates. And we hook up. But you also don’t want me around you. So what is that supposed to mean?”

“Like I said I don’t know.”

“Do you even like me?”

“Yes- no, I mean, define like.”

“So you do like me! You just don’t have the guts to say it. Who would’ve guessed?”

“It’s not that, it’s- I don’t know what we are yet, okay? Why do we even have to put a name on it, Christ, you’re… fun and smart and I like talking to you.”

“You know what, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, without adding just a twinge of some disgusting remark.”

Billy scoffed and stepped closer to you. “As if you don’t like it.”

“And so you ruined it.” You let out a quick laugh, a plan of sorts starting to form in your mind. “So… if we aren’t anything, then you wouldn’t mind if I maybe went with Steve to the Fall Break party this week, would you?”

“And why would you do that when I’m right here, doll?”

“Maybe you’re getting a little boring.”

“I highly doubt that.”

You pulled Billy closer to you, fiddling with his collar of his half buttoned shirt. “Just think about it. It’ll be a fun… game for us. ”

“This isn’t like you at all.”

You shrugged, smoothing out the wrinkles on Billy’s top. “Maybe. But someone’s gotta keep having major mood swings too, right?”

You turned, walking back towards the school. All you could hope was that Billy would get the hint.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“So… we’re good?”

You put on the sweetest face you could manage and leaned closer to Steve, “Of course we are silly. I could never be that mad at you.” You were just lying through your teeth at this point. You didn’t care about Steve. You cared about Billy. And you were willing to do whatever it took to get his eyes back on you.

“That’s awesome! You know, I kinda thought you had a thing for that jerk but I knew you’d come to your senses soon enough. Want me to walk you to class?” Steve gave you a crooked smile, his hand reaching for your shoulder. You immediately shrugged him off, ignoring the first part of his sentence. “No thanks. Let’s just try to keep this… private. You aren't exactly high on the social ladder, so to speak.”

“Oh,” Steve’s smile faded. You had forgotten how whiney he could be sometimes. God knows how many times you had deluded yourself into thinking you liked him.

“I’ll see you later though, at my place, for the party. Got it?”

Steve gave a weak nod and you stood up from your chair, you were ready to leave this awkward hellhole. Careful to check no one was there, you exited the library. This party had to be one of your best.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You felt Nancy’s eyes on the back of your head as you applied the final layer of polish on your nails. You had invited her over, as sort of a peace treaty, before the party. You two had a type of truce going on. You weren’t exactly the bestest friends you used to be but you didn’t hate each other.

“So what's with you and Jonathan?” You asked in an attempt to spark a conversation.

“Oh, um, we’re just friends.”

“You sure about that?”

“Of course! Why would you think it was anything more?”

You turned around from your spot on your desk to meet Nancy’s eyes. “Hellooo, have you seen the way he looks at you? He gets all like puppy dog eyed.”

“Shut up he does not!” Nancy was starting to turn red at your comments. “If anything, we should talk about you going out with Billy!”

“I am not going out with Billy-”

“Oh you so are, everyone knows-”

“They do not because there is nothing to know in the first place!”

“They do! Please, he’s always looking for you in the hall and he’s always giving Steve shit about you.”

“Really?”

Nancy slid off the bed to sit next to you on your loveseat. “Uhhh, yeah! C’mon you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I haven’t!”

“You’re lying! Look at me.”

You gave Nancy the most deadpan look you could manage and she snorted. “You’re kidding right? He even asked me about you once.”

“What? When? What did you say?” If you were honest you thought Billy hadn’t even remembered that you had told him you and Nancy were friends.

“He asked on like the first day, in Chemistry. He sits behind me and he asked me if I knew who you were. I just said you were, like, a cheerleader. I didn’t give him much.” Nancy gave you an awkward smile.

You let out a sigh of relief. Nancy hadn’t been a bitch and Billy hadn’t tried anything with her. “That’s not too bad.”

“Yeah.”

After a pause, you felt like you were about to burst. You had to tell someone. “I’ve been hooking up with Billy for like 2 weeks now.”

“Excuse me? Y/N you’re- are you serious? I thought you just like flirted with him, I was totally joking, you’re actually sleeping with him? Do you have any idea- I-”

You flashed Nancy a stiff smile, you’re voice getting tenser as you spoke, “What it’s not like a crime, he's a good lay, and it’s nothing major it’s just that, no emotions or feelings involved whatsoever, it’s not like I care about him and he cares about me, right? Right?”

Nancy stared at you, her mouth open. “Y/N… does Steve know?”

You groaned and leaned on her shoulder, “No, he thinks I don’t even like him. Nance, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.” You moved away from her to look her in the eyes.

Nancy grabbed your hand, “I swear I won’t tell anyone, okay? You can trust me.”

“Good.”

You had missed having a best friend, someone you could rely on. Even though you couldn’t open up to Nancy completely, you could at least tell her some things, and that had to count for something.

Just as Nancy started to ask you a question the doorbell rang. You turned to look at the clock, it was already 8. The time you had promised Carol and the group you could start pregaming.

“Shit. You wanna stay up here until it’s time or?”

Nancy nodded, “I don’t really want to see them and I don’t think your friends really want to see me either.”

“Okay.” You stood up, squeezing Nancy’s hand for some reassurance. You heard Tina’s scratchy voice yelling at you from downstairs, telling you to hurry up. Hopefully the party won't leave your house completely in ruins.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You feigned interest as Steve talked to you about his day. You were in the most “isolated” corner you could find, though you still felt cramped. You weren't paying much attention to the boy in front of you, you were more focused on what Billy was saying that made some girl laugh so hard. The guy was fun, but not that much.

“I’m gonna tell him- Y/N- Y/N/N, hello are you here?”

You looked back at Steve, his face scrunching up in annoyance. “Did you even hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, you were, uh, talking about the basketball team right?”

“Uh huh. Coach is thinking of benching and so, what I’m going to tell him is to-”

You smiled and nodded once again, as you started to tune out Steve, barely hearing what he had to say. The girl seemed to be having the time of her life with Billy and you were stuck with option number two. The whole point of this game was for you to make Billy jealous, not the other way around.

“Hey, I’m going to get a drink, why don’t you go mingle for a bit, I’ll be right back,” you interrupted.

“Sure, I’ll see you in a few.”

You gave Steve a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping Billy would notice, as you walked over to the kitchen, taking a shot of who knows what, that was laid out on the table.

You scanned the area around you until you found Tina laughing with some guy on the football team. The moment she noticed you watching her, she stopped and went over to you.

“What’s going on?”

“Do you know her?” you motioned to the girl who was now resting a hand on Billy’s shoulder, leaning onto him on the couch.

“Oh, her? That’s Heather Holloway. She's in my Math class. What about her?”

“What’s her fucking deal? Who does she even think she is?”

“I don’t know, I think her dad’s like the owner of the newspaper or whatever.”

“You got any dirt on her?”

“Uhhh, no. But- I can try to find some things about her.”

“Good. Come find me if things escalate between them”

You found another shot glass and drank it, leaving Tina. You moved throughout the bodies in the room, unsure of where exactly you were planning on going. Jesus christ this party was gonna be a horrible mess to clean up.

Rolling your eyes at Carol and Tommy making out in a corner, you spotted Nancy holding a water bottle, and went straight to her.

“You’re not drinking?”

Nancy looked back up at you, shaking her head, “After Halloween, I don’t think I’m ever gonna be in the mood for alcohol ever again. What’s wrong with you? Is this not fun?”

“It is- it’s just exhausting, y’know. I just wanted to ask you something.”

Nancy shot you a smile, “Spill.”

“Would you mind if I got back together with Steve?”

“I thought you were into Billy-”

“It’s hard to explain but I just need Steve for a-”

“A scheme? Y/N/N you can’t just play with people’s emotions, it's wrong and you know that.”

“I’m willing to face the consequences, Nance. Trust me, it’s gonna work out, I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t need my permission. If you want to date Steve, that's your issue. I won’t be mad.” Nancy looked worried, like she always did whenever you came up with a plan. “Just- please don’t get in trouble.”

You gave her a tight smile, “I won’t.”

You left Nancy, figuring enough time had passed for you to go look for Steve.

You found Steve wallowing against the stairs, paying attention to Jonathan who seemingly just showed up. You were so giddy with anticipation of how you were going to win in the end that even he couldn’t even annoy you. And just in luck for you, Steve was just within eyesight of Billy and Heather.

You grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him closer to you, making sure you made a show out of it. “What are you doing right now?”

“Uhhh… nothing waiting for- for you, why-” Steve looked around nervously.

You cradle his face in your hands pulling him closer to you. “How about you do me?”

“Jesus, Y/N-”

You smiled and kissed Steve’s jaw stopping to turn around, acting as if you were shy, when in reality you were trying to spot Billy. And you did find him. Heather was trying to practically sit on his lap, all while Billy was glaring daggers at you. But you didn’t mind. If Billy said you weren’t a couple and he could flirt with other girls, then you could be with Steve. After all, isn’t all fair in love and war?

“C’mon” you nipped at Steve’s ear. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do now.” You had never lied more than you were now.

You giggled as you grabbed Steve’s hand and walked him upstairs heading to your bedroom.

The moment you shoved him on your bed you heard a knock at your door.

“It’s busy!”

The knocking remained. “I said, I’m busy!” You yelled back. Of course the universe wanted to stop you now that everything was finally falling into place.

“Just ignore them-”

“Shut up Steve.”

You got off Steve, and walked to the door, opening it up to a stressed looking Tina. “Did you not hear me? I said, I’m busy. Unless it’s an emergency, I don’t want to hear it.

“It’s Holloway. She’s trying to convince him to ditch.”

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Tina moved away from you, trying to not get in your way.

You turned to look at Steve, “I have to go. Sorry!” Steve only gave you a half hearted smile.

At least you didn’t hook up with him. You shoved Tina to the side as you walked downstairs, hoping maybe you could spot Billy and Heather leaving so you could chew him out for it later. Instead you stumbled into him right as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Why are you leaving him so soon? Could Stevie not get it up or did he finish too quickly for you?” Billy snickered, he was practically rubbing it in your face now. You thought his reaction would’ve been more different.

“Oh you are in no position to be talking right now, how could you?”

“How could I what?”

“Heather? Really? That bitch?”

“What did she do to you?”

“More like what didn't' she do! Why would you hook up with her?”

“Did you forget you were about to fuck Harrington?”

“You knew I would have never.”

Billy snorted, “Of course you wouldn’t have. The same way I wouldn’t have hooked up with Heather.”

“You are so frustrating! Why don’t you just leave like you were planning on?”

“So that girl was eavesdropping on me!”

You rolled your eyes at his comments.

“C’mon, I thought you wanted a break.”

“And I thought you wanted to date me, so I guess we were both wrong,” You spat. Sure, you were pissed at Billy and Heather but you were mostly mad at yourself. You hated how Nancy was right that this was going to fail and you hated how now, Steve probably thought you were after him.

“I’m going to take a breather. Maybe you should just leave me alone.”

“Y/N-”

You moved past Billy and left the party, heading straight to your car. You didn’t know where you were going to go, but you figured anywhere was better than here.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It looked like a thunderstorm was about to happen. You tugged on the sleeves of your cashmere sweater trying to let your thoughts drift away from the party. It had been three days since the Fall Party. You didn’t want to call what happened between you and Billy a fight but it sure felt like it. He hadn’t called, or shown up to talk to you, and you ignored him as well. You had told him to leave you when all you really wanted was him yet you just had to self sabotage. You rested your head against the cold window of your bedroom, trying to let the pitter patter of the rain lull you to sleep, when you heard a harder tap on your window, that was certainly not the rain. You ignored it for a few seconds until it started to annoy you, and so you looked down the window seeing a sight you didn’t expect.

You opened the window quickly rambling“What the hell are you doing- are you insane? You’re going to freeze out there! Why didn’t you just knock-”

“Look I just want to talk- can we just do that?”

You slammed the window shut and ran down your staircase opening the door. Billy stood there, his jacket soaking wet from the pouring rain. You immediately reached for him, getting him inside. You crossed your arms as you spoke, “You could get a cold B, that’s not.. safe.”

“We’ve done worse things.”

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“Excuse me?” Billy was a lot of things, but he was not the type to admit his mistakes.

“I don’t like it when we… argue. I was mad. I don’t want to see you with Harrington.”

“And I don't want to see you with Heather.”

“I swear, I don’t like her. She was just the first chick who came up to me.”

“Billy-”

“Look, I- I have a lot fucked up shit going on. I don’t want to get you involved.”

“But I want to be involved. You should be able to trust me.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“And I won’t.” You stepped closer to Billy holding his hand in your face. “No matter what happens, if you let me, I’ll be here for you.”

Billy stared at you with those deep blue eyes of his. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

For the first time, Billy didn’t say anything, he just pulled you into a hug. There was nothing vulgar about it. It was just sweet, something that you had longed for. You held each other like that for god knows how much. You knew you loved him, and you hoped he could know that without needing you to say it.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagines #partners by blairwritesthings #run on sentences? i hardly know her

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hunterofthemist · 3 years ago

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Strength of the Meek

Carrying a paper bag Dave walks into the cafeteria. He looks around the room and sees Kotzal waving him over. He walks over to him and sits down with Kotzal at a noticeably empty table.

"Hey Dave, how are you?" Kotzal asks with a grin. "You dont have to rub it in, I had no idea you were a natural," Dave grumbles.

"It's just that when you showed me the rules I realized how similar they were to a game I used to play on Geon. Thrum If I remember correctly." Kotzal and dave talk for some time, the topic changes quickly from poker to physical ability.

"How strong are humans anyway? I've seen your movies but you said they aren't a good representation of human strength." Kotzal asks intrigued.

"Were strong enough. Enough to take down something bigger than us, at least with some planning that is." Dave answers. "I mean back when humans still dwelled in caves we took down wooly mammoths, which were beasts around three times the size of a human."

"Oh, I didn't know that. It's pretty impressive to hear." Kotzal says more than intrigued at this point.

"What about when a human has to do something impossible, just to keep the ones they care about alive. What do you do then?" He asks, his face getting a bit more solemn.

"We push on, do whatever it takes, even if it means we tear ourselves apart doing so," Dave says with a look of sincerity. He then breaks the look and smiles warmly. "What's got you asking a question like that?"

Kotzal laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head. "I dont know, I just heard stories over the Ether."

The conversation ends as the buzzer goes off on everyone's watch. "Shit thought we had more time for lunch break. That blows." Dave sighs.

Dave and Kotzal start walking down a hallway towards their respective stations. Halfway towards Dave's station, the alarm sounds, as well as an explosion in a nearby hallway.

"What was that!" Kotzal panics, immediately hiding behind dave and shaking. Dave reacts accordingly, not to the explosion but to Kotzal hiding behind him. "Woah dude, you good?"

"Oh sorry, my species is a prey species on my home planet. We get jumpy when stuff like this happens."

Dave chuckles at the thought, "you know if you did this around the others im pretty sure they wouldn't be able to see you." His attention focuses back on the sound. " We should go check out what happened, we're engineers after all."

Kotzal steps out from behind dave nervously and agrees. They walk down the hallway towards the commotion. Smoke billows out of the walls, embers pour out of the holes as well.

A hulking beast pulls its way out of the hole, it had to be around 8 and a half feet tall. Just as dave gets a look at it, several more come out of the walls. Kotzal grabs dave and pulls him around the corner, away from the beasts.

"Get down! Those are Tarvok pirates. We need to go, we do Not want to pick a fight with those." Kotzal is freaking out, likely having a panic attack. He tries to pull Dave with him. Dave doesn't budge, instead, he stares at the wall and puts his hand on it. "I cant."

Kotzal gets more anxious and frenzied, pulling harder on Dave. "No We have to go, David dont do this." In response, Dave grins and puts his head on the cold metal wall. "I said I cant, This station is my baby. I've fixed her more than anyone else. I can't leave her."

Dave turns to Kotzal and continues. "Not to mention the number of people these guys could hurt. You know how far the nearest guard post is, and how understaffed it is. If I turn tail and run countless people will die. But If I distract them, buy us some time. Maybe I can save a few lives."

"But you'll die! You'll get killed, I can't have you do that. I can't lose you, You're the only one who even respects me, let alone is nice to me." He says as tears start to form in his four eyes.

Daves grin breaks and he pulls Kotzal into a hug, Kotzal's small stature causing him to look like a small child not wanting their parent to leave. "That's not happening. I ain't gonna die." Dave thinks for a moment and goes on. "How about you help me, I dont buy this scared child Schtick. There's something there, something strong. I can see that."

Dave breaks the hug and pulls a knife from his belt, and hands it over to him. Kotzal stares at the blade for a second and takes the knife and nods in agreement. "Use your speed and stature to your advantage. there's a lot of smoke, try to use that."

Dave and total talk for a minute discussing plans and strategies after they're done he grabs a pipe on the wall and rips it off, but not before speaking to the station itself. "Sorry about this."

Walking around the corner Dave bangs the pipe on the wall, getting the army of Tarvok's attention. "Hey you brutes, eyes on me." He says, resting the pipe on his shoulder.

One of the Tarvok's starts walking over to Dave with a look of hunger and anger. Dave grins, this being a part of his plan, and stomps on a jagged and sharp piece of metal, launching it into the air. To which Kotzal leaves cover from behind Dave and grabs the piece of metal and throws it into the eye of the Tarvok.

"See, I told you no one would be able to see you back there." Dave jokes. He takes a step forward and inspects the now corpse of the Tarvok. "Oh damn, straight into the eye." Kotzal meekly responds to the compliment. "Thanks, it was heavier than Im used to so I didn't think it hit where I wanted to."

"You're a good shot, keep it up." Dave compliments. For a split second, Dave swore he could see Kotzal's cheeks turn blue.

Dave starts walking forward towards the rest of the army, beckoning them to come to fight him. One soldier takes a step forward to fight. The hulking beast throws a punch towards Dave but he sides steps it and slams his weapon into a pipe next to the Tarvok.

The soldier notices this and started to laugh but a second later the pipe bursts and hot steam starts to burn the soldier and causing it to fall to the floor.

The next one rushes Dave and throws a punch at him, he absorbs the blow into his shoulder and uses the force to spin himself around and slam the pipe into the soldier's skull.

At the display of force, the rest of the Tarvok's take a step back from the carnage. "Hey Kotzal, I think I fucked my shoulder up. It's your turn. " Dave says quietly so the brutes in front of them won't hear. "Yeah, let's do it." He responds, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

Dave starts to run towards the group of Tarvok's with Kotzal following. Before he gets too close he ducks down and arches his back and Kotzal jumps off his back and launches himself toward the enemy.

With one hand he throws a sharp piece of metal in the neck of one of the soldiers and with the other he stabs another with the knife Dave gave him.

The last one is in front of them, he's bigger than the rest. Probably the leader. "Let me handle this one," Dave says as he blocks Kotzal from moving forward with the pipe.

Looking at the pipe in his hand, Dave realizes that the pipe is way too damaged to continue to be useful. He takes a step forward and throws the thing as hard as he can. The pipe flies through the air and when it's about to hit, the leader catches it.

As soon as he threw the pipe Dave started running towards the beast but only noticed that he caught the pipe when he was too close to do anything. The Leader propels his knee into Daves's gut, the spike on it spearing into dave.

"Oh fuck!" He screams as the spike goes through him. He falls back and tries to stop the bleeding. Another scream is heard, not of pain but rage. "You Fucker!" It's Kotzal, with the look of pure rage in his eyes.

"I'll kill you!" He screams as he starts running towards him. As he reaches him he jumps at the leader to get a clear shot at him. In retaliation, the Tarvok grabs him by the neck and holds him in the air. Kotzal doesn't seem to notice, the anger blinding him. He starts slashing wildly at the beast in front of him, a good majority hitting their targets.

Kotzal gets a good stab into the arm of the beast holding him, causing him to be dropped.

While on the ground he stabs the blade into the back of the knee of the Tarvok leader making him fall to his knees, lining him up for a stab to the side of his head, killing him.

He keeps stabbing the now dead Tarvok, more out of rage than him being unsure he's dead. After a few dozen stabs he stops and takes a second to breathe and remembers Dave. He turns around and sprints towards Dave.

He starts trying to help him staunch the bleeding and stabilize him. "No, no-no-no. Dont do this, you cant." He starts tearing up trying to help him.

"It's okay, you did well. Didn't expect the fucker to catch the pipe. I think this is it" Dave says as he rests on the wall, trying to do whatever he can to stop the bleeding.

"Dont say that! You'll be fine, I know what im doing. I can help you." Kotzal says frantically.

Dave looks at him and puts his bloodied hand on his shoulder. "You can't save me, an injury like this is impossible to fix up."

"Shut up!" Kotzals shouts as he slaps dave. "We aren't in the medical dark ages, You know how strong modern medicine is." a grin forms on Daves face as he shrugs. "Whatever you say," he says as his vision fades to black and passes out.

Daves eyes open and the bright light blinds him, "hey your awake." a familiar voice says. His eyes adjust to the light and he sees that Kotzal is sitting on the chair next to his bed.

Dave groans in pain as he tries to sit up. Kotzal puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him. "Dumbass, you can adjust the bed." He laughs, handing him the switch.

"How long was I out?" He asks as he raises the head of his bed. "About two days. You had us worried for a little while." Kotzal responds with a smile.

"You can't kill me that easily, its gonna take a lot more than that, I still have work to do here." He smiles back.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Kotzal asks. "The engines been making a thunking noise for the past week, I still figure out what the hell the problem is." They both start laughing for a minute and after they stop a silence is formed between them, which is promptly broken ten seconds later by dave. "Hey after they discharge me, do you wanna go to the bar and get a few drinks? I'll buy."

"Sure thing, I'd love to."

#Aliens #humans are terrifying #humans are space orcs #writing #MY OCs #my wrtiting #oc #oc character #frienship #sci-fi #writerscommunity

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elentiyawhitethorn · 4 years ago

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Sneaking Around | Chapter Six

Aelin clicked on Rowan’s contact. want to get out of here? She made sure to keep her phone angled away from Manon, who was smirking next to her.

A moment later, he responded. I thought you’d never ask.

you’re not still pissy about me judo flipping you?

I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ll just have to get you back for it. Aelin blushed at the implications.

“What, is your sweet boyfriend sexting you?” Aelin had almost forgotten Manon was there.

“Shut up.” we’ll see about that

I’ll leave now. You come in a few minutes.

alright

You sure you remember where I live?

yeah, i think so

Aelin heard Rowan’s voice distantly saying he was off. Not wanting Manon to put it together, she started speaking. “So, you don’t mind if I ditch you?”

“And have you spend the night lusting after some dude? No thanks.”

“You’re one to talk. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve gone to gay bars as your wingwoman.”

“That was only a few times and I am grateful, but I still get to tease you. It’s my job. Shouldn’t you be leaving now?”

“So anxious to lose my delightful presence?” Manon rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m off now.”

They walked into the living room to find Rowan already gone and Vaughan on his way out. Good, that would be a little less suspicious if several people were leaving. Aedion and Lysandra had rejoined the group. Manon said, “Aelin’s headed out to her secret boyfriend’s place, so looks like I’m stuck with you losers.” Yes, Manon was very genteel.

Everyone tried to get her to spill, but Aelin just said, “See you Monday.” Then she flipped them off as she walked out the door.

The drive was short, but Aelin was jittery, desperate to get her hands on Rowan. And she had unintentionally memorized his address.

She walked up the stairs to the second floor quickly. Aelin lacked the patience for an elevator ride right now.

Upon reaching the landing, she caught sight of Rowan leaning against the wall next to his open door. “You certainly got here quickly. So eager to-”

Aelin cut him off with a hungry kiss. His lips began to move against hers and he grabbed her, pulling her into his apartment. Rowan kicked the door closed, then pinned her to it. He used one hand to lock the door and the other to unzip her jeans. She grinded against his hand, bucking her hips forward.

Rowan pulled down her jeans, waited for Aelin to step out of them, then picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Aelin shrieked as he carried her to his bedroom.

“That’s what you get for judo flipping me.” The damned bastard was chuckling.

He tossed her on the bed, then swiftly unclothed himself. Rowan looked up to find Aelin had done the same, and was now lying seductively on his bed. She let her legs spread.

Rowan, panting now, climbed on top of her. She moaned as his hips pressed against hers. Neither one of them could get enough of the other. Both of their hands were roving accross the other’s body. Aelin’s tongue parted his lips.

Her hand drifted down to caress him, and Rowan groaned. He let Aelin push him off of her then move down to take him in her mouth. Rowan moaned Aelin’s name. Yes, she could get used to this.

Light was streaming through the curtained window. Aelin awoke to find Rowan’s arm around her. She was pressed into his side, fitting like a glove.

Aelin gently slid out of his grasp, then put on his shirt from the night before. It was so large, she nearly drowned in it.

Then she walked out to the kitchen. If he was going to carry her around like a sack of meat, she would feel no qualms about raiding his fridge.

Rowan walked out ten minutes later in another pair of sweatpants to find Aelin dressed in his t-shirt, devouring a bowl of cereal. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he said sarcastically.

“Thank you, I will,” replied Aelin. “Though I’m rather disappointed to find all this health junk. You need to buy some Fruit Loops.”

Rowan smirked. “Planning on eating breakfast here often?”

Aelin blushed. “Just in case.”

Rowan poured himself a bowl of the “health junk.” “Well, I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Aelin blinked, then smiled.

“Did you ladies really sign up for mixed martial arts?” he asked.

Aelin laughed. “Yes. Lys and I had been taking it for a while, and we convinced the others to join. And I still can’t believe you bet against me!”

“How was I supposed to know you’re a fucking ninja?”

Aelin laughed again, louder this time. “I like that almost as much as fire-breathing bitch-queen.”

“That was meant to be an insult when I came up with it.”

“That makes it even better.”

Aelin hadn’t felt so happy in a long while. They finished breakfast, then Aelin said she should leave.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Aelin asked.

“You should stay. It’s still the weekend.”

Aelin’s heart raced. “And if I were to stay, what would we be doing?”

Rowan’s sultry smile was answer enough.

Aelin pulled up at her apartment just past six o’clock. She had totally lost track of time, though she didn’t regret it. Rowan had spent the better part of the afternoon coaxing noises from her she didn’t even know she could make.

Upon entering, Aelin found Ansel at the table eating Chinese takeout. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back,” she said with a raised brow. “I got extra in case you did.” Ansel gestured to the other container of Chinese.

Aelin replied, “Thanks. I need to change first.” She was still wearing last night’s outfit. Again. This was becoming a habit.

When Aelin came back out in a t-shirt and yoga pants and sat at the table, Ansel just looked at her. Stared, like she was seeing deep into her soul.

“Okay, you’re going to have to stop that. It’s freaky,” Aelin stated.

Ansel sighed. “I’m working on my tell-me-all-of-your-secrets stare. Ugh, just fess up, will you?”

Aelin tried not to laugh. “No. Stop prying.”

“I know I blab a lot, but if I swear not to tell a soul, will you at least answer, like, some minor questions? I have nothing else to do with my life.”

Ansel looked so pathetic that Aelin hesitated. “If you won’t tell anyone, you may ask some things. I might not answer, though.”

Ansel immediately brightened. “Great. Okay, I’m assuming his name is a no. Mm, do you like like him?”

Aelin could only imagine if Ansel went and told the others, including Rowan, that she liked the dude. That would be humiliating. Ansel wouldn’t break her word, though. “Yes,” she answered firmly, surprising herself. She realized she did like Rowan a lot, though.

Ansel smiled. “Interesting. I can only assume he works at the office because of your secrecy, not to mention hooking up with him at an office party. Do I know him?”

Most everyone from the office went to the bar; this wasn’t a revealing question. “Probably.” Okay, definitely, but whatever.

“Is he good in bed?”

“Gods, Manon asked the same question. You perverts. Yes, he is very good in bed.” Aelin was tiring of the interrogation and also started to get nervous she might reveal something. “I’m done with the probing now. Want to watch Grease?” The two of them lived for old movies. They had seen Grease about a dozen times already. She knew the offer would be enough to get Ansel off her back.

“Sure. I’m not done with you, though.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. Then they spent the evening watching movies and gossiping about their friends. Luckily, Ansel seemed to have dropped the subject of the secret boyfriend for the night.

Yes, it could be troublesome to deal with her friends’ inclination to snoop, but she and Rowan would tell them if it got serious. Was it heading in that direction? At first Aelin had thought the attraction was purely sexual, but then they talked and laughed he made her heart flutter and Aelin wasn’t so sure anymore. The only question was whether Rowan felt the same about her.

Out of pure desperation, Aelin pulled out her phone. help im bored.

If Rowan was the type to use emojis, he surely would have sent an eye roll. He wasn’t though, and he annoyingly wouldn’t stop using correct grammar and punctuation. Prick. Only a minute after Aelin texted him, Rowan replied, What’s Ansel doing? Is she still at Fenrys’?

she’s currently laying on my lap sound asleep. not before finishing the fried rice though

Poor thing. Aelin could feel the sarcasm oozing out of that text. What do you want me to do about it?

be entertaining. tell a joke or something. im lonely

You’re a very needy person.

i am not

You certainly were today. Aelin blushed at that.

tell me rowan whitethorn is not sending me dirty texts! i should block you or something

Needy and overdramatic. No surprise there.

you need to work on your flattery skills

Fine, then, Your Majesty. You are the most genteel, sensitive, kind, and respectful person I have ever met. Please accept my sincerest apologies. Aelin snorted at this.

*sigh* you could at least try to say something accurate like awesome or fascinating or something. we all know im not nice

How true.

stop bullying me. ask me on a date

Is that an order?

yes

Would you like to go on a date with me?

hmm... i’ll have to think about it

Why do I even bother?

because im irresistible

I’m going to sleep now. Work tomorrow. You should too.

night

Goodnight.

Rowan was right; she should get some sleep. Even if she wanted to text him all night.

“Ansel, up.” Aelin poked her on the forehead. “I can’t get up with you snoring on my lap.”

Ansel was nearly impossible to rouse. Aelin settled the matter by shoving her off onto the floor, which earned her a severe scolding.

In bed, Aelin couldn’t stop thinking about Rowan. It got to the point where she couldn’t help but shove her hand under the waistband of her yoga pants, getting off with the help of the thought of his capable fingers.

Great. Now Aelin was just praying she wasn’t going to start blushing and batting her eyelashes at him. She wondered if he was thinking about her as he touched himself. Probably not. He was probably asleep, untroubled by thoughts of her.

Rowan Whitethorn was distracting Aelin from... well... everything. Maybe if she tried thinking about when they hated each other. Or when she judo flipped him. Yes, think of beating him up.

How was Aelin going to handle work tomorrow, being able to see him but not touch him? Rowan Whitethorn. Damn him.

#rowaelin #tog #sneaking around #my writing

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rmtndew · 5 years ago

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All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 4

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0-blog, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

I woke the next morning ten minutes before my alarm went off. At first I couldn’t figure out why and tried burrowing back into my warm bed to get my last few minutes of sleep back, but then my phone alerted me to a new text and I realized that’s what had woken me up. I sighed. I knew it was Darcy. Sometimes she woke up early with big ideas for her store and texted them to me, asking my opinion. She met me when I was working in interior design and any time she entertained the idea of having a dine in section, she’d send me pictures of what she wanted and ask how feasible it would be. Most of the time they were way too grand to fit into her pre-existing building. Other times she’d talk about a small coffee shop to encourage more people to come in and pick up their own orders and cut back on our deliveries. But I couldn’t see how renovating a portion of the store, buying new equipment and hiring extra employees to run a coffee shop would lower costs just by maybe cutting back on some deliveries.

I was planning on ignoring the text until after I’d actually gotten up, but when another came through I knew it was best to just go ahead and nip it in the bud before she sent me an entire magazine’s worth of photos. But when I hit the home button on my phone I saw that the texts hadn’t come from Darcy. I had to squint against the brightness of the screen to make sure I saw the name right. Marshall.

I sat up and turned on my lamp, then looked at my phone again, reading the texts from their previews.

Hey, it’s Marshall. I had a great time yesterday. Sorry I was falling asleep on you. Can I make it up to you this weekend?

Sorry. You’re probably sleeping. It might take more than coffee to make it up to you now. Dinner?

I suddenly felt wide awake and was no longer irritated by my few minutes of missed sleep. I would have gladly given up several hours for those texts. I decided not to reply to them right then, though. I wanted to make sure I’d had enough coffee to formulate a comprehensible reply and not look like I was drunk texting him, which I had a history of. My conversations with Darcy at five in the morning were proof of that.

I got up and went about my morning routine like usual, trying not to wake Mom. When I made my way downstairs, I poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table. I sipped it, thinking about what to say to Marshall. I wrote and rewrote the text half a dozen times before finally having something I felt okay with, then I sent it.

Hey Marshall. I had a great time, too. You don’t have to make up for anything but I’d still like to have dinner with you. What day did you have in mind?

My heart was thudding from nerves and excitement. I was so focused on trying to calm myself down that I almost didn’t hear Mom when she walked in.

“Morning, sweetie,” she said, grabbing a coffee cup.

“Good morning,” I replied, then jumped slightly as my phone vibrated on the table. I tried not to look too enthusiastic as I grabbed it.

Does Saturday work for you?

“Darcy again?” Mom asked, pouring coffee for herself.

“Um...no, actually.” I tried biting back a smile but it didn’t work. “It’s Marshall.”

Her eyes went wide and she smiled back. “He’s writing to you at six in the morning?”

“He actually wrote me earlier. He asked if I wanted to have dinner with him Saturday.”

She sat down at the table beside me. “What did you tell him?”

“I haven’t replied yet. I don’t want him to think I’m just waiting by the phone for him.”

She looked at the phone in my hand. “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing, though?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t have to know it.”

She laughed then blew on her coffee. “I’m glad this whole texting business wasn’t around when I was dating your father.”

“Even if it was, you’re a lot more forward than I am. You wouldn’t have had a single issue with texting Dad first, or answering him right away,” I said. My phone made another sound, reminding me of my unread text and I finally opened it, then replied.

Saturday is perfect. What time would you like to meet?

“Well, there was only room enough for one coy person in our relationship and Rodger called that role,” Mom said after I put my phone down.

I laughed. “I don’t think ‘coy’ was the right word for Dad. I think socially awkward was more appropriate.”

“He was too smart to be a social butterfly, too. He had to have a couple of flaws.”

“He couldn’t set the timer for the coffee pot, no matter how many times I showed him, and he thought that the Sharknado movies were amazing. He had his flaws,” I joked.

“This coffee pot is confusing.”

“He was an engineer!”

My phone buzzed in my hand and that time I didn’t wait to open the text. I read it right away.

Would you let me pick you up instead? Around six?

“Well, what does he say?” Mom asked.

“He wants to pick me up instead of me meeting him.”

“Are you going to let him?”

I looked at her and she was smiling at me. I shook my head at her, laughing again. “You want him to come here so that you can see him, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “You keep talking about how handsome he is.”

“He is handsome. And it’s an awfully gentlemanly thing to do…” I bit my lip for a moment, pretending to think it over.

“Just tell him yes. We both know you’re going to.”

I gave another laugh. “Fine.”

I would like that, thank you. And I’m curious, what does Detective Marshall eat when he’s not eating a cuban sandwich and plain chips?

I put my phone on the table. “What are your plans for today?” I asked, then took a sip of my coffee.

She gave me a cheeky grin. “Changing the subject.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not changing the subject. I’m asking what my mother is going to be doing while I’m out earning the bread for this family,” I joked.

She snorted. “You don’t earn the bread, Fi, you just bake it.” She nodded at my arm. “And burn yourself in the process.”

“That’s the first time I’ve burnt myself in a year and a half. I’d say that’s a pretty good record.”

“That’s true,” she said. “And if you must know, I was thinking of going down to Valley and talking to Georgia about starting music lessons again after the new year. I think by then I’ll have recovered enough to be able to teach at least a few days a week.”

“You’re going to put yourself around snot nosed kids in the dead of flu season?” I asked dryly.

“I’ll be teaching teenagers, not little kids, and I’ll wear a mask,” she said. “I’ll make sure to clean everything between students and have them use hand sanitizer when they come in. I’m not going to be immunocompromised forever, and I’m not going to live in a bubble until then, either.” She gave me a smirk. “Besides, I can’t let you be the only one that earns the bread around here.”

I laughed at her but it was cut short when my phone buzzed again.

Stuff that’s probably not very good for him. Like Italian. How does that sound?

Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more attracted to him, he confessed to liking my favorite type of food. I couldn’t stop my train of thought that went to me one day making an Italian dinner for him as a date. But my mind’s eye set up the imaginary dinner in my old apartment and I knew that would never happen. I let that thought go and took a deep breath, trying to focus my attention on the present moment.

That sounds great. I love Italian food.

I sent it and sat back in my seat. I tried not to let my mind wander too far down the road with Marshall. I’d been on a lot of first dates in my life with guys that I’d thought were great who turned out to be jerks and I knew what that disappointment felt like. And even though I couldn’t imagine Marshall disappointing me in the same way they had - he’d proven at our coffee date that he was far more respectful, even while he was tired - I wanted to remind myself that I needed to take things one step at a time.

Perfect. I’ll see you Saturday at six, then.

I must have looked pretty gooey eyed over the whole thing because Mom reached out and touched my wrist gently. When I looked at her, the teasing tone was gone from her face and she was smiling at me. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. I really am.”

I was a ball of nerves all Saturday morning and afternoon. More than I’d ever been on the day of a first date. But nothing with Marshall fell into my ‘usual’ category. There was something about him that made him different from any other man I’d gone out with. And maybe that was it: He was a man. Not some boy masquerading as one. He was quiet, and fierce, and protective. He thought before he spoke. And even when delivering a threat - like he had to that creep in the bar - he’d done it calmly and with authority. He exuded confidence, not cockiness, and there was honestly nothing more attractive than that.

I was nearly ready, just zipping up my boots, when I heard a crash downstairs. I rushed down and found Mom in the kitchen, trying to pick up the broken pieces of one of her giant coffee mugs.

“I’m - I’m not sure what happened,” she said. “I just lost my grip.”

“It’s okay.” I took a step towards her, trying to avoid the pile of porcelain. “Let me clean it up.”

“I can do it,” she said, sounding flustered.

“I know you can but you’re in socks and I’m wearing boots.”

She stood her ground for a moment, then finally sighed and relented, taking a step back. “Okay. I’ll get you the broom.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get it. Just watch your step.”

I went to grab the broom as she threw away the large chunks of her broken cup that she’d been able to pick up with her hands. I could tell she was frustrated.

“You know, if you didn’t like that mug, you could have just gotten rid of it, you didn’t have to break it,” I joked, taking the broom and dustpan from the broom closet. “Or were you afraid I wouldn’t take the hint and buy you another one if I thought it just went missing?”

She gave a small laugh but I could tell she was still embarrassed. “I actually liked that coffee mug a lot.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can -”

The doorbell rang and she stopped mid-sentence. We both froze, my eyes flicking to the clock on the stove. It was 5:53. Marshall was early. After a moment, Mom took a step towards me, holding out her hand to take the broom from me. I shook my head.

“You’re wearing socks,” I reminded her. “I don’t want you to cut your foot.”

Her eyes grew wide. “So you’re going to clean up after me while I go meet your date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She brushed her hand over her barely there hair, trying to collect herself, then let out a breath. “Okay, I’ll go let him in.”

“Don’t be too charming. He might have a thing for cougars and I don’t want to have to fight my mom for a guy.”

She smiled for real, the embarrassment of having her daughter clean up after her letting go enough that it was no longer plainly visible. “No promises,” she joked, then left the kitchen to answer the door.

It didn’t take long to clean up. Even though the cup had shattered pretty good, its bright white color stood out against the dark wood of the floor, making even the tiniest pieces easy to see. After making sure I’d cleaned it all up, I threw away the pieces and put up the broom and dustpan, then went to find Mom and Marshall.

They were standing in the entryway. Mom was saying something about teaching at Valley and Marshall stood in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, and a look of sincere focus on his face as she spoke. Mom was a small woman but next to him, she looked comically tiny.

I paused for a moment, taking him in. His hair looked a bit more controlled than any other time I’d seen him, his curls tighter and not quite as messy. His beard looked like it had been trimmed, giving it a purposeful look instead of the ‘I’m too busy to shave’ vibe that I’d gotten from him previously. He wore a thick blue sweater that made the color of his eyes pop when they drifted over to me. It was brief, maybe less than a second, before concentrating on Mom again. But he had a slight smile and it was enough for her to notice. She turned and looked at me.

“There she is. I guess I’ll stop talking your ear off and let you two go,” she said.

Marshall smiled at her, then at me, bigger that time. “I didn’t realize I was early. I apologize.”

“No, don’t. You’re fine,” I said, moving to grab my coat. “I’m ready, I was just cleaning up a broken cup. I’m basically like Cinderella around here.”

Mom snorted. “Hardly. Cinderella was made to do chores. You’re the one who won’t let me lift a finger,” she said. “Besides, I think she sang while she worked.”

I raised my eyebrow at her as I put my coat on. “Do you want me to sing?”

She shook her head. “No. No one wants that, sweetie,” she said, making Marshall laugh. She looked at him. “Fi spent a good portion of her teenage years screaming along to music in her room. I didn’t even know you could make ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ sound angry until she proved otherwise. Needless to say, her father and I encouraged her other interests a bit more enthusiastically.”

I grabbed my purse. “I should have let you clean up your own mess and answered the door myself,” I joked before kissing the top of her head. “Bye, Mom.”

Marshall smiled again. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Sparks.”

“Likewise, Detective Marshall. You two have fun.”

We left the house and after a few steps down the walkway, he jabbed his thumb back at the door. “She’s funny.”

“She can be,” I agreed. “She’s a spitfire, though, that’s for sure.”

“I like it.”

“Yeah, I like it, too.”

We walked to his truck and he opened the door for me. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he said as I got in.

I felt myself blush instantly, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, closing the door for me.

We’d only made it to the driveway and my stomach was already doing somersaults. He made me feel like a teenage girl, all giddy and excited, and I loved it.

He went around the front of the truck, then climbed in the driver’s side. I tried to sneak a look at him while he was putting on his seat belt but he caught me. He smiled as I snapped my head straight ahead.

“Sorry, I just, I was…” I tried to think of an excuse but I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound lame. I let out a sigh. “I was checking you out,” I admitted. “I can’t lie. There’s no point. Sorry.”

“That’s the least offensive thing a woman has ever apologized to me for,” he said with a laugh, starting the truck. He leaned forward enough to catch my eye, making me instinctively turn my head towards him. He grinned. “Did you see anything you like?”

My blush deepened and I couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Maybe.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, that is a nice sweater.”

“Oh, so you were checking out my jumper?”

I shrugged. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Does it now?”

“It does. And you have very lovely eyes.”

“Thank you,” he said. “But my daughter bought the jumper, so I can’t take credit for it.”

“She did a good job,” I said, forcing my eyes to look up front as we pulled out of the driveway. Even though I’d already admitted to checking him out, there was a difference between looking and leering and I didn’t want to come off as creepy. “I take it that this wasn’t your weekend to have her?”

“It was supposed to be but she was invited to a Halloween party with some of her friends so she asked to do that instead. She’ll be with me tomorrow.”

“What did she dress as? For the party.”

“A cowgirl.”

“Does she ride horses or did she just like the costume?”

“No, she rides. She took lessons when she was a bit younger. And she and I go riding some weekends.”

“So you’re Detective Marshall during the week and cowboy Marshall on the weekends? Does that ever cross over? Do they have mounted police in the homicide unit?”

He shook his head as he laughed. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Is it now?” he asked, and his tone made me blush all over again.

“I’m actually not going to answer that. I’m going to wait until we get a little further from my house to fully embarrass myself so that when you fake an emergency to get rid of me, my ego doesn’t get too crushed.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?”

“I hope not, but I’ve been excited about having dinner with you, so I’m going to try not to mess it up.”

“I think you’d have to try pretty hard to mess it up,” he said as we stopped at the end of my street. He glanced at me. “And I’ve been excited about it, too.”

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #All I've Ever Known #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #WalterMarshallFanfic

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cicada-bones · 4 years ago

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The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 30: A Healer’s Advice

So i know its the middle of the night, but I just finished this and I had to post it! I restructured this section so that the emotional convo with Aelin was at the end of the chapter, because it works so much better for this fic. Also, I know Namonora is completely OC, but I just had to give her some kind of conclusion in the story because it’s the last time we are going to see her, and I thought it made for a nice emotional moment. You’re just gonna have to forgive me (I know I managed to make one paragraph in the book into a whole ass 3000 words. Im sorry. I hope you like it anyways).

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

For hours that night they stayed up talking, adjusting their plans to accommodate the lack of reinforcements.

There was a somber moment when Rowan calmly encouraged all of the non-fighters still in the fortress to flee. Several demi-Fae exchanged worried glances, but all refused. Even Emrys wouldn’t leave, and Malakai simply said that where his mate went, he went.

Rowan didn’t know whether to be thankful or not that there wasn’t much they could change. The die had been cast, and there was no turning back now. But Rowan kept the demi-Fae captains talking anyways, distracting them from their fear.

It wasn’t until Emrys hauled a pot from beneath the kitchen sink and began banging it with a wooden spoon – demanding that they give it up for the night, that they headed off to bed. Aelin managed to catch a few hours of sleep, but Rowan lay awake, just staring up at the stone ceiling and listening to the slow, even breaths of the female at his side.

The next morning, they led almost every single demi-Fae at Mistward – those who weren’t already out delivering messages, that is – to the healers’ compound, where they helped cart the patients to safety.

They moved them to a camp set into the side of a mountain, an easily defensible cavern with enough space to set up a temporary hospital. It was dark, and a bit damp, but the healers and the wounded would be far safer here than along that exposed section of river.

It took most of the day, even with the dozens of healers and healers’ assistants to help them carry the many stretchers, cots, boxes, and baskets. And there was a seemingly endless line of patients needing assistance traversing the rocky path up to the secluded caves. Many of the wounded used crutches or were bedridden, and many more were too sick to walk unassisted for longer than a few minutes – Fae with weak hearts or lungs, with recently stitched wounds, or half-healed broken bones.

And then there were the supplies. Medical tools, salves, cloth, bandages, and herbs – clothes, books, blankets, and mountains upon mountains of food. All that needed to be carefully transported and stored.

Namonora was a frantic presence in the fringes of Rowan’s vision, flitting in and out of his view throughout the day. One moment, she was assisting a stumbling female over a particularly uneven bit of earth, the next she was organizing piles of books into ‘stay,’ ‘storage,’ and ‘leave,’ piles, according to levels of usefulness. Another, Rowan caught her chastising a rowdy group of young demi-Fae, clearly students, and corralling them into separating piles of patient uniforms into ‘clean’ and ‘dirty,’ and folding them neatly into burlap sacks. In yet another, he found her instructing a harassed-looking assistant on the proper way to pack sets of scalpels “without cutting off the fingers of some unsuspecting healer!”

It wasn’t until evening that Rowan caught a quiet moment with her, when much of the chaos had died down. Even after everything had been moved from the compound and into the cavern, the demi-Fae from Mistward stayed to help the healers organize the camp into a functional structure, and help the wounded settle into their temporary home.

Luca and Emrys had assisted with dinner, whipping up a meal from the dry rations now filling the makeshift pantry, using a convenient rock shelf to prepare the soup that they were now ladling into dozens of bowls. Bas was laughing enthusiastically with a group of injured men from Wendlyn in a secluded corner, exchanging bawdy jokes and generally lightening the dour mood. Aelin was wandering through the rows of cots lighting candles and torches, occasionally giving a soft touch and a smile to those who seemed quiet, or lost.

Namonora was now standing cross-armed near the entrance to the cave, her eyes surveying the company critically. Rowan sidled up beside her, and together they looked over the motley group, stress furrowing both their brows.

After a few long moments, Namonora sighed and turned to face Rowan. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

Rowan frowned. The messages sent to the healers and the other fortresses had been short and to the point, purposefully neglecting to explain much of what they had learned about the dark creatures.

So Rowan told her. He explained how Aelin had discovered their hiding place in the caves, how she realized the connection between the stench and the creature she had faced in the palace in Adarlan. How Rowan had discovered the creatures hidden at the back of the soldier’s camp, and what he learned there. How they had escaped.

Namonora’s eyes darkened as he spoke, her face tightening. When he got to the battle between the creature and the skinwalkers, she paled. “So you are sure it is dead then?”

Rowan sighed. “There was no body.”

“So you cannot be sure.”

“No, we cannot. But I don’t see how it could have survived.”

Namonora looked back over her patients, her healers. All these people she was responsible for. “I was right. Adarlan is breeding monsters in the Dead Islands.” Her voice was cold and hard.

Rowan nodded slowly. “So it seems.”

“Do you know how they can be killed?”

Rowan’s jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I have only guesses.”

Namonora turned sharply to look at him, but she didn’t say anything more. After a heavy pause, she asked, “Are some of your people going to stay here with us? We would be happy to shelter as many as needed.”

“Yes, a few of the non-fighters were going to stay, and we were planning on leaving a small group of guards as well.”

“Good. That is good.” Her voice trailed off.

“Is Paynor still here?”

“No. We discharged him two weeks ago, and he went off to rejoin his naval company. He’s probably fighting at Wendlyn’s northern border as we speak.”

The disdain of a healer filled her voice. A few months ago, Rowan might have thought lesser of her for it. But now…

“Then let us hope their outlook is better than ours.” He was surprised at the layer of sarcasm that darkened his tone.

Her eyes widened. “Is it really that bad?”

The question was earnest. And Rowan knew that he couldn’t avoid it.

“When we could be sure of reinforcements, I knew we had a shot.”

“And now?”

“Now, we will fight as hard as we can. And let the dice fall where they may.”

Silence.

Sorrow leeched into the healer’s lily-mint-and-rain flavored scent, and the two of them turned once again to look over the churning, rippling mass of people before them. Mortals, demi-Fae, and Fae, all working together, helping one another.

Rowan’s eyes automatically sought out a golden head of hair, and found Aelin sitting at the end of a child’s cot. The girl looked pale, and gaunt, but her eyes were bright. A small smile warmed Aelin’s face as they talked quietly with each other.

Aelin raised her hand, and flames began to wrap around her fingers, leafy vines blossoming over her knuckles. The girl started slightly, but Aelin only took her fingers in her own, letting the flaming vines slowly creep over their joined hands to curl around the girl’s wrists as well. They began to sprout into golden blooms, each petal curving and undulating in an invisible breeze.

Rowan could hear the child’s delighted laugh from all the way across the cavern.

“And what will her place be, in the battle to come?”

Rowan realized with a slight shock that Namonora had also been watching Aelin and the girl. Had been watching him watch them. He quickly collected himself. “The princess is an accomplished fighter - she will do whatever is required of her,” Rowan replied simply.

But Namonora seemed unsatisfied. “I can feel the touch of her power from here.”

Rowan nodded vaguely.

“A mighty gift.”

She was prodding, seeking answers he wasn’t sure he wanted to give. Rowan just pursed his lips, jerking his head once.

“Such a gift could only have been bestowed by the gods.” She turned back to face Aelin, face tight. “A demi-Fae princess, with power enough to remake the world.”

Rowan remained silent, his face expressionless.

“A rare thing, that. Priceless.”

Rowan was sure that her eyes must be boring holes into the back of his head by now. Still, he kept his silence.

Her teeth clacked together. “Do you know what our Queen intends to do with this precious gift?”

A pause. “I doubt, Head Healer, that I would tell you, even if I knew.” Rowan’s voice was measured, cautious.

A huff of breath. “A courtly answer, if ever I heard one, your highness.”

Rowan snorted.

“Still – if you both survive, you must take her to Doranelle?”

Rowans silence served as answer in itself.

Namonora sighed. “The thought of those powers, colliding...” she shivered slightly. “I suppose you won’t tell me what the princess intends, either?”

Rowan just sighed.

“I figured.”

“What will be, will be, Head Healer. There’s not much in our power to stop it.”

“I never would have thought you to be so defeatist.” A cold frown. “You must do whatever you can. She must survive.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.

There was a short pause, but then: “You cannot let that girl die.”

Namonora’s voice had become low and intense. Rowan turned to face her, but didn’t say anything. He was surprised to see that instead of anger or reproach, her face was filled with a deep concern.

Rowan sent the old female a questioning look, but she only answered it with yet more evasiveness. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I became a healer?”

Rowan slowly shook his head.

“I met Queen Maeve once. As a child. She found me.”

The healer’s voice relaxed, preparing to tell a long and familiar story. By contrast, Rowan found himself tensing, his muscles stiffening with unease.

“I grew up on the streets of Doranelle. I am full Fae, but still, my parents abandoned me. It took years, but eventually I found out that my father had gotten my mother with child, and then abandoned her. My mother had a very hard labor, and she died giving birth to me. A nursemary took care of me through babyhood, but eventually the money ran out, and she abandoned me too.” A wry frown.

“I lived among groups of demi-Fae children, moving between empty homes and abandoned buildings - scrounging for food and stealing coin where we could. With my gift, I learned how to draw water from the earth, and others were drawn to me, and to the small amount of safety I could offer. I had no idea that another life was possible.”

Rowan found himself interested against his will. It was so similar, and yet so different from Lorcan’s upbringing.

“One day, in my late teens or perhaps early twenties, I stole from the wrong person. A lord of some kind, I never learned his name. Guards came after me, and they broke apart the small group I was living with at the time. They killed one of my friends.”

Namonora’s voice broke, and Rowan shifted in discomfort. Unsure just exactly where she was taking this story, why she felt the need to tell it to him.

“Then they hauled me to the palace, jailed me, and sentenced me to six months’ hard labor. In the textile mills in Kerrcian.” A swallow. “I began to plot my escape. They didn’t know I had a gift. I was untrained, so it was small and easily hidden. I sharpened my water into blades, and began to cut at the bars they held me in. But of course, I was discovered within days, and they covered my hands in iron gloves.

“Only now they knew I had a gift of healing, and everything changed. Queen Maeve sent for me. I can still remember the way my hands shook as I walked through the stone hallways and into the throne room…” She trailed off, her eyes far away.

“She listened as I told my story, listened to my complaints and my excuses. But just when I expected her to render judgement, to punish me for my theft and my desperation, she began to tell me a story of her own.”

Namonora’s face clouded over, in anger or fear or hate, Rowan was not sure.

“She told me a story of evil men, and a narrow escape. Of violence and power and corruption and abuse. I do not know how much of it was true, if any. And I don’t know why she decided to tell it to me. But I remember what Maeve said once she finished.” A deep breath.

“She told me that we should accept the vileness. That instead of trying to change the wicked, instead of trying to fix or heal or learn, we must make ourselves more powerful. That the only way to right the wrongs done to us, is to ensure that they suffered in kind.

“She told me that she would do all she could to win. All she could to protect herself. And to take the revenge she thought herself owed.”

Namonora’s voice was as ice.

“Before she let me go that day, our Queen said that I would owe her for this. That one day, she would call in this debt of mine. I promised her I would do as she asked, then she sent me away to be trained. To learn the healing arts, hidden away in the compound astride the capital city.”

Rowan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the healer, couldn’t help the dread that pooled in his stomach as he began to suspect what was coming next…

“I learned well, and years passed. The work was difficult, and yet those were the safest and most comfortable years I had yet experienced. Though always, the shadow of that debt hung over me, a cat just waiting to pounce. And then, nearly a decade later, she sent for me once more.

“Even though I was no longer that scared little girl, even though I had learned and grown and become an accomplished healer, it was no different this time than the last. My hands still trembled as I walked through those granite hallways, and I can still remember the way my heartbeat pounded in my eardrums.

“And my fear was not unwarranted.”

Rowan felt the dread begin to curdle in his gut.

“Maeve wanted to ask me to become her personal healer, to be by her side and protect her always. She wanted me to swear the blood oath. To be her slave.” A deep breath. “I declined her offer.”

Rowan’s gaze fixed to the floor.

“So that is why I am here, Prince. Despite my many accomplishments. Why I have been banished to the fringes. I refused to do her bidding, and she punished me accordingly.”

Namonora raised her arms to Rowan, and pulled up the long sleeves of her linen gown – revealing ancient, mottled scars. The remnants of deep burns.

“Maeve controls through fear. And she does whatever she can to best serve her own interests, regardless of the harm. Even by defeating and subjugating her enemies before they even become so.” She lowered her arms, letting the sleeves pool once more to cover the old injuries. Her gaze was a stone thrown at his face.

“You know this prince; you have been doing this for her for centuries now. But this girl, this princess...she is different. She could be something different.”

Rowan turned his eyes away, but Namonora was undeterred.

“You must protect her. Even if you have to sacrifice the whole of the fortress to do so, you must keep her safe. This fight doesn’t matter – war is coming. And it is bigger than a fortress in the mists of Doranelle.”

Her voice was insistent. “You must save her, But not for you. Not for your own happiness. The world turns on that child’s fingertips, and I think you know it. Do not forget what your queen has done for power.”

There was a pause, but then Rowan raised his head to see Aelin and the girl, across the way, laughing with each other. Bright. Warm.

He turned to face Namonora, and he nodded.

···

They spent the rest of the evening back at the fortress, discussing their plans for the next few days. They had left Emrys, along with a selection of sentries and few other older demi-Fae who would not be able to fight, with the healers. Rowan wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget the look on Malakai’s face as he walked away from his mate.

Darkness fell, the moon rose, and soon he and Aelin were making their way to bed. Within a minute of entering their rooms, Aelin was undressed and flopping into bed, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

Instead of joining her, Rowan turned to the washbasin, peeling off his shirt and beginning to clean the seat and grime from his limbs. “You did well helping me plan tonight.”

Her reply was wry. “You sound surprised.”

Rowan wiped his face, then leaned against the dresser, bracing his hands against either end. The wood groaned in protest.

Everything had changed between them, and yet absolutely nothing had.

Rowan began to turn back to face her, but his eyes were caught by a golden glint. Aelin had left Goldryn casually leaning against the bedpost, its ruby smoldering in the dim light. Rowan ran a finger across the hit.

What a flimsy shield he had given her. Namonora’s words swirled in his mind, and he wished, wished with everything he had, that he could protect her. Could keep her safe.

Rowan let go of the dresser and approached the bed. “I sent word,” he said, the words slipping from his lips as if by accident. “To my…cadre, as you like to call them.”

Aelin’s face tightened, almost imperceptibly. “When?”

“A few days ago. I don’t know where they all are or whether they’ll arrive in time. Maeve might not let them come – or some of them might not even ask her. They can be…unpredictable. And it may be that I just get the order to return to Doranelle, and – ”

“You actually called for aid?” She cut off his babbling.

His eyes narrowed. I just said that I did.

She stood, and he retreated a step. What changed your mind?

Some things are worth the risk.

This time, he didn’t back away as Aelin took another step towards him. And another. Her face was filled with some deep emotion, a well so dark he could not see the bottom.

Her words were ragged. “I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don’t care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.”

Rowan turned away from her before she could see the way his face twisted, before she could read the words that would surely be obvious there.

Because it didn’t matter. Even if they survived, when they went to Doranelle, she would walk out of Maeve’s realm alone.

And it hurt.

Her words wormed inside him and ached and festered and itched.

Hurt even more because he knew that under different circumstances, in a different life, he would be filled with joy. And love. And happiness and every other hopeful and tragic and heart-wrenching emotion you feel when you’re accepted by another person for exactly who you are.

Rowan stood there, listening as Aelin rustled the covers, getting herself settled in for sleep. He collected himself, then padded over to join her.

As he settled into bed beside her, it almost seemed as though she relaxed into his form. Her breaths coming more even, and her lithe body falling comfortably still.

But they did not touch, and all night Rowan knew he would feel the pressure of that hollow ache, that need to wrap his arms around her, to feel her skin on his and know that she was still alive.

To believe that perhaps, she could be his. As he was already hers.

...

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samwritesforyou · 4 years ago

Text

can the sinner get a happy ending?

Fandom: Code Geass

Summary: nunnally decides to clear lelouch’s name and lelouch - conveniently - around that time decides to visit his sister in disguise, because he just misses her so much. but what happens when he learns that people for some reason can’t remember him as a bloody emperor?

A/N: this fic is turning out to be longer than 15k already, so i will post only one part here, as of.. a “prologue”, or just a feel for you to what this story might bring with it. the rest i will upload on ao3! im really proud of this work :D enjoy!

also... im finally coming back to my favourite formatting of this “description” part for the fics, finally :D its been a mess last four fics, sorry! also sorry to everyone who doest follow me for code geass content, i will write different things too, dont worry!

Warnings: mention of a panic attack, no serious proof-reading

Wordcount: 4k (Prologue)

“Nunnally, I do not agree with this,” Suzaku said firmly, looking the empress straight in the eye, brows furrowed together.

“Suzaku-kun, I understand why you’re upset, but this will not harm the people in any capacity. I do this for my brother,” she stated just as strongly, not daring to shift her gaze elsewhere from his emerald pearls.

“But that doesn’t matter, using this power is just wrong!” he was almost yelling now, clutching his hand in the fist.

Whenever someone was talking about geass or even thought about using it, he always had severe reaction to that topic, probably due to all the trauma and suffering that it caused.

Kururugi has never had a fight with Nunnally yet, they had a calm relationship full of mutual love and trust. Despite her being Lelouch’s sister, she was never like him in any sense. And Suzaku feared the day once he’ll start to see the similarities. Despite loving his friend beyond any measure, his actions and thinking was oftentimes just.. extreme, to say the least. Extreme and dangerous, he was never supposed to gain the power he got ahold of. That’s what was going through Japanese’s mind as they were arguing with Nunnally.

She looked at him wide eyed and he could almost be able to see how the wall of trust they’d built together cracked ever so lightly, as the young empress lowered her gaze and sighed.

“Zero, this is an order. Tell Lloyd to have it ready by tomorrow,” there was such unfamiliar coldness in her tone that it made Suzaku stop in his tracks as she turned around in the wheelchair and started to drive away from him.

It was unfamiliar from her, yet.. so familiar from Lelouch.

There was hardly a day when he didn’t think of him. Either cursing him or praying to him to come back.

He didn’t wear a mask right now, because they were talking in the empress’ private rooms where no servants had access to, so he could be himself around here, yet.. yet she addressed him as Zero.

Suzaku’s green eyes shifted slowly, now looking at his feet.

He was clothed in the purple costume with gold lines, purple gloves and a white puff scarf tucked into the shirt. He hated it. He hated all of it. Every single fibre.

He fell to his knees, breath catching in his throat and he felt the familiar dizziness coming into motion.

He was having a panic attack.

It wasn’t anything new to him and Suzaku found out that the best way to fight it is to let it flow. Let it consume him and shiver uncontrollably, salty tears falling from his eyes onto the red carpet as he bowed his head to the floor.

He was alone possibly in the whole floor so there would be no one watching. No one acknowledging how much pain this human being has to endure, when his only wish is to die.. and when he can’t possibly even do that.

When he finally felt the convulsions stop and dizziness drifted away he sat up on the ground, lifting a hand to his face with a sigh that echoed through the richly decorated halls.

“What a fucking day,” man whispered to himself, slowly getting up and taking the mask of Zero, putting it on, feeling the material close surely around his head so no one could possible guess his true identity anymore.

The stare that nobody could see was deprived of any emotion. Now he was just a faceless person with a mission from the empress.

He went straight to Lloyd’s engineering wing, passing the painting of himself in the white suit as the pilot of the Lancelot, a piece of black cloth at the side of the golden frame, meaning that he’s still being mourned by the genius technician.

“Nunnally vi Britannia demands for the device to be ready by tomorrow,” he said sternly, never adjusting his cape as Lelouch always did - a waste of time and a touch that’s soaked with pretentiousness.

“Of course, Zero, your wish is my command! It’s almost ready anyways,” engineer answered, sitting alone by the table where he continued to work on some cables and connections to various pieces of metal.

He was offered to gain at least a dozen of good workers that could help him in his experiments but earl declined, saying that there’s nothing much to invent without his beautiful pilot and no grandiose war going on between Britannia and Japan anymore.

Suzaku just curtly nodded at that, staying watching him for a moment longer than necessary, just wishing he could reveal to him who he really is and that his pilot is still alive and well and could try some of his new knightmares if he ever makes some.

“Lloyd-san, it’s break time!” suddenly rung a high pitched voice through the empty working space as Cecile came closer to both of them with a little tray rattling with silverware and some food on the surface.

“Oh, Zero, I didn’t notice you come in,” she said sheepishly and smiled, pulling the tray towards him a little in an offering.

“Don’t you want to stay and have lunch with us?” she asked in her sweet voice, the one she uses when she wants to make the good impression, but Suzaku just sighed.

These two were the only people who didn’t really judge him. Even when they didn’t know his true identity, it almost seemed like they were friends like they were before. He liked spending time here, but possibly couldn’t keep them company in eating, since.. he couldn’t really take off his helmet.

“Cecile-san, you know that I mustn’t reveal my identity, hence I can’t keep you company at lunch. Only if I sat by the table without taking a single bite,” he said, a soft smile finally breaking to his lips, making the corners of his mouth go up just a little bit.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, finally realising why this offer wouldn’t work out, but then she said “oh” again and quickly made a beeline towards the main doors, locking them.

“But what if! I locked the main entrance so nobody could come in while we’re eating,” she started enthusiastically and then made another small run towards the light switch, looking with hope at her boss and then the masked man, “and we would also eat in pitch darkness, so you could finally enjoy something with acquaintances, like a normal person?” she smiled and then blinked comically, correcting herself and laughing nervously, “I’m not saying that you’re not normal, of course, I’m just. I realise that it must be hard to be wearing a mask all the time, mustn’t it?” she finished carefully, biting her lower lip.

“Cecile-kun, you’re making Zero intrigued, I think!” Lloyd barked a loud laugh, looking over at his ex-subordinate, “What do you say, Zero? I promise you no peeking!” he teased and got closer to him, wiggling his brows.

Suzaku couldn’t help himself but felt his smile growing wider at that suggestion. There really was no risk, right?

Did Cecile want to try it for a while now? Because it seems like a thought of plan, after all.

*If I keep shielding myself from others I might as well go insane sooner or later.. What’s the harm in one, pitch black lunch, right?..*

Suzaku thought to himself and then nodded.

“Okay, why not?” he said, making Cecile excitedly jump in the air and Lloyd lean deeper into his chair with a pleased hum.

“Alright! On the count of three I’ll turn off the lights and then.. hopefully make it to you guys without any problem!” she explained and on the count of three she really turned off the lights.

Suzaku wasn’t rushing in taking off his helmet, at first waiting for Cecile to make it safely to their little table. It.. was really dark.

“Cecile-san, please be careful,” he said, now being kind of nervous for his friend.

“I’m okayyy!” in the end of the sentence she yelped, because her outstretched arm collided with Zero’s mask, making a low thud, “I.. suppose I made it to the table, right?” she laughed and Suzaku gave out a chuckle as well, carefully putting her hand aside, so she could find the chair to sit on in this ridiculous darkness.

“Okay, so.. I’ll just warn you that I won’t be speaking while we’re eating, because I have a voice modifier inside that distorts my original voice,” Kururugi explained carefully, waiting for their reactions.

“Ahhh, so you can’t be tracked even by voice recognition, that’s very smart!” mused Lloyd, already, what it seemed, with a mouthful of food, “Or you’re someone who we know, so you don’t want to be recognised! But that’s less probable than the first point,” he concluded to himself, now apparently drinking something.

“I won’t comment on that, Lloyd-san,” Suzaku said and then sighed, “Itadakimasu.”

And with that, the only sound in the room despite the munching on the food was the noise of Zero’s mask unzipping and being put near him on the ground.

Japanese inhaled sharply, filling his chest with some fresh air, even though they were inside.

He finally scratched his nose and then rubbed his eyes, using all of the time he has without a mask. Being without it in public was a really rare occasion, so he felt ecstatic, thinking that.. maybe one day his life might get better.

Once he took a big bite of some veggie balls that were on the plate in front of him, he already wanted to say how delicious it is, especially compared to first things she ever cooked for them, but then stopped himself, instead just gulping down the food.

He noticed that the other two were silent as well, probably honouring the fact that one of this trio cannot talk. How nice of them, truly.

During the whole process he was careful of sounds to be able to in time put a mask back on if needed, but nothing really happened. He only heard some clicking, as if someone was taking glasses on and off two times, but other than that, nothing. It was probably Lloyd messing around anyways.

He sighed with relief when he finished, reluctant to put the mask back on. Despite of being in the dark for so long, his eyes didn’t adjust and he still couldn’t see anything, probably because the place was really devoid of all light at the moment.

Then he shook his head to himself, thinking that revealing his identity would be too risky at the current situation, so he put the mack back on, making a clicking sound in the dark.

“I’ll turn the light back on,” Suzaku said and luckily didn’t collide with anything on his way there.

Once the light was back on, the trio grunted in unison, their eyes certainly not being able to absorb this all at once.

He didn’t sit back down to the portable table but just stood next to it, looking at Cecile.

“Thank you for the meal, it was very delicious,” he said, smiling at her.

“I’m glad it was,” when she lifted her dark blue eyes at him, it looked like she’s been crying, so he got instantly worried.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I am, thank you, it’s just the sudden light,” she laughed weakly in response, placing her gentle palm on top of his hand, squeezing a little.

Suzaku then pulled away and nodded, still with a warm aftertaste of being treated like an actual friend or an acquaintance.

“I’ll get going then. See you tomorrow, Lloyd-san,” Zero turned away on his heels and made his way from the engineering lab.

“Cecile-kun, the tears weren’t from the lighting, were they?” once they were alone, Lloyd looked at her with a pleased grin, swiftly putting his hand into her pocket and taking night vision glasses out of there, waving them in the air in front of her, “Who is he?”

“I’m sorry, Lloyd-san, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” she said with a warm smile, a single tear falling down her cheek, “but he is a good person. We can definitely trust him.”

Life went at significantly slower pace in the countryside than in the city. Nobody was busy.. there actually was *nobody*. Only him and C.C.

The perfect solitude life for two sinners who wanted to make their wishes come true.

Lelouch was just in the middle of harvesting some plants from their little farm, taking breaks every so often because his physique didn’t improve even in conditions like this.

The strew hat oh his head protected him from the angry sun that was shining though the eternity of summer in these lands.

“C.C., can you please get me a container for these? I think it’s better to grow them inside, they’re dying out there on all this heat,” ex-emperor barged into their house with two plants in his hands, taken out of the ground with the roots, waiting for help from the green haired companion he had by his side.

“Uh-huh, sure,” she put away the knitting equipment and lowered her bare legs from the table she was resting on, getting up to her feet, making a beeline for the back room, where the junk of all sorts was stored. For situations like this.

She looked around the whole room, noticing old Zero suit just hanging by the wall, some markers and scissors peeking out of the pockets. She sighed and lowered her olive eyes, finally finding what her partner has asked her for.

With two brown-ish pots in hands she went back and put them on the floor in from of the skinny man, returning to the back room once again to get some fresh soil for the poor plants.

Then she came back for the second time, plopping next to the bag with terra, tearing it open and pouring the soil into the pots.

Lelouch was looking at her this whole time, as if exploring every millimetre of her pale skin. He did it often now. Paying more attention to the details and that made him even the better deduction master than he’s been before.

Sherlock Holmes was onto something, truly.

He could now finally put the plants into their new home now, patting the ground with his elegant fingers, making sure they’re steady in it.

Then he placed them next to the dining table and wanted to go out again.

“Lelouch,” simply said C.C., taking her knitting needles in hands alongside the purple yarn which for the most part was being dragged behind her as she followed him outside.

“Hm?” was the only answer she got, as Lelouch continued taking care of the garden, completely immersed in the activity.

Or maybe his mind was thousand miles away..

“I miss you,” she stated, still knitting, kind of furiously, even though her face was unchanging.

“What? I’m right here,” he chuckled, his hands firmly in the ground, making sure that the plants have enough space to grow and expand.

“No. The old you, the one who was always in motion, who didn’t let life stop him, the one who made me feel like life is a game worth winning,” she said, her hands slowing down in the tempo of her activity, “I feel like you’re losing yourself too.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment after that, working like some gardener, brows furrowed together.

“But we won, C.C. This might not be the life that you nor I want to live, but that’s a small price to pay for the world to stay in peace, don’t you think?” he finally met her eyes, lifting his amethysts from the greenery.

“What about Nunnally? Don’t you wanna see her?” there was no hesitation in her voice as the man got up from his knees and pointed a finger at her in a warning manner.

“I told you to never say her name aloud..” he whispered, no signs of anger on his face, only sadness pooling in his dark, beautiful eyes.

“So you just want to forget her? Or what? What’s your plan?” she stood on her tiptoes now to get closer to his face, talking in the same semi-whispering way, not willing to step down.

This kind of rivalry was the thing that kept these two going in the most dire times when they just wanted to fuck it all and return to the old swing of things.

“I have no plan,” said Lelouch so closely to her lips that at some point of his phrase they touched and he then pulled away, making his way back to the house.

“Hm. What a sore loser,” she mused with a smile on her face, following him and plopping herself on the couch, knitting away.

For the rest of the day they didn’t exchange a single word.

Suzaku was dreading today. The day started already badly from the beginning.

He woke up with a headache and outside was pouring rain, attacking large windows in his private rooms, sound echoing through the space that lacked furniture.

Despite having amazing athletic skills, the curly haired boy was still very skinny for his height and his depression often made him feel like he doesn’t even need or deserve to eat anything.

He sat on the bed, white shirt loose on his shoulders, shuddering to himself.

It was so dark. And lonely. Everyday was the same. Lonely, lonely, lonely. Alone. Echo drifting through the void of his existence, springing off the rich, gold decorated walls which mean absolutely nothing to him.

He hated to reside in the royal palace but he would hate even more to be somewhere alone.

Here he at least has Nunnally... someone who knows completely and unconditionally who he is.

His first plan of action each morning is to wake her up, let her dress and then go together to the dining hall and have breakfast. Only after that they would proceed to go on official side of the business.

When he came to her room and saw an empty bed his heart sunk uncomfortably fast and Kururugi rushed to it, seeing a note neatly folded on the sheets.

*I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand, but I will be in my office earlier today. Have something to eat and then bring me the finalised Product. We’ll hold the ceremony in the evening.”

It said and he slowly slid his fingers over the letters, face growing grim.

The product.. she meant the geass button. His stomach curled up and he started to feel nauseous.

If any doctor would see Suzaku right now, they would probably tell him to take a vacation at least for a month and rest for the eternity of it.

There was no professional to stop him, though, so he just stepped hard on all of his emotions, knitting his brows together, putting the Zero mask on.

He marched from the private empress wing and saw quite a lot of commotion, probably because of the speech that Nunally will be giving later.

A lot of people started coming up to him, saying “Zero please do this and that” and Kururugi just waved them all away, for once without any capacity left to feel guilty that he can’t help with preparations.

Soon enough young man found himself in the technician part of the palace where everything was more silent. Way easier to bear the silence here than in his room, he noticed.

“Ah, Zero, welcome!” mused Lloyd, greeting his with open arms, “Everything is ready! Still don’t understand why would the empress need such a device that never brought nothing good but I guess it is not my business to ask, am I right?” he smirked and looked at the masked person, hands on hips.

“It indeed isn’t,” said Suzaku in the low tone, just being fed up with this day. He’d much rather take off his mask and tell the whole world that his death was a lie instead of even touching the device that can inflict such a power. Power that he despises.

But he can’t do that. He can’t do that because he is a slave. He always will be. Lelouch was right. He just lets people to spit on him over and over, in the end not changing a single thing in the grand scheme of things.

Suzaku wasn’t the greatest politician, despite his dad rooting heavily in politics, and so japanese were actually still being oppressed. He just didn’t know how to solve it. He wasn’t as great of a leader as Lelouch was, as the real Zero was.

He’s just a mere replacement that can’t even do his job right.

So he will take the geass button that Nunnally requested from his friend that doesn’t even know who he is, he will ignore Cecile-san as she comes in just seconds before he leaves and waves enthusiastically at him, he will continue in his heavy steps all the way to the palace, he will shrug off every single interviewer that wants to have a discussion with Zero, leader of a nation, he will knock on empress’ office where she is ready for the speech to give to the whole population. And he will bow down before her, getting on one knee, giving her the power he hates. She will just curtly nod at him and then put the device carefully in her lap, just out of reach of the camera. He will stand beside her as Zero, and there will be silence before the broadcast.

He is just a servant. Merely that.

“Nunnally,” he said, devoid of any emotion left, “you still won’t tell me which order are you going to give?” he was looking straight into the tv screen in front of them, as the countdown showed still two minutes left before the beginning of the stream.

“No,” she said seriously, looking at the same direction, tensing up.

“So it will work on me and I won’t even know, huh,” his tone was now softer and quieter, accepting the fact that his most loved person alive is essentially doing what he hated the most.

“No. I got that checked up, Suzaku,” in her voice could be heard a small smile, probably a sad one, as she continued “Apparently the order that my brother gave you was so powerful that you’re immune to any different type of geass,” she said with a deep sigh, “so you’ll hear it and won’t be affected. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He couldn’t answer her anything on that because the timer was already up and the political duo went live to the millions of people that were watching, all around the globe.

The topic of the speech was supposed to be about more liberation rights for Japan, so that created a lot of so-called “hype” amongst the citizens, britannians as well as japanese. The maximum amount of people were watching and they will all obey the empress. That was the plan.

“Nunnally vi Britannia commands you,” with hearing these words Suzaku got goosebumps, his hands squeezing the handles of her wheelchair as much as he could to prevent himself from doing anything that he might regret later, “please, everyone who is watching this or hearing this, forget about the fact that the 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire was Lelouch vi Britannia. From now on, you will all remember him as just a person without a face, someone who wanted to rule the entire world, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Lelouch,” she said, after pressing the button.

Even a normal person could feel a literal surge of some energy coming out of the room they were in and Suzaku widened his eyes as he heard the order.

His mouth hung open as he was trying to make sense of what she just said.

Nunnally cleared Lelouch’s name.

Nunnally... cleared Lelouch’s name.

Kururugi couldn’t focus on anything that the empress proceeded to talk about after that, staring blankly at the wall and for the first time he was genuinely glad that he was wearing a mask, so that nobody could see his shocked expression.

A/N: this fic can be now found on ao3! i wont be updating it here on tumblr because that would be just too many chapters and that's just... too much work fdsjfjsf

#code geass fanfiction #code geass #suzalulu #suzalulu fanfic #suzaku kururugi #lelouch lamperouge #suzaku kururugi fanfic #lelouch lamperouge fanfic #im SO PROUD of this work i hope people will notice it

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uwuowotf2waslife · 4 years ago

Note

The mercs with an s/o who is on the autism spectrum? If you want to

as a person with diagnosed autism( ASD that later changed to SCD but concidering my countrys lack of proper diagnosis and non-existant support when i was growing up, im not sure,it might was a result of chronic abuse or i was a really weird kid) its my duty to answer this ask,

always know that you are perfect with all your imperfections

just because maybe your brain is wired different it doest make you less of a person

you are poetry

Scout

-my boy has adhd ( probably undiagnosed until he was examined by Medic) so you two might have a little problem at the begining.

-he might be the closest to a jack russel in human form, but he cares about you and is willing to sit down and do his research so he can understand you and your struggles. He isn’t a hypocrite, he is a hyperenergetic bundle of daddy issues and is sure he will annoy you from time to time, he annoys pretty much everyone except his mom on rare occasion, he is a hanfull and he knows that years now. But he also has come to understand that everyone has struggles and little things that make them more special than others.

-if you have problems with communication , he’ll be your mouth .Problems with sensory overstimulation? he will escort you to the safest place and hug you tighter than he thought hes capable of. People mistreating or bullying/insult you? the bat is in his hands and his ready to hit home runs on their balls. You might not be the perfect couple, you will struggle like every couple and have fights and arguments, but he is ready to phase every difficulty that comes on your way. He loves you and he is here for the ride even if its bumpy.

Soldier

-( I and i think a big part of the community claim he is actually autistic) Probably the most tricky of the mercs, since at one side he might completely relate/understand you and the relationship go smoother than soft butter on bread, or he might have problems communicating the relationship problems with you.

-as all relationships you two must sit down and communicate your problems. Believe me he isn’t mentally retarded ( a horrible misconsumption ive seen being thrown around), yes he is stubborn and can’t read social cues to save his life, but he is a loyal beefcake with a golden heart hardened by a lifitime of war. He knows he isn’t the perfect man, he has nightmares and panic attacks on the regualr after so much trauma in his life. But he also knows that if he S/O needs him, it doesnt matter if its a small or big thing, he is ready to go through hell and back to make them happier or more comfortable

-you can’t stand loud noises? copy that privet, he will stop yelling/ screaming around you. Certain things make you uncomfortable/ anxious? hes at your side and he is ready to snap necks...you have his heart and his adoration, he ain’t a coward or a pansy, you’ll win over any challenge that comes your way like the absolute unit you are and he is there to assist

Pyro

-fresh from the start they can recognise you have autism, i lowkey think they might be ( actually in young adults asd and mild schizophrenia can be mixed and confused by not good qualified doctors, its been years since i read that study so correct me if im wrong) or have really good gut insticts. Either way, they know you are struggling and trie in subtle ways to help you

-did an important call without stuttering? hug and smooch on the crown of your head, completed all your work/homework? they will cover you in stickers and cuddle you in their pillowfort, stood up for yourself? my girl theyll make a huge cupcake tray and youll two will eat while watching sappy disney films

- you won’t struggle as much, i see them as more easy going than other members of the team. But they also have big issues that may create problems in the relationship that you both need to work on. They are more than a handfull and they aren’t unaware of it, they spended years locked inside their own head doing god-knows how vile and harming things to their mentality and body, they can’t believe they are alive and they wake up every day next to the most beautifull human being they have come across their lif, ( Y/n). You will bond slow but strong , you are their sunshine and theyll make sure their sunshine shines no matter what they have to do

Engie

( lowkey i think is canon he has some form of high-functioning autism, just hide its behind the southern warm and soft hospitality)

- when you confess, he hugs you ( a big thing coming from him since i dont consider him a touchy fella) and returns the confession that he is too. He knows each person experiences different so he won’t press you for explanations or description of what you have is excactly. He just assures whatever happens, he is there to help you with

- doesn’t really change how he views you, but he takes the initiative for things like talking to strangers, calling to order or things that you struggle with, but he doesnt baby you. You are an adult person and will be treated as that, even if sometimes he feels he needs to “help” or “protect” you

-one of the most easy going of the mercs, but his work is his priority so there will be long arguments about it. He understands your frustation, but he is a workaholic years now before you came in his life and can’t bring himself to change that. His work is his routine, the only comfort he knows and the only place that accepted him for who he is. But, he will be more elastic and have more breaks/ days off even if it means the project will be finished an hour or two later, unless it has an urgent deadline. He knows he can be very cold and emotionless, he is an engineer, not a spy for that reason. Furthermore he has his own times when he is stubborns or has an anger explosion because something broke/didnt meet his expectations or got way too invested into something that turned to be worthless/ uselless so he isn’t the one to judge if you are in a sour mood or you have your own “ explosion”. After all said and done, late at night when you are both alonein his workshop he will just cradle you in his arms and make a silence promise to always be there for you through thin and thick ( as we say to go through 40 waves and 40 more ) because you are something that no machine or creation can emulate or recreate, you are ( Y/N) and you are the love of his life.

Demo

-arguably one of the three more knowledgable of the mercs in the topic of mental health department. Being raised in an orphanage i doubt he didnt had at least a dozen other kids who had from high to moderate to severe autism ( during the 20th century it wasnt uncommon for people with autism to be thought less human or that the family of said people couldn’t provide for them in severe cases so theyd be dropped on orphanages and psychiatric hospitals)., so he has some first hand experiene with what autism is. It isn’t something for him in all honesty, after so much trauma and hardship in his life he is at peace that peopleare different and their brains are rarely wired the same

-he also know he isn’t ideal, he acts really stupid when he is drunk and his alcohol consumption alone is a very big problem for any relationship he ever had in his life and i doubt he is the image of psychological perfection, but he also knows that if you are willing to keep him around you have seen him wasted out of his mind, he is more than willing to put up with anyof your quirks or difficulties.

-you want to stim? go ahead he’ll leave the room/the house so you can stim to your hearts content, you want to stay? sure thing lass, hell sit in a corner and drink a bit while you have your thing. Work/ school/ home life is stress full and you are in the verge of a breakdown? he has already wrapped you like a burrito and he is holding you while you cry/vent, you dont want to be touched at that moment? hell take you to an open field and you can blow things up to get all those feelings out of you. He isn’t ideal, he is at peace with that, but now that you appeared in his life, you became the apple of his eye. He’ll cherish you and protect you both as body but as a mind and a soul for whatever shit life throws at you, he was never one to back down a challenge.

Heavy

-due to the language barrier and his nature as a quiet man it’ll take him some time. If you bring it up he’ll simply nod and run to Medic or Spy for translation. He isn’t shy to do a doctors worth of research so he knows what he has to deal with, he knows his english is broken and would prefer to have a migraine over the amount of books hes read than make you feel uncomfortable. Probably will ask advice from Medic ( the most qualified on the team) untill hes satisfied he knows enough.

-probably the sanest of the mercs, but he isn’t perfection. He had to endure famine and death from very early in his life, always be the stone his family anchored on and most people on his life, so he has his own big problems. At one side he is used to so many things, he is somewhat indiferent. You aren’t harming anyone nor its life threatening, so it doesnt really change what he feels about you. All people have flaws, noones perfect and if they do think they are perfect, they are very, very wrong. I won’t lie to you, some times hell get confuse with your behavior or will get tired of being the “ anchor” of the relationship, but he will never admit it. He survived the Gulags and years in Siberia, this is nothing but a walk in the park for him. He isn’t a fuckboy, he doesn’t want you just for some fuck and then hell forget you exist, he is much more sentimental than he appears to be. He beginned this with you because he sees you more than a body, he sees you as someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with even if itll be a challenge, he was never a quiter and he wont be now.

- don’t expect much communication help from him, unless its in russian. But whenever you feel the tiniest bit of self-doubt or anxiety his arms are open to embrace and warm you with his love. He might was raised among anarchy and war, but he is a gentle giant with a heart bigger than Russia herself. He knows you two will struggle especially on the communication domain but he is willing to do what it takes to make your life easier/ less challenging. He came here to stay, only if you allow him

Medic

-Arguably the most medically qualified of the mercs, but considering the era of his studies hes at least rusty on modern terminology and general understanding of what autism is. Nontheless his a doctor ( with or without a medical license) and i doubt he ever followed the rules of ethical and unethical medicine. He is a healer primeraly and he can’t claim to be the most mentaly stable of the team.

-he might be many things, he knows hes at least crazy by normal standards and has made extremely questionable choices in his life,but he cares for the people he is close to, lovers and collagues alike. He won’t try to ‘change’or ‘medicate’ you; unless you specifically ask him for, like yes he has defied any sort of ethical medicine and has played god many times in his life, but he knows that if he changes you, you won’t be ‘you’. You will be you still, but nothing more than a lobotomized version of yourself and he fears that. Let’s be real, he probably choosed you because you are a smart individual ( that includes both street and book smarts alike) so if he “killed” your smart he would essentially kill you and this doesnt sit well with him.

-feeling down? no worries, the doctor is here ( afterhe finis hes re-connecting snipers new kidneys). Stressed? Archimedes will be your own personal cheerleader and the rest of the flock won’t let you all stressed and alone while Medic is working. In the simplest of works,he wants you to know that he might be a madman on the field and the medbay, but he is also your lover and that means he cares about you. He doesnt care if act a lil strange or you have some special things about you, guess what? he doesnt cares. H e never cared and he will never cared, all the greatest minds had something special about them and you are no exception. He chosed to have a relationship with you and you accepted the love request of a surgery-happy maniac , im sure he is beyond equiped to handle you in all aspects. He might not be the most touchy but he will make his point across that you are someone who means wayy to much for him to change

Sniper

- ( i highly think he is autistic, just the way hes potrayed in most fanfics he acts lowkey autistic, mostly in the communication and sociable part) growing up in the middle of nowhere probably he has never even heard ‘autism’ as a word , so his very lost. (another headcanon of mine is that he is also iliterate) You need to explain to him what autism is and how it affects your life. He has a non-pleasant expression on his face, because he realises most things that you say what that “autism”is and the thing it has are things he actually has and felt throughout his life. He looks like hes having a religious expierience and when you are done he only nods and hugs you almost mechanically.

-he will need some time, not because ofyou, but because of him. You might think he is breaking up with, butin reality he just needs some time alone to sit down and think about all the things you said. Its one of the biggest revalations he has experienced on his life and it has hit him like a wall of bricks.

- after a few days he will return to the base and will ask you to meet with him on the most secluded of his snipers nest. While you prepare for the upcoming breakup, he actually showers and wears somet hing nice for the first time in a while. He goes out of his way to make the sniper nest a bit more “ comfortable” even bribe spy into giving him one of his fancy wines. Once you go up the nest and you two meet, he is the most clingy he has ever been and almost drinks the whole bottle out of pure anxiety. Once his tipsy enough he actually confesses that from the things you said, he found out hes also autistic. Que him basically clinging you like a broken koala baby while half-sobbing to expell all the tension he has inside him. Please pet his hair and rub his back,he will melt and quit his rugged manly man persona for that moment. He needs you there, he needs your soft touch to ground him while his whole life comes crushing down and a weight he never imagined is being lifted from his shoulders.After that, its quaranteed you two won’t be seperated ever again, he needs you to ease all this pain he has gathered from his troubled life and he will provide you the world and the stars.

Spy

- he knows what autism is( as a spy he should know about human psychology/mental disorders just to know how to impersonate any person with or without issues) and he is a very observant man. He has above average attention span and knows how to read body language so he has figured you are autistic a long time ago. He is just waiting for you to open up about it or confess it, but he also knows the social stigma around autism so he keeps his mouth shut because he really doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or ‘naked’ in front of him

- i heavily headcanon him to be at least depressed/having an ugly anxiety disorder or even a dissosiative disorder considering a big part of his life is carefully crafted theater , so he can’t say he is any more better than you.Furthermore he never really cared about what society thinks about mental ilnesses, whos here to judge who sane and not? he has seen so much shady things behind closed doors of “ pure” people he has lost all respect for what society thinks its normal and what is weird or not acceptable. Yes he follows the rules of “good” society but thats more of a habit than a need. Plus have you seen what the good ol’ society behind close doors? yap youll need a good bible study and some church to wash away the sins.

-eventually when you confess to him,he doesn’t really act. He knows its a heavyemotinal moment for you but he can’t open up for his own problems, at least now. But he will embrace you for now and say all the sweet words you need to hear...untill the same time he gets drunker than he can and confesses to you in french all his psychological troubles while he cries on your chest. He won’t let go unless he wants to vomit and he will cling to you for dear life while he experiences one of the ugliest meltdowns he has experienced in the last decade. Probably will wake up with a monster of a hangover, but once he feels you wrapped around him and feel your heartbeat on the bones of his back something will meltin him. He will gather whatever strenght he has, turn around, give you one of the most genuine smiles he has ever given in his entire life and peck your lips bore he starts whining and requiesting you to either kill him or fetch medic. Perhaps one day hell say all the things he wants to say in you mother tongoue but for now, just know he will cherish you and love you like the most exquisite poetry that has graced his life

#tf2 #tf2 imagines #tf2 facts #tf2 self insert #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #tf2 engie #tf2 demo #so #all #long post #autism #relationships dynamic #mentall health

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sourbat · 4 years ago

Note

15 or 19 - Nathan/Abigail!

shooting star

thank you!

Abigail wanted “a small dinner,” but when Nathan buys out an entire restaurant for an otherwise uneventful dinner date at a world renowned restaurant, she tells him it’s not what she meant. Later, she mentioned a trip somewhere would be nice, and he tries again, taking her across the country (not several, he points out later to her when she asks him what he was thinking), and again, Nathan wonders where exactly he goes wrong. Abigail requested a relaxing afternoon, but gets upset when Nathan orders klokateers to clear out the park ahead of their arrival, and shoot down any birds that dared interrupt the peace.

Nathan doesn’t get it. He tries asking. Abigail tells him he’s sweet, thoughtful, and that she understands his intent.

“But it’s a lot,” she says, gently putting him down with a soft voice. “And after a long day, I just really need something a bit more down to earth and simple.” She sends him a smile that helps ease the nasty blow he feels. “You understand, right?”

He nods his head at her, but deep down, is reeling in frustration. Were the dates he arranged not simple enough? It wasn’t as though he was already spending less than a few million per date, a mere fraction of what he spent on other, less worthier women.

Pickles is the first to suggest that Nathan take her suggestion into consideration.

“Here me out, what if ya spend only, like, a thousand on her or somethin’?” he says, watching in bemusement when Nathan’s eyes go wide in horror at such a challenge.

“Uh, how am I supposed to impress her if I only spend a grand on her?”

Skwisgaar stops his playing and butts in. “Sometimes it ims not about impresskinks her, but ams about listeninks to her,” he says, smiling at Nathan. “Many of them ladies I brings home just wants someones to talks to, to asks them abouts their day…”

Toki charges forth and mentions Abigail being super tired after a long day of work, and having lots of fun just paling with her, watching dumb shows like Dawson’s Creek while listening attentively to her complaints. Nathan considers it, then asks Toki what sort of suggestions he should provide if she does start complaining. Toki shrugs and tells her he doesn’t usually offer solutions.

“Sometimes ams not about giving answers to problems?” he tells Nathan, and when he glances in Skwisgaar and Pickles’ direction and sees the men give an approving nod, reaccesses the thousand-dollar challenge placed on him.

It’s Pickles’ turn again to offer a solution. He tells Nathan of a lake clearing just half an hour’s drive away from Mordhaus. Located in the woods, but not so deep that it's scary. He tells Nathan he’s taken Charles there on a few occasions. Mentions it's peaceful, and at night, reflects the sky perfectly. Satisfaction guaranteed. Skwisgaar tells Nathan to bring a blanket, and make sure it’s big enough for two. He reminds Nathan to ask questions about her day, and not tell her what she did wrong. No offering answers. Toki pipes in again and lets Nathan know all the gross, sugary wines Abigail liked to drink while watching her shows, and what kinds of crackers, cheeses and chips she snacks on during the later hours of the night. Murderface hands him a certified Planet Piss condom and wishes him good luck.

Nathan waits a few days before popping the question, and picks up on her distress when he mentions the hour of the hypothetical date. With a straight face, he tells her not to worry, but this date number four, and the pattern beforehand suggests the opposite. Still, Nathan remembers the notes offered by the band and keeps himself in check when he considers adding more to the event. Fireworks, maybe? Or hire some lousy symphony to play classical crap while they dine under the stars? Maybe he could get a pyrotechnics machine and add a bit of flare to the night? Fancier snacks? Better wine?

It takes a few blows from Pickles to remind Nathan this isn’t about him impressing her, but about listening.

Keeping it… simple.

...

They had been driving for about twenty minutes when Nathan ordered the driver to make a rough left turn, steering the limo off the main road, and onto a more secluded, dirt path. Abigail notices the tinted windows go black once they make the turn, and asks what Nathan has in store for her. He produces a sly grin, but keeps his lips tight. She thinks he’s being coy, but Nathan’s actually quite nervous and his stomach flops at the possibility this was a stupid idea. He attacks the black nail polish with the ends of his thumb nail when she tries peering out the window for any light, a clue to indicate what sort of trickery Nathan had in store for her. Ten minutes later, the vehicle slows to a halt, and Nathan informs Abigail they’d arrived at the spot.

He’s the first to exit the limo, and is greeted by the silent, luminous glow of the moon, followed by that distant shimmer of water wafting in the distance. Nathan is quick to offer Abigail his hand. Still surprised by the short trick, Abigail exits the limo warily, hand clasping to Nathan’s tightly as he guides her to the clearing.

Abigail looks around the scene. There are only about a dozen klokateers assigned to the area. Not the several she's used to dealing with. Some hover over a small table hosting a candlelit dinner, while a few more stand by with a cart filled with covered plates of food. Another klokateer holds a bottle of sangria she’s sure she recognizes, and a klokateer approaches the table with amps playing some lo-fi mixes she knows she’s listened to on occasion.

In the distance there’s a massive lake reflecting the moon’s light, shimmering and wafting gently against the late autumn breeze. The clearing blocks off most winds, cuts out most of the moans left being cold gales. It’s…pleasant. Her eyes lift to the speckled night sky hosting an array of sparkling stars and distant galaxies.

“This is…” She feels Nathan squeeze her hand. “Really nice,” she says, dropping her gaze and settling Nathan’s hidden worries with a smile. Their shared relief spread across the scene, and upon meeting her smile, yanks her close into a perfect embrace. Abigail gasps, shuts her eyes and fights a yelp as she’s lifted and spun, and though he utters some high-pitched complaints, enjoys the massive warmth of his arms cradling her form.

The spin ends, and they settle. Abigail rests her head against Nathan’s broad chest. Music continues to play and get lost in the clearing, and after a few seconds of repetitive beats, hears Nathan’s low voice start to pick up on the rhythm and follow along.

Obviously someone’s had a hand in the planning, she thinks as Nathan begins to sway, inviting her into a stiff, awkward dance that’s more a standing display than actual dancing. Yes, there’s no doubt about it that Nathan received help from outside sources, and Abigail already knows she can blame Toki for the music and booze, but can’t figure who picked out the location, and what genius thought it was a cute idea to try and teach Nathan how to dance to her favorite mixes. But, it is cute, and the fact Nathan picked her music over the screams and trills of fast-paced guitars, and drove her someplace so close to home and not a thousand miles away, is more than enough for her. Abigail almost thinks to hand her phone to a gear and have them take a snapshot, but knows this is already a lot for Nathan. The poor guy’s likely out of his element, and is praying that a small buffet of snacks, music with advertisement, and a few fold out chairs set besides a lack will be enough.

He takes to her the table and orders a few gears to serve Abigail her first course. Abigail catches glimpses of his harsh stare ease when he turns, the wrinkles around his eyes vanish each time he turns towards the light to meet her, conservative smile turning bashful and hands clawing at the polish when he finally settles and asks in a shockingly soft voice, “Do you, uhh, like it or not?”

“This is perfect,” she answers, and chuckles when she watches his shoulder drop in relief. To think such a big man could harbor so much worry. She takes his hand in her hers and watches his attention hone in on her fingers clasping. Once trapped, his eyes meet with hers, and they lack their usual grim design, replaced with an open, puppy-eyed look that melts Abigail. “Thank you, Nathan. I…”

A flash of light above catches her attention.

Nathan probes. “Something wrong?”

“Look up.”

He does, and when he breaks from Abigail to meet her in the sky, spots the elongated tails of shooting stars racing across the clear night sky. His hand goes limp in her as he stares at the streams of light bursting through the night sky. Music fades and starts over, and klokateers raise lanterns in the surrounding trees to help establish a stronger mood, though neither date seem to notice or care.

Nathan squeezes her hand. “S’real nice.”

“Very pretty.”

He’s head drops, and Abigail catches the unnatural flow of dark hair temporarily obscuring his face before he fixes it, then faces her.

“Not as pretty as you,” he declares with a steady, but gentle whisper.

Abigail’s confident none of the boys told him to be humble, and finds the uncharacteristic change in tone endearing. Shifting between the stars above, and the one facing her at the table, Abigail determines the night a success, and figures she’ll ask Nathan which members of the band helped guide him through the night at a later point in time. For now, she lets Nathan have this, and immerses herself in the simple, but effective spectacle of their date.

“You’re sweet, Nate,” she says, leaning forward and holding in a snort when he hesitates, holds a charge, but then adjusts his movement to carefully meet her halfway. A large star shoots across the sky, flashing a ray of light above him, and Abigail can make out something promising in the man’s eyes, handsome features she’s noticed, but never acknowledged until now.

Another star hails light over them as one shadow closes the gap, startling the other with an unexpected, but welcomed kiss.

#ficlet ask thing #coldethyl75 #nathan explosion #abigail remeltindtdrinc #nategail #thank you

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diddlesanddoodles · 5 years ago

Text

Dumpling ch 25

Three parts muddled meadowsweet, two parts crushed licorice root, one part muddled ginger, and seven parts vinegar. Steeped for a week and dilute with honey water before consuming to sooth the discomfort caused by heartburn.

“Probably the most widely used tincture here,” Farris told her. “We have plenty still in storage, so there’s time enough fer ya to learn it proper like.”

He gave her the already measured out ingredients and had her simply practice muddling them in the mortar, which was a hard enough task in and of itself. The stone pestle was heavy and she needed both hands to proper grasp it. She had only just been working at it a few minutes with Farris watching over her when his laugh broke her concentration. He was shaking his head and she furrowed her brows at him.

“This is hard!” she proclaimed defensively.

“Ah, thought it looked easy, did ye?”

“It’s really heavy...” she whined. “And you’re a lot stronger than I am...”

“Oi, yer not quitin’ on me are ye, gal?”

She frowned at him stubbornly. “No!”

He seemed pleased with her answer. “Good. Now keep at it,” he told her with a jerk of his head in an encouraging gesture. He left her then to her own work and with a stubborn determination, she pressed on. Once the flowers and ginger had been mashed to the consistency that Farris wanted, she scooped it out into bucket. After rinsing the bowl with some vinegar, she used the pestle to smash up the licorice root. It only needed to be broken open to proper steep later so it was not quite as arduousness. The jar of vinegar was as tall as she was and filled almost to the top. She had to climb onto an overturned ramekin to to be able to reach high enough to dump the ingredients. She watched the debris of the flowers and crushed ginger slowly float down while the licorice root dropped fairly fast and settled at the bottom. For something meant to make a person feel better, it sure smelled bad. The smell of ginger was not too awful, only that it was pungent and clung to her fingers, but she did not care at all for the smell of the licorice. When Farris returned to check on her, her held the jar up to the light and hummed approvingly. “Not terrible fer ya first go at it.”

He sealed the jar and put it away inside a chest with other similar jars. For the rest of the day, Farris had her working on more of the meadowseet tinctures until she was able to make it from start to finish on her own and only needed Farris to fill a jar with vinegar for her and seal it once it was done. Nenani found it oddly pleasant change of pace for Farris to actually be pleased by something she did rather than exasperated.

…………………………….

In the end, Farris declined to attend Gregis’s funeral, but sent his condolences and several gifts of foodstuffs with the attending Vhasshalan party as well as a message to the presumptive successor, Warrick.

“It’ll be a day or so before he sends any message back,” Farris was telling Bart. “I’m not sure how much Gregis shared with ‘im about the arrangements, so the sooner he’s up to speed the better.”

“When do you expect t’ be making another trip?”

“Next week at the earliest,” Farris answered. “Unless Keral hears anythin’ different, but he’s got a tick up ‘is arse about somethin’ else and hasn’t answered my last note.”

“Seems like they’ve been much quieter this year. Not as many. Might be a sign that they’re finally stoppin’.”

“Aye. Had ourselves a dozen or so this time last year. We’re only sittin’ on four or so now. Five if ya include the Dumplin’.”

Bart let out a breathy snort through his nose. “Wouldn’t count her in the lot. She came to us by basket, not the markets.”

“Not much difference,” Farris replied. “If they’d ‘a found her at any point during the journey, she wouldn’t be here right now. Could have very well ended up in that market.”

“Well, best be thankin’ whatever stars she was born under that it didn’t happen that way.”

Farris nodded. “Believe me, Bart. I do.”

…………………….

By the morning Jae arrived to drag her on a tunnel exploration, Nenani had all but forgotten about the entire conversation they had regarding that very thing. She had just finished her ninth successful tincture when he suddenly popped up on the table next to her. He wasn’t wearing his fine clothing and instead had opted for his preferred outfit of trousers and a tunic. She jumped when his head suddenly popped up from the table’s edge and he loudly greeter her. “MORNING!”

“Ah!” the empty bucket she had been holding went flying and bounced several times before rolling off the side of the table. From the next prep table over, Avery was loudly laughing.

“You scared me!” she whirled on Jae as he climbed up, breathlessly laughing.

“Oh boy,” he said, brushing off the front of his shirt. “I really got you good.”

She threw a piece of licorice root at him and he turned away just as it hit his upper shoulder. He was still giggling like an idiot as she walked over to the edge of the table and looked down to see her bucket in the grass far below.

“Forget it,” Jae told her. “Besides, we got tunnels to explore today, remember?”

She bristled, having done just that. Forget, that is.

“Can’t,” she replied simply. “I’m making tinctures.”

Jae looked over at her set up and tiled his head at her curiously. “Uh...why?”

“Farris gave me a job,” she replied proudly, sitting down next to her mortar and pestle and began to break meadowsweet into manageable pieces and dropping them into the bowl. He watched her for a moment as she ground the blossoms.

“He’s having you make heartburn tonic?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” Jae didn’t say anything else and just quietly sat down. Propping his head up in his hands, he watched her work and was quiet for several long moments. She glanced at him periodically, viewing him with deep suspicion. But he simply sat there, placid and still. Behind him, Nenani noticed Kol walking over with a bucket of water to fill up one of the cauldrons. His eyes briefly glanced their way, but he continued on with his work.

“So, how long will it take?” Jae asked finally. “Until you’re done, I mean.”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Until he tells me to stop.”

Her eyes caught sudden movement and she turned to see Kol standing behind Jae, a wicked smirk playing on his lips while Jae remained ever unaware. Jae opened his mouth to say something just as Kol slammed both of his hands down on either side of the boy and shouted, “MORNIN’!”

“SON-OF-A-!” Jae jumped and scrambling to his feet, but slipped and just ended up face flat on the table. Above him, Kol doubled over as he belly laughed himself to the point of not being able to breathe.

“Fuck you, Kol,” Jae said, making a rude gesture in the cook’s direction. “Just...fuck you.”

“Sorry, lad,” Kol said once he was able to breathe. “I couldn’t not...”

Jae pushed himself up onto his elbows and sighed. “Get all our jollies out?”

Kol smirked and put his finger to his lips in mock consideration. “Hm...not sure yet. Might be - AH!”

Farris smacked a hand across the back of Kol’s head as he walked up behind him. “Get back to it, Kol. Ye can pester the humans after ye done yer fuckin’ job.”

Jae did nothing to mute the very satisfied grin as Kol walked away, nursing his sore head. And then winced when Farris tapped him on the head, just hard enough to smart.

“As fer you, lad,” Farris continued. “Won’t Donal be missin’ ya? Or ya shirkin’ yer new job already?”

“I’m not shirking anything,” Jae replied. “It’s my day off.”

Farris grunted. “Must be nice.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. Not my fault you never actually take yours. And don’t say you don’t have them, because I’ve seen your contract,” Jae said, pushing himself to his feet. “In any case, I’m hear to steal your ward for the day.”

Farris raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And where might ya be stealin’ her off to?”

Jae grinned. “We’re gonna go look for dead people in the tunnels.”

The particular face that Farris made was one Nenani was not familiar with. He looked equal parts horrified, angry, and incredulous. “Yer fuckin’ what?”

Nenani buried her face in her hands, groaning. “Jae, it sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“And just what other fuckin’ ways are there fer ya to say that it don’t sound bad?” the giant demanded. “And what do ya mean by dead people in the tunnels?”

“That day she lost her marker?” Jae explained, sounding far too excited. “Yeah, she found some other tunnel and there was this room full of dead people. Like...graves. Old ones. Human. We’re gonna go find it.”

Farris pinned Nenani with a look. “And just when were ya gonna say anythin’ about this, hm?”

She squirmed under his gaze and when she didn’t answer him, he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods piss on it...”

“So, can I borrow her for a bit?” Jae asked, his face pleading.

“So long as ya bring her back before sundown,” Farris replied gruffly and then pulled a slip of paper from his apron. He carefully rolled it up and then held it out to Jae. “And ya can be givin’ this to Maevis fer me while yer at it. Yer day off be damned.”

Jae eagerly reached out and grabbed the roll of parchment and tucked it under his arm, giving the spice master a lazy salute. “Can do, Farris.”

…………………………………………

Nenani regretted not speaking out to say that she was in fact very uninterested in trying to find the catacombs again. She was sure Farris would have told Jae to bugger off or something if she had said so. She really needed to learn to speak up more.

“After I drop this with Maevis,” Jae was saying. “I figured we could start near the tapestry you described and try to find the door you left from.”

“Okay,” she said. “But, just...if is it alright with you if we do find it that...that I don’t go in?”

Jae looked at her. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?”

She frowned and stared at the floor pensively. “They...kind of...sort of...spoke to me.”

Jae did not say anything and she could feel his eyes on her and she was beginning to feel real unease until at last he spoke. “Huh. That’s kind of neat. What did they say?”

“Huh? Oh,” she said, taken aback by his lack of surprise. “The gold prophecy. The one about the King.”

“So...you think you might have a bit of foresight then?” he asked her and then laughed. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t be foresight since it’s already happened. What makes you able to talk to dead people? Necromancy?”

“Why is it funny?”

“It’s because the gold prophecy is a joke,” he told her. “You either believe it wholeheartedly or think it’s complete bunk. Most folks I know tend think it’s bunk.”

“I don’t even understand what it’s even saying.”

“It stars with ‘The river runs uphill to the dying songs of the fall of fools and Kings that tear flesh from bone and the crown from the mountain.’ That’s suppose to be about the murder of Prince Thadeus and the Blood King declaring war on Silvaara. The next bit is ‘Water runs red with fire and shall rise when the old blood runs new.’ The interpretation I’ve heard most about is that it’s about the battle of Riftside where the Fire Mages set the Daehil river on fire to stop the Vhasshal advancement. One of Warren’s brothers died there. The last part is ‘The flesh taken will be paid in blood and the dead walls will rise with gold.’ This one everyone seems to agree is about the Blood King being usurped and Warren taking the throne. And that’s why everyone calls him the Gold King. But never call him that to his face. He really doesn’t like it.”

“Why does he hate it so much?” she asked.

“Lots of reasons,” Jae replieed. “But I think he hates it because it reminds him of what his father and brothers did. They committed genocide and reinstated the act of eating humans. He hates it because even though they did all that terrible stuff, they were still his family and he still loved them. Probably still misses them too.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Nenani mulled over Jae’s words. She supposed it would really hard on someone to still love a person who did terrible things. It was probably really hard to mourn them. But her thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the library. Upon entering, Nenani was greeted by the distinct smell of parchment and ink.

“Hey Barnaby!” Jae called as they began to climb the human stairs carved into the table’s center support that led up onto Barnaby’s workspace. “I’ve got a message for Maevis from Farris. Can I leave it with you?”

“Absolutely, my boy. Come on up!” came the somewhat muffled response from the archivist. They stepped onto the table top and made their way to where Barnaby was sitting at a human sized table and drinking a cup of tea. Belatedly, they realized he wasn’t alone. Another human was sitting with their backs to them, also enjoying a cup of tea. Suddenly Jae stopped and Nenani bumped into him.

“Oof, ah. Sorry,” she said and looking at Jae’s face, she frowned. “Uh...Jae?”

He was staring wide eyed at the stranger and Nenani glanced their way just as they turned around in their chair.

“M...Maevis?!” Jae asked incredulously. Nenani starred uncomprehending. The man who sat in the chair did look like Maevis. He wore the same maroon robes and his hands were gloved and he had the same round amiable face and brown hair. But...he was tiny! Well, tiny for a Vhasshalan. He was as tall as a human and had they never met before, Nenani would have never known he was actually a giant. Still with the rolled up note tucked under his arm, Jae ran over to the table to stop by Maevis’s side. The magician was grinning at Jae’s slack jaws expression. “You...you’re...”

“...smaller?” Maevis finished with a knowing smile. “Amazing isn’t it? I’ve been working on my shrinking spells for years now, but I’ve finally found the proper methods to shrink myself. What do you think?”

Jae’s eye lit up with enthusiasm and excitement. “You look ridiculous!” Jae told him with a laugh. “I mean...wow. This is actually amazing. Not that you don’t do amazing spells already, but...this is so much more...wow.”

“Thank you, Jae,” Maevis replied with a bright smile and patting the boy on his arm. “I’m happy to know I have your approval.”

Jae suddenly recalled the note and held it out for Maevis with a smile of amused smugness. “This is for you. Sorry it’s a little more cumbersome than you’re use to.”

Maevis’s made a face as he took the rolled up note, it’s size awkward at his new height, and for several moments he floundered on what to do with it. Finally, he set it to lean against the table. “Oh. Thank you, Jae. I...I will read it later. I have a feeling I know what it is.”

Jae immediately slipped into one of the other spare seats and started in on Maevis with his questions. “So? How weird is it to be small?”

Maevis shook his head indulgently and spared his young companion a warm smile. “The first time I succeeded in shrinking myself it was horribly disorienting. That and the fact that the potion did the trick in shrinking my body, but...well, it does not work on clothing.”

Jae snorted into his hands.

“So I had to use the shrinking spell in line with the shrinking potion and get the ratios just right. Endlessly challenging, but such a triumph to have succeeded! And I must say how wonderful a feeling it is to be able to talk with you all on equal footing. I imagine craning your neck up at us all day long becomes quite tiresome.”

“Neck pain is just an inevitability,” Jae shrugged. “Why do you think I hang out on shelves so much? Oh, hey, Nenani, come over here. It’s just Maevis. He won’t bite. Plus he’s smaller so it wouldn’t be as bad even if he did.”

Nenani hadn’t realized that she had not moved at all and when Maevis turned to look at her over his shoulder, his face enigmatic, she had a brief moment where all she saw was not the sweet man before her, but the hard lined face of an angry Vhasshalan magician as he burned an attacking wyvern to cinders. A pain throbbed between her eyes and she winced, holding her head as an incomprehensible chant echoed in her head. She heard a chair squeal as it was pushed out from the table and rushed footsteps. Gentle hands gripped her shoulders and Maevis knelt down in front of her.

“Does it still pain you, little one?” he asked softly, his honey colored eyes soft and concerned. He gently ran his gloved hand across her forehead. “I have some tonic for the pain...”

“I’m okay,” she said, blinking rapidly as though to wave the lingering ache between her eyes away. “It’s gone now.”

He stared into her face as though trying to determine if she was lying, but then he closed his eyes with a resigned sigh. “Good.” he said. “I would hate to think you’re wandering around the castle if you should still be in your recovery bed.”

“I’m alright,” she said and when he raised an eyebrow at her she protested. “I am! Ask Sawyer!”

“No need,” Maevis chuckled. The sleeve of his maroon robe fell back and Nenani could see the bandages still wrapped around his arm. “I’m sure she took excellent care of you.”

“Maevis?” She asked timidly, the evidence of his injury making her insides squirm. “I actually wanted to thank you. For saving me from the Wyvern.”

The magician looked startled for a moment and then smiled at her, but it seemed forced. Sad even. “Oh. Oh, my dear. You do not have to thank me.”

“Yes I do!” she insisted. “You were really brave and I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

Maevis cupped his hands around her face and laughed. “You’re terribly sweet, Nenani,” he told her and bristled when she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Ah-!”

“Thank you,” she said softer, her voice muffled by his robes. She felt his hands wrap around her to return the hug and his laugh shake her just a little.

“I believe this is the first time I’ve ever hugged a human. Properly at least.”

“OH MY GOD!” Jae suddenly yelled, startling them all badly. Poor Barnaby who had been silently drinking from his tea cup jumped and sent the cup flying through the air before gravity pulled it back down and it shattered on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Maevis asked standing up and pulling Nenani to his side protectively, his face full of worry. “Jae?”

“I just had the best idea!” Jae said with excitement and then looked over to see Barnaby kneeling on the floor and picking up the shattered cup. “Ah! Sorry Barnaby. Let me help.”

“My goodness young master Jae,” Barnaby said as the young man started cleaning up the spilled tea with a rag. “What was that hullabaloo all about?”

“Oh! Yeah, so my idea!” Jae turned to Maevis, his eyes bright with unbridled energy. “You should come explore the tunnels with us today. You never could because...well, you were too big. But now you’re small!”

“Explore the tunnels?” Maevis asked, confused but intrigued. “I would have thought you were the expert on the tunnels.”

“I am,” Jae replied with a prideful smirk and then pointed to Nenani. “But she found a corridor I didn’t know about...”

“Jae,” she whined, already knowing where he was going. “Please don’t...”

“...and there was a room full of dead people!”

Barnaby slowly stood with the broken tea cup in his hands, regarding Jae as though he were concerned that he had lost his mind. Maevis had an equally bewildered expression.

“Please find a better way of explaining it,” Nenani begged him. “It sounds so bad when you just say it like that.”

“Nah,” Jae replied with an impish grin. “The reactions are the best part.”

“Alrigtht,” Maevis said, his tone oddly serious. He placed his hand gently on Nenani’s shoulder and steered her to stand next to Jae so he could look at them both. “What exactly do you mean by ‘room full of dead people’?”

“There’s a catacomb,” Jae said. “A bunch of old graves and bones.”

“Vhassalan graves?”

“No,” Jae replied. “That’s the weird thing. She said they’re human graves.”

Maevis looked into Nenani’s face, his eyes seeking. “Is this true? You found a human catacomb in the tunnels?” Nenani squirmed under the scrutiny and wished she had never said anything at all.

“Nenani, dear?” he pressed.

“She’s just scared because they spoke to her,” Jae said. Maevis closed his eyes and sighed in restrained irritation.

“Jae, my boy. I appreciate that you are only trying to help,” he said sternly, but tried to keep his voice measured. “But I need to hear her speak. Please.”

The young man blushed and nodded, slipping into a chair. “Sorry.”

“Now,” Maevis said gently. “Nenani?”

She bit her lip nervously. “When Creag chased us that day and I got lost. I found an entrance to the tunnels, but when I went inside there weren’t any orbs or light at all.” Maevis did not say anything, but lightly inclined his head in clear encouragement to continue. “And I kind of walked around in the dark for a little bit and then this torch just...kind of lit up.”

The magician’s eyes narrowed as he considered her words. “A torch?”

She nodded. “But the fire was weird. It didn’t burn and wasn’t hot and didn’t...really look like fire.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was...kind of wavy, but...like this,” she moved her hand back and forth, trying to imitate the way she remembered the flames slowly danced. Maevis’s expression made her nervous. “And there were more of them and the when I got to the end, there was a big room with holes in the walls and...there were bones inside. People.”

Maevis rubbed his chin pensively as he contemplated what she had said. “And you say they...spoke to you?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes.”

“What did they tell you?”

“...they just kept repeating the Gold Prophecy.”

Maevis’s serious and thoughtful composure slipped and he looked at her with an expression of incredulity. “What? That old thing again?”

She only shrugged, her brows furrowed. She looked down at her feet, her hands wringing. “It’s everywhere...”

“Nenani,” he said patiently, cupping her cheek and bending down to look her in the eye. “I know such things sound terribly frightening. And that is not to say they cannot be dangerous. But it is important to remember this about prophecies: they are often lies wrapped in a thin veil of truth.”

“But why did they speak to me?” she asked, feeling the prickle of tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

The magician’s eyes softened and he looked at her sadly. “Do you remember when you asked me to evaluate whether you had been cursed?”

“Yes,” she said. “I do.”

“Well, my dear child, I am afraid I was not completely honest with you at the time. It is true what I said; there isn’t a speck of malignant magic about you,” he was quick to explain, but then paused as though mulling something over in his head. He sighed deeply and told her, “...but you are touched by magic.”

“...touched?” she asked quietly, not understanding him.

“Yes. Those who are touched by magic often draw arcane forces to them under no fault of their own. Magic is attracted to magic by its very nature the same way two water droplets will pull towards one another as they fall down a pane of glass. And wild magic can be very damaging if proper protections are not put into place. I believe that may be why your village thought you were cursed.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but it died on her lips.

“Now, you have not done anything wrong, little one. I need to you understand and believe it. I do not know why these graves are there or who they use to be,” Maevis brushed his finger under her eye to wipe away a tear. “But you do not need to fear them. If these spirits had any ill will or intentions, I would know about it.” He paused and then said, “They may even be trying to help you.”

“It won’t go away,” she whispered, her throat feeling tight and it was hard to speak. “I hear it everywhere. In my dreams. All the time. And then the attack happened and….he came. In my dreams, they said he would come and he did. I don’t know what they want. Keral doesn’t think he’s after me, but I can’t help but think it. I’m scared, Maevis. The smoke mage...he scares me so much.”

Maevis pulled her into his arms and tucked her head into his shoulder as she shook with emotion and fear. “The Smoke Mage will never get close enough to harm anyone. And by the Gods, I most certainly won’t let him ever harm you.”

She could hear the distant clang of metal upon metal and her uncle screaming at the smoke mage as they battled on the boat. Her heart ached as she recalled the image of her dear uncle’s face as he bled out and his bright eyes fall dull and dark. His kindness and strength had felt immeasurable to her back then. But he died. Like so many others. Like her father... and mother...

“...I think he killed my uncle.” Her voice was so low that she wasn’t even certain she had said the words. But she felt Maevis’s arms around her stiffen. She started to weep into the maroon robes. “I don’t think Keral is right anymore. But I really wanted him to be right because I know he would do his best to find the Smoke Mage and stop him and I know you are too, but...”

“Nenani...”

“...he’s looking for me,” she sobbed. “He’s trying to find me. But I don’t know why!”

The arms round her shifted and she was unexpectedly swept up into the magician’s arms. He held her tightly and swayed back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and for a moment, she could almost pretend he was her uncle and not a temporarily shrunk Vhasshalan magician. “Shh. No tears, little one. Shh...oh, you poor child.”

“This Smoke Mage is a mad man,” Barnaby said, his face hard and pensive. He had been mostly silents, content to watch and observe, but there was pain in his eyes. “He has power yes. But he is still human and only one at that. He can be stopped.”

“The might of Vhasshal is behind us,” Maevis said to them all, still rocking Nenani. “He will not succeed in whatever his intentions are.” He spoke to Nenani then, voice quiet and reassuring. “My dear, think of all the people who love you; Farris, Yale, everyone in the Kitchens. Lolly, Barnaby and I. Jae here. We will not let him harm you.”

Maevis lowered her into one of the chairs and pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping her face and petting her hair as she composed herself.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” she told him, tears pouring out of her.

“Nor will they.”

“How can you know?”

“It is my intention to uncover his machinations,” Maevis told her firmly, a flash of the hard faced man returning. “What purpose he has for you, I do not know. But Keral and I intend to find out. And perhaps we will start with these catacombs of yours. They may offer us some clues. Perhaps they may even lead us in the right direction, if the bones feel exceptionally chatty today.”

#Dumpling #G/t story #Fantasy #writing #g/t #giant #Vhasshal #Maevis #Barnaby #Jae #Farris #Nenani #Kol #hurt/comfort

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ask-de-writer · 4 years ago

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 83 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 83 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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“Why, one,” said Master Juris, bothered now by where the questions might lead. Master Clard and the others all followed in a ragged chorus, “One.”

“Could you all hear the drum talk between the ships?” Kurin had hands on hips now, and determination in her tone.

Again the chorus of yeses sounded.

“So, you knew that Mister Kotance was attempting to seize my personal property on the pretext that I was only a child as Master Juris just tried to claim as well? That he was trying to take a ship and murder people that you all knew very well were seeking redress of wrongs done to them by the fleet? Then you just stood by and let at least a quarter of the crew risk Scattering for participation in piracy? It wasn’t until Mord Halyn, whom I still regard as my Captain, tried to deal with the results of the piracy’s failure that you, your apprentices and journeymen finally emerged in spite of the guards and took over, as you should have done at once.

“Now you throw in our faces the attempt to save you from the results of your own folly?” Kurin finished severely, “Take the Wergeld offer. Save your ship. Or take the Fleet Law and lose it.”

While the Longin’s abashed officers and Masters conferred, Kurin turned to Tanlin. “Thanks for that hug. I really needed it.”

“Oi know,” she replied. “Ye needed ‘Igh Cloud too.”

Softly, Kurin asked, “Lady — Captain Tanlin, can you take something from me?”

“I’ tis w’at Oi suspect tis, nae. Nae now,” Tanlin answered equally softly. “Just now, we’re tryin’ t’ save t’em, nae drive t’em onto a reef — in a storm — wit’ a Dragon-tide t’ ‘elp t’ings along.”

The Longin’s conference was brief. It was Master Clard who spoke for them. In a clear voice he said formally, “Your Honors, Kurin, the Longin wishes to formally apologize to you all, and you, Kurin, especially. Master Juris spoke from passion, not thought. He was angry and let his feelings get the better of him.

“For the rest, a majority of us have decided to hear out the Wergeld idea. If we do not, it would appear that we are dismasted and sinking with no help in sight. Make your offer.”

Kurin stood up, relief clear on her countenance. “The first part of the agreement is common to all Wergeld agreements. It is simply the rules of the Wergeld. You must acknowledge the wrongs in dispute and publicly agree to the settlement that we bargain out. The settlement will have the force of fleet Law once reached. It is between us alone. It may not be used as a precedent or in any future criminal or civil action not directly related to the terms of this understanding. Things said or admitted in this Wergeld may not be used against either of us in future legal action, civil or criminal. Any future charges brought must stand on their own merits and may not derive from this agreement. Last, all grudges and feuds between the parties of this Wergeld must be put aside or the whole thing is voided and the Law will take its proper course.

“The wrongs in question have been listed already. They are not disputable. All else is subject to negotiation.

“The first term of the offer is this. Mister Kotance has already been separately charged. No term of this Wergeld shall be in any way binding on him.

“For our part, we have Mister Morgu and Silor who will have to be tried before the fleet for their mutiny, attempted murder and murder. This whole sad mess began and was caused by their hate. They also shall have no protection in this Wergeld.

“Can you agree with us so far?” asked Kurin hopefully.

Alor, the Longin’s Purser and legal officer, asked Captain Sarfin, “Before we say anything, will the Naral fleet agree to this — Wergeld thing?”

Sarfin steepled his hands, thought for a moment, and then conferred with Sula. He nodded and Sula spoke for the bench. “As one of the parties involved is Arrakan and we are not in Naral fleet waters, Arrakan Law and Custom may be properly invoked. The Third Great Law gives the Naral fleet no choice in the matter. They must enforce the Wergeld as agreed between you.”

“Then we can agree, so far, Kurin.” She tilted her head in sad puzzlement at one change that she had heard. “Us? We? Our? Kurin? Will you still leave us? What good will this do if we cannot have the school and the mapping contract?”

“Don’t be afraid, Alor,” Kurin reassured her. “I won’t abandon you to be Scattered. Some things do have to change, though.”

She turned and asked, “Barad, will you present the next term?”

He stood and smiled in a twisted sort of way. “I never thought to be in this position. Mord Halyn Longin, I have to apologize to you in particular. That I tried to stop the mutiny is no excuse for starting the plot in the first place. I was wrong. I am sure that my error brought you onto dry land for a time. I am also sure that you now have safe water under your keel. The term is this. The fleet must restore your Master’s Certificate and replace you at the helm of the Longin. They need you. If you don’t think so, just look at how quickly and to what extent they went out the scuppers without you.

“Besides, you were a guest at our Announcement Feast, so my old feud with you is dead or I lose my wife. Can you agree to this?” He held out his hand toward Mord, who appeared to be looking for some hook in what he had heard. At last, prodded by Alor, he shook Barad’s hand in agreement. He appeared to be disturbed that he owed his restoration, ship and freedom to Barad whom he had always thought of (correctly) as an enemy.

Tanlin stood and raised hands for attention. “As Ca’tain o’ t’e Grandalor, Oi ‘ave t’ bring t’e next part o’ t’e Wergeld. By t’e terms, Oi can bring up yer violation o’ t’e Fift’ Groit Law an’ ye cannae be charged in any way because even i’ t’is negotiation gets off t’e hook, we’ve let t’e matter go. As a result o’ t’at violation t’ree o’ m’ crew were killed an’ twa wounded. In t’e piracy attempt, a furt’er ane wa’ killed. T’e murderer ‘as been charged but ‘is chance came because nane o’ ye but Kurin tried t’ stop ‘t.

“We lost Lenai Halin, t’e best riggin’ surveyor an’ sail lofter in m’ experience. She wa’ a gentle soul ‘oo never raised ‘er voice t’ any. She spent many ‘ours at m’ bedside teachin’ m’ t’ read yer script an’ figure wit’ yer numbers. ‘Er son Arnat’s got nae mot’er now.

“Helmsman Macoul wa’ dead before ‘e ‘it t’e boat under ‘im. ‘E braved t’e Coriolis Storm, off ‘is wotch, t’ bring ‘ot food an’ drink t’ Barad an’ Darkistry as t’ey conned t’e ship int’ t’e eye o’ t’e storm. A good mon. Gone.

“Bosun Modanet ‘elped direct t’e rescue operations wen t’e Princamorn sank. ‘E an’ Barad pulled m’ oot o’ t’e woter an’ saved m’ life. Died on yer ship wit’ never t’e attention o’ a doctor. Cast overboard loike garbage.

“Our second day wotch drummer, Morga, a lad o’ fifteen. Nae older’ll ‘e get. Ripped apart an’ sent over t’e side by a Strong Skin catapult ‘arpoon aimed at Kurin an’ Darkistry.

“Like t’e mot’er Orca o’ Kurin’s tale, Oi’m surry for us bot’. We cannae bring t’em bock. Oi propose t’at ye pay Arnat ten skins a Gat’ering for ‘is maintenance. Any unused balance, an’ t’ere will be, is t’ go into ‘is Purser’s account as a nest egg for wen ‘e gets married. For Lenai, we ask an annual rigging an’ sail survey dune by t’e Mordan at yer expense. Any replacement cable or cordage is t’ be Mordan Twist. We split t’e cost o’ any sails needed. Oi ask yer ‘elp in Macoul’s case. Oi donnae know how t’ value ‘im. Oi wish t’at Oi’d known ‘im better.”

“We are not responsible for …” Master Juris started when Mord, Alor and Mistress Daeron all silenced him.

Mistress Daeron said, “Even in the Rope Walk, I heard the fog drum go silent. I knew that we were still in fog and I did not send to find the cause. I know that the rest of us did the same because we have all discussed it.

“I do not know whether anything would have changed if we had investigated. We cannot change it nor bring back your dead. We should have tried. That we are guilty of. We stood by and did not even try to do something when we knew that something was wrong. We heard the screams. All of us.”

Tanlin answered her, “For our part, we precipitated t’e incident. We approached ye under false colors. Ever’ member o’ t’at party bore a message from m’ t’ clear t’at up after t’ey had gotten aboard.” Tanlin paused and shook her head sadly, “We dinnae expect t’at nane o’ t’ dozen wad reach yer deck alive.

“We came t’ t’e Longin because we couldnae trust any ot’er ship except t’e Dorton, an’ we dinnae know w’ere she wa’. We ‘oped t’ speak t’ Kurin. At a ‘orrible cost we did. She ‘as repaid our trust better t’an we could ‘ave ‘oped. She’s even saved m’ Barad.

“T’e cost t’ ‘er wa’ equally ‘orrid. T’ ‘elp us, she’s lost ‘er ‘ome ship.”

Master Juris spluttered, “She has not. The Longin needs her. We couldn’t send her away. It would ruin us.”

Tanlin said scornfully, “W’at ye’ve just said makes t’e case. Nae part o’ w’at any o’ ye said wa’, ‘We luve ‘er.’ Since ‘er fat’er died, only five beings on t’is world ‘ave said, ‘Oi luve ye’ t’ ‘er. An’ t’ey were all birds.”

“Six,” Kurin interrupted, speaking to Tanlin. “You were part of the flock that came to save me from Captain Urson. And you have held and hugged me without needing a reason.”

Master Juris snorted, “We could do that.”

“T’en wye dinnae ye?” was Tanlin’s sharp retort. “Ye ‘ad six Gat’erings t’ ‘elp a child. All ye did wa’ teach ‘er an’ praise ‘er wen she did well. No ‘ugs. Naebody t’ ‘old. Just pain an’ emptiness inside, ‘eld at bay by learnin’ an’ work.”

A tear of gratitude leaked from Kurin’s eye as she said, “The last part of this Wergeld is this. We will settle all the remaining unsettled claims. I am the price you must pay. I have found a home on the Grandalor, not just a place to stay.

“Your Ship’s Business will remain safe, specifically, the mapping and charting, the navigation system, the Longin lace, and the fishing and shellfish taking and storage methods.

“I will come to the Longin to supervise and teach the school and also to map the Naral fleet waters according to your contracts. From each Fall Gathering to each Spring Gathering I will be aboard the Grandalor while she trades with the Arrakan, Daroff, and Pallant fleets. By the time that your mapping contract with the Naral fleet is done, if not well before, there should be others who can take over the school.

“That should complete the Wergeld and keep you safe from the Scattering that would otherwise be required. We have thrown you a line. Don’t drown.”

Kurin turned to Tanlin. “Captain Tanlin, I have something for you. It has nothing to do with the business of this Court. This is my own free choice and I want it seen and witnessed by all.” She held out her hands in the Arrakan style and knelt. Tanlin took Kurin’s small hands in her own as Kurin began, “I Kurin Behar Longin, now of the Grandalor alone …”

“I wish that I had known about this kind of love when I gave you your Gift,” said Blind Mecat softly. “I never got it either.”

-THE END-

<==PREVIOUS

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 83 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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thewhumperinwhite · 5 years ago

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FBI AU: Painkillers

Reasonable Question: hey Beau, where tf are your other wips right now why are you only posting this one? Answer: I have homework, and this is the only one I have pre-written :-)

@whumpitywhumpwhump bc ur comments are the only thing keeping me going at this stage lmao

TW for: explicitly referenced noncon, drugs, referenced domestic abuse, Various Medical Things, Cops

They want to take Simon off the case, which is actually kind of--fine with him at this point. The downside is that it takes some wrangling to get him in to see the kid when he wakes up, but Simon’s been working for the Bureau for long enough that when the people in charge see the look on his face, they let him through, even if they’re not sure they should.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting. Rona said the kid was lucid, but to be honest it seems like too much to hope for. He certainly isn’t expecting him to turn away from the Agent taking his statement to look at him with surprised recognition and rasp, “Hey, you’re not dead.”

Simon stares at him, aware that the duty officer--it’s Gus Chase, he realizes with the very small part of his brain not occupied with complete astonishment--is staring between him and the kid, startled.

“You--remember me?” Simon says, alarmed; the best case scenario would be that the kid remembers as little as possible, though maybe not for the case.

Heinrich Arthur Lange nods, a slight movement but still kind of mind-blowing; he’s limp against the pillow but the bed is angled upward and apparently his statement is making enough sense that Gus is taking it down, though he looks kind of green, poor guy.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, mostly to Gus, who shakes his head.

“A break might be good for both of us,” Gus says in his soft voice, and makes kind of a hasty exit.

“He seems nice,” Heinrich Arthur Lange says to Simon. His voice is a little mushy, because of how fucked up his lips are, but he doesn’t sound like he’s had a stroke.

Simon sits down. He isn’t sure he can talk yet.

“Tenor had a gun,” Heinrich Arthur Lange says, still sounding like the only obstacle to his speaking clearly is his torn-up mouth. “I figured he’d shot you.”

Simon shakes his head. Then he remembers that Tenor Bradshaw did, actually, shoot him, and he tries to clear the weird lump in his throat, though he doesn’t quite succeed. “He missed,” he rasps.

Heinrich Lange huffs faintly, and after a second Simon realizes to his complete bewilderment that he’s laughing. “Lucky,” he says.

“Lange,” Simon says, and the kid’s exposed eye flashes.

“Art,” he corrects immediately. Simon blinks. That name hadn’t occurred to him, though he realizes he doesn’t know where a person could go with “Heinrich.”

“Art,” Simon says, then has to stop to figure out what comes next. “You seem--you feel okay?”

Art makes that little airless huffing sound again; laughter when your throat and lips are swollen, Simon guesses. “I’m fucking blazed, pretty sure,” he says, almost conspiratorially.

It startles Simon into a smile, though it feels strange on his face. “I guess you must be. You should be hurting like hell, kid.”

Art glances down at himself; his arm is still in its sling and his leg is elevated so it doesn’t shift. “Yeah,” he says, like none of that is distressing at all. “I hear you got ‘im, though, so. Not that big a deal. And--is Tenor dead?”

Simon nods eagerly, since the kid sounds like it’s good news; it is good news.

Art smiles crookedly; it looks small and out of place under the cannula in his nose and Simon’s heart does a weird squeezing thing in his chest. “Nice,” Art says, and his hand twitches unbelievably into probably the best thumbs-up he can manage, though it seems to be a mistake. “Ouch,” he says, wincing and spreading his hand back out slowly. “He was a fucking creep. He got harder every time I screamed. Hope it hurt.” He says this without any change of expression. “Did he break my hip?”

Simon, who is beginning to feel like he’s having an out-of-body experience, nods helplessly.

“Bastard,” Art says calmly. “Hey, what’s your name, again?”

“Simon,” Simon says with numb lips. “Blake.”

“Cool. Did you kill him?” Art looks at him guilelessly, though the question makes all the air rush out of Simon’s lungs. He knows he must make some kind of face, though Art doesn’t seem to notice. Finally he forces himself to shake his head.

“My partner,” he croaks.

“Cool,” Art says again, almost grinning. “I don’t remember him.”

“Her,” Simon corrects without thinking. Then, still not thinking, he asks, “What do you remember, Art?”

Art looks up at the ceiling, thoughtfully. “I remember most of it, I’m pretty sure. You can ask your buddy, I think I got to the part where they kidnapped us already. He said I could see Karim once I gave my statement.” Art looks over at him, and Simon wrestles his face back under control. “He’s okay, right?” Art asks easily, he clearly already knows the answer, so he isn’t put off by the jerkiness of Simon’s nod. He relaxes back against the pillows, smiling dreamily up at the ceiling.

“That’s so great,” Art said. “I’m so glad it worked.”

“What worked, Art?” Simon says, his voice sounding weirdly quiet over the sick pounding of his heart in his ears.

“He was in a cult, y’know,” Art says. “He didn’t know he was in a cult. He didn’t believe me when I told him, but he was starting to when they killed me--when they tried to kill me, I guess.” He frowns thoughtfully. “I wonder if Micah meant to do that. If he didn’t kill me on purpose. I guess he might have wanted to keep fucking me,” Art says, like it doesn’t mean anything. Simon puts his hand over his mouth, trying to breathe through his nose; he feels a sudden deep sympathy for Karim Mun, puking all over his hospital sheets; Micah Trent nearly tore this boy in half.

Art must see the movement of Simon’s hand out of the corner of his eye; he turns to look at him curiously. Simon drops his hand and tries to force his face back to something neutral but he can see Art’s expression morph very slowly from mild confusion to something else, like he’s thinking very hard.

“You all know who I am,” Art says slowly, like he’s putting puzzle pieces together through all the painkillers he’s on. Simon nods, since they do, and Art looks at him, his one visible eye clearing, like he’s actually seeing Simon for the first time.

“Don’t let my father in,” he says, his voice very serious. “I don’t want to see him. Don’t let him in here.”

“What?” Simon says helplessly. He can hear voices outside; Art hasn’t been awake very long, in addition to the various agencies that need his statement there have to be nurses and doctors he needs to talk to, and several of them are coming through the door, but Art is looking at him, and Simon leans in close to hear what he has to say before a dozen more important people shuffle him out of the room.

“Simon,” Art says quietly, while the doctor taps Simon on the shoulder. “He killed my brother.”

----

Rona Cowl rarely looks impressed, but after Simon waves the file around in front of her and rants for fifteen minutes, she looks even more unimpressed than usual.

“I know how it sounds,” he tells her, deflating slightly.

“Uh huh,” Rona says. She’s slouching back in a waiting room chair with her arms crossed, the picture of unconcern. “Blake, when was the last time you left this hospital?”

“I’m not cleared to leave yet.”

“Right,” Rona says, drawing the word out in a way that makes Simon’s cheeks heat immediately. “Can I ask how you got that file, then?”

He got it from the police captain, who’s never worked with the FBI before and looked at his arm sling with something pretty near hero worship, and gave him the file on Michael Lange’s accidental death almost before he was done asking. “Doesn’t matter where I got it,” Simon says, and winces inwardly, since that’s worse than making up a lie.

Rona sighs and rubs at her temple, the closest she ever comes to admitting she’s tired. Simon remembers with a touch of guilt that she’s essentially running the case by herself since he’s out of commission.

“Simon,” Rona says, which is a bad start; using his first name is a cheap trick and Rona Cowl rarely resorts to cheap tricks. “Heinrich Lange is a republican senator.” Simon glowers, getting ready to argue any assertion that that makes him immune to scrutiny, but Rona goes on, “I’m totally ready to believe he’s an abusive prick. I’m pretty near ready to believe he’s a murderer. You know what I know for a fact he’s not, though?”

Simon glares at her, since he doesn’t have an answer.

“He’s not a cult leader. He’s not on the Most Wanted list. And he’s not my case right now.”

Simon knows she’s right, which immediately makes him angrier. “Rona, Art was--”

“Simon,” Rona says, sitting up, and really looks at him, in a way she rarely looks at anyone, no mocking in her eyes. “Heinrich Lange didn’t put his son in that hospital bed. Micah Trent did. And he’s got the money to hire lawyers bloodthirsty enough to take any distraction they can and open his cell door with it. You fucking know that.”

Simon does know it. He doesn’t drop Rona’s gaze, though. “Rona,” he says, almost desperate for her to understand. “Art knows that. But he didn’t ask me to keep Micah Trent out of his hospital room. He asked about his father.”

Rona shakes her head, though she looks a bit uncomfortable. “He knows we’ve got Trent in custody. He doesn’t need to tell us to keep him out.”

Simon sighs, runs his hand through his hair. He knows it’s more than that, but he doesn’t have any way to explain it to Rona other than to say he can feel it, and there’s no phrase Rona hates more than that one. “Fine,” he says, defeated, and tosses the file onto Rona’s lap. “I get it. One case at a time. You’re on door duty, though, if I’m not there.” He looks at her, makes her meet his eyes so she’ll know he’s deadly serious. “I don’t want Senator Lange within a mile of that hospital room. You didn’t hear him say it.”

Rona looks at him for a second, and then sighs and waves her hand. “Alright, alright, I hear you. I’ll keep an eye out.”

#FBI au #whump #original whump #hospital whump #painkillers #drugged whumpee #(art is a lot more open than he would normally be bc he's fucking High As A Kite)#referenced noncon #aftermath of noncon #domestic abuse whump

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sirius-archive · 6 years ago

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Champagne Kisses

Request: Georgie!!! Hey!!! Can I please have prompt 1, 5 and 18 with Steve Rogers??? Love your writing!!

Prompts: 1. That’s starting to get annoying, 5. I’m not here to make friends 18. What’s the matter, sweetie?

Prompts: Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: finally got around to finishing this!! First Drabble in the Drabble challenge! This is a first for this blog: a marvel imagine!! Pls request more.

In which Steve Rogers does not become an old man, Clint Barton is Single and Ready To Mingle, and Natasha Romanoff is [avengers endgame spoiler]

Enjoy!

***

In theory, the mission is fairly simple: Crash the rich dudes party, steal the biochemical weapon, and slap a lifetime sentence on said rich dude before he can take another sip of his ridiculously expensive champagne.

There is, however, one contingency that always seems to fuck theoretically simple missions up.

“Fuck!” Natasha’s voice is in your ear; a husky curse that tapers off into an irritated sigh, making the ear piece nestled in the shell of your ear crackle, “Dawson must have amped up the security once he got wind that the weapon’s in demand. There’s guards crawling all over the place. It’s starting to get annoying...”

Her words are cut off with a sharp grunt and you hear the crunch of broken bones low groans of pain as Natasha takes each one of them out. Glancing around the large ballroom, you spot several security guards loitering around the exit, looking equal parts bored and boring, and realise that Natasha is right.

“Well, it wouldn’t be any fun without a fist fight,” you sigh, twirling a ribbon of hair around your finger, chewing the velvety flesh of your cheek in annoyance.

“A woman after my own heart,” Natasha quips, a little breathless as you hear the crack of her knuckles against flesh.

“Tasha, you’d better not be flirting while I’m listening in,” You hear Clint quip, and you can almost hear the smirk tilting his lips as it curls up the edges of his words.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, your fingertips skimming across the spaghetti-string strap of your halter neck dress, “And what are you going to do about it, Clinton?”

“Don’t you worry sweetheart, I’ve always got something up my sleeve.”

You take an elegant sip from your flute of champagne, hiding your smirk, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Are you guys done?” Says a familiar baritone, and your breath catches in your throat.

Steve Rogers is several yards away, yet it feels as though he’s standing right behind you, hands on your hips and breath on your neck. Of course, the possibility of a romance with Captain America was something you only entertained in your sweetest dreams, but you supposed it was okay to fantasise...

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” you retort, sultrily, “We are only just beginning.”

“You’d better finish up then because we have a job to do...”

You can hear the smile in his tone, a touch of playfulness that seems to soften his scolding.

You shift in the bar stool, the delicate, smooth skin of your leg peeking out from the long slit in your satin, gold dress. You feel dozens of eyes swivel over your body appreciatively, drinking you in like golden champagne. In your previous life, that would have been the effect you were after. But tonight, you’re not here to steal hearts, only biochemical weapons.

“While you guys are having fun flirting and drinking champagne, I’ve actually been working,” Sams voice bites into your ear, his tone mingled amusement and exasperation, “I’ve scouted the area. Our escape route doesn’t seem to be affected by the additional security.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you were in here with me,” Natasha snaps.

“Clint, what’s your status?” Steve asks.

“Im in position, Cap,” Clint answers from a neighbouring rooftop, “Enjoying the view from up here.”

“I’ll need you on the ground with Romanoff,” Steve orders, “I’m moving into position.”

“We’re back on a last name basis?” Natasha says, the hum of her Widows venom buzzing in your ear, “Well that’s cold.”

You take another languid sip of champagne, taking in your surroundings.

Classical music swells from the orchestra, climbing up the wobbly, tumultuous ladder of a chilling crescendo as you watch the wealthy mingle with one another, shrill, careless laughter echoing. There was once a time when you were with them, either running a con or planning a heist. You never imagined that you’d be thrust back into this world again as an Avenger.

“(Y/N)?” Steve asks, his voice softening just slightly.

“I’m in position,” you answer, swirling your flute of champagne elegantly, “Waiting for your signal.”

“Good,” Steve commends, his voice sounding warm and clear, “By the way, gold really is your colour.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you turn, surveying the room. Steve is in the corner, dressed up like a daydream as he stares at you from across the room.

Your gazes clash.

Your heart freezes.

Steve crosses the room, sliding into the vacant stool next to you.

You recover quickly, ironing out your posture as you try to bury your emotions beneath a nonchalant mask.

“That was quick...” you murmur, and Clint snorts.

“Don’t say it—” Sam warns through the comms, but Clint is already speaking.

“—Title of your sex tape.”

A smirk curls around your lips, meeting Steve’s eyes for one charged moment, “Oh Clint, that’s certainly not the title of my sex tape...”

An adorable shade of pink dusts the apples of Steve’s cheeks and he quickly averts his gaze. Tilting your head at Steve, a simpering smile sprawls across your lips.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Cat got your tongue?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Steve glances at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth. His expression straightens and he looks around, “Seen Dawson anywhere?”

“Nope,” you smirk smugly, “He’s still knocked out in the closet I left him in.”

Steve smiles, regarding you warmly. There’s an intensity in his eyes that you can’t quite place, a sense of longing that makes the base of your spine tingle warmly.

“I got eyes on the weapon.”

Natasha’s voice shatters the moment. Steve shakes his head, drawing himself out of a lingering gaze.

“Excellent. Sam, where are you at with the security situation?”

“Working on it,” Sam grunts, slamming a guard into a wall.

“And I’m with Nat now,” Clint adds, panting slightly.

“You’re getting too old for this game, Barton,” you quip and you hear Clint sigh.

“You bet I am.”

“(Y/N) and I will extract the plans from Dawson’s diary,” Steve mutters into his comm, “We will meet at the rendezvous point.”

“Copy.”

“Copy that, Cap.”

Steve nods purposefully and the two of you glide smoothly off the dance floor, edging toward the closed off hallway inconspicuously.

After swiftly evading the security personnel, you finally arrive at Dawson’s private study. Recalling the blueprint you had stolen earlier, you locate the secret passage and enter through a hidden door, scaling down a spiral staircase until you reach the secret, underground lair.

“Well if this doesn’t scream cliche James-Bond-style villain lair, I don’t know what else does,” you retort, sauntering into the cold, damp lair.

The two of you split off into opposite directions, silently rushing around the room in search of the diary.

Steve dashes forward, moving briskly, until he finds a locked drawer. Using his superhuman strength, he wrenches the door open and steals Dawson’s diary; a heavy tome with a large, metal bracket locking it into place. You and Steve exchange a look.

“Think you can break into it?” Steve asks, raising a questioning brow at you. You grin.

“Finally, I get to do something fun around here,” you quip, a sharp blade of crackling psychic energy shooting out from your palm. You neatly slice through the lock, the jaws unhinging with a click and a hiss, clanging loudly onto the floor.

You gaze at the book, teeth digging into your bottom lip. How many times had you used your gift to steal, and yet now you were using your abilities to save the world? It was a startling realisation that had crossed your mind hundreds of times over the past year or so since you had joined the Avengers as a criminal searching for redemption.

“I never thought...” you whisper under your breath, trailing off into silence.

“Never thought what?” Steve asks from the opposite side of the room and you glance back at him, momentarily forgetting about his superhuman hearing.

“I just...” you begin, unsure of how to phrase the emotions you’ve bottled up inside of you, “...I’m still adjusting to the whole ‘Avengers’ thing...”

Steve pauses, hesitating, gazing at you with so much hidden meaning, you think for a moment that you must have imagined it. Just as you think he’s not going to speak...

“Change always takes some getting used to, trust me, I know,” Steve takes a step toward you, blue eyes genuine and unguarded as they consider you carefully, “But friends always make it easier and - well - you have us...”

You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on a sincere smile, “I’m - well - I’m not here to make friends.”

Steve slides a hand through his hair, “You can’t isolate yourself forever.”

You shrug, eyes not quite meeting his, “Doesn’t have to be forever, just until I’m sure about this...”

Steve frowns, expression rippling, “You’re not sure about us? About...” he trails off, blushing.

“No, not at all! Just, well, sometimes I feel like I’m not...worthy of this...”

Steve crosses the room, resting a warm hand on your shoulder as he ducks his gaze, peering into your eyes with a piercing gaze, “You don’t have to doubt yourself, (Y/N). Just you being here is enough, enough for everyone and enough for me.”

His hand lingers, and there’s so much sincerity in the clear, ceraluen depths of his eyes, you almost believe him. And then his fingers start to trail up your neck, calloused tips dancing across your skin until they tangle around a loose strand of hair and you melt into his touch, embracing it. You’re drawn to him, stepping closer, until you can connect the green flecks in his eyes like constellations, and your eyes flutter closed for a moment, his voice leaking into your mind, into your inner ear, crystal clear and overflowing with hidden yearning.

...Kiss her...

Without really thinking, you step forward, pressing your lips to Steve’s in a gentle kiss. Steve immediately responds, cupping your face with strong hands as he groans against your lips, his tongue gliding across the bottom cushion of your lip. You moan in response, parting your lips, and you taste champagne and mint and a hint of whiskey, and it’s like tasting sunlight in the early mornings, the ones you love the most, and you arch into him, raking your fingers through his hair and tugging him closer, closer, closer.

“Erm...you guys still there?”

Distantly, Sams voice breaks into your consciousness and you groan, reluctantly breaking away from Steve with an irritated sigh.

“We were kind of having a moment here, Wilson,” you snap, and Sams chortles trickle into your ear.

Plucking the comm from your ear, you carelessly toss it onto the desk with a smirk. Steve’s brows nearly graze his hairline, but he copies you anyway, and with a smirk, you step toward him.

“Now, where were we?”

****

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bloomara · 5 years ago

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almost safe pt.1 | ha yoonbin

+ pairing: ha yoonbin x y/n (female)

+ word count: 1.7k

+ genre: zombieapocalypse!AU, fluff

+ warnings: violence, le killing of le zombies, some swearing

+ summary: after months of travel, you, yoonbin and your group finally arrive at a community. rumor has it, it is one of the safest in the country, but are those just rumors?

+ parts: pt.1 | pt.2 | —

+ notes: i’ve been wanting to writing a zombie!AU for the LONGEST time and i finally got around to doing it! also: i know for sure that there will be 2 parts, but after that im not sure,, it depends on how many people want more parts!

You tredge behind your group, worn leather boots silent despite the forest ground being covered in fallen branches and crunchy autumn leaves. Your calves are beginning to ache due to the steep incline.

“Y/N!” Jihoon calls back to you, “C’mon, catch up!” You cringe. His voice is startlingly loud in the cautious quiet you had fallen into since you got to the woods. The others whip towards him and shush him.

Yoonbin is behind the group as well, but still several paces ahead of you. He turns and gives you a meek smile. Despite the pulse of pain going down your leg, you return his smile. He falls behind until he’s walking next to you. His presence is familiar, calming.

“We’re almost there,” he says, taking your hands in his. “Hyunsuk says it should be just over this hill.”

You nod, relieved. Your group had been walking through this forest all day. You first left camp at the crack of dawn. The sun was just rising over the far horizon, it’s orange and gold rays threatening to spill over the edge of the world. Now, it was behind you, and you were afraid that it would set before you made it to the new community.

If there is a community at all, that is. It was, of course, only a rumor. A rumor that had been passed on from person to person for who knows how long. Realistically, it could have gone down months ago and no one would have really known it.

You were so preoccupied in your thoughts that you didn’t noticed you were on the top of the hill until you bump into Doyoung. He doesn’t care, his eyes fixed on the land below the hill.

“It’s real,” he says, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper. “It’s actually real.”

You look up and your breath leaves you. At the bottom of the hill, there was a community. From this angle, you could see dozens of buildings, with up to three storeys. You could see a large patch of green, which you could only assume was a garden. All of this was surrounded by two rows of barriers — concrete, then wire fencing. It was an impressive setup.

You were was close enough that you could see a few people walking around, so small they could have been ants.

Behind the wire fence, patrolling the entrance attached to a rough, narrow road, were armed guards. There were three from what you could see.

One of them— a man, you could tell— froze when he saw your group. Even from this distance you could see his rifle shift in his hand. Yoonbin, noticing this at the same time as you, quickly lifted his hand in the air, a signal of goodwill. A moment passed and you held your breath.

You didn’t know these people. You didn’t know what they were like. It was a stupid idea, you thought, to go into the community head-on, completely blind. You should have scouted the place first, before you made your presence known.

You curl your fingers around the bottom of Yoonbin’s black windbreaker and are just about to pull him away when the man lifts his hand in return.

The boys around you grin. They start heading down the hill towards the tall fences.

Yoonbin looks at you, amused at your hand still on him. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine” he says calmly, seeing your frown.

You chew your lip, anxiety creeping up your neck. “What if it’s not?”

He rubs your arm softly, trying to calm you down. “Then we get out of there. If anything happens, or we sense that something’s off, we leave.”

You stare up at him, eyebrows creasing. “You say that like its easy.”

His smile is gentle, but his voice is only mildly exasperated. “Y/N.” He kisses your forehead. You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “We don’t know what it’s like until we go there and find out. If we need to leave, we’ll find a way out. We always do.”

You nod into the curve of his neck, mumbling an “okay” into his jacket.

Together, you make your way down the hill.

When you get to the gate, the man from before meets you at the entrance. You’re shocked at how young he is. From up close, you can tell that he was only around your age, maybe a year or two older. You were expecting a man far older than you. For some unknown reason, the sight of someone in their youth patrolling an area with a weapon still shocked you, despite being nearly a year and a half into the apocalypse.

He approaches your group cautiously, rifle in hand. “Here for sanctuary?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Hyunsuk answered, stepping forward.

He frowns, looking your group over. You suddenly feel insecure.

You knew that your camo pants were splattered in mud and was stained in blood no matter how hard you scrubbed. Your face was probably covered in sweat and dirt and blood. You also knew that everyone else in your group looked like that, too. You probably looked like a group of frenzied children who had been living in the woods for years, away from modern civilization. In a way, you kind of were.

This boy, on the other hand, could have passed for a completely normal kid, if it weren’t for the bulletproof vest and gun in his hand. You could tell that his clothing was decently clean. The only scuffed up part of him was his combat boots, worn for months, probably, and covered in blood and mud. At least you had that in common.

But he seemed completely unfazed by your appearances, rather taking in your statures, the way you all stood with your shoulders barely touching, the way your hands rested on the handles of your weapons, ready to jump to action the second it called. The way you glanced at one another, reading one another’s expressions with ease.

You thought you saw him nod in approval. Maybe he’d been there, too— once a part of a group who had been through hell together, quite literally. Who supported and protected each other no matter what.

“Alright, then.” He gestured to the other guard. She was tall with short cropped blonde hair, a mean scar running down her throat. She eyed them suspiciously, but helped him pull the fence aside. “Come on in. I’m Junkyu, by the way. We have safety precautions we have to follow before you enter the community.”

“Like what?” Yoonbin asks.

Junkyu doesn’t answer. He leads you through the entrance. In the middle of the concrete wall is a single heavy metal door. As he approaches it, it buzzes, and he swings it open. He holds it, waiting for you to move.

Everyone is visibly hesitant. You chew your lip nervously, your hand gripping the knife strapped to your thigh. Hyunsuk strides forward, trying to look as confident as possible, and goes in first. The rest of your group follows.

As you walk through the door, you make eye contact with Junkyu. He smiles kindly.

On the other side of the wall, the sun seems to shine brighter. Maybe it was just you, but the colours looked more vibrant, and you could hear distant chatter and laughter.

A man approaches you, far older than Junkyu. “Weapons before entering.”

You look at him incredulously. “You’re taking our weapons?” You exclaim.

”Those are the rules.”

Junkyu is beside the man now. “In order to keep the citizens of our community safe, all weapons are prohibited. We’ve had too many incidents where fights break out between armed men, and you know how they always end. Nothing personal.”

“Hyunsuk?” Jihoon says. You will only follow those rules if Hyunsuk says to.

After a moment of thought, he sighs. He begins unstrapping his holster. “Their community, their rules.”

Mildly disappointed, you take off your weapons. All you had on you was your pistol and a combat knife. You handed that over. After they passed a metal detector over you, you were deemed “clean” and allowed to pass through the final gate. You waited for the others.

You felt naked and vulnerable without your weapons. You were now faced with the fear that if anything were to go wrong, you didn’t have anything on you to defend yourself. Except maybe your belt, and that was a big maybe.

And, of course, your group. You, Yoonbin, Hyunsuk, Jihoon and Doyoung. You could protect each other. It was times like this, you realized, that having strong bonds with the people around mattered the most. This eased your mind.

You watched in amusement as Yoonbin proceeded to basically empty his pockets of weapons. The semiautomatic strapped to his back came off first, then the machete on his chest. He pulled his holster off, containing his pistol, then fished his combat knife out of his boot. Finally, then came the derringer. He placed it all on the table, and stood beside you.

You hear the metal detector go off.

Jihoon smiles nervously at the young girl with the detector, who gives him an exasperated look.

“All of your weapons, please and thank you.”

“Would you believe me if I told you they put metal in my hip when I was a baby?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” She says. When Jihoon does make a move to remove whatever it is that set off the device, she stares him down. Despite being a head smaller than him, her eyes could pierce.

“Fine, it’s my belt!!” Jihoon exclaims. He lifts up his jacket to reveal a thick chain wrapped in his belt loop. “It’s literally just a belt.”

“Take it off!”

“If you want me to undress for you, you could just ask.” Jihoon flirts back.

She is clearly unimpressed. With one hard stamp of her metal-toed boots, Jihoon yelps and clutches his foot. Finally, he unwraps the chain. Turns out, the chain was very long, maybe three feet in length, and very much a weapon. He drops it in her hand.

He sheepishly shrugs at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay! I’ll give you the grand tour.” Junkyu suddenly appears at your side, gesturing outwards.

You swallow the hard lump in your throat and follow him. There was no turning back now.

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greensleevesredlipstick · 6 years ago

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my first howard/cleves fic in awhile because i lost my one and only brain cell after finals ended and wasn't able to find it. in this one anne came out as bi, and katherine and cleves are both lesbian. hopefully i start writing again lol but well see cause im lazy~~ hope u guys enjoy!!

kat yawned. she lazily shuffled out of bed, thinking about what to do on her day off. she rolled her eyes as she passed boleyn pounding on the bathroom door on her way downstairs. anne, evidently giving up on taking a shower with hot water, followed her to the kitchen. “watcha up to, kitty?” she asked. “got any fun plans for today?” kat shrugged. “i was actually gonna ask the group, i cant think of anything fun. what did you do last week?”. boleyn grinned mischievously. “well if you’re really looking for some fun...i did happen to find this gay bar that was honestly the most fun i’ve had since i’ve been back. it even beats out the ball i held when aragon finally moved out of the castle. cleves and i went and i don’t even remember all of it, but i know it was a good time” she winked. Kat said shyly “well... i would like to meet someone...” she played with her pink hair. she’d never gone to a bar alone, but she would definitely feel safer knowing that the men there wouldn’t be interested in her. anne, sending the younger girl’s hesitation said “what if cleves and i met you there after the show?”. kat replied “no i know how tiring they are, i wouldn’t want you to have to come out because of me”. “c’mon” laughed Anne “you know that cleves and I are always down for a night out”. Grabbing her cousin’s hand, Kat said “okay, ill give it a shot!”. the pair skipped down the stairs and devoured the pancakes that Jane had prepared. the six of them chattered about the upcoming singalong. Jane was a little nervous about singing her heart-wrenching song alongside 400 people, but the queens reassured her that all would go well.

After the arduous process of cleaning up, they retired to their rooms to get ready for the upcoming show. Cleves popped her head into Katherine’s room. “so...i hear you're going to Flame tonight. should be a good time” she said awkwardly. Kat replied “yea! i hope i actually, you know, see a cute girl tonight” she swallowed. “its been awhile”. Cleves didn’t know what to say. had Kat not noticed her flirting for the past several weeks? she didn’t want kat to go out tonight, but she couldn’t exactly stop her. “well, don’t have too much fun before anne and i get there” cleves said, shutting the door before kat could see the disappointment etched on her face. as they bustled about doing makeup and hair, no one seemed to notice that anna was a little extra quiet that day.

once the other girls had left, Kat nervously started getting ready for the club. She chose her favorite pink skater skirt, one she knew made her look good but wasn’t so short that she would attract unwanted attention. combining it with a black top (stolen from anne’s closet), she pacing in front of her mirror. She thought about a new hairstyle, but decided to go with her classic high ponytail. she went downstairs and was about to call a cab when she got an alarming text on her phone. it was in their group chat with the six queens, three alternates, and their stage manager. their manager said “VICKI-anne just threw up offstage. GET DOWN HERE NOW!!!”. as if mirroring her cousin’s illness, kat too felt sick to her stomach. how could she go out knowing anne was ill? she quickly sent anne a text saying that she hoped she felt better, and that she would be waiting at home with some soup and tea. when she didn’t get a reply, she called the manager. the instant the phone was answered kat shouted “how is she?? can i talk to her? will she be okay??” the manager chuckled. “don’t worry katherine, it’s just a bit of food poisoning. she needs a day or two of rest, and she’ll be fine.” from the background, she heard “IS THAT MY COUSIN?? BRING THE PHONE OVER HERE”. the manager put the phone on speaker and set it on the bathroom sink. “annie, are you okay?” Kat asked, the concern obvious in her voice. “yea babe, must have bene the leftover sushi i had. please promise me you’ll still go out tonight!!!” Kat sighed. she had been looking forward to it, but she wanted to make sure anne was okay. “c’mon, for me?” the brunette urged. “i really want you to go. Cleves will still go meet you”. Kat replied “well.. if you insist...”. Anne squeaked “yipee!!” then quickly hung up the phone as another wave of nausea hit. Kat hesitantly went outside and hailed the nearest taxi, still feeling guilty about abandoning her cousin.

back at the arts theater, the queens quickly hurried offstage as soon as the mega six was over. they wanted to make sure that anne was okay-she had nearly fainted after her number and barely made it offstage before throwing up. they took the stairs two at a time-anna style-but were stopped at the entrance to their shared dressing room. the manager informed them that anne was feeling much better, but that they had sent her home with an assistant so she could get some sleep. the manager pulled cleves aside and said “im not really sure what anne was talking about, but she said that you had to go tonight or kittys gonna be all alone”. anna sighed. the evenings excitement had tired her out, but there was no way that she would leave kitty there-with dozens of single girls-by herself. she didn’t even bother to take off her stage makeup, simply adjusted, threw on a black jumpsuit, and was off. the only times the thoughts of getting to Kat were interrupted was by concern for anne but Jane reassured her that the brunette would be well taken care of.

when she got to the club she anxiously scanned the crowd to find Katherine. her worst fears were confirmed; she spotted a pink ponytail flirtatiously dancing with a group of women, looking particularly cozy with a blonde. spotting her friend, kat gidily ran up to her and tried to pull her onto the dance floor. Anna could tell she was a little more than tipsy. “C’mon” she slurred “don’t be a downer. have some drinks with my new friends and I!!”. Anna grabbed her friends hands “Katherine, you don’t normally like to drink like this. or dance with too many people”. Kat replied “well, I used to. I used to go out and have fun all the time, before, well, they happened. that's why I wanted to come out tonight, because I thought I would feel safer, and I did. Now CMON” she said insistently. Cleves followed. She wasn't just worried about Kat, she was a little jealous. Still, she allowed herself to be pulled onto the dance floor. Kat picked up where she had left off, flirting with the blonde and drawing attention from girls around the club. Anne quickly downed two drinks, but they did nothing to make her feel better-if anything worse. She muttered “bathroom” into Kat’s ear and tok off before the queen would notice something was wrong. what in the world had gotten into her?? she was always down to have some fun, why couldn’t she pull it together for Kat’s sake? she put a damp towel to her eyes, trying to conceal the puffiness that signaled the start of tears. she took a deep breath. she would go out there and tell her she had come down with whatever Anne had, and take off. Kat was doing more than fine on her own. Just then, the younger girl burst into the bathroom. “Anna?” she shouted, a little too loud for the small bathroom they were in. Catching sight of her fried, she stumbled over to the sink and wrapped anna in a hug. Cleves tried to disentangle herself, saying “go back out there babe, I’m just not feeling-” “anna I can tell somethings wrong”. Even in her drunken state, she was paying attention. “please tell me I just want to help” she said sloppily. The tears began to flow. Anna cursed; she didn’t want to ruin Kat’s night and crying in front of her crush was not exactly considered a “cool move”. she finally decided to go for it. nothing could be more embarrassing than this, so she figured she had little to lose. Anna stuttered “well i just-I don’t like seeing you dancing with those other girls.” she paused. Kat was confused. “I thought you wanted me to get back out there” she said. Anne laughed again then shakily replied “well I wanted you to be happy, always. I just hoped that maybe...it could be with me.” a wave of understanding hit Katherine, even in her impaired state. she paused for a beat, and cleves feared the worst. she imagined herself moving out of their flat because of the awkwardness, having to explain to the other queens that she had been rejected by her best friend. she was interrupted by Kat’s lips pressing against her own. her mind went blank. Katherine pulled back, but Anna leaned in again. she wanted this moment to last as long as possible. Katherine giggled into their kiss. she said shyly “you seemed so much older and cooler. I thought you saw my like an annoying little sister”. Cleves buried her face in katherine’s shoulder, overcome with emotion. the girl of her dreams had just kissed her. she tightly squeezed the smaller girl. “I’ve always seen you for just what you are. Adorable, funny, sweet, and kind. always the pretties girl in the room, too”. They kissed again, they dirty bathroom melting around them. Anna said “lets go love” Kat blushed “lets get you home”. they walked out, arms wrapped around each other, in a state of shock at how the night had turned out. they felt safe in each others arms.

#I've wanted to write this for like 2 weeks but been INCAPABLE #im just so happy that i finally finished #even tho its trash #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six imagine #anna of cleves #katherine howard #anne boleyn #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #jane seymour

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