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billloveshushu · 5 months ago

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Chapter 01 - 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭

✦━ Platonic Batfamily x BabyOC.

━ ✦ Next Chapter

✧Synopsis━ a baby was rescued by Batman on one of his missions, feeling responsible, Bruce decided to adopt her. But the question is that the baby knew she was in the comic book world, not knowing how to react or why, will she survive in this traumatized family?

✦ ("") thoughts (━) dialogue ✦

English is not my original language, the translation was done by Google Translate. So sorry for any spelling mistakes.

In a luxurious mansion, there was a room that was different from the other rooms, which were clean and organized but all lonely and without a hint of life, showing that someone had lived there for a long time, but in this room the floor was padded by a soft carpet. and there were toys and stuffed bears scattered everywhere, the drawers on the walls were full of diapers, powder and baby wipes, and in the corner of the room there was a baby bed.

Inside it was a small baby with a very peculiar appearance, it had black skin the color of chocolate, with vibrant red hair that highlighted its light brown eyes, the baby looked around confused and in disbelief at what was happening.

" How did I end up here? "

Just two days ago she was in the hospital, remembering few things, until a nurse came and took her to an elegant man in a suit who was accompanied by an old man. When she heard the nurse say the man's name, something clicked in her head: " Bruce Wayne!? "

Suddenly, a whole bar of comic books appeared in her mind, comic books that she loved reading, but her favorite stories were about a hero called Batman, with his family that was called the Batfamily. It was then that she realized that she was in the world of comics and that the man talking to the nurse was the fearsome Batman.

She spent the entire trip to Wayne Manor in a daze and hadn't even noticed Bruce's certain ignorance, anyway on the first day she just stared at Alfred and Bruce wondering if it was really real. Only the next day when she was woken up by Alfred did she start to wonder why she was in the mansion, was she adopted? But knowing Bruce he would never adopt a baby with the life he leads as Batman.

So there is only one option left, something tragic happened that she doesn't remember, and maybe that's why she was admitted to the hospital. Well, her theory was right, and she found out thanks to the discussion that was happening on the nursery side. The baby looked at the butler who, despite being quite old, was standing firm and with good posture, arguing with Bruce who had bandages on his face, he was wearing a white shirt that showed that his face wasn't the only injured part.

Alfred was trying to get Bruce to stay and recover from his wounds, but Bruce didn't care about his injuries and said he would go back to the streets tonight and capture those miserable groups. That's when she discovered his story.

Apparently, she was rescued by Batman in one of his most complicated missions, where he was investigating, together with Barbara Gordon (Oracle), the largest human trafficking network in Gotham City. During the mission they even had help from several villains who also didn't like this situation, they found the drug dealers' hideout and planned to end it all that night but it didn't go as planned, the drug dealers had an ace up their sleeve.

They planted bombs in one of their trafficking sites, which was disguised as an orphanage, the problem was that there were children living there, they did this on purpose in case Batman found them, they knew he would drop everything to save them.

In the end they managed to escape and Batman didn't arrive in time, he could only see the big explosion happening in front of him, he managed to save a few children who still had several burns and many were killed by the explosion, the Wayne Industry Corporation financed all the support financial support for the victims including the funerals, and the victims' funeral took place on a cloudy and rainy day, where all of Gotham mourned for the innocent lives.

She could see the anger on his face, perhaps disappointment with himself too, Alfred was the same way, outraged at the poor children's lives that were used but he remained calm knowing that he had to treat his master/son's injuries.

━ Mr. Bruce, I understand your anger but you cannot leave right after your recovery.

━But Alfred! I can't stay here knowing that they will be out there on the loose!

Alfred frowns but stops, knowing he won't be able to convince the bat man any further. Suddenly a noise arose, the two men looked at the baby who was embarrassed and placed her hands on her belly, relieving the tension in the room. Alfred went to make the milk and left the room, Bruce put his hand on his forehead irritably and sat down on a sofa in the room.

She looked at the melancholy man "even though it's the first time I've seen him in person, doesn't he look older?"

His face had bandaged wounds, droopy eyes that screamed for sleep, and an unfinished drool, he was clearly dejected by recent events, showing that carrying the mantle of Batman was not easy.

This is not surprising, for the sake of Batman he sacrificed many things including his physical and mental health, but the thing he hated most was hurting or worrying Alfred, he knew that the butler wanted him to rest for his own good, and yet he acted like a child. While he was mourning, Bruce felt the baby looking at him, but he didn't dare look back, since that day he avoided looking at her face, not even remembering what it was like.

Bruce remembers that bloody night , it was too late to ask for help from the others who were still far from Gotham, He could only watch the explosion happen and rescue as many people as possible until a child stopped him asking for help, saying that there was a room deeper in the orphanage and a baby was trapped there.

Bruce had never felt so much panic and adrenaline rushing through his body, he didn't know how he got past the burning fire until he entered the room that was half hidden and found a fallen nursery and saw the small body of a baby covered in blood .

Even for Batman this vision is too strong, he remembered how he carried the small, almost lifeless body, no, he was sure she was dead until the nurse took her and said there was a sign of life.

He doesn't know if this was an illusion at the time, even the doctors said it was a miracle for a baby just a few months old to survive in this state.

Given his critical condition, the baby took a month to recover, but he had several sequelae that needed to be treated over time. Bruce, seeing this situation, decided to adopt the baby to be responsible for him and finance all his treatments and medical expenses.

The last time he saw the baby up close was when Alfred held the baby in his arms taking her to the mansion, after that, Bruce avoided her and left her in Alfred's care, he never held her, and didn't even look at her face and avoided entering her room until now, it was as if he was...

As if he was afraid .

Alfred arrived with the bottle and picked up the baby gently and adjusted his posture to be more comfortable, and Bruce saw this from afar until the baby finished drinking the milk and the butler cleaned his little mouth, putting him back in the nursery because he realized he was sleepy.

In her last moments struggling with her eyelids nearly closing, she saw Bruce leaving the room silently and wondered " Why didn't he look at me? " before falling into the dream world.

It had been a week since the baby had last seen Bruce, she wondered, should she care?

Since arriving at this mansion, Bruce had avoided her like the plague, she wasn't stupid enough to not realize that, at first she was angry but soon the anger disappeared, she had no reason for it and she didn't even know him well.

She knew Batman from the comics but not Bruce Wayne, she always saw Batman being portrayed as the supreme hero, the vigilante who took justice into his own hands, not as a family man who has many children, the comics didn't go into much depth from the family side. And when it was mentioned it was clear that Bruce failed many times as a father.

She even wondered if it was another child destined to be a Robin, or a child he just pitied, it didn't matter, at least she had Alfred who during that week became much more attached to Baby.

Alfred doesn't know how this little smiling ball won his heart so quickly, he always found himself worried about her, he noticed that he finished his work routine faster or stopped doing some things to just take care of the little one, he had never done that before.

At first, Alfred was worried, it had been so long since he had taken care of such a small baby that he even wondered about hiring a more specialized person.

But surprisingly it wasn't like that, she was a very calm and quiet baby and even smiling, he wondered if that was a problem until he saw her toothless smile in his arms as she hugged a stuffed cat.

To imagine that he was won over by just a crooked smile, perhaps his paternal instinct had returned.

After measuring the ideal temperature of the milk, Alfred saw the little baby in the living room sleeping on the sofa, she was resting her little cheeks which were crushed on the teddy bear bigger than her and several other stuffed animals around.

Alfred secretly took a picture of this cute scene and planned to make a photo album, the baby being woken up gently stretched her little arms towards the butler asking to be picked up, Alfred picked her up and watched her trying to open her little eyes while yawning.

He even rubbed her eyes, making her more awake.

As he looked at the baby who was drinking the milk and trying to grab the bottle with her fat little hands, he thought it would be nice if Bruce had the same thoughts, it wasn't just the baby who noticed the Billionaire's strange behavior, he realized at first glance that Bruce was avoiding her, he asked why and Bruce replied ━ When I look at her, I remember her body full of blood ...

Alfred was relieved that his actions were not malicious, but he was extremely sad when he noticed Bruce's fear, he didn't know if it could be called fear but it was similar to what happened with Jason, the fear of facing his greatest failure.

Even though the baby is fine now, she has suffered several after-effects. Alfred is always heartbroken when he sees the small, newly healed wounds and hopes that they will disappear as she grows, making that traumatic attack just a delusion.

Now he just wants Bruce to get over this and the baby to be okay.

After that, Alfred helped the baby burp and planned to take her to her room since this room was not very suitable for babies, until he felt a tug on his sleeve and saw the baby pointing to a painting in the room ━ Oh little one, these are your older brothers ━ Alfred said as he introduced each one.

Dick or Richard was smiling in the background and next to him was Jason who turned his head back hiding his face, on the other side was Tim and Damian, both of them were not smiling but Damian had a sullen face and arms crossed, in the armchair was sitting Duke who was smiling and Cassandra sitting on the arm of the armchair, she was also not smiling.

The baby looked around and tilted her head in confusion at Alfred who understood the message ━ No little ladyship, they are not here at the moment but they will be in the future.

The baby can only look at the picture again and wonder , " Will they like me? "

Night soon came, Alfred prepared the baby for bed by putting on new pajamas that imitated the figure of a baby sheep, it even had a tail, Alfred often bought new cute animal-themed clothes for the baby and took pictures of each one of them, I think he gained a new hobby.

After putting the talcum powder on the baby's neck, he was about to put her to sleep but suddenly stopped and looked at the bedroom door, the baby soon realized, Batman was back.

Alfred apologized and put her in the nursery, telling her to wait a little and left the room. She looked at the ceiling for a while and could hear some noises of Alfred helping Bruce and realized that the situation must be serious.

She even thought about going there, but she knew she couldn't, her body was still developing its locomotive abilities, and there was still the fact that she was recovering, so she thought it would just be a burden.

When her eyelids were almost closing, Alfred appeared again, but this time he carried her and took her to another room where Bruce could be seen lying on a bed covered in bandages and small wounds, the baby was surprised by the sight as Alfred took her closer.

You could see that Bruce was trying to sleep until he felt Alfred's presence and opened his eyes to see him until he noticed the small ball of fur in the butler's hands ━ huh?

Alfred, noticing the man's doubtful face, said━ Mr. Bruce, I'm afraid I won't be able to take care of the little lady while I prepare dinner, so please.

Alfred placed the little sheep on the bed along with Bruce who just watched the butler leave the room satisfied, leaving the two individuals looking confused at the door, Bruce knew that this was just an excuse from Alfred to get to know the child better but he couldn't help but swear a little.

Then he noticed the little girl crawling to his side and making small sounds, he felt her gaze on his face, Bruce knew that this was cowardly, he thought that after solving the case he would be fine, and would be able to face the child without any guilt, but this proved the opposite, he knows that this is ridiculous but every time he thinks about her he remembers the many times he failed as a father, remembering how negligent he was with his children.

Bruce wanted to move on and leave his mistakes in the past, but he couldn't, he couldn't help but think that because of him most of his children are not in the mansion.

He began to press his hand on his abdomen where the bandaged wound was, which opened with the pressure, starting to release a blood stain. The baby quickly placed her hand on him, trying to push him away, which ended up drawing his attention.

Bruce finally saw the baby and not that nightmare, he saw a small baby who had just recovered, with chubby red cheeks and her small, soft hand contrasting with his, which was large and full of scars, the baby's little face looked at him worriedly.

The baby saw Bruce's shocked look fill with guilt and her hands began to tremble, she didn't understand why this was happening, but she decided to be benevolent, she climbed onto his chest and hugged his neck rubbing her cheek against his as she tried to find a better position to sleep on his shoulder.

Still perplexed, Bruce raised his hands and held her, realizing how fragile she was, for the first time a newborn baby was in his care, a being so defenseless that it couldn't even run away from its predators, that should be protected and cared for, a small child that he still ignored and avoided out of sheer ridiculous fear.

━ I'm sorry... ━ Bruce said with his cold and authoritative voice, the baby looked surprised and saw the melancholic eyes.

She just hugged him tighter, while he held her and patted her head awkwardly.

Bruce from then on promised that he would protect her with all his heart and soul, that he would not make mistakes this time, promising to give her a long and happy life.

After a while Alfred arrived in the room just seeing Bruce sleeping holding the baby also asleep on his chest, he just smiled seeing the scene and was relieved to know that Bruce wouldn't need the medicine to sleep tonight, he discreetly left the room with a plate of food in his hands along with the medicine and closed the door without making any noise.

Continued...

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coal15 · 8 months ago

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Because Happy Fandom

In the interest of spreading positive vibes, I'm working on the 2nd chapter of I Never Do This so I decided to post a sample. It's Bucktommy. Explicit but also has the gushy romantic feels scattered amidst the smut. The following sample is smut-free, but if you follow the link to Ch.1 you'll find yourself tits deep in obscene material. You're welcome.

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Tommy grinned when Evan’s lips pressed against the nape of his neck. “Good morning.”

“I woke up alone,” Buck pouted. “How dare you.”

“Will a Denver omelet earn me forgiveness?” Tommy asked, swiveling sideways to reveal a cutting board and a half chopped bell pepper.

“I’m listening.”

“Light on ham, heavy on veggies, average amount of cheese. With a side of beautiful sliced tomatoes I just picked off the vine. They turned out really great this year.” Tommy smiled and mmm’d into long, gentle a good morning kiss.

“I’m gonna get spoiled dating you, aren’t I?” Buck sighed, sounding so love-drunk he may as well have had little cartoon hearts floating around his head.

“Oh, absolutely. I try to spoil all my guests, especially the cute ones.”

Buck gave him a quick nuzzle and stepped aside so he could get back cutting peppers. “Wanna point me to the cheese grater?” The chance to help prepping a meal in Tommy’s kitchen made him feel all giddy. ‘Kid-with-an-extra-helping-of-dessert’ giddy.

Tommy tapped his bare foot against the cabinet door behind him. “Grater's in there. And you might have to dig around a little for the cheese, I’m terrible at keeping my refrigerator organized.”

Normally the sight of veggies, condiments, leftovers and so-forth scattered around a fridge all willy-nilly would awaken Clipboard Buck with a vengeance, but this time he just shrugged and made a mental note to tackle it later. “Are these green beans from your garden?” he asked, pushing aside an overfilled bag to reveal a block of sharp cheddar. The block sat between a takeout container and a bottle of ketchup, but Buck kept his attention riveted to Denver omelets and Tommy.

“No, they’re from my neighbor Cathy down the road.”

On the counter next to the knife block were four cutting boards of descending size held upright by a cat figurine wearing a chef’s hat and apron holding a whisk. It was impossible not to notice how much the kitschy object clashed with the rest of Tommy’s decor, so Buck figured it must have sentimental value. The thought gave him a soft, warm feeling. “It took me a minute to escape your hall by the way.” He teased after selecting a cutting board and getting to work.

“Uuuugh, sorry.” Tommy cringed. “I should have thought to label the doors with post-its before you woke up, I literally do that every time I host an event. It’s the only thing I really don’t like about this house. But I’ve got major renovations planned and that nightmare is getting fixed as soon as I’ve got enough money saved up.”

"Do you wanna hire a crew or go diy?” Buck asked whilst imagining Tommy wearing a toolbelt . . . maybe taking a big sledgehammer to a wall, all covered in sweat and drywall dust and wearing beat up old work clothes with streaks and splatters of dry paint all over them from past projects. And, and maybe the jeans hang really low. Like barely perched on his hips so just the slightest nudge might–

“Woohoo!” Tommy whistled, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Oh!” Buck flinched and cleared his throat. “Hi, yeah. I’m, I’m back–did you say diy?”

"I did." Tommy chirped.

"Neat. I'm, uh, happy to help out if you want."

"I will keep that in mind."

The couple returned to their self assigned tasks, chopping, grating, and frequently sneaking glances at eachother.

Buck tried to maintain focus on grating cheese, but found himself increasingly morning-horny, which was slowing down progress more and more. The sense of arousal surprised him. He had never really been a morning sex kind of a guy–then again, he’d also never been a ‘fucks other men and likes it’ kind of guy a until recently. He supposed this was just his season of revelations. Morning horny. Okay. What to do with that energy? Huh. “Soooo . . . we’ve officially had sex in both of our beds now.”

“God Evan, you say that like there’s a bingo card!”

“There could be bingo cards.” Buck gazed sidelong at Tommy with a sly grin that seemed to broadcast certain intentions.

Let’s play.

****To read the 1st Chapter go HERE

#bucktommy #buck x tommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #we're having such a happy day #don't let anyone piss on your parade

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asnowdriftsomewhere · 6 months ago

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Unsavory

Eris Vanserra x Oc

Read on Ao3

Summary: Eris stumbles upon an irreverent human on the beach of the Summer Court, and Gods does she stir something in him.

Warnings: no smut but... lots of... something

Wc: 2097

A/N: wrote this as practice for writing banter. Tell me how i did?

She was dancing with the waves when Eris first saw her. This fragile human woman had been thrown into the deadly fae world and instead of cowering among her neighbors in the camp organized for them she was splashing through the surf like a child seeing the ocean for the first time. It amused something in him, watching her twirl and sway along the water's edge.

Her surely scandalously short white and pale green dress was shifting and rising with the sea breeze that drifted through her long chestnut colored hair. The ocean spray scattered across her sun kissed skin like so many diamonds sparkling the setting sun. Eris couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something intriguing about this irreverent human with no care or fear for her own safety. Something that had him crossing his arms behind his back and approaching her slowly so as to not startle the poor creature. He could still easily kill her, of course, but for some reason, he didn't want her to know that.

Her movements slowed and the gleeful abandon that she had been filled with before shifted into cautious amusement as he drew near. Her pale green eyes took him in like a fawn watching a mountain cat approach but with none of the fear. And Eris couldn't tell if it was unbridled insolence or bravery that locked her spine and had her cocking a hip as he stalked closer but he felt the corner of his lips tick up in response anyway.

“Is there something I can help you with, Faeling?” She asked once he was within a human range of hearing. Her voice was soft as smoke but carried a playful edge that no one had dared take with him in some time.

“I merely wanted to admire your dancing,” he spoke simply, his head tipping to the side as his eyes drifted down her lean form. “It's been a long time since I've seen someone so unrefined move with such grace. I'm impressed.”

She snorted once, “Are you?”

“Quite.” He let his mouth curve into a smirk as he came to a stop, only a few short feet between them. “Do you have a name, human?”

“Is this one of your Fae tricks?” She raised her eyebrow like a challenge and Eris's grin only grew. “You ask for my name and if I give it then suddenly my soul is bound to yours? If it is… you'll have to try a little harder than that, Red. I'm not completely without my wits.”

“Perhaps not,” he shrugged, his tongue slipping across his bottom lip, “but you are without sense. What need have I for something as delicate and fleeting as your kind tends to be?”

She raised her palms to the sky. “That's between you and your Fae Gods, but I'm sure your twisted imagination could come up with something unsavory.”

“Unsavory?” It was his turn to quirk an eyebrow at her, his long legs beginning a slow pace as he circled her. “Now whatever gave you that idea?”

She shot him a pointed look over her shoulder, her arms crossing over the sage embroidery of her bodice as she shifted her weight to her other hip. “Oh I don't know, maybe it's the long and storied history between our two people? You know, the one where you enslaved us and made us worship you for millennia?”

“Hmm,” his lips ticked down into a thoughtful frown as he paused in the sand behind her. “Is that all?”

“Is that all?” She repeated back to him, her head whipping around so her gaze locked with his. “What else needs to be said?”

“I've yet to hear why you think I would engage in such activities.” She rolled her eyes at him, an expression that set fire to his blood made his cock stir in answer. He wanted to wipe that impudent smirk off her face. To put her on her knees and show her what it meant to worship him - to be enslaved to him. He wanted to impress upon her the danger she was truly in, how quickly he could wrap his fingers around her slender throat and snap her fragile neck. How easily he could set fire to the sea dampened dress that clung to her arms and thighs in places like a second skin. A wicked chuckle worked its way through him as he resumed his pacing. Perhaps the human had a point after all.

“I think the look on your face tells me everything I need to know about what activities you would like to engage in.” She watched him as he continued to circle her. Pale green eyes like the first breath of spring marked his every move with rapt fascination that Eris knew was mirrored in his own gaze.

The sea breeze stirred her chestnut locks and her human scent drifted towards him like a finger coaxing him closer. She smelled, like all humans, of death and decay; their mortality written into every fiber of their being, but there was something else that his Fae senses picked up. It was sweet and floral but there was a darker note to it that had the fire in him roaring. This human was not only unafraid of him, but was aroused by him. By their talk of all the unsavory things he could do to her. He wondered if she often found threats to her wellbeing enticing or was it him that she wanted so intensely?

He stopped in front of her, raising one hand slowly to brush away the bead of moisture that had collected along her bottom lip with his thumb. She arched into the touch, her throat bobbing as she blinked once and her breath seemed to catch in her lungs. Eris watched her eyelashes flutter, drops of the sea clinging to the fine hairs like gems glittering in the light and his jaw clenched as he tipped his head to the side.

“You still haven't told me your name, Human.”

The lush lip under his thumb pulled into what he could only describe as a wicked grin. “What makes you think I'll tell you?”

A warning growl slipped up his throat as his hand slipped lower and his fingers stretched to curl around her neck. “What makes you think it's a request?”

“Oph,” she quirked her eyebrow again even as she subtly pressed herself into his hand. “Careful, Red. I thought you were trying to prove you weren't a threat to me.”

“Oh, I never said that.” He smirked, his thumb swiping sinfully along the soft skin of her throat. “You are in far more danger than you seem to realize.”

A noise like a purr vibrated through her and his cock strained against his breeches at the sound. “I know exactly how dangerous you are, Faeling. I'm just choosing to not be afraid.”

“How brazen.” His tongue swiped across his lip again as he stepped closer to her body so only inches separated them now. “Tell me, where does this unorthodox bravery come from?”

“Isn't it obvious?” she raised a brow, her voice less than a whisper now. One slender hand lifted to gently grasp his wrist, delicate fingers sliding against the skin like silk to stoke the fire in his blood as she smiled again. “It comes from surrender.”

Eris’s grip on her throat tightened, just enough that his fingers pressed into the soft muscles and her breath hitched slightly. “Does it now?”

She hummed in response, her body pressing flush against his as her eyes drifted down to his mouth, “It does…”

“Say it,” he ordered as his head leaned down to her, their lips only a breath apart.

“I surren-”

“Eris!” A voice from up the beach called and the two froze against each other. “I see you found our missing human, good work.”

Eris's jaw ticked as he slowly stood to his full height and turned his head to see his youngest brother approaching him with a delighted grin stretched across his face. Lucien strolled towards the pair, tanned arm crossed over the Illyrian leathers he'd been wearing for days since the war ended, looking for all the world like a cat with a canary and Eris felt his rage flicker in answer.

“You've been looking for me?” The human asked, clearing her voice of the headiness that had colored its smoky tones only moments ago.

“We have, Lady.” Lucien gave her a courtier's smile as he stopped a few feet from them. “We're preparing to return the last of the humans to your lands now that it's safe again.”

“I see... I'll go now.” She nodded once before gently pulling her body away from Eris, who still did not move a muscle as she walked back the way Lucien had come. Just before she disappeared around a sand dune, she tossed one last fleeting look over her shoulder. Her green eyes met Eris's amber ones as a smile like a promise flashed across her plush pink lips.

And then she was gone and he was left alone with his brother.

“Well that was certainly interesting.” Lucien arched an eyebrow at him as Eris flexed his still raised hand before dropping it to his side. “Care to explain-”

“Explain what exactly?” He asked, turning to face the younger male head on. “Nothing happened.”

Lucien snorted. “Oh something was happening. I know what I saw-”

“You saw me retrieving the girl as Rhysand asked.” He leveled a warning glare at his brother. “Nothing more”

“If that's how you want to play it, then fine, Eris.” Lucien shrugged idly as he turned to start back up the beach where the others were waiting for them. “I just never thought that a human would be your type-”

“Enough,” he barked, stalking after the emissary, his clenched fists stuffed roughly into the pockets of his breeches.

“Okay, okay,” he grinned slyly over his shoulder as he raised his hands to the sky in surrender. They walked in silence for a time, Lucien filled with wicked delight, and Eris a storm of fury behind him.

It didn't make any sense. He'd never had that strong of a reaction to a female before, and certainly not to a human woman like her. His lovers had all historically been noble daughters of various Courts throughout Prythian. Occasionally, a pretty commoner would catch his eye, and he would enjoy her body for a few months or years until he grew bored and sought out another. But never had a human enticed him, and certainly not as she had. So what madness had compelled him to touch her? To nearly taste her?

They crested another hill, the Human camp before them was half gone now that they were winnowing everyone back to where they belonged. Only a handful of families remained, and his gaze immediately found a brunette woman with eyes like the first buds of spring. She was laughing with a man who looked to be her father, a hand raking through her long, damp hair to push it away from her heart-shaped face. He noted the red fingerprints that marked her pretty neck. He must have squeezed her harder than he thought.

A flood of male satisfaction coursed through him at the sight and he watched as she ran a delicate finger across the skin. Her eyes took on a vacant expression as her lips ticked up at the corners and a possessive growl nearly slipped out of him at the sight. The human liked having his mark on her, and if Eris was being completely honest, he liked it too. More than should. More than was wise.

Her kind were delicate and fleeting and frail, and yet his blood sang for her in a way that would not be denied. And, perhaps, he didn't have to. The Wall was down after all. There was nothing keeping him from seeking out the human, if he wished to find her again…

Pale green eyes caught his for just a moment before Rhysand winnowed them away, and Eris watched her shift her weight to the other hip. Her eyebrow quirked and her lips curved into a smirk that was a promise and a challenge, and he knew that he had not seen the last of this woman. He would find her again, if only to wipe the insolence from her pretty little face. And when he did…

Well, he was sure he could come up with something unsavory to do…

#fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #lucien vanserra #practice banter #sjm books #sjmaas #sjm #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #ao3

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pyrrhicraven · 1 year ago

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Figured I'd share a little thing 😉

J'onn watched Batman as he sipped coffee, filling out paperwork from the latest mission with the Justice League. The silence other than Batman moving minutely or sipping his coffee was calming. But, that was something he wasn't used to anymore...Sharing companionable silence. The last person he'd done that with that had felt similar to this was M'yri'ah, which sent a shock through him. Did he really feel that close to Bruce? They had spent more time together, but it was for a mission...Yet he could not deny he'd learned about Bruce and the rest of his family. How they took their coffee for instance if they drank coffee even. What they did for fun, he'd been included and it had been amazing to feel so apart of a family again. Of course, they had completed the mission and arrests had been made. But going back to the way things had been would be harder than he'd expected. "You're thinking too hard over there J'onn." He blinked and Batman had a ghost of a smile on his face, something he'd learned to read from the other man. As much as his family likes to say he never smiled they all knew he did. "Too? I suppose." He sat at the table a few seats away from Batman as the other man had files scattered around him at his spot and J'onn didn't want to disrupt the organized chaos that was Batman's workspace. "You're welcome in my home any time J'onn." He blinked and wondered how Batman had even realized that was what he'd been thinking of. "Oh?" Batman nodded, fingers tapping away at the keyboard but still clearly invested in conversing with him. "The family was thankful for your presence." But it sounded like he-Batman was thankful...Because he distracted the younger ones or because Batman was able to be fully himself in front of someone who wasn't his family? "If anyone should be thankful it should be me, it has...Been a long time since I allowed myself to join in human activities." Or rather people he would spend time with, to do simple human activities like watching movies or hiking. Mind the Hiking had been more work than not, but Dick and Tim said it was fun even though they hadn't found any clues for the mission. Batman's frown told him that the man wasn't happy with that answer, but it had been truthful which J'onn knew was something Batman appreciated. "Everyone would be glad if you showed up then from time to time, I know Nightwing and Red Robin were planning more things to do with you in mind." That was rather thoughtful of the duo, and it pleased him to know that others thought of him. But something nagged at him, why would Batman mention any of this? He was usually much more reserved and would have waited for the boys to invite him rather than tell him, that they had thought about him while making plans. "I take it you?" Batman sighed and nodded. "It...Normally when someone comes to my home it's...An invasion, but I didn't feel that way with you there."

#Keep in mind I haven't seen much #justice league #martianbat #dc #fanfiction #creative writing #my writing #honestly what the fuck #my muses are a pain for sticking me with another ship lol #martian manhunter #batman #writblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr #writers

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holdupjack · 1 year ago

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The Assistant

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Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Minister Hermione

WARNING: None

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Third Person P.O.V:

First Month As Minister

Hermione let her leg shake as piles of paper and documents were scattered around her desk, some had fallen off onto the ground at some point.

She had spent her whole life trying to make a name for herself and she had finally done it. Yet, that didn't mean things got easier.

It got more difficult. Much. Much. More difficult.

She had no one to lean on anymore. Ron had moved out last year after their divorce was finalized, and they never had children so...

She was alone now.

Harry had convinced her to at least splurge on hiring an assistant at work. Hermione could be less stressed and maybe make a new friend.

After a week of going through resumes, she found the perfect person for the job. A woman named Y/n Y/l/n, she's had outstanding recommendations from her former employers.

They had a phone call interview, and Hermione enjoyed talking to her and learning about Y/n's goals and strengths in the workplace. The older woman was quickly swayed into hiring her.

Knock! Knock!

Hermione's eyes flicked up to find a young woman at her office door, she had a nice shirt and dress pants on. Very much on the masculine side of fashion, but the Minister thought she pulled it off quite nicely.

"Yes? May I help you?" Hermione asks as she raises an eyebrow. She should have been panicked to find a random person in her office, but she knew her security wouldn't have let her in if she didn't have clearance.

"Good Morning Minister! My name is Y/n Y/l/n, your new assistant" she explains and Hermione quickly stood up to greet her as she walked in.

They shook hands as they beamed at one another, happy to finally meet.

"Oh, Y/n! I completely forgot that today was your first day, please forgive me" Hermione chuckled nervously as their hands dropped, but the new assistant still grinned.

"It's quite alright, I'm ready to work" she replies as Hermione seems scrambled to think of something for her to do. Y/n immediately took notice.

"May I help you organize?" Y/n asked as she stepped towards the side of the desk, watching as the brunette was frazzled slightly from her panic.

"If you can figure out a system, I will be forever grateful," Hermione says with a small sigh as Y/n looks over the piles of work that are scattered all around the room. She made sure not to step on anything.

"Let's see..."

——————

Y/n spent the day sitting on the ground next to her desk as she figured out the best system for the new Minister.

Hermione was mostly out of the office for the day, but when she returned from her meeting with the head of the Law Department. She was surprised to find her office clean and organized, with even a bag of food from the local Chinese restaurant.

Her eyes looked around to find her new employee and soon found her eating at her desk in the hall across from her office door.

How hadn't she seen her when she walked in from the elevator? She must really be in her mind today.

"Did you grab food for yourself as well?" Hermione asks. The last thing she'd want was for her assistant to not take advantage of free food on the Ministry's dime.

"Yes Minister, how was your meeting?" Y/n replied as she ate her food, her eyes shifting to meet her boss.

"Long." Hermione states as she chuckles softly and sits on the corner of Y/n's desk, a quiet sigh leaves her lips.

"I love my job, but arguing with a man with an inflated ego really puts a damper on it" she continues as Y/n looks up at her with a small smile.

"Weren't you married to a man with an inflated ego?" Y/n asks to which Hermione blinked a few times before she responds. Then her face flushed.

Y/n almost apologized immediately for such an intrusive question, but something held her back.

Sometimes Hermione forgot that her life was back in the spotlight again after being so long in the shadows.

"I was" Hermione chuckled in return she cleared her throat from her initial shock from the question. Granted, it was inappropriate to ask, but the Minister didn't see any harm from answering truthfully.

"Then you can handle the likes of these man-children with ease" Y/n grinned as she leaned back in her desk chair, it tilted slightly.

Hermione began to laugh, covering her mouth for a moment, acting like they weren't the only people on this floor.

"You're right, if I can survive seven years with Ron, then I can survive a few hours with them," she says with a smile of her own, Y/n noted in her mind that this was the first time she had smiled genuinely today.

Y/n nodded in agreement, appreciating Hermione's ability to find strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

"It takes a strong person to handle difficult situations with grace," Y/n remarked, her admiration evident in her voice.

Hermione smiled warmly at Y/n's words, feeling a sense of camaraderie with her newfound acquaintance.

"Thank you," she replied sincerely.

"It hasn't always been easy, I've learned to navigate through the challenges." She paused for a moment, reflecting on her journey.

"I suppose it's a testament to the power of friendship and the importance of standing up for what you believe in." she finishes, as her mind goes back to Hogwarts. Y/n nodded, their eyes meeting in understanding.

"Yes, I can see how your friendships have played a significant role in shaping who you are today," she said thoughtfully.

"And it's inspiring to see how you've used your platform to advocate for change and equality," Y/n says as she gazed into Hermione's eyes. Hermione's smile widened, her eyes shining with gratitude.

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot to hear that." She took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing, her voice filled with determination.

A soft blush did make its way onto her cheeks though.

Hermione took a deep breath as she went back to her desk, feeling a surge of confidence wash over her. It was time to dive headfirst into her role as Minister, to embrace the new responsibilities that lay before her.

The challenges she faced were immense, but she was determined to make a difference and lead with integrity.

As she settled back into her office chair, she glanced around the room, now neat and organized thanks to Y/n's efforts.

The piles of papers that had once overwhelmed her were now neatly stacked, ready to be tackled one by one. It was a small victory, but it gave Hermione a sense of control amidst the chaos.

With renewed focus, Hermione turned her attention to the stack of documents on her desk. Each file represented a different issue, a different decision to be made. She knew that her decisions would shape the lives of countless individuals and impact the future of the wizarding world.

She picked up the first document and began to read, absorbing the details and considering the potential consequences of each choice.

It was a delicate balance, weighing the needs of the community against the limitations and resources available. She knew that she couldn't please everyone, but she was determined to make decisions that were fair and just.

As the hours passed, Hermione found herself engrossed in the work. The weight of her responsibilities was both exhilarating and humbling.

Y/n watched from her desk across the hall, observing Hermione's dedication and passion. She admired the way Hermione approached each task with a meticulous attention to detail, never wavering in her pursuit of justice.

Y/n had seen many leaders in her career, but there was something different about Hermione. She possessed a rare combination of intelligence, empathy, and unwavering determination.

After a long day of decision-making and policy review, Hermione finally leaned back in her chair, feeling a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. She glanced at the clock on her desk and realized it was already late in the evening. The day had flown by in a blur of paperwork, meetings, and discussions.

Y/n, sensing Hermione's weariness, stood up from her desk and walked over to the small kitchen near their work space and began to make a kettle of tea. She whistled as she sat on counter and waited for the water to boil on the stove.

Hermione's eyes flicked up for a moment when she heard soft whistling, and when she didn't spot Y/n at her desk, she furrowed her eyebrows.

"Y/n?" She called out, but when she didn't get a reply back, she almost stood up to investigate, but another document caught her eye.

"For fucks sake, another high insurance cost for the Jinx Removal floor?" Hermione mumbles to herself.

Y/n soon walked towards her office. She knocked gently on the door before entering, a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands.

"I thought you could use a break, Minister, you've been working tirelessly all day." Y/n said, setting the tray down on Hermione's desk.

Hermione smiled gratefully, appreciating Y/n's thoughtfulness. She poured herself a cup of tea and took a sip, the warm liquid soothing her tired mind.

"Thank you, Y/n," Hermione said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"I couldn't have made it through today without your support...I honestly probably would have been a wreck" she chuckles fo herself as Y/n nodded, a soft smile on her face.

"It's my pleasure, Minister. I'm here to assist you in any way I can." Y/n replies as Hermione offered her a cup as well. She watched as her assistant sat on the loveseat in her office and gave a quiet sigh of relief.

As they sat there, sipping tea and enjoying a moment of respite, Hermione felt a sense of camaraderie and trust between them. Y/n had quickly become more than just an assistant; she had become a confidante and a source of support.

"I must admit," Hermione began, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Being a Minister is more challenging than I ever imagined. But I'm determined to make a difference." She sighs softly as Y/n's eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked at Hermione.

"And you will, Minister. Your dedication and passion are evident in everything you do."

Hermione's resolve strengthened, fueled by Y/n's words of encouragement. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with obstacles and difficult decisions, but she also knew that she had the support of her team and the unwavering belief in her own abilities.

As she finished her cup of tea, Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of optimism. The first month as Minister had been a whirlwind, but she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. With Y/n by her side, she knew that together they could make a real difference in the wizarding world.

And so, Hermione closed her eyes, taking a moment to savor the quiet before the storm.

——————

A couple months later...

In the months that followed, Hermione found herself drawn to Y/n in ways she couldn't quite explain. It was more than just admiration for her work ethic and intelligence. There was a connection—a spark—that seemed to grow with each passing day.

As they worked side by side, discussing policies and strategies, Hermione felt a sense of ease and comfort in Y/n's presence.

Their conversations went beyond work, delving into personal anecdotes and shared interests. Y/n's wit and charm were captivating, and Hermione found herself looking forward to their interactions.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Hermione sat in her office, reflecting on the events of the day. Her thoughts kept drifting to Y/n, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between them.

The idea both excited and frightened her—excited because she hadn't felt this way in a long time, and frightened because she didn't want to jeopardize their professional relationship.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione decided to confide in her closest friend, Harry. She knew he would provide the guidance and support she needed.

The next day, during their lunch break, Hermione found herself sitting across from Harry at a small café near the Ministry. She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up.

"Harry, I need to talk to you about something," Hermione began, her voice filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

"Of course, Hermione. What's on your mind?"

Harry asks as he raised an eyebrow, his green eyes curious. Hermione took a sip of her tea, gathering her thoughts.

"It's about Y/n, my assistant," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I think... I think I might be falling in love with her."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly composed himself, clearing his throat and leaning forward slightly.

"Well, that's quite a revelation, Hermione. Have you spoken to her about your feelings?" He asks quietly as he stared at her. Hermione shook her head, her curls bouncing slightly.

"No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first, get some perspective." She replies as Harry leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Well, Hermione, love can be complicated, especially in a professional setting. But I've seen the way you two interact, and there's no denying the chemistry between you." He states with a small smile as he thought back on the times he gone up for a quick chat, and found them in such a deep discussion that they didn't even notice him there.

A blind man could hear their longing and teasing whispers back and forth were much more than casual banter.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, a mixture of hope and fear flooding through her as she took in his words.

"Do you think it's wise to pursue this, Harry? What if it doesn't work out? I don't want to lose her as a colleague or a friend." She asks, thinking of all the HR department meetings she's been in recently.

Harry reached across the table and placed a comforting hand on Hermione's. He had his comforting smile shining brightly, like he use to when she was to much inside her head,

"Love is always a risk, Hermione. But sometimes, the greatest rewards come from taking those risks. If you truly believe there's something special between you and Y/n, then it might be worth exploring." He says as he leaned back and took a sip of his coffee, which was now a bit cold. Hermione nodded, her mind filled with swirling thoughts and emotions.

"Thank you, Harry. Your advice means a lot to me." She replies with a soft breath as she ran and nervously hand through her curls.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Hermione contemplating her next steps. She knew that she couldn't let fear hold her back from what could potentially be a beautiful connection.

But she also didn't want to lose her job and be known as the Minister with the shortest time in office.

As the days turned into weeks, Hermione found herself unable to shake off her growing feelings for Y/n. She longed for a deeper connection, a chance to explore what lay beneath the surface. She knew that it was time to have an honest conversation with Y/n, to lay her cards on the table.

Question was, would Y/n fold?

Hermione was currently in her office, going through this months expenses spreadsheet. Her eyes darted over the too many zeros that landed on the total sum, which only made her want to run her head through a wall.

"Are you alright, Minister?"

She jumped and looked up to find Y/n leaning against her doorframe, a small raise of her eyebrow.

"What? Yes! No! Wait, what was the the question?" She coughed out in surprise,

Smooth Hermione, smooth.

"I asked if you were alright" Y/n chuckled as she walked in and sat at one of the two chairs in front of Hermione's desk.

"Oh! I'm fine. Just looking over the expenses" Hermione sighs out as Y/n grinned slightly, a glint of understanding in her eye.

"You saw that number too? I don't think I'd ever make that much in two lifetimes" She chuckled as Hermione began to smile, her hair falling slightly in her face.

"You think you could have that much in three lifetimes?" She asks and Y/n sighed, a soft smile on her lips.

"Fine. Six lifetimes." She admitted, making Hermione snicker softly as she put the paper away in one of the piles. She'd deal with it later.

Her eyes flickered to the clock that hung on her wall and she was surprised to see it already 9 p.m. Their eyes reconnect as Hermione straightened her back and took a small deep breath.

"You should really get home Y/n. It's so late now." Hermione sighs as she grabbed another stack of folders from her 'IN' box. How she wished she still was able to go home at regular times.

"I don't go home till you do" Y/n hummed as she rested her leg over the other and watched her Minister stress about things that could very much wait till tomorrow.

Hermione looked back up at her with a soft chuckle, this wasn't the first time Y/n had said this, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"You're loyalty to me is unmatched" Hermione whispers as Y/n grinned even more, making the Ministers face feel hot as she could hear Harry's words from the Cafe echo somewhere in the back of her mind. She had to confess her feelings, it was now or never.

"Of course" Y/n replied as she stood up and walked over to Hermione's desk, grabbing half the stack of folders, and walking back to the seat.

Hermione took a steadying breath as Y/n sat back down, their eyes meeting once more. In those piercing eyes she saw kindness, dedication, and something else she dared not name, at least not yet.

But the hours were growing late and she knew her courage would fade with the light if she did not speak her truth now.

"Y/n, there is something I must confess." Her voice came out soft yet resolute. Setting her quill down, she folded her hands as if in prayer to steady them.

"These past few months working together, I have come to rely on you not just as my assistant but as...as someone very dear to me. Your support and friendship have meant more than I can say." She paused, afraid to continue yet knowing she had come too far to turn back.

Would Y/n understand? Return her feelings? Or would this truth destroy the bond they had built? Only one way to find out.

"What I'm trying to say is...I care for you as more than a colleague or friend. My affections have grown beyond what is appropriate. I understand if this makes you uncomfortable and of course nothing needs to change. Your friendship is most important to me. I simply couldn't bear not speaking the truth, for fear of what might have been." She states, her words hung between them, freighted with vulnerability and hope.

A gentle smile spread across Y/n's face as Hermione spoke, her own cheeks flushing pink in response. One did not earn the position of Ministry assistant without possessing a cool head in delicate situations, yet even she found herself momentarily flustered by such raw honesty.

"Hermione," she began, settling into a relaxed yet attentive pose as if to set them both at ease.

"I must admit I had hoped my own feelings were not so transparent. You have been quite inspiring to work for, though 'inspiring' fails to capture all that I feel." Y/n whispers, her eyes held Hermione's gaze steadily, conveying warmth and care beneath the subtle tease.

"Say rather that serving you has allowed me to see your true heart - wise, compassionate, and now open to me in a way I dare not have dreamed. I would be remiss in my duties if I did not return such openness in kind." She states with as a playful glint entered her eye then, lightening the mood.

"So is that permission to call you something other than 'Minister' once we've left this office behind...? I believe the day calls for a walk, if you're agreeable." She asks with a grin, her smile lingered hopefully. Hermione jumped up with alacrity, her chair toppling backwards in her haste.

"Of course, I - oh shit!" She whispers as papers scattered far and wide as a thick dossier slipped off the edge of her desk, sending important documents fluttering every which way.

Y/n couldn't suppress a lively peal of laughter at the sheepish expression on Hermione's flushed face, and soon the two women found themselves giggling uncontrollably like schoolgirls caught in mischief.

"I do believe the Ministry can spare its esteemed leader for an evening," Y/n teased, rising to assist in the cleanup.

Her gentle fingers brushed Hermione's as she passed over a fallen piece of parchment, and their eyes met once more - full of mirth now, and something sweeter behind it. What a sight they must be, the usually steadfast Minister reduced to this giddy state!

Yet in that moment, surrounded by paperwork and possibilities, any shred of propriety seemed a small price to pay for the joy of Y/n's company outside these walls.

At last the disaster area was tamed, and with a flourish Y/n opened the office door.

"After you, Minister." She says, her tone held only warm affection now. As they embarked into the lamplit corridors arm in arm, a whisper of what delights the night might hold hung tantalizingly in the air.

But for the present, a stroll beneath the stars with good company would be magic enough. Our story's lovebirds had earned an evening of carefree happiness.

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic #fluff

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star-railfanboy · 2 years ago

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His Hero Pt 1

|Hello Everyone who comes across this. I saw some fan art drawing Dan Heng as Spider-Man and my brain refuses to let go of the thought. Dan Heng is my Favorite Star Rail character and Spider-Man is my favorite superhero so I'm mixing the two in this au. It will be more than one part. The reader will be shorter than Dan Heng. Anyways as always feel free to change the pronouns to fit you own. Enjoy and I hope you have a wonderful day or night.

Scenario: He got bitten by a radio active spider. Before that happened he was a standard college book nerd. He was working on his biology degree. He has a high moral obligation when it comes to people in need. That is if he is able to do something. He somehow manages to find a balance between his life and his life as a vigilante. Though getting closer to his crush is a bonus to the chaos that is his life.

Dan Heng x A Male Reader

Warnings: minor spoilers for Dan Heng and Blade's lore as well as the main story quest, mentions of death, injuries, minor angst, and very long|

Dan Heng:

Dan Heng had gotten injured during his last battle. He never expected he'd get into that situation. He was against a new organization that had arisen in his city recently. They claimed their leader could predict the future.

He was against the person named Blade from the group. He looked familiar to Dan Heng. The hero couldnt place his finger on the familiarity until he said something. The thing happened to catch him off guard. Blade called him by his dead brother who caused a lot of problems for him. It made his blood run cold and muddled his mind for a moment which lead him arm getting cut.

His late brother was the reason he wasn't living a normal life. He was the one that raised Dan Heng. He had cause a lot of issues for a lot of people. Dan Heng unfortunately looked similar to his brother that many mistook him for the other. He did a lot of things that upset a lot of people. However before things went down hill he was considered a hero and highly respected. He wished to not be his brother's shadow anymore.

His brother was the original Spider-Man. He bitten and relied on two of his friends. They were named Yingxing and Jiang Yuan. Dan Heng sort of remembered them but somethings happened when his brother had his down fall and his memories were scattered about.

He never met the two as he always hid in his room when they were over. He had seen them a couple of times when he peaked out of his room to see if they had left yet but they never saw him. With Yingxing he never saw the other's face while once or twice he caught a glimpse of Jiang Yuan's face. His brother also never mentioned him as they had a rocky relationship.

Dan Heng only found out about his brother being a hero because he came home injured. He took care of the wound. Though he had no clue about the experiments his brother was conducting until he found himself bitten by a radioactive spider that bit his brother. He remembered not wishing to even be in his brother's lab but Yinyue Jun forgot something important at home. He brought to his brother. His sort of remembered Yingxing being there but he doesnt trust his memory of the incident. After all his mind became hazy and memories fragmented.

He hadn't seen nor heard anything involving Yingxing since Yinyue Jun had died. Which happened not soon after he visited the lab. While Jiang Yuan mistook Dan Heng for his brother and arrested him for a short period of time. The arrest was removed off his record when they discovered that he was Dan Heng not Yinyue Jun. Jiang Yuan is kind and wished to help Dan Heng if he needed but the dark haired male was always mistaken as his brother.

Dan Heng also sense the white haired male held guilt for anything that happened involving his brother. He remembered everyone talking about his brother at the funeral. So many mixed emotions and opinions that he couldn't make heads or tails about. With his memories scattered it was hard to sort his thoughts and memories about the other. He choose to separate himself from his brother but people still claimed he was just living in Yinyue Jun's shadow.

He managed to make it out of the fight just fine. He had taken Blade down though he figured it wouldn't be for long as one of his comrades showed up. He had left quickly as Kafka was one of their group he didnt like messing with. He was safe from the two but he was still shaken up. Dan Heng hadn't changed out of his suit just yet. He just found himself in an alleyway hidden from sight trying to calm himself. He was trying to organize his thoughts. While he didn't sense any danger he heard footsteps approaching.

Dan Heng gave a sigh just what he needed. It was bad enough his vigilante side gig was exposed cause he ran into March 7th one night. Of course she thought he was Yinyue Jun as he reused his brother's suit design. He was now the same height as his brother once was. The general public minus Jiang Yuan thought he was still the original Spider-Man. The only difference was he refused to work during the day to avoid being seen. His brother was once again the original hero.

He wanted to leave before he was seen by this new person. He readied himself to swing out of there bracing himself for the sting that will occur. "Wait a second!" The person called out. He mentally cursed to himself.

For the second time that night his blood when cold. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. It was someone he holds dear. They met because of group project the shorter male had to work on with his roommates. Stelle and Caelus had fought over who was his friend. March wasn't home that day. They got acquainted then but didn't become close until he started his job at the local library. They were studying science and history. Which was very fitting for the other.

While he was reminiscing at how they met he felt a hand on his wrist. (Eye colored) eyes staring at him. "Look I'm sure you prefer not to be touched but I noticed a gash on your arm. My friends are constantly talking about you. You saved two of them once so I dont think youre a bad person. I know you're a hero and most likely wish to keep your identity hidden which I fully respect. Just hear me out please. I want take you to my home to patch you up. It's not far from here. I just worry about you swinging about with that wound Spider-Man." The shorter male said with a worried look. His eyes staring at the gash with a frown.

Dan Heng started thinking about everything. He knew (Name) was trustworthy. After the two became friends he learned the shorter of the two was very kind and gentle. He was also someone the hero would trust his life to if the situation called for it. Dan Heng thought it would best to just nod. He knew the other would lose sleep from worry. He saw relief flood into the other's eyes.

He was lead to (Name)'s home. It wasn't far and he was positive no one saw them. Dan Heng became a bit red under his mask due to the fact (Name) hadn't let go of his hand yet. The smaller male had sat him down. "Make yourself at home while I go get my first aid kit. Is it also possible to pull your arm out of your suit? If so pull it out please. I don't wish to damage your suit further but I want to make sure your arm is properly wrapped." (Name) said letting go and

"Caelus and Stelle are going to kill me if they find out about this. It'll be even worse for me if they tell Dan Heng." Dan Heng heard him mutter to himself while grabbing the first aid kit from the bathroom. While he was grabbing it Dan Heng pulled his arm out of his suit. It was made with the mask and body suit were separate. Had he not ran into (Name) then he'd be in that alleyway still.

He was rather nervous about this. (Name) came back and accessed the wound. He quickly began tending to the wound. "It may sting for a second. I'm going fo clean it." His soft voice said. The hero thought his voice had eased his mind a bit. He winced slightly from the disinfectant.

"If this happens again feel free to come here to get taken care of. Both of my parents are both in the medical field. I learned a lot from them. They taught me since some of my friends were constantly getting hurt when we were kids." (Name) couldn't believe he just offered that.

The (eye colored) male knew his friends would yell at him for this but he couldn't help it. The hero saved March and Caelus both in the past. His identity was a secret so getting help must be hard. It must be so lonely and hard. He had no interest in prying at all. He took care of his wound with ease. The hero was gone quickly after with a soft thanks.

What he just offered had finally sunk in what he offered. The adrenaline of seeing the wound and his need to help others died down. He pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Himiko. 'Hey Himiko I may have done something extremely dumb.' He quickly typed out. He couldn't go to his other friends after all. They'd make a trip this late to come scold him.

'Is everything alright? Do you need me to send Welt to stay over for a bit?' Himiko quickly replied as he cleaned everything up. This was going to be stuck in his mind for awhile. He just hoped making a deal to aide the hero wouldn't come to bite him in the butt. He chatted with Himiko for awhile until he was able to relax about the situation.

Dan Heng swung through the city until he snuck his way back home. His other three roommates didn't know about him being Spider-Man. In fact the only ones who did know were the oldest of the friend group. Himiko and Welt helped him immensely from making his suit to improving his gear.

After he got changed out of the suit he leaned on a wall. He had tossed his phone on his bed to not think about it. He covered his now extremely red face. There's no possible way he'd actually take (Name) on his offer to patched up as much as he yearned for it. It would put the smaller male at risk if anyone saw him heading there to get help.

He was trying to calm his racing heart when he noticed his phone light up signaling a message. He picked it up to check who could be messaging him. His eyes widened when he saw Himiko asking if he was ok. It was as if she had a second sense. 'I am fine you don't need to worry about me.' He responded.

'Glad you are ok.

A little birdy told me our dear (Name) patched up your wound and offered for you to come to him in the future. Though you did make him worry and freak out afterwards.

He messaged me freaking out because he offered to help a certain hero.

He was worried because he knows nothing about the hero but had a run in with him being injured tonight. I am relieved he patched you up regardless. Anyways get some rest and good night Dan Heng.' Himiko messaged.

Dan Heng gave a sigh. The smaller male was too kind for his own good. He'd be extremely worried had it been anyone else that was Spider-Man. He should plan something as his hero alter ego to thank him for patching him up. He also makes a mental note to persuaded him to not offer that. It could very much put him into dangers sights.

His hand subconsciously went to the bandages on his arm. He remembered the soft tone and gentle hands. His heart sped up once again for that night. He'd just realized he'd never been at the other's home. His face started heating up. He hoped he wouldn't have any late night knocks on his door from his roommates.

Needless to say the two males were up for the rest of the night. Dan Heng thinking about the shorter male. While (Name) was thinking of him without knowing know it. The following day started off normal for Dan Heng which was nice after a night of fighting crime.

His roommates had left their shared home earlier for classes or work. Making him the only one home. He didn't have any classes to attend that day which he was happy about. It also meant his arm would be able to heal more easily. At least for one day. He replaced the bandages on his arm carefully

All Dan Heng had to do was work his shift at the library. Which was a relief for him considering how much sitting in a lecture hall coping notes may irritate his cut. He heard a small knock on the door. Which he went to go answer. He looked slightly surprised seeing (Name) upon opening the door. His expression went back to his typical stoic one.

"Hey Dan Heng is Stelle here? She left something at my house the other day. I wanted to meet up with her but she hasn't been answering my texts. I think she's mad at me after Caelus made me draw for him in their gatcha game. Caelus got the character she wanted. She got a duplicate and blamed it on me rolling for the other." The shorter male said with a smile. Dan Heng shook his head.

"She has already left for her classes. Would you like me to put it on the counter for her? You also might have to roll for her later. Next time tell them both anything that happens isn't your fault." He said knowing how those two are. The shorter male nods. He gave a smile glad to have ran into Dan Heng. He was invited in for a moment. "Do you work today? If so and our shifts align we should walk there together." His gentle voice said.

"I am closing tonight so I won't be in until later. However I am happy to walk you there if you work earlier." Dan Heng answered setting the notebook on the counter and leaving a quick note for Stelle. It just meant more time they can spend together. He looked into shining (eye color) eyes. Dan Heng had a fond look in his eyes. He would deny it if anyone asked but he could get lost in those eyes.

"That would be appreciated. I am a mid shift today so when you clock in I'll be clocking out. If it's no hassle for you." The shorter male answered rubbing his neck. Dan Heng noticed his posture seemed timid. He tiled his head concerned. The other had a habit of not liking to bother others. He was worried someone was harassing his friend.

"Is everything ok?" The taller male asked with a worried look. His ocean eyes watched the other look away. "You know you can tell me whatever is troubling you. I'm always willing to lend an ear if you need one." He said softly. The other gave a sigh. His tone make the shorter male's heart skip a beat. "Promise not to get angry?" The response caught the hero off guard.

"If you're in danger or anything I won't be angry just worried. I can arrange for myself Caelus or Stelle to pick you up and walk you to work if you need. If none of us are available we can ask Mr. Yang." Dan Heng answered coming closer to the other. He was observing any movements that might spark concern.

The shorter male shook his head. "I'm not in danger I promise. It's just I have been feeling as though someone is watching me lately. Plus I want to spend more time with you as I haven't seen you very much." He lied for the first half of his sentence. It felt like something was amiss but Dan Heng couldn't place a finger on it.

Dan Heng frowned hearing his response. "If you have that feeling why didn't you ask sooner? I am happy to walk you. After you get off come here someone should be home. Wait for me here and we'll talk with the rest of our friends if we can work something out until the feeling is gone alright?" He offered a reassuring look.

"I'm fine with waiting at the library until you get off. I have some exams to study for anyways." (Name) said. He was happy go be around the dark haired male. His presence soothed him for some reason. He loved being around the young biologist. He was glad they met. He gave a nod in agreement.

"I am happy to help. It's better safe than sorry in this kind of situation. If it's just a feeling it should subside soon. Let me get ready and I'll stay with you for the rest of the day. I don't have any classes today and wasn't planning on doing much." Dan Heng got a nod in response. He'd make sure nothing would happen to the other.

"Also if the feeling is truly nothing then that's ok as well. I'd rather you feel safe. I can also teach you some self defense just in case if you want." Dan Heng stated. The other quickly shook his head no. His face was slightly pink. "Though it wouldn't hurt to learn I don't think we need to go that far." (Name) said looking away.

The two walked to the library chatting a bit. There was periods of silence but it was very comfortable. The two walked together as if it's was natural for them to be by each other's side. It has always been this way since they became close. As they were walking Dan Heng sensed danger and pulled the shorter male closer to him.

He winced and gave a sharp breath. He grabbed the other with his injured arm. "Dan Heng?" The shorter male asked worried. He felt safe in the other's arms but that sharp breath worried him. "Don't worry about me." He said still holding the other close. He looked around trying to find the danger it was in the middle of the day so there wasn't many people around.

He got slapped on his injured arm. He took another sharp breath. "What are you so on guard about Dan Heng?" March asked while looking at him holding (Name). She quickly took a picture. "You both are together and didn't tell me? How rude!" She shouted. She watched the shorter male go super red. While her stoic roommate had a faint blush. He quickly let go of the other.

"You're misunderstanding March. I am just walking him to work. I felt something was off and then you appeared. Also delete that picture" Dan Heng said. He shook his head at March 7th. While (Name) looked concerned. "Did you injure your arm? I can look at it if you need." The shorter male quickly asked grabbing his hand which made his blush darker slightly. He couldn't let the other see his arm since the other may piece together his identity.

"Some of my books fell on me last night while I was organizing my shelves. Which bruised my arm a bit. I am fine. Again dont worry about me." He stated. There was the worry in the his friends' eyes. "It'll heal soon I'm ok I promise." He reiterated. He didn't need March seeing it too. He was still high alert and his senses were going crazy. He wanted to ensure his friends safety.

The shorter two started walking. They were barely in front of the taller male. March wrapped her arm around (Name)'s basically dragging him. Dan Heng followed and out of there corner of his eye he spotted long black hair disappearing into an nearby alleyway. He knew it belonged to as well. A frown appeared on his face.

He heard a creaking sound and reacted quickly by pulling his two friends back into his chest. "Hey what's the big idea!?" March yelled. She was about to go off more until a very old looking sign fell onto the ground. Had he not pulled them back it would've fell on the shorter two. March immediately looked at him wide eyed. "Do you have super powers or something?" She asked.

Dan Heng looked at the building. It was very old and looked abandoned which is probably why the sign fell. "I just have a good intuition. Are you both alright?" He asked letting go of them both. (Name) just looked at the crumbled sign in shock for a moment. "Dan Heng you're amazing for saving us. You're always so reliable!" He said turning to his dark haired friend. His eyes shining in awe.

Dan Heng looked away his face a bit pink. "Let's get you to work and talk about this later. I don't want you being late." He mumbled. March stared at the other. She started plotting in her mind since these two obviously liked each other. They were about to start walking again when a police car pulled over. "Are you three alright?" The cop asked getting out and coming over.

Dan Heng recognized that voice and sighed. "We are fine Jiang Yuan. Do you need a statement from us?" He asked glancing at the other. March looked between the two in surprise. She was shocked Dan Heng new this person at all. He was so anti social she thought he only knew those of their little friend group.

The white haired man shook his head no. "I saw everything that happened so no need as long as you're all fine." He stated with a relaxed smile. Dan Heng gave a quick nod ready to leave. "How do you know Dan Heng?" March asked before they were able to leave.

Jiang Yuan gave a small head tilt and another smile. "I was long time friends with his older brother. How have you been doing by the way? You ignore my messages so much that I worry." He said. Dan Heng sighed. "I'm fine and March before you ask I don't wish to talk about my brother. Now if you'll excuse us we'll be off." He said quickly. Which cause Jiang Yuan to frown a bit.

"I'll talk to you later Jiang Yuan." Dan Heng said as they started walking off towards the library. He should ask the other if there was anyone other than him and Yingxing that knew who Spider-Man was before him. That would help him when dealing with Blade and may lead to the stellaron hunters' fall.

They made it to the library without further delay. After the sign fell Dan Heng's sense stopped sending warning signals. When (Name) was safely in the library he dropped March off where she needed to go. She had tried pestering him to learn information about his brother until dropping it when he said nothing.

When he was alone he pulled his phone out and called Jiang Yuan. Who to his surprise answered immediately. "Dan Heng I didn't think you'd actually talk with me. This is a pleasant surprise. I had gotten off work not that long ago so I can chat for as long as you need." He said in his usual tone. Dan Heng just listened for a bit. "Could we meet up I have some questions involving your old group with Yinyue Jun?" He asked.

"Certainly. Where would you like to meet? I am free for the rest of the day. It sounds serious though. If I may be so bold to ask. Is everything ok?" He answered. "I am unsure at the moment. You know Himiko's coffee shop? Let's meet there." Was the response he got back.

Dan Heng felt himself grow anxious at this meeting. He wondered if he was actually going to get the answers to some of the questions that have been on his mind for awhile. He ordered himself a coffee and sat in the corner of the shop waiting for the other. He had started texting Caelus while waiting.

After 15 minutes Jiang Yuan showed up. He ordered a tea and then came over and sat across Dan Heng. "So what do you need to ask?" He said giving his full attention to the younger male.

Dan Heng sent a quick got to go message to Caelus before putting his phone away. "Did anyone know about my brother's side gig other than you and Yingxing?" He asked. His eyes watched golden ones look surprised. He must've caught the other off guard with his question.

"How did you find out about his side gig? As far as I was aware he kept it a secret from everyone but Yingxing and I." Jiang Yuan said. He placed his arms on the table and rested his face on his palm. He thought that Dan Heng had no clue who he was when they met for the first time. Much less Yingxing.

"I knew cause he messed up and came home bloody. Before his passing I got bit by a spider like him. As I'm sure you're aware from reports the hero is still active." Dan Heng said. Even though they plus Himiko were the only ones in the shop they were still in public. Which made Dan Heng keep things as vague as he could.

Jiang Yuan gave a nod and an understanding look. "Only Yingxing and I knew. Yingxing was the one who made all of his tools and I'd help him stay out of trouble with the law. Your brother didn't trust our other two friends with the information. Even I wasnt given all of the details. Yingxing was the one that every secret was entrusted to and the same goes for vice versa. Anything else you wish to know?" He explained.

He watched the younger male frown and go into a deep thought. Jiang Yuan grabbed his cup and took a sip waiting for the other to process the information. Dan Heng wondered if Jiang Yuan knew of Yingxing's where abouts. "Where is he now?" Dan Heng asked when the older male placed his cup down.

"He's presumably dead. With Yinyue Jun being his murder. Which is why our first meeting was less than Ideal. I had no clue he even had any living relatives after all." Jiang Yuan answered. Dan Heng's stoic expression changed to a perplexed one for a second. "What's the matter?"

"Did my older brother fight a bad guy with red eyes and long hair? He goes by the name Blade." Dan Heng asked. He was trying to make sense how Blade knew his brother's name while he was suited up. Jiang Yuan put a hand to his chin to think for a moment. "That description doesn't fit any of the villains he fought. Why do you ask?" The white haired male tilted his head again.

"I fought him last night and in the middle of battle he called out my brother's name. He laughed like a mad man while lunging at me with cracked sword. It looked as if it had been repaired with gold." Dan Heng explained. Jiang Yuan frowned.

"I wonder if my old friend is still alive. Which would make me more curious about what happened when your brother died. Yingxing had several conditions and was nearing his death bed when your brother started to fall from his title as a hero. Unfortunately I am unable to provide any more details as I dont know them." Jiang Yuan said. He noticed the younger male going back into a deep thought.

"Looks like it's time to permanently change my suit. If I encounter Blade again I'll try taking a picture for you to confirm or deny. I wish to right the wrongs caused by my brother if possible. Would you mind if I worked with you for a bit?" Dan Heng asked. Jiang Yuan agreed happily. He seemed fine with the idea of being relied on.

After the older male left. He spoke with Himiko about them working on a new suit design that fits him better with Welt. She seemed to agree eager to dress him up in different styles. He looked at the time and noticed it was close to his shift so he made his way back to the library. He quickly clocked in for work greeting his coworkers who just got off. He was working the front desk today.

When he arrived to the front desk he was an unhappy Stelle standing at the front desk with her friend Gepard from one of her classes. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you brought an injured super hero home last night? Then you chose not to tell any of us? I only found out because Gepard had seen you with Spider-Man in an alleyway while he was picking something up for his sister." They asked crossing their arms.

"Because you and the other over protective members of our group would scold me. He was injured and I couldn't just leave him to bleed out." (Name) said quietly looking away. "Of course we would." They said with a blank look. He was treating it like it wasn't a big deal.

"That's extremely dangerous (Name). Is that why you've been feeling like someone has been following you? If so you should've told me earlier. What if you became a target." Dan Heng stated as if he had no clue. (Name)'s eyes widened and Gepard had jumped being startled by the dark haired male. The shorter male looked down defeated he definitely didn't want Dan Heng knowing.

"I know but the hero had saved both March and Caelus before. He's not a bad person. Anyways what's done is done. Even if I could go back amd change it I wouldn't. Doesn't matter how angry you all are at me. I gotta clock off." (Name) said quickly getting up.

Stelle and Dan Heng exchanged looks. They gave a nod to the other. Gepard looked confused as if the two had a whole conversation without exchanging any words. "I'll leave it to you then. You better bring him home with you tonight so he's not at risk. Caelus will also be informed." They said turning to leave. They both knew he'd handle it. Seems he wasn't as careful as he thought to not be seen.

(Name) returned holding his head low. He refused to look at Dan Heng. "I don't wanna talk about it." He muttered pulling out one of his text books. He looked defeated. Dan Heng wouldn't admit it but he felt hurt when the other refused to look at him.

"I won't scold you anymore but please be more careful in the future. If Spider-Man puts you in danger I have no clue what I'd do if you got hurt. While it's great you helped him take better care of your own safety ok?" Dan Heng said with a sign. He started scanning books that were recently returned.

"I will thanks Dan Heng." (Name) muttered. Some of the taller male's words had made his heart stutter. It was going to be ok. "Hey Dan Heng would you mind spending the night? I'm honestly paranoid about being alone. Having you with me will put my mind at ease." Though his voice was quiet Dan Heng heard every word perfectly.

Dan Heng smiled thinking about how much he was trusted. He was entering things into the library's data base. "Only if you agree to stop avoiding looking at me." He answered. He glanced at the chair (Name) were sitting in to see his (eye color) eyes looking up at him. His face becoming red as they met the other's ocean blue colored eyes. "I promise I'll stop." He muttered going back to studying.

Dan Heng thought he was cute when he was all pouty like that. He was going to skip his vigilante duties for just one night. It wouldn't hurt anything right? He hoped but his moral obligation was guiltiling him from the inside. He would just go out while the other slept. Couldn't hurt right?

#taylor writes #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #dan heng #danheng x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x male reader #tw mentions of death

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figurativepieceoftrash · 1 year ago

Note

Avid supporter of avoiding your wips.

Not sure if you have something you specifically want to write but Fiend!Aki has been rotting in my own drafts with no where to go

There were so many ways I could've interpreted this prompt and I'm almost 100% certain I did it wrong but here's an Asa/War spin on the Aki and Gun Devil situation, for, y'know, funsies

Sorry it took so long, I ended up procrastinating on this just like I do my wips, so y'know, obviously this exercise worked out super well :P

Here you go regardless <33

---

Aki doesn’t remember much about the incident.

The sound of gunshots. Scattered screams. A stinging, smokey smell thick in the air, as dense and inescapable as the aftermath of Obon. Cold metal smattered across his taste buds, rife with the selfsame rust-touched exigency as blood.

He’d been dreaming, or so Denji relates from the bedside of a maximum security hospital room. A dream he’s certain he could recall, if he wished to. He doesn’t.

Makima had called him lucky, as she’d studied him with those hypnotic, unblinking eyes. Unharmed, save a few noncommittally lingering scars.

She’d dragged a slow, lazy finger across the red band of his upper arm, and his heart had raced thrice as swiftly in his chest. Said something about them having to reattach it in the ER, about Denji having done quite the number.

Aki hadn’t heard a thing. He’d been far too busy staring into those eyes. They’d lit something in the back of his brain, a sharp, nagging spark of recognition, persistent and enduring. It was only then he’d thought to ask after the Angel Devil, only then that he’d been certain the two were conversing, when it’d happened.

The spark in the barrel. The moment of ignition. The suckerpunch recoil.

Makima had just smiled. Pressed a smooth, gentle fingertip to Aki’s lips. Somehow, after that, the question didn't matter. It still doesn’t.

“You’re a very unique specimen, Aki,” Makima had noted, head cocked and eyes alight with dark curiosity, “can you tell me why the Gun Devil has taken such a keen interest in you?”

He’d tried not to flinch at the name. He’s still upset that he’d failed. “No. Just that I wish it hadn’t.”

The corners of her mouth had twitched at that. Such a minute movement, so human, but Aki had found an impression of intentionality in it, somehow. The careful, premeditated performance of organic vulnerability.

“You’d rather it left you to die?”

He’d thought of Power, then. Of Denji. No.

The death count still rolling across the wall-mounted hospital television, the footage of a gun barrel protruding from his forehead, his brother, his parents, his commitment. Yes.

What he says is “maybe.”

She’d laughed at that, high and clear as a bell, and Aki isn’t even angry for it. He can’t be. It’s Makima.

“I’m glad,” she’d said, “that you’re mine.”

Aki couldn’t agree more. He just wishes the back of his brain would too. It’s still sounding off even now, muted as it is. Still doesn’t like the look of Makima, of her eyes.

Still thinks of Angel, even when Aki finds he can’t.

“This sucks.” Power’s complaints had been predictably ineloquent. “The apartment is trashed so I can’t see Meowy, this hospital is super boring, and Denji doesn’t even have enough cash to buy me stuff from the vending machine. I’m hunggggryyyyy!”

She wasn’t trying to be insensitive, Aki knew. If things had been difficult for her after their run in with the Darkness Devil, they were even more difficult now that she’d seen one of the few enduring constants in her life behave unpredictably. Dangerously. Lethally.

He’d almost killed Denji. Several times he’d almost killed Denji. So he’d offered her an arm.

“Here. Only take a little. If you bite too hard I’ll knee you in the stomach.”

She’d been quick to accept the offer and even quicker to disregard the warning, needle-sharp teeth breaking over his skin and digging straight into sensitive nerves. He’d forced himself to take his eyes off the river of stray blood that slid down his bicep. It resurfaced too many memories. Memories of gunshots and screams, smoke and metal.

“Yuck!” The exclamation had taken him completely by surprise. Doubly so when Power had withdrawn to spit the contents of her mouth down the front of his hospital gown. “Fiend blood can be so gross. This stuff tastes like steel.”

“Thanks,” he’d muttered darkly, thoughts turning over the heart of her complaint as he’d risen to visit the bathroom.

Fiend blood.

It was the first time anyone had said it aloud, in those terms. He's fine with amalgam. With anomaly. Even threat is alright, considering that it is, for all intents and purposes, accurate.

And the fact that it, like its equally vague, shapeless peers, places distance between Aki and the thing he's become. A thin wall of uncertainty to shield the was from the is. The familiar from the unthinkable.

Aki always thought he hated false comforts. Now, he's beginning to suspect he'd just never been introduced to a truth worthy of delusion.

It visits him sometimes, the Gun Devil, always in the dead of night and always terribly, gut-wrenchingly accusatory. Vaguely translucent, it positions itself in the corner of his room and stays there. Mute. Gleaming. Inhumanely still.

Power and Denji can't see it, of course, which means that one way or another, it resides in Aki’s head. This should be comforting, according to Makima, the fact that the Gun Devil is contained, and better, under control of the Japanese government.

There's no real control to this though, Aki thinks, the strange pseudo-peace between himself and the time bomb ticking within the fragile confines of his skull. Just the illusion of it.

He doesn't recall anything leading up to the inciting incident. Doesn't know how he died or what allowed the devil to take control. Why it lost it, following his concussion. When it might try its luck again.

This is why Aki has been forced to reside in the Commission’s headquarters, subject to intrusive levels of surveillance and constant physical surveys. Partial host autonomy isn't unheard of, in the case of fiends, but it is exceedingly rare, especially regarding beings of the Gun Devil's caliber.

Aki imagines he can't be as singular as Denji, but then again, Denji isn't quite so unpredictable. The Gun Devil can't be sated by the promise of simple pleasure, can't be reasoned with, or even communicated with, to Aki’s most meticulous observation.

It's as thoughtless as it is brutal, the epitome of action without thought. Maybe this is because it's technically incomplete, or maybe it's because the concept it represents is ultimately more tool than perpetrator. Aki can't say.

Can't force himself to care, either.

He glares at the thing when it shows its presence, hurling the occasional obscenity in the case that he's certain of his own seclusion. Nothing impacts it though, not really. It just stares, and stares, and stares.

Makima’s visits are sporadic at first, cursory and seemingly meaningless, but they grow with time, both in consistency and purpose. Oddly enough, most of her inquiries don't relate to Aki’s condition. They relate to Denji.

“Is he progressing socially with the staff?”

“How attached would you say he is to his new accommodations?”

“Is he happy?”

Aki doesn't question Makima's seeming obsession–in all honesty, he suspects he couldn't if he wanted to. He just nods along or shakes his head as required, answering swiftly and candidly as he's able.

Giving Makima the things she wants is second nature, simpler and more automatic than breathing. He never thinks to question it, if he even thinks at all.

The Gun Devil appears sometimes, just after she leaves the room. These are the only occasions in which it seems to display agency, or at the very least, some degree of behavioral variation. Because then, it doesn't stare at Aki. It stares at the door.

It stares after Makima.

“Does the Chainsaw Devil ever do that?” He can't help but ask over a tray of bland hospital food. Power and Denji already swiped up everything with flavor. “Manifest visually?”

“Like, can I see him? Nah.” Denji frowns, the expression oddly melancholic. “Wish I could, though.”

And Aki is just as lost as ever.

The doctors tell him his vitals are normal. That his brainwaves are consistent. Obviously his head isn't a gun.

“You can't transform at will?” One asks, eyebrow raised. “That's unusual, based on what we've observed.”

Aki just shrugs. What about his situation isn't?

He gets the impression that the commission is dissatisfied with his lack of control over the Gun Devil, presumably because it means they can't effectively employ it.

“We've lost more than we've gained here,” one surveyor whispers to another when they think he's asleep, though he isn't quite lucid enough to catch the rest of it. He does think on though, at least until Makima returns and his mind, once again, goes numb.

Things are consistent, for a good while. Predictable. Almost comfortable, if he ignores his midnight visitor. Power finds a hobby in harassing the hallway guards. Aki learns the weekly rotation schedule of his doctors. Denji is relaxed again. Contented, just like Makima seems to desire.

And Aki, too, is happy. Until one night, without warning or prior fanfare, something changes.

It's dark outside, far past one in the morning, and silent for it. Nothing distracts Aki from his mute, late night musings aside from Power and Denji’s soft, even breathing and the familiar background whirr of facility electronics.

And then, something speaks.

“You should run.”

Aki jolts up, ramrod straight, in bed, stirring, but not waking, Denji and Power with the motion. The voice is foreign, deep and grating like rebar dragging across concrete, and it sets every nerve in his body immediately on edge.

His gaze lands, immediately, on the figure in the corner of the room. His body with a full pistol for a head. The thing is stone-still. Expressionless, insofar as a gun can be.

But somehow, he's absolutely certain he heard it talk.

He wraps a protective arm around each form at his side, trying to ignore the persistent shaking that's overtaken his hands. “Are you threatening me?”

It cocks its head to the side, as if in contemplation. Waits for a moment. Makes an odd noise somewhere between a click and a whirr.

“She's coming. You should run.”

Aki blinks, perturbed. “She?”

“She.” It nods, slow and self-assured. “You won't like what happens after.”

“I– what the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

As if in explanation, the thing raises a hand, ring and pinky finger pressed to the palm, and points purposefully at first Power, then Denji, performing short, jolting upwards motions towards each. A firing fingergun.

Aki's blood runs icecold.

“You're going to make me hurt them again, aren't you?”

“No.” It somehow has the gall to sound offended. “She is.”

“She? Who the fuck is she? I don't–”

“Control.” It says the word with such fearful, adorant gravity. As if it's speaking of a superior. As if it's speaking of a god. “She approaches.” Then, in a sharp, purposeful whisper, a bullet from a barrel, it utters the word again. “Run.”

Aki doesn't trust the thing. Not even moderately. But hearing this thing, this vast, limitless, horrible, inhuman thing, express terror, of all emotions, is enough to light a fire under his ass. To force adrenaline through his veins. To break him from his odd, trancelike haze.

He shakes Power with one hand and Denji with the other.

“How dare you wake the great, indomitable Power while she's resting, you absolute–”

“Hey, what the hell, man? I was dreamin’ about tits–”

“Shut up.” And like dogs at a whistle, they do. “We're going out for a run. Get your shoes, we can't take anything else.”

There must be something in his tone, because neither protest. Just nod with varying degrees of enthusiasm and run to the mat at the doorside to retrieve their sneakers.

The halls are labyrinthine, and Aki doesn't know them well. Navigating them is a guessing game in broad daylight; after dark, it's an impossibility.

But Power seems to know where she's going, either by smell or by sound, and when she decides to lead the way through the Commission facility's winding corridors, Aki makes the bold decision to follow her lead.

Usually the place never sleeps, constantly outfitted and operated by federal pencil-pushers and devil-hunters alike, but tonight, it's completely and utterly empty. Even the guards outside of Aki’s room are absent.

“Somethin's off,” Denji voices Aki’s concerns between hastened breaths, “like, really off. This place feels… weird.”

It would be impossible to disagree. The difference may be strange and implacable, aside from the lack of personal, but it does.

“How'd you know?”

Aki tried to shrug. Tries not to look at the thing keeping pace besides him. It may look calm, but he knows that the truth is anything but. Fear is radiating off it in waves, fear and a cold, overpowering desire for liberation.

“Just did.”

The thing at his side offers updates, as they run.

“She knows you've left the room.”

“She follows, close behind.”

“It is likely she will catch you.”

They aren't particularly helpful.

Not until, the trio turn a corner, exit suddenly in sight, to hear a fourth tactile presence enter the hallway.

“She's here.”

And she is. The approaching clack of heeled footfalls confirms it. The sense of oppressive calm that washes over Aki, a blanket. The familiar voice that wraps around the walls to reach his ears.

“Stop running.”

And he does. How couldn't he? It's Makima.

Denji stops too, turning on his heel with a massive, world-spanning grin, but Power doesn't. She keeps running until she hits the doors, only turning to cast a terrified scowl over her shoulder.

“Not safe!” She growls, animalistic, “keep running! Keep running!”

“It's just Makima.” Denji sounds so sure of himself. And he should. All is right in the world. All is calm. Makima will fix things. She always does.

And then, she's in sight, cheerful and unblinking, and Aki can't help but grin in turn.

“Come here,” she orders him, arms outstretched. And the order is for him, he knows, he can feel it. “Not you,” she adds, likely to Denji, “just him, for now.”

So instead, Denji speaks. “Makima, something weird’s going on, the place is totally empty and–”

“Shhh.” Soft and gentle, that's how the sound escapes her lips. Like silk Like a sigh.

“You walk to your death.” The Gun Devil, again. Only this time, its words mean nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. “You readily embrace it. Do not be so foolish.”

As Aki draws near, her arms wrap around him like a cradle, head resting against her shoulder. The low, warning roar grinding through his mind fades to nonexistence.

“It wasn't supposed to happen like this,” she breathes in the crux of his neck, “so suddenly. You were meant to die then, you know. Now, I don't think I'll let you die at all. That might be more effective, hm? At least as a failsafe.”

Aki nods. Of course Makima is right. She always is.

“Makima?” Denji doesn't sound scared. Not yet. Just confused. “What's going on? Is this–”

“Denji?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Shut up.”

They're odd words, coming from Makima’s lips. Odd, and callous, and just upsetting enough that the Gun Devil's words are able to find an opening, one last time.

“Run.”

Aki would like to say he tries. But he doesn't.

“Transform.”

And then, Aki's world goes black.

#csm #my writing #ask tag #et tu Cyber #I'm sorry if this is like. really bad hchffhjvjg #I've never written for csm before so uh. fingers crossed #didn't want to disappoint you so I sorta just went for it lol

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wintermarmalade · 11 months ago

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Apricity

God, everything hurts. Am I in a bed of charcoals? Where is this? Her thoughts were slow and disorganized, head filled with mud. She strained to open her eyelids and take in her surroundings. She was in a large, unfamiliar bedroom. It contained a modest dresser, vanity, bookshelf, and a table lined with jars of plant materials and writing utensils. A soft light filtered through a curtained window to her side. It was all so clean and organized, unsettlingly clean, in fact. She felt... out of place here. She thought about lifting herself up, but it only took a twitch of her hand shooting a sharp pain up her arm to tell her that was a bad idea.

Memories of the ritual she performed started filtering through the static. Oh, that's why I hurt. She wasn't sure if she wanted to remember more.

She glanced down to see what she could of her body. A thick blanket covered most of it, but she could see the mosaic of red, angry lines on her shoulders reaching down her arms, as well as the charred sigils on her chest. The wounds seemed to be several days old, at least, but were also freshly cleaned. Am I.... dead? Still stuck with this cursed body? Figures.

The door to the room opened quietly, and a white figure entered and gently shut the door behind it. Her eyes couldn't focus well enough to make out it's details, but the room itself seemed to brighten when it entered. A warm, coddling comfort began to flow within her, and the aches in her body seemed to calm a little. This must be an angel, and I'm definitely dead.

The form approached with an ethereal grace and silence as it's features came into focus. It's skin was lustrous and pale, hair long and silvery-white, it wore a small but ornate snow-lace dress, and had angelic wings elegantly draped down it's back. It's face bore a soft, caring smile, and it's eyes were a glittering dark blue that reflected light like a sapphire star. Star... sapphire... oh..... OH..... Is this the doll?! Alive? My ritual worked?

The angelic doll pulled a small stool from under the bed and sat next to her, her porcelain skin and ball-jointed hands now apparent. "I see you've awaken, Nyx. How are you feeling?" Her voice was impossibly silky and gentle, it felt otherworldly.

Her question didn't register, she was frozen, trying to process so many things at once. How... how could this have been made from myself? She's so radiant, so divine.

She stared in awe for several moments before managing to express the most urgent question in her mind. "Why am I here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I ripped my soul apart to make you, the remaining pieces should've been scattered after my body gave out and died, I'm not supposed to be here." Sharp pains all over her face reminded her of the cuts there, and that she shouldn't be getting too worked up.

"You did nearly bleed out, I was worried that I wasn't even able to stop enough of it in time." She said with a touch of fear in her voice. "But it would seem that your body and soul are more resilient than you expected, even if just barely."

"But..... why? Why save me?" She asked in exasperation.

"You are my other half, I want you to be here with me." She expressed genuinely, enough for Nyx to nearly believe it.

"You are all the good that was left in me. All the good that I ripped out, I am all the bad that was left behind. There's nothing in me to want." She winced in pain from moving her face too much again.

The doll looked at her with a deep sadness in her eyes, "I don't think it's so simple, Nyx."

Nyx thought for a moment, but was too exhausted to dwell on it much more.

The doll sighed softy and turned to pull a mortar and pestle out from the nightstand drawer along with a mixture of herbs and started slowly grinding them. "I was throwing out your old bandages before you woke up, this will go beneath your new ones once it's ready. I hope it doesn't sting too much."

Nyx closed her eyes and tried to sift through her muddy brain without much success before remembering that she had no idea where they were.

"Wait, where are we?"

"You don't recognize it? This is your room. It was a disaster, so I cleaned it up. Don't worry, everything is organized the way you used to do it."

"Oh.... um, thank you." She responded unsurely. She had forgotten how pretty all the engravings she had made in the floor were. It still felt inappropriately neat, however.

"You seem to know who I am."

"Of course, we share all the same memories up until the night we split."

"......Makes sense. Sooo, what should I call you?"

"I've been thinking about that, and I think I would like the name Apricity."

"Apricity... okay. It's pretty."

"I thought so too." She said with a blush. "Are you ready for the salve? It'll sting a lot, and there's a lot of area to cover." Apricity asked with a gentle worry.

Nyx gave her an incredulous look and gestured to the rest of her body with her head. "I'm sure I can handle it."

Apricity looked at her with concern, but trusted her, and began ever so tenderly rubbing the paste on her arm. Nyx tensed from the immediate sting, but took a slow breath and kept herself still.

"Is this okay?" Apricity asked softly.

"Fine." She responded through slightly clenched teeth.

As she continued applying the salve up her arm and onto her shoulders, Nyx began to embrace the stinging and relax her muscles a bit. While intense, there was something satisfying, almost soothing even, about the pain underneath her cold porcelain fingers. Once done, she quietly walked around the bed to treat her other arm and shoulder, then very carefully lifted the blankets to the end of the bed with extra care to not let them rub on her skin, exposing the rest of Nyx's wounds.

She couldn't help but notice Apricity pause wistfully in view of the elaborately cut patterns and burn marks running up and down every part of her body, as if staring at a just-shattered vase. While it only lasted a brief moment, the apparent concern for her body was unfamiliar, and in contrast to Nyx's indifference.

She continued with the burns crossed over her chest and stomach, then inch by inch went down her hips all the way to hey ankles

"You're doing so good, are you still okay?" Apricity asked in a somewhat motherly tone.

"Mhm."

"Good, just one more spot, when you're ready."

Apricity waited for her nod before reaching out to brush her dark hair out of her face, Nyx wincing at the touch. She then lightly traced her forehead and brow back and forth until the salve was rubbed in, then gently massaged the marks on her cheeks.

"All done! You took it wonderfully."

Nyx's only response was a deep exhale.

"How are you feeling?" Apricity asked, a bit quieter.

".......Tired." She looked like she was ready to pass out.

"Good, you still need rest. Just close your eyes and relax while I wrap you back up."

The angel's voice drifted through her mind and stilled any wayward thoughts as she sank back into the mud.

#empty spaces #writing #dollposting #dolls #Apricity&Nyx

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mintaka14 · 2 years ago

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Chapter 8 of Living Arrangements (Lukanette And They Were Roommates! AU) is done. It's been a longer wait for it than I had anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it.

Living Arrangements

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter 8 – Music Again

There had been many moons before I met you

And I don’t know when (I last put paper to pen)

And now you give me back my raison d’etre

And I’m inspired again

[Music Again: Adam Lambert]

Luka flexed his hand against the frets of his guitar, stretching out his stiff fingers. He squinted down at the pages of manuscript and scribbled notes in front of him, and realised that the quality of light in the room had changed. The dark sky outside the windows had picked up a faint stain of rose and gold, lightening with the first hints of an autumn dawn.

As the creative rush wore off, Luka came back to an awareness of the room around him, and the way his back was aching from being hunched over his guitar for so long. He ran a hand through his hair and yawned hugely.

He leaned back, staring down at the scatter of pages all over the coffee table and the floor under it. They were thick with musical notation, and ideas for lyrics, that might develop into something, but one or two of them were… something good.

Luka could hear the alarm go off in Marinette’s bedroom, followed by a thump and the flustered noises that meant Marinette had just woken up. He couldn’t help smiling, even as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Carefully, he set his guitar aside, pulling himself to his feet, and another stray manuscript page fluttered from his lap to the floor as he shuffled towards the kitchen.

By the time Marinette had emerged, yawning and rumpled, the kettle had boiled and the coffee just finished brewing.

“Coffee, Melody?” he asked her, and the nickname rolled off his tongue without a thought. He grinned as she stuck out both hands to take the mug he offered her. The grin morphed into another yawn.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Marinette scolded. “Luka!”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “And what time did you turn out your light?” he teased her back. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one on a creative kick.”

She glanced at the living room, and the pages he’d left strewn everywhere. “You were writing?” she asked, in a softer voice, and he shrugged self-consciously.

“Just… tinkering with something. So what was keeping you up last night? Working on your finals?”

He looked up to find Marinette’s eyes on him, her mouth parted a little. She jolted a little as their eyes met, and abruptly dropped her gaze. Behind her coffee mug, Marinette flushed pink.

“No, just… something I’ve been tinkering with,” she echoed his words.

Her eyes drifted back to the piles of music manuscript, and Luka waited for her to ask the questions that he could see chasing themselves across her transparent features. Instead, Marinette turned back to her mug. She buried her face in the steam, and took another sip of coffee. Luka couldn’t help the soft little chuckle at her heartfelt sigh.

“Well, hopefully, it was a productive night for you, too,” he said. “Sounds like you need that coffee this morning.”

“Thank goodness I don’t have any classes today,” Marinette mumbled into her mug. “I’m not sure I could stay awake.”

“What are you doing up, then?”

“Meeting Alya for early lunch at Café Calibré. I have to do a few things on the way, though, so…” she waved at her pyjamas and messy hair, and wrinkled her nose. “At least I’m used to running on three hours’ sleep and caffeine.”

“Not sure that’s a good thing,” he told her, as she finished her coffee. Marinette stared down at the empty dregs, and Luka’s smile grew at the mournful little sound she made.

“Want another one?” he offered, but she shook her head, and moved past him to wash her mug in the sink.

“I wish I could, but I’d better get going. If I can make it as far as the café, I’ll get another one then. Alya owes me at least that much.”

“Good luck,” he said, and she must have heard the hint of dry humour that he couldn’t quite keep out of his voice at the mention of Alya, because she turned and flashed him a mischievous grin over her shoulder before her bedroom door closed behind her.

~~~~~

The moment Marinette closed her bedroom door, an assortment of kwamis emerged from whatever corners they’d been hiding in. Some of them paused in their antics to regard her curiously, but Marinette’s attention was riveted on the half-finished coat for Luka that she had stayed up to work on until way later than she should have.

She was happy with the way the cut of the coat hinted at presence without flash, and the way she’d hopefully managed to give it an easy style without sacrificing comfort. The embellishment was exactly the subtle depth with a fluid movement and a hint of humour that she’d been trying for, but she frowned at the embroidered snakes twining down the face of the coat. The whole design, she decided, was missing something. It needed something more intense, something like the heart of a blue flame…

“Marinette?” Tikki asked, drawing closer to hover beside her shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

“Luka’s… I think he’s writing music again,” she said absently, and Sass reared up from his nest near the window to eye her with interest.

… maybe those deep blue glass beads that she’d been saving for the right project, the ones that sparked like fire when the light caught them…

She could hear a soft little hiss of satisfaction from Sass, and one of the kwamis whispering, “But I don’t get it – he’s always playing music, isn’t he?”

“Luka is creating his own music again,” Tikki explained, and did a happy little spiral in mid-air. Creation always spoke to her, and a smile tugged at the corners of Marinette’s mouth in response, even as she subjected the coat to a measuring stare.

Her fingers twitched towards the jars of beads above her work table, but she curled them tightly against the impulse, and reached for her own clothes to change into instead. Luka’s coat could wait, but she needed to get moving if she wanted to run her errands and still make it to the café on time.

Dress and leggings went on quickly enough, but she gave up trying to get her hair to cooperate, and bundled it into two hasty pigtails, and then grabbed her handbag for Tikki to hide in.

“Be good,” she admonished the roomful of watching kwamis, without much hope that they would pay attention to her.

The living room was still covered in a snowfall of manuscript as she passed it, but there was no sign of Luka. His bedroom door was closed, though, and Marinette could only hope that he’d decided to get some sleep. The mug of coffee he’d made for her was definitely wearing off by the time she made it to the café where she and Alya usually met, and she spared a longing thought for her own bed as she pushed open the door.

She wasn’t late, but Alya was already waiting. Alya looked up impatiently from her phone as Marinette came into the cafe amid a flurry of jangling from the bell over the door.

“Girl, what’s been going on? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all week, and you didn’t even answer my texts,” she was saying before Marinette had even reached the table. “I wasn’t even sure you were going to turn up today.”

“I’ve been busy,” Marinette said, and leaned down to give her friend a quick hug, before she dropped into the seat opposite Alya. She’d started to answer Alya’s messages several times, and ended up overthinking every word until it had felt a little late to send anything at all. Here in person, though, Alya just swept past it all without a mention of their fight, and Marinette felt a little silly for putting off talking to her best friend. “Don’t you have finals coming up too?”

“That’s nearly two months away. There are much more important things to think about.” Alya leaned in, fixing Marinette with a triumphant eye. “Guess who called Nino last night?” she demanded.

“Oh my god, that producer he’s been trying to contact?”

Alya checked at that. “No, but this is almost as good. Adrien! And he’s coming back to Paris!”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Nice?” Alya stared at her as if she was waiting for something more, and then, when nothing was forthcoming, she said drily, “Yeah, it’ll be really nice to see him again. Nino’s planning to try and get everyone together for a sort of reunion or something.”

“That sounds good.”

Marinette was distracted when the waitress arrived with the coffee she desperately needed to stay awake. When she looked up, her friend was subjecting her to another speculative stare, but then the waitress slid the second cup and a plate of pastries in front of Alya.

“He asked about you,” Alya said, reaching for one of the croissants. She took a bite, and added casually, “So I gave him your phone number.”

Marinette almost spilled the coffee in her lap.

“Alya! You said you weren’t going to do that anymore.”

Alya raised an eyebrow at her over the remains of the pastry. “Do what?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“He’s an old school friend,” Alya said innocently, but the gleam in her eyes almost dared Marinette to contradict her. “I thought you said you’d been over him for years, so why would it be a big deal if he gets in touch with you?”

“Alya –“ Marinette groaned.

“It’s just catching up with an old school friend. Did you really want me to tell Adrien that you don’t want to see him, when he asked about you specifically?”

Marinette spent too long trying to process through the things she wanted to say, until eventually Alya leaned back with a smug smirk.

“Fine, then, just tell him you don’t want to meet up when he calls,” she said with a shrug.

In spite of Alya’s insistence, Marinette wasn’t seriously expecting Adrien to actually call her, and two days later when her phone rang with an unfamiliar number she answered it without thinking.

“Marinette?” an oddly familiar voice said, and Marinette nearly dropped the phone.

The voice was a little deeper than she remembered, and different, too, to the way it sounded in the media soundbites, but it sent her straight back to her flustered, awkward collège years.

“Adrien?” she squeaked, and tried to cover up the embarrassing sound with a cough. There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone call.

“It’s been too long,” the voice said. “How have you been?”

~~~~~

Luka could hear Marinette and his sister in the living room as he pulled off his headphones and shoved aside the thesis he’d been working on. He got to his feet and went to join them, desperate for a break, and maybe a chance to get down the melody that had been teasing at the back of his mind for the past fifteen minutes. It was hard to focus on papers and exam prep when several years’ worth of unwritten music was flooding through his mind all at once.

He came into the living room to find Marinette in the middle of getting ready to go out, and Juleka watching her from the depths of an armchair with a look of judgement on her face.

“It’s not like I could tell him I didn’t want to see him,” Marinette was saying defensively. “What would you have said if he’d called you and said he wanted to meet up?”

Juleka scrunched up her face like she wanted to argue the point, but couldn’t without being hypocritical. He could still remember his little sister hiding behind her curtain of hair, shying away from conflict, growing up. She’d gotten better at holding her own, but confrontation was never going to be easy for her.

Unless it was him. Juleka had no problem with telling her big brother to shove off, and Luka took that as the gift of trust that it was.

It occurred to him, as he watched the girls bicker while Marinette located her bag and her sketchbook, that Juleka was quite happy to argue with Marinette, too.

“And you’re wearing your lucky shirt,” Juleka pointed out accusingly.

Marinette glanced down self-consciously at the delicate pink top she was wearing. “I’m meant to be a fashion designer here. I’m not going to turn up for coffee with the son of one of Paris’ top fashion houses in just any old thing. This blouse got me into the summer designers program last year,” Marinette shot back, her colour heightened.

“I can see why. It’s gorgeous,” Luka said from where he was leaning against the doorframe, and Marinette’s head jerked up at the sound of his voice. “You’re incredibly talented.”

She bit her lip at the compliment, but a pleased and proud little smile teased at the corners of her mouth.

“Is this for a job interview?” he asked, wondering about her reference to a fashion house.

“Just an old school friend,” Marinette said, but Luka could see the flush deepen on the curve of her cheek as she turned away and grabbed her keys from the bowl.

Juleka gave an inelegant snort.

“I’ve got to get going, otherwise I’m going to be late,” Marinette said, dropping her keys into her bag.

“Yeah, you don’t want to be late for Adrien,” Juleka muttered under her breath, and Luka shot his sister a warning glance as he bent to scoop up his guitar from where he’d left it beside the couch.

“Have fun,” he said mildly, and Marinette threw him a grateful, slightly embarrassed smile. He waited until the front door closed behind her before he asked his sister, “What was all that about?”

“Adrien’s back,” Juleka said sourly, and slumped lower in the armchair, “and practically the first thing he does is call Marinette. I’d bet my favourite camera that Alya had something to do with that.”

“I thought Alya had backed off on the matchmaking schemes.”

“Alya doesn’t just give up – she changes tactics.” She tilted her head, obviously subjecting that to some consideration, then added, “Although I don’t think even Alya could bring Adrien Agreste back to Paris just to get Marinette a date, but she’d be more than capable of taking advantage of it once he was here.”

“This is the model you used to go to school with, that Marinette liked? He’s back in Paris?” Luka said slowly, as he tuned his guitar and let his fingers wander idly over the strings.

“She says they’re just catching up for a coffee,” Juleka said, her voice as dry as sand.

“Then that’s what she’s doing,” Luka said without looking up. He drifted into the melody that had been distracting him. The stark chords weren’t quite right, but modulated into a descending minor seventh… he tried it again, testing the feel of it.

Juleka eyed him. “You are such a dumbass.”

He could have pretended he didn’t know what she was talking about, but it felt like an argument he didn’t want to have. Instead, he focused on his fingering.

Juleka stayed in her armchair, listening to him for a while, and then said abruptly, “So, Dad’s been calling you again?”

Luka grimaced at her choice of subject change, but kept playing.

“He’s been trying to get me back into the studio. He’s got some new idea, and wants to get me involved.”

“Well, I wish you’d answer your messages, because he’s calling me now,” Juleka said sourly, and Luka sighed.

“I love Jay, I really do, but –“

“I know.”

“I’ll talk to Penny.”

“I don’t think Penny knows about this. I suspect she wouldn’t be too happy about it.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Does he know that you’re writing again?”

“No, and he’s not going to.”

He kept tinkering with the tune he was hearing in his head. There was another long, pointed silence from his sister until eventually, with a heavy sigh, she levered herself out of the armchair.

“Have fun wallowing,” she told him.

Luka ignored her until she’d disappeared up the stairs, and he frowned at the minor fifth he’d just played. He modulated it into a major, and tried again, but the upbeat key was jarring. It needed… damn.

Juleka was right.

~~~~~

When the sound of Rose’s video call chimed, Juleka was busy screaming into her pillow.

“Jules?” Rose’s voice was muffled by the padding over Juleka’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, and pulled the pillow down. “My brother’s just an idiot.”

Rose laughed and cast her eyes up. “Well, yes, but you love him anyway. What’s he done now?”

“He’s downstairs writing sad music because Marinette’s having coffee with Adrien Agreste, and I swear, if he tells me one more time he’s happy for her I’m going to –“ she broke off, unable to think of anything dire enough for the moment. The camera swooped at the other end of the call, and when Rose righted it again, her blue eyes were wide with barely suppressed reaction.

“Adrien’s back? Wait… did you say writing music?”

“Yes, and yes,” Juleka confirmed, slumping down in her desk chair. “My life is hell.”

“I… don’t even know where to start,” Rose squeaked, and Juleka heaved a put-upon sigh as her girlfriend vibrated on the spot. It almost looked like the screen was blurring, then the image steadied and Rose scooted closer, until her face filled the screen.

“Tell me everything,” she demanded.

#lukanette #pro lukamari #and they were roommates #living arrangements #ml au #they're idiots your honor

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midnight--ink · 1 year ago

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Holy shit hello paian nation it's been so long. I didn't mean to abandon this blog but unfortunately I've been super busy :')

I thought about sharing this before and I figured I might as well, this is the first little RD drabble I wrote forever ago that would eventually evolve into my Paian fic "like real people do." Some bits are the same and you can probably see how this eventually grew into the longer version. I found it in my drafts again and I still like it a lot so I decided to polish it up a bit, and I thought people on here might enjoy it :)

Ian sighed, typing out the last couple sentences of a report for Dr. Edega before collapsing back into his chair. He squinted at the bright monitor screen, reaching up to rub at his stinging eyes under his glasses. He'd been staring at his computer for entirely too long.

He stood from his chair, yawning and stretching out his back until he felt it pop. He glanced over at the stairs that led out of the basement and wondered absently if Ada's shift was over yet. He was supposed to have left at five PM himself, but there was still so much work that needed to be done and Edega had really been breathing down their necks lately.

He shoved several of the scattered papers on his desk into his shoulder bag and trudged up the stairs to the first floor, making his way down the hall to Ada's office. He raised his fist to rap his knuckles against the wood, before the door abruptly opened inwards and he found himself nose-to-nose with Ada. They narrowly avoided knocking their foreheads together, and he stumbled back a little as he tried to ignore the way his stomach fluttered. She blinked at him in surprise. Her coat sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and her brown curls were tied back in a loose ponytail.

"Ian?" Her mouth turned down in a worried frown. "I thought you went home. Isn't your shift over?"

"Oh. Y–Yeah. Sorry. Just...had to finish a report for Edega," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He checked his watch.

"The carer's with my mom until eight, so I still have some time."

Ada stared at him with a furrowed brow and big, brown, serious eyes. She sighed.

"Just...promise me you won't do this too often, okay? I'm worried that he's pushing you too hard."

Ian laughed softly.

"You're worried about me?" At Ada's stern look, he acquiesced. "Okay, okay, I promise."

"Good," she said, finally allowing herself to smile a little. Ian took note of the dark rings under her eyes, the coffee stain on her coat, the way several locks of brown hair were escaping her messy ponytail. She returned to her desk and started organizing the myriad papers that were strewn over it. He followed her inside and hovered awkwardly by the door. Ada looked up.

"Oh—did you need something?"

Ian froze, heat rushing to his cheeks. He looked at his feet and rubbed a hand up and down his arm.

"Oh. Uh...no, I guess not. Just—just wanted to say hi."

She gave him a small, bemused grin.

"Hi."

He watched her shuffle some more papers around on her desk, humming under her breath as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear. Eight years was a long time to get to know someone, and he had spent those years memorizing all of Ada's traits and quirks and idiosyncrasies. He knew how much milk and sugar she liked in her coffee, the way she snorted when she laughed, which movies always made her cry. He knew all of her worst insecurities and how she covered them up with a smile. He knew how, whenever possible, she would take a few extra minutes to chat with the patients or reassure their nervous loved ones before an operation.

She grabbed a stack of loose patient reports and tapped them against the desk to straighten them. She looked so tired.

Wordlessly, he opened his arms for a hug, and it was only a moment before she dropped the papers and tackled him like a linebacker. He wheezed a little at the force of it but wrapped his arms around her just as tightly, and she leaned into him. They began to sway unconsciously back and forth, holding each other, and he could feel her smiling into his neck.

"What are we doing?" she asked, giggling deliriously. "Dancing?"

He was giggling, too. "I—I don't know. I'm so tired."

Ada snorted, and Ian's heart did a stupid fluttery thing that hopefully wasn't an arrhythmia.

"God. What a pair we are."

Ian took a moment to be thankful that she couldn't see his face just then, because he knew that he must be grinning like an idiot.

"I think my shift just ended, too, by the way," Ada mumbled into his shoulder with a yawn. "Intern's taking the night shift."

He huffed out a laugh, resting his cheek on top of her head.

"What would we do without the intern?"

Ada hummed appreciatively.

"They're a saint."

Ian closed his eyes and buried his face in her soft hair, letting himself feel her heart beating in tandem with his. After a long moment, Ada heaved another sigh and began to pull away. Ian immediately missed the warmth.

"Okay, I should probably head home. Gotta go scrounge up something for dinner."

An idea struck him. Ian willed his voice to sound casual, unsuccessfully. He tried to lean back against Ada's desk and almost slipped.

"Hey. Um. S–Since we're both off, do you wanna...come back to my place for dinner? I'm gonna be cooking for my mom anyway, and she—she always enjoys your company."

Ada blinked up at him. "Oh, are you sure? I—yeah. That would be nice."

"Okay! Cool!" He winced as his voice audibly cracked, but Ada only smiled before she bent down to grab her bag from under the desk.

"Cool. I can help you cook," she said over her shoulder.

"Uh...that's okay. I'll—I'll cook."

Ada popped up from behind the desk to glare at him in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over her chest.

"You wound me. C'mon, I'm not that bad."

A grin stretched its way across Ian's face.

"Remember that time in college you nearly burnt down our apartment making a quesadilla?"

Ada held up a finger as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"That was...once," she muttered. Ian laughed as she circled around the desk to join him.

"Our—our neighbors called the fire department," he added, chuckling at the memory. She rolled her eyes and bumped her hip against his with a smirk. A swarm of butterflies fluttered like a whirlwind in his chest cavity.

"Geez," she responded wryly. "You set one quesadilla on fire and nobody ever lets you forget it."

She was smiling at him now, all gentle and fond, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Ian found himself staring at the light smattering of freckles on her nose that were only visible up close. He could feel his face steadily growing warmer. He stepped forward and held the door open for her so he wouldn't have to keep making eye contact. As she passed, however, she casually snagged his hand in hers, pulling him out into the brightly lit hallway. Ian startled and stumbled after her, his stomach turning somersaults. He glanced around frantically to make sure Edega wasn't lurking around any corners.

"Okay. Let's blow this pop stand," Ada said nonchalantly.

"I—I don't think...I don't think anyone says that anymore," Ian mumbled vacantly. He stared down at their intertwined hands, uncomprehending. Another smile tugged at the corners of Ada's mouth. She laced their fingers together and brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, sending a feeling like an electric shock all the way up his arm and through his chest, straight to the heart.

"Well, I say it."

She tugged him down the hallway in the direction of the front lobby, her hand warm in his. Ian let himself be pulled along in confusion as his insides twisted themselves into knots. They emerged together into the brisk purple dusk outside, where the light was starting to fade over the tops of the buildings.

Ian was trying his best to remember to breathe, drawing air in and letting it out like a normal person would do. Dozens of clamoring thoughts raced through his head, the most prominent of which, flashing in his brain like a neon sign, was WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?! Ada was still smiling placidly, though he could swear there was a hint of pink blooming in her cheeks.

She glanced back at him, her face framed by the soft glow of twilight. He took one deep breath, and then another. It didn't help; he still felt a little bit like he was drowning. She chuckled, though not unkindly, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, which was admittedly what he thought every time she laughed.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," was all he managed to get out. Ada bit her lip against a wide grin and squeezed his hand, sending a honey-sweet warmth flooding through him that was stronger than the evening chill.

If this was drowning, then maybe he didn't mind.

#rhythm doctor #ada paige #ian rhythm doctor #paian #hello RD fandom. i offer this as an apology for dropping off the face of the earth for a while lmao #i love writing ian he's so funny. his autistic swag #also ada my beloved. she has bags under her eyes and a coffee stain on her coat. she's the perfect woman #i missed these losers #i hope you enjoyed!! this is essentially just the shorter original version of like real people do but i still think it's cute #unfortunately life is still dragging me back by the ankles but i would love to write more RD fic soon. paian specifically bc i love them #okay letting the void swallow me again gn

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tasty-arsenic · 2 years ago

Text

I wrote a fanfic based off the first game of Cleos Blood on the Clocktower because im obsessed

Im using only the information available from Cleos POV so not everything will be here.

Please mind any typos

you could also read it on Ao3 here

CW: death, blood, graphic descriptions of violence

words: 2,619

It was a sunny morning in town, the sun was shining brightly over the horizon and crows were chirping louder then ever before. So loud in fact that it drew the attention of three townsfolk; Xisuma, Gem, and Cub.

The trio of investigators noticed the birds fighting over something red and jam like by the clocktower. Gem pushed forward to see what it could possibly be. She noticed long ginger locks attached to a a pale face. She looked in horror at the mangled body of the village storyteller, Cleo.

Gem screamed at the discovery while Xisuma and Cub stood quiet in horror.

Gems screams brought the attention of the townsfolk and they all gathered by the clocktower.

When everyone was assembled Gem was on the ground crying as Xisuma did his best to calm her, Cub was freeing Cleos body of crows.

“Is that… Cleo?” Ren asked meekly.

Cub moved away from the corpse. “It is,” He paused before continuing. “I believe they have been murdered,”

“Do you think it could’ve been a demon?” Iskall asked. Travellers had brought tails of demons from hell coming up to the human world disguised as a regular people, only to devour innocents during the night.

Xb took a closer look at Cleos body. “It looks like she had been eaten by something very big, and very hungry. So unless a bear got into town I think its safe to say that it was a demon.”

“Are you suggesting that one if us killed them?” Impulse asked.

“It would check out,” Hypno said. “None of us had lived here very long so one if us very well might’ve been a demon from the very start.”

Ren stepped back from the crowd. “I dont like the sound of that,”

“What now?” Cub asked.

“Well we can’t have the demon going around and killing us all!” Impulse exclaimed. “This is our home and we need to defend it!”

“What are you suggesting?” Xb asked.

“During the day we talk to each other and gather as much information as possible, then when evening comes we share the information and based on that we vote someone to be executed,”

“E-Executed?!” Gem exclaimed through a shaky voice.

“We’ll never get rid of the demon otherwise.” Impulse states.

“I think he has the right idea,” Cub said. “Its the only way for anyone to survive this.”

“So we’re just going to kill each other?” Xisuma asked.

“the demon will kill all of us if we dont do anything,” Hypno said. “I think this is the best course of action.”

“And remember that we all have our own abilities,” Iskall reminds. “We can use those to snuff out this dirty imp”

“Cleo did say to use them if something like this happened.” Gem said, dejected.

“We should do this. For her and for everyone here.” Cub announced.

Ren sighed. “You’re right and i dont like it.”

“Lets talk among each other today but not vote. We dont need two deaths in one day,” Hypno said.

“That sounds good,” Xb agreed.

“I guess we scatter,” Ren said before the group split up across the town.

It was almost evening when the townspeople heard a unfamiliar voice calling out in the distance.

“Howdy!” The stranger called out the the people.

“And who might you be?” Xb asked as he gathered around the stranger.

“The names Joe Hills! Im here to visit my good friend Cleo!”

The growing crowd of people grew silent.

“We have a demon problem,” Impulse said, breaking the silence. “They were killed just tonight.”

“Sorry to break the news like this.” Ren said. “We’re trying to find who the demon is and kill them. Its best you leave.”

“A demon you say?” Joe paused, in thought. “I may not be able to stay for long but i want to do what i can to find this demon,”

“Are you sure?” Hypno asked the traveller.

“Of course,” he nodded. “Anything to avenge Cleo.”

“You can stay in her house then,” Gem said. “I’m sure they wont mind.”

“Perfect,” Joe said. “Since you all know that im not the demon ill be transparent as possible and tell you all my ability.”

“Oh, really?” Hypno asked.

Joe nodded. “Im a thief, i can steal votes.”

“A thief…” Gem whispered to herself, deep in thought.

Cub looked at the moon rising in the distance. “Its best we all go to bed, the demon might strike soon.”

The townsfolk all agreed and dispersed into their individual homes.

Hypno woke up in the middle of the night to his own alarm. His job as the empath would be very useful for the townsfolk and he could not rest.

He set up everything needed for the ritual, he double checked everything was in place and not to mess up. If one of his neighbours was evil it would be suicide to mess this up.

Before the ritual Hypno decided to get a drink the calm his nerves. He noted that the drink tasted different then usual but paid no mind to it.

He sat in position and started his chant, by the end of it a voice called out in his head, “two.”

Hypno chuckled, this was interesting.

Morning came and everything was as it was the day before, the birds were satisfied with their meal yesterday and the sun was shining brightly as ever.

The towns folk, however, werent as chipper as usual. Anxiety and dread filled them all as they left their houses and met up at town square.

Everyone looked around and noticed that everyone was accounted for, no one was missing.

“Did the demon.. spare us?” Gem asked the group.

“Probably just the night,” Joe stated. “Demons dont need to eat every day.”

“But they’ll probably continue their rampage tomorrow,” Xb said.

“Correct,” Joe agreed.

“So we have today to talk to everyone before people start dying,” Gem said. “We need to use this time well.”

“Shes right.” Hypno said. “Lets form groups and talk.”

the towns people scattered around the village and naturally formed groups.

Over by the burger place Iskall, Impulse, and Xb were chatting.

"So do we talk about what are roles are?" Iskall asked the group.

"Its probably not completely safe right now but it might be safe to drop hints." Impulse answered.

"Well i can tell you that im definitely not the imp." Xb told the group.

"thats just plain ol' suspicious, Xb." Impulse replied.

"Well im not the imp, i dont have it in my name!" Iskall declared. "Right, IMPulse?"

"Wha, hey! thats just ridiculous." Impulse said. "imagine the chances of that."

"im getting kind of hungry." Xb said, changing the conversation.

"why dont i make us some burgers and we can talk about our roles a bit?" Impulse suggested.

"works for me." Iskall said, sitting down.

Impulse went into the building and started heating the grill.

"So how much should we say about our abilities?" Xb asked.

"Maybe just some hints." Impulse suggested.

"well ill say one thing." Iskall started. "I shall publicly chose someone."

"you'll publicly chose someone, huh?" Impulse said.

Iskall hummed.

Over at the Laundry House Gem, Hypno, and Xisuma were sat on the ground, discussing.

"I dont really understand whats happening," Xisuma admitted to the group.

"I guess its just something that'll become more clear as time goes on," Gem told him.

"I hope so."

"I wanna go chat with other people so i'll be off now." Gem announced before leaving.

The laundry house was silent for moments after.

"If im being honest," Hypno started. "im not sure what information i should be telling people."

"Yeah," Xisuma agrees. "Say the wrong thing to the wrong person and its all over."

"stressful, huh?" Hypno dryly chuckled. "I could have great information, i could have no information, you could have good information, who knows?"

"You never know."

Over again at the burger place the group has changed and now Cub, Xb, and Xisuma were talking.

"So what will happen when someone gets voted out?" Xisuma asked.

"They'll die." Cub answered plainly.

"Yes but how?"

"Theres an old guillotine in the clocktower," Xb told the group. "Im sure that can work."

"there is?" Cub said, surprised.

"Mhm, i saw it once a few months back, around the time Impulse joined the village." Xb paused. "The blade was still sharp."

"Well thats convenient innit?" Xisuma said.

"Very," Xb agreed.

Cub paused for a moment after. "When someone is executed then the undertaker would get to find out their role right?"

"Yes I will." Xb quickly responded.

Joe was wandering around the town. He felt as if he had a slight disadvantage here as he didn't know everyone as well, so he made it his mission to talk to as many people as possible. When he saw Impulse and Cub talking to each other he made his way over the join the conversation.

Impulse seemed to be in the middle of his conversation with Cub as Joe got in hearing distance of the two. "-yor and you're the mo-"

"Howdy!" He called out.

The duo jumped at his arrival but quickly calmed themselves. Cub patted for Joe to sit beside him.

"I was thinking of making some burgers for some people, you want any?" Impulse asked Joe.

"Oh you are?" He said. "In that case id love some!"

"Perfect, i made some for myself, Xb, and Iskall earlier then felt bad that no one else got any."

"Burger time!" Joe exclaimed.

"Burger time!" Cub cheered back.

As the clock reached seven the bell rang across the village, notifying everyone that there time to chat was over. Over the next few minutes the townspeople assembled at the town square.

In the seat directly in front of the clocktower the people noticed the ghastly figure of Cleo standing there.

"Cleo?" Gem exclaimed "Is that you?"

Cleos ghost did nothing.

"why isnt she sayin anything?" Xisuma asked.

Before anyone could answer Cleos ghost spoke up. "Nominations are open."

"Its seems they're policing the trial." Joe stated.

"Thats a bit cruel isnt it?" Gem said.

"Yeah," Ren agreed.

"well we should get started right?" Hypno said.

"We should," Ren said. "And i have some information."

"Go on," Iskall said to Ren.

"Okay, first of all Xisuma refused to reveal any information the whole time. Even during our very intimate moment in the jacuzzi."

"That was a laundry-"

"Yeah it was very intimate." Gem agreed "He joined us randomly and didnt say much so it was very weird."

"yeah it was." Ren said. "Anyways. Number two is that Gem shared very suspicious information that im not going to share at this time. Thats all"

"Way to make me look suspicious." Gem sighed. "Anyways ive been doing some deducting and trying to figure out what everybody's roles are, and someone is lying."

"You dont say." Impulse laughed.

"No, i mean that theres two people claiming to be the same role!" Gem clarified.

noise gathered in the crowd.

"thats all for now." Gem ended.

"I would like to say that in all the groups i was in everyone was quite talkative, except Xb." Iskall stated. "He was very quiet."

"Second call for nominations." Cleo announced to the crowd.

Iskall thought for a second before declaring. "I nominate Xb!"

"Iskall has nominated Xb to be executed." Cleo said. "please take your positions."

Iskall and Xb moved towards two desks that seemed to have found their way in front of the clocktower.

Iskall cleared his throat. "I was walking around town all day, i spoke in many groups with as many people as possible." He started. "Xb here kept quiet in three different occasions,"

The townsfolk took a few moments to think.

"Xb, whats your defense?" Cleos almost robotic voice asked.

"I just think that if someones being shady something that they might do is throw that shade to someone else." Xb said.

the townspeople briefly spoke among themselves, deciding that it was a decent rebuttal.

"Voting starts now." Cleo told the people. "When i look at you your vote will be decided then, and no time after."

She looked at Xb. "turn on your light to vote for Xb to be executed." Cleo gave the group a few moment to vote before continuing.

her gaze moved to Gem, whos light was on. "one."

then she looked at Impulse, whos light was on. "two"

next was Iskall, whos light was on. "three"

she moved on to Joe, whos light was on. "four."

after was Ren, whos light was off.

then was Cub, whos light was on. "five"

next was Hypno, whos light was off.

lastly it was Xisuma, whos light was off.

"thats five votes for Xb to be executed, that is enough. Xb is on the block." cleo told the group. "nominations are still open."

The town went silent.

"theres more?" Ren said.

"I guess if we nominate someone else and they get more votes then Xb theyll get executed instead." Joe thought for a moment. "what if theres a tie?"

"in the situation of a tie no one will be executed." Cleo quickly answers.

"Well has anyone else been suspicious?" Ren asked the group.

the group went silent.

"final call for nominations."

nobody spoke up.

"five"

"four"

"three"

"two"

"on-"

"I would like to nominate Iskall!" Xb declared.

"Xb has nominated Iskall to be executed." Cleo said. "please take your positions."

Iskall and Xb once again found themselves heading toward the two desks in front of the clocktower, only this time in switched positions.

"The reason i believe Iskall to be guilty is because he is so quick to throw the blame on someone else. its very suspicious." Xb stated.

"Iskall, whats your defense?"

"During the day i was very open about who i am and my role, Xb was not." Iskall said. "if we're looking for someone suspicious then we have our guy."

"Voting starts now."

The townsfolk shifted in their seats, preparing for the vote.

She looked at Iskall. "turn on your light to vote for Iskall to be executed."

A few moments passed before the counting started again.

She turned to Joe, whos light was off.

She looked at Ren, whos light was off.

next was Cub, Whos light was off.

then it was Hypno, whos light was off.

after that she looked at Xisuma, whos light was off.

they then looked at Xb, whos light was on. "Negative one."

then was Gem, whos light was off.

last was Impulse whos light was off.

"thats negative one votes for Iskall to be executed, that is not enough. Xb is still on the block." cleo told the group. "nominations are still open."

"five"

"four"

"three"

"two"

"one"

"Xb is to be executed."

"so uh, hows that happening?" Gem asked.

"theres a guillotine in the clocktower." Cub answered.

"why?" Ren asks.

"Dunno, but itll do." Cub answers.

"i regret telling you about that," Xb chuckles nervously.

"Someone come help me bring it out." Cub called out. Impulse and Hypno answered his call and helped out.

"Okay, Xb." Cub gestured to the guillotine. "get in."

"I am really starting to regret telling you about that."

Xb climbed into the guillotine, shaking in fear.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Xb pleaded to the crowd. "im an innocent man i swear!"

"Xb is to be executed." Cleos voice sounded through the air as the guillotine activated on its own.

everyone gasped in horror as Xbs head was swiftly cut off, the blood splattering all over the floor.

"the day is over, goodnight." Cleos voice told the crowd. No one dared to argue so everyone made their way back to their homes.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitcraft season 9 #time to tag everyone #sigh #zombie cleo #geminitay #rendog #xisumavoid #cubfan135 #hypnotizd #impulsesv #iskall85 #joe hills #xbcrafted

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conretewings · 1 year ago

Text

The Spaces In Between

-A collection of short pieces primarily featuring interactions of my oc Rosemary and Vander, interwoven within the canon of the show, basically adding 'extra scenes'. Mild nsfw. Cw: death and descriptions of blood and injuries.

'Detour'

-Keeping his head down in a cocktail of shame, irritation and attempting to be inconspicuous, Claggor trailed dutifully behind Vander, the crowded, filthy, noisy streets buzzing with activity all around them. The hefty, clanking bag he had swung over one shoulder however, the bag that was becoming heavier by the minute, made that last part virtually impossible.

As the pair threaded their way through the chaos Claggor had the time, unfortunately, to sourly and with increasing worry muse over the predicament he and his siblings had found themselves in. Get in, grab what they could, and leave, no one the wiser; that had been the plan anyway. Now with half a building in rubble and the Enforcers on their tails, not to mention their dad absolutely furious, it was truly sinking in just how royally they had fucked up.

So absorbed was he in these thoughts it took him a minute to register they had turned down a side street that wasn't the way to Benzo's and wondered aloud, "Um...I thought you said..."

"We're takin' a detour." Vander said shortly, his tone making Claggor shut up again. Quickly the boy realized where they were headed, and felt his spirits rise, if only a fraction.

Approaching a building in slightly less disrepair then many of the others around it with a neatly welded sign that read 'Wares and Repairs', they pushed open the heavy door and were immediately greeted by both a chiming bell and the disorderly yet oddly welcoming mess of the shop.

Long rows of shelves were crammed with loose parts, organized by color and use, tables were covered with items for sale 'as is', and the huge counter that wrapped half way around the room was piled with papers and half-done smaller projects. Claggor inhaled deeply, always enjoying his visits here. Almost immediately a slim, middle-aged man with graying chestnut hair and a sly twinkle in his honey-brown eyes limped into view from around a corner, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Hello there! Wares and Repairs you break it we can probably fix it!"

The corner of Vander's mouth twitched upward, "'Ello Virgil. Ya know ya don't have to give us the speech every time."

Shrugging Virgil replied, "Branding, my friend. It's important," with a wince he shifted his weight then jerked a thumb toward a wide doorway in the back wall through which could be seen larger items and more tools, a knowing smirk on his face, "She's working on a steam pump engine. Go on," he then nodded at Claggor, "Ahoy there son. Helping your old man I see."

Claggor only stared at his boots with a vauge mumble of "Yeah..."

Saying thanks and promising to swing by again when he could, Vander motioned sharply for Claggor to follow, which he immediately did. The pair entered into a larger open garage-like space, a couple vehicles sitting in various states of repair and several worktables and toolboxes scattered about. A loud clanking and strings of curses could be heard from the opposite side of one of these tables upon which sat a clunky, rusting engine. A wrench flew to the side with another colorful expletive and Vander couldn't completely hide the bemused smile threatening to form.

"That thing givin' ya trouble Rosie?"

Instantly a woman popped into view, pushing her goggles up into her already messy chocolate-brown hair. Her hazel eyes alighted with joyful, if not a touch mischievous, sparkle and she stepped around the table, removing her gloves and slapping as much dirt and grease from her person as was feasible before coming up to pull Claggor into a hug, a gesture he gratefully welcomed-as well as a break from carrying the bag. Melting into her comfortably warm, firm embrace and catching that familiar smell of something floral mixed with metallic grease he felt some of the anxiety seep away.

"Hey Rosemary." he said, the sound muffled by his face being buried in her shoulder. Stepping back, she planted her hands on her hips, blowing a stray piece of hair from her face.

"Hello gentlemen. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Catching Vander's eye she gave a quick wink. The anger somewhat dulled, his brow rose a measure and he gave her a brief, knowing smile.

Claggor rolled his eyes clear to the rafters; he was not in the mood to deal with their insufferable flirting on top of everything else that day. Despite their thinking they were subtle, they were not.

Composing himself, Vander cleared his throat and lowered his voice.

"Assume you've heard?"

"About the hullabaloo up top, yeah," Rosemary dropped her tone as well, crossing her arms to lean against the table, "Been busy as all, but was out fetchin' a part when I heard some folks talkin'. Right mess ain't it? Stupid bastards, gonna bring the can-heads right to our doors. Can't see how some soggy brats managed to..."

Seeing Vander's expression cloud, her eyes wandered to Claggor, looking more and more miserably guilty and she hissed, "Bloody hell Clag! I'm sorry I-it was you lot?!"

"We tried to sneak in and out without anyone knowing but..." the boy swallowed loudly, "I'm not even sure what happened-it was all so fast like, one minute we were making a break for it then something blew up and..." he trailed off, at a loss for further explanation.

Quickly and in a harsh tone Vander turned to Rosemary and all but growled, "No one else learns of this, understand? Already hearing way too much chatter," he steadied himself and added, much softer, "Please."

"Of course..." she replied, fierce yet composed, "Not a word. No one 'n nothin's gonna harm these kids so long as I'm around."

In spite of the dire situation, Vander felt the familiar heat bloom in his heart at the fiery, almost motherly protectiveness in her expression. She loved his adopted pack of wayward pups almost as much as him, and for it, as well as many other things, he loved her. He ought to do something to properly thank her for all she'd done for them lately, he thought, hopefully soon.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and continued, "I know, and I, we, thank ya. Would love to stay a bit, but we got other business to attend to."

Reluctantly Claggor hoisted his burden again and bid Rosemary a weary 'see ya'. He turned, starting to leave with Vander right behind, but the older man paused to turn back and clicked his fingers, "Ah, right-Rosie, swing by the Drop later; I got a tap that's actin' up."

"And what, ya can't fix it yourself?!" she scoffed, wagging a screwdriver at him, "What I get eh? I haven't forgotten ya still owe me for that last job!"

"You really turnin' down oh I dunno, free booze?" his mood lifted a bit by her presence he added with a dollop of his trademark charm, "And my company?"

She paused, her lower lip stuck out, "Oooh, you smooth bastard. Fine. I suppose I can bail you out again."

"Thanks Rosie. Patch 'er up and your drinks are on me."

A sly grin tugged at her mouth as she sashayed up to him, "On you, huh? Is that all?" She added in a low voice.

This time he hummed low in his throat, unable to mask his own smirk, "Let's see how well you fix it first."

Returning her earlier wink he spun on his heel and strode off, Rosemary's echoing laugh of 'challenge accepted!' trailing behind.

'Promise'

A warm breeze slithered past the window Vander gazed out, barely making a dent in the stuffy room as he watched over the late night goings-on in the streets below; his streets, the people's streets, the twisting darkened paths that made up their little carved out slice of home, filthy and hardscrabble as it were.

The same ones that were now threatened by the grandiose and ill-timed exploits of his own progeny.

He leaned on the frame, exhaling a cloud of sharp, bitter smoke, the embers of his pipe glowing brightly in the dark room, contemplating as he'd been all day and night what the blasted hell he was going to do to fix it.

A soft groan, sweet and annoyed all at once, cut through his thoughts, "Vander, come back to bed..."

He grinned, looking over his shoulder at the hand raised in a beckoning gesture. Turning he stepped across the small room and placed his pipe on a crooked nightstand before sinking onto the creaking old mattress.

"Miss me Rosie?"

Rosemary mumbled under her breath, sounding suspiciously like 'handsome asshole' before snuggling up to him.

His arm came up to wind around her, holding her close as his thumb rubbed absent-minded circles on her shoulder. They lay in comfortable silence for a time, absorbed in thought and the calming afterglow that still lingered, the squeak of the mattress if they shifted and the distant, muffled busying of the city the only sounds.

She trailed her fingers across his broad chest, tracing some of the faded scars and remembering the tales behind them. At length she murmured with a grin, "Well. Seems I fixed it pretty good."

She felt more so than heard his deep, rumbling chuckle, "Ya did alright."

Falling quiet again, Rosemary soon craned her neck to look up at him. His expression was distant, pensive, and she reached to rest her hand on his jawline.

"You good, Van?"

He groaned, rubbing his face, "Sorry, mind wandering...just thinkin' 'bout what to do, if there's anythin' I can do...ya know, with this whole mess."

Pushing herself up, she half crawled onto him so she was resting her folded arms on his chest and letting her legs drape lazily between his. He chuckled again, wrapping an arm across her back before his smile faded and he stared into nothing. Tilting her head, she gave him her best reassuring grin, though she too felt the worry eating at her mind.

"We'll work somethin' out. Actually..." she bit her lip, "Much as I don't care for you 'n Grayson's little tête-à-tête, I have to admit she's a level-headed, reasonable woman. I'm sure if ya talk to her-"

"Ah, yes we talked." Vander replied sullenly.

"...Oh." her gaze slid away, his face telling her all she needed to know on how it had gone.

"The topsiders need to feel safe, I'm told," he grumbled, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm, the irony lost to neither of them, "They need to find the responsible party to set things right," exhaling in a growl he continued, "So now my options are, throw my kids to the wolves, find some poor bastards to be a scapegoat, or let 'em tear our homes apart..." he draped a forearm over his eyes, "...I...I'm not sure what I can do, Rosie. And that's a feelin' I'm not keen on."

There was a brief pause before Rosemary scoffed, "Listen to ya. Me, me, me, I, I, I. Honestly. Sometimes ya don't get it, do ya?"

Vander moved his arm enough to gaze at her incredulously, "Come again love?"

"You always think ya have to shoulder every burden yourself, that ya have to carry all the weight alone," her head tilted and she soflty added, "You...know there's people who can and would help, right?"

"Yeah, I'm aware..." his expression darkened and he moved to sit up, Rosemary sliding off to let him.

Grabbing his pipe again and re-lighting it, he gazed off in morose contemplation. Rosemary awaited in equal quiet, being familiar with this and the man enough to know he he'd continue once he'd gathered his thoughts. After a measure he indeed replied in a somber tone, "...I also know the last time I brought others into it, when I relied on 'em to carry that weight, lot of folks died."

Her stomach and heart sank, knowing full well to what he was referring.

"You'll always blame yourself, and I can't heal those wounds. But this situation, this time Van please-" she sat up as well, leaning against his shoulder, fighting the crack in her voice, "...Let someone, let me help...you know I'd do anything for ya."

He didn't respond for a couple minutes, just letting the wisps of smoke curl and vanish into the air, adding another scent to the air already laced with musk and the bourbon they'd enjoyed. The empty bottle had gotten knocked onto the floor at some point and Vander poked it absently with a toe, not giving a damn that they were both still quite naked.

Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he studied her patient, vaguely anxious expression, the crows feet she hated but he would kiss and tell her she was no less beautiful for in the same way she told him his graying hair made him no less handsome, crinkled with her faint frown. She loved him deeply, loved the kids like her own family, and would be more than happy to take a swing at hell itself with her largest wrench for them...

Heaving a sigh, he turned his head enough to meet her gaze, "That's the problem, Rosie. Ya would."

"What's that mean?" she huffed.

"Means you'd even be willin' to do somethin' reckless, or that could put ya in a bad spot," he snuffed out the pipe, "And that's exactly why I can't let ya get too involved. These are my kids and my problem. If there's somethin' you can do I'll be sure to let ya know."

Pulling away and turning to face him more, she crossed her arms, "Have I not helped patch 'em up? Dried their tears? Helped put 'em to bed? Tried to guide 'em? Scolded 'em for bein' lil' shits?...At this point they're practically my kids too."

Vander cracked a small, wistful smile, "True, ya got me there..." his expression clouded, "So, if... things go south, I need someone I can trust, that they trust, to be there for 'em."

Rosemary felt a cold punch to her gut with the implication and she reached to squeeze his hand, "Van don't talk like that..."

"I have to be prepared for every scenario...includin' the worst," he squeezed her hand in return, "I've...lost so much. So have they. Can't risk losing you too."

He was right, and she hated it. This wasn't a normal situation; major damage had happened, injuires were had, and top-side was out for blood. As much as she hated to even entertain the possibility, she knew this whole situation may well turn very ugly, very quickly.

Drawing a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts, Rosemary used one hand to turn his face toward hers, her features set in a determined line, "Fine. Then if all you'll let me do for now is this; I'll stay safe. And I swear, whatever happens, as long as I'm able, I will do whatever I can for you and those kids."

He gazed back at her in silence again, his steel-blue eyes unreadable and for a moment she thought she'd said something wrong-until he cupped the sides of her face in his large hands, capturing her mouth with his own in a first tender, then swiftly much more passionate pace, both falling back again into the bed together and lost to the rest of the world...

'QUESTION'

Something was terribly wrong.

Rosemary couldn't put a finger on it, but she'd felt a queasy, off-putting ache in her gut all day, like something somewhere was horribly amiss. In all honesty things really were amiss; between the whole hullabaloo with topside and their ramped up-and increasingly aggressive-presence in the Undercity, not to mention the growing undercurrent of general unease in recent weeks, she had every right to feel off.

But some instinct deep in her bones told her this was different.

Despite her best efforts she couldn't concentrate on her repair work, even slipping and scraping her arm with a tool, and after she was done yelling and cursing, patched herself up and tried to get back to work. She was leaning on a table and lost in thought again when she heard the distinctive beat of her brother's footsteps and scrape of his cane approach. One large hand landed gently on her shoulder.

"Birdie, what's eatin' at ya?" he wondered, with that slight cock of his head that indicated he had an inkling, but was giving her the choice to elaborate.

Turning, she let out the tense breath she'd been holding in and lightly flopped her forehead onto his collarbone, "I...got a real, real bad feelin' about today, Virgil. Like there's a storm brewin', but one that's gonna fuck things up somethin' awful and I'm...worried about..."

"Go find 'im."

Rosemary chuffed out a dry laugh, "That obvious yeah?"

"I'll hold down the fort." was his reply, with a sly grin that normally would have elicited a comeback-were it not for how she could see the unease in his own eyes.

-Rosemary picked her way through the damp streets, weaving in and out of crowds and side alleys, that anxiety rising with every step, eating at her thoughts and spurring her ever quicker until she was practically running. She hurried on, rounding a corner near her destination-then skidded to an abrupt halt when he appeared, rushing in the opposite direction past her.

"Vander!!" she shouted, and they whirled to face each other.

Immediately she knew she had been right; his breathing was rapid, eyes wide and frightened, his whole body tense as a wire. She darted to him, instinctively jumping into business mode, "What's going on?"

"Vi is-she's in trouble and I gotta get to her before she can do something stupid."

"What?! What happened?" Rosemary felt her stomach drop.

"If I'm right, and I know that girl, she's tryin' to fix things by turnin' herself in-tryin' to make amends to save everyone but I-I can't let her-"

"I'm going with you, c'mon let's-"

"No wait-" he grabbed her arm to stop her darting off, then steadied himself, drawing a deep, rapid breath then placed a hand on her face, "You wanted to help? Here's your chance."

She closed her hand over his, lacing her fingers around his, "What do you need?"

"Gather a bunch of folks together, you know who'd be best, and meet us over at Benzo's. Come prepared for a fight. Come prepared for...anything. I've got a really bad gut feelin' about today."

Her heart leapt. So he also had been noticing it. This was a bad omen, one that only reignited the rippling current of unease coursing through her. But right now she had to focus.

"I'm on it."

"Thank you. I...see ya soon"

He turned, starting to leave...and time seemed to slow. Her hand went to her pocket, to the small pouch she often carried, the one that contained two shiny silver rings she'd made herself-and she felt such a panicked stab, this time it was her that lunged to snatch his wrist and cried out, "Vander I-I don't-"

They froze, gazing at each other, both at a loss to articulate what exactly they were feeling; an oncoming dread, a pervasive, creeping intuition. Neither could bring themselves to say it, but both felt the same ominious cloud closing in, threatening to choke them as much as the noxious fumes from the mines.

Things were going to change today.

At such an impass the only thing they could think of, the only thing that made any sort of sense was not words, but action.

As one they roughly pulled each other in, lips crashing together, hands and arms tangled such that they were, as much as possible and for one more glorious moment, a single entity. They desperately inhaled one another's scent, their taste, the feel of their skin and hair, their sighs and soft moans, imprinting them to memory.

They broke away, foreheads pressed together, and Vander clutched her to himself, knowing he had to let go but drawing strength from her embrace, strength he feared he'd need, "Be careful..."

"You too..." tears threatening to form, heart breaking Rosemary shoved him away, breath ragged, "Go save your daughter..."

Vander clenched his fists and jaw, eyes wavering but he nodded and spun, starting to jog away. Her mind swirled and her breath came in gasps, hand again at her pocket-no it wasn't right this wasn't right this wasn't the time no no-but still she barked out, "VAN!"

He slowed, still moving away but looking expectantly at her and she laughed-by Janna she actually laughed, "When things settle down, I got a question for ya, somethin' real important okay? So make sure you get your handsome, pain in the ass self back!"

Vander called that he would. And then he was gone.

Rosemary stood rooted for a moment, feeling sick, fighting the screaming voice in her mind that said she'd never see him again, staring at the spot where he'd vanished and praying to all the powers that be he was right and she was wrong. She prayed to see his smug grin, to feel his strong arms around her, telling her she'd been worried for nothing, to hug Vi and him and the others.

But for the moment, she had a job to do. Taking off again, she headed to the bar to get the word out...

'BROKEN'

Chaos. Confusion. And the terrible, nauseating stench of blood.

The couple dozen strong crowd Rosemary had gathered from the Drop and nearby homes and businesses had made their way to Benzo's...only to find a horrific, heartbreaking scene. People screamed, people used to violence, gruesome mine injuries and disease, were taken aback by the sheer carnage splattered about, blood and gore painting the walls and ground like some sort of deranged, nightmare artwork. Someone found Ekko lingering around, looking dazed and red-eyed and swiftly pulled him into a hug and away somewhere relatively safer.

"What coulda done somethin' like this?!" was the common cry.

Meanwhile, Rosemary was sick, vomiting by a wall then choking back sobs upon seeing what had become of Benzo, her friend, though not close a man she'd known for years, torn up like an animal for slaughter. She even felt a stab of sympathy for Greyson; an Enforcer yes, but someone who had a shred of respect and humanity for the people of the Undercity.

Her panic that this wasn't over, that things were going to get much worse, pounded in her brain. Where was Vi where was Vander what was happening were they okay oh gods-

One man stepped inside the shop for a moment and returned with a sheet, likely being used as a dust cover and layed it over Benzo's body. No such gesture was afforded the topsiders.

There was a few moments of silence, the only funeral rites they were able to give right now.

Then they heard the distant explosion.

A couple of people pointed it out then everyone turned to see the pale wisps of blue smoke just visible above the fissure walls, and it was quickly decided they needed to follow it. After all, two unprecedented and strange events had to be connected, right?

Rosemary, managing to pull herself together, was one of the leaders of the crowd as they made their way towards the docks, toward the abandoned cannery-or, at least it was supposed to be-from which the phenomenon emanated.

All the while her anxiety clawed at her chest like a caged animal; what would they find? Did this have anything to do with the murderous scene behind them? With Vi or Vander? Were they walking into a trap? Were the other kids okay? They must be. They had to be. They all had to be.

The closer they got, the more they could see and hear; the curious smoke still wafted from the numerous holes in the building's roofing, but now also they could see the patches of flame beginning to lick the siding as well as small fires scattered about and the groans of the derelict structure as it was slowly consumed.

Rosemary gave the shouted order to fan out, comb the area and see what they could find before the Enforcers closed in. She and several others charged inside, but with the smoke and some putrid, acrid stench none could place threatening to overwhelm them they retreated to search the outside instead. Someone picked up a small vile of some kind of purple liquid but tossed it away upon a spilled portion burning their skin.

Her panic had actually begun to subside a little, despite the confusing and terrible scene around them; there had been no sign of Vi or Vander, and that gave her a shred of hope. They must be okay, they must still be in the Undercity, or somewhere nearby, probably laying low for the moment until things settled down it was understandable she hoped to help them grieve for Benzo and be there for everyone as she'd always done.

Hearing a blood-curdling, moaning scream mixed with shouts of panicked confusion brought that fear roaring back to the surface.

No...no no no no no no- her mind pleaded, and she scrambled, tripping over her own feet in a mad dash toward the cries, needing to know needing to see needing to be wrong-

Barreling around the corner, she saw another broken pile of wood and debris aflame...with an enormous figure sprawled motionless on the ground.

Rosemary's heart stopped. No...

A few people were gathered around, and upon seeing her one man paled, then shouted at a couple others nearby and pointed at her.

"Get her outta here-now! Don't let her any closer!"

Now her legs, which had been rigid and weak suddenly found themselves again and she lurched forward with a strangled cry, but two men caught her under the arms and swiftly dragged her off while she kicked and screamed in rage, in hopelessness, in despair, in heartbroken loss...

For although it was dark and rainy the fire was more than bright enough for her to see the broken, distorted body of the man she loved...

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #arcane vander #vander arcane #arcane oc #vander x oc #arcane claggor #fluff and angst #cw death #I've been working on this for ages #please reblog

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little-engineer-who-cant · 1 year ago

Text

When the past knocks on her door, Silena has to come clean

Part 4 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(Chapter 2 under cut)

Chapter 2: Sunrises in Shades of Violent Despair

Summary: Jason stumbles in

“I really don’t know what ‘I love you’ means. I think it means ‘don’t leave me here alone.’”

- Adventures in the Dream Trade (Neil Gaiman)

There is someone passed out on her couch. Someone who looks like they’ve run into the wrong end of a pile driver, fractured bones, split skin and bruises mottling every visible inch of them.

And there is her, kneeling beside him and staring at a pool of drying blood with a thousand yard stare, a cloth circling mechanically and smearing more blood than it’s wiping away.

He’s terrified to speak anymore, not when his earlier words sent her down so hard he’d thought she’d go through the floor. Whatever the meaning of this is, it’s an awful one. His eyes flick to the couch again. Vinyl covers, ugly as sin, but she’d always refused to hear anything against them.

(Easy to clean. Hides blood.)

(Fuck.)

How long has she been taking people in like this? How has he not noticed? Where the fuck has she been hiding all the medical supplies he sees scattered around? What the fuck is going on?

(You ignored all the signs that something was wrong.)

(There has to be an explanation.)

(She’s lying.)

(About what? What the fuck do you think?)

(You’re asking my opinion?)

(I’ve got nothing else.)

(Kill her.)

Jason’s lips curl angrily. The one fucking time he wants the parasite in his head to voice an opinion and all it gives him is the worst fucking option.

(She lied.)

His hand crunches the bloody rag into a fist.

(She lied.)

He looks at her, maybe his last look at her, taking in the familiar-

Sitting back on his heels, he blinks at the right side of her face. At the texturing he’s somehow never noticed before. He’s looked at her face how many thousands of times, studied it and memorized it, he thought he’d have been able to pick it out of a crowd. But now? Now, he’s wondering if he’s ever seen her before at all. It’s right there, plain as day because he knows what covered scars look like. There are plenty on his own face he covers when he’s out in civilization. Little nicks from where the crow bar took skin around the most obvious one that caved his skull in, the one he hates with every fiber of his being carved at the hinge of his jaw that no amount of stubble will even try to touch. Like that patch of skin is cursed, defiled, forever unsalvageable.

(Stop thinking about it.)

(It’s just as cursed as the rest of you.)

She’s tried very hard to make it look natural and gotten impressively close. But not close enough that he shouldn’t have fucking noticed.

(Did the crowbar take an eye too?)

Reaching towards her shoulder, he expects her to jump at the movement, look at him, react in any way at all. She’s strung tight enough to snap with a feather touch and so hyper aware he thinks a speck of dust could set her off if it moved wrong. If she looks at him, maybe he’ll get a better angle to see exactly how blind he’d been.

But she doesn’t notice until he touches her and a sickening pit of suspicion opens in his stomach when she flinches away.

“I’m going outside,” he tells her, sounding far away in his own ears. He can’t be next to her without losing either his guts or his mind, both of which will result in him doing something irrevocably stupid and he’s fucked up enough recently.

(Letting her in at all was the fuck up.)

(I didn’t know.)

(Because she’s been lying to you.)

(I’ve been lying to her.)

(Not since you showed her.)

(But I never told her the truth.)

(She never asked.)

Walking away from her might be irrational, but he can’t bring himself to empty a chamber into her.

(Shoot her. Don’t give her a chance to run.)

(She won’t run.)

(You don’t know her at all.)

(Weak. She walked into your hands, end her.)

But she’d smiled at him in sunlight and danced with him even past moon-rise, like the light would never fade.

(She danced with a dead man.)

She’d laid out his helmet like a welcome mat, helped hold his weary body upright, brushed gentle hands over bruises and run loving fingers through his hair. Cooked dinner with him, sprawled in his lap and made inane commentary to stupid shows, spoken so passionately about stitching techniques he didn’t even begin to understand, listened to him ramble on about engines and complain about fiddly electronics. Normal. Every time he swept through her door, he was normal again.

He can’t hurt her. Because even when she knew she had a lion in her lap, she loved him all the same.

—

“Do I get any explanation?” He’s not even looking at her when he asks, face obscured and focused on the distant sight of the tower denoting Wayne Enterprises, barely visible from her shitty fire escape placement.

“How long of one do you want?” she replies, hugging herself as she watches him from the open window.

“I want the truth.”

“That’s the most dangerous part.”

“It usually is.” Silence falls, his back to her, her eyes burning into the back of his skull. She can’t taste anything but ash and gasoline, the tarry pit of vinegar tinged betrayal, the metallic and rottingly cloying resignation.

“I…” she can’t start. How can she start? The Greek gods are real and it all gets worse from there? It’s the truth but…

“Anna-” There.

“Silena.” Something shatters there, in the silence. She thinks it’s a heart, but if it’s hers or his she has no idea. Maybe both . “My… my name is Silena. Anna is what my father called me when I was little. Easy for me to answer to.” And that one truth is the final crack that brings down the floodgates, that brings everything she’s ever swallowed into the light, look at me, look at this awful thing- “My apartment is a… pit stop, I guess you could call it. A waystation is what it’s actually called. It’s… it’s for other people like me who need help. Other demigods.” Keep going. “The Greek gods are real. They have children with humans. And…” keep going, keep going- “and we’re not expected to live long. Between monsters, gods and others like us, it’s rare for us to see twenty.”

“Why did you lie?” And there’s the kicker, please look at me. If she sees his face, she’ll know what to say, how to say it. His taste hasn’t changed, she’s running practically blind and hoping this doesn’t blow up in her face, you knew the risks when he came to you that night and you’ve let him in every night since.

“There are no meta-humans allowed in Gotham,” she whispers. “So I hide in plain sight. Most don’t stay. They don’t come here unless there’s no choice.”

“Why did you come here?” She closes her eyes. Even if he was facing her now, she’ll keep running blind. This is the most honest you’ve been in years, isn’t it?

“To hide,” she repeats, “in plain sight.”

A hand touches her chin, making her eyes fly open. He’s so quiet she hadn’t even heard him come close. He stands just to the other side of the crooked, ill hung window frame in her crappy, run down apartment that’s seen too much despair, reaching over the sill and cupping her chin like she’s glass.

“That’s not everything,” he murmurs, his eyes digging into her soul like it’s an open book to him. Maybe it is. Only the gods know what exactly this man is capable of and Silena certainly isn’t one.

“It’ll take a long time to tell you the story of my life.” She doesn’t dare touch him, look at me, look at this wretched little thing before you and see the truth that everyone else ignored, everyone else denied.

“You would tell me?”

“You’re the only person I know who’d listen.” They stare at one another, deadlocked in an eternal second before he huffs a broken laugh.

“That’s not a high bar.”

“It is for me.” And it really is. Someone who would listen . Even if he hates her by the end of it, Jason will listen. “It is for me.”

#silena beauregard #jason todd #clarisse la rue #batman #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing #ao3 link

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aladaylessecondblog · 11 months ago

Text

Battle Against a True Hero (Shezarrine v Sithis)

Author's Note: Yes this is Undyne the Undying-inspired because when the fight is against Sithis I'm not sure who else I know that would fit the bill better for inspiration. This is me attempting to work some stuff out and write exciting bits when I'm doing more buildup-y stuff in the current chapters. "Shattered Lorkhan" stuff, lots of Lorkhan lore I'm making up myself. I'm shit at fight scenes, but this'll probably end up better in the "final" version. As usual nothing is canon until it actually shows up in FHW.

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

The mer, no, the thing standing before her spoke no words at first, merely stood smirking.

They had an audience. The Stormcloaks that stood watching in rapt horror, the imperial army nearby, a scattering of others--and at the forefront Sadrith saw Voryn.

This is what I was made to do, she thought, This is where even HE was meant to go.

She looked back to the one before her. He had maintained a steady physical form at first, what one might expect of an Altmer, with his robe a deep void that shimmered with stars. Now every detail of him was in a state of constant flux, with nothing remaining the same. Hair, feather, scale, fur, claws--

But still living.

That was the key to all this. The chaos before her was alive, and what was more, was enjoying it.

Then a laugh.

"The Blade of Woe? You were never adept with the bigger swords, weak child."

Sadrith took a deep breath, and charged. Each blow struck true but seemed to do little, and in her mind the Crusader rose. She ducked the next few blows, tucked away the Blade of Woe, and brought up the sword of the Crusader.

He is powerful, but he is not unbeatable.

Each strike she felt in return was worse than any yet put upon her by a weapon before, and Sithis fought with no weapon but his hands. Unnatural things, for despite the changing nature of the rest of him there was in the feeling of his fingernails a sensation more akin to that of claws than anything else.

There was a rapid flurry of attacks, and when she fell back, hit by the last of them, an oppressive weight settled on her chest.

"Give up, child," Sithis spoke, "Do the job you were created for, and you shall have the joy of being the last creation of mine to live."

Sadrith spat blood, and struggled to her feet.

If I rebelled, so can you

Alduin's voice was the next to ring out - and she groaned at the expansion in her mind as he joined Pelinal.

"You never did know when to quit."

The sword of the Crusader was knocked aside, but she soon brought to hand a Dragonbone replacement. Every muscle was tired, screaming with fatigue, but she could feel the anticipation and fear from those who watched, felt their hopes, felt their focus upon defeating Sithis.

Sithis did not even attempt to block her next blows.

"Alduin?" he laughed when she Shouted and deflected the flames easily, "Yes. Yes, my wayward son, my first mistake. The bit of Akatosh that I chiseled off from him to form you. Chaos itself - and yet what did you do? You tried to form empires to fight against me! Every dragon priest, every slave, all made and taken to resist what you should have done to start!"

"You wanted an end, so you made one. That sounds like order to me." Sadrith stopped momentarily to catch her breath. "You are nothing if not contradictory."

"Lorkhan, do not backtalk me. It was I who created you. I who twisted the piece of Akatosh into something usable."

"Shor," she said.

"What?"

"My name is Shor," she said, speaking words that somehow were hers and yet not hers, "I cast off the name you gave me long ago. I am not--will not--be the end of those here. I will save them...I will..."

"Thousands of years you have been trying to incarnate, to shore up the world against me, and for thousands of years you have failed. You think you wield weapons? They are toys. Toys in the hand of a child who has no idea of their potential. You could have been my crowning achievement! Now--now, you are NOTHING!"

Her head was a whirlwind, but she kept her eyes on the THING before her despite it.

Gradually. Gradually. They had to join slowly, or her mind would be broken before it could hold the pieces.

On your feet. The Heart is yours. Ours. And with it we will triumph.

And then, as Voryn had done when she had been firmly in the throes of detoxing from the skooma, the typhoon cleared. Her next weapon was Keening, drawn from her bag and used to block one of Sithis' furious blows.

"So the Dark Heart has come home. How fitting for you to be the guildmaster of thieves, your body is full of things that are not yours!" A cracked laugh, in what seemed like several tones at once. Fangs showed at his lips, began lengthening, and unlike the rest of the body, weren't in that state of flux. "He is as much chaos as you are, only of a different kind. How much of a fool can you be? How much more will you fight this hopeless battle?"

A burning feeling settled in her chest as her heart beat rapidly away. Sithis was for a handful of seconds the same shape, and his flux wasn't as rapid either.

What was happening?

A warrior's resolve...the rebel, the darkness, the light...chaos, order...

There was a peal of laughter and a poof of butterflies as the next voice spoke.

Aye, are we doing something fun? No one told me! Oh, that DOES look nasty...well, don't tell anyone I did this, but...

The Wabbajack appeared, from where she did not know.

Give our father a taste of his own medicine.

Sadrith aimed it directly at Sithis, and once more he laughed.

His form was shifting to a serpent, and its color stayed the same. The state of constant flux had come to an end. There was a strike against her face and she fell back, clutching the Wabbajack as her head spun and her vision swam.

"You pathetic little stain," he hissed, "I should have blotted you out before you drew your first breath. I should have known better than to trust you would do the job I made you for. A lesson to learn before I consign you to the Void, child - never delegate work to others when you can do it yourself. It prevents...failures like this."

His hatred is anchoring him, another thought came as she charged the Wabbajack and blasted Sithis with it. There was a flash of light and an explosion of fire, and Sadrith had to raise her arm to block her eyes from the heat of it.

She lowered the Wabbajack with her other hand and shot blindly forward--and from a sudden lack of noise figured something must have happened. When her vision cleared she couldn't help but laugh.

The mighty Sithis, reduced to a harmless little bunny rabbit, but not for very long. She reached for another weapon.. From her arsenal was drawn now the sword of Jyggalag. Had she been able to think of her situation objectively, from the outside, she might have thought how ridiculous she looked. Wabbajack in one hand, Jyggalag's sword in the other, as she looked down upon the most innocent looking creature in all Tamriel.

But energy crackled, magic sparked, and soon from beneath the rabbit's fur burst the serpent anew.

Her mind was still, even as the raging serpent before her struck in rapid succession. She was tired, gods, how tired, every muscle aching more and more with every attempt to move. Yet somehow something -- something kept her moving.

There is no solution for chaos but order, the voice said in her head.

There are plenty of ways to counter chaos! More chaos, I say!

Fools, all of you.

Strike NOW!

DESTROY HIM!

The serpent of chaos lashed forward to strike and she turned the Wabbajack, intending to blast Sithis with it again--but her hand trembled and all she managed to do was jab the head-end in his mouth. She followed the whim to shove it further, and rushed forward to put a boot on its neck.

"You're choking," she said, "That's new to you, isn't it? You're the Is-Not. The void. The chaos. You're not supposed to feel anything. This body is just a shell."

A laugh, hers or Dagoth Ur's or Alduin's or Sheogorath's she did not know.

"But you spent so much time alive...enjoyed it..." Both hands now, on the hilt of Jyggalag's sword. She turned the sword point down.

Deep breath.

Sithis had made his physical form MORE than what it had been intended to be by living.

I cannot die. You cannot slay that which is not!

The thought appeared in her mind, and wrenched painfully with something new.

Fear. Sithis was afraid.

He was no longer the Is-Not, or rather, not only that. He had lived, truly lived, in a mortal body, with all its ups and downs. All its joys and sorrows. He had become more than what he was, and thus came the key to drive him back.

She pressed her boot down harder, and held the sword point above the serpent's eye. Why she hesitated, she was unsure. But still, there was that moment.

Without me, none of you would ever have come to be! Without me--

"Without you we will LIVE!"

She drove the sword down with a yell; an unholy screech that left her ears pounding followed. The serpent's body lashed back at her, tried to coil about her, choke the life from her even as its own was ebbing away.

I will come back. I will come back, and visit the pain you cause now tenfold upon you!

The only thing keeping her upright now was Jyggalag's sword, and Sadrith clung to it like a lifeline, until the serpent's struggle ended.

"And I will be here waiting."

Then she fell back, and all went black.

#im making up my own lorkhan lore #some talos imagery the nords are going insane off camera #sithis shoulda took a note of the auditors from hogfather #final battle #dragonborn is shezarrine #dagoth ur #pelinal whitestrake #alduin #sheogorath #jyggalag #fanfiction #elder scrolls #skyrim #tes #tesblr

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