#kit’s like ash isn’t my brother
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Yk what I want for twp? Kit and Ash to have this reluctant siblings dynamic. Lol it’d be so fun, in the beginning they could kinda be untrusting of each other but then they’d have to work together and then they fight like siblings all the time but gradually grow to support each other and all hehe
#dru and ty love this#dru’s like go get your brother#kit’s like ash isn’t my brother#dru: I didn’t even specify who but it’s cute you instantly thought of ash when I mentioned brother 👀#ya literature#ya books#ya lit#ya fiction#cassandra clare#tsc#shadowhunters#the shadowhunter chronicles#twp#the wicked powers#kit herondale#ash morgenstern#dru blackthorn#ty blackthorn#the last king of faerie#the last prince of hell#the last shadowhunter
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Hc that Kit only pulls out his faerie rank with Ash
So it’s like
The TWP Gang playing a game (like Clue or smth)
Anush: Who’s going first
Kit+Ash at the same time: Me!
*glaring at each other*
Kit: I didn’t want to have to do this but—
Dru: *groans*
Kit: as the heir of BOTH courts of faerie I feel—
Ash: 😐😳😡
Dru: Isn’t it usually youngest goes first, so me?!
Ash: well technically—
Dru: no
Ash: but—
Dru: either you’re 17 bc of faerie/thule time or we’re breaking up
Ash: just because—
Dru: no. I���m not dating someone who is “technically” younger than my little brother. So are you 17 or not?
Ash: Of course I’m 17, I don’t have 17 yrs of shitty memories to not be 17
Dru: awww poor poor baby Ashy 🥹
Ash: don’t break up with me 😩
Dru: nah you’re stuck with me
Ash: 😎
Thais: Guys, Ty has already taken his first turn lol
#the wicked powers#kit herondale#ash morgenstern#dru blackthorn#ty blackthorn#anush joshi#thais pedroso#the last king of faerie#kit x ty#morgenthorn
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Healed Wrong
Part 1 of 4
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WC: 2349
Warnings: Character death, near-drowning, self-harm (kinda)
Summary: Clone Troopers Flinch, Sway and Ash are freshly deployed on the swamp planet of Dokmur to guard a republic base. Things are uneventful, but danger lurks in the nearby flooded forest.
Heeere's my clone OC, Flinch's (CT-8424) backstory! Probably what he was retelling to ulvi in this comic. Takes place toward the very end of the war, weeks before order 66 and the fall of the Jedi.
Whumptober 2024. Day 06 l not realizing they're injured l unhealthy coping mechanisms l healed wrong l "it's not my blood"
The battlefield was a swamp, and forces on both sides struggled to maneuver. The battles were hell, the boots were constantly filled with water, and the insects bit through every gap in the armor.
Flinch, Ash, and Sway were as shiny as shiny could get, assigned as warm bodies protecting the perimeter of a base hardly anyone was using.
“I think the Sergeant has lost his mind.” Sway huffed as he scanned the tree lines
“What makes you say that?” Ash stood at his right.
“He’s got us running around all over the place, checking the weak points in the wall. Shouldn’t we just be patrolling around the whole perimeter in a circle? We’d end up wasting way less time that way.”
Ash Shrugged. “Maybe we should ask him why?”
“Hell no, questioning a superior officer? Are you serious?”
Ash shrugged again. “Maybe if you frame it like a suggestion? Or curiosity?”
“Not with Sergeant Kip, he’d have us court martialed for tying our shoes wrong.”
“Our boots don’t have laces…” Ash‘s comment trailed off as another figure started running toward them from the sentry threshold in the force field which surrounded the base.
“Late again?” Ash chided, Flinch didn’t need to see his face to know there was a cocky smirk beneath that helmet.
Flinch slowed to a jog as he closed the distance. “I left my bucket in the refresher right before someone went in and took FOREVER to finish up!” He complained with a huff.
Sway and Ash laughed
“You’re a mess.” Sway punched at Flinch in the arm.
“OW! Dammit Sway it’s still healing!” Flinch reflexively grabbed his right bicep where his fresh fist print tattoo was marinating under a bacta patch.
“What’s the point of getting a tattoo no one will see?” Ash tilted his head, the middle of his flame tattoo that led from behind his ear to his collarbone just barely visible.
“At least mine isn’t a boat.” Flinch's defensive glare was so potent it shot through his visor.
“What’s wrong with a boat?” Sway scoffed.
“Why do you even like them? They’re useless.”
“They’re efficient… and poetic.”
The patrol went on as usual, boring. The three took turns, rotating one person at the post and two roving, none of them ever out of sight of each other.
Flinch and Sway walked their route, their conversation dwindling as they grew hungrier through their long shift. They slowed at the treeline.
“Our relief must be overdue.” Sway complained.
Flinch glanced at the sky. “Nah, we’ve still got an hour and a half.”
“How do you know that?”
“The moons, see? That larger one hasn’t crossed the path of the smaller one yet, they follow the same path every day.”
“How is it you have the concentration to know where the celestial bodies are at all times, but no focus when it comes to keeping your kit together?”
Flinch shrugged, looking into the woods. The stagnant water rippling between the mangrove trees that stood like sentinels in the swamp. “What is that?”
Sway followed his gaze. The still water had begun to ripple. “Probably a fish or something, let’s stay focused Flinch.” He lightly cuffed Flinch’s left, untattooed arm. The pair kept walking the treeline. The pair cast a cautious glance toward Ash, a hundred yards away now, dutifully watching his patrolling brothers with his rifle at the ready.
Flinch and Sway were at the edge of their assigned area, about to turn back the way they came. Flinch looked up into the tree that marked their border, its base was submerged in the water here at the edge of the swamp.The branches were tall and spindly with myriads of tiny leaves all reaching toward the sky. Vines and bromeliadae hung from the trunk and branches like draped sinew. He spun on his heel and turned toward the base.
Before the two knew what was happening, arms appeared from behind a tree and snatched both of them. They gasped in sync as the forceful tugs of two assassin droids wrapped around their waists set them off balance and plunging into the thick black water.
Flinch panicked as he felt the full weight of the droid now on top of him, he could barely see through the opaque surface of the water. Even though the seal of his helmet kept the water out, he already felt the lack of oxygen through the filter in front of his mouth.
“FLINCH! SWAY!” The helmet comm rang out, Ash had seen the attack but was still far away, and he was met with no response. Flinch found himself hoping Ash would stay away. Brave as he was, he was no match for a force like this.
The droid’s dead-eyed stare floated right over the surface, watching him struggle. His vision began to go black at the edges. NO. He steeled himself. This is not how I go out. He saw a third droid appear from above his head, upside-down in his vision. It held some kind of strange weapon, a blaster with a noise suppressing muzzle. The droid pointed it at Flinch’s head.
With his last ounce of strength and at the end of his consciousness, Flinch ripped out one final burst of energy. Twisting suddenly, and violently. The soft mud helped him roll out from underneath the droid. Miraculously, he kept a grip on his blaster through the maneuver. His head spun as he hopped to his feet, his reaction time was not slowed as he put a laser bolt through the droid that had been straddling him. Followed quickly by dropping the second assassin droid on top of Sway.
He leveled his blaster at the third droid, with the modified pistol, and clipped his metal leg as the machine sprung up into the treetops with impressive ease. Flinch lost sight of it.
“I’ve got backup, we’re on our way!” Ash commed in as Flinch rushed to Sway.
“Copy.” Flinch coughed, ripping his helmet off as he caught his breath and grabbed Sway by the neck hole in his chest opening. Dragging his brother to the edge of the water, Flinch rolled Sway onto his side and removed his helmet as quickly as he could.
Sway was terrifyingly still for five agonizing seconds, Flinch’s chest seized with horror, then his brother let out a cough that sounded like it should’ve sent a lung flying across the mud where he lay. He gasped for air, and Flinch leaned forward and wrapped an arm over his side. “You’re okay, you stupid sailor.” He huffed, also out of breath.
Sway would’ve said something snarky back, but was busy coughing out, gasping in. His whole body shuddered under Flinch’s hold. Flinch sat back up, and looked up at the treetops where the droid had disappeared to. The vines swayed, but now that his helmet was off he felt no wind.
Ash was still sprinting toward them, three other troopers at his flank, probably the next sentries on shift. Flinch struggled to bring his oxygen depleted mind back to focus, he looked back up to the trees. Something felt wrong.
As much as he didn’t want to breathe the stale air of his helmet again, after almost taking his last breath inside it, he slammed the bucket back on. “Bogeys, tree bogeys.” He whispered into the comm, turning his gaze at the approaching figures again.
Ash gave one single quick nod, and slowed to a jog, his reinforcements following suit. They were still a good distance away. Please, stay there, out of range. Flinch prayed.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, boys.” Ash spoke steadily into the comm. His voice was calm and strong, a commander’s voice. He sounded different, not at all like the young rookie he was. “The droids are using Flinch and Sway as bait, we can’t let them know that we know that. Let’s put on a good show, follow my lead.”
Ash turned off the comm and removed his helmet, his jog now slowing to a march as he neared earshot. “You boys okay? What happened?”
Sway was attempting to get up now, still coughing and not able to speak. Flinch helped him up and supported his weight as he leaned wearily on his brother. “We’re okay, assassin droids jumped us from behind that tree, there was a third one but… I think it got away.” Flinch gestured toward the mangroves behind him, and slowly began walking himself and his brother toward their reinforcements. Ash held out a hand and made a small motion for them to slow down, casting the quickest glance possible toward the trees, his open palm became a fist, the signal to halt. Flinch obeyed the sign.
Ash and the three other troopers closed the distance, he reached out and grabbed Flinch’s hand with both of his. “I’m glad you’re okay, brother.” His hands turned Flinch’s hand palm down, he had deposited a round object into his palm. Flinch couldn’t help but smirk. Ash stepped back. “Let’s head back, we’re going to need to activate some protocols.” Flinch caught the signal, flicking the button on the object in his hand. He noticed the other troopers subtly doing the same thing. Ash had always been the tactician. “And from there we’ll have to send our reports straight up to the TOP!” He screamed the last word and all five of them flung their droid poppers into the treetops with all their might. “GO GO GO GO GO!” Ash cried out while grabbing at Sway, who was still coughing but able to keep up with Ash and Flinch pulling at him as they followed the other three patrol troopers who were sprinting back toward the perimeter. The telltale burst of energy sounded as the poppers found their marks, the trio could hear several droid bodies hit the mud below. Then the shots rang out, and they tore across the field with their lives.
All six troopers made it back to the sentry tower, gasping. As soon as the door closed behind them, Sway collapsed against Flinch. Flinch held his brother up, shocked relief written across his face, a smile hinting through his open mouth as he also caught his breath. The two fell to their knees on the metal floor, their white armor absolutely filthy with black mud.
“I got you brother, let’s get you both cleaned up.” Ash reached down to lift up Sway, who was, in fact, swaying on his knees and beginning to lean forward. Sway accepted the help and got to his feet, a hand on Ash’s shoulder for support. Flinch pushed himself up off his knees and followed, leaving black footprints behind himself. As they exited the tower, several officers rushed up to them asking questions about the incident. Flinch looked up at the moons, studying their position again. Hardly any time. Hardly any time had gone by. That whole ordeal had been mere minutes, he had lived a lifetime and all the emotions in between in those few minutes.
“No, I don’t think any of us are hurt.” Ash reassured one of the officers as they walked.
“There’s blood on the ground.” The non-clone officer pointed out.
At the comment everyone looked at the ground behind Flinch, who walked right behind Sway. Someone’s bootprint was leaving red tracks in the mossy ground.
“I don’t think that’s mine...” Flinch’s face tightened, and he looked up at Sway and Ash. Sway was pale. Flinch looked down at his feet, blood cascaded out of the gap between his shin guard and his boot, the black mud that had been therewas replaced by bright red.
Flinch has a hard time recalling the minutes that followed. Quite unlike the slowed-down time of his adrenaline-induced altercation with the droids, he only remembers the next part in flashes.
Sway went down, Flinch would not leave his side, Sway’s pale face, and the shaking. Shock. They had learned all about shock as cadets. They made it back, they were supposed to be safe. They had won, that was supposed to be the end of it.
No one had noticed the second assassin droid had a vibroknife, somehow it had found the gap in the armor on Sway’s thigh.
Sway’s last moments were spent frightened, looking up at Flinch. Flinch grabbed the side of his face below the ear, thumb leaving prints of blood over the glyphic boat tattoo on his jaw. He wished he had the mind to say something, anything, any words to comfort Sway as the light left his eyes. The medics didn’t make it in time. Too much time in the rancid water, too much time running while bleeding out, not enough time to get help. Not enough time to say goodbye.
-
Flinch lay in his bunk that night staring at the bottom of the mattress above him. Ash had commandeered the bunk beside his, the previous owner not making any fuss about trading for this night.
“They said they want to check you for fluid in your lungs again tomorrow morning.” Ash reported, sitting on the very edge of the thin mattress, leaning his elbows on his knees. He looked at Flinch, but tears stung his eyes, he looked down at the floor instead.
“Water didn’t even get in my mouth.” Flinch said, deadpan.
Ash shrugged. “I told them that, they didn’t care. They just wanted me to tell you. Don’t shoot the messenger.” He gave a weak attempt at a light-hearted tone.
Flinch closed his eyes and sighed, turning over in the bed away from Ash. He felt Ash’s weight sit next to him, setting hand on his shoulder. Ash said nothing, just breathed for a while. “I’ll be right here.” He patted Flinch as he stood and moved to his borrowed bunk just a few feet away.
Flinch’s left hand found the neck of his black underarmor, he pulled at it, then his hand went inside the shirt to his right bicep. His fresh tattoo. It had begun to itch like mad ever since a few hours ago. As he scratched at it the sensation brought quick relief, he didn’t slow down as it turned into a burning bright pain. He didn’t remember stopping, he didn’t remember falling asleep either.
#whumptober 2024#no.6#not realizing they're injured#unhealthy coping mechanisms#healed wrong#it's not my blood#star wars the clone wars#oc#fic#writing#art#character death#near drowning#bleeding out#my ocs#flinch#sw tcw#clone oc#I drew that clone armor completely by memory baby
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Some ideas for fleshing out ShadowClan’s family tree, mostly focusing on Yellowfang. Check out my other family trees here.
Considering the lack of cats in allegiances outside of ThunderClan, I find it kind of fun to make the whole family tree. I have one done for each clan from about MV to the most recent book. I’m slowly making the heads for each one to make it a better visual. I generally try to make them genetically accurate but sometimes making them look cool is more fun.
Notes on changes are below the cut. :)
Cedarstar and Silverflame are siblings
Deerleap and Brightflower are siblings
I always throught Brackfoot and Amberleaf looked alike so they are also siblings
I’ve changed Clawface’s name to Clawstrike. He’s still the brother of Nightpelt/star, I just didn’t include him on this tree
Yellowfang tortie rights
I’ve given Boulder a clan name, Bouldernose. He is mates with Cinderfur instead of Ashheart. They use a surrogate to have their kits and Bouldernose is their bio father. I’ve eliminated Ash to avoid any family tree crossing and to make it a little less confusing.
Instead of Brightflower being the mother of Marigold and Mint, Rowanberry is. Brightflower is a permanent nursery resident and their deaths still hit her hard. Clawstrike’s continued support of Branchstar starts to break apart their relationship as kits continue to die.
Poppytail (Tallpoppy) has kits with two different cats. Her first litter is with Branchstar (Brokenstar), and consist of Ratclaw (Ratscar) and Oakfur. Though the relationship might have started amicable (I don’t imagine they loved each other, but Branch wanted kits to follow his example), it slowly broke down as Branch continued to commit war crimes.
Poppy later has kits with Whitewater. They make up Poppy’s canon litter during TNP + Snowbird. While Snow and Rat are no longer littermates, they’re still half-siblings.
Rubblestep (Rubblekit) survives to adulthood and has Snaketail, Ivystrike, and Owlclaw with an unknow cat, probably a loner.
Quietpaw (Quietkit) is one of the early apprentices that die before their warriorhood. The BoulderxCinder littermates are around the same age as Littlecloud.
Applefur and Smokefoot have two kits, Shrewfoot and Olivenose.
Oakfur has kits with Ivytail of RiverClan! They have Graymist together. I like to think that there are a lot more half clan relationships than seen in the books, it’s just less of a deal when it isn’t super political.
Ivystrike is Ivytail, funny how I managed to get both the Shadow and River one in here.
I cut off the tree here to avoid making it super big. I may go back and post of a tree with Scorchfur and Snowbird.
Ivystrike has Grassheart with Stoatfur. Berryheart and Yarrowleaf have their canon kits. And Shrewfoot has Wasptail and Stonewing.
#warrior cats#warrior cats au#au#my au#my art#my stuff#family tree#silverflame#brightflower#yellowfang#brokenstar#tallpoppy#cinderfur#snowbird#ivytail#graymist#berryheart#cloverfoot#oh i forgor to put the title in the pic ughhhh i think ill just leave it that way#i made a new cat head base with a flatter face#i hope it looks alright
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@clouded-ashes for the reverse Warrior born Fireheart and kittypet Tigerclaw!
First, let’s get the families settled
You never said that they’d have the same family tree soooooo Fireheart is the first born son to Redtail and Runningwind(now a female cause I said so 💀)
This means Fireheart actually is Sandstorm’s older brother, he is a year older then in canon btw but he’s still ginger, getting it from his father. He was born with his sister Sapplingleaf(from my au lol) who looks like Runningwind but with some white and is fluffy from Redtail.
Tiger is born to Nutmeg and Pine mwahaha. Pine lived longer and became mates with Nutmeg before dying of old age. Nutmeg then has Tiger and 4 other kits.
Tiger grows up hearing all about the clans from his mother and how they are evil and they threw out his father, Pine for being different. (He was exiled after being founded out that he had a kittypet mate in this Au, Leopardfoot still has Mistkit and Nightkit who still die so Leopardstar is heart broken and dies a few moons later from a broken heart.)
Tiger wants revenge for his father so he goes out to get recruited by the clans, which with Bluestar seeing so much of Pinestar in him, and knowing it’s Pinestar’s kits, she allows him. Which goes to now Tigerclaw’s head way to much.
Cloudtail is born to Sapplingleaf with her mate Featherfall(Featherkit, Dappledtail’s that died but ima make him live so he can have Cloudtail with Sappling.) along with 3 other siblings because yes. (I think I like Longtail also being their kit and 2 others, just some Oc’s.)
Everything happens but everything is kinda pulled back is switched around. Tigerclaw isn’t as trusted and still kills Redtail but instead of Lionheart becoming deputy, Fireheart does, being now older and experienced. And being Redtail’s son. He actually keeps his green eyes from him as-well lol.
Tigerclaw is furious and tries and kill a Ravenpaw for knowing to much but Fireheart is quick to catch onto things and stops him. Getting him exiled a bit sooner. Bluestar is of course stressed because the first cat she lets in 1. Kills her deputy. And 2. Tries and kills her half-sibling. Ravenpaw. Who is now the son of Stormtail and a random she-cat along with Dustpelt cause I like the idea of them being related.
Fireheart is quick to step up, taking over much of the leader roles until Bluestar actually retires instead of dies and Fireheart gets 8 lives. (Due to Bluestar needing to keep one to live) Bluestar becomes a elder in the elders den in which she loves because all her old friends are in the elders den or of not dead (she does grieve for Rosetail’s death this time, I hate how they made it to where she didn’t care at ALL that her best friend died.
Tigerclaw is planning with Brokenstar and actually joins Shadowclan, only to kill Brokenstar himself and step up as leader. A bit darker then the original series but eh, it’s Tigerclaw.
Tigerstar is quick to make adjustments, bring back the elders so he has more support and Nightpelt is never made leader. He actually becomes mates with Tallpoppy which they have their first litter (I NEED A FATHER FOR HER KITS PLEASE NO HATE SHDGWGSGDGYG)
Tigerstar actually becomes mates with GoldenFlower before his exile and she is currently pregnant with Bramblepetal (sorry but flower is so over used) and Tawnyclaw. Tigerclaw never knows he has kits so he never convinces Tawnyclaw to join.
He finds out later when he is killed that his kits are Bramble and Tawny but can’t manipulate them because they don’t even know their father and aren’t treated like shit in Thunderclan and are actually very respected warriors.
That’s pretty much it.
You guys can continue it if you want.
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Dream a Little Dream of Me
Inspired by Aceriee’s Art
My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and I have always believed, firmly, that I will meet my end staring down the barrel of a gun.
And, well, not that I haven’t. I’ve had my fair share of death by a gun. Dare I say, more than the average Joe. But those never seem to stick in our family. Anyways, I digress.
If not a gunshot, then I was absolutely sure that it was gonna be a heart attack! My very unhealthy eating habits aside, I figured there’s only so much stress a heart can take before it gives up. I mean, how many apocalypses would I get to prevent, and/or stop before the sheer terror got too much?
And then of course, there was the obvious choice. Death at the hands of a monster. This one I always tried to avoid thinking about. First, because it was bad juju, and second, because I thought myself better than that.
But, here we are! At the age of 41, I have finally met a foe strong enough to defeat me.
Heart, meet rebar. And just when I had found the perfect dog!
I mean, really, I blame it on the poor judgment of whoever thought this would make for a good interior design. Who goes around leaving rebars out of walls? I have worked construction before, I know the safety codes, and if it isn’t obvious by my state right now, this is so against most of them.
SAM: Alright. Let's go find those kids, get them outta here.
Oh boy! Sam doesn’t know yet. As Donna would say, hooftah! Hmm. How to break this to him?
DEAN: Sam...I don't... Mm.I don't think I'm going anywhere buddy.
I should tell him to remember to take Miracle for a walk when he’s done here. Preferably before burning my body to ashes. That takes too long and my boy is too tiny. I just cleaned the bunker.
SAM: What? What are you talking about?
Dammit Sam. Must you choose this moment to go dumb?
DEAN: There's something in my...Something in my back. It feels like it's right through my heart man.
Finally! That gets Sam to stand directly in front of me, still a few inches away and he reaches around to my back. Don’t know about him, but I’m not surprised to see his hand come back bloody. Too much blood. He better not get blood on the bunker floor either.
DEAN:Oh, God.
SAM: Alright. Um… Hold on. Okay. Uh, I got you.
The fuck does this fool think he’s doing?
DEAN: No, no, no, no, no. Don't... Don't... Don't move me.
Ugh, how many times do I have to repeat myself before he hears me? I’m literally at my deathbed and the kid still hasn’t learned to listen to me.
Figures.
DEAN: Don't move me.It feels like this thing's holding me together right now. Just give me… Just give me a minute.
SAM: Yeah. Um... alright. I'll call for help. I'll get the first-aid kit.
Might be the bloodloss, but time starts to stretch as I watch Sam take out his phone and move to walk away. I do remember what I said to him earlier today.
The whole “I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away.Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.”
The thing is, I lied. I do that. And honestly, if Sam believed that bullshit, it’s on him. Anyways, yeah, I lied and though I always hoped for more dignity in my death, truth is, I don't want him to get help. Not gonna do anyone any good, even if by some miracle they get me to survive this.
DEAN: Sam, Sam! Sam… Stay wi… Stay with me… Can you stay with me, please?
SAM: Okay. Yeah.
Huh! Can’t believe that actually worked. Maybe he is learning to listen to me. Better put it to use. First thing’s first.
DEAN: Okay. Okay. Uh... right. Alright. Listen to me. Um… You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, alright?
SAM: Dean...We are gonna get them somewhere safe.
Bless his heart. My little brother.
DEAN: No. We knew it was always gonna end like this for me. I mean, maybe not exactly like this, not the kinda penetration I’m into really, but It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things… It's what we do. What we’ve always done.
SAM: No, no. Stop, okay? Just... Just stop.
But I’m tired. How do I tell him that I’m so tired? How do I make him understand this is happening because of the sleepless nights I’ve had these past few weeks, escaping images of nothingness taking away all the light in my world?
DEAN: It's okay. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man. But I’m done…
SAM: I will find a way, okay? I-I will find another way.
DEAN: No, man. No. No. No, no, no, no. You’re not hearing me! No bringing me back, okay? You know... You know that always ends badly.
SAM: Dean...
DEAN: Sammy I’m done.. I can’t do this anymore.. Not without him…
God, please let this be enough for him. Please let this get him to let me go.
SAM: P-Please… what about the beach? Our feet in the sand, drinks with tiny umbrellas, Dean, you… you said it yourself! You said if Jack… you PROMISED ME!
Oh Jesus, here come the fireworks… how do I make him understand, if I can’t have matching hawaiian shirts with Cas… What the hell am I supposed to do without his pretty ass there? How am I expected to just go on, when I know Cas is surrounded by darkness? By nothingness? By the empty…
DEAN: I'm fading pretty… I'm fading pretty quickly, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear… Come here. Let me look at you. Yeah, there he is.
Ok, Winchester. Take a deep breath. You can do this. You can make this ok for your little brother.
DEAN: I'm so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Man, when we were kids, you were so damn smar... smart. You never… You never took any of dad's crap. I never knew how you did that… And you're stronger than me…
Yeah kid. You lived your life unafraid of what he would say. You dared to love and you … not like me. You never let it get too late to say… I wish I had told him Sammy… I wish I could tell you what really happened that night in the dungeon… I wish I could tell you how Cas was brave, and selfless and the best goddamned thing that ever happened to me and I was a coward, I was scared and selfish and to nobody’s surprise I let both of us down…
DEAN: Hey, did I ever tell you... Did I ever tell you that night that, uh... that I ca... That I came for you when you were at school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip? I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say… I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead…
I know I could never bring myself to tell you about him Sammy. Even if I wasn’t choking on my own blood, I still would never have enough time to tell you about how he made me wanna stay alive… He was it for me, and I can’t tell you that… But I can tell you about you!
DEAN: And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared. I was scared, 'cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me…
Sam is crying now, and well, what’s one more thing for me to hate myself for, right?
SAM: Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.
DEAN: Yes, you can.
Because I need you to…
SAM: Well, I don't want to.
Well, ain’t that a bitch? Kids feeding me my own words from all those years ago. Well, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s bullshitting. Hunting used to take the first place but after this colossal mess, I can’t really give myself that.
DEAN: Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you… Right here... every day. Every day you're out there and you're Li... And you're living and you're fighting, 'cause you… You always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there every step. I love you so much. My baby brother.
Oh, man. I can’t believe I’m crying too. Shit. I used to think at least when I die, I’d get to spend the rest of it with Cas… Not that I would ever be caught dead admitting it… Oh, well, doesn’t seem to matter now anyways.
DEAN: Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is. It is, and that's… Man... that's okay. I need you to... I need you to promise me. I need you to… To... to tell me... that it's okay. I need you to tell me that it's okay…
SAM: No!
Sam don’t look away from me. Please brother, I need you to let me go. Shit, what if I become a ghost? I mean, does never getting to say I love you to Cas count as unfinished business? Sure as hell sounds like it to me! Shit, Sam better burn all my stuff just to be sure.
DEAN: Look at me. Look at me. I need... I need to go Sammy… and I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me… Tell me it's okay.
SAM: No, goddammit Dean! No. I will never!
Uh-oh! Sammy’s letting go of me and I just don’t think that’s such a good idea. Should I tell him I can’t really feel my legs? Would be nice if I could be spared the embarrassment of a faceplant pre-death.
SAM: JACK! Jack, you better get down here and help me or so help me, I will make a way up there and… JACK! You fucking promised this wouldn’t happen! You said you would be a better god!
Ok, this might be a good time to tell Sammy to stop yelling and get moving, but the light behind him is pretty distracting and shit, man, I used to be able to focus before…
“Sam! Sam, I am here. There is no need for you to yell. What’s goin…” Jack finds himself in the middle of a barn, dead bodies of what seemed to be vampires littering the floor, and it’s not until Sam moves towards him that he spots the reason behind his calls.
“Oh Dean…” Just as he moves towards the older Winchester, Sam gets a hold of his shoulders and Jack feels his heart break for him. His eyes look hollow, as if it was him who was on the edge of death.
“Please… you have to do something! You have to save him! He’s not… please Jack!”
“Hey, Sam, Sam! If you let me take a look at Dean, I can try and help.”
Sam takes a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself, then nods once before stepping aside and Jack finally gets to look at Dean. It hasn’t been long since he left the brothers on earth and went to sort out the universe, but Dean seems to have aged decades.
“Dean?” He calls out once, but just as he thought, Dean’s out of his reach. At least, physically. He tries not to imagine all the self-deprecating jokes Dean must have come up with over being impaled by a rebar in a bar.
He tries and fails. Winchesters.
“Sam, help me pull him off the rod.” He knows just as well as Sam, that he does not need any help moving Dean’s body. They’re both aware of the pity he takes on Sam, letting him do something before he loses his mind for good.
“Ok, yeah, gently on the ground.” And before Dean’s body hits the ground, he is healed. He ignores the voice in his head, metaphorically speaking, accusing him of ignoring his own rules. What happened to being a hands off God? Well, this is DEAN!
“Jack, what are you waiting for? Heal him! Bring him back!”
“I have healed him, Sam.”
“Then why isn’t he waking up?”
Yeah, Jack was never a fan of the on brand Winchester’s lack of anger management. He pushes his annoyance aside and reaches for Dean’s soul.
Huh. Interesting. He’s fairly new to being God, but he’s got a good track record with resurrections and he’s pretty sure no soul has ever resisted being pulled back so hard.
Typical. Leave it to Dean fucking Winchester.
“It’s like he’s resisting his body’s pull. Sam, what happened here? What am I missing?”
“I… shit, Jack, I dunno. We were on a hunt, and we just rescued these kids and, he just wouldn’t let me get help, and he kept saying this is good, and he wants to go, and I … I didn’t know what else to do Jack…”
“Ok, ok, Sam, look at me. I need you to go and take care of the kids. I am going to try and find out where Dean is.”
He leaves the second part of that sentence unsaid. Why does he not want to live?
The sky is a beautiful blue/green, as Dean and Cas watch the sun set. Dean pushes his sunglasses up on his head, then holds Cas’ hand in his, and relishes in the sensation of their arms touching. Cas’ hot skin against his, contrasting with the ice cold drink in his other hand, makes him feel dizzy. Or is it the blood loss?
“What?” He asks, not really sure who he’s talking to.
“I didn’t say anything.” Cas replies. Taking a sip from his martini. The blue shirt brings out the ocean blue in his eyes, breathtakingly infinite.
“You know, you really do look good in floral patterns…” Dean’s not really sure why his heart aches at the exclamation. This has been the most flawless day, a long overdue vacation for just the two of them. Then why does it feel cold?
“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself, Dean.” Castiel studies him, and Dean immediately feels warmer. “I like your tan. And your sunglasses on your head. It makes it easier for me to see your eyes.”
The sheer openness with which Cas talks to him is enough to make Dean want to run away. But not here. It’s safe here. Why?
It’s almost easy for the words to fall out. “Yeah? What about my eyes?”
“They never lie to me… never have, never will…” Dean resists the urge to shy away.
“And what are they telling you now?”
“I’m sorry Dean, I will not make it that easy for you… If you want to tell me something, you have to say it yourself.” Cas says in a cheeky tone before looking away again.
“I know, I know that! I just... Ca–” Dean is interrupted by a sudden shock of pain. He drops to the floor, clutching his chest, crying out in pain. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen here… not here…
Castiel is staring at a figure behind him.
“Billie.”
“What? That’s impossible Cas!” But even as Dean’s fighting to get the words out through his pain, the world around them gets eerily darker, and all of a sudden they’re back at the bunker.
Cas grabs Dean by the shoulders and tries to guide him away. But Dean’s legs are cemented into the floor. He knows exactly where this leads, and he is not about to relive it.
“My heart... I can feel her.” He hears himself say. No, no no no. Go back to the beach. Please.
“Come on, Dean. We gotta go. Come on.”
Castiel pulls Dean away, almost carrying him through the bunker as Dean gasps and grunts in pain. Hold on to his arm.
At the bottom of the stairs now, Billie’s following them slowly.
“It's you, Dean. It's always been you. Death-defying. Rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame.”
Dean collapses beside the bookshelves just out of view, gripping his chest. Castiel looks over his shoulder where Billie still approaches.
“You are human disorder incarnate.”
No. I was ok to go this time. Please, I wanted to go… I was…
In the downstairs hallway now, Castiel's supporting Dean's weight with Dean's arm over his shoulders as he hurries him through the bunker, away from Billie. Dean clutches his heart, groaning in pain. Please, Cas, I don’t want to do this again… I can’t… Please, just let me go with her…
But nothing comes out of Dean’s mouth.
“I've got you Dean.”
They round another hallway corner, but not far behind them is Billie, still holding her scythe.
“Come on, Dean. You can't escape me.”
Dean wants to say he’s not trying to. He wants to scream and ask her to just take him. Anything to stop them from entering the dungeon. But Cas keeps dragging him, and Dean is not in control here.
Billie drags the blade of her scythe against the tile wall.
“Don't you think it's finally time? Time for the sweet release of death?”
Yes, I do…
Around another corner, Castiel guides Dean into basement storage room 7B and closes the door behind them. Dean coughs, still holding his chest as he doubles over. No no no no no.
Castiel finds a pocket knife in Dean's back pants pocket and uses it to cut his own palm. He uses the blood to paint warding onto the door. Dean wants to die.
Castiel turns towards him.
“It blocked her grip on you.”
Billie pounds her fist against the door. It shudders. The warding crackles, but holds. The slow pounding continues.
“Dean, she said that wound was killing her. Maybe we can wait her out.”
Yes, please, that’s a fantastic idea, let’s just wait her out.
“Yeah, and if we can't?”
“Then we fight.”
Yes, I will fight till my dying breath for you, just don’t go…
“We'll lose. I just led us into another trap, all because I couldn't hurt Chuck. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill, and because that's all I know how to do…”
“Dean…”
“It was Chuck all along. We shouldn't have left Sam and Jack. We should be there with them right now. Everybody's gonna die, Cas. Everybody.” You’re going to die… and “I can't stop it. She's gonna get through that door.”
“I know.”
“And she's gonna kill you, and then she's gonna kill me.”
Dean wishes he was already dead. He wishes he’d never said those words… He wishes…
They share a look. Castiel agrees, their situation is hopeless, but he can't bring himself to say it.
“I'm sorry.” and Dean’s never said any truer words.
“Wait, there is... There's one thing she's afraid of. There's one thing strong enough to stop her. When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.”
Dean wants to be mad at him, he really does, but he would make any deal, in a heartbeat, just to stop Cas from doing this. Who’s Dean to blame him?
“You what?”
“The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness, The Empty would be summoned, and it would take me forever.”
Dean Can’t breathe.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want... It's something I know I can't have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.”
Then just stay and be goddamnit! Dean should have just hit him in the head hard, should have knocked him out cold. He should have stopped Cas, right there and then.
“What are you talking about, man?”
“I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're daddy's blunt instrument. And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.”
Cas is crying and Dean is paralyzed. He’s as paralyzed as he was the first time around. And as paralyzed as every night ever since, lying in bed, reliving this moment over and over and over again.
“You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you.”
Yeah, and look where that got you…
“You changed me, Dean.”
Fuck you for doing this to me Cas…
“Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Please don’t say goodbye like this… Don’t say it…
“Because it is.”
It still lands like a punch to his guts, and Dean inhales, ready to argue, but Castiel confesses before he can.
“I love you.”
“Don't do this, Cas.” I love you too.
There's a wet noise from behind Dean and he turns to see black goo from The Empty squeezing through the bricks in the bunker's wall as a portal begins to open. They both know what this means. No more matching hawaiian shirts, no more tiny umbrella drinks, no more mix tapes, no more cowboy dressups, no more running away from their profound bond.
There are tears in Dean's eyes as he turns back to Castiel. Castiel is still smiling tearfully. I wish I could hate you… The warded door busts open. Billie stands behind it with her scythe. There's no more time.
“Cas…” don’t go… please just don’t go… I can’t go on without you…
Castiel puts his hand, bloodied from when he'd cut it for the warding, on Dean's shoulder. Right where he had laid hands on him for the first time all those years back in hell, and he might as well be throwing Dean back in hell with this.
“Goodbye, Dean.”
Castiel shoves Dean aside. He hits the floor beneath the portal. A handprint of Castiel's blood remains on the shoulder of his jacket. Billie enters the room. Castiel looks at Dean one last time, smiling, and inhales as the black liquid tendrils of The Empty wrap around him. The Empty crashes against Billie, pulling her in along with them. Dean wants to get up, wants to run over and hold on to Cas’ hand, keep him here, or go with him dammit, but instead he watches in shock as the portal to The Empty closes, and he's left alone, panting, stunned, gutted, heartbroken, empty.
Dean, who is still alone in the basement of the bunker, still sitting against the wall where Cas had pushed him. He’s impaled on the wall. He holds his cellphone in his hand as it vibrates, ringing again, and again, and again, he looks at it. "Incoming Call: Jack" He stares at it, then looks around, tears in his eyes. He drops the phone, leaving it to ring on the stone ground as he buries his face in his hands and begins to cry.
“DEAN!” Jack tries to break the memory again, reaching for Dean, but his father seems to be lost to his sorrows. He seems to be stuck in this horrible loop, and Jack had no idea what had really happened the night that Cas was taken. None of them did. Dean refused to talk about it, and Jack knows why now.
But if Dean just opens up to him, if he just picks up the phone and answers, Jack can reach him, and then he can tell Dean about where he’s been. He could tell Dean where he was when Sam called for him.
He could tell Dean that Castiel was back. That it had taken them weeks to help him get through the worst part of his trauma, but he was back, and he was safe, and he was recharging his batteries as Dean would say, and that he would soon be ready to come back to Dean.
But Jack needs Dean to make that choice, to take that leap, and to answer his fucking phone.
He’s not sure how many times he’s watched Dean go through his loop, sunset at the beach, then The Empty, how many times has he cried and felt his heart break for his dads, before he folds and accepts that Dean’s just not going to open up to him.
It’s not Jack that he wants.
And it’s not Sam. and it’s not Mary, or John, or Bobby, or anyone else.
It’s Castiel.
And when it comes down to it, it has always been Castiel.
And maybe, just like the first time around, it would take saving Dean from this hell, for Cas to find himself again.
“Hold on just a little longer Dean…” He says as he leaves for heaven. He has the perfect plan.
Dean holds his cellphone in his hand as it vibrates, ringing again, and again, and again, he looks at it. "Incoming Call: Castiel". He stares at it
The hell? Didn’t he just watch Cas be swallowed by The Empty? Doesn’t that mean he’s now in Gay Super Hell? Don’t be weird about the name ok? His brain’s been through a blender.
This has never happened before. Dean’s been through this loop a million times over, his own personal hell, and it’s always either Sam or Jack, calling and calling and …
But it says Castiel on the phone now. Dean puts the phone down, tries to take a deep breath, and pickles it up again.
"Incoming Call: Castiel"
He pinches himself. His tears have dried up, he feels the pinch, stares at the screen, still says Castiel’s name, he takes another deep breath.
Well, he’s been wanting a chance to change how it happened right?
Guess this is his brain taking pity on him. God(huh) knows he doesn’t deserve it, but fuck if he cares.
He’ll be damned before letting this chance go.
So he slides his finger on the phone, and puts the phone to his ear.
“C… Cas?”
Lights explode in his eyes, and he opens them to a familiar scene.
Well, mostly familiar.
He’s lying down on the barn floor, close to where the rebar is poking out of the pole, and right in front of him is Casfuckingtiel in his stupid trench coat, with his stupid perfect hair and his fucking blue eyes and he’s staring at Dean with all the worry in the world, as if it wasn’t him that was just swallowed by the fucking empty right in front of Dean’s very own fucking eyes.
Fuck.
“Dean?” Castiel barely gets the word out, and just like that, Dean’s zapped into movement. He feels wired, live electricity running through him, and he pointedly ignores Sam and, is that Jack, AKA God?
“Dean? Really? DEAN? That’s all you have to say to me? After putting me through… through that?” He’s only faintly aware of the fact that he’s on his legs, wobbly, he was literally stabbed in the back give him a break, and he steps forward, standing dangerously close to Castiel.
“Dean…”
“No! You’ve said all you had to say! It’s my turn you sadistic bastard!”
“Uh, Dean…” Sam tries to cut in.
“Shut up Sammy!” Back to Cas. “How DARE you! You don’t get to pull that shit with a human being Cas! You don’t get to wait ten whole fucking years, put them through the slowest burn of history, drag them along the whole god damned earth, in multiple universes, and declare your love in a selfless act of bravery and fuck off to the empty before said human gets a chance to reply! You hear me?”
“Dean, I understand you’re upset…”
“Upset? You selfish son of a bitch, you… I …”
“You do NOT get to call me selfish Dean! I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you! For YOU! And what do you do with it? You go around and get yourself killed on a hunt! A fucking vampire hunt Dean? Really? It hasn’t even been a year! Couldn't you have given my memory that little bit of respect and kept your sorry ass alive at least a year?”
“You just fucking left me there Cas! On the ground! With NOTHING! I had nothing! You didn’t even give me a chance to say it back, you asshole! WHat did you expect to happen? The fucker I’m in love with says the big I love you and then immediately is sent to Gay Super Hell and I’m left to pick up the pieces! How was I supposed to live with that? Did you even consider how that affected me Cas? When you made that deal, did you even for a second stop to ask yourself, what about that poor son of a bitch who’s been head over heels in love with me for the past decade?”
See, Dean has this bad habit of running his mouth when he’s angry. And it always gets the best of him. And it’s only when the silence falls that he realizes what he’s said. Well, shouted.
You know what they say, when in Rome…
“I love you, you stupid son of a bitch!” He clarifies, just in case Castiel missed it in all the shouting.
“What?” Castiel looks pale. Yeah, take that! Not so nice when you’re on the receiving end, is it?
“I love you! And I don’t want to be alive without you! You’re it for me Cas!” Dean’s not even sure at this point if this is life, or death, purgatory, heaven or hell, or the fucking empty. He just knows for some reason, somehow, Cas is standing in front of him, and it’s not a memory or a wish.
All of a sudden, Castiel launches towards him and before Dean knows it, his lips are pushed into Cas’ and oh my GOD, this is absolutely heaven.
He kisses Cas, for all the times he didn’t, all the times he wished he had the guts, and he kisses Cas with a vengeance. It takes a while, drunk in the feel and taste of Cas’ mouth, in between the sorrys, and the I love yous, and the I thought I’d never see you agains, before he decides that he needs to know.
“Cas… Is this real? Are you… are you real?”
“Yes, Dean. I don’t think I have ever been more real than I am at this moment…” Of course he has to make this sound romantic. Big doofus.
“But how?”
“Jack got me out… I, I wanted to come to you sooner but I wasn’t sure if you… Dean I didn’t know how you’d feel about me after what I said…”
“Well, I will be yelling at you some more for that later, but for now all I need you to know is I love you… and I need you to always come back to me Cas… Always!”
“I think I’d really rather stick around for good instead…”
“Well, that’s fine by me…”
*the end*
#I know#fix it#finale#supernatural#fuck gay super hell#fuck the empty#give dean his angel back#hawaiian shirts#matching obviously
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RoC Ashfur plot Idea!
Here’s my idea for Ash so far! very much so up for change!
this is very long so I'm gonna cut it here!
Ash is a very spiteful very obsessive character, his youth was full of horrid things that led to the way he acts and his view of the world. His mother was murdered, and his father was darkstripe, who had little care for his kits, as he only had them to carry on his bloodline. Dark betrayed Thunder Order and did not care that his kits could be harmed by his decisions, nor did he care that their mother was murdered. This deeply effected Ash, and things only got worse when his friends Swift and Bright were mauled by the dogs, and Swift died. Ash was glad to help destroy the dogs, and he never moved past his enjoyment of revenge, nor did he ever move past the rage he felt for what had happened in his youth.
Ash in many ways believed that after everything, he deserved the world, he believed that he should rise in the ranks, he should become a respected cat, he should get a perfect mate, and he should get a perfect life. of course sure, any good cat should get this, but life cant always play out how you want it to.
Ash fell for Squirrelflight, she was the leader’s beautiful daughter who had helped fulfil a prophecy, and he desperately wanted her to be his mate. The he was obsessed with the idea of a perfect family with her, maybe one day he could be leader and she could be his deputy... He ad Squirrel dated for a while (in RoC I've decided that Squilf and Bramble don't date/ become mates until after Bramble quits being deputy) but after a while Squirrel realizes that it just isn't working out/it isn't a good match, and Ash’s ideas for the future aren't what she has in mind, so she breaks up with him. This destroys Ash, it makes him even more spiteful, “how dare she not love me? don't i deserve it??” is his mentality.
Ash, like i said, loves revenge, so when the River Deputy Hawkfost (who had started to speak with and get close to him once Squirrel had broken up with ash) revealed a plan to kill Firestar, Squirrelflight’s father, Ash was happy to help. Hawk could help him get power, and could help him get revenge, due to this Ash's new BFF (maybe boyfriend??) and obsession is Hawkfrost.
The Kill Firestar plan goes well on Ashfur’s end, but Brambleflower is not happy to learn of Hawk’s plan, and the two brothers end up fighting, Hawk is deeply injured and has to run away, allowing Bramble to free Firestar from the trap. Hawkfrost would have died from his injuries if Ash hadnt been there, Ash ran to find him and brought Hawk back to River Order to be healed. Ash had a new cat to hate, Brambleflower, he had betrayed and almost killed his beloved Hawkfrost!
When Ash returned to Thunder Order after saving Hawk, he was faced with seeing Brambleflower renouncing his role as Deputy, refusing to go down a path in pursuit of power. Firestar accepts this and allows Bramble to be a warrior again, he then promotes Ash to Deputy, not knowing of what role he had played in Hawk’s attempt of Fire’s life, and believing him to be a strong willed and moral cat, who his daughter Squirrel had trusted, even if they had not stayed a couple. Ash is overjoyed by this! This is what he deserves, this it the respect he should get! maybe Firestar wasn't killed, but now Ash was deputy instead of Bramble!
Ash’s deputyship lasts for a while, and he continues to be in kahoots with Hawk. Hawk loves that Ash is now deputy, maybe Brambleflower will not be leader, but now he has Ashfur on his side, and Ash is extremely loyal to Hawk and absolutely obsessed with him, so he is easy to use and manipulate.
Hawk becomes leader of River Order probably between the second and third arc, while Ash stays deputy of Thunder. That is until Sandstorm suddenly returns from being assumed dead! Immediately it is assumed that Sand will take back over being deputy, Firestar is overjoyed to have his mate back, and he desperately wants her to be his second again. Ash is enraged, but the Order all believe he should stop being deputy, Sand is an older and just overall better deputy than Ash, and so Ash is practically shoved out of the position. New point to Ashfur’s reasons to go full evil and hate the entire Fire family list.
this is where my plans get a bit more blurry, as I dont have many ideas planned out for Po3..
Ashfur plans with Hawkstar in the background, Hawkstar becomes more and more of a threat, and at this point we don't realize that Ashfur is on his side, he just seems to be a grumpy warrior, who is mad about loosing his deputy position. but Ash helps Hawk in lots of his plans to harm Thunder Order, and eventually Ash and Hawk come up with a plan to start a fire on Thunder’s territory, after which Ash will leave Thunder and become Hawk’s deputy in River Order.
Ash is the one to start the fire, and he is over joyed! At this point he has so much pent up hate and blame towards the entirety of Thunder Order that he feels as though he is finally getting his true deserved vengeance against them. During the fire he finds Squrrelflight and her three children, and he faces off against her, not allowing her and her kits to cross the tree that would allow their escape, he does not want them to survive this. Squirrel screams at him asking why he would do this, and this is when he reveals his whole villain origin story, and we find out that he has been helping Hawkstar the whole time. Ash claims that Squirrel is the one to start this all, she is at fault for the path he went down, and he hates her the most!
Ash is about to attack Squirrel wanting to send her plummeting into the flames, when he remembers something he learned from Hawkstar about the 3.... he realizes that if he drops this bomb he will cause Squirrelflight’s perfect life (that he should have had!) fall apart at the seams! And so instead of attempting to kill Squirrel, he reveals that her kits are not her own but are instead half Order, and not only that, born from medicine cats! at this Squirrelflight leaps at Ash fighting him, and trying to make a way for her kits to escape. they both roll off the fallen tree, Ash plummets into the fire below, while Squirrel hangs onto the tree, she is dragged up by Lionblaze, while Ash burns below.
Ashfur against all odds does not die from this, he escapes and lives out of pure spite. and the next time he is seen, he is now the heavily scarred deputy of River Order. I kinda want him to get a new name after this like Scourchedash or something but idk..
I think I will still have Hollyleaf kill Ash, but im not sure how, maybe in battle??? like i said I haven't figured out Po3 yet so all of this is up for change and such! I haven't even figured out how Sol plays into all this!
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The Avenger & Baron of Sokovia
Thank you so much to @sagyunaro for coming up with this idea! I wrote too much to fit into a one shot so I’m splitting this into two parts!
Part One:
Part Two:
You can find this on my A03 as well: Anti_Social_Teen
Word Count: 2,818
What happened that horrible day in Sokovia affected you more than any other mission you had been on in your time with the Avengers. You had seen death, had seen destruction, narrowly avoided it every second of your life but as you lay on the ground of Novi Grad that day, trying so hard to keep the chunk of Sokovia close to the ground with your telekinetic abilities it became too much. You vividly remembered placing yourself close to the middle of the rising piece of Earth that Ultron was going to use like an atomic bomb to wipe out billions of innocent lives.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, running over to you.
“I’m going to try and put it back down!” you replied, standing your ground. Wanda had come over with her brother Pietro, watching you with interest.
“Isn’t that what FRIDAY explained to us. The higher it goes the bigger the blast radius,” you said. Steve nodded, worry filling his face but you gave him a brave smile. Closing your eyes in concentration, your hands filled with dark green energy, tendrils beginning to snake down into the ground as it continued to rise. “I got this! Go!” you instructed them. It had felt like hours, you had never pushed yourself to these limits before and couldn't stop yourself from falling to your knees before you knew it your body collapsed completely but you persisted, your whole body and the area around you glowing green. Vaguely you could hear the others try to reach you but you shook your head silently, tears streaming down your face in pain and frustration, blood seeping out of your nose as you remained glued to the ground.
The guilt of your weakness spread like a poison in your body, you weren't strong enough and by the end it didn't help when Novi Grad fell. They had told you that you had kept it at half the height it was supposed to be at, that your telekinetic energy had kept most of the big debris from falling but you ignored their voices of reason. It was Thor who had found you floating in the sea, passed out but cocooned by your powers. Numbness engulfed your body the instant you had awakened and you watched silently for the next few days as decisions were made on how the cleanup and relief would proceed. The answer became clear to you for what you needed to do next.
“You don’t have to stay,” Steve murmured, placing his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner.
“Who will I be if I don’t,” you replied sadly. Steve could see how much this meant to you, so he gave you a warm strong hug before walking off to the Quinjet to return to the Compound leaving you in Sokovia. The terms of your stay were strictly humanitarian, to help cleanup the destruction, your identity kept a secret. Only around official Stark Relief Foundation workers did you use your telekinetic powers in the worst part of the devastation. With a solemn look in your eyes you waved your hands, slowly lifting chunks of peoples homes, their belongings falling into the ash and rubble. After a few hours of this you would walk around, picking up trinkets, photos, anything you could recover. You’d return to your small apartment Tony had gotten you, and cleaned them as best you could with your kit of brushes before returning them to the main headquarters where refugees and survivors could seek help. It was only supposed to be a week but you stayed longer. It was mainly your guilt that kept you tied to Sokovia but soon you felt yourself growing connected to the suffering country. It was another day at the Stark Relief Foundation building, you were slowly picking up Sokovian, Wanda had even facetimed you for a few hours each night trying to teach you some phrases. It was mostly silent, somber in this wing of the building where survivors would arrive, where recovered bodies were documented. Slowly your eyes caught sight of a distraught man a few feet away.
“He just found his family in the rubble,” Lana murmured to you, eyes glancing at the man who sat a few chairs away. She brought out a clipboard but you took it gently from her hands.
“I got this,” you replied and she gave you a grateful smile before walking off. With a sigh you walked over to the man, who was covered in dust.
“Hi. Ahoj,” your soft voice broke through the wall of silence the man had created around himself. It took him a few seconds to lift his head finally and the look of heartbreak on his face made a lump form in your throat.
“My name is (Y/N). I’m a volunteer and I’m going to help you fill out some forms,” you said, taking a seat next to him. “English or Sokovian?” you asked. “English is fine,” he finally spoke, coughing to clear his throat. Giving him a sympathetic look, you passed him a handkerchief from your pocket which he took gratefully.
“I know this is a difficult time but I’m here to help with whatever you need. We will help you find shelter, get food and financial assistance and help with the death certificates of your family,” you explained. The way you spoke to him was unusual, straightforward but kind. It was the custom to speak formally almost coldly to strangers, but there was a softness in your eyes. “So what is your name?” you asked.
“Zemo. Helmut Zemo,” he replied. Giving him a small smile you brought out your pen and got to work. In the next few days you came to realize that Helmut Zemo was not just any ordinary citizen, he was a Baron. Even as Sokovia continued to crumble at the institutional level, Helmut played an active part in donating funds to the local organizations. He became a familiar face, always an active presence during the day and after a few weeks of working together you could comfortably call him a friend. You still didn’t reveal your true identity, there was a growing sentiment from some in Sokovia against the Avengers but overall most people were grateful you all had saved the world. You still struggled with guilt of course but things were becoming easier. Spending time with Helmut was peaceful, he would often read aloud to you when you spent time at each other's apartments after a long day of work. Even with his wealth he chose a modest apartment a few blocks from yours. Things always remained strictly friendly, both of you keeping conversations light and rarely bringing up your origins or past life. It became a comfort to listen to his Sokovian accent, look into those captivating brown eyes. Helmut often felt the start of a warm feeling in his chest when he heard your airy laugh after his terrible jokes but he forced himself to suppress the feeling. Just when you thought it would be a good idea to open up to him, to begin to reveal your true identity that was all shattered the moment you entered his apartment one evening.
It was dark, only the crackling fire from the fireplace providing a light source. He stood back turned to you, hunched over the fire a glass of whiskey clenched in his hand.
“Helmut?” you whispered, closing the door softly behind you so as to not startle him.
“You’re an Avenger,” Helmut whispered, and when he turned around you saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Anger and hatred, it was amplified by the reflection of flames in his eyes.
“Who told you?” you asked, trying to stay calm but your heart pounded beneath your shirt.
“I heard the Stark Relief Foundation workers talking about you. How Stark was coming to visit you soon,” he sneered. “Is it true?” Helmut asked. Wordlessly you lifted your hand twisting it summoning your telekinetic energy. That was all he needed, he began shaking his head a dark laugh coming from his mouth. “What is this then? Why are you here?” Zemo snapped, pacing close to the fireplace.
“I stayed to help,” you began but he threw his glass against the wall, shattering the glass cup. It stunned you, making you jump in place.
“Help,” he said coldly.
“Helmut please let me explain-,” you tried to say, your voice wavering with emotion.
“No! You played a part in it! You’re the reason why my family is dead!” Helmut screamed. Those last words hit you like a slap in the face, face falling as your heart seemed to crack right down the middle. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and before you knew it all the guilt and shame and memories hit you like a ton of bricks. There was no use in trying to say something, when you opened your mouth no words came out. Helmut made no attempt to move towards you, no attempt to take back his words as you turned away and stumbled out of the door. Heavy sobs began to slip out of your mouth, as memories flashed in your head, the screams of the innocent civilians, the bodies of the dead. Through tears you made your way back to your apartment, packed and left Sokovia that same night.
You didn’t return to the Compound after that, choosing to stay in Switzerland in a home that Tony owned and had let you stay in. He felt for you, as did the others on the team as much as they wanted you to return to them. This is where you stayed in solitude and when the Accords were announced you had made no attempt to be a part of the rift between Steve and Tony. You thought it was ridiculous and when you were summoned by Ross you ignored the summons and remained secluded. It wasn’t until it was all over that you were granted a loose term of conditions to keep your freedom even though you hadn’t done anything. It shocked you, when you found out what Helmut had done, the plan he orchestrated. How could the kind man from Sokovia become so full of hatred and vengeance? You knew his wife, son and father had died. You had been the one to fill out their death certificates but never could you imagine it would end like this. He was often on your mind as best as you tried to shake him off but he had made an impact on your life. It wasn’t until one sunny morning that you received an unexpected call.
“Hello?” you answered the phone as you stirred the sugar into your tea.
“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?,” the German voice asked.
“Yes. Who are you?” you asked a bit suspiciously.
“I’m Warden of the Berlin Detention Center where Helmut Zemo is being kept. He’s asked to meet with you and we would normally deny this request but seeing as you are an Avenger-,” the Warden began but you cut him off.
“I was an Avenger,” you corrected but he continued.
“It is up to you if you would like to see him. If not I can tell him his request was denied,” he finished. A strange feeling filled you, why bother seeing him? He hated you, tore your family apart in revenge. But then you thought about the hurt and pain you both faced in Sokovia.
“I’ll be there in 48 hours,” you finally said into the phone. Even after he had hung up you stayed there by the kitchen counter, tears silently flowing down your cheeks.
Following the armed guards you clutched your purse tightly, the nerves finally hitting you at what you were about to do. It felt like you were in a dream as the door slid open, revealing a dark cell with a glass wall and a chair in front of it. There was no movement from the cell as you sat down on the chair they provided you, you actively avoided Helmut’s gaze, setting your bag down. You kept your eyes trained on the piece of lint on your jeans until he finally spoke up breaking the silence, but there was tension.
“Will you not look at me (Y/N)?” that rich Sokovian voice that haunted your dreams asked.
“I didn’t think you’d want to look into the face of your family’s killer,” you said, the words sounded harsher than you intended. By the time you looked up to meet his eyes, Helmut’s face was a vision of regret.
“I should have never said those things to you,” Helmut said, coming closer to the wall that separated him from you. He looked differently from the last time you had seen him, he looked defeated. His chestnut hair was tousled, stubble beginning to grow on his jawline.
“Yet you did and never gave me a chance to explain,” you snapped crossing your arms.
“My anger was misplaced. I see that now,” Helmut began. “I saw the footage, what they had recovered. The way you tried to save Novi Grad,” Helmut said, emotion filling his voice.
“We tried to save Novi Grad,” you interrupted, even if you could see how the Avengers held responsibility, you weren’t going to allow him to slander your family. Helmut grimaced at your words. “Why did you ask me here?” you snapped, eyes hardening. Helmut inched closer to the glass, nervously running his hands through his hair.
“I’ve been contemplating what I’ve done. I realized that even if you had not been involved I hurt you and you didn’t deserve that especially after what I did to you in Sokovia,” Helmut said. Lifting your brow you allowed him to continue.“If you let me I would like to explain myself, not excuse myself. I want to tell you everything,” Helmut said. It felt like torture for Helmut, every second waiting for your response.
“Alright. I’ll listen,” you finally said, leaning back into your chair. The faintest smile filled Helmut’s face as he began his story. In the weeks and months that passed by, it became a weekly occurrence to meet him. Berlin wasn’t too far from where you resided in Switzerland, the train ride was a part of your weekly routine now. When Tony had called you, expressing his concern at your visitations you explained that this was purely rehabilitation, for both you and Helmut. He wasn’t entirely convinced but he couldn’t stop you, not even Steve when he tracked you down to talk to you.
“(Y/N),” Steve greeted, surprising you in the alleyway by your apartment. “Steve! Christ you scared me,” you snapped, holding a hand to your heart. Giving him a stern look he chuckled.
“Are you going to see Zemo?” Steve asked.
“Yes. Are you here to try and stop me?” you asked, tilting your head.
“I just want to make sure he’s not using you, manipulating you,” Steve sighed. “Don’t you trust me Steve?” you asked, stepping closer to him.
“I don’t trust him,” Steve replied.
“He was in the wrong. I know that Steve but everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves, a second chance. You of all people should understand that,” you said. Steve stared down at you with those intense blue eyes but he knew you were right. Giving you a strong hug he retreated back into the shadows.
“What are you thinking of miláčik?” Helmut whispered one day as you listened to him read a book on Russian history. History was something you both enjoyed so you would bring books every week for him. Heat rose in your cheeks at the way he called you darling but you shrugged.
“How much I enjoy spending time with you. Even in this prison,” you murmured. Helmut smiled, feeling a joy he seldom felt since his family had perished.
“I wish there wasn’t this glass between us,” Helmut said, but his tone surprised you. It was almost sad, and when you met his eyes there was something new in them. This was your chance, to admit your growing feelings for Helmut. Helmut watched you lean forward, giving him a closer view of your face. It was constantly in his dreams, your eyes his new favorite color.
“Helmut I-,” you began to say, eyes full of adoration and sincerity but the words became stuck in your throat. Helmut’s confusion at your loss of words turned into horror as you slowly became dust, eyes wide with fear. The last thing he saw was your glowing green hand outstretched trying to reach him as he slammed his body against the glass, voice screaming your name until you were nothing. He was stuck in his cell of helplessness and loss, and that is how he stayed for five more years.
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Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!
Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!
Source: Me
Finished Fanfics:
Multi-chaptered Fanfics:
that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know
Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.
The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.
Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?
in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade
Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.
MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!
you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon
Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.
(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)
+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one
Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.
Responsible Forever by SilverWing15
“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////
“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”
“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”
“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”
“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”
“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.
Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion
Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons
Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent
Sam blinks. “What?”
Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”
Sam is going to be sick.
Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.
Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh
Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable
After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.
It takes a war to bring him back.
+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending
Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream
Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum
“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.
The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.
Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices
Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.
Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)
Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.
To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.
This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.
Part of a series, very good.
Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias
Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.
AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.
Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.
I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale
The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern
“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”
Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.
This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous
Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?
(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)
Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.
let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun
Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.
Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.
Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15
Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.
Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.
He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.
Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.
One-Shots:
Snapped by AmberRunnel
“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”
Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.
“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”
-|-
Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.
It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.
It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.
the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution
An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.
He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.
You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia
"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."
Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.
Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.
Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.
"Kill me."
Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.
Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.
tomorrow night by meridies
Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.
or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.
It's cute what can I say :]
maple syrup by itisjosh
"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."
"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."
(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)
Children get away from toxic adults :)
Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe
‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’
To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.
Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.
sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa
“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”
Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.
It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.
a matter of time by meridies
Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."
or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.
Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.
That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust
Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.
At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.
Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.
Part of a collection!! Read it all.
spider lily by blue000jay
Wilbur has a body.
The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.
(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)
The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(
Hands tied loose by rabiddog
"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."
-
Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.
But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.
Unhappy ending :(
The serpent underneath by rabiddog
Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)
-
“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”
:((((((((
Damning choices by rabiddog
Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.
Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.
It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.
-
"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."
:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((
Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog
Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.
He doesn't care at all.
-
"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"
:)
Word of Honour by rabiddog
Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.
-
Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)
Almost canon. F.
Sweet Repentance by rabiddog
Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.
Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.
-
Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.
Tommy dies painfully.
A White Tulip by astervoid
He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.
Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.
lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass
"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”
Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.
~
It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.
The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.
Dear Theseus by rabiddog
Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.
-
“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?
Tommy almost wins.
A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman
How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?
The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
How could he have known this would happen?
-
Sequel to A Child's World
Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.
heart of the sea by RyDyKG
Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:
Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.
Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.
He knows, ok? by Ralli
By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.
Very, very cute :)
that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat
Tommy has always been the fighter.
He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.
If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.
---
Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.
Messed up, but with a happy ending.
Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog
Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.
He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.
-
Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.
I love this author if you can't tell.
Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy
The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.
At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.
“Tommy?”
And then Tubbo turns to look at him.
Clingyduo fluff.
sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter
The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.
Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.
SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.
Sad, but cathartic.
REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit
i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST
this is different from what i usually post but it was fun
i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!
What it says on the tin- not really a fic.
Unfinished Stories:
Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):
Over the River Styx by CorpseArt
I feel like we should name him.
There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.
I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.
He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?
I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.
-
Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.
Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.
If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions
“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.
It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.
Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523
Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.
OR
In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.
Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.
A Talk Long Overdue by penink
Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.
Tommy gets therapy.
Into the Night by Interjection
“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”
They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.
“But why?”
Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.
“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”
“And I don’t want to come back.”
Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.
But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.
---
(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.
A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)
Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.
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Griffin Callenreese comes back from California as soon as physically possible - that is, the absolute second Jessica’s sister agrees to come watch Michael, he’s out the door in a mad dash to the airport.
He got the call from Max, across the country in New York, this morning. Aslan is missing. Aslan is missing, and weird magic is afoot, and all Griffin can think is that he can’t lose his baby brother. Not again.
The entire flight is mind-numbingly boring, and takes fucking forever. As it turns out, it’s impossible to focus on a book, movie, or podcast while stressed out of one’s mind because of a missing baby brother. Who would have thought!
It’s fine, Griffin tells himself, and downs yet another coffee. It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine. It’ll all be fine.
Since Max is all tied up in a work engagement until evening, Eiji said he’d pick Griffin up from the airport, and Griffin can stay at his place until Max is free. Which is all well and good on paper, but (no offense to Eiji) Griffin isn’t staying there. He’s gonna drop off his backpack and hit the streets. Surely there must be some sign of where Aslan went. He wouldn’t just disappear. He wouldn’t.
“So, um,” Eiji says, hesitating, as they climb out of the subway station. It’s pouring outside, all the streets glittering with dark puddles reflecting the city lights. “There is, uh... one slight complication about you staying over this evening?”
Wearily, Griffin raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“I have. Um. Another... visitor?” Eiji fidgets with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “It is... uh... he is friendly! I just... uhm... I think it will be easier to just show you what I mean, actually. Please just... no sudden movements?”
“What,” Griffin says, but Eiji isn’t any more forthcoming, so he just sighs, hefts his backpack, and follows him.
As soon as Eiji turns his key in the lock, there’s a thump from the other side of the door. It swings open, and Griffin has only a brief instant to lock eyes with the very, very familiar lynx perched on the armrest of the sofa--
Aslan yowls and leaps at him, sprinting the few meters between the sofa and the front door as Eiji shouts in alarm. For once in his life, though, Aslan pays Eiji no mind, zooming right past him to wind frantically around Griffin’s legs over and over. He rubs himself against Griffin’s knees, butts his head against Griffin’s hand, and mews desperately, and Griffin finally gets his wits about him again and leans down to scoop him up.
As a human, Aslan has gotten too big to carry around easily. But as a lynx, he’s only around thirty or forty pounds, depending on the season, and it’s like carrying him around as a toddler again. He burrows into Griffin’s shoulder and begins purring almost immediately, but these... aren’t his happy purrs. These are his self-soothing purrs, and the utter relief of knowing where he is gets pushed aside by a sharp pang of worry.
“What is it?” he asks softly, as Aslan gently bonks his forehead into the side of Griffin’s head. “Everyone’s worried. What happened? Why are you...?”
Aslan mews pitifully and gives Griffin big, sad, soulful eyes--the same eyes he used to have when he accidentally tore a teddy bear and pleaded with Griffin to repair it. These are the eyes that say you’re my big brother, you can fix it, right?
“Oh, kit-kat,” Griffin murmurs, realizing. He can’t turn back. Something happened, and he can’t turn back.
Well, it’s not great, but at least he’s safe. And unharmed. Just... cursed. That’s something.
“What is happening,” Eiji asks, staring at them both with utter bewilderment written plain across his face. “What the hell.”
...Oh. He doesn’t know. Right. Griffin is so used to being around Max, his closest confidant, that sometimes he forgets that not everyone knows that the Callenreeses are a shapeshifter family.
With his arms full of fuzzy, purring, distressed baby brother, Griffin can’t place a reassuring hand on Eiji’s shoulder as he tries to explain. All he can do is offer a wry little smile as he hefts Aslan’s weight in his arms.
“Well,” he says, “I found Ash.”
“What?!” Eiji’s jaw drops, and he stares incredulously at the lynx in Griffin’s arms. Griffin expects a bit of protest or disbelief, or something, but instead, Eiji just throws up his hands. “I should have known. I cannot believe you.”
“Most people don’t usually take that revelation so well,” Griffin remarks, hefting Aslan in his arms again.
Eiji, apparently already adjusted to the fact that Aslan is now a giant cat, just gives Aslan a look that can only be described as dour. “He stole the last shrimp from my dinner,” he sniffs. “He is just as rude as always.”
“Aslan,” Griffin sighs.
Aslan lets out the most pathetic little peep Griffin has ever heard.
“Give him here,” Eiji says, and holds out his arms. “I was worried, and this asshole is just stealing my dinner. I am going to hug him to death.”
Aslan’s ears flick, but he lets Griffin pass him over with no protest. He latches onto Eiji immediately, burrowing into his neck and shoulder, and starts up his purrs again, and Griffin sighs softly, exhausted and relieved. Eiji nuzzles Aslan right back, and even kisses the top of his fuzzy head.
“I was so worried about you,” Eiji murmurs. Aslan just purrs harder. Griff, meanwhile, just sets down his backpack and tries to think: what could have cursed Aslan to being bound to only one form? He’s a shapeshifter! That goes against his very nature.
And yet...
One thing is certain: God, is Griff gonna have a wild update to tell Max soon.
#lynx ash au#this time ft. big bro!#callenreese bros#asheiji#written#who knows what ash managed to get himself into here. i sure dont#i simply had the need to type up Large Cat Acts Like Fuckimg Baby#rimi talks
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Shot Glasses and Shadows
Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester
Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 2,011
Warnings: slight self-harm, mention of blood
Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, Abandon All Hope Coda, Mentioned Jo Harvelle, grief/ mourning
Summary: Dean struggles with the aftermath of Abandon All Hope. Castiel is there to help.
Read it on Ao3 here
It’s the moments between hunts where Dean starts to lose his balance. When there’s no monster to fight, and the adrenaline pounding through his limbs fades away.
There are things he can do to stop it. He can make dinner runs while he tries to list the name of every song he’s ever put on a mixtape, or blast the radio until the speakers crackle, or sprint until his lungs burn. As long as he keeps moving he can fight it off. But as flames lick the glossy edges of the closest thing to a send-off they can give Jo and Ellen, all Dean can do is root his feet to the ground and watch.
He doesn't walk away from the fire until the photograph is reduced to ash. The crumbling of Jo’s gentle features is almost beautiful here. He wonders if Jo could feel the flames in her last moments. If she still believed her death meant something. If it felt beautiful.
“I’m going to clean up.”
“Dean you don’t-” Sam follows his gaze to the cluster of shot glasses still spread across the table, not finding the right words until his brother is already gone. Sam knows better than to follow.
It shouldn’t take him more than fifteen minutes to finish the kitchen, but Dean’s limbs are heavy with guilt and the half bottle of whiskey he’s already downed. He’d expected it to feel different to be back here. Everything warm and homey and right should have burned up with Ellen and Jo, but Bobby’s kitchen somehow missed the memo. This is still the same place they’d laughed and drank and squeezed out smiles around the dread no amount of alcohol could quite wash away just the night before. It’s Dean who’s out of place. He shouldn’t be here, surrounded by a past already so long gone it aches. It’s going to collapse in on him at any second.
The first shot glass that shatters against the hardwood floor is an honest-to-god accident. Dean lets the second roll out of the crook of his elbow, watching with the closest thing to satisfaction he can muster as broken glass dusts his boots. The third, he smashes into the worn countertop. He feels the blood pooling under his palm before he registers the glass wedged there. It brings a sick, bubbling laugh to the back of his throat.
He’s watching the blood run along the edge of a fourth glass, rolling it over in his palm when a hand appears on his shoulder.
“Dean,” The unmistakable crunching of dress shoes on glass pulls Dean back to reality. “You’re injured.”
Dean tosses the shot glass in his hands into the sink, almost disappointed when it doesn’t shatter. He shrugs Castiel’s hand off his shoulder, doing his damn best to ignore how cold he feels at the tiny loss of contact. Cas has that effect on people. That warm sort of feeling that starts deep in your chest and spreads to your fingertips until it feels like everything might be alright. Sam feels it too, Dean’s sure, but it doesn’t seem to be burning him up from the inside the way it does Dean. The relief he feels when Cas grabs his shoulder again is humiliating. He wipes it clean off his face before Cas can turn him around.
“You’re bleeding, Dean,” there’s more force to it this time. Dean stares expectantly, waiting for the feeling of grace stitching the fibres of his hand together, but nothing comes. Cas’s eyes fall to the floor. “I’m...going to get the first-aid kit.”
“So, what? Not going to mojo me back together? Cas, is there something you want to tell me?” He squares his shoulders, taking a step toward Cas. Of course something’s wrong. Not even an angel of the lord could get that close to Lucifer and come out unscathed.
“Because if something happened, something that we should know about, you better spit it out before it gets someone killed,” Dean closes the distance between him and Cas, staring down with what he hopes reads as more malice than concern and waits. Cas should be snapping back at him or threatening to throw him back to hell or something but he’s just standing there, gaze cast at the floor.
“It’s not important. It won’t affect my ability to help in your fight against the devil,” Dean turns away with a scoff just loud enough for Cas to hear. Somewhere deep beneath two hours worth of whiskey he knows he’s trying to start a fight, but he doesn’t care.
Even turned away, Dean can feel Cas’ gaze burning into his back. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to do something useful?” He nods in the direction of the library where every piece of lore they could find is still strewn out on the desk. The words taste bitter on Dean’s tongue, but if it gets Cas to do something, anything, other than stand there and stare straight into Dean’s soul (Maybe literally. Dean hopes not) it will be worth it.
Dean doesn’t turn around until the footsteps have faded from the kitchen. He drops the remaining shot glasses into the sink and kicks Jo’s chair in as an afterthought on his way out the door.
Sam and Bobby are nowhere to be seen, no doubt already tucked away in their respective rooms trying to figure out how to get through the night. Dean doesn't bother asking how they got Bobby up to his old room now that the sofa has been temporarily dragged back to its place in the library. He suspects Cas had something to do with it.
The fire is little more than embers when Cas comes back around the corner, battered first-aid kit in hand. Dean’s stomach churns. He should apologize.
“Throw another log on.”
Again, Castiel fixes him with that stupid, sympathetic, stare and does as he’s asked.
“You’re grieving.”
Dean almost laughs. “Really, Cas? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You shouldn’t try to stop it. It won’t help,” Cas settles on the sofa and unpacks the kit, examining the contents carefully while he lays them out on the end table.
That old rage bubbles up in Dean's chest again. “So what am I supposed to do, huh? Just sit here and moan about it in the middle of the friggin’ apocalypse? We have work to do, Cas. Stow the Vincent Grey crap.”
“Give me your hand.”
He thinks about arguing. About trying again to stir up some kind of fight just to feel something other than hollow for a few seconds. Angry is easier. Safer. But then, this is Cas. He knows every atom of Dean’s body and can recite his earliest memories like the goddamn pledge of allegiance. There’s no point hiding. He lets some of the tension holding up his body seep back into the floor.
Cas is more gentle than Dean can handle. All calloused hands and careful touches that are anything but clinical. Letting him in is frighteningly easy. It’ll be letting him go when he finally realizes the Winchesters and all their problems aren't worth the effort that will be like pulling stitches.
“They trusted me,” It’s barely a whisper, but Dean’s throat closes around the words. “They trusted me, and I led them to their deaths.”
“You did the best you could. They knew the risks,” There’s a strain in Cas’ voice Dean has never heard before.
Dean’s eyes are burning. He can’t bring himself to meet Cas’ gaze until a thumb swipes across his cheek, brushing away the tears there. For once he finds himself thanking god in all his infinite absence that Cas doesn’t realize the intimacy of the gesture “You did the right thing, Dean. You tried.”
There’s a weight to his words that Dean can’t quite pin down, the teary smile plastered on his face making Dean want to either wrap his arms around Cas or make a break for it. He shoots for somewhere near a more reasonable middle.
“Are you uh…” Dean is struck very suddenly by just how bad he is at this, But he has to try. It’s Cas. “Are you holding out okay?”
“Human grief is different. It’s...heavier”
If tearing down heaven brick by brick could pull that weight off Cas, Dean would do it in a second. It terrifies him how far he’s willing to go.
“Yeah.”
The mess of bandages Cas eventually manages to secure around Dean’s hand isn’t pretty, but it’s a relief. He tosses the bloody glass in a trash bin and dries his now clean hands on an embroidered dish towel that may have been colourful twenty years ago. “I’ll leave you to rest.”
He’s halfway to the door by the time Dean swallows his pride enough to say something. “Cas, wait. Have you - eaten anything? It’s been a long day.”
“I don’t eat.”
Dean spends the longest ten seconds of silence in his life wondering if he could bore a hole through the floor with his eyes to crawl into. This may be the dumbest excuse he’s ever come up with, which is not an easy title to win.
“Are you asking me to stay?”
Maybe it’s the whiskey clouding his mind or the idea of spending the rest of the night drinking his way through whatever’s left of his liver alone that finally snaps a cord in Dean. He sinks back into the couch, exhaustion taking over.
“Please.”
With a creak of old springs and cushions creasing just enough for Dean to slide, Cas is back on the couch, a good few inches closer than the last time. Of course, it doesn't mean anything. Cas is an angel. He can’t understand the way the closeness makes Dean’s heart leap out of his chest. But the way he presses his shoulder against Dean’s is distinctly and undeniably human. He doesn’t want to be alone either.
The next few hours drift by in near silence, broken only by offers of whiskey and the occasional non-committal remark. When Dean’s eyes slip closed, his head lolling against Cas’ shoulder, Cas doesn’t try to wake him.
Once Dean does finally open his eyes, it’s with a pounding headache, and his face pressed against the rough fabric of Cas’ shirt. Through the fog of sleep Dean slowly becomes aware of his limbs tangled with Cas’ where they’ve sprawled across the sofa. He’s a split second away from launching himself onto the floor when he registers Cas’ hand resting loosely against Dean’s back. The slow tide of his breathing. He can’t be asleep but Dean’s never seen him this relaxed. His hair is a disaster where it’s rubbed against the arm of the sofa and his coat is more on the floor than his body. He must be meditating or praying or whatever the hell angels do to recharge their heavenly batteries. It would be rude to interrupt him, Dean reasons, and he’ll be awake again within a few hours. There’s still plenty of time before sunrise. A few hours can’t hurt. In the moment before he’s pulled back to a dreamless sleep, Dean swears he catches the shadow of wings cast against the wall, curled around his body.
…
It’s not unusual for Sam to be awake before his brother. He rolls out of bed some time after sunrise, stumbling toward the kitchen before he’s even finished rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He very nearly walks past the tangle of limbs on the couch before Bobby rolls into the room, gesturing for him to stay quiet.
“They haven’t moved since Cas brought me back down here. Let them rest. They need it.”
And they do.
When Dean finally stumbles into the kitchen, Cas having disappeared mere seconds before he woke up, Sam doesn’t say a word about it, just smiles into his coffee mug. It’s good to see someone keeping Dean steady for once, and if Dean isn't ready to admit it yet, that’s a problem for another day.
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Fiances, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 8
Author: @exquisitley-obsessed
Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF
Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien
Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault/abuse/rape + abusive families
A/N: I’ve added a tag list for those who wish to stay updated with this story! Just message me if you wish to be added <3
MY MASTERLIST
THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST
AO3
Chapter Eight: Sisterly Love
Son of a bitch. Son of a fucking bitch. He had everything Lucien had ever wanted and then decided to fuck it all over. And for what? Because he was too much of a privileged idiot to care about anyone other than himself? Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Lucien’s knuckles were bleeding, but it was safe to say that the poor tree seemed to be faring worse. The Autumn male had walked into the woods until a healthy distance was between him and the manor (and all beautiful, flower-growing females within it) and then he had begun his search for the largest tree he could find. The trees in the human lands were nothing special, especially not compared to the endless auburn forests of Lucien’s home Court, but it wasn’t too long before found a red sequoia that had a thick enough trunk for his needs. It was a solitary tree which Lucien guessed was at an equidistance between the Manor and the home which he and Tamlin had bought for Nesta and Elain before going under the mountain. The home in which Elain had been stolen from. Another thing to be furious about.
After shedding his jacket and tying his hair back with a strip of leather, Lucien had begun to brutalise the tree. His hits were neat, and he moved with the trained precision of a courtly solider. He hadn’t learned to fight like the Illyrians, in cold camps, throwing punches as though they were a lifeline. Lucien had been trained to fight within duels which had rules and manners. It had been Eris who had taught him, the only one of his brothers who’d even bothered to speak to him, and that was mostly because their mother demanded it of her eldest.
When Lucien was little more than a kit, Eris had taken him into the endless forests of Autumn where they were hidden from the prying eyes of their father’s guards. It had been Eris who had given him his first sword, Eris who had taught him how fighting can happen via the mouth or palm. That to cut into someone with your words could be just as effective as the edge of a blade.
Eris had never lowered his guard, had never been kind, had never praised Lucien, but he had helped him when no one else would. Even if it were because he, like Lucien, couldn’t resist the pleas of their mother. The two of them were sensitive to her, particularly as Lucien had gotten older and this somehow catalysed their mother’s mind to unfurl like a ball of yarn. Eventually she’d been declared mute to the court. She wasn’t, of course, but their father didn’t want the courtier’s hearing of her nonsensical ramblings of wyverns and sunlight.
But even as Lucien hit the bark with enough force for it to splinter and fall to reveal the lighter spongey wood beneath, it was evident that he was not entirely an Autumn soldier. Going to Spring had meant there was also something beastly in the way he fought. The flames that licked up his forearms didn’t heed to ideas of conformity; those were wild and untamed. It made sense his fighting style was not truly Autumnal considering he had never honestly fitted in there. Well, he didn’t truly fit in anywhere. It was like he was not made of one Court, or one blood, but rather something messy and diverse.
Right. Left. He hit the tree with enough power to send shudders rippling through his bones. Right. Left. Above the beating of his fists he could hear his breathing, even and undisturbed, even after two hours of relenetless beating he had not yet broken into a sweat.
Unlike the Illyrians, for Lucien, fighting was about control. It was about taking something that was not disciplined and sharpening it into something dangerous. The Illyrians were brutal and raw, they fought with emotions, Lucien fought to bury his.
Right. Left. It had been some time now and Lucien could begin to feel the tree moan. He’d beaten through a large chunk of its mid-section so that it was now in danger of toppling. He needed to stop but, he couldn’t.
Right. Left. Just a little longer, he just needed to get his bottomless anger towards the boy under control, so, a little longer and then he’d turn back. His flames still begged for release despite their unleashing that morning. It had always been that way; his fire had been the one true thing to protect him from his older brothers. Even when he was a child, barely tall enough to meet his mother’s knee, he’d responded to his brother’s teasing with undisciplined spurts of light.
It had been a problem. He didn’t remember much of it, just that his unnaturally strong display of power had sent his mother into a nervous spiral. Eris had appeared, again, to deal with him.
Lucien had been trained by a strange man who he could only meet after the sun had gone down, and he had to meet him at the astronomy tower of the southern houses. The man was quiet and painfully old, especially for a fae. Old enough that there had been grey hairs in his mane of chocolatey hair. He’d wheezed his words as he taught Lucien to suppress elements of his powers, and Lucien had hated him mainly because he would dress in these strange white cloths that were bundled around his torso and legs, making him look like a babe.
That’s how Lucien had learnt to lock and compartmentalise his powers, which appeared to him now as circular panels. The outer most layer being the most trivial of tricks: heating up cold tea, warming the sheets on a chilly night, lighting lanterns with a wave of his hand. Below that were the displays of strength, such as the flames on his arms. Then there were the layers of the affronts: streams of fire, explosive sparks, even the fire runes he’d learned which he could mark on the floor so that when an enemy crossed them they would turn to ash. Down and down it went like the skin of a snake, the animal of his mother’s blood house. The inner most layer wasn’t a layer at all, but what he’d been taught was the heart of his power. When Lucien closed his eyes and focused, he could see it, glowing in his chest. A ball of pure, golden light that thrummed with raw power.
The lessons had ended abruptly, before Lucien was even tall enough to meet his mother’s shoulder. Just like that, the old male was gone, and Eris had appeared instead.
Lucien was weary. There was no reason for Eris to speak to him unless he’d done something wrong. That’s how it went for everyone, and Lucien could never understand what he did exactly to provoke them all. Sometimes it seemed reasonable, when he wandered too far from the grounds or was found reading forbidden books. Other times he didn’t understand why the beatings came, such as when his brother’s had pulverised him when he was on the forest trails looking for flowers, apparently males didn’t care for flowers, apparently his misdoing was worthy of a broken femur.
Lucien was weary. There was no reason for Eris to speak to him unless he’d done something wrong. That’s how it went for everyone, and Lucien could never understand what he did exactly to provoke them all. Sometimes it seemed reasonable, when he wandered too far from the grounds or was found reading forbidden books. Other times he didn’t understand why the beatings came, such as when his brother’s had pulverised him when he was on the forest trails looking for flowers, apparently males didn’t care for flowers, apparently his misdoing was worthy of a broken femur.
Lucien was weary. There was no reason for Eris to speak to him unless he’d done something wrong. That’s how it went for everyone, and Lucien could never understand what he did exactly to provoke them all. Sometimes it seemed reasonable, when he wandered too far from the grounds or was found reading forbidden books. Other times he didn’t understand why the beatings came, such as when his brother’s had pulverised him when he was on the forest trails looking for flowers, apparently males didn’t care for flowers, apparently his misdoing was worthy of a broken femur.
Lucien was on time, wasn’t he? He was always good with time, he could read the sun, moon and stars as though they were a second language. He’d come back to his room after dinner, dressed in his night clothes and laid in bed pretending to sleep whilst counting to 1000, then he rolled on his back and looked out his window and waited till the moon was hovering over the oak firs, then he would sneak out.
But he must have done something wrong, right? Because when Lucien had climbed the steps to the astronomy tower and entered the room in which Dracon was usually pre-seated and waiting with a soft smile, there had been Eris instead. He was standing behind Dracon’s empty chair and holding onto it’s back, looking bored as he glared at the telescopes.
“Dracon isn’t going to come here anymore. Your lessons are done.” Eris was a full grown male now, all of Lucien’s other brothers were close behind but there was something still unfinished about their scruffy hair and cruel eyes. Eris had the grace of a full grown fae male, and Lucien silently wished that he could be more like him, all elegance and cunning grace. Not the meaty bulk of Travis or Ruadiridh.
“Have I done something wrong?” Lucien couldn’t help but ask in a small, quiet voice. If he were to be beaten, he had developed a small routine to distract himself, to pull himself far away from his body so that he couldn’t really feel the hurt as it happened, only after did he feel the pain. Eris looked irritated by his question, and Lucien pushed himself against the tower door.
“Have you? Is there something you wish to tell me?” Eris’ eyes blazed as he looked at him. Lucien shook his head furiously. “Good.”
“W-where is Dracon?” Lucien stammered and hated himself for it. Stammering in front of his family was like offering a pork chop to a starved hound. He waited for Eris to pounce.
“Gone. He’s not coming back,” Eris said instead in a cold, emotionless voice. Lucien’s hands shook with disbelief at his luck.
“Gone? I-Is he okay?” Lucien was pushing his fortune. Never before had he tried to ask one of his brother’s so many consecutive questions, but something about the moonlight was making him reckless. That, and the tiredness of his brother’s stature. Eris was barely a grown male, and yet he seemed as old as father in his worry.
“No,” Eris said, and his face turned enigmatic as he looked down on his littlest of brothers. Eris seemed to assess him for a moment, taking in Lucien’s cropped auburn hair and browning skin. His face turned cruel, cold. His eyes turning into dark stones that gave away no emotion. Lucien steeled himself for his brother’s insult, but it still rattled him all the same.
“No, Lucien, he’s not coming back. He’s dead…and it’s all your fault.”
***
Right. Left. Right. Left.
Eris. Another thing to be angry about.
It had taken years of living with Tamlin for Lucien to begin to understand that the way his family had treated him was abnormal. That true brother’s taught each other strength and friendship, not how to practice mental mind games so that Lucien could escape his body whilst they cut him up and put him back together.
Right. Left. He’d been out for so long that he’d over run his time. He was supposed to meet her at 10.
Right. Left. The drumming of the blood in his ears was so loud that Lucien didn’t hear the slight ‘pop’ of a figure winnowing behind him. Nor did he turn quick enough after hearing the raw yet feminine battle cry.
“You bastard!” A small yet strong form collided into him, sending him back against the mutilated tree trunk. Lucien didn’t even fight back, not when the braided crown of pale brown hair told him all he needed to know.
“NESTA!” Lucien looked above the wildcats crown to see Feyre, dressed in simple black shirt and pants, reaching out for her wolf of a sister.
“You stole her! You ripped her away from us you-” The following language Lucien had not heard in a long time, and yet it was certainly not the first time an angry female had called him such names. Lucien just leaned back against the tree as Nesta’s small, yet sharp arm dug into his guts, and she pressed a blade to his throat.
Just for the hell of it he cocked his head and smirked, trying to look unbothered and arrogant – because doing so made him feel like he had some form of power, even though he was clearly at the Archeron sister’s mercy. God, this really shouldn’t happen as often as is it does.
“Nesta I have told you time and time again that Elain left of her own volition-” Lucien felt a pang of pity for his friend as she sighed and rubbed at her temples. Feyre was a new mother, and it seems that it’s not just Nyx that has needed babying the past few days.
“And I’ve told you that I don’t believe a word of it!” Nesta snarled. Lucien just glared down at the female before taking in her fitted Illyrian leathers, the new ropes of muscle that curved across her thin and sharp body, even the siphons on the back of her hands, glowing violet. Lucien snarled.
“Who the hell taught her how to wield a knife?” Nesta’s returning grin was nothing short of feral.
Nesta had always reminded Lucien of a blade, or something worse, something infinitely sharper and more dangerous. She held herself like a queen, one whose cruelness may have been on par with Eris’. She was taller than Feyre and Elain and was all sharp edges and bones. Feyre had been lither in her figure, after building muscle she appeared more cat-like in her grace. Elain…
Lucien couldn’t dwell on Elain’s figure for too long, or at least of what he imagined of it through her long skirts. All he knew is that she was shorter than her sisters, with a softer jawline and a bigger chest that was often bound and hidden from sight. Right now, Lucien really couldn’t be thinking about how he imagined her to have a hefty swell at her hips, or how her thighs might look spilling out from the top of stockings, or the…Lucien mentally slapped himself.
An erection right now would get him stabbed in the throat.
“Get off me,” Lucien growled, wrenching his hands up and pushing on Nesta’s shoulders. Despite Nesta clearly having been honed into a warrior, he still did not push hard, he could not find it within him to act aggressively towards a female, not even one with a knife to his throat.
Not after his mother.
“You will take us to her,” Nesta just growled, standing agonisingly straight and glaring at him with ice in her eyes. Lucien wasn’t convinced her powers had completely vanished, and a small shiver ran the length of his spine at being so directly under her focus.
“No, he will not,” Feyre just sighed, running a hand over her head.
“What are you doing here hellcat? I don’t remember inviting you,” as Lucien spoke he shot a glare at Feyre who just sighed for a third time.
“She figured out Elain was gone and has been tearing the Night Court down ever since. I thought if perhaps Nesta could come and see that there’s no danger then maybe my people might be saved of her wrath.”
“Poor Night Court,” Lucien cooed, brushing down his pale drawstring tunic and fitted brown pants.
“Have you two lost your minds?” Nesta just scowled, her fury now turning (thankfully) to her sister. “Elain is not safe in the mortal lands, are you forgetting how the humans treat the fae? What about the one human who may have a particular reason to not want to have her around.”
This is why he couldn’t despise Nesta. Despite all she had said and done. Because at the end of the day, Nesta had a fierce loyalty that Lucien not only admired, but could see within himself. Perhaps there would never be a day where they could consider one another as friends, but they both were bitter, both believed the worst of people and weren’t easy in trusting. But beyond the apparent mess of a relationship between them, they’d both go down fighting to protect Elain.
Not to mention they were the two first in line to shiv the Nolan boy.
Maybe that would be the thing to tie them together, planning a secret mission to infiltrate the Nolan manor and slit the boy’s throat whilst he slept. Nest might actually respect him for a night.
“I don’t know what the hells’ going on, but Elain is vulnerable and the only place she can be thoroughly protected is in the Night Court.” Nesta seethed, her glare feeling like steel.
“Elain’s vulnerable?” Lucien asked in a low voice. Feyre’s note, the one which Elain had arrived with had been incomprehensible with the rainwater. What if there had been a message informing him of Elain’s safety? What if Elain was in fact seeking asylum in the mortal lands. Lucien swore at himself internally. When it came to his mate there wasn’t much else he could do but protect her, and even that he seemed to fail at.
“She’s no more vulnerable than the rest of us,” Feyre shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “There’s some concern with the Cauldron reaching for Elain but she hasn’t had a vision in two years, and she knows to notify us if that changes.”
“But yeah besides the threat of Koschei there isn’t too much to worry about,” Nesta sneered, folding her arms protectively over herself. It was a tell of hers Lucien had picked up on. For a female who was full of steel and wit, her body language said that she was guarded and well…lonely.
Elain leaving must have hit Nesta hard, Lucien realised. He’d noticed how Nesta treated Elain, almost protecting her too much after the Cauldron, as though by taking enough care of Elain she could make up for what she failed to do for Feyre. Elain leaving randomly, in the night, without notifying Nesta, must have re-awoken that feeling. Nesta’s drive to protect, as though she wanted to protected her sister from the pain she’d been through.
That’s where Nesta was wrong, Lucien couldn’t help but think bitterly. Nesta had ultimately infantilised her sister, had refused to let her walk without holding her hand, how she had in some twisted way trapped Elain on a leash.
I care for you, I protect you, I provide for you. You must love me. Please love me.
When Elain had strayed too far on that leash, Nesta had recoiled, she’d gone of the edge. If Nesta couldn’t overprotect her sister, then she wouldn’t protect her at all.
Lucien ultimately felt sorry for the viper. Again, because he saw so much of himself in her. Lucien didn’t know how to love in small quantities, he had to devote himself fully, to everything.
Love or death. Lucien physically shuddered as the phrase stumbled through his mind. It was a stupid, stupid promise he had made when he was young and full of hope. A stupid, violent, costly promise.
“I promise you Elain is safe within my protection. I would give the whole speech about how we could make a bonding pact over my protection of her, but I know you know I’m being serious.” Lucien picked at his nails, still leaning against the tree and tucking his leg up. The image of boredom.
“And do you really think you’ll be enough to protect her?” Nesta seethed, whilst Feyre looked him up and down curiously.
“If you want to have a little wrestle in the mud Nesta, just say so. I’m sure you’ll find me more than capable of handling myself.”
“Oh I don’t doubt you’re capable of handling yourself, given it’s all you’ve got.” Nesta sneered, evidentially agitated by his taunts. That’s where Nesta needed training, Lucien couldn’t help but think, and for a moment he realised he sounded like Eris. Eris would take one look at Nesta and roll his eyes – “You wear your emotions like a fool. You’ll never be good enough to be a courtier. One look at you and everyone could tell what you want. It’ll be your greatest, most haunting weakness.”
“Rather scandalous, Nesta, I must say. You thinking about me handling myself? I thought you had a mate-” Nesta roared and charged for him. Feyre threw a casual shield between the two of them which the hellcat promptly bounced off. Lucien just focused on staying relaxed. When he was relaxed, he was in control.
“Children please!” Feyre barked, holding a palm up to both of them. Lucien just chuckled as Nesta seethed and Feyre sighed. “Surprisingly, we’re not just here to engage in pitiful threats and stupid insults, we did actually have a matter at hand to discuss.”
Fear coiled in Lucien’s gut. He’d almost forgotten. With the rhythmic almost meditative training and the distraction that was Nesta’s fury, he’d been blissfully unaware for a moment of why he’d called the remaining Archeron sisters to the mortal realm. Lucien stood straight, pulling on his jacket and tying his cuffs.
“You said it was urgent?” Feyre said softly after a moment, still maintaining the shield between himself and the hellcat.
“And private, if I recall,” Lucien flickered his eyes to the viper.
“I can send her home if you’d like.” Nesta went to complain but Lucien silenced her.
“It’s fine. In fact it…it might be better for you both to hear it…” He was getting nervous, he knew it. Turning into the male that he became whenever he went to the Night Court. But they were on his territory now. God, how ironic was that.
“Is it…is…are you okay?” Feyre looked alarmingly concerned, even Nesta’s anger seemed to have settled into a soft simmer.
“I’m fine,” Lucien said quickly. Too quickly.
“Elain…” Feyre trailed off. And Lucien sighed deeply.
Then he began. He told them both of how everything had been fine between himself and Elain (promptly skipping over their minor capture in an Ashwood trap) and there had been no problem till last night where, after talking about Graysen and his new engagement – Feyre gagged, Nesta swore – Elain had dreamt of a memory and had unwittingly sent that memory to Lucien.
“So…what’s the problem?” Nesta probed, her anger now having well and truly given way to a steely determination. Feyre’s shield had even dropped.
“It’s the dream isn’t it – what was it?” Feyre asked. Lucien hesitated.
“I…I don’t know if I can say.”
“Oh no, nuh uh,” Nesta clipped, “You did not drag us across Prythian, tease us with something threatening our sister only to back out now.” Lucien sighed as he glared at Nesta because, well, she was right. He’d called them for a reason and that reason was he didn’t know what to do. The bond forced delicate information of Elain’s to be forced into his lap, but he didn’t yet see himself as someone with the clearance to deal with such things. But that didn’t mean they should just be ignored. Elain needed someone. She needed her sisters.
Right?
“The dream was a memory, and it was of her and Graysen, they were running through some woods. They were engaged and…and…” Lucien grimaced.
“What?” Feyre asked, her concerned High Lady voice coming out. Lucien just looked at her, at them both. What he was about to tell them, well, it was going to change things.
“The two of them were enjoying each other’s company and I did all that I could to not intrude-”
“What? You just stood there and watched as they, as they…” Nesta glared at him, disgust in her eyes. Fury coiled in Lucien’s gut.
“I assure you Nesta if there was a way for me to stop witnessing as my mate was lain, spread and taken by another man, I would’ve found a way out.” The words were cold, harsh, and both Feyre and Nesta recoiled slightly. They had mates. They understood.
Lucien took a deep breath and tried again.
“That wasn’t the problem. I would not have have called you if that was all,” he began, now finding he was unable to look them in the eye, “They weren’t…they didn’t actually do anything besides some mild fondling. At some point Graysen began to force himself on her, after she refused several times he got angry with her-”
A sharp intake of breath from one of the sisters made Lucien wince.
“It was then that he began to…manipulate and coerce Elain into giving ‘consent’” Lucien used his fingers to form brackets around the word. “Graysen wouldn’t stop until Elain agreed to meet him in a barn near a Eucalyptus-”
Another gasp had Lucien looking up. He regretted calling them immediately.
“Look, I don’t know how human judicial systems work and legislation differs between the Courts, but in the majority of the Courts’ eyes Graysen could justifiably be trialled for rape.”
Both sisters froze. Nesta turning to ice, her features somehow becoming more pointed and severe. Feyre looked…emotional. Her hands were shaking as she brought them to her mouth.
“Rape?” Feyre eventually gasped.
“It…it does differ between courts. In Autumn, no, it wouldn’t count. Spring legislation hasn’t been updated in centuries given how underdeveloped the Court has been with its weak bloodline, so it’s a no there too.” Lucien knew laws of Spring. He’d researched them endlessly after Calanmai. “I used to assume the Night Court was the same but, given Rhysand’s stance on sexual assault survivors I’d believe that yes, Graysen could be charged. All other Courts, Summer, Winter, Dawn and Day could all put him on trial. The exact charge is generally defined as forced or non-consensual sexual contact. It was coercion, and therefore not consent.”
Lucien had felt lifeless as he spoke. He had to. He had to take all his emotions and bury them in the deepest recesses of his mind. If stopped to think even for a moment about the fact Graysen could be charged for raping Elain, the air started to leave his body and he felt as though he’d start to have a panic attack. He hadn’t had one of those since before he met Jes.
“I don’t know if she…if she…”
“She did,” Nesta said in a cold, unfeeling voice. Her eyes were glazed and far away.
“She came back in the morning, and I found her in the gardens, she wasn’t wearing shoes and her dress was buttoned wrong and she was just wandering. I…” Nesta’s voice broke and she cleared her throat, still not looking at anyone. “I took her in for a bath and she was fine, after that. It was like it took her a moment to be convinced that she had enjoyed it. After that, she was glowing and happy. Graysen always seemed to make her so happy…”
Lucien cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I…I brought this information to you because I didn’t know what the human standards are for any of this. I don’t know how the humans would prosecute-”
“They wouldn’t,” Feyre said solemnly, a hand still covering her mouth, “Human judiciaries don’t really do…rape…the only time people are trialled and convicted is when it’s wealthy women of a certain bloodline who were clearly raped in a brutal way with a direct witness.”
Fury once more coiled through Lucien’s gut. Elain had been taught to expect this. She’d been taught that Graysen touching her like that, talking to her like that – she’d been taught that that was love.
“I see,” Lucien grappled with the beast within, “I…the bond between Elain and I has shown me this, but I feel it is not yet my place to-to-”
“We understand Lucien,” Feyre stepped forward taking his hand, and Lucien found himself leaning into the touch. As pitiful as it was, he needed Feyre to take over, to take this information off his hands for the time being. He just couldn’t – he didn’t know how – it wasn’t his place and yet –
“She’s our sister and we’ll find a way to deal with this, to broach the subject with her and find how she feels.” It was as though Lucien could see Feyre switch from concerned sister to High Lady of the Night Court, Feyre the Cursebreaker. Lucien could only nod at her solemnly.
“Lucien,” Nesta started and as he looked at her, he could practically see the internal war raging on inside those icy eyes. He just waited until she found the words. “Thank you…” She spoke at last. Lucien nodded, and that was that.
Nesta went to speak to her sister when she paused and looked down at the siphons on the back of each hand, glowing a violent shade of purple.
“I-shit…I was supposed to be back in time for training.”
“Go,” Feyre said, still holding Lucien’s hand, “We’ll talk later.”
Feyre and Nesta seemed to share a certain sisterly stare with one another, almost as though they were conversing without speaking. Eventually Nesta nodded, and with one more steely yet grateful look at Lucien, she winnowed away.
Feyre turned to Lucien.
“Thank you, Lucien, for telling us about this. I know you’re trying your hardest given the circumstance.”
Lucien nodded. Yes, the circumstance being that despite him and his mate having not truly accepted the bond, nor having truly struck up any kind of relationship, the bond has deemed it appropriate to reveal to him incredibly intimate and difficult scenarios of Elain’s life without her knowledge nor consent.
“Thanks,” was all he could mutter, though he truly felt he did not deserve her praise. A small silence settled over the two of them and when Lucien looked up again, Feyre was giving him a peculiar stare. She seemed almost…amused.
“What you were doing with Nesta, teasing her like that-”
“Sorry,” Lucien interrupted, “I understand I may have overstepped my bounds I-”
“No,” it was Feyre’s turn to interrupt, “No, that’s not it. I just meant to say that well, for a second there you seemed like the old you.”
Lucien cocked his head.
“The old me?”
“You know, the git who was horrible and snide to me for weeks on end even though he was High Fae, and I was an enslaved mortal,” Feyre was grinning as she spoke, her hands resting on her hips in a very motherly manner.
“Oh,” Lucien nodded, “That old me.”
“Is it her or being here?” Feyre asked outright and something in Lucien’s chest stumbled before he sighed, deep and long. Now that Nesta was gone, he could relax with Feyre. She was like Vassa or Jurian – as close as a friend as he had.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “She’s…I mean she’s…”
“Mhm,” Feyre grinned knowingly.
“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes. Feyre burst out laughing, and when her laughter had rung out into the forest a slightly awkward silence stilted the conversation.
“It’s not…” Lucien grimaced, “It’s not perfect though. I felt her through the bond when she found out Graysen had gotten engaged. It wasn’t…she…”
Feyre shrugged as though this meant nothing.
“I suppose she’s entitled to respond a little poorly. But I understand what you mean. You have it difficult Lucien, don’t doubt that for a second. Most mates get a chance to fall in love before the bond even makes itself known.” Lucien frowned.
“No, it doesn’t. It’s common for mates to feel the bond upon first seeing one another-”
“Yeah, yeah, when I said most mates I was talking about myself and Nesta, you know, the only two examples of a mating bond that Elain knows?”
“Oh,” Lucien nodded.
“You know how it is for us, we used to be human. When you’re human falling in love isn’t something that has anything to do with fate and attitudes towards casual sex are, you know, only positive when you’re a man which – not important – what I’m trying to say is that for Elain, Graysen was a big deal. Falling in love was a big deal. Having someone choose to love her with their own Mother-gifted violation, was a big deal.”
“I know,” Lucien said softly, “I’m not trying to take that away from her. I just…as much as Elain had certain customs growing up, so did I. It’s not exactly usual for two mates to ignore a bond for two years. Rejecting? Yes. Ignoring…not so much.”
Feyre, to Lucien’s surprise, nodded.
“Like I said,” she began, “You two have it tough. I don’t think either of you are necessarily at fault. Elain hasn’t just been ignoring you these past two years, she’s been healing, finding herself. You’ve been incredibly patient but at the same time, you’re allowed to be upset at the way things have gone.”
“Right but-”
“Lucien, I love you, but everything you’re saying right now is exactly what you need to be saying to Elain,” Feyre half-laughed as she squeezed his hand.
“Right, right…” Lucien nodded, and Feyre finally let go of his hand. Though, the loss of her touch didn’t take away any of the weight of his discovery, that still hung over him like a black cloud. Feyre moved back a few paces before giving a quick shake of her body as two giant leathery wings protruded from her back.
“Rhysand says I need to keep using them,” she smiled at him, “Though I think once I get past Spring I might just cheat. Don’t tell him though.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucien laughed, holding up his hands.
Lucien watched as Feyre prepped herself for take-off, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.
“Feyre wait!” He called, just before she took off.
“Yeah?” Lucien paused ever so slightly.
“I did the right thing, telling you, about what I saw?” Feyre cocked her head and seemed to genuinely consider his question.
“I don’t know,” Feyre answered honestly, and something inside Lucien shuddered. “These kinds of things are sensitive, and each individual reacts differently. I would bet that Elain doesn’t understand that what Graysen did was wrong, she certainly wouldn’t consider it as rape as in her eyes she technically said ‘yes’”
“But-” Lucien growled.
“Yeah, I know, don’t worry. It is rape. I know. But in her eyes she gave herself willingly and…” Feyre’s eyes became dazed, “Just think about what this will be like for her, to find out the one person she loved most in the whole world didn’t just turn into a bad guy when she turned fae but was a bad guy all along. Imagine finding out your first love had raped you and you’d never even realised.”
Lucien shuddered and for a terrifying moment, he wondered if he might cry. With Ianthe he’d known. Every step of the way he’d known, and he genuinely didn’t know if it was better or worse to be ignorant. If he could be oblivious to what had happened in that cave, would he choose to be?
Elain’s choice had somehow fallen into his lap and in some way, this meant she had no choice at all. To tell her nothing would be making a choice, as would be telling her what Graysen had done. It wasn’t fair, for either of them.
“You better get going,” Lucien said after a moment with a quick glance to the sun placement, “Rhysand might think I’ve kidnapped you again.”
Feyre tipped her head back and let out a joyous laugh that filled the forest with magic.
“Oh Lucien,” she clutched her ribs, “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, and…” she suddenly looked nervous.
“What?”
“Promise me you and I will still be friends, no matter what happens with Elain, promise me you’ll stay.”
Feyre was looking at him with so much shy hope that Lucien couldn’t help but nod without even considering her question. Without another word Feyre took off into the skies, steering away from Lockhart Manor as to not accidentally cross Elain’s line of vision.
Lucien watched her go with a heavy heart.
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#elucien#fffaf#elucien fic#elucien fluff#elucien fanfiction#elain#elain archeron#elain x lucien#elain archeron x lucien#pro elucien#pro elain#pro lucien#lucien vanserra#lucien x elain#elain/lucien#lucien/elain
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let them go - part one | j.t.
a/n: so i literally just binged the entirety of titans in like two weeks and surprise surprise i got too emotionally attached to jason todd. sorry for the hiatus, life kind of blew up for a little bit and i lost all motivation to write, but i hope you enjoy this and my future works :D
It was a mystery as to why you had been born with the powers that you did. All anyone knew is that you came out of the womb with ash colored hair and blue eyes that matched the icy cold nature of your skin. The doctors had brushed it off as an odd birthmark, they had seen worse before. So you were sent home to the perfect little suburb your parents lived in. Your life was normal for the first five years.
But neighbors began to question as to why frost was creeping up their windows in the middle of summer. In order to avoid any conflict, your parents packed up and moved to none other than Gotham City. The place where people like you could slip into the shadows without being noticed at all.
That was years ago now, though, and that was before the night your parents were murdered in the middle of your apartment. The night that you fled Gotham without a second thought. The night you showed up at Dick Grayson’s doorstep with frost covering the sidewalk behind you. You were one of the few people who knew Dick was Robin, but that was a different story for another day.
Dick treated you like a little sibling. He always had, and that was the way your life was for a few months. He would go to work at the police department while you sat at home and attended school on the computer. You were hesitant to go to a “normal” school. All you had ever known was the Gotham school system, and everyone knew it was complete shit. It was rare that you would actually learn something there. Often the school day was clogged with fights and... other activities teenagers of Gotham did.
That was until Rachel Roth showed up.
The next few days were a blur, but now you were walking into one of Batman’s many safe houses with an alien, a girl who seemed to have a demon inside of her, and a boy who could turn into a fucking tiger at a moment’s notice. Of course it was just another day in the life of the small group you were now a part of. When you first showed up on Dick’s doorstep this was the last place you expected to be.
You were nearly floored when you saw the unfamiliar face in the living room of the safe house. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you had ever met.
“Who are your friends?” The mysterious boy asked, a beer in his band. Dick immediately responded,
“Not important.”
“Who is he?” You questioned with a small smile as you approached him. You could feel Dick burning holes into the back of your head with the stare only an older brother could have.
“Not important.”
The next minute was a blur of your little group going back and forth with the boy, who you now knew as Jason, and what he exactly was doing with Dick. Then Gar pointed out the new briefcase that held the infamous Robin suit in it. That was when it was discovered that Jason Todd was in fact the new Robin. You couldn’t stop the snort from leaving your lips.
“What, does Bruce keep you fuckers in a spare room in the Batcave? Already in spandex and spedos?” There was a bright smile on your lips, but it was clear that Jason was a bit surprised you actually knew Batman’s true identity. It was a well guarded secret. “Um, Dick and I have known each other for years. I haven’t told anyone about Bruce, don’t worry.”
There was a few moments of silence before everyone went their separate ways to do whatever. Dick with Kory, Gar with Rachel. Somehow you found yourself sitting on the couch with Jason and a beer in your hand.
“So,” Jason broke the silence, “how did you get involved with Dick?” There was a certain tone to his voice that made your cheeks flush with heat, a rare occurrence for your constantly icy skin.
“It’s not like that, you know. Dick is like a brother to me. Besides, I have a thing against dating guys with daddy issues.” A laugh left Jason’s lips in response to your joke. This laugh was accompanied with a flirtatious look from the boy, to which you rolled your eyes with a scoff.
“That includes you, Boy Wonder. You’re Robin so you’re bound to have some shit going on. Isn’t that like Bruce’s whole thing? Taking in tortured young boys and training them to be little soldiers. I mean I will give it to him, he trained Dick to be one hell of a fighter. Did you know that he keeps his throwing knives by his bed? I wouldn’t recommend trying to wake him up with water to the face.”
Before the two of you got the chance to finish the conversation, or the beer, Dick came asking for Jason’s help with something. And so you were alone on the couch with a lukewarm beer and a new kind of warmth in your chest that had never been there before. You hadn’t noticed Kory leaning against the doorway that lead into the living room, a shit eating grin on her lips.
“So, a thing against guys with daddy issues?” You rolled your eyes and quickly stood up from the couch.
“You’re the one fucking the bird, not me.” It was in reference to Kory and Dick’s night at the motel. The walls were paper thin. You had your own shit-eating grin on your face as you walked past the woman.
After a few hours of watching whatever was on the tv with Rachel and Gar, the two Robins returned with minor injuries. It was a sort of ritual between you and Dick for you do help clean whatever wounds he had at the end of a particularly rough night at the police department. It was therapeutic for the both of you. So, you two were sat on the sterile tile floors of the bathroom and you were cleaning the busted lip he had in silence.
“So, how old is Jason? He can’t be as old as you or Kory, right?”
“No, you’re not going to do anything with him.” Dick said simply between dabs at his bloodied lip. Another eye roll came from you, as well as a laugh and a gentle punch to his shoulder.
“I’m not going to, asshole. I was just curious. I know Bruce likes to take in young boys who need help, so I’m assuming that he can’t be more than, what, 19?”
Dick sighed and shifted away from you. He leaned against the cabinet in silence for a minute before he spoke. “He’s your age, he was picked up by Bruce about a year ago after he tried to take the Batmobile’s hubcaps.” You simply nodded in reply before standing up from the floor, first aid kit in hand.
“I’m going to make sure Jason’s alright. Hearing stories from you, I doubt he’s ever had anyone to clean his wounds beside Alfred. Much less someone his own age.” Dick gave you a curt nod of approval, not that you needed it, and with that you were leaving the bathroom and beginning to search through the condo for Jason.
You never were able to find him that night, but the next morning he was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and a black eye. You took the seat next to him once you had gotten your coffee. “Do you need ice or something? That looks pretty rough.”
“No, it’ll be fine. But I’m sure a kiss would make it feel better.” He looked at you with a grin and a wink. A snort left your lips as you rolled your eyes for what felt like the tenth time that weekend.
“Yeah, nice try. You’re not getting in my pants that easily.” You patted his shoulder gently.
And that was the last you had spoken to him until you left the safe house in search of Rachel’s mother. Jason was going back to Gotham, and you assumed that you would never see him again. The group had gone over the plan to get into the asylum that her mother was being held in, and it was supposed to be an easy mission. In and out. So with the tactile suit you had in the go bag you had brought with you on your body and your nerves at an all time high, you leaned against the doorway between the exit hallway and the living room.
“So, I suppose this is goodbye, Boy Wonder.” Your voice was much softer than it normally was, but Jason Todd put a warmth in your chest that made you softer than normal.
“I suppose it is, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.” There was the same flirtatious grin that had been there the other night.
“Stranger things have. But, I doubt I’ll be going back to Gotham any time soon. I left that place behind and I swore never to go back. And I’m sure if Bruce finds you anywhere but Gotham he’ll have your head on a spike.” You pushed yourself off of the door frame and walked over to him. “I may have a rule against dating guys with daddy issues, but if you keep trying I won’t stop you.”
With that you slipped a piece of paper into his hand, your phone number written on it.
“Until we meet again, Boy Wonder.”
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Missing someone isn’t poetic.
It feels like acid being poured into your chest, scorching your heart, burning it into ashes.
It’s bursting out in tears at random moments of the day just because the tiniest things remind you of them.
It’s you being awake at 2 am silently screaming your heart out, unable to sleep.
It’s waking up alone. Always alone because they’re not there. Even if someone else is — they’re not them.
It’s feeling this void in your chest yearning for someone — clawing your lungs to escape.
You can’t breathe.
It’s not able to think about anyone else, and no one can fill their place.
It’s not able to close your eyes. Not without seeing them. When you open your eyes — they’re gone. (Sometimes you wish you’re blind so you could at least see them one more time.)
Ironically, you are.
Missing someone isn’t poetic.
It’s hell.
——————
My first poem ever....? Sorry if it’s bad. Anyway! I hope you enjoy it :)
Feedback maybe??
Tagging mutuals : @thelandunderthehilll @hands-dripping-ink @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @emiikas @liam-h-205 @the-shadowthief @crying-is-your-latest-fashion @mithriel-of-mithlond @brotherhalal-ariahs @older-brother-kit @magnus-the-maqnificent @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @banesbitch @matthewfaichild @punknihilist @sankalina @khaleesiofalicante @zafirafoxx @beclynn-herondale @fieryfantasybooklover @spookylululu @spookyadhithi @kingmoriarty (don’t judge me ok?)
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The Stand In Chapter Two
Masterlist
Your finally about to film your first scene for a teaser and things have just became real but how are you going to get through make up along side Henry for hours without fangirling? especially when he keeps staring at you like that?
Warnings: Swearing, fluff
A/n: so got a few people that like this idea which really shocked me. I'm trying really hard to make y/n one of us fangirls I really want you to be able to put yourself in this one. Like seriously if I had the chance to meet him I'd just fucking freeze on the spot go red scream and melt into a puddle of goo... I'd be way to anxious to approach him or ask for a photo..Any who enjoy this next chapter xxx
Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @thummbelina @sofiebstar
You yawned loudly as you trudged out of your new comfy trailer: which was actually one of those fancy ass tour buses. You grabbed your bag with a few bits in it...Phone, snacks, purse, snacks, script, snacks....more snacks. What?You got hungry!You opened the door wrapping your cardigan around you tightly as you ventured out into the dark it was freezing the cold air making you shiver. A four am start was always a shock to the system and today was your fifth, your alarms on your phone had gone of again and again and again, blaring and screaming at you. Since the whole becoming and actress and Lauren pulling a contract seemingly out of her ass thing had happened a few days ago, you hadn't seen much of Henry and Joey they had been busy filming and training.
You were slightly smaller then 'she who shall not be named coughDickcough' so some of the fight scenes had to be reworked...Yes at some point you and 'Geralt' were going to come to blows in a fight scene and you were bricking it. For more then one reason;
One. I mean come on the huge hunk of a man; the star of every single late night fantasy you've pretty much ever had!, tossing you around and possibly pinning you down? Grunting and growling the entire time? and your supposed to look angry? Hahaha no...
And two. Well Henry is a large imposing man and Geralt is supposed to be frightening in those scenes so...How the fuck are you gonna stay in character and fight him when your simultaneously scared shitless , remembering choreography and creaming your panties....Like fuck that's gonna be some crazy self control needed right there. If you get through it with out fangirling; which would be a miracle in itself you deserve a fucking Oscar. But that's a problem for another day...Tomorrow in fact. The point is you felt a little bad because he had worked so hard before and now he has to relearn it all and he has been working super hard on it..you don't want to mess up.
But that’s not to say you have been idle oh no! You'd been hard at work learning lines and undergoing your transformation from y/n into Keira which was completely insane. Once fully kitted out you would be....Well not you...But it was you, a super weird experience you were sure but you was looking forward to it all coming together. You had to wear a wig, your hair was just a little to short naturally skimming your shoulders. You were glad really you loved your lilac hair it took a lot of work to keep up with it!.
The wig was a bright blonde not as bright as Freya's hair for Ciri but still quite light, more golden then pale it was a strange color, hard to describe. The wig itself fell down to just past your shoulders in large loose silky waves and even though you had green eyes you were still going to get contacts, it had been mentioned that they want your eyes to be an impossible bright green, all the mages seemed to have bright eyes and you were no different. You were dreading it , you'd never wore them and have a thing about eyes...You don't like touching them or other people touching them eyes aren't meant to be fiddled with you know? ...You need them to see kind of?
Apart from that things had gone well the dresses just needed to be taken up a few inches and the rest of the transformation was mostly attitude , props and make up thankfully the make up was mostly highlights and color correcting that sort of thing. You walked across the set following the light emitting from the hair and make up trailer, you could see from here a few people were up and about inside. Within a few moments you were inside standing off to the side unsure where to put yourself or your bag ,it was just you and a few of the make up artists there. Holly was in charge of you, you got on well with her helping her out a lot before all this and was glad to have her as your artist she put you at ease which is definitely what you needed ,she came over smiling and directed you to your seat.
"So! Todays the day huh? Your first shoot you excited?" You gave a nervous laugh.
"Terrified more like, Its not long apparently they need a teaser for the character to go out and to stick in the trailer....I'm so fucking out of my depth it is unreal! Each day has been a whirlwind and I still don't know if I can pull this off...I'm not an actress" she stood behind you combing your hair back looking at you in the mirror fixing you with a look and struck your crown with the flat of the comb.
"Hey enough of that, you got this just go out there and give it your best. Joey was actually stunned when you did your reading he said he has never seen an actress like you before" you frowned looking around at her slightly twisting in your seat.
"Probably hasn't seen one like me cos I'm not and actress but okay I will bite..What exactly did he say?" She blinked at you leaning back waving the comb about shocked looking for words.
"You-hah? I don't even, you really don't even know how big a deal this is do you?" You blinked shaking your head as she was caught up in her own shock.
"Err no duh? Not an actress remember" you huffed she pointed the lethal comb to your face and make a circle motion she chuckled when you flinched and spun round twisting to face the mirror again.
"Talent. He and Henry were talking about you the other day, they couldn't believe that someone with talent like yours hadn't been picked up on. Apparently the way you just...Turned off your own personality shut down your personal feelings like that and became Keira so effortlessly is rare... Said it was like flipping a switch. A complete personality change like that with no prior training or mentoring is the holy grail. Untapped talent I think was the term used. Henry said he has only seen it twice before and that is saying something with everything he has under his belt... So trust me when I say your going to do great" you flushed they thought it was that good? Henry though you had talent.. you smiled feeling giddy blushing a little.You watched as she moved getting some leave in conditioner to make your hair behave itself.
"It's...It can't be that rare it just comes from having to hide anxiety...Can't let people know your having a meltdown...That’s all I was doing hiding a fucking anxiety attack!" She scoffed running a comb through your hair making sure the product was evenly spread through the strands preparing to split it into two plaits to hide under the wig.
"Babe I saw the video there was more going on there..Perhaps you should watch it and see for yourself It really was like watching someone flip a switch" You shook your head slightly resulting in having the comb waked across it again making you flinch
"Stay still! Its bad enough that you fucking washed it! I can't plait it if your moving!" You sat straight
"SoRrY MoThEr-ouch fuck not with the brush!!" She smirked and carried on plaiting the strands neatly.
"Did you bring your lines to practice?" You went to nod but stopped when she sighed tugging on your hair a little keeping the plait tight to your head.
"Yes I did thought I could get some last minute reading...I think I've got them all down tho" she nodded
"That’s good because your wig is a little late, they are dying it again...Apparently yellow blonde isn't right for your skin so your getting a white silvery ash blond now...A muted tone they said. Think its basically going to be a super light blonde with a lilac or blue tint, fucking wish they would hurry up and choose I need to settle on your face tones! Any who it should be here in about an hour" you whined
"I could have had an extra hour in bed?! Why wasn't I told!? You know your job would be a lot easier if I had beauty sleep!" She laughed loudly tying your first plait off with an elastic before starting the other one.
"I'm sure it would but you do know this is like a late start? Some of the scenes your booked in here for one and two o'clock in the morning~" she through her head back laughing at your pout.You stayed in the make up trailer for a while and Holly had called over to wardrobe about the delay so,thankfully your costume was going to be delivered over here which was less running about for you. So here you were in hot seat waiting ,there wasn't much you or Holly could do at this point but wait. She couldn't work on your face until she had the the wig on you for color reference. She had left a few moments ago promising a coffee on her return.
You hummed scrolling through your phone messaging your eldest brother and Mother who you had let slip to about your new drastic career change. they were trying to calm you down, knowing you well enough that you was getting yourself into wound up ball of anxiety and panic. You were so engrossed in your phone you didn't notice a certain bear trot in to the room until you had a huge snoot wedged under your phone trying to nudge your hands for some love. You jumped so on edge you yelled out as you was touched.
"OH FUCK WHAT IS-OOOH well hello there~" you looked around quickly then seeing you was still alone you decided to indulge and immediately placed your phone on the table in front of you and leaned back looking between your legs going gaga over the handsome boy. Kal was sitting looking up at you smiling panting away as you petted him on auto pilot. You blinked it took everything you had not to squee out loud somehow managing to keep it inside 'OH MY FUCK KAL! I'm like petting THE Bear... Wow he is so fucking fluffy!...Okay girl stop he is looking at you weird...That’s it chill don't scare him away...Good remember dogs can smell psycho....Cool and calm yeah he is just a dog...BUT HE FUCKING ISN’T THIS IS THE BEAR!' you leaned down cooing at him making baby talk as he lapped up the love moving his head to make you hit the right spots around his ears and chin. You managed to get over the fangirling and enjoy scratching the good boys ears digging your fingers in the thick fur enjoying the softness.
"Oh look at you!? So sweet huh?.....Are you a good boy?....Yesh you are! Cute baby! Getting your chin scratches such a fluffy good boy!" You giggled as he seemed to take your compliments to heart thumping his tail a few beats then stood up you followed rubbing down his back as he moved.
He must have liked your attention because before you know it he was climbing onto his hind legs leaning over your lap with his front paws. From there Kal had sneakily gone the whole nine yards, the happy Akita had some how clambered up into the chair with you making it squeak under the strain as he engulfed your lap still receiving his well earned scratches. You giggled at him moving your arms around him letting him do as he pleased rubbing his belly and chest he sat content leaning his weight on your chest pinning you to the back of the seat.
You grinned wrapping him in a big hug still twisting his fur in your fingers diligently showering him with the attention the good handsome boy deserved.
"Wow look at you such a handsome boy!... OH kisses to? Well aren't I a lucky lady" you moved at he tilted his head back licking at your face being a right soppy little pup, out for all the love he could get.
"Wow your lucky Holly hasn't done my face yet, she won't like you ruining all her hard work!" He pulled away and just panted happily then rested his head on your shoulder huffing. You smiled still hugging him rubbing you face into his fur. Then out of the blue his tail began thumping your leg in excitement. You pulled back from the hug and brushed your fingers through his coat seeing Holly and Henry arrive.
"Oh haha. Looks like Kal made a friend!" Holly giggled Henry sighed looking for him then gasped doing a double take when he saw the Akita draped across you sitting on your lap leaning his head on one shoulder as you petted him. His heart clenched a smug sort of 'that’s my boy!' he enjoyed seeing you snuggling the bear, it was something he could get used to seeing. He snapped out of it and made his way to you both.
"KAL! You what are you doing boy? Come on down!...Tin-I err Y/n I am so sorry... He doesn't usually do this... Come on Kal you big lump! Your probably crushing her!" Kal eyed Henry from the corner of his eye pretending not to here him huffing loudly past your ear. You smiled and waved Henry off trying to be casual as your inner fangirl raged pretty much foaming at the mouth. You was thankful that Kal was ignoring his dad as his big frame hid your creeping blush giving you the confidence to speak as you tucked your face further into him as you spoke quietly.
"I-its fine really...I...Y-yeah was kind of worrying about today he I... I think he sensed my anxiety...His cuddle is helping a lot..." Henry stopped his approach eyeing the two of you. He meant what he said Kal was well behaved and gentle but he never cuddled on a stranger's lap, not like he did with him anyway. But he knew Kal picked up on anxiety attack's and it was entirely possible he had wandered in here and wanted to comfort you. Henry blushed a little and took his seat next to you nodding trying to take in the scene before him as much as possible.
"Okay...W-well don't let him guilt trip you, that boy gets so many cuddles its unbelievable... Just..I-if he gets to much get him down...He knows he isn’t allowed on the chairs..hehe not that you can tell... Its best not to spoil him too much" you flushed smooshing your face in to the Akita’s neck trying to hide from the man who seemed to be staring yet again. He moved forward placing two coffees before you then placed his in front of him. You rose a brow at the two cups.
"I-I...ahem I wasn't sure how you'd want it-fuck haha... Shit.... I meant the drink....you-your coffee...Fuck... I didn't know how you liked your coffee" you blinked at him as he got a little flustered you groaned as you reached forward peeking at the cup as Holly moved about behind you moving her equipment around.
"Henry was already picking you up a coffee insisted on getting it treated me to~" you smiled and reached over popping the lids the first black the other with milk.
"T-thank you ...you didn't have to" his face split into a grin as he mentally pat himself on the back.
"No no your welcome! These four am starts are pretty brutal for anyone to get used to..." he chuckled as you moved over sipping the coffee slowly, you tried not to pull a face it was a little to bitter for your taste needing one more sugar but you didn't want to seem rude. An awkward silence fell over the two of you and he sat there staring, you kept taking small sips trying to hide more in Kals shadow.
"S-Sorry for the coffee....Its a bit bitter I know...Should of added more sugar"
Henry was kicking himself as the silence grew, great fucking brilliant the first time he gets you alone and he says something like that!? scolding himself and his own fucking stupidity. 'How you'd want it? What the fuck Cavill?! Smooth why not just come out and say how should I fuck you? Yeah wait a go!' He sighed leaning back in the chair eyeing you as you sat clearly uncomfortable with him there 'yeah and now be a creeper and stare that will fucking help...Still staring mate stiilll staring....SAY SOMETHING FOR GOD SAKE!' That did the trick he could see you were trying to hide your distaste over the coffee. 'There apologize for shit coffee!' That was his opportunity!"S-Sorry for the coffee....Its a bit bitter I know...Should of added more sugar" he watched with baited breath shivering as you licked at a small loose drip off your bottom lip and gulped. Definitely nervous... Or maybe you just didn't like him? That could be it! you did run from him and you flirted with Joey not him. Henry could feel a lump in his throat and felt a weight on his chest...Was that it you just didn't like him?...He hummed trying to ease the heavy feelings around him, his own anxiety starting to creep over him he clenched his jaw. No you had no reason to dislike him...You didn't know him he would just have to interact with you thats all...Make him self known then? And then? Maybe let you know he was interested...Drop hints?. He straightened up in his seat a wave of determination washed over him he tilted his head looking at Kal trying not to be creepy as shit.
"I err no thank you...I-its fine... Ive got a huge sweet tooth anyway..." he smiled you were talking, albeit quietly and stuttering but it was a start! He could work with that.
"I will have to...Err remember that for next time." He watched you spin the cup and frown slightly seeing the scribbled name on it. Shit you must think he was an ass! It wasn't your name it was his and Joeys nickname for you....Wow how could he think that was a good idea! You must think he'd forgot your actual name!
"I err me and-well that’s....Fuck" you looked at him a little sad. Yep definitely thought he'd forgot...Tinks had just stuck.
"Me err me and Joey ...well joey gave you a nick name so...it stuck I'm sorry you must think I'm a dick" you shook your head taking a deep breath closing your eyes then placed a false smile. For a self proclaimed 'non-actress' you did so effortlessly and supposedly without even knowing bottling up you feelings and slapping on a smile... He wasn't sure he liked it, faking a smile when he could tell he had upset you.
"It's fine...I don't think your a-a dick...H-how can I expect you to remember silly details like that... We did only meet once and you've got more things to worry about" 'and award to the biggest prick on set goes to drum roll...you ,you fucking ass! Fix it! Fix it now Henry! Look even Kal isn't impressed!' He quickly lent forward wanting to fix his fuck up like right fucking now!
"No! No nothing like...I mean its not a silly detail! Your name it's- y/n I know it! I know your name! Me and Joey have seen you around for a while he called you Tink's..Its after Tinkerbell!..A-a nickname just a nickname nothing meant by it!.....We called you it for so long it just stuck when we spoke about you and ....Well I thought it suited you so just sort of...Yeah.." you blinked at him then looked back to the cup.
"T-Tinkerbell?"
'Holy shit! They gave you a nickname oh my god! that’s crazy....Right focus girl see he didn't forget either he knows you knows your name!...Fuck me! life got weird quick' You bite your lip looking at him confused then glanced to the cup Tink's scribbled across it haphazardly. You smiled at it trying to fight down the building squeal of excitment, it was so sweet you it made you feel...welcome? You'd been worried that you being on the job now had put a strain on everyone. It seems as if everyone has had to work harder because of you and you felt almost...guilty like an inconvenience. Kal sat up pulling away from you then tucked his snout under your chin snorting into your chest. You moved ruffling the base of his ears lightly.
"T-Tinkerbell?" He smiled softly as you pampered Kal you must have started getting upset as Kal moved digging into you comforting you. He loved how Kal was helping you when he himself couldn't. He hissed through his teeth nervously and moved his head around slightly.
"Well...Yes Joey had seen you...And you reminded him of a fairy he just sort of started calling you Tink's you know? after Tinkerbell....It fits....Small and cute" you pressed your face back to Kal tucking your glowing cheeks. He called you cute 'aaaaahhhhhhhgggggg! Cute he. Henry-Mother-Fucking- Cavill called you cute! He thinks your fucking cute fuckingohmygod! Yes girl GET IT!...Right okay and chill woooo! Right yep done? done!'
"I...We will stop if you don't like it ...Its probably weird right?" You shook your head pulling away from his dog when you were sure you could pass the blush off as a chill or something.
"No its...Its fine...I-I just didn't think...You know cos of me you-everyone has a shit tonne more work now...Just feel like well..I don't know burden I suppose" his face dropped.
'you what? You thought you were a burden?' He blinked forgetting all his anxieties and nerves overcome with a need to help you, you got it wrong so so wrong he is ecstatic you were now his costar! He cant wait to get going! That’s why he is here nearly forty five minutes early! So he can get to know you he gathered you must be nervous and well...He wanted to be your knight in shinning amour....Or witcher in leather doublet a it were. Everyone who was 'in the know' was just so happy that you’d decided to do this, your saving The Witcher for Christ sake! But you didn't see it like that? He moved over grasping your hand without thinking,it was only when he felt you tense he realized he was touching you but by some act of god he managed to beat down a full blown fucking melt down trying not to dwell on how soft your skin was. 'Why it is so soft?....what does she do?...Moisturizer?.....Wonder if she'd let you watch?- WOAH OKAY THERE BOY SLOW DOWN!.....But she even smells ugh fuck could just eat this woman....Henry! Stop fucking sniffing her...Shes upset and your just here being so..FUCKING ...CRINGE! Seriously!?...Now would be the time to speak cavill...I mean you are just rubbing her wrist staring ...Again.' he swallowed managing to hopefully shake away his thought before you got too creeped out by him.
"No! No don't Please don't ever feel like that...Your not a burden to me or-or Joey or anyone here! Your keeping this going if it wasn't for you we'd all be out of work...I-I am really grateful for you choosing to help...I Love this role-this project and your the one who has saved it!...I know it must be hard trying to navigate all this but please if you ever need help or anything you can come to me ....Even if its just to talk ....Promise me if you ever start thinking or ever made to feel like that come talk to me...Okay I mean that y/n you can come talk to me anytime" Henry watched seeing an array of emotions cross your eyes you were still unsure but he would help. He would be there for you if it was the last thing he did, he wanted to be a colleague, friend, someone you could come to and confide in!
He wanted you to come to him if you got overwhelmed of upset he had already been speaking about the press tour after he was trying to make sure you were never going to be alone in interviews he wanted to protect you form the more public side that was going to be the real shock. Filming was easy you knew what you were in for but tv? Journalists and critics? Yes that was going to be... A wake up call luckily for you Henry was going to be all over you by then he hoped. When it boiled down to it he wanted to be so much more then a mentor and friend but for now he would work towards friendship and try to get one conversation over with out fucking up stuttering or blushing. You blinked and nodded slowly.
"Th-thank you for saying that-" he shook his head you didn't believe him and smiled what he hoped was sincerely.
"Its not just words I do truly mean it Tink’s...I'm here for you and so is Kal apparently" he smiled when he got you to giggled the moment of doubt truly passed as you snuggled the bear again. 'And breath...Well that went well...Fuck she is so cute with him, I should get a picture...you know to commemorate her first proper day...Would that be weird of him? Hey can I have a photo of you to keep on my phone please?..Yeah okay maybe not like that' it was sweet watching as kal quickly become your teddy bear. The pup seemed not to mind in the slightest just happy to be getting away with blue murder and get cuddles for it!. He had moved and was now resting his head on your other shoulder sitting up with his back to Henry, Kal was basically hugging you tucking your neck and shoulder under his chin to his chest.
Henry smiled nodding cutely seemingly pleased with himself as he pulled back then. He blinked quickly as if remembering something and sat up getting his phone out he was about to speak but was cut off by the sound of the door as it opened again it was then that Holly made an appearance, you didn't even notice she had left. You smiled happy feeling better in yourself Henry's words meant something you actually believed that he meant it. It was nice to know he didn't hold anything against you for all the extra work your arrival had dumped on him.
"Haha! Here they are one wig for you sir! And for the lady!" She placed two wigs on the table in front of your respective chairs, both of which were pinned on two wig mannequin's. You placed you feet on the bar sitting up getting a groan for one Kal who was comfy.
"Oh shush you" Henry huffed a laugh as you scolded the bear.
"Wow that’s... How'd they even do that?" Henry looked over to yours and whistled. It was sleek and very very light ah blonde you could just see a hint on lilac from the toner used giving the hair an almost ethereal look yet still a believable tone. Holly gushed
"I know right! They said they took into account your hair color now because of how it complimented your skin....Honestly it mean you wont need as much color correcting as before with the gold! And along side this these came to!" She moved producing a small pile of contact lenses boxes. You looked to her uneasy making some weird unconvincing sound.
"Oh hush love~ contacts aren't that bad! You just pop 'em in" you blinked and gave her a look.
"Yeah...pop em in your fucking eyes! That you need to see!...God they can't like slip back can they?" Henry and Holly chuckled and shaking their heads.
"No...They can't your lris is slightly bulged they sit on that bulge! I can categorical attest they do not slide back or get stuck...I promise trust me?" He tilted his head at you and you eyed the contacts 'well he has used them for a while..so he would know' you gave a slight nod
"Good I promise I won't stear you wrong! I normally wait until the hair and stuff is done and put them in just before make up, sometimes the hair on the wig can get catch them when styling and that is a bit uncomfortable especially if they move" you snapped your gaze to him
"M-Move!? B-but you- You just said they don’t!" He chuckled rubbing his hand over his neck.
"I-I well yes I did just say that...W-What I meant is they can't go to the back of your eye...But if you touch them once in they can slip just...Once their in don't touch them until you want to take them out and you will be fine" you eyed him carefully and nodded.
Holly moved about the room quickly switching make up pallets and the woman in charge of Henry's hair and make up came in with her kit opening it ready to get started. You couldn't help but be relieved in a way to have him turn and stat a conversation with her taking the heat off you. 'AANNDD BREATH...well that wasn't to bad? Sure you used kal as a hiding spot but the good boy didn't mind' you looked to the content dog still rubbing his tummy absent minded. 'Yeah the bear was happy, soo your first real conversation with the stunningly handsome Mr Cavill wasn't to bad....But fuck he thought you were cute? Oh boy that is just fucking mind blown! There you go girl you could die right now and be one very happy woman!... And he wants to help you! And you know I do think he meant that....He is very sweet, and he got you coffee! AAAHHHGGG! Like not dinner but the man got you food...Well food it was a coffee...Still he got it for you babe! You go girl!' Your thoughts were interrupted when a cheerful Joey made an appearance at the door
"Good morning! How are we all today?" You smiled at how happy he was. He got a series of replies from grunts to 'fine how are you?' He spotted you and laughed.
"Shit Kal? Pulling the moves already? You know she's twice your age a tleast?" The dog huffed and you petted him giggling.
"Don’t listen to him boy~ you be you...such a good little pup huh? Yesh you are...And your keeping me warm huh? Little hot water bottle....Yesh you are...You an sit on my lap any time good baby~" Henry chuckled out of the side of his mouth trying not to move as his make up artist began to comb through his hair readying him for the wig.
"God don't tell him that, he would never get off if he could help it, he love his cuddles...And snout kisses its why he is holding his head like that by the way...He wants kisses" you giggled and looked at Kal who was sitting still holding his cheek near your face.
"Oh baby~ you want kisses?" You quickly moved in peppering kisses on his cheek. When you stopped you laughed as he turned to you giving kisses back. Henry smiled your laugh becoming something he was determined to hear at least once a day!
Joey watched slyly. It seemed Henry was going to have Kal be a wing man...dog? In his journey of wooing you. He smirked he would help to! It was clear that you liked Henry ...Henry certainly liked you so it won't take to much pushing.
"So Henry...What are you doing here? Your early not meant to be here until five. " Henry froze and looked panicked and met Joeys eyes in the mirror. Joey smirked knowing full well You had heard Henry squinted at the singer giving him a 'what the fuck?' Look
."I-I wanted to make sure Tinks was okay...It is her first day...Dont want her to be in here going through the motions alone we are a team" Joey smirked 'well okay if that how you want to play'
"Thats very sweet of you!, Oh! Yes we need pictures! It is your first day Tinks!" He turned to Henry's artist who had just got the wig on. Leaning down he grasped the witchers shoulders squeezing.
"Can I brorrow him?" She smiled nodding with a chuckle Joey smiled and ushered Henry up swiping the mans phone from the side and handed it to Holly, who took it and stepped back as joey spun your chair around to face her.
"Do you mind? We need to document this, The day the witcher was saved!" You blushed as both Joey and Henry stood either side of you ,They each crouched a little placing their faces next to yours and smiled, Henry had tucked kal's head to the side so he could get a good view of you. Once the photos were snapped Joey looked at them excited.
"Wow! Henry you have to send these to me so I can tweet them!" You blushed as Henry nodded grinning then looked you his screen then to you. He could kiss Joey! Henry now had a reason to get your number, whatsapp ,face book fuck everything!
"I will send these to you...You know if you want, I mean you don't have to if Joey is tweeting them... But I could send them....Only if you want... No pressure!" Joey sighed watching the great white wolf fumble over his words still rambling. Even the other women were watching fascinated as the unshakable Henry got himself all flustered.
"You know make memories... A-along the way...You never know Tink’s could be the start of a completely new career!haha..." An awkward silence fell over the room as henry eventually trailed of with a nervous laugh. Joeys eyes fell to you, you sat dead still shocked then finally blinked snapping out of what ever thoughts were going on you were slowly blushing. You were definitely interested.
"I-I err sure you can send them to me... Here I'll give to my number..." Joey smiled nodding pleased with himself. That worked beautifully if he did say so himself. Henry sent him a thankful glance as you exchanged numbers. He turned as he had a tap on his shoulder.
"Oh god its time already? I hoped to get to know our Tink's...Oh well we can chat on set" he moved around you sitting on the other side of Henry and sat down letting his own artist begin.
You had sat in the chair for another hour or so getting tweaked then had been ushered to change in a sectioned off little changing room. You came back out ready to see Keira for the first time. Henry and Joey stole glances at you
"Wow...Fuck you look...Wow" you smiled at Henry shyly as he kept sweeping his eyes over you seemingly awed at the final look. If you were honest it made you a little self conscious. How could it not! he was; if you squinted, kind of checking you out..In a way? you avoided eye contact willing yourself to calm down as your heart pounded away at top speed.
"What he means is you look fantastic!" You smiled unsure and pulled at the skirt of the dress, your first scene with them was a party so it was very elegant it was designed to be seductive with a swooping neckline and swirling delicate detailing over the collar it was heavy to being made out of a heavy velvet material you were happy there wasn't any running you'd collapse in minuets.
"Th-thanks...Its heavier then I remember..." Joey smiled admiring the look."You look brilliant! Look Henry is speechless!" Henry swallowed dryly. Fuck you looked quickly then turned away... Wow... His fantasy was nothing compared to you here in full costume... Henry shook his head remembering every detail to recall later.
"Y-you look...Better then I imagined! It-she....Your..." you flushed a little and moved past him to your seat wanting to sit down and calm yourself being in costume had brought it home you were doing this...You were going to actually be in witcher as a cast member!. You sat down taking a deep breath. You could feel the anxiety .Shit. Kal popped his head out from under Henry and glanced up at you he was still sulking.
"What puppy?! I'm sorry...I know Holly is so mean huh? making you jump down like that" He huffed again ears twitching then he heaved himself up again and sat before you tapping you with a large paw, you smoothed your hands across him somehow just petting the gentle boy was calming you down. Henry and Joey exchanged looks Kal must be picking up on your nerves.
"Yes oh I know... But don't worry we can have cuddles after okay?" You said calming considerably as you spoke to him. Henry chuckled at the exchange and Joey piped up.
"Is he being a grumpy boy?" Henry tilted his head.
"No a needy boy I think... he has got a new favorite snuggle buddy" you blushed at that and soon Kal laid down out of petting distance. All three of you were nearly done...Well you were done, you hadn't until now seen the whole get up together wardrobe and hair and make up had been separate until now. You quickly glanced up and froze wow...This new wig was definitely better now, you felt... you didn't know it was completely strange seeing someone different staring back at you in the mirror.
"Wow....Thats-this is crazy..." you leaned in turning your head this way and that moving your hand slowly to your face, Henry smiled at you.
"Yes...It's always strange the first time in character..." you nodded to him dumbly still inspecting yourself moving to run your fingers threw you 'hair'
"So fucking weird"
"And about to get a whole lot weirder! time for these bad boys~" you whined at Holly as you watched her wave the slim box holing your contacts.
"Oh? please tell me she isn't getting blue? I love the green!"Joey protest was flattering as he and Henry came closer wanting to see, you stood awkwardly twisting your hands in the sleeves of your costume. Henry smiled opening your box peeking at the color
"Hey...They're going to look amazing! Tink’s you get green look!" Joey leaned over and smiled
"Yeah and they have that nice dark ring around the outside to! really going to pop...Well come on girl get them in we have what ten minuets?" he directed his question to Holly who giggled nodding. You gulped looking at the small colored discs warily...
"How? I've never...They're safe right? wont get stuck of something?" Henry seeing another opportunity to bond with you jumped up collecting his own contacts box Joey took a step back so you could et closer and watch Henry's lesson smirking knowingly as a stupid uncharacteristic grin spread across 'Geralt's' face.
"Here look its fine...Just hold it like this...And pinch it if it folds like this..see? Like that...Then its okay if it curls out and has a lip then its inside out." You watched as he gave you a quick glance.
"I-Inside out? wh-what happens if that happens?" Henry quickly tried reassuring you.
"No! its not-it will just be uncomfortable...Nothing bad will happen or anything its just irritable....Right pick yours up like I’m doing...That's it!...See...Then hold open your eye and....Just try and pop it in...You can do it looking down or up which ever is comfy, I'm used to it so can do it standing up right....And if it moved like mine just has...Typical! just look around and....There see! easy!" Henry explained his contacts lesson well, it did seem simple he let you watch as he placed in the other contact explaining once again how to put them in as he did. You watched intently blushing each time he moved in closer so you could see.
"O-okay...So just press it and it will stick?" he nodded and you bit your lip 'come on girl...that's it just like when you do liquid eyeliner stab your eyeball with it!' you looked to you mirror and began to poke your eyes with Henry and joey watching closely commenting as you did so. One Joey pep-talk and eighteen tries later you finally got them in with a tiny round of applause ,It was actually pretty cool, your eyes popped a really bright and had a dark ring that made your iris a little larger adding to the ethereal atheistic.
The three of you made your way out of the trailer as Geralt ,Jaskier and keira. You took a deep breath when you saw the cameras and lighting as you walked onto set.
"Fuck...shit, shit, shit" Henry and Joey slowed walking beside you patting your back. Henry wrapped an arm around you making sure you didn't bolt which you looked ready to any second, had you not been so panicked you would have clammed up under his heavy arm but it wasn’t on the top of your list of things to worry about right now. Joey followed suit holding you around your back squishing you between them and smiled down at you directing you to the frightening amount of people milling about doing various jobs.
you’d seen it all before but being behind the scenes was completely different to being in front of the camera you slowed until you was barley moving at all.
"Come on Tink’s" with his prompting Joey had in fact sped you up a little, he was stronger then he looked. You took deep breaths trying not to freak out as everyone turned looking at the new comer.
"Th-thats a lot of people.." Joey and Henry hummed in agreement
"Well its a big deal...you've been cherry picked from the assistants Tink's word has got around but everyone wants a peek.." Joey cheerful as ever chuckled into your hair as they got closer to Tomasz who was waiting for you all.
It was when you saw the director that you really freaked trying to turn around but they two men grunted
"Oh no you don't...Come on your fine"
"I forgot my lines" Henry scoffed
"That fine we memorized them for you to, besides why do you think Tomasz made you do improv?"
"O-okay....I need the bathroom" Joey giggled still helping guide you into the huge makeshift banquet hall
"No you don't its nerves" you shook as they continued ushering you out in front of the crew
"I'm going to be sick" Henry chuckled as bad as it was he couldn't help thinking you looked pretty cute panicking like this trying desperately to find a way to run off and hide.
"Again that’s nerves just breath...We wont let anything happen okay? just take a deep breath...Good now out your going to be fine" you did as he had said to focused on the upcoming filming to even squeal about him looking out for you.
Finally you stopped in front of Tomasz who smiled at you kindly.
"Wow...Look at you! perfect! absolutely perfect! Ready?" You shook your head looking around it felt like everyone involved in the projects was hear to see the stand in.
"No...Not really" he laughed and shook his head at you...You were serious....didn't he think you were serious you fucking was! You didn't know whether you needed to be sick, panic ,cry or use the bathroom.
"...Why are there so many people?" He eyed the crowd
"Well you did pull this whole production from the brink of collapse...They are bound to want to see to woman who has stepped up...I'm sure everyone has told you already but this is a big deal...I don't think I have heard of someone completely untrained taking a role like this. Any way enough chit chat lets get to work shall we?" you were shaking in Keira's boots but...By way the two men still had you stuck firmly between them he knew you'd have all the support you needed, once you started it would be fine.
"Trust me you’ll do fine" he turned with a huge grin
"Places everyone! Remember camera four you start now from the top a sweeping motion left you right? good!" You gulped stomach dropping soon Henry and Joey are moving to their cue's leaving you with one final squeeze and your left on your own wondering. How the fuck did this happen again?.
You took a breath closing your eyes tight looking down collecting yourself pulling a more confident catty seductive woman from within. Unbeknown to you a hush fell over the scene as you did everyone holding their breath waiting to see if you could pull this off.
Joey smiled from beside Henry and said something but Henry didn't even hear what the man had to say, he just smirked entranced as he watched you transform before everyone about to prove to yourself and everyone in the room you could do this. Its what you did last time you closed your eyes and when you opened them you wasn't there anymore.
For anyone who understood what it was, it was incredible to watch everything changed your posture , your aura, your presence felt heavy and playful he could feel it from way over here. When your eyes opened you was a completely different person you could feel it here and now there was no y/n; you was Keira through and through. then with a slow count down the scene began.
"ACTION" you smirked holding your head high. Here we go!
#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fic#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill x ofc#witcher geralt#geralt x reader#geralt of rivia#the witcher
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Request for Awp! - “Who did that to you?” / Min/Nea /// Escaping trials is almost never easy.
It’s not supposed to be easy - the Entity making that very clear from the second its giant claw-like tendrils took Nea off her skateboard and put her here. Its destruction and hunger apparent, Nea knows she’s nothing more than a small pathetic fly caught up in it’s web, waiting to devour her whole. It’s taking a long fucking time then, she thinks to herself as she hobbles back toward the campfire. The Killer had gotten one last good hit on her before she left through the gate - the only one who managed to escape during this particular trial - and she couldn’t wait to get there and get patched up. She spots familiar faces looking at her as she comes out of the forest, some warm and welcoming and others a bit wary yet relieved that she made it out nonetheless. She knows their wariness only comes out of concern for the ones who didn’t make it back alive there, and who will come back to the campfire sometime later. She holds her side tighter with one of her hands and uses the other one to wave. “I made it out this time!” She cheerfully yells. In the background she sees Bill reluctantly hand over a pack of cigarettes to Ace, the latter pointedly looking at Nea and giving her a thumbs up with his signature crooked, gleeful smile. She’d have to ask them the details of their bet on her later. Based on the fact that Ash isn’t around them, she assumes that he was one of the ones to be pulled into a trial after her. She quietly wishes him luck. “Nea!” She turns her head and an even better and comforting sight greets her in the form of Min sitting patiently on one of the logs. She walks over to her girlfriend and, carefully yet painfully, sits down next to her with a groan. “Hey, babe,” she wheezes out. Despite the excess movement, her wound doesn’t get any worse thanks to the Entity making sure everyone is healed and at top shape before their trials. Can’t play with broken toys, after all. Min clicks her tongue before reaching behind the log and grabbing a med-kit. A purple one at that. You’re lucky I brought this thinking that I was going to be one of the next people to go,” she says, pushing Nea’s shirt up slightly to address the wound. “Who did this to you?” Nea winces at the antibiotic ointment Min rubs on her. “Laurie’s favorite older brother.” Min snorts. “Fucker,” she mutters. “You don’t have to patch me up, by the way,” Nea tells her. “Especially not with your fancy med-kit. The Entity will heal me up soon enough.” “And the Entity will fill my med-kit back up soon enough,” she counters. “I’d rather you not be in any more pain than you need to, so...” she trails off as she tapes a bandage over her work. “Thanks,” Nea smiles at her, and Min smiles back. Nea moves in closer and gives her a kiss in appreciation, which the other gladly returns. She doesn’t mind how long the Entity prolongs her death, just as long as she has her girlfriend with her.
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