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angelinasway · 3 years ago

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Regaining Hope

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever. Authors Notes: Thank you all so much for being so very supportive. You guys have been absolutely wonderful. Seriously I couldn't ask for a better group of readers. I need to warn you all that this chapter has quite the graphic and gruesome scene in it, so if that's not your thing I highly recommend skipping the part where Clark starts to watch the video. Some major questions answered here. Hope you all enjoy, and keep the reviews coming. Special thanks to my ever amazing beta Hipkarma. She always helps and inspires me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Chapter Eight

Dawn smirked as she saw the caller ID flash. So, Buffy had talked to Wes. That was good. She really didn’t want to have to break into the Watchers Council just because she was nosy and worried for her sister. Buffy hadn’t told her much when they talked yesterday, just that there was some sort of prophecy about her and this Clark guy, which just raised all sorts of red flags for her. Dawn had insisted on seeing a copy of the prophecy and her hackles raised even more when she found out how quiet Wes and Willow were trying to keep this. Looks like big sis came through however, and now it was time to give the man on the other line hell for keeping something this important from her.

“Xand, honey, can you take Abby? Wes is on the phone and it’s time for her nap anyway.” Dawn said, reaching for the phone.

“No!” Her one and a half your old screeched at the top of her lungs, making Dawn cringe. When they coined the phrase, ‘children are your parents secret revenge,’ they weren’t lying. Abigail was just like her too, even in looks.

Xander came out of their shared office, a crooked and amused smile on his lips. “You should know by now not to say that word in front of her,” He said, kissing Dawn on the forehead before reaching out and swooping up their toddler. “Come on Abby,” he said as Dawn answered her call. “Daddy will read you your favorite story.”

“Try to get Joyce down too,” She added, before saying into the phone, “Hello Wes, so good of you to finally call me.”

She heard the groan on the other end of the line and smiled. “How much do you know?”

“That there’s a prophecy about my sister and some uber-powerful guy she’s been spending time with, on your instruction I might add.” Dawn said in a mockingly sweet voice.

She heard him sigh. “Yes, that is all true. Look Dawn, I’m going to send you a copy of the prophecy through your secure fax now. We’ve been able to translate some of it, but there are certain areas where…I don’t think the language is of this world. It’s nothing like we’ve ever seen in any human or demon writings before.”

Dawn got up and walked into the office, a frown on her face. “You mean like interdimensional, there’s gotta be a reference somewhere Wes.”

There was silence over the line and for a second and she thought Wes had hung up. She’d just opened her mouth to see if he was still there, when he finally said, “No Dawn, that’s not what I meant at all.”

Her frown deepened as the first page spat out of the machine. She slid it off the rack and looked at the prophecy. There were several different languages written on the copy, Etruscan, Ancient Sumerian, Ancient Greek, and Latin. At the top were strange symbols unlike anything she’d ever seen before, almost flowing together like cursive. The next page that came out was Wesley and Willow’s translation of that page. She bit her lip, walking over to her desk and went to work making sure what they had translated so far was correct.

“So,” she began casually, “what I’m getting from the first page is that this guy is much farther from home than just another dimension.” She paused, huffing in annoyance as she snootily added,” It was Sun God by the way, not Star God.” She sighed. “Who are you using anyway, Basile?”

“Vonten,” He answered and Dawn rolled her eyes. Of course, he was using that moron’s guide.

“Vonten is an arrogant prick Wes, that book confuses people more than it helps. Burn it, it’s better as kindling. Bachman is the best at Etruscan and Ancient Sumerian, and you already know Ancient Greek and Latin enough not to need a reference.” She said, before frowning as she came to the part about the soulbond. “Wes, what the hell is a soulbond, and why is this referencing my sister and Mr. E.T. having one?”

As Wesley began to explain what they knew so far, Dawn's face began to pale. Oh, this was not of the good. Buffy was gonna wig to the nth degree when she found out.

"Does she know any of this?" Dawn asked, turning around and grabbing more of the pages that were still spitting out of her printer.

"She knows about the bond. I told her this morning." He answered.

"And what, you’re waiting until she gets pregnant before you tell her the rest?" Dawn asked angrily. "You know this is gonna freak her out..."

"Which is why I decided not to tell her." Wes interrupted.

"If you'd let me finish," Dawn snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. "I was going to say this is gonna freak her out, but it would be better if you tell her now." She huffed in frustration. "This just proves how little you guys know my sister. She absolutely will freak and she'll probably fight it at first. Just the idea of her own children having to live the life she has, is not gonna be a happy, joyous moment for her. She's already worried that Joyce or Abby, or maybe even both will be called one day.” Dawn said, before emphasizing her next words, "However, my sister is not stupid, and when push comes to shove, she'll make the right decision like she always does. I get that you’re worried about the Slayer line Wes, we all are, but keeping this from her is not the right way to go about it.”

She heard Wes’s sigh, “I realize that Dawn, but with the bond itself needing to be fulfilled, I thought that was more than enough for both of them to handle at this time.”

Dawn looked at the pages covered in the strange flowing script, similar to the symbols on the first page. Wes was right, it was a language. "We need to find a way to translate this. Do you think this is Clark's language from his home world?"

The line was silent for a moment, before he said in annoyance, “Yes, that’s what I meant when I said I don’t think the language is of this world.”

“Do you think Clark knows how to read it?” Dawn asked.

A sigh came over the line, “I honestly don’t know. I believe he just discovered where he came from, so I don’t see how he could.” He paused in thought and then murmured to himself, “But even if he can’t, perhaps the ship has a historical archive or maybe there is some form of AI technology that could translate it for us.”

Dawn frowned, “What ship?”

As Wesley explained how Buffy and Clark met and the danger Buffy had recklessly put herself in, Dawn found her ire sparking at Buffy’s stupidity. “I’m gonna kill her!” Dawn growled. “She hasn’t done something that reckless since Joyce was born. God fucking dammit, she promised me!”

Wesley sighed. “In her defense, it could have very well been her fate that made her act so rashly.” He paused before saying, “In any case, Clark was there and according to Buffy, he saved her and watched over her after she went into a healing sleep.”

Dawn was quiet as she processed that information. So, she didn’t die, which meant Buffy actively tried to stop it from happening. That was good, she was still getting smacked when Dawn saw her, but at least she hadn’t completely broken her promise from three and a half years ago. It was also good to see that this godlike Champion the prophecy spoke of wasn’t just a creature with a penchant for destruction playing at being a white hat because of a curse. That was a nice change.

“What else do you know about him?” Dawn asked. “I’m assuming you started trying to find him as soon as you started translating this.”

“Well,” Wesley began, “We first caught wind of a possible candidate about a year ago. We’d been monitoring airwave chatter for possible beings with superhuman strength when we caught a lead. A distress call came in about an oil rig off the coast of Canada in flames and about to explode. In that communication there was talk of a man rescuing the crew members aboard the rig and preventing the tower from collapsing on the rescue helicopter with his bare hands.” He paused for a moment, before saying. “We managed to find a few other incidents of him saving people, one that happened when he was thirteen. According to the incident report, his school bus went off a bridge and into the river. Three witnesses stated that a young Clark Kent managed to push the bus out of the water and rescue his classmate.”

Dawn whistled, “So this guy really is the real deal white knight, huh?”

“It would appear so.” He sighed.

“Wes we’re gonna need to access that ship.” Dawn said, looking over a small section of Sumerian that talked about a trial of choice. The rest of the page was in the alien script however, so any clue as to what that meant was beyond her.

“I know,” Wesley agreed.

“Which means, we’re gonna have to tell Buffy and Clark everything.” Dawn reiterated.

She heard Wesley groan, but he conceded nonetheless. “Alright fine, Willow needs to bring them some pendants to stave off the worst of the compulsion the bond is creating. I’ll have her stop by and get you on her way, unless you want me to tell Buffy myself, that is.”

Dawn shook her head, “No, no. I think it will be safer for everyone if I’m the one to do it.” Then she bit her lip in thought, “And don’t bother with Willow, just call me when she gets back. I think I need to do this one on my own.”

“Very well,” Wes agreed. “Willow should be finished within the next few hours. I’ll call you as soon as I know she’s returned.”

“Alright, in the meantime I’m gonna go over this and make sure all the parts I can read are translated correctly.” Dawn said, adding, "Talk in a few," before hanging up.

She sighed, rubbing her fingers along her forehead. "Well fuck," she muttered to herself.

"Everything alright?" Xander asked, coming into the office.

"No, not really," she answered handing him the translated first page of the prophecy.

She watched his eye scan the words before he blew out a breath. "So, this guys an alien?"

"Looks like." She answered.

Xander snorted, "Man the Buffster really knows how to pick 'em, doesn't she?"

Dawn mock glared, before she couldn't contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, you know Buffy. She doesn't do anything by halves."

****<S>**<S>****

As Clark followed Buffy down the hallway, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He knew she had been trying to reassure him, but her words only had the opposite effect. Were they only feeling any of what they were because of the prophecy and furthermore, given the choice, would she even choose him? She had basically confessed to falling in love with her best friend. The history they had both shared, as disturbing as it was, was an important one to her. She had cared very deeply for this man. How could he ever live up to the memory of a man who had essentially changed a piece of himself for her? Part of him wanted to erase Spike’s memory from her mind, to do whatever he could to drive this man, this demon from her past and another part of him just felt wholly lost. He didn’t want to be anyone’s second best and he certainly didn’t want her to want him only because some guy thousands of years ago decided they were destined. God, he wished his dad was still alive. This would definitely be the type of thing his dad could help him through.

She stopped at a large set of double doors and turned, catching his expression before he had time to school it into a much more neutral one. She blinked in surprise, "Clark...what’s wrong?"

He shook his head, “It’s nothing Buffy.”

Her frown deepened, “Oh no, you definitely have something face. Talk to me. I promise whatever it is, I’ll try to understand.”

Clark shifted uncomfortably, before finally admitting, “I’m just feeling a little unsure about all this.”

Her eyes widened slightly, “Because of Spike?”

Clark sighed, “Well I mean think about it Buffy. You basically told me that you fell in love with your best friend and were willing to marry him for eternity, but the only reason you didn’t is because you were too scared. Would you even look twice at me if he was here now? Are the feelings I’m having for you even real, or is this just destiny trying to force us together?”

Realization flooded her expression, and she quickly shook her head. “I can’t speak for what-ifs, because I would be lying if I answered that either way…” She swallowed, “As for how you’re feeling, I’ve been under love spells before and granted you usually don’t know you’re under one when you are, but if the feeling’s part was being fabricated, we…we wouldn’t be able to fight this like we are. We would have probably already slept together.” She blushed, looking down. “Fabricated feelings they’re false obviously, but they’re very strong…strong enough to make people dangerous. If what we were feeling was a manifestation, you wouldn’t have these doubts Clark, you wouldn’t even realize there was doubts to be had.” She met his eyes then, her expression serious and stoic. “And as for the fear part, I didn’t want to get into it because…” She sighed again. “You remember how I told you that Angelus showed up right when I was starting to get my life back together?”

Clark nodded, “I remember.”

“Well, what I didn’t say is that I was planning on retiring.” She rolled her eyes, “I had this grand plan of going back to school and getting a degree in Art History and moving to Hawaii to open a gallery.” She shook her head, “It was stupid, I know.”

He immediately shook his head, “That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Buffy blushed. “I just mean it was stupid that I ever thought it could happen.” She shook her head, “Anyway, I started training a girl named Rayanne when we were first getting the new Watchers Council on its feet. She was bright, witty, resourceful and she already had the makings of someone who could be an excellent leader.” She looked at her feet, her hands clenching. “Me and Giles had agreed, in three-years-time, when Ray was eighteen, she would step in and fill my shoes. Faith didn’t want the position and the only other possible candidate that actually did, I flat out refused due to her inability to get along with just about anyone but Willow. I mentored Ray for over a year and she became…well, like a little sister to me. After the whole General Voll fiasco, I was ready to promote her to Senior Slayer status. She had been on it more than any other girl at the compound, helpful and demanding when need be. She’d fought through a horde of zombies and we came out of it with zero losses. The attack was completely unexpected and if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.” She met his eyes, “I was so proud of her.” Buffy sighed, “A few months later is when the first girl, Alicia went missing, and by the time Ray disappeared, there were already six that seemed to have just dropped off the planet.” She swallowed, “Angelus revealed himself and killed Giles a few weeks later, and almost three weeks after is when we found Alicia. She was the first and youngest to go missing and she was the first he dropped on our doorstep.” Buffy shook her head squeezing her eyes shut, “I knew what he was doing to Rayanne then, and that she would probably get the worst of it because of her association with me. Alicia was just a taste of what Angelus was capable of.” She opened her eyes, meeting his. “I wanted to have Spike claim me so we would be strong enough to save her and the rest of them, and I was scared because I knew I’d be asking for the wrong reasons. I was afraid Spike would know it too and I would only hurt him by asking. Does that make sense?”

It was Clark’s turn to avert his eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly.

She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through it, “Well just in case you have any doubts…” She swallowed, “I don’t even know why I kept this. Angelus loved tormenting me and we didn’t know it at the time but there were several Watchers from the old regime who were very unhappy with the way we were running things. Some of them made deals with Angelus, gave out my email and phone number and my location.” She looked at him, her lips pursed in anger. “One of them would even take video or pictures, documenting my pain for him when he couldn’t be there hiding in the shadows to see it.” She handed him her phone, “I’ve never watched this one, it’s the morning I found Rayanne, he saved her for last. I don’t need to see it, I lived it.” She nodded at her phone, “When he sent it, I didn’t even open it. I just dropped it in an archive and it’s been there ever since.” She shook her head, “I highly recommend only opening the third video file, the one that says, ‘Are you broken yet?’ She met his eyes then, “The first two will be what he did to her. So, unless you feel like throwing up, I would skip those.” She gestured with her chin at the double doors. “I’ll be in there beating on a bag, meet me when you’re done.”

She turned without another word and went through the double doors not looking back. Clark looked down at the phone swallowing heavily, before opening the file. The video began with the image of the front of a house, not unlike the one they were in now, except there was a large tree in front and something very obviously dangling from it. It looked to be sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps early morning, but he couldn't tell either way due to the lights on the house illuminating everything.

The person carrying the camera ran towards the house and a refined British voice in distress yelled, "Ms. Summers, come quickly. I think it may be Miss Stevenson."

The front door flew open and there she was, except she looked nothing like she did now, her eyes were wild, feral even, and she was so pale and sucked up. She looked hollow, worn-down, nothing like the girl he’d spent the last couple of days getting to know. The scream that tore from her lips and the look on her face when she saw what was hanging from the tree, tore through him like a tidal wave of emotion. Clark felt himself growing angry at the Watcher, who was obviously playing both sides. Another man with bleached hair and nothing on but a pair of black jeans came flying through the door next, his eyes wild and worried.

The camera panned and followed Buffy as she ran out to the tree, falling to her knees and screaming again. Clark saw what was in the tree then and his stomach almost rebelled right then and there. It was a young girl, no older than sixteen and the only skin left on her body was on her beautiful face and near her pelvic region. The girl’s expression was frozen in a horrified scream that no one who cared ever had the chance to hear. A large white sheet wrapped itself tightly around the girl’s wrists and tied over the lowest branch, the excess linen draping behind the dead girl as some sort of sick backdrop silhouette for the body hanging lifelessly from the tree. There was hardly any blood to speak of, just a pinkish residue from where the body had touched the clean white linen, which told Clark she had been dead for more than a few hours. It wouldn’t be visible to a human through the recording, but because of his enhanced vision Clark could even see puncture wounds in places and deep gashes from where the girl had been restrained.

The blond man came into the picture then and the Watcher came towards them, circling around so he could see Buffy’s expression, or at least that’s what he assumed the person with the camera was doing. Buffy's mouth was open in silent gulping sobs, giant tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Love,” The blond man whispered in an apparent British accent not nearly as refined as the Watchers Clark had heard so far. The man fell to his knees behind her looking up at the tree. He shuddered as tears sprang to his electric blue eyes. “Don’t look Buffy…please kitten, please go back in the house.”

The man placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned at the gesture and Clark could no longer see her face as she flung herself into the man’s arms and began to sob harder. “It’s Ray,” she howled. “Oh god, it’s Ray.”

“Shh,” The blond man hushed, rubbing hands along her back in a comforting gesture. “I know,” He choked. “I know, love.”

“We…we can’t leave her like that.” She sobbed. “I-I have to get her down.”

Clark watched the blond man close his eyes and shake his head, “I’ll do it. Go back in the house, please Slayer.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head as Clark caught the silhouette of another man flying from the house and over to them. The sound of retching could be heard, and it took Clark a second to realize the sound came from whomever had just come from the house and seen the body. “It has to be me. Don’t you see, don’t you get it? I knew,” she sobbed. “I knew what he was doing to her and I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, sweet girl, you’ve been trying to find her. We all have. This isn’t your fault.” The man choked.

“It’s not good enough,” She screamed, shoving away from him and falling on her rear, “And it is my fault, all of it! They were called because of me, because I was too chicken shit to just except the power that was offered to me!”

A sob broke from her lips, and she turned looking directly at the cameraman a sudden realization dawning in her hollow eyes. “You!” She snarled, her eyes flashing. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She started marching towards the cameraman.

“Ms.…Ms. Summers,” Whomever was holding the camera stuttered and then she was there, a well-aimed kick flying towards the camera before Clark saw sky for a few seconds.

“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” She screamed suddenly hovering over the man, the wild fury in her eyes telling Clark that she had every intention of killing this man, and part of Clark couldn’t agree more. “No one else but an Angelus minion would have called me out here for Rayanne! Everyone else would know better!”

Clark watched as she threw a punch, the sickening sound of cartilage breaking ringing through the speaker as the guy howled in pain. The way her arms were angled next and the gurgling sound through the phone told him she was choking the man before three sets of arms suddenly grabbed her, pulling her off. Clark could hear the man wheeze as he tried to catch his breath while Buffy screamed and fought the three people who had pulled her away. Faith was one of them, and then the blond man, which Clark was pretty sure by now was Spike, and another man, tall, brunet, with an eyepatch. He saw Willow in the distance coming towards them and when she reached them, she touched Buffy’s shoulder before she could react and muttered a few words that sounded like Latin. Buffy suddenly collapsed and Clark realized Willow had put her to sleep. All eyes then turned towards the cameraman.

“Get her in the house, Xander.” Spike growled.

“Uh, Spike–” Xander started to say when Spike turned on him.

“Get her in the bloody fucking house, now!” He snarled, a sound like grinding bone emanating from the man as his voice altered to something more sinister. “I’m not going to kill him.” He said turning back towards the camera as two glowing amber eyes stared at Clark.

“Speak for yourself,” Faith said marching towards the man. “I’ve been getting those fucking emails too.”

“So have I,” Willow said, her eyes black as she stared the camera down.

“We won’t have to kill him,” Spike clarified as he fell in step with Faith. “Angelus will do that for us.”

“How you figure?” Faith asked, her eyes just as enraged as Buffy’s had been.

Spike suddenly sprung forward, his arm reaching out and a ripping sound emanated as the man screamed. His hand came back with what looked like a wad of hair. “This enough Red?”

“Plenty,” Willow said, sudden realization dawning in her black eyes.

“Now,” Spike said, a sinister grin stretching his fanged mouth, to the whimpering man. “The way I figure it, you got three options. The first being, you can go back to Angelus and give him this tape, at which point he finds out we now have a way to track you, and oh trust me Marcus, he will most definitely kill you for that.” Clark heard the man begin to sob, and part of him wanted to turn off the video at that point but couldn’t look away at the furious amber eyes that stared back at the camera. “Option number two, you can destroy the tape and run, which if we’re being honest would be the preferable of the three, but I’m sure you are well aware of the kind of wrath he would bring down on you if he didn’t get to see his almost masterpiece complete, so I’m sure you won’t.” Spike’s hand suddenly flew forward and the man screamed in pain, “Or option three,” He growled, “Where you run like a coward and keep the tape for leverage, hoping that your usefulness hasn’t run its course.”

He suddenly had the camera in his hands, staring directly into the screen his eyes burning into the lens. “Looks like your mole got ousted. This is your last one, Angelus. We’re coming for you and when we’re done there won’t be anything left.” The screen suddenly went black as the video cut off.

Clark let out a trembling breath looking around him and realizing he had slid to the floor at some point, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he didn’t know, he didn’t understand until that moment. That poor girl, no wonder Buffy was desperate. How many girls did she find like that before this one was left for her? How many videos did she force herself to endure before this one was sent, even Faith and Willow had said this wasn’t the first one? Clark squeezed his eyes shut, she had told him, so had Gunn but to see it. She was driven half-crazy by what that vampire had done and he could not blame her for that. What would he do if it was his mother in that position? God, he could only imagine.

He shakily got to his feet, listening as he heard the sound of a fist hitting leather, he walked to the doors and threw them open, not stopping when she paused to look at him. He had to reassure himself that she was okay, that she wasn’t that angry creature that he saw in the video. He went straight to her, his arms coming around her in a crushing embrace before his lips met hers. God, she was so strong, he didn’t realize how much until that moment. Buffy immediately melted into him, her lips parting for him as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She was such a small woman, everything about her was deceptively tiny, except her strength and fortitude both physically and emotionally. To go through what she had and still be able to function on a normal level was just short of a miracle.

He pulled away and looked down into her green eyes, haunted by her past but not dead and hateful like in the video. He bent down and laid his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I…” He started, “I didn’t…I’m so sorry Buffy.” He whispered, and he could still feel himself trembling. “I didn’t… You hear words like torture, rape, and murder but–”

“They’re not real until you see it for yourself.” She finished in understanding.

Clark sighed, hugging her closely, her head resting against his chest. “I get it now, not…but I understand how desperate you must have been to try and save the girls from that.”

He heard her sniffle, “I didn’t know what else to do. I watched all the others you know, even…even what he did to them. It was my fault, you see; those girls lost their lives because they had a connection to me.” She shook her head, “If they hadn’t been called, they would still be alive today.”

Clark pulled away and used his hand to raise her chin so he could see her eyes, “You blame yourself for every one of them that dies no matter how it happens, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes a shuddering breath hissing through her lips, before she opened them, meeting his gaze head on. “How can I not?”

He sighed, hugging her close again and shook his head. He had no response to that; he didn’t think she should. He didn’t think it was healthy, but he didn’t want to get in an argument about it with her right now either.

They stayed like that for a little while before she whispered, “You’re shaking.”

Clark nodded. “I know, the video…I’m still upset.”

She pulled away, meeting his eyes again. “Do you want me to show you how to throw a punch properly? The heavy bags have been warded well, we can start there.” She looked down, “It will…it will help relieve some of what you’re feeling at least.”

“Yeah,” He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

****<S>**<S>****

To say Clark was a fast learner when it came to training would have been the understatement of the year. He was an absolute natural. He moved with precision and grace, sometimes striking so fast she almost didn't see him move.

As of now she was simply holding the bag for him as he got comfortable with the rhythm of landing punches and even with the wards on the bag, she could feel the impact of his strikes. At this rate she would need her suit within a few days to let him get the feel of fighting a moving target. At some point she might even bring him back to Cleveland to put him up against multiple fighters and see how he did.

"Remember to move your feet,” She reminded. "A moving target is harder to hit."

He nodded, bounced on the balls of his feet and struck, the impact of the punch making her bones rattle. "Whoa, nice one Clark." She laughed, "Felt that one in my toes."

He grinned, striking the bag again harder. "You were right," he said casually in between punches. "This does help."

She grinned, "Nothing like getting your aggression out with a bit of violence." And then she blushed, smirking, "Well almost nothing."

He chuckled as he threw a few more punches in quick succession, his own smirk forming on his lips. He had a mischievous look in his eyes and had just opened his mouth to comment when Buffy’s phone rang.

Buffy sighed, releasing the bag. "That will either be Wes or Willow."

It was now around three in the afternoon; Clark had told her he had to pick his mom up at six and it was an hour drive to Smallville from where they were. So, she was grateful that they were going to be able to get this taken care of before meeting his mom.

Buffy walked over to her phone and answered. "Hey Wes," she said in greeting. "What's the haps?"

He was silent for a moment and she could almost hear him roll his eyes at her butchering of the English language. "Willow," He began, "should be there shortly. Dawn would also like to see you. I told her I would call her once Willow was done securing the pendants."

Buffy frowned, “What? Why?”

“Dawn and I have come to the conclusion that one of the languages in the prophecy that I have been unable to identify, is most likely written in the script of Clark’s home world.” He paused, “We are going to need access to the ship, unless of course Clark can read it.”

Buffy looked at Clark and raised an eyebrow, but he quickly shook his head. “Only a few words,” He confirmed. “I think the computer on the ship might be able to translate it though.”

“That’s a negative, Wes,” Buffy answered, beginning to pace. “But he agrees that the computer on the ship should be able to do the job.”

“Very well, I’ll inform Dawn to dress accordingly. The ship is still in the same location I presume?” He asked.

“Whoa,” Buffy said halting her steps, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want us to go tonight? Clark has to pick up his mom from work, Wes.”

“I think it would be for the best. The sooner we get this prophecy translated, the better.” He paused. “Lorne told me I needed to send out more Slayers to India, Kansas, and Metropolis within the next two weeks and I would very much like to know if I should be sending two or a few hundred. If this prophecy gives any indication of what’s to come, I would very much like to know what it is.”

Buffy and Clark exchanged worried looks. “He only told me something was coming for Clark, and we’re gonna need all hands-on deck when it does.”

Buffy watched Clark swallow nervously. “He told me my time for hiding was almost up, but he said it was in the coming month.” His eyes widened in realization. “We need to translate that prophecy.”

Buffy nodded in agreement, “And I need to train you harder than just beating on a bag, which means it’s gonna be eight-hour days from here on out.” Clark opened his mouth to argue and she held up her hand, “We’ll get as much as we need to do in the mornings done, but if for whatever reason we can’t, I would loan you the money before I would let you lose your home.”

Clark frowned, “Buffy–”

“Take it from someone who knows what those kinda money troubles feel like,” She interrupted again. “I think in the scheme of things saving the world is a little more important than pride, don’t you?”

His frown deepened. “You think it’s going to be that big?”

“Lorne said all hands-on deck and it’s you. Someone coming after you has got to be as powerful, if not more.” She watched his face fall and reached out her hand out running it down his arm, “You’ll be ready, and now that we have a general idea of where this stuff might take place, we’ll all be even more prepared.”

“Wes,” she said, addressing the Watcher once more. “Were gonna need Willow to keep close, and I would call Illyria back from Cairo.”

“I agree,” Wesley said, just as a portal opened up and Willow walked through. Her smile melting away at the look on both Buffy and Clark’s faces.

“Uh-oh,” Willow said nervously. “I know that face.”

“Is that Willow?” Wesley asked over the line.

“Yeah,” Buffy said.

“Let me speak with her, please.”

Buffy held out the phone to Willow, who frowned but took it anyway. “Hey Wes,” Willow said in greeting as Buffy walked over to where Clark was standing looking more than a little worried.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

He attempted to smile but he couldn’t pull it off. “Hey, yourself.”

She bit her lip watching him, seeing the turmoil play across his face of having an unknown enemy out there that could be responsible for hurting others when they decided to rear their ugly heads. She didn’t blame him, if she needed to pull out her big guns as Lorne hinted then it could definitely get bad. She was optimistic however, because of what she’d had to face in her past. Clark didn’t have that same luxury.

“I-I know you’re not exactly used to going up against big bads, or having to fight gods,” she started. “But I promise you Clark, no matter what it is we’ll deal with it together. Tonight, I’ll have my sister meet us at your place and we’ll go to the ship and find out what this prophecy says. Whatever’s coming, we’ll deal. I promise you; we won’t lose.”

“How do you know?” He asked, a bit of hope showing in his eyes.

She stared at him seriously, “Because I don’t lose when it’s the world.”

His lips quirked slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something when Willow walked up to them. “Wes wants me to fit you for a suit,” She said to Clark, handing Buffy her phone before saying, “And, he wants to talk to you.”

As Buffy reached for the phone Clark said, “I already have a suit and it’s Kryptonian.”

Both Buffy and Willow blinked in surprise at his words, their voices ringing out in unison. “You do?”

He nodded, “Yeah, it’s on the ship still, but I have one.”

Willow smiled, “Well then, that’s gonna make this quicker. Can you bring it to me? I can enhance it with magic, add some safety features and protect you against the mystical.”

“Will that still work, even if the material isn’t of Earth?” He asked.

“Yeah Wes,” Buffy finally said into her phone, pulling herself away from the conversation. So, Clark already had a suit, she wondered what it looked like.

“So, for the time being I’m going to send fifty Slayers to each location, but keep the others on standby incase things go pear-shaped.” He said, already planning ahead. “I’ll also be moving quite a few closer to all three locations, that way all the girls have backup nearby. I think Willow should stay there at the safehouse that way she’s not far from either of you.”

“And Dawn, Xander, and the kids? They live in Metropolis after all.” Buffy asked.

“Perhaps you should explain the situation to her when she gets there. Staying there at the safe house with Willow might also be a wise move for them.” Wes said, adding, “As well as a few Slayers. I know Faith’s been itching to get out of Cleveland for a mission, maybe she and a few of the other girls should accompany her.”

“Just as long as it’s not Tanya, that girl’s a liability and she doesn’t listen to anyone.” Buffy said.

“I concur,” Wesley agreed. “Only the girls who are focused and dedicated will be allowed to participate in this mission. I would like as little casualties as possible.”

“I agree,” Buffy nodded, “What about the mystics, how many of those can we tap?”

“I have sixty-eight on file, I’ll start making phone calls now.” He sighed. “I’m just glad we have this much to go on.”

“Me too,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll call Dawn when Willow gets done here and tell her where to meet us and to put on her suit and a warm hat.”

“Very well,” he said. “Call me when you know more and I’ll begin the preparations.”

Buffy hung up, walking back over to Willow and Clark as they spoke to each other a bit awkwardly. “So, let’s get this over with Wills.”

Willow quickly nodded opening a small bag she brought with her. “So,” she said quickly. “These were a bit difficult to make since from what we’ve read the compulsion itself seems to be based purely on hormones as well as a need to unite your souls.” She looked at them both, “It took me a little while to find what I needed and even longer to put the spell together.” She sighed, “The pendants themselves will be made out of several crystals used to block compulsion, amethyst, ametrine, chrysocolla, and ruby.”

Willow pulled out two small corked vials filled with multicolored stones and handed them to both Buffy and Clark. “Now, hold out your hands and link your free ones together.”

Buffy and Clark did as she asked, holding their hands out palm up. Willow placed a vial in each of their hands and then covered them with her own hands, closing her eyes and beginning to chant. Buffy immediately began to feel her hand heat up and for a second it almost became unbearable and Buffy even watched Clark wince from the heat. It was gone just as quickly however and in its place were two hard looking marble like multicolored stones with a dark metallic chain that would hang from each of their necks. Buffy heard Willow mutter one more spell that she recognized to be a ward against breaking.

“Well go on.” Willow said smiling happily at her work. “Try them on, see if it worked.”

Buffy quickly slipped the necklace over her head and a sigh of relief left her lips. The sexual tension that had never fully abated her all day finally easing enough to where she wasn’t thinking about sex every few seconds.

Clark had a similar reaction, his face seeming to ease slightly, but Buffy was surprised when he turned to Willow and asked, “You said the compulsion is only based on hormones, does that mean any feeling we have that aren’t sexual are real?”

Willow nodded, “Of course, real love is something that can only be based off of free will. Its why love spells don’t ever work. You can’t force someone to love you.”

Buffy watched amused as Clark seemed to sigh in relief, and then quickly blushed when he noticed her watching him. “Come on stud,” she said hooking her arm through his and dragging him towards the door of the training room. “Let me go grab my stuff before we go get your mom,” a grin creeping over her face as she turned and wished Willow a good night and a promise to catch up tomorrow. “And for the record”, she added quietly as they walked out of the training room. “I still want to jump you, that hasn’t changed even with the necklace on.”

He quickly reached out to grab her arm, but she easily dodged him and took off down the hallway, a blush and a giggle leaving her lips.

Clark was suddenly there in front of her, a crooked and devilish smile on his lips. “Is that so?” And then his lips were on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she squealed in surprise.

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dirtydancingdean · 4 years ago

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something about how dean so completely parallels buffy summers from btvs like they are two iterations of the same character. i mean, buffy the vampire slayer is an undeniably a big influence on supernatural, even if the show itself wouldn’t exactly advertise that fact. you have sam’s sacrifice in swan song paralleling buffy’s sacrifice in the gift, the borrowing of a lot of demons and (god help me) lore, the weird amount of buffy actors in the show (sometimes playing vampires, which is hysterical), the campiness and horror. hell, even cas’s moment of pure happiness seems like a nod to angel’s moment of pure happiness. (dean and cas did it better though). but the biggest similarity is the way dean parallels buffy. he’s obviously not meant to. he’s supposed to be a gun-slinging, wise-cracking ladies man, but that’s not what he becomes. honestly that’s not even what he comes across as in the beginning. buffy and dean are both meant to be heroes, but buffy is the main character of her show, while that’s supposed to be sam in dean’s. and buffy and sam do share their similarities, particularly in their desire for normality which backfires on them because of their equally weighed desire to help people. but dean is so much more like buffy in so many ways?? like buffy, dean always feels everything is his responsibility (like he says in 7.05, “There’s always something eating at me. That’s who I am. something happens, I feel responsible, all right?”). this is largely in part thanks to j*hn winchester, while buffy’s sense of responsibility comes from the fact that a whole group of old white men have told her she’s the one girl in all the world who can fight evil. both of them kind of know on some level that this is kind of fucked up and even try attempting to fight back against their imposed duties occasionally. dean says it in 2.20: “Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right? But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?” which is buffy to a t! that's what buffy is all about! the loneliness and unfairness of having this burden on your shoulders! buffy says this in prophecy girl: “I don't care! I don't care. Giles, I'm sixteen years old. I don't wanna die.” but they both always, always go back to do their job. they both always sacrifice their own happiness for others. none of the writers would have intended to have dean make a speech that is entirely parallel to buffy summers’s prophecy girl speech, right down to both sarah michelle gellar and jackles’s tears. because ha ha, buffy is a girl hero, while dean is the embodiment of every male fantasy about what an action hero is.

the thing is, though, when you make dean every male fantasy in the world - attractive, good with women, tough, strong, likes rock music, hates chick flick moments, knows how to shoot a gun, looks good doing it, etc - you make him every male fantasy about women too. which is how we get those slow, full-body shots of dean that you normally only get with women, how we get dean being a caretaker, dean being a pacifier between sam and john, dean watching dirty dancing and liking taylor swift, dean always being the bait, dean’s interactions with villains being framed sexually, dean getting called pretty twice a season. we joke about dean being a hot action girl but he is often objectified in the particular way only women in media are. the way buffy is - in the show i think they actually did a pretty good job of not objectifying buffy. but there are times where they do, and it’s uncomfortable, and it’s subtle, the way it is on spn. and buffy and dean are both used to this kind of treatment; they often weaponize their sexuality, using it when they feel threatened. in the first episode of s2, buffy’s just suffered the enormous trauma of being resurrected after having been bitten by a vampire whose violence has sexual undertones. when she comes back to her friends, they talk about how closed off and mean she’s being, culminating in the scene where she goes to the bronze. if you haven't seen that scene then i dont know how to explain the way she absolutely uses her sexuality against xander and angel, just like dean uses his as a front to protect himself against everyone. when buffy’s traumatized she pushes herself away from those closest to her, represses her emotions, and uses fighting demons as a distraction. sound familiar? buffy and dean both make witty pop culture references that monsters don’t understand and self-deprecating jokes about themselves to deal with when they feel threatened and their low opinions of themselves. buffy has a lot of lines that sound just like dean’s! @lazarusr1sing mentioned buffy saying, “I may be dead, but I’m still pretty, which is more than I can say for you,” as a line that dean literally could have said and it’s true! they’re both a fan of quirky banter during fights but they’re both so messed up when it comes to their opinions of themselves. buffy in 7x07: “I have all this power. I didn't ask for it. I don't deserve it. It's like... I wanted to be punished. I wanted to hurt like I thought I deserved. [...] I feel like I'm worse than anyone. Honestly, I'm beneath them. My friends, my boyfriends. I feel like I'm not worthy of their love. 'Cause even though they love me, it doesn't mean anything cause their opinions don't matter. They don't know. They haven't been through what I've been through. [...] Sometimes I feel...this is awful. I feel like I'm better than them. Superior.” yeah, that’s...dean.

and they absolutely dive into self guilt and hatred if something goes wrong, even if it’s not necessarily their fault. faith in 3x15 says to buffy, “In the balance, nobody's gonna cry over some random bystander who got caught in the crossfire,” and buffy says, “I am.” the amount of trauma buffy and dean both go through kind of desensitizes them to this idea - dean especially, i think, though that’s mainly the fault of the sheer amount of writers and episodes supernatural has - but if they get someone killed, they will do absolutely anything to make up for it.

the idea of sympathetic monsters in buffy and supernatural is met with scorn a lot of the time by buffy and dean. for buffy this is a matter of mental self-preservation. her job is to kill demons, and if she lets herself think all demons can be good, then that means she might have been killing sentient beings that could have done good or weren’t doing harm, since she was a teenager. she can’t let herself think that way so she closes herself off to the possibility of demons being good a lot of the time. we talk about how supernatural majorly drops the ball when it comes to empathizing with the monsters (where’s that post, you know, the, “saving people, hunting things, white men with guns decide which is which,” post), but when it comes to dean, part of that is because, like buffy, he doesn’t want to face the idea that he’s been killing things that aren’t evil since he was a child. he’ll make exceptions (cas, crowley, benny, rowena), like buffy makes exceptions (angel, spike, clem, oz, anya), but it’s easier if it’s all black and white. they’re both strangely attracted to monsters too, though, because part of them feels like they are monsters themselves. like @s4castiel said they have romantic or romantically implied relationships with things they’re meant to fight - dean with benny, cas, and crowley + buffy with angel, spike, and faith. and monsters change themselves for buffy and dean’s sakes – cas, benny, crowley, angel, spike, all become better for the sake of buffy and dean! like that leviathan in 7.06 who says dean doesn’t have relationships he has applications for sainthood!

they hate the idea of being seen as just a killer (dean in 3.10, “Daddy knew what you were. Good soldier and nothing else,” and buffy in 5.22, “Guess that means a Slayer really is just a killer after all.”) dean says, “[A killer] is not who I am,” to chuck in 15.19, just like buffy says, “A slayer is not a killer,” through the later seasons. spike’s speech in 5.07 i think, really says it: “Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later, it's gonna catch you. And part of you wants it, not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it. Death is your art. You make it with your hands day after day, that final gasp, that look of peace.” their worst fear is that all they can do is hurt other people. they’ve been brought up to think violence is all they can do. but they both are first and foremost protectors, especially when it comes to sam and dawn, whose roles in both shows respectively is to be a reminder of dean and buffy’s humanity.

dawn, who first shows up in season 5 as buffy’s younger sister, is, represents buffy’s most beloved parts of herself, buffy’s humanity. sam is a lot like her in the respect that their destiny was to end the world; they’re both book-smart too, while buffy and dean act a lot like dumb blondes despite being incredibly intelligent in ways that aren’t clear to everyone. (not to go on a tangent but they’re both really good battle tacticians who make a lot of references to literature and tv shows and can perceive people and monsters’ weaknesses, etc.) dawn is dangerous to the world like sam is dangerous to the world in s2-s5, but buffy will not kill her like dean will not kill sam. you know how in the end 2009 dean realizes just how much 2014 dean has changed when he talks about killing sam as lucifer? sam is dean’s humanity like dawn is buffy’s humanity. they both put their siblings over everything else in the world. they sacrifice things that sam and dawn can’t begin to understand because dean and buffy shield them from it - dean in 2.22: “I had to take care of you. It’s my job,” and buffy in 6.14: “Dawn, the most important job that I have is looking out for you.” in s5 of buffy, if dawn lives, the world ends, and buffy doesn’t care because she can’t kill dawn. in 5.22 she says, “I don't understand. I don't know how to live in this world if these are the choices. If everything just gets stripped away. I don't see the point. I just wish that...I just wish my mom was here. [..] If Dawn dies, I’m done with it. I’m quitting,” paralleling dean quitting hunting after sam dies. they’re both insanely protective over dawn and sam - dean in 2.09: “You make a move on [Sam], you'll be dead before you hit the ground,” and buffy in 5.22: “I’ll kill anyone who comes near Dawn.” when sam dies in 2.22, dean doesn’t hesitate to offer up his soul in exchange for sam’s life; when dawn is about to die to save the world in 5.22, buffy doesn’t hesitate to die to save the world in dawn’s place. this all on top of the fact that sam and dawn are the babies, the ones dean and buffy have to take care of, which means that...no one is taking care of dean and buffy. like, dean in 3.10: “Sam, [John] doted on. Sam he loved,” and buffy’s mom in 5.05 hugging dawn and calling her “little punkin belly” and in response to buffy’s question of, “Did you ever have any names for me?” says, “No, I think you were always just Buffy.” when buffy’s mom gets sick in s5, buffy has to shoulder an incredible amount of responsibility - giving her mom her medicine, taking care of her, taking care of dawn, fighting a hellgod - and can’t break down in front of anyone because she has to be strong for dawn and her mom, the way dean has to be strong for sam and john (john in 2.01: “You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once.) they’re both so scared of opening up and being a burden - buffy’s nightmare hallucination of her deadbeat dad in 1.10 says the same kind of stuff about her being a burden and unwanted that zachariah’s projection of mary says in 5.16. it really is about the eldest sister complex in the end!!!

but they didn’t ever really mean to have dean be like buffy! buffy was literally meant to subvert traditional male action heroes. buffy summers is the male action hero, but she gets to have feelings and traditionally feminine traits too. she likes cheese and wearing pink and dressing up and having pretty hair, but she thinks about battle tactics and kills a vampire like every episode. dean? dean is meant to be the male action hero without the part about having feelings and traditionally feminine traits...except that backfires spectacularly. i mean, they give dean traits such as liking nightgowns to be like haha, wink-wink, nudge-nudge, isn’t that HILARIOUS. except it doesn’t come off that way, we know it doesn’t come off that way. so dean’s watched dead poets society and rent and he sings along to air supply and is good with kids and nerds out over cowboys, but he drives a classic muscle car and kills death and carries a gun with him everywhere he goes. dean and buffy both become multifaceted, complicated, human heroes – but it was intentional for buffy. it was unintentional for dean, so the narrative actively punishes him for it. i mean ymmv on how you feel about the ending of buffy, but she does get a satisfying happy ending. dean, on the other hand, is silenced and killed off and gets the worst possible ending for his character, all because they couldn’t control him.

#this is not coherent at ALL im so sorry #but #*blows a kiss* for all my dean girls in love with buffy!#supernatural #buffy the vampire slayer #mine #buffynatural

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yukiwrites · 4 years ago

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Corrin, Inconsolable

Thank you for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! I-I'm not crying, you are...

Summary: Prince Corrin had heard about Flora's situation from Felicia before he met with his counterpart, Princess Corrin. Meeting the maid that had died in his own world alive and well in Askr had been a shock, but nothing would be able to compare to the moment when he met Elise and Xander again...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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After Corrin met with his female self in Askr, his comings and goings in that world felt both natural and forced at the same time. It was always a breath of fresh air; to be able to hold her hand and confide in her the feelings she also had deep in her heart, as both of their regrets were the same.

They never spoke of any specifics -- it would hurt too much to mention the names of those they had lost, but each of them instinctively knew everything that had happened in the other’s world. That was why they never talked about their loved ones. The ones they lost.

It would be too painful to realize that the ones Corrin had saved in his own world were the ones who died in his sister’s world. It would only deepen his regret -- to know that if he had taken another path, his current family would all be dead.

And it would be by his own hand.

He didn’t speak of his own losses to Corrin, either, especially after hearing through the grapevine to whom she had married.

He felt like his stomach churned as he thought about all of the possibilities -- about all of the things that he could have done to save everyone. Now, after reuniting with her, Corrin felt that he could have guided his younger self into a path of understanding.

But what good was knowing that, now, after everything was over?

What good was having this newfound strength of meeting the one with the same pain as him if that wouldn’t bring back the ones he lost?

Lost in thought, Corrin didn’t notice someone approach him. He absent-mindedly sat at a corner of the central training ground after having finished his rounds for the day, only noticing the person approaching when they blocked the sun.

“Oh. My. Goodness. He truly is utterly adorable.” A voice Corrin knew too well spoke in a tone so full of love that he felt like he had been thrown back in time. Blinking, the prince looked up to the friendly princess in front of him.

“Big- sister…?” Corrin croaked out, his heart beating in a different rhythm than usual, making him gasp for breath.

It had been so long since Camilla had looked at him with such a warm gaze.

Back home, she had given Leo the throne, leaving the royal affairs entirely to him. She never abandoned her little brother, but she gave up her title and simply lived as a free woman.

Corrin was the one who had taken everything from her. He had led the war to knock on her door and rob her of everything-

“I always knew my little Corrin was the best, but having a little boy Corrin isn’t half bad, either!” Camilla spoke with a bubbly voice, unceremoniously hugging the prince within her chest. “His hair feels exactly the same, too! Come, Leo, come touch!”

Unable to react, Corrin’s eyes shook inside the embrace he had dearly missed. He choked on his own lack of air as he heard a sigh that he was well acquainted with.

“Hahh, Big Sister, Corrin isn’t a pet.” Leo approached from behind Camilla, patting her arm so she would let go -- which she didn’t, by the way. “Look, you’ve shocked him.”

Camilla pouted, squeezing Corrin in her arms just one more time before letting go. “How is it that you don’t understand how adorably lovely it is to have a boy Corrin at the same time we have our little girl Corrin at home?”

Leo coughed. “It’s not that I don’t understand the novelty of having two Corrins in our family, but we should exert caution in dealing with him, big sister. He’s our brother, but at the same time, not.”

The coldness of Leo’s ending words made Corrin’s heart go back to normal. That was the usual tone he had been dealing with after the end of the war.

Letting out a shaky breath, Corrin looked up at the duo from his seat. “Um, so you’re from her world, yes?”

The princess held back a squeal as she pinched Corrin’s cheek. “Even his voice is adorable.”

Meanwhile, Leo shook his head with a groan. “Indeed. In our world, our Corrin is a woman. She talked about you briefly, so we decided to meet you ourselves.”

“And I regret not doing this sooner!” Camilla added with a sweet voice, making Corrin’s heart falter. He didn’t even know what kind of expression he was making at that moment. Was he shocked? Was he happy? Was- was he going to cry?

Perhaps noticing the hurricane of emotions in his face, Camilla shifted her hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him into a warm, kind embrace.

“Elise has been dying to meet you, you know.” She said in a low voice, feeling his entire body go stiff. “Do you want to meet her?”

Leo had planned to demand answers from this strange yet familiar Corrin before this meeting. He wanted to ask him what drove him to choose THEM instead of their own family, but seeing how much the dragon prince reacted to simply meeting them; he couldn’t. Although they were of a different gender, this Corrin and the one from Leo’s world were still one and the same.

He sometimes saw how princess Corrin sometimes put up an act to better lead them. He knew she suffered with the choice she had made.

This Corrin was no different. He was struggling to come to terms with his choice.

“... She’s been pestering Xander to teach her how to use a sword, lately.” Leo said in the end, following Camilla’s lead as Corrin remained stiff in shock. “Something about meeting Ike’s sister.”

Corrin opened and closed his mouth in Camilla’s embrace, slowly pulling away to look them in the eyes, his own face so pale one would think he would pass out on the spot. “Elise… and Xander…”

Smiling, Camilla patted her little brother’s head. “Indeed. Shall we go? They’re not far from here.” She slid her hand to Corrin’s shoulder and arm, taking his hand into hers.

He was cold. So cold.

She felt him shivering and gulping.

“Y-yes,” Corrin nodded weakly, his throat so dry he couldn’t even gulp. “Let’s go.”

Leo scowled as he looked at the scene, his heart being pricked by guilt. He wanted to suspect this Corrin so much, but when he reacted like that...

They walked in silence as Camilla led the way, with Corrin’s hand in hers. Leo walked one step behind them as though to watch them, but in the end decided to walk alongside Corrin, if only to give him the comfort he needed at that moment.

Corrin looked down the whole way, somehow unable to lift his eyes and meet the warm gaze of the family he had left in the past. He licked his lips to wet his dry mouth, but it was never enough -- he was so nervous he felt his entire body dry up.

He felt his steps echo in the wide hall as they made their way through the corridor towards the western training ground -- and Corrin heard it before he saw it.

He heard a voice he had missed for so long he immediately looked up.

The first thing he saw was Elise’s small back.

She was so tiny. So pitifully small. Yet, her conviction was as tall as a mountain as she threw herself in front of her brother’s blade to protect her ideals. She, perhaps, was stronger than anyone Corrin had ever known -- and he wasn’t even able to protect her.

A small, pure and wonderful creature as her. He couldn’t protect her.

He saw her small back hunch over and hold the wooden sword sloppily, aiming it at the mountain in front of her.

Xander.

Corrin’s blood ran cold.

“If you swing your sword without conviction, there is no way you will hit your target!” His voice felt like thunder in corrin’s ears, so loud it was as though they were cramped in a small room instead of a wide ground.

He saw Xander lift his sword as though in slow motion. He saw it, frame-by-frame, as the sword went up, as darkness surrounded their very beings in an image he had known far too well.

In a image he still saw in his nightmares no matter how many times he tried to forget it.

He saw Xander lifting Siegfried, ready to strike Corrin down, when Elise-

“NO!” Corrin huffed, fighting against the resistance of time and space, running towards that small back he had failed to protect. “ELISE! No, please!” He cried out, hugging the little girl in his arms as he jumped out of Xander’s way. He rolled on the sandy ground with Elise safe in his arms as his body shook. “I won’t let you die again… I’ll protect you this time, I’ll!” he sniffled, not realizing how hard he had been crying.

“Eh? Eh?!” Confused, Elise looked like a rabbit caught in a trap as her big, round eyes looked around in shock. “Big Siste… Wait, Big Brother Corrin?!”

Her words dug deep into Corrin’s heart in a way that nothing Camilla and Leo did could compare. A sweet, jovial voice that called him with boundless love.

The little girl that died right in front of his eyes.

Corrin sobbed. “Elise! Oh, Elise…”

“Corrin?” Xander stuck his wooden sword on the hard ground, walking with heavy steps towards the long lost siblings. “What is the meaning of this-”

“...!” The prince widened his eyes, feeling his heart being crushed with but the sound of Xander’s voice calling his name.

Askr was such a cruel place.

It was dangerous; to be able to meet the source of his regret like that without any kind of warning.

“Ah…!” Corrin let go of Elise as though he had burned himself, quickly scurrying away as though a wounded animal. “F-forgive me,” he hiccuped as a stream of tears rolled down his cheeks. “Forgive me!” He turned on his heel and ran.

He ran, the weight of the voices he so longed for called that his name making his feet wobble. Still, he ran as fast as he could -- and he was always one to outrun his siblings.

“Corrin…” He huffed, tears and sweat staining his face. “Corrin!” he called for the only one who could understand his pain; the only one whom he knew would be with him through this nightmare.

Askr was a cruel place.

How foolish it was to think that it might’ve brought him an ounce of peace; when he was just an arm’s length away from meeting the ones that died by his hand. Meeting them and receiving their warm gazes as though nothing had happened -- as though they were still his family, as though they were still…!

“Corrin!” he wailed, running without destination, his body begging for comfort.

He knew in his head that he should know where to look for her, but his mind was so chaotic he was even blaming himself for not being able to think straight. Why couldn’t he simply think? Why was he running around yelling his own name as though he could summon his sister? Why couldn’t he look at this situation more naturally like Felicia had done?

Why why why why why?

Why didn’t he choose to stay with them? Why didn’t he think of a way to coexist? Why didn’t he-

Why didn’t he die before killing the ones who had raised him so lovingly?

It hurt so much. It hurt so, so much. It hurt to live. It hurt to bear this regret that dragged his every step. How could he ever face the ones he had turned his back on with a smile, like they had done to him? He could never! He… he could never.

Even though he had finally found comfort in this strange world, the agony of knowing the consequences of the choices he didn’t make was unbearable. He couldn’t do this on his own.

It was such a burden. Such, such a great burden.

“Corrin…!” He sniffled, his eyes widening once he laid them upon the silver hair much akin to his own.

The princess turned her head at the call of her name, widening her eyes right away once she saw the state her counterpart was in. “Corrin!” She gasped, running to him with open arms and fresh tears in her eyes, as though she felt his exact same pain.

The prince all but tackled the princess, digging his face into her shoulder as his dry throat racked itself to let out soundless cries.

Askr was a cruel place. But it was at least the only place where he could meet his other self like this and share their burdens.

His tears now had a place to fall.

#fire emblem fates #feh #fire emblem heroes #corrin fire emblem #kamui fire emblem #elise fire emblem #my writings #yuki's commissions

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vigilantetendencies · 3 years ago

Text

Snippet/random writing

My best boy Uriah and his unfortunate partner Xander and a little summary/snippet thing I did for them.

Heavily based in the world of Danny Phantom.

He shook with anger, eyes hard as his fists clenched at his sides. He had done nothing wrong! He never had. He had only ever existed and somehow that was enough for everyone around to pin him as the villain.

"You want a bad guy?" He asked, voice cracking as his eyes glowed. "I'll give you a bad guy!" He felt his body pulse with his emotions, years of beatings and descrimination against his genetic coding having built up into a horrifying display of power. He never wanted to be the monster- he had never asked for the honor of being feared and avoided. But if these spirits wanted a monster then they would have one; and he would do his damnedest not to disappoint.

He lunged forward, symbols glowing on his palms as he connected with one of the guards, throwing him away as his hands sucked the ectoplasm from his body. Uriah hardly paid attention, eyes hard as the ghosts that were moments ago cowering were now coming at him desperately.

It wasn’t long before there were bodies scattered across the room, Uriah panting in the middle of them while lowering the last attacker to the ground. He tried to wipe ectoplasm from his cheek and only succeeded in smearing it, standing tall and frowning down at the body at his feet.

“This didn’t have to happen,” He told it, knowing none of them could hear him.

He suddenly saw movement out of the corner of his eye, remembering where he was. He spun around, finding a man leaning up against the doorway to the room. He had an unreadable expression, and Uriah tensed in anticipation of another battle.

“My entire army,” the man rumbled, golden eyes roaming over Uriah’s body. “You took down my entire army in a matter of minutes.” There was no clear indication of what the man was feeling. It didn’t sound like anger or disappointment. Rather, it might have been intrigue. The man pushed away from the wall and started toward Uriah, the smaller male getting ready for anything. "I'm not looking for a fight, so you can relax. Or…” He grinned. “Did you want my help with that?” It came out as a purr and Uriah’s mind stalled for a moment, shoulders slumping as he heard the rumble of the man’s voice.

Was he- Was he hitting on Uriah after he’d just mopped the floor with his army?

The man walked around him, very obviously looking him over and sizing him up.

“And what important business brings a hunter into my castle? I doubt you came here to let me make you my play thing.”

“-Play thing-? What, no-” Uri felt his face warm up, trying to step away from the other man. He succeeded in putting distance between them, again tensing up. “I’m here to stop you from threatening the people of Aesop’s pyramids.” He puffed out his chest, eyes hard.

“Aesop couldn’t be bothered to come here himself? Shame.” He paused. “Even if you’re scrawny at least you’re easy on the eyes. More so than that winged brute.” The man suddenly looked disinterested, looking at the back of his hand before starting to walk away. “If that’s all then you can tell him his message was received but I still expect payment.”

“I’m not your messenger,” Uriah stated with finality. “I’m here for Aesop and Aesop alone. Unlike you, Aesop has better things to do than to send threats and hire prejudiced men to work for him.” He stuck his nose in the air, eyes glowing harshly.

“Is that it? You throw little tantrums when people don’t like you?” No, he wasn’t going to play into this man’s stupidity- “You think it’s fair because you were ridiculed and made to be the bad guy but what you’ve done here hardly looks like the work of an upstanding citizen.”

“Everyone is always going to condemn everything I do.” Uriah became less tense, looking away. “I won’t take judgement from any of you. Let alone a bully.” Uriah met his eyes once more before spinning to the door, beginning to walk out. He could feel Xander’s mood drop briefly before he called out to him.

“If you ever want a good time come back, little hunter.”

He frowned; what an appalling man.

“I’m surprised,” Aesop told Uriah, looking at the man sitting on the column next to his throne. He looked miserable, wearing one of the loincloths that everyone in the pyramids wore. He wasn’t often found shirtless out of human pride of some sort, but the heat had gotten the best of him. He was a sweating, dull mess so Aesop tried to make him feel at least a bit better. “Xander hasn’t so much as sent a threatening letter. Whatever you did must have worked.”

Uriah looked over, blinking.

“I only talked to him.”

“And wiped out his entire army, I hear. You’re not one to attack unless provoked, I was surprised.” He could see Uriah slump.

“I really didn’t like it.” He could hear someone approaching the room from down the hall but paid no attention. “When I use my powers I think it takes away energy from people. I always feel so jacked up after and I never know what to do with all the energy.”

“I could think of a few things,” a voice called over the room. Both Aesop and Uriah looked at the doorway at the front of the room, none other than Xander standing there.

“It’s awfully bold of you to come right into my castle,” Aesop frowned, upset that he had spoken too soon.

“You say it like anything is going to happen to me.”

Uriah looked at Aesop.

“Can I hit him!? I want to hit him-”

“Uriah, stand down.”

“I’m not here to fight,” Xander stood a few feet in front of them, smirking. “I’ve actually come here to inform you that I won’t be making a nuisance of myself anymore.”

“Really.” Aesop smiled a bit. “Me and my people appreciate it.”

“What’s it going to cost?” Uriah stood, crossing his arms.

“Mm, the get up is enough.” It took him a second, but Uriah realized the statement was directed at him. He gave a small squeak as he tried to somehow hide his exposed skin, hearing Aesop try and hide a laugh.

“Hey!”

“Apologies, little one. Why don’t you go and see how Anu is doing in the kitchen while we discuss these events?” Uriah happily took the escape, practically sprinting when he heard Xander whistle at his back side.

The brunette was not happy when it was later revealed that Xander was staying longer than just a conversation. He made a point to avoid him, trying to focus on helping out Aesop’s people.

It was like this for around a week, Uriah avoiding Xander and giving snarky retorts to his flirtatious remarks, but in the midst of the night Uriah came sprinting into the main hall, pulling his own clothes on again.

“Master Rakov-” Anu tried to stop him, setting down a pot on a table near the throne. "We talked about you dashing off like this!"

“No, Anu, I have to go-” He stumbled, buttoning his pants and pulling his shirt off of his shoulder to pull it on next, dropping his shoes and hoodie on accident. “Shit-”

“Uriah?” Aesop came into the hall, robe draped around his toned body. “Are you leaving us?”

“I-I had-” He groaned as he fell on his rear, pulling his shirt on as Xander entered the hall next. “I have to go- They need me-”

Aesop sighed, nodding.

“I understand.” That was it; Uriah pulled the rest of his clothes on and was suddenly gone.

Xander stared with confusion clear on his features, looking at Aesop for an answer. “Hunters are born with the ability to have foresight related to their abilities, like a premonition. Most hunters are moulded to become killers of all ghosts, but Uriah’s upbringing allows him to see when people need help rather than point him in the direction to kill.”

Xander nodded, watching the empty spot where Uriah had just been.

Peculiar.

The next meeting was a rather odd one.

Aesop had let Uriah come back around a few times, and in those times he saw Uriah mature more and more into an adult.

Xander was around some of these visits, but often times Uriah was so busy with Aesop’s people and other tasks that he couldn’t hardly give Xander a sarcastic comment. And- damn, did he want to do that so bad.

As Uriah got older he got more muscular, but not terribly so. He became more bold and much more interesting to listen to.

Finally it seemed like Uriah was not so busy that he couldn’t talk; It had been...What, two years? He was settled outside Aesop’s castle, floating in the water of the pool. He only had on a pair of shorts, his scarred up body sprawled out for Xander to oggle at shamelessly.

Had he always been so pockmarked? Not that Xander minded, he was a firm believer in scars being beautiful and showing one’s bravery. But he just...hadn’t recalled anything adorning his tanned skin when they’d last really talked all that time ago.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Uriah called from the pool, not even opening his eyes. Xander came closer, sitting on an intricately carved bench and grinning.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you do something other than run around like a maniac,” he commented. “And it looks like you’ve been busy, did you get mauled?” He watched as Uriah opened his eyes, glancing over. Shit- Touchy subject. “It’s hot, so don’t look so offended. You were pretty to look at before, but now I might find myself thinking of you at night when I-”

He was suddenly hit with a wave of water and this brought him to laughter.

“You’re not even qualified to kiss my big toe let alone jack off to me.” Uriah was standing in the pool now, arms crossed. “Don’t you have something better to do than to irritate me? Oh, there are some new guys in Aesop’s harem, maybe you should go fuck with them.”

Ooh, spicy- How exciting this man always was!

“Mm, I prefer my merchandise new, not secondhand.” Uriah made a face at the implication, cheeks reddening in confirmation. “Wait- I was right?” Truth be told, that was a little surprising. Humans and ghosts weren’t so different in that they enjoyed pleasure and affection, but he guessed Uriah’s life didn’t allow much freedom to explore and indulge.

Xander laughed, holding his stomach in glee.

“Sorry not all of us are sexual deviants who rely on one night stands to make us feel better about ourselves.”

“Oh, I can promise you, I’d like for you to be so much more than a one night stand.” That snapped Uriah back into embarrassment, though he didn’t leave. “You’re not running off, that’s a surprise. Have you decided that I might be worth a chance?”

Uriah’s demeanor changed, eyes lowered and shoulders slumped.

“I’ve spent two years fighting in the slums.” That explained the innuendos and language as of late. “After what I’ve seen I realized that there were plenty of worse things out there than you.” There was silence, Uriah’s gaze on the bottom of the pool. He hadn’t even heard Xander climb into the pool before he was splashed.

“Lighten up kid,” Uriah choked on water, blinking at Xander. “You wanna get your mind off of it? I know a good way to-”

Uriah splashed the water back at Xander, the older ghost laughing and diving at him.

“Why don’t you get lost-” Uriah hissed, just before he was tackled into the water.

He couldn’t help but smile a little.

Xander had to leave the pyramids shortly after their conversation.

Of course, they were both mildly a nuisance to one another, but it made Xander a happy man to talk to Uriah.

He prayed they’d see each other soon enough.

And, lo and behold, they did.

Suddenly Uriah was in his kingdom- His very own kingdom once more- and it didn’t look like he was on any sort of killing spree.

But Xander had also made a point to educate his men and women on Uriah’s endeavors as a hunter. So, no one was attacking him.

Uriah was in the center of town, poking his nose into the market and seeming to be on the lookout for something specific.

“If you’re looking for my bedroom it’s in the castle,” He commented, leaning over Uriah’s shoulder as he looked at journals on a stand. The smaller man jumped, spinning around and jamming a hand to Xander’s chest before seeing it was him.

“Ooh, save that for later, that might be kind of kinky-”

“I could have killed you!” Uriah shoved him away.

“I doubt it,” Xander shrugged. “What brings you to my corner of the ghost zone? Had enough of Aesop’s harems and sun?”

Uriah rubbed his sunburnt arm absently.

Right. Xander always forgot that Uriah was still among the living.

“Maybe a little,” He confessed. “But I really need a new journal. I heard the best book makers reside here, so.” He smiled a little.

“What do you need a journal for? Don’t your hands just…” Xander made a gesture with his hands as if to ask if the books wound up flames.

“I can control the fire, Xander, Uriah deadpanned. “And I write in them. That’s what they’re for.” He picked one up, running his hand over the cover with adoration.

“Will you be here a while? There are plenty of other places in the kingdom that don’t get enough attention, I can show you around.” Pause. “As long as you don’t light them on fire or try and kill everyone there--” Uriah spun to Xander and the two began to bicker again, smacking him with the journal before looking at the vendor.

“I’m buying this,” He clarified before hitting Xander again.

Uriah was surprised when Xander actually stayed by his side and showed him around the kingdom of Erimell. They bickered quite a bit, but eventually they fell into a less back and forth rhetoric and into a more calm and even friendly atmosphere, much like how they had left things at the Pyramids.

Xander couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the boy; Though, that isn’t what he was anymore. Uriah certainly had his boyish charm but he was growing into less of an amusing nuisance. Now Uriah looked like an adult; A little hardened to the world’s evils yet still maintaining his typical excitement and...purity. Something about Uriah was just different than most people and ghosts Xander dealt with. He wasn’t here for political gain or power in any sense, he was just...a guy, buying a journal, spending the day looking around a dead kingdom because he found it fascinating.

“What is it?” Uriah snapped him out of his thoughts, looking at him as he leaned over an intricately carved wooden railing that surrounded the gothic castle they were looking at. “Pretty sure I told you last time I saw you that pictures last way longer than staring like a creep.”

Xander smirked.

“I don’t think you’d supply me with the kind of pictures I’d like.” He watched Uriah’s face contort in embarrassment, red spreading across his cheeks.

“If you’re trying to flirt you’re doing a really bad job at it,” The brunette informed him.

“I’m doing just fine,” Xander retorted. “You’re just not into it. Now, what could a runt like you be into…” Xander licked his lips, catching Uriah’s gaze flicking to his tongue briefly.

“I have things to do,” Uriah huffed, pushing off of the railing. “If you’re that thirsty then I suggest you get a drink- And no, not from me.” Uriah glared at Xander, pulling his bag in front of himself to dig through it in search of his map of the ghost zone.

“Aw, cold.” Xander remained unaffected, looking at Uriah’s map. “You could just ask for directions, what are you looking for?”

“A place to stay.” Uriah looked a little...darker as he said that. “Some..stuff...happened back home and…” He was quiet and Xander almost didn’t catch it when he reached up to wipe at his eyes. “Anyways, there aren’t exactly a lot of hotels in the ghost zone.”

“It’s almost like there’s an entire castle at my disposal,” Xander sarcastically commented, watching Uriah give him a look.

“Oh, and I’m sure your men are going to welcome me in with open arms after last time.”

“No one remembers. You killed them all. Now come on.” Xander began walking, glancing back at a hesitant Uriah and sighing. “You have to make everything difficult.” He came back over and snatched up Uriah’s things, the brunette giving a surprised “Hey!” as he picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Look, kid, the ghost zone is a huge place full of bad people. Bad people who seek power and have nothing better to do than to pick fights. The rumor that there’s a hunter running around freely is spreading like wildfire and while I know you can handle yourself I’d hate to see you get upset if something happened. So shut up and take the free room.” Uriah did just that, hanging limply on Xander’s shoulder- Until one of Xander’s hands grabbed his ass.

“Put me down!”

“Definitely not happening.”

#hero #villain #hero x villain #superhero #oc #prompts #writing #supervillain #villain x hero #villains #origial character #danny phantom

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

How Btvs characters would spend Halloween with their s/o:

A/N: This is based on the assumption that the reader really enjoys Halloween 🖤🦇

Buffy summers:

Buffy really likes Halloween

Surprisingly

Often her one night off

But she loved it from being a kid

Having fond memories of trick or treating and then squabbling over candy with Dawn

Being allowed to stay up late to watch movies

When she told you her fond memories you were determined to create more fond memories for her on Halloween

Will absolutely love the idea of a couples costume

But won’t want you to tease her about it

Once you get the hints she’s dropping you would totally pick the cheesiest outfits to compliment each other

You spend all day making Halloween treats with Dawn and not allowing Buffy in the kitchen

And you share them with her before you go to a Scooby gathering/party

you dress up and Dawn hypes you both up (she loves you together)

the party is fun

you laugh along with your friends and even bob some apples

(Xander’s idea)

You rent a bunch of movies to watch for when you get in

you want to recreate something that feels like home for her

She cuddles up to you and kisses you softly thanking you silently

she really loves you and now she loves Halloween more

Xander Harris:

big Halloween fan

he really enjoys it

Won’t shut up about it as soon as October first hits

It’ll be infectious and he’ll love it if you’re as enthusiastic as him

Will have horror movies all lined up for the whole month

you’ll settle in, dim the lights and cuddle up

On the 31st he will have saved the best line up until last

Will want to spend as much time with you as possible

So movies will be his ideal

You’ll both for sure be dressing up even if you’re not going out in the evening

he’d do a couples costume but may actually prefer surprising each other with your respective costumes

Bonus points if you dress kinda sexy he won’t be able to keep his hands off you

Will have so many films lined up you’ll have to stay up basically all night to finish

He’ll have the classics and some more modern ones too to mix it up

He’ll know a whole bunch of facts about the filming too

You bring the snacks and just enjoy your night together

It’s perfect cos it’s the two of you

Willow Rosenberg:

Will be as enthusiastic as you

Will have planned out a costume way in advance

(one made not bought just in case and will insist to make yours too)

It’ll be all part of the

Lots of time for kissing and snuggles in between making the costumes

Plenty of time together through October

you make your costumes and finally they are perfected

the best part has been spending so much time with her though

Halloween night finally came and you spent the entire day eating candy and adding the finishing touches to the costume

you were both giddy with excitement

At the Halloween party you will be the coolest and most historically accurate

you enjoy yourselves, not caring what anyone else thinks of you or your costumes

you have each other, that’s the best part

you meet up with the Scoobies and have a great time

she’s so comfortable with you she can actually let loose

you leave really late, stumbling home together

Willow loves the way you bring her confidence out

you get home and curl up in bed together

you wished the day would never end, you had so much fun

Rupert Giles:

Enjoys the holiday

Didn’t celebrate so much in England

But has fully embraced Halloween since moving to Sunnydale

He’ll dress up, he used to wear the same costume every year but now switches it up a little

his favourite is the trusty wizard costume

He does prefer to stay at home but would go out if you asked

but you don’t, you’re content to just be with him

he has his nose in a book as you make Halloween treats

you entice him to join you

(promising it means he gets as many as he wants)

He came over and immediately helped with weighing everything

He’s actually a good cook so he could have taken over

but loves sharing the responsibility

you put some Halloween themed music on and dance around the kitchen

he adores seeing you so happy

makes him melt more than the caramel for the candy apples

you laugh together and just generally enjoy the time you share making sweet treats

he loves every moment

you decorate them and share them when they’re done

you ask him to tell you ghost stories

and he does. Although they’re all true and from his Ripper days

it makes it even more interesting (and he loves sharing his past with you)

Spike:

Loves it

everyone knows he (not so) secretly loves Halloween

will have stolen any and all candy left outside people’s homes

will split it with you if you ask nicely

may tease you and ask for his treat first

but will definitely share the candy cos he’s fond of you

may take some convincing to get him to leave the crypt after dark

but if you do, by some miracle, manage it

you will find him warming up to it

wont dress up himself but won’t mind that you do

might even teasingly offer to help get you into your costume

you go to some bar or the Bronze

had the impression that dressing up was some kind of insult

but figures eventually that you all must just think he (as a vampire) is very cool

makes him very full of himself

(more so than usual)

Won’t dress up at all but will mutter under his breath his thoughts and a primitive rating system on everyone else’s costume

this will make you laugh

a lot

he’ll enjoy making you laugh and continue until someone overhears and it gets him in trouble

You’ll end up being kicked out of the bar but neither of you will mind

Halloween is so much better when you were together

Angel:

Angel doesn’t like Halloween so much

But when he sees your love of the holiday he will change his tune

Instantly

he just likes to see you happy

it’s not selfless really, to see you happy gives him so much joy

so he sets off on his October-long mission

Will find every Halloween themed activity you can attend

Sunnydale unsurprisingly has a lot to offer

Haunted houses, pumpkin carving, the works

You name it he’s looked into it

by the time the week of Halloween arrives, you’ve done everything on offer

you tell him one evening that you want to go ghost hunting

he looks at you and frowns

it sounds dangerous

and he would rather you didn’t die (especially not on Halloween)

but you manage to convince him to go ghost hunting

on Halloween

You said it was your Halloween wish. only for you would he do this.

you go to a graveyard and look around with a torch

you were one step away from dressing as a ghost buster

but decided it would probably be disrespectful

You turned and there was a ghost! A real one

you slipped your hand into Angel’s as you communicated with the ghost

Angel planned this. He knew as soon as you saw one you would want to leave and do normal Halloween stuff again

would admit to it eventually, but the most important thing was your face when you met a real (and friendly) ghost

Anya Jenkins:

Anya loves it. She loves making money

She loves dressing up. And she loves you

A winning combination. She also loves learning about everything

Does try her best to get used to being human (and doesn’t get enough credit)

You and Anya will spend the entire day in the Halloween department of the store

Not kidding, you get there early and are there well into the afternoon

You can’t decide what to buy

there’s so much candy so little time

and the decorations! You squabble over what’s worth buying

eventually you manage to convince her you need everything you’ve chosen no matter the cost

she smiles at some of the items and shrugs

she’s new to Halloween, she finds it very cute though

not at all scary

when everything’s decorated and candy is left out, you can relax

(she will have definitely checked on the Magic box while you were in town to make sure it’s going okay)

she can stomach the worst, most gruesome horror movies without so much as batting an eyelid

She’s seen and done worse. will protect you if you struggle to watch

Tara Maclay:

Tara used to get a bit weird around the holiday

You found out later it was because she thought she was a demon

And just decided to sit Halloween out

You had always missed her and offered to stay in but she wanted you to go out and have a good time

Finally this year you knew everything about her past

And so did she

Surprise: she’s no demon

So you make sure she has the best Halloween ever

Cos she’s missed out on so much

you start with pumpkin carving

a staple

you plan out your designs and spend time perfecting them

they look super cute lit up later that night

she smiles a lot

its the first time in a while she’s just done fun things for Halloween

without something in the back of her head telling her she’s wrong

you decorate the dorm you share and play spooky music

You watch Halloween specials and family friendly movies through the entire afternoon

you dress up and hand out a whole bunch of candy

she really likes it, finding herself able to relax

the Scoobies come over and you have a little party

nothing too outrageous just you all hanging out

some of you are in costume, some not

but you have a really great time

and Tara has plenty of plans for celebrating next year

Oz:

Oz doesn’t hate halloween

He isn’t enthusiastic either

Kinda hard to pinpoint his feelings on the occasion

Either way? He’s a sucker for you

he’s usually booked at some gig for Halloween

But this year, he tells the guys he isn’t doing it

knows how much you love the spooky day

so he’s going to spend it solely with you

took him ages to figure out what to do

he will help you decorate

eventually says he needs to go out to the store

when he was out he found a lot of Halloween goodies for you

Decided to use the Halloween themed treats and decided to hide them around the (well decorated) home

its like a little treasure trail. You get clues and you get a treat and another clue until the end

he loves to buy gifts for a s/o and Halloween is no exception

you love Halloween and he loves you so he wanted to make it special

you will come to the end of the trail and gush about how much you love it

he’ll shrug but that smile’s there

he’s pleased

as the night draws in you cuddle up and every time the door goes you insist you both go

so you can see the cool outfits and hand out candy together

Drusilla:

wouldn’t celebrate Halloween unless you wanted to

Might not be aware of how big the holiday is

Would humour you if you wanted to celebrate though

Might find it cute the way you love it

Would want you happy so would make sure there were Halloween decorations everywhere in whichever lair you were in

Decorations would stay up all year round

It kinda blends with the rest of the place

If you’re really into Halloween would hold a ball/party in your honour on the 31st

She would be very proud of it

Would invite every demon she knew but most probably wouldn’t show

demons don’t party. Not on Halloween

Even if it was just both of you attending the party, she would dance with you slowly in the middle of the room

Even with no music

Will pepper your face in such loving kisses

May offer to sire you as she knows you love the date so much

But is happy to wait if you refuse

you are her favourite so Halloween is her favourite of it’s yours

you show her the cuter side of Halloween

Will hum to you softly

maybe a tune like the Addam’s family but will hum it very seriously

Faith:

Faith always thought Halloween was lame

until she met you

she likes to pretend she doesn’t care

and she’s too cool for all that stuff

but melts into a puddle when she sees your enthusiasm for the holiday

Will basically do anything you ask so long as she gets to see you happy

But what you really want is her and you tell her this

you make a plan to go for a ‘spooky walk’ before coming back to get cosy and watch Halloween tv

on your walk, you point out all of the spooky decorations and lights

she thinks its cute but won’t admit it

you end up dusting a few vamps that didn’t get the memo

but you convince her it was perfect, very Halloween-y so she doesn’t get so mad at them for interrupting your evening after that

She will stop and kiss you every few streets

loves stolen kisses, especially like this

you enjoy looking at the cool costumes but eventually walk back home

her favourite part of the night, however was when you turned the motel room you now shared into a cosy fort

blankets everywhere and candles

very romantic and to you it had the right amount of spooky too

You hide under the blankets and start to tell outrageous ghost stories into the night

she held you close and insisted it was now her favourite holiday

Cordelia chase:

Cordy loves Halloween

Especially the excuse to dress up however she wants

Would 100% want to dress you up

Wouldn’t ask, would tell you it’s happening

And you ofc would agree

(Or else)

She’s a sweetheart really and wants a lot of input on what you’re comfortable wearing

Will use her dads credit card to buy anything she thinks you’ll need

You will probably be wearing something worth more than your entire wardrobe for the night

She will dress you up, maybe do your spooky makeup if you’re into that

She would make sure to get you both invites to the coolest party going

I’m talking the coolest

anyone who’s anyone is going

Will walk you in as if you’re both on the red carpet

Will not let anyone compliment one of you without demanding they compliment the other

You will have the best time

Dancing and laughing the entire night

Riley:

Probably wouldn’t enjoy Halloween so much

He sees enough demons on a normal week day

Might want a night off but won’t be too into going out

But If he sees you all excited he’ll start to change his mind

Slowly

He’ll do some activities if you ask and smile as he watches your enthusiasm

When he sees you dressed up he may rethink

Wants you to have a good time so he asks what you wanna do

your choice all day

you wanna go and make dumb decorations? He’ll get the craft glue

you wanna eat your weight in candy? He’s down to share

will take you to a party if you ask

(and maybe even join in with any activities on offer if he’s in a good mood)

will enjoy himself, especially with you on his arm

but you will leave early

He will make an excuse to go home with you

weirdly his job hasn’t called him in tonight

maybe the demons have time off or something?

Weird

you go back to his place and are able to spend a whole uninterrupted night together

you have Halloween themed movies on in the background but mostly you’re spending it together in bed

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i-am-ironic · 4 years ago

Text

Daminette arranged mariage au part 6

I thought the last one was part 6 but nope its this one

******************

Marinette and Damian had had a great day at the park with Xander and Titus. Xander was so excited to see the "puppy" that he practically jumped from Marinette's arms.

They stayed at the park until it started getting dark after that damian went home to drop off titus and then they all went to McDonald's because it was Xander's favorite American food. When they were done eating marinette suggested damian come back to the apartment to watch "Onward" with them because that was Xander's favorite movie (it was shaping up to be a great day for this kid).

Halfway through the movie the toddler fell asleep so damian put him to bed and came back to sit with marinette. He had to admit this had been a wonderful day, but they had a lot to talk about.

Damian sighed, "we are never going to have a normal relationship, you know that right?"

"I went into this relationship knowing how it started" she replied turning to face him, "and I'm ok with it."

"Even though it wasn't your choice to marry me?"

"Dames the reason i came here to find you wasn't just to introduce you to Xander it was also because I love you." Those words ment more to him then she could even know. She still loved him even after all this time. He kissed her cheek smiling, she blushed as she continued "We didn't meet in the best circumstances but that wasn't your fault, and we were still able to have a relationship, and a son."

"Its just...you had to raise Xander on your own and I know you had Luka but I should have been there with you." He thought of all the things he missed, "I should have Held your hand at the hospital, helped you with the nursery, been there when he learned how to walk. I should have kept looking for you. But I didn't."

"You thought I was dead I understand how painful that can be. You were shipped back here with your father. You didn't have a choice how we met or when you left." She took a breath, "I know you would have been there if you could have."

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any doubts about our relationship," he tried to find the right way to farase it so it didn't sound too blunt, "because my father thinks you should meet my brothers." $#*! That was too blunt.

"Are you sure you want to tell them?" She said not seeming to mind his bluntness.

"If I don't tell them they will get suspicious and will probably figure it out on their own, mother made sure we couldn't get out of this easily so we are legally married. Its a wonder they don't already know, besides once they know then maybe you can come on patrol with us, I'm sure you missed it."

"Oh and we can spar again that will be so fun." She said clapping her hands together. "So when am I going to meet your brothers?"

"I was thinking you could come over for dinner tomorrow and if things go well then we can have Luka bring Xander over." He wasn't quite sure how Luka had so much free time but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. that was how that saying went, right?

"Are you sure you want to tell them you have a girlfriend/wife AND that you have a son I the same day?"

"My dad took it pretty well."

"Your dad doesn't show any emotions unless the media are around." She wasn't wrong.

"It'll be fine they might be surprised but at least it's not a bad surprise."

She snorted in amusement, "if you say so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian woke up to the screaming of a toddler. As he opened his eyes in the bright light coming from the window he noticed that he was still at marinette's apartment, and that marinette was still asleep on the couch by his side. She scrunched up her face at the yelling and started to sit up until damian whispered, "mari you have been talking care of him for years let me take this one, go back to sleep." She groaned and rolled over as he got off the couch and walked to the little boy's room.

"Hey Xander what's wrong?" He said in his most Soothing tone.

Xander reached over the bed rail trying to reach something "I...t...truck.....*sniffle* c...can't reach.....and food....and mommy...."

"Hey its okay buddy here i got your truck," he said handing the little boy a green truck with a Robin symbol on the side. "mommy is right out there why don't we go see her ok?"

Xander nodded wiping his eyes and reaching up toward Damian. Damian lifted up the boy and put him on his hip like he had done it a thousand times. When they reached the kitchen marinette was already up making breakfast.

"I told you I could handle him." He said shaking his head.

"I know but I wanted to make you breakfast and pancakes are Xander's favorite." She said turning to the toddler in his father's arms, "Isn't that right baby?"

Xander nodded happily asking "syrup too mommy?"

"Yes, we can have syrup too, now let your dad put you in you chair and the pancakes should be done soon."

Marinette could hear damian struggling, After a moment he said, "Marinette can you help me? I can't figure out how to strap him in the chair." She smiled and walked over to help.

She wanted every morning to be like this. Waking up next to damian, him helping with breakfast and trying to figure out Xander's toys.

When all the pancakes were done marinette went to Luke's room to tell him it was time for breakfast and Damian cut up Xander's pancakes. Damian and marinette explained their plan to luka who agreed to watch Xander while they were at dinner. When they were all done eating damian said goodbye and that he would pick marinette up at 6 for dinner.

When he returned home around 10 Jason was confused not only because he hadn't seen damian since breakfast yesterday but also because he smelled like vanilla perfume. Which meant damian had been out with a girl. And had spent the night with this girl.

"So demon spawn were gave you been?"

"None of your business todd." He said in a tone not quite as angry as it usually would be.

"Really? Because I think you just don't want me to knowing you spent the night with a girl."

Damian's face turned red but he didn't deny it, "you will meet her at dinner with the rest of the family." He said leaving to make the arrangements with Alfred and his father.

Jason was perplexed, who had damian been out with and more importantly why was he just hearing about this now? Maybe he could do some snooping before dinner.

**************

So i saw this post about how when you are writing you should write all the dialog first and then fill in the rest and you will get longer chapters and I think it works! If anyone wants to be tagged please ask me and ill put you on the list, and I still need help with how far apart all the boys are i think someone told me but I was dumb and didn't write it down, oops. anyway I hope you like this chapter! If you have any questions feel free to ask me and happy 4th of July to any Americans, happy traders day to the British and happy Saturday to everyone else.

@thestressmademedoit

@abrx2002 I love that you suggested Onward for the movie because its about a boy trying to meet his dad for the first time and thats kinda whats happening in the story

@depressedrainbowcake

@myazael

#arranged marriage au #batfam #damian wayne #damien #maridami #marinette cheng #marinette x damian #miraculous marinette #maribat #marinette x damian happy #dating #daminette

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takaraphoenix · 4 years ago

Note

Shadowhunters, of course. And Buffy!

Thanks for playing, dear! ^-^

Shadowhunters:

the character i least understand: Maryse, her characterization was so inconsistent, I don’t understand how you go from the neglective-bordering-abusive, homophobic, racist, cold-hearted ice-queen to the hugging, happy, sunshine mom in like a month, that was something that even years of stretched-out, actual character development would have struggled explaining but this show just went “she is nice and supportive now” and like what that’s not how a redemption arc works, you can’t just slap “redeemed” on their forehead and be done with it

interactions i enjoyed the most: what little scraps of platonic dynamics we got - Jace-Alec, Luke-Clary, Jace-Simon, Magnus-Raphael, Magnus-Catarina

the character who scares me the most: I don’t think any of them are really... scary, not even Valentine, he’s disgusting, but not scary, to me

the character who is mostly like me: Simon, maybe, but then I doubt I’m even half as pure of heart as him, but the rambling, the freak outs, the lost in this whole mess? That’d be me

hottest looks character: Depends. Generally, y’all know I am screaming Jace very loudly. Personally though, to me, Imogen, Jia and Maryse, judge me all you want, this show has quality MILFs

one thing i dislike about my fave character: he’s a push-over. I love Jace, I love him to bits and pieces, but he is such a push-over, he just blindly follows all that Clary says or suggests even if it’s the most obvious suicide mission, when his grandma suggests “hey it’d be a good idea to chip Downworlders!” he is too intimidated by the idea of losing her that he actually pulls through with that bullshit instead of speaking up, he lets people walk all over him because he is so desperate to please them

one thing i like about my hated character: her face. I mean, come on, Nicola Correia-Damude is ridiculously gorgeous

a quote or scene that haunts me: every time Jace tries to kill himself. Hits too close to home, I am not good at handling suicidal storylines and I am disgusted by just how much this show brushed the severity of it all off and how the other characters just didn’t give a damn

a death that left me indifferent: most? Like? I mean, who died? Alaric and Gretel, who we never really explored as characters, Valentine, which YAY and because he died twice DOUBLE YAY, Jocelyn, which YAY, Dot had me “she dead now?” like three times to the point that I am still not sure if she ACTUALLY died in the end or if she’s around still after all like what was that I just what, Jace immediately got better after dying, so did Simon, Sebastian’s was just way too rushed, the only one that really fucked with me was Imogen

a character i wish died but didn’t: listen, the Lightwoods should be orphans, potentially should have been for a while, maybe things woulda played out differently

my ship that never sailed: I’m not big on my ships having to be canon, I genuinely don’t need Magnus/Jace to be endgame, but there is one ship I wish had been canon and that’s Luke/Catarina, I genuinely think those two would be a great fit, it’d have been so easy to work off it after they met at the hospital, the cop and the nurse, the Downworlder power couple, Magnus as a matchmaker, this could have been a great canon ship

Buffy:

the character i least understand: each character has their moments/storylines where I don’d understand where they come from, but I guess the one I least understand is Dawn, she is so selfish it drives me up the wall, like I get she’s a teenager but ffs she can’t cut anyone some slack, she’s not a little child and she supposedly grew up with this... I just have zero tolerance or understanding for her selfishness, never had, never will

interactions i enjoyed the most: scoobies, especially the OG three - Buffy-Willow-Xander with each other, but also each time a new member slots in and how they adjust to it, how they interact with each of the scoobies and get established, definitely Giles-Buffy because he is the father she deserves, I have a particular soft-spot for Willow-Spike too

the character who scares me the most: Syd but like. I know he’s a good guy and all but he is a moving, talking, walking puppet and I have an inherent fear of puppets. Every time I rewatch, I forget that he is a good guy because the fact that he is a creepy, creepy puppet overrides it

the character who is mostly like me: Tara probably? She is shy, awkward, doesn’t know her place in the group, can get bright and loud and excited about the things she likes but when she notices everyone looks at her weirdly for her outburst she goes silent and averts her eyes and pretends she’s not there

hottest looks character: SPIKE AND BUFFY. preferably together

one thing i dislike about my fave character: Seeing Red

one thing i like about my hated character: listen, I hate her, but I do love the way Dawn’s character elevates others; be that how it gives Tillow the chance to be adorable lesbian moms, or having Spuffy co-parent her

a quote or scene that haunts me: In a negative manner, the above mentioned Seeing Red. Look up which episode that is and you know what scene I am talking about. In a “it kills me internally” manner, when Buffy sings “I think I was in heaven” because Sarah Michelle puts so much emotion in there and I am a sucker for a public reveal of fears and horrors and how this was put out in the open, man, that gets me every time

a death that left me indifferent: none aside from villain deaths, I guess? I mean, Tara and Jocelyn and even Jenny in how it was executed and what it did to the other characters and yes even Jesse, I am also still hung up on how Willow and Xander lost their best friend in the first storyline and I do think that it should have had more of an effect on them and would have been a good way to introduce their inner workings by showing their grief, but on the pure base of me knowing this would have had said unexecuted effect, it works on me too, like, he was the first person Buffy lost in Sunnydale, the first she couldn’t save

a character i wish died but didn’t: Dawn and no not the way you think, just because I hate her, but because I still think the “Dawn is the key, she was made of mystical energy and she, her whole being is the key” somehow translating to “well, since the monks made her human, we conveniently don’t need the whole Dawn, only her blood and that runs in Buffy’s veins too so we can kill Buffy off”, that just makes very little, very twisted sense because all of Dawn was the mystical energy, not just her blood and why would the mystical energy quality transfer onto Buffy? It was a cheap cop-out and I think Dawn should have died instead of Buffy because she was the key and for all intends and purposes, Buffy dying in her stead shouldn’t have worked because the key was never supposed to be HUMAN, it was never supposed to have blood, so why did the whole thing hinge on a blood-ritual, like the monks coulda turned the key into an actual physical metal key and that wouldn’t have had blood so what did Glory want to bleed out then? This twist was only clever at first glance but the more you think about the less sense it makes so yes, this is the one big plothole and I think Dawn should have died instead of Buffy so there would not be a plothole

my ship that never sailed:GILES/JOYCE. I will die on this hill. He should have become Buffy’s stepdad, he should have NEVER LEFT HER alone there, those two, it was teased, it should have actually sailed (* I consider Spuffy sailed. It has sailed. They are together)

Send me a fandom and I’ll tell you

#Buffy the Vampire Slayer #Shadowhunters #Fandom Ask Game #send me asks #shirasade

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more-miserables · 4 years ago

Text

Part Seven - White Wedding

@cubeswhump here. This title has no significance. Y'all know I'm terrible with titles and there's this bit about wedding dresses and I got that stupid Billy Idol song stuck in my head.

Tagging @liliability @albino-whumpee If you're not tagged and want to be, just let one of us know.

Yates was hoping he’d be able to curl up with Ginger under those soft, frilly bedsheets and take a nap, hoping he’d have time to digest all the extraordinary information they’d received in the past thirty-six hours. Ginger looked like he would have benefitted from some sleep too - but he didn’t even wait for his face to regain its colour. He hauled himself up on his wobbly legs, clinging to the wall for support.

“Come on,” he hissed. “I want to look around. Check everyone out.”

“I really think you should rest for today,” Yates mumbled, though he was already trailing after Ginger. “We don’t even have any real clothes.” Andromeda had brought them strange, soft pyjamas when they’d both showered after the doctor left. Ginger’s looked practically brand new - plaid pants and a soft black shirt with long sleeves. Yates’s were older, with a slightly washed-out look, the bright pink faded to a sickly peach. They were patterned with bright red roses; it seemed the person closest to his size was one of the girls.

“I doubt they’ll care what we wear. But we need to make sure these guys are the real deal, okay? Make sure they won’t report us.” The stairs were causing Ginger some difficulty, and Yates held him round the waist to guide him up. “Thanks. Look, I’ll sleep after we meet everybody, if you really want.”

“Okay…”

They jumped when at that precise moment, someone knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. Yates opened the door very reluctantly, and Andromeda strode down the stairs, smiling brightly at them both.

"Are you two hungry? Shall I bring a tray here again or would you like to come upstairs?"

“Upstairs please,” Ginger said, while Yates was still dithering over the choice and the astonishment that they’d been given one. “We want to look around.”

“Ginger does,” Yates whispered. He’d much rather cower in the basement himself.

"Well, we'd love to see you," Andromeda said, "but if you want to stay here while he looks around, there's the TV or I can find you an audiobook or some drawing stuff…"

“No thank you,” Yates said hastily, grabbing Ginger’s good hand. “I’d prefer to stay with him.”

Andromeda nodded, and though he smiled, the look in his eye and his lingering gaze made Yates uncomfortable. He chatted as he led them upstairs and through elaborately decorated, spotless halls.

"There are lots of choices so I think you'll find something you like. Everyone likes different things here. Xander gets sick from a lot of foods so we have to limit certain things. David is back over and he just likes toast and tea, but you can have something more exciting if you'd like."

“We should probably introduce ourselves to David, if he’s our new owner,” Yates said. “We need to be respectful.”

"No, he's not your owner. No one has owners here," Andromeda said calmly, and added, "Well, except the animals."

“It might take him a while to grasp it,” Ginger mumbled. “He was always better at this than I was.”

The kitchen was its own room with the wall connecting to the flamboyant living room knocked down. There was an actual booth by the very large windows, blue benches with grey pillows and a marble table, and a table with chairs that matched the bench nearby. This was clearly the main room they ate in.

Tina, Nils, and Harley were at the table - and there was a new boy there too, pressed right up against Tina's side. His hair had more brown to it than Ginger's, but Ginger almost felt glad he wasn't the only redhead. But this boy had skin that was almost tan and none of the freckles splattered all over Ginger.

There were three more people at the other table, a baby in a wooden highchair, a woman, and a… Yates did a double take and was pretty sure he was a man. The woman wore a very fancy nightgown, decorative lace and silk and way too much effort to sleep in. Her legs were propped up on another chair and she had on fuzzy slippers with rabbit ears, ruining the effect. She was very pretty, though, with dark eyes and smooth brown skin and high cheekbones. Her hair was very big and curly, dark brown with blonde highlights. The baby had very dark hair with curls like hers and skin the same shade, and the frilly pink clothes suggested she was also a girl.

The man across from her seemingly ignored her for his phone, sipping his tea carefully so he wouldn't smudge his lipstick. Who in their right mind would wake up and put on a full face of makeup this early? His shirt was shiny purple silk that matched his nails and his black hair fell in loose curls, and judging by the lines around his eyes Ginger secretly thought that wasn't his real color.

Yates ducked behind Ginger, suddenly shy. This man - if he really was a man, Yates still wasn’t totally sure - was unlike any he’d ever seen. He looked nothing like any of the men who came by Stanley’s house, and he didn’t look like the people at the facility. He couldn’t help seeming rather formidable, with his cool air of class and his perfect posture. The serious look on his face didn’t help. Ginger couldn’t think why anyone would paint their face just to sit there looking miserable, but he was quickly distracted by the baby. She was cute, sure, but also the most unexpressive, dull baby ever. He squinted. Was it even blinking?

Andromeda ran through a list of vaguely familiar names: "You've met Tina, Nils, and Harley. That's Briar, that's Priscilla, and that's David. Xander and Jay usually sleep in and Crow's a little nervous to meet you two just yet."

Yates heard none of that, and he didn't see the auburn-haired boy glaring or the unfamiliar woman sizing them up. He also didn't hear this woman say, "Fresh meat."

He only heard Andromeda say David. He saw the finger pointing at this new man, and David turning to nod at them. He saw David shake his head at the woman at his table.

This was David, the new owner. And Yates had no idea what to expect from a man like this. He went to kneel and show respect again, but Ginger caught him by the scruff of his pyjamas and held him there. Yates froze, staring at David helplessly.

Yates nearly jumped when this man spoke. His voice was surprisingly deep and very plummy.

"You don't have to stay standing. There's space over here, or you can sit over there since you're acquainted with Tina and Nils," he said, waving a hand in their direction and adjusting his glasses with the other.

Yates started asking in a tiny voice which David would prefer, but Ginger wasn’t in the greatest mood after having his hand hacked at for half the morning. He grabbed Yates mid-sentence and dragged him over to Tina’s table.

Andromeda was by their side, running down a list of food options, but both were distracted. At the forefront of Yates' mind was this David, and Ginger was having a staring contest with Nils. Only Nils would not make eye contact and Ginger had no clue what he was staring at. His drink was in a sippy cup and his waffles and fruit were cut into tiny bits. Odd.

“What were you trained as?” he asked. Maybe a domestic - he wasn’t particularly pretty, just like Ginger himself.

Tina gave Nils a fond pat on the shoulder. “Nils didn’t quite have the same background as you, dear. But he’s equally safe and happy here.” She didn’t elaborate, and Ginger was left more confused than ever.

Nils looked at her, squinting like he had no idea what she was talking about. But he went back to his plate, dripping syrup down his bare chest and whining when Tina wiped him down with a flannel. He didn't close his mouth to chew either. Watching him eat wasn't terribly appetizing. Ginger was almost glad he didn’t have much appetite, but he put a waffle in front of Yates. “You should eat something. When did you last eat properly?”

Yates bent his head. “I’m… not sure I should eat.”

“Why not? You must be hungry.”

“But I haven’t done anything to deserve it,” Yates muttered. His voice was low, but Tina still heard.

“You don’t have to earn food, sweetheart,” she said. “Nobody does. You can eat all you want here. You’re not going to get into trouble for eating.”

"It's good to keep our energy up, yeah?" Andromeda called from where he sat at David's table. "You can have however much you want. Both of you."

Yates nibbled his lip. This had to be a trick. Stanley used to do it too. He’d ask Yates if he thought he deserved to eat, and if he said yes he was punished for taking luxuries for granted, and if he said no he’d be punished for not working hard enough.

Ginger sighed. He cut off a corner of the waffle and held it up to Yates. Yates sucked in his lips and Ginger snorted. “Are you five? Come on. Just a bit.”

Yates shook his head stubbornly.

“For me?” Ginger said, putting a breathy, sickly-sweet imitation of Yates’s own voice. Yates gave him a disgruntled look - but parted his lips slightly all the same. Ginger quickly stuffed the fork in his mouth before he could reconsider.

Andromeda caught Tina's eye and grinned. She winked.

As Ginger helped Yates through his breakfast, he stared across the table again, trying to size everyone up. Nils was still painting himself with syrup, commanding most of Tina’s attention, so Ginger looked at the boy clinging to her other side. Brian, was it?

Nils stole most of the attention but when you actually noticed this boy, he was possibly weirder. He just stared at Tina wordlessly and wouldn't touch his eggs and pancakes until she nudged him, at which point he would take a bite or two and then go back to staring. At one point, he noticed Ginger's gaze - and gave him the most ferocious scowl.

Ginger felt affronted and pulled a hideous face back, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose.

"Ah!" Nils suddenly yelled out, jumping up and pressing his face to the window. Harley barely glanced up, like this was ordinary, but Ginger's eyebrows shot up at the goat grazing just outside.

“What is he doing?” Ginger asked weakly. Not that he was upset by the sight of the goat. It looked quite sweet. Maybe it would let him stroke it? If he was allowed. No, even if he wasn’t! He was through taking orders now.

“Why don’t you show them the animals when we finish eating?” Andromeda called over. “Maybe you two new boys would like to see around the house.”

“I’d rather see the animals,” Ginger said. Yates wasn’t too keen on that - he’d much rather look around the house - but he didn’t want to be away from Ginger. He kept quiet.

After everyone had finished, Andromeda collected plates and started cleaning up. Nils crawled over Tina and Briar, who yelled, “Get off!” He was standing before anyone else, waving his arms at Ginger and Yates in an exaggerated beckoning gesture.

They stood obediently, Yates clinging onto Ginger’s good hand. They could’ve been glued together now for all the time they spent linked. They followed Nils to the door, Ginger having to drag Yates out because he didn’t want his bare feet on the grass. Nils, though fairly clean right now, looked like he belonged out here with the animals with his toffee-colored hair standing out in every direction, shirtless with freckles all across his face and torso and barefoot with overgrown toenails. He ran to a shed first.

“What’s in here?” Ginger asked, pointing to the shed. “Which animal?”

Nils turned to them, bunching his four fingers and thumb together and tapping his lips twice before leading them into the shed. The shed was small and from what Ginger could see, there were no animals in there. Just canisters, buckets, metal bowls, and hay. Nils popped the lids off to canisters and started filling a plastic bucket with grey-brown pellets.

“I don’t know what your hand gestures mean,” Ginger told him. “Can you point to what I need to get?”

Nils grunted a bit as he picked the bucket up, and he shoved it into Ginger’s arms. Ginger had to let go of Yates to grab it, and Yates clung to his shirt instead. Then Yates was nearly knocked over when something bashed into his shoulder. He looked down to see the small block of hay that had hit him, and back up to see Nils pointing at him.

“You want my help too?” He hastily grabbed the hay block, eager to be of use. Nils nodded and gave Yates another small block, and he filled up another bucket with pellets and corn and hauled it up himself, cheeks puffing out, and led them out the door. He was almost as small as Yates, and at least a few years younger, but he seemed to trust himself more with the heavier of the feed.

“I guess we’re not worthy of the hard jobs yet,” Ginger muttered, but he didn’t sound cross. He was smiling.

Nils dragged them around the yard. It was big, a bit too big as Nils kept nearly dropping his bucket and when he set it down to take a break, a big goat and a smaller one ran at him. He held it above them and shook his head, but he turned to Ginger and tilted his head toward the goats.

“This?” Ginger checked, pointing to his bucket. The goats were showing a lot of interest in him. The little one lowered its head and bumped Ginger’s legs, making him squeak in surprise.

Nils nodded. “Oh,” he said, like an instruction.

Ginger scattered the food rather nervously. The goats stayed by his bucket, clearly unimpressed, so he tried again, bolder this time. He scattered large handfuls of feed and the goats pounced on it. He looked at Nils while they were distracted. “Can I touch them? Do they mind?”

Nils nodded, patting the little one. Another goat trotted over, roughly the same size as the bigger one but this one was black, brown, and white. Ginger knelt by the brown one. It was preoccupied with the food; it probably wouldn’t mind being stroked. Ginger ran his good hand over the coarse fur, feather-light and tentative. Nils picked his own bucket up again when the little one became interested, hugging it to his chest to keep hold of it. Yates stood back, holding his hay blocks like a shield. He wasn’t too sure about these goats, with their staring yellow eyes and weird smells. He gasped when one of the goats started sniffing at the blocks, but Nils pushed it away with his foot, nearly overbalancing and falling over.

He made another noise, nudging Ginger with his shoulder.

“Are we done here?” Ginger asked. Nils nodded. “Where to next?”

Nils led them around, showing them a giant pig and her piglets in a big pen (who practically inhaled the bucket of food and blocks of hay), returning to the shed to get food for the noisy chickens (Ginger actually squealed when he saw the tiny chicks), and the two cows who wandered the yard with the goats already had their food, hay and other plant matter, that they ate through the bars of a circular fixture. Ginger was running back and forth after they’d finished feeding the animals, as if he couldn’t get enough of them all, and though Yates allowed himself to be pulled to and fro, he was more focused on the two men who had appeared by the fence than the animals.

One was fairly tall and dressed in black with hair that matched, and the other was in a wheelchair, chin-length brunette hair sticking out in all directions like a dandelion. He had an eyepatch over one eye and stared back at Yates as the other man spoon-fed him from a bowl.

“Who are they?” Yates tried to ask Nils, but he just made some of his confusing gestures. He accosted Ginger instead, but he was even less interested.

“Who cares? I’m going to see the baby pigs again,” he said.

Yates hesitated. If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t really want to go look at the pigs again. He wanted to meet everybody, to make sure they would be safe here. He looked up at Ginger. “Stay by the pigs? So I can still see you. I want to meet those men.”

Ginger nodded. “I will. Be careful with them. You never know what people can do.”

You never know what people can do. Yates never knew he’d be able to push old men down their stairs. He shook his head hard, going towards the two men by the fence. He wouldn’t think of Stanley.

The wheelchair was similar to Stanley’s, designed to be pushed by another person rather than driven by the user, with its tall back and armrests. But this wasn’t a weary old man; he was… an adult. Yates couldn’t quite distinguish ages. People were children, adults, elderly. This man was probably on the younger side of adulthood. He looked around the age of most trainees: above eighteen, always. All WRU trainers are of legal age. But never too old, no. They had to be young and desirable. He had no collar, of course. He wouldn’t be a pet. But no one here wore collars.

And this man shrank down in his chair as Yates approached, pressing his head down to his knees with his red-gloved hands over it protectively. The man standing smiled, though his expression was guarded. “Hey. You’re the new guy?”

“One of them,” Yates whispered. He felt quieter and quieter when he was separated from Ginger, like he started fading away altogether.

“Yeah, you can’t miss the redhead. He abandoned you then? The animals can be a big draw. Nice to meet you, anyway. I’m Jay. This is Xander.” He gestured to the man in the chair. “He’s kind of shy with new people. Hey, Xand! Don’t you want to say hello? It’s alright, this one looks quiet and docile.”

“I am,” Yates assured them, trying to be helpful.

Xander didn’t move for a moment, but then he slowly sat up. He looked back and forth between Jay and Yates.

“Do you have a name yet, Curly?” Jay asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh well, that’s something you can think about. Don’t worry too much about it here, it’s really okay when you get used to it. We’re doing okay here, eh, Xand?”

Xander just returned his gaze to Jay, staring up at him.

“Are you a bonded pair too?”

“No,” Jay said shortly. He didn’t offer any other explanation and his smile dropped. Yates backed away and ran back to Ginger, terrified he’d upset them.

Ginger, along with Nils, was in the pig pen. Yates gasped. “Ginger! Don’t get your bandages dirty.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ginger grumbled. “We need to think of new names now. Good names. Anyway, never mind that. Look at this pig!” He held up the smallest piglet. “He’s so much smaller than the other ones!”

“Put him down, you’re going to get your hand infected all over again,” Yates cried.

“I’m barely touching him with that hand! It still hurts a lot. Stop fussing. Don’t you want to come in and meet the pigs?” Ginger said distractedly, still with an armful of piglet. He wasn’t looking at Yates. He was grinning right at Nils.

Yates felt his cheeks growing warm. He had a sudden terrible urge to snatch Ginger away from Nils, away from the animals, away from this very house. He’d never had to share Ginger’s attention before. It hurt even more that Ginger didn’t seem to notice, laughing at something Nils did. Making friends without him.

Yates could feel his eyes burning. He wasn’t supposed to cry, but the rules were so weird here, maybe he could. Even so, he didn’t want Ginger to see. Yates turned and trailed back to the house - and the fact that Ginger still didn’t notice made the tears start pouring.

"Excuse me? Are you all right?"

Yates just about had a heart attack. It was David. Yates scrubbed his face hastily. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

"Did something happen?" he pressed on. Yates couldn't detect anger in his tone or face, but he couldn't detect much else either.

“I’m being ridiculous,” he sniffled. “Acting like a jealous child…”

"Well, sometimes people react in ways that are… that they think are absurd. But it's better to just let it happen." He paused. "As long as it isn't a reaction that harms anyone."

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone!” Yates cried - then his face went pale. He started shaking, eyes wide.

David looked taken aback. He looked around as if wanting to signal help.

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Yates insisted, much louder. Don’t think about Stanley, don’t don’t don’t...

"I'm sure you wouldn’t. I was just adding as a general rule of thumb."

Yates didn’t know what that meant. He looked down at his trembling hands. Did thumbs have rules now too?

David fumbled in his bag - would that be called a purse or a satchel? - and handed Yates a tissue. He took it and quickly tried to wipe away any evidence of tears. “I don’t think I’m Ginger’s favourite anymore,” he said mournfully. “He likes those pigs best.”

David was silent for a long moment. "Would you like to sit down? I'll make tea."

Yates decided those kinds of questions could be taken as orders. He sat at once.

"Havin' a tea party, Davey?" That singsong voice… The woman with the baby.

That woman left a moment later, patting her baby's back. She paused and winked at Yates, and he shrank down until she disappeared.

At last, David returned, looking unnatural carrying a tray.

"Make your tea however you'd like," he said, taking his own cup.

“I don’t really know how I like it, sir.”

"Please, just David." He looked at the younger man's mug, patterned with flowers. "Why don't we experiment and find out what you like? In general, do you prefer foods that are very sweet?"

Yates still wasn’t sure. Didn’t David know they were given the barest, blandest food available, if they were fed at all? But he obediently spooned a little sugar and honey into his cup.

"Yes, see if you like that. Add more if you would like, but I would suggest only a little at a time. You can always add more but not take away."

Yates couldn’t understand why they were having such a blasé conversation while he was just mourning the loss of his partner to some stupid animals. Maybe David didn’t understand how devastatingly serious this was. “It’s Ginger who likes sweet things. He’s good at making cakes, doing the frostings.” His words wavered as his eyes filled up with tears again.

"You're speaking as if he's died."

“He’s not dying!” Yates started sobbing in earnest.

David was quiet for a moment. He took the smallest sip of his own tea. "Then it sounds like this problem can be resolved.”

“How?” Yates wept. “I don’t know how! We were just us before. Nobody else.”

"Yes, you're a bonded pair. Tell me, what will happen if you spend an hour or so apart, and then come back together?"

“Well… Back at our old place, we wouldn’t see each other all day. But we’d be chained together at night. It was okay again.”

"Don't you share a room? You'll still be spending nights together."

“Ginger might want to sleep with Nils instead. He’s funny and he knows about animals. I don’t know anything about them,” Yates said glumly. “And I’m not funny. I’m really boring.”

"I'm sure that's not true. But I think while he's preoccupied with the animals, you might like to find something you enjoy. A hobby."

“A hobby.” Yates muttered the word like it was another language. “Just for myself?”

"Yes. Most of the residents - recovering boxies, that is, like you - have hobbies." David sounded like he was making a business proposal, tone very serious and expression unchanging. Yates wasn't sure how he knew this, but David was definitely a businessman.

"I've met two other bonded pairs, one here and one at another property I work with," he went on, "and while they all stayed very close with their former bonded, I think they all found something to do on their own. Two from the same pair have even gotten jobs separately."

Separate. The very word frightened Yates. “H-how..?”

"Well, it took some time."

“I don’t remember… a time when we were separate.” It was like Yates couldn’t even comprehend the possibility.

"I think everyone needs some alone time. Spending time alone doesn't mean you're growing apart. If anything, I think it may help you both."

“How?” Yates burst out. “I don’t want to grow apart!”

David looked at him properly. He looked him in the eye, and Yates realized they hadn't made eye contact this whole time. David hadn't looked at his face much at all.

"Two people will form a sort of bond by marrying. They agree to spend life together, but do they spend every moment of the day together? Do they share every interest and hobby?" David asked. "Identical twins come from the same tiny cell that breaks apart. They develop and are born together. Parents frequently dress them alike and people treat them as if they're one person rather than two. But they are individuals and they typically develop their own identities, establishing their own style, separate interests, take different classes in uni."

“But me and Ginger don’t look alike,” Yates mumbled. He found it hard to grasp what David was talking about. He wished he’d just come out with it.

"You were treated as a single unit, but that's not what you are. You're two individuals. Separate people."

Yates wasn’t really getting the point, and it was clear on his face. Weeks of intense training couldn’t be erased so quickly. Maybe they were two separate people, but Ginger felt like a part of Yates. It felt like Yates wasn’t whole without him.

"Why don't you give hobbies a try? Then when your friend comes back in you can tell him about what you've done. It'll give you lots to talk about."

“What sort of hobbies?”

"Why don't you get to know some of the others and ask? Andromeda knits, Harley likes all kinds of arts and crafts, Priscilla has been able to relearn how to read and she likes poetry and makeup, Crow - well, he won't want to be bothered yet. But everyone will be friendly."

“I can just go up to them? They won’t be angry?” Yates checked.

"They won't, no."

“Okay. Thank you, sir - David.”

David nodded. Yates left the table, going in search of somebody else. Probably Andromeda, if he could find him. At least he made more sense than David.

Yates was struck by the messiness of the place as he moved from room to room; Stanley and Ivy had insisted on keeping a clean and tidy house. This place was chaotically cosy, with bright pictures on the walls and various possessions scattered about. The furniture was clearly high quality, though frequently buried under blankets.

"Hiya!"

Even while he was seeking Andromeda out, Yates jumped when Andromeda greeted him in the hallway.

“Hello, sir. David says I should try some hobbies,” Yates reported.

"Oh, he did?" Andromeda asked. "Do you want to right now, or would you rather not?"

“Well… I don’t really have any other tasks to perform. And Ginger is busy,” he said mournfully.

"It's okay to do nothing for a little while. We can put something on the telly, maybe, or we could try a hobby."

“I’m allowed to watch the television?” Yates seemed a tiny bit brighter.

"You are! Everyone's jealous you have a TV in your room," Andromeda laughed, "but you can watch TV in the living room as well."

“We can give the TV to someone else if you’d prefer,” Yates said quickly.

"Not if you and Ginger enjoy it!"

Yates decided to ask Ginger later. He was sick of making decisions.

"What will it be then?" Andromeda asked, smiling. "Telly or an activity? Or we could even do both."

More decisions. Yates mumbled that he’d like to try watching TV, mostly because he knew you just had to sit there and watch it. He felt exhausted already.

"Living room or your room?"

“Living room?” He said it like he wasn’t sure. But Ginger would have to pass the living room when he came back. He’d see Yates and want to sit with him again…

"Okay! Would you like me to watch with you?"

“Yes please. If you don’t mind, sir.”

"I don't mind at all," Andromeda said cheerfully, walking him back to the living room. David was no longer on the sofa. Yates sat on the floor automatically. Those sofas were fancy, there’s no way he’d be allowed to sit on them.

"Are you comfortable there?" Andromeda asked, perching on the leather cushion.

“I’m perfectly fine, sir.”

He flinched when Andromeda moved suddenly, but then could only blink his eyes in confusion when he found Andromeda sitting beside him on the floor.

"Let's see what's on. Looks like someone was on the wildlife channel, but I take it that's more your friend's style?" Andromeda said, different images flashing across the screen faster than Yates could keep up. "Cooking, baking, cartoons, reality - which is more scripted and dramaticized than real, but if I'm being honest… I love trash TV. Fashion, more reality, more cooking, cartoons again…"

“Why are those ladies choosing such fancy white dresses?” Yates asked, seeing a wedding dress program flick by.

Andromeda went back to the channel. "Oh, those are wedding dresses! They're choosing their outfits to get married in."

“Married?” He’d heard of that, but only when referring to their potential masters back at the facility. Yates knew weddings had giant fancy cakes because Ginger had been taught how to make them - but he’d never realised they had these special dresses too. “That’s what ladies wear to weddings?”

"Mhm. Big white dresses are customary, at least in primarily English speaking countries. Where I grew up, women would usually wear colorful silk with patterns and hats, though the white dresses and veils have started catching on."

“You didn’t grow up here?”

"No, I grew up in Mongolia," Andromeda said, though his accent sounded no different from his own. "Do you know where that is?"

Yates shook his head. He didn’t have a clue where Mongolia was. He didn’t even know which side of a map it’d be on.

"Do you know the seven continents? Asia?"

“Sort of,” Yates said vaguely. The names felt familiar, but he wasn’t sure why. Like déja vu.

Andromeda got his phone out of his pocket. He showed Yates a screen with clumps of green surrounded with blue. "We're here on this little island, which is actually rather big and doesn't feel much like an island. This is Mongolia waaaay over here."

“It’s bigger than here,” he mumbled. “Do you remember it?”

"Mhm. My parents and I moved here when I was twelve."

“Why don’t your parents live here too?”

"Well, they died after coming here, when I was still a kid. And I don't have family in this country so I went into foster care. Do you know what foster care is?"

Yates shook his head.

"When there's no one to look after a kid, they go into foster care where designated caregivers look after them."

“So is David your caregiver?”

"He was. I'm twenty-eight now, well past aging out of the system, so now I'm taking on some caretaking myself."

“Caring for us?” Yates clarified. It still seemed foreign to him. They were the ones trained for caring.

"Mhm."

“But that’s our job.”

"Well right now, both our jobs are to judge that wedding dress."

Yates frowned, but faced the television obediently. “She doesn’t look very happy with it.”

"What kind of clothes would you be happy wearing?" Andromeda asked. Any clothes. Not necessarily wedding."

“Um…” Yates paused. “I don’t know a lot of clothes. Just something comfy?”

"Comfy sounds nice."

“I don’t know what kind Ginger likes. Probably ones with animals on,” he said, a little tartly.

"Do you like clothes? Do you like the design and stuff?"

Yates shrugged. “I’d like to see more of them.”

"So you like this show?"

Yates nodded. He did like it too, he wasn’t just saying what he thought was the right answer. This show was simple. The women came in, picked out a few dresses they didn’t like, then found their dream dress and everybody cried and hugged and went away happy. He liked that.

#whump #box boy whump #bbu #pet whump #male whumpee #recovery whump #my characters #my writing

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chaos-weekly · 3 years ago

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“I didn’t even sleep with him!” Okay. That wasn’t accurate. Didi hadn’t sleep with Xander when he was still seeing Leah. He was one of her best friends (admittedly with great benefits), but that was a line she wouldn’t cross, and he respected that. But she definitely had slept with him other times.

“Even if I did believe you, it doesn’t matter. Your reputation is a trash fire, and as your agent, I can’t let that happen.”

Didi rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it’ll even matter. I’m still gonna get casted.”

“For the same character. Every time. I would know, I’m the one you whine to,” Jared retorted. Her agent had a point. She did get cast mostly as the spoiled brat type, and she really did hate it. Yeah, she pulled it off perfectly, but she could do other roles perfectly, too. She felt like she’d never leave the London Tipton role, though. Sadly, Jared was right about that.

“Whatever. I still don’t see why I have to pretend to date someone just for publicity’s sake. Plenty of people sleep with other people all the time! What’s the big deal?”

Jared sighed. He didn’t exactly like Didi that much, but at least the feeling was mutual.

“Leah Cavan is the country’s favorite singer. She’s the next Taylor Swift, and currently, you’re the 2014 Katy Perry. The fact that she said you’re the one Xander cheated on her with—“

“I wasn’t.”

“Means that the world blames you for their breakup. If you really are innocent—“

“I am!”

“Then you need to play by my rules. Give yourself an alibi. Saying you and JJ from Arsenic have been secretly dating for months will save your reputation and hopefully my job.”

Wait.

No.

No!

Didi refused to accept this. JJ? From Arsenic? She hated his guts! And he hated her! They’d made that all too clear in their Twitter subtweet wars. Everyone knew they hated each other.

“No.” She wouldn’t do this. Even if her reputation was a trash fire like Jared said—a point she refused to agree with—nobody would believe that she and freaking Jude Jackson aka JJ were secretly in love.

“Yes,” Jared told her, voice already tired. For being only 30 years old, the dude sounded way too tired all the time. Probably ‘cause he always was chugging coffee.

“No one will believe it, Jared,” Didi whined. Maybe that wasn’t the most mature thing, but she wasn’t going to agree to this! No way. Not JJ. Maybe she’d agree to fake dating someone else, as long as they were hot, but JJ? They’d only met briefly in person a few times, but each time had ended disastrously. Like when he bumped into her and made her spill her drink all over her one of a kind Dolce and Gabbana dress and hadn’t even noticed! Sure, she was never gonna wear it again—that would be tacky—but he could have at least apologized for ruining her night! And that was the lesser offense. Didi didn’t want to get into the other time she met him. It hadn’t been pretty.

“They already do,” Jared smirked.

If only throttling her manager wouldn’t land her in even more trouble. Didi wasn’t sure what he’d done, but she didn’t trust him. Even if he was great at getting her better roles and saving her reputation. She didn’t trust him, and she hated his methods.

“What do you mean?” Didi hissed.

His smirk grew. The audacity.

“A third of your fans have been following your and JJ’s supposed relationship for the last year, ever since Arsenic first went big and you two met. So now we’re making it real.” She opened her mouth, but Jared kept talking. “You’re the one who planted the seeds, Divina. Don’t argue with me when you’re the one who got us into this mess.”

She didn’t even sleep with Xander that time!

“I didn’t get us into this mess! Leah effing Cavan did!”

Jared stared at her tiredly. Ugh. She’d wear him down. She’d have to.

“Yeah, we’ll Leah isn’t my client, and it’s not my job to make sure the world doesn’t hate her. So shut up and act like you’re in love. It’s just another role, Didi. Maybe it’ll get you a role you won’t whine about.” He rolled his eyes, and Didi hoped his mother was rolling over in her grave in anger at her son’s behavior. Only she was pretty sure his mom wasn’t actually dead.

Jared pressed a button on his landline. “Jacob? Send JJ and his manager in.”

Didi sank lower in her seat. Why was the world putting her through this? Why?

The door opened moments later, and some young guy entered in front of the devil himself. He even had red hair. Could it be more accurate?

Didi stared ahead as JJ entered, but she could feel his (rather impressive) (also annoyingly sexy, based on past experiences) glare focused on her.

“No.” His tone was harsh. Didi knew he didn’t like her, but did he have to be so rude to her face? This was what Twitter and interviews were for.

“I’m not doing this, Jake,” JJ argued. Jacob/Jake gestured for JJ to take the seat next to her. Luckily for everyone’s lives and general health, he took the seat closest to the door instead.

Jared and Jake sighed in unison.

“Listen, you two are doing this. Arsenic’s announcing a new album next month, and you, Didi, need a positive image. Which means a stable, public relationship.”

Didi scoffed. Who needed stability in love? Totally overrated. Love was totally overrated. She didn’t get why Xander always fell under Leah’s spell.

But it was good to hear that one of her favorite bands was going to release an album soon. That was definitely good news. She’d just never tell anyone that.

Especially not JJ.

“I’m not doing this. Not with him,” Didi said as indignantly as ever.

“Thanks for the love,” JJ snarked in return. She turned her glare on him, matching his with every bit of fierceness she could muster. Which was a lot.

“Yes, you are, Divina. For the next seven months, you two are contractually tied to be publicly dating. So don’t screw it up, and Didi, don’t screw other people so obviously. I know you’re not gonna keep Xander out of your pants, but at least keep it on the down low.”

Oh, Didi was going to absolutely murder Jared. Throttling would no longer be sufficient.

“Xander and I aren’t like that.” Yeah, they hooked up for fun, but they were still friends. Sometimes with benefits, but still friends.

Jared gave her a pointed look before handing over a wad of papers. “Read these, sign these. You have the rest of the business day. Now shop.”

It took Didi half an hour to get through the contract. She was a fast reader and fluent in legalese thanks to her many movie contracts. That, and she was friends with Xander and often helped him when he started bending/breaking the rules. By the time Didi went back to Jared’s office, she was shocked to find JJ leaving. She was the fast reader here. Did he have a question or something? Why didn’t he just call?

“Finished already?” she asked. JJ nodded with a glare.

“So you do have a brain. Huh.” Didi kept walking, but she stopped when JJ spoke again.

“I was a CPA before the band went big.”

Oh. That actually made sense. But she couldn’t imagine him wearing a stuffy suit and tie. The image made her smile, and Didi was very glad he couldn’t see. But the idea of JJ in a suit was freaking hilarious.

“Hmph,” she muttered, not deigning you reply any further to his defense. It was time to sell her soul and date the devil.

#chaos weekly #rising from the ashes

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nicketynic · 5 years ago

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Bellarke January Joy Day 9: Don’t Let Go (1/2)

For @bellarkejanuaryjoy.

Canon divergent from the end of 6x09, only in the way that I originally didn’t think Bellarke would reunite until after Josephine was donezo. I stubbornly refuse to let go of the reunion scene my brain came up with. (Also, off-screen Becho breakup, and full honesty, I don’t know whether the rain on Sanctum is toxic, but I’m not letting that get in my way)

Bellamy stormed out of the tent, not caring that he had stepped out into a downpour, as long as he put distance between himself and Gabriel...Xander...whatever he wanted to call himself these days. The man may be the lesser evil compared to Russell’s santimonious take on serial murder, but being around any bodysnatcher for too long left a bad taste in his mouth.

He was soaked within moments, hair and clothing clinging to his body like a second skin. It was only after he pushed back the heavy fall of hair plastered to his face that he spotted it, a flash of yellow several yards away, standing out blatantly against a blurry landscape of greens, browns, and grays. Any real details eluded him through the blinding sheets of rain, but it was still enough to electrify every sense and fill him with a dangerous sort of hope.

His heart pounded, hammering out a desperate tattoo in time with the rapidfire mantra of her name in his head. Clarke, Clarke, Clarke. He fought desperately to keep his hopes from rising too high. Gabriel may have claimed she was in the clear, but nothing in this place had been trustworthy from the moment they landed. Still, despite himself, he started moving without conscious choice, and just as he was about to start running, that tantalizing glimpse of color became abruptly clearer as a familiar beloved figure raced toward him.

Clarke’s absence over the past days, from her supposed death to her life hanging in the balance for the hundredth time since the Dropship, had been a desperate misery bourne of knowing what it was to lose her, ripping and tormenting until he was forced to slap a bandage over the gaping wound of her loss in order to make that wretched deal with Russell. Losing her was the equivalent of having his heart torn away from the very core of him, only to be hastily returned shattered and broken from the moment he met Clarke’s soulful eyes and found an imposter looking back at him.

The overwhelming longing and ache to have her back at his side had fuelled his every moment since realizing she was still alive, and now here she was, propelling herself towards him with that same desperate need that had been haunting his every breath and step.

They finally drew close enough to one another for their eyes to connect and Clarke nearly sobbed with relief, the naked awe and love etched across his face all she needed to abandon her reservations and fly into his arms, strong and warm as he wrapped them around her. She clung to him, revelling in the real, tangible evidence of Bellamy pressed against her.

Pulling back just enough to meet his gaze and speak, she paused as he raised a hand to cup her cheek, a calloused thumb tracing the progress of the soft smile she gave him. A beat of something heavy and unspoken passed between them, and then Bellamy dipped his head to brush his lips against hers. Once, twice; soft, tentative, and questioning. Lips parted just enough for a shuddering breath to fill the air between them and then they collided together, desperate and hungry for contact.

Strong hands found her hips, lifting her to him and her legs locked around his waist, anchoring her to his body. Their hands were anything but idle, his caressing her hips and back as she arched encouragingly into his touch, hers stroking his jaw and neck, tangling in his hair, tugging and urging him closer and closer still. Anything to erase the infinitesimal space between them, until she would never have to part from him ever again.

The rain continued to pelt down against their skin, cold and biting, but Clarke hardly noticed as Bellamy kissed her with an intensity akin to a starving man presented with a feast. His heat was intoxicating, scorching her everywhere and burning her from the inside out. Eager to explore more of her, he broke the kiss to trail down to her neck. She gasped and hummed in approval, but the absence of his mouth on hers, consuming her every thought and sensation, brought forward a whisper of doubt in the back of her mind. A reminder of everything she had seen and felt in the mind prison Josephine trapped her in, how real and tangible it all had been, and the cold, heavy weight of doubt began to plague her.

What better way for a sociopath hijacking her brain to make certain she faded away quietly than letting her believe she had escaped and gotten everything she wanted?

Fear settled heavy and tight in her chest, a low whimper rising in her throat. Bellamy paused his attentions, uncertain for a beat whether the sound was one of pleasure or distress, question answered when he licked his lips and realized he tasted salt. She was crying.

Clarke was crying and he panicked. If he had misunderstood, if he had crossed the line, misinterpreted the signs from her, he would walk himself out into Sanctum’s wilds and be done with it.

“Clarke...Clarke, what’s wrong? Did I...I thought you wanted...did I hurt you?”

She vehemently shook her head in denial. The day Bellamy Blake touched her without consent was the day she could be sure he had been bodysnatched himself. “No, Bell, it’s not…” she trailed off, face collapsing into an expression of abject misery, and he immediately cupped her face in concern.

“Talk to me, Clarke.”

She sobbed and his heart twisted, helpless and raging against all those who had ever hurt her. Her eyes were dark and haunted, red-rimmed with tears, and he struck by a profound desire to bundle her up and take her far, far away, leave behind all the chaos and pain and finally have the time to heal in peace.

“Is this real?” she pleaded brokenly, and that longing only continued to grow. “Please, Bell, tell me this is real?”

He took her hands, placing one against the pulse in his neck, slipping the other beneath the collar of his shirt to rest over his heart. “This is real, Clarke. I’m real. I’m right here. Can you feel me?”

Clarke nodded, focusing on the palpable proof of his life and his devotion, the steady beating of his loving, loyal heart. “Bell,” the whisper of his name was soft and tender as she tipped her forehead against his and held his gaze.

Bellamy took in a shuddering breath, framing her face in large, warm hands. “I’ve got you, Clarke. I promised you together once, I won’t let you down again.”

#bjj2020 #bellarke #the 100 #my fic

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 4 years ago

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The Gallant One

September 29, 2020

Prompt - Write a part of your story that could’ve been different if it was told by someone else.

Characters - Miles, Butchy, Mick, Lela

Notes - This is the pain in the butt that got deleted. I couldn’t remember all of it, so it definitely isn’t as long as I know it had been, but I really tried to get it all in here. The ending is very different from the first one I had done, but I think it wraps up nicely.

It all happened so fast. The race was going fine up until that moment. Mick had been able to convince Butch to race Xander; how she did that with no recollection of their relationship, nobody really knew, but we didn’t fight them about it, anyway. They were racing down one of the only strips of road in town that the police allowed everyone to use for races. Butchy had taken the lead from Xander and it seemed like that would be how the race ended. I guess we were wrong.

We all watched in horror when Xander hit the tail of Butchy’s motorcycle just hard enough to throw him off and lose control of his bike. I don’t really remember what happened after that, but the one thing I do remember was Mick screaming next to me. She had all but collapsed on the ground. How did anyone expect her not to? Butchy was the love of her life. I know I drove her down to him, but my memory of that night between the accident and us getting to the hospital is pretty spotty.

It wasn’t until we were watching the ambulance leave with Butchy that she told me, with hot tears running streaks down her face, that her memories had returned in full. I didn’t know what to tell her.

I had stayed with Mick in the waiting room. Lela had come in to wait with us after a while as she couldn’t drive herself with all those tears and, one by one, everyone else joined us in the waiting room, even the beach bum surfers. Lela had looked numb, almost unfeeling, but who was I to judge her? I was in the same state. Lela had sat on my right side as I’d had Mick on my left, curling herself into a ball on the chair and resting her head on my shoulder. She had already lost her mom and her dad was in jail, who would take care of her if Butchy... if he died.

The thought of that being a possibility had made my head spin. I had been the cause of all of this. I had seen Mick stumbling down the beach and called out to her, she lost her balance and fell, hitting her head hard enough to lose her memories. If I hadn’t tried getting her attention that night, she never would’ve lost her memories, Butchy and I wouldn’t have argued, she never would’ve told him to race, and he wouldn’t be in the condition he was in. It all came back to me. If he were to die, it would be because of me.

I couldn’t handle even the thought of that.

Ever since coming here, I’d known Butchy. He had always been the one I looked up to. He was a great big brother to Lela, a good friend to everyone he came in contact with, and the best kind of person to be around. He taught me how to ride motorcycles and was very patient with me while I adjusted to living in St. Pete. He took me into his home and treated me like a brother. He cared deeply for everyone that came into his life, regardless of who or what they were. He was everything I aspired to be in life... He couldn’t die. Not now and certainly not like this.

We were able to see him after his surgery. Lela was the only one allowed in at first as she was his next of kin. Lela was ready to fight the hospital staff after they told us that Mick didn’t count as “next-of-kin” since they weren’t married yet, but she kept herself in check better than I anticipated. She insisted that the rest of us had to be allowed in as we were family too, but the hospital staff claimed there was a three person limit for cases like Butchy’s, so she took both Mick and myself in. It was better than waiting in the waiting room for answers.

Lela had learned to keep her emotions in check for things like this, something I think we both had gotten from Butchy over the years. For all the time I’d known her, Mick had never been that kind of person. She always kept her emotions on display for everyone to see; a voice in the back of my head laughed faintly, maybe that was the reason Mick was so bad at poker.

Mick and Lela had sat next to him, holding his hands and staring at him in the faint hope that he’d open his eyes and talk to them as though nothing had happened. The kicked puppy look they both wore was almost too much for me. Both of them were my little sisters, I had pretty much adopted them into my family as they had with me. I hated seeing them like that. I hated being in the hospital too, but at the same time, I knew I couldn’t leave.

I had to be there.

After a while, the hospital tried to kick us out with the excuse that Butchy was stable and visiting hours were going to be over in ten minutes. Mick and Lela said their goodnights to Butchy before helping each other out of the room. I stayed behind, waiting until they had left the room before taking up the spot next to Butchy’s bed. He didn’t look like himself. He looked trapped under all of the wires, cords, and tubes that were working on keeping him alive.

I took a look at him - the first good sight of him I’d had since the accident - and almost wished I hadn’t. His face was only mildly scraped as his helmet had prevented his face from hitting the ground, but a line of stitches marked from his jaw to his left cheekbone. His shoulder looked almost dented in from where he’d hit the tree after being thrown from his bike, but with all of the bandages I couldn’t be sure if it was as bad as I thought it was. His leg was in a cast and a childlike part of me wanted desperately to sign it as nobody else had yet, but I held back in favor of sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. He looked broken, something I never wanted to see.

After sitting for a moment and just watching him, I took up his hand the way Lela and Mick had, but all it did was make me feel worse. The last time we’d interacted, I’d told him off for ignoring Mick. Is that how he’d remember me? I hoped not. He was like the older brother I always wished I’d had; I wanted nothing more than to make him proud. To see him lying there, motionless and dead to the world, made my chest tighten.

I sat there for a few minutes, glancing back and forth between Butchy and the monitors that showed his vitals. It was never this quiet with Butchy around. I didn’t like it one bit. I don’t remember what exactly I said to him, but I know I started talking until my throat hurt, apologizing for what I said before, even though I knew, deep down, that he’d already forgiven me. He always did. Even when I ran over his foot the first time I rode a motorcycle or when I got into a fight and he had to drag me back home and clean me up or even the time when I stole his bike in the middle of the night to try bringing my brothers to live with us and ended up totaling it. He always forgave and forgot, it was just the way he lived.

“Butch,” I began quietly, my throat still ached after rambling on and on to his motionless body. “Please don’t go. You can’t leave us yet, man, you still have so much to live for.”

I received no response from Butchy. What exactly did I expect?

“I’m sorry for what I said,” I continued. I could feel my throat getting tighter as I went, but I didn’t care. “You know I’ll never forgive myself even if you do. I know this whole thing never would’ve happened if I’d kept my mouth shut.”

I tightened my hold on his hand, shifting my grasp so it was like when we used to arm wrestle. “Fight this, big guy. I’ll do whatever it takes to help Lela and Mickie through this, but I think you and I both know that I’m not going to be in the best mindset either.”

Slowly, but surely, I pushed myself off the edge of the bed and set his hand down on the hospital mattress, still holding on, just in case. In case of what, I wasn’t sure, but I knew I didn’t want to let go just yet. The nurse popped her head in briefly, telling me I had five minutes left before I would have to leave. I just nodded at her and turned back to Butchy.

“I have to go, Butch.” I cleared my throat, feeling a sting of pain as I did. “I’ll take care of the girls, okay? Just like you do. Please come back to us, we all need you. The Rodents, Lela, Mick, and, heck, even the surfers, they all need you to come back. I need you to come back. You still have so much to teach me, so you can’t leave us just yet, alright?”

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I couldn’t ignore the burning in my eyes and the tears falling from them any longer. “Gosh, I sound like a baby, don’t I?” I sighed with a chuckle. I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe my face before returning my gaze to Butchy. I nearly jumped back as my eyes met his. “Butch?” I asked quietly.

He blinked in return. “You hear me?” Another blink. He managed a small smirk under the oxygen mask, so I smiled in return. “Don’t do that to me, man! Any more surprises like that and I’ll end up in the hospital bed next to you!”

Butchy lightly squeezed my hand, but it was enough for me. The laugh I let out was watery and I could feel the pressure in my throat return as more tears fell, but I couldn’t care less. Nobody else was here to see me, after all. All that mattered was that he was there and he didn’t seem like he was giving up on us any time soon.

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He seemed to be doing better, the first couple of days. We’d all been taking turns doing watch duty, keeping an eye on Butchy all hours of the day, to the point where the hospital staff didn’t even try to kick us out at night. I guess you could say we were persistent, but I think one or two of the guys threatened the staff with whatever knives or other weapons they had on them. I had taken up the evening shifts so that Lela and Mick wouldn’t try to, but it was a battle I knew I’d lose eventually.

Two days after the accident - the third day of Butchy being in the hospital - Mick had to go back to her home as, if she didn’t she would’ve gotten stuck here permanently. I almost regret telling her to take a day to sleep. She hadn’t gotten any sleep at all the day after the accident - neither had I, to be frank, but I knew she needed it more than I did. Maybe it would’ve been better if she had stayed. Maybe Butchy would’ve been better if she’d stayed. I think Butchy would’ve preferred her company over mine - she was his fiancée after all - but when I brought took out the book I’d been reading and read it aloud to him, he seemed to enjoy having me there.

Mick hadn’t returned by lunchtime on the fourth day. I assumed her delay was due to her parents, but she later told me that she had passed out after arriving at her home that evening and hadn’t woken up until late afternoon on the fourth day. The fourth day was the most memorable to me. I was on watch duty that day as most of the crew was either in school or at work, but it was my day off. I told everyone that I’d be there all day and still do my night shift, so I knew nobody would be coming apart from maybe Lela after school got out.

I had, once again, brought my book from home that day, an old copy of Gone With the Wind that I’d gotten when I first got to town, deciding that I would read it to Butchy yet again. The doctors said that my talking to him and reading to him would help with his mental state, so I continued with it every day. Butchy always seemed more interested in the book the more I read, but we were usually interrupted when the nurses came in to change the dressings on his shoulder and back. That day, however, they told me to keep going to distract Butchy from any pain he might’ve been in, but with whatever pain medications they had put him on before coming in to change his dressings, he looked higher than a kite.

“’The suspicions which tore at him were too terrible to be put into words,’” I started reading. Butchy closed his eyes tightly as the nurses prodded at him.

That reading of Gone With the Wind only lasted for a minute while they worked on cleaning Butchy up before one of them said it looked like the wounds were infected. I stopped reading and asked what they meant by that and all they would tell me was that it wasn’t good. My eyes just had to roll at that because, even though I was definitely not a medical professional, even I could tell that an infection of any kind wasn’t good. They had told me to continue reading while they retrieved a doctor, so I went back to Butchy’s side and continued with the reading.

Not long after, I got to one sentence that made me stop altogether. It was exactly how I felt about the whole situation we were in right now. I had caused this whole thing, after all. If I hadn’t spoken out to Mick that night, she wouldn’t have lost her memory, she never would’ve told Butchy to race Xander and, in turn, the race never would’ve happened. Butchy would never have ended up here if I’d kept my mouth shut. I was snapped from my thoughts as Butchy made a small noise. I looked to him, catching his eyes almost instinctively. He was staring at me and I could see the concern in his eyes. I guess I’d been quiet for too long.

I cleared my throat and continued reading, “"I have caused all this," he thought despairingly. "I have driven her to this."”

Before I even got to finish that chapter - I only had two paragraphs left - they had come back into the room and wheeled him away to be poked and prodded by more doctors.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to do after that. I tucked a bookmark into the book, determined not to get any further than where I had read to Butchy. I wasn’t going to leave the hospital, I wasn’t hungry at all, so the cafeteria was out of the question as well, and I wasn’t in the mood to sit in the window and watch people drive by. Deciding to let Lela know what was going on, I pulled a quarter from my pocket and tucked the book into the closet where Butchy’s belongings were for safe keeping. I went down to the payphone by the bathroom that I walked by every day and called Lela’s school, asking that they get ahold of her so that she would know what was going on. She told me she would be over after school and I let her know that I’d call again if anything happened.

I returned to Butchy’s hospital room, pulling the book from the closet and perching myself on the windowsill. I waited for an hour before anybody came in the room to talk with me. It was Butchy’s uncle and primary doctor, Antonio; I’d met him quite a few times while living with Butchy and Lela and, over time, he became like family to me just as much as he was to Butchy and Lela. There was a chance that, if the infection spread, it could affect Butchy’s spine and possibly paralyze him. Antonio told me that they had given Butchy a dose of antibiotics and had gotten what they could out of the infection already, so the risk was low, but it was still there nonetheless.

Butchy had always been a strong son-of-a-gun. He’d probably never agree with me on that, but that was fine by me. He was like those gentlemen in the book we were reading; courageous, courteous, and overall gallant.

After a while, Butchy was wheeled back into the room on the same bed he had left on and I went back to the chair I’d sat in before they took him away. Upon meeting his gaze, I took note of the fact that he still looked doped out on whatever they’d put him on, but not nearly as much as he had been. There was a small sense of understanding mixed with pain in his eyes and, although I was upset he was hurting, I was glad he at least knew what was going on around him. After everyone else left the room, I stood so I could meet Butchy’s eyes once again.

“Hey there, brother,” I said with a small smile. “You okay?” Butchy blinked at me a few times before moving his head side-to-side slowly. That was new. “Did you hear them talking about what’s wrong?” One blink, yes. “Is that what’s bothering you?” Two blinks, no. “Are you hurting?” One blink. “Is that it?” Two blinks. “Worrying about Mickie again, are you?” One blink, of course it was.

“I told you already, big guy, she’s home with her parents.” I sighed and sat next to his bandaged arm. “She probably slept in, knowing her. Poor girl barely got any sleep at all after the accident and, when she did, it was mostly nightmares.”

Mick had tried staying with me during the overnight visits I’d done. She’d forced herself to stay awake as much as possible, but ended up sleeping on the windowsill with one of the hospital blankets and my leather jacket on her. She ended up waking up after nearly an hour with silent tears streaming down her face. After calming her down, I had made her sit in my chair instead, letting her hold Butchy’s hand while I read Gone With the Wind to both her and Butchy. Both of them fell asleep not long after, leaving me awake with nobody to talk to. It was nice to see them so relaxed around each other, but Mick was absolutely exhausted the next day. That was the day I insisted she go and rest at her family’s home.

“Mickie is strong, Butch. I don’t think we need to worry about her at all,” I claimed, pushing my hair out of my face. “I’m sure that, when she gets back, she’ll tell us all about her time with her family.”

Butchy relaxed into the mattress, giving me a small, slow nod. I gave his hand a light pat before moving into the chair I’d been sitting in. He slowly shifted his head to see where I was, giving me a smile. I adjusted myself until I was sitting crisscross on the chair, holding up the book so Butchy could see. “Want me to keep going?”

A nod and a smile.

I opened the book to the page we’d left off on, watching as Butchy closed his eyes to listen. He always did that, it seemed. He preferred to listen and use his mind to picture what was happening in the story. I didn’t mind. I preferred it when nobody watched me read, so it all worked out in the end. I started reading the last two paragraphs of the chapter we were on as that was where we had left off before he had been taken away by nurses. As I began reading, I realized that it touched on just how I was thinking earlier. Thinking about Butchy and how strong and brave he really was.

“But, for four years,” I began, “he had seen others who had refused to recognize defeat, men who rode gaily into sure disaster because they were gallant.”

#ForeverAlwaysPrompts #writing #writing prompt

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 4 years ago

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matchup time (:

hell ye >:3c so i’m a female scorpio, sexually-speaking i consider myself demisexual with a heavy preference for men (despite the anxiety i get from being around them). my hobbies include reading, a lot of creative mediums (writing, drawing, sculpting, cosplaying, moreso in the realm of making characters and worlds and whatnot, i also have an original canon that i’ve been working on for 9-10 years now), biking, psychology, video games (mainly visual novels and rpgs), world mythology, music, and playing trombone! personality-wise i’m a bit complicated due to trauma (i’m working on it tho) but i’m very much an ambivert! so sometimes i may be outgoing and talkative, other times i only want to have deep conversations with lots of personal substance and then go to sleep right after. i’ve been told that i’m somebody who’s pretty aware of themselves or at the very least understanding of my own inner machinations, the awareness of which i’ve spent a lot of time cultivating to help manage my adhd and anxiety/depression. other words people have used to describe me are artistic, eccentric, vivacious, mischievous/playful, empathetic, wild, stubborn, sensitive, aggressive/dominant, impatient, fiery, i think you get the gist. i also have a little shih tzu puppy named xander (as in alexander the great bc we’re greek) who i love very very much.

for the character, choose characters from fe: awakening/fates/3H but if you think ike might be a good fit too, feel free to add him in there. wink wink. and maybe one of the boys from p5 ghfjdlsla

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Fates: Hmm Fates was honestly the game I was having the hardest time choosing someone from… but I honestly think Kaze is the best match for you!

As far as men go, Kaze is far more comforting to be around than anyone else. I can’t say for certain if that will be the case for you… but know he would do whatever you needed to feel comfortable around him! He’s all about seeing you happy, healthy, and safe (he’ll often put your feelings above his (make sure to check in on him from time to time; he’ll really appreciate it). He’s also probably one of the most supportive partner of your creative arts that you can find; he’s the type to take your drawings and show them off to others or sit down with you and let you explain, as in depth or not as you please, about your world; it fascinates him endlessly how full of creativity you are! He’s amazed every time he learns something new about you and is always excited to take the time to learn more.

As for Trauma, Kaze understands; he has a lot of his own baggage he needs to face it and as he sees it, these things are better done together. So don’t worry about sharing your burdens with him, Kaze will gladly help you shoulder your emotional burdens, so long as you’ll let him do the same. While he’s an introvert himself, Kaze is perfectly willing to deal with you as you come. He’s fond of how playful you are (plenty of people have told him to loosen up and well… you make it easy).

Kaze met you while trying to escape the girls that tend to fawn over him when he goes into towns. How it happened, neither of you were sure but you quite literally bumped into one another and tripped! Lucky for you, Kaze caught you! Of course, Kaze immediately felt bad and wanted to make it up to you and it just went on from there!

Awakening: Inigo was actually the first person I thought of when I read your description, the trouble was deciding to use him for fates/awakening hehe

Anyways, it’s easy to picture how to two of you met; Inigo can’t help himself when he sees a cute girl but seeing how you freeze up and stutter in reply Inigo is like, whoa, hey, are you good? And in return finds himself shying up and getting awkward too. Just like you get anxious around men, he gets shy around girls; once the two of you learn how to function around one another he’s happy to give you advice on how he deals with his anxiety.

Inigo is endlessly supportive in your creative endeavors! He may be a talented dancer but in his eyes that hardly holds a candle to the worlds you can create with your wondrous words, or the art you can make seemingly out of nothing. It’s amazing to him and he’s more than happy to indulge you in it; make sure to compliment him as well, not only so you can see that adorable blush of his but also so he knows you support him as much as he does you!

Honestly, Inigo loves how playful and mischievous you can be; it reminds him to to be so embarrassed and shy when he’s with you, or even without you. Your smile, how you get so fired up yet are still so kind and empathetic… Everything about you and your personality help calms him down and face whatever it is he’s facing. He can only hope the smile he’s always ready to give (special for you, nowadays) can help you in the same way.

3 Houses: If I’m honest, I’m still not completely sure on this (if only because it feels like my own bias is shining through) but I feel like Lorenz would be a good match for you! Just hear me out please!

Obviously this would be post time skip (as most of my dealings with 3h will be). But out of most of the cast in 3 houses I feel like after time skip Lorenz becomes one of the more understanding, respectful and patient men! If you’re scared or anxious around him he’s first going to try to figure out what he can do to lessen that and if that means he has to leave your company, so be it but he’ll leave with a “if you even need to talk about it, I’ll be willing to listen”.

He’s a huge supporter of the creative arts (though, unfortunately he’s not very creative himself, more blessed in leading, tactics and such things). Still, as every noble should have, he has a great appreciation of the arts! He finds it incredibly charming how you can just make a world and continue to work with it and change it as you grown and change yourself and is your biggest supporter when it comes to art! He’s more than ready to commission you to do work for him and display it where everyone can see, proudly explaining what it is, just who did and who you are to him.

He’s always to sit down with a piping cup of tea and spend the afternoon chatting away with you about whatever comes to mind. The inner workings of your mind, of the person he admires and adores so much who can be so controversial at times (fiery but shy, anxious but wild). Everything about you only adds up to make him love you more than he did the moment before!

Ike: I really honestly think you and Ike would end up being really good together! The two of you are actually quite similar in some aspects while your differences really balance one another out.

You’re a lot more on the creative side than Ike, it’s true. He may not be the best to talk to when it comes to your more creative endeavors since he’ll mostly remain quiet due to lack of knowledge but know what makes you happy makes him happy. He’ll gladly be your quiet company while you create worlds and masterpieces, so long as you humor him with his likes. Which, isn’t hard really; Ike just wants someone he can be himself with and let his worries out to.

He really admires how playful and free you seem. Ike’s always willing to grow closer with his allies but sometimes isn’t always sure how he. It’s not that he’s shy he just becomes awkward quickly in a situation he doesn’t know where to begin in. But with you, it’s always seemed easy. Once you’ve overcome your anxiety it’s always fun to talk with you because its always different.

You grew to be a trusted confident, right under his nose. It was different that with Soren, Mist, or even Titiana. When he’s with you, not only do his worries flow freely but he wants to hear yours in return and even try to soothe them. Its confusing, no doubt, because Ike has never really felt this way before. He has the weight of the world on him and yet he still wants to help shoulder your burdens as well. He’s thankful for you help both inside and outside of battle but his need to protect you is distracting. So of course, he’ll go to you with his worries, as always; in the end, it’s up to you to tell him that he’s in love with you. It’ll take him a moment but then it will all click in place for him.

“Oh,” He paused, blinking slowly as if taking the long moment to really process it all. “I… guess I am.” He smiled, softly at you now. “I love you.” He laughed as the words left his lips, gaze settling on your face. “So I guess now… the question is, do you feel the same way?

#submission #commission #match up #three houses #fates #awakening #path of radiance #rd #feh #fire emblem

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chocoholicannanymous · 5 years ago

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Leap of Faith (BtVS)

Disclaimer: I own neither vampires nor Slayers, and the boy in my bed is most definitely not Spike. (I haven't read the comics, so anything revealed in them regarding Faith's family is ignored.)

The file for this was created March 2nd, 2014. The fact that it’s finally ready for posting... Yeah, it feels a bit unreal.

I owe my gratitude to @pterawaters and @wolfish-willow for giving this a read-through and me their opinions.

Leap of Faith

To say that inmate Faith Lehane – formerly known as Faith the Vampire Slayer – didn’t get a lot of visitors was an understatement. Angel showed up now and again, mostly when he felt especially redemptive, but that hadn’t happened in a while now. He was the only one – she didn’t exactly have a lot of friends. Family, well, she had even less of that, and what little she had? She wasn’t even a blip on their radar. However, she did have enemies, more than she could be bothered to count.

So when she was informed of a visitor that wasn’t Angel she didn’t know what to think. That the man in question had identified himself as Alexander Lehane, and claimed to be a distant cousin… Yeah, right. Her mom had been an only child, and her dad? Well, not only had he never been in the picture, he’d also not been the one to pass on that ‘Lehane’. So the chances of this guy really being a relative were slim, yet she wasn’t ready to completely rule it out. Even if it was a lot more likely that he was an assassin, or someone who simply wanted to gloat. Whatever, or whoever, he was, Faith was ready.

Turned out she wasn’t. The man on the other side of the window was named Alexander all right, only his last name wasn’t Lehane but Harris, as in Xander Harris – not-quite-card-carrying member of the Scoobies and friends with the other Slayer. That fact didn’t make her rule out the possibility of an assassination, nor that of gloating. They had been on less than good terms the last few times they’d met – mostly because of her. Still, maybe she’d get a chance of apologizing now. Xander had believed in her, had thought she could return to the ‘light’ side, and she’d repaid him by trying to choke him. Yeah, she owed him an apology alright.

“Hello Faith. You’re looking surprisingly good. I take it redemption’s working for you?”

She did a double take at his words, and then she looked at him again, closer, and this time she really saw. This wasn’t Xander. At least not the Xander she’d ‘known’, in place of a better phrase. This guy looked older, wiser, more self-assured and mature. Like he’d come into his own and knew exactly who he was. Not a change she’d have thought possible in the short time since she’d last seen him. Also, he was an eye short. No, something didn’t add up here.

Faith stayed silent and scrutinized the man – because this ‘Xander’ was obviously no longer a boy in any sense of the word. He could be an impostor; someone quite cleverly disguised who’d just missed. Or he could be something else entirely. In the end, she leaned towards that explanation, even though it was the most unlikely one. It was still the one that seemed to fit the best.

“You’re not quite the Xander I knew, are you?”

That was as diplomatic as she could make it. For a while she thought she’d blown it, that either Xander really had grown up this much, or that he was a fake, an assassin and now she’d alerted him, made him panic. Only he just chuckled.

“You’re good. Sure, you had the outward clues, but still. None of us was really sure you’d believe me. Still might not, but hey, this is a good start.”

And that began his rather outlandish explanation. He was Xander, even the Xander she’d met in Sunnydale, only from the future. Part of her wanted to balk at this, to laugh and call him a liar, yet… She was a Slayer, one of the Chosen Two (even if she’d done a lousy job). She killed vamps and demons, or at least she had done so before coming here, so who was she to scoff at the idea of time travel?

Apparently Sunnydale was experiencing another one of those pesky apocalypses the town was prone to, only this one carried more than the usual threat. ‘In short: Buffy dies to save the world, badness ensues and a few years from now we’re pretty much fucked because of it. And I don’t mean ‘we’ as in the Scoobies, I mean it as in humanity and the world.’

Unnecessary apocalypses, the Slayer-line being threatened, the world finding out about Slayers – and chauvinists and war-mongers all over freaking as a result… Not good.

Xander and a bunch of others – he carefully avoided mentioning names; was that so she wouldn't know who else died? – had tried just about everything. Now they were down to this: they wanted to try and change the events by bringing Faith into the equation.

At that she did laugh. She, save the world? She’d practically helped the people who wanted to end it before going to jail. And now, just because she was trying to make up at least a little bit for her crimes, they thought she could do the opposite? It was hilarious. Only, not so much apparently, ‘cause Xander sure as Hell wasn’t laughing. He looked dead serious.

“Look, Faith, I know it’s a lot to take in and I sure don’t blame you for doubting me. I wish I could give you the time to think about it, but we’re kinda running out of that. We need you, and we need you now. So, are you in or out?”

Faith thought about it. This was it. She knew getting out of jail would be as easy as getting in, at least for her. The walls surrounding her only held her because she let them. So that part wasn’t even up for debate. She could get out. The question was whether or not she should. She’d turned herself in because she’d become too dangerous. Did she trust herself enough to walk freely now? Did she want to help? If not, then B would die. Did that bother her? After all, they were talking about the girl who’d stabbed her in the gut and placed her in a hospital. The girl whose life she’d tried to steal. Did she care enough about B to try and stop her from dying?

And then it hit her. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about B, wasn’t about her or Xander or anyone else she’d ever met. It was about the world. About being a Slayer in the truest form; to stand against the darkness. And when put like that, fuck, then she didn’t have a choice. This was something she had to do.

“Step away from the glass.” She kept her voice low, without emotion, and didn’t dare to give more warning than that.

Xander got the picture though, and moved quickly but yet without raising suspicion, and in the right direction. She had just enough time to notice he’d placed himself perfectly for what she had in mind, just as if he knew what it was. Then again, coming from the future, maybe he did. And then she broke the glass.

As she rushed towards the window, grabbing Xander on the way, Faith once more touched on the possibility that he’d known what she would do. He was perfectly placed. She twisted as they fell, making sure she’d take most of the hit – not because of sentimentality or wishes for redemption, or anything like that, but simply because it was the logical thing to do. Her Slayer constitution could handle the crash better than Xander’s strictly human one, her Slayer healing dealing with the rest. And well, Xander was the one who knew where the get-away car was (at least she hoped so) and who (again she hoped so) had a plan for getting out of LA without trouble.

Those were the only reasons that mattered. A small whisper that she didn’t want the one person who seemed to believe in her at the moment hurt… Well, that wasn’t logical. And thinking like that never seemed to get her anywhere.

Forty-five minutes, two cars and a change of clothes later Xander and Faith were safely on the highway to Sunnydale. Maybe now, Faith thought, there would be time for a longer explanation.

Xander didn't volunteer one though, choosing instead to drive in silence. Maybe it was reckless, but she was going to let him. For a while at least. She would enjoy that there were no walls around her, that she could feel the wind and smell the sun, and not hear much of anything. Things would get heavy soon enough any way.

“So.”

They were about halfway to Sunnydale, with no signs of being pursued, by the time Xander parked at a rest stop and pulled out a cooler. Once they both had food Xander looked her straight in the eyes, raised an eyebrow and gave her a crooked smile.

“What do you want to know?”

Faith took her time, thought about where to start, while chewing on a piece of sandwich and relishing in the simple luxury of eating something other than prison food.

“This apocalypse? What makes it so special? I mean, you guys have handled what? At least one or two a year for five years now, so what makes this one different from those? What do I need to know?”

Xander took a deep breath, the lines in his face hardening. Obviously this was a painful subject for him.

“First of all, normally? Buffy’s been the one to keep us together. This time she didn’t have that strength, and we were too stupid to lend it to her. Joyce dying hit us all hard, seeing as she acted a bit like a mother to us all, and since we were all grieving none of us actually stopped to think about how much worse it had to be for Buffy. Joyce wasn’t just her mom, she was Buffy’s connection to the world, the one whose love made her strong.”

And yeah, Faith could see that. She'd envied Buffy just about everything, from going to school to having a nice house, from Giles to the Scoobies, but most of all she'd envied her Joyce. Maybe Faith was nothing but trash, never to amount to anything – as she'd been told over and over again. Or maybe having a mom like Joyce would have changed everything.

She'd woken up in the middle of the night, her face wet from tears, after Angel had let it slip that Joyce had passed away.

“Second... Everything else we’ve come up against, it’s been ‘normal’ supernatural. Vamps, demons, magic... This time, however, well. Glory’s abnormal even by Sunnydale standards. She’s an actual Hell god, and if that wasn’t bad enough she’s evil enough that the Hell gods she shared her dimension with banished her,” this made Faith’s eyes widen, “oh, and also she’s crazy. Part of it is because they bound her here, inside a human. The magic used protect them both though, so the first time around we couldn’t ID the body acting as Glory’s prison. Turned out to be someone we sort of trusted. Not much, but enough for us to let our guard down. Ironically, the guy actually tried asking Buffy out.”

Faith shook her head. B really had no luck when it came to guys.

“So. Most of the time Glory was, well, wasn’t actually, and when she came out... She’s not your regular Big Bad, Faith. She’s a God. Buffy’s strong, but Glory? Glory swatted Buffy like Buffy does a fly.”

Now, that was scary. Some chick making Slayer strength seem like nothing?

“Damn.”

“Oh yes. Which, by the way, is pretty much what we’ll all be if she gets her way. Which just so happens to be a way back to Hell. Now, normally I wouldn't give a fuck – as far as I'm concerned she's their problem and they can have her back. Except it's not that easy.”

Of course it's not. Even if Faith isn't so sure she'd use the word easy when talking about opening a doorway to Hell.

“Thing is, the portal she opened went both ways, and the dimensions bled into each other. We're talking about actual Hell on earth here. Which as one of the people living here I'm going to say I'm definitely against. What I'm also against is how she opened that portal. See, when they kicked her out the other Hell gods locked up their dimension and threw away the key. Sort of. There were these monks, and some magic stuff, and hey presto! The Key's no longer a mystical ball of energy. Nope. Instead it's a human.”

Faith really really didn't like the sound of that.

“Which brings us to our final problem. The Key's human form is Dawn. And the portal is opened by her blood. Do I really have to explain how well Buffy takes that possibility?”

No. He didn't. He really didn't. What he did have to do was stop the car so Faith could get out and pulverize a couple of trees instead of the car.

They ended up speeding a little to make up the lost time after, but even with the risk of being stopped by cops it was the better option. The stop had been necessary. Faith would survive the car wrecking because of her temper, but Xander might not. Also, they'd definitely never make it anywhere near on schedule (not that Faith knew what that looked like, she just recognized its existence) without a car.

Once they'd made up for their unscheduled break Xander slowed down to just under the speed limit and soon started talking again.

“Anyway, since we're all about the uncomfortable-ness right now, there's something I'd like to take up. Clear the air, maybe?

“This took me a while to figure out, but well, I had the time. Part of why everything happened the way it did back then, in Sunnydale with us and you and... everything.”

The Mayor, Faith’s inner voice supplied. She didn’t say it out loud though, and was grateful that Xander hadn’t either.

“It had just as much to do with us as it did with you. You might have noticed,” and the irony was obvious, “that we tended to compare you with Buffy pretty much all the time.”

Faith nodded. How could she not have noticed?

“But, and here’s the real irony of it all, we also kinda never wanted you to be like her.”

“Huh?”

“See... Willow saw Buffy as her best friend, the first girl to really be her friend. If you and Buffy were the same, that would have made you even more competition than you already were.

“To Giles Buffy wasn’t just his Slayer, she was the daughter of his heart. He didn’t want her to have to share that space with you, and if you’d been exactly like her... You get the picture, right?

“And then there was me. I thought Buffy was the ultimate woman – pretty, treating me like I mattered, and a superhero to boot. I compared everyone else to her. Then you came along, just as attractive and captivating – and totally different. And if you’d been another Buffy... Let’s just say I didn’t care for the idea of another superhottie seeing me as practically neutered. Buffy did that, without thinking about it, saw me as one of the girls – more or less – and it hurt. You on the other hand... Sure, you never cared about me they way I would have liked, but at least you noticed I was a guy.

“No matter what you saw that night as... It meant something to me. It taught me things. I really needed that. I would never have been strong enough to be the man behind you – I would have grown to resent your strength, and the fact that you’d always be the one saving me. But you’re still a good memory in there, Faith, a really good memory.”

Faith blushed, something she hadn’t done in forever. She’d fucked Xander to scratch an itch, had mocked him for thinking she gave a damn, had even tried to strangle him. And he still saw something good in her? Was he blind, or did he see deeper than anyone else?

She just sat there in silence.

Xander gave her that, just kept driving and gave her time, before finally breaking the quiet with a sigh.

“Look, Faith, I’m sorry to dump all of this on you, but we don’t have much time. At least I don't think we do. We were aiming to get me here in time to stop the Hellbitch early, but I have no idea if we succeeded. If we did, then great, but if we didn’t... Thing is, I’m having a bad feeling about our timing.”

His face said it all. If whoever “we” were had missed their aim, time-wise, then they might not be able to stop the events that made B die the first time.

“Okay. So what are we doing? What are you looking for?”

“A crashed RV – or well, preferably a not crashed one – full of Scoobies. See, we were going nowhere and Glory was picking us off one by one. Buffy couldn’t risk it any longer, couldn’t risk Dawn, so we got the hell out of Dodge in this joke of an RV. We figured Glory wouldn’t think to look for us like that. Only, we didn’t take into consideration that there were others after us as well.

“There was a bunch of crazy knights as well. No, really. We’re talking armor, swords, horses... The whole kit. Some sort of fucked-up order whose sole purpose was to make sure Glory never managed to open the gates to hell. Which, by the way, I agree with. I just don’t agree with how they went about things. See, they never tried to find a way to stop Glory. No. They concentrated all their efforts on finding the Key, and then on destroying it. They didn’t even change their minds when they found out the Key had been transferred into human form. Their general actually told Buffy to her face that it was their duty to kill her, kill Dawn.”

“And I can imagine how well B took that.”

Xander’s face turned grim again.

“She was about five seconds from crossing the ‘Don’t kill humans’ line.”

That hit home like nothing else. Buffy about to kill a human being?

“Fuck.”

“You’ve got that right. She hadn’t gotten the time and space to grieve for Joyce yet, Dawn’s life was on the line, Giles was badly wounded and the end of the world was just around the corner. Buffy was reaching her limit, fast. And then she made a mistake. A big one. She couldn’t have known, but still... Being Buffy of course she blamed herself. We talked the knights into allowing a medic – only the guy Buffy called turned out to be Glory’s little hiding place.

“The Hellbitch got away with Dawn and Buffy snapped. Maybe if she hadn’t things would have turned out differently. Maybe.

“Anyway. If this mojo worked properly we’ll find the RV before the knights do. In that case your job is to get Dawn in the car and away, no matter what. I mean it. If you have to run someone down to leave, do it.”

Faith felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She wanted to protest – she was reforming, killing another person was not on her to-do list. One look at Xander’s face kept her quiet. He meant it.

“I’m serious, Faith. Nothing is more important than getting Dawn to safety. I’ll take Buffy – but leave us if you have to. Just get Dawn somewhere safe for the next couple of days – there’s an envelope with instructions and such in the glove compartment – and then bring her back.”

“You’re staying?” That she had not expected. Wasn’t it like a big rule of time travel not to expose yourself?

“Yeah, best case scenario.” Oh. Obviously she asked that out loud.

“Only, if we can stop this now then that’s more important than anything else. That’s our main priority.”

She believed him. It was written all over his face, in hard lines and dark shadows; in the tense way he held his body and the grim tone of his voice. No sacrifice was too big if it led to stopping this now. He’d give his life, and hers, without a seconds doubt to prevent his future from happening. Faith realized she would let him.

When they spotted the broken-down RV Xander swore, loudly and well.

When they reached the place the Scoobies had used as a hide-out only to find it empty (except for the bodies) he was quiet instead, hardened into stone. The Xander she’d known had always been prepared to back Buffy up, no matter what, with his greatest value being that he always gave his everything and never gave up. This Xander was a force to be reckoned with, a warrior in his own right.

“Now what? You have some kinda plan?”

“Yeah. Not anything ultimate, but... We’re heading for Sunnydale, and splitting up. I have a demon to try and take out, see if that changes anything, and... I’m sorry, Faith, but if you fail, then I need to be hidden in reserve. There’s a Plan B. Don’t make me have to resort to that.”

Faith didn’t want to know what Plan B was. Something about Xander’s statement told her that it was only fractionally better than hell on earth – but that those fractions were enough. It sent shivers down her spine.

“And what am I doing?”

“Go to the Magic Box – Giles owns it now, and they will all be there. Talk Buffy into letting you help. It’ll be hard, I know, but you have to make her trust you enough for that. You need to get her alone, and...”

She focused hard as Xander told her when and where to find B alone, what arguments could be used to sway her and, surprisingly, what to tell Giles.

“He might do it anyway, he did back then, but we’re changing things. But there’s one thing we can’t change: Glory. If we stop her now she won’t just give up. She wants to go home and won’t care if her deadline’s passed. Hell, I can see her find a way out just to go for revenge.

“Buffy doesn’t want to admit this, because then she’ll have to admit that the only way to put a permanent stop to Glory is to kill the host-body. And seeing as he’s not only human but also someone she knows... It’s one thing to get so angry you almost cross the line, but to actually do it? Premeditated, in cold blood? She’s not capable of it. Giles, however, is.”

This startled Faith. Giles? No way!

“Yes way. Once upon a time, before he went all tweed, Giles lived a life of sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll... and magic. He and his friends actually called forth some kind of demon. For fun. He was known as ‘the Ripper’ then, and no matter what he says some part of that is still left inside him. And ‘Ripper’ will know that there’s only one way to do this.”

Faith twisted in her seat and stared at Xander.

“And I get the privilege of telling him? Look, Xan, I’m gonna help, I really am, but this is starting to sound crazy. They hate me. They should hate me, all things considered. How the hell am I gonna talk any of them into this? Even if I manage to get B to agree, well, she’s not exactly known for standing up to Giles and her friends.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. But this time she will. We’re talking Dawn’s life here. She will turn her back on each and everyone of them – us – in order to save Dawn. She never forgot the pain of having to send Angel to hell. At this point of time we sort of knew that, but not really, you know? We sure as hell didn't understand how deep that still ran. If we had... It might have changed everything.

“Losing Dawn would make that pain seem like nothing, and even if no one else realizes it right now, Buffy knows it'll break her. Right now the only one with the guts to back her is Spike. She’ll accept your help – she has no alternative. She needs you now, Faith, like you can’t even imagine. She needs both her sisters.”

Faith sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking about Xander’s words. B needing her sisters, meaning her and Dawn. That felt so good, so right – but also not. The three of them – Buffy, Dawn and Faith – belonged together, she knew it, but... She shook her head. Time for that later. For now she needed to focus on the upcoming battle, on being a Slayer. Hopefully there would be time for being a sister after.

“So B’s teaming up with another vamp? Huh. Bet that’s making Giles real pissed off. I’m guessing adding me to the mix will make things even better. Sweet.”

The words lacked their usual enthusiasm though.

Hiding in the alley behind the Magic Box felt weird. Staying in hiding as a vamp attacked a teenager felt plain wrong. She had to though, had to leave this to B. Xander had been clear on that, even if he hadn't said why. Didn't matter. Faith knew that some things just had to happen in a certain way, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem.

So she waited, waited for B to appear and for her to turn the fanged idiot into a pile of dust. And then, after she'd revealed herself, she waited for B to make up her mind about what to do with her.

“Faith. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” The hostility and suspicion was obvious in not only Buffy’s voice but also in the way she held herself, ready for an attack. That was actually painful. Understandable, sure, but still painful.

“Not really. Nowhere more important at least. Jail will be there tomorrow – unless the world ends tonight of course. I know about Dawn, and... Whoa!”

She took a few quick steps back to avoid the suddenly very dangerous blond.

“I’m here to help, B. Honestly. You might not think too highly of me, and I deserve that, but I actually like that kid. Always have. I’m not here to hurt her, I’m here to help you save her. Okay? Saving the world’s a bonus.”

“How do you know about Dawn? What do you know about Dawn?”

Faith didn’t make the mistake of thinking she was in the clear yet. Yeah, B might have backed down a bit, but she still held herself ready for battle. As a Slayer she had at least one stake on her, and as Faith well knew stakes killed humans just as well as vamps. Still, this was it. Do or die, so to speak.

“Kid sis got herself kidnapped by some crazy-ass Hellbitch who’s planning on opening the gates of Hell by using Dawn. And I’m guessing that by now Giles has started pushing for you to sacrifice her for some ‘greater good’, like with Angel. Calling her an ‘acceptable loss’ or some rubbish like that, saying she’s not human. Not real. I can kinda see where he’s coming from, being a Watcher and all that – but I don’t agree.

“Dawn’s not an acceptable loss, and I wanna help make sure she isn’t turned into one.

“As for how I know, well, I’ve been having these weird dreams. Like, you know, being on drugs. Except, I guess you wouldn’t know. Still. I’ve had them for a while, since, eh, the body-swap? At first I thought that was why, especially since they were really vague. Only, now I’m starting to think they might be Slayer Dreams – and I totally suck at them.”

Xander had suggested she use the Slayer Dream excuse, but since then something had clicked in Faith’s head? Those weird dreams? Yeah, they were real. And if they were Slayer-related, then it would explain a lot. Sure, she’d never had them before the coma – but that shouldn’t necessary mean anything. Maybe the coma had triggered something, awakened one part of her brain while the rest was “sleeping”? Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she and B had been in each others bodies – could the capacity for Slayer Dreams had been transferred then? Whatever the reason though, the dreams were there and if they had been Dreams, then she had both explanations and clues.

She saw Buffy shake her head, and tried to find another way to convince her counterpart. Turned out it wasn’t necessary.

“It’s been five years now; me and Willow and Xander and Giles saving the world. Five years, and they’ve stood beside me for everything – even Angel turning evil. And now, now when I’m more lost than ever, who do I have on my side? Faith, the Slayer gone bad, and Spike, Slayer of Slayers. Irony much?”

Faith had to agree. She and Spike had both tried to kill B. Now they were trying to keep her alive – and sane. Life had a way of messing with you.

“Yeah. So, are you okay with me being here? If not, then I’ll go my own way, but...”

Two teams, working towards the same goal, but not cooperating? That was a sure way to chaos. Buffy seemed to think something similar, and nodded.

“Then I’m guessing you should go in there and warn them.”

She got pretty much the welcome she expected – that she figured she deserved – but only Giles tried to force her to leave. A private talk in the back room took care of that.

It was obvious Giles didn’t want her there. It was just as obvious Giles didn’t like what she had to say – he really didn’t like the fact that she brought up his Ripper-days. He shut up about her leaving though.

It felt so strange. She'd always felt like the odd one out in Sunnydale. Instead of it being her and B against “the forces of evil” it had been Giles and the Scoobies who'd faced the apocalypse, sorry, apocalypses, with B. Faith had, simply put, been the new girl in more ways than one and damn, had it chafed.

Here she was, for her first Sunnydale apocalypse, finally standing side by side with B. Only instead of the Scoobies standing strong like they'd always done before they were split. Giles might have been the only one stupid enough, or brave enough, to suggest killing Dawn, but it was obvious that he wasn't the only one thinking about it.

The only ones wholeheartedly on B's side, on Dawn's side, were her and Spike. Yeah. How's that for irony?

The battle was going on all around them and all that mattered was that Dawn's at the top of the tower. Not alone, either. Faith was just about to try and fight her way through the minions guarding the base and the stairs when they suddenly were thrown away by an unseen force.

Faith was running before she'd even finished processing what'd happened, and yet Spike was ahead of her. Didn't matter how or why, all that was important was that one of them reached Dawn in time. If they both did, better.

Except neither of them saw the minion scrambling on the outside until it threw itself at Spike, causing them both to fall. Faith cursed silently, but didn't stop running. It was down to her now. That was okay. It was, after all, why she was there.

The guy Glory had put on the tower with Dawn was nothing to take down – literally, as one punch had him flying off the ledge. Knowing what she did, of how it'd gone the first time, Faith was pretty sure she knew what Xander'd been up to. And yet, as easy as the minion was to take out, she was still too late.

Dawn's hand was covered in blood, and even though it could, technically have been the minions, from her fighting him, Faith just knew they weren't lucky enough for that. B might have been, but not her. And, judging from the way things had been going, probably not Dawn either.

And then, as if on cue, the sky rippled. Not much, easy to miss, but there. Glory's portal was opening.

Hell was coming.

Her mind flicked back to Giles talking about the consequences of the ritual starting, trying to justify killing Dawn, and then to B's response. “The last thing she'll see is me protecting her.” Only B's not here, and fuck, if Faith wasn't a lousy substitute. Once again she felt like the lesser Slayer, the budget version, the almost-but-not-quite good enough one. It was supposed to be B here.

And that thought shook her out of her spiral. Yeah, it was supposed to be Buffy. Only that was why Faith was here, so B wouldn't. So the world wouldn't be saved from Glory just to get fucked up anyway.

The weight of it all rested heavily on Faith's shoulders. This was it. This was her time to step up and be the best that she could. She'd been Chosen for a reason, Chosen over hundreds of other potential Slayers, and this was when she had to prove that the universe hadn't fucked up in that.

She just didn't have a clue how.

Well. Step one had to be to send Dawn down, to the Scoobies and to Buffy. Whatever happened, B would keep little sis safe.

Wait.

There was something about that phrase, about calling Dawn “little sis” that made her... It was almost like a memory. She focused with everything in her, despite feeling like she was wasting precious moments, chased the tail of something until she reached a hazy memory, like the ones left by Slayer dreams. Her and B, making a bed in what she was almost sure was Dawn's bedroom, her own voice... “Little sis coming.”

Then, on the heels of that, an actual memory. B telling them that Dawn was more than her sister. That the monks had made Dawn from her. Then another, of Xander talking about Dawn searching for her second parent, and... and... and... And then, a book she'd read in prison.

And suddenly it all seemed so clear. Just as it must have for B. That explained why B had died, didn't it? Just as it explained why Faith had been needed.

It explained everything.

“Faith!”

Dawn's scream ripped her out of her thoughts, and the Slayer looked around. The ripple was back, and it'd brought friends. Lots of them. And was that a flying lizard? They were running out of time.

“Listen to me, okay? Get down, and find B. Or Spike. Find one of them, and stay safe. I'm going to fix this.”

“How? Faith? How do you fix this?” Dawn was panicking, and Faith wasn't good with that. You couldn't punch panic, as she'd learned. She had to try though, because as it looked Dawn would fall off and break her damned neck before she reached the ground, and wouldn't that just be peachy?

“Listen to me. This is what I do, okay. I know I've been shit at showing it, but I'm a Slayer, and this. Is. What. I. Do. Stand against the forces of evil and all that. You? You stay safe. That's your job, and it's just as important. U-uh, no protests. I need you to be on the ground and safe so I can focus on what I need to do here. B needs you to be safe because otherwise it'll break her. Alright? That's a good girl.

“Now go. As fast as you can, while still being safe.”

“Thank you, Faith.” Then the teenage girl ran down the stairs.

Faith on the other hand went in the opposite direction, walking slowly out on the ledge until she stood in the same spot Dawn had occupied earlier. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. After all, the world rested on her shoulders. So this was how B felt all the time.

So. Everything pointed to Dawn having two mummies, her being created from not one but two Slayers. That meant that Faith’s blood would also get the job done. All she had to do was jump.

Buffy would do it, easily – sacrifice her life to save the world and her little sister. That was just the Buffy Summers way of doing things. Faith didn’t know about the world. She still didn’t feel that connection, that responsibility. But for Dawn? She thought about the terrified teenage girl she'd sent running and felt the connection to her. This girl belonged to Faith; there was no other way to describe it. She knew, just like she sometimes just knew things about demons, vamps and Slaying. Screw the world, Faith thought, but her, her I’ll die for. And she guessed that might just be enough.

She took a minute to focus completely on her task. When she was done she embodied her name. Ironically, here at the end for the first time ever she was Faith.

She took another step closer to the edge, and then took her leap.

Falling free felt like being loved.

~ The End ~

End note: The book Faith is thinking about is “Blue Genes” by Val McDermid, from her Kate Brannigan series and I very much recommend it.

#chocoholic fics #btvs #faith lehane #episode revamp #the scoobies

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dregstrash · 5 years ago

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jealousy, that thing with claws (pt.7)

A/N: Here it is folks the last chapter!! I’m sorry it took so long for this to get out into the world. I can’t begin to describe how thankful I am for all of you who have read this. I wasn’t expecting so many people to want this story, and was so pleasantly surprised when it became a reality. Thank you for showing Petya love, and for always supporting my writing! So, without further ado, hope everyone enjoys!!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 ||

Also now on Ao3!

Tagging: @kestrel-of-herran @ipizzippy @stormwitch-privateer @queenghafa @ysitsohardtofindaname @shadowylighting @alittlelark @privateerrezni @terrywho-cartoons

Nikolai was going to kill Zoya. This time she went too far, and now his ass hurts as his horse raced through the battle torn field.

He would have let her go-- if she had asked him. Not that she needed his permission to do anything, but if she had asked or at least let him know he would have sent troops with her. He would have assigned some Grisha out of their guard duties to accompany her. But no. She heard the news that the the Fjerdans had started a skirmish in Petya’s hometown and she had left in the dead of night.

No word. No message. Just an empty room when Nikolai came to her door to ask if she was alright with the news.

His stomach had dropped to his feet when he had first realized where she had gone. For one second, all the hope that Petya had given him that there might be the slimmest of chances that Zoya and him could be something more substantial disappeared. But that disheartening possibility was quickly replaced with bone chilling worry.

As Nikolai rushed to get supplies together for his reckless solo journey, images of Zoya being struck down by a Fjerdan hand or fighting a mass of enemies by herself kept blocking his vision. And no assurances that she was going to be fine would calm his racing heart.

It was more than half a day’s ride to Petya’s home town, but by the fifth hour of his pace, Nikolai began to hear the sounds of a raging battle and he felt what little breath he had leave his lungs as his horse crested the hill and the battle worn land assaulted his eyes.

The city was being sieged and bodies were littered on both sides. Nikolai’s mind tunneled down to where most of the battle was taking place, and he didn’t think he could have been any happier to see a small tornado ripping through the Fjerdans line of defense.

He nudged his already tired horse down and drew his pistol from his side.

All in all it took him about fifteen minutes to finally cut his way through where Zoya and Petya were. But it felt like years had passed.

Nikolai’s horse was unfortunately struck down by a Fjerdan gun, and he very happily reciprocated the kindness to the shooter. Then there was the brief scuffle he faced with three other Fjerdan soldiers that left him with no more than a bruised side and maybe a fracture to one of his fingers. That didn’t matter, though, what mattered that his adrenaline was up, his heart was beating, and that Zoya had the most amusing look of surprise on her face.

“What in all the saints are you doing here?” She cried.

Before Nikolai could answer a round of shots from the other side had sounded off, and on instinct Nikolai ducked towards Zoya, covering her in the circle of his arms. The shots stopped for a half a second, and without thinking, both of them had shot up from their cover and delivered an attack of their own. The soldiers who were still standing fired at will, and Zoya releasing a tidal wave to the offending line.

Nikolai took the time to really look at the other side of the battlefield and cursed as he spotted the tank that Brekker had told him about last time they had a civil conversation.

He scanned the faces of the men and women soldier around him.

“Xander, Kuwei,” Nikolai bellowed, the two Grisha startled at the sound of their names but didn’t hesitate to approach him. “You need to stop that tank before the Fjerdans decide they need to use it. Take three more foot soldiers with you for cover. GO!”

There was no time to have second thoughts. The two went off, and Nikolai turned back to Zoya, only to find her struggling over an unconscious man, leaving her guard completely open.

“Zoya!” Nikolai yelled as he spied an enemy soldier sneaking up behind her.

She didn’t turn around fast enough and before anything happened, Nikolai soundly put a bullet through his skull.

“I don’t need your help!” She yelled at him, even as she struggled to pull the man up with her.

“Obviously you--” Nikolai’s retort died on his lips as soon as he recognized the figure in her arms.

It was Petya. He was covered in dirt, and his shirt had been torn bloody. His left arm was mangled, and from what Nikolai could see, his chest was hardly moving.

“What happened?” Nikolai came up on Petya’s other side and helped Zoya get him into more cover.

“Those feral ice beasts had thrown a grenade right at this house that hadn’t been cleared yet. Petya had gotten the little girl out, but not before it went off and this fucking house landed on top of him. We need to get him to the Medik on the other side of the village.” Zoya said frantically.

The regular stab of jealousy that Nikolai was oddly getting used to took another hit on his heart, but this was neither the time nor place. Petya was injured. Zoya cared enough about him to risk her own bloody life for him. And if saving this man was what it took for Zoya to be happy, then so be it.

“Zo, you’re not going to be able to make it all the way to the Medik tent. And someone needs to stay here to organize this chaos.” Nikolai said grunting as Petya’s weight shifted more to his side. “I’ll take Petya. We need to end this fight here and now before other villages get the wrong end of a tank in their face.”

Zoya met Nikolai’s gaze over Petya’s unconscious head, and despite the war that was raging around them, he had to pause. He just needed one more moment to drink in the intensity of her blue-heated gaze, the righteous fury that always burned so brightly, the sharp lines her face made when she was about to do something dangerous. It was a look he loved-- would always love.

And this might be the last time that this look would be directed towards him.

An explosion sounded off to the west side of the battlefield and reality came crashing back in.

Nikolai forcibly took Petya away from Zoya, and grunted as he deadman-lifted his friend.

“I’ll see you again, Nikolai.” Zoya said simply. A state of truth that wasn’t to be contested.

His tired muscles were beginning to fully take in Petya’s weight, but even so, he managed a weak smile and said, “I’ll hold you to that, Nazyalensky.”

The moon was full tonight. A good sign for the future, Nikolai hoped, because after today, he could use a good sign or maybe twenty more.

Thankfully, Xander and Kuwei were able to stop the tank before anything happened, but not before Xander suffered a nasty blow to the head. Nikolai didn’t think Kuwei had it in him, but he managed to drag Xander all the way back to the Medik and hasn’t left his side since.

The boy had potential, and maybe it was time Nikolai started paying attention to that.

Once the tank was safely dispatched, it was almost clockwork the way his soldiers were able to beat the Fjerdans back to a retreat. Nikolai wasn’t able to get to the front lines once he saw the utter chaos the village had been under. No one had really taken charge of keeping supplies safe or which injured gets the most attention. His soldiers were off on patrols, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to bring order to the frantic chaos.

He had left Petya in the care of one of the better Corporalkis, and had thrown himself to work. He needed to do something. He couldn’t sit beside an unconscious man, letting thoughts of Zoya drive him insane.

So he organized supplies, assured the citizens of the village, helped with making more defense measures around the safe haven his soldiers had managed to carve out in the midst of the attack. He did everything he could until there was nothing left to do, and he looked up to see that night had fallen.

Exhaustion was deep in his bones. He could feel it settled and coat his muscles, but sleep was the last thing on his mind.

“You never answered my question.” Her voice came out of the shadow of trees, and he didn’t bother turning around to meet her.

He just kept staring up at the moon, and focused on the hard bark biting into his back.

But Zoya was never one to be ignored so she stood right in front of him, forcing him to look up and see her dark hair silhouetted by the moonlight, casting her face in an ethereal glow.

“You’re going to have to specify, my dear Nazyalensky.” Nikolai sighed, “If the question is how one can look so good sitting in the moonlight, I won’t have any answers for you. One can only--”

“I asked you what you were doing here.” She said irritably. “A small village battle is hardly any notice for a king.”

“And I’d argue that it’s no place for a general either, but I’m a much smarter man to really contest anything you say.” Nikolai smirked, hoping against all hopes that she’d leave him alone.

It hurt having her glaring at him like that. It hurt that despite everything, there was still this niggling doubt that she’d still choose someone else, and that he’d have to be okay with that.

“You shouldn’t be here, Nikolai.”

“Well, it seemed like everyone was was doing reckless things for people they care about and I refuse to not be on trend. I’m king after all. It should be setting those kinds of precedence.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Zoya huffed in exasperation, and finally dropped to sit in front of him.

“Petya needed my help.”

“Clearly.”

“His village was going to be destroyed if it wasn’t for me.”

“I’m sure they’ll erect a statue in your honor.”

“You would have done the same for a friend.”

Whatever snarky reply was sitting on Nikolai’s tongue evaporated, as the word friend rang in between them.

It was such a simple word-- an overused one if he was honest, but with one word the dark cloud that was pressing against his chest began to lift.

“A friend?” He said slowly. He watched Zoya’s face carefully, desperately trying to read her face for any hint to the thoughts that were going on in her mind.

“A friend.” She shrugged, “I’m assuming you know what those are.”

“I do. Because that’s what we are, unless those hours of you calling me an idiot were telling me something else.”

All of Nikolai’s unspoken sentiments were hanging in the air. His questions, his doubts, his feelings were an undercurrent to the calm waves of his tone, and he’d never admit himself to be cowardly. But in this moment, with Zoya looking at him curiously, he couldn’t make his mouth form what he really wanted to say. For once, he was speechless, and he was in the complete mercy of Zoya who was looking at him oddly.

“I--” Zoya started, but quickly groaned in frustration. Nikolai started to smirk, he almost started to say he’d wait all night for her response, instead the next thing he knew Zoya’s mouth was pressed against his and her hands were clutching to the front of his dirtied shirt pulling him closer.

He wrapped his arms around her, tilting his head a little more to get a better angle, and he’d gladly fight another ten Fjderan soldiers if that’s what it took for Zoya to make that small moan that she gave when he had started nibbling on her lower lip.

“You’re still an idiot, Nikolai.” Zoya said as she rested her forehead against his, “But for some reason that’s supposed to be endearing to me.”

Nikolai laughed slightly and then brought their lips back together. He still didn’t know what this thing between them was, or what this kiss could mean, but he did know that this was a start--it was a beginning, and that was enough.

#zoyalai #jealous nikolai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lanstov #nikolai x zoya #king of scars #kos #im going to cry tears of joy #i finally finished this #im so damn happ #i dont even care if no one finds interest in this story anymore #i finished this wip #and i am so happy

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