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writingdungeon-inactive · 7 months ago

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Caught on Replay 3

Ok, I really like this story, like I have been thinking about this over Shane... SHANE!

MDNI - Chp1 / Chp2 / Chp4

Sighing softly as Harvey walked through the quiet morning streets, he couldn't stop replaying last week's events in his mind. He had completely fumbled his attempt to get closer to Farmer, his nerves getting the better of him at the worst possible moment. The memory of it made his cheeks flush with embarrassment all over again.

As he approached the museum, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping inside with a somewhat clear mind. The familiar scent of old books and polished wood greeted him, wrapping him in a sense of comfort he desperately needed. He walked quietly to the desk to return the book he had borrowed, exchanging pleasantries with Gunther.

Maybe he should take up the suggestion of a dating book while he was there, he thought as he wandered through the aisles. It had been a while since he'd even attempted to flirt with anyone, and his social skills were definitely rusty. The thought brought a wry smile to his face—Harvey, the town's doctor, seeking advice on matters of the heart from a paperback like it was an actual love doctor.

Stepping into the library section of the museum, Harvey glanced around the modest space. The library's selection wasn't vast; there was a comforting intimacy to its shelves. He scanned for titles that might shed light on overcoming awkward encounters. Finally, his eye caught a book by "Dr. Hakim" that seemed promising. With a nod to himself, he picked it up and headed towards one of the study tables tucked in a corner.

As he turned the corner, he froze in his tracks. There you were, sitting at a table near the window, your head resting in your palm as your eyes scanned the pages of a book lying flat in front of you. A mix of surprise and nervousness washed over him. He hesitated, unsure if he should approach you or quietly find another spot. But seeing you there, so engrossed in your reading, stirred something in him—a desire to make things right, to bridge the gap his mistakes had created.

Summoning his courage, he took a deep breath and walked over to your table. "Hey, Farmer," he greeted softly, hoping not to startle you.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and guardedness. "Oh, hi, Harvey," you replied, sitting up a bit straighter. "What's up?"

"Returning a book," he said, holding up the one he'd just picked out. "And, uh, looking for some new reading material."

You glanced at the book in his hand, a small smile playing on your lips. "Book of Love?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harvey felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I figured it couldn't hurt," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought I could use some pointers after, you know, last week."

Your smile softened, and you gestured to the seat across from you. "Wanna sit?" you offered.

Harvey nodded, grateful for the invitation. He sat down and placed the book on the table, feeling a bit more at ease. "What are you reading?" he asked, trying to make casual conversation.

You glanced at your book and then back at him. "Different kinds of nutrient mixes," you replied with a hint of enthusiasm. "I'm trying to up the quality of my harvest."

Harvey's interest was piqued. "That's really interesting. I've always admired how much effort you put into your farm," he said sincerely. "It must be rewarding to see the results."

You nodded, your eyes lighting up. "Oh, It is. There's something really satisfying about seeing a crop grow because of the care you put into it. But there's always room for improvement, and I'm always looking for ways to improve."

He smiled, chuckling softly. "I can understand that. Looks like we're both trying to find ways to improve, huh?"

You chuckled softly in return. "Yeah, I guess so. Different topics, but the same idea."

A moment of comfortable silence settled between you, the quiet rustling of pages and the soft sunlight filtering through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. Harvey shifted in his seat, his expression turning more serious as if grappling with something inside.

"I'm sorry," Harvey blurted out softly, setting his book down and meeting your gaze with earnest eyes.

"For what?" You looked genuinely puzzled, tilting your head slightly.

"For sounding like a jerk at the festival," Harvey admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

You sighed gently, closing your book with a thoughtful expression. "Harvey... It's okay."

"And for leaving without a word," he added, his voice tinged with regret. "I should have been more upfront with you."

A mix of emotions flickered across your face—frustration, longing, and a hint of sadness—as memories of that difficult time resurfaced. "Harvey... It wasn't just leaving. It was how you left."

Harvey sighed, his gaze momentarily dropping before meeting yours again. "I know. And I regret it. I was so focused on medical school, on trying to build a future... I thought it was the right thing to do."

"But what about us?" you asked softly, your voice tinged with hurt.

He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I thought... I thought it was best to let things settle. I... didn't handle it well, and I'm sorry."

The weight of unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of old books and the faint murmur of distant voices. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Harvey, you didn't just leave. You disappeared. And I had to deal with the aftermath."

"I'm sorry," Harvey whispered, his voice heavy with remorse. "I... never meant for things to end up like that."

The honesty in his words touched you deeply, stirring up a mix of emotions you had long buried. "I know you didn't. But it hurt, Harvey."

Tentatively, he reached out, his hand hovering between you. "Can we... can we try to make things right?"

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity and regret etched in his expression. A part of you wanted to push him away, to shield your heart from further pain. But another part—the part that still cared—yearned for closure, for a chance to heal old wounds.

Taking a leap of faith, you nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. "Maybe."

Harvey's eyes softened with gratitude, relief evident in his expression. "Thank you," he whispered, squeezing your hand gently.

The tension between you seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative sense of hope. For a while, neither of you spoke, content to sit in each other's presence, absorbing the quiet intimacy of the library.

Eventually, Harvey broke the silence, his voice soft but earnest. "I want you to know... I've never stopped thinking about you, about us."

You looked at him, your heart fluttering with a mix of emotions. "I haven't either," you admitted quietly. "It's just... After you left…. It was difficult."

"I know," he said softly, his gaze steady on yours. "And I'm truly so so sorry."

"I believe you," you replied honestly. "But I’m still mad at you."

Harvey nodded, his expression sheepish. "I understand. I feel like I deserve more than that."

The content silence settled between you again, time rolling on without a care. Soon you glanced at the clock on the wall and realized how much time had passed. "I should probably get back to the farm," you got up gathering your things.

Harvey nodded, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. "Of course. I don't want to keep you."

As you turned to leave, he followed suit, walking with you toward the museum's exit. Outside, the evening sun bathed the town in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.

"Harvey," you began hesitantly, turning to face him. "Would you... want to come over for dinner?"

Harvey's eyes widened slightly in surprise at your invitation, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected offer. He hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts before responding.

"I... I'd like that," he replied softly, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. "I'd really like that."

A tentative smile touched your lips, relief, and nervousness mingling in your expression. "Great. Just... let me finish up a few things at the farm, and then you can come over. Say, in about an hour?”

Harvey nodded eagerly. "I'll be there."

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 2 years ago

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The Babysitter- Day 7

Summary: All you want for your last day with your bodyguard is a quiet day at home, good luck with that.

Theif!Reader x The Red Hood

3.1k

Warnings: SMUT18+, public sex, swearing, choking, teasing, angry fights, canon typical violence.

Day 6

“What are we going to do today?” You ask, rolling onto your side so you can look Jason in the eye. Jason, the name has been swirling around in your head since you learned it and now you don't think you'll ever forget it or the man it belongs to.

“What do you wanna do?” His hand creeps up the small of your back bringing up close to him, “we could order in, stay here all day.”

“We could but I think I should make a thank you gift for Harley.”

“Why?”

“This is kind of her fault.”

“She paid me, if anything I should get a gift.”

“Well, how about I make some cookies and we save some for her and you can eat most of them.”

“I thought you could only make eggs,” he jokes, groaning as he hears the familiar chords of his ringtone, “Hold that thought,” he groans even louder reaching over you and staring at his screen, “Fuck, what do these idiots want?” Jason sits up, his arm pulling you onto his chest as he does, “couldn’t they just let me have one more day?”

“Don’t know about you, but I’ve never been lucky.” you joke, pulling the blankets up tightly over you.

“What is it Jamie? I told you not to bother me.”

“Sorry Boss, just that we got word of the Penguin doing a trade in the zoo and-”

“It's today.”

“I sent Scarlett and Loxley to check it out 2 hours ago and I ain't heard from them.”

“Shit. Leave it with me.”

“Problem?”

“Yeah, trouble maker. I gotta go,” Jason grumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and climbing from your bed.

“Go?” you follow him, shivering as the morning air hits your naked body, “Where are we going?”

“We are not going anywhere. I am going,” he starts to search the ground for his armor, pulling on his pants when he finds them, “You’re going to stay here.”

“I don’t think I am,” you dig through your drawers pulling out a black pair of leggings, “You said it yourself, I get into too much trouble when I’m alone, so I have to come with you.”

“This is going to be dangerous,” he pauses as he pulls his shirt over his head, “You're staying here.”

“Even more reason for me to come.”

“Trouble maker,” he levels his eyes at you, “Don’t make me restrain you.”

“I won’t, just let me come.”

“Do you promise to do as you're told?”

“I want to say yes, but-”

“That would be a lie.”

“Yeah, how about I promise not to needlessly get myself into danger?”

“Ok fine, but hurry up. We’re leaving in 2 minutes, we gotta get to the aquarium.”

“Why do I have to wear this?” you ask, tugging on the annoying domino mask that he made you wear. Not only was it too big, but the whiteout eyes made it kind of weird to see.

“Incase someone recognises you.” Jason says like it's obvious, he doesn't want you to be in danger because he brought you into his business. His brain starts to whirl with what's going to happen to you tomorrow after he leaves you, if he leaves you. He has to leave you, this deal was only for the week and he can't abandon his business for longer. Jason wonders what you’ll do, if you’ll remember him or if you'll just get on with your chaotic little life without him, maybe find a nice henchman and leave Gotham.

“Jason, no one in the history of my life has ever recognised me. I’m barely a blip on anyone's radar.”

“I don't believe that's true,” he pulls you in close, his fingers grazing along his mask on your face, “You’re unforgettable,” leaning his shiny helmet into your forehead the cold sending a tingle down your spine, “You ready to go in?”

“I am. Let's go get your boys.”

“And you are-”

“Not going to endanger myself for no reason.”

“Good girl,” he gives you a tight hug, before leading you into the depths of the aquarium.

“OO a shark,” you whisper as a reef shark swims over your head, the tiny little colourful fishes swimming all around you, the dim blue lights and the sunlight filtering through the open tanks as you walk deeper and deeper inside.

“We’re getting close,” he whispers in return, his hand falling to the gun at his hip, “I know it's hard for you, but try to be quiet.”

You nod, zipping your lips and locking them with an imaginary key. You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you notice a shadow down the path and you start to hear voices. You shoot a finger out, pointing them out to Jason, but he grabs your hand pulling it back and pressing you into the glass wall.

“Stay here,” his voice harsh and threatening, but his brain’s full of worry. He knows what these men are like, what they do to people who oppose them and worse he knows how that disgusting bird brain treats his prisoners, “You hear me, Trouble Maker?” you nod again, thankful that he forced you to silence, fuck its so much easier to lie when you dont have to talk.

He stalks off, his hands close to his guns as he heads down the left side of the path. He melts into the shadows as he walks, a skill he probably learned from the bat you imagine. His ass so full in those tight ass pants he wears and with the swagger of a man about to go on a rampage, jesus you want to fuck him so badly right now.

Instead, you pull a gun from under your shirt. He didn't see it or he didn't want to or he was happy you brought something to protect yourself. But really, that was just for show. The real weapon was in your pocket, just a snippet of it. One tiny leaf wrapped in a zip lock bag. It was all the weapon you need.

Slowly you creep down the right side of the hall, the gunfire already echoing through the glass building. There's no water at your feet so he hasn't hit the glass yet, which means he's interrogating them. His men must be in a different room. You sink onto your tiptoes, crouching behind a desk, a chair and slinking through the shadow when you hear his voice, “Where are my men?” he shouts at them, “tell me where they are and you’ll walk out of there.” and he thinks you're a bad liar, anyone could tell that was a lie. You almost swear as you stumble a bit over the rubbish on the ground, not no rubbish, files. Rolling them up you stick them into the back of your leggings, you can look at them later. For now you need to find Jason's men, they have to be here somewhere.

You push yourself closer to the wall as more men rush into the room, not noticing you at all as they start to rush the Red Hood.

When the wave of men have all entered the room, you slink down the corridor from which they came. Several doors line the hallway, shit. Which one? You try to think over the violent noise coming from the other room, when you hear a thud behind the second door.

Locked. Fuck, reaching into your boot you pull out your lockpicks and within seconds you’ve got the door open. The men inside stare up at you confused, their bound hands and gagged mouths mumbling something. You pull the gag from the one with the dark hair, “Behind ye lass,” you spin around and see a man dressed in a suit, far from the thugs you saw in the other room. Your pin still in your hand you stick it in the man's throat, his blood bursting out from the hole and covering you, like you're stuck in some bloody anime. When he falls to the floor you grab Jason’s men's bindings quickly untying them, “You wit da boss, lass?” the man winks before helping his friend to his feet, “Names Scarlett,”

You nod, gesturing them to follow you as you head back down to where Red was. You stop them at the corner, peeking around to see Red surrounded by bodies and covered in blood. Fuck, why is that such a sexy look on him?

He’s so focused on keeping the men from the corridor he thinks you’re in, that he doesn't see you, doesn't see his men until you're screaming his name and firing a shot right beside his head. Jason doesnt even realise what you’ve done until he feels the body fall down beside him.

“Red, Run!” you shout at him, throwing your baggie at the crowd of bodies on the ground.

Jason sees you grab Scarlett's hand, something new digs into his heart, his eyes fixed on where you’re dragging both men behind you. You’re covered in blood, why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt? What was in that bag? How did you find his men?

“I told you to stay put.” he snarls at you as you run past him grabbing his hand with your free one, “Scarlett,” he says equally as aggressively.

“Whos dis lass boss?” Scarlett asks as he picks up Loxley and throws him over his shoulder, “I like her.”

“Not yours, is Loxley ok?” Red puffs as you run, a large sound behind him makes him pick up the pace, as you race forward and out of the aquarium, followed by a mass of vines, the vines retreating as soon as they hit the sun.

Huffing, you lean against the walls of the aquarium, “Are you ok?” you ask Jason, reaching out to touch him only for him to flinch away from you.

“Blood,” Jason takes a deep breath, he can't do this right now. He needs to get the boys back to base. You’re not hurt and with that relief another emotion fills the worries void,“Forward.” He directs them, pushing the party towards their base. He slips his arm under Loxleys, helping Scarlet carry him. Jason doesn't look at you, he- it hurts, you didn't listen and now something happened. Something worse could have happened. He didn't- he can't- it's too much to deal with right now, so instead he focuses on his men and getting them to a doctor.

“Are you ever going to talk to me again?” you ask as you sit on the rooftop as Jason walks out of The Red Hoods main hideout. The men down stairs being looked after by the shiftiest looking doctor you've met since Harley.

“Here,” he throws a set of clothes at you, “I can’t-”

“Cant what? Look at me?” you stand, dropping the clothes to the ground, “I'm not fucking sorry for what I did and I'd do it again. I saved those men and oh,” you pull the papers from your pants, “got you these too,” you throw them at his feet, “Don't know what they are but I'm sure the GCPD would be interested in seeing them.”

“Trouble maker,” Jason sighs, noticing how the blood on you is dry now, caked into your hair and into your clothes. Why can’t you just do what your fucking told? Why does everything have to be an argument?

“Fucking hell, just tell me what the problem is.” you shout, throwing the domino mask at him, “you think I give a shit if someone kills me? You think I'm worried about a little blood? I don’t know if you noticed Mr high and mighty but this broody, silent, macho act. It does fuck all for me, so why don’t you just tell me what the fuck is going on in that huge head of yours.”

“Stop,” he walks towards you, his eyes stare down at the ground while his hands reach out for you.

“Stop talking,” you step back, “stop walking head first into danger, stop trying to help” you stumble as you reach the banister on the roof, “What the fuck do you want me to do Jason? Just sit around and wait to die? Wait for you to leave me?”

“I don't like seeing you like this.”

“Like what? A mess? Because news flash, I've been this way forever!”

“No,” his eyes slowly rise, taking in the blood on your shoes, soaking your shirt, your hair and the tiny bruise on your arm. He reaches up to your face, grasping your chin when you try to turn away from him, “Angry at me and covered in blood.”

“Not-”

“Shut up,” he pinches your cheeks together, “can I talk for once?”

“Fine, but you've only got 12 more hours to punish me before-” his hand moves over your mouth, the other wrapping around your middle and stepping you back from the ledge.

“I thought-” he peers up at the bat signal in the sky before turning back to you, “I thought it was your blood, that something had happened to you. But you're capable, way more capable than I thought and I'm sorry for that. This death wish of yours, I- I just-" he shakes his head trying to align his thoughts, "That's not even the worst of it,” you try to mumble behind his hand but he just holds it tighter, “I don't- if they had killed you I don't know what I would've done, but I know it would've been bad. And I havent- I haven't felt like that in a very long time.” he releases your mouth.

“I didn't mean to worry you. But like you said I'M capable. I can look after myself Jason.”

“Yeh but like you said, I still got 12 hours left to punish you.” he smirks down at you, “not only for not listening,” he pushes you down on the bannister, “But for all those curse words you just threw at me,” he towers over you, making you lean so far back that your head is almost dangling off the side of the building, “You going to be a good girl and take your punishment?”

“Yes.” your mind starts to swirl as the blood rushes to your head and Jason's huge hand slaps onto your pussy, “Shit.” you pant, as he does it again, “Not- you’re.”

“No, I’m not counting,” he grabs hold of your throat to keep you steady, “You can take it, cant you?”

“I will.”

“Good girl, then take it.” he orders, continuing his slapping, his eyes watching you intently. That fucking blood still on your pretty face, he wants to rub it off almost as much as he wants to slap the asshole smirk from it. He sees your leg tightening, your head bobbing like you want to sit up and look at him. But you haven't earned it, you frightened the shit out of him and this is the only way he knows how to drill the lesson into your chaotic little head, “You going to cum, Trouble Maker?”

“Ah huh.” your legs flail and your throat constricts under his hand, your wheezing only seeming to egg Jason on.

“Go on then-” he stops his movements releasing you from his hold and leaving you hanging over the side of his warehouse, “-Cum.” he laughs at you, your hands fisting at your sides as you slide down onto the ground, “Is it really that hard to listen to me?” Jason's hand grabs at your hair, pulling you to your feet, “I told you to cum,”

“Yeah, I get it. If I don't listen, I don't get -fuck you-" you glare at him when he laughs at you again, "what I want.”

“You still swearing at me, you little brat?” he yanks on your hair, exposing your neck to him, “While you're covered in someone else's blood, you really have no self preservation instincts do you?”

“Does that frighten you?” yes, yes it does. It frightened the shit out of him. But instead of answering he picks you up, throwing you over his huge shoulder, slapping you on the ass and he starts to walk, “Where are we going?” you ask, poking your fingers into his squishy but, “you’re ass looks great from this angle, just so you know,” you slap him and that earns you another, “This your kind of torture just throwing me around and slapping me?”

“Is it working?”

“It’s working me up, if that was the plan then yes.”

“Good girl. Is that-”

“Rain.” you smile up at the sky, the tiny droplets of water falling into your eyes.

“That'll do,” Jason drags you from his shoulder, setting you down on your feet in front of him. The rain splattering over your face, over his. He wipes the droplets from his eyes before moving his hand to your face and wiping the now wet blood from your face, “Much better.” He smiles leaning down, his thumb brushes the blood from your lips, “The only thing I wanna taste is you, Trouble Maker.” slowly he peels your soaking clothes from you, the rain falling down your body like little droplets of ice sending shivers all over you. His hand cups your jaw bringing your face up to his, “I had planned on torturing you some more,” his fingers peel his jacket from his shoulders before throwing it on the bare concrete, “But fuck,” he picks you up his strong hand on your ass as he lowers you slowly onto his jacket, “How can I deny you when you look at me like that?”

“Sofite and so close to your men,” you tease him, trying to wrap your legs over his thick thighs.

“Don’t mock me when I'm feeling generous, Trouble Maker,” he threatens, the head of his cock just teasing at your pussy, “Or do you not want it?” he leans back, laughing when you try to chase him only to hit the cold concrete, “I can wrap you up and take you home, is that what you want?”

“NO,” your arms extend out to him, trying to pull him back, “Please Jason, don't leave me like this.”

“So pretty when you beg,” his body covers yours, blocking the rain from you as he slowly fucks into you, both of you letting out little moans as you press together. His hand slides down your thigh lifting it up to his hip so he can plunge deeper into you, “Take my cock so well, my little trouble maker,” his fingers dig into your cheeks holding your face so close that you can feel his reggae breathing in your mouth, “so fucking beautiful.”

“Jason, fuck.” you pant, arching up so that his soft tummy grazes over your clit, your legs tightening around him, “Jason I'm going to cum, please let me cum,”

“No.”

“Why, please, please I want it so bad.”

“You want to listen to me don’t you? To be good?”

“Yes.”

“Then be good and hold it in.”

“Fuck, how- when you- like that Jason?”

“Baby,” he rests his forehead on top of yours, his eyes boring into yours, “say my name again.”

“Jason, fuck I’m- fuck - so full of you.”

“Sounds so good when you say it.”

“Right there, Jason. Please, more, Jason.”

“Fuck, you’re clenching down so hard on me,” he smiles at you, his teeth nipping at your lips, “You need it don’t you.”

“I need you.”

“Only I can make you feel like this.”

“Yes, so full,” you scream as you orgasm creeps over the crest, “Jason I-”

“Fuck, me too.”

“Give it to me, please Jason. I want it,” you beg, your eyes pleading with him as he pounds into you. His lips meeting yours with so much fire it almost burns the rain away, “Yes, like-” you moan into his kiss as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy gripping his cock so tight that there's no way he could pull out, it convulses milking his cum from him and painting your guts in a warmth that seems to fill your soul as much as your sopping pussy.

Jason slows down, his cock just grinding inside of you as you lay in the rain. He stops you when you try to move, keeping you held down beneath him, “I’m not done being inside you yet, Trouble Maker.”

“We’re going to get colds out here.” you joke, trying to discern the way he's staring at you right now. Like something is going on in his brain that you can't quite see.

“I just need a minute,” his hand holds your face, keeping your eyes on him, “I wanna memorize your pretty face.”

“Why would you need to- you’re going to disappear aren't you?” you sigh, turning your head from him, “just go now Jason. I- I cant stand watching people leave.”

“Trouble maker,” he pulls out from you, sitting up on his legs and pulling his jacket around you, “look at me please.”

“No. If you’re leaving, just go.”

“This is my place, why would I leave?” he laughs, standing up and offering you his hand. You stand and as he expected all the wind is right where it belongs in your sails. You tighten his jacket around you, glaring at him with the fury of 1000 suns and fuck its adorable. Why are you so cute when you’re mad? Especially now that he can really see your face, fuck now he definitely wants to bend you over the railing.

“Fuck you!” you stomp, your hair sopping wet and hitting you in the face when you thrash your head around looking for the direction of the door.

“Doors to your left,” he teases.

“I can find the door.” You start to stomp to your left, shivering in Jason's jacket and inhaling his wondrous scent. Fucking prick, just going to let you leave and shiver to death. When you’re almost at the door you feel a strong hand wrap around your arm and drag you back, “You wanted me to leave Jason, I'm going.”

“I was just playing Trouble Maker,” his hand slips under your chin, tilting your head up to his, “Not nice when people fuck with you is it?”

“This your way of telling me you care?”

“Is it enough for you?”

“For now. Maybe for later you can get me something shiny.”

“Later?”

“Yeah, unless you are going to disappear tomorrow when your deal with Harls is done. In which case, I will continue to angrily stomp away”

“No, your brand of chaos is like heroin to me,” he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him as he walks you towards the door, “and I’ve always had an addictive personality.”

Taglist:

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@nutmeg030 @igotanidea @tild3ath @halbhohehalluzination

@goblinhobo @efam @princessbl0ss0m @bubbles-incorrect-yb

@ilikw @megumisbabymomma @mxtokko @viperbaroness

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd fanfic #red hood x reader #reader x red hood #red hood fanfic

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blinddreams24 · 9 months ago

Text

Crying

A Mermay Prompt

(Note: ugly crying and mentioned character death of a family member)

Masterlist

Prev / Next

“No, mom, I-.”

“…”

“Mom, I want-.”

“…”

“…Please, just listen-.”

“…”

“…Okay. I’m sorry. Bye.”

You hung up the call. You didn’t want to think about it. Don’t think about it. Just… do something else. Your knee bounced with the leftover extra energy from that candy.

Right. Candy. Killer.

You could go visit one of the boys. That’d make you feel better. You made sure to pack extra food and grabbed your keys.

The ride there was painfully slow. Nothing but trees and grass until you reached your destination. Nothing to think about but…

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

You practically ran to your little beach when you parked the car, bag slung over your shoulder.

“Oh! Hey, y/n!” Cross greeted with a smile. His eyes caught on your face and he hesitated. “Y/n?”

You gave him a big fake smile. “I’m okay. Just zoned out for a second there! Sorry! I brought food!” The lifted the bag.

He was obviously still concerned. “…What’d you bring?”

“Sandwiches!” You exclaimed with a dramatic flourish as you pulled out one of the sandwiches. “The ones you said pizza was better than!”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, you get to try them now!” You shoved one in his hands.

He… didn’t eat it. He just gestured for you to hand him the bag, put the sandwich back inside, and turned back to you.

“Y/n.” You shrank at the stern yet concerned voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” You folded your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels.

His disbelieving glare pinned you in place, making you sweat.

“It’s nothing.”

“…”

“Cross. I’m fine.”

“…”

“……I…I don’t… Cross…”

“…”

“…I don’t want to talk about it…”

His glare relaxed. “Y/n. You’re all caught up running from something. Please,” He pleaded. “You need to talk about it. Come here.” His hand pat the ground next to him.

You hung your head and followed his directions. When you sat, his arm went around you.

“Y/n-.”

“You’re the opposite of my mother.”

Cross blinked at you. “Uh… is that a good thing?”

“Yes. She’s… never been particularly nice.” You looked away from him. “It took me a long time to realize that…”

“…Your mother. She… lives nearby?”

“No. She hates the water. Dad always…” You stopped yourself. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

Cross didn’t let you. “Your Dad always what?”

“…He loves… loved the ocean.” You corrected yourself. It was fine. You could keep it together. Just don’t think about it. “He would always take me to the beach. We’d play in the water, he taught me to scuba dive, and we always cleaned up after. He made it fun.” You tried not to sniffle.

“…Did something happen?”

“…” You tried so hard, but your voice cracked anyway. “Yes… I… Mom just told me… He… He died last week. They’re ha-having his funeral tomorrow… She…” You choked on your next words. “She told me not to come… That I was disowned.”

“Disowned?”

“…I don’t have a family anymore, Cross. She kicked me out.” A hot tear rolled out of your eye, betraying you.

“O-Oh…” Cross hugged you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You sniffled. “Sh-She never liked me… This w-was a long t-time coming. Dad was the last… the last person holding me there. And now…” You couldn’t finish that sentence.

Cross finished it for you. “And now he’s gone.”

Tears streaked down your face. You nodded.

“…It’s okay if you need to… what was it? Cry?”

You laughed. “Yeah. It was cry. I…” You laughter melted into something harder. “I don’t… Why?”

Finally broken, you leaned into Cross’s hug and sobbed. He was surprisingly warm for an aquatic skeleton.

Letting you cry, Cross started rubbing your back and humming, just letting you vent.

“Why? Why him?! I didn’t even get to say goodbye!!” You screamed into his chest. “He was the only one left!! Cross! What am I supposed to do now?! I- I didn’t think it’d happen so soon… Cross.”

He let you pull away to look him in the eyes. Ugly tears made your cheeks glisten at him in the sunlight. “The only place left is the sea…”

His expression turned sad. “Y/n. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Horror told me about it.” You sniffled and rubbed the tears and snot off your face. Gross… “After Killer gave me that candy.”

“Killer made you a monster candy?”

“Yeah.” You grabbed your sleeve and pulled it up to reveal the lack of scars to your companion. “Healed most of this. Apparently, he accidentally wanted to convert me or something when he added the intent. Horror noticed and explained the situation. Cross.” You grabbed his arm. “I can’t live up here anymore. No one but you guys know I exist. If I died… no one would know… or care.”

“Y/n…” He leaned down to hug you again. “It’s a big decision. You can’t just-.”

“Cross.” You interrupted him. “I’ve already thought about it. I have no one else. Please.”

He sighed heavily. “…Okay. But it will take a while and you’ll need to adjust your diet before diving in head first.”

“…Was that a diving pun?”

You could feel him grin over your shoulder. “Maybe~.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

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fudoh-k · 2 years ago

Photo

😸 ベンチに乗って広がって Get on the bench and spread out #猫 #ねこ #ネコ #cat #katze #chat #gato #gatto #キジ白猫 #pheasant_white_cat #毛づくろい #grooming #日差し #陽射し #日射し #sunligh #パナソニック #panasonic #DMC-TZ (Kanagawa Prefecture) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpCnzepp21a/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#猫 #ねこ #ネコ #cat #katze #chat #gato #gatto #キジ白猫 #pheasant_white_cat #毛づくろい #grooming #日差し #陽射し #日射し #sunligh #パナソニック #panasonic #dmc

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hydaen · 1 year ago

Note

evan & mitzi

1, 14, 36

cristina/lia

2, 7, 35

alecto/rayiin

9, 13, 33

(all your ocs are so cool ahh!)

ooooh my, we're bringing out ancient hydaen lore! characters even i forget about!

Evan & Mitzi

1. What were their first impressions of one another?

evan and mitzi met as kids in school, they both used to be (well still are) two weird children - evan was a quiet nerd and mitzi was the Weird Girl who murdered her dolls and claimed to be a dragon. they bonded together over their passion for animals and particularly for bugs. evan definitely saw mitzi as annoying and nosy but also kinda cool, while mitzi was fascinated by evan's extensive knowledge of animal facts (some made up)

14. How would they describe one another if asked?

Evan would say that Mitzi is a stupid idiot horny lesbian dressed like a clown and Mitzi would say that Evan is the deviantart oc of an edgy goth weeb 12yo

36. How long have they been friends? Would they consider each other best friends?

they are best friends! and as i said, they've been friends since they were 6 or 7yo

Lia & Cristina

disclaimer: cristina and lia aren't proper girlfriends anymore, they have an on and off relationship but with no commitment

2 .What was their first date like? If they haven’t been on a date yet, how would it go?

they went rollerskating and cristina was absolutely shit

7. What do they argue about?

they often argue about how accurate it is to call daylight vampires "vampires"- cristina (classic vampire) says they're not vampire vampires since they don't feed on blood and aren't harmed by the sunligh and lia (daylight vampire) says they're still biologically in the same Family of species and hence are still vampires

35. What moment did they realise that they were in love?

they are not really in love but there is a deep feeling going on. I haven't really thought about it much tbh!

Alecto & Rayiin

9. What’s the most difficult thing they’ve been through together?

I haven't thought about a full story for them tbh, but I can say that they went through some hardship when a traumatic event from Rayiin's past started affecting them again and Rayiin started suffering again from anxiety, depressive episodes and panic attacks. Alecto learnt how to deal with it and though rayiin gets in weird moods sometimes, she now knows how to help them now

13. What would they say each other’s best quality is?

to Alecto, Rayiin's best quality is how sweet they are, which is something she struggled a lot with admitting she liked at first. to Rayiin, Alecto's best quality is how strong and confident she is

33. Who was the first to say ‘I love you’?

rayiin was the first to declare their feelings but alecto initially rejected them. after their relationship became romantic, rayiin tried their best to not say they loved her, to avoid putting too much pressure on her, since she stated she wanted to take things slowly (alecto isn't good with romanticism and feelings). ultimately it was her to actually say "I love you" first

#thank you!!!#asks #oc: evan #oc: mitzi #oc: cristina #oc: lia #oc: alecto #oc: rayiin

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kikiiswashere · 1 year ago

Text

Children of Zaun - Chapter 17

Trial and Error

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, eventual smut

Chapter Summary: Katya and Viktor finally go to scope out some boats for his Academy project. While at the harbor, she spies a mysterious figure harvesting purple stuff (they were out of Sunny-D), and nearly gets outted by an exuberant Annie. Nasha comes to The Last Drop to talk with Silco and Vander about an opportunity for the revolution.

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 5.5K

The water was warm. Perfect. Not borderline scalding like the Springs. So close to Katya’s own body temperature that it felt like an extension of her. If it weren’t for the way the water parted and lapped at her arms and chest, she wasn’t sure if she would’ve been able to detect it. That, and the rippling across the surface, distorting the starlight’s glittering reflection, confirmed the water’s presence. It was pitch-dark, save for the sparkles above, which shimmered and refracted below, making Katya feel as if she were swimming in space itself.

There was no edge, no horizon line. There never was in this dream. Just her in this infinite space. Her body never tired, her breath was never taken away by exertion. She just swam. Floated.

Sometimes she would hum or sing, and her voice would somehow simultaneously echo off the glittering walls she couldn’t see, and be absorbed by them. The sound thrummed inside her body, and vibrated off of her damp skin.

It was only ever her here. No Viktor splashing behind her, no papa or mama swimming ahead. In some ways, it was nice. In others, it was lonely.

She forged ahead, cutting through the water in a lazy stroke, before flipping on her back and gazing up at the pinpricks of light. She felt her long hair swirl and hover in the water beneath her, swaying like a tangle of kelp. Then, her skin prickled and her body hummed. Katya knit her thick brows together, rolling over and shifting her body to an upright, treading position (although, there really wasn’t a need to tread in this magick-dream liquid). She looked behind her and squinted, even though she knew the action was futile.

Was there someone else here? It felt like it, almost.

She parted her lips to call out.

Then her eyes opened, and she was back in her bed. Squirreled up in her new blanket. The weave was thick and warm, and soft against the skin of her bare legs. The bedroom was still dark, but that wasn’t unusual given the time she normally woke up, and for the Sumps in general. She stretched her hand out of its warm cocoon and pawed at the bedside table, looking for her pocket watch. Once her fingers curled around it, she drew it back and popped it open, eying the time.

Time to get up.

Reluctantly untangling herself, Katya rolled out of bed. She pulled on a pair of trousers and quietly padded out of her room.

By the time the kettle began singing, Viktor had staggered out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and bedheaded. His sister quietly greeted him as she turned the stove off and he teetered toward the kitchen table, sitting down heavily in his chair.

Katya poured the hot water into mugs of tea and bowls of oatmeal, and set them at their respective seats. They shared their breakfast in silence; Viktor eating very slowly, Katya longing for the herbs and spices of Enyd’s oxtail stew.

“I was thinking,” Katya said, stirring the last couple of spoonfuls around her bowl, “that after we go to the Shores, we could go back to the Springs.”

Viktor looked over his mug at her, interestedly.

“An afternoon swim before dinner?”

“You’ll swim with me?” he asked.

Katya took another bite of bland oats and nodded.

“I could go for a swim,” she said, thinking of her dream.

“We should get going then!” Viktor urged; his energy levels suddenly sparked. He gathered his empty dishes and hobbled to the sink, clumsily depositing them.

Katya chuckled, and followed suit.

The Shores – like the Promenade – had the benefit of sunlight. It reflected off the water’s surface in glittering swaths and sharp, blinding bursts. The air was without the dank funk of the Entresol and Sumps; brine and seaweed in its stead. The last bits of the season’s warmth hung on the breeze, ruffling hair and caressing cheeks. But the promise of the upcoming winter months was on the tail end of the wind; crispness and chill ghosting over the backs of bare necks, causing surprise shivers. As such, Katya had brought Viktor’s jacket, even though he argued and groaned that he didn’t need it. She kept it slung over her arm, but she warned him that when she saw gooseflesh ripple over his skin, the coat was going on. And being the younger brother, he was resigned to agree.

The siblings perched themselves on a heap of dry nets, piled on the Shores’ wharf. Katya was relieved that there wasn’t an Enforcer in sight. She dropped the rucksack she had packed in a thankful flumpf at their feet.

The harbor was still on the fuller side, boats not yet having been taken out for their fishing and trade duties. Dockhands, fisherman and mongers, and fishwives traveled to and fro across the water-sogged pier slats, their footsteps calming, echoing plods on the wood. No one paid the siblings any mind; there was work to be done.

Viktor fetched his notebook and pencil from the sack, along with their Papa’s old book on boats. It was a smaller text so Katya didn’t mind bringing it along.

“Here,” she said, holding a hand out. “I’ll hold on to the book.”

He passed it to her and cracked his steno pad open. Many of the pages inside had already been scribbled over – margin to margin, front and back. It warmed Katya’s heart for a reason she didn’t really understand. She smiled. Viktor flipped to a clean page, set the tip of his pencil on the parchment surface, and looked up, his eyes sweeping up and down the harbor. His sister could see in the intensity of his gaze that he was scrutinizing and memorizing the boats present. Their shapes and sizes, the materials they were made from, the mismatched materials that had been used to patch and repair.

He began slowly and carefully sketching a nearby tug boat, his pencil strokes becoming surer and darker as he went. Occasionally, he would write a note next to his sketch, equations and formulae. Katya watched as his eyes glazed over in intense focus, and how his jaw shifted side to side in concentration. A soft, proud smile pulled at her lips like warm taffy; that fondness slid down her shoulders and settled in between her shoulder blades.

The pair sat in companionable silence. Viktor mumbled to himself every now and again, Katya alternated between flipping through pages of the book in her lap, and letting her eyes lazily wander up and down the docks. The tide was beginning its leisurely return to the sea, and slowly, several of the boats in the harbor were taken out before the water became too shallow. She watched as barnacles and mussels that had glued themselves to the pier posts were slowly uncovered. Above, seabirds excitedly gathered in the sky, clicking and squawking their impending delight.

As the water receded, the algae blooms and scruffy marine vegetation became more noticeable. Slicks of slime green coated rocks and seaweeds draped and dripped lazily over them. Most of the plant life were varying shades of green and brown. For Trenchers, working at the water’s edge was really the only time they would see green in the Undercity. The leafy trees of Piltover couldn’t survive the deep dark of the Fissures. What plant life existed there was either equally dark or sickly pale.

There was one exception.

Not wanting to leave Viktor’s side, Katya strained her neck and squinted her eyes towards the mouth of the harbor. She remembered visiting the tidepools with her Papa; he had told her that the purple algae and flowers only grew there – at the opening of the sea, in the littoral caves that cut into the coasts of Piltover and her Undercity. They had fascinated Katya the most, the way they shimmered and seemed to glow from within.

As the tide receded, she thought she saw the purple glimmer on the rocks. It could’ve been a trick of the sun, but it made her smile all the same. She wished she could’ve shown Viktor, but the tidepools and slick crags of the shoreline were too treacherous for him and his cane.

She felt a small hand paw at her side. Turning back, she saw Viktor asking for the book. She passed it over, and then turned to look out past the harbor again. She blinked. A figure had appeared at the edge of the water. A tall, thin someone. In a dark cloak and a wide-brimmed sun hat. A basket was slung over their elbow. They knelt and pawed at the rocks, and puddles between. Occasionally, they would bring up a fistful of purple algae and deposit it into their basket.

Katya’s spine straightened and her brows pinched together. She’d never seen anyone gather it. Papa had told her that it was one of the few inedible marine flora, and its slimy texture and fickle constitution didn’t make it much good for anything else than looking pretty. She couldn’t imagine what someone would harvest it for. Even the flowers, when picked, lost their luster so quickly that they were wilted by the time one brought them home. She had remembered trying, and being very upset when her bouquet hung limply over the drinking glass she used as a vase.

The figure stood and, with steps that spoke of great practice, glided around the large rocks and out of sight. Katya chewed on the inside of her lip and scrunched her nose. The purple halo of the rocks was gone. Gathered up, for some unimaginable reason, into the stranger’s basket.

A little after noon, once Viktor had nearly filled his notepad with sketch after sketch, Katya suggested that they head for the Springs and Oases. Despite wanting to do this next part of their day, the boy grumbled a bit, struggling to extricate himself from the task he was absorbed in. She patiently waited as he finished his drawings and notes, reminding him in a soft voice to take his time. He finally handed his notebook to her, and she stuffed it and the textbook away in the rucksack.

They hopped off the pile of nets – both siblings taking a moment to stretch their legs and backs – and headed for the stairs that would guide them back into the edges of the Undercity. From there, they would wind through the crumbling boundaries of their home city to the Springs.

Once they were halfway up the stairs, a series of shouts from the docks cause both siblings to jump and look around. Katya’s hands gripped Viktor’s shirt tightly and her heart thundered, her eyes frantically looking back at the docks. A flurry of movement grabbed her eye, and the thudding of her heart lessened.

Down on the right side of the docks, near an ancient looking fishing trawler, Annie bounced furiously, waving her thin arms in the air. Beckett was at her side, mooring the small vessel.

“Katya!” Annie screamed.

Even from faraway, Katya could see the wide smile splitting the other woman’s face. She readjusted her hold on Viktor’s shirt and encourage him to keep walking up the stairs.

“Who’s that?” he asked, stumbling a bit as he tried to follow his sister’s instructions and get a look at whoever was yelling at them.

“A patient from the mines,” she lied, her jaw tight.

“Should we go say hello?”

“No, it’s fine,” Katya quickly replied, continuing to urge him up the stairs.

To satisfy her brother, and hopefully shut Annie up, she turned and waved back. And then continued to encourage Viktor away from the Shores.

It had been a long time since Katya swam in the Springs. She hissed in discomfort as she submerged her body in the near blistering water. Viktor giggled at her, and plunged his head underneath the surface. He burst back up in an impressive wave, chestnut hair plastered to his head. His white, crooked smile stood out from the pink of his skin as he egged her to go all the way under. He whooped and clapped when she did, and Katya appeared back above the water laughing.

Their joy rang off the wet rocks of the Springs. Vibrating through the water and humming on their wet skin.

Since Katya was in the pools with him, she allowed Viktor to explore some of the deeper waters. Not so deep that her own toes didn’t touch the bottom, but enough so that his kicks and strokes weren’t impeded by the Terra.

As he splashed and flailed, she took a couple of graceful strokes, reaching her arms over head and cutting through the water like a fish. Then she dove under, undulating her hips and flicking her legs. She swirled through the hot water with her eyes pinched shut, using her fingertips to feel her way. Her head pitched up and she broke through the surface, breathing in the warm, chronically-petrichor scented air. Like in her dream, she flipped on her back and lazily floated, staring up at the sandy colored stalactites above.

“Can you show me that one stroke again?” Viktor asked, as he paddled over.

Living in a port city, their parents had felt it would be important for their children to be able to swim. Luckily, this was a skill both their mama and papa had been adept at. Prior to Viktor’s birth, they would take Katya to the Oases and the small, cleaner beaches on the Undercity’s side of the Pilt, and teach her how to right herself in the water, to float, and to swim.

After Viktor was born, and their mother left, the beaches were swallowed up by chemical runoff. For most of the year, the water in the Oases was too chilled, and would cause Viktor’s limbs to cramp horribly. It didn’t help that the pools there were often full of rowdy, too-rough children who could not be mindful around the handicapped youngster. So, their papa had tried the Springs. Initially fearful that its water would be too hot for any of them – much less his son’s sensitive constitution – both he and Katya were relieved and elated that Viktor’s body responded well to the heat and the amped up buoyancy of the mineral-rich pools.

Together, Katya and her papa taught him different swimming strokes. While Viktor tried, his bent body couldn’t execute the movements as seamlessly; and he preferred just paddling and splashing. He had to live enough in his head most of the time. In the cradle and forgiving nature of water, he allowed himself to drop into his body, and connect with it, move it in ways he couldn’t do on land.

“The firelight one?” Katya asked, wiping her hair back from her face.

Viktor swam to a rock ledge, and clung to it as he nodded.

Taking a breath, she reached out in front of her, aligning her fingertips with her shoulders and then cut her arms down through the water, pulling her upper body beneath the surface. As she propelled forward, her elbows popped up and back, pushing the water behind her hips and legs. Her thumbs grazed the outside of her thighs, hips rolling and legs kicking, before she swung her arms back out of the water and repeated the stroke.

She stopped short of the pool’s edge, and turned to her brother.

“How was that?” she asked with a smile.

Viktor beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes! Can you show me again? Slower this time?”

She did the best she could to slow her movements so he could watch and take mental notes. After a couple more laps, he paddled to the pool’s center and tried the stroke for himself. Katya treaded at his side offering adjustments when they were necessary.

“Keep your legs straighter when you kick . . . palms facing the ground . . . tuck your belly up as you go under . . . “

It was a harder maneuver even for those who were able-bodied, but Viktor did well despite his limitations. He tried again and again, steadily improving until he started to get fatigued, and his form began to suffer. Panting, he flopped onto his back and lazily kicked.

“It is strange being wet and sweaty at the same time,” he mused through gulps of breath.

Katya chuckled. “Yes, it is.”

It wasn’t long before they toweled off and redressed, heading home before the sun went low and made the Sumps even darker. On their way through an Undercity market, they passed a butcher’s counter and Katya’s mouth watered at the sight of oxtails, all lined up in rows of two. Her heart clenched at the memory of her shared supper. She wished she could’ve bought them, but even for scrap meat it was too expensive.

The next stall was a fishwife’s, the crates around her laden with various sea life. At one end of her counter, a bucket sat with melted ice. Katya peered inside and saw two scraggly tentacles.

“They’re the last of my batch,” the fishwife rasped. “No one wants ‘em.”

Katya chewed her lip. She was tired of oats and beans. She thought of what Enyd had said about teaching herself to cook.

“A lot of trial and error.”

“How much?” Katya asked.

“Ten cogs.”

“Ten cogs! Kecáŝ!”Katya muttered, disbelieving. Viktor let out a small gasp and shifted uneasily next to her. “You just said that nobody wants them. I’ll give you four cogs.”

“Five.”

Katya pursed her lips and grumbled a moment before conceding. The fishwife plucked the tentacles from their icy bath and wrapped them up. She thrust the wet package into Katya’s hands, and swiped the coins from her other palm. The fishwife slurred something under her breath, and it soured the young woman’s mood enough to forgo saying thank you.

As she ushered Viktor along, she noticed small bundles of herbs placed on the corner of the counter. Her eyes flicked back to the fishwife, who was busy counting her sales, and then back to the herbs. Quick as a wink and silent as a secret, Katya’s hand snapped up a bundle and stuffed it in her pocket.

Once home, Viktor limped to the shower and Katya began preparing their dinner.

Trial and error. Trial and error.

She kept repeating it to herself like a mantra as she cut and cooked the tentacles. She melted a scoop of cooking grease in a pan and added the appendages. They snapped and spat and curled. Their color, a dull, rocky gray, shifted into a brighter blue as they sat in the pan. The apartment took on the scent of the sea. The oil around them began to brown and she added the bouquet of herbs. She wasn’t sure if this was how one was supposed to do it. . .

Trial and error. Trial and error.

The smell of woods and something bright – close to lemon – joined the briny scent of the tentacles. A forest butted up against an ocean.

One thing Katya did know was that overcooked tentacles turned rubbery. She turned the stove off and swished the pan back and forth, coating the seafood in the herbaceous fat.

“Smells good!” Viktor said excitedly, appearing in the kitchen.

“I hope it’s good,” she prayed. “Go take your seat.”

He hobbled to the table and sat down as she grabbed plates, and placed a tentacle on each one. She carefully plucked the now damp and muted herbs from the pan. Were they supposed to eat these, too? Could they? She shrugged, put the bundle on her plate, and sat opposite her brother.

Initially, they took tentative bites at their dinner, tasting and testing. It wasn’t bad!

Trial and error.

Fatty and meaty in a way beans couldn’t compare with. The hot grease filled them in a different way than oats. The flavor the herbs imparted made the tougher sections of the tentacles worth chewing through.

Katya untied the herbs, and brought a limp, leafy stem to her nose and sniffed.

“Did the fishwife give you those, too?” Viktor asked.

“Yes. She tossed them in to make up for her unreasonableness.”

She popped the herb into her mouth and immediately spat it back out. Viktor laughed.

Trial and error.

When Silco and Enyd entered The Last Drop that evening, both were taken aback by the crowd. Even for a Saturday night, the tavern was bursting at the seams.

“Are any of these girls from the mill?” Silco asked, leaning close to his mother’s ear.

Enyd’s eyes swept over the crowd. It was difficult to see when there were so many bodies, and since she was so short. It also didn’t help that she had never really committed any other face from Clapper to memory, aside from Amos, Birdy, and Nasha.

She shook her head and raised her voice enough for Silco to hear.

“I don’t think so. I don’t see Nasha, anyway.”

She suddenly pulled away, and hid her face in the crook of her elbow as a sudden wave of coughing overtook her. She recovered and Silco guided them through the throngs of patrons to the bar. They were surprised to see that it was not Vander behind the counter, but Benzo. He hobbled to and fro, addressing customer’s needs, filling orders, and collecting dirty tankards. His color and disposition seemed better; his mood probably bolstered by the fact that he was no longer secluded to a bed.

“Where’s Vander?” Silco asked

He and his mother squeezed in next to Sevika who was seated on a middle stool, sipping the foamy head off her beer. She nodded in greeting.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Benzo replied with a sassy head bobble. He picked up a glass hidden beneath the counter and took a swig.

Silco’s lip curled and he spat, “Didn’t Kat tell you not to drink!”

Benzo blinked, confused. Sevika’s eyebrows quirked with interest.

“Kat? Oh, ya mean Kat-YA? Since when’re you on a nickname basis with ‘er?”

“Are you guys talking about Katya?” Annie cried, suddenly appearing with an empty serving tray.

Silco, Enyd, Sevika and Benzo all jumped at the young woman’s sudden entrance. She slammed the tray on the countertop, her pretty face clouded in a bitter expression.

“Janna, Annie,” Sevika grumbled, rolling her shoulders.

“She totally blew me off today!”

“You saw her?” Silco asked.

“Yeah. At the Shores with her little brother. I was with Becks and saw them leaving. So, I called and waved, and she barely looked at me,” she huffed, flicking one of her braids over her shoulder.

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” Enyd offered. “She and her brother were probably trying to keep a schedule.”

Annie rolled her eyes, dissatisfied with this theory.

“She coulda said ‘hello’ at least,” she grumbled. Pushing her tray across the bar, she told Benzo, “The guys playing with Tolder want another round.”

As Benzo went about pouring a couple fresh pints, Enyd turned to Sevika.

“Why aren’t you at your father’s table playing cards?”

Sevika slurped her beer, silver eyes glancing over at her father. He was engrossed in his hand, smoking a cigarillo and leaned back in his seat. A small mound of coins was piled on his side of the table. The two other Trenchers were pitched forward, their noses in the fan of their cards.

“He told me he didn’t need help with those two,” she answered with a sly smile. “Good thing, too. I wanna sit in on this meeting.”

The thin line of Silco’s lips tightened, and he repeated his initial question.

“Where’s Vander?”

“He’s in the basement,” Benzo said, placing overfilled glasses onto Annie’s tray. “Playin’ with ‘is new toys. I told ‘im I could watch th’bar. Tired of bein’ cooped up anyhow.”

Enyd leaned toward the large man and whispered, “Have you seen Nasha? The girl we are supposed to be meeting with?”

Benzo finished loading up Annie’s tray and waved her off.

“I don’ know ‘er. An’ no one’s come up askin’ fer you or Van,” he replied, shaking his head. His face suddenly split into a grin, and he added, “But not fer nothin’ all o’ this,” he nodded toward the bustling bar floor, “is mostly people drawn here by the Children rumors.”

“So, the plan worked then,” Silco said, satisfied, eying the milling bodies.

Benzo snorted. “Yeah, every now n’ again that coal-dust addled brain o’ yours can come up with a good’un. People been comin’ in, pissin’ n’ moanin’ ‘bout the increased Enforcer activity; n’ askin’ if they can help.”

Silco let the insult slide, too distracted by the new numbers of Brothers and Sisters before him. He beamed at his mother and Sevika.

“Ope!” Benzo hiccupped behind them. “This your girl? She’s comin’ up like she means business.”

Silco and Enyd directed their attention towards the front of the bar. Indeed, Nasha stood a few feet from the door, her head craned over the crowd, eyes scanning. She had removed her bonnet and changed her drab work smock. Instead, she glittered and stood out. She’d pulled her hair into two, large puffs that haloed her head. Her clothes were an artful patchwork of deep, jewel-toned fabrics and brass fastenings. Clearly designed and stitched by her, as they molded to her tall and broad frame perfectly. And because it was unlikely any garment shop in the Undercity carried such things.

She spied Enyd and began gliding toward the bar. Patrons parted readily, some moved by the girl’s innately intimidating energy, and some because they didn’t want to be pierced by the pointed shoulder pads of her jacket. As she neared, they could see that she had literally painted her face. Purposeful and meticulous lines and dots of white and yellow accented her eyes and cheeks.

“Hi Ms. Enyd!” Nasha exclaimed brightly. “I almost didn’t see you.”

“Something I’ve struggled with my whole life,” the older woman joked, her arms flourishing at her sides to present her petite stature.

“Nasha, this is my son, Silco,” she introduced. “This is Benzo, and Sevika.”

Silco politely nodded, while Benzo gave her a finger wiggling wave. Sevika seemed frozen, her eyes glued to Nasha’s face, her jaw slack. A furious stripe of coral bloomed over her nose and cheeks.

“HI!” she cried, far too late. Her body jerked as she suddenly came back online, and she knocked her tankard over. “Oh, shit.”

The blush on her face deepened, and spread to her forehead and down her cheeks. She righted her glass and helped Benzo mop up her mess.

Nasha chuckled and turned back to Enyd.

“Where should we go to talk?”

“Vander’s in the basement,” Silco answered. “We’ll go down there. It’s quieter.”

Carefully threading through people in the crowd, he led Nasha, his mother, and Sevika (who tailed behind after pushing the sodden pile of towels over the bar) to the Drop’s private quarters, and then to the basement.

As the joyful din of the tavern faded, it was replaced by repeated deep, muted thumps, heavy breathing, and occasional grunts.

“Should we come back later?” Nasha joked.

Sevika giggled. Then snorted.

“Shit. Sorry,” she moaned, her face turning red again.

“No, come on,” Silco said, unphased by their guest’s unseemly implication.

He led them to the stockroom, and there they found a shirtless, rumpled Vander, gleaming with sweat. On his hands were the bulky gauntlets he’d picked up from Mek’s the day before. Before him was a large, heavy sack of flour that he had tied to a rope and affixed to the room’s rafters with a rudimentary pulley system. He was punching the bag with such ferocity that it swung to and fro, back and forth. Vander ducked, bobbed, and weaved as his adversary came at him, before laying into it with more hits. The bag, while a sturdy weave, was beginning to split and tear, trails of white flour spilling out like sand in an hourglass.

“Vander!” Silco yelled.

Despite being a mountain of a man, he jumped, clanking the gauntlets together and spinning around to face his impromptu audience.

“Oh! Hey!” he panted, a sheepish grin on his lips. His eyes suddenly landed on Nasha and he exclaimed, “Oh, shit! Is it that late already? Sorry! I musta lost track o’ time.”

He dropped the gauntlets on the floor, and hurried over to a stack of crates that he’d left his shirt on.

“That’s a waste of perfectly good flour, Vander,” Enyd admonished. She let her motherly disappointment of food waste over take her, instead of worrying about him practicing fighting. It was an easier and less complicated thing to focus on.

“I know, Ms. E. ‘M sorry,” Vander breathed, wiping his face with his balled-up shirt. “It was th’most Enforcer-like thing I could find. I wanted t’practice usin’ ‘em before I actually needed ‘em.”

Enyd’s jaw tensed and her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth.

“Can I try them?” Sevika asked, stepping forward and picking one of the gauntlets up.

“You fight, too, huh?” Nasha purred, eyes raking up and down the other’s body. “Is that how you got that figure?”

“Um,” Sevika warbled, her blush returning yet again.

“Let’s get to business, actually,” Silco said, stepping up to the flour bag and cutting its rope with the knife he kept in his sleeve.

The already split bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, and the seams on one side gave. Flour poured out in a misty avalanche that made Enyd put a bereaved hand to her forehead.

“So, yer Nasha?” Vander said, settling his hips onto a crate. “Enyd said ye got some intel on a crooked Piltie?”

“They’re all crooked,” Silco muttered, coming to stand at his Brother’s side.

Vander’s skin prickled at his proximity. He both wished he had put his shirt back on – instead of using it as a towel – and he was glad for the one-less-layer of closeness.

Nasha’s gaze dropped and she walked forward, scuffing her pointed-toed shoes through the flour.

“You’re really going to try and secede from Piltover?” she asked finally.

The flirty mask she’d entered with fell, and she fixed the two men with a firm, demanding look beyond her years.

“Not try,” Silco corrected. “We will gain our independence from them.”

Nasha lifted her chin, regarding him carefully.

“My aunt and I settled in the Undercity about ten years ago,” she said. “We left Noxus because she disagreed with their . . . expansionist politics. With their brutality. Our coin only got us as far as Piltover. The Land of Progress, we had heard. We didn’t have the means to live on their gilded streets; we had to move into their slums. And we’ve never been able to get out. We traded one myopic nation for another.”

She paused, and then added, “I want this information to be put to good use. I want there to be progress on the other side of it.”

“And there will be,” Vander promised. “When Zaun stands together, there will be.”

Nasha seemed satisfied with this. She told the small group what she had imparted to Enyd a couple days prior, and more. She told them about this Topsider’s money problems. About how he was going to pay his gambling debts with stolen coin. About how he was forging curtains and documentation to cover his tracks. About how his ‘package’ would be sent via airship the week after next. And about how he would be securing a private crew to deliver said package.

Some details were still vague, or unknown. Despite this, Vander, Silco, and Sevika quivered with excitement, and Enyd listened carefully. Nasha promised to flush out as much information as she could, and would bring it to the next meeting of the Children of Zaun.

“Thank ye so much fer this, Nasha,” Vander said, his face creased with relief.

“I want a free nation as much as any Sump-born Trencher,” she said. “You should be thanking Ms. Enyd. She’s the one who got me here.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Sevika chuckled. “Silco had to get his passion and doggedness from somewhere.”

It was Enyd’s turn to blush. A light, delicate pink that glowed under her pale skin.

“I just want that money back in the hands . . . of Zaunites. Where it should be,” she said quietly.

The rest agreed.

“If ye want,” Vander said, turning back to Nasha, “if ye head back up t’the bar, Benzo’ll give ya a drink. On th’house. It’s the least we can do fer you.”

Their new member hummed thoughtfully, gently swaying side to side. She reached out and twirled a loose piece of hair from one of Sevika’s buns.

“Show me the way?”

Sevika gawked at her for a moment, before saying, “Yeah. Sure.”

Very overwhelmed and pleased, she led Nasha from the storeroom and up to the bar.

“They’re not of age, you know,” Silco said, elbowing Vander’s arm lightly.

The larger man did his best to seem unphased by the contact.

He tossed a hand carelessly through the air and said, “It’s fine. It’s not like Enforcers are comin’ in here t’card people anyway.”

He winked at his Brother.

Enyd’s mouth split in a proud smile, looking at the two men in front of her.

“The bar is too full of revolutionaries to fit any Enforcers in it anyway.”

Notes: Heeeeey! Hope you enjoyed the cuteness at the start of the chapter because things are gonna start to become less sweet here on out. Things are also gonna start to pick up, too! It's time for this revolution to kick it into high-gear. It's also about dang time for things to pick up between Silco and Kat, no?

If you've made it this far, please comment and reblog! Or visit my askbox. I'm dying to talk with you about this story. Hugs n' kisses!

Coming Up Next: Silco can't wait to tell somebody about this opportunity! Katya seems a good a person as any! The Academy Board makes their decision regarding Rynweaver's concerns. Katya and Heimerdinger go toe-to-toe

Next Chapter

Tag list: @dreamyonahill @pinkrose1422 @altered-delta @beardedladyqueen @truthandadare

#children of zaun #coz #arcane #arcane fanfic #silco #viktor #vander #sevika #benzo #silco fanfic #viktor fanfic #orginal characters #ocs #fanfiction

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