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mrxcreepypastamadness · 5 months ago

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What would I do for Sugar Rush Madness: B3 Remixed? It'll be much like the original Sugar Rush Madness V2, but with noticable differences such as Horror Zoey being the main standoff for B3. And all characters would be much different with their redesigns. No, it will not be all fortnite characters entirely, go home. But Zoey will still be included here only.

Here is the story:

It was some point around in May 1, 2018, the fortnite Zoey skin has been released after she was introduced for Season 4. Her rarity is epic, and her set is a Sweet Tooth outfit. There were about 19,732 wishlists and somehow she became popular as rumors to say that Zoey is a trap but it's not what you expect, it's neither a rant or discussion. it's just a silly meme series type of video made by cogstok from YouTube. But by the time until October 29th 2018, Zoey was officially disabled due to reasons of players using the outfit could use an exploit to become invisible, and most likely "partying issue". The item that is available for a limited time and will most likely "NEVER" come back. But the devolopers who worked on Fortnite don't realize that Zoey became a hellbent, vengeful, sentient character after being disabled as the copy of the game itself became altered. Herself, as well as the environment, is changed heavily, and Zoey's personality contrasts greatly from how she behaves in canon. Zoey has been disabled for over 3 decades until finding out that not only she found out she was replaced with a new Zoey skin, but also found out she has her own fan, a known rapper who was attracted to a known vampire. Finding out about this, Her console disk was shipped by a strange mailwoman to his house, then she drags them into the game, then challenges Bartholomew as a way to act on revenge on those for what happened years ago to accomplish one thing; killing a player who is unfortunately responsible enough for her deletion. Prepare for Zoey's revenge...she's coming for you.

Characters:

Candy Land Kingdom (Story Mode):

• Sweet Horror Zoey, aka Horror Zoey or simply Z, is the main antagonist of this story as as a replacement for Horror Vanellope from Sugar Rush Madness. While her original counterpart originates from the original Zoey skin, this one appears to be an amalgam between the aforementioned design and Nina the Killer. In Sugar Rush Madness B3 Remixed; Zoey is a vengeful, disabled, sentient fortnite character based on the events that happened before she became a sentient serial killer after one copy game has been altered into a horrific, harsh state. After 30 years disabled, Horror Zoey discovered a rapper and his vampire girlfriend and she went to get revenge on those who disabled her by locking them into her world of her very own hell she created to those unfortunate enough to be dragged in. She is the main opponent for It's-A-Me (Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed), Starpower Slaughter (Speedway Slaughter; B3 Remixed), and Battle-Stars (All-Stars; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed)

• B3 Carol is a police officer who is a victim of Horror Zoey. She appears in Starpower Slaughter in which it is implied that she refused to be her slave, and most likely trapped inside the game along with the others.

• Sweet Horror Frostine is a horrific version of Queen Frostine originating from Candy Land, serving as a replacement for Super Horror Wanda. She appears in the middle of Starpower Slaughter alongside Jolly.EXE, temporarily taking Horror Zoey's place. In Sugar Rush Madness: B3 Remixed, Horror Frostine was one of the many victims that inhabit the hacked Fortnite game disk. Along Jolly.EXE, she sabotaged and freezes Horror Zoey to death to warn Bartholomew and Shyaya to escape from this place just to protect them, both of whom are killed after a few turns of singing by a crazed victim. Horror Frostine's soul was absorbed to form Ultra Z.

• Jolly.EXE is a creepy version of Jolly who originates from Candy Land and inspired by the short horror game Yoshi.EXE. He appears alongside Horror Frostine during the middle of Starpower Slaughter, hitting the ground with a big "THUMP" to knock Horror Zoey off the cliff. In Sugar Rush Madness: B3 Remixed, Jolly.EXE is one of the many victims that inhabit the hacked Fortnite game disk. Jolly.EXE allied with Horror Frostine, rising against Horror Zoey by throwing her in a freezing lake to protect Bartholomew, however they were killed by a crazed lunatic of a victim. Lolly.EXE's soul was used to form Ultra Z.

• After their death, instead of Horror Zoey, a Third Victim is shown with a mutilated body, damaged clothes, his right arm missing, and a crazed anger expression on his face. He is the last opponent for the final part of Starpower Slaughter. In Sugar Rush Madness, a Third Victim has been trapped in the game for 20 years and yet these years of insanity is getting to him to the point where he loses it after being tortured by Horror Zoey. Which comes to the point where he confronted Bartholomew telling him to get the fuck out of here as possible, cause there ain't no way anyone would stand in his way trying to find the escape route.

Irregularity Ice Cream Island:

• Ellen Kennedy is a voice actor known for voicing Kyoko Ontonashi, Mane-iac, and Kaburu-kun/Cappy. She's also a voice actor for Grandma Nut. Take a visual walk through their career and see 142 images of the characters they've voiced and listen to 30 clips that showcase performance at behindthevoicesactors.com/Ellen-Kennedy/. She is the opponent for the song So Unique.

• Suzy Snacktime is a major character in the 2024 animated horror web series Kandyland. She's actually an animatronic clown wearing a clown outfit. One of Kandlyland's proprietary animatronics, she is a sentient robot well known for her kindness towards guests. Her speech and appearance are reminiscent of the 1960s waitresses. There was nothing controversial about her, but the show itself is controversial for the usage of NFTs. Suzy is the most prominent character in the show's advertising, to the point where the official YT channel was originally just making shorts for her. She's ultimately an amicable animatronic that gets brainwashed into malice by a virus, which she is conscious of and tries to stop. In the episode she stars in, she encounters a crying child. The implication is that she'll try to kill them, but instead comforts them. When the virus tries to make her attack them, she resists and cries for help. She is the opponent for the song Nurturing Innocence (Nourishing Blood; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Ms. Pinkie Mint is a combination of Mr. Mint and Pinkie Pie who starred in the infamously good crossover game of Candy Land. She is the opponent of the song Pinkie Fun and Dance Boogie 10 (Citrusella Sing and Game Rhythm 9; B3 Remixed).

Lollipop Woodland of Lies:

• Alpha Firehead is B3 Candlehead's appearance in the Game Over screen for the alpha version of Firehead's Castle, where he fails to save Markus (B3 Cakehead) and falls into a depressive episode and eventually slowly goes insane and snaps from her own frustration before committing suicide. She is the opponent for Suicide (Alone; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remix) referencing to Dejection and Unknown Suffering from Wednesday's Infidelity.

• Alpha Markus is a depiction of B3 Mark Papa (B3 Cakehead), after his fate was sealed by The Devil. He is a tormented soul of Alpha Firehead's brother, being a cry for help and dramatization of the his own deal of misfortune caused by The Devil himself. His appearance is strongly based from a child where he gets dragged down to hell like the opening from Drag Me To Hell, as well as simulating a tormented soul with his eyes are missing and his flesh burns.

• I LOATHE YOU Vanellope is a B3 swap replacement for I HATE YOU Tafftyta. In the alternate universe, Vanellope found out a revenge plan and she sent her murder guards to kill off Lord Licorice and his minions in order to confront her. Taffyta however feels so many regrets her revenge has failed, she then ends up defending herself by fighting each other in a sword battle, and eventually she accidently knocked her into Red Licorice lava, turning her into an undead living corpse. She is the opponent of the songs Oh Hell No (Oh Code No; B3 Remixed), and I Loathe You (I Hate You; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• The King is Watching You is a character based on a short lost episode creepypasta surrounding the unaired movie of Candy Land. This version of King Kandy rumors center mainly around the red text messages which many interpreted "After this, you're next." or "The king is watching you." This lead many to believe there was a bootleg version of a copy in some fashion. With the rise of popularity of VHS creepypasta rumors, more horrific versions of The King is Watching You were since created. He is the opponent of the song Vasiliaphobia. (Xocolactophobia; B3 Remixed)

• The Wazooigi Apparition is a floating painting of a Pastry Baker & Candy Maker, Wazooigi Von Warhead. It initially appeared during TobiKomi's Demo version of "Firehead's Castle" secret boss segment in E3 2001, chasing after Firehead for the impossible boss battle. Many years later, it was popularized by Firehead's Castle horror community due to a creepypasta that every copy of Firehead's Mansion is personalized, and there exists a cursed alpha version of the game in October 29, 2001. Allegedly, The Wazooigi Apparition materialized in not only Firehead's Mansion as well out of people's desires to see Wazooigi in the game, and it caused a horrific mental trauma upon those who saw it. He is the opponent in the song Apparition (Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Leatherfellope Von Massacre is an EXE as a B3 replacement of King Turmoil. She used to be a normal princess until she accidentally ingested the meat containing Leatherface's code. She has since turned into a cannibalistic serial killer who feeds upon her friends and enemies. She is the opponent for the song Final Course (Last Course; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Birthday Night Crumbilina is B3's main antagonist of the popular Skullgirls ROM Hack 'Squigly's, also known as "Birthday Night". One day, Crumbilina was invited to Squigly's birthday, only to be killed by Black Dahlia and her goons or she might've disappeared into a graveyard and was eaten alive by a mysterious zombie. She, or an undead zombie of the unknown origin, now inhabits the candycoated graveyard.

Content Cupcake Cosmos:

• Cute Cat Vanellope is a version of Vanellope from a YouTube video of the Sad Cat Dance meme by pi geon. In which Vanellope is animated over a Sad Cat Dance meme to make seem like she's making a cute dance. She is the opponent of the song Cute Cat. (Annoying Day; B3 Remixed)

• The Pasta Girls Trio are the 3 main characters based on the original Pasta Night comic dubs, from Friday Night Funkin' Lullaby and upcoming to my series, Bitches Night Out. For this series, King SS, a varient of Lord XX is a king of cards, a card dealer and poker expert, while JBX, A B3 varient of JB-BX is a sassy, punkass, rebellious woman who smokes weed while playing poker while being a bully and a bitch to B3 Gold just for the laughs, and Hypnasis, a B3 varient of Hypna is just an annoyed lady who broke up with his ex-boyfriend B3 Gold who is a whiny dipshit and a 35 year old manchild and is forced by B3 Gold's mother to take her ex, B3 Gold to go to the bar where she can hang out and play poker with her friends, however, she was rather late to the party because someone, such as B3 Gold wanted an "Ice water" instead of a beer and wouldn't stop whining about it and then poker started, however, the game ended early and calling it for the night, after B3 Gold to get bullied and fall to the ground after the lights went out after JBX used the POW block MX left behind. They appear for the song Night Out (Day Out; Pasta Night Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Secret Ending Vanellope is a version of Vanellope originating from a fanfiction If Vanellope Hasn't Been Kidding Around. She is a cold-hearted, ruthless princess who rules the Sugar Rush Kingdom with an iron fist, having to execute those whoever are mean to her, throwing Wreck-It-Ralph in the Fungeon for trying to stop her, and watch the racers that are executed suffer with her own amusement...Of course, The spirits of the dead racers always comes back. In Sugar Rush Madness: B3 Remixed, she presumably captured Bartholomew and Shaya to throw them in a Fungeon to be imprisoned for at least awile to avoid any screw-ups for her execution of the racers, but decides to execute them when she finds out that Bartholomew and his girlfriend are supposed to die in the name of Z. She is the opponent in the song Executioner (Dictator; Sugar Rush Mix: B3 Remixed).

• Evil Vanellope is the titular villain of the YouTube videos of Evil Vanellope gets Grounded series by GoAnimate. In Sugar Rush Madness: B3 Remixed, she has grown sick and tired of everyone around her grounding her for their excuses "stupid reasons" or "doing something very bad", and tries to murder Vanellope (and eventually everybody else) out of irrational hatred comparable to an actual evil villain. She is the opponent for

• Domination Vanellope is a "retake" based from Vanellope Von Schweetz from "Wreck-It-Ralph: Safe Mode" by SB99, and B3's main antagonist of the "Trojan Virus" series for the Domination Domain AU, which she is possessed by a trojan virus dragon, leading her to become hungry for the legion of evil and take over the entire world, stopping at nothing to eliminate those who attempt to defeat the dragon overlord, even if it means taking a bunch of lives of other ladies along the way. She is the opponent of the song Lost Hope (No Hope; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

Hellish Mountain Pass:

• GP is an EXE as a B3 varient of GV. She is based off of Vanette's appearance from a DeviantArt picture created by RavenEvert. She is specifically from a bootleg copy of Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, but her true origins are unknown. She likes to taunt with her victims who dare to play as her in the game, and use the secret dangerous power-ups to destroy the entirety of Mario Kart cast in order to be in 1st place. She can even manifest in the game itself and come into the real world. However, she choses not to kill the player, as she believes that would be a lesson to those who race against her. She is the opponent of the song Golden Road (Golden Rush; B3 Remixed).

• Lord Blackliquor is the B3 varient of DJ Hallyboo, a B3 replacement for BJ Harpyboo and the main antagonist of Candy Land DVD game Anti-Piracy series. As the normally unseen villain of Candy Land DVD game (and strange offshoot of Lord Licorice from Candy Land: The Great Lollipop Adventure), he resides in pirated copies of the game as a secret impossible boss in order to replace King Kandy teach pirates a painful lesson. He is the opponent of the song No Party (Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Ms. Xbox or Ms. X is a horrorbrew of a B3 varient of Mr. Virtual, and a B3 replacement for King Virtual inspired by Hotdiggedydemon's Brain Dump character known as Burnbot, and the antagonist of the upcoming horror series The Evil Eye of the Green Poltergeist. Once a female, human serial killer simply known as X, she was gunned down by Officer Michael Kawasaki near a display stand for the Xbox Console at E3 1995. Her spirit now haunts the Xbox after she died after using voodoo as her soul transfer; waiting for unsupervised victims to play the console so she can mentally torture them and use their skin as a vessel with which to kill Officer Michael Kawasaki. She is the opponent of Monomania (Paranoia; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Ms. P is the main antagonist of Candy Land: Too Late, an EXE game inspired by Too Late.EXE and a B3 replacement for Ms. L. After Ms. Pepper was accidentally killed by Mr. Mint with a peppermint axe, she became a horrific, demented spirit and tormented and tormented his brother with creepy, strange and grotesque visions, eventually killing him into the same peppermint axe Pepper died long ago. She is the opponent of the song Pastdue (Overdue; Sugar Rush Mix: B3 Remixed).

• C.L.A.W. is the B3 varient and replacement of JB-BX, and the main antagonist of Wreck-It-Ralph '112 a new take on the concept of Anti-Piracy heavily inspired by Anti-Piracy Screens. Sitting with an abandoned pirated bootleg copy of the first Wreck-It-Ralph movie, The movie starts out just like the original just before Ralph is met with Vanellope Von Schweetz, the glitch who wants to win the race, but things are about to escalate quickly later on after Officer C.L.A.W was introduced. C.L.A.W. scares the viewers who dare to play the movie and shockingly she killed off Vanellope after she got caught up with them and impaled her with a pike so she can never be allowed to race ever again, simply following the execution orders from King Candy himself, then she handcuffed Ralph for helping her bake a kart and lock him up in the Fungeon for the rest of eternity before it ended with not only with a bad ending, but Fix-it-Felix Jr. has been unplugged which makes the nicelanders and even Fix-it Felix himself homeless without Ralph around, but eventually they found out Ralph is actually locked up for all eternity, then it ended with the end credits, after the end credits rolled, they'll end up with a shocking Anti-Piracy Screen that can break the 4th wall talking the viewer menacingly. As an Anti-Piracy officer, she takes things personally to those who try to watch for free. She would call the authorities knowing what the piracy viewers have done. She is the opponent of the songs Piracydown (Powerdown; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed), and Termination (Demise; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

Classified Licorice Castle:

• King Candy, also known as Announcement King Candy, is the host of a supposedly cancelled video game "Sugar Rush Kart: Ultimate Circuit" in The SECRETS of Sugar Rush Speedway universe. He is the first opponent of the song Announcement (Promotion; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• The artificial intelligence of the Sugar Rush Speedway VHS, created under the name auto_sentient, also known as Stanford, is the main villain of "The SECRETS of Sugar Rush Speedway" series, a series of videos based on the Mario Kart creepypastas. He is the second opponent for the song Announcement (Promotion; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Secret Snowanna is a B3 replacement of Classified Adorabeezle for the "The SECRETS of Sugar Rush Speedway" horror web series. She only appears in "08.03.96" where she is hardly missed by a lot of people due to appearing for awile. She appears from the Candy Castle Circuit in the abandoned "city hall" area where she crawls like a zombie in front of the central fountain.

• VANELLOPE is an anomalous Disneyland costume with a mysterious backstory. Just when Bartholomew and Shaya think they've reached the end of the road stopping there where Disneyland is located on the final destination on the map, they have fun on the rides, watch the parades, and they took a small picture to celebrate! However...is that a Disneyland costume moving on its own?! Is it really haunted...? Have they reached "The End?" She is the opponent of the song The End (Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

Mega City (Finale):

• Ultra Z is mostly just Sweet Horror Zoey fused with the other characters because she absorbs them into her final form. None of the characters die, but they're still slaves to Zoey. But eventually her revenge won't even last long without a long confrontation. She appears in Act 1 & Act 4 of Battle-Stars (All-Stars; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Delta is an EXE based on Sugarsweet Zoey, and a B3 version of Omega and replacement for Rambo, Delta is possibly a demon, as it was revealed that she is an "offshoot" belonging to Horror Zoey, a sentient, demonic entity. Delta has more "Harley Quinn-like" personality, with them citing Harley Quinn from DC Superhero Girls as an example. She's also stated that Delta can be a little silly some times. She was created by Ultra Z to distract Bartholomew. She appears in Act 2 of Battle-Stars (All-Stars; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed).

• Mr. M is a minor B3 antagonist in Battle-Stars (All-Stars; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed). He is the minion of Delta, created to distract Bartholomew while Ultra Z staked Shaya to the heart.

• L0RD is the minor B3 antagonist in Battle-Stars (All-Stars; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed). He is the minion of Delta, created to distract Bartholomew while Ultra Z staked Shaya to the heart.

• JO77Y is a minor antagonist in Battle-Stars (All-Stars; Sugar Rush Mix; B3 Remixed). He is the minion of Delta, created to distract Bartholomew while Ultra Z staked Shaya to the heart.

• After Battle-Stars Act 2, Shyaya then is the opponent in Act 3 after being killed and reanimated as CS by Ultra Z.

Bonus (WIP):

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years ago

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Mine Now 2

PART 1

TW: Cheating. Smut. Language.

SUMMARY: Rafe reminds you that you belong to him and only him.

WORD COUNT: 1100

REQUESTED

Mine Now 2

You couldn't look her in the eye just to the same extent you couldn't stop looking into his. But both would overlap and contradict one another as you were a mess of guilt and desire . As her hand would rest on your leg beneath the table of the country club, your focus would fall to him as he would already be undressing you with his eyes. And when you would allow yourself to smirk, he took this as validation, only to be angered when you would deny him the acceptance of the invitation he offered every night. And this was because you regretted it. No matter how badly you wanted an encore, your guilt had swallowed you whole. So much so that you began to make every excuse to avoid them both.

Which is what brought you beneath the cascade of a warm shower. This was always your way of relieving your stresses. The sordid events only acting as your recent need for this ease as you were able to focus on the feeling of the water in opposition to your emotional tribulations. But rather quickly, your mind drew lustful. The feeling of fingers in place of the water having warranted a thoughtless moan before your visions drove your hand between your legs. The pulsation was too deep and the need was too great-

"You think I wouldn't find you?" His voice forced your eyes open as a hand around your neck stationed you against him as a second forced your fingers to continue. "You think I won't come take what's mine?"

"I-"

"To take care of what's mine? Apparently you need a reminder." He had you turned against the shower, the handle pulling to open as Sarah’s vocie summoned you from the rivaling side.

"Baby? Can I come in?"

"Get rid of her." He was on his knees before you could object, your leg taken over his shoulder as he made good on his initial words of how a first time with him would be. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as his tongue mimicked the motion over your clit until Sarah’s voice reminded you that you weren't technically alone.

"Im fine! I'm-" You gasped, clenched teeth making you temporarily mute before you managed to collect yourself enough to speak to her once more, validating your well-being.

"You're gonna come for me." Rafe interrupted you.

"Stop, please."

"It wasn't a request." He stood over you again, fingers battering into you, pulling your release to the forefront as your eyes screwed shut.

"Baby?"

"I'm coming!" You snapped as she commented in some sarcastic response you couldn't focus on as you had Rafe's thick fingers bringing you to ride his hand.

"You only come on my cock-" He wouldn't need to convince you or threaten you as you wrapped a leg over his hip and he lifted the other one around him. You were taken around him as he groaned into your shoulder, teeth threatening a bite to which he wouldn't commit, before your back arched against him.

"She doesn't deserve this...And she won't get it again-" His hand wrapped around your throat.

"Say it." Your eyes widened as he tightened his grip, your inner walls pulsating for the rush every bit of this aesthetic offered you as you were stilled.

"Say it or you don't get to come."

"Yours. I'm yours." He nodded.

"And you're gonna make me come because you're mine. You're gonna let me take you over that sink after I make you come in here because you're mine. And you're gonna be the dutiful little girlfriend to her but only let me touch you because...why?"

"I'm yours." He removed his hand from your neck before nodding.

"And when the time is right, we'll make it official. But for now, you're gonna let me have you whenever. However. Because you need it just as badly as I want it." He took a renewed pace into his thrusts, steady but stable enough to speak behind them.

"You will come to my room every night. I know you can't sleep next to her anyway...so pathetic..." He scoffed before quickening inside of you. "And I'll tire this pussy out so badly that even if she were to be possessed, you'd sleep through it." He smiled at the thought.

"And every time, you'll smile for her. You'll let her touch you lovingly. But you won't let her touch what's mine." He bowed into you, relinquishing himself as you were quick to follow. But as you expected to be set flat, you were taken to the vanity. Careful steps to keep from slipping would still before the mirror.

"See 2hy I can't keep my hands to myself? Look how fucking beautiful you look after you come..." He forced you to witness your lust blown completion and tangled hair, swollen lips, and wide gaze, before moving his hand between your legs.

"Just so we're clear, she doesn't get to touch where I get to come..." He spun you to face him, making you gasp.

"Here..." He explained while applying a soft amount of pressure to your sex.

"And here..." He rounded your nipples, making your breath hitch, before rising still until resting at your mouth.

"And especially here..." When you went to speak, he took hold of your jaw and forced a passionate kiss to your lips.

"Next time, I'll have you take me in this shower on your knees while she is five feet away. But for right now..." He turned you back to the vanity.

"I'm gonna come for me now...for making me wait-" He slapped your ass, making you turn towards the door in horror.

"Rafe-"

"Good luck explaining to her while your ass is all red..." He hit again. "Such a pretty shade of it, too."

"Please be quiet..." His second hand pulled your hair until your head was against his chest.

"You are gonna take it how I give it and say thank you. Because you're mine. And my girl doesn't whine unless it's for my cock-" His breath came to your ear, "And you don't even have to beg for it, just take it-" He thrust into you again, beginning another series of edged orgasms reaching the longer climax, all while you fought to remain silent. Your head left in a spin against his motions as you returned to that mix of desire and guilt.

"Have a nice shower?" Sarah teased as she sat on the edge of the bed in waiting as you looked back, aware Rafe was still behind, waiting for you to return to him as you left with her…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @belcalis9503

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #outerbanks #obx fanfiction #obxsmut #outer banks smut #obx

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tales-of-the-squidbeak-splatoon · 8 months ago

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Ask-blog Rules!

_____________________________________________

1. No Harassment of Any Kind!

This includes bugging me to draw asks, to hurry up with posting or bug me about stuff outside the Tales of the Squidbeak Splatoon ask blog. This is purely for fun, and my schedule is sporadic. You will get content for the blog when I feel like I can make it. This rule also discourages NSFW, triggering content, inappropriate material and unreasonable hate. Sending asks or art with any of this content will be deleted.

2. Do not ask about the female versions of the agents.

This blog is dedicated to Cobalt, Ace, Brutus and Takko. They are MY version of the agents, they are the one’s canon to this blog and only this blog. If you’re looking for the girls, I’m sure there’s plenty of other artists out there with wonderful art and stories with them you can find elsewhere.

3. Cobalt, Ace, Takko and Brutus ARE NOT THE CANON INTERPRETATION

They’re customization, playable characters. I’m just one of those weirdos who likes to project onto my player character and give them their own personalities. My in game profile has been roleplaying as Brutus all year. I just want to share the stories because I find them fun.

There is no one true canon version of any of the playable agents. These four are just one version of a million different ones out there and we’re just here to have fun.

4. Do not use the submission box to send asks.

The submission box is for fan art, and I will leave it open even when asks are closed so you can send fan art any time if you feel so inclined! I greatly appreciate if you find these characters charming enough to draw! Though if the submission box gets flooded when asks when they’re closed, I might have to turn it off temporarily to ensure I don’t get flooded with more than I can work with at once.

5. Tales of the Squidbeak Splatoon is not associated with Nintendo in any way.

This ask blog is completely non-profit and purely just for fun. Please support the official release of Splatoon related content.

6. Spoiler Alert!

Tales of the Squidbeak Splatoon is NOT spoiler free! This includes the Side Order DLC! Spoilers will be tagged until a good few months after Side Order has been out to give everyone a chance to play it for themselves.

7. Enjoy the Show!

This blog is made purely for fun, so I hope you have fun too!

#rules page #Tales of the Squidbeak Splatoon #ask blog #important announcements

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dracolunae · 2 years ago

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BEE DYING OF AN LSD OVERDOSE.... incredible. All those comics are cool ty for the go-over! It's really cool how they had a fan creator join the official team :]] most of what I know about sonic is from this cartoon my family had on dvd as a kid called sonic uhhhhhh I don't remember but it had sonic like have two siblings and they were royalty but then got orphaned and became like a band. It sure was.

It's really cool to learn about the other aspects!! :D could you tell me about silver? His design is really cool

Sonic Underground! It was made by the same people as SatAM and AoStH but at a later time! It sure was something but I’m still kinda miffed it just got cancelled mid everything so there was never a conclusion to the story.

Silver!! My boi!!

Silver first originated in the game Sonic the Hedgehog, more commonly known as Sonic 06! This game was meant to be an epic 15th anniversary semi-reboot of the series, with updated designs, a new art direction and next gen graphics. The game was incredibly rushed though and ended up buggy dumpster fire that retconned itself in the end, but the one shining star it game us was Silver! (And a banging soundtrack! I attached the main character themes as examples)

In Sonic 06, Silver has Psychic powers that allow him to use psychokinesis to move objects and fly. He comes from the future, about 200 years from Sonic’s timeline and lives in an Apocalyptic world ravaged by a giant fire spirit known is Iblis, which can be knocked down temporarily but never truly defeated. Silver and his best friend Blaze the Cat roam the fiery skyscraper wastelands of the future to defeat Iblis each time he reappears. (I should note, Blaze did not first appear in this game. She had her own game she co-starred with Sonic in, Sonic Rush, in which she is a flame wielding princess from another world called the Sol Dimension where she guards her dimension’s version of the Chaos Emeralds. The only thing in common here is that 06 Blaze also has fire powers. Apparently 06 was supposed to tie into Rush but it got scrapped mid development)

Silver despairs about how they can never beat Iblis until an incredibly evil looking dude called Mephiles shows up, offering Silver a way to stop Iblis for good, by changing the past. He shows Silver an image of Sonic surrounded by fire, telling him that this blue hedgehog is the trigger for Iblis’ release. Silver and Blaze get sent into the past to go kill Sonic but get separated. Silver spots Sonic from a roof but gets blocked by number 1 Sonic fangirl Amy Rose, who really needs to get glasses because she keeps getting her hedgehogs mixed up. She glomps Silver, slaps him for not being Sonic, then drags him off to help her find Sonic after which she’ll help Silver find that guy he’s looking for. Silver and Amy eventually find Sonic, at which point Silver almost kills Sonic before Amy steps in and Silver ends up having a crisis about the morality of murdering someone to save the future. Blaze arrives and tells him they can’t just do nothing because that guarantees their future stays fucked so Silver goes to try to kill Sonic a second time except this time Shadow swoops in to stop him. I should note, Mephiles (evil dude from earlier) looks identical to Shadow because he ate Shadow’s… shadow. So he’s just a greyscale version with no mouth. Silver goes “What the fuck Mephiles” and Shadow kicks him in the head. Then they go to the past so Shadow can show Silver what Mephiles’ real deal is (surprise he’s evil and also one half of the god Solaris, the other being Iblis). Silver, having now seen the Original sealing of Iblis and how to time travel at will using Chaos Emeralds, goes back to the Future with Blaze and tries to seal Iblis inside of himself. This does not work because soul bonding with an ancient fire god has standards and not just anyone will do. Blaze reasons “I have fire powers, this is a fire spirit, let me try!” This works and Blaze asks Silver to seal her and Iblis in another Dimension but Silver can’t do it because he would be losing his only friend in the world, Blaze tells him he’ll be okay and fades out of existence. We do not have a canon explanation for what this means for her, but commonly accepted fanon is that she sealed herself away and when all of time and space reboots itself st the end of the game that somehow forms the Sol Dimension, leading into Sonic Rush.

The issue with all of what I just told you is the aforementioned end game reboot, where all the events of the game literally never happen. This meant that after this game we didn’t really know what was gonna happen with Silver. But never fear! Shitty PSP racing games are here! Sonic Rivals for the Playstation Portable was released not long after 06 and features a different version of Silver, who is trying to stop an evil descendant of Eggman, known as Eggman Nega feom fucking shit up. This Silver has not been to the past before and knows none of the other characters, so essentially we’re starting from 0 again! This game was followed by Sonic Rivals 2, an equally meh game but once again featuring Silver! During these games, Silver becomes friends with the rest of the cast, especially Espio the Chameleon (afaik they kinda bond at the end of the second game over letting Eggman Nega rot in what is effectively hell)

Silver then makes a few sparse appearances as an unlockable character in various games’ multiplayer modes, such as the Riders games and Sonic and the Black Knight. He also made a small appearance in Sonic Colours for the DS, specifically being paired up again with Blaze, who is once again the princess of the Sol Dimension. They do not know each other but feel a certain draw to each other, both being not from around here in a way. They would later be shown paired up frequently in various games, including the olympics spinoffs, Sonic Generations and Team Sonic Racing. Similarly, they’re depicted as decently close friends in the IDW comics, where they can frequently be seen together!

Silver is younger than Sonic, being about 14 and a bit more naive, though he’s a good kid. He is very serious at first, both in 06 and the Rivals games, because he isn’t friends with any of these people and also trying to prevent an apocalypse, but he’s lightened up quite a bit in more recent iterations! He can be a bit overzealous and loud but he also has lots of moments of just revelling in the nature and people of the past, having grown up in an apocalypse. He loves gardening because it feels like he’s helping bring more life into the world

His design is also just really cool, with the boots and the gorgeous colour scheme! His shoe soles are some of my favourites design-wise, they have little turquoise hexagons! (Yes, shoe soles can be a fairly intricate part of a character’s design, even if they’re rarely seen on most characters. Silver is an exception because he loves floating everywhere hshdhdhd)

Silver has a slightly different story in the Archie comics, still very in line with his 06 origins but tailored to the comics. He comes from a ravaged future with only 2 other people who mentor him. His self imposed mission in the past is to find the traitor that is supposedly behind the Freedom Fighters, Sonic’s friend group/allies, falling apart and leaving the world in ruin. He keeps coming back with kinda shoddy evidence, accusing one of Sonic’s friends of being the traitor and is continuously proven wrong, until he stakes his time travel ability on another wrong traitor. He accuses Sonic’s friend Antoine of being the traitor, to which Sonic drags him by the quills to show him Antoine, in a coma after being severely injured while fighting Eggman. At this point Silver is stuck in the past and becomes friends with a few other outliers, like a reformed version of Metal Sonic and Nicole, the city’s AI whom the populace is starting to mistrust due to her artificial nature being reminiscent of Eggman’s entire schtick. Later on time portals start popping up at random, and Silver tasks himself with finding and closing them, as leaving them open could have catastrophic consequences. From this point he pops in occasionally with a time portal to help out the current timeline, slowly creating a better and better future.

#friendly visitors #my beloveds came to talk

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paraquefuncionaelvpn · 7 months ago

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ofaheadstronghealer · 4 years ago

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Alma Bio

I know we have official bios but until that was posted I thought I’d temporarily post this to help with interactions, please feel free to message me if you have any ideas for plots or connections or what have you! :)

FULL NAME: Alma

AGE: 36

OCCUPATION: Healer/Slave

CHARACTER TRAITS: (+ Clever +Kind Hearted , -Headstrong - Insecure )

LABEL: The Phoenix

GENDER + PRONOUNS: Cis-female, she/her

BIO

(trigger warning: implied sexual assault)

Alma, an unusual name for an unusual girl. There has not been a moment in her life that could be described as ‘typical’ or ‘normal’, perhaps that is why for most of her life being normal had been something she’d craved so desperately until she would come to understand the true power in being different from the rest. Something her mother had always understood.

Alma was born a fatherless child. Not literally, of course, but in the sense that the man who is her father was not her mother's husband nor was his identity ever known to the girl or to the others in the village in which she grew up. Being branded a ‘bastard’ was her first taste of this ‘otherness’ that she would come to experience her whole life, being the daughter of a woman who was suspected by many of being a witch….well that certainly didn’t help matters. When Alma thinks on it now she finds proof that God has a sense of humor, how hard she fought to be unlike her mother and yet how like her she later became. Alma isn’t a witch, not one of the barbarians ‘Volvas’ or one of their ‘seers’, and neither was her mother before her but that mattered little to the townspeople she grew up around. They were pariahs for her whole childhood, ostracized by the community until one of their people needed a healer with skill unmatched by any other and then only under the most dire of circumstances would they accept them with open arms. Alma wouldn’t realize that until she was much older, a naïve thing desperate for acceptance she would bask in it no matter what the price for as long as it lasted. Sometimes at night she would kneel before her bed and pray, pray to god to show the truth of her innocence to the people so that she might live among them as kin and not be regarded with such fear. The first time God answered her prayers she was but the tender age of 14 and she was shown his power...as well as his cruelty. Had she known the price that God would make her pay for her freedom she would have been more specific in her prayers, would have extended the prayer to her mother as well but alas she was selfish as children so often are and did not think of such things. A life for a life, her mother's death for her freedom. She still remembers the way her mother’s hand felt upon her cheek before they brought her to the pyre, remembers the tremble in her voice as, for the last time, her mother told her that she loved her. Alma was forced to bear witness to her mother's death, forced to stand there as she was engulfed in flame and pleading for her life. Suddenly acceptance didn’t matter so much to Alma, all she wanted in that moment was her mother back.

The years following her mother's passing were difficult in many ways and brought many changes, on one hand she was welcomed back into the community as a show of the villagers' mercy but on the other she was an orphaned girl with no family and no prospects. Her mother had not raised her as a proper lady, she was not educated in the things a girl should be and though everyone around her agreed she was beautiful she was far too clever and her reputation too marred to make a suitable wife for anyone ‘such a waste of a beautiful girl’ they’d mutter as though that were supposed to make Alma feel appreciated. Perhaps other women if put in her position would have simply bowed to fate but not Alma, she had too much of her mother in her for that. If she had no use as a wife then she would find another way to have use, to make herself indispensable so she could not be so easily cast aside. In what she would later realize was a bold move she became a healer like her mother before her though unlike her mother she was more careful in how she was perceived, cautious to never show up the men around her, to curb her clever tongue, and to never perform acts that could be considered miracles and later used against her. She couldn’t really say in any sincerity that she was truly happy but it was as close as she’d ever gotten, she was valued and though people looked at her sometimes with pity it was better than the terror she had become accustomed to in her youth. If only she’d been able to save her mother than perhaps it would have been perfect. Alma lived this way in the village for many years, alone but accepted as much as she could be. That all changed the day they showed up.

The day of the raid was like any other, Alma had been making her rounds attending to the villagers when she heard the screams. At first the healer thought it was simply in her head, it wasn’t unusual for the painful memory to surface; it had been haunting her for years, but it grew in its volume and intensity and soon it became clear to her that they were not the screams she remembered hearing as a child. Of course they’d all heard of the Vikings and their ways, how they would often raid and pillage and kill everything in sight, but as every other town did they never thought they would be targeted. She was still in the house of a patient when it happened, the person too weak to realize what was going on and certainly too weak to fend for themselves. Alma is no saint, she will not deny if asked that there was a moment when she simply considered running and trying to save herself but one look at the pathetic state of the woman laying there and her mind was purged of that thought. She could not abandon her. Alma helped the other woman to the back of the house, hid both herself and the woman in a dark pantry not easily seen and for the first time in a very long time Alma prayed ‘Please God protect us, see us through this, save us’. God answered Alma much like he had the time before, granting her her wish but always with a twist. The Vikings that crashed through the house at first appeared as though mindless beasts that had not the capacity to think beyond destruction and for just a moment Alma thought herself and the woman safe. She was made aware of how wrong she was when rough hands tore her from the safety of the pantry, a foreign tongue that she couldn’t understand flooded her ears but she understood the tone well enough. The only thing that got her through the assault that followed was the sight of the other woman, frail but still hidden. Safe.

Alma doesn’t remember much about the journey that led her to Hedeby, she tries not to think about it. She can recall her captors dragging her back to show the horde their prize, remembers her feeble escape attempt just before they threw her on one of their boats. The rest of the voyage was not memorable, she kept her head down as much as possible on the boat and simply listened. Though she could not understand all of what was being said at some point in the journey she managed to make out that they were going to one of their cities, a place they called ‘Hedeby’. Alma was not certain what to expect, what would become of all those they had taken including herself? Would they be killed? Sold? The thought was frightening but she did not let it overwhelm her, simply continuing to listen and do as the Vikings bid. When Alma was brought to what appeared to be an open market in chains with the others she stood silently as they were inspected by the market goers. As time passed and the other villagers were distributed it became clear to the healer exactly the position she was in, she had always been a slight thing and while that had not been looked at negatively back home it was becoming clear that as a slave she was probably the most unappealing of the bunch. Death, it seemed, would be the escape that God would deliver her. It was not to be so. Much to her own surprise she was bought by what appeared to be a family of little means meaning that they had little to trade and therefore she was the only one they could afford, the man looked brutish, as they all did, but was not unkind in his handling of her. She was in their service for a few years, quietly observing the customs and language of these strange people with whom she now resided, but knew it would not last, she was a healer not a farmer and unsuited for the physical labour demanded of her and every day she grew weaker. It was a miracle of God when one day as she was working the fields a man emerged from the forests and collapsed before her clearly wounded, it was pure instinct when Alma leapt into action. Over the next few days there grew a small gathering of Vikings who watched as she tended to the man, they appeared intrigued by her methods some of which were unknown to them. Unknown to Alma the man she eventually ended up saving was someone that the King of these Vikings held as a very dear friend, King Ragnar demanded Alma be brought to him at once. Alma entered the great halls of the Viking King with the family that had bought her but she did not leave with them, word spread not long after of the healer from a foreign land who was now under the ownership of the King.

That was many years ago and much about Alma has changed, she still bears the status of slave under King Ragnar and his family but as their personal healer she is treated with a great deal more respect than most slaves. Though sometimes she finds herself longing for the familiarity of her old home Alma has managed to settle somewhat among the Vikings and has found respect for some aspects of the way they live their lives and is, in some ways, more herself here than she ever was back at home.

EXTRAS

- Due to how her mother died and having been forced to watch it Alma has a deep and intense fear of fire.

- She can fully understand the Vikings language but she still cannot fully speak it

- When first she arrived at Hedeby Alma was incredibly quiet but since being raised to the royals personal healer and over the years becoming more settled she has let more of her true personality come through, she has a clever tongue and a headstrong nature and does not feel she’s in such a precarious position anymore that she must hide those things though she is still cautious with who she shows it to

- Although she acts like she’s over the whole wanting to be accepted and loved thing she is very much not over it and longs for a feeling of home and belonging and love.

- At first she hated the Vikings and saw them as brutes and barbarians but now for the most part she has let go of that view though there are still moments where she considers them beasts

- One of the first things she noticed and loved about the Viking culture was how they treated their women, coming from a place where she was only looked at as a thing of value through marriage and the fact that she had a brain frowned upon she was secretly impressed at the freedoms Viking women were afforded.

#Bio #temporarily here until the official one gets released :)

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ronearoundblindly · 3 years ago

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Do You Two...Fondue? (12)

Summary: Steve is looking for something until he's caught off-guard. (No warnings on this one except for some suggestive language.)

Man With A Plan, Part Two (see previous or series)

Tony’s on the phone giving him the combination for the classic lock on the storage room door. It was probably a deliberate choice made by Howard half a lifetime ago, and Tony, whether out of respect or ignorance, never upgraded the entrance.

“Ok, got it,” Steve says, yanking down the spinner to release the lightly rusted clasp, “thanks.”

“Dare I ask what you’re hoping to find in there, pal?”

“Well, if Howard never inventoried this, I may find—“ the room is covered in thick dust “—nothing.”

“Hasn’t been touched since the Smithsonian strip-mined your wares for posterity…”

Steve taps his toe to a box, hoping it doesn’t evaporate into a cloud of dust and cause a mini-avalanche. “I can see that, Tony. I’ll call if I need anything.” A heaving sigh precedes the hangup.

He’s looking for something very specific and very, very small. If he can’t find it in this mess, it’s not the end of the world because Steve already assumes it was really lost seventy some-odd years ago when the SSR reclaimed all his possessions. If Bucky hadn’t ‘died’ before Steve, his friend would absolutely have kept Sarah Rogers’ ring safe, seeing as he heard her tell the story over meatloaf at the Rogers’ house before she got sick.

Joseph and Sarah Rogers married without two red pennies to rub together, or at least, neither was willing to spend what little they had on a wedding ring more than temporary tin. When Steve was born, Joe bought Sarah a garnet ring, which is red like ruby, for a July birthday, but much more affordable. His mom would touch that ring all the time. Steve can even remember that she’d talk to it from time to time, to let Joe know they were doing ok, to let him know how wonderful their son was.

A huge portion of the stuff in the room is meaningless to Steve, but when he hits an item he does recognize, it’s like taking a bullet. He has to sit down and relive years of things he’d forgotten, and he’s covered in dirt by the end.

The obvious turning point to the tedious and overwhelming task at hand is when Steve moves an ancient duffel of clothes aside, but the clank of metal sounds as he drops it to the floor. Beneath his original clothing, threadbare things three sizes too small (which was baggy on him then), is a metal box from the TB ward—his mom’s personal effects.

As he lifts it out, he hears stuff rattling around. Steve knows that he never actually brought himself to open it, even back in the day. For all he knows, Sarah was buried wearing the ring he hopes to find. Her coffin was not open.

He swivels the clasp until the lid pops open, and the first thing he thinks is it’s not here. His fingers swish around the contents until a makeshift fabric pouch pokes out, hand-sewn shut out of what feels like bedsheet. Steve rips it open and dumps three things into his palm: two small clip-on earrings and garnet ring set in gold.

He wasn’t expecting the flood of appreciation that knocks his insides around until he secures the ring on the second knuckle of his pinky, kisses the cool stone, and whispers, “I found her, ma.”

The search for the ring took so long that he’s not back at HQ until well after dark. Your cast came off a few days ago, and you are officially home enjoying alone time. Or, so you’re supposed to be until he opens the door to find you laying like a plank on his couch, an intense, wide-eyed gaze staring at the ceiling.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. How long have you been waiting?”

“A couple hours.” Your tone is flat as a pancake.

He clutches at his pocket where the ring is temporarily held until he can get to his desk that’s right beside you for a box that will work well. “I’m sorry. How was the day?”

“It should have been great,” you bark, sitting up quickly, attention lined up with Steve’s move to the desk, so he can’t finish the transfer. “I was up for a promotion. Did you know that?”

“That’s awesome.” He plants himself behind the rocking chairs to sorta cover him from the waist down, hoping nothing in his pockets is visible. “Bruce says nothing but good things about your work. I’m sure you’ll get—“

“No.” You put a finger up. “I won’t. I won’t be getting a promotion because I’m dating an Avenger, and Bruce Banner is an Avenger. So my boss is your teammate, and therefore, I cannot have possibly earned the job without this connection.” You’re face is scrunched in bitter anger and you stand to approach, dismissively flicking your wrist between the two of you.

He’d say your range of motion appears to be coming along great, but it’s not the time. “I doubt it matters tha—“

“I can’t accept it now,” you scream, though the volume is weakened by the buildup of rage closing your throat. You lift your head to stop tears falling. “I already told Bruce to take me out of the running.”

“Keeps, woah.” Though he’s torn, Steve rounds the chair to steady your flailing body. “I’m sure it’s—“

“You can’t do anything, Steve. You cannot do anything without making this worse. If you so much as talk to someone about it, you’re pulling strings, and suddenly they are right!”

Both of your fists are pressed to your face. You’re right, too, of course, because you can see what Steve doesn’t even look for. He can’t do anything, and the one thing he has done so far was a mixed bag at best.

Yes, the story, the photo, the symbolism had the desired effect of turning the public’s interest in you positive, but the frustration didn’t all just go away. They’ve still asked if you’re pregnant. Still asked if you want kids and Steve’s kids and how many and when. Doesn’t matter what the answer is because it’s none of their goddamn business. However, not since that horrendous Norm-grooming-you article has your professional integrity been questioned, and Steve knows work is a hard line in the sand for you.

Never insult Keeps’ intelligence. Ever. She will eviscerate you. This is known.

It’s because tears finally fall that Steve pulls you to his chest and wraps you up tight. He can’t help it.

“I was part of the dream team once,” you cry, wiping your face, fighting not to relax, fighting to stay serious, “and now I’m just some fat idiot who sleeps her way to the top.” You utter this nonsense at your lowest points on your darkest days. Steve’s heard it only twice, how scathing and vicious you get, and it horrifies him to see from the other side.

He’d be a hypocrite to tell you to ignore it; he listens to all these things, too, but where he has thicker skin, time, and training on his side, you went from one person on one of the seventeen different lab teams in the building to recognized and judged by billions of people overnight. The betrayal you feel that of your teammates think you cheated in some way must run deep because those are the people who know you and see the work you do. How could they believe this? It makes Steve want to go give the lot of them a piece of his mind, but, you’re right of course, he can’t.

It’s all he can do, however, to hold you here in the privacy of his rooms. At this moment, he’s a liability to the rest of your life it seems.

The only movement you’ve made in his arms is to tuck your forehead in against his sternum and sigh. It is not the perfect-hug sigh. Steve moves one hand to your hair and gives it a few lazy scratches just how you like.

You finally relent and rest your arms around his waist for a proper hug, but Steve can’t relax all the way because this position leaves your hand very close to his pocket, and if you roll your hip just an inch to the side, you’ll feel the curve of the stone poke.

So here he finds himself in quite the predicament. You have a serious and legitimate concern that has upset you, but in order to keep his intentions a secret, he can’t comfort you properly with his clothes on. He briefly considers distracting you with touch but that diminishes the significance of your predicament as well as cheapening intimacy with you. Steve still can’t find a way to explain himself that doesn’t make him feel like he’s back on the Coney Island Cyclone.

What he’s learned over the years is that the serum made him a super-soldier, but it specifically remade his body to fight and survive in battle. That’s not the same as enhancing his life. It just means he can stay alive more easily and for longer. Steve’s condition makes him strong and less susceptible to pain, and unfortunately, less sensitive to touch in general, but he has significantly more control over his body which looks like he’s being less responsive.

It’s not a problem that matters to anyone except him and Bucky on the entire planet. Lucky for Bucky, he doesn’t mind a bit of rough loving (even from before all that physical torture). Steve does mind. A lot. Any advice Bucky has on sex is really not Steve’s type of sex, so he’s left with no one else on the planet who can relate to this particular problem. Not that he’d want to talk about this with anyone else on the planet, considering how long it’s taken him to even talk to you about it.

Of course, he thinks about you. Of course, he thinks about sex. How he could turn thought into action without ruining everything is the tricky bit. The strength he has means he bruised your thigh simply by forgetting control for an instant on the couch, and Steve is ashamed. He clearly has to plan his actions better or you’ll end up hurt.

It was one of those pivotal moments in his life, seared straight onto his heart like a brand: you wanted him to really hug you and said he wouldn’t hurt you. He’s sure you’ll never fully understand what that meant. It was like getting permission to live, to step out into the sun after years underground, and the person who offered him that deserves everything.

You should be with someone who makes your life easier, not harder, but…Steve really cannot imagine giving you up.

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” you mumble, drawing him back to the present, “about what people say. I like my life with you, but I won’t give up work. I won’t. I’m not living my whole life for you or for work, but they make me feel…I don’t know, evil for wanting both. I don’t want everything. I don’t want easy. I don’t want handouts. I don’t want to play favorites. I just want a balance.”

“Honey, I don’t know whose standard you’re holding yourself to, but those people do not love you.” Steve kisses the top of your head. “You are my standard. For everything. We can get you both, find you a balance.”

Your tears soak through his shirt. “But you could choose someone who fits this better.”

Steve can’t allow it. You have to know. He has to see it in your eyes that you understand. He moves to grip your arms and push you far enough away to look up at him. What he gets is the same face that asked how can I help you today, Captain Rogers.

If he has to do it right now, he will. He’ll get down on one knee and stammer and hope for the best, but he has to see you smile before he lets you go.

“This. This role, this place in my life,” he says firmly, tilting your chin so you can see and really hear him, “it didn’t exist before you, not really, There is no mold, and I’m not choosing anyone else. It can only fit you. No one else belongs here.”

Your eyes are clear, but their light dulls in doubt.

“Do you want the promotion?”

You nod.

“Then go get it, Keeps. Hell of a time to listen to people’s talk! You can’t live your life like that.” Steve fights the urge to repeat the last as ‘we can’t live our lives like that.’ You deserve separate recognition for your accomplishments; it’s why the idea of you being held back by even the mention of him boils his blood. He knows life isn’t fair—that’s been pretty obvious to him since he was four—but he refuses to make your life about him. You are not engaged. You are not married. Even if—God-willing when—you two are, your career will never be his to decide. He will happily accept whatever priority you place him at in your life; he just has to be in it.

The lilt of insecurity still glazes your eyes, but he can see the slow build of a decision.

You squeeze at his waist and warp your mouth comically. “I guess…I could call Bruce.”

Steve sighs and smiles. “You call him—“ he kisses your forehead “—and I will get cleaned up while you do that.”

You sniffle one last time before looking down. “What did you get into?” You brush dust off your front. “Maybe I’ll join you,” you cough, realizing it’s all over your face, too.

No. Steve has to step away and has to know you are not paying attention when he tucks Sarah’s ring somewhere safe. A call is as good a distraction as any.

“Bruce first, though? Call him.” He points to your phone while heading into the bedroom.

Once he hears you start talking, he slips into the closet to open the wall case that holds his tact suit (well, one of them, since several quinjets have one, too), hurriedly finding a secure, closed pocket on the utility belt in which to hide his treasure. The case seals again with his handprint, and Steve is relieved one piece of tech has been upgraded in his favor today.

(Next part)

Tags: @im-a-slut-for-fluff

#steve rogers fic #steve x reader #steve x you #fluff and feels #fluff and romance #fools rush in #steve rogers #fanfic #series #eventual smut #soft!steve rogers

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avatar-news · 3 years ago

Photo

It's now April 2nd so I can confirm that yes, this was an April Fools joke! 😂

Original below:

Avatar Studios announces their first two animated movies: The Legend of Wei (2029) and The Legend of Wing (2030)

We knew there would be something at the Avatar panel at this year’s Nunya City Comic-Con but no one expected anything this huge: Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko have announced what Avatar Studios’ first releases are going to be and when they’re coming: two animated films: Avatar Studios’ The Legend of Wei and Avatar Studios’ The Legend of Wing, coming to theaters in 2029 and 2030 respectively. They will have a 30-day theatrical exclusivity window and then stream on Paramount+.

Here’s the official description from the official press release from Paramount that came out just after the announcement (emphasis mine):

The wait is over. From Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra co-creators Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko’s Avatar Studios comes a breathtaking new era of animation: The Legend of Wei, a 2D-3D hybrid animated film hitting theaters in 2029, followed by a direct sequel, The Legend of Wing, in 2030.

In The Legend of Wei, set five years after The Legend of Korra, Avatar Korra takes a vacation and the spirit of Raava temporarily leaves her body and fuses with both Wei Beifong and Wing Beifong, the twin metalbending brothers of the youngest generation of Toph Beifong’s famous family, with each getting two of the four elements. However, a twist of fate separates the pair, and, without his brother by his side for the first time in his life, Wei Beifong must grapple with being half of a whole and half of an Avatar.

“We know how much fans have wanted twin earth Avatars for years,” Bryan Konietzko said at Nunya City Comic-Con, “we knew we had to find a way to make it happen.”

“I think we cracked a really special story with this,” Michael Dante DiMartino was quoted saying, “we think you’re going to love it.”

Now that the official announcement is out, I can also exclusively reveal some more plot details from my source at Paramount:

Wei gets waterbending and earthbending while Wing gets firebending and airbending.

Vaatu was reborn inside Raava, and when she split to fuse with the twins, it was actually the Raava part that went in Wei and the Vaatu part that went in Wing. That’s why Wing mysteriously leaves (but no one knows about Vaatu, that’s why it’s a mystery until the end of the movie).

Vaatu became savvy of the modern world in the, what, ~9 years he’s watched the world through Korra’s eyes, and his evil plan is similarly on the ball: he knows that money and corporations make this modern new world turn and Wing seduces Asami, who breaks up with Korra and starts using Future Industries’ power and wealth for the dark Vaatu Avatar Wing’s plans. Wing and Asami are a power couple like the Four Nations have never seen.

Korra, heartbroken, falls into the arms of Wei, and they fall in love.

The main dynamic of the movie is the Wei and Korra couple vs the Wing and Asami couple.

Korra still has her waterbending, so she teaches Wei (and he obviously already knows earthbending). There’s lots of cute couple-in-love splashing from what I’ve heard. Zuko and Zaheer are Wing’s firebending and airbending teachers respectively.

All of this is happening while Toph and the rest of the Beifong clan are trying to organize Lin and Pema’s wedding, which is where most of the comic relief for the movie comes in. I don’t know the details on how Tenzin and Pema broke up and Lin and Pema got together, it most likely happened in the five-year gap.

Honestly, this is EXACTLY what we’ve been waiting for. Everyone knows Wing and Wei are some of the fandom’s favorite characters, including placing first and first (tied) in the recent CBS News poll run during their Avatar Week (disclaimer: CBS is owned by Paramount, Avatar Studios’ parent company), so it’s amazing that Bryke and Avatar Studios are listening to the fans.

And the fact that the movies are coming so soon? Cherry on top.

From what I understand, after these two movies are out, there will be multiple spinoff animated series for each of the rest of the Beifongs, coming to Paramount+ starting in 2031 and so on.

But for now, get hype for The Legend of Wei coming 2029 and The Legend of Wing coming 2030!

#april fools day

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danses-with-dogmeat · 2 years ago

Note

🏫🍻🔪 For Fawkes? Need me some super mutant lovin' 🥰 (yes i'm kind of ignoring canon on that one, lemme fuck a super mutant bethesda) No pressure if you're uncomfortable w it or anything so no worries!!

Ohhh, I got you, my friend, I got you 😉 This man deserves some lovin' after all those years in isolation.

(and I might be wrong, but I think it's only officially canon that the Mutants in FO4 [the ones made by the Institute] are sans endowment, for the ones in 3 and NV, I think it's a bit more ambiguous 🤔 so there's definitely hope! [just so long as I'm not wrong, lol])

Either way, here it is! NSFW under the cut!

F) Favorite position (this goes without saying):

His size makes him too nervous to be on top of you, no matter what you tell him you can handle, so he often declines positions like missionary or lazy dog, where he's afraid he might end up crushing you. So, he tends to favor positions where he can still be close to you, without having to worry so much. He can hardly last when you ride him, he's so enthralled with the way you look as you grind on top of him, but he finds that he really likes it. It also gives the added benefit of you controlling how much you can handle, and what pace you'd like to go at, so that definitely makes riding a favorite of his. He also appreciates reverse cowgirl, but only temporarily, as he really does enjoy seeing your face. Another option is standing positions, with you draped over a piece of furniture, or held against a wall. Fawkes has got a lot of strength, and though he often holds it at bay to keep from hurting you, that doesn't mean he doesn't like to show off and use it to his advantage every once in awhile.

A) Aftercare (what they're like after sex):

Even when you tell him not to, Fawkes worries about you. And despite the fact that he takes the utmost care when he's with you, after the two of you are finished, he's all over you, asking you to tell him honestly if you're alright, inspecting your skin to make sure you aren't marked too brutally, ensuring the only tears in your eyes are from pleasure, and never from pain he's caused.

When he's finally finished checking on you, he loves pillow talk. After you're all cleaned up, he likes when you lean against his body, his hand in yours as you two chat away until sleep claims the both of you.

W) Wildcard (a random headcannon for the character):

He may be big and imposing, but Fawkes really likes a partner that will take control. When you tell him what to do, or move parts of his body of your own accord and use him to reach your mind-shattering release, he always comes undone at the sight of it.

K) Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Dirty talk, but like, his version of dirty talk, which is mostly flowery and romantic declarations and relentless praise (so praise kink as well, both giving and receiving).

Though he won't like to admit it, he does have a bit of a size kink, loving the way he can pick you up and manhandle you when he does choose to be more dominant.

He's really curious about roleplay, and would love to try out new scenarios with you. He had a lot of time to himself all those years, so he's got plenty of imaginative ideas.

Light bondage (for him). He likes the idea of you having to restrain him because he's so aggressively drawn to you, (even if he really is very aware of his and your limitations), and the way you can be the one to manipulate him when he's at your mercy gets him harder than he thought was possible.

E) Experienced (how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?):

Perhaps the old Fawkes, the human man, maybe he was experienced. But Fawkes now? Everything he knows is from what he's read on that terminal of his before the others destroyed it, so he has very good anatomic knowledge, and well-rounded understanding of the meanings and general practices of sex, but no real world experience with a partner. This base proves to be excellent though, just enough to know what he should be doing, with you there to guide him through the rest. And don't worry, Fawkes is a fast learner.

S) Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?):

Ummmm, yeah. His endurance is startling. Fawkes can go just about as many rounds as you want, and though he tends to be a little premature in the first round with you, he recovers in mere minutes. And he really cannot get enough of you. He's been locked up, pent up, for years, and you're everything he's ever wanted, but what he feared he'd never have. So, so long as you aren't in pain, or too tired to continue, Fawkes could quite literally go all night.

#thanks for the ask!#1k celebration #1k event #fallout ask #fawkes fo3 #fallout fawkes #goodneighbor

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dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

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Would it be possible to have a chapter dedicated to Vil creating a poison to temporarily immobilize the reader so he can use them as a doll and fuck them however he wants to and however much he wants to~? Bonus points if he goes the extra mile and even dresses them up and does their make up like a pretty doll... I just. Mm. Can't get Vil and dollification out of my mind and I LOVE your writing!

Oh, gosh...Here we go! I hope I don't disappoint! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ but honestly, im not proud of this at all so...

♥︎ Warnings ♥︎

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

One kiss and they lived happily ever after just like that? Vil had always thought that something as half-assed as that is simpy unacceptable, just plain lazy writing in his opinion. If a romantic fairytale is what the world had wanted all this time, his love story with his Darling would’ve been better. Maybe then the world would know what it’s really like to live in a happy ending.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

It all started with a sip.

One sip of a seemingly harmless tea was all it took to ruin your life.

Your balance was the first to be cut off, allowing you to stumble upon your own feet and knocking the most authentic utensils off the table. You once tried to hold yourself from falling completely but even your arms had given up on trying to work. You landed on the ground with a rough thud, your heart was beating so fast in your ribcage whilst your brain was desperately processing for a reasonable explanation. You were left in cold sweat, unable to move anything aside from a few twitches here and there, even turning your head was a challenge. With your bodily functions suddenly falling so useless like this, you naturally panicked as a batch of heavy breathing escaped you.

A feeling of dread went up your spine, a poisoned tea was not the first thing that came into your mind during all of this, it didn't taste any different than the usual, and the aroma was as inviting as ever.

It was only when you heard the haunting clicks of someone's heel heading towards you that you noticed something very strange. His slender legs blocked your vision and you almost strained your neck just by glancing up at him, sweat dripping down your forehead from the tenacious effort. "V-Vil-san..." You called out his name, your friend's name. God, even your throat is uncooperative with your commands, merely speaking feels as if a thousand needles were all simultaneously poking your vocal cords open.

But really, you still find it very strange, especially now that he's looking down upon you so apathetically like this. Despite the fact that your body is clearly suffering from something that you have yet to find out, Vil seems to be awfully calm about all of this. "H...Help, please...!" But even with that suspicious trait, you still called out for him, who else could you turn to at this desperate moment? He was really the only one capable of doing so as of now.

Surprisingly, he did reach for your aching hands, clasping his smooth ones over yours as delicately as possible. "Are you familiar with the tale of the Princess who danced with Death upon eating a Poisoned Apple?" You couldn't help but be lost at what Vil had suddenly asked of you. He pulled your body up from the ground, until you were in his arms, embracing you by the waist since your legs have been practically rendered useless. "...But because of a Prince who fell in Love with her at First Sight, she was saved."

Vil sat you back down on the chair that you once resided in just a few minutes ago, watching as your body slumped down without any support. He placed your hands properly on the armchair, so that it doesn't limp on your sides. "How? You might ask. By a True Love's Kiss, of course." He said with what looks like to be a smile from your angle, you couldn't move your head to adjust your view of him anymore so you had to make use of what you can see for now. "What do you think of it? It's the perfect romantic story to tell the children, isn't it?"

Vil tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind your ear before holding your head up by the chin. There, your twitching eyes finally had a good look at his handsome features, looking down upon you with an unfamiliar emotion swirling in his eyes. "...But I always hated that ridiculous story." He confessed with a sigh, you could only stare up at him with widened eyes, wondering where he's trying to get at. "The Princess was just a naive little girl and the Prince was stupid enough as it is. Even as a child, my opinions never changed about it."

Then, you saw his other hand reaching for the unfinished tea you were drinking earlier from your peripheral vision, a spark of distress had suddenly come down upon you. With widened eyes, you glanced at Vil in hopes of finding out what he was going to do but you were met with nothing but a disturbing smile on his lips. "But doesn't it resemble you a bit?" He suddenly said, finally shifting his attention to you.

"Eh...?" You breath out, lips quavering as your body twitched in response. "What do you-"

"A naive child who writhes on the hands of the friend she thought she had upon drinking a cup of tea that she didn't know was tampered with." You widened your eyes as everything just slowly clicked by that single, meaningful sentence. Then, you gasped as Vil placed the rim of the teacup on top of your lips, the mesmerizing swirling liquid of the tea now looked so deadly when you took in consideration on its true purpose. "Similar, yes...Except for the fact that you don't have a Charming Prince that will come and save you."

"You only have me." His haunting words was left echoing in your mind as he opened your mouth and forced down the remaining liquid inside.

"M-Mmgh...! Aa...!" Gurgled sounds came out of you as warm tea flows down your throat, almost choking you in the process. Vil's hands was firmly locked onto your jaw, not allowing you to close them until he made sure that you have swallowed the drink until its very last drop. His nails were digging onto your cheeks, causing tears to escape your eyes whilst your lips quaver, a line of liquid escaping in the sides of your mouth had already dripped down and stained your cloth.

With a final gulp, Vil finally released you from his grasp, allowing your weak body to fall limp on the chair. The beautiful antagonist before you had crouched down to your eye level, carefully wiping your mouth with a clean handkerchief. "...If you think about it that way, doesn't your version of the story sound better?" He asked, but it was clear that he wasn't expecting any answers from you at all, not that you have any at the moment. "It's much more realistic and we can sweat about the tiniest little details."

Vil grabbed your body once again, resting your head on his shoulder before taking a hold of your legs. He neatly picked you in a bridal manner, gracefully turning around to transport you in a place that you can't quite see. "Come now, my Little Doll. Let's get you all dressed up." He said with a satisfied smile decorating his handsome face, as if he wasn't holding your shivering body against his arms. "After that, we'll talk and we'll play. Let's create a beautiful story for ourselves, much better than the ones out there."

"I wonder what kind of happy ending we'll get." With his heels resounding against the empty hallways of the elegant Pomefiore Dorm, Vil lovingly nuzzled against your cold cheeks, ignoring how your skin practically shies away from his touch, creating goosebumps as protection. He then stared dreamily at nothing, as if he was getting his creative side of brain to work. "But let's start from the beginning..."

"Hm...Let's see..."

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

Don't mind me, I'm just waiting for the day that the rest of chapter five comes up with Vil's official backstory and COMPLETELY debunks everything that I said in here ha h a

can i just mention how much i love writing for Vil? Yeah, that's it. Thank you for coming to Yume's ted talk-

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere #pomefiore #sinfic #spicy dream

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

Text

Official Accounts Part 36- Fight Club Shit

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

“Wait, wait, wait what did you think they were planning?” Mina laughs. “I’m not gonna keep rehashing the story if everyone’s gonna keep laughing at me,” you protest. “I believe the words she used were ‘fight club shit’,” Denki cackles beside you. “Well excuse me for being incredibly suspicious of anything Hawks and Bakugo are trying to plan together that they think I can’t know about. It’s not like one of them has anger issues and both of them are competitive or anything,” you shoot back. “Hey dumbass! Who the fuck are you saying has anger issues?” Bakugo yells from your living room. “Technically you’re the one who identified yourself with anger issues, I didn’t name names!” you shout back. “Keep talking shit, see what happens.” “You wanna fight Kacchan? Let’s rumble!”

Before you can make good on your threat a pair of familiar arms are wrapping around your waist from behind. “I sat through that whole lecture on how I better not be ‘on that fight club shit’ with Bakugo not even an hour ago and now here you are picking fights,” Hawks teases. “Does it really count as picking a fight when it’s completely justified?” you fire back as you turn to face your boyfriend. “Yes, yes it does,” he laughs. “Whatever, he totally would have it coming.” “And then you’d both feel guilty about it for weeks.” “Hey! You’re not supposed to be able to read us like that yet!” you protest. “(Y/n) you are an open book written for very dumb children. It’s not that hard to read you,” Shinso cuts in. “Wooow, isn’t this supposed to be my party? Why am I being bullied right now?” “You make it so easy sometimes,” Kiri admits as he walks into the kitchen to grab more beers for the pong table he and Bakugo had set up. “Et tu brute?” you gasp dramatically. “You know we say it with love,” he laughs. “Hawks, Denki, you guys coming?” he adds as he walks out the room. Both men call out a yes, leading Shinso to grab his drink quickly before Denki drags him out of the kitchen. “You and Denki pong partners?” you ask as your boyfriend presses a quick kiss to your cheek before releasing you to follow the others out to the pong table. “Yep, you gonna root for us?” Hawks asks cheekily as he backs out of the kitchen. “Hmm, I don’t know. Kiri and Kacchan are pretty good. I’ll have to think it over and get back to you later,” you tease. Hawks shakes his head fondly but still throws you a smile and a wink before finally joining the others, leaving just you and Mina in the kitchen.

“I feel so aggressively single right now wow,” Mina jokes. “Your person is out there somewhere,” you assure her. “See that? That’s the kinda cheesy shit only people in relationships say,” she points out. “Well it’s true!” you laugh. “You guys are really good for each other, huh?” “I think so.” “I’m really, really happy for you. You deserve it.” “Thanks Mina. We should do a girl’s night soon. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out just the two of us.” “You sure Hawks will let me steal you away for an entire night?” “I’d like to see him try to stop us.” That makes Mina laugh. “Fair enough. Speaking of, you may need to go celeb shot for your mans. Looks like he and Denki are getting crushed,” she points out. You turn around to look out towards the game and laugh when you see she’s right. “Let me go save my boyfriend and best friend from humiliating defeat then,” you laugh before quickly finishing off what’s left of your drink and walking out to join them.

Alas even your help can’t save Denki and Hawks and eventually they wind up defeated. Almost immediately Hawks is demanding a rematch and you can’t help but laugh as he and Bakugo start bickering. It’s a dynamic you were still adjusting to in all honesty. When you had considered the ways Hawks would fit into your friend group way back when you’d invited him to stay with you, you hadn’t anticipated he and Bakugo becoming friends. It was always a pleasant surprise when you’d discover the two of them were running a patrol together or if you’d catch one texting the other. They still bickered and if you asked either of them they’d probably deny their budding bromance but it still made you happy all the same.

Bakugo wasn’t the only one who had gotten close with Hawks. He and Denki had become close as well. You think it’s because Denki has never been opposed to filling silences. On days when Keigo is annoyed or stressed, when the pressures of being number two are particularly intense, he knows he can meet up with Denki and not have to say a word. He can just sit and listen as Denki rambles on and on about whatever his latest obsession is. On days he does feel like contributing, he’s down to debate even the weirdest hypotheticals Denki can come up with. You already have the sneaking suspicion that even if things end between you and Hawks, the two of them will stay close.

You’re pulled out of your musings when Hawks walks up and grabs your hand. “What’s got you thinking so hard little dove?” he asks. “Nothing really, I’m just happy,” you reply with a soft smile. He practically melts at the sight. “C’mon with me to the balcony, I wanna give you something,” he says as he gently tugs you in that direction. You follow behind as your curiosity blooms, but no matter how much you ask him what it is he ignores you until the two of you are alone on the balcony in the night air.

You wait for him to say something, knowing by now that it’s always best to just give him time to gather his thoughts. His eyes stay trained on the sky even as he finally begins speaking. “I know we haven’t gotten to see each other as much because so much of my work has been out of the office lately,” he finally admits. “It’s ok, I know how it is,” you shrug. “Yea but it’s a little weird after seeing each other almost all day every day while I was taking time off,” he replies. “Yea we got a little spoiled,” you laugh. “I miss having tea with you in the evening.” “Ugh yes. I miss you making breakfast for me in the morning, early bird.” “I miss you being there for me if I have a nightmare. I miss you playing music while you get dressed or do chores around the apartment. I miss you being the first person I see in the morning and the last I see at night,” he confesses into the quiet night. “Kei? What’re you saying?” you ask, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere that tells you he’s more serious than you’d initially thought. He finally turns to face you as he pulls a key out of his pocket and holds it out to you. “Will you move in with me?” he asks in a breath, the words seeming so delicate somehow, as if afraid they’ll fracture the fragile moment he’s created on this balcony with you.

Your heart stops and then immediately begins to race. It may seem like such a simple thing from the outside, a small step forward in your rapidly progressing relationship. Something that may seem like an obvious next step considering this whole thing started in part as a result of him temporarily living with you. You know the truth though. This is his “think fast”. This is his way of showing you just how much he trusts you, just like him telling you his real name was. Not only is he saying he wants you in his space, his home, but he wants you to be a part of it. “You ok there?” Keigo asks and god he sounds so nervous. But you’re realizing you’ve been quiet too long now so finally you nod your head frantically and take the offered key. “Yes! Of course Kei, I would love to move in with you. My answer is yes,” you laugh. “Jesus Kid, you had me worried for a second there,” he huffs but he’s grinning too as he pulls you in for a sweet and passionate kiss. Even once your lips part he keeps you close, his forehead pressed to yours as he lets himself truly relish in the fact he gets to have you.

“So when can I move in?” you all but whisper into the space between you. “How about tomorrow?” he suggests. “My lease on this place doesn’t run out for another month Kei,” you respond, pulling back a little so he can see you roll your eyes. “And? Bakugo and I could use it for our Fight club shit,” he grins. “Oh my god, you’re the worst,” you groan. You try pushing him away but Keigo doesn’t let you get too far, laughing as he pulls you back close to him again. “Nah, you love me,” he teases you. You shake your head but sober back up a little, looking him in his beautiful golden eyes as you say, “I do. I love you Keigo Takami.” “I love you too (y/n) (y/l/n).”

You don’t know exactly what’s in store for the two of you from here on out, but whatever it is you’re glad he’ll be by your side through it.

Author’s Note: I know beer pong is a very American thing but I feel like Kirishima saw it in an American movie and from then on insisted it be included at parties. Also bonus points if you caught the Umbrella Academy reference. On a more serious note this is it. The final chapter of Official Accounts. I’m so incredibly touched by all the love this fic has received and I’m so grateful to all of you who’ve supported me by reading, liking, and reblogging it. This became so much larger than I thought it would but I’m so happy to have gone on this little journey with you all. I love each and every one of you and hope you’ll stick around to see what I write next ❤️

Thanks for reading everyone! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist [closed]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @jupiter-is-a-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp

#hopelessoa #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks smau

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shortiedreams · 4 years ago

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Nobles in the night

Requested by @jwxei

Pairing: Bakugo x (fem) Reader

Synopsis: You’re a princess set out to kill the king of your nation. Will you succeed?

Word count: 1,821

CW: Attempted murder

A/N: Played ‘Phantom of the Opera’ soundtracks whilst writing this. Dying right now ✌️

“The hour of the ball has transpired.” a hushed voice came from behind the entrance.

With the help of his usual dynamic tone, Bakugo immediately recognises the familiar voice of his fidus Achates, Kirishima Eijiro.

“Very well.” he sighs, and Kirishima could almost hear a frown through his raspy voice.

None of this was going the way Bakugo wanted it to, yet he couldn’t back out anymore; it was simply too late.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, your majesty.” Kirishima reports.

“Please do.”

Bakugo examines his profile in the gilded mirror. He glowers at his own reflection, how outlandish he looked in his formal attire. Even short of the mantle cloak he was supposed to wear tonight, everything about what he’s dressed himself was far too extravagant for his liking.

He poses again with several new angles as if his judgements will change in one swift movement, but of course, it still feels improper.

He drops his eyes in defeat, succumbing to the unadorned fact that he was going to have to get used to the policies of being king.

He has no idea why everyone worshipped the throne. All he ever wanted was to live a secluded life with his family and friends.

In actuality, that was what he had before the Mediterranean War a year prior to the present, wiping out the entirety of his family, ergo his newfound entitlement: the king. Kirishima was the only part of his childhood that remained, the only part of his childhood he still had physical contact with. It wasn’t surprising to say that he was very attached to the man, granting him the chancellor’s position.

Which is why with Kirishima and his family’s former support, it was impossible for him to deny the tradition of the annual ball no matter how much he opposes it. He hates the notion of prattling aristocrats shattering his peace and quietness. Even more so of his invitation to you, the Princess of Agathinos, under the monarchy’s recommendation. This would be the first time a guest with royal blood would visit the palace ever since his family’s death.

As always, Bakugo initially wanted to decline, but Kirishima advised him that he should accept it since it was ‘time’ for him to start courting. He thought Kirishima was being a nuisance, then again he also didn’t want to be looked down on by the aristocrats. He already knows there are rumours of him, calling him all sorts of names like ‘boorish to women’ or ‘ a critter of another nation’.

Bakugo was a smart man, so it didn’t take him much to realise that if he really terminated these accustomed traditions, the public would cause unnecessary commotions. Therefore, for the sake of his future peace and his reputation, the ball is set to commence tonight.

Bakugo snaps out of his sombre daze as he reaches the doors to his chamberlains. He fixes himself, coughs a little, before the doors open and he’s now striding out into the hallway.

Two handmaids are waiting outside his chambers on cue, guiding him to the ballroom. Bakugo glances around the normally dimmed hall, spotting the marshals line-up in armour and the walls decorated with large candles and Renaissance artifacts. He could hear the distant melodies of the orchestra, currently playing some melodramatic composition. Amidst the lively energy of the hall, Bakugo thought that these attributes only made the area more inhumane.

Bakugo soon enters the top of the stairway, where he adjusts himself as he sits on his throne. He doesn’t even get a few seconds to himself and the guests are already flooding into the ballroom, producing a discord between the music and the chatters.

“Just great.” he grumbles to himself, resting his chin atop a fisted hand.

“For the stead of my parents and the kingdom.” you remind yourself.

You too were sitting in front of your vanity mirror, questioning yourself of your affairs.

You stare into the mirror long and hard. The dress you were currently wearing is the embodiment of an icy blue oasis. The crystal embroidery embellished on the outermost tulle of the skirt was your definition of a wintery wonderland. The rest of your body was touched up with matching accessories too: diamond earrings, silk gloves and silver hair ornaments. Everything about your outfit shone under the moonlight, but you didn’t, you merely blended in with the dark. Especially with the expression you were holding, no one was going to see you as a ‘princess’.

The reason for your morose mien was your parents, who weren��t attending the ball alongside you as they were busied with engagements arranged overseas.

The only thing they left behind for you was the invitation card, and a letter explicitly telling you to the murder the king.

At the time you read the letter, you were shocked at how your parents could possibly craft up an assassination plot with such detail. You weren’t oblivious to your parents being megalomaniacs; it was why they were away most of the time, focus directed towards any other royalty overseas rather than their own daughter back at home.

Another reason why they never really bothered with you was because you were a daughter. Although you were an only child, you understood that society’s misogynistic ways definitely influenced their lack of attention towards you.

It's not like you and your family had a bad relationship but you weren’t exactly close either, therefore you didn’t have enough memories to form any opinions on them. Well that is up until now, when the confidential letter telling you the kill the king ceaselessly echoes through your mind.

Brazen of you, but you wanted to get some of your family’s attention for once. In a sense, you inherited their selfishness.

You temporarily shake off your thoughts, and with the minimal amount of dignity left in you, tread along to where your chauffeur was, waiting to escort you to the plaza - the location of the castle.

Inside the privacy of your cart, the thoughts of how the assassination will go runs through your mind as you fiddle nervously on the holster underneath your dress.

You just hope you’ll manage to come out in one piece.

The moment you make your ‘grand’ entrance at the ball, strangers are already gushing at you as a peculiar redhead announces your status.

You realise that this was probably your first official appearance in public as your parents never let you out, contradicting their own actions.

You waste no time to ask around for the location of the lavatories. Luckily, the same redhead fills you in on the information you need, and you manage to make a quick escape to the toilets.

You shut the doors behind you, puffing in pure relief. You were never good with crowds since you haven’t even been outside after all, so the comfort of this cloistered space warms you a little.

Anyway, you’re here to collect yourself before you even dare to think about killing anyone.

It takes you a while to calm your breathing as the plan continues to play through your mind for what feels like an eternity. Killing really is all that disturbing.

When you finally muster up enough courage, you step out of the lavatory with undeveloped confidence. Flushing, you look down at your feet as you attempt to make your way back into the ballroom, not even noticing the man standing straight ahead. You stumble into him ungraciously, earning you a merited knock on the head.

“Ouch.” you wince in pain.

Your eyes drift up to meet with a prepossessing blonde who gazes down at you with an amused guise. He was dressed in haute couture, a form-fitting navy suit pinned with the golden emblem of the Bakugo’s: a griffin.

Without a second glance, you instantly note that he’s the king.

“Careful, Princess of Agathinos.” he alerts, his voice suiting as the most soothing cord of notes you’ve heard pour out of a mouth in a while.

How did he recognise you?

“You dropped something, princess.” Stupefied, you watch in awe as he bends down to pick up your possession.

Moments later, you finally knock yourself out to check what’s fallen off your outfit. In vain, you find all your accessories precisely in their designated locations.

Wait.

“A dagger?” he taunts, raising a brow in your way, “Mind explaining why you need this in a clearly guarded place?”

“My King, I-”

“Don’t have anything to defend yourself with?” Your eyes widen at his accurate observation.

Unnerved, you flee from his light grasp and begin pacing in the opposite direction witlessly.

“Running away from me in my premises. How fatuous.” he chuckles to himself, inspecting the dagger that played in his hands.

You dash tirelessly past the postern and into what appears to be a garden. You don’t give a second thought as you bolt through a vineyard, the chiffon fabric tufting together under the remiss handling of your silk gloves.

Reaching the mouth of an inviting forest, you feel a pair of arms repelling you from going any further. Your eyes widen once more, not being able to tell if you were gratified or terrified, or a genuine mixture of both.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.” the flattery music blows into your ear.

Absent from warnings, two strong arms spin your waist around to engage you with a handsome physique under the moonlight. You shudder at the enchanting sight of the king.

If he’s run all the way here for you unaccompanied, it is only alright for you to assume that he doesn’t care about the incident back there.

He seems to be more interested in you, like you are with him.

“Please don’t run, princess. I’m not the beast that everyone deems me to be.”

You show no apparent reaction to his comment, still fazed.

“Don’t be afraid.” he adds, sounding ever so sincere.

“Oh, I won’t.” you promise. It was the only thing you could say after being completely infatuated by him.

“If you’re saying that on account of me releasing you, then you’re wrong, princess.”

“I mean it, your majesty.” you clarify challengingly.

He hums, palpably entertained, “Will you allow me to try something?”

Was the king seriously asking you for permission even after he knew you were a threat?

Oh lord.

“S-sure.” you stutter, making a downright fool out of yourself.

“Well then, forgive me for my bold deed.”

Before you could even say anything, you feel the sensation of his soft lips pressing against yours, juxtaposing to his unyielding image beneath the moonlight. It sent butterflies fluttering down your back impetuously.

Slowly pulling away for air, a silence hovers above the both of you, utterly enraptured by each other.

“Bewitching.” he comments as he leans in for another kiss. This time you lid your eyes, prepared to devote yourself to your king, Bakugo Katsuki.

#bakugou x you #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha fluff #bakugo fluff #fluff ahoy #fluff

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Escape: Chapter 1

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort Characters: Gordon, Scott

An island vacation turns into a nightmare, and it’s going to take Gordon everything he’s got, and then some, to get himself and his injured brother to safety.

I am, tentatively, calling this a oneshot, but there is definitely scope for a full fic here if my muses line up properly. It turns out they didn’t want to go a whole week without Scott&Gordon and whump, so here we go - a little something to keep them happy.

EDIT: Officially no longer a oneshot. Thank you, muses.

“Leave me.”

Blue eyes locked with his, bright with pain but determined nonetheless. Gordon expected nothing less from his eldest brother. Still, Scott was asking – demanding – the impossible, and no matter that it was an order from a superior, the part of Gordon that was little brother rather than operative only had one answer to that.

“Not a chance.”

“Gordon-”

“I am not leaving you behind,” he hissed.

Scott was injured, and it was bad. The guys had got the drop on them, their tumble over a thankfully shallow cliff hadn’t ended well for Scott, no thanks to Gordon landing on top of him, thereby cushioning his own fall, and now they were on the run.

Well. Gordon was on the run. Scott was another matter entirely, and there was a sick logic to Scott’s demand.

Gordon was uninjured, barring a few scrapes. By himself, he’d have no trouble getting to safety, somewhere where he could turn the situation around and get back to their boat and off the island where they’d decided to take a day’s vacation. With his broken leg, and Gordon suspected some busted ribs and a wrist injury on top, Scott couldn’t even walk by himself. He was slowing Gordon down, and they both knew it.

“You have to,” Scott insisted. “If they catch you-”

“And what about if they catch you?” Gordon cut him off. They didn’t know what the guys’ goal was, but he was willing to bet it wasn’t for a friendly chat over a cup of tea. “Come on.”

He’d managed to swim them across an inlet, towing Scott like a helpless rescuee – which he might as well be, at this point – but they needed to get into the treeline, out of sight and somewhere where they could hatch a strategy to get out of there.

Both of them out of there.

No matter what Scott said, leaving him behind to their pursuers’ mercy was not an option.

“I,” Scott started. His face was chalk white, emphasising just how blue his eyes were, and he was trembling ever so slightly. “I can handle it.”

The words were supposed to be reassuring, but they fell flat and empty. They didn’t even know what the guys wanted; if this was just some sick hunting game to them, it didn’t matter how well Scott could handle captivity – he’d still be dead.

Gordon couldn’t hear immediate pursuit; the inlet seemed to have at least temporarily done the trick, although he knew it was only a matter of time before they were back on their trail.

“Scott,” he bit out, frustration born of worry sharpening his tongue more than he’d intended. Those bright blue eyes met his, and he could see the fear his big brother was failing to hide. There was love, of course, and determination, but it was the fear that called out to Gordon. He crouched down in front of him, getting down to Scott’s current level of struggling to sit upright. “I am not leaving you behind.”

“You have to!” The desperation was well-hidden, but Gordon knew his brother.

He grasped his forearms, taking Scott’s weight as his brother lurched forward, unable to keep himself upright. The skin was cool and slightly clammy to the touch. Combined with the trembles wracking his body, and Gordon knew what he was dealing with.

“Scott,” he repeated, using the grip on his arms to hold him in place, draw him a little closer. “Listen to me.” He tightened his hold marginally. “You’re going into shock and you’re not thinking clearly.” Another concern to add to the pile he already had. “Listen to me.”

“Gordon-”

“Listen to me,” he repeated, leaning forwards and carefully releasing one of Scott’s arms so that hand could gently wind around until it was on the nape of his neck. “Scott, do you trust me?”

In some situations, that question would be answered with an eyeroll and a smart remark about prankster squids. In situations like this, it was answered by a reflexive swallow and a word floating out on a breath. “Always.”

Gordon drew him in, pressing forehead to forehead and trying to ignore the clammy skin as he looked point blank into Scott’s eyes. “I’m getting you out of here,” he promised. “I’m getting us out of here,” because Scott would never be pacified by promises of his own well-being if it came at the expense of a brother’s. That should have been enough, was enough, but there were more words on his tongue and he let them fall. “They won’t hurt you again. I won’t let them.”

Pain made Scott look younger, more like the young man he really was than the middle-aged commander he tried to emulate. If someone had told him he was actually looking into Alan’s eyes then, Gordon might even have believed them. Almost. There was still a steel there that Alan didn’t quite have. Not yet.

Scott was still struggling to keep command, still trying to present himself as the leader and in control of the situation, but Gordon knew it was, well, maybe not an act, but more for Scott’s benefit than his own. And he knew Scott knew he knew that.

Still, there were no more futile protests, and he held him close for a moment longer before pulling back.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, conscious that they’d stayed in one place for too long. “Come on.”

Scott didn’t fight him this time, although there was next to no assistance, either. That came as no surprise to Gordon, even if he hated the reminder that Scott wasn’t well, was badly injured and going into shock as a result.

There was no way Scott could walk on that leg. Up until their swim across the inlet, he’d been leaning heavily on Gordon’s shoulder, hopping along at a painfully slow pace, but they couldn’t keep that up if they wanted to stay far enough ahead to get out of there.

He crouched down and pulled Scott forwards, cautiously slinging him over his shoulder. It wouldn’t be easy – Scott was tall and heavy, and Gordon knew he didn’t have the strength to carry him for too long – but he could keep it up long enough. He hoped.

“Gordon,” Scott croaked as he staggered to his feet. Hands balled in the back of his shirt. “Your back-”

“I’m getting us out of here,” he repeated, one arm wrapping around his brother’s waist where it bent over his shoulder, and the other clinging to his legs tightly, both for additional security and to immobilise the break as best he could. “I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t a bad day, thank goodness. Gordon had never yet been put in a position where he’d have to choose between potentially re-destroying his back or saving a life, and if there was one piece of luck shining down on them, it was that he didn’t have to make that choice today, either.

He staggered forwards, one step and then another, falling into an ungainly rhythm as he pushed on, towards the treeline that promised cover.

Grunts and gasps of pain from behind him betrayed the way Scott’s leg was jostled by the movement despite his best efforts. Gordon hoped he’d positioned him so that his ribs weren’t worsening, too, but he hadn’t had much of a choice on that matter.

Hold on, Scott, he thought, not wasting his breath by vocalising it. He didn’t have the breath to spare, and Scott wouldn’t appreciate acknowledgement of his agony. All Gordon could do was cling on tightly and forge forwards.

He still couldn’t hear pursuit, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any. They wouldn’t be safe until they were clear of the area, off the coast and hopefully far into the sea.

Gordon knew there was a cove nearby. On a good day, he could swim from there to the neighbouring, larger, island. On a day like today, where the waves weren’t quite flat calm and his brother could do nothing more than float along, it was bordering on the impossible.

If there were no boats there to hijack, it would be their only option.

Clearly, Lady Luck had determined that Gordon’s back being fit enough to carry Scott the distance, even if his brother was gasping with every staggering step he ran, filled his entire quota for the day. He was beyond grateful to have had that, but the sight of an empty cove when he broke free of the treeline made his heart sink.

“How are you holding up?” he asked Scott, stumbling to a halt on the shoreline and staring out at the expanse of blue-green ocean. In the distance, the flat horizon line was broken by another landmass – the other island, and their only chance of escape.

Not for the first time since they’d been attacked, he cursed the fact that neither of their comms were working. Disabled by some jamming bubble, no doubt.

“Holding,” Scott gasped, a word that was more lie than truth in the same way as Gordon’s conviction that he could swim the distance with his injured brother in tow. It wasn’t true, but it had to be, because they had no choice.

“Okay,” Gordon acknowledged, his kneeling more a controlled crash to the ground than anything else. “We’re getting out of here, Scott.” He lowered his brother to the shingle, laid him on his back and looked at skin so white it might as well be translucent. Scott was getting worse, trembles more noticeable as they passed through his body, and Gordon prayed he could hold on until they got to the next island, where they could shelter and he could treat the onsetting shock.

If they survived the swim.

His chest heaved, shoulders taking advantage of no longer having his brother slung over to rise and take in large lungsful of air.

Blue eyes spotted it, because Scott might be injured and well onto his way into shock but he was still Scott and he’d always notice a younger brother in difficulty.

“Gordon,” he rasped, a last-ditch attempt to change his mind. “Go.”

“Not without you,” Gordon swore. “Come on, Scotty. One last little swim and we’ll be out of here.”

He didn’t give him a chance to protest, wriggling his arms underneath his brother and ignoring the way the shingle scraped at his skin. Scott let out a reluctant groan at the movement, but Gordon couldn’t address that right then. Not until they were off the island.

It was a lunge to his feet more than anything else, arms clutched tightly around Scott as his forwards momentum dragged them across the shingle, almost tangling his feet together and face-planting them both back on the ground. Water sloshed around his ankles, the ocean cool. She wasn’t inviting, but she wasn’t openly hostile either, so Gordon pushed on.

Water around his ankles became water kissing his knees, creeping up his thighs until it encircled his hips. He waded deeper, until it was up to his waist and caressing his forearms. Touching Scott’s back.

He made eye contact with Scott as he came to a stop, disbelief and fear warring for prominence over the usual love and faith in those familiar blue eyes, and his brother opened his mouth to croak out his name again. Gordon gave him a tight smile, lowering him until he was floating on the waves. Strands of his hair had escaped the rigorous gelling they’d been subjected to that morning and splayed out like a miniature halo as ripples of water teased them.

“We’re getting out of here,” he promised again, the words tangling up in his throat and coming out all twisted and hoarse.

Letting the water take his weight was as familiar as breathing. Looping his arm around Scott, he kicked off from the seabed and, eyes on the distant island, began to swim.

It was a long way, Olympic speed training useless to him. He needed the endurance swimming from WASP, kilometres of open water with a casualty in tow. It was reckless, stupid, even.

It was their only chance.

Chapter 2>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #thunderwhump #escape

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carewyncromwell · 3 years ago

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[Ficlet] Gonna Hit Rewind

Hi guys! So this is a little drabble inspired by a prompt by my friend @drinkyoursoupbitch, where I show what my MC, Carewyn Cromwell, was up to during a certain scene in the Harry Potter series!

Before we begin, just a couple of notes --

Post-Hogwarts, Carewyn becomes a lawyer for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement -- you can read more about her life as an adult here, if you’d like! When it comes to the Order of the Phoenix, Carey-Bear doesn’t formally join, instead providing covert assistance while staying autonomous from Dumbledore (who she doesn’t really like as a person) and looking “subservient” to Fudge’s wishes. Later on, this becomes very useful after the Death Eaters take over the Ministry in 1997: when the Battle of Hogwarts begins, Carewyn actually helps take back the Ministry by placing Umbridge under citizen’s arrest and temporarily taking charge until Kingsley Shacklebolt is officially appointed Minister. Carewyn’s outfit in the sketch enclosed below is inspired by this design. Musical accompaniment for this ficlet were “Leave Me Alone” by Michael Jackson (for Carewyn’s conversation with that...certain family member in the aforementioned sketch) and “Turn Back Time” by Derivakat (which inspired the title of this drabble!). And in regards to Carewyn’s negative attitude toward Time Turners...that is 110% my mother talking. When we read Harry Potter and the Cursed Child together, she absolutely hated that it involved time travel, as she found the whole idea ridiculously confusing and illogical. (The whole climax of Prisoner of Azkaban was even her least favorite aspect of the original Potter books. 😂)

Hope you enjoy -- and much love, Soup dear! xoxo

x~x~x~x

“Down here, down here,” panted Mr. Weasley, taking two steps at a time. “The lift doesn’t even come down this far…why they’re doing it there…”

They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to that which led to Snape’s dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes.

“Courtroom…Ten…I think…we’re nearly … yes.”

As Arthur Weasley rushed down the hall toward Courtroom Ten, he was unaware that in Courtroom Seven, the door of which was left slightly ajar, Carewyn Cromwell was speaking to her estranged uncle, the new head of the Cromwell Clan, at that very moment, nor that their conversation would ultimately determine Harry’s fate in that courtroom happening just three doors down.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Blaise, and you know that full well.”

“I merely wished to speak with the Minister, little Winnie -- you are aware of how much our family still supports the Ministry and, by extension, your career, are you not?”

Carewyn fixed Blaise with a very cold blue eye. “And I suppose Lucius Malfoy speaking with the Minister down here mere moments ago had nothing to do with you making an unscheduled visit?”

Blaise cocked his eyebrows, his identically colored and shaped eyes narrowing under them.

“I can sense you trying to enter my mind, Winnie,” he said very softly, his eyes rippling like light blue flames despite the hardness of his face. “It won’t work. You couldn’t reach my thoughts when you were a girl, and you can’t reach them now.”

His voice became cooler, to the point of sounding condescending.

“Whatever questions you have, you know your uncle would be more than willing to answer them, if you merely ask nicely.”

‘Answer’ -- ha! Carewyn thought to herself scornfully. Lie your face off, more like. But even so...if I’m going to get what I need, I need to keep him talking...

Carewyn went very quiet, considering Blaise carefully and her next words even more so.

“...Are you or are you not associating with Lucius Malfoy?” she asked softly.

“You might recall that he and Father were business associates back in the day.”

“Of course I do. That’s why I’m asking. Or have you forgotten where Grandfather’s activities sentenced him -- where they sentenced you, until you were able to bribe the Minister to reduce the rest of your family’s sentences?”

“Our family, little Winnie,” Blaise corrected her, a notable, fiery edge to his voice.

You all may be related to me by blood, but you are not my family, Carewyn thought fiercely, but she once again bit her tongue. If she provoked his temper the way she was tempted to, he’d be less likely to talk to her.

When she didn’t respond, Blaise continued.

“Lucius Malfoy has always had a working relationship with the Cromwell Clan. It’s only natural that we speak from time to time, as two patriarchs of prominent magical families.”

“Magical families with certain reputations, you mean,” Carewyn said very coolly.

“Cornelius Fudge thinks very highly of Lucius Malfoy.”

“And of you, thanks to your impressive acting. But that doesn’t extend to everyone else, and you know it.”

“Of course,” said Blaise with a very cool smirk. “That’s something we have in common, isn’t it, Winnie? Putting on a charming face to get what we want, and not caring who hates us for it?”

Carewyn didn’t care enough to argue this point -- she’d already had this sort of discussion with Rakepick several times back in the day, and she knew that it meant Blaise was not only trying to divert the conversation, but also was absolutely full of it.

You’re acting like this fact makes us just as bad as each other, Blaise, but it doesn’t. Even if we have some similarities in our methods, that does not make us the same. I’ve never terrorized people to try to advance myself. I’ve never manipulated or forced anyone to join a criminal organization. I’ve never masqueraded as my nephew in order to try to manipulate my niece into selling her soul and her freedom just to save him. However much I’m not perfect, I’m head-and-shoulders above you, when it comes to the moral high ground.

But honestly, there was no point in arguing with people like Blaise. It wasn’t like she’d ever convince him that everything he thought was wrong -- that Muggles weren’t inferior, Charles Cromwell was an abusive monster, and everything he and the Cromwell Clan did to try to get Carewyn, Jacob, and Lane back under their control was reprehensible rather than justified -- and she didn’t feel enough passion to try. Especially not when there were more important things happening at that very moment...

Harry would be in the courtroom by now. She had to hurry.

Although Carewyn tried to keep her face stoic, her brain was working very fast. Her eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall of the courtroom where the Wizengamot benches were lined up.

“...Look,” she said slowly, her voice becoming a little softer, “my Legilimency has become very sensitive, in this line of work. It allows me to read people’s intentions and feelings very quickly, even when I’m not actively trying to. And Lucius Malfoy...he doesn’t see you as an equal, but as a pawn.”

Blaise’s eyebrows came down over his eyes, but he didn’t respond.

“You and the rest of the Cromwell Clan only got out of Azkaban because you were able to appeal to Fudge,” said Carewyn, “but if you’re associating with the wrong people, that could very quickly sour. Your position will become uncertain again, and you won’t be able to protect them -- especially if Fudge gets the kind of control over the Wizengamot that he wants...where charges and judgments are laid down based on favoritism more than legality. We’re already seeing it with how Fudge is now treating Dumbledore and Potter, after how much he always sucked up to them. End up outside of Fudge’s good graces, as they did, and the same might befall you. I realize that you and Malfoy...”

Are Muggle-hating bigots.

“...have similar politics,” she said at last very stiffly, “...but Lucius Malfoy’s politics are far more extreme than yours, and although the courts decided there wasn’t enough evidence to prove his methods were also...we both know that’s also true. If he falls, he will drag you down with him -- and if you take the fall for his actions, he won’t lift a finger to help you.”

Carewyn forced herself to look Blaise in the eye.

“Grandfather’s dealings with R got you all in enough trouble. You bought yourself and the rest of...our family a second chance -- something many others did not get. Are you sure you want to endanger that?”

Blaise considered Carewyn very carefully as she spoke, his blue eyes boring into hers critically. By the end, they’d actually widened.

“...Are you actually expressing concern for us, Winnie?” he asked very lowly.

Carewyn scoffed. “Don’t misunderstand me, Blaise -- I don’t really think you all deserved a second chance in the first place, after everything you’ve pulled.”

Her blue eyes became a bit more solemn.

“But truthfully...I’m not that upset that you were released from Azkaban. Dementors...they’re wretched creatures. I’ve seen what they can do to people.”

Her expression darkened.

“...I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, however terrible they are.”

Something confused and almost disgusted rippled over Blaise’s face, making his nose wrinkle.

“Ugh -- and here I’d thought you’d actually weeded out that weakness in your heart...”

Carewyn’s red lips came together tightly, but she didn’t reply. The two stared each other down for a moment, before Blaise finally exhaled.

“Very well, Winnie -- you want to know why I’m down here?”

He reached into his scarlet robes and pulled out a gold chain, on the end of which dangled a tiny gold hourglass.

A Time Turner.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon it.

“Lucius Malfoy has expressed quite a bit of interest in my old department, when we’ve spoken,” murmured Blaise. “One sub-section in particular -- one where records of magical predictions are kept.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. “Prophecies?”

“They are truly a fascinating thing,” said Blaise, his voice sounding rather airy. “So much value is placed on them -- too much, one could argue...just as one puts too much value on all attempts at ‘future sight.’ Alas, the section of my old department that Malfoy was interested in was not my area of expertise -- my area was in the study of Time, specifically backwards-facing. We did occasionally dip into the study of forward-facing time magic, but more in the sphere of inevitabilities -- things that evolve naturally in nature, every season -- not human affairs. Unfortunately when I was there, there was an employee monitoring the perimeter of the section I meant to enter -- I couldn’t have explored further even if I’d wanted to.”

“So Malfoy wanted you to stop by your old desk and pick up something that might help him or someone else enter the Department of Mysteries?” Carewyn asked. “Why?”

Blaise shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

“And yet you have a suspicion as to why?”

Blaise’s eyes narrowed upon Carewyn’s face, not angrily, but almost darkly.

“I may no longer work for the Department of Mysteries, Winnie, but I cannot discuss the more classified branches of their work too deeply. That is part of the Vow I made when I first joined the Department -- it forces me to speak in hypotheticals and vague descriptions more than specific details. But I fear no random stooge using this tool to try to enter my old department, whether Malfoy or otherwise. In fact,” he added with a smirk, “I would frankly love to see them try.”

He ignored Carewyn’s critical, confused expression and pressed on more seriously.

“You’re not a stupid girl, Winnie. I know you know what’s really going on, under the surface. Me offering assistance to Lucius Malfoy early on is merely how I intend to earn enough favor to keep my family safe, should the worst happen.”

“And what is that?” asked Carewyn.

Blaise cocked his eyebrows again. “Ask your mother. She remembers the First Wizarding War just as well as I do -- how it all started before.”

He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“Blaise.”

Carewyn speaking his name and sharply grabbing his arm holding the Time Turner made him stop.

“If you wish to provide Lucius Malfoy useful information,” she said lowly, “you can tell him that that employee was not there by accident.”

Blaise looked back over his shoulder, startled. Carewyn closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the intense nausea rippling over her.

“He’s there to make sure Malfoy’s superior can’t reach what he wants,” she murmured. “There are many more, just like him, all with the same goal. It doesn’t matter when you go there -- there will always be someone there who will keep him away from what he wants.”

Blaise stared at Carewyn, his eyes narrowing in bewilderment.

“...Why are you telling me this?” he whispered.

Carewyn swallowed back the lump in her throat.

“I haven’t worked with time magic like you have...but people aren’t supposed to be in two places at once. That I do know. A lot of problems have been caused by people trying to mess with time. Mum told me that once in the 19th century, a whole bunch of people’s lives were erased out of existence, all because someone messed around with a Time Turner...”

“Ah, yes, Eloise Mintumble,” said Blaise, sounding as darkly amused as a bully might upon seeing one of their usual targets wearing a particularly obnoxious dress. “Tried to go back more than a few hours and ended up changing things so dramatically that she both erased 25 people out of existence and aged her body five centuries and died upon return trip. A rather fascinating case study.”

“You’re disgusting,” Carewyn said coldly. But she got back to the task at hand, her voice hardening. “Even if Malfoy couldn’t get what his master wants from the Department of Mysteries with that Time Turner, he could still do irreparable damage with it. If all Malfoy needs is assistance, to believe that you’re helping him and for you to earn enough esteem that the Cromwell Clan stays safe...then give him the intelligence I’ve given you. Don’t give him that Time Turner.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a rather condescending smirk. “Why? Because it’s wrong, little Winnie? Because it’s illegal and immoral, and ‘not the right thing to do?’”

“I’m not foolish enough to appeal to you with morality, Blaise -- I know you don’t have any,” spat Carewyn. “I’m asking you not to do it for your own self-preservation. For the Clan’s. ...For your family’s.”

Blaise’s smirk actually slid off his face. Carewyn held his gaze as best as she could, even with how ill she felt.

“I may not be one of those who takes turns standing watch in your old department,” Carewyn said very softly, “but Jacob is.”

Blaise’s face went rather white, and Carewyn knew she’d struck a cord. For as cruel, selfish, and immoral of a person as Blaise was, he still saw his family -- all of it -- like his personal belongings. And he “took care” of his belongings. He wanted complete control over them and, like Charles before him, he never respected them as people, nurtured them, or gave them any freedom...but Blaise didn’t want anyone touching “his things.”

The older man’s jaw clenched as a rather dark glint flashed through his eyes.

“...I see.”

His teeth still bared, he extended the hand holding the Time Turner’s gold chain and, very slowly, lowered it into Carewyn’s hand.

Carewyn’s eyes softened in relief.

“Thank you.”

Blaise exhaled heatedly through his nose.

“Jacob always was a fool,” he growled, his voice full of resentment. “Risking his life for people like that Muggle filth who abandoned you and your mother -- ”

“Better than selling his soul and freedom to serve the person who locked my mother and all of you up like prisoners,” Carewyn shot back rather coolly.

Blaise’s eyes flashed angrily. “You will not speak ill of your grandfather, Winnie! Everything he ever did in his life was for us, including you, your brother, and your mother, and I will not have you forgetting that!”

“Crow that lie as much as you want -- it won’t ever make it true.”

Blaise seethed as Carewyn pocketed the Time Turner in her robes. Slowly, his temper cooled enough that his lips spread back out into a rather vindictive smirk.

“For the record, Winnie...Time moves in a loop. If Lucius Malfoy were to use the Time Turner after I give it to him a half-hour from now, the effects would’ve already been felt by us by now. We would have heard about someone having broken into the Department of Mysteries before our conversation even started. The fact that we are not hearing that means that he never receives the Time Turner from me. So, in fact, it was already clear that I would give you the Time Turner before I actually did -- ”

“Oh, shut your trap,” Carewyn said tiredly. Just listening to Blaise wax on was giving her a headache. “I don’t even want to try unpacking all that time travel rubbish. All I care about is that Malfoy and his ilk can’t try to mess with time, now or ever.”

She turned on her heel and strode for the slightly ajar door. Pushing it further open, she then looked back over her shoulder at Blaise.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of. Stay out of trouble, or I will not hesitate to prosecute you.”

Blaise’s eyes were very cold even around his smirk. “If there’s anyone who should be warned to stay out of trouble, it’s you, Winnie. I’m not the only one who’s aligned themselves with people who could drag them down, if they fall.”

“Perhaps,” said Carewyn mildly. “But my friends will catch me if I fall, just as they have before. Just like I always catch them. That makes all the difference.”

She walked away, her heels clapping against the black tiled floor as she strode to the end of the hall, listening at the door of Courtroom Ten. She could hear several voices talking inside -- after a moment, she recognized two as Amelia Bones and Cornelius Fudge.

“...certainly described the effects of a dementor attack very accurately. And I can’t imagine why she would say they were there if they weren’t -- ”

“But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard! The odds on that must be very, very long, even Bagman wouldn’t have bet -- ”

“Oh, I don’t think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence,” said a very misty, serene voice from inside the Courtroom.

Carewyn’s shoulders relaxed, even as her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling.

Dumbledore. He’d made it in time.

Exhaling heavily, Carewyn quickly turned back around and walked briskly back down the hallway, back upstairs toward her office. On the way, she walked by Blaise, who was now deep in quiet conversation with Lucius Malfoy, and Carewyn and Malfoy coldly stared each other down as she passed.

x~x~x~x

Carewyn hated keeping the Time Turner in her desk. She wanted to be rid of the thing immediately, but she knew she had to be patient.

Around 11:00, just before lunchtime, Carewyn asked to borrow a Dungbomb from Tonks and covertly dropped off it just outside the Auror Department on her way back to her tiny office. The resulting smell resulted in the entire floor clearing out, until someone could deal with the smell. Carewyn herself, however, stayed in her office and powered through, spraying some Muggle air freshener to try to mask the smell.

I forgot how much I hate Dungbombs, Carewyn thought dully. Oh well...desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.

Keeping the files on a case she was working on open on either side of her, Carewyn read through them every-so-often as she pecked away at a letter she had to write. This letter had to be concise and to the point, if its recipient was going to know it was safe and exactly what she had to do, to help keep Harry Potter from getting unjustly expelled.

Right on time, three hours after Harry’s hearing, Carewyn’s Legilimency picked up the feeling that someone was approaching her office. A moment later, there was a knock on her door.

The ginger-haired lawyer exhaled heavily, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Come in,” she said.

Although she kept her voice level, she already felt a headache coming on. She knew who was on the other side of that door -- and sure enough, when it opened, in came tall, silver-bearded Albus Dumbledore, dressed in long midnight-blue robes.

Carewyn’s eyes hardened as the Hogwarts Headmaster closed the door behind him.

“Hello, Carewyn,” Dumbledore said pleasantly.

“You got my message from Tonks, then?” Carewyn asked.

“To come straight to your office as soon as I arrived, but to not let anyone see me entering? Yes. Though I daresay the evacuation of this floor thanks to the smell of Dungbombs helped with that considerably,” said Dumbledore, and his light blue eyes twinkled. “I presume it has something to do with why some members of the Wizengamot were asking what I was doing back here so soon, and why Cornelius looked even more sour at my presence than usual.”

Carewyn’s face was twisted in a deep frown as she finally took the Time Turner out of the drawer and put it on top of her desk.

“The time and place of Harry’s hearing was changed three hours ago, with no notice,” she said stridently. “The hearing originally scheduled for 11 o’clock instead was moved to 8 o’clock at 7:58 this morning. The letter was sent by owl to Privet Drive at 7:59, right before a second letter informing Harry that because he didn’t show up for his hearing, he was presumed guilty and therefore expelled from Hogwarts. Both letters arrived at 8:52. The Order wasn’t informed of the change until a little after 9, but was also informed by Arthur Weasley that you’d had the matter well in hand and had arrived miraculously early.”

“And so they felt no need to send me any post regarding the matter,” presumed Dumbledore with a dewy smile. “But in order for all of that to have happened, I will have to go back and ensure it does happen -- isn’t that so?”

Carewyn nodded curtly as she handed the Time Turner and a sealed envelope to Dumbledore.

“Three turns back should be enough -- you don’t want to risk changing too much, by arriving too early, and I have a closed-door meeting with Chester Davies prior to that. Give this letter to me as soon as you arrive in the past. As soon as she...escorts you out, head straight for Courtroom Ten. You should arrive just after Harry does -- it shouldn’t raise as much suspicion if you make it to the courtroom after Harry, since he was already in Arthur’s office when he first received word of the change...”

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with some mischief. “Clever as always, Carewyn, my dear. You do the Order very proud.”

Carewyn’s eyes flashed. “I’m not doing this for you or your ‘Order,’ Dumbledore, as you know full well. Jacob was completely at R’s mercy after he was expelled from Hogwarts, and I don’t want to even think about where Potter might end up, if the same thing happened to him. And if Jacob’s guarding something in the Department of Mysteries, I don’t want to make it any easier for You-Know-Who and his goons to get the drop on him.”

Dumbledore’s calm didn’t shift, though his eyes did turn a bit more solemn. “And as always, Carewyn, your cleverness is only rivaled by your caring for others.”

Rising to his feet, the Headmaster tucked the envelope inside his robes and then picked up the Time Turner.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he said cheerily, “or, should I say, ‘I will have seen you?’”

And with three turns, he’d disappeared.

Carewyn gave an exhausted, groan-like sigh.

“I hate Time Turners,” she muttered to herself.

x~x~x~x

When Dumbledore appeared in Carewyn’s office out of the blue at 8 o’clock that morning, the ginger-haired lawyer reacted with a lot of irritation and suspicion. Those feelings weren’t helped when Dumbledore handed her the letter addressed to her, and yet written in a hand identical to hers.

Carewyn,

First of all, yes, I know you recognize this handwriting. This isn’t a trick -- it’s just the work of a Time Turner: specifically the one Dumbledore’s holding. On that note, ask him to hand it over and then smash it. We have more than enough problems in the here and now: no sense in adding more time travel rubbish to the pile.

Now that that’s been taken care of, let’s get to business --

The time and place of Harry’s hearing was moved just a minute ago. It now starts at 8 o’clock in the morning in Courtroom Ten. Don’t worry, Arthur’s already been notified and is ferrying Harry as we speak, but Dumbledore needs to get down there right now. Kick him out of your office, nice and loudly -- there are people outside who could overhear, and you don’t want anyone to think you and Dumbledore are on good terms. Which, fortunately, you’re not.

Now that Dumbledore’s out of your hair, let’s go over what you need to do --

Blaise has sneaked into the Ministry, specifically the bottommost floor near the Department of Mysteries, on Lucius Malfoy’s direction. No, Blaise isn’t a Death Eater -- just short-sighted and self-serving as ever. The point is that he has a Time Turner on his person, which he cannot be allowed to walk away with, under any circumstances. You’ll be able to catch him leaving the Department of Mysteries if you go downstairs in the next fifteen minutes. He’ll be meeting Lucius Malfoy around 8:30, in the middle of Harry’s hearing, so don’t let him walk away without getting that Time Turner away from him. Don’t come at the issue straight-on, though -- you can appeal to Blaise to give it to you willingly. Just keep him talking. Once you have the Time Turner, you can hold onto it until Dumbledore arrives in your office at the time that was originally scheduled for Harry’s hearing, so he can use it to go back far enough to arrive at Harry’s hearing on time.

I know, this Time Travel stuff is absolutely bloody ridiculous. But at least this way Malfoy won’t be able to use the Time Turner Blaise stole to cause even more havoc.

Burn this letter as soon as you’re done reading it. We don’t want anyone coming across it.

Good luck.

As for Dumbledore himself, he arrived at Harry’s hearing right on time, all according to plan.

“Ah,” said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. “Dumbledore. Yes. You --er -- got our -- er -- message that the time and -- er -- place of the hearing had been changed, then?”

“I must have missed it,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #harry potter #fanfiction #carewyn cromwell #albus dumbledore #cornelius fudge #amelia bones #blaise cromwell #lucius malfoy #time turners #AHHHHHH #YES IT ALL COMES TOGETHER #this took a while to write but it was worth it #but yeah my mum loathes time travel stories #she's a scientist at heart so the illogicality of them just drives her crazy #jacob honestly doesn't like working with dumbledore any more than carewyn does but he does see 'the greater good' of it #so he ends up being a guard not just for the prophecy but also later on for people escaping the death eaters #he likewise just barely evades ministry scrutiny enough to be able to hide people during the War #yes carewyn's choice ultimately does lead to negative fall-out like bode getting imperiused and arthur getting attacked by nagini #which of course carey-bear deeply regrets #but at the same time how much more damage might she have prevented? we'll never know #sometimes in war you have to make bad choices to try to mitigate even worse consequences :(

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

there are ghosts in the sky, i

i. what if they leave me shattered in the stars?

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: character death, violence, mentions of blood, injuries, fighting, anxiety, language, drugging, puking, angst.

Summary: Sanctum is beautiful, but the moon’s beautiful facade is hiding a dark secret. a dark secret that you find out about in the worst way possible.

a/n: here it is!!! part one of my s6 au for sub rosa! please let me know what you think!!!

au series masterlist // sub rosa masterlist // full masterlist

You already hate everything about this moon.

Officially, you’ve only been on it a little more than 24 hours. And in that time, you’ve been attacked by bugs, watched Shaw die, and have watched all of your friends slowly lose their minds to sun induced psychosis. Unfortunately, you are now among them.

You stand staring at Murphy, who’s muttering something about getting in position, but all you can hear is your father and Shumway yelling at you from the TV behind you. Their voices are deafeningly loud, taking over every thought in your head and pushing it away, until the only thing you can hear or think about or see is the knife in your hand, their voices urging you to use it.

But Murphy shakes you hard, sensing the return of your turmoil, and you slide the knife back into its holster, giving him a resolute nod. “I’m ready.”

He eyes you with skepticism, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Murphy, I’m sure.”

“Okay, because two seconds ago you were staring at your knife like it was-”

You cut him off with a glare, “I said, I’m sure. Now go get into position.”

He gives you one last skeptical look before slipping out the door, and you watch him go, taking a deep breath and starting to sing in an attempt to keep the voices at bay. You wait anxiously for Murphy to get in his place, but after a few minutes you can’t stand the wait anymore, so you slip out of the room in search of your boyfriend. You can hear him yelling from somewhere near the pond, so you walk that way, wringing your hands, hoping that all of this goes according to plan.

Bellamy seems surprised to see you walk from between the buildings and out into the open, your voice soft and comforting as you call out to him, “Hey Bell.”

He turns to look at you, glaring, his eyes falling to your hands, which now twitch nervously near your knife. “Are you scared of me? That’s funny, because I should be scared of you, Wanlida.”

He says the nickname mockingly, further reminding you of why you hate it. You smile at him, trying to stay calm, slowly grabbing the knife and tossing it away from you in an act of good faith. “I just want to talk, Bellamy. The eclipse is getting to your head, and you’re not acting like yourself. This isn’t you.”

“How would you know what’s me? I spent six years without you. You don't know who I am!”

“You’re wrong, Bellamy. I know exactly who you are. I always have. You’re the guy who’s willing to do anything for his sister. You’re a leader to our people, who has made so many sacrifices to save us. You’re the love of my life, who has been there for me at every turn.”

“The love of your life?” He laughs, and you can tell he’s trying to bait you. “Is that why I fell in love with someone else?”

And though you know he only says the words to get a rise out of you, to bring out your rage and make you stoop to his level, you can't ignore it. You let out a scream of anger and dive at Bellamy, intending to knock him off his feet and distract him while Murphy gasses him. “Murphy, do it! Do it now!”

Except the gas never comes.

Instead, Bellamy rolls away from you, jumping to his feet, and you scramble to yours quickly as he stalks towards you. You lift your fists in defense of yourself, not wanting to fight Bellamy. You’ve seen him spar people and defeat them easily, you’ve seen him actually fight people and defeat them easily. He has a height advantage and size advantage on you, not to mention the fact that you’re already heavily injured from your near death experience in Shallow Valley. But eclipse Bellamy cares about none of that. Instead he lunges at you, grabbing you by the shoulders, holding you in place as he punches you so hard in the stomach that you double over with a gasp of pain. He tosses you to the ground and kicks you in the side, his boot connecting with your ribs, and you hold back a cry of pain, sure that there's going to be a bruise there by morning. He grabs you by your jacket and pulls you to your feet again, swinging a punch at you so hard that pain immediately explodes across your eye and cheekbone. You’re sure that your healing black eye is now going to be much worse, and you hit the ground hard, landing on your back, trying to find the will to keep fighting Bellamy.

Luckily, you don't have to, because Murphy has finally arrived. Unfortunately for him, Bellamy sees him coming and knocks the gas can out of his hand before he can use it, punching him in rapid succession, one after the next. Murphy is still trying to recover from the hits when Bellamy grabs his knife wound and digs in, before delivering subsequent hits to the injured man’s bullet wounds, the same wounds Murphy received while trying to save him. Murphy cries out in pain, and Bellamy seizes his moment of weakness to toss him into the pond, splashing in after him to grab him and hold him beneath the water. You pull yourself to your feet, the sight of Murphy's impending danger lighting a fire within you, and you rush towards the pair as Bellamy grinds out, “I will keep us safe!”

You grab Bellamy when you’re close enough, trying hard to pull him off of Murphy and save him, but Bellamy turns and hits you again, knocking you back into the water with a splash. You fall into the pond, your head sinking beneath it, and you close your eyes as you sink, wondering if you should just let yourself drown. But your survival instinct kicks in, and you get a rush of adrenaline strong enough to pull you out of the water and over to Bellamy. You shove him off of Murphy, towards the pond’s edge, and you swing a punch at him so fast he never sees it coming. It’s powerful enough to knock him backwards onto the ground, and you run back to the pond and grab Murphy, dragging him out of the water as he lies in it, still and unmoving.

You see Bellamy moving from the corner of your eye, but you don't pay attention, too worried about Murphy’s still form. You drop him onto the ground, falling to his side and immediately starting chest compressions, hoping and praying that he coughs up the water in his lungs. You can see Bellamy stalking towards you, but he freezes in place when your twin’s voice screams out for the first time in hours, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Bellamy turns on her with a sinister smile, and you see the two of them spar as you continue to help Murphy, sending prayers to the Universe to save his life. You almost cry in relief when they answer them, Murphy turning his head to violently cough up the water that nearly killed him. Your relief is short lived though, ending when you hear a body thud to the ground nearby. You look up in horror and realize that it’s your twin, and Bellamy stands over her, smiling at you. “Clarke!”

The scream that rips though you is absolutely heartbreaking, and you move over to her as fast as you can, dropping at her side and pressing your fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse. This time, you do cry in relief when you find one, your twin only temporarily knocked out, not dead. But you don't get long to process this, because Bellamy grabs you and yanks you backwards until you're flat on your back, and then he straddles you, his hands lifting up to your throat. Your eyes instantly widen in alarm, your hatred of choking to death already so powerful, but especially at the hands of the man you love. Murphy tries to help you, but Bellamy easily knocks him away, still too weak from his near death experience. He weakly yells, “Stop it, man, you’re killing her! You’re gonna kill the girl you love!”

But Bellamy doesn't stop. If anything, his grip gets tighter, the stars of unconsciousness exploding around the edges of your vision. You reach down for your Grounder knife, panic surging through you when you remember you discarded it earlier in an effort to keep the peace. Lot of good that’s doing you now. Your feet start to kick as you struggle for air, sending pain through the stitches in your calf, lighting up a memory in your brain. The skull knife. You reach down to your uninjured calf, grabbing the knife from its holster and immediately plunging it into Bellamy’s thigh. He lets out a gut wrenching yell of pain, and you take in a dizzyingly large rush of air, filling your lungs up with oxygen again.

You hear Murphy weakly call your name, and you turn to look at him, a gas canister held tight in his hand. You push Bellamy off of you and crawl towards Murphy, grabbing the can from his hand just as Bellamy grabs your ankle and pulls you towards him. He flips you over, straddling you again, and before you can even register the knife that is now clutched in his hand, he plunges it into your side. A scream of pain rips itself from your throat, but it gets cut off by Bellamy’s hands, which have lifted to your throat and are now squeezing the air out of your body again. Without wasting another second, you grab the pin on the gas can and pull, releasing the gas in a cloud that overtakes the three of you instantly. You get light headed as soon as you breathe it in, your head lulling to the side, and you feel Bellamy drop to the ground beside you as the gas reaches him, all of you unconscious within seconds.

You wake to chaos.

Your mother, somehow, is now on this god forsaken moon with you, along with Raven, Jordan, Octavia, Jackson, and a prisoner.

But you care about none of that. Instead, you’re worried about Bellamy, the man you love, the man you had to stab, and you sit up and shift over to him. You place your hand on his cheek and whisper his name softly, and he blinks awake slowly, his eyes opening to find you. You can hear the soft chatter of conversation behind you, but you ignore it and focus only on Bellamy, helping him to sit up and face you. He clutches his leg in pain, and he looks down at it, eyes landing on the knife wound, before turning to you with horror. Tears instantly spring to your eyes and you whisper, “I’m sorry, I had to.”

His hand lifts to your face, tilting your head to get a look at your darkening eye, before he tips your chin to get a look at the bruises that are already starting to form around your neck. You ignore the pain that’s radiating from your side, and you hope he’s forgotten the stab wound he gave you in return, but he hasn’t. He carefully lifts the edge of your shirt to peer at the wound, and you see the horror in his face deepen. You realize now that he isn't horrified that you stabbed him, he’s horrified that you had to. He reaches out for you, pulling you into a hug, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to hide the tears falling down his face. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, whispering, “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, tears starting to spill down your face as you smile at him. “There's nothing to be sorry for, my love.”

He seems prepared to disagree, but the words never come, because at this moment, the people of this moon have started to arrive back at their home. A home which now has a group of invaders from Earth, all possessing different levels of injuries and consciousness. The worst among you is Murphy, who chooses this moment to begin seizing. You shift away from Bellamy and scramble over to Murphy’s side, watching in horror as he takes one loud breath and then stops. Your mother frantically rips his shirt open to begin CPR, revealing a dark color that is spider webbing through Murphy’s veins, marking the space on his chest. As your mom frantically tries to save Murphy's life, all of you watch on in horror, sending up your prayers to the Universe, wondering how many prayers it’ll answer for you before they stop listening.

The Universe has decided that it isn’t tired of you yet, and it answers by sending a man to you, impeccably dressed, clearly the leader of these people. However, this man takes one look at all of you and turns to the guards that hover nearby, waiting for orders. “Move them back.”

The guards point their spears towards all of you, pushing you back and away, leaving Murphy on the ground alone. Your mom looks at the leader with anger. “What are you doing? He'll die!”

“You want my help or not?” At the mention of assistance, you all become compliant, moving away and giving the man the space he asked for. Bellamy walks over to you, coming to a stop beside you as the man drops to Murphy’s side and lifts up his shirt. “He's already dead. Fortunately for him, death is not the end.”

He calls out, “Cillian!”

A man, Cillian, materializes from the crowd, coming to stop beside his leader, who whispers, “He was exposed to the seaweed during the red sun. Do it.”

Your brows come together, wondering what that means, and you exchange a look with both Clarke and Bellamy, both of them just as curious. The man kneels down beside Murphy and reaches into his bag, pulling out a snake. You all look at it in shock as the leader informs you, “We call it Kepa-She, it means hideous snake in Chinese.”

Cillian holds the snake to Murphy’s side, encouraging it to bite him, as you all watch on in horror. Clarke mutters, “Oh, my God.”

The man looks up at her, expression understanding. “Trust me, I know, but the venom degrades too quickly to deliver it in any other form.”

Miraculously, the darkness that has traveled through Murphy's veins and spread across his body starts to retreat, moving back towards the source of the venom. You blink hard a few times, unsure if your eyes are working right, and when you look at Murphy again, you see now that he’s healed, his skin clear of the darkness. You feel a rush of relief and you mutter, “It's working.”

And that’s the last thing you remember before passing out.

This time, pain wakes you up.

Your eyes fly open and you sit up, your side on fire, and you flail your arms at whoever is gathered around you, forcing them to jump away from you. There’s a layer of sweat across your skin, your breathing slightly labored, and your wide eyes frantically look around, falling on Bellamy, then Clarke, and then the man from before, Cillian. They’re all holding their arms up in surrender, and Bellamy’s voice is soft and comforting when he whispers, “Natshana, it's just us. Cillian was trying to stitch up your stab wound.”

You see guilt pass over his features before you drop your gaze down to your side, the wound half stitched, a needle still stuck in your skin. Clarke’s voice is anxious when she calls your name and adds, “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Please let him finish.”

You look up into your twin’s anxious face before turning to look at Cillian, who gives you a small smile, trying to reassure you. Finally you nod, the movement small, before laying back down on the makeshift operating table they’ve created for you. Cillian comes over to you slowly, waiting for you to jump away again, and when you don't he resumes his stitching. Clarke and Bellamy come to either side of you, both of them taking your hands, allowing you to squeeze them every time you get a flash of pain.

You try to keep yourself distracted by looking at the room around you, all of you locked up in some sort of tavern. Your body is stretched out between two tables that have been pushed together, and when you glance to your left, you see that Murphy is in a similar position, eyes still closed, Emori now gazing down at him with worry. Your gaze is pulled from the couple as Cillian takes a deep breath, and you look at him, thinking he’s about to say something. As he finishes up the knot of your last stitch, he muses, “I checked your friend Murphy’s wounds. His blood is red.”

It’s not a question, but you can tell he’s fishing for information. Something within you tells you to offer him as little as possible, unsure if you can trust these people at all. Which is why you nod and answer, “Most people’s blood tends to be red.”

He gives you a strange look, and you give him one in return, the two of you staring at each other in silence until Clarke clears her throat. “Is she okay?”

He nods, his eyes still locked on you. “She’s good to go.”

And then he shifts his gaze to her, forcing a smile to his face. “She should just take it easy for a few days.”

Clarke nods, accepting his instructions before nodding to the exit. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

You, of course, do not take it easy for a few days.

Despite the disagreements of your mother, your twin, and your boyfriend, you accompany Bellamy and the others on the rescue mission for Madi. Your wounds do not hold you back as much as you expected them to, your body clearly adjusted to surviving, even while injured. Maybe you can thank Mount Weather for that.

Still, all seems well when you return, because Madi is safe and so are the others. Diyoza gets kicked out of Sanctum, but the rest of you are told you can stay, and that Russell and his people will show all of you how to survive on this chaotic moon.

Your celebrations are short lived though, because that night, when everyone else is asleep, Clarke comes to your shared room with Bellamy. “Can I come in?”

You turn to look at Bellamy, who nods, just as eager to hear about what all of you missed while you were gone earlier. So you step back and usher her into the room, closing the door softly behind her as she steps inside. The three of you pile into the bed facing each other, and your gaze drops down to your twin’s bandaged hand. “What happened? Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”

“As soon as you guys left, Russell invited me to dinner with him and Simone so we could discuss whether we’d be allowed to stay. Unfortunately for us, Jordan spent most of his time talking to Delilah, telling her everything about us, the good and the bad. It got back to Russell and Simone, and they decided that we couldn’t stay because we’re violent people and violence spreads like a disease.”

“That explains your shock at Russell letting us stay. So what changed his mind? We heard him mention you saving Delilah, but how did you save her?”

“As soon as I got back from the dinner and changed, I went looking for Jordan because I was pissed that he ruined everything for us. But when I went to the roof to find him, he was passed out on a cot with a paralytic dart in his neck. He managed to point out a guy running away from the tavern with a covered wheelbarrow, which we later found out had Delilah inside. I chased after him, along with the guard, but we split up so he could go inform Russell. I eventually found the guy and fought him off, but he cut my hand in the process and he freaked out as soon as he saw my Nightblood.”

“Weird.”

She shakes her head, giving you a serious look. “It gets weirder. Russell and Cillian both saw my blood too and they acted really strange about it. Russell eventually cut his finger to show me that he too is a Nightblood. He said our blood is royal. Delilah’s too, which is why they took her. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like how everyone reacted when they found out about our blood, which is why we need to make sure that they don’t find out about Madi. Cillian already knows about you because he stitched you up, and I’m sure he’s already told Russell.”

You nod, thinking of Cillian’s weirdness with you earlier. “Suddenly Cillian’s reaction to seeing my blood makes a lot more sense.”

Clarke mutters, “It feels like I have a target on my back.”

You reach out and take her hand, preparing to comfort her, but she shakes her head a little, sending the thoughts away, before she turns her gaze to Bellamy. “What happened to Octavia?”

He sighs, his shoulders sagging as she reminds him of what he’s done to protect all of you and your fragile alliance with Sanctum. “I left her behind. As long as she’s in Sanctum, she’s a threat to the peace we’re trying to achieve.”

You see Clarke open her mouth, looking like she wants to ask more, but you can tell from Bellamy’s body language that he doesn't want to say anything beyond that. So you squeeze Clarke’s hand, giving her a subtle shake of your head. “We’re exhausted and in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. Can we talk more in the morning?”

She nods, smiling a little, already sliding off the bed. “Of course.”

You follow her to the door, both of you hugging before she slips out into the hall with a quiet whisper of, “Good night, lovebirds.”

Leaving you and Bellamy to sleep in peace.

It’s beginning to seem to you that things in Sanctum are always chaotic.

You wake to find that today is Naming Day, though you never really understand what that means. Still, you take part in the city’s festivities, including first confession, and the tying of the ribbon on the lantern. Delilah finds you there and drags you and Clarke away, eager to dress you both for the party being held later in the evening. She dresses you both beautifully, Clarke in dark blue and you in silver, and you and your twin walk to the palace hand in hand, prepared to dance the night away.

Cillian whisks her away as soon as he sees her, and Bellamy grabs you up right after. You spend hours dancing, catching a glimpse of a loved up Clarke and Cillian leaving sometime during the party, and you and Bellamy don't last much longer before you end up ditching the party in favor of some alone time. Bellamy shows you just how much he loves you, reminding you of what you were missing while he was in space, leaving both of you in a hazy high.

Bellamy is the first to fall asleep, but you are too enamored by the lantern ceremony outside, which is why you are now standing at the window, watching as hundreds of lanterns lift in the sky, rising until they are burned to ash by the radiation shield over Sanctum. You think of your ribbon, tied on the lantern above Clarke’s, Wanlida scrawled out on it. You pick a lantern, one that likely isn't even yours, and watch it lift from someone’s hands while you imagine that it’s your own. You feel lighter as it gets higher, taking the sins of Wanlida with it, until it finally hits the radiation shield over Sanctum, setting the lantern on fire and cleansing the sins of your past. It reminds you of a memory, long before Wanlida was a part of you, after Finn was killed for his sins in Tondc. You remember Lexa holding a torch over the bodies of Tondc, Finn among them, and Lincoln translating for all of you as she addressed the people gathered there in Trigedasleng. “Raun faya, oso woda klin laudnes-de kom foutaim.”

You feel arms wrap around your waist from behind, making you jump in surprise, despite knowing that it’s Bellamy. He drops his chin to your shoulder, translating your words. “In fire, we cleanse the pain of the past.”

You turn to look at him, seeing only parts of his face because he’s so close to you still. “Do you remember?”

He whispers back, “I remember.”

You turn back to the window, both of you watching the last of the lanterns rise and hit the shield, disappearing forever. Once the sky is clear, Bellamy releases you, reaching for your hand. “Come back to bed.”

You turn to look at him, the smile on his face, and you relent. “Only if you’ll tell me about the gods.”

“I’d love to.”

Both of you crawl back into bed, slipping beneath the covers, turning until you’re facing each other. Bellamy smiles at you with complete adoration before he begins, “Not long ago, the gods created the moon. She lights up even the darkest of nights, guiding travelers along their way. Not long ago, the gods created you.”

He brushes his fingers across your cheekbone, his touch feather light, and you smile at him as he continues, “To other people, you are the moon. But to me, you’re everything. The moon, the sun, the stars. You’re the air I breathe and the love in my heart. You are every leaf, every tree, every moon, planet, and galaxy in this endless Universe. You are everything to me, and you have completely captured my heart from the moment that I met you, though I tried to deny it at first.”

The two of you laugh softly as you remember the animosity that you shared in the beginning. Bellamy starts to sit up, pulling you up with him, both of you turning to face each other as you do. “I have never been loved by someone the way you love me, and I know I’m incredibly lucky that I get to have this. That I get to have you. You have loved me at my best, and you have loved me at my very worst, and even when I am lost and struggling, still you’re there, loving me through it all. You have the biggest heart, one that is so full of love that you are so eager to give, and I love you for that. I love your strength, your vulnerability, your kindness, your beauty. I love everything about you, and I just want to give you the world. I want to protect you, and love you, and make you happy until I draw my last breath. And I’ve been waiting to tell you all of this, waiting for the perfect moment during our new life of peace, but I’m starting to worry that I won’t get that chance.”

He reaches up to push your hair away from your face and you close your eyes and lean into his touch, smiling. When you open your eyes again, his hand is extended between the two of you, a small ring held out in his palm. It’s beautiful; a small round sapphire surrounded by a perimeter of tiny diamonds, all situated on a thin gold band. You look up at Bellamy in shock, his expression one of complete adoration as he whispers, “Will you marry me?”

You look between him and the ring, wondering if he’s joking, but when you meet his eyes again, you can see that he’s completely serious, and still anxiously awaiting your answer. Your face splits into a grin and you practically lunge towards him, pulling him into a hug before peppering kisses all over his face. He laughs, one of those bright pretty ones that you wish you could capture in a bottle and keep forever, and his voice is light with happiness when he says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You kiss him softly on the lips, pulling away just enough to whisper, against them, “Yes.”

His smile gets even wider, and he pulls you in for another hug, before leaning back and holding up the ring again. He takes your hand and slides it onto your left ring finger, both of you marveling at the perfect fit. You admire the ring, and the way it looks on your finger as he whispers, “It was my mother’s.”

You look up at him, your eyes growing wide. “Oh, Bellamy.”

But he smiles, sadness unable to reach him in this moment. “She gave it to me before she was floated, told me to give it to the girl that captures my heart. I didn’t have it when I hopped on the dropship, but when I went back to the ring with the others, I went looking for it. I’ve had it with me everyday since I left you on Earth, carrying it with me to remind myself of the girl that captured my heart.”

Tears of happiness spill over your cheeks and onto the sheets beneath you as you reach out for Bellamy, pulling him towards you and kissing him, pouring all of the love you have for him into it. The two of you fall back into the bed together, kissing each other softly, letting each other know just how deep your love goes.

You wake up sometime in the middle of the night to a crash outside.

You immediately sit up, looking around, your room dark and still. Bellamy is beside you, still fast asleep, but the hairs on your arm are lifted, alerting you that something is wrong. You slide out of bed slowly, careful not to wake Bellamy, quickly pulling on Bellamy’s discarded shirt and a pair of your pants, before slipping out of your room and down the stairs. The ground level of the tavern is dark, lit only by a few lights outside, the establishment long since locked up for the night. Your eyes sweep over the room, finding nothing, and you stand at the bottom of the stairs frozen, listening and watching.

Still, the tavern is empty, no signs of disturbance.

You shake your head, annoyed at yourself, sure that you’re on edge for nothing. You walk over to the bar, reaching for one of the many containers of alcohol, thinking that maybe you just need something to take off some of your edge, something to help mellow you out a bit and forget about the anxiety that always seems to sit beneath your skin. As you slide the bottle across the bar and over to you, you hear the door to the tavern creak open, and you spin around in shock.

You watch a tall figure step inside and pull the door closed behind them, and you tense up, growing worried again, until the figure steps into a beam of light, revealing Cillian. You let out a little laugh of relief, “Cillian, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry. I was just looking for your sister.”

“I thought she was with you, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's fine. She just left earlier to watch the lanterns and I wanted to make sure she made it back here okay.” He steps towards you, into a larger beam of light, his clothes now visible to you. They’re different from his usual, fitted attire. These are much baggier, almost ratty, full of holes and covered in a thin layer of dirt. Something about it sends warning bells off in your head, and you set the bottle of alcohol back on the bar as Cillian smiles at you. “I am curious though, are you and your sister the only two with black blood?”

You think of Clarke mentioning the target on her back, and you can practically feel it being painted onto yours as you force out a casual laugh. “Yes, of course. Red blood is the norm, why would anyone else have anything different?”

Cillian continues to close the space between you, and you look around in a panic, wishing you had your Grounder knife on you. Or a gun, or something. Cillian tips his head to the side as he closes the last few feet of space between you. “Then why are you two different?”

“Genetic anomaly, I suppose. Twins are good for that, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” He forces out a strained laugh before his face drops a little. “You shouldn't be afraid of me.”

You shake your head a little, sliding along the bar, trying to create space between you. You glance up at the stairs, wondering if anyone would hear you from here, before looking back to Cillian. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of you.”

You feel your legs tense up as you eye the stairs again, and without waiting for Cillian’s response, you take off running towards them, opening your mouth to scream as you do. Unfortunately, the scream in your throat dies at the same time you feel a prick in the back of your neck. Your body locks up, as if every cell within you is made of concrete, and you start to fall, caught at the last second by Cillian. Your eyes are wide with fear, genuine terror, and when he turns you around he sees this, lifting you into his arms easily and muttering, “Don't worry, it's a temporary paralytic. By the time we get you to the Children of Gabriel, you'll be fine.”

There is nothing for you to do but allow yourself to be carried out of the tavern in his arms. You try to move, or run, or scream, but your body refuses to obey any of your commands. Cillian is slipping between buildings, jogging lightly, and you’re terrified that you are about to be smuggled out of this village without anyone having a single clue of what happened to you.

Luckily for you, as Cillian steps out from one building and heads to a different one, you are spotted by two guards. They call out to him, trying to get him to stop, but he only picks up the pace, running as fast as he can. The guards split up, and one of them is able to cut him off around the next corner, blocking his path. “Put the girl down!”

Cillian looks down at you, and then to each of the guards that are blocking his exits before muttering, “Fine, okay.”

He sets you down gently, your only view a sliver of the sky and Cillian. He holds up his hands in surrender as he stares at the guard in front of him. “The Primes shouldn’t be allowed to have another host.”

Host? If they could, your brows would furrow, genuinely confused at what is going on. The guard yells back, “Shut up, cog!”

Cillian’s gaze flits down to you, and he whispers, “I am sorry. Death to Primes!”

And before anyone can say anything else, he quickly reaches into the waistband of his pants and pulls out a large knife, before dragging it across his throat. Blood spills out from the wound on his neck, some of it splashing down onto you, before Cillian drops to his knees, and then finally he falls forward, body stretched across you. The guards rush forward and pull him off of you before they check you over, taking in the frantic movements of your eyes. “They used the paralytic, we need to get her to Russell Prime.”

The other guard nods and he scoops you up, and you feel a rush of relief that whatever terrible end you were about to meet is no longer an option. Instead, you will be given to Russell, he will unparalyze you, and you will get back into your bed with Bellamy, putting all of this behind you like it’s just a bad dream.

The guards carry you up to the palace, but instead of taking the stairs to the top they head to a door on the ground level. They knock on the door and wait, before it is opened by none other than Russell himself. “What is it? What happened to her?”

“Sir, Cillian was a traitor. He was one of the Children of Gabriel.”

“Was?”

“He paralyzed her and then tried to leave with her. When we confronted him, he slit his own throat.”

Russell nods, and thinks for a moment before he steps aside and motions for them to enter the room. “Come in, put her on the table there.”

The guard carries you inside, into a semicircle of skeletons, all of them standing and watching you like a creepy, undead army. You are laid out on a table in the center of them before the two guards both leave, presumably to clean up Cillian’s mess. Russell steps into your line of vision, smiling sadly down at you, brushing your hair back and away from your face. You hear a door push open nearby, and the staccato of shoes on the stone floor of whatever room you’re in, before a voice calls out, “What is this?”

Russell looks up and turns to face the figure, which starts to walk into your view, revealing Simone, his wife. He keeps his voice low, in case anyone is listening, “Cillian was the traitor. He killed himself but not before using the paralytic on Clarke’s twin.”

Simone looks at you in confusion, “Russell, why haven't you used the antidote?”

“You know why.” He reaches up and touches a necklace around Simone’s throat, but she grabs his hand and holds it still as he continues, “She has the blood. Tell me not to do this, and I won't, Simone.”

She glances over at your unmoving form. “Jade is back. Rose is dead.”

“Okay, so here's the math. There are no more hosts. It was 14 years between Rose and Delilah. 14 years. Josie's still third in line. That means her host won't be born for at best 35 years, another 21 until her brain is ready. We can wait 56 years for our baby girl's Naming Day, or we can get her back tonight.” You feel your anxiety steadily start to grow as you listen to Russell’s words, the pieces slowly falling into place that you are still in danger. Cillian said something about hosts for the Primes, and you get a sickening feeling that you’re about to become one of them. Russell confirms your worst fears when he looks over you with pity and his voice drops a little to whisper to his wife, “All we have to do is kill this innocent girl.”

Simone looks at you long and hard, considering her options, before kissing her husband on the cheek and pulling open her necklace, revealing a small piece of technology. Russell takes it as Simone coldy says, “I'll prep for insertion. You clear the host.”

Your panic levels shoot off the charts and you start to cry, the only response your body can manage while still paralyzed. Russell walks over to you, dropping right into your vision, looking distressed to see you upset. “I'm sorry, I truly am.”

The tears fall harder, running over your nose and onto the table below you, and Russell reaches out to wipe them away, “Shh, please don't cry. Please. I promise you won't feel pain. The mind of the host is erased, but the brain is left unharmed. You're giving us such a gift, sacrificing your body so that someone else might live.”

You start praying to the Universe, begging for your life to be spared. You pray to your dad, and to Lincoln, to Jasper, and Monty, to anyone you can think of, crying and begging for all of this to just be a bad dream and for it to be over. But the Universe seems unwilling to save you this time, because Simone walks over, a syringe in her hands. When she sees her husband’s turmoil, she sets the syringe down to comfort him, her voice low. “Hey, listen to me. This was meant to be. After 236 years, just as we're on the brink of mortality, a ship arrives carrying this perfect vessel. This was meant to be.”

She passes him the syringe, and he takes it, holding it up so you can see it. Your fear turns to anger, and you wish you could move because you would kill Russell and Simone both for even considering this. There is nothing more that you want, other than to survive this and kill them both.

But that is not what’s in your future, because Russell looks down at you, his inner turmoil now gone. “No more fighting, you’ll be at peace. Thank you for this.”

And then he slides the syringe into your neck, sending the liquid into your body while you’re unable to do anything. He pulls the syringe away and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, before leaning back to watch your final moments. And as you start to die, as your mind starts to be erased from the world, all you can think is that, after all the shit you’ve been through, this is it. This is how you go. All the death you’ve faced, all the times you’ve been choked within an inch of your life, and your death is ultimately at the hands of a set of parents, eager to bring their daughter back to life at the sake of making you lose yours.

Along the edges of your vision, the darkness starts to creep in, and you feel another rush of panic as you realize that this is truly the end. You’re in your final seconds of life and none of the people that you love even know it. Your mind drifts to Madi, and braiding flowers into her hair. Clarke, and the countless nights the two of you spent laughing and talking. And then your mind settles on Bellamy, the love of your life, the man of your dreams, the ring he gave you still sitting heavy on your finger. A ring to symbolize a marriage that you will never get. A ring to symbolize a life that you will no longer be able to live.

The last thing you see as the darkness rushes in, is Bellamy’s smiling face, framed by freckles and curls, nothing but love in his eyes.

Bellamy wakes up in a panic.

Subconsciously, it’s like his body knows that you aren't there beside him, and when he pulls his eyes open to the bright sun, he finds that he’s right.

You’re gone.

He dresses quickly and rushes to Madi and Clarke’s room, pounding on the door loudly before he’s greeted by Clarke, her hair a mess, her hands wiping the sleep from her eyes. Any other time the sight would be funny to him, seeing the normally put together Clarke looking anything but put together, but it’s not funny now, because all he feels is panic. “Have you seen la lune?”

“No, isn't she with you?”

“No, she was gone when I woke up.”

“Maybe she’s downstairs.”

“Something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

And now that Bellamy has said the words out loud, Clarke realizes that she can feel it too. The prickle of unease along her skin, the hairs on the back of her neck lifted, letting her that know something isn’t right. Which is why she grabs her shoes and follows Bellamy out of the room, both of them frantically searching every inch of the tavern. They find that your shoes are still in your room, but your pants are gone and so is Bellamy’s shirt from the night before. Everything else is in place, not a single item out of the ordinary.

They check the area around the tavern, finding nothing there either. Which is why they take off running to the palace in search of Russell, surprised to find you already there, talking to the leader of Sanctum. You turn to your twin and your fiance with a smile, greeting them both, mumbling something about ‘best laid plans’ before you pass Bellamy a map. He accepts it, and the three of you return to the tavern to look it over, alongside Murphy, who seems to notice nothing strange about you until you call him John.

Bellamy and Clarke are still both on edge, constantly questioning you on if you feel alright, a question you answer yes to every time, waving off their concerns. But they only grow more concerned when Gaia comes to all of you, telling you she saw Jordan go into the reliquary of the palace. And when you follow him inside, you discover the secret of the Primes: that they are coldblooded body snatchers, disguising themselves as gods.

Clarke, Bellamy, and the others are horrified. You, however, offer justification for their actions, something that confuses the two people closest to you. Maybe that's why they call a team meeting, under the guise of informing Madi of the danger she’s in, something your face lights up about when mentioned. But as Bellamy and Clarke fill Madi in on everything, their eyes stay on you, noting your mannerisms and the things you seem interested in. Their eyes only leave yours to calm down Jordan when he confronts Priya, a moment you use to carefully slip away, heading outside in search of Jade.

Bellamy and Clarke follow you and then confront you, finally confirming that something is wrong with you, despite your insistence otherwise. And it's only then, after you’ve drugged them both, do you reveal that you are not you after all.

You are Josephine Lightbourne, and your body is her new host.

The first thing Clarke Griffin does when she wakes up is scream.

It’s loud, and heartbreaking, and it wakes Bellamy, who’s chained beside her in a room deep within the palace.

And as soon as they lock eyes, as soon as they realize that you’re gone, they both lose it. When the guards arrive for the next shift change, the previous guards complain that Bellamy and Clarke haven’t quieted down since waking up. They’ve screamed and cried and then screamed again. They’ve smashed furniture, banged on walls, rattled their chains. They quiet down briefly with Murphy’s arrival, but as soon as they realize that he’s trying to play them, trying to force their hand into taking a deal that will leave your death unavenged, they kick him out and raise hell again.

Which is why the guards are relieved to see Josephine arrive later that evening, a knife carefully hidden in the sleeve of her jacket, because they realize they’re finally going to get some peace and quiet.

That peace, however, is short lived.

Because Russell comes in minutes later, Murphy in tow, and the yelling resumes again. Clarke and Bellamy present a united front, and unleash a verbal tirade against everyone in the room. Eventually the guards wander off, tired of listening to the chaos inside, both of them missing the climax of the evening. Josephine, using your body, your hands, cuts Clarke’s hands free. Clarke kicks Josephine’s hand, knocking the knife out of her grip, watching it slide over to Bellamy, and he reaches for it as Clarke hits Josephine in the neck, forcing her to start coughing and choking. Clarke immediately spins towards Russell, kicking him in the stomach and watching as he doubles over. Bellamy calls Clarke’s name, and she turns his way as he tosses her the knife, which she grabs from the air before turning back towards Russell. She wraps her arm around his neck and uses her other hand to hold the knife to the artery in his neck.

Russell’s eyes go wide and Clarke turns him slightly, until they’re facing Bellamy and Josephine. She’s held tight in Bellamy’s grip, the cord of restraint wrapped around her neck, just waiting for Clarke’s command to kill her. Murphy yells both of their names above the chaos, sounding panicked, “Stop, alright? You don't want them to kill all of us! Just think!”

“They won’t kill any of us if they’re all dead, Murphy.”

Russell struggles slightly in Clarke’s grip, and she presses the knife into his skin, nicking him. He winces, sucking in air through his teeth, freezing up completely, looking at his daughter with fear. “Josephine!”

Josephine looks at her dad, sounding apologetic, but Clarke can tell she only cares about saving her own life. “I'm sorry, daddy. Violence is all they know.”

She looks away from her father, her eyes moving to Clarke. “If killing him is what you need, then do it, but let the violence end here...an eye for an eye.”

“Why should I let the violence end here, Josephine? It took me and Bellamy seconds to get you and your father under control. Imagine how quickly we can kill the rest of the Primes when I tell the rest of our people what you’ve done.” Clarke looks at Bellamy, and he tightens his grip on Josephine’s neck, choking her slightly, proving her point.

Murphy yells, “Wanheda, stop!”

Clarke freezes, the nickname making her blood run cold. “If you kill them, that’s what you become. The Commander of Death. Is that what you want? Is that really what your twin would want? You’ve done everything in your power to escape this nickname! Killing these people in your twin’s name would go against everything that both of you have worked for! And it would make you a murderer, no better than the Grounders, or the Mountain Men, or Pike, or McCreary. Because this isn't a kill for survival, this is revenge, plain and simple.”

Clarke looks at Bellamy, feeling the conflict warring inside of her, unsure what to do. She has done everything to escape Wanheda and the horrors of her past, and she knows that if you were here, you wouldn’t want her to kill everyone inside of Sanctum. But you’re not here and that’s the problem. Clarke’s struggling to see the point in anything; why do better and strive for peace if you��re not here to see it? Maybe she should just kill everyone, and really give herself over to Wanheda, become the killer that everyone seems to think she is. Everyone except for you. Her mind spins with her conflict, and Bellamy can sense it, catching onto the panic in her expression with ease. “It’s your decision, Clarke. I’ll support you, no matter what.”

The words are enough to decide for her, and the fight leaves Clarke’s body in a rush. Her grip loosens and the knife drops from her hand, clattering to the ground at her feet. She drops her arm away from Russell and he steps away from her, reaching up to touch the small amount of black blood that drips from the tiny cut on his neck. Bellamy releases Josephine, who seems to think the whole situation is a joke, smiling as she steps away from him and passes a pair of mind drives to Murphy, repeating Murphy’s earlier words back to him. “Big swings.”

The sight of the drives makes both Bellamy and Clarke sick, unable to even look at Murphy or Josephine. Russell looks between the pair with apprehension, trying to calm the situation further. “If you let us live, I can guarantee safety for the rest of your people. We'll share everything we've learned about surviving on this moon.”

Bellamy steps towards Russell threateningly, his gaze hard and angry, and he grinds out, “We are not doing this for you, we’re doing it for her.”

Russell nods and Clarke glances at Josephine, your silver moon necklace still hanging around her neck. “If my twin is dead, we want her jewelry back.”

Clarke holds out her hand expectantly, and Josephine glances at her dad, waiting for him to disagree. But instead he nods, motioning for her to give it up, and she scoffs before she quickly unchains the necklace and pulls off the engagement ring from Bellamy, dropping them both into Clarke’s hand with an eye roll. “It’s tacky, anyways.”

Clarke’s fist curls around the jewelry and she steps towards Josephine, fully intending to punch her, but Russell steps between the pair with an apologetic look on his face. “She didn’t mean that.”

“Yes she did.” But Clarke backs down anyways, earning a nod of satisfaction from Russell. “Good. We'll meet tomorrow to discuss the details of your compound. Do we have a deal?”

Clarke and Bellamy exchange a long look, both of them silently communicating in the way that only best friends can, both of them clearly hesitant to let this go. But then they both think of Monty and doing better, and how much you truly wanted to do better, and they nod, giving their approval to Russell. “We have a deal.”

When Bellamy shakes Russell’s outstretched hand, it feels to him like he’s made a deal with the devil.

Clarke and Bellamy inform the others of your death as soon as they’re free from the palace, and the news is taken hard by everyone. Madi struggles with it the most, and Clarke carries her up to their room to comfort her, staying by her side long after the young Nightblood has fallen asleep. Eventually, she leaves the room in search of Bellamy, the ring still tucked safely in her pocket, and she’s unsurprised to find him mourning near the pond in the center of the village, tears streaming down his face as he looks to the sky, his eyes locked on the moon. He doesn't wipe his tears away when Clarke sits down beside him. He would if it was anyone else, but he trusts Clarke, and he knows that she understands the loss he’s feeling, because she feels it too.

They sit in silence for a long time, side by side, mourning the bright la lune that they love so desperately. Clarke eventually passes Bellamy the ring, and he stares down at it, his heart breaking all over again. “She only had it for a few hours before they-”

He cuts himself off, his tears rising again, choking on his answer. He can't say it, can't think about it, too horrified to think of what you must have been experiencing in that moment. Alone, betrayed by someone you thought you could trust, killed without a second thought. It's almost too much for him to bear. It reminds him of being on the ring, separated from you after Praimfaya, and it makes his heart ache. He already went through this once, sure that he lost you then, though he had no proof. But now, he’s really sure, because your body’s walking around, but you’re not in it. Someone else is in control, because you’re no longer inside. Your memories are gone, your thoughts, feelings, emotions, all gone. Wiped from your mind to make space for someone else.

The thought makes him sick, and he has a half second to recognize the feeling before he turns and vomits, overwhelmed by the emotions of the situation. Clarke is unable to do anything but cry, heartbroken by the loss of her other half, destroyed by the idea that she’s no longer a twin. She’s a single child, the way everyone thought she was, and the loss clings to her. It wraps itself around her, curling between her fingers, tangling itself up in her hair, letting Clarke know that she’s the only child of Jake and Abby Griffin that remains in this world.

Meanwhile, Josephine is back in her own room in the castle.

She is in her own clothes, with her own comforts, no longer forced to play pretend with the killers from Earth. She’s blissfully unaware, uncaring, of the pain she’s caused, or the trauma that she’s left behind in her wake.

She pops a sleeping pill in her mouth and washes it down with a sip of water, before flicking off the light and settling back into her soft sheets, finally ready for her first sleep in her new body. Everything slows around her, fading away until there is nothing left in the world. She slips into darkness, falling into the comfort of sleep, numb to everything around her. And as Josephine’s consciousness fades, a flip switches in her body, your body, another consciousness awakening.

Your eyes fly open and you sit up with a gasp, panic heavy in your chest, remembering your death at Russell’s hands.

And somehow, some way, you’re in Arkadia, in the room you shared with Bellamy, and you are very much alive.

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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