#the cellar door sessions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rubysgirl32 · 6 months ago

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Impulsive

Kit Tanthalos x Princess!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Warning: enemies to lovers, Kit and reader being assholes to each other, lot of insults and arguing, Self hatred, cursing, alcohol?

Request: Hello😁 in ur recent post, you mentioned requests, and I was wondering if you could pls make a princess reader x kit enemies to lovers oneshot? 🙏 (@mydogatemywaffle )

Summary: Kit hated her, She hated Kit. Let's see how it works out when they have to have dinner together

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Like every summer, Queen Sorsha of Tir Asleen, invited a special group of royal families from other realms inside the barrier, to spend an entire week together. A week filled with games, sports and parties. The reason for these annual gatherings was for the new generations to bond and have strong friendships, making the alliances between realms stronger. The kings and queens would get together for once, and chat about life and sometimes discuss business, while the princes and princesses would battle, have parties and cherish the company of each other. Everyone really enjoys and appreciates these summer gatherings. Everyone except Princess Kit. In fact, she despised them. She hated having her brother flirt with her friends, she hated having to share her training sessions, she hated the fact she had to wear dresses on every meal, she hated not having time on her own, but most of all, what she precisely hated was her.

Y/n. Princess of Veloria, youngest of the 3 heirs to the crown and a complete total narc. They were thirteen, when Airk, Kit and the rest of the royal youths decided to spend a night in the wine cellar, drinking old disgusting wines and playing truth or dare. Kit didn’t actually play, as she invited Jade with her, and spent it talking about practise and sparring. That was until, Y/n found them and went running to Sorsha, and snitched on her so-called friends. They all got punished obviously, but Kit and Airk were grounded for the rest of summer, which meant no sparring with Jade. Call her exaggerated, but Kit swore that it was the worst 7 weeks in her life.

So ever since, Kit has held that stupid grudge against her like an oath, completely despising the girl, and promising to herself to one day get her revenge. It might sound childish, but if there was something Kit hated, it was a snitch. A teacher’s pet. Someone who followed every single rule, and really did what they actually wanted. She hated those types of people. And apparently, she was the only one since the rest of the princesses and princes seemed to have forgiven the younger girl. They would talk and spend time with her, even though she literally betrayed everyone.

“Kit” Airk opened her bedroom door, with a tight smile. He was wearing his v-cut blouse and tight pants. His hair was messy, meaning he must have been spending his afternoon with one of his newest conquest “The guest have arrived” he announces “Mother is expecting us in the entrance”

Kit's face turned sour as she placed her head on her ringed hands. She really wasn't ready to spend an entire week with a bunch of other people, but at the end of the day it was inevitable. She followed her brother down the staircase, both wearing completely different faces as they got to the entrance. Kit was completely over it and unamused while Airk was smirking and biting his tongue. He was probably excited to see Princess Lethia, from Thatch. Once they got to the entrance, they each stood at their mothers side, looking out the front yard, where fancy carriages rolled into place. The five biggest carriages, stationed themselves in a row, where a servant from the castle was waiting to open the door.

Kit looked around and could clearly recognize which carriage belonged to each kingdom. The first one, on the left, was from Zenzai, on the north. The king and queen with a newborn in hand came out, both parents tall and with long dark hair. It was followed by Sanpuq, from the east coast. The King, who looked green from the car ride, and the Queen came out, along with two young blonde girls who were around the twins' age. In the middle carriage belonged to the kingdom of Thatch, which was the closest to Tir Asleen, just a bit far south. Out came the King, Queen, three rowdy and manly boys, and a young princess who batted her long lashes toward Airk with a faint smile. Behind it was the carriage from Marya, which came from the northeastern area of the land. Inside where a stone cold woman, who used to be the queen, followed by the new queen and her recent husband, who were holding each other like those corny couples on the tale’s Kit read when she was young. And finally, but not least, the carriage from Veloria. She could tell it was from Veloria, since it was the biggest and most flamboyant carriage she has ever seen in her life. The king, a 6 foot bearded man came out, then a frigid Queen who didn’t even bother taking her husband's hand to get out of the carriage. She was followed by two tall, muscular, empty head boys who eyed the other girl line. Eventually, the princess came out of the carriage. She was wearing a spotless and shimmering dress that was probably chosen by her mother like always. Kit couldn’t even look at the girl without feeling a furry inside her stomach, the word traitor running through her mind.

“My dearest friends!” Sorsha greeted with open arms and a wide genuine smile “It is a truly pleasure to have you all once again, here in Tir Asleen”

Kit’s mother proceeded to talk and give an hour long speech which she didn’t even bother paying attention to. Instead she was too busy thinking about taking her horse out for a ride to the rocky cliff side, and starring alongside Jade. Once her mother finally finished giving her last speech, Kit turned around on her hill as fast as possible, so she wouldn't have to greet the guest. She took a shortcut, running through the kitchen and laundry room which lead her towards the stables, her red haired best friend awaited for her

“Jade!” Kit shouted

“Your highness” Jade responded

“Let’s go!” The princesses went to the armory, took out the mask and their designated swords

“Right now?” Jade followed her inside the hut, completely confused “Don’t you have a guest to greet?”

“Well… I can’t entertain them if i'm busy training” Kit handed jade her mask and sword and walked out of the armory without a worry “So let’s go”

Both girls were quick to get their horses ready, saddling them up and leaving the castle grounds to their special cabot place.

Through a window in a room of the castle, Princess Y/n could see Kit riding her horse in a brutally smooth way, making it look so effortless. How could the Queen allow her daughter to do such… manly things? Was the Queen even aware of her daughter doing such unruly actions? Was the kingdom aware that their princess is not doing her chores and duties, but instead spending her time… having fun and doing what she likes? Y/n wasn't even allowed inside the armory or to see her brother’s dueling since her mom said it was a man’s job to do such rough and brutal things. But it really intrigued the young girl. It has always intrigued her, the feeling of running, of jumping and fighting. It all felt like such a careless activity. Her mouth turned sour from the jealousy that filled her gut.

The princess hated these annual reunions Queen Sorsha did. It wasn't for the people she had to spend time with, or the days in the carriage stuck with her family, but really she hated it because of her. Kit Tanthalos. Princess of Tir Asleen and a complete deviant. Her mother had told her she was the type of princess that doesn’t care about her duty to the realm, or even take responsibility. Instead, she would spend her days sword fighting as if she was some sort of knight. Y/n at first never really understood what she meant, but now that she was a month away from getting married, she understood what she meant. Becoming a Queen was a long and exhausting process, and Kit has spent it rolling around on the floor. Ever since she was a kid, her mom had warned her about that girl, and her disruptive behavior. The Princess grew up by her mom’s ideals, telling her to hate her and dislike her. But as the years went by, that hatred turned into pure jealousy. Kit could wear pants. She wasn't even allowed to own any. Kit could fight and learn to defend herself. While she had to learn how to embroider and knit. Kit could drink alcohol and behave how she wanted. Instead. She was micro-managed by everyone around her and was not even allowed to take a sip of wine. Y/n hated her, because she envied every little piece of her.

The princess groaned at the sight of the princess through the window, so she grabbed both ends of the curtains, and closed them dramatically. She turned towards the smallest chest she had, and took out her journal. The leather covered book was heavy and stuffed with loose papers and dried flowers she would keep. Then she walked towards the desk, sat down and took out the feather from the ink pot, and started writing. After spending 2 days in a carriage stuck with her mother, father and her two clueless brothers, and now having to stay an entire week with Kit, created an enormous amount of tension she needed to realize in her diary. She wrote down whatever came to mind, till her mother’s maid came in. The young princess was placed into a heavy and uncomfortable purple dress her mother had chosen, her hair was brushed harshly then placed in one of those hairstyles that left her with a powerful headache. Her mother eventually came in, and corrected every single detail about her, to look as perfect as possible.

Once everything was impeccable, the princess was allowed to leave her room to have dinner. Inside the dinner room, there were two large tables, both filled with different plates crammed with delicious food for them. She walked towards the table with the young royal’s and sat next to one of her two brothers, who was currently stuffing his face with the potato salad. The girl served herself some meat, but the glaring eyes of her mother that burned into her forehead, told her that maybe she should stick with salad. And so she did, she placed a small portion of salad, and ate it quietly, listening to Princess Lethia, who informed everynone about her wedding with the Duque from a nearby kingdom.

Then Kit made an entrance as she walked into the room, late and sweaty from training, laughing about something with a red haired girl who walked behind her. Kit quickly realized that the dining hall was not empty as usual, but instead filled with guests wearing fancy clothing and eating the very best baguette the kingdom’s kitchen staff could offer.

“Shit” she whispered as she looked around, then looked back at her best friend who had quickly exited the room before anyone could notice.

The princess stood up straight and turned toward the many pairs of eyes staring at her, bowed gently with a tight lipped smile

“Forgive my tardiness, i was training with my… squire” she grits through her teeth “Please, keep on dining”

The royal from both tables followed the order as they all went back to their conversations and plates. The princess then walked slowly toward the youth’s table to realize the only chair left was right in front of the girl she feared the most. The short haired girl took a seat on the lonely chair trying to ignore the girl in front of her, as she served herself food and wine for dinner. But the girl’s piercing stare was too hard for her to ignore. Before she could even place her fork in her mouth, Kit looked forward to seeing a pair of eyes staring right back at her.

“Princess Y/n” Kit tilted her head and closed her eyes with a fake smile “How are you finding the food?”

“Delightfull” the girl answered “How was your evening?”

“Great, actually” Kit responded as she shoved a piece of bread into her mouth “Just got back from a sparring match”

The sight of Kit eating with her mouthful, lights up a fire inside the other princess' chest. How dare she behave like… a commoner. Eating with her mouth full, showing up late for dinner, while wearing filthy rags and being covered in dirt and sweat. The girl breathed as deeply as she could with her corset on and tried her best to swallow her rage.

“Oh,” she says under her breath, as she grabs both her fork and knife and pretend to shovel the food in her plate around “still playing with swords, I see”

Their table started growing quiet, as some of them happened to have heard the princess remark. Kit’s fake smile lowered into a confused and mocking glare.

“If you call the art of sword fighting and self defending… playing with swords? Then yes, you can say im still doing it” she grabbed her goblet with wine and placed her wondering finger on the rim, circling the glass softly “What about you? Are you still… weaving like a decrepit maiden?”

Gasps from around the table roar, everyone laughing and whispering things to the person next to them. The heat on y/n’s face seemed to rise as she realized she was now under the eyes of so many, especially her mother’s eyes. She must not make a fool of herself.

“Kit maybe-” Airk tried to say but was quickly interrupted by the girl in front of her sister how dropped her fork on the plate

“At least I know how to take care of my kingdom” She spat “I’ve been told you are skipping your classes to spend it off playing with that squire of yours. How is that gonna help you in the future?”

“Because if we ever go to war, I will actually defend and help them, while you… you would be stuck inside your castle like a snobby princess you are” Kit scoffed loudly

“Snobby?”Her words were harsh as she leaned into the table to get closer to the girl on the other side “That is quite a statement from someone who I bet you has their own collection of swords and weapons. I am rather certain that you waste your entire year fighting to impress whoever is closest'' The anger on her body starting to take over, overwhelming her till she felt pressure in her throat

“If you want to talk about collections, let's talk about your wardrobe, sweetheart.” Kit snarled as she leaned close to the table, her face a few inches away from the raging girl. “I’m sure that if we go to your room, we could find 4 chests filled with different dresses that were made just for you. And back in your castle you might as well have a room entirely for your stupid outfits” The blue-eyed girl slammed her cup into the table roughly, letting the wine drip from the cup to her hand “And to be perfectly clear, I do not fight and train to impress anyone. I don’t need to impress anyone. I fight to be able to defend my kingdom from the magic that is outside the barrier that might attack at any moment. What about you? How are you gonna defend yourself if Bavmorda ever returns? Are you gonna knit yourself a shield?” The room started growing quiet as the people from the other table stopped to listen carefully. “At least I am capable of making decisions on my own rather than following orders like a teacher’s pet. You are completely governed by everyone in your family, and you don’t even seem to bother. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up marrying a troll if your mother told you so” Kit laughed on her own as she shook her head and leaned back into her chair “I would even bet that that very same dress you are wearing this instant, was a order from your mother, and you followed it like the little suck-up you are”

Silence took over the room as everyone’s eyes were now focused on Y/n’s red face. She was not only humiliated in front of her friends, but in front of her mother. The young girl pushed back her seat loudly before running out the door, and slamming it loudly. Her quick footsteps of her tall heels could be heard from outside the dining room, but everyone tried to ignore them as they looked back into their plates. Queen Sorsha stood up slowly and gently, before walking towards the youth’s table and placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Kit, who had grabbed her goblet of wine and was chugging it nervously, tried to ignore her mother’s claw on her shoulder, but the tightening grip quickly became deadly.

“Kit” She stated “A word. Outside. Right now”

Sorsha squeezed her shoulder harder before letting it go and then floated gracefully towards the door, her daughter following behind. The guards opened the big oak doors, letting the queen and her successor exit the dining hall, to a rather large hall. Once the door closes, Sorsha’s eyes turn dagger that stabs her daughter with pure rage.

“How dare you” she starts her voice sharply cutting through the tense air “How dare you have the audacity to insult the princess in front of everyone!”

“Mom-” Ruby tries to protest

“No! You embarrassed that poor girl in front of her family and friends!” Sorsha then steps forwards, the height difference becoming more significant and predominant “The situation between Veloria and Tir Alseen has been stable for centuries, and while I was about to propose a deal with the King, you raise havoc on the perfect circumstance! We have been waiting 32 moons for this deal!”

“She started it!” Kit argued, stomping her feet softly like a tantrum

“Oh don’t be such a childish Kit!” Her mother slaps her shoulder where her hand previously was, causing the girl to step back amazed “Just because your brother is getting the throne, doesn’t mean you don’t have any responsibilities. If anything were to happen to your brother, you would have to step up, and become the Queen of Tir Asleen, but at the moment you’re behaving like a toddler'' Before Kit could even say a single syllable, her mother hand pointed towards the end of the hall, where the young princess had ran a few moments ago, and said perfectly “Go apologize, now”

“What! NO!” Kit crossed her arms and tried to stand tall, only to be faced with her mother’s deathly glare

“Is either that, or your little training sessions with Jade might as well be canceled for the rest of the year'' Kit eye grew wide with the threat “Now go apologize, do not return until she has accepted your apology''

The guards took the queue to open the dining doors for the queen to walk through once again. Kit tried to follow her, quick behind her step, but once her mother entered the dining hall, the guards slammed both doors on the princess’ face. Her fist clenched tightly and her nose scrunched as she cursed her mother on the other side, her small but powerful body filled with fury and famine. She hasn't eaten anything since their royal guest arrived due to her training and now she won’t be able to eat anything unless she finds the stupid princess and apologizes to her.

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

The Tir Asleen castle, to say the least, is extensive. It consisted of four different wings, three floors in each, thirteen towers and over a thousand rooms and quarters that Kit had probably never been to. So trying to look for a princess in a palace like this one, was a job that could take Kit forever. The girl knew the odds were not in her favor at the moment, so she walked around aimlessly, while talking on her own, planning the stupid apology her mother asked for. She took the random stairs, turned on hall corners, and opened every single door she found, as her words would echo through the empty walls.

“Dear princess” she would sass under her breath “I am so… profoundly sorry” she opened another door, to find an empty solar room, and closed it quickly “for calling you snobby and decrypt'' She walked to the other side of the hall to open another door “even though…” Kit turned the door handle again harder, but the door wouldnt budge “what the fuck?”

She leaned down to the door’s key hole, to see a vague purple figure hunched on the corner of the room, that perfectly resembled the princess dress. Something in her heart truly ached at the sight, but her brain couldn’t not be anything but annoyed so she just let it out in an annoyed sigh and eye roll. Kit knocked on the door as softly as she could, waiting for a response, but she only received silence. She knocked again, a bit harsher.

“Princess Y/n?” she called with pursed lips “I-” she tried to apologize, but she knew this wasn't the right way “can you open the door… please?”

The only noise that came back was the wind that was probably blowing in from the window. Kit knocked again, a bit harsher now. Her teeth biting the inside of her cheeks.

“Come on” her fist banging on the door “I came- I came to apologize” her nose scrunched up in disgust at her own words, so she leaned her forehead on the door.

Silence kept coming back as a response, Kit placed her ear on the door, and tried to listen carefully. After a few tries of paying attention to the absolute silence, looking for any life signal, Kit grabbed the handle and shook it up and down till the door budged open.

She walked inside the room carefully, to find it completely dark and the vague fume of a candle. The purple dress that was left on the corner of the room was completely empty.

The windows swing wide open as the wind blows harshly, the lacy white curtains dance with the wind's howl, and that was enough of an answer for Kit to where the princess was. The short haired girl ran to the window to look directly to the floor, to see the garden. Her eyes searched desperately until they found a white figure walking around the garden, slowly, and carefully. Kit then tried to piece the puzzle together to realize the thick vines that crawled up the first and second floor from outside the castle to the window’s edge.

“You have to be kidding me” Kit groaned and rolled her head back

The princess looked up at the sky and closed her eyes, and prayed quietly to anyone who would hear. She then placed her foot on the rim of the window, and carefully then placed her other foot on one of the vines and started climbing down. Carefully, she descended two entire floors of the castle till her leather boots stepped into the sturdy gravel of the garden floor. Kit dusted her sore hands on her pants, and with her head down she saw faint footsteps. And so she followed them into her mother’s garden.

The tall and groomed bushes appeared terrifying at night, creating creature-like shadows that seemed to follow her as she tried her hardest to track the barely visible footsteps on the gravel. The wind breeze made the leaves rustle, startling the princess making her take her dagger out, just for precaution. She wouldn’t admit to being scared, but her heartbeat would say otherwise. Her steps got slower, as she carefully turned around in circles, making sure no one was sneaking up on her, but once she completed her spin, on the far end of the bush tunnels, she could see the very same white figure seated on a fountain, with her hand on the water carefully playing with it. A sigh of relief came out of Kit's chest, as she placed her dagger on the leather scabbard around her thigh.

“Princess Y/n” She called, while trotting toward the fountain “I came-”

“Just leave me” the girl responded with a shaky voice

“You know i can’t do that” Kit huffed as she stopped walking

The girl sitting in the fountain stood up and turned around to face the princess. Her face was red stained with tears, her eyebrows lowered and nose scrunched. Her simple white gown, that was quite thin, danced with the cold night air, along with the rustling leaves that startled Kit. The crying girl then scoffed and shook her head.

“Sure you can” She sniffed, as she took a small step forward “I mean” she then took another step forward, making Kit look down to see the girl barefoot “You can insult me in front of everyone, you can embarrassed me in front of my family, you sure can kill me if you wanted to, with those crazy sword skills of yours” she then took another step “So i'm pretty sure, you can leave me the hell alone”

“I came to apologize” Kit repeated, trying to keep her cool, to not screw this up even more than she already did “I should have never-”

“But you did” the girl took another step closer towards kit, her tears reflexing the night light “And you were right”

“What?”

“I am a snobby, suck-up, stupid, and privileged princess!” She then laughed “I mean, I can't even choose my own dinner! Everything I do is perfectly monitored by my mother! I have spent my entire life envying you because you” The girl took another step “you get to do whatever you want! You’re… free” her last words came out choked out as a tear ran down her face

Kit was left speechless, looking down at her fiddling hand.

“You are smart and you’re strong and talented. You can stand up for yourself and fight back” she continued “you can have fun!” her hands shook frustratedly “you can have fun whenever you want, how you want and with whomever you want. And im- im so jealous! Because it isn’t fair! How can you ride horses and learn to do many things when I'm not even allowed to drink wine! I can’t even choose my dress for the day without getting corrected! And i just wish” she took another step “everyday i wish i could just… be you” Her words broke in her mouth “Be careless, be reckless, be… Not perfect!”

“Then do it” Kit’s words left her mouth before she could even think about it

“What?”

“Do it” her head kept talking, not even thinking about the consequences “Do something reckless”

“I can’t-”

“Yes” kit now stepped closer, the distance between them now gone, as she took y/n’s cold hands and held them “Yes you can. Do something that your mother would hate, do something without permission, do something because you want to, not because your mother told you so”

The words of encouragement and the proximity made the crying girl swallow harshly, with her heart beating out of her chest. She could feel this energy on her body run through her blood, pushing her to do something. Anything. And so she kissed Kit.

The kiss was short since the girl being kissed pushed her back roughly making them both fall on the gravel.

“What was that for!” Kit stood up trying not to trip as her hand covered her lower lip

“You told me to do something!” The girl on the floor screamed “I just-”

“So you kissed me?!”

“I panicked!” she stood up, dusting her white dress that was slightly dirty

Both girls are now standing with at least 10 feet of distance, but it certainly did not feel like it. They stared at each other, both of their chest rapidly heaving, hair being blown by the soft cold night wind, and their words stuck on each of the words. It felt like looking in a mirror for a second. Especially when they each saw the girl in front take a step forward. They synchronized, ran to each other and planted their lips together. Kit grabbed her waist quickly and pushed her close, as the other girl placed both hands in her hair. The pure adrenaline from both of their bodies softly mixed as they deepened the kiss. The event didn’t even become a worry for them, as they kept trying to pull themself even more. It felt like a magnet kept trying to push them together.

Their heated kiss got sadly interrupted as some soft giggles and footsteps started getting closer and closer until they heard a scream

“Kit!”

Both girls pushed themselves away once again, and looked to see Airk with Lethia in one hand and a wine bottle on the other. His mouth was wide open and he looked between both girls. At kit first, then y/n, then back to kit.

“If mom ever find out about this” he said shaking his head raising the with the wine bottle, pointing it at both girls “you’re dead”

“Sneaking out with a girl who's getting married in a few months and one of Dad’s precious wines?” Kit eyed her brother and crossed her arms “I think im not the only one who is in trouble”

Airk stood straight, looked back at the girl in his hand who was looking away ashamed, then back at her sister and the princess in the sheer white dress.

“I saw nothing” He states “You saw nothing. No one saw anything” He then started walking back, dragging Lethia with him “come on, I know another spot” and then they both disappeared into the dark cold summer night.

Kit bit her lip as she looked over at the princess who was already staring at her with wide eyes, and batting her tearful lashes. Kit raised her eyebrow and smirked as she walked slowly closer.

“So” she said “where do we go from here?”

The other girl smiled and shrugged her shoulders

“I mean, you’re brother said it” she took a step closer, her bare feet on the gravel “no one saw anything”

Kit walked toward the girl, grabbed her waist and pulled her up so only her bare sole was on the gravel. She smiled wickedly and got closer

“Good”

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

#kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos fanfic #ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #hazel callahan #ruby cruz bottoms #willow 2022 #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan smut #jade claymore #airk tanthalos

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hollyethecurious · 27 days ago

Text

CS AU: Being Ghosted (2/4?)

Summary: Killian and Liam Jones are called in to help with the haunting of an old carriage house where a skeleton was recently found walled up within the cellar. This is no ordinary ghost hunt for the supernatural fighting brothers, however. This job will require Killian to face the person who has been haunting him for nearly a year. Emma Swan. The woman he ghosted.

A/N: Yeah, yeah. I know the holiday season is in full swing and we ought to be done with the spooky stuff, but I love a Victorian/Dickensian Christmas aesthetic that leaves room for good old ghost stories. This addition gives me a BINGO for my Fall/Spooky card (better late than never) and will likely have two additional parts to come.

Shout out to @kmomof4 for her exceptional beta skills!

Rated T / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

Leaves rustled overhead, clinging to branches that were ready to be freed of them as the crisp autumn breeze coaxed them from their perch and gently swirled them to the ground below. Those with the misfortune of landing on the pavement were crunched beneath the tires of Killian Jones’ Chevelle, pulling up in front of an old carriage house that was being renovated into a home.

A home for Emma Swan. A home she recently began to share with her boyfriend. A home where the two resided, sharing all of the intimacies he desperately wished he could have shared with her. Intimacies and quiet moments and heated arguments and passionate make up sessions and mundane chores and yes… even their current plight.

A haunting.

Killian would have willingly faced it all with her had circumstances been different, which, he supposed, was why he was here now.

“You ready for this, little brother?” Liam questioned after Killian had put the car in park and shut off the engine.

“Younger,” Killian reminded him in his usual exasperated tone, pushing open the driver’s side door and climbing out while side-stepping his well-meaning brother’s inquiry.

The front door of the carriage house opened and a man exited, greeting them hesitantly, “You must be the Jones brothers?”

“We are,” Liam said, approaching the man with an outstretched hand. “I’m Liam. This is my brother, Killian. Are you the owner?”

“Uh, no,” the man said, shaking Liam’s hand then stuffing his hands in his pocket with an acknowledging nod towards Killian. “I’m Neal Cassidy. My girlfriend’s the one who called you. She technically owns the place, but we both live here.”

Something in Killian’s gut twisted, the ache intensifying when Emma emerged from the carriage house, looking as stunning as he remembered but without the warmth and affection he’d last received from her.

“You guys must be exhausted,” she said after introducing herself to his brother and barely giving him her notice. “We’ve made up the guest room and there’s a pullout in the office.” Turning to her beau, she placed a loving hand on his arm and sweetly suggested, “Why don’t you show Killian to the office and I’ll take Liam up to the guest room.” Addressing Liam - and only Liam - once more, she said, “After you two get settled, we can take you down to the cellar where this all started.”

“That sounds grand,” Liam said, gesturing towards the carriage house. “Lead the way, lass.”

As they filed in, Liam looked back at Killian over his shoulder. His expression echoed that which Killian was already telling himself.

He had fucked up.

Badly.

“So,” Cassidy began, showing Killian into the office where the pull out couch had already been made up for him. “How do you know Emma? She wasn’t really clear on the details.”

Dropping his duffle on the bed, Killian busied himself with rifling through his supplies, attempting to keep a neutral tone. “What details did she share?”

“Something about a dare and the cemetery and not wanting to talk about the experience because it had been too intense.”

Killian let out a commiserating hum. “Intense is certainly one word for it,” he murmured, the memory of Emma laid out beneath him, kissing the holy hell out him while making sounds that haunted him to this day flashed through his mind and tightened the fit of his jeans.

Unwilling to betray Emma’s confidence, and not exactly eager to share the details of their acquaintance with her current paramour either, Killian shifted the conversation to the matter at hand. “As I understand it, the paranormal activity began after the two of you uncovered skeletal remains in the cellar. Is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Cassidy replied, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought Emma was crazy at first when she insisted we had a ghost. I mean… you know how irrational women can be.”

Killian chafed at the man’s derisive tone. “If there’s one thing I know about Emma, mate,” Killian informed him with a slight edge to his words, “it’s that her instincts should never be dismissed.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Cassidy back pedaled. “I believe her now. Kind of hard not to when a ghost appears over your bed while you’re trying to convince your girl she’s not too tired to fulfill her duties. You know what I mean?”

Fists balled, Killian took a deep breath and tried to rein in his anger. He was saved from doing anything rash by the sounds of his brother’s voice.

“Ready to check out the cellar?”

“Aye,” Killian clipped out, following after Liam and resisting the urge to shoulder check the repulsive man who had somehow fallen into Swan’s good graces - and her bed (not that he wished to dwell on that fact) - as he passed.

Emma led them down a steep flight of steps into the cold, dark, and dank space below. The atmosphere had an immediate effect on Killian, raising the hair along the back of his neck and giving him the eerie feeling of being watched.

“This was part of the original structure, yes?” Liam asked, shining his flashlight into the inky black corners the dim bulb at the bottom of the stairs couldn’t quite reach.

“Yeah,” Emma answered, lingering by the stairs with Cassidy as the Jones men looked around. “From what I understand, it was cold storage for oats and hay and other food stuffs for the horses lodged here when it was a carriage house.” Gesturing towards an opening, she continued, “I noticed that space had been bricked up and I wanted to open it back up. That’s when I found…”

“The body,” Killian supplied, casting a glance towards her and meeting her eye for the first time since he’d arrived. His heart clenched, the look on her face making him wish he could have spared her such a discovery. Perhaps if it had been he who had been there… No. There was nothing to be gained in thinking that way now. The past was the past and there was no changing it.

“And you called the police?” Liam confirmed, searching the area where the skeleton had been found.

“Of course we did,” Cassidy scoffed. “What else were we supposed to do?”

Killian and Liam exchanged a look. Neither of them could fault their decision, but they both knew, had it been them, they would have handled it much differently.

“And how soon after the body was removed did the occurrences begin?”

“Almost immediately,” Emma answered. “It started with noises on these steps.” She gestured at the stairs they’d used to access the cellar, the tension in her demeanor evident in the stiff, closed-off way she stood in the unsettling space.

“Noises?” Liam questioned. “Like footsteps?”

“No,” she replied. “More like… something falling down them. Then things actually started crashing down them.”

“What do you mean?” Killian pressed, his concern heightening as she continued.

“If we leave anything sitting in the hallway outside the cellar door, it will eventually make its way down here. Clearly having taken a tumble down the stairs.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy said, backing her up. “I thought it was the authorities being careless, because we had a parade of crime scene personnel traipsing through here for weeks after we reported the body.”

“But you knew it was more than that, didn’t you, Swan?”

Emma locked eyes with Killian. He could tell his question had brought back the memory of her first ghostly encounter. She swallowed hard and for a moment it was as though they were the only two people there.

“Rooms would get cold,” she told him in a quiet voice; her words conveying all the nuance and unspoken truths she knew he would understand in a way her boyfriend had not. “I would hear things. Smell things. Things I hadn’t experienced in all the months I spent renovating the upper levels.”

“What sort of smells?”

His brother broke the reverie that had momentarily linked them, snapping the connection that reminded Killian of what they had once shared.

“Um,” Emma began, shaking herself and focusing on the question. “Leather? Hay? Like a barn, but without the pungent animal smells. More how I’d imagine this place was when it was an active carriage house, I guess.”

“So, he could have been killed here during that time,” Killian said to his brother

“Agreed. We’ll need to learn more about the building’s history.” Addressing Emma once more, Liam inquired, “You told Killian the authorities had yet to identify the remains, is that correct?”

“Yeah. But they did issue a cause of death. Blunt force trauma and a broken neck.”

“Injuries one might sustain from falling or being pushed down a flight of stairs,” Killian remarked. “It would certainly explain the occurrences surrounding the cellar steps.”

“My friend Belle is the town librarian and she has access to city records,” Emma informed them. “When you agreed to come, I asked her to pull anything that might tell us the history of the carriage house. Who owned it. Who may have worked here. Things like that. She said she’d try and have a file ready for when you got here.”

“Good thinking, love,” Killian praised, unaware of the endearment he’d let slip until Cassidy shot him an affronted glare then suspiciously flicked his gaze to Emma’s pinked cheeks before sending another hard look Killian’s way.

Clearing his throat, Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear, turning his attention towards Liam and suggesting, “Before we go any further, we should ascertain what sort of spirit we’re dealing with.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked.

Killian couldn’t help the smug feeling that went through him at the sight of her pulling away from Cassidy’s attempt to wrap a possessive arm around her waist. She took a step towards the center of the room where Liam was already pulling supplies out of the bag he’d brought with him.

“There are generally two kinds of spirits who refuse to move on,” Liam told her. “Malevolent ones who were equally nasty while alive, and those who simply have unfinished business they feel compelled to resolve before they can find peace.”

“Malevolent spirits refuse to leave,” Killian added. “Hell bent on punishing or exacting revenge against the living. The only way to be rid of them is to--”

“Salt and burn their bones,” Emma said, causing Cassidy to balk behind her.

“How did you know--”

“Aye,” Killian said, cutting Cassidy off. “Which will be somewhat difficult to accomplish, seeing as they are still in the medical examiner’s possession.”

“So…” Emma drawled, joining he and Liam as they continued to set up the space for the task they would need to perform. “Best case scenario would be this spirit just having unfinished business?”

“That won’t necessarily make matters any easier,” Liam informed her. “Figuring out a spirit’s unfinished business isn’t usually as straightforward as salting and burning bones.”

“So, how do we determine which kind of spirit it is?”

“Ems, the thing attacked us while we were making love,” Cassidy said, being sure to emphasize the making love part as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “The thing is obviously bad news.”

“We weren’t--” Emma began, mortification giving way to irritation as she looked back at him then shook her head and said, “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” Looking down at the two brothers as they finished lighting the circle of candles they’d set out, she said, “As I told Liam upstairs, when he manifested he didn’t look threatening. He had his hands over his mouth--” she raised hers to mimic what the spectre had looked like, “--but was clearly trying to tell us something when he vanished almost as quickly as he appeared.”

“Well,” Liam said, pulling the last piece of the equipment from his bag, “This will hopefully allow him to tell us what he tried to communicate with you.”

A belittling snort escaped Cassidy. “A ouija board? Be serious.”

“I assure you, mate. We are quite serious,” Killian informed him as he took a seat upon the cold, cellar floor alongside his brother. “But if the idea of communing with the dead is too much for you, then feel free to sit outside while we conduct our investigation.”

Clearly catching the challenge to his courage, Cassidy grit his teeth and grumbled in Emma’s ear. “Can you believe this guy?”

“Neal,” Emma sighed with a tone of censure. “Shut up and sit down.”

Entering into the circle, Emma lowered herself onto the stone floor and crossed her legs beneath her. Reluctantly, Cassidy followed, a disgruntled look passing over his features in response to the sitting arrangement that had placed him between Emma and Liam instead of separating her from Killian.

“A few ground rules before we get started,” Liam began, holding the planchette in his hands.

“I think we’ve all played with ouija boards before,” Cassidy interrupted rudely, earning him a stern stare from the elder Jones.

“Aye,” Liam responded with a cutting edge to his words. “You may well have, but what we are preparing to do is not child’s play. We are opening a portal to the spirit realm, and for all our safety, precautions must be taken and adhered to.”

Cassidy shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing more.

“Go on,” Emma urged. “We’ll do whatever you tell us to.”

“Right,” Liam began again. “Once we’ve placed our hands on the planchette, they must remain there until the session is concluded. I shall be the only one addressing the spirits, so you must refrain from talking or reacting. And when it becomes clear that the spirits are finished communicating, we must all close the session together by moving the planchette to goodbye. This is the only time we intentionally guide it. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. The seriousness of their endeavor hung heavily around them as Liam continued.

“I’m going to set the planchette on the board, but before anyone touches it, we need to attune the space.” Setting the planchette down, Liam extended his hands to Killian and Cassidy, saying, “Everyone needs to join hands and focus on the spirit we wish to call forth.”

Killian took his brother’s hand then opened the other to receive Emma’s. When she tentatively placed her hand in his, Killian glanced up at her face. They locked eyes for a brief moment before she flicked hers away, but Killian knew his touch was having the same effect on her that her touch was having on him. There was no mistaking the familiar physical tension they’d once shared under similar circumstances.

“Focus on the person we seek,” Liam instructed. “We know him to be a man. We know there is something he wishes to communicate. We know this space was his final resting place until a few weeks ago. However you choose to manifest him within your mind, hold that image there and focus on him.”

Difficult as it was, Killian tried to push aside thoughts of Swan and the feel of her hand in his. Even still, she remained a fixture in his attempt to concentrate. She was there when he thought of the man’s body being discovered. She was there when he imagined how he may have looked when he’d manifested himself to her. She was there with every noise, every scent, every strange occurrence that had led her to reaching out to the one person she knew could help her. Despite the tragic circumstances that led the man to being walled up within the cellar, Killian could not help but feel gratitude to the spirit who had brought Emma Swan back into his life.

“Right,” Liam said a moment later. “With the man still centered in everyone’s mind, place your hands on the planchette.”

Killian sucked in a breath at the loss of her hand, but quickly schooled his emotions and joined the others, placing his hands upon the planchette and readying himself for what was to come.

“We call forth the spirit of the man found concealed behind the wall in this cellar,” Liam called out. “We ask that he come forth and tell us his name. What is your name, spirit?”

The temperature dropped and several of the candle’s flames flickered. Killian could hear Emma’s rapid breaths over the pounding of his own heart.

“Spirit!” Liam called out again. “We invite you to tell us your name!”

A gasp fell from Emma’s lips when the planchette jerked beneath their fingers. With wide, green eyes, she cast her gaze towards Killian as the planchette slid across the board. He gave her a look of encouragement, hoping his own gaze conveyed that there was nothing to fear - that he would not let any harm come to her - before her eyes fell back to the board and the word being spelled out beneath their fingers.

“D-A-N-I-E-L,” Liam read out as the planchette roamed across the board. “Daniel? Your name is Daniel?”

Yes

“What is it you want, Daniel?”

H-E-L-P

“You need help? That’s why we’re here. How can we help you to move on?”

H-E-L-P

“We understand. How can we help? What do you need us to do?”

T-E-L-L-H-E-R

“Tell her? Her who? You want us to deliver a message to someone?

Yes

“You need to tell us who. Who is her?”

L-O-V-E

“Someone you loved?”

Yes

“What’s her name?”

R-R-R-R-R-R-R … No

“No? No, what?”

“We don’t understand. No, you don’t want to tell us her name?”

C-A-N-T

“You can’t?”

C-A-N-T

“Why can’t you?”

C-C-C-C-C-C

Killian leaned over and whispered into his brother’s ear. “Another spirit maybe? Interference from another entity?”

“Is there another spirit with us? Someone who does not want you to communicate with us?”

Yes

Killian removed his hands from the planchette, earning him a startled gasp from Swan and a scathing reprimand from his brother.

“Killian!” Liam hissed. “What the devil are you--”

“Use my energy, Daniel,” Killian offered, opening his arms, and himself, up in surrender. “Take my energy and manifest yourself. Tell us who’s trying to silence you.”

“Brother, have you lost all sense?”

“It’s alright, Daniel,” Killian encouraged, ignoring his brother. “You can take my energy and--”

Killian’s words fell away when the fine hairs began to lift over his entire body. His arms began to feel heavy and it was a struggle to keep them lifted, especially when his breathing also became laboured.

“Killian, put your damn hands back on the--”

Liam’s admonishment was cut short by a startled, expletive falling from Emma’s lips. Manifesting above the board, in the center of their circle, was the ghostly image of a young man.

“Is that… Daniel?”

“That’s the man we saw!” Emma confirmed, her eyes wide as saucers and brimming with equal amounts of fear and awe. Forgetting herself, and the rules, she tentatively asked, “Are you…? Are you Daniel?”

The spectre nodded. He couldn’t have been more than early to mid twenties when he died, and though it was difficult to ascertain certain physical identifiers like height or hair or eye color, given his current metaphysical state, his clothing could serve as a clue that would narrow down the timeframe of his passing.

“Tell us how we can help you?” Liam said.

Killian, relieved that his brother was willing to capitalize on the moment, knew that he’d get an earful later, especially if Daniel managed to draw energy off him to the point of him passing out. Though woozy, Killian focused his efforts on the questions his brother continued to repeat and the spirit’s attempted replies.

“Who is the woman you want us to contact? Who else is here with us?”

Daniel tried again and again to speak, but the sound of his voice could not pass from his plane to theirs. Reaching down with ghostly hands, Daniel nudged the planchette and guided it once more to the R. Before he could maneuver it to the next letter, a second pair of hands appeared from behind Daniel’s head and wrapped around his lower face, obscuring his mouth.

Emma screamed and Neal jolted back, nearly knocking over the candles behind him.

“Nope!” Cassidy exclaimed, scrambling off the floor and sprinting towards the stairs.

“Neal!” Swan called after him, though she remained rooted where she was with her hands still affixed to the planchette.

Daniel struggled against the phantom hands, clawing at them with his own while Liam tried to wrestle back control of the seance.

“Reveal yourself, spirit! Tell us who you are and why you wish to silence Daniel! What unfinished business does Daniel--”

The planchette began to spin, making it impossible for Liam and Emma’s hands to remain there. An impossible gust of cold wind swept through the cellar, extinguishing the candles and ruffling both Killian’s and Emma’s hair. The light bulb at the bottom of the stairs shattered, sending down a shower of sparks. The only illumination remaining was Daniel’s ghostly form, but it too was quickly snuffed out, leaving the three of them in darkness.

“Bloody hell,” Liam cursed, the sound of him rummaging through his duffle preceding the beam of his flashlight. Reaching over, he grasped Killian’s shoulder and questioned, “Are you alright, little brother?”

“Younger,” Killian muttered, earning him a relieved clap on the back from his brother; his petulant response the only proof Liam needed as to his brother’s condition.

“You two stay still,” Liam instructed. “I’ll relight the candles and clean up the glass. Is there a broom down here?”

“Y-Yeah,” Emma responded, shakily. “In that cabinet.” She gestured towards the corner, then offered, “But I can do that.”

“No,” Liam said, waving her off as he finished lighting the candles. “You stay with Killian. He’s going to need a minute to recover from his tomfoolery.”

“It got us answers, didn’t it?” Killian shot back, heavily. Drained of energy, it was all he could do to remain sitting upright, but he’d be damned if he let Liam know just how much the encounter had affected him.

“Aye. I suppose it did,” Liam conceded, procuring the broom and dustpan so he could begin sweeping up the broken bulb.

“What answers?” Emma asked. “All I have is more questions.”

“We know there’s indeed another spirit here,” Killian told her. “A woman, if the ringed fingers and manicured nails give any indication. We also have a name to work with - Daniel. Based on his manifestation, I’d wager he was in his mid 20s when he died and by the looks of his clothing, I would guess he worked as a stablehand at some point. That gives us a frame of reference to work with as we investigate his identity further.”

“Speaking of which,” Liam said, disposing of the broken glass and tucking the broom back into the cabinet. “You said you had a friend assisting with research?”

“Yes!” Emma replied, plucking her phone from her back pocket. “Belle. I’ll text her now and see if she’s ready to share her findings with us.”

“Perhaps you would like to check on Mr. Cassidy as well?” Liam suggested, reminding them both of the forgotten man.

“Um, right. Yeah.” Swan stood and brushed the dust off the back of her jeans. Her phone vibrated in her hand, capturing her attention. “Belle says she has everything ready and we can come by the library any time.”

“Terrific,” Killian responded, attempting to pick himself up off the floor… and flailing. “Um, Swan? Would you mind, uh…”

Emma glanced down at him and must have perceived his predicament. Her eyes widened, a startled expression crossing her features, as she reached down and helped him up.

With a steadying hand pressed against his chest, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a bit… unsteady.”

“Here,” she said, leading him towards the stairs where he could rest against the banister. “Better?”

“Aye. Thank you, love.”

Her posture stiffened in response to the endearment and she turned away, intent on climbing the steps out of the cellar. Killian reached out and lightly grasped her elbow, stalling her steps.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… are you alright? I should have asked how you’re handling the ordeal.”

“I’m fine,” she told him. Her position on the steps had brought her to eye level and though there was still only candlelight illuminating their surroundings, Killian could see the truth of her words in her eyes. “This isn’t my first haunted rodeo. Remember?”

Killian let out an amused huff. “Aye. How could I forget.”

They stood there a moment longer, Killian’s hand still resting against the crook of her elbow. He could feel the raised flesh of her arm through the thin fabric of her sleeve and wondered if it was a remnant of the ghostly encounter or perhaps an involuntary response to his touch.

Was he wrong to hope for the latter?

“I, uh… I should go check on Neal,” she said, dragging her tongue across her lip before her teeth scraped over the tender flesh in its wake.

The sound of something heavy scraping the floor above them pulled Killian from thoughts of capturing her mouth with his own, and almost too late he noticed an object about to hurl itself down the cellar steps.

“Swan! Look out!”

With all the strength he could muster, he managed to force her against the wall, shielding her as something crashed down the stairs. Their bodies pressed together, chests heaving against the other’s, it took them both several moments to process what had just happened.

“Emma!” Neal cried out, sprinting through the floors above and coming to a stop at the top of the cellar stairs. Staring down at his girlfriend who was currently being blanketed by another man, Neal’s face grew thunderous as he exclaimed, “What the hell is going on here?!”

“It appears to be some sort of statue,” Liam commented. Killian wasn’t sure if it was genuine ignorance as to the man’s meaning or if his brother simply wished to avoid a scene. Crouched down, Liam inspected the object and added, “Lucky the two of you managed to get out of the way. This could have done serious harm.”

Swan pushed against Killian’s chest, forcing him to step back from her so she could turn and take the man still fuming at the top of the stairs to task.

“It was that stupid garden statue of Pan you insisted on bringing inside!” she shouted. “I told you not to leave it in the hall!”

“How was I supposed to know a ghost could move it?” Neal shot back. “The thing weighs like fifty pounds!”

Stomping up the stairs, Swan grabbed Neal by the arm and hauled him away from the cellar entrance. Although Killian could not discern what was being said between them, there was no mistaking the tone of argument in their voices. He probably ought to feel guilty for having a hand in their current discord, but all he could focus on at the moment was the way his body was still reacting to having been pressed against Emma’s. The way she’d felt beneath his weight, the intoxicating scent of her hair, the feel of her hands clutching the back of his shirt, the way their eyes had connected after the danger had passed, the moment their gazes flicked down in unison to the other’s lips, the impulse he’d nearly given in to kiss her, the certainty he felt that the same desire had run through her mind as well.

“Brother,” Liam said, his tone making Killian groan internally.

He knew what was coming.

“Don’t,” he replied. “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh?”

“Aye,” Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was rash and foolish in the way I invited the spirit to use my energy, and I need to get my head on straight. No more distractions.”

“Actually,” Liam said, hoisting his duffle, which he’d repacked, up onto his shoulder before crossing the cellar and joining Killian on the stairs. “I was going to say… A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Slapping his brother on the shoulder he continued up the steps, leaving Killian utterly gobsmacked.

Chapter Three - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

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@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

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#cs ff #csff #cs fic #csfic #cs au #captain swan #cs bingo #cs spooky bingo #being ghosted #words by hollye

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mimisempai · 1 year ago

Text

A token of gratitude

Summary

The shopkeepers of Whickber Street have decided to show their gratitude to Aziraphale and Crowley. With the help of Muriel and even the Bentley, they're preparing a little surprise for the angel and the demon.

Notes

Day 7 : Slow dancing

On Ao3

Rating G - 1369 words

All set, angel?

Received 19:30

Yes, Muriel is with me.

The lovebirds should be here soon.

Sent 19:32

Nina couldn't help but smile as she watched the bookshop from the coffee shop. For once it was fun to be one of those in the know.

Then her gaze was drawn to the Bentley parked in its reserved spot. The strange car no longer surprised anyone in the neighborhood, just as people had gotten used to the kind bookseller and his equally kind, though he denied it, dark partner.

It had been easy to convince the other shopkeepers on Whickber Street to prepare this little surprise. They all had the same kind of amnesia about the night of the ball in the bookshop, but they all had the same impression.

They'd been in danger, and Crowley and Aziraphale had protected them.

There were often small disagreements among the shopkeepers, but they were all unanimous about this.

It was Maggie, of course, who came up with the idea.

Her incurable romantic Maggie, Nina thought fondly.

The two of them had talked to all the shopkeepers present at the ball and had met with no resistance; on the contrary, everyone had been eager to participate.

Is the music on?

Sent 7:33 pm

The record is on the gramophone and the bee will do the rest.

Received 7:34 pm

Mr. Arnold had seen to it that they found the record as soon as they knew what song it was.

It was Muriel who told them what it was. When Maggie and Nina been looking for the right song to make their two friends dance, Muriel had made a mysterious face and said they had a secret way of finding out. They returned to Maggie an hour later with the lyrics to a song that Muriel didn't know, but that Maggie found in the second. Muriel also said they would take care of turning on the gramophone and the light when the time was right.

Were you able to finish in time?

Received 7:34 pm

Yes, thank you for the wine and appetizers

Sent 7:35 pm

Justine hadn't hesitated for a second to prepare delicious appetizers and fetch the best champagne from the restaurant's cellar, and had helped decorate the bookshop with Mrs. Sandwhich and Mrs. Cheng, but had had to leave early to open her restaurant.

Mutt had distracted Aziraphale by inviting him to the magic shop for a session of prestidigitation, and Muriel had managed to draw Crowley into one of their escapades, a story about duck and frozen peas that Nina hadn't quite understood, but the important thing was that the two heroes of the party wouldn't be around all afternoon, leaving the way clear for them.

Here they come!

Received 7:45 pm

Well, now everything was ready, and all that remained was to wait for the report of a certain bee when the time would come.

**********

Aziraphale and Crowley each arrived at one side of the bookshop and came face to face in front of the door.

"Oh, Angel, you're here too? So how was it playing the amazing Mr. Fell?"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and swatted him on the arm before replying, "Well, Mr. Cheeky Demon, I'll have you know Mutt was amazed at some of my little tricks."

Crowley replied with a smile on his face, "I don't doubt it. I too have been...amazed."

"What about you? Did you have fun with Muriel?"

Crowley opened the door and was about to answer him when suddenly the chandelier lit up and a banner came down with the words "Thank you" written in beautiful gold letters.

Both looked at each other in confusion and asked at the same time, "Was that you?"

Then they both shook their heads in unison.

They moved a little farther into the shop when all of a sudden Aziraphale tugged on Crowley's arm and exclaimed, "Look!"

He pointed to a small table where a tray of appetizers, a bottle of champagne, and two flutes were nicely arranged.

They approached and saw a small piece of paper leaning against the bottle.

Crowley picked it up and unfolded it before holding it up so that Aziraphale could read it with him.

A small thank you from the shopkeepers to the two guardian angels of Whickber Street.

Enjoy it.

Crowley chuckled, "The two guardian angels..."

He couldn't continue because Aziraphale had put a finger over his mouth and said gently, "Don't spoil this gift, just accept it, my dear."

Then he took the bottle of champagne, opened it and filled both glasses. After that, he grabbed the glasses and handed one to Crowley before continuing, "Let's toast and do as they wrote, enjoy ourselves."

Crowley didn't protest, reached for the glass and clinking it against the angel's, said softly, "To us and to the shopkeepers of Whickber Street."

"To us and to the shopkeepers of Whickber Street."

They each took a sip of champagne as the light from the chandelier suddenly dimmed and strings of lights went up everywhere, creating a soft, warm mood while music played softly from the gramophone.

Recognizing the music, Crowley smiled, "Looks like they've all been hard at work discovering our little secrets."

Aziraphale nodded before setting down his glass and holding out his hand to Crowley, he said gently, "May I have this dance?"

Crowley set down his glass in turn and took the angel's hand.

Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley's shoulder, while the demon's hand naturally rested on his hip.

They began to turn gently to the sound of the music.

After a few moments, the angel's arms wrapped around the demon's waist, and he rested his head on his shoulder. In response, Crowley tied his arms behind Aziraphale's back and rested his chin on the angel's head as they continued to sway gently to the music.

The demon asked softly, "Is this how you planned to woo me on the night of the ball, Angel?"

Aziraphale laughed softly and replied, "More or less..."

"Oh... and what did you have planned after the dance?"

"I have to admit, I hadn't thought that far ahead."

Crowley pushed him back a little and took the angel's chin, lifting it toward him as he said softly, "A kiss, perhaps?"

Aziraphale smiled playfully and replied, "Are you the one wooing me now?"

Crowley brought his face close to the angel's and murmured against his lips, "Is it working?"

Aziraphale breathed, "Try it and you'll see."

Crowley closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to the angel's in a soft kiss that lingered as they continued to sway to the rhythm of the music.

At that moment, indifferent to what wasn't them, they didn't see a little bee lock the door to the bookshop, making sure the angel and demon wouldn't be disturbed.

Then they turned toward the coffee shop, gave Nina, who had been joined by Maggie, a thumbs up, and headed home.

As they passed the Bentley, they ran their hand gently along the car's body and murmured, "Thanks for your help."

Early in the morning, Muriel leaned back against the Bentley and with an air of nonchalance, they said quietly, "I know you can understand me, so let me in, I have something important to ask you about Crowley and Aziraphale."

They weren't quite sure it would work, but how did humans say it? Ah yes, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Muriel jumped slightly when the door opened and then immediately climbed inside.

They kindly said, "Thank you. I know there's something about your radio and music. I need to know, if you know, what song would be perfect for Aziraphale and Crowley."

As soon as they finished their sentence, music started playing on the car radio.

Muriel didn't know the song, but after all, they knew very little, so they jotted down the lyrics in their little notebook.

Then they said gently, "Thank you!" before getting out of the car and walking over to Maggie's.

When they walked into the record store, they immediately asked the blond woman, "Maggie, do you know a song about a nightingale singing in Berkeley Square?"

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

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tadpw-au · 1 month ago

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TADPW AU ideas: Adventures and level generations

You know, since I haven't talked about my Pomni White AU all that much, maybe I should start to really explore how Caine's adventures are made.

The dwarf players are always sent to "go to work" in a diamond mine where Caine generates a new adventure for them to go on everyday. Depending on where the mines generate them to, it can range from anything Caine creates; dark, abandoned houses, kingdoms made entirely out of candy, and even a...fast food restaurant once? The levels are always often randomized and sometimes Caine tends to reuse NPCs from his story as well.

For Pomni White, since she's the protagonist who is meant to help take care of the dwarves, she's usually forced into staying at home to cook dinner for them. However, considering how bad she can cook, Caine allows her to go on their adventures every once in awhile while Bubble stays to cook. Somehow, everytime Pomni White goes on one, she always manages to get herself thrown into danger or off the level's map somehow.

For her first adventure, Pomni White, Ragatha, and Jax had to encounter what it meant to abstract. They were supposed to be trying to stop the Gloink Queen from taking over all of the land. Running into the woods of gloinks to get away from it, she remembered an exit-like door in there. When she reaches it, she's shown going from room-to-room, office after office, slowly losing her mind until she's caught in "the void". After Caine saves her, he stops the abstraction by forcing it into a place called "the cellar". This has left a major impression on her mental decline in this digital story.

Her second adventure was one where the dwarves were told to retrieve syrup with Pomni being guarded by the same huntsman who saved her, Gummigoo. Recognizing him, she tried to see if he remembered her. Unfortunately, he couldn't and believed that he was just a guard assigned to protect the princess.

When they somehow glitched out of bounds, he starts to see his NPC model and starts questioning his existence. After a long talk with Pomni explaining why she recognized him from before, he and Pomni had become close friends. The moment they got back to the level, Gummigoo decided to sneak out of his level to spend more time with Pomni.

Among arriving back at the dwarves' shack, he took note of how peaceful and secluded the place was. It was perfect to keep himself laying low for a little while. Unfortunately, Caine came and decided to poof him away. The reason why could be for many reasons. Maybe he noticed how close Gummigoo was getting to his true love, thus deleting him. Maybe it was just server procedure to make sure no one gets mistaken for a player/NPC in the dwarves' shack. Or maybe he just did it because it was already crowded in a shack of seven dwarves and one princess. Either way, Pomni White still mourned for her new friend and protector's life after Caine had gotten rid of him.

Her third adventure was in an old and abandoned castle from Queen Mildenhall. The place was overrun by ghosts, especially one of Pomni's late mother. Caine stated that it was originally a level meant for Zooble to finally get out of the shack. However, they decided to stay at the shack and talk to Caine in a little private therapy session.

While Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax stayed above ground, Pomni White and Kinger were forced by Jax breaking Gangle's mask to go underground. There, they dealt with angels, spirits that possessed people, and even went to Hell together.

Pomni White discovered that Kinger had a wife who was originally a Snow White player. As such, he learned a lot about bugs from her, as well as developing her interest in the dark as well. When Caine caused her to abstract, Kinger uses the dark to remember her, as well as using her love for bugs. Kinger even sees a bit of his old wife in Pomni, especially outside of being placed in the role of Snow White.

After that adventure, Pomni had developed a closer relationship with Kinger. Whenever Caine noticed her being around him, he would start to worry that history would repeat itself. He'd already had to take care of one Snow White character for being with him, but what if Pomni White started to get too close to Kinger as well? Luckily, there was no romantic chemistry between them, but he would keep his eye on Kinger regardless.

On the next adventure Pomni White goes on, Caine would try to have Kinger stay at the shack while she helps the others at a fast food restaurant. It didn't really make sense for her, a princess, to work at a restaurant of all places, but luckily she won't have to cook anything for anyone as she'd mainly be put at a register.

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eric-the-bmo · 2 months ago

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Blood and Silicon ep23: Traitor's Blood

[Summary: On their way back to San Jose, Percy makes a discovery that leads to the coterie needing to collect some extra blood.] @sanguineasylum @kentuckycaverats @zwoelffarben

Retcon Notice: A small bit of last session had been rewritten, in which the moment of Amy sending Leo a text occurred before he faked his death- in addition, he also planted his burner phone on the body.

As we all roll Remorse checks at the start of the session, it's revealed that Percy failed his; our local Ventrue Antitribu is now at 5 Humanity.

It's a quiet drive at first as the boys are lost in thought about the man they killed in order to fake Leo's death. Leo feels awful about it, and is wondering about what kind of person that man was as he holds his hands together, picking at his nail polish. Blake keeps his eyes on the road, trying to appear nonchalant about it all. Percy's reading over some notes he took, quietly malding about the Lasombra's defection to the Camarilla. No one really speaks.

("[The coterie is] all so antisocial!" "I was gonna say we should lock them all into a room and force them to talk, but they're Already kind of locked in a room together and they're Still not saying anything")

At some point during the drive, Leo- in true roadtrip fashion- points out some cows that they're driving past. This prompts Percy to mention he grew up on a farm with his brothers; Leo glances at him, curious about this small lore drop, only to notice that Percy's grey eyes have gotten even more pale. Almost white. Blake asks Percy some little questions about being on a farm, and as a fun fact it turns out that Blake and Percy have ridden horses a few times, while Leo never had the opportunity to (though he was interested in it when he was a kid). It's just a nice little exchange about horses- though it's discovered that Percy's smile is a bit unsettling now that his Humanity has dropped.

It's getting close to dawn at this point. Percy suggests there's a place relatively close nearby that they can stay for the day; while traveling, he tells the coterie, the Sabbat would set up secret temporary havens for nomadic packs to rest up at. They're typically well-hidden, with no chance of Anarchs or Camarilla knowing of their locations, but Percy adds there might be a risk of Lupines since they're out in the wilderness. Other than that, it's a good place to stay and would shave some time off their roadtrip home.

Blake, however, is skeptical and does not want to spend the night in a Sabbat den- especially one with the risk of werewolves and the chance a pack might already be there. Blake suggests they can part ways and Percy reminds him he still has business in San Jose, mainly regarding the search for Leo's sire. After a tense discussion it's stated that Percy will spend the night at the haven and they'll pick him up later. Blake drives to the side of the road so Percy can walk to the haven. While grabbing his things Percy realizes he still has Kyra's old spear that our Gangrel has given him; he gives it back to Blake, who makes a quip about how Percy might need it for the werewolves.

Blake reassures a hesitant Leo that the two of them can check out the haven the next night when it's time to grab Percy; that seems to satisfy the curious Malk for the time being, and they drive to a hotel for the night. ___________

Percy makes his way through midwestern forest until he locates the hidden cellar door of the temporary Haven; It opens up with a creak. The place is dark, but with Hidden Senses Percy can see the haven's a bit small, and he disarms a tripwire trap before he enters and puts his bags down. Now he can see it's dusty, with a few crates stacked around- a small Sabbat emblem is scratched into the wood of one of them.

Percy uses a (possibly) slightly blood-stained shovel to pry open that crate, which turns out was being used to hide a secret hatch! However, it's got a pretty strong letter padlock on it. On the inside of the crate a carving reads "In Nomine _____," and so Percy puts the word "Caine" into the padlock to open up the hatch. After examining the contents of the other crates (which had nails, candles and cans of gasoline), our cultist descends down the hatch's ladder to enter yet another room.

Cots line the walls, which are pained with Sabbat iconography. There's a small cache of melee weapons- straight-up there is a sword in there- and in the middle of the room is a table (an altar?) with a black bowl. Another thing lying on the table, the most notable thing in the room, is a shirtless and beat-up Kindred with a stake driven through his chest. He's got a crucific tattoo, and there's a note on top of his body: ["Traitor's blood. Still good to eat."]

Percy determines he's not going to do that; he's connecting some dots, and figures the man is a Lasombra. He wants to de-stake him and ask some questions, but knows if he does that now he's going to get attacked by a Frenzying vampire- he needs to find some blood other than his own for the man to feed on.

And so our Ventrue heads out into the surrounding forest to go hunting.

------

Meanwhile, the other two Kindred have checked into a hotel and are sun-proofing the place. Blake gets a text from Percy informing him about the staked man- but in code and vague terms, of course, just in case the Inquisition is listening in. Leo is looking over Blake's shoulder to read their conversation.

Blake: "Plan on waking him up before or after we swing by?" Percy: "At my earliest convenience. Unless you and Mr. Leo would prefer to be present?"

At this point Blake notices Leo and glances at him. Leo shirks back and busies himself with continuing to sun-proof the room; given his already-low self-esteem and the guilt from earlier in the night, he's assumed Blake was annoyed at him. Blake offers to get some extra blood from the stranger and agrees to meet up with Percy at the haven the next night.

---

Dec 29, 2021.

Leo fails a Rouse Check, so he wakes up with a pretty bad headache as he gets to 3 Hunger. Blake sends Percy a text that they're about to head out to get some blood, and as he continues his morning routine Leo decides to ask him that he's spoken as if he's run into the Sabbat before? Blake merely responds that if one survives in this unlife long enough, they're bound to run into that sect.

["-Whether it's a gaggle of shovelheads or a Templar, apparently."]

Blake lets Leo know that they need to pick something up, and suggests maybe afterwards the Kid can ask more questions. He comments that despite being a guy who likes his secrecy, Leo sure does want to know a lot about others.

["And I'm not judging you," he says, grabbing his car keys, "I'm just saying." The Malkavian shrugs- looks away. "Everyone's a bit hypocritical," he mutters. "Don't I know it."] ________

Blake figures the best place to easily get blood would be a medical setting, so he drives towards a clinic. Leo's a bit uneasy about the whole idea, but hey what else are ya gonna do about it. They reach the parking lot, and so starts the escapade of lying to hospital employees.

["Stay here." Blake leaves the car, pauses, and then turns around to point at Leo. "Actually stay here."]

Blake enters the place but doesn't use Blush of Life as he speaks to the receptionist; he explains to her he's new here, and nervously asks if they do walk-ins, etc etc, are there any forms he should sign? She asks what his symptoms are, and Blake does a pretty good job in pretending to be hesitant in admitting that he thinks he might have a UTI. Blake is given some forms to fill out and is told a doctor will see him in a bit; he fills it out quicky, putting down a fake name as his player implies Blake's might've done this before- though he's gotta do some mental math for putting down a false date of birth.

(Meanwhile, Leo's trying his best to stay preoccupied, which is a bit difficult bc 1) he's at 3 hunger and a bit fidgety bc of it, and 2) this is Leo here; but he manages to not get up to anything. He considers using Premonition on Blake's jeep, but settles on replaying his Kirby game.)

Back at the clinic, Blake speaks to a doctor about the (not real) UTI issue, and is directed to the restroom so they can get a urine sample, and the doctor leaves the room. Blake obviously doesn't do as he's told, and instead starts to make his way to the back of the clinic; it's an emergency clinic area, so everyone is busy and doesn't quite pay him any mind.

He sneaks into the room where they store the blood bags and finds six of them. Blake takes half, putting them in the inside pockets of his jacket, and dips outta there and heads back to the car.

Notes/Ramblings:

"Percy can't fuck no more" -the ST on Percy getting to 5 Humanity

The horse conversation really was such a Nothing conversation but i'm including it here anyway

Leo my beloved. Sabbat hater and Percy disliker but also he is So so curious about the haven

One of our ideas for un-staking the man without him attacking Percy was for Percy to like. Tie a rope around the stake and pull it out once he's at the top of the ladder so that Percy isn't the first thing the man sees and would instead go for the blood we'll leave out for him. It's like tying a string to a loose tooth and also a door yknow

The idea of Leo not knowing that vampires can frenzy after being de-staked is kinda funny. "I've been staked multiple times before and I was fine, dw about it-"

I cant believe Blake's player and the ST roleplayed a "hey i might have a UTI" hospital scene. my god. and meanwhile leo is trying to Not do stupid impulsive stuff. blood and silicon truly is a comedy at times

#eric finally speaks #blood and silicon

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billboard-hotties-tourney · 11 months ago

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John Coltrane (1926-1967) session musician; bandleader Songs: "Blue Train," "Resolution" Propaganda: "Started making a name for himself with Davis, then grew in his own right and became just as influential. ALSO hot as hell"

Tom Waits (1949-) solo Songs: "Ol' 55," "Tom Traubert's Blues" Propaganda: "His voice. His voice alone is hotter than anything else in the universe to me."

Visual Propaganda for Tom Waits:

#john coltrane #tom waits #billboard hotties tourney #round one

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artemis-73 · 3 months ago

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Suptober Day 8: Witch's Brew

All Charlie wanted was for the big finale of the Moondoor season to be epic. It was starting to get colder, and with the chill came a hiatus. No one wanted to freeze their butts off in a field, after all. Dean had assured her that what she already had in mind was perfect, but she wanted an extra something to make the season stand out from all the ones that had come before it.

When she researched possible special effects, beyond the fireworks and smoke machines, she'd found a single message board post with a handful of replies of someone talking about their final LARP session before they had to move across the country, where they'd paid a pretty penny for a transfiguration potion from a local apothecary. They'd done the entire session as an actual orc.

That was where the maybe-probably witch came into the picture.

In a local Facebook group for gamers, someone had mentioned in passing getting a tincture for their carpal tunnel five years before. Apparently the witch had been surly but fairly priced, and the cure had worked.

Charlie had messaged them for an address and hoped that it was still accurate.

The shack--really, it couldn't be called anything more--was crammed into the back alley of a butcher shop. It looked abandoned except for the freshly-painted "Meg's" in swooping letters on the door and the tiny neon sign in the window that declared the shop open.

Charlie was surprised the door didn't shriek like something out of an old horror movie. Instead, it swung open easily to reveal a cozy room with burgundy walls and rows of rough wood shelves covered in vials, jars, and flasks.

There was a bar-height counter on the far side of the room, upon which sat an old timey cast iron cash register and a flickering candle that smelled like tobacco and cinnamon.

"Hello?" Charlie called into the empty room, hesitant to step in.

"Do you need a hand-written invitation?" a muffled voice drawled from somewhere behind the counter. There was the distinct sound of glasses clinking together. "I'm a little busy!"

"Sorry! I'll just take a look around."

"You do that."

Even though she had no idea what she was really looking for and would much rather have asked the witch, she forced herself to start perusing the shelves in silence. All of the containers were clearly labeled, but they were small potatoes: arthritis, chapped lips, dry eyes, indigestion.

A muffled curse came from behind the counter.

"Um, do you--" Charlie started then stopped herself. She didn't want to be a bother, but... "Do you need some help?"

A frustrated huff then "Fine."

More hesitantly than was warranted for someone who had offered to help, she rounded the counter and was surprised to find a hole into some sort of cellar.

"Here," the familiar voice said before a box of potions was lifted high enough for her to reach.

It was heavier than it looked, but she managed to get it up onto the counter. She turned around, not sure if there'd be another box, but was met instead with a woman--Meg, presumably--darting up the ladder. Charlie nearly leapt out of her skin.

"Hello," she said a little breathlessly.

Meg arched one unimpressed brow at her. "Hi. Can you--" She gestured to the customer side of the counter.

"Right. Totally. Sorry." Charlie backed away.

She'd expected an old crone, but Meg was, well, not that. She looked to be about Charlie's age, and she was wearing leather and had mischievous, dark eyes that gave Charlie butterflies like she was teenager again.

"Did you find what you need?" the witch asked as she swung the door over the hole and locked it.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something more...custom?"

Meg visibly perked up at that, though she tried to hide it. "Maybe. If the price is right."

"It will be."

"Well, why didn't you lead with that?"

"You're, like, really intimidating," Charlie word-vomited like an idiot. "And hot. Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That's weird. That's so weird. I can leave."

Meg smiled, sharp and amused, and tilted her head like she was looking at Charlie for the first time. "I'll take the compliment if you're serious about forking out some cash."

Three hours later, Charlie left the shop with a potion that would make her sprout wings and levitate--which was totally fucking awesome--and Meg's number. To report on how the session went and in case she ever wanted another potion, of course.

#I just think meg/charlie is neat #and in an urban fantasy setting who wouldn't spend way too much money on a potion to make their LARP session even cooler?#Idk this prompt didn't come easy to me and I hated all my ideas until this one sprung fully formed into my head like twenty minutes ago #and yes this is how Dean and Cas end up being introduced #i love finding new variations of getting these four in the same room #this one might get a sequel in suptober because I LOVE witch meg???#suptober #suptober24 #short ficlet #supernatural #meg/charlie #meg masters #charlie bradbury #idk do they even have a ship tag? they do in my heart

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levi-venn · 10 months ago

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The First Toothpick

Chapter Six: Oh, He's Much Worse...

Characters: Cad Bane, Crosshair, Tech (Flashbacks), Hunter (Flashbacks), Wrecker (Flashbacks)

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: When Crosshair finds Bane outnumbered, he disobeys orders to protect his mentor.

Read the previous chapters here:

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Also Available on AO3

Crosshair bolted past the spring-loaded mirrored panels breaching the wheat field like glassy-eyed sea snakes. There was no pattern to the way the panels appeared, and in the month he had trained here, they never popped out of the same place twice.

But he didn’t have time to think about that…or anything else.

Not with Bane watching him in the bell tower, the Duros's blaster fire hot on Crosshair's heels, searing past his ankles, his legs, and sometimes his ears if he stopped moving entirely.

Three panels suddenly burst around him, and Crosshair leapt forward, missing the bolt flying past his back. He fired his rifle three times.

He hit two targets.

He missed the third target by a mile.

A month ago, Crosshair would have frozen up over a miss like that, but then again, Bane wasn’t firing live blaster bolts at him before a month ago.

Crosshair dropped into a backward roll, hopped to his feet, and fired again.

Perfect bullseye.

I did it! I-

He ducked as a bolt sizzled over his head.

He kept running.

Run. Dodge. Roll. Fire. Miss. Run! Dodge. Fire. Hit!

The exercise lasted all day, every day, and his accuracy soared to the low nineties as of this week. Bane told Crosshair to ignore the “damn numbers”, but Todo still snuck him the statistics after every session.

Yesterday it was ninety-two percent. Today, felt like-

The panels suddenly vanished. Crosshair skidded to a halt. He stood in the middle of the field, his lungs on fire, sweat trickling down his back, muscles coiled, ready for the next challenge.

But no panels came.

Crosshair looked up at the bell tower and pulled his comm out. “I can continue,” Crosshair panted, trying (and failing) not to overanalyze the sudden end to his training.

Did I miss too many targets today? Has he given up on me?

“Get inside,” Bane said, through the comms.

Crosshair’s heart dropped.

Ninety-two isn’t good enough. I knew it. It’s not enough.

“I can do better.”

He saw the glow of Bane’s eyes glare at him from the bell tower. “Dank farrik, kid, you did great. Now get inside, now .”

Great? Crosshair thought, looking around the field as if expecting Bane to talk to anyone but him. He's never called me "great" before. Was I really-

A blaster bolt shot just past his pant leg, the fabric sizzling noisily.

With an angry hiss, Crosshair ran inside the house.

The false wall within the fireplace slid open and Bane leapt down from the bell tower, firing his boot thrusters to cushion his landing. He pushed past Crosshair and pulled out his monoculars, looking at something past the field Crosshair couldn’t see.

Crosshair tried to stand beside Bane, but Bane grabbed the top of his head and pushed him back. “Get upstairs.”

With a snarl of protest, Crosshair instead moved to the bay window beside the front door. He aimed his scope through the curtain, searching the field.

Todo into the house from the back door. “Mr. Bane! Skatter is here.”

“I see that.”

Crosshair didn’t see…wait…there was a speeder in the distance ignoring the winding roads and cutting directly through the expansive wheat field.

Todo floated beside Bane, his little hands on his blocky hips. “I don’t suppose he’s forgiven you for stealing his contracts from the Hutts.”

“Didn’t steal ‘em,” Bane said, tucking the monoculars away and leaning in the doorway. “They were Jango’s contracts to give away. Not my fault Skatter didn’t earn ‘em like I did.”

“Mmm…” Todo hummed. “I don’t think he saw it that way.”

“Move the Fabools to the storm cellar, then hide out of sight in the field. Be ready to fight if it comes to that.”

“Finally, a little excitement,” Todo said, cheerfully and flew off.

Crosshair could see the speeder better now. There were four weequays in the back of the speeder and a dowutin driving, taking up the entire front seat.

They all looked mean, and much bigger than Bane.

“You,” Bane snapped. “Go upstairs and stay in your room.”

Crosshair blinked. “But there’s five of them. You need backup-”

“I ain’t askin’, I’m tellin’. Now git.”

Crosshair held Bane’s gaze defiantly for a few seconds, before slinging his rifle over his shoulder and making a show of walking upstairs, his boot falls heavy and noisy. As soon as Bane went outside, however, Crosshair slid silently down the bannister and back to the bay window, peeking through the curtain.

Bane walked to the edge of the porch platform, leaning against one of the columns, pulling back his duster to reveal a pair of LL-30 blaster pistols at his hips. The brim of his hat was low, but Crosshair glimpsed a small, fearless smirk baring sharp, white fangs.

Crosshair didn't have fangs, but he curled his lip up all the same, checking his reflection against Bane's perfect sneer. He would try the expression when he got home. A Bane-quality sneer would definitely scare the shit out of the Regs.

Bane produced a toothpick from the pouch on his belt and set it casually between his teeth, resting his hands on his belt buckle as if he was getting ready to watch a sunset.

Crosshair could mimic the sneer, and even fished his own wheat stalk toothpick from his pocket, but he didn’t feel Bane’s ease. He was a coiled spring, his heart pounding and palms sweaty. There were five mercenaries and one Bane by himself on the porch. He didn’t like the odds.

The speeder burned through the wheat field leaving a stinking trail of burnt grass and exhaust fumes in its wake. It slid to a halt in front of the porch and the dowutin climbed out, his duster dragging heavily behind him, weighed down by half-hidden weapons, detonators, and blades.

Crosshair had never seen a dowutin in person, but his Humanoid Studies Class didn’t prepare him for how large one was in person. Bane was on the top step of the elevated porch and the dowutin still towered over him. He was built like a carbonite tank, muscled arms and legs that were round like barrels, and a pair of blunt tusks protruded from his chin like a pair of ball hammers. There was a black lightning bolt tattooed over the dowutin's left eye.

“Well lookee here, boys,” the dowutin snickered. “It’s little Caddy, lookin’ all big n’ tough on his boss’s ranch.”

Bane tilted the brim of his hat up, his glowing red eyes boring into Skatter, though that sneer remained on his face. “You’ve been gone a long time, Skatter, so maybe you ain’t up on current events. This ranch belongs to me n’ the name’s Bane, now.”

“Ohh, I heard all about your name. Cad Bane. Real cute. You think that makes you a real merc?”

Crosshair’s teeth clenched in anger. No one talked to Bane like that.

“You don’t get to talk to my brother like that, reg” Crosshair snarled, standing in front of Wrecker who was still kneeling over his broken tooka doll. “Back off.”

Both cadets laughed. “Ohh, look, Wrench! Another ‘Defective’. This one’s barely got a voice.”

“Sounds like a leaky faucet to me, Gutter,” Wrench laughed.

“They hurt Lula, Crosshair,” Wrecker whimpered, cradling the tooka’s head in his large hands.

“That’s what you get for snoopin’ around our mess hall,” Gutter said.

“Yeah! This mess hall’s for real clones,” Wrench said, “not broken tube rejects,”

“I said back off, regs” Crosshair’s fists clenched, “Final warning.”

Wrench stepped forward. “And I said, you’re defective.”

“Defective…” Crosshair sneered, his fists relaxing. “...but effective.”

He threw his forehead forward, hearing a satisfying crunch as he hit Wrench on the nose. As the cadet stumbled back, clutching his bleeding face, Crosshair ducked Gutter’s left hook and slammed his shoulder into his sternum, knocking him to the ground.

Wrench yanked Gutter to his feet and the two ran off down the hallway.

Wiping the blood from his forehead, Crosshair knelt beside Wrecker. “You good?”

Though his good eye was round and glassy with tears, Wrecker was still smiling ear-to-ear. “Hehehe, I liked that! We’re defective and effective!”

Crosshair smirked. “Well, I was at least. Next time, feel free to jump in.”

“I couldn’t leave Lula!” Wrecker sniffled. “She’s still broken.”

“Ugh, that stupid doll,” Crosshair sighed. “Come with me. Tech has a sewing kit.”

Crosshair waited for Bane to take a swing. To pull a blaster. To answer that insult with violence.

Instead, Bane sounded almost bored. “Nah, I let the bounties I collect for the Hutts do the talkin’ for me.”

The words seemed to hit Skatter harder than any headbutt.

“Those were my contracts and you know it,” Skatter said, face going red, his lip curling higher than Crosshair could mimic. Then suddenly, the duwotin’s expression eased into a too-nice smile. “But hey, that’s all water under the walkway. Listen, me n’ the boys gotta lay low for a few days. We uh…had a lil disagreement with the authorities down South. You don’t mind us stayin' here, do ya? Only eight of us.”

Over my dead body, Crosshair said, rechecking his menacing lip curl in the reflective mirror.

Good, still looks fearsome.

“Just eight huh? Don't y'all call yourself the Feisty Fourteen?”

“Fearless Fifteen,” Skatter growled.

“In any case, I can’t help ya. We’re full up here.”

“Funny, Caddy, last I heard you work alone except for that bucket of bolts that follows you around. Maybe we can be of some used to ya. Notice that lil enclosure behind the house. What's behind that curtain, huh? It ain't fabools is it? Cuz y'know, me n' the boys could look after them while we stay here.”

“Only thing in that enclosure are my collection of weequay heads that ask too many questions,” Bane said, giving the weequays in the speeder a little wink.

The weequays glared murderously from the back seat, their hands twitching near their blasters as if one wrong move meant a hail of blaster bolts aimed at Bane.

Kriff that, Crosshair thought. I won’t let them hurt him.

Bane may not be his brother, but he was Crosshair’s…someone. It didn’t matter that Bane was getting paid to do train him, he helped Crosshair find his confidence and that meant something. Even when Lt. Pynk gave up on him, even when Crosshair gave up on himself, Bane never stopped believing in what he could do. Bane may not know it yet, but he just earned Crosshair’s loyalty for life.

Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked boldly out of the front door.

“Cross, get out of here.” Hunter panted, clutching his leg.

“Not gonna happen,” Crosshair said, grabbing Hunter’s blaster off the ground and taking cover the barrier. He pressed the blaster into Hunter’s hand and the two of them took down the second wave of training droids together.

“I just bruised my ankle,” Hunter grimaced.

“I saw you fall off the platform. It’s fractured and you know it,” Crosshair said. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

Crosshair glared at Hunter. "Don't lie to me.”

Hunter held that glare for half a second, then dropped his gaze. “I think I broke my wrist, too.”

Crosshair turned around and patted his own back. “Climb on. I’m carrying you out of here.”

“Like hell you are. You have to focus on your scores. Pynk said-”

“Fuck my scores. We don’t leave our own behind. Even when they’re being idiots.”

The next wave of clankers started their approach towards the barricade. "Either climb on or I stun you and fireman carry you out of here. I prefer not to haul dead weight,” Crosshair looked back with a cheeky grin, “but it’s your choice.”

Hunter chose to wrap his good arm around Crosshair. “Thank you,” Hunter mumbled.

“Shut up,” Crosshair snipped, and fired wildly behind him as he ran to the next checkpoint, trying to ignore his score plummeting on the holoboard overhead.

“I’m done talkin’, Skatter,” Bane said, pulling out the toothpick and flicking it at the dowutin. It bounced off his broad chest and disappeared into the grass. “If I were you, I’d skedaddle before you say somethin’ you n’ yer boys’ll regret.”

As Crosshair walked out of the house, he realized Bane was already leaning against one of the porch pillars looking badass. There wasn't another spot to lean and look equally as menacing. So, Crosshair decided to stand in the center of the porch, arms folded, a piece of grass between his teeth and executing a perfectly threatening sneer.

Bane didn’t seem to notice his arrival, but Skatter’s beady black eyes zeroed in on him with laser focus. Crosshair had hoped his appearance would make the dowutin think twice before messing with this ranch…

…but Skatter just sneered right back.

“Huh…well, ain’t that interestin’...”

Bane’s head shifted ever so slightly to cast his scarlet gaze at Crosshair.

“Didn’t know you were a family man now, Caddy. Be a real shame if we made some violence in front of yer son. He could get hurt.”

Son…?

Crosshair was no one’s son. Clones didn’t have parents and all they needed was a trainer and the brothers in their squad. Still, Crosshair understood the concept, and when he thought of a "son", he imagined still images from his old picture books. Boys riding on their father’s shoulders, being taught how to shoot a blaster, how to shave, how to be strong and brave and…and all that kraytshit.

Bane did give me a new blaster rifle. And I feel stronger around him.

…I feel braver, too.

He’d probably say no to a piggyback ride, though.

Crosshair waited for Bane to correct Skatter.

Instead, Bane wore an easy smile. “The kid’s gotta learn sometime. Might as well take the trainin’ wheels off now.”

The duwotin didn’t respond.

No one moved.

The weequays looked from Skatter to Bane and back again.

Crosshair didn't breathe.

Skatter laughed suddenly. “Now, now, ain’t no need for that today. C’mon, boys, let’s leave this little family to their business. Sorry for disturbin’ ya, Caddy. No hard feelin's.” He looked directly at Crosshair and gave him a little wink. “I’ll see y’all real soon, though.”

And with that, Skatter hopped back into the speeder and tore out of the golden field, leaving oily black smoke behind.

Bane whirled around, the leather of his duster snapping angrily. “I told you to stay inside.”

Crosshair took a step back, the wheat wiggling loosely in his lips as he spoke. “You needed backup.”

Bane snatched the “toothpick” out of Crosshair’s mouth and pointed it at him. “How exactly were ya gonna do that, huh? Your rifle’s on your shoulder. You’re standing in the middle of the damn porch like a sittin’ porg. You think Skatter and his boys are gonna wait for you to find cover and line up a shot?" he threw Crosshair's toothpick into the grass. "What were ya thinkin’?”

An icy devastation froze Crosshair’s nerves.

“I thought…” Tears stung his eyes, his voice went quiet. “...I was your backup."

He said I was doing great…I failed him.

“Shit, kid,” Bane sighed. He knelt down to Crosshair's level. From this close, Bane’s pupiless eyes, while still unrelenting blood red pools, were far from emotionless. “You saw me outnumbered and you wanted to help, I get that, but Skatter’s ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle on my own. Besides, this ain’t your fight.”

“This isn’t your fight,” Tech said, dabbing the cut over his own eyebrow with a bacta swab.

“Your fight is always my fight,” Crosshair said, pulling out a bandage from the first aid kit.

“I have other goggles.”

“But you liked those goggles,” Crosshair insisted, swatting Tech’s hand away from the bandage. “The black straps are softer than the brown and don’t make your head itch.”

“True.” Tech sighed. He remained still while Crosshair fitted the bandage carefully over the cut. “But this is not a fight you can win. These Regs are older and bigger than us. You are as outnumbered as you are out-skilled.”

“I don’t need to win the fight, Tech,” Crosshair shrugged, standing up. “I just need to get your goggles back.”

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” Tech asked.

Crosshair gave an answer in the form of a snarky salute as he walked backwards out the door.

A half-hour later, Crosshair came back with a bloody grin, Tech’s goggles, and a Reg’s lunchbox filled with Tech’s favorite candy.

“Are those caramel Starsbars? Where did you get them?” Tech asked. He ripped the brown-band goggles off his head and fit his beloved black-band goggles on with a relieved sigh.

“I found them,” Crosshair lied.

“I find your answer vague…and amusing. Thank you.”

Crosshair was about to say “shut up” like he usually did when his brothers gave him gratitude, but he was cut off by Tech lunging at him, wrapping his arms around Crosshair’s neck.

Crosshair and Tech were often mistaken for twins being close to the same size and stature. Technically, Tech was born second, then Wrecker, then Crosshair. Still, when Tech hugged him, it felt like those moments when Crosshair would hug himself, especially during the scarier lightning storms rattling the windows above his bunk. It may be incorrect, but...Tech was as closest thing to a twin Crosshair had. It was a comfort.

“You can still tell me to shut up if you want,” Tech said, as if knowing what Crosshair was thinking.

Crosshair smirked and hugged his brother back. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Your fight is my fight,” Crosshair said, folding his arms. A charging reek couldn’t move him from this position. Maybe he wasn't a badass mercenary, and maybe he only had a ninety-two percent accuracy rate, and maybe this wasn’t a mess hall fight over stolen goggles, but Crosshair was here for Bane regardless. Loyalty was loyalty, and he wasn’t going to leave one of his own behind.

Bane’s brow ridge furrowed, but it didn’t seem like a frown. “You got some real bent loyalty, if you’re willin’ to defend a bastard like me, but…” he stood up and folded his arms thoughtfully. “...maybe we can make this a real teachin’ moment. How about it, kiddo? Wanna kill some bad guys?”

Crosshair couldn't remember a time he smiled this big. It wasn't close to a Wrecker-sized smile, but it was bright for a storm cloud like him.

“Hell yess,” he hissed, excitedly.

When Bane smiled it wasn't exactly made of sunshine, either but there was less snark to it than usual. "Atta boy. Now go get Todo. We got a lotta work to do."

#bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb #bad batch tech #star wars the clone wars #cad bane #crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #The First Toothpick

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huffle-dork · 1 year ago

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Swap into the Crystalverse: Prologue

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs | SwapInverted Crossover | SwitchSwap | AO3 link

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

Alt was in his room, tinkering with some scrap and his magic. He had an idea he wanted to try so badly… but he couldn’t quite figure out how to do it. He sighs in frustration and let’s the magic he’s using fade as he huffs and leans back. Glitches walked up next to his leg and purred, rubbing against it. Alt absentmindedly pet her- until he heard the tv is his room suddenly flick on.

He jumped, glitching to his feet as he saw exactly what he was fearing it would be. Tv static pulsing with purple and green magic, an after image of a spiral within its depths. He heard the laughter of the mad magician already in his head and he shouted out and covered his ears, turning away and shutting his eyes.

“No no no! Fuck you- fuck you! Leave me alone!” Alt hissed but the magic around him increased, white noise filling his brain, bringing more of the siren’s call.

“I don’t have time to play these games, kitten. I need you for something very important and I need you now.” Magnificent’s acidic voice clawed at Alt’s mind. Purple flashed in Alt’s eyes as he momentarily looks back towards the screen.

Then he screams and grabs his head tighter, “no!” He tried to do what Dr, J had been teaching them- nonsense- he needed to fill his mind with enough to throw off the pull! He tried to think of colors- of his friends- the last gaming session they had, the night at the pub him and Henny had last week! Anything- anything to-!

The static reached a fever pitch of awful noise that was impossible to ignore. Alt felt it in every bone, pulsing in his blood. “Oh no you don’t, Anti. I’m not dealing with your rebellion today. You will come to me now.” Alt made a choked noise as his body and mind are assaulted with nothing but noise and pain.

“I-I’m not your fucking puppet anymore…! Y-You can’t- you can’t make me…!” Alt tries to bite back but it’s so hard to think with all this noise- sending his heart beating wildly and making him panic which only makes it worse-! He can’t stand it! The static is swallowing him whole!

He’s forced to look back at the screen- and the noise dulls to a quiet roar as Alt feels his body go slack, and his mind go blank. Purple light fills his eyes.

Laughter. His master approved. “Finally. Now, Alt, no more thinking- no more fighting, no more games. Come to me.”

“…yes, Magnificent.” Alt mumbled in a daze, glitches starting to build up around him.

Then, his door burst open, Chase’s eyes frantic. “Alt I heard screams and Glitches crying and-!” He paled, “no-“

Alt’s eyes met Chase’s as his body started to turn into pixels. Chase used every ounce of his speed to reach out to Alt, not even thinking.

“No!”

They both disappear in a mixture of tv static and glitches.

When they start to come back together they’re in a dimly lit concrete cellar. The air smelled musty and old- the walls lined with boxes of what looked like ancient artifacts. But, Chase shuddered as he recognized the symbol on the boxes- the 3 irised eye of Sclera.

Chase felt Alt move away from him and he hurries to try to hold him back. As Chase looks out towards the other side of the room, his blood runs cold.

A familiar doorway stands just slightly away from the wall. One made of one type of a stone on one side, marked with runes. The other made of pure obsidian. It’s just like the one they saw in… that other world. The one with the inverted thems.

Magnificent is standing right in front of the archway, uncharacteristically stoic and serious as he gazes out at Chase with cold eyes.

“Fantastic,” He spits, baring his teeth like a feral cat. “Unhand my cub. This doesn’t involve you.”

“Like hell it does!” Chase shouts, trying to gather up the struggling glitch. Alt wasn’t immediately trying to glitch away, which was something. Chase can see the magic fighting in his eyes as he looked at the archway behind Mag. He recognized it too. “You stealing away my brother to do god knows what is very much involving me!”

“D-danger-“ Alt whispers dully, not looking away from the arch as purple fights against blue in his eyes. “D-d-dangerous-“

Magnificent laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t play dumb with me, hero. You know exactly what this is~! We’ve all dealt with it once before!” His eyes shine with madness as he throws out his hands, “a gate to the multiverse! You have no idea how long I’ve searched… how long I’ve yearned for this!”

He steps forward, static building up behind him- the noise making Alt shudder and the corruption in his eyes get stronger. He tries to shake his head, cowering against Chase. “Nonononono-“

“Sclera tried to hide it from me~ but finally… I’ve found it. But… I can’t activate it alone.” Magnificent’s eyes flash hungerily towards the trembling glitch. He shoots out a hand- and green strings shoot out and then wrap around Alt’s wrists and his neck. He’s pulled away from Chase and into Magnificent’s arms.

“No! Fucking! Mag!” Chase cries out, power pulsing in his eyes. “Have you learned nothing, you egomaniac?! Messing with the other universes- its never worked out for you and only puts the rest of us into shit!”

Magnificent’s eyes are ablaze with frantic, desperate anger, grabbing one of Alt’s arms and blasting a wave of dark magic into him. Alt screams and writhes as the magic sinks in, dark veins crawling up his skin. Then he slumps, eyes fully taken over by purple. “I will have it- I will finally be able to do it! To become the most powerful magician these feeble worlds have ever seen!”

“Alt! No!” Chase cries and desperately tries to reach out to grab them. Magnificent snarls and blasts out magic fire- hitting Chase full blast in the chest. The hero doubles over and crashes to his side, curled up in pain.

Magnificent drags Alt backwards with him like a robber holding a hostage, claws sunk into his arm. Alt can’t resist as he’s pulled. But as they approach the door- Alt’s body fizzles and snaps with glitches, parts of him trying to turn into pure pixels. He whispers in a very small voice, “n-no… d…d-d-danger-“

“Silence.” Magnificent snarls as he grips Alt’s chin and forces him to face forward. Magnificent uses his other hand to flare out a black magic flame and then sends it into the archway. The air feels electric and heavy as the feeling of something being very very wrong increases on all of them.

“Anti. All I need you to do now-“ Magnificent giggles darkly, whispering in the glitch’s ear like a temptress.

Chase is struggling, trying to reach out to grab them. “No! Stop…!”

“-is glitch.” Magnificent purrs. He digs his fingers into Alt’s skin and flares more of his magic into him, barking out, “NOW!”

So much happens at once-

In a burst of electricity and speed, Chase lashes out and just manages to grab Alt’s foot-

Alt’s back arches as the magic forces him to use his power, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. Then his body breaks apart into pixels with a sharp electric zing! Alt’s own chaotic magic rockets out- green blue electricity meeting with the black magic flames. The runes on the doorway flash and hum with energy, color filling in the shapes rapidly. The three of them are immediately caught in a bubble of magic, darkness and blue crackling energy rapidly caving in on them like a black hole.

Then, the magic rockets out in a burst of color and white light as the runes finish powering up, blasting apart boxes and antiques in a wave of power.

And in the center of the doorway, was only a circle of soot. Bro Fantastic, Alt Brody and Magnificent were nowhere to be found.

In their own universe, at least.

#readswapboys #swapboys #swap into the Crystalverse #alt anti #bro fantastic #swap magnificent #this whole part was all written by me HFGGH #I got way too into it but it was so fun to write! JVHBN

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sd-vtm · 3 months ago

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Oh no, not again.. she dropped another thing while cleaning!

This time is was one of Mrs Elliot’s Japanese tea cups..

She is quick to drop down to her knees and began to scoop up the glass into a small pile with a shake of both hands.

Great..

Mrs. Elliot is gonna have her head for sure for this one.. This was one of the maiden of the house’s favorite mug! Last week she dropped a vase while cleaning it too, so V knew she was on thin ice already as it was!

..I mean come on, how was she suppose to know it costed 5 thousand pound? Why would you spend so much on a piece of ceramic?! Least to say she recieved a good smack across the face for breaking that vase. The only reason she didn't get thrown in the cellar this time was cause Tessa stepped in and promised that it wouldn't happen again.

Yet now she was breaking that promise and its all her fault! This time she would take the punishment for it. Let it be her this time, and not mom Tessa. Things weren't very great in the Elliot Manor, the Master and Mistress of the house always seem to fight and smell of booze more as of late, and even Tessa seemed to be constantly looking over her shoulder.. V didn't truely understand why, but she knew the human girl was afraid sometimes. She often would sit outside her door with J, listening to the other cry herself to sleep.

J often looked angry too, and seemed to just get defensive when she tried to ask questions.. It had to be because of the harsh words constantly thrown her way, not being raised by parents who are suppose to love and nurture their children.. She remembers a few times having to clean the blood off her mother's face or apply antibacterial cream to the wounds on her wrists from the shackles her mother put on her when she got out of line.

V experienced it too, a smack here or a good shove if they made a mistake.

..But the worst touch of all was from Mr Elliot himself, which seem to happen the most. The little maid had lost count of when she felt his hands wander up her dress. However, it only happened when James had the manor to himself cause the wife was on business with Tessa, since the poor girl was often dragged along with her.

..She hated those weekends.

Cause it was when the human man acted stranger and would often request that she sit on his lap while he worked. She didn't like that alone time with him, his hands wondered, tugging and sliding up her dress to feel against her thigh or underwear. And he would often whisper very odd things to her.. The human always sounded so desperate, sellinf strong of booze during such moments. And most of the times these odd cuddling session would just just end with him crying into her shoulder, explaining his misery and woes within his marriage. ..That he wished he could take her to bed.

Whatever that means..

V often replayed those strange words often in her memory file; trying to figure out what he meant by that.. All she knew was that it made her feel really uncomfortable. Her metal felt like it had a slimey feeling to it after he touched her. And a small part of her thought maybe she deserved it. Considering she wouldn't have the guts to ever protest. The mug is quickly hidden under the china cabinet and she is quick to scurry away.

We need to stop thinking about it so much..but it was hard not too. Especially when she found herself crying when the thought got too loud..

#smacks this down and dies #molestation tw #child abuse tw #abuse tw #TIME FOR THE BIG SAD GUYS #I BLAME THAT ANON FOR GIVING ME ANGSTY ASS IDEAS #I am a shame gonna go flush my head in the toilet for this one #character studies || ☾ ain’t no dino rodeo!#ic || ☾ lil' robo bitchin'#text #drabbles || ☽♡☾

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julemmaes · 2 years ago

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prologue from a nessian fic I'll never write, enjoy:) fair warning I wrote this while listening to my tears ricochet the long pond studio session on repeat

Word count: ~1.3k

The silence was gripping her lungs in a tight vice and she couldn't get any air in. Panic was seizing her entire body as she tried not to turn around and bolt for the exit. It was taking her every ounce of will to stay put, let them stare—let them judge.

Nesta could feel their emotions, every single drop of hatred and confusion and disappointment. Feyre was looking at her with tears in her eyes, a hand on Rhysand's chair for support, and Elain had stopped serving Lucien, her casserole completely forgotten now. She didn't dare look at Morrigan, or Amren. She knew she wouldn't be able to endure the disgust surely directed at her.

She found the courage to shift her gaze to Azriel, to the one person she'd once trusted wholeheartedly, the best friend who had seen every facet of her heart and mind and had never judged her for it. The only one who Nesta had promised not to hurt. And the only one who had tried to reach out to her every year, in the desperate hope she would one day pick up the phone, reply to a text, come back home.

She had thought she was ready. Her therapist had deemed her current situation perfect to reunite with the family she had abandoned years prior. But now, after having walked in with the same set of keys her brother-in-law had given her, during their weekly family lunch, seemed like the worst course of action she'd ever followed.

Azriel had his eyes closed, his head turned towards the backyard, like he couldn't bear to look at her. Nesta could see his jaw taunt with restraint, his shoulders tense.

She had hurt him.

She deserved his silence.

She was about to open her mouth, thinking she at least owed to these people to start this conversation, when the loud, heavy steps of someone coming up the basement snatched her every thought.

Nesta would recognize his gait everywhere. She knew he was skipping two steps at a time. She knew he was gripping the handrail with his right hand and pulling himself up just for fun.

She knew he would willingly slam his shoulder against the door frame coming out of the cellar and stumble down the corridor to enter the living room with a weak jog.

A shit-eating grin would be plastered on his face and her heart would stop.

Even without a single sense, she would have been able to know it was him. They could take her hearing, her sight, her touch... she would know.

He...

"Found it!" He shouted, then the muffled grunt as he hit the door. A deep chuckle that ran cold through her veins and the hurried steps, and there he was.

He looked so different. And the same. He looked exactly like the man whose heart she'd broken all those years before.

"Jeez, Rhys-babe, this bitch was hidden behind a gazillion other bottles, I had to move mountains to get to it."

From her position near the entrance, he was giving his back to her. He was still oblivious to her presence when he lifted his head and stopped in his tracks at the sorrow and shock on the others' faces.

"What–"

Cassian turned then, noticing everyone was looking behind him, and he stopped breathing.

Nesta stopped breathing.

The bottle he was holding dropped to the floor with an ear piercing crack that made her wince. Nobody moved to clean the expanding puddle of red wine.

Her heart stopped beating, pumping blood, keeping her alive. She was dead. She was sure of it. She was no longer standing there, in front of her family. In front of the man who still had her very soul wrapped around his fingers, even after all this time.

The emotions swirling behind his eyes as his face transformed threatened to bring her to her knees. The utter rage and torment that she knew were storming his mind were enough to make tears sting her eyes, for her throat to swell.

His agony was excruciating. It was suffocating her.

She opened her mouth and only a trembling sigh came out. The only sorry excuse of a greeting her body was willing to grant her.

Cassian blinked, his hand still suspended between them and then he took a sharp breath in. He turned his head to the side, ground his teeth so hard she worried he might break some and looked back at her.

Their eyes clashed together, she felt—for the first time in almost six years—her soul soar, reaching out to touch his. It was like she could see it, the weak, shaking fingers of her essence holding out to his, begging for him to extend any part of him he could.

She needed him to say something. Anything. Put her out of her own misery. She needed him–

"Leave. Get out."

His eyes never left hers as he whispered those words. They sliced through her chest like a sword, every letter cutting deeper than the previous. She was bleeding out on the floor in front of him.

And she deserved every tickle of blood leaving her body in racking slowness. She was desperate for it. She needed the coup de grace to come from him.

She forced herself to stay still, but couldn't bring her chin to lift like she wanted to. Couldn't make her mouthtonguelips move to speak.

Cassian stepped forward suddenly and her chest heaved. They hadn't been so close in so long. So long since she'd last felt his heat like this.

"I said get the fuck out." He ground, a single, lone tear cutting down his cheek. He did nothing to hide it.

Nesta's chin trembled and she gave the slightest nod. She made to step back, her eyes fixed on his hurt face.

I'm sorry.

She let him see it, the apology in them. She begged him to read her like he used to their entire lives.

And he did. Nesta waited for him to do anything with it, tell her it meant nothing. He took her apology and tossed it right back at her face. It now laid on the floor, crumbled at their feet.

It hit her hard then, this had been a mistake. What was she thinking? Showing up uninvited to Feyre's and Rhysand's home, after what she'd done to them?

She cleared her throat and lost the battle, lowering her gaze to his chest. Her eyes narrowed on the tiny outline under his shirt, something that was attached to the necklace he was wearing, hiding right above his breastbone. That pendant, its shape–

Cassian moved brusquely to the side, putting more than two meters of distance between them.

She felt the cold embrace of loneliness sweep her again in its arms. It felt so familiar she didn't even question the throbbing in her chest.

She spared herself the looks of disgust from the rest of the people present and walked to the door, fighting all her instincts screaming at her to go back and implore for forgiveness. Beg for a few minutes of his time to explain.

The sound of a chair scraping on the tiles, followed by another. The shuffle of clothes and cutlery against plates.

"Nesta, wait."

She halted with her hand closed on the door handle.

Azriel.

Oh god how she'd missed him. His voice.

She had missed them all.

"Fuck, no," Cassian's voice came out so angry it startled her as she turned again toward the room. Now both Azriel and Rhysand were standing. Cassian was looking at them, his shoulder raising and falling with his effort to keep calm. When he spun in her direction, his eyes were red, rimmed with tears.

He shook his head, pointing to the door. He averted his gaze, he said, "I don't want you here. So leave. I don't care what Azriel wants to tell you."

"Cass," someone pleaded softly.

Elain. Oh, Elain.

Nesta kept her eyes fixed on Cassian's breaking figure.

"Leave. Please, Nesta, leave."

His voice cracked, her heart shattered.

Nesta tore the door open and slowly walked outside.

She was an empty shell of her persona yet again, hollowed out and bleeding to death on the cobblestone path of that house that had once been her only safe place.

acotar taglist (if you wanna be added or removed just send me an ask or dm me)

@my-fan-side @superspiritfestival @simpingfornestaarcheron @the-regal-warrior @princess-rumi-blog1 @live-the-fangirl-life @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @bookstantrash @lordof-bloodshed @nahthanks @sannelovesreading @courtofjurdan @imagine-me @moodymelanist @dread3r @sv0430 @mariamuses @leiawritesstories @thewayshedreamed @duskandstarlight @letstakethedawn @perseusannabeth

#nessian #angst #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #the angsty bitch is back

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