#this story is set so deep into a dozen different AUs that it might actually be impossible to write

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

After listening to @mrtobenamedlater talk about how much he hates Sarah Palmer, I felt an incredible urge grow within me to write a story.

In this story, Cadmon Lasky survives and was just cryofrozen by ONI in an effort to keep the Covenant secret. Tom and Chyler end up finding him with Sully's help, and when he gets frozen he decides to become an S-IV.

Eventually he meets another Spartan. She doesn't tell him what ship she's stationed on because of reasons. Anyway they fall for each other, but he's too afraid to tell his little brother (who is now old enough to be his dad) for fear of causing some sort of incident. When things finally do come to a head and he decides to introduce them, he sets up a meeting while they are all on shore leave on Earth at the same time.

Tom and Chyler walk up to the restaurant, eager to meet Cadmon's new lady love. When they get there, they see the commander of the Infinity's Spartan contingent, Sarah Palmer, standing outside looking like she's waiting for someone. They exchange their friendly greetings, finding it odd that she's there, until a cheerful voice calls out from behind them, "Tom, Chyler, Sarah! What, did you guys all catch a cab here together?" He walks up and confidently kisses Sarah on the cheek.

Tom and Sarah both go completely white. "Wait, you're..." Tom stutters. At the same moment Sarah is saying, "You mean he's your..."

Cadmon is confused. Chyler nearly falls over laughing. Tom and Sarah spend an evening not knowing whetehr they should laugh or cry. Everyone has a great time.

[wazzappp]

You write fanfics, right? Would you mind giving a newbie a few tips for writing their very first fanfiction ??? 🥺

FIRST OF ALL WOAH. IM HONORED YOU WOULD ASK ME FOR ADVICE AND SECOND OF ALL AKAKKFJGKHKHSKSGG I uhhhhh. Kind of????? Write?? I make plans and then I draw comics I'm actually trying to WRITE write something right now (key word being 'trying') but INEXPERIENCE ASIDE I guess I can try to tell you about some stuff I like to think about when planning a comic?

I like to start by knowing both where everyone is starting out and where everyone is going to end up. It's also helpful to know what everyone WANTS. I make sure to separate those two because they aren't necessarily the same thing. It's good to know both before you get to the details. If you don't know where you're going, you cant have fun getting there!

When I'm planning something out I like to start with the big parts as bullet points and then fill in the gaps. That way, if you realize one point doesn't flow into the other the right way, you can rearrange things before you're 5 hours deep and realize 3 hours worth of it doesn't work.

Try to think up multiple different ways a scene/situation could go! I replay something in my head a dozen times in a dozen different ways until I land on one I like. If you have something solid its totally cool to stick with it, but it's also fun to explore possibilities in your head before committing. That way you can pick out what the most impactful version is and go with that.

TALK!!! TO YOURSELF!!! FOR DIALOGUE!!! Find somewhere private where you wont be judged or interrupted and just go for it (my personal favorite is in the car on my drive to work but don't do that if you think it will get you into an accident lol). Try and get into each characters headspace and think about how it feels to say the things you're saying. Does it make you feel sick? Choked up? Tense? Notice it and think about how it will change their body language and how other people perceive them.

Know what your characters flaws are! Perfect people are BORING. Not to mention unrealistic. Also its really important for how people interact with each other! If someone is distrustful, judgemental, naive, defensive, blunt LITERALLY ANY CHARACTER FLAW it will play a role in how they deal with both people and problems.

Working on biographies + character designs (if you draw) for characters to make sure you understand them as well as possible is really helpful. I do it for almost all of my AU's that I make. But also I'm incredibly detail oriented so yk. Take that bit of advice with a grain of salt. I like picking my favorite little guys apart with a scalpel but if you find that demotivating don't worry about it too much.

If you're following along with a game or a movie, it's good to know ahead of time how closely you are sticking to the established story and universe. Keep track of any new rules you make. Working within a set of constraints helps to get both you and the character to think more creatively, and keeping those rules consistent makes the world feel more real. In a way, setting limits makes your world bigger!

Its also worth mentioning that I like to pay attention to what I enjoy reading when I'm figuring out a story. What pacing do you like? What level of description? Do you like things phrased more straightforwards or more poetic? I'm not suggesting you copy people of course. Just know what you like and try to apply it to yourself!

Damn that was way more than I thought I had to say lol. I'm going to also tag @moosemonstrous @rokhal @kermit-coded @cannibal-wings sin case they might have some tips to add because they are all absolutely exemplary in their craft (bring out the FANCY words today just for you) and I HIGHLY suggest looking at their works.

<3 Thanks for your ask!! I cant wait to see what you make!

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

Red Alert; an AU Guild Wars 2 Story

The Tideturners have lived in secrecy for decades, their operations hidden deep within the heart of the Mists. Rarely have they ever dared to reach out to the myriad of worlds that exist beyond their headquarters-- but things are changing. Time ticks away. The horizon draws closer. They cannot afford to hide away forever.

When the Commander was contacted by their head of security and offered a tentative alliance, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Why him? Why now? Who even are these masked strangers that all seem to know him so much better than he knows any of them? It was unsettling even back then, but now he knows exactly why.

Tick tock. Tick tock. It was a daring move, breaking into the Sidewinder's office to search for the answers, but the truth of this place is finally in his hands. If only it didn't leave him with so many more questions than answers. How can he possibly trust them now?

He has no idea how much his old adversaries feel the same.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

      The Sidewinder had always claimed that ASP’s security features shone crimson as a warning. Few had reason to doubt her claims; it made sense after all, didn’t it? Red was the color of blood. Danger. Risk. Injury. Who wouldn’t take it seriously? That was certainly how the Inquest used it, and the message never went questioned for long. To most, it was as logical an explanation as any– and there was no reason to ask any further after that.

     What else, after all, could the color red possibly mean?

     The Commander had almost forgotten, after all these years.

     Alarms blared, shrieking into the Turnabout’s main office from every direction. Every circuit flared with sharp, biting crimson, flickering along the wires and making the electric lighting overhead sputter and spark as if on the verge of a short. Power surged all around them– all from a source that he now knew all too well. How had he been such a fool?

      “Mai.” A single word left the asura’s lips. That was all he needed to say.

      The masked figure before him bowed her head. Acknowledgement, yet defiance remained as her shoulders rolled, the dangling chain links of her mechanical pauldrons rattling. He didn’t need to know what expression lay behind that disguise; he could already guess. Or, at least, he was pretty sure he could.

       “You know,” hummed a familiar electronic voice from a nearby speaker, “This really is no way to repay our generosity. Breaking into our humble workplace, after we so graciously invited you into our home? Tsk tsk. You really are a shameless little rat. Pity we didn’t set up any mousetraps for you.” Even laced with a heavy layer of static, he knew that voice well.

       “Don’t play coy with me. I know who you are, too.” The Commander’s voice was quivering. “The red energy signature, the morbid jokes, that pretentious attitude… Mai’s identity was just the last piece of the puzzle.” His eyes narrowed, jaw set as he glared into the closest camera. “You really had me going for a bit there, too. I almost believed you might be the real deal.” A twisted laugh echoed through the room, tinny as it reverberated from every intercom at once.

      He knew that laugh, too. He’d certainly heard it enough times.

      Red meant danger. Red meant fire and molten metal.

     But most of all, it also meant Scarlet Briar.

     “Come now, I would have thought the truth would be even more impressive! It’s not every day you meet a literal ghost in the machine, darling.” The Commander rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

     “Oh please. Every Inquest flunkie knows how to merge a living being with a golem, it’s not that impressive. I’ve encountered at least a dozen different biomechanical prototypes over the course of my career.” An annoyed ‘tch’ could be heard crackling through the speakers.

     “And how many of them were able to utilize that procedure to anchor a Fractalized echo, hm?” He had to admit, hearing her actually sound a bit irritated was a nice change of pace. “Or, say, give that spirit total control over a supercomputer hub and by extension, the entire facility it operates? None, I imagine. But you silly little asura do so love to think you’re the smartest ones in the room…”

     “Hm,” he remarked, unable to resist poking the bear one last time, “I think you just described yourself, actually.” A sharp pneumatic hiss rattled maintenance pipes in the ceiling, and he couldn’t quite tell if the technomancer’s invocation was hissing at him on purpose or had literally blown a gasket. He suspected it to be a bit of both.

      But the altercation was swiftly cut off as one boot thumped the floor impatiently. The Sidewinder didn’t look impressed; her tense body posture spoke louder than any words. The gleaming golden claws of one gauntlet were gripping a pistol at her hip, though she hadn’t yet drawn it. He studied her for a long moment, waiting. She made no move to approach.

     “Whatever you may think of me,” she growled finally through rattling hardware, “This doesn’t have to end in a fight. Surrender quietly and we can put this behind us.” The Commander fell silent.

     There was something in her voice that he hadn’t caught before. It was easy to miss behind the layers of electronic filtering, but… The more he focused on it, the more certain he was. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the revelation, something twisting unpleasantly in his gut. Suddenly he wondered if that mask was worn to disguise more than just her identity.

     … She was scared of him. The Sidewinder wasn’t shaking from anger, but fear.

     And in spite of all the poking and prodding, ASP still hadn’t made a single attempt to harm him. Neither of the two had, waiting for him to make the first move. They didn’t want to fight.

     The Commander wasn’t the type to back down from a scrap, no matter how impossible the odds. He’d taken on entire armies practically alone, slain massive heaps of raging dragon corruption, dismantled legions of mechanical horrors. He wasn’t afraid to use force if he had to– but that was just it, wasn’t it? He could feel his own hands shaking. This doesn’t have to end in a fight. The Mai he’d known rarely showed that kind of restraint. She only ever gave up when pushed into a corner, beaten down and hopeless.

     This woman was so broken she’d given up before the battle even began.

     There was no honor to be found in defeating someone like that. The mere thought of it just made him feel like a mean-spirited bully.

     A long, heavy sigh escaped the asura’s lips and, with no small amount of reluctance… He allowed his weapons to clatter to the floor. The Commander hoped he wasn’t going to regret that. For a long moment all was silent aside from the continuous blare of that alarm.

     “... Er..” To his amusement, the Sidewinder actually sounded a bit incredulous. “You’re.. Actually surrendering?” She straightened slowly, as if unsure what exactly she should be doing under these circumstances; this clearly wasn’t an outcome she’d actually expected. Even ASP seemed to be at a loss for words, her various jade tech artillery modules around the room slowly lowering in apparent confusion. Clearly the ‘AI’ wasn’t as much of a loose cannon as she liked to pretend.

     It wasn’t something he was used to doing either, but… This time, it felt like the right choice. The Commander nodded. “I am.” His former adversary only seemed to be even more perplexed, shifting her weight back and forth awkwardly before glancing pointedly at his dropped weapons.

     “... If I were to pass on what happened here, you'd be imprisoned at best, but most likely banished from the premises.” He could hear the inner conflict in the Sidewinder's tone. She paused for a long moment, head slightly lowered; only after seeing her nod a few times did he realize she was conducting a silent conversation with ASP. After a long, uncomfortable silence, she lifted one gauntlet and snapped her fingers.

     ASP’s alarms went silent as all the room's defenses retreated back into their hidden panels. All that remained of ASP's presence now were a few illuminated screens and the Sidewinder herself, her mask's red eyes watching the Commander in silent contemplation. He didn't interrupt, waiting patiently for her final verdict– only for the staring contest to finally break as she made a gruff ‘ahem’ into one gauntlet.

     “... Just put those away,” she ordered finally. “Gods know what sort of magical radiation you're packing. I'd rather not risk frying my hardware by handling them, but if anyone catches you armed then you're on your own.” He knows what she really means and won't say; if she confiscated his weapons they’d have to be logged. She's keeping him off the books. He gave her a nod of understanding and finally crouched to retrieve them, returning the weapons to his bag.

     “It really isn't an act, is it?” he inquired finally. “When I broke in here I assumed you were trying to pull a fast one on me, but…” Glancing to the cameras, he frowned. “You two really aren't planning anything are you?” The Sidewinder snorted quietly.

     “Oh you silly thing,” chuckled ASP with no small amount of amusement, “You really thought that, what, we lured you here as part of some nefarious trap? Come now, we both know I'm a more effective schemer than that.”

     “What she means to say,” clarified the Sidewinder with an exasperated shake of her head, “is that if we wanted to hurt you, leading you right into our base would be one hell of a stupid way to start.” One hand raised, resting on the side of her mask. Hesitation. “But… I get it. You don't trust us, and we don't trust you. Sooner or later something was going to have to give, and I know hiding so much didn't do us any favors. It’s time we talked… Face to face.”

     Click. The mask popped loose, electronics flickering out as it slid forward from the mechanical latches shifting underneath. When she drew it away, the sharp gaze that met the Commander's eyes told him everything.

      The woman staring back at him with weary eyes certainly was Mai Trin… But not as he'd ever seen her.

      She looked so tired and worn. Scars marked her jaw and vanished down into the collar of her coat, tracing old chemical burns that must have been excruciatingly painful. The wear of many years was written all over her features; he couldn't tell whether she was really that much older than the Mai he'd known, or if those creases had been carved by stress and pressure alone. This was the face of someone who'd been through the depths of hell and brought it back with her. There was no escape from the nightmares that lived on in her eyes.

     When he'd seen Mai drunken and rambling, abandoned by her crew with nothing left of her legacy except the barely coherent spirit of her former boss, he thought that was as damaged as the woman could possibly get. Maybe the Sidewinder was more stable, but he couldn't begin to imagine what could leave her with such a deeply haunted look. The Commander knew that look, though. He knew it very, very well.

      It was the same he saw whenever he looked in the mirror, thinking about all the things he could've done differently and all the lives he couldn't save.

      The Commander's gaze softened. Mai had wanted so desperately to be more than the horrors of her past. But in the end, no matter how far she ran, the darkness of her history always had a way of catching her up and dragging her down with it. He doubted this was what she'd had in mind, but it proved one thing he'd only ever been able to guess at before.

      … All she'd ever really needed was a chance to be someone better.

      “I shouldn't have ransacked your files,” he admitted, scratching behind one ear. “That was pretty reckless, even with my suspicions. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but… I apologize for misjudging you.” The Commander thought for a moment, brows furrowing. “Your version of Scarlet isn't exactly the industry standard either, is she?”

      “Well you certainly did find the rudest possible way to phrase that, now didn't you?” the invocation huffed. “But no, I suppose I'm not what you would consider a ‘standard’ echo of Scarlet Briar, as far as the Mists are concerned. Though I like to think that's a good thing.”

      “She died early,” the Sidewinder elaborated quietly. “Before the war even began. Her Alliance had barely even come together. Because of that she's a lot less… Corrupted. Turns out not having a dragon in her head does wonders for her sanity.”

     “See? As I said, it's a good thing.” Despite the revenant's somber tone, he could've sworn ASP sounded more chipper than ever. “I for one quite like being stable and well-adjusted. Isn't it nice when we aren't trying to kill each other?” In spite of himself, the Commander couldn't help a slight wry smile. He was starting to grasp her sense of humor a little bit more. For all her jokes, she was all bark and no bite.

      The last thing ASP wanted was to go back to square one.

      “Well, it's an improvement.” He maintained that smile. “At least now when you get an itchy trigger finger, you don't actually follow through on it.”

      “Exactly!” she cackled, apparently ecstatic that he was playing along. “See Mai, he gets it! These days I just traumatize nuisances with words instead of violence. It’s MUCH more efficient and I don't get confined to a toaster for maiming some incompetent clerk that doesn't know what an arcanomatrix cryotemperate modulator is.” The Sidewinder rubbed one hand over her face with the most drawn out exasperated sigh he'd ever heard. And that was quite a feat considering how many ridiculous questions had been asked of his poor college professors in class…

     “Please don't encourage her,” she groaned. “You're going to give me a hangover and I haven't even started drinking yet.” The Commander raised an eyebrow at her thoughtfully.

     “... ‘Yet?’ So I take it you haven’t kicked that habit?”

     “Try getting through a day with that menace rattling around in your skull and you'll understand.” ASP gasped in feign offense, but the theatrics were sign enough that she wasn't actually upset. He was starting to figure that out pretty quickly.

     … The two of them really were just joking around with him now weren't they? It was a surprisingly comforting revelation– not only that they trusted him enough to include him in their banter… But that he also felt good enough about it to join in naturally, too. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to work out okay in the end. Their casual snark actually reminded him of some of his friends from Dragon's Watch.

     “Fair enough,” he agreed, that smile still in place– even as ASP let out another offended gasp in turn. It was remarkable how quickly the tension had melted away now that they were actually being transparent with each other. Maybe that was all they’d really needed.

     A leap of faith, no matter what consequences it may entail.

     “Well, while you two were ganging up on me like the little traitors you are,” ASP bit back, “I’ve gone ahead and finished logging this security breach as a hardware malfunction in the official records. You’re welcome, you ungrateful drones.” He caught a faint ‘snrk’ from the Sidewinder.

     “Yes, thank you ASP.” With that, she made a swiping gesture in front of her with one gauntlet to summon a levitating holotablet, and then swiped and tapped a few more times before dismissing the display with a flick. “There, went ahead and cleared out my schedule for the day. I have a feeling this chat might take some time, Commander.” With that, she retrieved a stool from the edge of the room and placed it next to her desk, flopping into her own seat with a surprisingly casual air. He almost expected her to put her boots on the table, but apparently that level of disdain was strictly reserved for business meetings and politics.

     Understanding the prompt, he took a seat on the stool with a nod of agreement. “Then we’d better get started. I think we’ve got a lot to catch up on, Mai.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

     It was a bit haunting, she thought. The look on his face as she concluded her briefing felt so strange to her. Perhaps this Commander was full of surprises. And perhaps he wasn’t. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure whether his reaction was what she expected or not.

     Such keen sympathy wasn’t something she was accustomed to seeing on that face.

     But, for all his familiarity, the person wearing that face was much different from the one she’d known. And the Sidewinder had known that– of course she did– but had she been prepared for it? Not as well as she’d thought, it seemed. Even knowing the heart that beat within him was kind and warm, she still found herself waiting to find cold, bitter ice waiting in his eyes.

     This wasn’t her Commander. And she’d keep reminding herself of that until she believed it.

     “... I’m sorry,” he spoke finally. “It does explain a lot, though. And.. Strange as it is, I can relate.” The asura’s brows creased once more, studying her briefly before glancing at the red flickers that danced along a magitech display. “It seems like everyone around this place has a knack for defying expectations.” She caught the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, if for just a moment. But then it was gone– and he fixed his focused golden eyes on her once more, contemplative. “But… There’s one more thing I’d like to ask, if I may.” The Sidewinder felt her jaw clench ever-so-slightly, but she gave him a nod nonetheless.

    “Alright, ask away.” She had a bad feeling she already knew what his question would be.

    “... You never mentioned the Grand High Sovereign’s name.” She hated when she was right.

    “Trust me,” she answered quietly. “You’re better off not knowing.”

    But she could already see the answer in his eyes. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t telling him. She didn’t have to. He already knew. There was no hiding this truth from him, no matter how deeply she wished to. The guard rails were already off, and it was far too late to put them back on.

     Commander Ruju watched her silently with those tired, tired eyes, and she couldn’t help thinking how much different the two were. His expression was weary in a way that only the living could accomplish; there was a fire still burning deep within, smoldering under a layer of long-blackened ash. He kept it guarded carefully, but if you were to set your hand over the cinders, you would still sear your fingers on its concealed flame. Resolve like that had been tempered by a lifetime of strain, endlessly fighting against the flow of fate.

      The Ruju she’d known was empty and cold, forever seeking the darkness that would one day fill in where a living heart was meant to beat. There was nothing in his eyes, not even hate. That asura had felt more like a machine than a living being even before he replaced so much of his body with rigid, unfeeling metal. Now she wasn’t sure if he had a living heart at all.

      What had made him that way? The Sidewinder didn’t know, and likely never would.

      He lowered his eyes finally, one stubby claw starting to trace circles on the desk in front of him. “That’s why you chose me, isn’t it?” She couldn’t quite identify the emotion in his voice. Regret? Frustration? Resignation? All of the above? “I’m the only option you haven’t tried.” There was no blame in it, though. She almost wished that there was.

       “Lots of Commanders have tried,” the Sidewinder admitted. “None of them survived. You–”

       “I can do it.” Her heart sank, breath hitching sharply. “I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. I might be the only one who can.” The earnest fire that broke out in his voice– the fierce resolve. She knew that expression, and she was never, ever going to let this happen again.

       “Don’t.” He seemed almost taken aback by the firmness of her tone. “The last thing we need to do is to feed another corpse into that lunatic’s meat grinder.”

       “Your chances of survival are roughly 0.000001 percent, dear,” ASP chimed in coldly. “And that’s assuming you flee at the start of battle. Victory? That’s a hard 0. I’ve run the statistics. And believe you me, a supercomputer powered by an intellect like mine simply doesn’t make errors.”

       Commander Ruju paused at that, but she could tell he was thinking. Finally there was a light tap of his nail against the table once more. His resolve was unwavering, but she saw something else this time– a flash of cunning. Maybe he was most used to having immense brute force on his side, but… That wasn’t how he got his start. Before Ruju was a soldier, he was a scientist.

      “Then, how do we even the odds?” The Sidewinder could feel her invocation smile.

      “... That’s more like it. Now you’re thinking like a strategist, Commander.”

[minileena]

Hey what if I made an au for that zookeeper story that got me my girlfriend a year ago

Layna

Honestly, this dress might be a touch too garish.

Rebecca, my chauffeur for the evening, had assured me it was beautiful, and it covers up my goods underneath nicely, but I can't help but pull at the uncomfortable pit section as she takes me into the gala.

The ceiling opens up to become the sky, something that someone of my stature is accustomed to this far down below, but this time I'm alone in that feeling. Chandeliers that are, put generously, a little much hang from the ridiculously high ceiling, illuminating the ballroom in a golden glow. This clashes with the deep cerulean dress I was wearing, but I was never the one to have an eye for that kind of detail anyways. Rebecca was the one who picked the outfit, as well as her own, a simple black tux meant to look undistracting and draw all the attention to the pretty little jewel sitting on her shoulder.

Alright, we're in the gala. Take a deep breath. I can do this. Next step is just making conversation with the rich snobs. Easy.

I tuck the single stray lock of hair curled at my cheek behind my ear as Rebecca finds me a spot to slide in.

I find a cluster of socialites discussing current events and join in naturally. I hate small talk, but it's something I can turn on if I need to. Which I definitely do.

I notice another one of my kind in the cluster, a woman maybe a quarter inch taller than me on the shoulder of her own chauffeur. I wonder how she ended up with the amount of money she would need to be attending an event like this.

Probably a very, very different way than I plan to.

As I try to keep my eyes from glazing over, the conversation drones on. These types aren't the ones to be able to make actually charming small talk. At the very least, not to the level of interest of someone a tad more low status like myself.

Until one of them does.

I find myself genuinely chuckling at a comment one of the rich snobs make. My smile turns from amused to curious as I lock eyes with the only woman to genuinely get a positive reaction out of me.

She's... kind of stunning.

A lot of the people here are very attractive, at least in the hollywood sense, but this woman manages to stand out among the crowd. Her beauty is effortless, her hair a tad messy and curly and yet bouncing along with her gestures in such an enchanting way that she doesn't seem out of place among these perfectly groomed one-percenters.

The smile she gives me brings a touch of red to my cheeks.

Christ, Layna, focus. You're not here to flirt. You weren't even invited to this gala to begin with. This woman is not a part of your world.

And yet, she continues to catch my eye as the conversation continues.

Eventually I find a conversational out and excuse myself, Rebecca taking me off to a less traversed portion of the ballroom.

Her movements are effortlessly inconspicuous, taking us to what is honestly a fairly suspicious hallway that the help have been using, all while moving so naturally she doesn't draw a single eye. I briefly consider upping her cut from 15% to something like 18%.

...maybe 17.

This isn't just a gala, after all. It's an auction.

For a black diamond.

I've seen pictures. Jet black and yet with facets that catch the light as it turns. Its polish so pristine I'd be able to see my reflection in it.

And I fully plan to.

The largest black diamond ever found is just a touch shorter than me, and quite a bit heavier. I'd never manage to pick it up.

It's worth about 160 million dollars.

The one being auctioned today? Maybe the size of a few poker chips stacked atop one another. A few dozen grams, maybe a tad over a hundred.

This one, I can lift.

And 90 million may be a tad less than 150, but it'll still be the largest heist I've ever pulled.

Rebecca sets me down on a lip in the wall before pulling a handheld drill out of the pocket inside her jacket and opening the vents for me.

"Have fun making cover there?" She asks quietly as a screw falls to the floor.

"You know I always hate the small talk parts of these things," I reply, taking a seat and crossing my legs as she works.

"Really?" Rebecca prods. "'Cause you were blushing so much back there I could practically feel the heat coming off of you on my neck."

"You, uhm... noticed that..?" I ask, genuinely embarrassed. I'm supposed to be a professional, goddamn it.

"Didn’t know you were into the ladies," she comments with what I could only describe as an audible smirk. "And the tall ones, at that."

I try to stammer out a witty response, but nothing comes to mind. I'm prepped for manipulating the *socialites* into liking me, not my own crew.

"Eye on the prize, Layna," Rebecca chides. "You can swipe through tinder when we're millionaires if it'll make you feel better."

With that, the vent falls into Rebecca's grip. I slide into her palm and let her set me down in the vents, stripping my dress off on my descent.

When I said this dress covers the goods, I didn't mean my curves--lord knows I'm a tad lacking in the breasts and butt department. No, I was referring to what was essentially a grappling hook.

Such a device is nigh impossible to make for those blessed with stature, but at 13 grams, I have a lot more options for repelling up and down vent shafts. A fridge magnet can hold me up. Rig that up to some string and a spring loaded launcher and you've got yourself a magnetized grappling hook.

"Those cameras had better be playing on loop by now, Becc," I say as I shoot my anchor into the ceiling of the vent and prep my harness.

"They're about to... huh," Rebecca says.

"Do NOT tell me something's wrong," I say, tension in my gaze as I watch her tap away at her phone.

"I... guess I already did it," she says. "I was testing earlier to make sure there weren’t any software updates that fucked with my overlay, must've forgotten to turn it off?"

"This is the sloppiness that's gonna get me caught," I warn.

"It's fine, no one's noticed," she assures. "It's a still feed of a diamond sitting in an otherwise empty safe. There's not much to notice by way of fake overlays. Basically a still image."

...maybe I'll stick with 15%.

"Do not keep me in the dark," I demand as I prepare for my trek. "Let me know and pull me out as soon as you see anything awry. No more sloppy mistakes tonight."

"Yes, boss," Becca says in a tone edging on sarcastic. "Good to go. Grab it, get out, meet me at rendezvous."

"See you soon," I offer with a smile before shooting down the shaft.

My path is anything but straightforward. I had studied the map, but I did nearly take a few wrong turns on my way to the vault. It takes a bit longer than expected to find the exposed grate in the ceiling of the room that holds my prize.

In a feat of what I would not-so-humbly describe as a prime example of genius engineering, I had fashioned what was basically a miniature soldering gun. I pull out a metal hook I had managed to covertly slide beside my thigh and hide under my dress before the gala. A quick turn of the wrist has the hook around a slat in the grate, and my soldering iron fastens the other end of the hook to the wall, creating what is essentially a hinge. A second hook on the other side of the same wall, and it's stable.

Now for the tricky part.

Behind my back is a drill, much like the one Rebecca had used earlier. A handle leads to the perpendicular drill bit at the end; sort of like a hockey stick, except the paddle-thing at the end is a motorized screwdriver. It's much smaller than Becca's, with a much weaker battery to compensate.

I'll be cutting it tight on power.

I grip the handle and slide the drill bit through a slat in the vent before holding it out under where I assume the first screw was. A bit of feeling around has the bit pressed snugly into the out-of-sight screw.

I press the button and start unscrewing.

It all goes pretty smoothly, all things considered. I can hear the drill slowing down near the final screw, but it manages to eke it out before dying on me. Whatever. I won't need it anymore.

The vent falls out from under me, swinging to the side on the hinge I had created without clattering to the ground with a noise that the guards would've surely heard. I hang from my grapple, fastened securely against the ceiling above me.

My prize awaits below.

I repel down and watch the pitch black surface inch closer. I see my reflection in the top face, growing larger.

I land atop it.

It's smooth, like ice from a pond in a valley that doesn't ever experience the wind rippling its flawless surface. I run my finger across it.

It will be mine soon.

I start tying the diamond up, fastening it to my harness. I should still have a few minutes before the guards bring it in for the auct--

The vault door swings open.

Part 1 of... uhh... maybe 4? Probably 4.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter one: you like milkshakes?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.3K

notes: confession, i am struggling these days with my insane attraction to min yoongi.  this guy has it all.  looks and talent and mystery and sweetness -- he’s the total package. so i really wanted to give him a story in this AU that i’ve come to love so much and i truly hope you guys enjoy it.  

i also hope you guys know how much i appreciate every single one of you. i see your reblogs and comments and likes and i try to answer every one because it truly makes my day.  you guys make my day.

i could not post this fic without shouting out the amazing @hobi-gif because honestly, if hope didn’t read it, did i even write it? and i’m sending major love to three people who are such a source of laughter and support for me, @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna @taetaewonderland. you guys keep me in stitches.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece! Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

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

Yoongi had fucked up.

He’d misread the massive man’s approach, tracking him in one direction when the guy was actually headed in another.  That’s how the asshole managed to catch Yoongi off guard with one meaty fist to the face. 

It didn’t matter that it was hundreds of pounds of fat -- not muscle -- behind that punch.  It was wielding more than enough momentum to blow up the side of Yoongi’s face like a bomb. 

That’s the night he landed in the ER at Songdo at nearly two in the morning, pressing gauze to his bleeding face.  

That’s the night he found himself chuckling inside an empty exam room, reading triage paperwork that made him sound like some kind of war hero instead of just an idiot who got caught looking the wrong way.

That’s the night he met you.

“Rough evening, Mister Yun?” 

Yoongi had looked up from the floor just as you’d breezed into the room, tablet in hand.  That moment marked the second time he’d been caught off guard that night.

“That looks like it hurts,” you’d murmured sympathetically, eyes raking over the bloody mess on his face.  Your gaze was clinical -- professional -- as you assessed his grossly swollen eye and the half dozen bleeding cuts that surrounded it.  

But then you’d stopped looking at him -- and stepped back to really look at him.  

Yoongi had taken one look at your enormous, dark eyes and your soft, sweet face and he was dumbstruck.  He’d blinked back at you with the only eye that could still move.  

“You’re a doctor?”

“Nope,” you’d replied casually, turning to reach for a pair of latex gloves. “I’m a janitor. But I’ve always wanted to give this medicine thing a try. You don’t mind, right?”  

Your eyes had sparkled then, bright with humor -- and Yoongi couldn’t help but grin despite the pain pulsing from the left side of his face.

“Here’s the deal, Mister Yun,” you’d said, pulling on your gloves.  “I’m a resident.  And I’m more than qualified to handle the -- situation -- on your face, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for the attending, I’m happy to step back.  Good luck seeing him before sunrise, though.”

“Nah,” Yoongi had chuckled.  “I think I’ll take my chances with you.”

“Good call.”

You’d leaned in close after that, gloved fingers firm under his chin as you turned his face from side to side.  You’d smelled fucking amazing.  The light, fresh scent that lingered on your skin sure as hell beat the disinfectant odor in this place.

“What happened to you tonight, Mister Yun?”

“It’s a funny story, actually.”

“Oh, great,” you’d said dryly.  “‘Cause it turns out, I love funny stories.”

Yoongi had flinched when you’d peeled the gauze back, exposing the angry wounds to the air.  But he’d forced himself to sit dutifully still as you got to work cleaning the caked blood off his face and eye.

“Thing is, I work for the circus,” he’d started, hissing under his breath when you swiped across an open cut above his eye.  “One of the elephants got rowdy while we were practicing a number tonight and just kicked me right in the face.”

You’d stopped dabbing at his eye then, one brow raised and a cynical slant to your mouth.

Yoongi liked that you knew he was full of shit right away. 

He liked that you’d played along anyway.

“God, I hate when that happens,” you’d said with feigned outrage, cutting your eyes at him as you dropped a piece of bloody gauze on the tray at his side.  

“I know, right?”

That’s when Yoongi had won a real smile from you, wide and genuine.  That's when Yoongi made the mistake of looking at you for just a moment too long.  

He knew it by the way your smile fell away as you cleared your throat and turned your focus back to his damaged face.

“Well, I have good news for you Mister Yun,” you’d said after a while, eyes scanning the freshly cleaned wounds.  You’d run your gloved fingers gently over one particularly deep slash over his eye and Yoongi felt a shudder run up his back.  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to live.”

“Well, that is good news.”

There was that smile again.  

It seemed like no time at all before you had him all patched up -- cuts sanitized and sealed with skin adhesive; swollen eye cleaned and medicated.  Yoongi had felt a strange kind of disappointment as he’d watched you gather your supplies, pull your gloves off and drop them in the trash can near the door.

“You’re all set, Mister Yun,” you’d murmured. “Watch out for those elephants, okay? I’d hate for them to ruin a perfectly nice face.”

Then you were gone.

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

Thing is -- Kim Namjoon is a rules guy.

It doesn’t matter that he runs a criminal organization -- or that the men in his employ are gangsters in custom ties and suits.  He expects dirty work done clean because that’s what sets the Gajog apart.

Rotate hospitals.  Use fake names.  Pay in cash.

All of those protocols are in place to keep any one of the Gajog from drawing unwanted attention.  Truthfully, Namjoon’s operations usually run so neatly his men rarely have to seek treatment for anything beyond the occasional black eye or broken bone.  That’s why he’d rather trust his men to legitimate doctors in legitimate hospitals than hand them over to some back-alley hack.

Thing is -- shit has gotten a lot more heated of late.  

An audit of the Gajog books has turned up millions in missing won, stolen over time by street-level guys all over the city.  Yoongi and Hoseok are the ones on the front lines, tasked with confronting those men -- getting them to pay and getting them back in line.

Sometimes they play ball.  Sometimes they don’t.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Yoongi knew the moment they arrived at the crumbling warehouse in the Nowon district that shit was probably going to get messy.  Their contact was fucked up -- sloppy drunk -- and belligerent from the jump.

After that, everything was a blur.

At some point during the scuffle, Yoongi heard his hand crunch under the heavy weight of the man’s steel-toed boot. The pain was still flaring hot from his knuckles when Hoseok finally took the guy down.  

Right now Yoongi should be at Asan or Gachon or any of the other half-dozen hospitals in the city.  He should have dragged his tired ass and bloody hand across town because those are the rules.

But instead -- for the second time in a month -- he’s sitting under the sickly fluorescent lights in an empty exam room at Songdo at nearly three in the morning.

Hoping to see you. 

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

Yoongi is gingerly flexing his aching fingers when a light knock sounds at the door.

It was a long shot that you’d be here tonight -- and an even longer shot that you’d be the one treating him. But when the door to the exam room opens, it’s you on the other side.

Yoongi’s pulse picks up in response.

“Sorry to keep you waiting tonight Mister -- ”  you stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide on his before darting back down the tablet in your hand.  You scan the screen slowly then look back up, gaze critical.

“ -- Mister Woo.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi replies casually.  “It’s no problem.”

You approach him slowly then, disbelief etched into your delicate features and Yoongi takes in every detail.

It’s like he’d forgotten how pretty you are since the last time he saw you.

You’re nothing like the flashy women who like to hang around the usual Gajog haunts.  You’re the kind of pretty that doesn’t cost hundreds of thousands of won a month to maintain.  The kind of pretty that doesn’t come off at the end of the night. 

Yoongi swallows thickly as you eye him, lips parted like you’re about to fire off a hundred different questions.  But you don’t.  

You play along.  

Again.

“Right.  Let’s get to it then, Mister Woo,” you say carefully, slipping on your gloves.  “What happened to your hand?”

“Well, you see, I’m a hot air balloon operator.”  

His mouth quirks into a smile and your eyes flash in response.  

“Wind was nuts today and the basket came down on my hand.  I think I might have broken something.”

“Hmm,” you murmur.  “Hot air balloon operator, huh?”

Yoongi winces when you take his hand between your gloved ones, gently applying pressure to each knuckle.

“Yeah.”

“That’s an interesting way to make a living, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi chokes down a groan when you press against one particularly sore spot.  You back off the pressure, turning to make a note on your chart.

“Well, I’m an interesting guy,” he whispers.  

You look up at him then, dark eyes focused and intense.  

“That you are.”

You’re looking at Yoongi like you can see inside him and the scrutiny makes him squirm.  He lowers his eyes to the floor and keeps quiet while you clean his hand and apply ointment to his cuts.

“Mister Woo, it looks like most of these are surface abrasions, but the knuckles concern me.  I’m going to have to send you for an X-ray.”

“Yeah, okay.  It hurts like hell.”

“I bet it does,” you say quietly, typing into your tablet.  “Someone is going to come and take you back when they’re ready.  I have to go check on some other patients, but I’ll be back when we have some images to go over.”

“Sure,” Yoongi breathes.

You take another long look at him before standing to leave and Yoongi wonders for a moment if he’s made a mistake. Maybe he’s misread you like he misread that brawler who caught him with the nasty punch all those weeks ago.  

You could be off to flag a security guard.  Or leaving to call the police.

He really should have just followed protocol.

Yoongi sits in the quiet of that exam room waiting -- ready -- for trouble that never comes.  Because when a knock finally sounds at the door, it’s not the Korean National Police.  

It’s the X-ray technician.

Maybe he didn’t misread you after all.

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

It takes hours for you to come back.

“Mixed news tonight, Mister Woo,” you say upon your return.  “You have hairline fractures in three of your knuckles, which explains the pain.  Unfortunately, that means I’m not going to be able to do much for you beyond wrapping your hand.”

Yoongi nods.  “Got it.”

“And you should probably lay off the ballooning for a while,” you say under your breath as you lay out your bandages.  “Just a suggestion.”

“Good idea,” Yoongi chuckles.  “Safety first.”

You fix him with another one of those long, indecipherable looks before getting to work on his hand.  But you don’t say anything and the longer the silence stretches on, the antsier Yoongi feels.

“So…” he exhales, clearing his throat, “... you like milkshakes?”

“Everyone likes milkshakes,” you return evenly.  You don’t take your eyes off his hand or the flexible material you’re carefully wrapping around his sore knuckles. 

“Lactose intolerant people don’t like milkshakes.”

“Lactose intolerant people like milkshakes as much as the rest of us,” you argue.  “They just can’t tolerate them.”

“What are you, some kind of doctor?”

Your lips quirk with the threat of a laugh you manage to suppress but Yoongi catches the expression before it disappears.  You seem to relax after that.  He does, too.

“Dijeoteu has the best milkshakes in the city.  Ever been there?”

“Can’t say that I have,” you admit, taping off a bandage.  

“It’s not far from here.  Open twenty-four hours.  I hang out there sometimes.”

“So you’re a milkshake-drinking hot-air balloon enthusiast,” you murmur, inspecting your handiwork closely.  “Anything else I should know about you, Mister Woo?’

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Not really.  That about covers it.”

You hum thoughtfully under your breath as you finish wrapping the bruised knuckles.

“All done.  How does it feel?”

“Better,” Yoongi admits.  “Thanks.”

You gaze at him then, thoughtful -- expression soft with something that looks almost like concern.  Yoongi drops his gaze down to his bandaged hand.

This is the part where you’ve finished -- the part where you leave.  

This is the part where he should say something to you but he has no idea what or how.

“I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate,” you announce, voice breaking clear through his stupor.

You turn back to him just as you’re walking towards the door, and for a moment Yoongi thinks you’re going to give in and ask him any one of the dozens of questions that must be swirling around your mind.

But you don’t.

“Try to take care of that hand, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi nods.

“Thanks, Doc.”

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

YOU

Doctor Lee is on his Houdini shit tonight, apparently.

The ER is packed -- waiting room crowded with crabby patients -- and you are, once again, running yourself ragged to get to every last one.  Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.

“Page him again,” you call out as you pass the charge nurse outside an exam room.  

A quick scan of your tablet confirms the toddler behind this magic door has been vomiting all night.  You shut your eyes and wish a slow, violent death on your absent attending.  Vomit is the single worst phenomenon in medicine.

“I’ve paged him three times,” Nurse Ko calls back.

“Page him again,” you repeat, forcing a smile and pushing into the room.

Thirty minutes and one change of scrubs later you are checking charts on the next patient in line.  You pat the pocket of your new scrubs and realize you’ve left a half-eaten energy bar around here somewhere.  

No chance you’ll get that back.

Lee picks this moment to reappear, back from doing God knows what.  He strolls down the hallway like a man with nothing on his to-do list.

“You paged for me?” he inquires casually.

“A few times, actually,” you mutter.  “I’m getting killed out here.”

“Relax,” Lee purrs, condescension dripping from his tone.  “We’ll get it done.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from firing back the half-dozen nasty responses that spring to mind. There is no we when it comes to Doctor Lee.  He’s always been flighty and inconsistent, but these days he’s practically a missing person.  You’re still not sure how hospital management hasn’t figured out that he’s making his resident run the overnight ER.

“There’s a guy down the hall who says he swallowed a magnet,” you say, waving a hand in that direction.  “If you can pick him up I can get to this head trauma.”

Lee sighs like it’s a major inconvenience that you’ve asked him to do his job.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it.”

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

It’s nearly four in the morning by the time you have a chance to catch your breath.

You walk out to scan the waiting area and to your relief, there are only a handful of patients yet to be seen.  Then your eyes land on one young man -- slumped into a chair in an oversized coat, hat pulled low over his eyes.

You freeze.  

The man in the chair must feel your stare from across the room because he straightens, giving you a better look at the face hidden under the brim of his hat.  You let go of a breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding.

It’s not him.  

It’s not the mysterious man with the fake names and the bogus stories and the insanely handsome face. You shake your head as you look back down at your tablet, silently chastising yourself for even entertaining the thought.  

You shouldn’t still be thinking about this guy and you know it.

But it’s driving you nuts that you can’t figure him out.

He’s never tried to play you for pills and that seems to be the only thing people lie about these days. But if his problem isn’t drugs it’s certainly something because no one lands in the hospital that many times, with that many phoney stories unless they’re up to no good.

So you ignore the nonsensical disappointment you feel when the guy in that chair is not the guy. 

Because deep down you know he’s either in trouble -- or he is trouble.

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

Your pager goes off for a second time and you silence the alert, tossing it onto a nearby blanket.

It’s not like you’re hiding out in here -- not really. 

It’s just that you’ve already had one patient cough up blood on your sneakers and another swing at you when you refused to give him narcotics, so this night is off to a spectacularly bad start.

Besides, Doctor Lee could use a taste of his own medicine.  

This week has been the worst, by far.  You’ve been seeing at least three patients to his every one and you’re exhausted.  If there’s any justice, he’s walking into the exam room where the infant with explosive diarrhea is waiting to be seen -- you check your watch -- right about now.

The door to the linen closet cracks open and you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“What, you thought I didn’t know about your little hiding place?”  Nurse Ko asks with a grin.  “I find everyone’s hiding place, eventually.”

“Haven’t found Lee’s yet,” you gripe. 

“Yeah, well he’s sneakier,” she laughs.  “Here, I brought you something.”  

She tosses a granola bar at you and it lands in your lap.  

“Thanks,” you sigh, ripping it open.  You take a bite and Ko leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t page you for my health, you know.”

“I know,” you whine around a mouthful of dried oats.  “I just needed five minutes.”

“Well, I’ve got a guy out here who says he’ll only see you.  Doesn’t want Doctor Lee and says he’ll wait as long as it takes.”

A piece of the granola bar lodges in your throat and you cough around it, spluttering while Ko looks on, amused.  She waits for you to collect yourself.

“Is he -- ”

“ -- hot? Yes. Very,” Ko smiles.  

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment at both the observation and the fact that it’s coming from a woman in her sixties.

“I was going to say young,” you grumble, standing and dusting your hands off with a towel.

“That, too.  Come to think of it, I know I’ve seen him here before.  You have some kind of admirer, jagiya?”

You flush.

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

“Good evening, Mister Kim.”

You hope the air of nonchalance you affect when you enter the exam room is enough to mask your jitters.  

Your mystery patient looks back at you with those dark eyes and a half-smirk that makes your heart trip in your chest.  You take a steadying breath as you look down at your tablet.

Get it together, girl.

“What brings you in tonight?” you inquire lightly.  “Sword-swallowing accident?  Lose a fist fight with a bear?”

Your mysterious patient chuckles under his breath.  

“Where would you get a couple of outlandish ideas like that, Doc?”

You look up at him just as the teasing smirk on his face becomes a full smile and heat blooms in your chest and face.  You force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“I dislocated my shoulder.  Did you know I work air traffic control at Incheon?”

You shake your head with amused weariness as you make notes on your tablet.

“Crazy night.  One of the planes nearly slid off the runway and I threw my shoulder out trying to get it back on track.”

“Did you save it?”

“Saved it and all 227 people on board.”

“Bravo, Mister Kim.” 

“Just doing my job,” he shrugs.  

You set your tablet down on the exam table with a thump, eyeing him as you reach for a pair of gloves.

“The charge nurse says you asked for me.”

“I did,” he admits.  “You never told me what your favorite kind of milkshake is.”

You cock your head to the side as you look at him.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mister Kim,” you murmur, feigning ignorance. “According to my records this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.”

“Oh, yeah.  Right,” he chuckles.  

“You need some help getting undressed?”

“Yeah,” he admits, slipping one arm out of his leather jacket.  You lean in to help him pull the other side off, compelling yourself to ignore the way he smells like soap and sweat and man when you’re this close.

“It’s strawberry.”

You blurt the words out, anxious to give your brain a task that doesn’t involve analyzing this man’s smell.  Something about the mischievous twist to his mouth tells you he knows you’re flustered by his nearness.  

“I would have guessed chocolate,” he muses, reaching one hand down to grab the hem of his shirt. He drags it up his abdomen and you will your eyes to stay on his face -- refusing to give him any indication that you have more than a clinical interest in what lies underneath.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” you argue, taking over when he can’t get the shirt up any higher.  You push it over his head and carefully work it off his shoulder.  “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”

“Mission accomplished, Doc.”

He gazes at you then -- chest bare and eyes sharp beneath those inky lashes --  and you feel a bolt of awareness run the length of your spine. You pray the heat you suddenly feel all over your body is not manifesting in damning spots of color on your face.  

You remind yourself to get back to work. 

He sucks a breath between his teeth when you press gently against the inflamed muscle and tissue.

“My shoulder’s been shit for years,” he confesses.  “I screwed it up when I was a kid and it hasn’t been the same since.”

“So this happens to you from time to time?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then I’m going to have to refer you for an MRI,” you say, and he groans when you press into his shoulder again.  “There could be a lot of scar tissue in here, but I won’t be able to know what’s going on until we get some clear scans.”

Your eyes flick back to his.  

Every word that’s ever come out of this man’s mouth is a lie -- but there’s something that feels honest about the way he’s looking at you right now.  Something that makes you feel seasick, unsteady.

“Turn to the side for me,” you say quietly, and the thin paper that lines the exam table rustles as he complies.  The relief you feel when he pivots away from you with those eyes and that look is whole-bodied.  

“For now, the best I can do is probably pop -- “

Your words trail off as your eyes lock on a wound that sits just a few inches from his spine, just above the line of his jeans.  The edges are white and soft with age -- the area long-healed -- but the trauma is unmistakable.  

Textbook.  

The anger you feel as you stare at the wound doesn’t make any sense.  

But you feel it anyway.

“Is it still inside of you, or did they pull it out?”

“What -- ”

“-- The bullet Mister Kim,” you interrupt sharply.  “If it’s still in you, I promise it will come out the second they load you into an MRI machine.  The hard way.”

The muscles of his back flex as he stiffens.  Tension bleeds into the lines of his body and into his voice when he finally speaks.

“It’s out.”

Neither of you says another word.

The room feels hollow now, painfully quiet without talk of elephants or hot air balloons or milkshakes.  The two of you work together silently to crack his abused shoulder back into place.  Somehow he manages to endure that pain without making a sound.

In the end, it’s you that has to speak first.

“That should hold you for now,” you say tightly, standing to toss your gloves in the trash.   You grab your tablet to make notes.

“You mad at me, Doc?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter, fingers flying over your screen.  “I don’t even know you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re mad at me?”

You tear your eyes away from the screen to find his.  

There’s no teasing or humor there anymore.  He looks boyish and unsure like this, peering back at you with somber eyes from beneath long black bangs that have fallen into his face.

“No more stories, no more bullshit.  Tell me who you are.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can think better of them -- before you can consider how stupid it is to interrogate a complete stranger with a now confirmed history of violence.  Before you can consider that you have no right to the anger that now streaks white-hot through your veins.

“I can’t,” he breathes quietly.  “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head in disgust.

“Are you dangerous?”

Before he even speaks, you get your answer.  You get it in the way color erupts across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.  The way he looks away from you and down to his hands.

“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he whispers.

“I’m asking you,” you fire back.

He doesn’t answer.

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for him to say something in his defense. Waiting for him to pull another gag and tell just one more ridiculous story.  But the seconds tick by and he says nothing.

“A nurse is going to come by with a sling. She’ll help you get dressed, too,” you say tightly, walking to the door.

You don’t know why your heart feels like it seizes in your chest when you turn to give him one more look.

“Take care of yourself, Mister Kim,” you say quietly.  “And don’t come back.”

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

Glossary:

Dijeoteu: dessert

Jagiya: sweetie, sweetheart

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

Tag List!

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[trippin-over-my-fandoms]

I’ve seen this done before but here are my modern!rdr2 social media headcanons for the Van der Linde gang.

some of these are LONG and then some are shorter. doesn’t mean I love any of them any less however. I just did my best with all of them. 

* I treat the gang as family especially for my modern au 

Dutch

frequently uses Facebook and has dozens of friends he doesn’t even know. like if he gets a friend request he’ll accept it. John tells him he might as well just make his page public and Arthur pleads with him to make a facebook PAGE so that his random friends will stop liking posts that Arthur tags Dutch in. 

Dutch has no idea how to make a facebook page. 

he also has a Twitter and a massive following at that. He’s VERIFIED. 

all of his twitter posts are vague though

are they a joke? are they political? is it what he’s eating for lunch that day? literally no one knows.

Hosea

also has facebook but doesn’t use it because why does he need to look at pictures of events he was at. he only uses it to see things he didn’t partake in

also has snapchat but just to keep up with the kids 

because life360 was too much to deal with for everyone

and snapchat is cool

also he can and will spam you with bitmojis 

Arthur

used to use facebook a lot but stopped because he was tired of his posts getting likes from people he didn’t know and friend requests from people Dutch was friends with. 

plEASE

he has a private facebook for a reason, he doesn’t want other people to know his business. 

he also has an instagram but anything he posts on facebook also goes on there. it’s not aesthetic or pretty or anything and he doesn’t even caption over half his pictures. 

he literally only uses social media so that his friends and family know he’s alive

has snapchat because of Hosea but barely knows how to use it 

doesn’t get why everyone wants to use snapchat when teXTING AND CALLING ARE RIGHT THERE

John

the question is what doesn’t he have.

john has been trying to make it big on social media since youtube came out.

his youtube used to have videos on it but he deleted them because they were cringy and arthur liked to send them to the group text. 

plays twitch games on the weekends and sometimes with Jack but he thinks most of the subscribers are there for his kid since most of his solo streams don’t do as well

has a twitter, doesn’t follow Dutch, literally envies that he’s verified. 

he’s tried everything but no matter what he does nothing pans out

uses tiktok to promote twitch streams

instagram feed is mostly selfies of him but 99.9% of the time he’s wearing sunglasses and the caption is some random quote 

also has facebook but only to appease Arthur and Dutch, he doesn’t even have a profile picture. Claims only boomers use it. 

an avid reddit user. if he’s got problems he’ll go to reddit. claims reddit saved his life. everyone’s tired of the story so they stopped asking. 

also uses snapchat more than he should and the only social platform he has more than 100 followers on. 

Charles

same as arthur and has both facebook and instagram and posts the same on both except his are pleasing to look at. 

they’re unintentionally aesthetic 

he uses a psd on all his pictures and won’t share what it is

has monthly life updates that start with some inspirational or deep quote and then text that pushes the instagram word limit

also has a deviantart , has shared psds there before , constantly tries to convince Arthur to get it. 

used to use tumblr but he forgot about it

Abigail

the definition of a facebook mom. 80% of her facebook posts are about Jack or parenting. 

Instagram is similar but also different, she’s actually a relatively successful influencer with over 1,000 followers. 

all of her friends and family (who have instagram) follow her

has snapchat solely for the cute bitmojis and to send John adorable snaps of Jack playing with all the fun filters. 

she also won’t take a selfie unless it’s with snapchat because she no longer trusts her own camera. 

also uses pinterest and has a collaborative board with all the ladies. 

but in general, on her own, she has too many boards. she uses pinterest for EVERYTHING 

Sadie

bold of you to assume she uses social media. 

she does just not a whole lot. 

checks it once in the morning and once at night. 

except pinterest because how dare Abigail get her into it. but even pinterest she only uses in downtime. 

has facebook and instagram but there’s maybe only five posts.

if anything she’ll post on her story

will only snap Abigail and Arthur otherwise she doesn’t use snapchat

all of the social apps are mostly offloaded on her phone anyways

if she needs to know anything she just checks the group text which she has on do not disturb because they text way too much. 

Molly

she’s verified on instagram 

it’s also the only social platform she’ll use, which frustrates Dutch because he wants to be friends with her on facebook

but she’s happy with just instagram 

she keeps it simple 

and the main theme to her posts are fun outfits in her ever expanding closet

the other posts are usually of plants that she’s managed to grow. she’s not the best at being a plant mom but she’s still a good one to the ones she’s managed to keep alive. 

the only thing she contributes to the pinterest board are her own pictures of her plants which are overly aesthetic. 

Karen

started out with a normal instagram account then made a spam account which she ended up using way more often.

all of her posts are extremely chaotic

and usually reposts from her snapchat

has a reddit just to troll John

reposted his cringy youtube videos to reddit and got hundreds of upvotes

if you wanna see the most raw and chaotic videos of Arthur and John then she’s the one to follow. 

also if you wanna see Abigail when she’s not all put together. 

is the reason there’s so many memes in the collaborative pinterest board

Mary-Beth

has a instagram but also has a second instagram for art and book reviews

or basically anything she’d post on her tumblr

which is her second most used social

also uses facebook but only because she is an admin for one of those multifandom blogs. 

also begs Arthur to get a deviantart. 

uses pinterest most but only second to Abigail

literally the queen of pinterest DIYs

Micah

has twitter

as far as anyone else knows that’s all he has

maybe he has snapchat?

maybe they saw him on snapmaps once? 

all he ever does with twitter though is retweet anything Dutch posts.

yet somehow he has so many followers. 

Lenny

anyone who has snapchat has streaks with Lenny

even Hosea who doesn’t understand why it’s a thing

he also posts a lot on facebook but it’s mostly travel or vacation photos everyone is just a tad jealous of. 

Lenny always seems to be busy but still has time for streaks with his friends. 

he’s also an up and coming youtube vlogger

Sean

also has reddit to troll john

but he also legitimately uses it too. 

he’s also really popular in the minecraft subreddit , don’t ask

also has twitch and also has way more subsribers than John

and a youtube which he’ll upload (overly edited) twitch streams to

everyone subscribes to him but they don’t tell John that.

also has a tiktok and is up to date on all the trends because of course he is

Kieran

got facebook when he was 10 and just never left.

literally doesn’t use any other social media

he’s not in the group text either so he has to facebook message Arthur to know what’s going on. 

but he shares a lot of memes and cute pictures of animals

he used to follow Dutch but unfriended him when he was the only thing he ever had on his activity feed. 

Susan

has facebook but claims she doesn’t have time to use it

Arthur knows this to not be true because she will like a lot of his posts. 

she’s also guilty of liking every single picture in one post or album. 

Arthur has also caught her looking at memes and using recipes she finds on there. 

also part of the pinterest board but never contributes. 

Trelawny

he has an account for everything

like

litereally

everything. 

even whatsapp and linked in and kik

even tinder

the only one anyone knows about are his facebook, twitter, and instagam

but there’s no posts on any of them except twitter

he’s also verified

but for unknown reasons

any posts on his facebook are ones he’s tagged in

he’s also in a lot of facebook groups

Strauss

runs a subreddit

a paid facebook admin of several pages

the only person who actually knows this is Dutch because Strauss has told him about it

he has no online presence whatsoever out side of those.

Javier

spotify king

has over 500,000 subscribers on youtube

uses instagram but as another platform for his music

edits his own album covers

top tier playlists too

Tilly

aesthetic queen

the most put together and pleasing to look at instagram feed next to Charles. 

uses pinterest a lot as inspiration and for making moodboards.

also uses tumblr to share moodboards

part of the sims global community facebook group

she keeps saying she’s going to start a youtube vlog but hasn’t yet

keeps trying to convince John to let her help him with his youtube.

she also uses twitch to play minecraft and sims

oh and she set up a minecraft server for everyone

Bill

facebook boomer

that’s it

I don’t know how else to put it

probably shares heavily republican posts

Swanson

didn’t use social media until tiktok.

he doesn’t do dances or anything but he does post weirdly obscure and chaotic videos that end up trending on more than one occasion

it’s usually drunk ramblings in his car that end up being hilarious

or videos of the others almost dying or ending up in the ER

Pearson

facebook boomer but make it cool.

also shares conservative posts but less offensive ones compared to Bill’s

likes almost every post any of his friends share

also comments on them too

Uncle

does he have social media? no one knows for sure. 

yet somehow he knows what’s going on

even if nobody can find any of his social accounts or have ever seen him using one before let alone doing anything on his phone other than playing cheesy mobile games.

[sevlgi]

believe

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: guardian angel!jisoo, near death instances, unlucky reader. [22/33].

warnings: none

synopsis: You’ve never believed in guardian angels, but that just might change when you’re saved from certain death 3 times in one week.

a/n: idk if I’ve ever seen anyone do a similar au... tell me if you have! also i’m actually hella proud of this one lmao

word count: 1.8k

Do guardian angels exist?

Well, that’s a subjective question, and there really isn’t a yes or no answer... But if yours does, they’re doing the shittiest job of the century.

The amount of times you’ve been hurt in the past, both physically and emotionally, is stupidly high. You’ve always had an aptitude for getting injured, stories of broken bones and gashes making up basically half of your entire life. Your friends and family pride themselves on having a fully loaded arsenal of embarrassing tales, practically making it a rite of passage to visit the hospital with you. And don’t even mention the heartbreaks- those just seem to follow you wherever you go.

When you move to a different city for what must be the 10th time, you vow that it’s going to be different, no matter how obvious it is that it won’t. You vow that there aren’t going to be any incidents that land you in the hospital, nor any relationships that just end in chaos.

Suffice to say, all of that goes haywire on your first day in town.

Without a car to drive you to work or any friends to hitchhike off of, you take the subway, line #224 to Solace Building. There just so happens to be a new girl group song you’re obsessed with, blasting on the highest possible volume in your earbuds, when you’re shoved from the back right into the subway tracks. “Fu-”

Time slows down as you start to fall, the dusty railways coming too close to your face for comfort before a warm hand wraps around yours, the socket of your arm straining to carry your entire weight as you’re jerked back sharply.

You collide with a warm body, soft curves lessening the impact and delicate, impossibly strong hands steadying you on either side of your waist. By all logic, you should’ve knocked your savior over, should be sprawled on the ground right now with dirty palms and a heat-flushed face. “Are you okay?”

When you step back sharply, you’re met with the sight of the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. Her heart-shaped smile and delicate features are framed with cascading brown hair, and she has ethereally flawless porcelain skin. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes the plainest outfit look designer, that could make you believe sea glass to be pure diamond. “Uh. Y-yeah. I’m good.”

“I’m glad,” she chuckles, smiling even wider and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Maybe she doesn’t realize the effect she has on you, humming as she dusts something invisible off your bag. “You should be more careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you being killed by a train.”

If it was anyone else, the words would sound creepy, especially with the added factor of the girl knowing your name. “How-- how do you know who I am?”

She juts her lips at the card hanging off your bag, your name written in big, bold letters. “Nametag. Y/N Y/L/N, employee in Solace Building?”

To hide the heat in your cheeks, you look to the floor and stutter out, “Well. Since you know my name, uh, isn’t it fitting that I know yours?”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’d like it to be-- usually, the natural flirt in you would’ve made an appearance-- but the petite brunette extends a hand, tipped with gentle pink nails. “Jisoo. Kim Jisoo, if that’s helpful at all.”

Your next words are interrupted by your train arriving; when Jisoo doesn’t follow you on, you turn to look at her with your eyebrow quirked. “Are you...?”

“Not my train,” she smiles, shaking her head, even though it’s the only one arriving for hours where she stands. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Stay out of trouble!”

It’s an odd way to end a first meeting, but you don’t think much of it as you grab the nearest seat and pull out your phone to search her up. K-I-M J-I-S-O-O, you type, eyes scanning the screen fervently as the train starts.

Plenty of people show up-- after all, Kim Jisoo is not a rare name-- but none of the dozens of profiles you click through are the beautiful girl who saved your life. It’s too late when you look back out the window towards the station, the only thing you see becoming brick wall.

The next time you almost die, you’re just walking to the coffee shop across from your apartment.

The activity should be safe, considering that not many people in the area own cars. At first, you think you are safe, crossing the silent street with no problem and receiving your usual order just fine; you’re on your way back to your lonely little apartment when you hear the screeching of car tires on the road.

“Watch out!” someone screams, but you’re frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. You forget how there wasn’t a single car in the street when you were crossing as you stare at the grill coming close. The car doesn’t stop or slow down, and you scrunch your eyes shut with your arms raised up, just waiting for the impact.

It never comes. When you hesitantly open your eyes again, you find a familiar figure standing in front of you, the force of her hand having knocked your coffee onto your blouse. The car bumper is pressing into her bare leg, which is miraculously clean of a scratch or bruise, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she turns to grin at you.

“Sorry, I ruined your coffee,” Jisoo frowns, her hand coming up to almost touch the steaming stain on your chest. You stare at her mutely, following obediently when she grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the coffee shop. “Can I buy you another one?” she offers, plucking a napkin off a street-side table.

“Kim Jisoo?” you say disbelievingly, not even feeling it as she dabs the coffee away. “You again?”

“Me again,” she confirms, pulling some more napkins out of her purse with a smile on her face. “I hope you’re not disappointed; after all, I just saved you from dying. Again.”

“No, that’s not...” Taking a deep breath, you smile too, wrapping your fingers around her hand to gently brush her off. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you, actually-- I searched for your profile to thank you, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Jisoo shrugs, opening the door to the coffee shop for you. “Oh, I’m not really on social media. If you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked.”

You laugh lightly, tossing the crushed cup in your hand into the trash. Of course it’s odd that she isn’t on social media in the 21st century-- with her face, you’d expect Jisoo to be a major influencer. “Then I’ll ask for it. Later.”

“Of course. Order what you want, I owe you one after all that,” she offers, plucking a couple loose 20 dollar bills out of her purse.

Once again, you’re faced with another weird habit of hers, but you order anyway and thank her after she pays. Before you can say anything else, though, she gets a text and frowns at her phone. “Oh, sorry, I have to go. Catch you next time?”

“Sure,” you answer, forgetting to tell her that she still forgot to give you her number. You stand dumbly on the sidewalk and watch her go, taking a deep breath and looking both ways before you set off towards your apartment for the second time that day.

Maybe next time?

The third, and hopefully last time, is the absolute weirdest of all. 

You seem to have a thing for being knocked into ditches-- this time, a group of teenagers barrels into you while you’re walking by the side of the only river in your entire city. You open your mouth to tell them off, but before you can, an especially hard shove from an stocky little boy pushes you right into the water.

Luckily, the fall isn’t high, so you don’t hit the water with much force, but the boats cruising along and the recently terrible weather stir the current strong enough to pull you right under. In the icy water, you feel your fingers let go of the phone in your hand, your lungs slowly being crushed by the pressure of your surroundings.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes while you’re in the water. From what your doctors have told you, trauma is difficult to remember clearly for a while, but you vaguely feel hands linking in front of your chest and forearms bracing under your armpits to drag you out of the water.

The heat of the summer sun warms the stone under your back and you can hear whispers sounding around you as you flop onto the floor. Hands push hard on your breastbone, once, twice-

After maybe 30 pushes, fingers pinch your nose, and soft lips meet yours. It feels more like a kiss than CPR, no air really being blown into your mouth, but nonetheless, you feel water leaving your lungs, and you open your eyes in shock, coughing out loud.

To your (somewhat) shock, it’s the same girl hovering over you. Jisoo’s skirt is wet at her knees where she kneels beside you, her hands still hovering over your chest. She must’ve been the one giving CPR, then. Sitting up, you hack violently until most of the water’s out of your lungs, the other girl waving away all of the spectators. “How’re you feeling?” she asks, once you’re alone on the sidewalk.

Your hands move faster than your brain, pulling her forward by the nape of her neck until you kiss again, something about her tasting familiar in a way you can’t quite place. “Who are you?” you breathe once you’ve pulled away, searching her warm eyes for an answer.

She smiles again, handing you your miraculously dry phone instead of answering. It should be waterlogged and dead, but nothing seems to make sense when concered with Kim Jisoo. “How about you take me for dinner or something before asking the serious questions? Soup should be good to warm you up.”

Hand clasping in hers, you’re pulled to your feet with strength that doesn’t match her petite stature. You barely remember that you look like an almost-drowned rat, your lips purple with cold and your hair stringy with icy water. “Sure. Soup. But you need to answer me first.”

She exhales, hitching her bag higher up on her arm. “I’d say I’m your guardian angel, but you wouldn’t believe that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” you answer, eyes narrowing as you follow her down the street. “But maybe you can convince me. Over soup.”

[starsinmylatte]

A Song Among the Stars

Chapter count: 2/?

Rating: Mature 🔞

Relationships: Grand Admiral Thrawn/Original Female Character

Tags:

Space Opera (literally)

Slow Burn

Slow Romance

Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con

Never by thrawn

Sexual Tension

Mix of Legends and Canon

Art Enthusiast Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo

Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo is protective of his muse

Ballroom Dancing

Imperial Star Destroyers (Star Wars)

Imperial Officers (Star Wars)

Angst and Romance

Canon-Typical Violence

Chiss (Star Wars)

Chiss Ascendancy (Star Wars)

Masquerade

The Empire shows off

Imperial style

Phantom of the Opera AU if you squint

Thrawn finds his muse

Total word count: 5,506

Chapter 1: Overture

Song suggestion: Reflections- Toshifumi Hinata

I lingered in the bath, fully understanding that I was only delaying the inevitable. The warm, aromatic water swirled around me as I began to dread the next few hours. Soon, the handmaidens assigned to prepare me for tonight would arrive to ensure my compliance.

At an earlier point in my life, I would have resisted all of their attempts to shove me into the various gowns, gems, and the absolutely appalling shoes that had been chosen for me. I had actually bitten the first girl that tried to change my outfit forcibly.

The handmaidens were all extremely wary of me after that incident, but, somehow, three of them had managed to become my only true friends on Coruscant. Despite my best intentions to hate everyone, Talle, Kaia, and Ahni were the only ones who bothered to understand my story.

Though each of us was from a different planet, we had all been taken from our homes by the Empire. We all served high-ranking Imperials, but my main role was different. I was a piece of Imperial propaganda. I was painted as the poor girl from the Outer Rim whose singing talent was discovered by the Empire and given a place to shine for the whole galaxy to see.

My train of thought was immediately interrupted by the sound of three very familiar sets of footsteps entering my room and a sing-song voice that rang out, “Oh Lyra! It seems that you’re stuck with us yet again.”

I let out a genuine snort before retaliating. “Kaia, you know nobody else wants to be anywhere near biting distance of me. You’d have to be personally requested by Lady Tarkin before anyone would consider switching jobs with you, and that’s saying something.”

I suddenly shuddered as I remembered my last encounter with her. Thankfully it had been brief, but it had still felt like an eternity. “That woman is so unpleasant.”

The second voice jokingly mused, “I don’t know, sometimes you can be almost as miserable as her. Now come on out of the bath. We have to start getting you ready.”

“Just five more minutes Talle.” I groaned, “I can just feel that tonight will be particularly long.”

Kaia laughed as she poked her head into the refresher and handed me a mug. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that, and that’s why we’re here ten minutes early.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Before you even begin to ask about it, here’s your shig.”

I shot Kaia a friendly scowl before immediately perking up at the mention of my favorite tea. I had always been partial to caf, but there was nothing better than a steaming cup of herbal tea before a performance. The citrusy scent of the behot immediately filled the small room, and holding the warm mug in my hands was instantly comforting. I let out a sigh of pure bliss, “Stars, you are a wonderful friend.”

Kaia winked before exiting the refresher. “Oh, I know.”

As I enjoyed the last few minutes of my bath, the tea brought back memories of my home. Before the Empire had taken me, a cup of shig and a hot bath would have been considerably rare, and the chances of both happening on the same day, even rarer.

Back on Ero, life was more mundane. My father always had quality goods on hand, but as a trader, he couldn’t just let his daughter drink all of his products. There were also no fancy bathtubs because they were a waste of precious drinking water, so almost everyone used sonic showers instead. I could resent the Empire all I wanted to, but there was no denying that I was at least well provided for. Somehow that made me hate my captivity even more.

I gripped my mug as I fought the other memories that tried to resurface. It had gotten easier to push them down as the years passed, but the pain was still there. Flashes of my capture, my time spent held on a Star Destroyer, the captain that had trapped me in his quarters…... The last thing I needed was to slip back into these memories.

Then there was a gentle hand on my shoulder. The sudden presence made me jump, but I saw Ahni’s smiling face when I looked up. Her face was both a comfort and a constant reminder that the Empire had hurt many people besides me. She had a beautiful deep green complexion marred by the scars from her capture that ran across her face and entire body. Ahni rarely spoke, but she was still extraordinarily expressive and always had ways to make her emotions known. Realization flashed across her face before she bent down and hugged me.

We shared an understanding moment of silence before Kaia yelled in from the other room. “Come on, Ly! We have to get you into all this kriffing fabric sometime today. I heard that we managed to get one of the better options, but tonight everything is special, so there’s more to do than usual.”

Stars, I almost forgot, I mentally berated myself. Tonight’s not only the biggest party I’ve been expected to perform at so far, but it’s the kriffing Masquerade too.

I immediately began cursing under my breath in every trade language I knew as I leapt from the bathtub, wrapped a robe around myself, and ran out of the refresher, closely followed by a very amused Ahni.

My apartment was quite lovely for basically being a prison. I had a plush bed with privacy curtains, a small vanity, a bedside table, a closet filled with outfits, and a tiny enclosed balcony. Having a private refresher made it very close to luxury.

I walked over to the vanity and had a seat. I had been prepared for Imperial events far too many times and knew the procedure that was about to happen by heart. I used to protest that I could get ready myself, but preparing for an Imperial ball required way more thought and perfection than anything else and by now, I put my trust in Kaia, Talle, and Ahni.

Tonight demanded absolute perfection.

The Masquerade was a collection and celebration of the Empire’s most significant members, and my role was to be the sparkling gem in the center of everything. I knew my true purpose tonight involved way more than my renowned singing ability. My presence tonight was pure propaganda. I was a message to every person on every planet in the Empire. This could be you. The Empire is generous. If this insignificant girl from the Outer Rim could be here, you could be here too.

I had already been warned about the consequences if I fell short of what was required tonight.

Hours later, the process was finally complete. Talle had powdered, colored, and shaded my face to her precise standards. She had even filled my lips in with a deep red pigment and darkened my eyelashes to complement my icy blue eyes. Not to be outdone, Kaia had coaxed my long blonde hair into an elegant, intricate updo inlaid with black and white quartz.

The dress came last, and it was stunning. When Ahni opened my closet, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. Whoever had selected it had undoubtedly wanted me to stand out. There would be no shortage of finery tonight, but I was to be resplendent.

Talle was completely astonished for a long moment before she spoke, “I do believe this is the least horrid thing they’ve picked out for you.”

Ahni nodded vigorously in agreement while Kaia and I remained utterly speechless. The dress was breathtaking, even just on the mannequin.

Getting into the dress was a three-person endeavor, but the struggle was utterly worth it. The long, form-fitting black dress perfectly hugged every curve from the floor up before tapering just slightly above my cleavage. There, the material shifted to the left, wrapped behind my neck, and then formed a sleeve that draped down my entire right arm. However, the most remarkable thing about the dress was the fabric. Any and every way that I moved caused the material to shimmer like the thousands of stars twinkling in the night sky.

I was provided a single thick, gold cuff for my left wrist, and even though the hem of the dress would cover them, heeled slippers made out of the same fabric as the dress.

Talle smiled and carefully handed me the final missing piece. “Now, now,” she jested, “you can’t go to a masquerade without this.”

The mask she handed me was so intricately ornate that it easily could have been mistaken for black lace, but it was actually made from a lightweight metal inlaid with dozens of sparkling diamonds. When I put it on, it rested just above my nose to conceal the upper half of my face beautifully.

As Kaia secured the whole thing in my hair with more pins and gemstones, Ahni produced a floor-length mirror from the closet. In my performances on Eros, I had worn dresses that were considered elegant in the Outer Rim, but there was no way they could ever compare to this. For the first time in my life, I was stunned at my appearance. I had never been overly confident, but now I felt absolutely beautiful.

Talle laughed, “Just try not to stop any hearts tonight. The Empire might lose important officers, and then we’d all be in trouble for making you look this good.”

Kaia placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her snickering, and Ahni looked highly amused by the thought.

I just rolled my eyes, “I think their partners would probably get to me first.”

That sent everyone over the edge, and we all laughed to the point of tearing up. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Ahni went over to open it, and two officers decked out in their Imperial best stepped into the room. The shorter officer locked eyes with me and blushed furiously before looking away.

The taller one finally spoke, “Good evening Miss. We will be your escorts for the night. If you wouldn’t mind following us, we have a speeder waiting to take us to the venue.”

I smiled at the officer, “Thank you, I appreciate it. If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside, I’ll finish up and be out in a second.”

He nodded and signaled to the other man. They stepped outside, and I immediately pulled Ahni, Talle, and Kaia into a big hug. “Thank you all for your help and for being my friends; you make this so much more bearable. I’ll see you when I get back tonight.”

After a few seconds, we broke apart and finished our goodbyes. I smiled at my friends one last time before walking out of the room to join the officers.

________________________________________________

Chapter 2: Aria

Orchestra tuning: The Imperial March (Glory of the Empire)

Lyra’s final song: Roméo et Juliette, CG 9 Act 1: “Ah, je veux vivre danse ce rève” sung by Aida Garifullina

*TW* brief Attempted assault/non-con towards the end of the chapter

The officers outside of my door stood so close that I almost ran headfirst into the taller one when I stepped out.

“Apologies, Miss, we thought you’d be a little longer,” the man managed as he smoothly sidestepped me before acknowledging his previous blunder, “It also seems like we’ve forgotten to introduce ourselves.”

He briefly paused to take his place beside his partner before continuing. “My name is Captain Dreycolt, and this is Lieutenant Arkmad. It’s an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance and we both actually have you to thank for our presence at the Masquerade tonight.”

Arkmad, who was still noticeably red in the face, nodded sagely. “None of the higher-ranking officers wanted to be stuck with a job at the party; however, the rest of us were fighting to even be included. We happened to fall at the perfect place on the pecking order,” he smiled slyly.

I raised a single eyebrow at Arkmad and gave him my most saccharine smile, “Well, I’m glad that this will be an enjoyable job for you, even though you’re stuck with me.”

His face flushed several shades deeper, and he started to stammer. “M-My apologies M-Miss. I n-never meant to imply….”

Dreycolt promptly tapped him on the shoulder to cut him off before turning back to me and smoothly taking my hand. In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, slowly raised it to his lips, and gallantly kissed the top of my hand. He smiled up at me through lowered lashes, “However, any job that is this beautiful couldn’t possibly be so bad.”

Now it was my turn to blush and I prayed the mask hid most of it because Dreycolt was definitely an attractive man. His caramel-colored hair was neatly trimmed with darker eyebrows and eyelashes framing his warm amber eyes. The uniform he wore fit him exceptionally well, and the slight stubble on his chin tickled my hand as he pressed his lips to it. After what felt like an eternity, he released his grip, and my hand returned to my side.

There was no doubt Dreycolt’s distraction from his lieutenant’s blunder had worked as intended. I could tell he knew as much from the slight smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You flatter me, Captain. If all Imperial officers are as pleasant as you, perhaps tonight will be more enjoyable than I expected.”

Of course, all officers aren’t as kind or practiced in flattery, I thought darkly. These two seem bearable enough to talk to, so I’m at least grateful for that. After all, they’ll be keeping me company for most of the night when I’m not on the stage.

His annoyance at the situation briefly flashed in Arkmad’s eyes before he cleared his throat. He did not seem to enjoy being sidelined for his misstep.

“We should be on our way by now,” he chided. “The airspeeder has priority clearance to travel outside of normal traffic lanes, but I don’t want to explain why the Empire’s star performer is late for her practice time with the orchestra.”

He was, of course, right. Dreycolt jokingly bowed and gestured out into the hallway. “Lead the way, Miss.”

With the Captain and Lieutenant flanking me, I walked through the twisting hallways of the building towards the balcony where our airspeeder was docked.

I was still somewhat dreading the Masquerade, but at least the ride would be pleasant and I would even get to see the sky again. It sounded like such a small thing to enjoy, but coming from Ero to Coruscant was a massive shock in so many ways. I could always see the sky and the stars glittering at night in the Outer Rim but Coruscant was a completely different story.

Though my apartment was beautiful, it was nowhere near the skyline. I played an important role, but it was definitely not important enough for me to live among the rich and powerful. The towering buildings above me kept all traces of natural light from finding my little room, and while artificial light was better than living in the dark, it held no comparison to the real thing.

When we reached the airspeeder, Dreycolt jumped into the driver’s seat, and Arkmad helped me into the back before taking his place in the seat beside him. At the press of a button, a smooth, clear dome slid overhead and enclosed the craft.

I couldn’t resist making a joke. “For both your sakes, I’m glad there’s a roof. You would have to deal with my very unhappy hairstylist if her work was ruined.”

Dreycolt let out a deep-chested laugh, and even Arkmad’s stormy facade cracked into a smile before the airspeeder pulled away from the building, and we were finally on our way.

Since I was expected to be at the venue early to rehearse, night had not yet taken over the cityscape. The sky was cloudy as usual, but light still fell to glisten and reflect across the tops of the tallest buildings. The view was absolutely breathtaking.

I all but shoved my face against the clear dome to take in all of the incredible scenes spread out below. Thousands of speeders, taxis, and transports wove around the many buildings, each with a different purpose and destination. I was beyond captivated by all the people and their freedom to go wherever they pleased, whenever they wanted to.

Before I knew it, we had arrived at one of the most palatial homes on the highest level I had ever seen. Dreycolt stopped the speeder at the balcony, although calling it a balcony was a massive understatement, and Arkmad helped me out onto the landing. I had become accustomed to the splendor displayed by the most influential Imperials, but this was on another level entirely.

An enormous garden lay spread out beyond the balcony’s opulent landing pad. The path we walked down extended its way throughout the entirety of the grounds and wrapped around a massive central fountain before it continued up into a set of stairs that I could only guess led to the main ballroom.

Statues depicting the most famous Imperial victories lined both sides of the walkway, which eventually branched off to different garden sections on each side. Upon closer inspection, the central fountain proudly displayed the Imperial Crest carved into stone so dark it could’ve been mistaken for a solid shadow.

Every single hedge, bush, or flower we could see was maintained to standards of perfection that would impress even the Admiralty of the Imperial Navy. The sweet scent of the many exotic flowers lingered in the air, and the sounds of water trickling from the fountain made the garden almost seem peaceful.

Dreycolt let out a low whistle that made both the lieutenant and I jump. Evidently, he had passed the speeder off to another officer while we were distracted. “Stars. I had heard the constant squabbling over who would get to host led to an amazing result, but this is insane.”

Arkmad nodded, “Someone told me the Emperor personally picked the host and venue. I have no idea who was picked, but they certainly did an outstanding job with the preparations.”

“I wish I were able to walk around,” I sighed wistfully. “It’s been years since I’ve been in a real garden.”

Dreycolt smiled, “Well, Miss, perhaps after your performance, we can arrange that.”

The grin that crept across my face was hard to hide as that simple thought became all of the encouragement I needed to get through the night. As the three of us began the walk to the ballroom, I realized that whoever had designed the path had done so with women’s shoes in mind, as it was completely smooth and comfortable to walk on. Kriffing hell, they really thought of it all.

Before long, we reached the top of the stairs and entered the ballroom. I didn’t think anything would outshine the garden, but I was so very very wrong. The garden was the pinnacle of control and order, but the ballroom exuded absolute elegance.

As we reached the top of the stairs, another officer was waiting to announce our arrival, but I was so captivated by my surroundings that I barely heard what he said. Beyond him was the main dance floor. It looked to be made out of the same dark stone as the fountain, but it was polished so thoroughly you could easily see your reflection looking back at you if you looked down. At the far end of the room, a small but wide set of stairs led up to the stage where the orchestra was busily setting up. More stairs just inside the entrance led to the upper floor, which was filled with tables draped in brilliant white cloths for people to sit and enjoy the spectacle of the dancing below them. A massive, crystalline chandelier hung over the ballroom and blood-red sashes decorated the balconies.

There was so much more to see, but, unfortunately, I wasn’t there to spectate.

As I walked up to the stage, I stopped to greet the conductor of the orchestra; Skath Farri was an old friend from the conservatory where I had trained. He was invited to Coruscant for his considerable talents and was never permitted to leave. Now, he conducted the Imperial Orchestra. No one could know our relationship was anything more than professional, or we’d never see each other again.

“Ly! You look gorgeous, my dear.” He greeted me with the usual platonic kiss on the cheek and inconspicuous wink. “Are you ready to shine tonight?”

That was his unique way of checking in on me. He was very aware that I had never entirely given my voice, or heart, to the Empire. I followed orders and sang the songs they wanted, but the emotion that drove my greatest performances was still in the Outer Rim. There was a marked difference between my performances here and Ero, but only someone like Skath would ever notice. I still played my part of the obedient songbird, but I refused to give them all of me.

I smiled back at him. “Just about as ready as I’ll ever be. They sent me a rather impressive list of everything I’m to perform tonight. At the very least, I came prepared.”

Skath just smiled knowingly before he shooed me onto the stage to begin warming up with the orchestra. Time seemed to stop as I rehearsed, but before long, the guests started to arrive and I was sent over to wait in my spot in the backstage wings until it was time to perform.

I could only see the stage, but I heard names, both familiar and not, being announced upon their entrance. The ballroom began to fill with voices as the guests trickled in. All of a sudden, a musical cue played, and the room went deathly silent. A ghostly hologram flickered to life in the center of the stage, and the shadowy form of the Emperor appeared.

“Welcome, my friends. I trust you will all enjoy tonight as a celebration worthy of our great Empire.” He paused for applause before continuing. “Now, it is my wish that you use this time to reflect on the victories that brought us to this moment. I assure you there will be many more in the future.”

The Emperor stood for even more cheering before holding up his hand to silence the crowd. “Now, let my Masquerade begin!”

His hologram flickered slightly before disappearing altogether as the lights dimmed, cuing me to get on stage. I walked out to stand in the center of the stage, and as soon as I reached my place, the lights slowly returned to their former brilliance.

I was no stranger to performing, but having every single Imperial in the room staring at me was enough to give me butterflies in my stomach. Thankfully, before they could settle in, Skath cued the orchestra to begin with a flick of his baton. The opening notes of the first piece, a current favorite on Coruscant, swelled to life, and I began to sing.

Almost immediately, the officers and politicians turned to their spouses or began to venture off in search of a dance partner. The crowded dance floor began to clear slightly, as others had no interest in dancing and were only there to make connections. The first song ended with tremendous applause, and I began the second. You can do this. Just take it one piece at a time.

By now, I was calm enough to enjoy myself and to watch the dancing and it quickly became apparent that everyone in attendance had tried their best to impress. The ladies wore beautiful, elaborate dresses made out of the best materials and representing the latest fashions from every corner of the Empire. Politicians displayed the most richly colored and finely tailored clothing they owned and Imperial officers were in their usual dress uniforms, but no one was seen without a mask.

There were all kinds of masks on display. Some were crafted entirely from gems or precious materials to show off resources from their home planet. Others pulled designs from legendary animals or myths. There were even some covered in exotic feathers or flowers, but every mask was distinctive in its own way.

Hours passed as I continued to sing. Slowly but surely, I made my way through the extensive list of songs on the program until only one remained. The last song required using a specialized instrument, so I retreated to the wings for some water while it was being set up.

Suddenly, Skath appeared and sprinted towards me. He spun me around to face him fully, and I was in shock at how frazzled he looked. Even his voice was strained. “Lyra, you have to trust me. I have no idea who asked for this, but they were important enough to change the final song we planned. Every member of the orchestra was given the new sheet music, and a stand was set out for you.”

“They want me to sight-read a piece on a night as important as this?!” I gasped indignantly at the thought.

Skath’s face was grim. “No. You’ll know it, but you won’t be happy about it. We don’t have any time left, so we’ve got to get back on stage. For what it’s worth….. I’m so sorry.”

My stomach sank. If he was this upset… I had no idea what to expect. However, there was no choice but to walk back to my place on stage and pretend nothing had even happened. With every step, the sinking feeling in my stomach grew.

It was so much worse than I ever could’ve expected. There was no way anyone here besides Skath should know about this song, but here it was in front of me. It was my favorite piece of music and the only one I’d sworn to keep from the Empire forever. The piece that had been the star of my first major performance on Ero after I left the conservatory.

Before I could even finish my thought, the orchestra cued up. The first few notes began, and every single one of them felt like a knife to the heart. My muscle memory kicked in, and before I even knew it, I was singing.

Thoughts flew through my head while I choked my way through the opening verse. What would I do? Do I keep my promise and hold back, or do I seize the chance I was forced into and truly sing from my heart? Memories of Ero, my family, and my friends all returned as the song continued. My voice began to flow over the music as I made it my own. I remembered my father’s smile and how proud he’d been of me for my music.

Courage suddenly coursed through me like liquid fire. I’d show every kriffing Imperial here what a daughter of the Outer Rim was truly capable of! I was wrong to hold back my emotions before. They could take me, bring me to this place, and shove me on a stage, but they could never control my voice. The Empire wanted me to be their emotionless puppet. My voice wasn’t exactly quiet before, but now it rose to fill the entire ballroom. I was going to burn myself into the mind of every Imperial present. Whoever requested this song would not see me subdued; they would see me triumphant. I poured every ounce of bottled-up emotion into my music, and my voice soared. Then, I had sung the final note, and it was all over.

You could’ve heard a code cylinder drop in the ballroom after the orchestra finished. The dancing had all but stopped, and people were leaning over the balcony to watch me. I curtsied, preparing to exit the stage and receive whatever punishment was in store for kriffing up the Masquerade, but then the thunderous applause began.

I kept my curtsy for as long as possible before my knees started to buckle. Everything left in me had gone into the song, and I barely made it into the wings before I collapsed. Fortunately, Captain Dreycolt was there to catch me before I hit the floor.

I smiled weakly at him. “Since the orchestra is taking it from here, now might be a good time for me to get some fresh air.”

He grabbed Arkmad, and together they helped me out one of the side doors into the garden. I didn’t want to be seen in my weakened state, but thankfully the garden was empty. Most people seemed to be still dancing or otherwise occupied. Those that were in the garden didn’t appear to have ventured this far.

Dreycolt stopped and pointed at the hedge maze, “There’s a small sitting area in the middle. The only way in or out is through the maze. Why don’t we take you to it so you can rest? Arkmad and I will stand at the entrance and exit to make sure you aren’t bothered.”

I had no complaints; the idea sounded fantastic. We made our way through the maze until we reached the center. It was small and only had enough room for a bench, but it was paradise to me. Arkmad helped me onto the bench before making his way to the exit. Dreycolt gave me one last worried glance, turned around, and headed back towards the entrance. The crisp night air felt wonderful on my face, and I began to relax. I closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and started to feel normal again.

The sudden sound of footsteps startled me. Assuming it was Dreycolt or Arkmad, I rose to meet them. For the second time that night, I was profoundly incorrect. A cold, sly voice broke the silence as the face that haunted my dreams stepped into the area. “Hello, Lyra. I bet you thought you’d never see me again.”

Icy fear washed over me as I was thrown into complete shock. Standing in front of me was Girerd Bost, the captain that took me from my home and attempted to violate me in every way possible. The starlight shone on his face, illuminating his narrow, glacial eyes and the nasty scar to the right of them. I hissed at him, “Captain Bost, what an unpleasant surprise.” I gestured to his scar, “It’s a real shame that didn’t heal better.”

He had the decency to look hurt by my cutting words as he moved his pale hair to the side and softly traced the scar. “Unfortunately for you, it’s Commodore Bost now.”

Before I could even blink, he lunged at me, grabbed me by the throat, and shoved me down onto the bench. Bost leaned forward and whispered into my ear. “Those two boys waiting for you were certainly brave. They tried to argue with me, but they couldn’t disobey a direct order from a Commodore no matter how much they wanted to.”

He paused briefly to trace his other gloved hand over my face. His touch revolted me and made my skin crawl; he seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort before continuing, “Now, there’s no one nearby to interrupt us…”

At that moment, he made the mistake of stroking my lips. It was my turn to lunge forward, and I bit down on his hand hard. Bost screamed and released my throat to grab his bleeding fingers. I leapt up from the bench and bolted past him, sprinting as fast as possible towards the maze’s entrance and praying that I wouldn’t hit a dead end. He was chasing me by this point, screaming obscenities and threats of what he would do to me. Finally, an opening in the hedges appeared. I glanced behind me to see if Bost was close behind, but as soon as I turned my head, I suddenly collided with a very large, solid thing.

The hedges made it way too dark for me to see, but from the soft grunt I heard during the collision, it was another man. I recoiled backward defensively as Bost rounded the corner. The mysterious man glanced at him, looked back at me, and seemed to judge the situation quickly. He swiftly stepped in front of me to block Bost’s path. At this point, all my dignity flew out the window, and I hid behind his tall figure. I just had to trust fate that I was better off with him than with the Commodore. In contrast to Bost’s loud cursing, the other man’s voice was impossibly soft and collected when he spoke. “Commodore, I believe this woman would like to be left alone.”

Still distracted by his hand, Bost howled, “Just who do you think you…..”. He looked up at the man and abruptly shut his mouth. Before he could re-open it, my unknown hero spoke again. This time his voice had a definite edge, and an unrecognizable accent slightly marred his words.

“I am Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Seventh Fleet. I trust you will have no further issues with me asking you to leave.”

[metalbvcky]

*Shows up late to the Stucky/Marvel fandom Post-EG with Starbucks and dozens of fics that I’ve read in hand* So you guys like fanfiction?

Yeah so, because of quarantine I’ve been consuming a ton of fic. I’ve probably read over 1.5 million words in just a couple months. So why not share what I’ve been reading! Note that some of these are older (popular) fics so veteran Stucky peeps will probably know of them since I not too recently delved into the realm that is Stucky fanfic. :)  

Down below are over a dozen fics with different tropes, Canon/AU’s, and what not. Please do heed the tags on some of these. For the curious: My AO3 bookmarks. 

Also shoutout to @stuckylibrary, the mods over there are doing the lords work. 

Key:  ♥ = My fave, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub 

Heroes are Easy, People are Hard ♥ by Halbereth, Lorien - Words: 152,284 | CW Fix It, Slight Canon Divergence, Recovery, Slow Burn

Shuri and Wanda cleared Bucky's triggers shortly after Killmonger's attempted coup, and he and Steve went on the run. But it turns out there's more to "fixing Bucky's head" than "getting Hydra out of it." When a group of rogue scientists manage to neutralize the serum and make Steve very sick--pre-serum "this is bad" kind of sick--and they're cut off from contact with Wakanda, Bucky knows only one person with resources to help. He calls Tony and surrenders on the condition that Tony tries to help Steve.

From there, it's basically three variously messed-up guys’ trajectories from "This Is Fine", "Reasonably Speaking I Know It’s Fine", "I Will Be Fine With It" to actually being fine, guest-starring a far-better-adjusted teenage boy who climbs walls, a 1957 Ford Thunderbird, two women with a keen sense of the absurd, and Bruce, the Zen master of “it’s fine that it’s not fine.” Add in the fact that Bucky's been secretly in love with Steve since the thirties and things only get harder. Learning to be a person is the hardest thing Bucky Barnes will ever have to do--but he's got company along the way.

Reap The Whirlwind by Cristinuke - Words: 18,221 | Canon Universe, Post CW, Domestic 

Bucky finds a cat. Or rather, a cat finds him.

Your Favorite Ghost by augustbird - Words: 21,013 |  Canon Divergence, Post TWS

It's harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home.

Despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) ♥ by praximeter (Zimario) - Words: 71,532 | Canon Divergence TWS, Body Modifications 

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

This city bleeds its aching heart ♥ by Renne - Words: 34,537 | Canon Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship 

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

The Best Way to Wake ♥ by LeeHan - Words: 42,293 | Post TFA, Canon Divergence TWS, Recovery 

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail ♥ series by owlet - Words: 264,438 | Canon Divergence (sort of) 

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

Undersell, overcommit by silentwalrus - Words: 10,222 | Canon Universe 

Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena - Words: 26,734 | Post-TWS, Canon Universe 

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn't have much to do when he's not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it's real or if he's starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

Sugar Sweet ♥ from the Red Velvet series by ColorCoated - Words: 173,400 | Modern/Sugar Daddy AU, Age Difference, Slow Burn

"What's your name?" It wasn't even a line. He was just pretty and Bucky wanted a name to go with that face. With that strong jawline. With those deep blue eyes. A little smirk, "Steve."

Awww, Steve. He looked like a Steve. Bucky pursed his lips in a way he hoped was attractive, "You should buy me a drink."

College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Steve and Bucky Go Away for the Weekend (and cook a lot) ♥ by E_Greer -  Words: 30,126 | Canon Universe, Domestic 

In which Steve coaxes Bucky out of the Tower for a birthday weekend away and sweet, fluffy domesticity ensues. Phlintasha helps keep Bucky calm, Steve has Opinions about how you set the table, stories are told, greenhouses are toured, baths are had, books are read, tears are shed, stars are gazed upon, and everyone makes Bucky feel loved. Includes Friday night dinner, Saturday morning breakfast, Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, and Sunday brunch.

Dona Nobis Pacem by thegraytigress - Words: 65,214 | Canon Universe, Recovery 

"This job... We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes it doesn't mean everybody, but if we can't find a way to live with that... Next time maybe nobody gets saved."

An incident on the battlefield exposes how much Steve's falling apart under the crushing weight of leading the Avengers after Sokovia. Now Bucky's adopting a new mission: save Steve before he destroys himself completely, even if it means the end of Captain America.

Give 'Em Hope ♥ by L1av - Words: 130,022 | Modern/Hospital AU, UA/Age Difference 

Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve's better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It's illegal. It's wrong. But it's giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve's going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive. He needs him to.

You belong (to me) by hermionesmydawg - Words: 29,759 | S, DS, Canon Compliant, Post CW

"Hold on." Bucky lifted a finger and backed out of the doorway, returning a moment later with his cell phone. He snapped a photo of Steve, typed a few words, and then returned to his apple. "What the hell were you doing at a sex club last night?"

"Not having sex, if that's what you're wondering." An alert sounded from Steve's nightstand - a new Snapchat message. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone. Sam was always sending stupid Snapchats and frankly, Steve couldn't figure that goddamn app out and cursed whoever created that piece of shit.

The chat wasn't from Sam this time, however. It was a picture of himself, not looking guilty at all, with the caption "when your buddy catches you looking at p*rn."

Circling Back from the It’s Not Linear series by chaya - Words: 59,642 (Series Total: 136,782) | Canon Divergence

Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him.

Continuing Education by 743ish, romanticalgirl - Words: 14,443 | S, Canon Universe/College, Shrunkyclunks 

Steve is invited to be a guest lecturer on the WWII unit for Bucky's college course. Bucky's more than happy to glean any extra knowledge (in more than just history) from Steve, and Steve's happy to eductate him. But then Bucky has to decide if he can handle the fact that Steve throws himself into danger, and if the sex is worth it. Or if it's not just sex anymore.

Salt & Sugar by GoldBlooded, stfustucky - Words: 19,598 | Modern/Restaurant AU

Steve Rogers is a bigshot celebrity chef in New York City, and Bucky Barnes is a classically trained pastry chef in Moscow.

When billionaire and mutual friend Natasha Romanoff calls on them to collaborate for her Memorial Day Benefit Gala, they both brace themselves to spend the week working with some jerk they're bound to hate. Except... Steve makes a burger that could bring Bucky to tears, and Bucky makes tartlets so beautiful Steve's sure they qualify as art. Maybe, just maybe, together they could make this a night to remember.

@/sgtbarnes1917 and @/cptrogers1918 by BayleyWinchester - Words: 114,203 | Canon Universe, Social Media Fic 

Bucky Barnes broke Twitter with one photo

Proprietary Information ♥ from the Additional Information series by notlucy - Words: 85,141 (Series Total: 165,871) | Modern AU, Age difference, Slow Burn

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Deep in the Woods (Where My Heart Has Been Waiting) by SilverMyfanwy - Words: 15,353 | Pioneer-AU, Shrinkyclinks 

Steve Rogers gets lost in the woods in a snowstorm. Bucky Barnes takes him in. Pioneer-era AU ish with Shrinkyclinks, evil chickens and a cabin in the woods.

A Bucky Odyssey by inediblesushi, thorstbench - Words: 9,952 | Shrinkyclinks,  Cap!Bucky, Nurse!Steve  

Bucky Barnes, Captain America, has a plan to make Steve Rogers, SHIELD nurse, fall in love with him. Confiding in the Internet might not be the best idea, though. So when the bad pick up lines do not work and Steve looks determined to staying single, he decides to be more himself and less what he thinks he should be.

At first I wanted to wait to post this until I finished a few more fics from my ever growing read-later list but what the heck, now or never! I’ll probably end up making a part 2 reclist by the amount of fic I’m reading these days. 

Happy reading and stay safe out there fellow Stucky trash members!!

[bigskydreaming]

That last reblog is very informative and useful in figuring out where to find certain storylines. Purely on a personal recommendation note, for anyone looking for good reads and who tends to like my take on things, my recs from that list (and not saying that others I don’t rec aren’t good, just what immediately popped into my head) would be:

Batman: The Long Halloween (yes. its a good)

Batman: Birth of the Demon (if you want to set canon on fire, as many people are wont to do, a good place to start is aggressively ignoring Morrison’s take on Damian’s birth and origin and instead treating this story as his origin and just building off the idea that Talia lied at the end which is waaaaaaaaay better and just like...go from there)

Batman: The Killing Joke (kill it with the fire. we’ve had enough of the killing joke. it can die. even alan moore hates it and he wrote it and alan moore usually loves everything he writes and hates everyone ELSE for like, liking it the wrong way, so I mean, that should tell you a lot)

Batman: The Cult (holy shit I totally forgot about this story and now am off to go reread it again myself)

I have Issues with how ADITF AND A Lonely Place of Dying play out and most popular takes on them, so like, I’m not like, recommending RECOMMENDING them, but I mean like, they are pivotal.

Batman: Knightfall, Legacy, Cataclysm and all things No Man’s Land related have some good stuff throughout all of them. Like, things I don’t like, sure, but overall, there’s a lot of good material in them. Also, a good way to get a strong sense of actual canon Tim, who is not fanon Tim, and who would probably take one look at fanon Tim and go LOL nerd, and kickflip away on his skateboard to go tell Nightwing about this AU version of himself he just met, as like, he actually likes and respects Nightwing, among other differences.

JLA Tower of Babel (its a yawn from me, lads. the source of pretty much all “Batman can beat all of the JLA because he has the greatest superpower of all: PREP TIME!!!” hot takes and I mean, yeah that’s pretty core to Batman and who he is at this point, but the story itself its just like. Eh. Could you not. Idk. Basically I just mean this is all part of an era of JLA that for the most part I actually tend to LIKE Bruce’s interactions with the rest of the team, but then there was this and it was just like. Eh. Could you not).

Bruce Wayne: Murderer? and Bruce Wayne: Fugitive (Quality reads IMO that emphasize the Detective part of the Batfranchise and contain good moments for the whole currently present Batfam, lots of great Cass and Dick stuff in particular. Idk. I havent read them in awhile but I have fond memories)

Batman: Hush (this gets a bad rep and not entirely deserved IMO. Like, its not the greatest story in the world but I like how it portrays Bruce as having flawed dynamics with a lot of his loved ones but not shying away from his role in that but also without overly vilifying him....he’s an appropriately complex character in this, is what I mean, and I also like that this is another story that emphasizes the often lost-and-forgotten Detective part of his core concept. Also, it utilizes some of my fave villains in ways that bring home how much potential certain combinations/team-ups of villains could have if they were utilized more instead of overlooked in favor of ITS TIME FOR THE JOKER AGAIN WHEEEEEEEE!)

Batman: Under the Red Hood (hahahhahaha no. like could you imagine me reccing this? LOL its not realistic. Nah, stick with the animated movie retelling. At least Bruce doesn’t slit his son’s throat in that one to save the damn clown again)

Batman: R.I.P (I reluctantly rec this not because I like it, cuz I don’t, its Morrison back on his bullshit in a most I AM THE MOST GALAXY BRAINED OF ALL THE GALAXY BRAINED AND ALSO IM A CHAOS MAGICIAN DID U KNOW THAT HUH DID YA DID YA, like, fashion. Its. A lot. The story is A Lot. I don’t say that in a complimentary way. BUT I recommend it anyway out of pure stubbornness and Dick Grayson fanboy spite, as its set like, directly before Bruce is believed dead and gets lost in time, and like, A LOT happens to Dick in that story that SHOULD BE extremely relevant and crucial to examinations of his mental and emotional state at the time of him assuming Bruce’s role in the family and as Batman, but that just like....ISN’T, and that annoys me. Also, the primary villain of this, Dr. Hurt, like.....

his grand endgame involved torturing the fuck out of Dick to hurt Bruce specifically, and pretty much the first thing that happens when Bruce DOES come back from being lost in time is Dr. Hurt pops up out of nowhere and shoots Dick in the head, like FIRST THING, like this is the absolute first thing Bruce has to deal with when coming back, and this is just like....NONEXISTENT in most fics about that era. Because lolol how can we blame Dick for everything that went wrong and make Bruce be mad at him for how Dick wronged Tim and Jason and all of Gotham probably, if we’re going by actual canon and thus dealing with the fact that Bruce is preoccupied with hovering over his just-shot-in-the-head-specifically-to-fuck-with-Bruce son’s bedside and WORRYING about him. LOLOL hashtag Fandom Willfully Erases The Majority of Dick’s Canon Traumas Not Because They Want To Set Canon On Fire - they’re usually fine with sticking to every instance of canon in which Dick does something even in the ZIP CODE of wrong - but rather because if we acknowledge Dick’s traumas then eww, he might come across as....sympathetic? No, we can’t have that. ERGO HE WAS NEVER SHOT IN THE HEAD HAHAHAH WE FIXED IT, WE FIXED CANON).

But I digress.

Battle for the Cowl (another reluctant rec because like, its dumb and its bad, but its one of those things that I’d still rather more people read than didn’t, because like it is pivotal and relevant, and it contains key plot points like oh Idk, Arkham literally blowing up as all the currently locked up inmates escape, which led to Dick having Wayne Enterprises rebuild it himself, and like, the only villains present in it when he was Batman being the villains he and Damian CAUGHT while he was Batman, which did NOT include the Joker, and thus all the hot takes about how Dick locked up Jason two doors down from his murderer like the uncaring bastard that he is, like.....instead of the reality that Dick pulled strings to have Jason put in Arkham instead of Blackgate when the POLICE ARRIVED ON SCENE AND LOCKED UP THE ANONYMOUS RED HOOD BECAUSE HE WAS CLEARLY DEFEATED AND CLEARLY A WANTED CRIMINAL AND THUS LIKE, HIS IMPRISONMENT LITERALLY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH DICK OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT DICK DEFEATED JASON RATHER THAN LETTING HIM KILL HIM AND DAMIAN.....

like, its literal canon that Dick explains himself for having Jason put in Arkham instead of Blackgate because it allowed him to keep Jason OUT of gen pop where he had literal dozens of enemies that he, Jason, WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR PUTTING THEM IN THERE HIMSELF, and it was to keep Jason SAFE, and it WORKED as Jason’s only actual canon complaint at that time was that he was BORED. So in conclusion, AS ALWAYS, you can do what you want, but when you literally manufacture the fake fanon - and completely fail to make any effort to establish that this is NOT actual canon and that you’re not actually riffing off of an actual canon moment - that Dick callously locked his brother up a few doors down from his own murderer (the dude that Dick himself literally once beat to death because he killed Jason).....like, inquiring minds would like to know, why are you trying so hard to make Dick look like THIS MUCH of an asshole, hmm?)

Batman: The Gates of Gotham (a weird, but fun little read IMO, that delves deep into the backstory of Gotham, the Waynes, and also Dick’s ancestors the Crownes, and establishes a lot of the history revolving around all of the above, and like, it actually has Dick as Batman and being competent and respected by the rest of the family in that role, and its also one of the only times Cass and Damian interacted one on one, stuff like that)

Batman and Robin Eternal (eww no, kill it also with the fire, burn it, I hate it, uggggggh why is this series so praised, its so baaaaaaaaaaaad, its like what if literally every character involved in it is an asshole to Dick for no valid reason whatsoever.....huh, weird thought, wonder if the fact that its so praised as being so good and Dick’s so hated for weird reasons by a lot of fandom are connected....almost like.....the fiction influenced how people viewed his character....and thus....critical commentary of how the fiction was bad is....relevant....HMM I MUST PONDER THIS STRANGE AND NOVEL THOUGHT).

[closetfanfictionauthor]

a university au in which genya is a fashion major and david is an engineering student and neither of them are brave enough to admit their feelings to each other but it works out in the end anyway.

(i was working on another story but i just finished re-reading the series and then i binged the show and it was just CALLING to me. this was meant to be like 2k words but it quite got away from me)

this is also on ao3

She meets David when she's looking for a table in the university library to complete a paper on fashion history and he is the only one with an available seat. And because she's Genya and beautiful and unafraid to approach anyone, she asks him if he wouldn't mind sharing the table with her.

David gives her a very distracted yes and she flashes him one of her smiles that's sent men stammering before gracefully sliding into the seat.

What she doesn't know is that a glimpse of her was enough to send David's heart into rapid palpitations and his palms immediately begin to sweat. But he's got to stay focused on his problem set because he fears if he looks at her head-on he might actually have a heart attack right where he sits.

And wouldn't that just be embarrassing.

She expects him to ogle at her like men usually do, but from where she's sitting he looks focused on his own problems, a slight wrinkle in his forehead as he glares at his laptop screen and huffs in irritation. But they sit in silence for three hours and David never looks her way. On the rare occasion he can drag his attention away from his screen long enough to notice she's even there, it feels as if he's looking right through her.

And she should feel relieved. Comfortable. Because he's not doing anything to make her feel uncomfortable. It should be nice.

And she's beyond irritated. Genya can't decide if it's because her ego is really that big that it takes offense to the first man who doesn't notice her or if it's because she finds him so attractive it makes her want to burst out of her skin and he's making it very obvious that he's not interested in her.

She doesn't know which one is worse.

He leaves without a word and she has to sit there and force herself to act like she doesn't notice the vacant seat across from her or why, for some reason, she feels so lonely.

Afterwards, Genya begins to notice David all around campus in ways she didn't before. And every time he's always alone, rarely is he surrounded by anyone she could assume is his friend. David never acknowledges her, never says hi, and she likewise pretends she never sees him.

But one day Genya is studying in the library again. At this point she's developed a sixth sense when it comes to David and the second he steps foot into the library, she knows. Her muscles tense and something in Genya's gut is telling her David is here and to look for him.

She forces herself to relax and shrug it off but only a few moments later, a shadow falls over her and she blinks up in confusion. David stands there, fidgeting from foot to foot, his hands traveling from the hem of his crewneck to his hair to the nape of his neck. He looks so uncomfortable and awkward it's endearing and she's tempted between saving him the anxiety and saying something and letting him stew in the feeling.

"Is it alright if I sit with you. Library's full," he mutters quietly, eyes darting around to the others sitting nearby. Genya forces the corners of her mouth not to twitch upwards like they so desperately want to and calmly nods before turning back to her work. Today she's working on sketching some designs for class.

David shrugs out of his bag and pulls out the chair across from her, all the while avoiding eye contact. Genya looks back at her sketch and picks up another colouring pencil. The whole time she pretends like there isn't an available table three tables over, or another one less than five metres behind David. The library is certainly full but it's not that full.

He could sit somewhere else but he chooses to sit with her and that makes her sit up a little straighter.

After about the second hour of working in silence, David starts to fidget. It's like he's working up the courage to do something but can't quite bring himself to do it. Genya can see him shift in his seat but pretends she doesn't notice. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, slouches in his seat before straightening up again. David opens his textbook, stares at the page blankly and then closes it again and turns back to his laptop.

There's a burning need in Genya to ask what he wants, the question is on the tip of her tongue but something about David tells her if she asks he'll shut down.

Finally David clears his throat and when Genya looks at him, he points to one of her sketches and says in a grave tone usually reserved for imparting condolences, "I really like this one, I'm not one for colours or anything but I like the yellow and brown."

It's the most he's ever said...well...ever.

"Thank you, that one's my favourite too," Genya replies warmly, a smile spreading across her face. In truth it wasn't her favourite creation but it was David's favourite and now it was hers.

She thinks that's all he's going to say and turns back to her drawing but David has mustered all his courage and he seems determined to have out with it and asks her, "What are you making these for?"

"It's for my Fashion Design class. I'm a fashion major," Genya says and blushes a pretty pink at the statement. There's nothing wrong with fashion. People wear clothes. They like looking nice. Genya wants to be a part of that process and yet she can't help feeling silly telling people she studies fashion. But David doesn't look at her as if it's stupid or as if she's dumb, an intent look on his face as he gives her all his attention.

"Do you...do you like fashion design? Is it one of your favourite classes?" he asks her awkwardly. She wants to giggle at the way he looks at her as if she's about to impart the meaning of life to him. But Genya stops herself, because David is making an effort. And she doesn't know this man but she's pieced together enough to know that socializing doesn't come easy to David. Knows enough that underneath that quiet almost stern demeanor his heart is probably pounding from making small talk and she won't be the one to hurt his feelings or discourage his attempt.

She just wishes his shyness didn't make her go soft as pudding inside.

"I love it a lot actually. My favourite aspect is that you get to be creative with whatever you want to design, there's no limit and you don't have to worry that anything will be too outlandish because it's just a sketch and you're not actually wasting any fabric on it. They really push you to your limits on this class, always encouraging us to push the boundaries of style and creativity. It doesn't matter how crazy it is just so we can get used to-" Genya stopped abruptly and feels heat spreading across her face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that."

"Why are you apologizing?" David asks, frowning in his confusion.

"I got carried away, I'm sure you were looking for a shorter answer," Genya replies. She might as well have told him she's been told to shut up by other people before for talking too much about her passion.

"If I didn't want to hear your thoughts, then I wouldn't have asked," David says matter-of-factly. He sits patiently, looking at her expectantly. She blinks at him and then continues, stuttering at first and then becoming more confident as David continues to gaze at her, riveted. He doesn't interrupt her as she gushes about her sketches, her ideas, the specifics of fabrics and stitching, even going so far as to ask follow up questions.

What's her favourite fabric to work with, is there a designer she's particularly fond of, what kind of film she thinks has the best costumes? And the questions go on.

"I don't really know what I wanna do after, maybe work for a designer, maybe go into costume design for Hollywood," Genya says, finally going quiet.

"I think you'd be a great costume designer," David says with all sincerity and gives her a wide smile. And saints, that smile. It completely changes his face and does things to her insides that she can't voice.

"You think?" she asks and immediately wants to kick herself. What was that breathy voice that just came out of her.

"Yeah, some of these are so creative and different, I think it would serve you well on a set," David says as he picks up some of her sketches and looks through the drawings.

"Thank you," Genya replies timidly. She's about to ask about David but he gives her one more smile before turning his attention back to his work, the conversation over. She wants to interrupt him and learn all about him but she doesn't want to interrupt him.

They leave the library at the same time, walking side by side without saying anything. Genya can't stop herself from glancing at him every few seconds from the corner of her eye. David on the other hand looks deep in thought, like he isn't walking next to her at all. She desperately wants to see him again, wants to reach out and touch his hand but she thinks about it so long her nerves get the better of her and never does a thing about it.

"See you next time," David says at the exit, and then turns around and leaves without waiting for a response.

"We...will?" Genya asks the thin hair because David is gone before she has even comprehended what he's said.

She spends the rest of her day in a daze and then the following days afterward she asks herself if the whole incident in the library actually happened. But then she sees David in the hallway and he nods in her direction and she flushes like she's a girl of fifteen all over again. And then he begins to smile in her direction and Genya becomes so flustered she finds herself walking into pillars and water fountains on multiple occasions.

Genya sees David at least a dozen times a day, more than she has ever seen him before. Part of her wonders if he passes by the places that he's figured out she's going to be in most often. The library becomes their meeting spot. Genya spends as much time there as possible in the hopes that David will show up to see her. It comes to the point where her friend starts to complain that they never see her because she's constantly studying.

"Why are you even in the library this often, you're a fashion major," Alina whines one day when Genya announces she's off to the library.

"Fashion majors need to read," Genya replies defensively. She's shoving books into her bag when Alina reaches over and grabs the opening to stop her.

"Of course fashion majors need to read but you spend every waking second in the library, not even the history students are in there that often," Alina points out. "Is there something you're not telling me about?"

"No," Genya replies too quickly and now she sounds even guiltier. Alina has a knowing look in her eyes.

"There is someone, isn't there," Alina pounces, a gleam in her eye. She leans forward, arms crossed on the table between the two friends.

"There isn't anyone, I just really enjoy the...atmosphere," Genya says. The excuse sounds lame even to her own ears but it's the only thing she can say. What else is there to enjoy about the library.

"Genya you're the most outgoing person I know, sitting quietly in a library for hours on end is the very last thing you'd do. I can't even get you to go to a bookstore with me," Alina scoffs. Genya might have been able to get away with her evasiveness if David hadn't passed by at that very moment.

Her face lights up in happiness at the sight of him, a smile overtaking her face before she's even registering her response to him.

David smiles in return and nods his head and says, "Hey," in passing.

"Hi," she quietly breaths back but he's gone before he can hear it. Genya's gaze immediately snaps back to Alina and her friend looks back at her, smug.

"Oh I see," she says, the picture of ease, slouched low in her chair, legs spread out before her. Genya scowls back at her.

"Not a word," she snaps back mortified.

"No, no, what is there to say," Alina replies nonchalantly. "I just never mistook you for someone to go for the whole quiet nerd vibe."

"David is lovely," Genya says defensively.

"I never said he wasn't, I just said he was nerdy."

A beat of silence.

"Do you know anything about him?" Genya finally asks grudgingly.

"I'm the last person you should be asking," Alina says with a snort. "Mal would probably know more though."

"Oh yes, Mal, your little friend, and how is Mal, your friend, doing?" Genya asks, widening her eyes innocently. Alina blanches, her face going white.

"You know what, maybe you should go to the library, go there as often as you want. We're really not that close," she says. Genya lets out a cackle and wiggles her fingers goodbye before setting off.

***

"So why did you pick engineering?" Genya asks him one day. They've finally progressed to getting coffee together instead of sitting in the library all the time. The social setting makes her more comfortable but she can see the way David's shoulders are tense and he shifts in his chair restlessly.

"I like making things with my hands. Seeing a bunch of pieces and putting them together, like a puzzle," he says. "And you know, machines aren't complicated."

Genya blinks at him.

"I mean, they're not complicated in the way that people are complicated," he amends. "I've never really liked big groups of people or parties, they're so noisy, you can't hear anyone, no one can finish a sentence without being interrupted, so I just keep to myself. It's easier that way."

"But don't you get lonely?"

David turns his head towards the sun streaming in and thinks for a moment. Genya can't help but be distracted by the way the sun turns his hair brown or admire the angle of his jaw, or his nose, or his full lips. Especially his lips. What a shame they're not attached to her. Or her neck, moving down towards her ...

David. Talking. Genya blinks rapidly and pushes the thoughts of David's mouth on her neck (among other places) away to focus on what he's saying.

"Not lately. But I like spending time on my own, I don't have to worry about talking all of the time or thinking about something interesting to say. There's no pressure to be entertaining."

And while Genya hears the rest, her mind is stuck on the not lately part. She's pretty sure he means since meeting her but she's too shy to ask even though she knows David wouldn't think it embarrassing.

"And people are always saying things they don't mean," he goes on frowning. "I can never understand how dating is supposed to work. My brothers try to explain it to me but it sounds like a lot of saying what you don't mean and expecting someone to figure out what you're not saying. You can't do certain things because it makes you look needy or too eager, which makes no sense to me because wouldn't you want the person you like to know you like them?"

This is the most he's ever said to Genya she's pretty sure. Her heart leaps at the idea that he's comfortable enough around her to say these things. Her heart leaps at the way his arms looked crossed in front of him the way that they do in that snug shirt.

"That's true, it's one of the nice things about you though," she replies and when he looks at her in confusion she adds, "I can just say what I mean and what I want and you won't think I'm weird for it."

She swears she sees his cheeks turn the barest shade of pink although his brown skin hides it well.

"I think you have class, I'll walk with you," he says, clearing his throat and the two of them leave the shop together. He does that a lot lately, walking her to class that is. Genya has taken to walking him to his. She definitely doesn't stand outside the room watching his butt as he walks away from her.

Neither of them feels the need to comment on anything as they walk side by side towards the arts building.

They're at the door of her classroom, and David is in the middle of saying goodbye, when one of Genya's classmates shoves David's shoulder to get past them. The man looks Genya up and down and shoots her a wink before disappearing into the room.

Genya turns to David about to apologize when she sees the scowl he sends towards her classmate. It's the first time she's ever seen David anything other than neutral and serene and the fact that it's on her behalf makes her giddy.

"Who's that?" David asks. Genya has never been gladder of his earnest manner more than this moment. It's gratifying to hear the note of jealousy because it means she's not the only one at odds and ends in this budding friendship they have. She shouldn't like it but she does. Alina would have her head if she heard such nonsense.

"Oh just some classmate," she says with a shrug. "He does this all the time. He's quite harmless."

At least she thinks, although the man in question is a little too persistent for her tastes but surely he can only mean the flirting as a joke.

"I have to go," David says abruptly and marches off in a determined manner, leaving Genya behind wondering what's just happened.

She hopes he's not mad at her and agonizes over his behaviour the whole class, completely missing the topic at hand. When she eventually leaves, she's so miserably anxious she doesn't know what to do with herself. Genya is about to call Alina and beg her for advice but never gets the chance to decide because David is standing outside the door.

He thrusts a large bouquet of flowers at her before Genya has a chance to say anything and instinctively she reaches out to take them so they don't fall on the ground.

"For you," David says without ceremony. Genya blinks in bewilderment at him and looks between the flowers and his solemn face.

"Ah….thank you, these are beautiful," Genya says. She's sincere about the compliment but her brain is still playing catch up with her and can't quite get past the beautiful flowers and that David got them for her.

"They're red amaryllis," David offers and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It reminds me of your hair."

She can feel tears gathering in her eyes because this is the sweetest thing anyone has done for her and she's not quite sure what she's done to deserve this man. David notices the watering eyes and his brows furrow in alarm.

"I'm sorry if you don't like them. I didn't mean to make you cry, I'll take them back," he says miserably, reaching for them. Genya moves them out of his reach.

"These are happy tears, don't you dare take these away from me. No take backs," Genya says, clutching the flowers to her chest. David relaxes and sends her one of his disarming smiles.

The gestures continue. David brings her coffee, or snacks. Sometimes he'll even hand over his own food because he sees her looking at it just a little too long in the library. Genya buys him lunch or dinner. She seeks him out in the library if she knows he's been hard at work studying and reminds him to go home. She tells him tidbits and facts that she thinks he might like. She gives him her hat if he says he's cold, and he gives her his gloves because he knows her hands are always cold.

Genya brings him little oddities she finds when she's out shopping, and David gives her books on the collections of famous fashion houses. He invites her over to his house and she bakes cookies with his mom and makes plans for a shopping trip with his sister. David agrees to meet Alina and Mal and immediately he and Mal become the best of friends.

Now when Genya arrives in the library before him, he chooses to sit next to her instead of across the table. Sometimes he throws his arm across the back of her chair casually. Sometimes the hand of that arm will unconsciously trace patterns up and down the side of Genya's arm.

Genya doesn't know how to ask him to go on a date even though they're doing things that couples do, but it seems the universe wants the two of them together even more than she does.

It happens when she's on the way to the library one evening to meet up with David. They're planning on studying together, he needs help with an English paper due in a few days, and Genya wants to spend time with him. The fact that she's not that good at writing English papers is not important.

The sun is starting to set, and she's been trying to shake off the man who shoved into David that one day but he's either not getting the hint or he's choosing to ignore them. She tries to make excuses to leave so they'll go their separate ways, but he conveniently also has nowhere to be. Genya gives curt responses and purposely makes it seem as if she's not paying attention to what he's saying. She gives dry responses to his flirtations in the hopes to deter him. When he stands too close, she very obviously puts space between them.

And now he's following her to the library and Genya is praying he leaves her alone because she's got a sneaking suspicion he's going to wait around until she leaves the library and then follow her home.

Eventually he gets to the point and asks for a date.

"You're very lovely," Genya lies through her teeth. Her smile is more of a grimace at this point. "But I'm not all that interested."

"Come on, just one date," he says, taking a step toward her. Genya takes a step back. His tone is light but she's on her guard and she knows how quickly that good humour can turn sour.

"No thank you," she insists. When he opens his mouth to say something else, she blurts out, "I have a boyfriend, his name is David. I'm on the way to see him at the library."

She doesn't know why she says it, it's the only thing she can think of, the only thing that's always worked in the past a hundred percent of the time. And as if she's summoned him herself, David appears as if from nowhere. Her knight in….well not exactly shining armour but in his favourite crewneck at least.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long, sweetheart," David's voice says. He rounds the corner, his mouth set in a grim line as he stares down the man cornering Genya. The endearment sounds a little stilted coming from him, but the natural way he puts his arm around Genya's waist and leans in to kiss her cheek makes up for it.

She feels the tension leak out of her at the contact. David is here and she's not alone, she's safe and he'll take care of this. She leans into his side, absorbing the warmth coming from him and puts her head on his shoulder.

"Hello darling, I was just picking up dinner for you," she replies as lovingly as possible. She looks up at him like he's her hero (she doesn't even have to pretend) and burrows into his side even more.

"How thoughtful of you," David replies warmly. He leans down and gives her a long, sweet kiss that sends her knees quaking. Her classmate thoroughly forgotten, David steers the two of them away from the man and they continue on to the library. Once they're far enough away, Genya lets out a long sigh.

"Thank the saints you showed up, I didn't know what I was going to do about him," Genya says. David rubs his hand up and down her back as the two of them walk.

"The nerve of him to ask out my girlfriend," David huffs. Genya drags the two of them to a halt and stares at David unblinking.

"Your what?" she asks, thinking she's misheard.

"My girlfriend," David repeats, a little slower this time as if she's hard of hearing.

"Since when am I your girlfriend?" Genya asks because she's fairly certain she would've remembered something that monumental. But no, she's certain he never asked.

"Since I brought you flowers after class?" David asks as if he's beginning to doubt himself. "I mean what have we been doing if not dating?"

"David you never asked me to be your girlfriend," Genya insists. Not that she minds the presumption but there are rules to these things.

"I didn't realize I was supposed to, I thought it was obvious. Of course you're my girlfriend, why else would I bring you home to my mom," David says, head tilted to the side. He's looking at her as if she's recently had a brain injury.

Genya's mouth has dropped open as she processes this new development. She doesn't know whether to whoop in elation or burst into song or start dancing or leap onto David right now and ravish him.

"David, you were supposed to ask," she insists and suddenly the whole ordeal is hilarious. Genya's biting her lip to stop from laughing but her shoulders are starting to shake from holding it in. It's all just so ridiculous.

Here she was agonizing over whether he wanted her and the whole time David already thought they were dating.

"Oh, do you not want to be my girlfriend then?" he asks, worry creeping into his tone. He deflates and the look of dejection on his face makes Genya want to shower him with kisses to make it go away.

"No, that's not what I meant. I- never mind, we're dating, I'm your girlfriend," Genya says with a roll of her eyes.

"But you just said-"

She cuts David off by wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands digging into his hair, and pulls his lips down to hers for a proper kiss.

"Forget what I said, okay," she says breathlessly. "You were right we've definitely been dating this whole time."

"Yes ma'am," he agrees in bewilderment. "You know we should be doing a lot more kissing since we're boyfriend and girlfriend."

Genya can't help but beam at him. "I completely agree. More kissing. Lots more kissing. In fact, I propose we go back to my room and play catch up. We've got a lot of kissing to make up for."

[cloudywriter]

i never got to say i love you - 2

~~~

A/N: heyy i wanted to update vanilla pudding cups but i’ve really kinda hit a block in that story so enjoy this while i move pass my stump with the other story. also i’m working on some masterlist so navigating stories will be easier!

masterlist & AO3 

also here’s my other feysand au if you would like to check that out! -> vanilla pudding cups

~~~

As classes begin to start up Feyre finds herself adjusting well to her new schedule. Most days she has one or two classes in the morning and one or two in the afternoon. Alis almost always brings her some lunch or snacks as she spends every free moment she has in the studio. If it weren’t for Alis she’s convinced she might’ve accidentally starved to death by now. 

Honestly, Feyre hadn’t made many friends besides Alis who she had grown pretty close with. She had brief conversations with Mor in the hallways and had eventually met her roommate, Viviane, but most of the time she saw Mor outside of the dorm building she was with that group of boys from the dining hall. Yes, the same group of boys Alis still managed to bring up every other day, especially when they’d first seen Mor walking with them very comfortably. Alis was convinced Mor would be their way in. 

What Feyre had never told Alis was a week ago Mor had invited them to come play monopoly in her dorm one Friday night with said boys, Viviane, and her boyfriend, Kallias. Feyre had declined. 

Mor is always extremely sweet and a constant ray of sunshine but so much so it unnerved Feyre a bit, she could easily turn into one of those girls Feyre avoided like the plague in high school. Viviane is similar, but a bit more subdued, however Mor was completely right about her being with her boyfriend more often than not. 

At the moment Feyre was making her way back from her last class of the day to her dorm, mentally preparing herself to pull an all-nighter. She had an assignment due for her drawing class that she had been putting off for weeks until the due date had crept up on her. Therefore, Feyre now had approximately 12 hours to draw an entire portrait. Mostly she had procrastinated up until this point because she just had no idea who she wanted to draw and her options were already limited.

When she finally arrived at her dorm room, having stopped at the vending machine for snacks on the way, she pushed the door open, threw her bag on her bed, and slumped in her desk chair, letting out a loud sigh. 

She was hunched over her sketchbook feeling utterly defeated only a few hours later. The sun was beginning to set which had her hopeful, usually she did her best work in the dead of night anyway. But her fingers ached from gripping her pencil so long and she wasn’t sure she could sit up straight without an immense pain flaring in her back, even her neck and shoulders felt stiff. Not to mention, her efforts only produced a half dozen crumpled balls in the trash and a mound of eraser shreds. 

Luckily, Feyre started to get her rhythm back as the night progressed, it was dark out now the only lights coming from the city buildings surrounding the campus. Alis had yet to return which she found a little odd but it was safe to assume she was studying late in the library. 

Unluckily though, the dorm next to her, Mor’s dorm, was getting increasingly noisy with the darkening sky. The constant sound of muffled voices, laughing, and music poured through the wall. 

Feyre was about halfway done with her portrait which had turned into a drawing of Alis, it had started coming together nicely but the added distraction of all the commotion next door was throwing her off her game. She’d been debating with herself for half an hour now whether or not she should say something to Mor; she knew Mor would probably tone it down if she asked. 

At last, nearly two hours later, Feyre was at her absolute breaking point. She hadn’t made much of a dent in the rest of her sketch throughout those hours due to the ever growing disruptions. How Mor had not gotten a noise complaint yet she did not know. The music was louder, the voices went back and forward between intense bickering and cheering, and even random slamming sounds could be heard every once in a while. 

Feyre tried desperately to tune out her surroundings but just as she was finding success a loud banging on the wall followed by yelling brought her right back. She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Before her mind even processed what her body was doing Feyre found herself outside of Mor’s door knocking with intent. She heard a frenzy of shushing and the music turned down a few notches. 

The door then swung open.

“Hey, sorry - oh, you’re not the RA.”

A hulk of a man stood in the doorway dressed in a tight black t-shirt and batman pajama pants. The man flashed her a big shit-eating grin. Feyre thought there was something familiar about him.

“What brings you around here, sweetheart?” He added, leaning against the door.

That’s when the familiarity donned on Feyre. He was one of the boys from the dining hall, specifically the one who had half his hair up. She also then realized it was in fact Friday night, game night for them.

She had yet to respond to the boy but made herself look up to meet his gaze, making sure she had her best scowl on. He was quite tall.

“You look cute when you’re trying to look angry.” He smirked at her. His eyes dragged up and down her body slowly, intimately. Fuck, Feyre noticed too late she had really left her room with only a random cropped band t-shirt on, barely there baby blue shorts, mismatching socks, glasses, and her hair wrapped around itself in a ridiculously messy bun with only a chunky wool beige cardigan thrown over herself. 

“I’m not cute.”

“I beg to differ, sweetheart.” He winked at her.

“Don’t call me that,” Feyre ground out.

“Sure, I can switch up pet names. What would you rather instead?” He raised his brows at her in question. 

Before Feyre could stomp on his toes Mor came up from behind him, a red solo cup in hand. “Stop bothering Feyre with your incessant flirting, you brute.”

“Feyre, you say? I don’t believe we’ve met.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with her.

“Right.” Mor opened the door wider causing the man to stumble and shoot her a glare, Mor only giggled. Now that Feyre could see inside she noticed the small foldable table set up in the center of the room and an array of uno cards scattered across the floor. “Okay, well you’ve kinda met Cassian, he’s an ass. But this is Azriel, Rhysand, and Amren,” she spoke, indicating to each person with her hand. 

Azriel gave her a small, half smile while Amren gave her a disinterested wave of the hand. 

Rhysand, however, studied her with an intense gaze that Feyre returned. She hadn’t seen the front of his face up close until now and she could not say she was disappointed whatsoever. Gods, he was like a greek god or something. He looked as if his face and body had been expertly sculpted out of the finest marble. He had black hair that was longer on top and adorably tousled, eyes that were such a specific shade of deep blue they might appear violet in some lights, and bronzed skin. Azriel and Cassian were definitely not bad on the eyes but Rhysand was just something else in her mind. It didn’t hurt he was also wearing the batman pajama bottoms.

Feyre might’ve thought he was having a similar inner monologue to her own but the harsh reality of what she was wearing right now, her bare face, and her hair’s state had her banishing that possibility. He too seemed as if he were in a bit of a daze, studying her. 

“And this guys is Feyre. She lives next door,” Mor finished off. 

Cassian gave Rhysand’s ribs a sharp jab. Rhysand looked a bit startled at first but recovered swiftly, giving Feyre a small tilt of his head in acknowledgment. “Well, it is lovely to finally meet you, Feyre,” Cassian smiled at her. 

Feyre nodded her head, still a little distracted by Rhysand. “You too, sorry for interrupting.” 

“No, no, you’re all good. I’m really sorry were we being too loud? Were you trying to sleep?” Mor asked so sweetly and genuinely Feyre almost felt bad for coming to ask her to quiet down in the first place.

“I-I no, um, it’s alright actually. Have a good night.” Feyre stammered, turning on her heel to end this embarrassing exchange. 

She heard Mor reply with the same sentiment before disappearing back into her dorm. She closed the door and leaned her head against the solid wood. 

That was not the smoothest interaction she’s ever had, that’s for sure. 

She sat back down at her desk and stared at her work before picking up her pencil once more. It was substantially quieter now, Mor must’ve known what had bothered Feyre in the first place. 

She tried to finish her sketch of Alis but her inspiration to do so had dissipated. With that, Feyre turned to the next page, letting her mind take over as her pencil flowed across the paper. She was somewhat aware of who she was now outlining but couldn’t find it in herself to stop. When she got an idea or saw something that intrigued her she had to draw it, like an itch that wouldn’t go away until it gets scratched. 

In record time a completed portrait stared back at her, more specifically Rhysand’s stupid, perfect face stared back at her. Feyre groaned and put her head in her hands.

~~~

please leave feedback & let me know if you wanna be tagged!

[carewyncromwell]

Ficlet: This’ll Be the Day That I Die [Part 1]

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...Okay, this is all @dat-silvers-girl​’s fault. XD She wrote some good!Rakepick fic, and...well, I got inspired!

I really don’t see Rakepick as someone who could conceivably be “good” exactly, but I still wouldn’t put it past Jam City to try to turn her into the game’s Snape where she was “really on the side of good all along” (and we ALL know how well the fandom has accepted that rationale for why Snape’s actually a noble hero *snort*). But yeah, so this ficlet will explore a quasi-sympathetic Rakepick -- a gray interpretation that people could find some pity or sympathy for, but not really a hero. This story is set at the end of year 6, around and in the Sunken Vault. Just like that...other Sunken Vault-centric sixth-year AU ficlet I wrote...heh...

A few things to keep in mind about year 6 for my MC Carewyn Cromwell’s story, since I haven’t fully written all this yet --

Post-Redacted, Ben, Merula, and Carewyn have all started their journeys back from their respective extremes and grown from their bad experiences. Ben has realized that he and his friends aren’t invincible and, although he’s still reckless and determined to protect, he feels the need to atone for his past mistakes. Merula, although still stubborn, angry, and vengeful, has realized that she doesn’t want any more of her friends to die, and so has sort of gotten over the whole “I don’t need you” thing. Carewyn has realized that she can’t take the burden of fighting R squarely on her shoulders and that shutting her friends out makes them less safe, as well as started to open up and rely on her friends more. And the three of them, Charlie, and Bill (the other two people who were present in the Portrait Vault) all have a hand in founding the Circle of Khanna, with the other four all rallying around Carewyn as leader. As shown in Carewyn’s previous gameplays, Carewyn and Rakepick also have a running “foil” dynamic in my storyline, with both having a lot in common in how they behave and attract others to them, and you’d best believe that’s going to be touched on here.

I would also like to credit @missnight0wl​ for developing the concept of both a Fake and Real!Jacob, which I reference briefly in this, even if I sort of took it in a slightly different direction (you can read more about my thoughts on that theory applied to Jacob and Carewyn Cromwell’s storyline here, if you want). You're awesome, hon! <3

Hope you enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a struggle for Carewyn, Jae, and Tonks to escape R in Knockturn Alley. With help from Jacob, who’d swooped in at the last minute, they’d managed to escape and take the Floo Network back to Hogwarts.

As soon as the two Cromwells, Jae, and Tonks arrived back at school, they rushed out onto the grounds to find the others.

“Carey!”

Bill rushed over, Diego and Chiara at his heels.

The eldest Weasley swooped down on Carewyn (still disguised as Patricia Rakepick) and snatched her up in a relieved hug. Chiara and Diego halted on either side of Bill, both of them hovering around Carewyn too.

“Carewyn, are you hurt?” Chiara asked at once, her gray eyes sweeping over Carewyn and searching for injuries.

“I’m alright,” Carewyn assured her with Rakepick’s voice, squeezing Bill’s back in return. “We’re all alright...”

“Thank goodness!” breathed Diego. His face was unusually pale as he gave Carewyn’s shoulder a light squeeze. “You gave us a scare, sweet General!”

“Your hour was almost up, and you hadn’t gotten back yet,” said Chiara, her voice much quieter than Diego’s, but no less anxious. “We thought you might run out of time...”

As Bill pulled out of the hug at last, he blinked at the sight of his best friend’s red-robed brother, whose blue eyes were narrowed critically on Bill’s face.

“Jacob?” he said in surprise.

“Rakepick ended up crashing the meeting while I was still there,” Carewyn explained. The Polyjuice Potion she’d taken was wearing off, making her slowly shrink as she shed her Rakepick disguise. “R cornered me, but Tonks and Jae came and got me, and we were able to escape. Jacob helped us fend off Rakepick.”

“And that weirdo fake Jacob,” said Tonks with a deep frown. “Who was that guy, Carey?”

“Blaise Cromwell,” Jacob answered for Carewyn, his voice a very cold murmur. “He’s Mum’s younger brother -- prospective heir of the Cromwell clan.”

“Mum’s brother?” said Carewyn, startled. Her voice still sounded like Rakepick’s, but the lines on her face had faded and her bangs were growing back now.

Jacob nodded. “He’s been using Polyjuice Potion for months now, stalking around Hogwarts, pretending to be me. Through Ashe I’d heard something about Pince and Filch having seen me near the library a while back -- I haven’t entered the castle since I was expelled, so I knew something was up. I’d only just figured out what was going on when I found you.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened in realization.

“A while ago, I met someone who looked like you in your old room with Sickleworth, who had a White Quill from R. At the time I’d assumed it was you -- but if that was Mum’s brother...is that why he tried to convince me to join, when R captured me? Because we’re family?”

Jacob nodded again, his blue eyes darkening with a bitter, almost demonic kind of anger. “Old Grandpops Cromwell knew you’d never join R of your own free will -- but they knew you’d do anything to try to help me. Originally they’d thought to blackmail me into their ranks, and then, through me, coax you to join. Once they had both of us trapped, they could also snag Mum. But, well, then I ‘went rogue,’ so they had to get crafty.”

“Then you were with R?” said Jae, raising his eyebrows suspiciously.

Jacob’s eyes fell to the ground in shame. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat.

“...Yes,” he said at last, his voice barely more than a murmur.

Carewyn had finally finished transforming back into herself. With a flick of her wand, she quickly adjusted the sizing of the Rakepick-inspired ensemble Andre had made for her, and took hold of Jacob’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

“None of that matters now,” she said very firmly, her gaze moving over the others. “I was able to pinch this, while everyone in R still thought I was Rakepick.”

She held up the greenish coral key. Jacob’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“The key to the Sunken Vault!”

“It looks just like one I took from Sickleworth last year,” Carewyn assented, as she took out the other key from the inside of her robes with the same hand, holding them both up so the others could see. “They’re a matched set. The one I found unlocks the outside door: this one -- ”

“Unlocks the inside door!” finished Jacob, looking excited and relieved beyond belief. “The one to the chamber that contains the final pillar -- Pip, you’re brilliant!”

Everyone turned to look at Jacob, their eyebrows all furrowed with interest.

“You know what the inside of the Vault looks like?” said Tonks.

“Then you’ve been there before,” surmised Chiara softly.

Jacob’s excitement and relief ebbed from his face, making him look much more grim.

“When I was still at school, trying to unlock the secret of the Vaults, and break the curses...my friends and I reached the Sunken Vault pretty early on,” he explained. “We had reason to believe that it was the real one, with the others all being decoys -- so we thought to bypass the fakes and break any and all curses they could inflict by going straight to the real one. But...”

Jacob’s voice quieted noticeably. His head fell, obscuring his eyes in the shadow of his bangs.

“...we miscalculated.”

Carewyn shifted to rest her shoulder against her brother’s. Jacob gave her a soft, grateful smile.

“The leader said,” Carewyn plowed on, “that the final pillar contains the Vaults’ so-called ‘treasure’ -- and that once we get inside, all we have to do is touch the pillar to open it, just like the others.”

“And once we open the pillar, that should break the Statue Curse,” said Bill, “just like with the other Vaults.”

“One could deduce that, yes,” said Jacob dryly, before turning to Carewyn with much more visible concern in his face. “We’ll have to move fast, Pip – once R discovers their key is missing, they’ll no doubt be right behind us, to try to get it back...”

Carewyn nodded solemnly.

“We don’t have any time to lose,” she agreed. She turned to Bill. “Are the others all assembled?”

“We split into teams around the Lake’s perimeter,” said Bill with a nod. “Ben’s with Tulip, Andre, Fred, and George on the left side, closest to the school – Merula’s with Ismelda, Beatrice, Penny, and Cedric at the back, closest to the Willow – and Charlie’s with Barnaby, Liz, Talbott, and Badeea on the right side, by the Forest.”

“Ben and Merula decided that, once you got back, we would gather together, if anyone shoots up gold sparks – return to the school, if they shoot up red – and prepare to enter the Vault, if they shoot up green,” said Diego, as his lips spread into a roguish smile. “We await your orders, General.”

Biting back an amused smile at Diego’s usual “charmer” air, Carewyn turned to Jae and Tonks, who both looked determined, and then to Chiara, who gave her a soft, encouraging smile. Carewyn then gave Jacob and Bill a small smile before she very purposefully took ten paces toward the Lake.

With a deep breath, she raised her laurel wand in a high arc over her head.

“Verdimillious!”

A green flare shot out of Carewyn’s wand before bursting apart into a dozen little green sparkles that rained through the air.

~*~

“Here, Pip – take a sip of this.”

Still struggling to breathe, Carewyn took the potion bottle Jacob offered her and took a quick swig. She gasped for air as her gills sealed up and oxygen once again flooded her lungs.

“Thanks,” she breathed.

Jacob passed the bottle next to Merula, then to Ben, and Charlie. He let Charlie pass it to Bill.

Charlie clutched his throat as he took a large gulp of air.

“Whew – that’s not pleasant. Maybe we should’ve gone with the Bubble Head Charm, like the others...”

“Aw, but that’d be too easy!” said Jacob with a grin. “Besides, gillyweed gives you flippers as well as gills – you saw how much faster we were able to swim, compared to the others...”

“Jacob’s right,” said Bill as he cleared his throat. “I’m glad Penny thought to collect some from Snape’s storeroom, even just for a few of us.”

Carewyn straightened up, holding her wand aloft, as she looked at where they’d arrived.

Through the free-standing set of doors at the center of the underwater stone garden at the bottom of the lake was the Sunken Vault. It was a massive chamber, one larger than any of the others, with a very high ceiling and walls made of sea-green-tinted glass. It was also filled with countless clusters of stone statues – dozens upon dozens of petrified witches and wizards, frozen in time.

Little by little, the rest of the Circle of Khanna entered in clumps behind their ringleaders. Andre and Carewyn exchanged a look as he came up beside her and looked out over the mass of statues.

“There’s got to be over a hundred of them...” the Style Wizard murmured, half awed and half intimidated by the sight.

“I notice they’re all facing the door,” said Talbott grimly. He indicated the statues and then the double doors behind them with a nod of his head.

“And a lot of them look like they’re running, look,” Badeea pointed out softly, “as if they're trying to escape...”

Ben cast his gaze over the green-tinted glass ceiling, his eyes narrowing critically. “That’s got to mean there’s some sort of trap in here – something that could petrify you if you get too close, or make a wrong move – ”

“Guess I should’ve expected fighting a couple dozen grindylows and a giant monster squid would be the easy part,” said Ismelda sardonically.

“His name is Toby, thank you very much,” said Fred airily.

“Tobias Tentacalino the Third,” added George.

“You named the Giant Squid?” Cedric asked, stuck somewhere between gawking and laughing.

“Well, it would've been rude to keep yelling 'Hey, you ugly brute!' at him, wouldn't it?”

Carewyn looked up at Jacob, ready to ask him what he thought should be their next move, but he’d already walked a good five paces in front of them, stopping in front of one of the statues. His wand arm had gone slack at his side as he studied its face.

Carewyn came up beside her brother to look at the statue too.

It was of a very pretty girl who only looked about a year older than Percy, with the largest, most striking eyes Carewyn had ever seen. Her short hair seemed to flap behind her despite being made of stone and she had her mouth open and a hand out in front of her, as if she was yelling at someone to get back. Most notably, this statue -- unlike the others in the room -- wasn’t wearing robes, but slightly outdated bell-bottoms, jellies, and an open vest over a collared shirt with a Hogwarts tie tied loosely around the neck.

This one was newer than the others – and as Carewyn looked over the statue’s anxiously exclaiming face and then her brother’s miserable, shame-filled expression, her eyes widened.

“Olivia Green,” she breathed.

“Who’s Olivia Green?” asked Merula in rather blunt confusion.

Jacob bowed his head, his lips curling up in an odd, haunted smile.

“The most unassuming, yet soothing presence you could find anywhere in the world,” he said softly. “A talented writer – a stellar guitarist...a free spirit with a laugh like a fairy’s and an appetite like a Puffskein’s...who never felt the need to show off her intelligence, even if she’d likely read even more books than me and she was wiser than witches five times her age. Never the most popular girl at school in a social sense – but admired by just about everyone for her sensibility, her patience...her unapologetic individuality...”

His blue eyes grew a little smaller as he brought a hand up to the statue’s extended, warning hand and placed his open palm against hers.

“...She was...one of the only friends I’ve ever had.”

He managed to keep his voice from cracking, but Carewyn could tell it was a struggle. She immediately reached out and wrapped both of her arms around her brother’s wand arm at his side, squeezing it to show support. Jacob glanced at her, his eyes rippling with pain even as he attempted a weak smile.

“When Ashe, Olivia, and I arrived here, back in our fifth year,” he murmured, his eyes once again drifting to Olivia’s anxious stone face, “we tried to open the interior door without the second key -- Alohomora – Bombarda – I even tried Transfiguring it so there’d be a big enough hole that we could walk through. But all our efforts did...was activate the Petrification Curse in full. The door shot spells in all directions. We tried to duck and cover at first – but once one of the spells grazed Olivia’s wand and turned it to stone, we realized it was too dangerous to stay, and we tried to retreat. We almost made it...but just before Olivia could reach the door...one of the spells hit her square in the back.”

Jacob closed his eyes, his eyebrows knitting tightly over them as if he was trying to block out the memory from his mind’s eye.

“I tried to pick her up, to carry her out, but she was turning to stone too fast. Her feet were already locked to the ground. She pushed me off her and told Ashe and me to go...to save ourselves...”

His fist holding his wand clenched at his side, shaking visibly.

Penny came up on Jacob's other side, looking from him to the statue of Olivia with pity in her eyes.

“So you and Duncan kept going after the other Vaults...because you wanted to break the curse on Olivia,” she whispered. “To save your friend.”

Jacob gave a single, ashamed nod.

“It’s my fault Olivia’s parents have lost their daughter all these years. If I hadn’t suggested opening the Vaults out of order – if I hadn’t suggested mucking around with the door...none of it would’ve happened. I couldn’t not try to make it right. But then of course R tangled Ashe and me up in their web trying to get to the Vaults themselves, and...well, you know what happened after that.”

Carewyn nodded sadly. After that, Duncan had died while working on a dangerous potion for R, presumably to deal with the Cursed Vaults...and, of course, Jacob had been expelled, only to then end up trapped in a portrait and being left in the Portrait Vault for seven years by Rakepick.

'After everything Jacob already went through, for Rakepick to use and betray him like that...'

She felt another stab of resentment toward the ex-Professor.

Ben came up on Carewyn's other side, his brown eyes solemn.

“We'd better get moving.”

Carewyn exhaled through her nose, but nodded, releasing Jacob's arm gently.

“Yes,” she agreed, her tone becoming much more authoritative as she turned back to the others. “We don't have much time – R is going to figure out that their key is missing, and when they do, they'll be heading for Hogwarts looking for us. I don't know if they know we have the other key – but I don't want to wait to find out how long it'll take for them to figure out we've come down here. I'll need some volunteers to stay here at the perimeter, so that they can warn us if anyone's coming.”

“Leave that to us, Carewyn Cromwell,” said Tulip, sharing a broad grin with Tonks. “You know we can give any 'unwanted guests' a proper welcome.”

“Maybe I should stand guard too,” said Liz, “just outside the doors. “That way I can keep an eye on the creatures in the Lake – if they're acting strangely, it'll tell us someone's coming.”

Carewyn nodded to Liz. “That's a good idea.”

“I'll help you keep an eye out, Liz,” Barnaby said with a determined smile. “And if anyone does come, I can help hold them off – with my wand and these!”

He punched his palm with a light clap to make his point. Carewyn gave him a large, proud smile.

“You can always send up red sparks, if there's trouble,” said Charlie. “Then we can come help.”

“Might take a bit of time for you to go help them, if there is,” Jacob pointed out grimly. “This chamber's a good hundred feet long...and these statues are spaced so close together, it's not easy to navigate quickly.”

Carewyn's eyes drifted across the field of stone statues and the doors as she considered this.

“Any thoughts, Badeea?” she asked. Badeea was very good at thinking outside the box.

“Hmm...” murmured Badeea, resting a fist over her lips thoughtfully. “It seems what we need...is a way to communicate with each other and assist each other over a long distance. We'd need something that could be both a telephone and Apparition, simultaneously.”

“But we can't Apparate here,” grumbled Merula. “This Vault isn't like the Portrait Vault – it might be under the Lake, but we're still on school grounds.”

“And Muggle items don't work near Hogwarts,” Andre pointed out, “so I don't reckon a – what was it, 'tell-a-phone?' – would work very well down here, either.”

Beatrice's eyes suddenly lit up excitedly.

“Not a real telephone...but maybe a human one! When we were little – ” she indicated Penny and herself, “ – we used to play a game with the Muggle kids in our neighborhood called 'Telephone!' You sit in a circle and whisper a sentence in someone else's ear, then that person whispers it into the next person's ear, and so on, until you're right back where you started.”

Penny suddenly looked excited too. “So we can make a chain! And if someone's in trouble, then there'll be someone else close enough that they can come and help!”

“Brilliant!” said Bill.

He looked at Carewyn and the two exchanged a broad smile.

“Then that's what we'll do,” said Carewyn. “As we walk along, we'll break off one by one. Space yourselves about ten feet apart. If this room's about a hundred feet long, and there's – ” she did a quick head-count, “ – twenty-two of us...and Barnaby and Liz are outside the double doors, with Tulip and Tonks inside...then that will still leave us with a team of eight, once we reach the inside door. Let's go!”

~*~

After a lot of walking, Carewyn finally reached the Vault. With most of her friends having peeled off to create their chain, the only ones still with her were Jacob, who stayed consistently on his sister's left side; Bill, who stayed consistently on her right; Charlie; Ben; Merula; Penny; and Talbott.

The inside double doors of the Portrait Vault were nearly identical to the outside ones, being a mile high and made of aged, but beautifully sculpted white marble with silvery veins – and just under the braided marble knocker on the right door was another intricately carved keyhole.

Carewyn approached the door, her hand brushing away the cobwebs that had crusted over the keyhole.

'Moment of truth...'

She glanced at Jacob. His blue eyes softened noticeably as he gave her an encouraging nod.

Smiling back, Carewyn reached a hand into her “Fakepick” robes and withdrew the second coral key.

As soon as the key had come within a foot of the keyhole, however, it suddenly started to shake violently in Carewyn's hand.

“Huh!?”

“Carewyn!”

Ben immediately dashed over to her side, his shoulders tensed in visible concern. The door started to vibrate too, humming lowly in response to the key's presence. Then, little by little, a little pinprick of light appeared over the left knocker, cutting into the doors as it started etch glowing silvery-white words into the marble.

Lôcian reccendôm:

Cetus mæðelcwide dêaðian sîn fyrdwerod.

Læccan sîn hêahstrengðu, ongifan êower ferhð.

Hearra wan−hafolnes canne simble ðurhwunian sigelêas fore môdlufu:

âbredwian micellic ge sê milde râd sê time.

Ben glanced from Carewyn up at to the door, his eyebrows knitting together tightly over his eyes.

“What is that?”

“It looks like some kind of warning,” said Talbott, his hawk-like eyes narrowing upon the shining words. “A 'Beware, All Ye Who Enter Here' sort of message.”

Carewyn nodded in agreement. She'd thought the same thing.

“What language is that, though?” asked Penny with a frown. “It looks...like Welsh, or something...”

“It's not Welsh,” said Jacob firmly. “It's Old English.”

“Can you read it?” asked Carewyn.

“I can try – but I admit, my Old English isn't half as good as my Latin. Or my Greek, or my Runes...hell, even my French is probably better, and I only...”

Noticing the faintly critical look on his sister's face, he brushed off the end of his sentence quickly.

“...Right, then. Let's see...”

He took a step forward, rolling up the sleeves of his scarlet dress robes. Once he'd angled his hand over the letters to cast a shadow over them, he found it easier to read the first line.

“...Lôcian reccendôm...lôcian means 'to look'...so that'd be something like 'look at this,' or 'read this' – 'take heed'...”

“'Beware, all ye who enter here,'” Talbott recurred dryly, shooting a smirk over at Carewyn, who couldn't completely bite back an amused grin.

Jacob's frown deepened, dipping into the creases of his face. “The next line, I'm not quite sure. 'Dêaðian' means 'to kill' and 'fyrdwerod' can either mean 'host' or 'army'...but this first word, I have no clue. It's not Old English – if anything, I'd say 'Cetus' sounds more like Latin...”

Carewyn stiffened. She barreled over to her brother's side to better read the inscription.

“Cetus,” she breathed. “Like the constellation! Firenze suggested I study it, after I consulted him about Trelawney's supposed 'prophecy.' In Astronomy terms, the constellation lives in an area of the night sky called 'the Sea' – it's named after a sea monster from Greek mythology, which Perseus slew in order to save the princess Andromeda.”

Jacob suddenly looked very excited. “Perseus! The hero who killed the Medusa, yes! He'd taken Medusa's head after slaying her, allowing him to use her magical gaze to turn his enemies to stone!”

“Just like the Statue Curse!” realized Bill, his mouth spreading into a huge grin too.

“But what does it mean?” asked Merula impatiently. “Is there some ancient monster inside that's going to try to kill us?”

“There could be – there was a Hungarian Horntail in the last Vault,” Charlie pointed out.

“Don't remind me,” groaned Bill.

All of a sudden, the group was interrupted by a strange crackling sound behind them. Carewyn turned, and her breath stilled her throat.

Back in the direction of the doors came a burst of red distress sparks. Then another came right after, knocking into the first set and making a slightly larger firework-like explosion.

“Tulip and Tonks must be in trouble!” said Ben, his voice hard with concern. “We have to go and help them – ”

“No,” said Merula sharply, throwing an arm up in front of Ben to try to physically stop him. “Diego and Ismelda are closest – they'll be able to get to them faster than we can!”

“If they sent up more than one flare, it's got to be urgent!” argued Ben, shoving Merula's arm out of his way. “We can't just do nothing!”

“We're not doing nothing!” Merula snapped back. “The whole reason we set up that human chain...thing...is to make it so there's someone close by to help them, while we deal with the Vault!”

“Merula's right,” said Jacob. “The best way to help them, at least right now, would be to break the curse and get the treasure first. If R has caught up already, then we're nearly out of time to stop them.”

“And if R has caught up already, then I don't intend to stand by and not protect my friends!” snarled Ben, using his height to get right up in the shorter Jacob's face, who looked noticeably irritated at the younger Gryffindor lording over him. “I am not going to let anyone else die!”

“Enough,” Bill reproached them both with a tone of great finality. “This is no time for fighting.” He turned to Carewyn and added a bit more lowly, “What do you want to do, Carey?”

Carewyn looked up at Bill. The eldest Weasley glanced from her to up at the red sparks, visibly concerned. She could tell he, at least, felt for Ben's position.

She pursed her lips solemnly, thinking. It took her a moment to figure out how to articulate her thoughts properly.

“...Merula and Jacob are right: the reason we set up the human chain was to give us time. But if R is here, then we should have some of the Circle's leadership there to meet them – to lead the charge against them.”

“Then you should go, Carey,” said Charlie.

Carewyn looked up at Charlie in surprise. Her fellow Fireball looked more serious than she'd ever seen him as he reached out with both hands and took hold of her shoulders, his brown eyes more blazing than dragon fire.

“You, Ben, and Bill go,” he said firmly. “I'll stay here with Merula and Jacob.”

Carewyn felt as though he was saying,“I'll protect your brother, while you protect mine.” Her blue eyes softened visibly even as her face grew more solemn, and she inclined her head in a single nod, took his hand holding her right shoulder, and gave it a squeeze, as if silently returning the promise.

Jacob looked stricken.

“No,” he said sharply, as he rose to his feet. “I'm coming with you, Pip – ”

“You are not,” said Carewyn very softly.

“Pip – !”

“You need to translate that message!” she shot him down coldly. “You're the only one who can. And as you said, if R's here, we need to open that Vault and break the curse properly before it's too late. We can't afford the door going crazy like it did the last time you were here – we have to do everything the right way this time. No short-cuts.”

Jacob looked incredibly tense, almost terrified. It made his face look so much younger than before – the dark, haunted shadows around his eyes all the more opaque and stark.

Compassion flooding her chest, Carewyn reached out to take a hold of her brother's face in both hands, trying to comfort him.

“Jacob...I know...neither of us is very good at trusting others to help again, just yet...but right now, that's what I need from you – to trust me. ...Please.”

The two Cromwell siblings held eye contact for a long moment, Carewyn's gaze very gentle and Jacob's incredibly turbulent. Then, at long last, Jacob's face spread into a very weak, watery smile and he reached out, grabbing the back of Carewyn's head so he could pull her into a tight, almost suffocating hug.

“You've grown up so much, Carewyn,” he murmured in her ear.

The Slytherin Prefect's face broke into a soft smile as she wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him back.

“Well, I was able to catch up to you a bit while you were gone,” she teased as lightly as she could.

Jacob gave a tiny, tear-soaked chuckle. He clutched at the back of his sister's head, trailing a hand through her loose red hair; even though his hand was trembling with emotion, his grip was steady.

“If there's anyone I have absolute faith in,” he said, his voice even softer than before as he shut his eyes and tried to fight back his tears, “it's you.”

Once the two Cromwells had broken apart, Carewyn turned to Merula.

“Take this,” she said, handing Merula the coral key. “Open the Vault once it's safe to do so.”

Merula gave her a dry smirk. “Hn! You might be leader, Cromwell, but you don't have to tell me what to do.”

Her pink eyes then grew a bit more serious.

“Just...don't get yourself killed, all right?” she said a little more lowly.

Carewyn nodded reassuringly. “You too.”

A third and fourth set of red sparks shot up into the air on the other side of the chamber.

“It must be serious, if they're sending up even more sparks,” said Carewyn, her eyes narrowing in concern and urgency. “I'll  fly ahead in my Animagus form – ”

“We'll fly ahead,” said Talbott firmly.

Carewyn looked at Talbott, taken aback.

“Seems like there's not much point in keeping secrets when we're in the middle of a life-and-death situation like this,” he said, smiling wryly.

He immediately transformed into an eagle, spreading his wings and doing a quick loop around her head in the air. Carewyn just as quickly transformed into a robin, and the two flew off toward the doors.

Bill glanced at the other members of the Circle of Khanna, dumbstruck.

“...Did any of you know Talbott was an Animagus?”

“Nope,” said Charlie.

Ben and Penny shook their heads.

“I did,” said Merula, smiling a bit guiltily. “But I found out by accident; Cromwell and Winger made me swear not to tell.”

Bill blinked. “...Well, I guess that explains all the bird puns.”

Brushing this revelation off, he charged off back through the field of stone statues toward the front doors, Ben at his heels.

~*~

As she and Talbott flew overhead, Carewyn caught sight of her friends down below passing messages of what was going on back up toward the interior doors. She even caught sight of some of them – Fred, George, and Andre – turning to face Ben and Bill as they ran after her and Talbott, trying to quickly brief them on what was going on without stopping their advance.

Talbott as an eagle, who with his wider wingspan kept overtaking Carewyn, looped back around in his flight pattern so that he was once again next to her. He gave a shrill cry to get her attention – once he'd caught her eye, he indicated something below them with a pointed nod of his head.

When she looked down, Carewyn saw what had delayed the “telephone” call about what was going on in reaching the interior doors before they left – Chiara, who had been positioned between Badeea and Jae near the center of the room, had left her position and was now quickly darting and weaving through the statues back toward the front doors, past the others.

'Someone's hurt,' Carewyn realized immediately. It was the only reason Healing expert Chiara would've abandoned her post – and why she would've looked that scared.

She flapped her wings harder, trying to follow Chiara toward the doors. When she and Talbott arrived, Carewyn felt her breath still in her throat.

Collapsed in front of the double doors were Barnaby, Liz, and Tulip, their motionless bodies splayed limply on the stone floor. Tonks stood in front of the other three, conjuring shields to protect them, as Ismelda and Diego struck out in turns against the red-haired, cloaked woman who had arrived.

It was Patricia Rakepick.

Chiara reached Ismelda and Diego just before Carewyn and Talbott did. After sharing some words with Ismelda, Chiara took a deep breath and then bravely plowed through the fray, trying to reach Tonks. Rakepick, spying Chiara's divided attention, lashed a spell at her, throwing Chiara off of her feet and knocking her backwards to the ground.

'NO!'

Fear pulsed through Carewyn as she and Talbott both dove for the ground. Talbott went straight for Rakepick, swooping down on her with his sharp talons out.

“AUGH!”

Talbott's talons slashed at Rakepick's wand arm, drawing blood. He didn't stay long, though – within seconds, he swooped up, just barely dodging Rakepick's counterattack, as he returned to the air, doubling back to urge on Bill and Ben.

Carewyn transformed back into a human while still mid-air, pointing her wand at the ground.

“Spongify!”

She bounced back down to the ground safely, dashing over to Chiara's side.

“Chiara – are you all right?”

“Carewyn,” breathed Chiara, her face betraying a soft smile at the sight of her for a fleeting moment, before she immediately became more urgent. “I'm fine...but Barnaby isn't – Rakepick shot him with something after he tried to put her in a choke-hold, and he's bleeding badly – ”

“Then we need to get you over to him now,” Carewyn cut her off, her voice hardening in an attempt to hide her anxiety.

Hoisting Chiara back up onto her feet, Carewyn dashed across the floor alongside her. As they ran, Diego and Ismelda lashed out in turns against Rakepick – Rakepick blocked both of their spells with one magical shield before chucking an lightning-like violet spell straight at Ismelda's chest.

“GAH!”

Ismelda crumpled up on the ground, hunching in on herself and clutching at her chest. Diego charged forward, his dark eyes narrowed in righteous fury.

“You vile – !”

The Dueling Champion lobbed several silent hexes at Rakepick, which she blocked one at a time.

“Mastered non-verbal magic, then, Mr. Caplan?” said Rakepick coolly, her lips curled up in a small smirk. “I suppose I should expect nothing less from the 'best duelist at Hogwarts.' I wonder if the same can be said for you, Miss Cromwell?”

Without warning, Rakepick had whirled on Chiara and Carewyn, who had darted behind her, and blasted a black flare at them. Carewyn quickly summoned a silent Shield Charm to block it.

“Chiara, go!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Go help Barnaby! Venio Saggita!”

A hail of red-feathered arrows shot through the air at Rakepick, which the older witch disintegrated with white light from her wand.

“Learned that trick from Jacob, I assume?” said Rakepick.

“Among others,” Carewyn said icily.

“Impressive. Allow me to show you a few of mine – ”

Diego, anticipating Rakepick was going to attack, had wordlessly summoned ropes from his wand, which he sent flying at Rakepick. The ex-professor, however, seemed to have likewise anticipated Diego's move, for she raised her wand, grabbing hold of the ropes in mid-air, and transfigured them into a single, whip-like cord that she then lashed back at Diego. Diego tried to block it, but the magical rope wound around his legs, arms and neck like some inky black snake. It squeezed, making him unable to move – and then within seconds, it flared a horrible, fiery blood-red, and Diego began to scream in agony.

“AUUUUUGGGGGGGHH!”

Carewyn's heart clenched in terror. “Diego!”

“Diego!” cried Tonks and Chiara.

“Venenum Ardere, Miss Cromwell,” said Rakepick, her gaze rather cold upon the writhing Diego. “Otherwise known as the Flaming Venom Curse, or simply the 'Snake's Bite.' An old favorite of Grindelwald's, back in the day, when he wanted to play with his food.”

“You cack-head twat!” swore Tonks furiously. “Petrificus Totalus!”

Rakepick blocked Tonks's attack effortlessly, before raising her wand up to her lips and breathing a stream of blue flame at her. Tonks also tried to block it with a Shield Charm, but the fire wasn't attacking her – instead it latched itself onto the floor, winding around in a tight noose-like shape around Tonks, Chiara, and the wounded Barnaby, Tulip, and Liz.

“Tonks!” screamed Carewyn. “Chiara!”

“Carewyn!” cried Chiara, visibly terrified.

Tonks tried to put the flames out with a stream of water from her wand, but instead of going out, the flames lashed out at them in retaliation.

“Protego Totalum!” cried Chiara.

Golden-white light sprang from the end of her wand and formed a large bubble-like barrier between them and the blueish fire.

“Protego Diabolica,” said Rakepick, her gaze colder than ever upon Tonks. “A Shield that incinerates any enemies of its castor, while leaving their allies unharmed. I'd suggest you stay put, Ms. Tonks.”

“Stupefy!”

Rakepick quickly dived to the right as the red Stunning spell just barely whizzed past her ear.

Bill and Ben had finally arrived, Talbott flying overhead in eagle form. Talbott immediately flew over toward the blue flames – he tried to fly down close enough to reach Tonks, Chiara, Barnaby, Liz, and Tulip, but the flames lunged out at his talons and tail feathers, forcing him to withdraw.

“The only way out of those flames is by going through them, Mr. Winger!” Rakepick called up to the large eagle, almost tauntingly. “Though, as I said – I wouldn't try it unless you knew I didn't consider you an enemy!”

Diego's shoulders shook violently as he struggled against the flaming red bonds in a vain attempt to break them. His struggle only seemed to make the bonds around his limbs and neck tighten and burn hotter – he couldn't hold in the horrible chokes of agony erupting out of his throat.

“I'm impressed you're still standing, Mr. Caplan,” said Rakepick coolly. “But I wouldn't struggle too much. The more you fight, the tighter the bonds get.”

“Help Diego,” Ben told Bill urgently. “I'll handle Rakepick!”

He barreled over to Carewyn's side, standing shoulder to shoulder with her. Rakepick's eyes flickered at Ben, losing most of their amusement.

“You'll handle me, will you?” she said very lowly. “You mean like you did back in the Forest?”

Ben's brown eyes flared with hatred. “Bombarda!”

Rakepick wordlessly blocked Ben's spell, lashing out her arm at him. Ben and Rakepick once again traded blows, but this time Ben wasn't fighting Rakepick alone. Carewyn attacked Rakepick from the other side, making the ex-professor dodge her spells while simultaneously blocking Ben's.

“You're going to need stronger spells than that, Mr. Copper – Miss Cromwell!” Rakepick called over the blasting and popping of their spells. “I can keep blocking and dodging all day, I'm more than used to it...”

Talbott transformed back into a human in mid-air, leaping down to the ground next to Carewyn too.

“Confringo!”

Rakepick blocked the Ravenclaw's Blasting Curse without looking at him. Her eyes merely flickering over her shoulder in Talbott's direction, she flung out her arm, pointing her wand at one of the rows of stone statues lined up near the door.

“Piertotum Locomotor!”

All of a sudden, a row of six statues lurched to life. One of the tallest, a middle-aged wizard with a short goatee and long flowing robes, seized Talbott around the neck with one hand, hoisting him off the ground as it strangled him. Talbott choked for air, struggling to breathe well enough to cast a counter-spell, but he couldn't take in enough oxygen to properly verbalize any incantation.

“Talbott, hold on!”

Ben dashed forward, raising his wand.

“Red – !”

Before he could finish casting his Reductor Charm, however, Ben's wrist had been seized tightly by the statue of Olivia Green. She twisted it behind his back with an awful snap – Carewyn couldn't hold back a small scream when Ben gasped out in pain.

“BEN!”

“I might think twice before fighting too hard against your new opponents, you two,” said Rakepick, as the remaining statues surrounded Talbott and Ben and grabbed their other limbs to restrain them, “considering they're currently fighting you against their will. I daresay Jacob in particular would be rather unhappy if you damaged Miss Green, Mr. Copper.”

Hatred lashed at Carewyn's insides. “Rakepick, you – !”

Bill abandoned the restrained Diego at last to join Carewyn's side. His handsome, freckled face was contorted with a kind of righteous fury Carewyn had never seen before – like a lion protecting his pride.

“Rakepick!” he snarled. “This ends NOW!”

Standing shoulder to shoulder, Bill and Carewyn attacked with ferocity. Rakepick did have to put in a bit more effort fighting the two of them than she had most of the others. Carewyn had always been a proficient duelist in her own right, and Bill – being the adult member of the Circle of Khanna and having also trained under Rakepick – was a credible threat. Plus, considering how well Bill and Carewyn knew each other's respective dueling styles, they could bounce spells off each other.

“Incendio!”

“Immobulus!”

“DEPULSO!”

Rakepick had been able to block Bill and Carewyn's individual spells, but their combined Banishing Charm was enough to rock her Shield to its core. Carewyn then took advantage of Rakepick's weakened center of balance to point her wand at the ground under her feet.

'Bombarda!' Carewyn thought fiercely.

Rakepick stumbled backward with a cry, landing on the ground – Bill barreled forward.

“STUPEFY!”

Rakepick had to roll out of the way to avoid Bill's spell, but she suddenly found him on top of her. She wouldn't be able to block him with him that close –

“Demitto!” Rakepick bellowed, pointing her wand at Bill's feet.

All of a sudden, Bill felt the ground collapse under him – he was thrown forward, his chest and chin slamming hard into the ground.

“AH!”

Rakepick had conjured a sinkhole in the floor, one that sucked Bill's legs down into the marble like quicksand. Bill quickly tried to raise his wand, but it was no use: the ground had swallowed up his wand arm when it had collided with the stone.

“Hold on!” cried Carewyn, pointing her wand at the floor ensnaring Bill. “Ascendio! Impedimenta! Finite Incanctum!”

But the light of Carewyn's spells was swallowed up by the stone. Bill struggled to yank himself out, but it only served to make the stone pull him down further.

“Sorry, Miss Cromwell, but those spells won't work,” said Rakepick. “No Charm will work.”

Carewyn blocked Rakepick out fiercely. She was lying – just like she always lied –

“Reparifarge! Restituo Maxima!”

Untransfiguration didn't seem to have any effect either. Bill only seemed to sink faster – his chest was now half-submerged in stone.

Her heart slamming against her ribcage, Carewyn desperately ran over to her best friend, seizing his only free arm and pulling with all of her strength.

“Hold on – I'll get you – ”

“Carey, no!” rasped Bill. “Get back – !”

BAM.

Carewyn was slammed into the floor face-first with the force of Rakepick's Blasting Curse.

“Carey!”

“Carewyn!”

“General!”

Carewyn could hear the terrified cries of her friends behind her. She looked up, terror pounding in her chest – Talbott was completely trapped in the hold of the three statues holding him; Ben had been beaten within an inch of his life by the statues trying to restrain him and was now nursing not just a broken arm but several horrible bruises on his face; Diego had finally collapsed to the ground in a heap, his shoulders quaking as he struggled to stay conscious; Ismelda was shuddering uncontrollably in pain on the floor; the noose of blue flames was slowly tightening around the others, making Tonks and Chiara huddle over the injured Barnaby, Liz, and Tulip so they could maintain their own golden-white Shield Charm around them; and Bill was now almost completely submerged, struggling to keep his head above the quicksand-like stone.

“The only way you can save all of them is through stopping me, Miss Cromwell,” Rakepick said, her voice rising. “If you even can.”

Her eyes flashing with rage, Carewyn smacked the air with her wand, hurtling a cutting spell right at Rakepick's face. Just like before, though, Rakepick blocked it. Carewyn silently lashed out again and again – shooting ice and fire and scarlet bursts of light – but nothing she used got through Rakepick's Shield Charm.

“I told you, Miss Cromwell!” cried Rakepick, her voice suddenly much harsher than before. “You'll need a stronger spell to get through my Shields! You know there are a select few spells that a Shield Charm can't block – ”

Carewyn halted in her attacks, her eyes going very wide.

A select few – yes. Carewyn knew what those were – those three Curses, that even a Shield Charm couldn't block...

Her wide blue eyes suddenly grew very dark, flooding with a colder, harsher emotion than she'd ever known before. It felt like poison coursing through her veins.

“NO!”

'Levicorpus! Incendio! AVERTE SACTUM! REDUCTO!'

One by one, her non-verbal spells bounced off Rakepick's Shield Charm. The ex-professor seemed to be getting impatient – her eyes widened with a strange, almost frustrated glint upon Carewyn's face as she raised her own wand.

“Crucio.”

Her Cruciatus Curse hit Carewyn straight on in the chest.

Never before had Carewyn ever experienced such blinding, white-hot pain. It was as though a thousand tiny needles were stabbing her from all directions, into her skin, into her head, into her eyes, into every single nerve in her body. It made her fall back and crumple up in on herself, as if subconsciously trying to shield herself from the pain, but there was no use – no defense –

That scream she heard – it wasn't hers, was it? That terrible, agonizing cry, like that of a dying animal...

Suddenly, all at once, the pain ceased. Carewyn slumped forward, gasping for air. She could feel tears and sweat streaming down her face.

“That is what I will do to every single one of your friends, when they come to aid you, Miss Cromwell!” Rakepick shouted. “I will torture them all, just like I did with Miss Snyde – and then I will kill them, just like I did Miss Khanna!”

The memory of Rowan's empty, lifeless black eyes was a knife in Carewyn's heart: one that almost physically injured her, making her hunch in on herself.

Rakepick stood over Carewyn, her eyes gleaming. But there was no triumph there – it was a fierce emotion, whatever it was, but it didn't seem happy in the slightest.

“If you want you and your friends to live,” she said softly, “you'll have to kill me.”

“No.”

Rakepick was so taken aback by the fierceness of Carewyn's voice that she nearly flinched. “What?”

The Slytherin Prefect was still hunched in on herself with her eyes downcast, and she was careful not to step on her “Fakepick” robes as she precariously stumbled back to her feet. She lifted her head, her blue eyes flaring with pure hatred upon Rakepick's despite the lingering pain trembling through her shoulders, as she raised her wand again.

“I said...” she said very quietly and coldly, “...no.”

Rakepick's expression was oddly stricken for a moment: disbelieving and horrified, and almost...moved. Then her blue eyes narrowed to slits.

“You – !”

As she raised up her wand arm as if to back-hand Carewyn with another curse, however, Rakepick suddenly found her arm engulfed in throbbing black-colored light. Then her arm was twisted painfully behind her, dislocating the limb with a terrible CRACK before it flung her violently to the ground.

Carewyn stared from the badly injured, gasping Rakepick to where the spell had originated.

Jacob Cromwell plowed out of the field of statues. His teeth were bared and lightning-like electric blue sparks crackled dangerously from his raised Aspen wand. His almond-shaped blue eyes were also darker and scarier than Carewyn had ever seen them – they were so devoid of light or humanity, they resembled a demon's.

“Jacob!” gasped Carewyn.

Jacob barreled forward, snatching Rakepick up the ground by her broken wrist and sticking his still crackling wand in her face. Rakepick gave a choked grunt of pain as her gold-tipped wand clattered to the stone floor.

“You want to die so badly, Rakepick?” the elder Cromwell snarled. “For pointing your wand ANYWHERE near Pip, I'll more than oblige that request – ”

“Jacob, NO,” Carewyn cut him off with ferocity.

Jacob looked at his sister, the demonic gleam still clinging to his eyes – but the light flickered back into being upon seeing Carewyn rushing over to Bill. With Rakepick being Disarmed, the cursed rope binding Diego and the circle of blue flames had vanished, the statues holding Talbott and Ben had gone still, and the floor had stopped inhaling Bill and froze back into place – and so Carewyn could now blast apart the stone with relative ease.

“Bombarda! Ascendio!”

She levitated Bill out of the wrecked stone and back down onto the floor. As soon as his feet touched the ground, the eldest Weasley lunged forward and enveloped Carewyn in a big, relieved hug.

“Thank Merlin, Carey!” he breathed, squeezing her for dear life.

“Ismelda!”

“Diego!?”

Merula, Charlie, and Penny led the rest of the Circle of Khanna onto the field, over to their comrades.

“Carey -- Bill, are you okay?” said Charlie, his forehead crinkled with anxiety.

“We’re all right,” Bill reassured him.

Carewyn brought an arm around Charlie’s shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze. Charlie leaned his head beside hers, smiling in relief.

“Through the ‘tell-a-phone’ we’d made, we heard that Rakepick was the one at the front,” he explained. “Jacob wanted to drop everything immediately, and I reckon Merula did too, but we tried to stay focused on the Vault. Once we got the message that you and Bill were fighting Rakepick alone, though, we decided we had to cut our losses and come help you...”

“I’m glad you did,” said Bill.

Penny rushed over to Ben with a Wiggenweld Potion, while George helped Ben hold his broken arm still so Badeea could properly mend it. Cedric was able to wrap Diego's arm over his shoulders and help him to his feet, but Ismelda seemed unable to stand.

“Ow! No, no – don't help me up, no!” she hissed in pain, still clutching at her chest and fighting back tears of pain as Beatrice tried to support her. “I can't – every time I move, it feels like I'm being stabbed – ”

“The Heart Shard Curse,” said Jacob. His voice had abruptly shifted back to his usual, over-confident, “scholarly” tone. “Makes you feel like there's broken glass in your chest. A Wiggenweld Potion should help with that.”

Penny pulled out another bottle of Wiggenweld Potion from the inside of her robes and coaxed Ismelda into taking a sip.

“I'm fine, Cedric,” Diego grumbled stubbornly, as he tried to support himself on his own. “Chiara – the others, are they – ?”

“We're fine, Diego Caplan.”

Tulip straightened up, holding her forehead as if she'd been clubbed over the back of the head. Liz shook her head lightly too and adjusted her glasses so she could look everyone over.

“Tulip,” breathed Carewyn. “Liz, thank goodness...”

“They were just Stunned,” said Chiara gently. “And Barnaby's doing better already, aren't you, Barnaby?”

“Ow,” mumbled Barnaby, but he gave Carewyn a smile too. “Yeah – I'm all right, Carewyn...you don't need to be afraid anymore. At least – not about me, anyway – this place is still really creepy and all.”

Carewyn's eyes softened slightly. Merula came up beside Carewyn and Bill, her pink eyes boring into Rakepick still in Jacob's grip.

“So it was you,” she sneered. “Not so tough now, are you, Rakepick? Now we can finally make you pay, for what you did to Khanna – to all of us – ”

“I told Jacob no, Merula, and the same goes for you,” said Carewyn very harshly, her eyebrows knitting together impatiently as she shut her eyes. “I don't want Rakepick to die.”

Merula whirled on Carewyn, completely flabbergasted.

“Cromwell, she killed Khanna! She just finished torturing you! She was about ready to kill all of us – she even said she planned on killing all of us! If your brother hadn't shown up – ”

“But he did,” said Carewyn firmly. “And he overpowered her. And now – Incarcerous – ”

She bound Rakepick's limbs very tightly with a set of black ropes from her wand. Rakepick struggled slightly, her face very white as she stared down at her bindings.

“ – when we're finished with the Vaults, we can turn her over to the Aurors, and she can go to Azkaban for the rest of her life.”

“Maybe you're satisfied with that, Cromwell, but I'm not!”

Merula shoved herself right up into Carewyn's personal space, her pink eyes flaring with anger.

“Rakepick betrayed us – all of us, back in the Portrait Vault! She stole seven years of your brother's life ��� of your life – and she has made everyone at Hogwarts less safe! You aren't the only person with an opinion that matters here! Rakepick deserves to die!”

“She does,” Carewyn said quietly.

“Then why are you protecting her!?”

Carewyn glanced from Merula to down at Rakepick. The ex-professor was still not looking at any of them – her eyes were locked on the floor, while barely seeing it – but her lips were pursed and she'd gone very still. She was listening intently to the conversation.

Carewyn was silent for a long moment, contemplating how best to articulate what she was feeling. Then she took a deep breath.

“...Rakepick...is not someone whose opinion should be listened to...but for everything she's said that wasn't true, she was right about one thing.”

She swallowed.

“...She and I...are very similar.”

Jacob roughly seized Carewyn's shoulder. “Pip, you're nothing like – ”

“Jacob, please,” Carewyn cut him off with a forceful attempt at calm.

Her eyes drifted away, landing absently on the open air over Rakepick's head.

“You said it yourself, Merula – for someone who hated her so much...I did sound a lot like her. I did think a lot like her. At the time I pushed it away, not wanting to think about it – but it's true. We're both people who...gather others around us...who put on this caring mask, and encourage and inspire others...while never truly trusting them with the truth of who we are...or what we think. We both have done anything we had to, in order to get at the Vaults. We both have manipulated the people who relied on us and led them into danger for our own benefit. ...We both...are liars, through and through.”

Her eyes flickered to Bill, who likewise had opened his mouth to argue, but the words stilled in his throat when she shook her head.

“But for all the things we have in common...I have no intention of following her path. I told her once that I didn't need to use the Cruciatus Curse, or any other Unforgivable Curse, in order to save Jacob, and I meant it. I will not let her prove me wrong in that. I will not treat her life as disposable, the way she did Rowan's. And I will not give her the satisfaction of escaping the consequences of her actions – not even by dying.”

Carewyn's eyes flashed with steely determination.

“I want her to live a very long, lonely life – locked up where she can never hurt anyone again, with only her own failure as company. Just as I want Rowan to always be remembered...I want her to be completely forgotten...for no one to speak her name, with hatred or admiration. At least in Azkaban, her life can be a reminder. A reminder...that there is no glory for people like Patricia Rakepick.”

There was an echoing silence. Carewyn was aware of Rakepick breathing rather heavily, but she didn't look at her. Instead she looked at Merula out the side of her eye.

Her old rival's eyes were downcast as she took in what Carewyn had said. After a long moment, she exhaled through her nose quietly.

“...You really think anyone could forget what she did?”

Carewyn's eyes softened. “Maybe not right away. But hopefully someday.”

Merula looked up at Carewyn, her pink eyes boring into her face. “I won't forget. I won't forgive.”

“I understand,” said Carewyn softly. Her eyes drifted down to Merula's right shoulder. “...I just don't want you to throw everything away – all the growth you've gone through, all the potential you have...everything you've become, and the brilliant future you're owed, because of that.”

Although Carewyn wasn't looking her in the face anymore, she could see a shift in Merula's expression out the side of her eye. She felt an arm loop over her shoulders – Carewyn looked up to see Jacob resting his head against hers, his solemn frown buried in her hair as he closed his eyes.

“Pip is right,” Jacob said lowly. “As much as I don't think Rakepick deserves to live...hell, as much as I would still love to rip her limb from limb, slowly and painfully...”

He opened his eyes and looked down at his younger sister with a sad smile.

“...A future...a real future...is something worth sacrificing for.”

Bill nodded, smiling a little more fully. “It's something worth fighting for.”

“Something worth working for,” said Penny earnestly.

“Something worth living for,” said Ben at last. He glanced at Carewyn, offering her a supportive smile. 

At long, long last, Merula gave in. She inclined her head in a single, halfhearted nod.

“All right, Cromwell,” she said lowly. “We'll turn her over to the Aurors.”

Her lips spread into a much cockier smile. “Now let's go break that Statue Curse, shall we?”

The other members of the Circle of Khanna shared smiles.

Rakepick, however, reacted in a way no one expected.

“NO!”

In an instant, she'd thrown herself against the black ropes binding her, trying to hurl herself to her feet.

“Carey – !”

“Watch out – ”

Bill, Charlie, Merula, and Ben all moved forward, prepared to restrain her, but Rakepick managed to get right up in Carewyn's face. She was whiter and filled with a kind of visible panic that no one had ever seen on her face before.

“Miss Cromwell, listen to me – you must not break the curse!”

[To be continued...]

[sweetlittlevampire]

Rima’s Wangxian Fic Rec

So I’ve compiled these specifically for @inessencedevided , but hey, we’re all here to spread the love, so please, share and reshare to your heart’s content! :D

I’ll start with “Personal Favourites” - there are many more that I would consider a Personal Favourite, but I’ve picked those specifically because I thought you’d enjoy them. AU fics will also be included, because there are some real gems out there, and some still take place in canon universe, but with a twist, so...yeah.

Main pairing is Wangxian; I somehow don’t tend to read much else. ^^;

This thing is going to be loooong, so please find everything under the Read More. And feel free to let me know if a link doesn’t work so I can fix it.

Personal Favourites

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Length:  68713 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s summary: “Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.”

A case fic! And one of my personal all-time favourites as well! It is so well-crafted, with an engaging and captivating plot, a TON of OCs who actually do contribute to the story, and a few scenes that are so beautiful I could weep. Got hyped up on twitter, and rightfully so. It’s a delight to read.

Rabbit Heart by  Suaine

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length:   56590 words in total

Chapters: 6

Status: Completed

Author’s summary: “ Wei Wuxian walks his lonely road, but he’s not going to leave Lan Wangji entirely alone. That would be boring. “

Another case fic! Set after the show’s ending, Wei Wuxian goes his way, but leaves the paper man behind to keep Lan Wangji company. I loved this one to pieces - it has intriguing subplots and will make your heart melt several times.

Those are actually thonly two case fics I’ve read so far, but for more, be sure to visit @wangxianfics ‘s Case Fic section. It has many more, and I am planning on reading several of them.

the earth remembered me by  remux

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  30321  words so far

Chapters: 2 out of scheduled 4

Status: Ongoing

Author’s Summary: “All around him, summer throbs like a heartbeat, undeniably alive. Wounds begin to heal. And Wei Wuxian, with sweat on his brow, feels ripe. Wei Wuxian, with his hands deep in the soil and mud between his toes, remembers something simple and primitive and utterly transformative: It feels good to make things grow. OR: Wei Wuxian’s travel guide to finding your place in the world.”

This fic changed me. Like, literally. It’s still ongoing, but I don’t even care. It’s not a case fic, but I’m 100% sure you’ll love it. It’s pure poetry and catharsis, and it hurts so much, but it’s so necessary. I think I cried several times while reading each of the chapters, and I’m eagerly but patiently awaiting the next one. It follows Wei Wuxian’s journey after he leaves the Cloud Recesses in episode 50 and tells the story of what he does and experiences before he returns back to Lan Wangji. So it’s absically only Wei Wuxian, Lil’ Apple, and the people they meet along his way.

Begotten by  ecorie

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   37279  words

Chapters: 6

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “He’s mine.” He echoed what had once been teasingly said in jest, and added, “This is my son.” Against all odds and without a choice, Lan Zhan brings A-Yuan back to Cloud Recesses. Xichen keeps his brother’s secrets, and shields the child when Lan Zhan could not.“

Also known as: Filling in the blanks with everything that happened in those 13 years. I loved this one. Wangji = Best Dad, Sizhui = Best Son.

Canon Universe

(not necessarily canon compliant though)

the soft animal by  cafecliche

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   5046  words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “You don’t think that’s strange?” he says. His voice, his new voice, is familiar now. But sometimes it almost startles him, hearing it come from his mouth. “It’s been nine months. I’ve used them almost every day. I should know how long these legs are.” (Or: Wei Wuxian has a plan to train Mo Xuanyu’s body. The results aren’t quite what he expects.)“

A very interesting take on Wei Wuxian, and how he comes to terms with his new body. Something I had not seen previously explored, and I really loved how the author handled it.

Come let me love you (Come love me again) by  obsessivereader

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  9105   words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “The notes from the dizi cut off as Wei Ying goes absolutely still. Over the quiet whisper of the wind through grass, Lan Wangji can hear the rapid beat of his own heart. Wei Ying's hands drop to his side slowly, so slowly, as though time has slowed down for both of them. He turns, a look almost of fear on his face. And then...And then, Wei Ying smiles—slow and beautiful and warm and relieved as though Lan Wangji standing before him is a treasured dream fulfilled. "Lan Zhan," he breathes.“

A “What happens after the end of the last episode?”-fic. I’m kind of a sucker for those. This one is very sweet and tender; I absolutely loved the interactions between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and the gentleness of it all. I also adore the song it’s been titled after (”Annie’s Song” by John Denver, if you’re curious).

Death of a Ghost by  Gotcocomilk

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length:   107397 words in total

Chapters: 30

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “There was a ghost that haunted the decks of Lotus Pier, it was said. If you stepped across the wooden planks at night, walked along the endless docks and flying purple banners, he would appear. He was always in darkest black, dressed as specter and shadow. In the emptiness where a face should be was a thick fog, features washed away and leaving behind only glimmering red eyes. He looked ferocious as a ghoul, it was said. Jin Ling thought he looked sad.“

Full disclosure - I am five chapters into this thing, and I am already recommending it, I am that intrigued. There is some serious Yunmeng Bros stuff in there which I think you are going to love, and the interactions between said ghost and Jin Ling are - aaaah! Cannot wait to continue!

wrap your name tight around my ribs by  sasukepositive

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   8728 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ In true Wei Ying fashion, his return comes with a dose of mischief. “

Another “What happens after the end of the last episode?”-fic, with a good dose of Wangxian family feels. In fact. the whole thing is a huge chunk of feels. A very soft, delicate, and sweet fic, which will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy.

please linger by  sasukepositive

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   5636 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ When A-Yuan begins crying, Lan Wangji knows it makes sense. He understands that crying will not harm him — he logically knows that. However, A-Yuan’s little face turns red so quickly that it leaves Lan Wangji a little panicked.“Ah,” he begins helplessly, stepping forward in an attempt at — something. He doesn’t know what. “It’s okay.” or: sometimes the man you love assures you that his mysteriously acquired child will nap until he gets back from shopping. for sure. “

If you liked the Dad Date Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had with A-Yuan in Yiling, then you’ll love this one. It’s a fill-the-gaps fic in which Lan Wangji returns to Yiling several times to see Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan. Still follows canon events though, hence the bittersweet ending, but it is still so so lovely.

I hope that you will come and meet me by  feyburner

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length:   28385 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did. “

Another one of tehse post-show-canon fics. I love everything feyburner writes, and this was the first fic of theirs I came across. I love the feeloings described in it, and just how sweet it is. One of those fics in which the way the mature part is executed just makes the whole thing even sweeter.

Alternate Universe

(but sometimes within the canon universe?)

Merman Lan Wangji!AU by  FleetofShippyShips ( @fleetofshippyships here on tumblr)

- which is a series of connected fics, and not one long fic with chapters, hence why the formatting is different here. 5 entries so far; ungoing. Teen And Up Audiences

...which is definetely a personal favourite of mine, - you might have noticed, since I’ve been drawing a ton for this particular AU. But since I don’t know if yu’re into merfolk!AUs I didn’t list it up there with the personal favourites.

It is following canon so far, only that Lan Wangji is, as the title suggests, a merman - with secrets.

I adore the atmosphere of this series so much, and the way Zoe writes it is just so beautiful. It’s a story in which I could live, and if you’re in for the ride, I can assure you that there will be many surprises to come.

Welcome to Gusu  by  perkynurples ( @bilboo here on tumblr)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   30853 words so far

Chapters: 5 so far

Status: Ongoing

Author’s Summary: “ Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, LAKE MONSTERS “

Annie wasn’t lying when she said this fic has it all. What started as some kind of crack fic turned into something beautiful that completely owns my heart.  The interactions between the characters are so heartwarming, and while I sense that some major drama is going to occur soon, I also know that this will eventually have a happy ending. It’s delightful, and it does belong to my personal favourites as well.

Some of You by  tangerinechar

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length:   60640 words

Chapters: 7

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji gets drunk and tweets a love confession, Wei Wuxian panics, and all of twitter decides to matchmake Lan Wangji and his mystery guy. “

A social media fic! And a hilarious one at that! If you’re in the mood for an extra panicky, extra obnoxious Wei Wuxian? This is the fic for you. It has one of the sweetest love confessions ever. There’s some background Xicheng too.

Window Shopping by  thunderwear

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length:   18000 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji didn't look out across the other apartment building often, but now, as he scooped up his escaped rabbit, he looked over only to see a piece of paper taped to the window of the apartment across from him. It was written on purple construction paper in big block letters, like a child had written it. WHAT'S YOUR BUNNY'S NAME???“

I did already rec this one to you, but WHO CARES? A Quarantine fic! The first one I came across, and I loved it! A friend of mine thought Wei Wuxian was OOC, but I disagree - he didn’t exactly grow up in the same circumstances as in canon, and his life situation isn’t 100% the same, so I still think it fits. A-Yuan makes an appearance, and the interactions between Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and the boy are just so very cute!

Home is Where the Heart is by  Alipeeps ( @alipeeps here on tumblr)

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  10036 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Wei Ying’s expression is tight and unhappy, his entire body held rigidly away from Lan Zhan.He doesn’t look at Lan Zhan as he says, “You don’t have to worry, Lan Zhan, I’m never going to touch you.”The distaste in Wei Ying’s voice makes Lan Zhan’s blood run cold.“Just because our families have arranged this marriage, we don’t have to be together… like that…” Wei Ying’s mouth twists unpleasantly. “It can be a marriage in name only. A...” he swallows, looking like he might be sick, “...a business arrangement.”

Arranged Marriage AUs are also one of my weaknesses, especially if the two soon-to-be-married people are actually in love with each other but have yet to confess, This one does the trick. It’s modern era with no cultivation, and the mutual pining is REAL in this one.

what else is there? by  mme_anxious

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:   12917 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Did you hear the terrible news? Yiling Laozu Wei Wuxian has gone beyond the pale! He has murdered Hanguang-Jun!”This is the first thing the swan hears flying over Yiling, and it sets him to hissing. It’s the kind of sound he would never make as a human, but as a swan—a mute swan— hissing is the only form of communication available to Lan Wangji. So he hisses. -Jin Guangyao transforms Lan Wangji into a swan. Only an act of love will break the curse.”

A fairytale!AU based on Swan Lake. You might have seen my Swangji drawing; this is the fic it was drawn for. It takes place in canon universe and is super lovely and magical. I may have cried a bit.

all your life you’ll dream of this by  Attila ( @attilarrific here on tumblr)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length:  22668 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji should refuse. He should. He looks back down at the mask. Beneath it is the soft creamy paper of the invitation. He could present this at the door and slip into the palace and—“Go see him, Wangji,” Lan Xichen says quietly, and Lan Wangji feels his resolve crumble beneath him”

Another fairytale!AU - this time, it’s loosely based on Cinderella, with Lan Wangji as Cinderella and the forehead ribbon as glass slipper. Such a lovely lovely fic. May also have cried a bit; it’s heartfelt and magical and so warm and sweet.

Love wakes me by  dea_liberty

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length:   42812 words in total

Chapters: 4

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: "It starts with a bet. All mistakes, Wei Wuxian thinks, start with a bet. It’s starts with a bet and ends with Wei Wuxian losing everything. Nine years ago, Wei Wuxian made a bet with disastrous consequences. Now, he is part-owner of the popular and eclectic Yiling Cafe, years and miles away from his old life, making the best of things and trying to leave the past where it belongs. When Lan Wangji walks into his cafe by accident, Wei Wuxian finds himself doing what he thought he'd never do again; reclaiming some small part of his past, and hoping for a future he'd given up as lost.”

If someone had told me that I would fall head over heels in love with a Coffee Shop AU, of all things? I would have laughed...yet here we are. I’ve read this thing in one sitting and cannot stop thinking about it. I absolutely have to reread it; it’s slowly but surely becoming one of my personal favourites.

[myfriendscallmecoelophysis]

where we will we'll roam

Its atla au fluff I swear

Dedicated always and forever to @the-nerf-house  and @transvav (5166 words)

“And we’re sure Jordan can’t just waterbend us all over there?” 

“While I appreciate the confidence in my abilities Tom, no. I can’t. It's an entire ocean. We’ll have to find a ship.” 

They’d come to the unfortunate realization that unless they wanted to back track several weeks, they’d have to cross the Southern Ocean to reach their current destination in the Earth Kingdom and were now left with the dilemma of how to accomplish that task. 

“There’s a village about a day's walk east of here, it's on the water so hopefully they’ll have a ship we can charter.” Dec pointed out, tracing the route with his fingertip on their map. 

“Or steal” Tom muttered with a mischievous look. 

“We’re not stealing a ship Tom. We need someone to sail it anyway, unless you suddenly learned how?” Tucker scolded. They quickly fell into their familiar routine of teasing argument, gesturing wildly and voices rising despite the amusement in their eyes. 

From her perch on Jordan’s shoulder, Ianite flicked her tail, rolling her eyes at them. Gods this entire journey would be so much simpler if any of them would ever bother asking what skills her Champion had to offer. Then again, he wasn’t likely to tell them. He preferred his privacy, which she respected, but sometimes she felt that he stayed quiet just for the satisfaction of surprising them when he revealed a new talent. 

~

When they arrived at the village, it turned out to not only be a port town, but a bustling one at that. For once, their mixed group doesn’t stand out sorely, the people in the town as varied as they themselves are. They split into groups to restock supplies, get information and hopefully find someone they can charter a ship from. Jordan volunteered to go to the docks because he may not want to tell him of his years of experience sailing but he certainly wasn’t going to let one of the others get tricked or swindled by a greedy pirate. Tucker and Wag join him, Tucker because he likes to think he’s the leader of the group and Wag simply because he is interested in seeing the different ships.

Ianite stood on Jordan’s shoulders as they approached the docks. The air smelled of fish and salt, dozens of boats of all sizes bobbing in the waves. “Milady?” Jordan asked, glancing back at her curiously. “Everything okay?” There was a feeling shuddering down her spine, a familiar pull that she hasn’t felt in years, like the way Jordan felt to her but, different. She leapt from his shoulders and dashed into the crowd, ignoring her Champion's cry of worry. 

~

“So that was weird of her right?” Tucker commented to Wag as they chased Jordan through the crowd. “I mean that cat is always weird but that was extra weird.” For Mianite’s sake when did Jordan get so quick? There were a lot of people to dodge through, he should not be able to lose them this easily. Up ahead he saw Jordan turn sharply and sprint up the ramp of a random ship after his cat. What the actual fuck was going on?

When they finally caught up with him, Jordan had gone still and quiet. His cat was curled in the arms of an old sailor, purring up a storm. The sailor looked just as surprised as Tucker felt but didn’t seem to mind otherwise. 

“Nice cat ya got here lad.” The sailor commented pointedly, lips curled into a slight smile. 

“Skipper?” Jordan breathed. He sounded astonished, as though he was seeing a ghost. 

“Aye, but it be Captain now mate.” The sailor smirked, showing off a golden tooth. 

“And Capsize?” Jordan’s voice was hesitant, as though he was scared of the answer.

“Happily retired. Well not happily, had to force her after she took a bit of a fall. But she’s happy now. Married a fisherman's daughter a while back, two o’ them live in a port town in the Earth Kingdom, started adopting orphans left an’ right. Actually where I be headed.” 

Tucker could see the relief flow through Jordan like a wave, his entire posture changing and relaxing. Admittedly he didn’t know much about Jordan, none of them really did, but he could read a room  ship and figured this must be a guy Jordan knew. 

“These your friends? Or are these just scallywags trying to commandeer me ship?” The Captain asked, nodding towards Wag and him. 

“We’re with him. I’m Tucker, this is Wag.” he glanced at Jordan then decided eh, heck with it, if Jordan knew this guy and he was already headed to the Earth Kingdom he might be able to give them a lift. “We’re trying to find passage to the Earth Kingdom, think you could help us out?”

“Tucker!” Jordan reprimanded. “I’m not going to-”

“‘Course I can help you out mate, long as you're headed my way. Anything for an old friend, ‘specially you Cap.” he directed the last part at Jordan with a one fingered salute. 

“Please I’m not-” Jordan said, shaking his head but then trailing off with a glance towards him and Wag. “Not anymore.” Something changed on the Captain's face but he nodded nonetheless. 

“Either way mate, I'd be happy to take you ‘cross. I be warning ye tho, this ain’t no merchant ship.” He leaned in a bit and smirked “We be pirates.” 

“The only person on this crew that was ever really a pirate was Capsize.” Jordan argued, the gentle melancholy replaced by amusement. The Captain looked at him for a moment then laughed, a deep hearty belly laugh. 

“Aye that do certainly be true! Now then! Skipper! Prepare the cabins, we be having guests on this voyage!” From up above in the rigging a man with stark ginger hair leaned out. 

“Yar! Aye aye Captain!” He answered in a high pitched squeak of a voice, saluting as he began to climb down. 

“That be me First Mate, Skipper Tom.” He leaned in once more, putting a hand to the side of his mouth “He may be a few drops short of a bottle, defected from the Fire Nation Navy and all, but he’s got spirit and having him around certainly beats sailing by meself.” 

“Skipper, I mean, Captain. Are you sure you can take us? It’s not just us three, we have a bit of a crew of our own.” “Jordan Mate, any friends of yours be friends of mine. It be alright. I promise. ‘Sides, not like your Lady here takes up much space.” The cat looked up when she was mentioned and meowed once before snuggling back in his arm. “Aye Lass, I have just the place for ye. Hows about two of ye go find your friends and one of ye can stay behind and help me get the ship ready?” 

“I’ll-” Tucker started to volunteer to stay but Wag had already grabbed his hand.

“Tucker and I will go find the others. You stay here Jordan.” Wag said, nodding to Jordan. There was a spark of gratitude in Jordan’s eyes but he didn’t say thank you, not outright at least. 

“Any supplies we can get for you Captain? As payment for taking us?” Wag asked. 

“I’m sure whatever yer friends already be getting will be fine. Just be sure ye be back before sundown. It ain’t smart to set sail after dark.” 

~

Once Tucker and Wag had left, Jordan expected questions. Instead Skipper, no he had to remember, he was Captain Redbeard now, gently set Ianite down on a nearby barrel. “Ye still remember how to sail mate? Me thinks it’s probably been a while.” It was the only hint he made at acknowledging that something was strange. 

He fell into the rhythm of preparing a ship to sail easily enough. Sure he had to retie a few knots and needed Skipper Tom’s help to run some of the rigging but by the time the others arrived his hands and body had remembered what to do. From the looks they gave him as he slid down a rope from the mast, Tucker had told them at least whatever he thought he knew and they wanted to hear the rest from Jordan himself. Before any of them can open their mouths to ask, Redbeard is shouting for Skipper Tom to raise the anchor and for Jordan to help with the sails. He goes without hesitating, more than happy to put off the explanations as long as possible. 

They leave port as the sun is setting though the light of the nearly full moon is plenty to guide their way. Jordan managed to avoid explanations by sticking close to Redbeard. He knew the others wouldn’t let their questions go but they would at least relax their desire to know now if he ignored them long enough. They should be used to him doing it enough by now. 

“With a moon this full I’d ask ye or yer airbending friends to give us a little boost but ye’d rather stay out longer wouldn’t ye?” Redbeard commented knowingly, a hand loose on the wheel. They are standing at the helm together, most of the others below deck trying to get some sleep. Wag and Dec are up top still, chatting to each other over a game of sticks and pebbles but with the sound of the wind it's loud enough that they won’t hear what’s being said. “How long has it been lad?” 

“I’m not sure.” Jordan admitted quietly. “How old are you now?” 

“Old enough.” Redbeard chuckled. “Old enough.” he reached down to scratch at Ianite’s head. She’d draped herself just in front of the wheel on a wide banister that allowed her a view of the entire deck. She’d missed the feeling of sailing just as much it seemed, barely stumbling as it rocked back and forth. “Care to tell me what happened?” 

“Not really.” Jordan replied. 

“Fair be it mate. Then how abouts the story of how ye ended up travelling with the Avatar?” 

“They found me. I wasn’t going to help them at first but Milady insisted. If I had my way, I’d still be back home in my treehouse.” 

“But ye’d also be alone. No offense to ye of course lass.” He conceded when Ianite turned to look at him. “I know ye Captain, ye need friends in your life.” 

“I’m not a Captain anymore. I haven’t been in a very long time.” 

“Ye will always be a Captain, even if ye don’t think ye are. ‘Tis not about the title, ‘tis about the way ye carry yourself. Ye are at home out here mate, on the seas. If once ye all have won yer battle, ye be looking for somewhere to go, know ye will always have a place aboard me ship.” 

Jordan sighed but then gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks Skipper, I mean, Captain.”

“Of course mate. Now, reckon ye can manage to keep her steady while I get some sleep?”

Jordan grabbed the wheel from him and nodded “Aye Aye Captain.” 

~

Of everyone, Karl imagined he related to Jordan the least. They were opposite elements, opposite personalities and had, from what very little Karl knew about him, very different approaches to life. Karl had spent all his life trying to prove himself as a worthy Champion to Mianite, to create a name for himself the same as Tucker and Tom had. He was loud, outgoing and easy to read, an open book he liked to claim. Jordan on the other hand was quiet, reserved, and secretive. From what Karl had seen, Jordan could kick any of their asses in a fight without breaking a sweat. So why was he so timid? He should have confidence through the metaphorical roof. It was a mystery. 

He realized as he watched Jordan move around the ship, that the waterbender did have plenty of confidence. He walked without falter while the rest of them barely kept their feet. He climbed and swung through the riggings like he'd been born to do it. He was the most comfortable Karl had ever seen him. He clearly had some sort of history with sailing, the fact that the Captain of the ship treated him like an old friend only solidified the theory. But why then had he been hiding away in a deep forest? 

“Your owner is a mystery, you know that right?” Karl told Lady, feeding her a piece from the fish he was busy butchering. He wasn’t sure how but he knew the cat understood them when they spoke to her, there was something strange about her as well. The pair of them were just oddities. She chirped at him, tail flicking and eyes focused on the fish. “Was he a pirate before you both moved to the forest? That why he’s so comfortable on the ship?” She didn’t answer, abruptly licking at her paw. He chuckled to himself, cutting off another piece of fish for her “Fair enough. Guess we all get to keep our secrets.” 

~

It only took until the second day for boredom to begin to set in. On the first day, the novelty of being on a ship and exploring it had been enough but now that the novelty had worn off... 

“Jordan! Spar with me!” Tom shouted up at Jordan. The waterbender was lounging on the crossbeam of the foremast, apparently completely unconcerned by how high in the air he was. He sat up, looked down at Tom, then promptly ignored him.

“Jordannnn!” Tom whined. 

“Give it up Tom, you can’t even bend out here anyway. He’d kick your ass.” Tucker commented, he was also lounging back, hat pulled forward over his eyes and hands behind his head. 

“I’ll spar with you.” Karl offered. “Promised the Captain I wouldn’t bend anyway.” Tom grinned and was leaping at him in an instant. Soon enough the others were watching from their various positions around the ship. They may all claim to be uninterested but there was a reason all of them were some of the best at their respective talents. Karl wins, just barely, and then Sonja is on her feet calling out “Me next!” Unlike Karl and Tom’s duel, Sonja and Wag send gusts of wind across the ship and through the rigging, the sails rippling. Both step and twirl with their element, counterbalancing against the motion of the ship with each move. They declare a tie in the end, bowing to each other with wide smiles. Dec throws Tucker a staff and the two of them engage, the clacking of the wood ringing across the water. It’s a spar that is slightly less than fair, Tucker had far less training with physical weapons than Dec did, but that doesn’t stop him from giving it his all. Their battle leads them all over the ship, up on the railings and across the deck. From his position at the helm, the Captain simply ducks under the swing of a staff, grinning just as big as the rest of them. Tucker missteps, his foot getting caught in a rope and sending him backwards. Dec grabs his hand to slow his fall but still puts him on the deck, staff poised over him. The only one left who hasn’t fought is Jordan and as if of one mind, they all look up to where he’s sitting.

He’s got a grin on his face and his outer shirt shrugged off. Of them all, he’s got the biggest advantage and he knows it, both in bending and in familiarity with the current environment. They fall into their respective stances as he gets to his feet and then he suddenly sprints across the crossbeam. They watch as without pause he grabs a hold of a rope and leaps, swinging down and then out across the water. He let go, diving through the air and into the water with hardly a splash. 

It’s a playful massacre after that, all of them heaving with breath and laughter, absolutely drenched with seawater. Jordan is no exception, he’s standing between them all, breathing just as hard but with a grin a mile wide on his face. The entire game had done wonders for their boredom as well as dissipating the strange tension that had surrounded over them since they’d embarked. 

Jordan sat among them at dinnertime instead of alone like he had the nights prior. They did their best not to react when he quietly said “Redbeard and I learned to sail under the same Captain.” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten a hint to his past but it is the first time he’s brought something up of his own accord. 

“Aye.” The Captain agreed, raising his mug of grog with a smile. “Best Pirate Captain you ever did see.”

“Capsize was a friend of mine when I was young. She and her crew came to the port near my village and offered to teach me to sail. Redbeard was the Skipper aboard the ship at the time. I owe her a lot.”

“As do I lad. We certainly ain’t the only ones. ‘Tis why I make a point to go and visit her, even if it do be out of me way.” 

The others stayed silent as Jordan and Redbeard reminisced back and forth, both out of interest to hear what it had been like for Redbeard to grow up on this ship but also for the glimpses it offered into Jordan’s past. They all knew better at this point than to pry or attempt to get anything from him easily. Eventually Jordan seemed to notice none of them were speaking up and quickly apologized, almost visibly drawing in on himself. 

“You’re alright mate, nothing to be sorry for.” Dec assured him with a gentle smile. “You know, I once knew a pirate lord who called himself Hermod. Though admittedly he was also quite the notorious liar so not sure how much stake I put in him actually being a lord like he claimed..” And then Dec was off, telling his own story. He was perceptive in a way the others often weren’t, able to diffuse building tensions before they even fully formed. It was why he made a good priest to the Gods and a good friend.

~

It's barely dawn when the ship shudders beneath them. There’s shouting from above and when they stumble from their hammocks onto the deck, Captain Redbeard, Skipper Tom and Jordan are running around like mad. 

“What’s going on!?” Tucker speaks up for all of them. 

“Fire Nation ship on the horizon, heading towards us and fast.” Jordan explained quickly as he tied a rope down. “We’re going to try and outrun them but odds aren’t good. Their engine is faster than our sails could ever be.” 

“What can we do to help?” Tom asked. 

Jordan paused for just a moment, looking at the Captain. “I’ll take care of the steering lad! You keep us afloat!” The Pirate called, Jordan nodding in agreement. 

“Tom, Tucker, Dec, tie down everything loose. We don’t want any weight shifting around. Wag, Karl, you two work on defending against any projectiles that may come our way. Expect fireballs at the very least. Sonja, you’re with me. We’re going to try and keep them off of us as long as we can.” 

They scattered to their assigned tasks and for once no one even considers questioning. Not even Tom, who normally would question an order from anyone but his God, says a word. They are putting their faith in Jordan’s expertise even though they have no idea to what extent he knows what he’s doing. It’s not quite blind faith, he’d proven that he knew his way around a ship, but it’s faith in skills that they only know part of. It’s all they have right now though, so it was good enough.

“Coming about!” The Captain called, heaving the wheel hard to the side. The boom swings across the deck as the sails turn. “Give ‘er some help!” Together Wag and Sonja send a huge gust of air into the mainsail, steadying the turn and speeding it up. Their ship is smaller than the one they are facing and more maneuverable. It would be faster if not for the presence of an engine, the opposing ship belching a plume of steam into the air from it’s central column. 

The moment they are facing the Fire Nation head on, the barrage begins. Fireballs the size of small boulders come sailing towards them, one after another. Together Wag and Karl manage to deflect them into the sea, each one sending up a massive splash and burst of sizzling steam as it hits the water. 

“This would be easier if they’d come overnight. The moon was full.” Jordan said, more to himself than to Sonja. He fell into his bending stance and she stepped into a mirror copy beside him. “You understand the plan?” The Avatar nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath. This would be the largest attempt at waterbending she’d done thus far. Up until now she’d worked primarily in small amounts, starting small with her practice. This was throwing her straight into the deep end and hoping she’d swim. 

“You’ve got this. Trust what you’ve learned.” Jordan reassured her. “Block everything else out. Focus on the water.” 

“On my mark.” He muttered softly. Their ship faded from around and below her, she could only feel the water, the waves. She let the sounds around them disappear, stretching out to feel the flow of the sea beneath them. She could feel it’s potential, what it was capable of doing, the strength it held. 

“Now!” He said and they both moved into action, pulling and lifting the sea. It wrapped around the sides of the Fire Nation ship like an enormous sea monster from legend. The waves crashed on the deck and then all at once, both Jordan and Sonja tightened their grasp on the water, freezing it solid. 

“Fill the sails!” Redbeard cried, Wag turned on his heel and sent the strongest gust of wind he could muster into the canvas, the sail bloating from the force and propelling them forward. Sonja stumbled on her feet, Jordan reaching out to steady her. 

“I’m alright.” She said after a moment to catch her breath. “Next step. I’m good.” 

“You go help Wag. We’re almost out of this.” he assured her, running off towards the stern. 

Between the extra air filling the sails and the push of water behind them, they manage to outrun the ship once they have it frozen in place. After nearly an hour of the Fire Nation ship being out of view and several course alterations so they couldn't be followed, Redbeard collapsed against the wheel, flexing his hands after their white-knuckle grasp on the wheel. The rest of them collectively fall to the deck, heart beats slowly calming and adrenaline fading. 

It's Tom who speaks first, raising a victorious fist in the air from his position laying on the deck, crowing “Yo Ho Yo Ho a Pirate's life for me!” 

~

The little detour puts them an extra day off course but eventually they do see land on the horizon. 

“Land ho Captain!” Skipper Tom calls from the crows nest, waving his spyglass wildly. Captain Redbeard nods with a grin. 

They pull into the port town just after midday, all of them lending a helping hand to get the ship tied off and steady. 

“Thank you for your help Captain.” Dec said, reaching out to shake the pirates hand. ��We appreciate you getting us over here.”

“Not a problem at all mate. Any friend o’ Jordan’s be a friend of mine. If ye ever need a ship. I be at yer service.” Redbeard saluted with a grin. “Speakin’ of, ye coming with me mate? I’m sure she’d like ta see ye.” 

Jordan blinked in surprise “I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to, Ow!” His hand went to his ear, rubbing at the spot Ianite had just nipped. He glared at her but sighed “Fine. I’ll go see her.” 

“We’ll wait for you just outside of town Jordan. Take as long as you need.” Dec assured him with a kind nod. 

He watched the rest of them disappear into the crowd, wobbly and laughing as they regained their land legs after days at sea. 

“It’ll be alright mate. Promise.” Redbeard said, laying a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “‘Sides, I think Miss Lady here is excited to see ‘er anyway.” 

Jordan stayed quiet, wringing his hands as he followed Redbeard through the town. Skipper Tom had stayed behind to mind the ship, leaving just the two of them. He lead them just outside the town, to a home with its own dock, a small fishing boat bobbing gently in the waves. 

“Uncle Redbeard!” A child’s voice cried out. From the home, a trio of children came running. Triplets, Jordan realized after a double take. All three looked nearly identical aside from the manner of dress. 

“Ahoy mateys!” Redbeard greeted, crouching down and opening his arms wide so the children could tackle him to the ground. They swarmed him for a moment asking all sorts of questions, barely intelligible in their excitement. 

“Who’re you?” One of them asked, pulling away from Redbeard to look at Jordan. The boy had a sneer of suspicion on his lips, though it was less than threatening considering his age and size.  

“Calm yourself lad, He be a old friend of me and your mum.” 

“You don’t look very old.” Another child said, the girl’s voice high-pitched and accusatory. 

“It don’t be good manners to comment about someone's age Kala but I assure ye, Jordan do be a friend of ours.” She still looked suspicious, turning away with a ‘hmph’. 

“Are you a pirate?” The last child asked, far more politely than both his siblings. 

Jordan shrugged “Not really, but I have been before at one time or another.” 

“You’ll have time to ask all the questions ye want, right now we be needing to see your mum. She inside?” 

“Aye Captain!” all three chriped together in their best impression of pirates, grins on their cheeks. They saluted him with varying levels of propriety then dashed back towards the house on each other's heels. 

“Mom! Uncle Redbeard is here!” The voices preceded their entrance into the home, Redbeard removing his hat as he stepped through the door. 

“Aye? Skipper?” A woman called and Jordan nearly crumpled to his knees. He’d thought he was mentally ready to see Capsize again but suddenly he wanted to run as far as his legs could carry him. Seeing her would only further cement just how much time had passed. He’d had the same gut-twisting realization seeing Redbeard but Capsize was, well she was Capsize. They had been as close as two people could be once upon a time. 

Redbeard’s gentle hand on his shoulder and Ianite’s comforting familiar weight kept him in place, but it did not stop Capsize from dropping her tea tray in shock when she entered the room. 

“Jordan? Mate, be it you?” Her dark eyes were shimmering, wide with astonishment. She was older, of course she was. Her hair was silver now, braided back away from her face. Her skin was deeply wrinkled from years upon years spent in the sun on the sea and instead of her Captains coat she wore a simple pair of trousers and a loose fitting shirt. 

Jordan nodded, suddenly unable to find any words. She crossed the room slowly, as if he might disappear if she moved too fast, then opened her arms to embrace him. 

“Oh mate, I thought ye had died.” She sighed in relief, resting her head against his shoulder. “We all thought the worst when we came back to the village.” She must’ve felt the way he tensed or the way his heartbeat quickened because she fell silent for a long moment. “I just be glad ye are alright.” She pulled back just enough that she could look at Ianite. “And I assume I have ye to thank for that milady?” Ianite stood from his shoulder and crossed to Capsize’s, rubbing her cheek along the old pirates face as she went. “Aye, I be glad to see ye as well. I be glad to see ye both.” She repeated, letting go of Jordan to stroke Ianite. 

“I’ll get another pot o’ tea going, ye both go sit and catch up. I’ve already had me chance.” Redbeard suggested with a smile, nodding towards a small table in the corner. 

“I do be wondering how ye ended up here.” She admitted. 

“Well,” Jordan began, sitting down across from her. Suddenly he realized that these were people who would understand if he were to tell them. They wouldn’t judge him for his actions or the way he’d reacted. They had always cared for him and Ianite like family. Maybe now was the chance to finally get some of what he’d been holding on to for so many years off his chest. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, suddenly unsure. 

“Mate, I don't need the whole tale.” Capsize said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “As much as I want to hear it, if ye ain’t ready to tell it then ye don’t have to.” Their eyes met, her stormy gray eyes so familiar a comfort. “Start with how ye found Redbeard.” She suggested and a weight lifted from his chest. 

“We, me, milady and the ones we are traveling with, needed passage to the Earth Kingdom. It was actually Ianite that found him…” 

Later that night, long after the sun had set, Jordan rejoined the others. They’d set up camp on the outskirts of town, a fire already roaring between them and their chatter greeting Jordan long before he actually saw them. He’d not told Capsize and Redbeard everything, but more of the story had flowed from him than he’d told anyone but Ianite. It had felt good, letting some of the weight go, even if it hadn’t been all of it. 

“Good visit?” Wag asked as Jordan sat down next to him. 

He nodded, shifting Ianite from his shoulders to his lap. She hardly stirred, tail curling around herself as her purring got louder. 

“It’s always good to catch up with old friends.” Wag commented, turning back towards the fire.

Jordan let himself get lost in the banter, listening and just existing among them. He’d been alive long enough for more than one lifetime. Half of one had been spent in Darkness, another with the Pirates and his village and now he had this. It may have been a long road to get here and an even longer road ahead but maybe this time he could actually do some good. 

[chocoholicannanymous]

Plan M (Leverage)

a Leverage series finale AU

As always, I own nothing. This one’s due to the layout of my season 5 DVD set, I kid you not, and what that made me expect from the series finale.

I’m posting this under scraps and snippets, because it kind of is - it’s either a oneshot or the start of something bigger, and it’s totally unchecked. It’s also my first attempt at writing Leverage, and I’m not sure I can live up to the excellence of the source material.

Plan M 

Alec listens to Parker panicking over coms and tries not to join her. Oh, he'd like to, but someone's going to have to keep it together if they're going to make it out, and looks like he's someone.

“Parker. Parker! I need you to take out your earbud, Eliot's too. Okay? And then smash'em.”

“What about the others? What if they're in trouble and need us?”

“If you don't think they can hold it together while we make sure Eliot survives, then I don't know who you've been spending the last couple of years with.”

If he's wrong about what's going down then there'll be time to apologize later. If he's right... Well, if he's right then ain't nobody going to need no apologizing.

Once Parker agrees Alec takes out his own earbud and crushes it with a pair of pliers before turning on Lucille's internal communications system. Once he's made sure Parker's found the giant first aid kit – Alec had started stashing one in Lucille, in every version of her, after the first time Eliot had ended up bleeding for them – and has patched up Eliot somewhat he starts throwing out orders.

“Right, get back into the cabinet where you found the first aid kit, yeah? Feel the upper right corner, front? There's a thumb-print pad.”

Three people are keyed into that pad, three out of five. Maybe it'd have been different once, but when Alec'd put in that secret compartment after DC that's the choice he had made. The three of them together, for better and for worse.

He directs Parker through removing the canister with acid – slowly, carefully – and dropping all three earbuds and their dismantled phones into it before replacing it in the compartment. Next he talks her through remote-triggering a virus in his system to corrupt and erase everything. Once that's done he feels himself relax a little. Things are still bad, only now their chances of getting out safely has gone up a couple of points.

“Okay, good. Great work. Now, please tell me you have a doctor lined up. Someone you haven't shared with the rest of us.”

And this is why he's secretly happy it's Eliot lying there shot instead of Parker. Okay, part of it – Alec's pretty sure he'd be nowhere this calm if it had been Parker bleeding out, plus Eliot would agree that it's better him than Parker or Alec – but. Between the two of them – hell, between all five of'em – Parker's the one most likely to have secret resources. Be it a secret identity unshared, or a warehouse slash safehouse, a stash of money for easy escape, or a doctor. They've all got some backup-plan, and Nate's got a dozen, but Parker's the one who doesn't advertise. And right now that's what they need.

“Hardison? I don't understand.”

“I know, and I wish I had all the answers, and time for them, but truth is I don't. Eliot don't. I'll tell you everything I can once he's safe. So, you have a doctor? Because if not we need to get in contact with Vance. Now.”

That makes Parker go quiet, just like Alec knew she would. Bringing Vance in means Eliot lives, but they lose him anyway. Because Vance'll help, but he won't do it for free. Not when it'd mean getting Eliot Spencer served on a plate. Not when Alec and Parker would go with him, even into hell.

And it would be hell.

“Parker?”

She's got someone, and Alec releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Good. That's another hurdle passed. As he follows Parker's directions he counters with his own. The secret compartment holding the canister of acid also contains a set of bags. Five, even if only three people can access them, because he still hadn't given up hope then.

Parker leaves four of the bags in the duffel they'd been kept in, only taking out Alec's. She'll sort them through later, safely getting rid of what they can't use. She only protests a little at taking the money and ID:s meant for Nate and Sophie, but she knows as well as he does that at least Sophie's got her own backups out there.

“Don't call anyone. Okay? Not Archie. Not Sophie. No one. Just make sure Eliot is fine, and then head out of the country. Vancouver if you can make it, there's a key to a safety deposit box in your bag, if you can't... Anywhere you think is safe. I'll find you. I'll cover your tracks and then I'll find you.”

“Alec? Why can't I contact Sophie? What's wrong?”

He debates what to tell her, because it's such a long and ugly story, but in the end he tells her the truth. There is no other option.

“Nate wasn't honest about this job. It isn't about a medical patent, it's something else. It's... Well, the details don't matter, not now anyway, but he's looking to steal information. Part of it's because it'd pretty much provide a list of which bad guys to after, but I've realized it just as much about getting one over on Sterling.” Nate and his hubris. Deep down Alec has always feared that one day  it'd get them backed into a corner they couldn't get out of. Oh, he hadn't really thought it'd happen, not with the four of them keeping watch, but what you believe and what you fear at 3 am are different animals.

“And before you ask, yeah, I knew. He promised me he'd tell you before anything real went down, and I was stupid enough – flattered enough – to believe him. Only it didn't go like that.”

The truth is that had Parker and Eliot known they'd have played it differently, and Eliot wouldn't be bleeding in the back of Lucille right now. Probably.

And that's just as much on Alec as it is on Nate.

He hated keeping the secret, but he still did. He still believed that Nate knew best, that Nate would look after them. Now... Now he suspects Nate will look after himself, and Sophie, and the rest of the team will only come into consideration if protecting them won't threaten Sophie.

Alec can, reluctantly, understand that. After all, it's sort of what he's doing now, isn't it? He's protecting Parker and Eliot at Nate and Sophie's expense. Doesn't make what Nate's done any more right though.

Doesn't make what Alec has done more right.

“I'd never have gone along with it if I'd thought either of you would be in danger, I need you to believe that, Parker. I would never. You two are the most important thing in the world to me, I would risk that.”

He knows he has though, and it kills him to think he could have stopped this. Eliot's been shot, protecting Parker, and Alec just isn't okay with that. He knows Eliot is, that it's his deal with the universe – his life for theirs, if needed – but it wasn't going to happen like that. It was going to be the three of them, looking out for each other, and now Alec's fucked that up.

If he makes it to Vancouver and they're not there he won't blame them. If he can't find them? He'd deserve it. Because while Eliot's deal was to protect them Alec's deal – Parker's deal – was to protect Eliot. And now Eliot's bleeding out in Lucille because Alec was distracted by Nate's flattery.

He'd thought this was Nate teaching him, showing him how to be a mastermind. How to make sure he could keep them safe. Making plans that didn't need adjusting, that wasn't too involved and elaborate. How to make plan A the working one. Instead it's... it's plan M. Only a plan M where it's not Alec, but instead Eliot.

No. He won't think like that. Not now.

As he pulls to a stop Parker jumps out and runs up to his window. She's hard to read on a good day, which this is definitely not, and Alec can't even begin to figure out what's going through her head right now. He just knows that it's probably better than he deserves, seeing as he's still in one piece.

“You take care of him, okay? And yourself. Be safe, and smart, and don't let anyone get in the way of you getting out alive.

“I love you.”

He pretends not to notice the tears in Parker's eyes as he drives off.

The hunt's on now, Alec knows it, and he's pretty sure that if he could just get his rapid heartbeat to calm down he'd hear sirens all over. He needs to shake them, obviously, but not really. What they tried to pull is too big for the other side to let go. They'll be hunted until they're found, and so Alec needs to be first found and then, but only then, get lost. He's thought about options before – of course he has, because hello? They lost their first and second office due to people coming after them. The chances of it not happening again were never that great. (Alec mourns the brewpub for a second. It might not have been the office he'd have chosen, but it was never about that. The brewpub was for Eliot, and Alec hates that he's losing that.) Anyway, after that he wasn't going to pretend like they didn't need fall-backs.

He flicks through scenarios in his mind, one after the other, discarding them just as fast as he can remember them. They're not bad plans, they're not, it's just that they're very Alec Hardison. They'd work against just about anyone they've ever gone up against, except this time it needs to work not only against the police and Interpol and Sterling. It needs to work against Nate as well.

In the end he decides that only one thing will work against Nate: the kind of plan Nate himself would come up with. Luckily he's got one of those in his back-pocket. (Okay, not actually in his pocket, but almost. Kind of.)

It takes running a red light or ten, but Alec picks up a police tail. Great. That's step one. Next he heads for the docks, speeding more than a little, praying all the while that he can do this. This plan really needs Parker, or Eliot, or both of them. It's made for the three of them, like they promised it'd be, but Alec can adapt. He hopes to hell he can.

As Lucille goes over the edge Alec sends up a prayer to a god he doesn't believe in, fixes Parker and Eliot's faces in his mind and allows Parker's voice to echo through him.

“Better or worse, we change together.”