#and if i ask my mom she might honestly teleport here just to start putting makeup on me lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcrcki · 2 years

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** i will be closing my starter call at this point as i have reached the limits on most of my girls!! i might throw out a smaller call, or if you still want a starter please come let me know and we can plot!! but otherwise, i will most likely just be turning any memes sent tomorrow into more threads !!! but for now this call is CLOSED **

here’s maig, coming in with yet another combination plotting and starter call ,, but extra spicy because it’s for event number 13 !! babey !! this is going to be capped, just to keep my brain happy while trying to get everything done, and i do ask that there be only four requests per mun at a time!! i will be making this permanent for the whole event, so you’re more than welcome to come back and ask for more but for now, that’s my story and i’m sticking to it!! as always though, the number one absolute rule is, please specify who the starter is from and for !!! or else i will no be completely the request!!! keep in mind these starters will not be posted until saturday morning when the event starts, so if you see something crossed out it just means it’s queued :)

as for plotting, simply just hit that heart and i’ll come sliding into your discord dms to get vibes going to how our characters can vibe,, or not, with all these new powers !!!

so read on for how my characters are doing, what their new powers are and some plot vibes for the next week !!!

leia organa || shapeshifting - encanto ( 5 / 4 )

listen, not for nothing, leia is kinda vibing with this. she’s definitely not thrilled about the fact that she’s lost touch with the family through the force, and she’s a little stressed about that. but otherwise? this is kind cool. i mean, she already sneaks out of the white house and away from her detail enough, this is only going to make it easier. catch her just enjoying a lot of freedom

isabelle lightwood

allana solo

jaina solo

luke skywalker

vex de rolo

lin || superspeed - the eternals ( 1 / 4 )

lin’s definitely not too pressed about this whole situation either. she’s not really a huge fan of how this is happening, the whole reality behind it freaking her out, but she does enjoy the fact that she’s getting through work way faster, and she doesn’t have to wait for the bus ??

chihiro ogino

marlene mckinnon || orbing - charmed ( 3 / 4 )

i’m not going to sit here and lie to all of you, marlene is not happy. she could already do all of this teleporting stuff but way easier with her wand, something she knew how to control already. and now you’re telling her she has no magic on top of that? she’s kinda freaking out and would like to just hide in a hole thank you v much

abi mckinnon

felicity mckinnon

alastor moody

omega archeron || telekinesis - stranger things ( 6 / 4 )

okay, hear me out, this is fucking awesome. omega has always felt a little like she’s not good enough, not strong enough, not anything enough because she’s not an enhanced clone, so now? she can do something new and something powerful? she will simply be using and abusing this, i’m so sorry

xie’er

sprite

theo raeken

connor walsh

killian jones

fennec shand

pj halliwell || telepathy and foresight - lotr ( 4 /4 )

reading people’s minds sucks, there she said it. also seeing the future? she had just fucking missed that boat with her mom’s powers. :///// she wants her cupid powers back and honestly if she sees someone using them she’s probably going to go a little wild like “give them back !!!!!!! how do you have them!!!!!!” she is not vibing or having a good time

hughie campbell

nie mingjue

eddie kaspbrek

gwen stacy

rowena ravenclaw || unaffected ( 5 / 4 )

rowena is my one girl who i kept out of the fray. she is already very very confused about this city and is very happy to see that she was not put in any danger with whatever seems to be happening here. will be trying to find a logical reason for why the magic in this city would surge like this though.

benedict bridgerton

blathers

salazar slytherin

blaine anderson

helena ravenclaw

sella palpatine || the force - star wars ( 4 / 4 )

arguably having the worst time out here. especially out of my girls. a little backstory, at this point in her story, sella is simply terrified of the force. it was used to kill her, her brother is telling her all about how there are people who use it that steal children, and honestly she is just simply afraid of anything to do with this. so when she realizes she can do it, she will be inconsolable. good luck :)

sheev palpatine

winter celchu

hope mikaelson

luke skywalker?

sophie hatter || mediumship / evocation - tua ( 3 / 4 )

bad, bad, very bad, very scary. sophie doesn’t really like magic to begin with, especially not magic messing with them. it’s totally fine for howl or calcifer to do magic, sure, but keep it very very far from them. and now seeing ghosts? that’s horrifying and sophie is terrified. this week will be Bad.

chihiro ogino

noah czerny

cordelia goode

suki || alchemy - full metal alchemist ( 4 / 4 )

tbh, she’s kinda liking it kinda like ‘is this why people are always like so psyched about being able to use powers’ will be using and abusing these powers as well, this seems very fun. someone come teach her how to do this cause she wants to get the most out of it.

katara

edward elric

ty lee

prince zuko

tatum riley || mood altering - twilight ( 4 / 4 )

listen, it’s kinda freaking her out, but also ? this is very fun. she will probably be messing with people a lot, so like please lmk if you want your characters mood altered cause she’s going to be having a lot of fun over it. this is so far out of what she’s used to, she might just think she’s dreaming but it will definitely be a very fun dream

buffy summers

randy meeks

prince eric

kirby reed

#hw: starter call #hw: plot call #long post tw #hwevent13

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bigscaryblueberry · 3 years

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(OK, I think I feel ready to elaborate now... Major Chapter 2 spoilers, as well as some spoilers for what I’m planning on my blog, under the cut. Please do not read it if you haven’t played through Chapter 2 yet. And if you have played through Chapter 2, I will ask you to proceed with caution if you liked the antagonist of the chapter, as I have some... Criticisms.)

(OK, so first of all, it was great to see Spade King again! His personality felt very close to how I interpreted him, too! Like, it wasn’t just Spade King... It felt like it was MY Spade King. It made me so happy... But that aside of course, with it being revealed that Card Castle physically became the classroom and therefore “disappeared” upon closing the fountain, not just teleporting you back to the Light World, that puts a huge wrench in everything I’ve done on this blog so far, purely because my blog took place in Card Castle’s basement after the fountain was sealed. So, my solution... Unfortunately, it might just have to be the old “it was all a dream” cop-out. I know, I know, it sucks... No one likes this trope, and I don’t like having to do it. But it’s the only way I think I can progress logically without having to reset the whole blog and start over from scratch, which I never ever want to be forced to do. And if it’s any consolation, Spade King’s character development will remain intact from the memories of his dream, and his previous answers will not be retconned either (although answers involving other things that happened after his imprisonment, such as Lancer giving him salsa and being allowed to brush his teeth while caged, will also just be part of his dream). He will lose all gifts given to him, sadly, but that can’t be helped.)

(That being said, I am still confused by this revelation, since some dialogue in Chapter 1, particularly from Seam, implies that Card Castle and its inhabitants existed and lived their lives before the Knight came and created the Dark Fountain. So I don’t know what this implies, or how it will affect my headcanons for Spade King’s past... I will have to think about this for a while.)

(Now, the... More unfortunate thing. I was naive in assuming that “the Kanotynes card queen designs are unused” meant that card queens wouldn’t be appearing at all. Because lo and behold, the elephant in the room... Queen. She’s... Weird, really. Not really a true spade. She has a human nose, no belly mouth, and her eye isn’t even spade-shaped! And she’s a robot. So I guess she’s not truly a Spade Queen, but she’s still clearly meant to be similar to them, somewhat... This... Really made me upset, actually. She’s basically the embodiment of everything I was certain Toby Fox WOULDN’T do for the Queen that Jevil spoke of, and yet here we are... And adding insult to injury, Lancer calls her Mom at one point. I don’t understand how she could be his mother, considering everything I just mentioned about her... And she doesn’t even live in the same Dark World location, and would apparently turn to stone if she was in Card Castle instead since that is not her native area. So how the hell...? Man. This has got me really stressed. I had a whole divorce backstory for Spade King, involving my own Kanotynes-based Spade Queen design with a vastly different personality, and now that’s potentially all going down the drain, unless Queen is intended to be separate from the playing cards and not Lancer’s real mother. Or, if Spade King and this canon Queen are also exes, then maybe I could salvage some of my original idea, but... It’s so unclear right now... Ugh, I really just hate this character so much. I actually feel somewhat betrayed by Toby, I trusted him. I thought his worldbuilding and characters would be so much better than this. And I don’t want to make an AU over this, not when I was so adamant on staying true to canon. But I thought I was going to like the canon, so what am I supposed to do? I’m really confused, and honestly heartbroken too. Apologies to anyone who enjoyed this character. Maybe if things turn out ok, then she could grow on me. But as of right now, I just didn’t like it... I’m sorry if my criticisms seem harsh, but I want to be honest about my opinions.)

(Overall, I’m still trying to sort everything out right now, so it may take some time. It might also take a while for me to get back to answering asks, even before I put my timeskip into action, and I might not answer quite as many of the asks in my backlog as I originally planned before the timeskip, as now I think I’d rather save most of them for after the timeskip instead, depending on the context of the question. Apologies for the inconvenience, I hope you understand.)

#ask blog #mod post #lengthy post #deltarune spoilers #negative

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angellesword · 3 years

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SAVE ME | KTH (11)

Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mention of death, kissing, and blood.

SERIES: CHAPTER 10 | CHAPTER 12

*unedited*

The sad thing about carrying the burden of guilt was that you felt as though you didn't deserve to experience good things.

"Who said you have to experience good things?"

The crease on Taehyung's forehead implied that he was looking for an answer, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek.

You honestly had no idea how to answer him.

"Let's just go home, Tae," you said after a long minute of silence.

It was better to give up when you were uncertain, sadly Taehyung was persistent. He wouldn't stop until you gave him an answer.

"You know you're being too hard on yourself, right?" His grip on your forearm was gentle, yet his tone was harsh.

"You know where I stand," your lips were pursed into a straight line. "I don't deserve to see him."

Him.

Him as in your father, or to be exact: your father's grave.

You and Taehyung were currently at Seoul cemetery to finally visit Cha Areum's grave. This was the very first time you went here.

You didn't have the courage to do so back then. However when things between you and Jeongguk started to get better, you realized that maybe it wasn't so bad to face your fear.

But fear was not the same with uncertainty.

Taehyung was suggesting that you should visit your father's grave as well. He said bringing flowers and trying to talk to him while you looked at his headstone might help you to somehow lessen the sadness caging your chest.

You answered him by saying that you were uncertain.

Uncertain if you deserve to experience good things.

Having the chance to talk to your father—even though it was only by pretending as if he could hear you from six feet under—was a form of redemption, like a way to free yourself from guilt of not trying to contact him when he was still alive.

You didn't want that because it would make you to feel better about yourself and feeling better about yourself was similar to experiencing good things.

Again, you felt like you didn't deserve to feel good things.

You didn't even think you deserve to mourn him.

You weren't like Jeongguk. You didn't get to be with your father and you most certainly didn't make him happy.

You didn't make your father happy so it was only fair that guilt was eating you alive.

Except you didn't think that. Deep down, you knew that it was unfair.

When the person you didn't get along with died before you did, other people would accuse you of being hypocritical if they saw that you felt bad.

You would also be left with a pang of regret because you didn't treat the now dead person better when they were still alive.

They didn't treat you better too. So why? Why were you the only one suffering? Why were you the only one left here to dwell on regret?

You hated that this was how the world worked. Couldn't bygones be bygones? Couldn't you really mourn your own father?

But most importantly, you hated that there wasn't any closure between you and your father.

You didn't get the chance to apologize.

And now that Taehyung was giving you the chance to say how sorry you were to your father, you were acting up—thinking that you didn't deserve to technically be 'forgiven'

It was all so confusing.

But you were more confused as to why Taehyung implied that you indeed didn't deserve to experience good things.

Was his reason the same as yours?

Well, it wasn't. Taehyung explained what he thought.

"You know what I come to love and hate about humans?"

You shook you head. You didn't know.

Taehyung pouted his lips, he was trying to light the candle placed on Areum's headstone.

You didn't see the point since the wind was blowing hard.

"It is their goal to always be happy." He groaned when the wind harshly extinguished the fire of the candle again.

He lit another match, refusing to give up.

"Humans are always striving to be happy," he repeated once more. Same thought, different words used.

He claimed that he loved this since he could use this unending desire to tempt them. But Taehyung also hated it because of the discontentment they felt despite having everything provided to them.

Humans didn't have any satisfaction, always aiming for better and greater things.

"Is that wrong?" You arched your brow.

"No." The devil lit another match. "I guess it's just tiring."

You felt like everyone around you kept on speaking things you didn't understand.

Were they complicated or were you just slow?

"Don't you feel tired? You always say you don't deserve good things, but really—" He momentarily stopped lighting the candle just to look at you.

"—it's futile. You associate good things with being happy, right? So what if you just stop." Taehyung dropped the box of matches.

"Stop trying to strive for good things. What if instead of happiness, you just simply seek what's tolerable?"

It was the first time you clearly understood someone without asking them to explain any further.

But he still did. He continued speaking his mind.

"You don't always have to be happy to say that you are living 'the life,' sometimes it's better to just aim for something that is not happy nor sad. As long as you can bear something, it should be enough, right?"

You honestly had no idea why such words were coming from a devil like him.

Was he possessed?

But wait—“Are you telling me to stop classifying things?"

"That's not what I said—oh." Taehyung smiled when he realized what you meant.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

If you didn't categorize what felt good and what felt bad, you wouldn't have to worry about the guilt you felt.

You would just do things because that's what felt right.

Visiting your father was something right.

You owed it to him, not to yourself.

You were apologizing for him and not for yourself.

"For someone who claimed to be the devil, you sure act a lot like you're human," you shook your head, a smile gracing your lips.

You appreciated the things he said even though you knew that he was only doing this to save himself. He probably learned all of this by reading books on how to deal with a suicidal person.

"Whatever," Taehyung rolled his eyes at you. "So what now? Do you wanna visit your father?"

"Probably. But not now,"

Busan was far from Seoul. You would need more than a day if you went there. That's not possible at the moment since you were aware that you had used all of your emergency and vacation leave.

It's about time you stop abusing your privilege as the niece of the owner of Cornelia Hospital.

Unless...

"You can teleport us to Busan, right?"

Taehyung's face crumpled.

"Yeah, about that..." He averted your gaze. "I can't."

"Why?" Was he lying? You had seen him teleport multiple times already.

"Because..." He was crossing his arms as if he was annoyed. "I'm powerless now."

Taehyung explained that it’s because he used all of his power to heal Cha Eun Hye and erase some of her memories from months ago.

"I thought you can only tempt people?"

You were confused. He said devils couldn't harm people without the permission of God.

"Yes, but we can erase memories of people when the reason why it happened was because of us," Tae caressed your left shoulder. "Cha Eun Hye isn't lying, you know? She isn't blaming you for what happened to Areum. She only said those mean things to you because I fed her with lies,"

Taehyung thought that it was only fair to erase those bad memories. This was the reason why Areum's mom kept calling you to make sure you were alright. She had been treating you as if you were her daughter.

She cared for you.

You didn't understand before why she was acting like that, but now you knew.

Mrs. Cha Eun Hye was a good person.

"The last time I used my power was when I teleported your brother back to your apartment. I considered erasing his memories because I know it isn't fair to drag him into my world,"

You agreed. All hell broke loose when Taehyung informed you that Jeongguk knew that the former was a devil.

You were so mad at Taehyung that day, luckily he convinced you that it would benefit your brother since he wouldn't be confused as to why Park Jimin was looking after him.

It all worked out in the end. Jeongguk called you yesterday to say that he was having a good time at Bangtan University. The presence of Park Jimin made his stay there even more fun.

"But I can't use my power anymore because—"

Taehyung wasn't able to finish what he was saying because instead of words, it was blood that came out of his mouth.

"Oh, my God!" Your eyes widened.

Your instinct as a doctor got the best in you. Panic and fear weren't in your system. You only did what you needed to do to help stop the pain he was going through.

"I'm okay," the devil said, stopping you from aiding him.

"This is okay." And then he gestured at his mouth.

You stopped to listen to him.

He explained that he had been going through this for months already. It was normal because he hadn't been back to hell for almost a whole year now.

Taehyung really spent his days by your side. Aside from this, he also hadn't collected any souls since his life connected with yours.

His power came from doing evil things, so now that he's acting like a good boy, his power was diminishing.

"So what should you do now?" You put your hands on your hips. "Do you need to tempt people? Or..." Your eyes dilated.

"Don't tell me you have to collect souls!?" This thought scared you.

You didn't think you could stomach the fact that he had to urge people to kill themselves.

"Nah," luckily Taehyung only let out a hearty laugh at your assumptions.

"It's true that I can just tempt someone, but I can also just give into one of the capital vices,"

The seven deadly sins were evil so it shall do the trick.

"Oh yeah?" The corner of your mouth quirked up. The worry you felt turn to mischief.

At least he didn't have to collect souls.

"What's your vice, then?"

Taehyung took in your appearance. He noticed your furrowed brow, your playful smirk, and the fact that you were just so...

...Beautiful.

"Greed." He simply said, void of any emotion.

You swallowed hard.

"Greed for?" You inched towards him.

Taehyung ran his tongue through his lower lip. Without a warning, he encircled his hands on your waist, pulling your body closer to him.

It caused you to let out a gasp, though he could tell that you weren't really surprised.

You wanted this.

You were playing with fire.

The look you two were exchanging was full of fire too, and this very moment made Taehyung smirk.

It was funny.

Funny that he had to associate bible verse and logic when he was trying to figure out why he wanted to save you.

But as it turned out, he only needed common sense.

What he felt towards you was simple. It was in his nature as the devil after all.

Greed.

Taehyung didn't just care for you.

Taehyung also wanted you.

It was proven to be true by his strong greed to hold your hand, the greed to be with you, the greed to see you, and the greed to...

"Kiss you,"

There was no time to process things.

Taehyung crashed his mouth against yours, finally giving into his vice.

You tasted sweet, just like he had expected.

You also tasted fire, something that was making his body felt hot.

You tasted like wine, making him feel drunk on happiness.

He was the hypocrite here.

He hated humans for always wanting more, but he was just like them—always craving more.

Taehyung craved you and boy he could only hope that you craved him too.

He didn't have to hope actually, at least not when you decided to kiss him back.

It was clear.

You were greedy too.

#ficswithluv #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #bts taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung series #taehyung devil au #devil taehyung #demon taehyung #taehyung fantasy au #taehyung roommate au #roommate taehyung

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minister-for-femslash · 4 years

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Summary: After Jester tells the Nein what she saw while scrying, Yasha and Beau try to deal with how they feel about this latest revelation and find themselves leaning on each other in order to do so.

Pairing: Beau/Yasha

Word Count: 2,646

Warnings: Spoilers up to and including Campaign 2 Episode 111

There's silence as Jester finishes telling them what she saw. Molly. Several looks pass between them, full of worry and concern, and maybe a hint of fear, but none of them speak, none of them know what to say.

Beau feels Yasha's grip tighten, her fingers squeezing so much that it hurts. There are obvious tears in Yasha's eyes and Beau makes a decision.

“We need a minute.” Beau turns and the two of them walk away from the rest of the Nein. Nobody tries to stop them and when they're far enough away, with the rain falling heavily down upon them, they reach for each other, holding each other tight.

They stay there for a while, slowly sinking further into the other's embrace, until eventually the rest of the Nein begin to talk, to make plans, their voices rising just enough to make Beau and Yasha pull back, and when Jester makes her way over to them a few moments later they've parted completely, a clear gap between them.

“Caleb thinks we should head back to Zadash, at least until we can figure out where Molly is or what he's doing. Are you okay with that?”

Beau waits, giving Yasha the chance to speak but when she says nothing, Beau nods her head. She takes Yasha's hand once again and the two of them follow Jester back to the rest of the group.

Caleb is already drawing the teleportation circle on the ground. He looks up at her, his eyes asking a thousand questions; questions that Beau doesn't have the answers for, at least not yet, so instead she glances Yasha and subtly shakes her head and Caleb quickly turns away, finishing the rest of the circle, and they all step through.

Caleb makes the mansion for them again. Yasha quickly heads to her room, her hand sliding away from Beau's, leaving her feeling empty and a little alone, but if Yasha needs some time then Beau can understand that and so she stands back, watching as Caleb and Veth show Yeza and Luc around, Luc's obvious excitement over everything, but especially the cats managing, somehow to bring a slight smile to Beau's lips.

“Honey, would you like to see our bedroom?” Veth asks Yeza, with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Beau decides that maybe it's time for her to go to bed as well and with a mutter of a word she floats upwards.

Caleb intercepts her before she can reach her door.

“Beauregard.”

“Yeah.”

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for pushing for us to -” he sighs and averts his gaze - “go and talk to Molly. I understand how upsetting his death was for you, for all of us, and in the moment I didn't see that what I was suggesting hurt you.”

“It's okay. It looks like it was a good thing we went.”

“I was hoping to apologize to Yasha as well, but she's already gone to bed. Maybe I'll wait and talk to her tomorrow.”

“That's probably a good idea. 'Night Caleb.”

“Goodnight Beau.”

He begins to walk away, only to stop. He keeps his back to her as he stares down through the towers, focusing on Jester, Fjord and Caduceus who are still sitting in the dining room. “Do you think it's him?”

Beau takes a moment, she already knows the answer, but she takes the moment anyway, because she needs it, because she knows the words will taste like ash on her tongue. “No. I don't think it's Molly.”

“Me neither.” Caleb walks away.

Beau steps into her room and closes the door behind her. She heads straight for the writing desk and pulls out her mountain of notebooks, determined to write about what just happened, what it means and how it connects to the other threads she's trying to pull together, but all she can manage is a few sentences. Her mind should be swimming, buzzing with the new information but instead it's empty, like all the thoughts have been drained out of her, by confusion, by grief, by the uncertainty of what happens next, and after an hour of sitting and staring at an almost blank piece of paper she gives up, snapping her pencil until three pieces and tossing them onto the desk.

She decides to train instead, pummeling the punching bag, trying to expel whatever it is that she's feeling in a frenzy of sweat, pain and eventually exhaustion.

When her limbs are sore and her brain more fuzzy than when she started, she crashes down onto her bed. Her eyes close and her body sinks into the mattress. Sleep will come in a matter of moments, or it would if there wasn't a knock at that exact moment. It's so gentle that Beau almost doesn't hear it, but she's glad she does because when she drags her tired body to the door she finds Yasha on the other side.

“Hi,” Beau says.

“Hey. I erm... Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. I was still awake. Are you... Do you need something?”

“I can't sleep.”

“Oh. Do you... Do you want to come in?” Beau asks.

“Please, if that's okay.”

“Sure.”

Yasha steps inside and after giving her a few moments to change her mind, Beau slowly closes the door, her mouth going a little dry at the thought that the two of them are alone. She stands back and watches as Yasha moves around the room, finally coming to a stop at the fireplace, that roars into life, and staring into the flames.

“Do you want something to eat?” Beau asks. “You haven't eaten much today.”

“Neither have you.”

“Okay, so lets tell the cats to bring us up some pancakes, and that is not the weirdest thing that I've ever said, if you can believe that.”

“I can believe it, and pancakes would be nice.”

“Or I have pocket bacon? Do you want some pocket bacon?” Beau quickly rummages through her pockets, grabs a couple of strips of bacon, and holds them out for Yasha.

“Thank you.”

Beau asks the cats to bring them up some pancakes and it's as weird as she thought it would be, then her and Yasha settle down in front of the fire.

“Beau, why do you keep bacon in your pockets? Is there a reason?”

“I just really like bacon,” Beau says with a smile, but it's a smile that Yasha doesn't return. “I started doing it back in Kamordah. I had a pretty major fight with my dad and so I left, I just walked right out of the door. I stayed away for about a day, but I was cold and lonely, and honestly starving, so I went back which my dad loved because it proved his whole everything I do is to protect you and therefore it's okay stuff he has going on.”

“He wasn't worried?”

Beau shrug her shoulders. “My mom was worried.” She goes quiet for a moment, actually contemplating the question; if her father was worried then he didn't show it, but she likes to think, no, she wants to hope he was.

“Beau.”

The gentle touch of Yasha's hand on her arm is enough to pull her from her contemplation and she looks up.

“Sorry,” Beau says.

“So, what about the bacon?”

“Oh yeah, I erm, I realised that there were going to be times when I just needed to get out of that house, to just run away and I wasn't always going to know when that was, so I started keeping things I might need to stay away longer, like food, on me. Bacon tastes the best, so pocket bacon.” Beau smiles again and this time Yasha returns it, slowly, but she does return it.

“You know -” Yasha's hand is still on Beau's shoulder, she moves it down, her fingers brushing against the fabric of Beau's robe, until she reaches her hand and grasps it - “you don't have to run from us.”

“I know.”

“Ever.” Yasha's grip on her hand tightens.

“I know.”

“So why did you put that bacon in your pocket last night? You're not planning to...”

“No. No, of course not. Yasha -” Beau shifts forward in her chair - “I'm here with you. For you. With you.” The words come so easily, easier than any words ever have before. “I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Good. That's good.”

Yasha moves forward and for a moment, this small microsecond, Beau is certain that both of them are leaning in at the same time. She holds her breath, a slight quiver on the back of her neck as her eyes close and she waits for what seems at this point inevitable. She can feel Yasha's breath on her lips and her stomach tightens.

The moment is ripped from them by the sound of a soft meow and a gentle tap on metal. The warmth of Yasha's breath disappears and after a moment Beau opens her eyes. Their pancakes have arrived.

Beau takes the pancakes from the ginger cat and thanks them, once again struck by the weirdness of it all. She places the plate on the table between them and Yasha quick digs in. Beau takes a few bites herself but she mostly allows Yasha to eat. Instead she stares up at the stain glass window just above the fire; the image of the Mighty Nein staring out over the fields of the Empire. Beau is in the middle, with Jester and Yasha on either side of her, then Caleb and Veth on the left, Fjord and Caduceus on the right. There's no Molly.

Beau doesn't think that Caleb meant anything by it, he probably didn't want to bring back painful memories, but now, after what they know, his absence from the scene is far too obvious. She wonders if Caleb would mind if she asked for Molly to be added, and then decides against it, choosing to wait until they know what's happened to him.

“It's beautiful,” Yasha says. Most of the pancakes are gone, there are just a few left and she pushes the plate towards Beau to finish.

“What?”

“The window, it's beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Does it move?”

“No, I don't think it does.”

“Oh.”

“That's okay. I kind of prefer it this way.” Beau thinks it's a deliberate choice by Caleb, to create this static moment of happiness, of togetherness that will never change and never disappear. He knows her so well.

Yasha yawns. She tries to hide it but Beau sees.

“Maybe we should try to get some sleep.”

Yasha averts her gaze. “I don't think I want to be alone right now.”

“That's okay, you can, erm, you can -” Beau stutters slightly when Yasha looks up at her and there's a moment of anticipation as they stare each other - “stay here. I mean, only if you want, but you could stay here, maybe. The bed is big enough for, erm, or you could take the bed and I could take the floor or something.”

“I'd like that.” Yasha stands.

Beau hesitates, her hands gripping onto the arms of the chair.

“Is the mirror still above your bed?”

Beau laughs. “I actually haven't had a chance to look yet.”

“Then we should look.”

Yasha disappears into the bedroom and Beau smiles to herself before she stands up and follows her. Yasha's already on the bed by the time Beau gets there, her eyes closed, her boots kicked onto the floor. Beau joins her. She gently sits on the side of the bed and after a quick glance at Yasha and a bite of her own lip she lies down.

The blue rope hangs down and Beau pulls, the curtain sliding away and she's staring at the reflection of the two of them, lying side by side. There's a gap between them, less than an inch, most wouldn't notice, but to Beau it's obvious.

Beau stares at the reflection of Yasha's face; at her hair splayed out across the pillow, at the sharpness of her jaw line, the softness of her lips. Yasha's eyes slowly open and Beau is struck by how beautiful and how bright, despite the sadness, they are. She closes the gap between them, the back of their hands brushing together.

“Do you intend to use it?” Yasha asks.

“I don't know, probably. I mean Caleb went to all this trouble, it would be rude not to and if you can find the right person then this sort of thing can be, well, fun.”

“Any thoughts on who?”

“What?”

I know you've had...” Yasha trails off.

Beau thinks about Keg, and about Reani, and Tori, and while she can imagine all of them being invited into the tower (even Tori), and she can also imagine them being invited into her room, but what she can't imagine is any of them making it here, lying beside her on this bed. Not now.

“Right now, the only person I feel comfortable having in here is you.”

They stare at each other in the mirror.

“That's good, because I like it here. Caleb did a really good job.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“We should do something nice for him, to say thank you. Maybe we could get him some books or some nice parchment and a quill, just a little something to show he's appreciated, you know. He might need it after seeing Trent again.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“We could go tomorrow,” Yasha says. “We have a couple of days before we have to go and see Vess DeRogna.”

Beau feels her stomach tighten. She pulls her gaze away from the mirror, no longer satisfied with just Yasha's reflection and rolls onto her side. “Yasha, are we talking about Caleb because you don't want to talk about Molly?”

“Is that okay?”

Beau wants to say yes. It very much feels like the right answer because it's the answer Yasha wants, but there's this tiny part of her, this small voice in the back of her head begging her not to say it. “I don't know. But if you did want to talk about him then I'm happy to listen.”

Beau stares at Yasha, watching as she takes a breath, and another, and another, and just as Beau thinks she isn't going to get an answer, Yasha also rolls onto her side and they're staring at each other.

“Do you think Cree is forcing him to go somewhere?”

“Jester said that he seemed willing. That he was smiling.”

“You don't think it's him, do you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I can't imagine Molly coming back and him not doing everything he could to find you, to let you know. He cared about you too much not to.”

“Even at end?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if he remembers and he hates me?”

“Yasha, why would...”

“Because I'm the reason he's dead. I could've stopped them from taking us. I should've stopped them, because if I had, you wouldn't have gone after them and Molly wouldn't be dead. It's my fault, why wouldn't he hate me?”

“Yasha, nobody ever blamed you for what happened. The Iron Fucks could've got the drop on any of us, Molly certainly never blamed you. There are a lot of things I didn't know about Molly, clearly, but one thing that I'm certain of is that Molly would never hate you. He loved you.” Beau places her hand on Yasha's shoulders.

“Thank you, Beau,”Yasha says, but there are clearly tears in her eyes.

“And whatever happens next I'm here, okay.” Beau's hand slides from Yasha's shoulder up to the back of her neck and pulls her into a hug. Yasha's hands grab at her waist and the two of them hold each other until sleep eventually takes them.

#critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #critical role spoilers #beau/yasha #fic

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iturbide · 3 years

Note

You know what? You forced me to start planning a huge post breaking down Faye, so for "revenge" I'm asking you to do one for Robin too! >:) (oh and Grima too if you want, it's always great hearing you talk about them)

MISSION: SUCCESS

but I will take this vengeance challenge starting with my boy

How do I feel about this character?

Look. Robin has been my Summoner Support character since the day the system launched. He’s maxed out on dragonflowers at 15. I sacrificed a 5-star exclusive dagger with a high-rarity and very potent A passive to him over any other possible unit I could have given it to. I have written just shy of 500k words of Awakening fanfiction in which Robin is a central figure in every story.

I kind of love Robin a lot. That may, in fact, be an understatement for my feelings.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

Theoretically I could ship just about anyone with Robin (with a few exceptions *coughFrederickcough*) but my big ones are Chrom (naturally) and Sumia! Those two are the ones I most enjoy seeing Robin with since I think they play off one another in really enjoyable ways -- and it’s even better when it’s all three of them together!

Who is my brOTP for this character?

Lissa. I LOVE Robin and Lissa as best friends and confidantes who can tease each other but will always, always have each other’s backs. Robin and Henry being super tight as siblings is another favorite dynamic, Robin and Sully is right up there with Robin and Lissa, and when I’m not shipping them Robin and Sumia as best book buddies is near and dear to my heart. Also Gaius, Libra, Panne, and Kellam -- I love Robin and Kellam bonding so much it does my heart good (which is why so many of these relationships are, in fact, integral to Future Built).

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

oh boy I have a million of these haha but the biggest one that really is an unpopular opinion is that Robin is proud of their Plegian heritage and would never EVER forsake it. I’ve seen a not insignificant amount of fanart that puts Robin into clothing that’s clearly Ylissean in cut, style, and/or pattern, and this drives me up the wall because Robin is canonically one of our very few characters of Plegian heritage, someone who goes around throughout the entire game in a coat that bears the literal emblem of Grima in the eye-patterned sleeves -- something that’s preserved in their Grandmaster class, no less, rather than quietly done away with. That coat is clearly important to them, and deep down -- even with all their memories buried out of direct reach -- I think their cultural heritage as a Plegian is of the utmost importance to them, such that they would only go without some show or sign or it if they were forced to do so.

Basically, in my personal opinion, Robin should always have Plegian touches in whatever they wear but ESPECIALLY if it’s otherwise Ylissean in appearance. Erasing Robin’s Plegian heritage is really gross to me personally, and funny enough, even IntSys didn’t do that for once, so fandom should really have no excuse.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

For Robin? Either meeting their mom should she still be alive, or at least getting back their memories. It does make sense that Robin started the game as an amnesiac because it let us learn through them, and made a lot of the revelations really pack a punch -- but after a certain point? I really, really wish that Robin’s memories would have come back to them so that we could find out more of who they were before and what their experiences had been. Even before a full return of those memories, they could have done simple things, stuff like reactions based on muscle memory or reflexive training that surprise them sometimes, or stated feelings of deja vu -- but later in the game (and supports) I really wish they would have give us something that tells us more about their life; what would be especially nice is if those returning memories involve Grimleal rituals or teachings, because I think it would have been really powerful to have someone we love and care for so much (as our player avatar) shining a better light on the much-maligned faith of Ylisse’s neighboring nation.

I’m very, very biased about that, though.

and BONUS: Grima time

How do I feel about this character?

I’m pretty sure that at one point, if you searched up the #grima tag, mine was one of the top blogs that came up (though I’ve been getting lazy and tagging less by character lately so I’ve fallen out of there). I’m also pretty sure that most of the people following me ended up here because of all the Grima content I started pouring out when the first one dropped in Heroes. Grima is one of those characters who I write about exhaustively and who subtly manages to play a role in most of my Awakening fic, including the ones where they don’t physically appear (I call those Grima Sightings and frankly I would love it if people tried to spot them).

...I think Grima has just taken over a part of my brain and to be perfectly honest I’m okay with that.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

Emmeryn. That’s it. That’s the only character I have ever or frankly will ever ship Grima with because that was already something that came out of left field I literally cannot imagine anyone else managing to spark the same reaction a second time.

Who is my brOTP for this character?

Robin, honestly. I love the idea of Robin and Grima interactions where the two end up becoming close as friends and confidantes, regardless of the situation. Is it kind of heartbreaking when it’s the whole “Grima’s in control and Robin’s in the backseat” situation? Undoubtedly, but it’s also really moving to consider that they might learn how to work together and help each other and work toward a shared purpose.

And also Grima getting parenting advice from Robin in Heroes during the early days of the creche is A+++ in my opinion.

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

Aside from the idea that Grima is in fact the most parental of dragons and broods in the literal chicken sense or my giant conspiracy theory that Grima came to the past to do the same thing Lucina did (avert the ruined future)? It’s probably that Grima is not an instigator of conflict or chaos: they’re antisocial and would prefer to distance themselves for the sake of having some peace and quiet rather than getting dragged into yet more conflict based on human preconceptions or judgments based on appearance.

Fandom at large loves to play Grima as unrelenting evil and constantly in competition with the Awakening folks (especially the Exalted lineage) but...that doesn’t make any sense to me personally? Grima hasn’t really asked for anything that’s happened to them: they’ve been used and abused by humanity by their own admission, and Validar is just the latest in the line to do the same, causing unspeakable harm for the sole purpose of raising Grima to destroy the world at his own bidding. Yeah, maybe Grima doesn’t have the best feelings toward the Exalted Lineage, but also why would Grima be the one picking the fight? If you mess with Grima the Fell Dragon will step up (Vengeful Fighter is their innate B passive in Heroes, quite likely for a reason), but I really don’t see them going out of their way to cause trouble. They just want to be left in peace, but humans really don’t seem to get that. Yes, the fanart can be funny, but it also rings false to me, because I really think Grima would just flat-out ignore the Exalted lineage unless they make the confrontation, at which point Grima won’t hold back.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

First of all I really do wish we could have seen a peaceful resolution with Grima rather than having to destroy them, especially considering that the Fell Dragon really didn’t seem all that interested in hurting anybody even after raising the dragon form (see the aforementioned conspiracy theory). Grima has been hurt so many times throughout their life that I think it would have been deeply meaningful if we could have reached out in an attempt at understanding, to have come to a non-violent resolution, and found peace without someone needing to die for once. When Grima purposefully abstains from nuking the group that poses a threat to their life upon resurrecting their impossibly huge and powerful dragon form and instead flies out over the ocean -- so far they need Naga herself to teleport them -- it kind of says a lot about how much Grima really wants to fight (answer: they clearly don’t).

Other than that, though? Just...give us more of Grima in general. Tell us more about their history, especially the thousand years between their emergence from Thabes Labyrinth and their fall at the hands of the First Exalt. I want to know more of that history, I want to see how they treated the humans that flocked to them, even knowing that those same humans would eventually break Grima’s spirit. We just have so few crumbs about Grima, I want more than anything to get a meal instead.

Give Me a Character

#answered #unsuspecting-person #meme #fire emblem: awakening #robin #grima #i stand by both my ot3 and my crack ship okay #but wow these really got out of hand whoops #i could have written more no less #but i tried to rein it in at least a little bit

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asexual-hugger · 3 years

Text

Mrs. Harrington: *speaking loudly across the crowded ballroom due to a projection spell* On behalf of our family and by special permission from Milton Meyer of the Meyer-Freed fortune, we present Miss Ashley Meyer...Beckett’s new fiancée!

*For a moment there’s silence, and then the entire room bursts into cheers and applause. Everyone, except for three people, reeling in absolute shock from the news*

Beckett: What?!

Allison: What?!

Katrina: What?!

*The room is suddenly smaller. Suffocating. The air is thinning. Allison takes a step back. Then another. Her feet seem to move on their own will. Heading towards the doors.*

Allison: [I have to get out of here!]

*Without fully realizing what’s happening, she’s running, moving swiftly through the sea of masked party guests, their faces drawn to Mrs. Harrington and Ashley Meyer. She can’t think. She can’t focus*

Beckett: Allison...!

*She thinks she hears her name, desperate, pleading, but it’s nothing more than a background sound. She thrusts the door open and disappears into the night*

Allison: Fiancee? How can my boyfriend have a fiancee? What was that woman THINKING???

*The night air is chilly on her skin, but it brings a welcoming relief after the sudden claustrophobic heat of the ballroom. She makes her way to the large fountain and sits down on the outer rim, letting the sounds of the water soothe her aching heart*

Allison: Fiancee. Does Beckett really have a fiancee? He said he would announce me as his girlfriend...in front of everyone!

*She tries to think back to the words Mrs. Harrington had said. The deafening cheers. The looks of shock on Beckett and Katrina’s faces. Beckett hadn’t known. He’d been just as stunned as she was. And Katrina... She, too, had looked as if someone had punched her in the gut. Why now? Why did this have to go down now, at Beckett’s birthday party, where he was about to make the most important announcement of his life?*

Allison: I can’t stay here. I’m clearly a liability to this family. I have to leave, now. *She looks down at her dress and scoffs in disgust* So much for dressing up to fit in with the socialite world. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work.

Voice: Allison!

*Ignoring the far-off sound of her name and the figure running across the lawn towards her, Allison reaches up and squeezes a stone around her neck, immediately transporting her back to Penderghast in a flash of white light. She stumbles when she lands on the common room floor, trying to get her bearings, and she reaches out to grip the corner of a chair to steady herself. The first thing she sees are her friends’ shocked faces*

Shreya: Allison! *She bolts off the couch and races to help her* Here.

Zeph: What, is the party over already? You’ve barely been gone twenty minutes!

Allison: What? No, it was definitely longer than that. *Tears glint on her cheeks, although she does her best to hide them*

Shreya: Allison, what happened? We weren’t expecting you back so soon. Is everything okay?

Allison: No. *She speaks in a soft voice and makes her way out to the room*

Griffin: Oh, my God! Have you been crying?!

Allison: It’s nothing. *She allows Shreya to guide her to the couch and sits down heavily*

Atlas: What happened? *She clenches her hands into fists at her side, glaring* I swear: if Harrington or those obnoxious socialites hurt you in any way—!

Allison: Beckett’s not responsible for it. *She heaves a deep sigh, wiping her tears, Shreya’s arm comforting around her shoulders*

Zeph: Tell us everything.

Allison: Beckett’s mom; she she... she stole the spotlight from under Beckett’s nose by announcing to everyone at the party that he was engaged.

Everyone: WHAT?!

Allison: What I thought was a birthday party just turned into an engagement party, without Beckett’s knowledge. He and Katrina looked just as surprised as I was.

Atlas: Why that...that...conniving...!

Griffin: Who was he engaged to?

Allison: Someone named Ashley Meyer, but I don’t know much else.

Zeph: No. Freaking. WAY!

Allison: You know her?

Zeph: Um, EVERYONE does! She’s only the heir to one of the greatest fortunes in the Attuned world: the Meyer-Freed fortune. She is freaking LOADED!

Allison: Mrs. Harrington actually mentioned the Meyer-Freed fortune in her speech, but by that point I was willing myself to run away as far from them as possible.

Shreya: Oh, Allison, I’m so sorry you had to deal with all of that, and I bet Beckett was bummed that his announcement of you guys dating was thrown for a loop. How humiliating!

Atlas: Of course the Harringtons have to shove an uber rich girl on to their son since money is the only thing these snobs care about! Don’t worry, Allison; you will not be short of public ass-kicking. It’s shame on them if they can’t see the worth that YOU have!

Allison: Thanks, Atlas.

Zeph: God, Allison; I’m so sorry. Is there anything we can do?

Allison: Just sit here with me a while?

Zeph: Of course. We’ll be here as long as you need.

Griffin: So what happens now? Does this mean you and Beckett are over?

Allison: I don’t want us to be over. We’ve barely started dating, and it sounded like his mom really surprised him with the engagement announcement. I...

*Just then there’s a knock at the door*

Shreya: I’ll get it. *she gives Allison a sympathetic look and gets up off the couch to open it. There, standing in the hallway, his suit rumpled and his hair tousled, is Beckett* Well, well. The Boy Wonder actually decides to make an appearance. Thought you’d be too embarrassed to show your face after that crap stunt you pulled, and at your own party, too. Have you stopped to consider how Allison might feel about it all?

Beckett: *tears his mask off, revealing his face. He’s out of breath as if from running, but his eyes look glassy* I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know that my mom was going to do what she did. I’m here to talk to Allison. Can you at least give me the decency to do that before all of you jump down my throat?

Griffin: Hey, Shreya, who is it?

Shreya: *glaring* I’ll give you three guesses.

Beckett: Look, Shreya, just let me talk to her. I can explain everything.

Allison: Beckett??? *she has stood up from the couch and is staring at her boyfriend with surprise*

Beckett: Allison! *he pushes into the room and races over to her, throwing his arms around her and squeezing her tightly against him. She can hear his heart thudding rapidly through his clothes* I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I had no idea my mom was just going to...!

Allison: Why did she do it? Why did she ruin your party like that?

Beckett: I don’t know! God, Allison, I thought I’d lost you! When you ran out of the ballroom after the announcement, I tried going after you, but you were gone! I had to explain everything, but I didn’t think I’d get the chance! I really, really thought I’d lost you! I honestly did not know what my parents had planned tonight! I was going to announce you as my girlfriend like I said, but when my mom...! Can you ever forgive me?

Allison: You don’t need me to forgive you. It was your mom’s doing, not yours. If you say you didn’t know, then you didn’t know. I thought I saw you and Katrina look shocked when the announcement was made. You looked just as surprised as I was!

Beckett: We were. Allison, no matter what happens, if I am to get engaged to anyone, it will be you. It was always you. I could never marry Ashley Meyer. She means nothing to me.

Allison: But I hear she’s filthy rich.

Beckett: Rich, yes, but not girlfriend material. Not for me. I barely know her. I know YOU. YOU are the one I want. After you left, I tried to reason with my parents, and I used whatever time in the spotlight I still had to call off the engagement. I announced it, Allison. I told everyone in that room that it was a mistake, that my fiancee’s name was actually Allison McQueen. I’d never seen the Meyers or my parents look so mortified. Katrina was thrilled, of course, but I teleported back here as quickly as possible before my dad could get security on my tail. That’s why I look so flustered right now.

Allison: You did that for me? But...your fiancee? You referred to me as your fiancee...?

Beckett: I did. I want to marry you, Allison McQueen. Eventually. I want us to have forever together. It’s like I said: if I am to marry anyone, it’s going to be you, no one else. Ashley, money, some business deal my dad made with Ashley’s dad to push us together, none of that ever mattered to me. I want you and only you.

Allison: ...I want you, too. I want to make this work. I don’t want to end things after we’ve barely started just because your parents want to close a business deal. They clearly put their money before your happiness, and that is never right. I want you, Beckett Harrington. I want to be your girlfriend, and maybe one day your fiancee. Whenever you’re ready to ask the question, I’ll be here, waiting.

#choices stories you play #the elementalists #fanfic #pixelberry #choices game

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jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 12

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 12!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “You are all insane,” Everleigh declared blankly.

“We are perfectly sane,” Logan replied.

Remus shrugged. “Well, sane enough...”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

12 | Searching

“No! We can’t just close it!”

“Virgil, there’s nothing we can do.”

“We could find the miracle.”

“That’s an impossible quest and you know it.”

“But there is a chance.”

After Remy told Tanya they needed to close the porthole, Virgil had snapped and was now fighting to keep it open. No one else dared to speak up while the pair argued over the matter. Instead, they just stood to the side, watching with growing anxiety over what the outcome would be.

“If you leave it open then that earl will attack.”

“Not if we find the-”

“There’s nothing you can do, why can’t you accept that?”

The room fell into near-complete silence as everyone waited for Virgil’s reaction. For the moment, he was just standing there stone-faced and staring at Remy. Remy looked uncharacteristically angry. Honestly, the students had seen him upset but never this upset. Still, Virgil just watched him.

“...There is something I can do. That’s why I won’t give up on them.”

Remy’s expression morphed into empathy and regret as he realised what he meant. To Virgil, closing the porthole meant giving up. It meant letting his grandmother die alone in that tower. It meant abandoning an entire realm, a race of people, to a power-hungry usurper. It meant accepting that there was nothing more he could do. And Virgil couldn’t do that.

Before Remy could apologise though, Virgil’s wings sprouted from his back and he flew away. The others were simply left in shock to absorb the meaning of his words.

Remy sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Tanya shrugged. “You could have been a tad more… understanding, but he does need to understand that what he’s suggesting is far too dangerous.”

“...I should go after him-”

“Or maybe it’s better if we go,” Janus interjected, gesturing to the class. “He’s been through a lot. He might not be ready to forgive you just yet.”

Logan nodded. “We’ll make sure he’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“The best thing for Virgil right now would be comfort. You can counsel him later,” Willow said.

Remy sighed and nodded defeatedly. Logan then led Janus, Willow, Patton, Remus, and Roman to where he remembered Virgil’s room was. Or where he hoped was Virgil’s room. He’d been quite overwhelmed last time he was here so he was only 92% sure they were at the right door. Before any of them could knock though, Virgil opened the door and looked like he was leaving with a bag full of supplies.

Logan frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Uh… nowhere.”

“Lying to your friends now, eh? And here we were coming to comfort you,” Janus remarked.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I won’t be talked out of it.”

“Who said we’re here to talk you out of it?” Remus refuted.

“Are you going to try finding the miracle? By yourself?” Patton questioned.

“Maybe…” Virgil muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, you can forget that idea. Because we’re coming with you.” Roman declared.

Virgil looked at the group disbelievingly.

“Come on man, we were ready to follow you into a realm of magic and mystery. We’re not letting you drop us that easily.” Willow remarked.

“Are you guys sure?”

Logan nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re here for you. To support any way we can.”

“Thanks, guys. Now, I’m not sure how to sneak us all out of here.”

“Have you forgotten about magic? We can make a porthole.” Janus reminded him.

“Where to go though?” Roman asked.

“Everleigh,” Willow said. “She should know about or have access to some maps that can help us find the Miracle sooner.”

Logan nodded. “She should actually be at the library working right now. I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

---

“You are all insane,” Everleigh declared blankly.

“We are perfectly sane,” Logan replied.

Remus shrugged. “Well, sane enough...”

“Please Ev,” Willow begged with puppy eyes.

Everleigh squirmed. “Don’t do that face, it makes me agree to anything and you know it.”

“Please~”

“You guys know the Miracle hasn’t been seen in like three thousand years, right? How are you even sure it’s alive?”

“The dream said we needed to find the Miracle, so it must be alive,” Janus stated.

“Come on, Everleigh, this is an important mission. The lives of thousands hang in the balance.” Roman declared.

Everleigh huffed. “Pure pressure and pleading are not going to work, no matter how good you all are at it.”

Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Please. If not for thousands of lives then just for the Queen’s life. She doesn’t deserve the fate she’s facing.”

Everleigh looked at him then glanced at Virgil for a split second before looking at Logan again. “What was she like?”

“Surprisingly held together for someone near their death. She acted quite strong and accepted that this was the end for her, but… her eyes… They were full of mourning. Full of fear. It reminded me of my mom…”

“I’m sorry you had to see her like that,” Virgil said. “My gran and your mom.”

Logan smiled weakly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Everleigh sighed. “Fine. I’ll help you guys. But I’m coming too.”

“It will be dan-”

“Dangerous, I know, but if you don’t let me come along then you’re not going either. Someone needs to keep you all from being completely reckless.”

Logan chuckled. “Fair enough. Welcome to the team, Ev.”

After convincing Everleigh to help them, the team jumped straight into analyzing everything known about the Miracle for clues about it. The main problem was that any primary information was thousands of years old and therefore kept away in the restricted area of the library. This meant that only Everleigh, with her apprenticeship, could read through those articles.

The others didn’t stay idle while she did that though. They took to looking through what was available to the public. By sunset, Virgil was starting to worry about Remy coming to look for them, but that was when Everleigh came through.

“I found something!” She exclaimed. A nearby co-worker shushed her, but she paid them no mind. “Here, check this out.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Volume three of the Quest of Nigel Hawk? What does that have to do with our search?”

“Okay, so I was looking at the primary accounts from people who had met or knew the Miracle. They don’t normally describe it, but those who did, mentioned things like bright silver eyes, dark skin, and feathery wings. It reminded me of one of Nigel’s stories, the one where ze sails to the Misted Isles,” Everleigh explained, opening the book and searching through the pages for whatever she’d found. “Uhhhhh, here! Look at this sketch.”

She turned the book around for everyone to see, and featured on the page was indeed a lovely black and white sketch of a human-like creature. Its skin was shaded dark and its eyes were a light colour that could be silver, and on its back, there were two sets of wings.

Remus tilted his head to the side. “Isn’t that Nitya, the stranger that Nigel met at the harbour?”

“Yes. Nitya and Nigel were both looking to go on an adventure somewhere. Or rather Nigel was looking to go on an adventure and needed a friend for the journey. Nitya happened to be staying at the same inn as zem and the two decided to go together to the Misted Isle. Except, Nitya never returned, Nigel wrote ‘on the day we were meant to sail back to the mainland, Nitya and I were standing together on the beach watching the sunrise. It looked at me and said it would be staying here. It felt that this was the perfect place to spend the rest of its time.’”

“So then, the Miracle aka Nitya is on the Misted Isle. We must go there at once!” Roman enthused.

“How? We can’t make portholes to places we haven’t been, and none of us exactly own a ship.” Janus pointed out.

“Could we make one?” Patton wondered. “I mean, theoretically, by using our magic we could make anything. So, why not a ship to get us to the misted isle?”

Remus lit up. “That’s a perfect idea, Pat! We can’t teleport all the way to the isle, but we could at least get to the harbour. Roman and I were there when we sailed over from Lyrecrest.”

“And using my proficiency in plant magic, I could grow a tree into the perfect shape of a ship,” Roman added.

“Well then, is there anything we need before we go?” Willow asked.

“Food and fresh water, plus maybe a change of clothes, just in case,” Remus listed.

“Alright then, let’s get everything so we can go!”

Following this, the team split up, Everleigh went to her house to get the things, while the others used portholes to grab things from their rooms. While Logan was getting his things together, he felt a sense of unease settle in his gut as he thought about his dad. Sure, Emile had agreed to him going to the fae realm, but going to the Misted Isle was a whole different thing. He decided that he could at least drop by to fill him in, and made a porthole to his room back at the bakery.

Once he stepped through and looked around, he felt a twinge of nostalgia. The room was just the same as he had left it. Still neat and tidy as it had been when he left all those months ago for his first day at the manor. While he knew it hadn’t been all that long ago, he still felt as if it were a distant memory. Gods know he’s made so many more since.

As he was about to open his door, he heard his father speaking, “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Ems, no offence, but I just lost seven kids. Including the freaking crown prince! I can’t calm down.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Remy.”

“But what if they aren’t? What if they run into assassins? Or monsters? Or monster assassins?!”

“Rem-”

“Oh gods! How am I going to explain to Joan that I lost Thomas’s only kid? The heir to the throne!”

“Re-”

“And the other parents. One of them is a freaking dragon! They’ll roast me. Literally!”

“R-”

“What if they end up starving to death? Or getting overly dehydrated? Or poisoned?!”

“Remy!” There was a moment of silence as Emile walked to where Remy was. “I understand. I’m worried about them too. I don’t know what kind of parent wouldn’t be. But you need to calm down dear. Stress isn’t going to help us find them any sooner.”

“...Do you really think they’ll be fine?”

“They do seem to have a… skill for finding trouble. But they always get themselves out of it in the end.”

Remy sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

Quietly, Logan stepped over to his desk and wrote a note for the two adults. Then, he made sure to make a noise that would cause them to come and check the room before he left again through the porthole. He felt guilty for the anxiety he was putting them through, but he hoped that the letter would ease some of their concerns.

---

“You told them where we’re headed?”

“Only that we’ve figured out where and are going to find the Miracle,” Logan replied.

Virgil nodded. He had been feeling a bit guilty about leaving the adults in the dark, so Logan leaving an explanation at the very least eased his conscience. “Well, looks like there’s no turning back now.”

“Technically, we could turn back. The shore isn’t that far away, and with Patton using his water magic proficiency to guide the ship we’re sailing much faster than any normal vessel,” Logan stated.

Virgil smirked. “It’s an expression, L… what do you think the isle will be like?”

“Similar to how Nigel described it. Full of mystery and magical creatures. Maybe we’ll see a unicorn,” Logan mused.

“Would you like to see a unicorn?”

“Perhaps. It would be an interesting encounter.”

“How long have you wanted to see a unicorn?”

“Um, what?”

“I know you like to think of yourself as some emotionless rock, but I can see right through you. You definitely want to see a unicorn for more than because it would be an interesting experience.”

“Seeing a unicorn would be an interesting experience. And perhaps one of the things I’ve always dreamed of doing,” Logan admitted sheepishly. “My mom used to tell me stories about them when I was younger. They were my favourite.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ve never heard you talk much about your mom.”

“Well, I was very young when she passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but I shouldn’t pry.”

“Perhaps… but I don’t mind talking about her with you... I only remember a few things since I was so young. Her stories about magic and adventure. The way she disliked singing but still loved music. Her light laughter and tender voice. How she always comforted me when I felt down.”

“She sounds like she was a wonderful mother.”

Logan smiled softly. “The best… if you don’t mind my asking, what are your parents like?”

“Well, Papa writes a lot of songs in his spare time. Mostly sappy love songs though occasionally he just makes up silly rhymes about any nobles he doesn't like. Dad likes singing too, though he loves acting even more. Whenever he told me stories as a kid he used so many voices and expressions. It was the coolest experience,” Virgil recalled fondly. “...Logan… do you… do you think they’re really gone?”

Logan frowned. “I don’t know. But they must have gone somewhere and wherever that is we’ll find them and bring them back. Until then though, you’re not alone Virgil.”

“...thank you.”

Nothing much else happened that night. The kids slept in shifts aboard the ship as it smoothly glided through the waters in the direction of the misted isle. When the sun rose over the waters to the east, everyone woke up and together ate a small breakfast of their supplies. They didn’t have much to do apart from telling stories or play sitting games as they waited to arrive at their destination. Before noon though, they saw looming on the horizon, an island strangely covered in a mass of fog that made it nearly impossible to actually see the island.

“Here we are, guys. The Misted Isle.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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3rachabffs · 4 years

Text

not a date (maybe a date) ➺ zhang yixing

◦ pairings: yixing x reader

◦ word count: 2.6k

◦ prompt: parent!au + meet messy, exes + “you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

◦ description: when sehun tells you that he convinced his friend to babysit your daughter for you, you can't say that you're thrilled. most of sehun’s friends are exactly like him—partiers, irresponsible, so on and so forth. but meeting said friend puts all your worries to rest.

◦ a/n: cross-posted on ao3

“I can babysit.”

“Sehun, you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

You say that lovingly, of course. Sehun is your best friend and has been since you two were snot-nosed toddlers fighting over who gets to go down the slide first. The only thing that has ever changed in your relationship is that now the two of you fight over who gets to write what editorials for the magazine you work at.

However, you loving him doesn’t change the fact that he’s a semi-irresponsible partier who drinks from dusk until dawn and has no problem with speaking whatever is on his mind, even if it means hurting people’s feelings. As an adult, you can appreciate those traits (to an extent), but imagining him taking care of a child, especially your child… Well, there would be lots of crying and screaming. And that’s only taking Sehun’s reaction into consideration.

“You know,” he replies, “I would take great offense to that if you weren’t one hundred percent correct.”

Sehun spins around in his desk chair and takes a sip of coffee (it’s only 10 AM and he’s already on his third cup, trying to fight the hangover) before promptly turning back around and wiggling his perfectly sculpted eyebrows at you. “I have an idea.”

“Should I be scared?”

“No, no. Of course not.” He pauses, and then sighs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what? I’m not giving you a look.”

“Yes, you definitely are. You’re giving me your “Sehun is stupid and I’m not gonna go along with anything he says” look.”

“This is just my face!”

“No, your eyes are deader than usual.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Just trust me, will you?” And with that Sehun gets up from his chair, smooths out the wrinkles from his suit, and begins to head towards the elevators.

You slowly spin in your own chair to follow his path as he walks, arms crossed disapprovingly across your chest. “And where are you going?”

“To talk to a friend of mine in Art Media. I’ll be right back, babe.”

You can't help but roll your eyes at his antics. You thought he would stop with the pet names after the HR violation but once the higher-ups found out that the two of you weren't dating and Sehun was very much gay, everyone seemed to stop caring about it (including whoever reported the situation in the first place).

Turning back to your desk, you continue typing up the editorial you were working on prior to the whole "need-a-babysitter" fiasco. You're still not quite sure what you're going to do—maybe you should just cancel the cooking class—but that's an issue you can focus on during your lunch break.

Sehun doesn't come back until you're already printing what you wrote so that you can run it upstairs to your editor. You raise an eyebrow at the mischievous smirk on his face.

“What did you do?”

"I got a babysitter for you."

Alarm bells begin to go off in your head immediately. Sehun said the person he was going to talk to was a friend and all the friends you've ever met of his have been exactly like him—partiers, irresponsible, so on and so forth.

Getting out of your chair, you grab Sehun's hand and pull him towards the break room. He follows quietly, but only until the two of you are a safe distance away from the rest of your coworkers. Once you're behind closed doors, however, he pulls his hand away and gives you one of his signature looks, the—

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I appreciate you trying so hard to get a babysitter for me but, Sehun, come on! I've never even met this guy, how am I supposed to trust him with my child?"

"Well, he—"

"Is he one of your clubbing friends? One of the ones you stay out with until 4 am? Oh my god, he's not the friend who drove you home drunk one night, right? Look, I'll find my own sitter, okay? Thanks for trying but you can tell your friend no thanks."

"Or you can."

You practically jump out of your skin at the new voice that interrupts your (one-sided) conversation with Sehun. Leaning against the doorframe is one of the most attractive men you've ever seen, what with his dark, slicked-back hair and proportions that could rival those of a male model.

"I-I'm sorry?" you stutter. "What did you say?"

Sehun claps, looking all too happy for the situation at hand. "Y/N, I'd like to introduce you to Yixing, the friend I was talking about. I brought him with me because I know you would want to meet him."

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that in the next two seconds you'll magically be teleported anywhere other than here. But alas, you are not Dorothy with her magic red heels. So, you decide to be a responsible adult and apologize.

"Yixing, I am so, so sorry for anything you might have overheard. It's just... when it comes to Naeun, I'm so protective."

Yixing, bless his heart, smiles at you and alleviates all of your worries. "Hey, it's alright. I'm the same with my kid, too." The surprise must be written all over your face because he continues, "I'm guessing you didn't expect Sehun to have friends—other than you—that have kids."

"Honestly? I didn't. He's kinda stuck with me since we grew up together, after all."

"Well, let me shock you some more. Another friend of ours, Jongdae, also has a kid."

Turning to Sehun, you cross your arms. "You never thought to introduce me to these friends of yours? People that I could relate to?"

Sehun just shrugs. "Not really."

You roll your eyes. "And that's why I never expect anything from you."

"I like not being held to expectations."

Yixing laughs, amused by your bickering. "Not to interrupt but, Y/N, now that you know I'm not one of his quote-unquote clubbing friends, do you trust me to take care of Naeun? I figured it would be nice for her and my daughter to hang out with one another since they're around the same age."

You take a moment to think but, honestly, it's just for show. In the few minutes you've spent with him, you can tell that he's trustworthy enough to take care of your daughter. "That sounds lovely. What time's your lunch? Maybe we can meet and discuss this further."

"I usually take lunch at 2, but I can fit my schedule with yours. I'm the Art Director so I don't think anyone will fight me on it."

Your jaw drops. "Oh my god, you're the Art Director? I'm sorry, I had no idea."

"It's fine, I don't expect people who aren't in the same department as me to know who I am."

"Right, of course not, I was just surprised.” You give Sehun a look, signaling to him that you want to discuss how he’s friends with the Art Director at a later point. Then, you continue, “Anyways, my lunch is at 1:30, so if that's good for you we can meet then."

"Perfect, I'll meet you in the cafe." With that, he claps Sehun on the shoulder and takes his leave.

Now alone, Sehun focuses all of his attention on you. "Oh, a lunch date, hm? Spicy."

"Sp... Spicy?" You fumble over the word, flabbergasted. "No, no, no, no. Not spicy. It's basically a business meeting. I'm just gonna learn a bit about him, tell him what he needs to know in order to babysit, and let him know what time I'll drop Naeun at his house. That's all."

"I don't know, it kinda sounds like a date to me," Sehun teases.

"In what world does that sound like a date?" Huffing, you push past him and head back to your desk. "Whatever, I need to get my editorial to Minseok. Bug off."

"Y/N and Yixing sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N—"

You hit Sehun on the head using your printed editorial, shushing him. "We're not in kindergarten anymore, Sehun! That's enough, I'm leaving."

"Alright, you minx. Go."

Getting into the elevator, you yell, "I'm not a minx!"

You're instantly swarmed with feelings of regret at your outburst when all of your coworkers turn to look at you and couldn't be more thankful when the elevator doors close.

"So, Naeun is four, right?" Yixing asks.

You take a moment to swallow the bit of sandwich you were chewing before responding. "That's right. And your daughter, Hana, is the same age?

"That's right." Yixing digs into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and takes out his wallet. It only takes him a second for him to locate her picture and hand it to you. "That's her, on her birthday this year."

The girl looks exactly like him, dimples and all. Her hair is a bit lighter though, which you assume is a trait she acquired from her mother.

"If you don't mind me asking, is Hana's mother still in the picture?"

Yixing sighs as he gingerly puts the picture back into his wallet. "No, she's not. She decided that being a mom wasn't her calling and decided to chase her passions in Rome or something like that."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry. That's... wow."

Yixing chuckles, running a hand through his hair and messing it up just enough that a few strands fall perfectly against his forehead. "It's alright. Based on how she acted during the pregnancy, I was expecting the worst. Plus I wouldn't really want her in Hana's life anyway."

"It doesn't sound like you really liked her that much, if I’m being candid."

"No, I guess it doesn't."

The conversation dies down for a few moments as you both take some time to actually eat your lunch. The silence is a comfortable one, which you appreciate. It’s not common for you to feel so at ease with a person you’ve just met.

Yixing starts talking again abruptly. "I think I did love Chengxiao when I was with her. Or at least I believed I did."

You look at him with your cheeks puffed out, mid-bite. You had thought it was a sensitive topic and didn't expect him to continue. Yixing takes one look at you and smiles, handing you a napkin. You take it despite the embarrassed blush on your cheeks. The way he looked at you... It was almost fond. You quickly cast that thought aside, however. Surely you're reading too deeply into things because you’re attracted to him.

"When I met Chengxiao, I was young. 22. I was just starting out at the company and I was so overwhelmed. I was looking for someone to distract me, and she was that person. We dated on and off for months and things got more serious when she got pregnant.

“My parents suggested I marry her, but she didn't want that and honestly, I wasn't sure I did either. I loved her for what she did for me, though. And even more so now that, because of her, I have Hana.

“But she was a wildcard, always looking for her next adventure. It's why I didn't expect her to stay after the pregnancy, but I'm not upset that she left. I don't think she would have loved our daughter the way she deserves to be loved."

Yixing stops, giving you a bashful look. "I'm sorry, you didn't ask for my life story."

You shake your head vehemently, not wanting him to feel like he overstepped by sharing so much with you. "No, no, it's perfectly alright! I'm glad you were comfortable enough to share something like that with me. It really speaks towards your character."

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And what does it say about me?"

"Well..." You pause, wondering where to begin. "It says that you're an incredible father. You care so much about your daughter and obviously put so much thought and care into anything that involves her. It also says that you're kind, almost to a fault. This woman, Chengxiao, she left you. Yet, you're still thankful to her and hold no animosity towards her. I find that to be very admirable."

By the time you're done, you're sure that your face is as red as an apple. Yixing has been paying you rapt attention, staring at you the entire time you spoke. It’s as if everything you had to say was of great importance to him.

Breaking out into a beautiful, dimpled smile, he thanks you. "I'm honored you seem to think of me so highly already. I hope I don't blow it on our next date."

"Our next date...?" Your heart soars.

He nods. "I'd really like to see you again. And not just when you drop Naeun off later."

"I'd really love that."

"What would you think about getting dinner on Friday night? You, me, and the kids."

The fact that he was willing to include Naeun and Hana on your first real date has you beaming. "That sounds perfect. More than perfect."

"I'm so glad."

On that note, Yixing gets up, smoothing out any wrinkles from his suit before throwing out his trash in a nearby garbage. You follow suit and he waits for you inside the elevator, foot holding the door. He presses the buttons for your floors—8 and 11, respectively. A few seconds pass—floor 1, floor 2—when suddenly he turns to you, grabbing you by the waist.

"Can I kiss you?"

You let your body answer for you, capturing his lips with your own. His touch is electric, sending a tingle down your spine. You get so lost in his touch that you don't notice another person getting on the elevator until they clear their throat.

You and Yixing pull away from each other immediately. Flushed and breathing heavily, you share a guilty look, akin to two teenagers who were caught making out underneath the bleachers. The woman who entered the elevator just laughs and shakes her head, before exiting on floor 6.

Soon enough, you arrive to your floor and bid Yixing goodbye.

"See you tonight at 8."

"See you then. I can't wait to meet Naeun."

The doors close, taking Yixing away. You have a strong urge to act like the dramatic lead in a teen romance movie and lean against them so you can slide to the ground in a lovesick daze. But you're not in a movie, you are an adult in your workplace. So, you smooth down your skirt and march over to your desk confidently, ready to tackle the rest of the work you have for the day. No matter how cute Yixing is, you won't let him hinder your performance.

Sehun eyes you as you approach and pounces the second you take a seat. "Tell me everything. I know something happened, you're practically glowing."

You keep your lips shut tight, not wanting to play into his antics. He gasps, taking your silence as an answer in itself. "You two didn't hook up in a storage room or something, did you? That'd be amazing."

Glaring at him, you respond, "No, we didn't." You turn back to your computer, ready to continue your work, but you can feel his stare boring into your side. With a sigh, you concede. "We did kiss in the elevator, though."

"Oh my god, yes! I should become a matchmaker or something, I swear."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Get back to work, slacker."

"Just say thank you."

There are a few colorful words you’d like to say that certainly aren’t even close to being thank you, but you bite your tongue. "Alright. Thank you."

"I better be your best man at the wedding."

"Oh, Sehun, shut up!"

#yixing #zhang yixing #exo smut #yixing smut #exo scenarios #yixing scenarios #exo lay #exo x reader #yixing drabble #yixing one shot #oh sehun #sehun scenarios #sehun smut #sehun one shot #sehun #mine #kpop scenarios

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welcometophu · 3 years

Text

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 14

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 14

[ Previous | First | Next ]

It’s been almost two weeks since Nikita and Alaric disappeared. As peaceful as it is in her dorm room, it’s still strange knowing that Nikita isn’t just with Heather. It’s stranger still how life just goes on and only a few people seem truly worried about the fact that several people—including a professor—have just disappeared.

Even Pels feels like she should be more worried than she is. There’s a part of her that just expects that everything will be fine eventually. She’ll turn around and Nikita will be there, and Coven will happen again, and Dad will push her across campus to join the meetings.

But there is also a tiny part of her that is scared that it can’t be that simple. That there is something she’s ignoring.

“Go check on Rory,” Dad suggests as she climbs the stairs after dinner. “I haven’t seen him down in the dining hall.”

“I’m sure he’s doing fine,” Pels mutters. “He’s got Kit. Besides. It’s not like I can do anything anyway.”

“You underestimate the healing power of company.” Dad blocks the way when she tries to get to her room, nudging her down the hall. She pushes back, but he’s stronger, and she realizes that once again, she’s going where he wants, despite herself.

She makes her way down the hall to the corner room that Alaric and Rory share, and raps on the door.

“It’s unlocked,” Rory calls out, so she nudges it open.

Rory sits on the floor with his back against his dresser, knees drawn up and his guitar across his lap. His toe just barely touches Kit’s rounded back, where Kit’s hunched over, drawing something on the pad across his knees. Serina sits not far away, staring down at a textbook on the floor and doing nothing.

“I just—” Pels almost steps out as soon as she steps in, but Dad blocks her way. “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

Rory shifts, and as soon as the pressure of his foot leaves Kit’s back, Kit looks up, blinking. “Oh. Hi.”

Serina lifts a hand to wiggle her fingers, then picks up the textbook to move it to her lap, staring down at it still.

“Not really,” Rory says. “But I’m panicking less.” He slides his hand down Kit’s back before pushing himself to stand. His hair falls forward, almost covering his face as he looks around. “I can offer you space on the floor or our one desk chair to sit on.”

“Floor’s easier if you want to study with us.” Serina’s voice is flatter than usual, almost listless. “But I’m guessing you aren’t into Chemistry.”

“Not my usual thing, no.” Pels is used to feeling awkward, but the tension in this room is so thick it’s troubling to step further in. She takes the chair Rory indicates, sitting on the edge while Rory sinks back to sit closer to Kit than before, one hand across his back. “I just—I got to thinking at dinner and I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“My family came down,” Rory says. The sound of Kit’s pencil is louder now, faster as Rory leans close to him. Pels isn’t sure Kit’s even aware of his surroundings anymore.

“Your family?” Pels asks.

“My extended family, from Vermont. My Dad grew up in a commune of Mages.” Rory lifts his right hand as he speaks. “They went over Pawel’s house with a fine tooth comb, trying to figure out what they were even doing. I know they were looking into issues with the Shadows, trying to decide what to do next to heal the Split.”

That is entirely Greek to Pels, but she nods along anyway like she doesn’t feel like she’s coming into the middle of a conversation and entirely lacking in antecedents.

“They’re positive no one died,” Rory says. There’s a soft sound from Serina at that. “They think someone might have Traveled, and given that they had three people capable of it, that’s plausible.”

“Mac Teleports. Carolyn Travels through her cards. And Matteson’s a Shadow,” Serina mumbles, tracing something in her book. “So they think they went somewhere. But they still aren’t answering their phones, or talking to us, or coming home, so we don’t know where.”

“But they’re safe,” Rory says firmly. “We’re almost positive that wherever they are, they’re safe.”

“Oh.” Pels is pretty sure she’s supposed to say something sympathetic here, but she has no idea what. “I’m… glad they’re safe. It still seems weird that they haven’t—”

“Right?” Serina looks up, and for just a moment she looks almost like her usual self, a bright light in her eyes. “They should be here. Carolyn should just come tumbling out of wherever and Travel them back. It should be easy. I can’t focus. I need Carolyn to be okay.”

“She’s okay,” Kit mumbles. “I’d know if she wasn’t.”

“That’s good news at least.” Pels stands up, hesitating. “If you hear something else, let me know? I don’t miss the epic fights, but I do worry about Nikita. And everyone else.”

Dad nudges her, and she stumbles forward. She shoots a look over her shoulder, not sure what he’s getting at, and Dad nods at Rory like there’s something she should be doing.

“What?” Pels hisses.

Rory looks confused.

Dad wraps his arms around Pels in a quick hug, and she gets it then. “Oh. Um.” She opens her arms in offering.

Kit ignores her, huffing slightly as Rory rises. Serina looks back at her book. But Rory leans down to wrap his arms around her, his head against the top of hers. He’s skinny enough that even small as she is and reaching up as she has to, she can get her arms around him and try to hug him tight. And he holds on just as tightly in return, clinging to her like she’s a very small teddy bear for several breaths before he finally steps back.

“It’s all going to be okay,” he says, like she’s the one needing reassurance, so she nods to give that back to him.

“If I hear anything from Nikita I’ll let you know,” She says. Dad lets her back up until she’s at the door, and she slips out into the hall, closing the door after herself. There’s a soft strum of a guitar from the inside as she goes.

“Any other errands you want me to run?” Pels murmurs. Dad’s already at the other end of the hall, turning the corner. She hurries after him, expecting to find him heading down the stairs, but instead he’s leaning against the open doorway into the common area, watching as Pat packs things into bags and monitors popcorn in the microwave.

Pat glances over as Pels steps next to Dad, and grins. “Hey, you’re just in time.” He grabs one of the bags off the counter, handing it to her before turning back just in time to turn off the microwave. He juggles the hot bag of popcorn between two hands before dropping it into a canvas bag, and then picking that and the last bag up. “Come on. Trish said she’d bring the drinks.”

Pels glances into the bag as she heads down the stairs. Rolls. Marshmallows. Graham crackers. A box of vanilla wafers. “And we’re bringing food?”

Pat turns as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her. “I appreciate the help carrying things, and yes, you will be fed. That is, as long as you’re interested in hot dogs, popcorn, or s’mores.”

“How weirdly will you look at me if I admit I have never eaten a s’more?” Pels asks. She passes by him as he stares at her. “I’m not joking. It’s not like I’ve ever been camping. Or gone to a lot of bonfires. It’s just one of those things steeped in social mystery that I’ve missed out on.”

“We are going to fix that.” Pat raises a bag, calling out to Jackson as he emerges from a different door further down Townhouse Row.

“Condiments,” Jackson says. “Trish is bringing the drinks, right?”

“Sera said Trish is bringing the drinks,” Pat agrees. “I don’t know if that means alcohol or not.” He casts a sideways glance at Pels. “Let me guess—”

“You would be right,” she admits. “Because there is honestly nothing more sad than drinking alone. Besides. We only had wine in the house, and it wasn’t even good wine.”

She trails after them, Jackson seeming to move his long legs in slow motion to allow Pat to keep up, but Pels still struggles. Pat might claim to be short, but he’s at least a half foot taller than Pels, and it makes a difference when they’re on the move.

They veer off in a direction Pels isn’t familiar with. “The theater is over this way, right?” she asks.

“The theater is on this corner of campus, yes,” Pat waves a hand like he’s giving a tour. “We’re passing by the Arts buildings now. The main auditorium is in there, but the smaller club theater, entirely maintained by students, is the low building coming up on the left. Sera did tech for the fall production, but she’s been too busy this spring. Where we’re going are the gardens beyond that.”

“Gardens?”

Pat starts walking backwards. “Didn’t you walk through the gardens on your tour before you applied? Or during Accepted Students’ Day?”

Pels opens her mouth, then closes it again, lips pressed together in a rueful expression. “How many things do I have to say I never did before you really start looking down on me?” she asks quietly. “I just applied based on reputation, and hoped I’d get in. My Mom came here, although she didn’t get her degree here; she left when she was pregnant with me. I knew it was a place where Talent is accepted, so I figured that people might think I’m weird, but I wouldn’t end up having to leave because of it. I just thought I could be…” She searches for the word and comes up empty. When she looks over, Dad doesn’t offer anything to help. “Background noise,” Pels mumbles, because that’s the closest she can get to what she meant to say.

Pat stops dead. “You should never have to be a side character in your own movie,” he says solemnly. “You aren’t background noise, Pels. You should be loud, and—”

“Please don’t say proud and out because it really sounds like that’s where you’re going with this,” Pels tries to cut him off, but it only makes him laugh.

“I know what it’s like to be quiet,” Pat tells her. He runs back to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her forward as he starts walking again. Jackson moves along beside them, chuckling softly as Pat keeps talking. “I decided that I was never going to be quiet again. I thought that if nobody saw me, everything would work out, and that did not go according to plan.”

“You do have loudest on the floor nailed down,” Pels says dryly.

Pat puts his free hand over his heart. “I’m wounded that you believe that my music is somehow louder than the legendary sound of thunderclaps from your own room.”

“I’m not involved with those,” Pels protests. “You can’t blame me for Nikita and Jennifer. The music is yours, though.”

“Sometimes it’s mine,” Jackson says solemnly.

“Hey, there they are!” Pat’s arm drops away from Pels so he can hurry forward to where Trish, TJ, and Sera are waiting by a wrought iron arch between two head-high pine bushes. “Booze or soda, Trish?”

“Both.” She pats the soft cooler that lies slung across her body by a long strap. “Not a lot though, but my momma raised me right to bring something along to any party.” She looks over as Pels slows down, uncertain about yet another new person. “Pels, right?”

“Pels, right,” Pat confirms. “And Pels, these are the gardens. They don’t have any kind of a fancy name, and according to some people they aren’t nearly as good as the ones at VIT—”

“Look, I’ve been in the gardens at VIT and they live up to their reputation,” TJ talks over him. “They set aside a ten acre plot for these incredible, meticulously fashioned gardens, with hundreds of different kinds of plant life. The trails are fantastic and well-maintained. The brook has three separate places to cross. This is—”

“Like someone let an ancient football field fall to Chaos, and left a fire pit in the middle,” Trish finishes his sentence with a soft laugh. “But we’ve got a fire pit, so who cares?”

“And I’ve reserved it.” TJ brandishes a lighter. “One of the perks of being an RA. So let’s go.”

As soon as Pels ducks under the arch, the tree cover overhead almost blocks out the last rays of the late afternoon sun. The temperature drops in the near darkness, and she has to pull out her phone to use the flashlight to light her way. Even with the dim light that filters through, she trips over a tree root at one point, righting herself as Dad keeps her from faceplanting on the path.

“Thanks,” she murmurs under her breath, thankful that no one seems to have noticed.

The path winds through the trees, eventually opening into a small field that has several benches, along with a large fire pit and a pile of wood nearby. There are a few stones around the edges outside the pit which seem to be there to sit on, and Pat drops his bags next to one and uses it like a table as he starts pulling things out.

“Get building,” he instructs, gesturing at the fire.

TJ looks at him. “You think I know how to build a fire? I’m a city boy, and we do not build fires on the rooftop in New York, thanks.”

“Give me the lighter.” Trish slips it into her pocket, then starts sorting through the wood in the pile. She directs Sera to bring her different pieces, building a stack of wood according to some algorithm Pels does not understand at all.

Pels sits on one of the benches, trying stay out of the way, and also trying to ignore the fact that Dad is sitting next to her, feet on the bench as he perches on the back. He leans down, elbows on his knees. “It’s even a school night, and here you are,” he says. “Your sister would love to hear about this.”

He’s probably right.

Pels waits until the fire is going, flames licking into the air above the pit. Pat spears hotdogs onto metal skewers and hands them out; Jackson puts three on his skewer and holds them in the flames to cook them all at once.

Pat motions for Pels to come closer. “Eat dinner,” he says, offering a skewered dog.

Pels fishes her phone out of her pocket. “Hang on. Can we, uh—” She gestures from the phone to Pat to herself. “For my sister. She’ll never believe me otherwise.”

“Hey, everyone, selfie time!” Pat calls out.

Sera leans over his back, arms on either side of him, her cheek pressed to his. “Oh?”

They all gather around, Pels at the front. When she can’t quite get everyone in frame, Jackson grabs her phone and holds it out and above them to snap several pictures as they make faces at the camera. By the time she’s done, she can easily pick a few to send to Cheyenne. Then she has to add more contacts to her phone and start a brand new group text for the group so she can send the full set of pictures to everyone.

Are you at a cookout? Cheyenne asks.

Illicit underage drinking, hotdogs, and apparently s’mores are on the menu, Pels replies. As Dad informs me, I’m being a real person tonight, acting normal and everything. Not that he’s said all that explicitly, but she’s gotten very good at reading his expressions over the years.

Good for you! Oh. Dad’s calling. I need to go down for dinner.

Cheyenne cuts off with that; even though Pels texts her again, there are no replies.

“I hope everything’s okay with Peter,” she mutters. “I just—I need to get her out of there.” But she can’t. Cheyenne’s just a kid, and Mom’s still the adult, and if that leaves Cheyenne walking on eggshells around Peter, Pels can’t fix that.

Not to mention that Cheyenne is trying to protect Pels and won’t let her do anything.

“Are you going to cook your hotdog?” Sera asks. Her gaze is focused somewhere else, Pels has no idea on what, but it’s not Pels or the fire. Sera’s eyes move, as if she’s tracking something Pels can’t see.

“Oh. Yeah.” Pels shoves her phone back in her pocket and forgets about it for a moment, as TJ helps her find the best spot to heat her hotdog without burning it to a crisp. As soon as she thinks it’s done, Pat is standing next to her with a bun held out, and gesturing to the condiments.

It’s just a hotdog, but it’s weirdly good because of the fire and the company. It’s too hot, a little smoky, and she did burn one side, but it’s still better than anything else she can remember recently. Even those little mini dogs from The Dog Shack.

Pat opens the marshmallows while Pels is still trying to finish her hotdog. He lays out different options on one stone—plain and flavored marshmallows, different kinds of chocolate and peanut butter cups, and two different kinds of graham crackers or vanilla wafers. “We believe in variety,” he says solemnly. “There is no one true way to make a s’more.”

“But if it’s your first, you should go with traditional,” Jackson says, holding a hand up to keep Pat back as he grabs a marshmallow and skewers it. “C’mon, Pels, let’s do this. Then you can try options.”

“All the options,” Pat encourages.

Trish starts laughing. “She’ll be high on sugar.”

“Which does not taste good with beer.” Sera has a can open in her hand, and she makes a face as she alternates bites of crisped marshmallows with swallows from the can. “This is really gross. Who thought of this? Pat, you’re an idiot.”

“I am brilliant, because this is a perfect way to spend a Thursday night,” Pat declares. He might be on his third or fourth s’more; Pels has lost count. She also hasn’t seen him with a beer yet.

Jackson makes Pels feel even smaller than usual, and she readily gives up her skewer to him rather than leaning over the fire to toast the marshmallow herself. She gathers up chocolate and graham crackers as directed, holding them when he places the marshmallow on top, then covering it.

“You seriously haven’t had one before,” he asks.

Pels is well aware of what they are. She’s seen them on shows, she’s seen cereals based on the taste. She once toasted a marshmallow over the flame of a gas stove, until Peter found her trying to clean up the sticky, dripping burnt sugar mess. They’d moved a week later, losing a security deposit because Dad had blown out every light in the kitchen along with one window.

“I seriously have not had one before,” she says solemnly.

She bites into it and immediately regrets it because the molten hot sugar hasn’t cooled enough to eat. She makes a low noise and blows on it hard, but then takes another bite right away because it’s just so good. She realizes she grabbed dark chocolate, but that’s wonderful against the sweetness of the marshmallow. There’s a crisp earthiness to the outer roasted shell of the marshmallow, and the chocolate melts against it, spreading over the graham cracker. Everything crumbles, and she ends up with sticky fingers and a too-full mouth, needing to chew and swallow fast as a low laugh bubbles up. “That’s good,” she says around the remaining mouthful.

Pat shoves a wrapped peanut butter cup in her hand. “Now make another one with this,” he orders, and Pels hastens to do exactly that.

After four s’mores, she’s absolutely positive that she’s had too many. She’s full of energy, her skin itching with the need to get up and do something. Or maybe that’s being surrounded by people, all of whom are talking and shouting over each other, and seemingly unbothered by the way she just observes. They include her without forcing her to speak, and it’s strangely welcome to be able to just be here on the sidelines.

“Yeah, a little. I want to have some new material before I hit the road at the end of May,” Trish says. She’s sitting with her back against one of the large stones, between Sera’s legs. Sera combs her fingers through Trish’s hair, idly braiding it, then combing it free again while looking at something else in the distance.

Pels isn’t sure what the start of that conversation is, then Trish starts singing.

“Whatever I do, wherever I go, I’ll travel the world, to come home to you,” Trish sings. “It’s nowhere near done yet. I’m trying for that feel of being on the road, but knowing you’ve got an anchor to come back to.” She leans her head back, looking up at Sera. “It’s nice knowing there’s always someone there for you.” Her voice is a little slower than Pels remembers, the southern accent a bit thicker.

“We should’ve had you bring the guitar,” Pat says. “You and Jackson on guitar, some of you with good voices, the rest of us just yelling out music because it’s fun.”

“No guitar doesn’t mean no campfire songs.” Jackson’s on the ground as well, leaning back, one shoulder pressed against Pat’s. He gestures, and TJ ends up on the ground next to him, as Jackson loops one arm over his shoulder. Jackson whispers something to TJ, and they both start belting out a song that Pels recognizes as one of Rory’s.

Pat joins in, along with Trish, and Sera jerks to a halt, blinking as she looks down at Trish. Her brow furrows, fingers caught in her hair.

Trish reaches up, touching Sera’s cheek as she grins and keeps singing.

Sera looks over at Pels, brow still furrowed. “We should record this.”

Pels can barely hear her over Pat’s off-key rendition of the song. TJ and Trish are nice to listen to, and Jackson isn’t half bad, but Pat can’t carry a tune to save his life.

Sera continues to look between Trish and TJ, her brow furrowed. Pels wonders if she is recording it, capturing it to whatever hard drive lurks inside her brain.

Maybe an external recording would be nice, too.

Pels gets her phone out and kneels on the ground so she can get them all in frame. They move from one song into the next almost as if it’s planned, and Pels manages to capture that one in full. She stops the recording as Jackson falls back, dragging TJ and Pat with him.

“Thirsty now,” Jackson complains, holding one hand up. Trish puts a can in it, and laughs when Jackson realizes that he can’t lie down and drink at the same time.

“Can I share that video with Rory?” Pels asks.

“It is adorable that you ask permission,” Pat says. “I vote yes.”

“I definitely say yes,” Dad murmurs. “Look at you, sending something to amuse a friend in need.”

Pels waves her hand in Dad’s direction, as if flicking away a mosquito. She sends a quick message to Rory with the video, then decides to send another to Cheyenne saying, Yes, I’m having fun tonight. She’s a little surprised to realize that she hasn’t had a text since Cheyenne said she was going down for dinner, so she adds, You okay? and sends that as well.

She gets back a picture of Cheyenne’s face, barely lit by her desk lamp in a dim room. I’m fine. Just buried in homework. I get to see Dr. Smalls tomorrow. Don’t worry.

It’s an interesting combination of things to say, and really isn’t likely to make Pels worry less.

If anything happened, you’d tell me, right?

She feels awkward sending even that much, like maybe Peter will see Cheyenne’s phone. She doesn’t want to say the word Talent, or Telekinesis at all. She definitely doesn’t want to refer to Peter himself.

I’m okay, seriously. Don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow. Promise.

Pels supposes she has to accept that, even if it’s hard to just let it go.

TJ points up from where he still lies back on the ground, his feet warmed by the fire. Jackson’s sitting up between him and Pat, drinking his beer. Sera’s returned to whatever she was focused on before, but her feet are drawn up cross-legged on the stone, and Trish is stoking the fire.

“If you look up, the sky is clear enough to see the stars,” TJ says. “And planets. That’s Jupiter, right there. It’s crystal clear tonight. Saturn will be, too, but it hasn’t risen yet.”

Trish lowers herself to the ground next to TJ and lies back, raising her own hand and letting TJ adjust it. “Oh. There. I see it now. Hey, aren’t you an Arts major?”

“My mom loved Astronomy. Which, maybe it’s a funny hobby for a dancer, but she used to say how we’re all made of stardust, and that’s how some of us become stars,” TJ says softly. “I think she liked the wordplay, since she was a star on stage. We used to talk about how dance was meant to show our starlight, and I still think of that every time I dance.”

“It’s a pretty image,” Jackson agrees. He sets aside his empty beer and lies back, while Pat pushes himself up one elbow.

“Come on,” Pat says, and Pels isn’t sure if he’s talking to her or Sera. “Come look at the stars.”

Sera meets Pels’s gaze, and for a moment she has a feeling that they might be on the same wavelength. Then Sera heaves a long sigh, tucking dark hair behind an ear studded with piercings. “Fine,” Sera says. As she approaches the group, TJ rolls closer to Jackson, and Sera drops into the space offered, between TJ and Trish.

It looks uncomfortable, being so close.

Pels carefully picks her way around to the other side of Pat and lowers herself to the ground. Her feet are almost too warm, as close to the fire as they are. She wiggles her toes, seeing the fire burning merrily just beyond them, then when Pat nudges her, she looks up to see the stars spread overhead in the clear sky.

“It’s beautiful,” she admits.

“Peaceful,” Pat says. “It’s easy to lie here and just forget about everything else, right?”

Maybe for him. As soon as he says that, thoughts flood in and Pels can’t pick which one to follow first. Nikita’s still missing. She’s intensely confused about watching people interact. Why is Sera petting Trish? Why is TJ snuggling Jackson one second and Sera the next? He’s now on his side with his back to Jackson, holding Sera’s hand as he guides her to see different constellations.

Is this how this is supposed to work?

“I can hear you thinking and you haven’t even had anything to drink,” Dad murmurs, and Pels does her damnedest not to jump at the way he’s crouching next to her, leaning in far too close. “I think they’re all a bit drunk.”

They might be. Pels won’t judge, and honestly, she wasn’t paying that close of attention to who drank how much.

“Just relax for a little while,” Dad says, patting her head.

Pels closes her eyes, exhaling as she tries to let her body relax into the ground. She does it again for good measure, and this time it seems to work, and the voices become background noise as she floats in a sea of darkness and a strange mix of warmth at her toes and the top of her head chilled in the night air.

“I don’t have to understand everything, right?” she whispers. Dad doesn’t respond, but there’s movement next to her, like Pat might have heard her.

“I don’t think it’s possible to understand everything,” Pat murmurs softly. “I think all we can do is try to understand the things that affect us most, and move forward from there.”

It seems like valid advice. Maybe Pels doesn’t need to understand how other people relate to each other. Someday, though, she’s going to have to figure out how other people relate to her.

Someday.

Tonight can be about the s’mores and the stars.

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userdokja · 4 years

Text

Not from around here || Kylo Ren x Reader || Six.

Summary: Reader is from earth, and is also a small writer. What happens if one day she randomly teleports and ends up in space, with people who had laser swords and troops who can’t shoot in the right direction?

Warnings: Curse words, My Writing and Grammar. A bit of Drama but that’s it.

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Masterlist

It took Kylo two days before to come back, you haven't really talked to any of the knights aside from Vircul.

When Kylo arrived he barely talked to you, he was doing so meetings almost all the time, and if not he would be looking for a thing called a Sith Wayfinder.

Everytime the girl appeared you pretended that she wasn't there at all, of course she would try her best to get you to talk to her but you thought it would be safer that way. You couldn't help but meet her gaze though.

"Kylo said you'd be coming with us on the field." Vircul said, he was joined you on your walk around the ship. "Are you prepared for it?"

"The field? But I'm not yet ready." Of course you can beat up some guys here and there after all those.... Intense training with the knights but on the field? Hell no.

"Kylo says you are."

"Yeah well Kylo is wrong-" You were cut off by Vircul.

"Supreme Leader." Your blood ran cold as you turned to the person who blocked your way.

"I was wrong about what?" You felt like you should be scared, reason number one is because the troopers behind Kylo walked away from him, and two, Vircul just became a statue beside you.

"That I'm ready to go out there, I could barely use the force properly. Yesterday I accidentally threw Vir against the wall." You pointed your thumb to the Knight beside you.

"You're still going out there, you need to learn." Kylo said, you could barely hold back yourself from telling him to take off his mask. "Show me what you can do later in the training room."

He walked past you and Vircul without waiting for your reply.

"I am honestly surprised you're not dead yet." Vircul said as you continued walking. "Teach me your ways."

You laughed at him, "He does get mad at me though, but he doesn't do anything... He just yells, like a little kid." You giggled at the thought.

"You like him don't you?" Vircul asked in a low voice.

"Of course I like him, he's cool and can sometimes be a softie."

"No, as in you have a crush on him." When you didn't answer, Vircul got it. "You really like him don't you? I understand though, He's intimidating and has the looks."

"Right, you caught me." You sighed, "Just don't mention it to the others okay?" He nodded and zipped his lips, throwing the invisible key away.

"We need to go now."

----

You watched as Kylo fought with his Knight, his movement always so graceful even when he fought, he wasn't afraid to use actual weapons even if sometimes the blade grazed on his side.

"What did you like about him?" Vircul asked beside you, startling you as well.

"Don't do that you sneaky asshole. Why are you asking anyways?" He just shrugged but still waited for your answer. "Like you said, He... has the looks."

"And?"

"He can be this totally different person, he gives the best hugs-"

"He hugs?" you nodded at him. "Man, I've never imagined him hugging someone, if he did it would be death hugs." You laughed at him again, although you could really see why he thought that. "Are you ever going to tell him?"

"Hell no, his soft hugs might become death hugs. And you know I don't have a chance with him, you know Supreme Leader and all. Besides, it's just a crush nothing serious." Vircul hummed in reply, he was later on called by Cardo to train with him, and his seat was taken by Kuruk.

"You've been sitting there long enough, come on." He stood up again and you followed him, you really didn't want to train today since your nightmares have been eating up your sleep, giving you a headache when you wake up, Kuruk gave you a double sided blade this time. "You don't need to prove yourself to me, but he's here now."

You stared at him blankly, "So? His presence needs to mean something to me?"

"Yes." Kuruk said and started to attack, you blocked his attacks at first before getting back at him, you didn't really know how to use the weapon you have and you were also afraid that you might hurt yourself. He recovered from your attacks quickly and took his chance to try ans take away the weapon from you.

His blade cut the side of your shoulder, and blood started poring out slowly. You thought he was done, but he didn't stop attacking you. "I'm starting to think you want to kill me."

"I want you to do better." He replied and lowered his blade to graze his blade on your leg. You gritted your teeth, your eyes wandered behind him and saw Kylo's eyes on you with furrowed eyebrows and a slight pout on his lips. You sighed and tried to steady yourself as you went back to blocking his attacks.

"I think that's enough, Kuruk." You heard Vircul behind you. "She's hurt."

"Use the force, Y/n. Call to it!" You tried to do what Kuruk said but you could barely focus on him, our arm and leg was throbbing from pain, and you were sure you were making scratched on yourself with the weapon you were using.

"Shit, can we stop for bit?" You asked.

"You don't stop in a fight."

"We're training, goddamnit." You groaned, putting all your strength to your attacks, your legs finally gave out.

"Kuruk." Kylo said in a warning tone, but he didn't listen. "Kuruk!" Kylo's voice echoed throughout the training room, then he finally stopped. Kylo walked over to you and helped you stand up.

"Oh thank god, my arms feels like they're going to disintegrate." You panted, you met Kylo's gaze and you smiled at him.

"All of you will get some rest, your skills are needed tomorrow." Kylo says, "everyone is dismissed."

The knights nodded and picked their belongings before leaving, you were just doing the same before Kylo called your name.

"Yes?" You turned around to face him.

"Make sure to go to the med bay." He said.

"It's just a small cut, I'll take care of it myself. Thank you." You gave him another smile before leaving.

When you went back to your room you took a shower and tried to relax yourself for a bit, but when you walked out there was a nurse with her kit in your room.

"The Supreme Leader sent me here, to properly help you with your wounds." You nodded at her, "You can put on your clothes first ma'am."

You did what she said before laying down your bed, you watched as she put on the bandages on your shoulder and your side after cleaning them properly.

"Thank you." You said to her, she just bowed her head before leaving.

When she left you decided to give your mother a visit, which meant you can't make any trips anymore until next year.

When you got back there was a message on your datapad, It was Kylo saying that he was outside your quarters. You cursed to yourself as you realized that it was sent ten minutes ago.

You hurried to open the door, and there he was. "Sorry to keep you waiting, I just went to my mom."

"It's fine." You both stood there awkwardly before you offered for him to go inside, "No, no I just wanted to see if you're alright."

"Oh, well I'm still breathing." You joked, although you didn't expect him to laugh. "Is there anything else..?"

"Uhm.. I- I had a vision, when i touched your hand. back at the training room." He swallowed a lump on his throat as if he was afraid to tell you about it. "You were in pain, and I was there. I couldn't do anything about it."

"Are you scared that's going to happen?" His grumpy face quickly returned.

"I'm not scared, I simply wanted to inform you about it." You gave him a smirk.

"Right, You waited here for ten minutes just to tell me that?" You teased. "Or did you want to give me a goodnight kiss?"

Your own words surprised you, you didn't know where all the confidence came from, it was his turn to grin at you now, he crouched down a little bit and moved closer to your face until you could feel his breath against your skin.

"goodnight, Y/n." You stared at his eyes for a bit before clearing your throat and backing away.

"goodnight."

----

The next day, you were given an armor which was uncomfortable but it felt safe anyways. You were given a simple sword and a blaster which was on your belt, you boarded the ship everyone was on and sat beside the knights.

When you landed, you realized that you would be on an actual planet for a while, before you got out of the ship Kylo instructed that you stay with him, you followed everything he said without complaining.

You were inside this dark cave, you had a bad feeling about the whole thing but you were probably just nervous about the whole thing. you gripped on the handle of your blade tightly as Kylo lead the way.

"Stop." Kylo whispered. "There's something wrong here."

"What do you mean 'there's something wrong here'?" You whispered back, your blood ran cold as a blaster fired at your direction, barely missing the side of your face.

"Take cover." Kylo dragged you with him behind a wall, he pulled out his lightsaber and turned it on, you could barely see anything else but its red glow. "Just stay behind me."

You nodded, and pulled out your blaster instead of your sword, thankfully, Vircul taught you how to use it inside the ship. Kylo walked forward and you followed him, he deflected the shots with his lightsaber and used the force to throw the others out of the way. While you shot at whoever you could see.

"It's an ambush." You told him. "We need to warn the others."

"We need to get out of here first." Kylo groaned out in pain as a blast hit his shoulder, You both went back to your cover as they continued shooting, You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to think of something. You thought about travelling back to earth, but you've already used your two remaining trips, you looked at Kylo beside you and realized that there was nothing else you could do.

"Kylo." You raised your voice for him to hear.

"What?" He replied.

"Do you trust me?" He was about to ask what for, until he noticed the seriousness in your eyes.

"Of course." You sighed in relief and took his hand in your trembling ones, you pulled him close to you and closed your eyes, and you were gone in a second.

---

A/n: did I do that cliffhanger right? Please let me know what you think, Feedbacks are always appreciated!

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

The Goode Case, 9/14 (Jaida/Jan) - Juno

Chapter Summary: Who is lying to Jaida: Brita or Jackie? Meanwhile, Jaida must help Widow face her grief, and her own spectre.

(A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoy part nine. Thank you for your continued support!)

6.56PM

Brita’s shoulders tensed up suddenly, looking cautiously at the door. Jaida turned to see why.

Crystal was holding the door for Aiden, both of them looking calmer than they had earlier, but they were too far away from the door to catch them. Brita turned back to her wine sharply, while Jaida watched the two of them slowly amble to the bar.

“Oh, so you were messaging Aiden as well, were you?” Jaida smirked.

“Not about coming here,” Brita muttered, her voice hitching with nerves.

Jaida watched as Aiden’s eyes flicked over to the three of them for a split second, before flicking back to Vanessa behind the bar. Crystal was leaning on the bar, pointing at one of the drinks behind it.

Jaida leaned towards Brita. “She looked.”

“She did?”

“Yep.”

“Does you think that mean she’s interested?”

“How the hell am I meant to know that? Ask Jackie, she’s the mind reader.”

“Maybe we should put work aside and just go sit with them,” Jackie suggested.

“Too late,” Jaida muttered, as Crystal and Aiden approached them.

“Hi.” Crystal waved to the three of them crowded in their single seat, giving them a small smile. “Look, this is a bit weird, but … can we sit in the seats here? There’s no other free booths.” Crystal motioned to the spare row of seats.

“Uh, sure,” Brita motioned, and the two students slid into it.

“Thanks,” Crystal nodded. She turned to Jackie. “You called me earlier, is there – is there an update on Gigi?”

“No – “ Jackie leaned a little nearer, and Crystal did too. “But we’re organising an investigation tomorrow, at the house again. Hopefully it can give us more information than yesterday. Can you come? In the afternoon? We may need your …”

“You can see spirits,” Jaida continued, to clarify, “and we could always use more people who can do that!”

“If it will help Gigi, I’ll do anything!” Crystal nodded fervently. “And Aiden too?”

Jackie’s glance flicked to Aiden, lingering a second too long. Jaida felt Jackie stiffen next to her.

“Alright. But no one else, please.” Jackie chewed her bottom lip. “I will send you a message when we know the time.”

Jaida’s phone was ringing, this time with a work tone, but an unknown number. She stepped out of the booth and walked over to the back door, which was a little quieter.

“This is Hall.”

“Hall, this is Lake, from Forensics. How are you?”

“I’m –“

“Great to hear it.” Darienne Lake, Forensics team leader, was well-known for not beating around the bush with pleasantries. “Listen, I can’t get in touch with your case leader, so you will have to do. Sniffer dogs haven’t been able to find anything more than what we’ve already reported from the weekend. No evidence that Georgina went past the guest house.”

“Didn’t you mention this to Brita when she went down earlier?”

“What? No. We did see her, but she just parked up and went into the old guest house for a bit.”

“But – didn’t your guys call her down for something? A lead?”

“We’ve had no leads, Hall. Why would we call her if we’ve had no leads? Look, we’re putting it on email for her as well. Let her know if you hear from her before, will you?”

Darienne disconnected the call without another word, leaving Jaida to frown at her phone.

Brita hadn’t mentioned she’d been to the house. All Jackie had said was that she’d been to Northfield for a lead, but now Lake was saying she hadn’t even called her down. Lake was straight-talking, and Jaida knew she wouldn’t lie.

She had to ask Brita about it.

Jaida looked back at the table. Crystal and Aiden sat opposite Brita and Jackie, looking like the conversation was relaxing around them; even Jackie was starting to appear less tense. How was Jaida meant to approach this?

Crystal eventually picked up her purse and took Aiden’s hand, leading her to the bathrooms. Perfect.

Sliding back into the booth opposite, Jaida cleared her throat.

“Brita, that was Lake from Forensics. You know Lake, right? Tells it how she sees it?”

“How could I not know her?” Brita chuckled.

“She’s going to send you an email from their work today. No leads.”

“Oh, alright.” Brita nodded, chewing her lip.

“None at all.”

“Alright, fine.”

“Nothing all day.”

“What are you trying to say?” Brita muttered.

“You went to the house.”

“You went to the house?” Jackie repeated. “Brita! Why didn’t you tell us? We should have gone with you! You can’t be going alone! Look what happened earlier today, and that was with three of us!”

“I just forgot my torch there,” Brita replied smoothly, patting her bag. “Nothing major. And – ow! – stop trying to read my mind! Why do you think I’m lying?”

“You could have just told Jackie you’d left it, and not that you’d heard from Forensics,” Jaida pointed out. “No big deal. But Lake was just on the phone to me, and she said she hadn’t even called you!”

Brita sighed. “What is wrong with you two? I thought we were working together on this!”

“We are working together! Come on, Brita, you’re being a bit evasive now,” Jackie reasoned, reaching for her arm. “We just want you to be honest with us.”

There was a short silence, until Brita turned in the booth to face Jackie.

“Alright,” she said, “go ahead. Read my mind. Then you can see that all I wanted was the torch. And nothing else happened.”

“Are you sure?”

“We should –“ Brita motioned to the back yard, which was quiet and empty, and Jackie nodded. They slid out of the booth, leaving Jaida alone in the booth with her thoughts.

Crystal and Aiden came back from the bathroom shortly afterwards, looking out the window at Jackie and Brita as they passed.

“Hi, Detective Hall.” Crystal gave another nervous wave.

“Call me Jaida. Now that we’re all doing psychic shit together it might be best to be familiar.”

“Psychic shit,” Aiden muttered, and for the first time since Jaida had seen her, started sniggering.

“So, Jaida,” Crystal said, peering up at her, “have you – I mean, have you seen ghosts for long?”

Jaida cocked an eyebrow. Aiden’s eyes darted between them both.

“I’ve seen them all my life,” Crystal continued. “I have a big family, which means lots of grandparents, great-grandparents who die when you’re young. The first time I saw my great-aunt Rosalia in my room, I thought I was going nuts! So did my mom. She took me for some baptism thing at my church!”

“Really?” Jaida cried.

“Yeah, my mom is very superstitious. Thought it was the devil! She came round eventually. But at first it was so scary to see them all.”

“Oh.”

Jaida wasn’t quite sure how to react to this. In Crystal she’d found – an equal? A confidant, maybe? And for once she didn’t know what to say. Other people around her seemed to be far more open, more comfortable with these truths than Jaida herself was.

She turned to Aiden, hoping to change the subject. “And you don’t, like, teleport or some shit do you?”

Aiden just shook her head quickly, averting her eyes to look into her glass of coke, her shoulders becoming stiff. Crystal gave her a nudge, but Aiden just shook her head again.

“Alright,” Jaida said, “you don’t have to say.”

Brita was striding back inside, having left Jackie out in the garden; and reached for her purse, which was on the seat next to Jaida.

“Jaida, I’m going now.”

“What?” Jaida exclaimed. “Why?”

“Just –“ Brita hissed, motioning to the front door, and Jaida followed Brita out there, both slipping under one of the umbrellas in the bar next door to avoid the rain, which was still coming down. Brita settled a little, but Jaida could see her face was a little red, and her eyes staring at a point in the distance as she spoke.

“I think I’m moving Jackie off the case tomorrow. She’s becoming a liability.”

“What?” Jaida cried. “Liability? I have no idea what you’re talking about now.”

“She hit me, Jai!” Brita motioned to her cheek, and Jaida could sure enough see finger marks in the redness. “Slapped me right across my face! I was just trying to talk to her!”

“She slapped you? Why? That doesn’t sound like Jackie.”

“I don’t know, she’s gone nuts!” Brita’s voice was tense, nervous, her hands jittery in her lap. “I think the whole – ghosts, telepathic stuff – it’s all gotten to her a bit. I think she needs an office role for now. We’ll find Gigi’s body alone.” Brita forced a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Jaida swallowed when Brita said body. “You really think she’s dead?”

“I don’t know what else she can be, sis.” Brita shook her head sadly. “Listen, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m gonna go home. Get some rest. Think about what to do about Jackie.”

Jaida went back into Vanjie’s, which was starting to heave with people, struggling to get at the bar for Happy Hour. At the same booth, Crystal was still in place, with Aiden opposite her, her eyes on her coke, while Jackie sat, dazed, next to Aiden. She grabbed Jackie’s hand and pulled her from the booth, moving away from the bemused students.

“Jackie,” Jaida hissed. “You slapped Brita?”

“What? Did she say that?” Jackie frowned. “Why would she say that?”

“I don’t know, Jackie,” Jaida put her hands on her hips. “But I saw her face, and there was a mark on it! What the hell is wrong with everyone today?” Jaida cried. “Am I the only normal person left?”

Jackie shook her head. “I didn’t though! I was just trying to connect with her, but I don’t – I mean, I didn’t hit her!”

“Did she hit herself then? Did someone else walk up and hit her?” Jaida snapped.

“Jai, you can’t possibly believe that I did that!”

Jaida hoisted up her bag over her shoulder. “Honestly, Jackie, I don’t know what to believe. I’m going home. I’ve had enough already.”

“Jaida!”

But Jaida didn’t look back. She made her way out of the bar and into the torrential rain.

7.50PM

The bus ride seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. Jaida’s thoughts spiralled in her mind, from Brita’s grim acceptance that the case was now a hunt for a body; to Jackie’s startled denial of the accusation of hitting her team leader. But there was no reason Brita should lie about that too. Plus, she had the mark on her face! One of them was lying.

And then Brita’s strange revelation that she had returned, alone to the house. Forgetting her torch was a feasible enough reason to return there, but what had prompted Brita to lie about that? Was she lying about being slapped as well? How had the red mark appeared on her face if she was?

Things were getting stranger and stranger, and Jaida hated it. She felt as if everything was happening around her, with her powerless to control any of it. The paranormal stuff was bad enough to get used to, but all the uncertainty surrounding this case and her team was starting to mess with her mind.

When Jaida got indoors finally, the room was dark, curtains drawn, but the room didn’t feel empty. Switching on the light, she found Widow was sprawled on the couch, one shoe on and one off, staring at Jaida, her eyes glassy. A bottle of red wine sat on the floor, empty and laid on one side.

This was bad. Really bad.

“Widow, what are you doing sitting in the dark?”

“Thinking.” She barely moved. Even her lips didn’t seem to move.

“Have you had any more than that bottle?”

“I had – the whole bottle?” Widow turned slowly to the ground, then made a nonplussed face. “Huh. I had the whole bottle.”

“You hate alcohol. You said yourself it made you do crazy shit, it tore your family apart. You swore off it last year.”

“Do you blame me?” Widow’s voice was slow and bitter.

Jaida shook her head. “No, I don’t, of course not.”

Jaida was a little uneasy, but she came and sat at the edge of the couch to see how Widow would react; to her relief, Widow moved her feet and carefully, slowly sat herself upright. Although her eyes were a little vacant, Widow didn’t actually seem too drunk.

“What’s on your mind?”

But Widow laughed with surprising energy. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.”

“She does. And you do.”

Jaida shuffled over on the couch to wrap her arms around Widow, who leaned into Jaida’s side. Widow was much shorter than Jaida, and her chin just about reached Jaida’s shoulder.

“I miss her,” Widow breathed against her shoulder, slurring her words slightly. Jaida could feel Widow’s heart racing, and the heat of her body as the alcohol pulsed through her. Her lips were black, stained by the wine she’d drunk, her eyes bloodshot, pupils wide.

Jaida squeezed her a little harder, and that was when the spirit appeared.

Lank hair, skin ashen, most definitely not of this world. Her dead eyes rested on Widow, not on Jaida. Her arms were stiff, gruesome in their bloodied mess, and she stood in the corner as she always did, motionless.

Jaida, emboldened by her work that day, had a thought come to her out of nowhere.

“What was her name?” Jaida’s voice was breaking, and she half-expected Widow to run away immediately; trying to make Widow talk about anything personal was like trying to milk a wall. But Widow just shivered, the alcohol loosening her tongue and her mind.

“Tori. Victoria.”

Jaida swallowed as the figure in the corner took an uneasy step towards them. She forced herself to stay calm.

“How – how long had you been friends?”

“Oh God,” Widow shuddered again, “since … kindergarten. Yeah.”

“Were you in school together all – all your lives?”

“Yeah, all the same classes until – I left for college and she didn’t.”

Widow was shaking, but Jaida focused on the figure in the corner, now emerging, taking another step towards Widow, and another, seeming to glide towards them, becoming more and more real.

Stay calm. Widow needs this.

“When did you last see her?” Jaida asked.

Widow was shaking with grief. “July. When I went to KC and we went to that show. She –“ Widow stopped, the veneer of drunken blankness creeping over her eyes, but she blinked and carried on. “She had on this stupid shirt, this stupid pink shirt, and she wanted me to swap, but I didn’t, cause she – she’s like a size ten, and I’m a fourteen …”

Widow’s voice died as she started to sob into Jaida’s shoulder, the spirit close enough to touch. Now that she was so close, Jaida saw her grey face was lined with sadness; her hair was more dark brown than black; and her hollow eyes swam with tears.

She was reaching for them both, and Jaida’s fear was fading again, turning to empathy.

“… and she ripped the fucking shirt taking it off, if you can believe it, and I – I had this stupid idea to share the shirt I had with her, it was too big for me …” Widow wiped her eyes furiously. “So – we both put our heads in the head hole, and had one arm each, like we were fucking ten years old or something!”

The noise coming from Widow was still sobs, but now laughter mingled into it.

The woman behind them both reached a hand and rested it, ever so gently, on Jaida’s hands, clasped at Widow’s shoulder.

Jaida jolted in worry, but she just felt a spreading warmth through her body, like an open fire on a winter day, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She exhaled, unaware she had been holding her breath, and lifted a hand to the woman, but she moved her own hand to Widow’s arm, where it gently rested.

“I really didn’t want to think about her,” Widow whispered, her words still slightly slurred, “but it’s – it’s not so bad, talking about her. Remembering her. Actually, Jai, I think you’re the first person to ask me anything about her.”

“You just threw yourself into painting and shit, instead of thinking about her,” Jaida agreed.

“She was my best friend growing up,” Widow finally leaned away from Jaida, wiping her eyes again, “I got so many memories of her. She was amazing.”

“You got any pictures?”

“Sure, how long have you got?” Widow exclaimed, rubbing her eyes and grabbing her phone from the coffee table, flicking the screen open.

Jaida glanced up at the spectre, her face becoming more relaxed, the lines around her seeming to blur, as she faded into the air, disappearing from Jaida’s sight – Jaida knowing somehow that she was fading for good, her goal – to make Widow open up about her – accomplished.

Widow sniffed, tears falling onto the screen as she hurriedly wiped them off. “This was us at the show in July. In my big ass shirt.” She managed a laugh. “It was ruined the next day.”

The picture was Widow and the figure that Jaida had seen, this time in life, her head squashed by the shirt’s head hole next to Widow’s, the logo on the shirt stretched ridiculously across their chests. One of each of their arms was through the arm holes of the shirt.

Widow’s head was thrown to the side, her black curls dancing around her face, frozen in a laugh that Jaida could hear from just looking at the picture. Her friend – Tori – had a bottle of Corona in her hand and was kicking her leg on front of Widow, her face a picture of joy.

Jaida had never seen Widow so happy.

9.34PM

Jaida’s phone was ringing, a friend tone, but she looked down at Jackie’s number and groaned.

“Go away,” she hissed at the phone, as the tone faded.

Jackie: Jaida please pick up, please don’t ignore me

Jaida:What do you want

Jackie:It’s better if we speak, not message

Jaida rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to speak. Her two colleagues were both acting bizarrely and she just wanted a rest. She didn’t reply to Jackie’s message, and Jackie didn’t send her another.

Her phone buzzed again, thankfully not Jackie this time.

Dahlia: ok my mom is on shift tomorrow so I can come at like 3?? X

Jaida: I will let Brita know. Thanks Dahl you’re amazing xx

Dahlia: btw you never told me about Heidi and her date x

Jaida:I met her, she seems nice xx

Dahlia:oh good, Rock did the cards for the first time and I think she had one wrong x

She picked up her phone again and brought up Brita’s contact, with the selfie they had taken as their screenshot.

Jaida: Brit Brittany Bit

Brita: what’s up Jai x

Jaida: Dahlia is good for tomorrow at 3pm x

That was all that needed to be said. Brita was acting just as strangely as Jackie. With a start, Jaida’s eyes fell on her bag, and she realised that she had forgotten to pass Brita the book. Oh well, it could wait until tomorrow.

Her phone sounded again. Why was everyone trying to get in touch with her right now? Jaida expected it to be Brita again, but her stomach leapt to her throat when she saw the message.

Jan: hey gorg. I got Friday evening off shift. Can’t wait to see you at six! X

Jaida: Can’t wait either Jan. See you Friday xx

Jaida wrapped her braids for the night and got into bed, allowing her thoughts to turn to Jan, conjuring her image in her mind, adding in details here and there; her voice, her eyes, her lips …

#rpdr fanfiction #the goode case #juno #jaida essence hall #brita filter #jackie cox #crystal methyd #aiden zhane #widow von du #jan sport #lesbian au #detective au #supernatural au #diversity fic #s12 #black girl magic fic #tw suicide references #tw alcohol abuse #submission

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ohvalleyofplentyyy · 4 years

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Merlin’s Blood - Chapter 3

masterlist

ch.1 ch.2

Chapter 3: A Memory

Okay so I can either let the Bard drown and the Witcher die from water in his lungs… or save them.

Gross.

“Help! Oh please have mercy on me gods above! I’ll be good I promise, I’ll, I’ll pick up trash with I see it, I’ll pay for beer next time Geralt and I are at a pub! I’ll change my underwear daily—“

“Okay please stop I don’t need to know any more details about that!”

“AHH!”

Jaskier’s grip slipped as your voice surprised him but he clung onto the log for dear life again. He looked relieved to see you but then his face dropped. “Y/N you need to get out of here! I mean, putting me on the bank would be helpful but I don’t know when Geralt will wake up and… I don’t want him to do something he’ll regret.”

You moved your hand across the top of the water, dipping only your index and middle finger into the liquid. His shirt detached from whatever it was caught on and he started flowing downstream on the log. You then waved your arm and the current turned him to the bank. He climbed up onto the shore, panting from all the swimming.

“Alright,” you turned to leave but stopped and let out a big breath, “hold on, one more thing.”

You walked off the water and over to Geralt, Jaskier started crawling faster over, as if trying to block your path.

“Relax, I’m not going to kill him.”

Even though I should, but mom would never forgive me.

“Darling! What on Earth are you doing to the curtains?!” Your mother came rushing into the library, catching 9 year old you staring in terror and embarrassment at the satin curtains that were now on fire. “Mommy! I didn’t mean to! Rhean was teasing me about my lineage and I—“

Rhean was your older brother, well, adoptive older brother. His family and the kingdom he was from perished in a horrible war with the neighboring kingdom. The king was your father’s best friend and they had both made a vow that if something happened to the other, they would take in their children as their own.

You were only two when this happened and since you were the only child your parents ever had (i.e no boys) your father decided that it would be easier to just pass the throne to him.

Your mother had fought for you but in the end, to quote your dad, ‘it might be easier to just have a human rule a human kingdom instead of… whatever she is.’

Yeah, ouch.

Rhean, once he was old enough to understand that he would become king, made it his destiny to torture you with the fact that you had been passed up to rule and he was going to be in charge. You didn’t know why he punished you, maybe because of the fact that he had no family?

Honestly, it didn’t matter cause in the end, he died.

Your mother wrapped her arms around you and moved her right hand down in a straight line, ceasing the fire that raged in the room full of books. “It’s alright darling, look everything is back to normal.” You sniffled, “I’m not normal.”

She smiled sweetly at you but with a bit of sadness behind it. But you didn’t notice, you were 9 and the most important thing to you in that moment was what would happen to the now ruined curtains.

“It’s good to not be normal, being normal would be boring, you’d be like everyone else.” The queen picked you up and carried you up to your room, leaving a few maids to deal with the curtains.

Once in your room, your mother and you sat on the bed, looking out of the window watching the stars twinkle in the edge of evening. “Mommy, what’s Rhean always teasing me about? I’ve looked through almost all the books we have here but I can’t find any answers. What’s the matter with my lineage?” She took your hands in hers, “There’s nothing wrong with our bloodline, it’s just different from others and that makes them scared.”

You climbed farther up on the bed and wrapped your arms around your tiny kid legs, “How does Rhean know more about it than me?” “Your father thought that it would be better if the,” she swallowed, “future king knew about our… abilities.”

You scoffed, “He’s not the rightful heir, but he’s been chosen to precede father, how is that fair.”

She continued, “Y/N I need you to know that you are very powerful. Forget anything that Rhean says, just believe in yourself and be careful who you tell things to, the important things.”

She climbed up next to you snuggling down into the comforter. “The important things?” You questioned. “People can be cruel, you have a magic that some could only wish to imagine. Don’t tell anyone what you can do, unless you’re sure.”

“Okay Mommy.”

You moved both your hands each one starting from the top to the bottom, creating a circle. Then you moved both hands up, index fingers pointing at Geralt. Immediately he started coughing up water.

“Alright, since I just saved the man who wants to kill me, I’m going to leave and try to get a head start.” You turned to leave when the white-haired man rasped, “Wait.”

“Why should I?” You exclaimed, whipping around to see the two companions propped up against a tree. “Because I want to know if you know this name.” You crossed your arms, “Okay, shoot.”

“Nheanr.”

You searched your mind, eyebrows scrunched together.

Nheanr?

Doesn’t ring a bell. Hm.

“Nope, sorry. Can I go now?” The Witcher stood up on jelly legs, grumbling incoherent words to himself. Quickly, you moved into a defensive stance not knowing if he was tricking you or not. Moving your hands out to the water, you made an icicle form and come float at your side, pointed and ready to strike.

“I’ve decided not to kill you.”

You made a sarcastic grin at him, “Gee thanks, what a relief.” Jaskier now staggered up and walked between you. “Alright, so Geralt has said he means no harm, can you lower the ice dagger please?” You shot him a look, “You really think I’m going to believe him?”

The tall man leaned against the tree, “Why would someone be trying to kill you?” He said. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Hmm, I wonder why someone who wants to kill a person powerful enough to wipe out an entire order of mages and start a dictatorship over the entire continent.” The musician scrunched his face, “she’s got a point there.”

“Well whoever they are, they seem pretty determined to take your bloodline out.” You sighed, slightly lowering the icicle, causing Jaskier to let out a small breathe of relief.

“I just don’t know who has the records to know who’s a descendant and who isn’t, the books of my family tree were burned so long ago to keep us safe.” “Well, apparently some knowledge of your abilities didn’t go up in flames.”

You laughed and sunk into your left hip, dropping the hold on your dagger and propping your hand on your right hip. “You think?”

Time is of the essence, I need to go.

“I guess thanks for deciding to not kill me but I gotta go—“ “Wait!” Before you could teleport to anywhere but there, the bard shouted out. You looked at him, hand in position to leave, “What?” He shrugged his shoulders and walked over to Geralt, suspiciously mouthing something to him with his back turned you determined from the change in the Witcher’s face. He, with all his strength it looked like, wrapping an arm around the grumbling man and pulling him over to you.

“Why don’t we accompany you?”

You can never get things done simply can you Y/N?

You chuckled and started walking away, “Sorry boys I don’t feel like babysitting while on the run for my life.”

At your statement, the Witcher seemed to gain a bit of confidence and snapped back, “What do you mean babysit?” The two travel companions started following you into the forest, decidedly leaving the flooded river behind. You sighed and slowed your pace to walk between them.

“Didn’t I just save your life back there?” “Actually—“ “And didn’t I get your precious bard out of danger in that town— “Hey I was helping you—“ “Didn’t I have to take over the reins of, what’s his name, Roach?” At that statement, Geralt cackled surprisingly. “You never mentioned that Jaskier.” The musician now was a lovely shade of pink.

“Speaking of, where is your horse?” “Traded him for extra money I’ll get him later.” You raised an eyebrow at the odd statement but let it go, seeing as it wasn’t the strangest thing about this whole ordeal.

“Alright so where are we going, any plan?” Jaskier asked.

You bit the inside of your lip, debating if you could tell them your emergency idea you were thinking about the moment you watched that arrow embed itself in Branson. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Go on then, what’s the first step on this journey?”

“I’m going to find Merlin’s Tomb.”

masterlist

join my taglist! (it’s a google form)

tags: @ayamenimthiriel @peeyewpeeyew @emmalbg @holyhumorliteraturelight @crazzyter @romyr4 @emilyhuynhhh @HolyChic @katiejmac @amandayonah @romancebibilophilia @jessevans @petalduck @themoonsfate @clumsypinktiger @youtubequeens @homeybadger @juggy-buggy-betty-wetty @michaelfuckinglandgon @goatboats @beaglesaremajestic

crossed out tags didn’t work.

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt x reader #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier x reader #jaskier x reader #jaskier #the witcher geralt #merlin #the witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #plentyyywrites #oh valley of plenty

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bennyboyjones · 4 years

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THE GETAWAY (Ben Hardy FanFic) Prologue

A/N: Hi! So, here is the prologue to my Ben Hardy AU Fanfic! There are currently several chapters written, which you can find on Wattpad if you click on the link below, but I’ve decided to also upload it here as well. It might be a bit behind, but you’ll still get all the chaps eventually.

What it is: basically, a girl from a small town who is bored of her life decides to take a trip to Nice where she runs into ben, who is also running away from some shit and some romance ensues.

Word count: 1.6k

In this chapter: just some background to get us started. You probably don’t have to read this to understand what comes after, but it will help you understand the main character better.

WATTPAD LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ AHEAD

Here we go:

prologue

I brushed my thumb over the twenty year old bonds clutched between my fingers. My eyes swept over the bank tellers, my weight switching back and forth from my right to my left foot. These people were taking forever; I figured it would be slow since it was a Monday morning, but apparently this was when all of the housewives did their banking. I had been next in line for the past fifteen minutes and as time went on, my nerve was steadily draining out of me.

Last night, after a bottle of wine, I sat on the floor of my bedroom and reached under my bed for the manilla folder that held the contents of what I would consider the best six months of my life. The folder was worn, soft, had both coffee and wine stains, and looked way too aged for something that had only come into existence a year ago. I placed my glass next to me, on the equally stained gray carpet, and pulled out endless postcards, bookmarks, pamphlets, plane tickets, museum and park and exhibit passes, and polaroids. I sifted through them, running fingers over my best friends’ smiling faces, rereading postcards to my family I had already memorized, focusing on guides to museums in Copenhagen, Paris, and London as if studying them could magically teleport me back. Instead, I was stuck here, in Rye, a small town that I was so, so bored of.

I had lived here my entire life, and so had my parents. We went to the same elementary school and high school, we lived a thirty-second drive and a five minute walk from where my dad grew up. Everyone I had gone to school with had parents who graduated with or around the same time as mine. I felt so suffocated by sameness, by the ordinariness, and was terrified of repeating the pattern of monotony.

When it was time to go to college, I was sure I would end up in New York City—somewhere not too far, but far enough, different enough from everything I wanted to get away from. When I was in high school, I decided that I was made to live there. For nine months out of the year, I’m a New Yorker—but during the summer I’m always back in Rye because apparently it’s financially irresponsible to take out loans to dorm over the summer and I can’t afford an apartment on a waitress’s salary, nor do I have the time to take up a second job and go to school full time, so Rye it is.

I only ever missed New York seasonally, but I missed London all the time.

I missed living in London. I missed walking the three blocks from Queen Mary to the Co-Op to grab mushrooms, flapjacks, and a bottle of wine. I missed sitting on the Central Line at 11:30pm drunk, with Sarah and Annie on our way to our favorite club near Tottenham Court Road. I missed walking to Rinkoff’s hungover and grabbing a cronut. I missed Brick Lane on Sunday mornings. I missed a past life.

For the past year, I’ve been saving up to get it back. When I came home last June, I worked a waitressing job at a small restaurant on our main street, as many doubles as I could—six days a week—and I refused to spend a single dime of it. I worked part time the past two semesters and saved as much as I could, but metro cards were expensive and a girl needed to eat, and also have a social life, and instead of “throwing away” my left over aid money on spring break vacations like my friends did, I hoarded that $1,231 and pretended I wasn’t bothered by the Miami Beach pictures even though I knew I was missing out.

London was expensive, that much was clear; the only way I survived six months on $6,000 was because my financial aid paid for my housing and tuition, traveling around Europe while living in Europe is cheap, and my mom was sending me $100 a week for groceries because she was worried that all the jokes I made about not eating so I could afford to party (or financial drinking, as it’s been called) were serious (they were, and often the money that was supposed to be meant for groceries went to more fucking around—you only go abroad like that once in your entire life and I was so not going to waste it). And still, despite the weekly allowance from my mom, I still came home with $82 left in my bank account. Towards the end of the six months I was barely hanging on financially. Basically, what I’m saying is that I knew going back was going to cost me a lot of money, especially since I knew I wouldn’t have the same kind of help that I had the last time around.

So, I saved and refused to do the math to figure out how much I would need to go back to London for at least two weeks. Well, last night, I did the math—and, oh boy, I am not going back to London until I have at least a few thousand more dollars to my name. That crushing disappointment is what led me to that manilla folder.

The past few months, going back to Europe was all I could think about; I was graduating in December and this was my last summer to really do whatever I wanted before I had to be a real adult. Granted, I was planning on going straight into grad school, but the statement still stands.

I took another sip of the cheap-ass red I regretted buying before grabbing my photos from Nice. I slowly went through them, and my eyes misted at the landscapes, the crooked self portraits taken on both disposables and my barely functioning digital, the photos of food, and coffees perfectly placed next to pages of my open journal.

It was the one place that I had gone alone, in the middle of January, for only three days. It was a trip I took out of convenience (student visa issues) and I had only chosen Nice because it was both relatively cheap and small, but it ended up being my favorite place. The place I named first when people asked where I went, the place I talked about the most, and the place that meant the most to me.

I put the photos down and opened my laptop. I opened a tab for SkyScanner, one for AirBnb, and one for TripAdvisor and started doing the math.

Flight: $1,214 (round trip)

AirBnb: $2,056

Other Expenses: $3,000

Approx. Total: $6,270

I knew how much I had in my savings and knew I had bonds somewhere from my baptism or some other religious sacrament I was forced to endure that I could cash for some extra money. I had enough for three weeks, but didn’t have much of a financial cushion should I need it.

I downed what was left in my glass and booked my trip. I felt my hands shaking as I took them off my keyboard to rest them on my cheeks. My face was flush from both the wine and the excitement. I wiped my feet against the carpet, the nervous sweat on their bottoms making me uncomfortable. I was never one for impulsivity; I was a planner, a control freak, a perfectionist—a full blown virgo for fuck’s sake and the longer I sat there, staring at the confirmation page before me, the more nauseous I felt. I refused to let the regret set in, the doubt, and the fear. Instead, I stood up, hopped down the stairs with my empty glass in hand, and upon refilling, announced to my mom that in three weeks time, I would be on a plane to France.

Earlier this morning, she rifled through the safe in the back of her closet in search of the bonds. When I told her about what I had done, she didn’t have much of a reply—she simply raised her glass to me and muttered a soft, “Jesus Christ”. I knew she was slightly concerned, but also excited for me and I really couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. She was a supportive mom, always, no matter how questionable her children’s choices were (and mine and my brothers’ choices were always questionable).

Once she found them shoved into an envelope from the ‘90s, I got in the car with my younger brother and went to the bank.

“You need to chill out. You’re going to make everyone in there nervous if you go in there all shaky and sweaty. You’re making yourself look like a criminal,” Noah said as he put his crappy car in park.

“I’m just nervous. I know this is a stupid idea, isn’t it? I should just keep saving and go back in, like, another year when I really have the money, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes, “No. I think you need to do this now. It’s all you ever fucking talk about, and honestly, visiting you last year was the best thing I’ve ever done and it was the happiest I saw you. Just stop being a dumb bitch and go in there and get your money.”

Ignoring the “bitch” comment, I pushed the car door open with a loud creaking and clutched the bonds so tight they folded in my hands.

When it was finally (finally!) my turn to be helped, I stepped up and handed the bonds over, crumpled and slightly damp with sweat, “I’d like to cash these, please.”

#ben hardy #ben jones #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fic #ben hardy blurb #6 underground #four 6 underground #joe mazello imagine #gwilyn lee #borhap #borhap cast #borhap imagine #borhap fanfic #borhap fic #eastenders #ben jones blurb #ben jones fic

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saveonesouls · 4 years

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Chapter 5 of The Gods Aren’t Dead is out! Feel free to read it on AO3 and also I have posted it under the read more below! Feel free to like, reblog to share it around, and send messages and whatnot of what you think of the story so far and what you think might happen next :D

Charlotte was the first to appear near the scene in France, being able to successfully teleport near the scene and walk the rest of the way. She was fortunate that her abilities still worked just as good as they did before. In a way, it was like they never were gone, like they never were shut off.

Charlotte walked near it and passed some pedestrians, heading to the front to see the damage. Her blue eyes gazed at it all and she let out a breath. It was bad. A building lost, people being put in ambulances, people being covered by white sheets. She clenched her fist. She was angry, mad... livid. She wanted to find Gaia and give her a piece of her mind for messing with the mortals, for causing damage. She turned and walked away from the crowd, touching her phone screen and pressing a few numbers before it began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Sasha, it’s me.”

“What’d you find?”

Charlotte sighed as she stopped and looked over at the crowd and around at the damage. “It’s bad. She had to have done this. It looks like an earthquake than a landslide, though. Where the building is has fallen than look like a slide, though I can’t be sure. There’s too many people around for me to look.”

“We’ll have to check when it’s dead of night.” She heard Sasha sigh. “Meet me at Tyson’s place. He has it all set up and Bayley is there picking her weapon of choice.”

“I’ll be there soon. I’m going to check more of this place out. See if any of them are lurking or what other evidence I can find. Have you talked to Vince yet?”

“Other than this morning? Yes. I’m going to text him your updates now, but he’s... Well let’s just say that Florida is about to get a thunderstorm.” Charlotte sighed heavily as Sasha continued. “Mother will talk to him.”

“Mother wants nothing to do with him. You heard her last time. She told him she was going to chop his balls off because he keeps trying to sleep with other women.”

“Well, it’s dad and mom finally figured out to stop taking his shit like we’ve told her many times.” Sasha huffed. “What do you expect? I will get her to talk to him, but I know it’s no promises. Now, get to Tyson’s. I will talk to you then.”

“Alright.” Charlotte hung up and sighed as she looked back at the damage. It worried her how bad this was getting already. This was the very beginning of what was going to be a war on Earth and Charlotte knew it. Turning to walk, she took a few steps to make sure she was not in people’s view before she disappeared and reappeared by Tyson’s training facility for them. It was dressed up like a warehouse, but inside was a different ballgame. She walked inside and already could see a few people, Becky and Asuka to be more exact, sparring each other. It made her smile as she walked in. She even saw Bayley with Tyson looking at what seemed to be a bo staff of sorts, which had her curious to that choice. Though she knew Bayley had her reasons. Maybe not to slice through something or someone. Who knew, honestly besides Bayley.

“Charlotte.”

Charlotte turned and saw Becky walking over with Asuka. “Hey you two... I see everything is looking pretty great here.”

“Oh yeah. Tyson really pulled things together and got this place to tip top shape.” Asuka said softly with a grin on her face. “I have to go” She looked at Becky and patted her shoulder. “Great sparring today. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Neither have you, old friend.” Becky grinned as Asuka walked away and then she turned her attention to Charlotte. “What did you find at the sight?”

“You haven’t spoken to Sasha yet?” Becky shook her head and the two started to walk in the direction of Bayley. “It’s Gaia. She somehow managed to move the earth under the building and pulled part of it down and caused tons of damage.”

“People are dead I assume and injured?” Charlotte nodded and Becky sighed heavily. “So what is it that we do?”

“I do not know yet. Sasha has to talk to Vince about it to see what we should do because in all honesty we cannot go out and start using our abilities like we used to. The people only know us as myths, as stories.”

“And to show them that we are not would be a bad idea.” Becky sighed as they stopped right behind Bayley and she spoke to her. “So the staff, huh?”

Bayley turned to look at the two and she smiled a little as she twirled the staff a few times. “Yeah... Is it a bad choice?”

“Not at all.” Charlotte shook her head. “It can do decent damage like a sword or a bow. It won’t make any piercing damage, but you can break a few bones with that thing in all honesty.” She looked at Tyson who she gave a light smile to. “As usual you never disappoint with good work.”

“Thanks, Charlotte.” He said and he turned and grabbed what was Charlotte’s sword and handed it to her. “This is yours. I’ve upgraded it a bit to be stronger and not break so easily. I also have used a bit more gold and some blood red on the hilt of the sword.”

Charlotte grabbed it; her eyes widen at the sight of the artistry of her sword. She pulled it out of the sheath and everyone just watched her quietly. Charlotte was like a kid in a candy store with her sword as it had been years since she needed it, since she had to ever use it. It shined bright of the steel reflecting the light in the warehouse, the hilt being a mixture of blood red and black like Tyson spoke about the and gold... Charlotte loved it. She could never hate anything Tyson did when it came to his artistry of weapons. Though this, Charlotte teared up at the sight.

“Ptolema...” Charlotte whispered to the sword as she ran her finger lightly on the sharp edge of it. “I missed you so much... We have so much work to do, so much to catch up on.” Charlotte sheathed the sword before she wiped her eyes and looked at Tyson. “I thank you for bringing her back to me.”

“Of course, Charlotte.” Tyson smiled and held out her shield next and what seemed to be a spiked headband. “Your shield and this... Father stated that in modern times your helmet would be seen as too back in the day. So, I made you a spiked headband that is moreso like your crown. Your shield will have your helmet symbol to show who you are and what you represent of course, but this--”

“--Will fit me currently.” Tyson nodded and Charlotte didn’t hesitate to slip on the crown headband within her blonde locks. She stood there now with her shield in one hand, her sword in the other and she looked at the three before her, especially Bayley who seemed to have this bright smile on her face. “Why are you smiling?”

Bayley saw everyone look at her now and she smiled more. “Because you’re happy. I can see it.” She gave a little nod. “You’ve been waiting for a moment like this to be back to you, we all have. Though we’ve been forced back into this way, we all are back to ourselves in full force and it’s what we need.”

Charlotte grinned at the brunette and at Becky who nodded in agreement. Then they heard clicking of steps after a door was shut and she turned her head, seeing Sasha walking in. “Good timing.”

“Good timing indeed.” Sasha smiled at her blonde-haired sister and nodded. “You look good.” She looked at Tyson. “I assume you have my things as well?”

“Of course. Let me grab them out of the weapons closet.” He turned to go into the separate room.

Sasha looked at Becky and grinned. “Your sword fits you. Glad to have it back?”

“Of course.” Becky smiled happily. “I think we all are happy to have our weapons back and acquiring one” She briefly looked at Bayley. “Charlotte here had tears in her eyes.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” She said with a breath and looked at Sasha. “What did Vince say?”

Sasha sighed heavily. “He’s asking us to keep an eye out for other issues on the news. He doesn’t want us attacking yet but to prepare.”

“They’re just going to keep killing more people and recruiting the mortals for their cause.” Bayley said as she leaned on the table Tyson was near. “We can’t be holding back like this. Not when they think we aren’t here and they can take over the world as how they wanted it before Vince took over.”

“I’m aware, but that’s what Father said. We have to respect it for now.” Sasha shrugged before looking at Charlotte. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay...” Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows confusingly. “What is it?”

“If you did something like what Gaia did, what would you do next?”

“... You’re asking me because I am basically the chaotic one in this group, aren’t you?”

“That and because you are the more aggressive one than I and I would do something more strategic and not something... chaotic.”

“Well” Charlotte put her sword and shield down on the table and turned to Sasha, leaning against the table. “What would you do then?”

Sasha paused a moment, thinking and analyzing solutions in her head. “I would see if I could track one of us down and attack. Either that, or go to Greece and destroy one of the monuments.”

Charlotte nodded. “Either would be logical and smart. If they wanted to be chaotic to the point where they want to cause pain instantly? I would find out if the gods and goddess of our circle are alive, but get the less important ones.”

“Like me.”

They all looked at Bayley, her looked uncomfortable and worried.

“Well... Yes, but you and Becky are surrounded by me and Sasha so they wouldn’t dare try.”

“They don’t know that though.” Sasha said with a sigh. “Wouldn’t they want to try and start a war or something?”

“Why? There’s two already happening.” Charlotte said before Tyson walked out and held out Athena’s shield, sword, her own headband that was golden leaves and olives on it, and what seemed to be two pairs of armor. “I assume one is mine?”

“Yes. I almost forgot to give it to you.” Tyson said and handed it over. “I tailored it to fit your female frame by making it a little smaller. If it doesn’t fit, I will adjust it.”

“Thank you, Tyson.” Charlotte and Sasha said at the same time before Charlotte started to speak to Sasha. “We need to make sure to warn everyone about what’s to come and I mean everyone. We can’t be holding back any information because we are all in danger.”

That’s when Becky chimed in. “I’m meetin’ some of them at Hunter’s bar. I’ll let ‘em know what’s going on and make sure they stop by here to see Tyson about weaponry or whatever they may need.”

Bayley lowered her gaze as the three spoke and she looked at Tyson who merely grinned at her and she grinned back before she ehard her name. She looked over at blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked if you’re ready to head home.” Sasha said softly. “Bex has to go to work and Charlotte has a fight tonight so I thought we could ride together.”

“Oh! Sure!” Bayley smiled warmly. She then looked at Tyson. “Is there a way to... hide these things?”

“Oh of course. Just have to utter krymménos, hidden in Greek, as you hold it or looking at it and it while be invisible as if it wasn’t there. You also can do the same and tell it to appear somewhere else, like your home, and it will be there.” Tyson explained with a nod. “I had to work with Naomi on getting that done with all the weapons. Didn’t take long, but it was rough to speak with her about it.”

“Not surprised...” Charlotte said with a sigh. “Anyways, we should all go. Thank you again Tyson.” Tyson gave a brief bow of the head and the four went their ways: Charlotte went off to the house by teleportation, got in her car to head to her match, Becky got into her car that was at the place and headed off to work, and Sasha and Bayley drove home.

It was a mostly silent drive other than the music playing off Sasha’s phone, which happened to sound like and positive with some not having any vocals at all and still gave that power and uplifting feeling. To Bayley, Sasha weas the one that was most positive when it came to many things besides herself, and she loved that about the other more than anything. They bounced off the positivity when it was really needed.

Once they got home, they put their weaponry in a locker and Sasha put a lock on it and put in the passcode, which she told Bayley what it was and was going to tell the other two when they got home. She stated “it’s better to tell them in person so no one hacks into their phones and somehow gets it and takes the weapons. They’re basically artifacts to the modern world and we do not want anyone or anything taking them from us”.

Bayley let out a breath as she crashed onto the couch and put on the TV, instantly going to the news to see if anything new came up about the Titans causing trouble, but it was everything normal, nothing too out of the ordinary. She sighed heavily, wishing she could just go out there and actually do something about all this. The fact that she read so many comic books and learned about superheroes really got her into the idea that that’s who they really were going to end up being: The real-life superheroes to the modern world. They were the gods and goddesses that ran the world the best they could and they evolved into minds much greater and wiser and that meant they had to as well, which they did. Now, with everything going on and the Titans causing a hassle, it had to be time right? In Bayley’s mind, this was the perfect time. This was the best time to do that. No one knew exactly what to do other than to prepare and ready up, but Bayley wanted to do more. They needed to do more!

“You’re thinking too much.”

Bayley jumped as she snapped out of her thoughts and saw Sasha walking into the living room with a glass of water and sat on the couch next to her. “H--How do you know?”

“Your face. You looked super serious as the news was talking about the oldest dog in the world is the tallest dog in the world. I don’t think you’d look so serious over that and more “aww” and cry of how good of a puppy he is.”

Bayley rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Thinking about the Titans?” Bayley nodded. “We’ll get them. It may be a while, but we’ll get them.”

“But when? We should start acting now. Form a group and just... go after that, protect this world, our mortals.”

“Protect? You sound like you’ve been reading too many Spiderman comics again.”

“M--Maybe I have, but the comics have a point in our situation. We have these abilities no one else has because we are immortal Gods and can only die by each other’s hands. The Titans may find us and kill us and then what? They take over. We should be... I don’t know! Like the Avengers! It’s time to avenge and protect our planet.”

“Our planet is fighting against us, Bay. You know, Gaia and all.”

“She’s not our planet. She stopped being that the moment she decided to hurt it.” She saw Sasha smile and she knew she was right and made a good point. “It’s time, Sash. All that talk I’ve said for the past couple years, it’s time.”

Sasha sighed and looked away. “I’d have to talk to Vince, you know that. Everything we do, I have to go through him and--”

“Talk to Hunter or Roman.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow, her face scrunching in confusion. “What? Why our them?”

“Hunter and Roman know how to get through to Vince better than you, no offense.”

“None taken... You’re right, but he’ll want my opinion on it as well.”

“Then the three of you can talk about it.”

Sasha nodded, knowing Bayley made a valid point. The three of them really could get Vince to just sit down and chill. Though, at this rate the old man was not chilling any time soon. In reality, Vince never was one to chill, not even when he was sleeping around and causing terror back in the Ancient Greece days. It is what made her mother, Lacey, be her own version of a calm before the storm situation. Athena didn’t blame her mother in the least bit. Though sometimes the anger went to her and the others, but with the women Vince went around with, they got more of the pain and anger. Just that thought made her shake her head and she looked away from Bayley.

“So you know I’m right?”

“Yes.” Sasha sighed. “I will speak to them at another time. Right now, we’re all on edge on who did it in the first place and since no one is blaming Charlotte for it, the blame is shifting to who knows who else on the spectrum of us.”

“I still like my own theory better.”

Sasha looked at Bayley. “Which is...?”

“They got out themselves. Charlotte had a point, Vince forgets to do certain things and we’ve had to pick up after him a few times. Maybe he actually did forget to close the gate and this is the time that the moment he did, they took over.”

Sasha sighed and looked at the news for a while, seeing something about a fire and she just stared at it for a while, which got Bayley staring too.

“... You think they caused that?”

“I don’t know.” Sasha leaned forward to focus on it and she sighed. “It’s hard to tell because they could do anything. They haven’t been around this world so they view is a different. For all we know, they don’t know what’s going on and are ruining it because they think it is an illusion.”

“I think they’re doing it because they think this is our handiwork of making the world like this when we haven’t done anything. We let them do it and we work with them with minimal skills.” Bayley shrugged. “I’ll text Becky to see if she can find out about that fire since it’s in the city. Maybe something in the police report can give her an idea on if it is them or just an average fire caused by mortals.”

Weeks started to pass and it seemed that things were escalating and Sasha was the one to get all the questions, but then the end of the month came and that’s when the mortals found out about the Titans. They revealed themselves to easily that it was no joke.

Gaia, was there causing an earthquake after she and Cronus, had appeared in front of national television. The announced who they were and the whole press conference was cut short as they saw Hyperion appear. He used the light to set the room aflame and cut everything short. That’s when the four women looked at each other with shock on their faces.

“We are the Titans and we have returned to claim what is ours! We are your rulers! We are your dictators! You mortals stand no chance when your Gods are dead! Zeus, Hera, Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Ares, Hecate, Poseidon, Demeter, and Hades... They are gone and they have been for years and now? It is our time to rule.

“It is our time to take back what’s ours.”

#wwe #wwe fanfic #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #charlotte flair #bayley #becky lynch #sasha banks #greek gods au #greek mythology au #wrestling au fanfic #wrestling au fanfiction #Fic: The Gods Aren't Dead

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thelastspeecher · 4 years

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Superhero/villain AU - Redux

I can’t think of good titles for things.

Anyways, the book series that inspired my Superhero/villain AU actually had a new installment published recently. When I started reading the newest book, I remembered that the original way I envisioned my Superhero/villain AU lined a bit more with that book series, with Stan finding out he’s got kids after said children have been born. And I got inspired to write something for that original version. So here is...far too much of that. Enjoy.

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On the doorstep of a house he’d never been to before, Stan groaned loudly. He looked over at Ford.

“Why am I here, Sixer?”

“It’s Fiddleford’s birthday,” Ford replied, ringing the doorbell.

“Yeah, he’s your boyfriend. Not mine. Why did you drag me here and threaten to teleport me back if I tried to run?”

“His family wishes to meet you.”

“That’s not how it goes. You’re supposed to meet his family, he’s supposed to meet yours, and I don’t meet his until the wedding,” Stan said firmly.

“Yes, well, his family is rather unconventional,” Ford said. “They were very insistent upon meeting my twin brother. Particularly Fiddleford’s younger siblings. They’re twins themselves.”

“Ford-”

“You’ll get free food if you stay,” Ford said flatly. Stan crossed his arms.

“…Fine. I’ll stay. But only for the food.”

“That is the precise reason I mentioned it, Stanley.” Ford looked at him. “By the way, before we go inside-”

“If we go inside,” Stan grumbled. “Why are they taking so long to answer the door?”

“-I should warn you about Fiddleford’s younger sister,” Ford said, ignored his interruption. “She has two young daughters who, from what I understand, can be rather chaotic. I’ve told you everyone in the McGucket family has powers, correct?”

“Yeah,” Stan grunted.

“Her daughters are no exception, and they inherited elemental abilities, so their powers manifested early. Just…stay on your toes, okay? I’m sure it will be fine, but don’t be too startled by them.” Stan huffed. Ford sighed. “What?”

“There aren’t even any cute chicks to hit on here, are there?”

“Stanley.”

“I mean, you said Fiddledork’s younger sister has kids, so she’s married. Or at least dating someone.”

“No, she isn’t, actually. She’s a single mother,” Ford said. Stan nodded slowly.

“I can work with that.”

“Stanley, please don’t hit on my boyfriend’s family,” Ford hissed. The door opened, revealing Fiddleford. Fiddleford beamed.

“Howdy!” he chirped.

“Fiddleford, happy birthday!” Ford said cheerfully. Stan said nothing. Ford elbowed him roughly.

“Yeah, happy birthday, whatever,” Stan muttered. Fiddleford looked askance at Ford.

“He’s not pleased that I brought him with me.”

“Ah. Well, my folks are excited to meet you,” Fiddleford said to Stan. Stan grunted in response. “Come on in, we’ve got cake and-”

“Fidds, she’s makin’ a break fer it!” a voice shouted. Something short and dark-haired shot past Fiddleford and out the door. Instinctively, Stan grabbed whatever it was before it could escape. He stared down at the young girl, no older than four, whom he was holding by her shirt. She scowled at him and burst into flames. Ford jumped back, startled. Stan raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?” he asked. The girl’s scowl deepened.

“No, ‘m Daisy!” she said, stomping her foot.

“Nope. You’re a firecracker. You’re too little to be a full firework,” Stan retorted. The girl – Daisy – furrowed her brow, visibly confused.

“You’re not hurt,” she said quietly. Stan ignited his hair. He could hear Ford grumbling something, but didn’t care. Daisy was now staring up at him with rapt attention, her eyes wide. “Like me,” she whispered. Something in Stan crumbled. Giving in, he got down on his knees and grinned.

“Yep. I’m a pyro, too.” Still aflame, Daisy beamed. Someone cleared their throat. Stan looked over. Fiddleford still stood in the doorway, but now someone else was behind him. A short, young woman with a carefully guarded expression. Something about her hair, caramel-colored and cut to a short bob, seemed strangely familiar to Stan. For a moment, he attempted to remember where he might have met her.

Eh. Probably nothing. It’s just that she and Daisy look alike. She’s probably the kid’s mom. They had the same, large distinct nose. The same nose that Fiddleford had.

“Stanley, thank you fer grabbin’ my niece,” Fiddleford said. “She’s a bit speedy.”

“No problem. I don’t get to meet many other pyros,” Stan replied. Fiddleford frowned thoughtfully.

“Yes, it’s obvious now that yer a pyrokinetic. I didn’t know that.”

“Really?” Stan asked. Fiddleford shook his head.

“Honestly, I didn’t think ya had powers at all.”

“Rude,” Stan muttered. The woman standing behind Fiddleford pushed ahead of him and held out her hand for Stan to shake.

“Thank you fer catchin’ Daisy. I was dealin’ with her twin sister and she slipped away. The name’s Angie.”

“Stan,” Stan said, shaking the offered hand. “I’m Ford’s twin brother.” Angie knelt down and reached out her arms to pick Daisy up. “Uh, I wouldn’t do that. I’m immune to my fire and fire made by other pyros, but unless you’re a pyro too-”

“Ain’t no problem,” Angie said. A strong gust of wind blew past, putting out not only Daisy but also Stan’s hair. Angie picked Daisy up and set her on her hip. “I can put out fires pretty easily, ain’t that right, muffin?” Angie said playfully, poking Daisy’s nose. Daisy giggled. Angie looked at Fiddleford. “We should prob’ly let these guests of yours inside ‘fore any other children escape.” Stan and Ford followed the McGuckets inside.

“Are there other children here?” Ford asked.

“Nah, just Angie’s sweet lil babies,” Fiddleford replied. “I don’t think we’d be able to handle any children in addition to Danny ‘n Daisy.” He looked over at his niece. “Though mostly it’s Daisy who’s causin’ trouble.” Daisy covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Stan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He glanced at Ford, who had gone pale as well.

That kid’s not just a pyro, she’s a polydactyl. The hand covering Daisy’s mouth had six fingers instead of five. This family is fucking weird.

“You- um-” Ford stammered. Angie and Fiddleford stopped to look at him.

“Yes?” Fiddleford asked. Ford swallowed.

“You didn’t mention that your niece was a polydactyl.”

“Didn’t think it was relevant,” Fiddleford said with a shrug. Ford frowned at him. “What?”

“Fiddleford, you didn’t think I might be interested in that?” Ford hissed, holding up his hands. Daisy gaped.

“Twelve!” she shouted eagerly. Daisy held her own hands up. “Eleven!” Ford smiled weakly at her.

“That’s correct. I have twelve fingers and you have eleven,” he said softly. One of Daisy’s hands had five fingers, while the other had six. Daisy grinned. Fiddleford was now frowning thoughtfully. Stan could practically hear the gears turning in his head. He looked at Angie, who quickly glanced away from him.

“Well, at least you know now,” Fiddleford said after a moment. “C’mon, we still haven’t reached the living room!” Fiddleford set off, Angie, Stan, and Ford close behind.

When they arrived in the living room, Stan was immediately met with a blast of cold air to his left side. He turned in that direction. An older couple was trying to calm down a girl that seemed to be Daisy’s age. The girl was sobbing uncontrollably, her hands covering her face. Ice spread from where she was sitting.

What the fuck is happening?

“Oh, dear,” Angie said under her breath. She handed Daisy to Stan and quickly strode over to the other girl. “Danny, sweetie, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“Mama!” the girl – Danny – wailed, wrapping her arms around Angie’s torso. Stan looked down at Daisy in his arms. She grinned at him. Stan looked at Fiddleford.

“Uh, why did your sister give me her kid?” Stan asked dumbly.

“Most likely because you were the closest,” Ford said, answering for Fiddleford. “I doubt you need to keep holding her. You can probably set her down.” He looked at Fiddleford as well. “Right?” Fiddleford, who once again had a studious expression, startled.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“Your sister gave her daughter to Stanley to hold. He can set her down, right?”

“Sure, sure,” Fiddleford said. Relieved, Stan set Daisy on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout all this chaos. I knew it would be a bit of a mess if I invited Angie’s daughters to come, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with ‘em.”

“It’s fine,” Ford said. “It’s your party, after all.” He held out the present that Stan had wrapped before they left. “Here’s your gift, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you!” Fiddleford said, taking the box. “And it’s wrapped so nicely!”

“That’s all me,” Stan said. “Ford couldn’t wrap to save his life.”

“Well, thank you both, then,” Fiddleford said, beaming. He seemed to have abandoned whatever he’d been thinking about so intently before. “Stanley, I should introduce you to the rest of my fam’ly-” Stan felt something tug on his pants.

“Mister?” a small voice said. Stan looked down. It was the girl that had been crying earlier, Danny. She stared up at him. Something uncomfortable began to uncurl in Stan’s gut. “You can fire?”

“Uh…” Stan could only stare numbly at Danny as he picked up on facial features he recognized intimately. A large, ruddy nose. Chubby, rosy cheeks. Wide, familiar brown eyes. Danny blinked at him.

“Daisy says you fire,” Danny said firmly.

“Um, yeah, I- I fire,” Stan finally said. Danny’s eyes sparkled.

“Show?” she asked timidly. Daisy promptly appeared by Stan’s side so quickly that it almost seemed like Ford had teleported her.

“Yeah, I can- I can show you,” Stan said. He looked more closely at Daisy now, remembering that Angie had mentioned they were twins. Daisy looked very similar to Angie, but with thick, rambunctious dark curls. Curls that Stan could distinctly remember his mom struggling with and swearing over any time they had to dress up nice.

“Show,” Daisy prompted. Stan realized he hadn’t done anything other than stare at her, despite promising to show off his abilities.

“Um. Yeah. Yeah.” Stan knelt to the girls’ eye-height and held out his hands facing up. Flames manifested above his open palms. “You- you girls have a favorite color?” Stan asked weakly, still reeling but trying not to let it show.

“White,” Daisy said.

“Red,” Danny said, more quietly than her twin.

“White and red coming right up.” The flames formed into two spheres, one per hand, floating about an inch or so above Stan’s skin. The sphere closest to Daisy paled until it was as white as the ice Danny had produced earlier, while the sphere by Danny darkened to a ruby red. Danny and Daisy clapped their hands. Stan grinned at their sweet enthusiasm.

“Mama, can I do that?” Daisy asked, looking over at Angie. Stan decided not to look at her, still struggling with the implications of his observations.

“Maybe someday, sweetie,” Angie said softly.

“Can do something else?” Danny asked Stan.

“Uh, whattaya wanna see?” Stan asked her. Danny frowned thoughtfully.

“No, let’s- let’s leave Stanley alone,” Fiddleford interrupted. “He’s not here to entertain you two, he’s here as a guest.” Stan extinguished his flames and stood to his full height, still avoiding eye contact with Angie.

“That’s a very good point,” piped up a man standing nearby. He looked like Fiddleford, but shorter and with dark hair. “I’m here to entertain you two.”

“Lute…” Fiddleford sighed. Lute just grinned at Fiddleford, then gestured for Danny and Daisy to follow him.

“C’mon, kidlets, let’s find us somethin’ to do,” Lute said breezily. He walked out of the room, Danny and Daisy scampering after him.

I need a few minutes to myself, this is getting disturbing.

“Where’s the john?” Stan asked.

“Oh, it’s-” Fiddleford started.

“Please, Fiddleford, let me,” Ford interrupted. “It’s your birthday. I can show Stanley where the bathroom is.”

“O-okay,” Fiddleford said. Ford set off. Stan quickly followed him. Once they were far enough from the living room that they wouldn’t be easily heard, Ford came to a stop. He spun around to glare at Stan.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed at Stan. Stan held up his hands.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t come here to distract two ankle-biters!”

“No, not-” Ford closed his eyes. “I saw how you were looking at them. You see it, too.”

“…See what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Stanley. They don’t just look like Angie. They look like you.”

“Who?”

“I’m not joking,” Ford said, his voice almost a growl. “Danny and Daisy. Angie’s daughters. Daisy clearly inherited your abilities, while Danny- no one outside of our family has that nose.”

“Maybe they’re Shermie’s, or yours.”

“Shermie’s been married for five years, they’re clearly younger than five.” Stan opened his mouth. “Don’t you dare suggest Shermie would cheat, you know he’s not the type.”

“They could be yours,” Stan repeated. Ford glared at him. “Right. You’re gay.” Stan leaned against the wall and put his face in his hands. “Fine, fine. They’re- they’re obviously mine. But I don’t know how!”

“I know we never got proper sex ed, but-”

“No, not- I know where babies come from, Stanford, I’m not an idiot,” Stan snapped. “I just- I don’t remember having sex with Fiddleford’s sister.”

“You have a lot of one-night-stands.”

“Yeah, but I remember all of ‘em. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to avoid them at the grocery store. And I don’t remember Angie.” There was a pause.

“I don’t have any answers for you, Stanley.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Stan let his hands fall from his face. “I don’t wanna go back in that room.”

“I don’t want you in there, either,” Ford said firmly. Stan frowned at him. “Today’s Fiddleford’s birthday. I haven’t been able to spend much quality time with him lately, so I want this to go well. It won’t go well if his family connects the same dots we have.”

“Yeah, I think it’s too late for that. Fiddlesticks was obviously thinking pretty hard.”

“Yes, but his family members wouldn’t have gotten a good look at you yet.”

“So, what, you want me to leave?” Stan asked. Ford nodded. Stan scoffed. “Really. You said you would teleport me back if I tried to leave.”

“That was before I knew you had a one-night-stand with Fiddleford’s younger sister and sired two children. It would be for the best if you went back to our place.”

“Fine. What are you gonna tell his family?”

“I don’t know.” Ford frowned thoughtfully. “You just asked to go to the bathroom…I could say you developed horrible diarrhea and had to go home.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Stan hissed. “Don’t say that!”

“Why not? It makes sense.”

“No it- I don’t want anyone to know I’ve got the shits.”

“But you don’t,” Ford said slowly.

“I-” Stan shook his head. “I’m not gonna have this argument again. Look, just say that something came up and I had to go home.”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, maybe I had to go into work or run an errand I forgot about. Just say anything that doesn’t have to do with me getting sick, okay?”

“All right, but the lie will fall apart the second someone asks for more information.”

“If Fiddlesticks’ family is anything like him, they won’t question it. Just- go. I’ll see you back home.” Ford nodded and went back to the living room. As quietly as he could, Stan made a break for the front door. His hand was on the knob when he heard a noise. He turned around. It was Lute, holding the hands of Danny and Daisy. Lute looked at him.

“Why the sudden exit?” Lute asked.

“Something- something came up, I gotta go,” Stan fibbed. Lute searched Stan’s face. His eyes widened with realization. “Uh, see ya.” Stan tore the door open and ran out of the house.

“Hey!” Lute shouted after him. At the end of the driveway, Stan burst into flames and took off. As he flew over the house, he could see Lute in the front yard, looking up at him.

The further away he flew, the more his heartrate slowed. The fifteen-minute drive was only about three minutes flying. Stan quickly landed in the backyard of the house he and Ford were renting, then shut off his flames. He collapsed onto the ground, his mind racing.

Well, that wasn’t the worst way I’ve ever exited a party.

-----

Stan looked at the text conversation again, to make sure he was in the right place.

“Stanford gave me your number. This is Fiddleford’s younger sister Angie. From the party yesterday?”

“Yeah. I remember you.”

“Meet me at Café à la Mode at noon.”

“OK. See you then.” Café à la Mode was off the beaten path, so it wasn’t very busy. However, it had the general aesthetic of the trendy cafés Stan hated just walking by.

But when the chick who might be your baby momma asks you to meet her, you meet her. Stan swallowed. Even if you still don’t remember actually having sex with her. In an attempt to avoid as much of the hipster material as he could, Stan had bought a small black coffee and chose a table outside, away from the indie music playing inside.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice said. Stan looked up from his cellphone. Angie took a seat across from him. “Danny’s goin’ through a clingy phase right now. It was difficult to get away from her.”

“No problem,” Stan mumbled. He cleared his throat. “What- what’s Danny short for?”

“Danica,” Angie replied.

“Good,” Stan said. Angie frowned. “I mean- I thought it was short for Danielle, which I don’t like as much as Danica.”

“Ah. Well. I liked the sound of it.” Angie took a breath. “Speakin’ of the girls…”

“Are they mine?” Stan blurted out. Angie closed her eyes. “I’m not a genius like my brother, but I’m not an idiot, either. They’re mine, right? Daisy’s a pyro. I asked Ford. He said that pyrokinesis doesn’t run in your family. And Danny’s-”

“Stanley.”

“Call me Stan.”

“…Okay. Stan.” Angie opened her eyes. “Yes. They are yours.” Stan’s heart plummeted to his feet.

“I have two kids?” he whispered. Angie nodded. “I-” Stan swallowed. “Good,” he repeated. Angie managed a small smile. “Look. I’m not trying to insult you – it wouldn’t be smart to insult the lady who had my kids. But I told Ford this and he can’t keep a secret, so it’ll come out at some point, so…” Stan took a breath. “I don’t remember sleeping with you.” He winced, ready for the tongue lashing he was about to receive.

“I figured,” Angie said. Stan stared at her.

“Wait, what?”

“I figured you didn’t remember sleepin’ with me…” Angie met Stan’s eyes determinedly. “Flamethrower.” Stan’s heart skyrocketed back to his throat. He took a sip of his coffee to soothe his nerves.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said calmly.

“C’mon, Stan,” Angie said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t you recognize me?” Her southern accent was gone. She twirled one thin, elegant finger. A breeze ruffled Stan’s hair. “I know you saw me put out Daisy yesterday. Don’t you remember all the times I did the same thing to you?” The sip of coffee was threatening to come back up.

“Sirocco,” Stan choked out. Angie nodded.

“You don’t remember knockin’ boots with Angie McGucket, ‘cause ya didn’t.” Her southern accent had returned. “You did it with Sirocco.”

“You’re- you-” Stan stammered. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Angie folded her hands in her lap, waiting patiently. “How’d you figure out I was Flamethrower, though?”

“When I met Stanford, I caught on pretty quickly that somethin’ was fishy. Not only is Daisy a polydactyl like him, but he and Danny look awful similar. Of course, I knew that Stanford wasn’t Flamethrower. He wasn’t a pyro. Not to mention, he’s gay.”

“Yeah. He can’t even pretend to like women. Not well, at least. It always comes out forced.”

“Some people are better actors than others,” Angie said mildly. She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “But I asked Fidds ‘bout Stanford’s fam’ly, and he said he had two brothers what didn’t have powers.”

“Why did he think that?” Stan asked. “I don’t show off my powers to every Tom, Dick, and Harry, but I don’t exactly keep it a secret, either.” Angie shrugged.

“Honestly, I wonder if Stanford told him that, to try to keep anyone from realizin’ you were Flamethrower.”

“It clearly didn’t work,” Stan grumbled.

“No, it did. When Fidds told me that, I figured that the similarities between the girls and Stanford were just coincidences. Mighty strange ones, but coincidences nonetheless. Their father was Flamethrower, a pyrokinetic. Not a normie.”

“But you figured it out,” Stan prompted. Angie nodded.

“Yes. Yesterday. Daisy got away from me and I went runnin’ after her, and before I got to the door, I heard someone say they were a pyro, too. Someone whose voice I recognized. Before you even looked up, I knew who you were.”

“Damn, I need to up my secret identity game,” Stan mumbled. “I didn’t realize you were Sirocco until you told me.”

“I had a leg up. Like I said, I’ve been suspicious of Stanford since I met him. I was prepared to recognize his brother, even if I had been told he was powerless.” Angie grinned crookedly at Stan. “You had no reason to suspect yer brother’s boyfriend’s sister would be a supervillain.” Stan leaned forward.

“Now that you’ve brought him up... Does Ford know? About you being Sirocco?”

“No. He’s completely out of the loop as to what my fam’ly does.”

“Your family?” Stan asked, aghast. Angie winced. “You didn’t mean to let that slip.”

“No. No, I didn’t.” Angie swallowed. “But ya might as well know. Yer daughters are McGuckets, and the McGuckets are well-known in the…law-avoidant community.” She frowned at Stan. “Don’t tell Stanford. Fidds will tell him when he thinks he’s ready.”

“No problem. Ford can’t keep a secret, but I’m pretty good at it,” Stan said with a shrug. “I’m not thrilled about the idea of my kids being raised as villains, but I guess that’s something we can work out later.”

“Oh? I would have expected that you would want to take care of that right away.”

“Yeah, but, first…” Stan chewed on the inside of his cheek. He met Angie’s eyes just as she had met his moments ago. “Why now?”

“Pardon?”

“Why are you telling me all this now?” Stan demanded. Angie leaned back slightly, evidently startled by his fervent tone. “How old are Danny and Daisy?”

“Three,” Angie replied quietly.

I missed out on three years of their lives. Stan fought back the tears that were beginning to well up.

“So for basically four years, you knew I was a dad, and you never told me.” Stan took a shuddering breath. “Why are you telling me now? And don’t try to say you didn’t know who I really was before. You coulda told me any of the times we saw each other while we were in masks.”

“Well, Fidds and Lute saw you at the party, figured it out, and won’t stop harassin’ me,” Angie said, attempting a smile. At Stan’s stony expression, however, the weak grin was wiped away. “Okay, no jokes.” Angie looked down at the table and brushed imaginary dust off it. “…You were so sweet with ‘em yesterday,” she said softly. “Daisy especially. She actually cried when you left. At least there’s a cryokinetic in my fam’ly that Danny can spend time with. Daisy’s never met another pyro before.” Stan thought back to Daisy’s rapturous expression when she realized he was pyrokinetic as well. He smiled faintly.

Those big blue eyes, sparkling like I just told her I was Superman.

“You didn’t know they were related to you, you hadn’t even met ‘em before. But right away, you were makin’ ‘em laugh and smile.” Angie leaned back and looked up at the sky. Stan was surprised to see the corners of her eyes glistening. “Even villains can feel guilt. And it’s pretty damn difficult not to feel guilt over all this. For the past four years, I’ve been tellin’ myself all sorts of things. You wouldn’t want kids. You wouldn’t like kids. You act tough and crass and brash because that’s who ya are all the way through. You don’t have a lick of the softness or kindness that would be necessary to raise children.” Angie looked at Stan, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I knew all of those things were lies. I’ve gotten to know ya pretty well over the years we’ve been fightin’. But I could keep lyin’ to myself and keep that guilt away. Until I saw, firsthand, how monstrously false those lies were.” A single tear broke free and traced its way down Angie’s cheek. “I can’t keep ‘em away from ya no more. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Since when does a villain care about what’s right?” Stan asked. Angie cocked her head and managed a watery smile.

“Always, Stanley. I always care about what’s right. It’s just that what I consider right don’t always line up with what, say, the government considers right.” She quickly rubbed her eyes. “Now, we’ve got some things to figure out, but I reckon if yer able and willin’ to try to co-parent, I can do that with ya.”

“Uh, yeah. Obviously,” Stan scoffed. Angie’s smile widened.

“There’s that bluster I know so well.” She cleared her throat. “Would- would ya like to head to my place? Maybe- maybe have a proper introduction to the girls?” Stan beamed.

“Hell. Yes.”

“Excellent.” Angie got up from her chair. “Oh, but one thing.”

“What?” Stan asked. He downed the rest of his coffee, which had gone cold, and stood.

“I don’t plan on tellin’ my fam’ly that yer a hero. Not yet, at least. You fine with that?”

“As long as you don’t tell my folks that you’re a villain.” Stan held out his hand. “Shake on it?” Angie shook the offered hand.

“But of course.” She turned around. “C’mon. I live nearby.” Stan quickly caught up to her.

“So, uh, your whole family is made of villains?” Stan asked. Angie nodded. “Even Fiddleford?”

“Especially Fiddleford.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. Let me tell ya ‘bout all the fancy colleges he got expelled from…”

#I spent a good chunk of yesterday and this morning working on this #I just. I couldn't really. stop writing.#but I think it turned out pretty good. if loooooong #Superhero/villain AU #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Angie McGucket #Daisy McGucket #Danica Pines #Stangie Family #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

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