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onyourowndaisymae · 9 months

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an unexpected guest

was talking with a friend about how stressful the early days of living in the hol would be and then i talked about stealing solomon's bed from him and this fic sprung forth from those shenanigans. i just have so much love for the purgatory hall cast

content + warnings: fluff, solomon & reader very early into the exchange program, og timeline, just musing about purgatory hall being a safe space amidst the chaos of the devildom

solomon's tired. truthfully, there's not often he's not tired-- he's just learned to disregard his body's needs when they inconvenience him, only circling back to address they when he has the time or energy. tonight was one of those blessed nights. he'd finished up a new spell after several grueling hours of trial and error. his ancient human joints were creaking like an old house, all weathered and worn from years of neglect.

he crept quietly up the stairs of purgatory hall, drifting through the dorm with light footsteps. everything looked different in the dark. the hardwood floors where warm beams of candlelight illuminated each panel were now bathed in the delicate glow of moonlight. his relationship with the concept of "home" had always been shaky, but this was not. purgatory hall is solid. it is home. the floorboards and the walls are real, tangible, swirling together with pleasant memories of friendships and laughter like colors on an oil spill. this is the best place he's ever been lucky enough to call his own.

the door to his bedroom creaks a little as he opens it, and the lights flicker on with the flip of the switch. the golden tassels on his cloak clink together pleasantly as he strips it off. solomon tosses the garment on a nearby chair when he hears breathing. he tenses. his eyes dart around the room cautiously before he spots the intruder: there's an unidentified lump under his blankets. he steps closer and peers at their face. then he laughs.

it's you. you, the other human exchange student, fast asleep in his bed. you look completely worn-- solomon remembers you had come to purgatory hall per luke's request earlier today. maybe he... yeah, he was right. he finally takes a moment to check his d.d.d. and spots a text from simeon explaining the situation. nighttime fell quicker than anyone expected, and the two angels in the house didn't feel quite comfortable sending you home at such a dangerous hour. since solomon was usually locked in his workroom until dawn, the angel explained that he loaned out his room-- with an apology for imposing, of course. solomon chuckled a little to himself, taking the quiet moment to observe you while you're blissfully unaware.

you got the short end of the stick with the exchange program. that, he knows. the house of lamentation is full of six rowdy demons that all currently look at you like prey, with varying feelings of disinterest to scorn. solomon himself has centuries of experience with the devilish beings, but you're new to all this, aren't you? angels are much less intimidating to a newcomer like you. luke's nothing more than a young angel barking at the heels of his superiors-- said affectionately, of course. and simeon is one of the kinder angels to ever walk any of the three realms, greeting others with the true grace of a divine creature. of course he'd let you stay the night to ensure you don't get gobbled up on the street.

something about that makes him feel... strange. in a good way. to think that you're capable of falling asleep in a stranger's bed so easily, that you're willingly seeking more time at purgatory hall... he'll have to think on what these feelings are.

he fixes the blanket around you and stares for a moment longer. you look comfortable. what a thing to be so at peace in such a hellish place.

purgatory hall can be safe for you. it can be the place where you go when you need a somewhere to land. something about the image of you fleeing the house of lamentation for greener pastures makes him smile-- in a smug, not-so-kind sort of way. serves them right for shoving you, poor defenseless you, into their home with no regard for your wellbeing.

maybe solomon can be a safe haven for you, too. after all, you both are humans-- and humans have to stick together, right?

with the flick of his wrist, all of the lights in the room sudden turn off save for one special candle on his desk. the flame is almost identical to the ones found in the human word, with its mostly even pillar and its warm orange flame. but magic oozes from its melted wax. it's a flame that never spreads, leaving you to enjoy the comforts of solomon's room without worrying. just a little sign that even when he's not there, a certain sorcerer is always looking out for you. he closes the door with a gentle click and heads to spend the rest of the night somewhere else.

#i can't be normal about him #i have so many thoughts in my brain #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me solomon #otome

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xuxishortcake · 3 years

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ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ

John Mayer - Your body is a wonderland

¹:⁰³ ──♡──────³:³⁰

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your boyfriend, Taeyong has been worn out due to working hard on his latest comeback & you just wanna appreciate him & tell him how much you love him <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : sub!idol Dom!reader smut , angst ? some pretty cute fluff : 3, cursing , cream pie, cunninilingus, handjob , blowjob , praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.7k

hey everyone! this is my first official ff, so pardon me if there's Grammer errors, spelling mistakes, etc. I got inspired to write this while listening to "your body is a wonderland." I just love the soft, morning sex feel of the song & wanted to turn it into a ff. I'm not sure if I'll be an active poster , but I did have fun while writing this & making up stories is a hobby of mine so we'll see. feedback is very appreciated, & enjoy!! :3

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

it was a pleasant Sunday morning & you woke up a little earlier than usual to the sound of birds chirping. You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the light streaming through the semi transparent curtains. next to you, lay your peacefully asleep boyfriend, Taeyong. {damn,} you thought, {even while sleeping he's just breathtaking to look at. God really does have favorites huh.} it made you smile to see him look so tranquil.

the night before, he came in the apartment quite fatigued since he had been out all day, practicing for his group's newest comeback.

"hey bubu," you said as you stood up from the couch you were sat at. you walked over & you hugged him. "how was everything today? any new progress?"

"mmm, everything's going along well, just a little tired because the recording session was a bit hard. I'm just glad to be back home & hugging you." he said while putting his head in the crook of your neck.

"you seem tired, baby." you reply, moving your fingers through his hair "want me to make you some tea maybe?"

"yeah, that'd be great. I'm just gonna go lay down on the bed for a bit. " he smiled tiredly, putting his backpack & shoes next to the door.

you went into the kitchen to get a kettle onto the stove. once it started boiling, you poured it into two small mugs for the both of you, added the tea bags & stirred in some honey. you left for the bedroom & came in to see Tae curled up, fast asleep on the bed. you sighed, a bit sad & put down the cups onto the night stand next to the bed & sat down besides him. you glanced at the clock on top of the night stand, 9:55 PM. makes sense he was tired, he left pretty early in the morning. however, you wanted to talk to him at least for a little bit more since it felt like the two of you hadn't had a conversation or even really cuddled in so long for his job was keeping him very occupied. sure you both texted back & forth while you could, but it just didn't feel the same as actually being there together. it wasn't too long before his comeback would be present, but then again, he'd be busy with promotions. a bit crestfallen, you slipped out of your clothes, went to get washed & had gotten into bed.

back to the present, you were thinking of how nice it was just to be close to him & know you could finally have a day where you could both just enjoy each other's company. you knew you wanted to do some extra special caring for him. knowing how he's been so hard at work was a sign he's in need of some extra special lovin'. you felt like you hadn't been able to tell him how much you loved & appreciated him, & now, you felt like you could finally do it. you snuggled up closer to him, gently put your hand onto his face & started caressing him. Taeyong 's nose scrunched & his eyes fluttered open.

"good morning bubu. " you said, continually stroking his cheek with the tips of your fingers. "sleep well?"

taeyong smiled & stretched a bit. "yeah, I feel well rested. how about you?"

"same same. I'm just glad you don't have to go anywhere today. I've missed being able to be with you. "

"I'm sorry I fell asleep so quickly last night y/n. I just wanted to lie down since I felt so drowsy but I dozed off like an idiot & didn't get to talk to you while I had the chance. I feel so bad since I feel I've been terrible at spending time with you & actually being a boyfriend. " he looked down glumly.

"no, baby, it's fine. it's understandable since you've been going pretty hard lately, & we have all day today so : )" you assured him pressing a small kiss on his forehead.

you smiled & held his cheeks between your hands & kissed his lips ever so gently. he kissed back, & you started to kiss back a little bit harder. before you knew it, things were starting to get really heated. you had slid your tongue over his lips as an ask to come in, & he happily let you in. that cute little bubblegum tongue of his sure knew how to get you riled up, cause damn, was he a good kisser. tongues playing harmoniously while softly panting. you broke out of the deep kissing to kiss his cheek & then started to leave kisses all along his sharp jawline. you climbed on top of him & worked your way down his neck, leaving a plush trail of kisses with him sighing softly. your hands trailed down his stomach & onto his forming hard on. starting to slowly stroke his covered bulge, you now moved your lips to his nipple, giving a few light licks, giving you great joy to hear the sweet little whimpers that were coming out of his mouth. you started to work faster with your tongue & hand. you lightly dragged your tongue down his abdomen & hooked your fingers around the waistband of his boxers & pulled them off. his cock sprung up & slapped against his stomach. the tip was sore & red, glistening with precum, which made you lick your lips in anticipation. slowly, you started to stroke it,from the base & squeezing a bit once you came to the top. you began to pick up the pace, taking in your boyfriend's pretty flushed face, begging you to touch him more.

"fuck tae, your body is like a wonderland. you're so beautiful. "

he started blushing at the compliments, hand slightly against his mouth , & that just made you want to do more. you stopped stroking his length & he whined at the lack of friction, trying to buck his hips in the air. however, you had a firm grip on his left thigh & wouldn't let him. you moved further down his body, until your head was in between his thighs. you started leaving kisses & bites all along his inner thighs. reaching to his dick, you placed a quick kiss on the tip & started giving a few kitten licks.

"fuck y/n,you're such a tease. " taeyong panted out.

"I'm just trying to savor every moment of this baby ♡" you said smirking since you knew what you were doing to him.

finally, you took him whole & he groaned out loud. bobbing your head up & down, his tip sometimes reaching the back of your throat, making you moan & send out vibrations, which made him moan right back . chest heaving & eliciting pretty moans , his back was slightly arched & his hips were pushed up a bit, but you made sure he was held put. he practically melted by your hands, & it was amazing to feel you had this much power over him. you could tell he was reaching his limit, & you got off of him with a *pop*. you were about to position himself into your entrance when he grabbed your wrist.

"no....not yet. I want you to feel good too. please, sit on my face. "

"ok, I'll let you since you've been a pretty good boy." you say as you crawl up onto him. you lower yourself slowly above his face & he holds your thighs in place. he takes one long lick across your slit, savoring it as if it tastes like candy & starts eating you out like he'll never be able to do it again.

"you're so pretty, y/n" he says against you, nose deep into you.

"ah fuck, & you're so good at this tae." you say tugging onto his hair, trying tohold back moans.

the way he eats you out is unbearably good. his tongue, gliding along your vulva , up & down & making circle motions on your clit gets you feeling so high. you felt yourself coming to a reach, & taeyong could see it & started to go even faster. your thighs started to shake in the euphoric feeling & you held his hair as he continued lapping up your juices until you told him to stop. finally, you got down off of his face & positioned yourself. you lowered yourself down onto his firm cock. "ohhh" taeyong let out a deep groan, relieved he was finally getting attention on him again. you stretched your torso across to pin his hands above his head & slowly started to move, your hips going perpendicular. moving your head towards him, you went back in for more kissing. tongues entangling & beads of sweat falling down in between your foreheads. having a tight grip on both his hands, you started going at a quicker pace, drawing out more moans from tae.

"oh my god. I'm close, y/n." taeyong moaned out against your lips with his hands starting to tremble.

"ok baby. you can cum." you replied, increasing the movements of your hips & pushing your lips into a deeper kiss with his. you felt his thighs starting to quiver & his hips bucked up deeper into yours, warm cum spilling out from inside you. you both rode it out together until you started to pant. not moving anymore,you were still on him with a bit of cum dripping out of your pussy, creaminess covering his cock. you rose up & got some tissues to clean the both of you. after that, you laid down next to him. him turning to meet your face & his chest still rising.

"it doesn't matter how long we've been together, you still manage somehow to make my heart race with every breath you take." taeyong said, a bashful little smile creeping onto his face.

"well, you never fail to make me smile at your sappy commentary." you giggled, running your hands through his messy hair. "you're pretty cute too."

"I can't believe I get to date someone as angelic as you." he said, snuggling his head into your chest, arms wrapping around your waist.

"ha, you make my heart flutter, really. I'm so lucky to have you. " you cuddled him back, hands on the back of his head, gently caressing him.

"love you, y/n"

"love you too, yongie" you replied smiling, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

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icefire149 · 3 years

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Fluff prompts. 51 + destiel :)

Heyyyy there <3 I'm so sorry how long this took to write. Between my own life throwing hurdles, THIS FIC.....this fic just kept throwing me in the trunk and taking control of the car. I'm so sorry it sprung a million miles away from fluff immediately. I don't know why when I mediated on the prompt my mind went this way and didn't stop. I hope you still enjoy what ended up happening anyways <333

#51 “I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

Dean’s heart stopped the moment they fell through the portal rift. His body hit the bunker floor with a loud thump, but so did Castiel’s. It wasn’t until a moment later when Cas wiggled to sit up, slamming the palm of his hand onto the floor as he gasped for air, that Sam felt his stomach drop.

“Dean?” Sam shouted, dropping to his knees at his brother’s side. He shook Dean’s shoulder with increasing roughness.

With wide eyes, Cas pushed forward searching Dean’s face for any sign of life. “He was…..Sam, he was just-”

“He’s not breathing.” Sam muttered in shock before surging forward to start pressing on his brother’s chest. “What did he do, Cas! A deal?”

“No!” His whole body started trembling. What he wanted was to lay his hands on Dean’s head and wake him up, but there was nothing he could do now. His fingers lightly grazed across the bandage Dean quickly taped on his neck. There wasn’t an ounce of grace left.

Squeezing his hands into fists, Cas glanced around the room. Besides the three of them and the bowl the brothers must have used for the spell, the room was bare. “Where’s Jack?”

Sam kept his eyes glued to his brother’s face. His jaw tightened. “A lot’s happened since you died. Jack’s God now so he left.”

“He’s what?” Furious, Cas pushed Sam’s hands aside and took over compressions. He slammed a single fist into Dean’s chest, rocking the man’s whole body from the impact. Still, Dean didn’t wake.

Cas leaned close, listening and feeling for breath against his skin. His mouth quivered as he sat up feeling for a pulse. “No,” his voice commanded.

He started compressions, pressing harder than Sam dared. Dean’s limbs convulsed. “You failed, to mention, that you let, our son, become God,” he growled in between beats, letting his eyes trail up to Dean’s face. “You promised, me, forever! You promised. You promised.”

“You’re….breaking his rib cage,” Sam’s voice broke. His eyes were wide with horror as he watched his brother’s chest concave more than he thought possible. “Cas?” Sam’s voice shook. He rested a shaky hand on the angel’s shoulder.

“You don’t, get to die,” Cas mumbled, ignoring Sam’s presence. His hands paused for a moment as he took a deep breath. The sound of his own heart racing was like a loud boom, pounding on his eardrums. “Jack Kline, you will come home right now.”

Cas resumed compressions. Again, and again. He blinked the beading tears away, but they quickly filled his eyes. His hands, the bunker, Dean….they all blurred away as he kept beating to the rhythm of his nightmare.

The tears ran hot down his cheeks while he blinked. He needed to keep Dean in his sight. Dean was his beacon home. Sniffling, Cas couldn’t stop.

Sam withdrew his hand. “Cas?” his voice was so small and afraid like several decades were suddenly torn away.

Then as Cas pressed, he finally turned to glance at Sam. His voice cracked, "We're gonna need an ambulance."

At that, Sam flew to his feet, feeling for his phone before spotting it on the nearby table. He was unlocking it when a blinding light filled the room.

"Castiel?"

“Fix him.” Cas didn’t look up. He kept pounding on Dean’s chest. His compressions had only lessened a fraction in strength.

But Jack didn’t move from where he stood on the other side of Dean. His gaze moved over to Sam, and the fear circling there twisted the hunter’s gut into knots. “But I…..” Slowly, he dropped down to a knee, and then the other. “Cas,” his voice cracked. “There’s a bigger picture that I’m apart of now. I promised to protect it. I promised not to interfere.”

“And I, promised, to protect you,” Cas answered, halting compressions. He remained hunched over Dean with his hands still pressed over his heart. The angel’s eyes squished shut as quiet sob tore through him.

New tears slid down his already soaked face, hugging his jaw. “I can’t do that without saving him one more time. He promised me forever.” His gaze slid up to meet his son’s with fiery determination. “Jack, it’s too soon to be his time.”

“Okay.” Jack laid his hands next to his father’s. He closed his eyes, and breathed.

Dean gasped awake with three sets of eyes staring at him from above. The angels withdrew their hands.

Sam fell back into the chair at his side. His whole body sagged with exhaustion. “Thank you.”

“What happened?” Dean’s stare bounced back and forth between everyone. He slowly sat up, and Jack collided into him first.

Pressing his chin into Dean’s shoulder, Jack collapsed into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A few coughs tore through Dean’s body, but he kept a hand on the center of Jack’s back the whole time. When his breathing settled, Dean hugged him back. Also with his free hand, he laid a hand on Cas’ knee.

“I felt it….when I healed you. Everything,” Jack confessed quietly. “Your heart gave out.”

Dean snorted at that. “That’s not much of a surprise, kid.” His eyes met his brother’s. “Sammy’s been telling me for years the bacon was gonna get me.”

“No.” Jack hung on tighter. “It was grief. The loss of Cas…….me. It weakened your heart, but I knitted it all back together again.”

“Oh.” Dean’s grip on Cas’ leg tightened.

“I didn’t know you would miss me.” The words came out quiet enough that Dean wasn’t sure if Jack meant to speak them out loud. And then Jack started to let go, but Dean held on tighter.

“I’m an expert at messing up….heh, well, everything in my life, but yeah, of course Jack. Of course, I missed you.”

The rest of the day felt almost too good to be true. They all climbed into the impala -Dean drove much to Sam’s dismay- and they went out to their favorite diner closest to the bunker.

Over their favorite meals, Jack began going over his progress and plans for all of creation. There were several parts where his excitement was palpable, but he clearly was trying to be mature about the situation under Cas’ scrutinizing eye. Sam followed after, explaining in detail the spell work him and Rowena poured over crafting the past several months. Intermittently, Dean cut in to proudly point out where his research came in handy and how him and Eileen went about gathering the ingredients.

Afterwards, Jack looked up from his dessert with chocolate syrup smeared at the corner of his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he studied Dean closely. “Now that Castiel is free, what are you planning on doing now?”

Surprised, Dean leaned back in the booth. “That’s not my call.” He wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Any ideas?”

“No more dying,” Cas answered firm, taking a long drink from his beer. His steely gaze slowly moved to each person at the table. “That goes for all of you.”

“And you too,” Jack pressed.

“Of course.” Cas shivered involuntarily. “I’m not planning on returning to the Empty any time soon.”

“You shouldn’t, ever,” Sam answered. “That was the push behind removing your grace. Without it the Empty shouldn’t have any claim over you.”

“Thank you,” Cas answered, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“You’ll never go back.” The tone in Jack’s voice lifted Cas’ gaze to his. “When the time comes, you’ll have a place at my side. Forever.”

Smiling softly, the tension drained away from Cas’ body. “Thank you, Jack. That’s an honor.”

“You’ll all have an important place,” Jack continued happily. “Mary too. And my mother.”

That night had a difficult start. Jack reluctantly left for Heaven. He promised to return for the following weekend to discuss his duties further with Cas. And Cas, he held onto his son for so long that Jack in between his laughter had to appeal to Sam and Dean for help getting free.

It wasn’t long later that Sam got up from the library chairs they were all located at and rested a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re back. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight Sam,” Cas answered. He watched Sam cross over to Dean and punch his shoulder teasingly.

Once Sam was out of sight, Dean’s gaze landed on Cas. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Today, uh, didn’t exactly go as planned, but….I’m glad it happened.”

Cas’ stare hardened. “Dean, you died.”

“And I got better.”

Sighing, Cas’ gaze fell to his lap. He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “I can’t do that again.”

“Well, I can’t watch you die for….what? The fourth? The fifth time?”

Wincing, Cas nodded. “You asked me earlier….or rather, Jack asked you, what we’re planning on doing next and-” He sat up straighter in his chair and held Dean’s stare. “I want us to retire from hunting.”

Gobsmacked, Dean blinked. “Retire?”

“Doing research. Providing assistance on the phones….that’s all still acceptable and I’m willing to compromise on that.”

Dean chuckled, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Cas repeated, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded with a grin. “I’ve been bugging Sam for a couple years now about retiring…..especially if Jack could make things better...like the future that you saw.”

“Oh.” Cas tilted his head a bit. “I didn’t realize that you took that to heart.”

“I didn’t at first,” he admitted. “You died, and I figured that it was all one huge manipulation. Gabriel’s illusions. Lucifer’s lies.” Cas nodded, and Dean continued. “But then, you came home and….it became hard not to see so much of...you in him.”

“He’s a good boy, but I’m afraid that you’re placing too much….credit? On my shoulders.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Jack’s good, because he has the best father to emulate. There’s nobody else that fights….and sacrifices...to do the right thing like you.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth curved. “And they’re probably better off for it….”

“Cas, come on.” Dean sighed. “Okay, you did your big speech about how you see me….well suck it up, because you need to learn to see yourself the way everyone else sees you.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Dean pressed. “Like yeah, things don’t always go as we planned. I sure as hell know Chuck didn’t plan on being fired and left in the dirt, but….the point is that, you’re probably the best guy in existence.”

That knocked the air out of Cas’ lungs and slapped a goofy smile on his face. “You’re biased.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong, and I’m not.”

Cas shook his head, but that smile was still firmly there. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Come on,” Dean said standing up. He reached a hand out towards the angel. “It’s time for bed.”

Without hesitation, Cas took his hand but he didn’t rise from his chair. He stared at the marvel that was Dean’s skin pressed against his. It was callused in a few places, but still softer than Castiel imagined.

His gaze lifted up to meet Dean’s and a pang of anxiety wrapped around his chest. The joy slipped from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s grip tightened.

“What if I don’t wake up? Statistically, there’s a chance I’m still asleep in the Empty.”

Dean tugged Cas’ arm, and the angel let himself be pulled forward and engulfed in Dean’s arms. They clung onto each other tightly.

“You’re here,” Dean pressed. “This is real. I’ll remind you every day if I have to. I meant what I said when you woke up.”

“And then you almost didn’t get to fulfill that promise.”

“I would’ve,” Dean said, in a matter of fact. Pulling back, his eyes trailed over every inch of Cas’ face. He brought a hand up to cup the angel’s cheek, and then Dean leaned forward to press a kiss to Cas’ forehead. “Where ever my soul would've ended up, nothing was gonna change. I’d still love you.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “So you’re promising, forever-forever?”

Chuckling, Dean dropped his head so his forehead was on Cas’ shoulder. “Yeah,” he breathed, laughing still. “When forever ends, I’ll just love you some more.”

Other fics from this round of prompts

Previous round of prompts

#spn #my writing #despite this taking me a million different directions i'm really happy with how this story came out #i'm incredibly fond #i'm sorry for the initial pain. it gets sweet!

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danny-chase · 3 years

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Thanks to anon for requesting On the Run with Cassandra Cain and Dick Grayson!

Read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Barbara Gordon Characters: Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, blockbuster arc alternative ending, POV Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain is Batgirl, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Cassandra Cain Is a Good Sister, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, TW: Suicide, tw: ambiguous suicide attempt, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, there are no hugs sorry, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily (DCU), Dick Grayson Whump, Cassandra Cain Whump, Hurt No Comfort Series: Part 1 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Cass runs away with Dick instead of Catalina (Catalina doesn't exist for the sake of this AU - and this is not romantic between Dick and Cass).

Full story under cut

“Cass? You here?” Light poured into her room as Barbara cracked open the door. Cass tucked her head under the blanket, yawning - it was too early to get up. “Cass, please.” The anxiety in Barbara’s voice made her reconsider – and she sprung upright, she could feel a mission coming on, and Cass didn’t pass up missions.

“What’s up?” She asked, striding over to her closet, pulling out her Batgirl suit.

“It’s Dick, I’m worried… He left in a rush yesterday morning.” Barbara’s hands were shaking – that meant it was serious. “Cass I was watching the news… I… God…he…”

She pulled on her costume in record time. Dick was nice, he made Barbara happy. Made her happy too. Brought over cookies and told funny stories, he made the apartment feel… warm. He was a friend… no… family, they were family.

She glanced back at Barbara, pulling the door wider, she looked pale, about to cry. She shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to help. “What’s up?” She demanded, stepping around the wheelchair. She grabbed the handles, and quickly steered them both towards the mission room.

Barbara wiped her eyes as she reached the computer, pulling up a video clip. Cass recognized the apartment building; she’d been there a few times after joint missions. That was Dick’s-

Oh.

Fire rained down on the screen, the building reduced to rubble.

Barbara sobbed next to her. “I don’t know if he was there… I don’t even know if… Cass… He… What if…?” Cass tentatively patted her shoulder, uneasiness filling her stomach. “He hasn’t called… his trackers are either off or…”

“I’ll find him.” She promised. That was her mission. Find Nightwing, bring him home, then Barbara wouldn’t cry. She didn’t like when Barbara cried, it made her want to cry too.

She dove out the window, swinging through the sky, down to where she kept her bike. Gunning the engine, she flew through the streets, Blüdhaven was an hour away – but she could make it in half the time. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, she tried to settle in for a long ride.

It wasn’t hard to pick up the trail – she followed the flashing red and blue lights to scenes of carnage, masked men beaten and discarded in Nightwing’s wake. The whole day, she snuck around, carefully out of sight, watching as ambulances carted away people, describing them to Barbara and learning their names.

“This… isn’t working.” She complained, her legs swinging off the side of a roof. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s not taking a predictable path.” Barbara noted. “We’ll find him, we’ll just have to be patient.” She sounded much more confident than this morning. Cass sighed, leaning back to stare at the clouds. Why was Dick running around in circles? She reached up as raindrops began pattering down, feeling them seep through the suit. She let her hand fall across her face. Something felt off – wrong.

The injuries Nightwing left behind were violent – he was violent, but not this much. Too much force. “This isn’t right.” She muttered, reaching her head behind her head. Dick wasn’t someone that lost control – that much she had learned.

Cass sucked in a breath. It bothered her. Something bad was happening. “He’s hurting people.” She tried to explain. “Bad.” Breaking bones that would never heal right, being careless in his aim. “He doesn’t do that…” Normally, but it’s happened before. It’s happened when… “They’re threatening his family.”

That felt right. Despite what the others thought, Cass wasn’t dumb – she was a detective too. And this was her case.

“We’ll have to assume it’s connected.” Barbara mumbled. “Haley’s circus was attacked by Firefly a few days ago.”

“Huh?” What did some circus have to do with-

“It’s where he grew up.” Barbara explained. “You’re right, I suspected… we need to find him, someone might have figured out his identity.” She paused a moment. “Keep trying to track him down, I need to call Batman.” The line cut off.

Cass frowned, she figured something out… but it hadn’t been good. She briefly wondered if she’d caused more trouble by bringing it up. Hopefully, it would make sense when-

Light flooded the sky, lightning cracking, and moments later a symbol arose, shining against the clouds and illuminating the area. Another clue. She swung off the roof, careening towards the source of their troubles.

Nightwing was leaving as she arrived, tearing through the city skyline. As it poured, she did her best, following in his tracks, though not quite able to catch up. He was angry, she could see it even from far away. She was at a disadvantage; he knew the territory – knew the destination, and she frustratedly sighed as he slipped into a building a few blocks ahead.

She leapt off a balcony – about to enter where Nightwing had, when a flicker of movement caught her eye a few windows away.

“NO!” She screamed – too late, glass shattered as a bullet ripped through the night, thudding as it found a mark. An enormous man barged through the broken windows. Cass scrambled to follow, scurrying across the ledges. She could hear voices arguing in the room – Nightwing and the man, the sounds of smashing, they got farther away as she got closer.

She burst into an empty hotel room, leaping over the woman’s dead body, and running past a destroyed wall to the end of a hallway.

“Do you like being alone, Dick?” The large man caught sight of her, throwing Nightwing against the wall as he charged. Cass readied herself, rolling under his legs as he passed.

“Batgirl?” Dick mumbled, running after the man. “Get out of here!” He shouted, leaping into a flying kick, and connecting with the man’s head.

“I’ll make sure you can’t save any of them.” He punched the man again. “I’ll make sure you relive over and over, your failure to save my mother.” The man elbowed Nightwing out of the way, diving for her again. She jumped this time, using his head as a springboard. He grabbed for her ankle, but she slipped out of his reach, pulling out batarangs and throwing them as she twisted in the air. Each hit their mark, sinking into both his shoulders.

The man didn’t seem bothered, simply turning to chase her again. “It’ll never stop.” Nightwing slide tackled his ankles, and the man fell, his hands grabbing at her feet. Cass danced closer to his head. “Every loved one, every stranger, I’ll kill-urk” She struck a nerve in his jaw, kicking it a second time for good measure as the man fell unconscious.

“Call the police?” She asked, reaching up to her comm, glancing towards Nightwing. She froze in place. He was running towards her – reaching, about to hit, no he was –

She dodged reflexively as he tried to swipe her comm. “We can’t.” He was shaking – tired, exhausted, pained, scared(?) – Cass recoiled, that wasn’t how Nightwing normally was. “Give it! We can’t call anyone! You need to run, he saw you!”

“I’m not scared.” She stated, standing her ground – she was strong, she wouldn’t be killed so easily.

“You should be!” He was – what did Barbara say? Upset… no - hysterical. Panic laced his voice. “He’s not kidding, he has people – he’ll kill people just for talking to me, I’m talking to you – if he hears us talking to-” Cass handed over the comm as he frantically grasped for it again. He threw it to the floor crushing it under his boot.

“We have to go… I-I… I don’t know what to do.” He paced back and forth, muttering to himself. “I-I can’t talk to people, I need to be alone… but he saw Batgirl, she’s not safe…” He stopped, looking directly at her. He swayed on the spot, she felt uneasy – he didn’t look well. “You’re coming with me.” He demanded, grabbing her hand, and she let him lead them out through the fire escape.

She didn’t understand, she had never seen him so… frightened. They didn’t need to run, Barbara would send the police – the man couldn’t hurt anyone, they’d won. “I don’t-”

“He has power.” His breathing was ragged and pained. She cringed, he needed help – not to run. “He won’t stay in jail… He has people everywhere – there’s cameras they see everything. He-he…” They dropped into an alley. “It won’t stop.” The hand in hers was trembling.

“I can-” He stopped in his tracks.

“NO! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” He bellowed, angrily snapping at her. “YOU’RE NOT SAFE – NO ONE’S SAFE UNTIL I’M GONE.”

Dick’s body was a wave of emotions, and she was being swept along with the current. “I’m strong! You’re being a coward!” She yelled back – but she already knew she wouldn’t change his mind.

“Maybe I am.” He deflated and began running again. “But everyone’s safer this way.”

She was at a loss for what to do, so she kept running. She couldn’t leave him alone; she couldn’t go back and explain to Barbara. She regretted letting him smash her comm. And so, she followed, and they weaved in and out of street after street, rain soaking through her costume, chilling her to the bone.

While they ran, Cass had formulated a new strategy – wait until Nightwing lowered his guard, then nerve strike him, and bring him back to Gotham. A struggle would be too risky – he was acting erratic, someone (him) might get hurt if she tried too soon. So, sitting atop a train, watching as hills rolled over the horizon trying her best to be patient.

The wind whipped in her face, the rumbling of the train drowning out all other noises. Nightwing paced beside her, obsessively turning from side to side, trying to keep all directions in his line of sight. He was getting too close to the edge.

His movement wasn’t correct – Dick’s gait was normally smooth, intentional. Now, he dragged his steps, the normal grace gone. He kept tripping over his own feet.

She couldn’t understand how one man could have such an effect; he was still shaking in anger and fear. They’d defeated the enemy, she’d won, right? Cass never really thought much about what comes after that – but Nightwing seemed convinced the battle wasn’t over.

Dick was staring over the edge of the car. Cass was moving before she realized what was happening. She grabbed a fistful of his costume as he leaned forward, pulling him back.

“Don’t.” She couldn’t tell if it was accidental or intentional – but she didn’t wait to see if he’d pull back on his own. Nobody would die tonight. Maybe she’d have to speed up her plan.

He remained silent and stepped away from the edge. They slowly fell back into their routine – Nightwing pacing as she kept a watchful eye. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she watched him make his careful pattern – now staying three feet from the edges.

Cass sighed. She was tired of running – she could protect herself; this was pointless. She wasn’t sure how long they’d wasted like this – the sun had been rising when they got on the train and now it was starting to set again. She was hungry, thirsty, and hadn’t slept in two days.

She kept waiting for Dick to crash, but he never even sat down. He couldn’t stay like this forever - she was pretty sure he was injured based off his movement, he had to rest soon.

“Sleep.” She demanded (as she had maybe an hour ago). He shook his head, going back to his pacing. Cass groaned, lying back to look at the sky, though keeping him in her field of vision. Stars were starting to peak out, though clouds were blocking some of them. She bit her lip; she was never good at helping people like this.

Her stomach growled loudly, and she looked at him pointedly. “We’ll get food when we get off.” He replied in a monotone voice.

She blinked sleep out of her eyes, digging her nails into the palms of her hands, and sitting back up. Nightwing could not be left unsupervised – that much was clear. And so, she resigned herself to watching pacing once more.

The sun was high in the sky when the train finally began rolling to a stop. She followed Nightwing as he leapt off the car and began running after him towards the tree line. He made it about ten paces before collapsing. Cass rushed forward, as he began pushing himself up.

She struck his jaw without warning, and he crumpled to the ground. Finally, she sighed in relief, things were easier this way. Crouching down, she hiked him into a fireman’s carry, and then looked around.

She was in the middle of nowhere. Cows grazed off to the right, and there was an open field to her left. Straight ahead, the land eventually reached a forest. A small train station sat maybe a mile away.

It would take a day to get back to Blüdhaven, but she was hungry and tired, and had no idea where she was. The train still rolled along behind her. So, she decided to walk alongside it – towards the lonely little station, away from home.

Nightwing was heavy. She was strong, but he was… heavy. And she was tired.

Every step was painful, it wasn’t long before she was drenched in sweat. She could see the station in the distance, slowly getting closer. She could make it… She could push through this – she’d pushed through worse.

She focused on her breath, staring at the ground as she took step after step.

“Lose some weight.” She muttered to the side of Dick’s head. She cursed herself for not packing more water and snacks – she’d run out while tracking him yesterday.

She refused to stop, pushing past the pain of burning muscles, her suit unbearably hot in the afternoon sun. Gritting her teeth, she powered on.

She wanted to scream with furry, at the man who’d hurt her brother – who’d left him so worn out and totally beaten despite losing the fight. She wanted to scream because she didn’t understand – why was this happening to them? They were strong – their family was strong – they shouldn’t have to live like this. Cassandra Cain did not run from fights, neither did Dick Grayson, and yet here they were.

She grunted, shifting Dick’s weight on her shoulders. Cass didn’t like thinking about these things. She liked when things were easy – when she beat the bad guy, and things were over. Though, with every mission, she was starting to realize things weren’t always that simple…

She thought of the man she’d rescued, who’d died on a train like the one beside her, because he’d wanted to say goodbye to his mom. Of the girl who’d she’d rescued from her father, yet she’d condemned to a different kind of hell living with her mother. Of the boy who wanted his father to come home safely, despite the man being a ruthless killer.

And finally of the man who’d defeated Nightwing, his words dealing more damage than his massive fists.

This world was so confusing – sometimes she missed the days before the words clouded her mind, muddling her in the mists of gray that transformed what she’d seen before in black and white. Was she better for living in that gray? For knowing it was there? Sometimes, it was hard to tell.

She stumbled on uneven ground and soon she was falling, Dick sliding off her shoulders. She hit the ground face first and tasted blood. She let out the pent-up yell, frustratedly pounding the ground. This sucked. Everything sucked. Why couldn’t things just be easy for them?!

Dragging herself to her feet, she ignored the pain wracking her exhausted body as she lifted the broken vigilante once more. She took slower steps, but certain ones, and inched closer and closer towards somewhere she hoped would be better.

#bad things happen bingo #batfam #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #dick grayson #barbara gordon #tw: suicde #tw: ambiguous suicidal intent #tw: Blockbuster arc #batfamily #batgirl #nightwing #my writing

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theeasternempress · 3 years

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Sometimes honeysuckle is too sweet

Summary - In a field with some of the sweetest-smelling and most beautiful flowers Din has ever seen, he comes to the heart-crushing realization that he can never have what he so desperately wants.

AO3

Din had no idea how he and his son had ended up in a field of flowers. The pair had been on a walk on some random planet that Din had already forgotten the name of and ended up here.

Looking around the massive field, it seemed as if they were the only ones here, which Din was more than happy about. Even though he found himself to be more social since the child came into his life, he still liked his private time.

The child’s enthusiastic, happy coos at Din’s feet proved he wasn’t the only one who found the flower field pretty. The child looked up at his dad, asking permission with his eyes to run around.

Din replied, “You can play here, but be careful and don’t go too far.”

The child giggled and ran as fast as his little feet could carry him into the flowers. The flowers in this area weren’t too tall, but the child was still so small that the only thing Din could see were a pair of green ears running around wildly. Din laughed to himself at the sight of his little one running around to his heart’s content.

Din leaned himself against a tree and sunk down to the ground so he could stretch out his legs. He’d been sitting peacefully for no more than ten seconds when the child came running up to him with a few small wildflowers in his hand. The child was breathing heavily when he stopped in front of his father, but he still presented his gift with a wide, happy grin.

“Oh, are these for me? Thank you, little one,” Din told the child in a soft voice, reaching out to pluck the flowers from his son’s small hand. The child giggled and clapped his hands before running off again.

He didn’t go far, and Din saw that he was picking more flowers. He made several trips back and forth, each time bringing a handful of flowers to his father, who thanked him and took them gently every time.

When the child returned this time, Din had a small pink flower in his hand for his son. Din presented the flower to his son just as the boy had done to him, and the child cooed happily as he took the small flower in his hands. Instead of holding on to it like his father, the child shoved the head of the flower into his mouth and began chewing on it. Din was quick to break the stem of the flower and then flick the rest of the flower out of his son’s mouth with his finger.

“You aren’t supposed to eat flowers,” Din told his boy. The child pouted for a moment, but was quick to return to his flower picking. Din laughed to himself about how easily distracted his little one was.

The flower picking went on for nearly fifteen minutes and by the end of it, Din’s hands were overflowing with flowers. The child presented him with another handful of flowers and Din calmly spoke, “Thank you, but I think this is more than enough flowers for me. We have to make sure we save some for everyone else.”

The child looked sad for a moment before he brightened up with a smile in his face. Crawling into his father’s lap, he stood up and balanced himself on his father’s thighs and began tucking flowers into the space between Din’s armor and his clothes.

Din was struck silent by the act of his son, but let him continue sticking flowers wherever he pleased until there were no more flowers left. There were flowers jutting out of every piece of armor on his body as well as numerous flowers circling his belt around his waist. In that moment he was thankful there was nobody else around; he doubted he was upholding the typical intimidation of a Mandalorian.

The child beamed up at his father, clearly happy with his work. Din stroked his son’s forehead and ears and said, “Thank you, my boy.”

The child smiled again before reaching one of his hands up to hold his father’s hand against his forehead. Din’s heart skipped a beat at the sweet gesture and rubbed his thumb across his son’s head. Father and son maintained the touch for another minute before the child climbed out of his father’s lap to run back out to the flower field.

Din watched his son with a soft smile on his face. He wished he could preserve moments like this forever and grant his son nothing but a joyful life. Din frowned as he realized that that life would never exist. These sweet, happy moments would only be a glimmer in their lives while the rest was filled with fear and blood. He could never settle down, he could never stop working, and he could never give up the Creed he had dedicated his entire life to. Now, it seemed, he was dedicating his son to the life of a Creed he had never sworn.

But Din had never craved a new life more than since he met his child. He dreamed of a life off of their ship that was constantly falling apart, even though it had been Din’s home for decades. He dreamed of an actual home, a place where he didn’t have to hang a hammock made from old cloth across his already small bedroom to act as a bed for his son. He dreamed of a little cottage on some small, unknown planet. He dreamed of an actual, true home. He dreamed of somewhere safe, somewhere warm.

He could put his armor away and retire so he could create a life that his child deserved. He’d put his son in school and Din would ensure that his son was able to achieve all of his hopes and dreams. They’d have fresh, hot meals every day and Din would spoil his son rotten. Anything and everything his son wanted, he would give to him.

And with retirement, there was nothing that could keep Din away from his boy. They could spend every day, all day together making memories. Din would play with his son until naptime, and then play with him all over again once he woke up. Maybe their cottage would have separate beds, but nothing eased Din’s sleep like having his son at his side.

These, of course, were unachievable dreams. Din knew that. There would be no cottage, no retirement, and no good life. Some days, Din wasn’t even sure if he would be alive. With every day, every bounty, and every mission, Din was putting himself at risk. His biggest fear had always been something happening to his son, but his second biggest fear was something happening to him that would cause his son to be stranded and all alone in a galaxy that had a target fixated on him.

Of all of the wounds and pain Din had experienced, this was by far the worst; knowing that the thing he craved so desperately was unattainable. By swearing the Creed all of those years ago, he had unknowingly doomed himself and the one he loved the most to a life of misery. And that broke Din’s heart.

A resounding sob broke Din from his thoughts, only for Din to realize it had come from him. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and out of his helmet, dropping down onto the flowers stuffed into his armor. Din smiled through his tears at the flowers, plucking a baby blue one from his cuirass to hold it tight in his hand. His child was happy, and Din knew he would do everything in his power to keep it that way.

Din had no idea how long he had been lost in his thoughts, but it was long enough for the child to slip out of his sight. He looked around desperately, but he saw no green ears that would alert him to his child’s presence.

Din forgot his tears as panic surged in his heart, but a deep breath later and Din had turned on his helmet’s scanner to look for footprints. Sure enough, there were little three-toed footprints embedded in the grass.

The child hadn’t gone very far and when Din found him, he was facing away from him, playing in the grass. The panic that was previously lodged in Din’s heart was replaced with warmth and adoration at the sight of his son.

The panic surged a moment later as Din realized that his child was not playing but shoving handfuls of dirt and grass into his mouth. Din sprung forward to pull the child’s dirty hands out of his mouth. He tried to get the child to spit out the dirt and grass, but it seemed as if he had swallowed all of it.

Din sighed deeply and said, “You aren’t supposed to eat grass and dirt. If you’re hungry, I can give you a snack.”

The child stared blankly at his father while subtly reaching for another handful of grass. Din, of course, saw the child’s movement and grabbed his wrists to stop him. He scooped his son up and began walking back to the ship. The child pouted and whined for a minute, but eventually rested his head on his father’s shoulder and fell asleep.

Maybe Din would never be able to achieve his greatest desire, but he would dedicate his life to these soft moments and keeping his son happy.

#The Mandalorian #baby yoda #din djarin #my writing #Hurt/comfort

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thebmatt · 3 years

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FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #26 - Free Day!

Herein I commit the chronicle of the Traveler. Shepherd to the starts in the dark.

Thought the world be sundered and our souls set adrift, where you walk, my dear friend, fate shall surely follow.

For yours is the Fourteenth Seat – The seat of Azem.

Rheika held the orange crystal before her as the golden light sunburst pattern shimmered and shined on the floor of the Tower’s throne room. Four circles of white light were formed at the edge of the sunburst, two on either side of her, one before, the last behind.

Franks looked around at the spectacle. “Uh…Rheika? How are you doing this?”

“Don’t think it’s her. It’s that crystal she found…the one that mighta belonged to her” Dahkar hadn’t taken his eyes off Elidibus since his transformation into the Warrior of Light. His greatsword was drawn.

“He’s right. If Elidibus is gonna summon people to empower him, I figure it’s only right we bring in a little help of our own!” Rheika said, smirking.

She pressed the crystal to her breast, and columns of light erupted from the circles, empowered version of the very summoning circles G’raha had used to bring aid to her during her battle against Emet-Selch.

The Warrior of Light, Elidibus, stared at her in wonder. “An invocation of eld…thought not of Hydaelyn’s making….what ARE you?”

Rheika started to think of a smartass remark to throw at him, but before she could, he continued. “No-it matters not! You are the enemy, and you will fall! Even should it cost me everything, I will not forsake my duty!”

He lifted his sword to the heavens, and a pillar of light of his own flashed into and out of existence. “For my people-for our world, I will strike you down!

The team drew their weapons as the columns faded, revealing four people. In front of Rheika stood a raven-haired elezen dressed in the gleaming armor of a paladin. “Well, well. Not sure how you all called us here, but it seems like this is a problem we can certainly do something about.” Her voice was refined and smooth, more akin to an Ishgardian than a Gridanian. She turned to look behind her. “So who exactly- What the HELLS?”

The others all recoiled slightly, startled.

The Elezen looked over to the people to their left and right. Rheika naturally followed her gaze. “Holy…shite…”

Standing to her left was….herself…clad in the garb of a Thavnairian dancer, carrying weapons she immediately recognized as the chakrams Fearless made use of as a dancer herself.

To her right was….another Fearless that had the familiar teal undercut hairstyle, but was clad in black robes and wielding a thuamaturge’s staff.

The two of them were staring at their counterparts in open shock. The other Rheika was the first to speak. “Are you…me? Damn, that is awesome. Stuck to the bow, did you? This is trippy. Holy shit, Syhrwyda, check it out, they have a you! Damn, black hair is a good look on you, girl!” Her voice mirrored Rheika’s own, though slightly raspy.

Fearless turned to look at her counterpart. “Did you say….Syhrwyda?”

Her counterpart looked confused. “What…is that not your name?”

“Class 12 aetherial deiform entity present! I suggest we table this discussion and initiate anti-eikon combat procedures first and deal with the cosmological implications of this after! Unless you all would prefer this thing destroy us?”

The new speaker’s voice was clipped and precise, almost…imperial. The four Warriors in the middle turned. A midlander with sandy blonde hair, carrying an Machinist’s weapon and aetherotransformer stood there, holographic screens deployed in front of him as he read the data that scrolled across them. Though he wore goggles, all of them could clearly see no third eye in the center of his forehead.

A conscript? No he’s right, fight now, talk later.

Dahkar strode in front of Rheika to stand next to the Elezen woman. He looked over at her. “Dahkar Darkspear.”

She smiled, shield raised. “Veilette de Liis. That’s a big sword for someone named Darkspear” she said with a slight teasing lilt.

Rheika reached her mind into the Armory, finding her Ninja soul crystal there and quickly re-established her connection to it. With a quick *pop*, she was glad in her shinobi uniform, twin daggers in hand. “Franks, Fearless?”

“We’ve got the healing, Rheika” Franks said from behind her as two more *pops* sounded behind her, followed by Frank’s fae companion winking into existence.

Elidibus raised his sword, and moved to attack.

Rheika thought Hades had been the toughest battle that they had ever fought.

Elidibus put lie to that statement.

He was every fighting discipline they group had ever seen in one massive primal. Swordplay, thaumaturgy, summoning, he threw all of it at them and more. What was worse, he kept bringing more of those spectres into the fight to help him.

Luckily, the allies she’d summoned with Azem’s crystal were every bit her group’s equal. More than once she’d had to remind herself to stop staring at her counterpart whirling and dashing around the battlefield, constantly throwing and catching her chakrams, using the magic of the Kreigstanz to empower them all. She’d seen Fearless do this more than once, but watching herself do it was…amazing.

Didn’t help that she now knew that she looked really hot in the outfit, either.

Fearless’ counterpart was a terror, herself. Elidibus’ magic might have been devastating, but he was an Ascian, or a primal, or…..well, both, she supposed. Other-Fearless was a mortal, and the devastation she struck him with, massive explosions of flame and boulders of ice, even calling an explosion of pure void energy into existence. More than once she spotted her Fearless watching her in wonder….and the Other-Fearless admiring her mastery of Astrology. Dahkar and Veilette worked in perfect synchronicity, back and forth trading the deflection of blows dealt by the Warrior and harrying him from multiple angles.

In the end, he’d fallen. And when he didn’t stay down, G’raha had sprung his trap, wielding the massive energy of the Crystal Tower to contain Elidibus’ soul…and disintegrate it.

She had given back the Convocation’s soul crystals to the echo of the real Elidibus that remained. He deserved to bid farewell to his friends, one last time, before he too was reduced to aetheric dust, leaving behind the soul vessel he’d taken.

Luckily she had picked it up, for the strain of destroying the final Unsundered had proven too much for the Exarch’s body, which was slowly growing more crystalline. But he’d transferred his soul into the vessel , asking her to take it back to his original body. She’d agreed, and he’d become a sentinel, standing atop the tower on the First until…well probably forever, unless something catastrophic happened.

She hugged her friends, her sister and brothers, then turned to the foursome she’d brought here. “Thank you.”

Other-Rheika ran and jumped into her arms. “No sweat! It’s what we do after all!” Rheika hugged her back, adamantly refusing to let her hands wander, but damn, is this what other people felt like when they hugged her. Cause it was nice.

Her counterpart pulled back. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking”

“That I’m suddenly extremely tempted to explore a new and intriguing meaning of the phrase ‘go fuck yourself’? Yeah, more than just a little.”

She giggled. “Oh, it’s very tempting. But if this works like how it did with G’raha did it for us when we fought Emet, I’m guessing we don’t have that long before we go back home. Plus….I don’t think I could do that to Moen and Uri. I mean they’d probably understand, but it feels wrong, you know?”

Rheika looked at her in shock. “Did…did you say Moen? As in Moenbryda? She’s alive in your universe?”

“Yes? Oh fuck, did you lose her? I’m so sorry!”

“She died making sure Nabriales was felled. Used all her aether to make a blade of light strong enough to destroy him. I didn’t even get to know her that well.”

Other-Rheika hugged her again. “Fuck. We all managed to make it to her in time. Between the four of us, we had more than enough spare aether to do it. We’ve become….really close, and through her I got closer to Uri, too. We….we’re really in love. I haven’t felt anything like it with anyone else, really. Wasn’t sure I could for a while. But I guess you know what that’s like, right?”

Rheika shook her head. “I don’t, actually. I’m aromantic. Sounds like you’re demi, I’m guessing?”

“No shit? Huh. Guess we’re not exactly alike.”

“Yeah, I’m not trained in the Kriegstanz either, for another. Now I wanna be though!”

“Really? So what else do you know?”

While the pair of Miqo’te had been talking, Fearless had approached her own counterpart. “So….Syhrwyda? Guessing you had better luck than I did in the parents department?” she asked, sadly.

Syhrwyda shook her head. “By that tone of voice, I’m guessing we both had shite experiences. Mine always demeaned me until they decided I was useless as anything but marriage collateral. I fled, stowed away in a merchant caravan until I ended up in Ul’dah”

Fearless nodded, smiling as she did “Yeah, same here actually, except I ended up in Limsa. Decided I didn’t want any part of them in my life anymore, so I changed my name to just go by the translation. Got father’s name away from me and if they came looking, well, no one would know who ‘Syhrwyda’ was. It worked for a while, at least.”

Syhywyda chuckled. “Smart, that never even occurred to me. I got taken in by a Hellsguard, a captain in the Flames. I think he saw how lost I was and took pity on me. He…treated me like I was his own daughter. Made sure I knew how to make it out there, life lessons my…that they never bothered to teach me. I owe him more than I can ever pay back. So one day, same day I got accepted to the Thaumaturge’s Guild I came home and gave him a copy of my new identification papers….changed my last name to Saztiwilfwyn. Never saw him cry so much, but we were both real happy.”

“Did they ever come lookin’ for you?”

As the duo continued, Dahkar and Franks walked over the Veilette, who was speaking with the hyur. As they approached, she smiled and walked over to greet them. “You boys fought well, not that I expected you wouldn’t. I imagine you have to, tryin to keep up with your own Rheika and Syhrwyda over there.” She nodded in their general direction.

Dahkar laughed. “We do our best.”

Franks likewise chuckled, then extended a hand to her “Aleister Franks. Pleasure.”

She took it, shaking with a firm grip. “Veilette de Liis”

“….why does that name sound familiar…wait, Dahkar, didn’t we fight Hades alongside someone with that name?”

His eyes opened wide. “THAT’S why it sounded so familiar! But…well she didn’t look anything like you. Dark blue skin, purple and red hair, punched like a freaking battering ram, and she was from the Shroud. Your accent…I’m guessing Ishgardian?”

Veilette nodded. “Formerly, at least, my family got exiled and lives in Ul’dah now. Part political maneuvering by the Dzmaels that we didn’t foresee, part discrimination because, well, we might not look it, but we’re Duskwrights and we’ve always faced some semblance of discrimination over it. Not ‘proper’ Ishgardians or some such tripe. Sounds like that other Veilette and I share a love of punching people though. Was she trained in the Rhalgr’s Fist style too?”

Franks shrugged. “No idea, we didn’t get to talk to her that much, and none of us are trained in it ourselves, so we wouldn’t have recognizes it”

Dahkar looked past her to the hyur, who was ignoring the conversation in favor of meticulously inspecting his equipment. “Uh…hey, man. Just wanted to say thank you for the help”

Veilette intervened “Ah, don’t mind him. That’s B. Short for Brorthon, but we all just call him B out of habit at this point. Tripped over his name a few too many times. He’s not rude on purpose, he’s just…been through things and isn’t good with people he doesn’t know well. He’s from Dalmasca, but they conscripted him into their schools when they conquered the place. Discovered he’s a magitek prodigy, so they basically tried to erase his whole past. Got ‘adopted’ by an Imperial family who basically brainwashed him into forgetting a lot of his past. He got out when a couple of other prisoners escaped and came to the Shroud, but the pursuers killed a woman he was close to during the getaway. He’s….been wary of getting close with anyone ever since. Absolute genius with magitek, and fights like hell with a gunblade, but…yeah. “

Franks nodded. “I’m something of a magitek user myself. You think I could try…”

Veilette held up a hand, shaking her head. “I’ve no doubt you could, given time, but I think I feel the spell’s hold on us fading, and I’d rather not agitate him.”

Franks stepped back. “I understand.”

Dahkar threw a salute her way. “Good luck back there.”

She smiled. “You as well!” Then she turned to the others. “Hey, you two! Finish up, I think we’re heading home soon!”

The two Roegadyn women exchanged hugs before Syhrwyda walked over to her friends’ sides. The two Rheikas did likewise.

“You sure you don’t wanna try a kiss before you go?”

The Rheika in the dancer’s costume giggled. “Bye, sweetie. Take care of those guys. I can tell by the way you carry yourself you’re the leader of em. Another difference between us, I don’t think I’ve got that in me.”

Rheik really wanted to offer some encouragement about that, but there wasn’t time, as the four summoned Warriors of Light began glowing. Their Rheika and Syhrwyda reached their companions and each took a hand of the other two (forcibly in B’s case). Pillars of light erupted from the ground, and the group was gone.

Rheika turned to Franks. “Any luck on doing that whole universe jumping thing?”

He laughed. “Not hardly, not sense I got us all here anyway. I think that’s pretty amazing.”

“Yeah yeah. I wanna visit their universe, though.”

Dahkar elbowed her. “You just want to watch yourself with Moenbryda and Urianger.”

She blushed. “You uh…you heard that, huh?”

Fearless put a hand on her shoulder. “You….weren’t exactly quiet, hon. Either of you.”

Rheika covered her face with her hands. “Uuuugh, okay look, maybe you’re right, let’s keep this to ourselves. I can hear the others coming, we’ve got some explaining to do, so let’s leave that part out. Kay? Kay”

The others chuckled, but also added their assent.

They all turned at the sound of the Scions approaching from within the tower.

It turned out they didn’t need to explain much at all. At least not right away. The sight of the Exarch converted and Elidibus gone definitely spoke volumes.

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV 2021 Writing Challenge #Rheika Aliapoh #Dahkar Darkspear #Aleister Franks #oldmanfranks #Fearless Willow #Other Scions from the multiverse

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feistypaants-archived · 4 years

Text

Between The Pipes [Chapter 28]

Rating: M Words: 2028 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: hmmmmmm.....

thanks 2 @ahtohallan-calling and @awesomemaple for the sven and anna dancing to lizzo inspo lmao the true mvps.

Enjoy!

Kristoff almost fell over when Anna sprung herself forward to land on his back with her arms around his neck. It was mostly the surprise of it, but he managed to right them both before she even noticed his stumble. “Hi,” he laughed, shifting his bag of gear to his other shoulder as she slid down the expanse of his back. “You’re chipper this morning.”

“Well,” she grinned, sliding her hand into his and lacing their fingers together. “It’s a beautiful day!”

It was most decidedly not a beautiful day. It was cold and gloomy and snowing. And not even a pretty snow… just wet and harsh. But if Anna felt that way, then sure, he could roll with it. “That so?”

She had started swinging their hands together as they walked, her thumb tracing circles over his. “Mhmm,” was all she hummed, nodding slowly.

It had been two weeks since the gala and she had spent almost every night at his house. It had been weird to fall asleep without her last night, but she had insisted on staying with her sister at her hotel. Apparently they needed some bonding time, and who was he to deny her that? But still, he already felt tension draining from his shoulders as she squeezed his hand and bumped his hip with her own while they walked and she talked about the bright side of the bad weather.

“I missed you,” he mumbled beneath her rambling, blushing bright when she stopped mid sentence to look up at him.

A small hop-skip-jump brought her lips up to his cheek, and then she was smiling even brighter. “I missed you, too.”

Kristoff coughed slightly, just to clear his throat, before shaking his head and trying to accept the small moment of vulnerability. “So, um…” He shrugged and kept his gaze forward. “Did you have fun with your sister?” He relaxed just slightly when she pressed her arm against his.

“Oh, yes.” She paused for a moment as she looked around. “I guess Elsa and Honey have been…” Anna practically giggled behind her hand. “You know.” A snort laugh and red tinged cheeks made him smile. “Talking.”

He could laugh at this shy, bashful Anna, so different from one he knew. Maybe it was because she was talking about her sister, but shit, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was how she talked about him, too. “Oh? Talking? Or… not talking.”

Anna whacked at his chest and laughed again, wrapping her hands around his bicep this time. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

A relaxed silence fell between them again as they continued down the corridor. Kristoff had spent the whole night thinking, and talking to Sven, and talking to his mother, and… He had decided that he wanted to do something special for Anna. He wanted to take her somewhere fancy, wine and dine her, and, fuck, as cheesy as it was, wanted to officially ask her out.

They sat in limbo right now, unsure of where to proceed. Their feelings were on the table, but, at least for Kristoff, things still felt uncertain. Did she want him to fully figure himself out before they moved forward? Or was she willing to work with him? It was a lot to ask of someone, but she was the most patient and kind person he had ever met.

If anyone would be able to help him, it was her.

Coach Mattias’ door slammed open as they stepped into the locker room. It startled Anna, who clenched his arm a little tighter as their eyes both snapped to the entrance. Warren emerged first, obviously irritated, followed by Mattias and…

“Papa!” Anna exclaimed, clearly taken aback. “I didn’t think you were coming to the skate…”

His face was stern as he turned his attention to the two of them. Kristoff could swear there was something venomous in his eyes. “I wasn’t. But I was called for a meeting.”

Kristoff was going to let go of her, but he felt just a slight squeezing of her fingers. “Oh?”

“We’ll talk later.”

And then he left the locker room, leaving a dozen or so stressed out players in his wake.

“Dude, what was that?” Kristoff’s eyes moved quickly to Warren and Anisimov, hunkered into a corner as Warren’s glare lingered just slightly too long on Anna.

He met Kristoff’s gaze, clenched his jaw, and snapped his head back around to face his teammate. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

This didn’t seem good.

—

Family skate had never been Kristoff’s favorite event. Sometimes he was able to fly his family out around Christmas and keep them in town long enough, but with his sister having a new baby and his dad needing to get someone trained to run the shop, they weren’t able to join him this year. But it was okay, because this year he had Anna, and she more than made up for all the years he just stuck awkwardly with Sven, Jelissa, and their siblings.

She clearly had snuck in more practice since their initial learn-to-skate session, and was easily gliding over the ice - nothing fancy, but clearly comfortable on skates. Every once in a while a good song would come on, and she would speed up to catch Sven and Jelissa as they danced and sang and all-around made fools of themselves.

He fucking loved it.

One song in particular had Sven crouched and shaking his ass back and forth as Anna smacked at it, the lyrics rapping something about fit fat asses and needing tempo and so many other words he couldn’t understand. Kristoff would have been jealous if it were anyone else, but there was absolutely zero reason for it with the two of them. He even found himself skating closer as Anna sang something about boyfriends watching and made little finger hooks to urge him over.

He would never be able to express how open and free he felt when she was by his side.

“Okay, I’m tired,” she laughed, leaning on Kristoff’s shoulder. “Water break.”

Kristoff gestured for her to lead the way, but shivered slightly when her hands slid over his hips as she came to a stop behind him, one arm lifting to flick at the bobble on top of his toque. “Take me where I need to be!” she hollered, wrapping her arms around his waist.

So, as was his nature when it came to Anna, he did the exact opposite.

Bending at the knees, and hearing her quick realization of what was happening, Kristoff took off, almost full sprint, with Anna laughing wildly behind him. “Stop stop stop!” But her laughter was louder than the protests, so he kept going, zig zagging out of other skaters while she yelled apologies behind them.

“Kristoff!!”

He grabbed her hands with his own, holding on tight to her, as he whipped around a corner.

“Too fast for you?”

“Not even close!”

Finally, when he had worn himself out, too, Kristoff came to a gradual stop right at the door, offering Anna a hand to help her step off the ice. She was still laughing, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and cupping her jaw in his palms. One more sighing laugh came from her throat as she looked up at him with a crooked smile.

She was so fucking beautiful.

He kissed her, deep and slow, earning a round of wolf-whistling from the adults in the rink. He didn’t even care, because her hands were gripping his and her chest was arching into his and god damn it, did he need something fancy to tell her what he wanted? “Anna…” His breath was heavy as he pulled away, swallowing around the new lump in his throat. “Anna, I…”

Her eyes were full of wonder as she kept her gaze locked onto his, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“I… I really --”

“Anna.”

Her fathers’ stern voice cut through their thoughts and she jumped away as quickly as she could, turning to face the owner with her hands clasped together behind her back.

Of course.

“Hi, papa.” She waved her fingers at Kristoff from behind her back, urging him to head back out onto the ice. “What’s up?”

Kristoff felt her fathers’ eyes locked onto him as he took a few glides backwards, giving them the privacy he thought she might be asking for. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he felt unsettled as he tried his best to turn his attention back to his friends instead of on Anna, following the owner back into Mattias’ office.

—

Almost an hour passed before Anna reemerged.

Mr. Arne had come out after just twenty minutes, bid his farewells, and told them to give his daughter some privacy before heading out of the arena. Kristoff had pulled out his phone and texted her, not wanting to barge in on something she didn’t want him to bear witness to.

Is everything okay baby?

yeah! yep!! i’ll be out soon!! Sorry!!

Are you sure? I can come back if you want.

no!!! it’s fine! just doing some quick paperwork!!

He wasn’t sure he believed her, and the excess of exclamation points certainly didn’t help, but she wasn’t pleading for him to come and comfort her and he had to trust that she would ask if she had wanted him to. But when she came back out to the ice, he noticed her red nose and puffy cheeks, and immediately skated over to her. “Anna…?”

A smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes?”

He scanned over her face, noting the softly twitching corner of her mouth and flaring of her nostrils that he could guess signified she wanted him to drop it. So… he held out his hand to her and waggled his fingers in her direction. “Wanna keep skating?” The relief he saw drop in her shoulders made him tense in her place as she nodded and stepped back onto the ice.

It all felt different then. She kept a firm grip on his fingers as they moved slowly around the rink, no more enthusiasm in her small strides, and definitely no more dancing.

He had to try again. “Baby…” his voice was low, just above a whisper, as he pressed a kiss against her hairline.

“I’m fine. Please.” She kept her gaze firmly forward, until they reached the end of their second lap. She tugged on his arm just slightly, tilting her body towards the exit. “I think…” she started, biting her bottom lip. “I think that I really want to get a burger.”

Kristoff almost laughed. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go. We can talk. Let me just grab my --”

But then she was red faced and she was hollering at Sven and Jelissa, waving them over and inviting them along.

Anna didn’t want to be alone with him right now.

Normally it wouldn’t bother him, but when it felt like she was going to some great length to avoid telling him what was bothering her, he could feel irritation prickling at his spine. Kristoff sighed and trailed behind the others as they made their way back to the locker room to grab their things.

Soon after, they were all climbing into Sven’s Escalade, making their way to his favorite burger joint. He said it was a hole in the wall and you had to know someone to know about it. Kristoff couldn’t help but tease him, saying knowing him clearly hadn’t done them any favors.

Anna’s hollow laugh felt like a knife in his stomach.

He knew she’d tell him when she was ready, but there was a burning in the back of his throat that begged him to pester her until she caved, until she laid it all out on the table. But that was his father. That was something he would do. That wasn’t Kristoff. He wasn’t going to do that.

Instead, he reached over, clasped her hand in his, and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

At least this time her smile was a little more genuine.

#btpfic #feistypantswrites

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angelteyam · 5 years

Text

Rewrite the Stars, Part 1 (p.p.)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Super!OC

Summary: Steve Rogers finds more than he bargained for in the remains of a crumbling building, smack dab in the middle of the Battle of New York.

Word Count: 2,977

Warnings: Major character death, mentions of human remains, Endgame spoilers (derp), panic attacks/anxiety, mentions of depression, nightmares, blood/cuts, bruising, vomit, and just a whole lot of angst

A/N: Wow this took a million years to finally finish but the first chapter is FINALLY HERE!!!!!!!! Thank you a katrillion times to @parrkerspeters for all you’ve done to help with this story. You’re an amazing friend and I’d sell my soul for you any day. <3 I hope you guys enjoy this and I hope you like Charlie, she’s come to mean a lot to me and I know you guys will love her. I love you all, and thank you so much for reading!! <3

Steve Rogers was tired. He was so, so tired. The battle had been raging on for hours now, and the portal in the sky above the Empire State building didn’t seem to be closing anytime soon. He pummeled his shield into the chest of a Chitauri soldier. Then flung it up into the air, right into the barrel of one of their ships. Tony and Banner were off dealing with the big guys, and he had just finished boosting Natasha into the air to hitch a ride up to the cube.

Lighting pierced the sky as Thor thrust Mjolnir up into the air, striking down every soldier within a 10-yard radius. Clint fired an explosive arrow into one of the soldier’s heads, sending him and his ship careening into the remaining ships behind them. The Avengers seemed to be winning so far. But as Steve watched a hoard of Chitauri flood down 67th, he sighed heavily, wiping the sweat and a small trail of blood from his brow. The rest of the team were otherwise occupied at the moment, meaning he would have to deal with the pests himself for the time being.

Steve bounded down the street, gave himself a boost off the roof of a car, and sprinted off in pursuit of the alien soldiers. They were no match for his speed (or his strength for that matter), and he managed to wipe most of them out with a few quick swings of his shield before they even stepped off the street. He let out a sigh of relief, knowing that there were families in the buildings surrounding him, hiding away from the battle taking place in the city. Steve knew the innocent civilians wouldn’t stand a chance against the aliens.

It seemed that Steve couldn’t catch a break that day, as a flash of movement into one of the buildings caught his eye. He swore under his breath and sprinted down the street, trying to get into the building before the soldier could cause any damage.

It was too late. Not a moment later, the ground rumbled beneath his feet and a blast set the building ablaze, sending Steve hurtling backwards and into the windshield of a nearby Volvo.

“No,” he gasped, pushing himself up and speeding towards the apartments. He flung himself up the fire escape a floor at a time, searching the windows for any signs of survivors. A broken window and a giant hole in the floor of a third story apartment caught his eye, and he leapt through the window and into the apartment.

Taking in the sight around him, tears welled in his eyes. The outside structure of the building had deceived him – what remained of the brick exterior was just a mirage of what lay inside: nothing. The entire center of the building was gone, reduced to rubble on the first floor. A bed lay in pieces in the corner, and from what he could tell, it belonged to a young girl judging by the light pink covers peeking through the smoke. He could see the broken remains of the families that once lived here, protruding out of the pile of ashes and dust. All hope of finding any survivors was now lost.

A sharp squeal startled him, and he circled the room, looking and listening for the source of the sound.

“Help!”

There it was again. He’d caught it this time, pinpointing the source of the sound to the room next to the one he was currently in. He slammed his body against the door next to him, and hard. The door broke loose from its frame and tumbled into the adjoining room, breaking what remained of the floor and falling down into the abyss below.

Steve stepped gently around the hole that remained, the floor boards creaking dangerously beneath him. As he looked around the room, he became very aware of the source of the sound.

A young girl, whom Steve gathered to be around 10, stood pressed up against the wall at the corner of the room. The window was to her left, but the hole in the floor reached all the way to the exterior wall, preventing her from using the window as an escape route.

But that wasn’t the only thing that caught Steve’s eye.

The girl was surrounded by a force field of what could only be described as lightning. A broken, mutilated body of the offending Chitauri soldier who had caused the blast lay crumpled at her feet. The lightning pulsed around her, protecting her from anything that might harm her. As pieces of the crumbling roof began to collapse around them, they failed to break through the force field. Steve’s eyes widened as he took in the situation – the girl was standing in the corner of the room, on the only remaining piece of steady flooring left.

“Help me, please,” she pleaded, finally meeting Steve’s eyes.

Oh.

Oh, how she looked like her.

With tumbling chocolate hair and rosy cheeks, she was the spitting image of a young Peggy Carter. Sharon had shown Steve pictures of Peggy when she was a little girl, and this girl looked like she had sprung from the pictures into their time. The only difference separating them were the girl’s eyes, which shone a bright blue.

Steve had to get them out alive.

“Okay,” he answered, “I’m going to get you out of here and somewhere safe. But I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? This building is going to come down, and I need you to follow my instructions.”

The girl nodded. Steve had never been very adept around children, but his quick speech and his even faster thinking skills seemed to do the trick.

He gingerly made his way to where the girl was standing. “Grab on to me, and hold on tight. We’re going to get out of here.”

The girl retracted her force field and wound her arms around Steve’s neck, pressing herself flat against his back. He made his way back the way he came, all the while the building shuddering around them. The girl squealed as a piece of rubble almost came down on them, knocking another hole through the floor. But Steve kept his cool. He was the adult; he had to.

The pair reached the window where Steve had entered, and he helped the girl through onto the fire escape. She grasped at the metal bars like her life depended on it – which in reality, it did – and the few seconds she and Steve were separated felt like a lifetime. She watched with bated breath as he slipped through the window, the concrete exterior of the building starting to crack, and he heard her whimper as the fire escape began to tilt beneath them. As fast as he could, he grabbed her by the arms and flung her onto his back and began the climb down.

Fate was cruel to him that day. As soon as his feet touched the ladder, the metal began to pitch back and forth as if in a tornado. Steve groaned with effort, his able body keeping them on the ladder, but the girl wasted no time in clamping her eyes shut, small squeals leaving her lips as she was flung back and forth.

“Hold on,” he yelled, picking up his pace. The girl clutched at the straps of his uniform, winding her legs around his waist and hooking them together at the ankles. Just as the building finally collapsed, Steve reached the ground, and began to remove the girl off his back.

But she wouldn’t let go. She stayed wound tightly around him, shaking with tears.

“My parents,” she sobbed, “They fell through when the blast hit. And then one of them flew up with a gun at me, and I don’t know, everything just kind of happened. One minute he was going to pull the trigger and the next he was on the floor.”

Steve’s heart broke for her. This was her first ever interaction with her powers, and she’d just lost her parents. He didn’t think there could be a worse way to find out a person had special abilities.

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, walking back down the street where he came from. Broken remains of alien solders and the harsh, blinding metal of cars greeted them as they walked, and the girl kept her head tucked safely between Steve’s shoulder blades until they’d reached the safety of the Quinn Jet. He set her down gently on the ground, and she shrunk in on herself, curling into a ball and resting her head on her knees. Steve grabbed one of the blankets from a storage compartment behind him and draped it over her shoulders. He wrapped her up tightly, making sure she was fully covered up and warm, before she finally found the courage to look up at him.

What greeted her was Steve’s warm smile, and bright blue eyes to match. Comfort washed over her like waves crashing on to a beach, and the tears she’d been crying at the loss of her parents suddenly turned cool.

“You’re safe now. You don’t ever have to be afraid again.”

From that moment on, Charlotte Anderson, or Charlie as they called her, was Steve Rogers’ own personal responsibility. He brought her back to the Avengers Tower with them, and told her that this would be her new home. Of course, the team was completely behind it all, with the exception of Clint.

“Steve, you have no idea how to raise a kid. Hell, the last time Nat gave you a plant you killed it!” Clint almost shouted when he first learned of the situation.

“I can’t just leave her out there, Clint,” Steve responded, clutching the girl’s hand. “She had no idea she even had powers up until this point. She belongs with us, with people who can understand her.”

Clint sighed, looking down at Charlie with soft eyes. He thought about Laura then, about how they’d been trying for what felt like years before they finally had Cooper a few months ago. His throat clenched at the thought of someone leaving Cooper behind if they weren’t around, and he suddenly went soft. How could they abandon her?

He heaved a deep sigh, and looked into Steve’s eyes. What had been soft mere moments prior suddenly became ice cold as he looked at the taller man, and Clint jabbed a pointed finger at Steve’s chest.

“Fine. But if anything ever happens to her, I will murder you.”

And with that, Charlie became an honorary Avenger. When Thor returned from his adventures on Asgard, he helped her train with her powers. He taught her how to understand lightning and electricity, and how to control it. Tony built her a suit of smooth, deep blue woven fibers. The suit glowed with electricity when she activated her powers, and allowed her to move quickly and nimbly. It was, of course, designed to withstand up to Thor’s level of wattage, which in testing had failed many times. But once Tony got the calibrations just right, Charlie and Thor were able to charge each other’s powers. Thor could send a blast of thunder and lightning her way, and her suit would absorb it and redirect the energy back out through her palms. When she laid her hands on Thor’s shoulders, lightning would pulse from Mjolnir, and Thor would go rocketing up into the air, storm clouds building in the sky around them.

Things weren’t always easy. Charlie often had nightmares, and would wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, screaming. It felt as if she had been falling through the hole in the floor that had claimed her parents’ lives mere months prior. Steve was always by her side, comforting her through the nightmares. He’d cradle her, and recount how he’d lost his family trying to save the rest of the world – trying to save his home. He’d even lost the person he loved most in the world, only to wake up 70 years later without a clue as to what was going on.

He was Charlie’s rock. When things seemed darkest, when it felt like her world was crumbling to the ground just like her building, Steve would grab on to her and hold her tightly to his chest. He gave her something to clutch onto, a warm and safe haven that she could rely on. The Avengers very quickly became her family, and she became like a daughter to all of them. And it wasn’t very long before the tower began to feel like her home.

When Steve and Tony had their falling out several years later, it sent Charlie to pieces. Steve left and he didn’t come back. At first, she thought he was dead. She wouldn’t come out of her room at the new Avengers compound for days, and even Happy failed to convince her to eat. But then Pepper and Tony had sat her down and explained everything as best they could, without placing any of the blame on Steve. He was just trying to protect his best friend.

But Charlie was nonetheless upset. Now who would she go to? Clint was under house arrest; Natasha had clearly chosen her side. Even Wanda was off God-knows-where with Vision.

That was when Pepper and Tony had offered them to be her new home. She could stay in the compound, where she was comfortable now. They would even be like a real family – Tony promised he’d sit at the table and have dinner with them at least once a week.

How could Charlie say no?

She had no idea where Steve was, and as much as she missed him to bits, she was tired of being shuffled from home to home without any real explanation, without any choice. She really liked Pepper’s company – Pepper was the closest thing she could ever come to having a mother again. She’d followed Steve wherever he went, but now she was 15. And Pepper and Tony hadn’t made any decisions for her. They’d given her the option, and she’d made her choice.

And then came Peter Parker.

Peter was always ruining everything.

Tony had brought him up to the compound to train over the summer, as Tony was constantly developing new web shooters to build into his suit. He’d even let Charlie help with some of the combinations. She’d never actually met Spider-Man, but Tony had told her plenty about him. Tony beamed when he talked about the kid, like he did when he talked to Pepper about Charlie. It was clear that Peter was like the son that Tony never had.

The day Peter arrived to the compound, he practically sprinted into the building. He’d been to summer camp before, but this was superhero summer camp – way better than the robotics camp he had been to in the city. He was moving so fast that he wasn’t at all looking where he was going, and suddenly Peter and Charlie quite literally crashed into each other, Charlie’s treasured stack of books tumbling out of her arms and sprawling onto the floor.

“Ohmygosh, I am so sorry!” Peter stumbled out, “I-I didn’t see you and – shit – oh my god, your books are everywhere, I am so so sorry.”

Charlie was already in a grumpy mood, and now her favorite books were scattered down the marble hallway, their pages bent out of place. “You said that already,” she muttered, bending over to begin collecting them.

“Here, let me get those,” Peter sputtered, hurtling down the hallway and fetching each book off the floor, straightening out the pages as he went. Charlie stood awkwardly watching as he picked them up off the floor, failing to not notice his chocolate brown curls constantly falling in front of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Peter said again, gently laying the stack of books in Charlie’s waiting arms. “I’m Peter, by the way, Peter Parker.”

Charlie didn’t even realize they hadn’t connected eyes yet until they finally did. It felt like the universe melted around them, Charlie melting with it until she was reduced to a puddle on the floor. Peter’s eyes glinted in the sunlight, reflecting deep rings of coffee and flecks of gold.

Charlie coughed, realizing she’d been staring for way too long. (But Peter had been staring too). “I’m Charlie.”

“Hi,” Peter breathed, half gasping, “I’m Spider-Man, if we’re using our made-up names.”

Charlie chuckled, and Peter swore his heart seeped down into his toes at the sound. “Hi, Spider-Man. Welcome to the team. I’ll see you around, okay? Try not to break anything else.” She turned away smiling, while a bright pink blush crept up Peter’s cheeks.

“Yeah,” Peter muttered, half under his breath, “Yeah, okay,” as he watched Charlie walk away. He still felt like he couldn’t quite get enough oxygen, despite exhaling heavily once Charlie turned the corner.

Peter had never met anyone in the whole world like her. She may have looked like Peggy when she was younger, but as her powers had developed, and as she’d started to mature, her looks had changed. Her hair was now a dark ebony, and in the right light it almost looked blue. But her eyes were really what held Peter up. They were a crisp, bright blue, and if she turned her head the right way, they looked like actual lightning, like if Charlie had looked at someone hard enough, they’d get electrocuted.

Peter didn’t train very well that day, and neither did Charlie. Immediately, they felt different then before they had met, but neither of them could explain the feeling. But Charlie knew somehow that Peter Parker was going to be a very big problem.

Taglist: @parrkerspeters @starksparker @madmadmilk @gottaletgopete @hollandroos @parkerpuffwrites @dontmindthefangirling @sunshinehollandd @hollandsosterfield @sakaariians @aestheticgaybish @eeyore101247 @underoossss @bringmethehorizonandpizza @robbmestarklord @tomthwips @noswagswag @-thatgirloverthere- @thefallenbibliophilequote @marvellousparkerpeter @rosiemarie

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queenofcats17 · 5 years

Note

Yes it's for hell's studio, sorry! - anon that sent the Edgar ask

Thank you for clarifying. This’ll be fun!

Also, I’m sorry this took so long

—————————————————————

Joey hadn’t yet gotten around to summoning the Butcher Gang. Mostly because Bendy was afraid of the havoc that would be caused if he did. The Butcher Gang were evil with a small ‘e’, but they were still troublemakers. Granted, so was he, but he had a studio to run! He couldn’t have them running around and mucking things up! But Bendy’s dissuasion hadn’t stopped Joey from planning to bring the Butcher Gang to life all the same.

He wasn’t going to start with Barley or Charley, though. They were the ringleaders of the operation and had the brains to execute any dastardly plan. Better to have Edgar be the first. Edgar was the baby of the Butcher Gang, and thus the least likely to cause trouble. He was basically a little kid at the end of the day. Still, out of respect for Bendy, Joey held off on the actually summoning. Because Bendy had a point. They were all very busy and couldn’t afford another one of Joey’s summonings.

He couldn’t stop himself from practicing, though. He wanted to be able to do it right when he finally performed the summoning. He didn’t want any pipes to break or people to be turned into ink creatures. He felt pretty bad about how many times he’d gotten his employees turned into weird creatures. He knew it was a rather traumatic experience. He didn’t want to be responsible for causing his employees trauma. He didn’t want to be one of those Joey’s.

That was beside the point, though. The point was, he wasn’t planning on doing any impromptu summonings until he was sure they could handle it. But, as was the prevailing law when it came to Joey, if something could go wrong it would go wrong. Which was how Edgar ended up getting accidentally summoned ahead of schedule.

Joey had been practicing the summoning when Bendy had burst in to make sure he was doing his paperwork. Joey let out a shriek, startled by the sudden slamming of the door, stabbing the ritual knife into the palm of his hand. The candles that he’d set up (he hadn’t even lit them because it was just a practice round) flared to life and the circle began to glow.

“Joey, what the Hell?!” Bendy yelled.

“I was just practicing!” Joey yelled back, scrambling for a handkerchief to staunch the bleeding. “You startled me!”

Bendy was about to scold him further, but his attention was drawn to the circle in the middle of the room. It had begun to glow, a shape taking form from the bowl of ink that Joey had set out. Then, abruptly, the bowl exploded. Both Joey and Bendy were thrown back by the force of the explosion. When they opened their eyes, there he was. Edgar the spider.

Edgar sat in the middle of the circle, looking curiously around. He was almost entirely on model, although two of his legs were a bit too high on his torso. This was fixed when he stood up, cementing them as legs rather than arms.

“Hi, Bendy!” He chirped, waving to the little demon when he spotted him. “You look different.”

“I…Yeah, I guess I do.” Bendy laughed weakly. “Stuff…happened.”

“Okay!” Edgar gave him a big smile. “Oh, are Barley and Charley here? They get really mad when I wander off, so I should probably go find them.”

“They’re, uh, they’re not here,” Bendy said. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Not here?” Edgar frowned. He looked around again, finally noticing Joey.

“You’re bleeding.” He announced, pointing to Joey’s hand.

“I am, yes.” Joey smiled nervously.

“Who is he?” Edgar looked back at Bendy. “Why’s he bleeding? Where’re Charley and Barley?”

“It’s kinda a long story.” Bendy sighed.

It took a little bit to explain the whole situation to Edgar, especially since the spider kept interrupting with questions, but he took it surprisingly well. He was rather excited to be able to explore this new world without Charley and Barley to boss him around. (Although he did want them to show up eventually because they were basically his family.)

“You can explore, but everybody’s real busy so you can’t bother them,” Bendy told him. “I can show you around later after I talk with Joey here.” He jerked his thumb back at Joey.

“Okay!” Edgar replied. He hadn’t really been listening, continually glancing back at the door leading out into the studio. Bendy groaned, mostly because he knew the look on Edgar’s face. He hardly wanted to admit it, but Edgar reminded him of himself. He was sure the little spider would cause some kind of trouble while left unsupervised.

“Just don’t break too much stuff, okay?” Bendy patted Edgar’s head and drew away. Edgar lit up, darting out the door to explore the studio.

It didn’t take long for him to start causing trouble. He found his way down to the Heavenly Toys area and started to pester Shawn. At this point, Shawn was pretty used to weird stuff going down, so he didn’t bat an eye at the appearance of Edgar. What he did mind was Edgar getting in the way while he was trying to work.

“Hey! Put that down!” He sprung to his feet, dragging Edgar off the shelf where he was picking up half-finished plushes.

“Did you make these?” Edgar asked, trying to clamber free of Shawn’s grip. “They’re really good!”

“Yeah, thanks.” Shawn let out a sharp gasp as one of Edgar’s legs hit him in the stomach. “But they’re not finished, so I don’t want you touching them.”

“But they’re so good! I wanna see ‘em!” Edgar protested.

“Here, take this.” Shawn put him on the ground, handing him a finished plush.

Edgar’s eyes widened. “This is me!”

“Yeah, it is.” Shawn couldn’t help but grin at Edgar’s enthusiasm. It was always nice to have his work appreciated, especially by kids, since they were the target audience.

“D’ya have any ones of Barley and Charley?” Edgar asked, clutching the plush of himself to his chest.

“I think I’ve got some finished ones around here somewhere.” Shawn moved to look, then stopped. “Wait, no, I gotta keep working.”

“Aw…” Edgar’s face fell.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Shawn patted his head. “We’re on a deadline. Bendy’ll have my head if I don’t meet my quota.” He was exaggerating a bit. Bendy would be upset, certainly, but he wouldn’t have Shawn’s head.

“Bendy? Have your head?” Edgar giggled. “He’s not that scary.”

“He can be.” Shawn set his face in mock seriousness. “So I gotta get this done.”

“Okay.” Edgar shrugged and moved on, already bored with this area since he couldn’t touch the toys.

He ended up briefly in the Bendyland warehouse but Lacie was quick to usher him out. She knew exactly the kind of damage a child with six arms could do and she did not particularly want to deal with that right now. Edgar was a bit frustrated by this. There were so many games! He wanted to play them! Lacie had been very nice, though.

Edgar wandered out of that area and over to where Grant’s office was. It was the only other room on that floor other than the Archives. Edgar wasn’t really interested in the Archives at the moment. The people who were there all looked pretty stressed and he didn’t want to bother them. So, he went to the office of Grant Cohen.

“Hello?” He opened the door and poked his head in. Grant looked away from the paperwork he’d been doing, his eyes catching Edgar in the doorway. His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open.

“Wha-?” He whispered.

“Hi!” Edgar smiled brightly and waved.

“How did…?” Grant stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and snapping back to reality. “Why are you here?”

“Bendy said I could look around,” Edgar replied, rocking back and forth. It was almost like an idle animation.

“Joey summoned you, then.” Grant bit back a groan.

“That’s what Bendy said.” Edgar nodded. “Can I watch you work? I’m bored.” Grant wanted to immediately say no, to tell him to go away. He didn’t like spiders. Spiders had fangs and venom and were dangerous. But Edgar looked so cute…

“Well….Alright.” He pulled his chair back a bit, patting his lap.

“Yay! Thank you!” Edgar beamed, clambering into Grant’s lap. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Taxes. I’m afraid they’re pretty boring.” Grant smiled apologetically down at the little spider.

“Okay.” Edgar shrugged, contenting himself with playing with his toy. He really was rather adorable. Grant allowed himself a small smile. At least no one was messing with his papers this time.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #hell's studio au #joey drew #bendy the dancing demon #edgar #edgar the spider #edgar batim #grant cohen #shawn flynn

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raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

Sheriff, Hood and Maid

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Quentin Lance, Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, John Diggle Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (Hinted/Unresolved) Summary: Long before the Hood arrives in Starling City, Detective Lance relaxes his loyalty to the law. His daughter must take on a double life of her own to redeem her family legacy. / AU What-If of Season 1 *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

It had been a moment of weakness. After losing Sara, seeing the bodies of all those young girls pile up one after the other, with stiff limbs and sightless eyes, it was too much. He’d have done anything to make it stop, to catch Mathis.

Anything, as it turned out, had meant selling his soul.

He’d received a call tipping him off to a location Mathis was supposedly using to conduct his sick experiments. When he’d arrived, there was no Mathis and no equipment. Just a mid-ranking member of one of the local cartels.

Quentin had been angered and then infuriated when the thug had proposed his deal. Immunity for him and his side in exchange for information. He had stormed out of that warehouse and not looked back.

Then another girl had turned up dead. And another. Before he could think it through too many times, he was dialing the number that had called in the fake tip.

What else could he have done? It wasn’t like people weren’t going to buy the drugs anyway if he refused to play ball with the cartel. He’d gotten a location and led a raid to catch the Dollmaker in the act. A serial killer behind bars.

“Just remember the favor you owe us, Detective,” he’d been warned. “Or your pretty daughter with the fancy new law degree is gonna wish it was Mathis that got to her.”

Okay, so one cartel was going to walk the streets knowing he’d look the other way. So what? They didn’t have the manpower to bring them all in.

The funny thing was, once one deal was made, it didn’t seem so bad to make more. It was like they could sniff him out all of a sudden. Maybe there was talk. He didn’t know.

Quentin found himself with a lot more convictions under his belt and a lot more friends in low places. His tab was always paid at his favorite bar before he even made it there after a shift. It wasn’t like he was letting all the criminals walk. There were still bad people getting put away.

How was it any different than Nudocerdo hobnobbing with the big wigs in their ivory towers? How was it any different than Moira Queen or Malcolm Merlyn paying all the right people to get their kids off the hook for crimes they ought to be serving sentences for?

Whenever he happened to be in a charitable mood, which he rarely was, Quentin could admit it wasn’t very different to all the wheeling and dealing he’d done behind the scenes to keep Sara’s record clean.

If he had one saving grace, it was Laurel. She alone was untouched by all the dirt and corruption their city was swimming in. He was prouder than he could say, and it burned at him more than he could stand sometimes the way she would remind him of all the things he had once taught her about the law and doing what was right. He snapped at her more than was warranted for it, and he knew she just couldn’t understand.

He never wanted her to. If she ever knew…

But it was pointless to even worry about that. The associates he’d acquired over the last few years would ensure he was never ousted, so long as he kept up his end of the deals he’d made. And he would, for her sake. This city was rotten to the core, and if all he could do was save one person from it, it damned well wouldn’t be the rich elites who could bribe their way through anything or the teens with rap sheets already a mile long. It would be his own flesh and blood, all he had left of it in the world.

With enough drink in him, most nights he went to bed with a muddied conscience. But it was enough to let him sleep.

---

Laurel had had a bad feeling for a long time. Various bad feelings, she supposed, but it was hard not to when her sister and boyfriend died while screwing each other, her mother left and her father fell into drinking. There weren’t many good feelings left in the wake of all that.

But this specific one had more to do with her work. Ever since she had started at CNRI, things had felt a little… off.

At first she hadn’t noticed, too caught up in the high of winning her first official case, saving a man’s son from prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Other little victories here and there.

But then, every time she tried going up against something big, the systemic forces truly plaguing their city, roadblocks constantly sprung up in her path. A judge threw the case out, witnesses disappeared, evidence went missing from the police lockers and, lately, her boss had been getting very particular about handing out or approving assignments.

If she’d talked to her father about it once, she must have talked to him about it a million times. He’d been a sympathetic ear at first, promising to keep an eye on things at the precinct, but as time wore on he did little more than sigh and tell her that she couldn’t expect to change the world overnight. Joanna did him one better and suggested Laurel do something with all that pent-up frustration, which had led Laurel to seeking out boxing lessons at a gym not too far from their office.

While letting her anger out through her fists did wonders for her emotional self-control, it did little to fix the rest of her problems. Laurel’s mind chased itself around in circles night after night, wondering just where the trouble was starting from. Was there some kind of leak between their office and the DA’s? Was it Kate Spencer herself? Or was she being spied on?

Laurel started meeting her clients outside of the office and off the books. For a while, it seemed to help as she was happy to note to her dad. But gradually, whatever force was conspiring against her seemed to catch up to her new methods. It didn’t matter if she worked with Joanna or alone, if she wrote her files in plain English or in the secret code she and Sara had developed during a particularly boring winter filled with school cancellations due to the wind chill, making playing outside impossible. She was reaching her wit’s end with this enemy who seemed to know her as well as she knew herself.

Just as she was starting to wonder if everything was hopeless, an unexpected ally of sorts emerged from seemingly nowhere: an archer dressed in green. He’d appeared on the scene as suddenly as Oliver had stepped back into her life after five years of him being presumed dead, taking in Adam Hunt and his security team before Laurel was slated to lose her case against him thanks to a bought Judge Grell. Then again, he took on Martin Sommers and the Triad after they attacked her home while Oliver was visiting.

It was exhilarating seeing someone finally stand up to the untouchable in this city. She couldn’t help to wonder why no one had thought to do it before, couldn’t help but feel inspired...

Laurel kept these thoughts to herself while staying at her father’s that night. The police were still processing the crime scene that her apartment had become the other night thanks to the home invasion that she suspected was meant to have been an assassination if she hadn’t been able to take down one of their attackers and Mr. Diggle hadn’t shown up to confront China White. The bodyguard himself might have been killed had Oliver not been extremely lucky with his knife throw. She supposed he must have gotten very good at that sort of thing while hunting for food on the island.

Laurel’s dreams of a figure moving through thick, green overgrowth stalking the Fortune 500 were interrupted by the low snarl of her dad’s voice. Laurel startled awake, looking around in confusion.

“...don’t care that he got away. Sommers overreached, and that’s his and your problem, not mine!”

Light shone through the cracks around the bedroom door. He was still awake? Laurel slid off the mattress as quietly as she could, sneaking in her socks to the door. She opened it a centimeter and peered down the hall.

Her father was pacing back and forth, crossing in and out of view as he spoke into a phone. “My daughter comes first. The minute you agreed to his contract, that’s the minute you turned your back on me. I wasn’t gonna do a damned thing to save that bottom-feeder from some vigilante.”

Laurel’s mind raced. If this was about Sommers, and her father was talking to a person who had accepted a contract that had to do with her…

“Yeah, I know. I know what you have on me. I’d rather we continue on business as usual, too, but we can’t do that unless I have your word that the next time Laurel is in your sights, you let me handle it. Alright? She’s my responsibility, not yours. And you can tell that to China White herself.”

China White. The Triad. Her father was on the phone with the Triad.

She watched him hang up and rub a hand across his forehead. “Should’ve just let her go to San Francisco…” he muttered under his breath.

She couldn’t keep watching. Laurel shook her head and backed up into a dresser with a muffled bang, too loud for him not to have heard. “Shit,” she whispered.

Sure enough, she heard his shoes coming down the hall. Rather than comforting, they sounded loud and heavy and like a threat. What did she do? What did she say?

The door opened before she could make up her mind to flee, and Laurel looked up at her father.

“Honey?” He asked, sounding just as concerned as always. His gun rested on his belt.

She had to play this off. She couldn’t risk him finding out she knew. She couldn’t trust he wouldn’t hurt her — she didn’t know who this man was anymore.

“Uh, sorry. I was getting up to use the bathroom, and I couldn’t see where I was going in the dark,” she explained, hoping the strain in her voice could be attributed to the pain from hitting the furniture.

He nodded. “Okay. Lamp’s on the table there for it you need it.”

“Uh-huh. Are you going out?”

He looked down at himself. “No. I just, uh, was finishing up some work at the table. I’ll get to sleep soon, promise.”

Laurel forced a smile that was more a nervous twitch of the lips as she slowly moved past him into the hall, shutting herself in the bathroom. She let out a breath then drew it back in, forcing herself to focus on that and prevent herself from hyperventilating.

Her father was a dirty cop. How long had he been? Since she got her degree? Since the Gambit sunk? Since always?

He was the source of the leak. For three years, she’d been watching herself and who she spoke to, dedicated herself to nothing but work — and the one person she had felt safe in confiding to, the one person she’d thought understood her relentless pursuit of justice, had betrayed her.

She sat on the lid of the toilet and willed the tears that wanted to spill from her eyes back. There wasn’t time to feel sorry for herself. She’d unknowingly been helping the other side by giving them ready access to information. What was she going to do now?

The first thing was stop talking to her dad about her cases and make sure to lock up her notes even in the safety of her home. And then… what? That didn’t feel like enough.

What could she do to help the people who had suffered for her ignorance? The people who would continue to suffer thanks to this corrupt bargain her father had made? Or even, maybe, possibly, her father himself?

Was he just doing this to protect her? Maybe someone had made threats. Maybe he thought it was the only way. They were both semi-public figures. It wouldn’t have been hard at all for organized crime to make the connection between them and decide to exploit it.

If she could figure out how deep this went, how far this web of alliances stretched, maybe she could free him from it.

But she couldn’t do it as herself. It was clear that either her father would be forced to stop her or the Triad and whoever else would take matters into their own hands, and she didn’t want to test her luck a second time. Prosecuting them publicly would mean damning her father, too, and despite everything she had just learned, she didn’t know if she was prepared to do that.

She had to work independently of the law. Any misgivings she might have felt about that a month ago melted away now that she knew her father had abandoned his own credo a long time ago. This wasn’t some idealized mock trial in school. This was reality. And there was someone out there already proving that the only way to get justice in this city was to get it yourself.

Laurel stood and flushed the toilet to sell her story, washing her hands in the sink as she stared herself down in the mirror. Her eyes were dry and determined.

She would do what needed to be done.

---

Oliver was at a crossroads in many ways. Diggle was on the fence about joining him. Lance was hot on the trail of evidence he’d planted to set himself up for exoneration. And he still didn’t know quite where he and Laurel stood since his return in both of his personas.

He knew as Oliver he was making things difficult, wanting to atone for his actions yet also wanting her safe. He couldn’t be the man she saw in him in his public life because he was needed as the Hood. And while she seemed far more receptive to the Hood, his first encounter with her had proven… odd.

“How do you decide?” She’d asked him unexpectedly in the dark of her apartment. The little light come through the windows made her eyes look overbright and earnest. “Who gets hospitalized and who lands in the morgue?”

“It’s not a decision,” he answered eventually. “Not a conscious one. This city is in a fight for its life. In those kinds of struggles…” He had found himself struggling then to articulate what it was to be driven by the need for survival in the heat of battle, how everything else faded away.

But Laurel had nodded as if she understood. “Then it’s not a question of targeting.”

“Is there someone you wanted targeted?”

To his surprise, she did not dismiss the question, but rather hesitated. “I don’t have everything I need yet. And you’re right that Declan’s case can’t wait if he really is as innocent as you think.”

He’d let the subject drop, and there had been no time to address it in any of their subsequent meetings. Certainly not at Iron Height, where she had pulled him out of the fog of battle through her touch and voice alone before he could make yet another kill. He didn’t know how to thank her for that. Especially when the next time he saw her, it was because she was representing him against her dad, and he couldn’t exactly thank her for something he wasn’t supposed to know about as Oliver Queen.

It helped that Laurel was convinced there was no way he was the Hood. At least, he thought she was convinced until the polygraph test. Until he revealed some of the truth about what had happened to him there. The look in her eyes… he had fled before she could ask him anything, back to the party he was having Tommy plan at the house.

Oliver walked around the main room, making sure he was very visible as Diggle prepared to head out in the Hood’s suit. While he didn’t exactly enjoy himself in this type of crowd anymore, he didn’t truly tense up until he noticed something.

Outside the glass doors to the patio, someone was watching.

The strobe lights from the party illuminated her for a moment — he thought it was a her, though he couldn’t make out her face beneath the dark shawl she wore over her head and wrapped around her shoulders. The patio went dark and then light again, and in that time she had turned her back as she dropped something in one of the potted plants.

Oliver sucked around people as he made his way to the patio and the far edge, but he could make out no one in the darkness of the grounds. None of the attendees seemed to have noticed anything, either, thought that likely was due to their inebriated states.

He went back to the plant and pulled out what she had left behind.

It was a manila envelope with a note scrawled on one side in almost exaggeratedly bad handwriting.

For the Hood, if you know him.

Oliver’s heart thudded in his chest. This woman had clearly decided to believe Lance, or at least believed he had some role in the Hood’s appearance in Starling.

Did he open it? Ignore it to avoid proving this woman’s suspicions? But then, what did she want?

Oliver took the envelope back to his room and opened it, spilling the contents onto his desk. Pictures printed on computer paper. Typed notes. It was rudimentary and low-budget, but he was looking at a dossier. A dossier on Nudocerdo, the Starling City Police Commissioner. From the looks of it, he was in far too many pockets to be doing anything good for the public.

Take him down without death and I’ll tell you everything, was written at the bottom of the final page.

Now he was truly at a crossroads. If he acted, this woman would clearly know he at the very least had a connection to the Hood. But just what was “everything”?

Oliver found himself attacked by a hitman before he could ponder that much further, and only the intervention of Detective Lance saved his life and his identity from being exposed, as much as the detective looked like he might be happy to shoot Oliver as well. Long after the party had been cleared out and his family had gone to sleep secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t a vigilante was Oliver able to discuss with Diggle the woman who seemed to think he might still be the vigilante.

“I think you were visited by the Maid.”

Oliver’s face scrunched up. “The who?”

Digg shrugged. “She showed up a couple weeks back. Folks in the Glades say they’ve spotted her trailing gangbangers and cops alike. And the rumor is she’s had to fight her way out of a situation or two. That’s part of what made me realize I needed to join this fight,” Diggle told him. Folks are getting restless, desperate. You’ve shown them a new way, and they just might take it.”

Oliver frowned. He hadn’t been trying to show anyone a new way. This was just the most effective way for him to complete his father’s mission. “Why ‘the Maid’?”

“You said she was wearing that shawl over her head? Hoodette didn’t catch on, so people started looking to your namesake: Robin Hood.”

It hit him a moment later. “Maid Marian.” His uneasiness grew. Oliver knew, of course, that the whole point of what he’d just done was that the Hood and Oliver Queen were separate identities. But he didn’t like the idea of being associated, and romantically at that, with another woman. Not when he was meant to be proving himself to Laurel. If she could only know.

Unless she did? Why exactly had she wanted to know how the Hood chose his targets and what happened to them? What had she meant by not having everything she needed yet? Was she gathering information? And if she was…

It was a theory. The same kind of theory that this woman was working off of regarding his own identity, but if he was right it changed everything.

If he was right, he needed to know what Laurel knew. And he had a feeling he’d only find that out once Nudocerdo was out of the picture.

---

Once again, he found himself at the bar and, once again, he found his tab was already covered. He wasn’t drinking anything strong, though. Not tonight. Not when he’d screwed up bad enough.

He’d been so sure it was Queen. Locking up the Hood would’ve helped smooth over the ruffled feathers caused by the vigilante’s interference in Hunt and Sommer’s operations. Would’ve made his job a heck of a lot easier. And would’ve gotten the bastard far and away from his daughter.

When he’d been sure of the archer’s identity, it had all made sense. Queen returned from that island and thought he could slide back into Laurel’s good graces by putting his thumb on the scales of justice, so to speak. That was clearly why Hunt and Sommers had been attacked coincidentally as Laurel was mounting cases against them, and she had been picked out of all the lawyers in the city to help him clear Peter Declan’s name. Only now, it apparently was a coincidence, and he didn’t know anything anymore.

The Hood needed to be caught. No matter what good other people thought he was doing, he was a menace that needed to be off the streets the same as any thug. Just because he was stealing money and giving it away didn’t make him better than the likes of a kid jacking a car for a joyride. It made him worse, because he was causing unrest with the criminal elements who, like it or not, were woven into the very fabric of Starling. Had been for longer than Quentin had wanted to admit before he’d finally given in.

A man in a fine suit took the barstool next to him. “Evening, Detective.”

Quentin blew out a breath. He was not in the mood for another deal right now, not when he was still on shaky ground with the Triad. “So, which boss do you work for?”

The man pursed his lips. “Hardly. My name is Carl Ballard.”

Ballard? One of the big-wigs? Quentin sat up a little straighter.

“What’s a guy with all the money and success in the world doing in a hole-in-the-wall like this?”

“I’m here on business. I assume you haven’t heard since you’re clearly off duty at the moment, but reports have come in that Commissioner Nudocerdo has been attacked in his home by the Hood.”

“That son of a bitch,” Quentin swore. It wasn’t enough that the guy had to prove his Queen theory wrong tonight, but he had to go after the police department?

“I agree,” Ballard said lightly. “And so do some associates of mine who were fond of Nudocerdo. Given his imminent fall from grace, we want to see that things keep running smoothly. That’s why I’m letting you know you have the full backing of Tempest to fill the position of Commissioner.”

He reeled back a little in shock. “Commissioner? Me?” His eyes narrowed. “Just what is Tempest?”

“A group of like-minded individuals who want the best for our families and our city, like yourself,” Ballard told him. “We all feel you would be the best candidate in these uncertain times. Your commitment to catching the vigilante is unmatched, and you understand the way this city works.”

He knew what that last part meant underneath. Business as usual. It was hardly what he would have envisioned all those years ago as a beat cop with his head full of ideas about changing things for the better. He’d forgotten about that dream a long time ago.

“Say I accept. What’s in it for me?”

“A number of powerful allies. More if you prove effective.”

“Effective at what?”

“Tempest wants to find out the source of the Hood’s information. What he’s basing his crusade off of and how he obtained it. These are things you have to be wondering, too.”

He had, and he’d thought for a worrying moment that it might be Laurel. For the first time tonight, he was glad he’d been wrong about his assumptions on Queen.

“I’ve been in the Glades recently working on a gentrification project, and my security tells me they’ve heard rumors of a spy. A woman. They’re calling her his Maid Marian. We’d like you to start there, tracking down this young Maid.”

An informant for the Hood? That was something solid, something real at last. What did he have to lose?

“I’ll get on it — or, guess I’ll put my best men on it, since your people want me in the Commissioner’s chair so badly.” Quentin stuck out his hand for Carl Ballard to shake.

It wasn’t the worst deal he’d made.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #quentin lance #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years

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Tiny Mer!Sanders Angst pt. 1

So, @secretglittersauce made this post talking about tiny saltwater mermen sanders sides being put in separate containers in a pet store. It’s absolutely adorable and heartbreaking and it inspired me to write this!

(I’ll link the original post in my reblog because tumblr = dumb with links)

It was hard to remember where it all went wrong. Patton had been swimming along with his brothers in the reef, patiently waiting for Virgil. The youngest had always had a bad fin.

Of course they heard the boat coming. From time to time a human vessel would disturb their waters, but the brothers knew what to do. They hid amongst the rocks, waiting for it to pass.

Except instead of passing the mermen by, the ship stopped. A toxic cloud was squirted into the water, causing Patton to gasp as his breath was forcibly taken away. He tried to escape, but everything around him suddenly seemed so blurry. What was happening? Where were his brothers?

Patton was forcibly yanked out of the water, one quick movement and the tiny merman was ripped from everything he had known. From there it was just a series of various cages, often kept in the dark as Patton shuddered in his corner. It was hard for Patton’s gills to work properly. Patton tried to call out to his brothers, but it seemed he was alone in his prison. He hugged his tailfin tightly to his chest, praying the others had escaped. Logan was smart, he could get away. Roman was fast, he’d outrun any human. But Virgil… well, Patton gulped, a fresh set of tears coming to his eyes as he realized the youngest merman had never really stood a chance.

Patton was torn. He wanted to see his brothers more than anything, hug them one last time. Why couldn’t he just be with them? At least if they were together, they could survive. That’s how they had always done things, ever since their parents were taken in a similar incident.

Patton gave a startled cry, shivering slightly as he was dumped into a new container.

“Whelp, last one.” Patton looked up, seeing the distorted human figure before him. He looked out through the glass, trying to figure out where the humans had taken him. There seemed to be rows upon rows of similar containers as far as the merman could see. Patton looked to his left and right, realizing he had a neighbor.

“Virgil!” Patton cried happily in his mermaid tongue, spotting his little brother. Quickly Patton swam over to him, only to be stopped as Patton ran into a very hard wall. He groaned, cradling his head slightly before patting at the glass.

Virgil swam up to the other side, his mouth moving as though he were trying to frantically speak, but Patton couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“Virgil, it’s alright.” Patton tried to press himself even closer, noticing how much his brother was panicking. “Virgil, please, it’s okay-”

It was no use. The more Patton tried to communicate, the more frightened Virgil seemed to get. Already the isolation was getting to him. Patton frowned, desperately looking around for any way to help.

A series of thuds shook Patton’s container. He glanced up, realizing it was a set of human footsteps. Patton’s eyes widened, getting an idea.

“EXCUSE ME!” Patton yelled as loud as his lungs could manage, waving his arms desperately to get the human’s attention. “PLEASE, HELP!”

“Look at this one, honey!” A human woman stopped, staring in at Patton. Patton froze briefly, before realizing this might be his only chance.

“You have to help me.” Patton pleaded, trying to gesture between his own cage and Virgil’s by swimming back and forth. “Please, there’s been a mistake, we need to be together.-”

“Aww, it’s like it’s trying to talk.” The woman cooed. Why couldn’t she understand how desperate this situation was?!

“Please, he’s my brother!” Patton insisted, getting as close as he dared to the human’s face. “Don’t do this! He needs me!”

“C’mon, Harley.” The human male next to her pulled at her arm, tugging Patton’s chance away.

“NO!” Patton chirped desperately, swimming around frantically in little circles. “No no no no no-”

“Oh, alright Brian.” She wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore. All she did was give Patton a condescending smile. “Bye, cutie.” She tapped harshly on the glass as if to say farewell, but all this did was produce a booming sensation that shook Patton to his core. Patton let out a small screech, desperately clamping his hands to his ears.

By the time the pounding in his head stopped, Patton opened his eyes to see both humans had left. Looking across the aisle, Patton’s eyes widened as he saw another familiar face.

“Roman!” Patton called out, hitting his palms against the glass to try and get his brother’s attention. “Roman, over here!” But Roman seemed preoccupied with his own escape tactic. The red and gold merman was ramming into the wall relentlessly, as if trying to break the glass with his shoulder alone.

Patton’s eyes wandered over to the cage next to Roman. “Logan!” It seemed both his older brothers hadn’t escaped after all. Logan also didn’t see his frantic hand waving. Instead, the dark blue colored merman was busy ripping apart his enclosure to shreds. Every so often a piece was tossed out entirely, splashing water down onto the floor far below.

It wasn’t long before the first human returned, muttering about ruined Starbucks breaks as he mopped up Logan’s mess. With a heavy thud, a cover was placed over the top of Logan’s cage. The dark blue merman winced, as did Patton in sympathy. Even though there was several feet of open air between them, Patton couldn’t fight the rising urge to go and comfort his brother.

A loud splashing noise caught Patton’s attention. He looked over in Virgil’s direction again, eyes widening when he saw what the youngest was attempting to do.

“VIRGIL!” Patton rushed back over to that side of the glass, chattering at about 100 words a second. “VirgilWhatAreYouThinkingOhPosideonGetBackInTheWater-”

For indeed, Virgil was currently caught up on the lip of the cage after having launched himself out of the water. Virgil looked over at Patton, eyes wide with both determination and fear as he seemed to be prepping himself to try and jump further. Patton frantically shook his head, desperately trying to communicate for Virgil not to do it.

Of course, Virgil still couldn’t hear him. Virgil pushed himself fully out of the water, but failed to make it the remaining distance into Patton’s cage. Instead Virgil fell to the hard surface below with a thud, already panting slightly from the lack of water.

“Virgil!” Patton swam desperately back and forth in front of him, tail twitching nervously as he watched Virgil gasp for breath. Roman and Logan seemed to have taken note as well, both of their cries muffled by glass. Tears sprung to Patton’s eyes. “Virgil, please, no, don’t do this, we can’t lose you!”

“Hey!” The human seemed to have finally noticed the commotion, coming over and directly grabbing Virgil up in his huge hands. “Gurl, what are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” A second later Virgil was dropped back into his own container. The youngest merman sat at the bottom of the tank, panting as he filled his gills with saltwater again.

Patton almost felt relieved when he watched the human put a roof on Virgil’s container, not wanting to sit back and watch his little brother get killed. In fact, the human put a roof on all of their containers for good measure. It seemed the human was done taking chances.

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dndeviants · 5 years

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The Druid Problem

The mists surrounded the nightmares as the party rode through the Border Ethereal. The world of Barovia appeared as only ghostly echoes of itself... the trees were frosty pale, the land was a drowned blue... the night sky was black and starless...

At Ruki’s command, the nightmares returned to Barovia proper and landed at the outskirts of a great vineyard.

A light drizzle began to fall. Unpainted fences blindly followed a northward trail, which skirted the edge of the sprawling vineyard. In the middle of it all was a stately building, fog swirling around its eastern side. Scattered about were rope-handled half-barrels used for hauling grapes.

At the edge of the property, there was a man wearing a dark cloak and cowl, hunched over at the treeline.

Linda felt unease. She looked to the fog beyond and swore that she saw ghostly images there. She collected herself and dismounted the nightmare. Everyone followed her lead and approached the cloaked man.

They walked through the mud toward the man. Strahd shifted his tiny bat form and scurried into Ruki’s pack to hide himself.

The man was not alone. Others appeared to be hiding in the woods near him. Three men, a woman... four children...

What has happened here? thought Aric.

The cloaked man became aware of their approach and drew back his cowl to look upon them. His face was weathered with age and tiredness, and his hair was gray and wiry. His beard was trimmed close to his face.

He spoke in a gruff voice, "Sorry kids. Winery's closed. Semi-permanently."

Linda blinked in confusion, “I’m not a child.”

The old man squinted at her and huffed, "Heh? Yer not? Well it don't matter. If yer lookin' for free samples or for any deliveries- gotta break it to ya- We're closed. Unless you can help us with our lil'... ahem-” he coughed, “... druid problem."

"Druid problem?" Linda echoed questioningly.

Jeeves and Aric exchanged glances. Ruki raised a brow.

The old man nodded, "Yes'm. Druids. Damn hillbillies came in and made a wreck of the place!”

He gestured angrily, “Now, I can't pick my grapes, can't run my mill, can't make my bottles, can't make my labels... and can't tend my wines. Bastards don't seem to be leavin' any time soon either."

He huffed, "We've just been campin' in the meanwhile. I ain't gon' to Vallaki. And I ain't gon' to Krezk."

Linda looked to the rest of her teammates and looked back to the curmudgeon, "I guess we can help with that. Urwin sent us to see what was happening since he hadn't heard from you."

The man stamped his cane into the ground, "Urwin?! Urwin?! My good for nothin', lazy, shirkin' son Urwin? Who got his father into this mess to begin with? HAH! That's a laugh right there!"

He cackled and stamped his cane in the ground, twisting it. One of the children began to cry.

The old man steadied himself and faced them, sternly, "Alright. You help us with the damn hillbillies. And I'll let ya know... to let Urwin know... how his family he abandoned is."

Linda looked to Aric, unsure of how to handle the old man.

Aric simply bowed his head in a polite manner, "That sounds reasonable, any idea how many druids there are?"

"Four," he replied, but held up a pointer finger, "But just 'cause there ain't a lot, don't mean nothin'. Those druids are crafty. Got their nature magics."

The man wiggled his fingers to accentuate the fact.

Linda turned to the vineyard, shaking her head, "Let's get to it then."

Linda stepped forth cautiously, trudging down the muddy path toward the stately building. Her party followed behind her in the same manner.

Rain began to pour more heavily, beating down on the ground and splashing mud on their boots... but the mist did not dissipate. It was ever present, no matter what, it seemed.

They came closer to the building... It was old, and made of stone, with several piles of vines laying about the house...

There was a noise in the fog. Aric turned to face it, ready for attack, but was stunned to see a Calishite man of middle age, well-groomed, wearing the red royal trappings, the marks of a general...

Father?

There was no doubting that it was Prince Zasheir. He stared at Aric, disapprovingly, speaking in a harsh, but detached voice, "You had so much potential... you cannot recover from this disgrace. As you know, my favor, once lost... is lost forever..."

Aric blinked. When he opened his eyes, the image was gone. A hallucination? Or an illusion? He looked to Jeeves, but Jeeves didn’t seem to react.

Linda heard the noise as well, and drew her revolver to prep. She leveled it at the fog, but when the mists parted, she nearly dropped her weapon... That rugged man, in full leather battle array... that crossbow, that hat... No mistake...

It was John, smirking at her the way he used to. He spoke tiredly, "What's taken you so long partner? I've been dyin' to finally rest..."

"I...” Linda began, but stopped. Mists took the image away. She shook her head. The mists were messing with her.

Ruki paused and turned to look in the fog as everyone else had done. She narrowed her eyes at the image it showed her: A Vistani woman, roughly her age... her height... her build... wearing her armor...

No, it was her. Another version, it seemed. She gripped her staff as the image spoke with Ruki’s own voice:

"I wonder how life could have been... if mother hadn't died... and if we hadn't been cursed by devil magic so..."

There is no way to know that. Do not dwell on this now... She told herself as the image faded.

The vines twisted and crackled around them. Slithering together to form small, humanoid shapes. Hissing and crackling sounds emanated from the figures, and their needle-y appendages lashed out toward them.

Ruki gripped her staff and stepped forward, in front of Jeeves. Channeling her psychic energy, she blasted them.

Weak foes... All in front of her collapsed into vines. But there were more coming... An entire horde.

Strahd crawled out of Ruki’s pack, alerted to the danger. He blinked as he saw the vine-y constructs and flew into the air...

He circled about the manor and observed. There were groups of the things coming from inside and from around the back of the house. He reached out to Ruki:

“Prepare, there are more coming. I’ll call aid...“

Strahd extended his senses deep into the land around him, and smiled inwardly. Yes, that should do it...

Come to me, little ones...

Ruki acknowledged Strahd and warned her companions, “More incoming!”

Aric snapped out of his uncertainty, and gripped on the Sunsword. The blade of light sprung forth, illuminating the slithering vine creatures. Aric rushed forward and cut down one of the creatures.

Linda readied her gun, trigger happy from the illusion she saw. Bam! Bam! Bam!

Three of the monsters fell. She reloaded as more emerged from the mists... and even more started barreling out of the front door.

Linda stepped back, I’m gonna need more bullets...

Four of the little creatures slithered close to Aric, raising their clawed appendages and swiping. Aric moved defensively, but bit back tears as he felt stinging in his skin from where one of them managed to pierce his leg.

Linda backed up from the creatures swarming her, but they leaped on to her and batted at her arms and legs, tearing into her skin...

Thwack! Ruki batted away a few with her staff, but one of the vine creatures flanked behind her and swiped at calf, throwing her off guard...

Thumping in the air disturbed the field of battle. The vine creatures paused, and Linda looked up... several dark, small shapes blotted out the moonlight peering through the rain and fell on the creatures-

Hundreds of tiny bats began to swarm and pick at the vine creatures.

Jeeves took advantage of the new distraction and quickly cut down two of the vine creatures as the bats began to rip the vines to shreds.

Ruki wheeled around and pounded her staff on the nearest construct, smashing it to smithereens.

Strahd flew up and joined one of the swarms of bats, and allowed himself to be taken by the frenzy. The swarms moved and fell down upon the needle blights, and tore vines from the forms.

A hot rage tore through Aric at the constant attacks in this country. He felt the rage burn within him and channeled the energy of his fire-genasi soul. He outstretched his hands as a spark ignited into a cone of flame that extended from him.

Enough of this!

He watched as the blights stopped their advance to him, and reeled back as his flames turned the vines into charcoal. They held their position, frozen for a brief moment, before the rain caused their small forms to collapse, coal dust scattering in the mud.

Linda fired twice at the little buggers, picking off a few as she maneuvered herself... but they just kept coming. She watched as a few more swarmed out of the winery towards her...

Damn annoying.

She and Aric braced themselves and protected their faces as the little creatures launched at them.

Jeeves readied his crossbow and fired at the blights.

Ruki’s eyes flashed and she balled her hand into a fist- channeling her power to crush the vine blights... She watched in satisfaction when all but one before her shriveled into a pile of vines and leaves. She raised her staff and smashed the last one standing for good measure.

Once more, the bats swarmed, and tore through the remaining blights... Aric swung the Sunsword, burning the little blights, and Linda took aim at the last one rushing them-

BANG!

It fell. More movement from within-

She aimed at the doorway-

And paused. Now, there were more of the little creatures, but accompanied by people wearing animal pelts, and wearing headdresses of various animal skulls. The blights seemed on edge, as did these people...

They must be druids... thought Linda.

“What is the meaning of this?“ cried a woman with a black fur cloak, and a ceremonial headdress of a stag skull.

Linda gestured with her revolver, “Your needle things attacked us."

The druids, four in total, spoke to each other in a language that the party didn’t quite understand. One of the druids fiddled with a staff and tapped it against his hand confusedly.

The woman who called out to them initially stepped forth, “These bats...” she lowered her voice, “Is Lord Strahd among us?”

The bats all landed around them. Perching in the trees, on the fences, in the house... Their eyes glowed red in the night and a low rumble permeated the air.

“Who wishes to know, and why?“ Strahd’s voice emanated from the tiny creatures... and it seemed like the land itself.

A chill cut through everyone. The druids appeared startled as they looked around.

Once more, the woman spoke, her voice wavering, "Apologies, Lord of Land.We are the druids of Clan Kavan-Terran. The Archdruid wished us to pay back the wereravens here for their trespass, and for their attack on our grove. But since we have the Lord's attention...”

She paused, “The Archdruid would like for you to come to Yester Hill. There is something... you need there."

Linda blinked, What would Strahd need from Yester Hill?

The bats swarmed together and departed the winery, fluttering as a large, black cloud in the night.

Strahd himself appeared before the druids, seemingly out of nowhere. The druids took knee, humbly, with their vine creatures mimicking the gesture.

"Indeed?” Strahd questioned, “You say the Martikovs attacked your grove? Whatever for? And what is this... something... you speak of?"

The woman spoke, "The Martikovs hoarded a gem of life, we discovered it here, and sought to use the power to restore the grove- to find some way to heal the Land...” She let bitterness into her voice, “The Martikovs assaulted our grove as we were trying to restore life to our Guardian. This was payback. As for the something...”

She briefly looked to the vampire, but turned away, “The Archdruid was very... quiet about its nature."

Linda folded her arms, and asked, "What were you doing inside?"

The druids were hesitant speaking, but finally one of the men spoke up:

"They tried to poison our efforts for restoring the lifeblood of our grove... so we poisoned the lifeblood of this building... well, only one of them..."

Strahd pinched the bridge of his nose, patience wearing thin. “You poisoned... the wine?” All traces of amusement vanished from his voice.

The druids shifted uncomfortably.

Strahd folded his hands behind his back, and faced the druids, "Well... that is another thing that has to be handled, then. I can't have my people being poisoned and dropping dead...”

He tilted his head, adding a warning tone to his voice, “The only reason you are still alive is because no one has been injured by it, and I am curious. But that is a rather thin line to be on..."

"Today, I am merciful,” he gestured to the woods, eyes flashing red, “Begone before I change my mind."

They didn’t need to be told twice. The druids shifted into a motley assortment of animals... a stag, a bear, a badger, and a hawk before retreating into the forests, their blights following them.

Strahd took a moment to calm himself before walking over to Jeeves. He spoke to the manservant, "If I recall, you had an affinity for poison..."

Jeeves looked to Aric, uncertainly, before answering, “Maybe so...”

Strahd steepled his fingers, leveling his gaze with Jeeves, “Do you mind figuring out for me... which one of these... is the poisoned one?”

“I’ll have to consult Lord Aric first,“ Jeeves answered, “My service is to him, and him alone.“

Strahd tiredly and dismissively made a gesture before turning to the door of the winery. “Very well. Let’s go inside in the meantime. The rain is wretched...”

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement, and shuffled through the vines, mud and ash to retreat indoors.

#curse of strahd #story update #writing #dnd #aric rein #linda tacklemeyer #ruki von holtz #wizard of wines

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anokat-blog · 5 years

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Writing Prompt #1

Writing Prompt: “In the near future, I was getting married.”

The roaring thunder made my knees quake in fear. Already I was shaking from the long line of possible suitors waiting outside the throne room, but the weather gave me a negative feeling. Something was going to go horribly wrong today.

The King by my right side, he inclined his head, and the big oak doors spread wide, the lit chandeliers illuminating the lustful look of the young men. My face scrunched up at the sight. Men from different kingdoms came far and wide for a possibility to marry into this wealthy family, but knowing King Julius, only the best would suite his taste.

"Darling, stop shaking. Stand tall. Stand proud. We are the descendants of the mighty dragons. Remember, we do not bow, we rule." His voice boomed.

"Yes of course." I managed to reply. Oh how I wanted to crawl out of my skin and escape to the stars. Far away, the thunder growled once more, lightning casting shadows on the faces of guards and servants. Rain splattered against the window pane, while the wind howled for my misery. Wishing I could cry and scream, I let the weather be my emotions.

"Bring forth the first suitor." King Julius ordered.

"Bryan of Aswalt, your majesty!" Announced the messenger.

Looking towards my father, a shadow cast along his face, and in an instant, Bryan was ushered out of the room. The process rolled out similarly for a while, suitors being ushered away as fast as the lightning outside. I sighed, my legs aching to go outside and sit in the sun. I just wanted to bring my lute and sing songs of freedom of the great world outside the barriers, who meeting an actual dragon, for I know they exist. I would never admit to it, but I've seen one when I was younger.

My mind closed off the process of elimination, and started wandering to the depths of my mind when I met the dragon. Scales that gleamed purple under the moonlight, but blue in the sunlight. Its claws bigger than my small childlike body, and the eyes that looked humane, captivating anyone in their-

"river eyes." I whisper. Looking back at the man standing in front of the King, piercing blue river eyes observed me already. Entranced, I couldn't look away.

"Landon of Tidvatten, your majesty!"

I looked beside me, the King having a contemplation look for a second. Actually, everyone in the room seemed entranced by the stranger before them. Landon's eyes finally left mine to look towards the king, and with grace, bowed low to the hip, perfect compared to the other suitors.

"Landon… Where is Tidvatten?" King Julius questioned.

"Up North your majesty. It is a kingdom flourishing with rivers, mountains and caves. The Kingdom profits on the minerals and gems it mines as well." smooth like honey his voice was. There was a subtle roughness in the back of his throat, that made my knees weak.

"Cordelia? What do you think?" An invitation to deny or accept. This was my choice, my decision whether or not this would be my future husband.

"I'm intrigued, " my eyes shifted to his already staring river eyes, "but I'd like to visit this Tidvatten Kingdom." Looking towards King Julius for approval, chills ran down my spine.

"Alright. Other suitors may leave for the time being. If anything knew comes up, I will call you back. Wilton, please show our new guest where he will be staying until the departure for his Kingdom. Cordelia, you are free to do what you want. Be back before diner however." The order rang out throughout the throne room, and I released a breath I was holding. "And Landon, " the guest stopped in his tracks, looking back at the king. "Please feel at home, and if you need anything, we are at your disposal." The two rulers smiled in agreement and trust. Kissing my father on the cheek, I snuck out the back doors and into the garden, servants having already brought my lute out for me. They know me too well.

Kicking off my shoes, I ran through the lush grass, the soft dew after the rain tickling my soles. The humid air filled my lungs, making me gasp. The sun peaked from behind a curtain of clouds, and I welcomed the chilled air after the storm. Making my way towards the shadow of the blossom tree, my senses heighten, to the point where I hear everything, see everything in details, and smell the aftermath of the harsh weather. Sighing, I lean against the tree, feeling the barks dig into my back.

"Hi mom," I whisper, bringing the lute closer to my chest. "Its been a long day you know. I think dad went through at least 34 suitors in two hours. Barely gave them a look and they were whisked off." I chuckled. The branches swayed in response, droplets splashing on me. "finally, after multiple suitors, dad finally found one that he deemed to be right for me." Shifting, I twirled a strand of my auburn hair around my finger. "He seemed pretty interesting, at least his eyes were captivating, and he comes from this kingdom called Tidvatten. I believe it means Riptide which-" I laughed, the thought obscure, "his eyes reflect quite oddly has they look like a riptide." The wind caressed my cheeks, carrying my silent tears away. "I learned another song. Well really I wrote it myself. Want to hear it?" As an answer, a single petal fell upon my lute, a silent welcome to the music.

Grew up in this kingdom

And when the rain would fall down

I'd just stare out the window

Dreamin' of what could be

And if I'd ever be free

I would pray

Trying hard to reach out

But when I try speak out

Felt like no one could hear me

Wanted to belong here

But something felt so wrong here

So I pray

I could fly away

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly

I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky

And I'll make a wish

Take a chance

Make a change

And fly away

With a last string, I exhaled a raspy breath, my emotions screaming to come out.

Applause sounded in front of me, and surprised, I sprung to my feet, arms clutching my lute, my back pressed against the tree for protection. A shadow cast along the lush green grass, my eyes finally met the river eyes of Landon. In realization, he took a step back and raised his hands in surrender.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just," a sidelong glance to the garden beside, "I heard the lute from the guest bedroom window and I got curious. Your magnificent singing voice drew me in. I couldn't help but listen." With a sad smile, he nodded to the tree. "And understand your pain."

My heart raced in my chest, the thought of anyone else but my mother hearing me sing, was frightening. Clearing my throat, I saw back down, inclining my head in an invitation. Sitting across from me, we stayed in silence for a while, until I cleared my throat.

"I-I'm not really... Used to people coming to this part of the gardens. Servants know I'm the only one that comes here, while King Julius comes twice, on her birthday and their wedding anniversary." I somberly speak. The wind whisked around us in an embrace.

"I get that. We all have our spots that only we enjoy to be in quiet." Contemplating, he looked to the blossom tree, admiring its features and pinkish petals. "When you come to visit, I'll show you my secret hidden spot. A secret for a secret." He warmly smiled at me, and my heart skipped a beat. Never had I been so affected by anyone, yet his eyes, they just seemed so familiar.

"I'm sorry, this is going to sound preposterous, but have we met?" I blurted. Sudden realization overcame my being, and embarrassment curled inside my stomach.

"I hope so." He laughed. Oh how it sounded like heaven, almost like the missing harmony to my lute. With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he stood up with an outstretched hand. "Come on, show me the best places in the garden after this one."

Walking through the garden with him, I didn't notice the time past by because I was enjoying myself so much. There was a sense of comfort and peace that I hadn't felt in a long time. When stars spotted the sky and the moon cast shadows on the earth, I loathed leaving him for the night. My thoughts spun restlessly in circles, but I knew one thing was for certain. In the near future, I was getting married, but I didn't know if Landon was going to be the one.

#writing prompt #short story

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that-buckley-gal · 5 years

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Eternal Glory - The First Task (2)

The four champions had all taken part in a wand weighing ceremony where Mr. Ollivander had tested each of their wands to see if they were all fit for use, and they were. Shortly afterwards, each champion was to be interviewed by Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet.

Cordelia found that she didn’t like the pushy, eccentric woman who seemed to only be concerned with Harry Potter rather than the tournament at hand. No matter, the sixth year kept a civil attitude while being interviewed and expressed her displeasure to her close friends only behind closed doors. Seamus and Cedric, it seemed, had both expressed annoyance with Harry Potter’s situation while Cordelia remained impartial to it. She didn’t dwell on it, instead focusing on the fact that she hadn’t any clue as to what the First task would be. It was nearing mid-November and she became anxious of having no news other than the task was designed to test their daring. Hogwarts’ student body only added to her anxiety as they all would rather put forth their faith in Hogwarts into her rather than Harry. They showed this by wearing magical badges that said “Support CORDELIA DIGGORY – the REAL Hogwarts champion!” before changing to read “POTTER STINKS”. Cordelia was annoyed by these badges and had empathy for the younger champion and asked the students not to wear them. Only her closest friends and Cedric listened to her while Harry would often sneak her slight smiles in thanks. Cordelia would smile back. She supposed that it was Harry returning her kindness when he pulled her to the side and warned her that Dragons were the first task. They – the game makers – had a dragon for each of them, which unnerved the Diggory girl, but she pushed her thoughts to the side and thanked Harry, who awkwardly thanked her for telling people to not wear the badges. Cordelia then spent the days leading up to the first task learning all she could about dragons with the aid of her friends and Seamus and Ron Weasley, though the latter only knew sporadic facts his brother Charlie had told him. Nonetheless, Cordelia was grateful and Professor Flitwick offered up his free classroom to her so she could practice spells she needed practice with.

When November 24th finally rolled around, Cordelia felt confident in her abilities and knowledge of dragons. Still that didn’t stop Cedric from talking about this and that and to remember to do this and watch that while dealing with it over breakfast.

Lunchtime rolled around and the champions had to leave to get prepared for the task. Cordelia walked along with Fleur down towards the Quidditch pitch where the task was being held. The two continued to chat idly. Upon reaching the tent, the two girls changed into their outfits. Cordelia loved the tan fitting pants, white fitted shirt and customized yellow jumper she was provided. She especially loved the brown leather lace up boots and wondered if she was going to be allowed to keep everything afterwards. She hoped so. She admired her jumped for another long moment. On the back was a Hufflepuff crest along with her last name over it. Under the crest was the word Hogwarts as well, which only increased Cordelia’s love for the jumper. Finally, she slipped it on and zipped it up. She tucked her wand into her boot before stepping out the stand idly in the tent. Her father had entered the tent as he was to her as Olympe Maxime was to Fleur, or as Igor Karkaroff was to Viktor. Alastor Moody appeared to be Harry’s guider or whatever. Her father had wrapped his arms around her and continued where Cedric had left off. “Be safe! You can do this! Just remember to do… Don’t forget that…” Cordelia loved her father, but couldn’t help but let her eyes roll. She wasn’t a porcelain doll that needed to be protected. She was a legal age witch now, and due to graduate Hogwarts in two years. She didn’t need her father and Cedric eyeballing her every move anymore. Not to mention she was maintaining a relationship with a younger Irishman who seemed to be more mature than even she was at times. No matter, she assured her father that she knew what she was doing. Shortly afterwards, Dumbledore had bustled in along with Barty Crouch Sr. and Ludo Bagman. Crouch had brought Cordelia to his right side, Fleur next to her, Victor across from Fleur, and Harry on his left. The man had further explained that they were to pick a dragon out of the bag, which represented a real dragon they would face in the arena. Their task was to find and retrieve a golden egg. “Miss Diggory, if you’d please.” Cordelia had pulled on a brave face and entered a hand into the smoky bag, flinching slightly when she felt one of the dragons nip her pinky. She smirked slightly to herself then as she dug further into the bag before wrapping her hand around the tiny dragon that bit her and pulled it out. She stared in awe at the tiny silvery blue dragon that circled in her hand. Her awe only grew as the little thing blew out a gust of blue fire into the air. “A Swedish Short-Snout,” Barty identified before offering the bag to Fleur. Cordelia used her thumb to awkwardly pet the mini Swede, who only nuzzled into it. She then focused on the others as Fleur picked out a Common Welsh Green. Viktor was to face a Chinese Fireball. Harry was left with a Hungarian Horntail. Just the sight of the little bugger made Cordelia afraid for Harry. She then offered the little dragon to her father as Dumbledore announced she would be going first at the sound of the cannon. BOOM! Cordelia flinched slightly and the announcer announced her name, and the crowd began to chant “Digg-ory! Digg-ory!” She then took a deep breath and stepped near the entrance. “Digg-ory! Digg-ory!” She took another breath before exiting the tent to see that the Quidditch pitch was transformed into a rocky terrain. Her eyes took in the stands, eyes growing brighter when she saw Seamus and Dean were holding up at Diggory sign in the Gryffindor section. She was slightly surprised to find yellow littering the Slytherin and Ravenclaw sections as well, but nonetheless grateful. Feeling confident, she carefully treaded out onto the rocky ground, grey eyes searching for a golden egg. She still didn’t see the dragon yet, which scared her. Either way she carefully treaded even further into the rocks. Suddenly the sound of rocks falling down had Cordelia pulling her wand out of her boot and turning sharply towards the noise. Her eyes widened when she saw the dragon climbing down from the rock she entered through. The little one in the tent was adorable, but the 22-foot dragon in front of her nearly made her faint. The dragon growled and opened its mouth; Cordelia had enough sense to duck for cover behind a rock before blue fire surrounded her. She gripped her wand and pointed it up shouting “AQUA ERUCTO”. The blue flames above her diminished and she stood up and aimed the water flow at the dragon’s mouth, stopping its fire. She then ran to a different, larger rock while the dragon recoiled and spat out the water, trying to reignite its fire. Cordelia’s arm movement let Professor McGonagall know she was about to do some Transfiguration. Before her eyes, the sixth year changed a somewhat large rock into a yellow Labrador that started to bark aggressively at the dragon, which found its flame. Cordelia urged the dog to run away, which it did and the dragon followed it. The witch then sprung up and started to aggressively search for the egg. Her steps recaptured the dragon’s attention, which then shot another gust of fire at her. Cordelia barely managed out a “PROTEGO” before diving behind another rock. She transfigured another rock into another dog – this one a Beagle that started howling – before running off again. She spotted a nest at last and cheered in her mind, noting how the dragon kept making moves towards the dogs that started to bark or howl only when the dragon was going after the other. Cordelia made sure her steps were light and quick as she approached the nest. There in the center of all of the other eggs was a golden egg, and Cordelia summoned it to her. Immediately wizards began to swarm the arena, and Cordelia caught a sight of red hair, before she was allowed to leave with her prize.

Congratulatory hugs were awaiting her as she stepped out of the arena. First from her father and Cedric, then Seamus had to kiss his dearest and congratulate her personally. Nobody pushed her to open the egg, the poor girl had just faced off with a dragon after all. Cordelia hadn’t noticed until just now how dirty she’d gotten. Her pants were now stained and blackened as was her jumper, but she figured a simple cleaning spell would take care of it, no problem. For now, she was excused to relax with her egg while the others had left to watch the other three contestants face off. Amos Diggory had given his daughter the tiny replica dragon back and Cordelia decided she would keep her, naming her Reese. Reese didn’t seem to mind her name as she curled up in Cordelia’s palm and promptly fell asleep. Fleur had put her dragon to sleep, but received some minor burns due to the dragon breathing fire in its sleep. Her score was 43. Viktor had somehow blinded his dragon, which allowed him to get to the egg easily. He would’ve easily gotten all 50 points, had the dragon not stumbled around and broke half of her eggs. His score was 40. Harry had the most dangerous dragon of them all. He used a summoning charm to call his Firebolt and lead the dragon away from her nest. He was successful and got the egg quickly. Quicker than Cordelia had gotten hers, so was rewarded the highest amount of points. His score was 50. Though Cordelia managed to transfigure two rocks into two different dogs, wield a successful water charm, successfully protect herself with a shield spell, and use her own summoning charm on the egg, she still took a little longer to retrieve her egg. Thus, she was rewarded less points than Harry. Her score was 47.

#eternal glory #seamus finnigan #cedric diggory #harry potter #triwizard tournament

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