#or to only shield herself which allowed her to get a sneak attack on it but risking the rest of the team

[cherrysnax]

I had a dream last night about ao oni but instead of the normal kids, it was a bunch of young mutants who slipped away from the x-mansion, and it was rlly weird

#they were all like #ocs I guess #unfortunately: the dream was more like hetaoni than the og game 😭 #it was kinda gas #they were slowly losing their powers the longer they were in the mansion #and the defacto leader of the little group of like 8 was the first to go 😎 he was a jackass anyway #it focused more on this telepath/illusions gal named Evelyn #loosely code named psyche/sike because she liked to pull pranks #I don’t remember the full dream but theee was a time where I had to make a choice of either having her use her powers to make the other guys #appear invisible to the oni but that would lead to her immediate death #or to only shield herself which allowed her to get a sneak attack on it but risking the rest of the team #there was a combat system and everything! #for some reason they couldn’t reach professor x at all (for reasons) #I think it was like. an evo inspired universe?? idk man it was weird #there were shapeshifting twins. would could turn into beasts and monsters and animals #and the other could only turn into this gigantic muscular form but she hated doing it #the other twin eventually managed to turn into the one of the monsters that was chasing the group and it helped a lot! until they got to the #oni room #but yeah in my dream there were a bunch of different endings and so many characters #I woke up really missing x men evo lmaooo

[hard-core-super-star]

Ngl, being able to edit things here is cool, other media don't have this option so all you have to do is delete or slowly die every time you remember that mistake🥲

WELL– in that case it would be really fun to see Yelena just being a big softie to reader and end up getting caught by her friends doing so, then everyone would make fun of her or something (it would probably be their last time making fun of something in their lives, poor souls.

I saw that you still have things to write, so no hurry (and good luck with all this-). Also, Your writing is really good so it will be good anyway, but I'm sure you'll get it!

passive-aggressive magic tricks [Y.Belova]

pairing: yelena belova x reader

summary: a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

warnings: none, i think [except peter being verbally attacked every other paragraph lmao]; so much dialogue; a weirdly written game of uno; just...so much chaos; never written for yelena before so feel free to yell at me if she's too ooc in this one

wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: this gif makes me feel things gonna start this off by saying that this is meant to be romantic but you can read it as platonic if you want. i know everyone has an opinion on yelena's sexuality and not everyone will agree with mine and that's okay! [just don't be a jerk about it. i personally think yelena is a demiromantic asexual so do with that what you will] ALSO, this is so chaotic and borderline nonsensical and you can blame 🌟 for making me think about yelena playing uno that one time. ALSO ALSO, thank you for the vote of confidence, lovely anon, this was actually really fun to write and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This sucks,” Kate declares with a pout.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, Kate Bishop.” Yelena’s words only make the archer’s pout deepen which makes the whole situation feel even more ridiculous.

“Yeah, Kate,” you jump in. “You’re the one who started talking shit in the first place.”

An offended gasp escapes her lips at your accusation. “I wasn’t talking shit! I was being honest about my skills.”

This time, Peter cuts in before the blonde gets a chance to make fun of the archer again. “Guys, I thought we decided against Monopoly so we wouldn’t fight.”

“Fighting is Yelena’s love language,” you reply with a shrug.

You pretend not to notice the way the Russian’s lips quirk up into a small smile and instead focus on Kate and her awful decision-making skills. It takes her a few extra seconds and she still manages to choose the most annoying card in her hand.

“It took you two minutes to throw in a plus-four?” Peter questions, clearly doing his best to not sound judgemental.

“Shut up and take the cards, Pete.”

The boy grumbles something you don’t quite catch but Kate is quick to punch him in the arm, earning herself a kick to the shin. Their dynamic is certainly…interesting and you can’t stop yourself from wondering how much of it comes from being two only children attempting to one-up each other.

Yelena leans in toward you, pretending to whisper. “Why are we hanging out with them again?”

The pair clearly overhears her considering both the glare and the pout that gets thrown your way. You merely shrug in response, attempting to shield your cards from her expert gaze. “It’s…entertaining, I guess.”

“You guys are jerks,” Kate says, speaking the thoughts Peter is far too nice to vocalize. (It’s definitely not because he’s terrified of getting on Yelena’s bad side.)

“And you suck at Uno.”

She rolls her eyes at you but decides not to reply. The small moment of silence allows Peter to take his turn and the game continues…until Yelena decides to betray you.

You’re not fully paying attention to the strategies each one of your companions is forming which means you don’t realize it when they decide to team up against you.

You’re only four cards away from winning and the blonde beside you can’t stop herself from sneaking a look at your deck. Kate somehow manages to catch her in the act and the two stare each other down until the archer raises an eyebrow, silently asking to be a part of the Russian’s plan.

A plan that quickly leads to Kate placing down another plus-four card and Peter being thrown one of Yelena’s under the table. 

“We can stack, right?” He asks, mainly in an attempt to keep you from noticing what they’re doing.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply with a shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when Yelena pulls out a knife from her boot.”

The joke gets a few chuckles, and a slightly concerned look from the young Avenger. 

“Do not worry, Spider-Boy, I promised y/n I wouldn’t threaten you…again.”

“Right…” Peter’s clearly not convinced but he throws in his card anyway.

You turn to face Yelena with a smug smirk. “Sorry, babe, but it looks like I’m on my way to winning this round.”

“You sound like Kate Bishop.” She playfully rolls her eyes at you but the glint in her eyes shows off more amusement than annoyance. “I hope you handle losing better than she does, though.”

“Hey!” You and the archer both voice your protests, albeit for different reasons, as the blonde slams down the last plus-four card needed to ensure you won’t win any time soon.

This time around, she’s the one who looks at you with a smug grin but you’re too busy being dramatic to fully appreciate how good she looks when she’s being competitive. It’s genuinely just a stupid card game and yet you pull out all the tricks you’ve learned over the past few months to get the Russian to melt into the huge softie she is at heart.

“Oh, come on, that was mean.” You pull on your best impression of Kate’s wounded puppy dog look. A look that includes slightly wide eyes and an incredibly deep pout.

A pout Yelena has never been good at resisting. (But only when it comes to you, much to the archer’s dismay)

She, literally and figuratively, keeps her cards close to her chest but you catch the way her free hand twitches slightly, almost as if she’s fighting to keep herself from touching you. It’s strange how affectionate she wants to be with you when she’s always been the first to pull away from a hug, the first one to scoot away when someone sits too close. 

Being guarded had always felt like second nature to her until you came along.

Her hand reaches out before she can stop it, landing on your knee and giving it a soft yet reassuring squeeze. It's a subtle reminder that underneath all her sarcasm and the rough edges, she cares about you. A lot more than she ever thought herself capable of.

“It’s just a game, sweetheart.” The words are a mere whisper but somehow the person with the worst attention span you’ve ever seen manages to overhear them.

“Did you just call y/n ‘sweetheart’?” Kate blurts out, clearly far too shocked to worry about her safety. “You actually have feelings?”

“Wait, did she really say that?” Peter’s slightly more cautious but there’s both awe in curiosity shining in his brown eyes.

“I heard her!”

“I think you hit your head too hard on your last mission, Bishop,” you reply, trying to steer the conversation away the second Yelena starts glaring at your friends.

Despite all her other skills, Kate is still awful at reading the room so instead of accepting the safety you’re offering, she decides to be stubborn like always. “Don’t lie to me, y/n, I know what I heard. Yelena’s just a big-”

“A big what?” The blonde cuts in with the most threatening glare she can manage. Which, considering she’s an ex-assassin, is quite effective at shutting the archer up.

“Um…” You can practically see the wheels spinning in the brunette’s head as she tries to come up with something different to say. She clearly fails based on the words that come out. “A big softie..?”

“Oh, Kate,” you sigh. “You’re never going to learn to stop poking the bear, huh?”

“What do you mean?” 

Her confusion lasts for about a second before Yelena shoots up from the couch and lunges toward her. The archer gets the message pretty quickly after that, expertly ducking out of the way and taking off running in the direction of the bathroom.

All you can do is laugh and shake your head as the Russian chases after her. “Go easy on her, babe!”

“Yeah, Yelena, listen to your girlfriend!”

“Kate!” You and the Russian yell out at the same time, leading to a fit of giggles belonging to the biggest instigator you've ever met.

"So much for a chill game night," Peter mumbles, placing his cards onto the coffee table. "You're gonna go help Kate out, right?"

You shrug. "I'll think about it."

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fic #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova #florence pugh #hawkeye #black widow #kate bishop #peter parker #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[bandydear]

I’ve been reading your tlgbf tlgbl fic, and am absolutely obsessed!! Where did you get the inspirations for dyke Jackie? I love how you’ve written her and her queerness

So, I prescribe to the theory that Jackie had some inclinations about her homosexuality out there in the wild and that's why she's parading around in sweater vests and limp wrists. That the high femme presentation we see in the pilot is more of a gender and social performance than who she is. And, I explored the people pleaser elements that lingered behind in that.

She compliments Nat in the Pilot that she admires how true to herself Natalie is which means that Jackie is not true to herself. She feels the pressure of expectation and lives within that expectation instead of her truth. We are never given a "truth that could crash an airplane" from Jackie. What she says is that she used to sneak downstairs and watch The Color of Night so she could pause it at Bruce Willis's wang.

For research for the fic, I watched Color of Night (the shit I do for art...). Bruce Willis's flaccid dong is there for like, five frames. And, it's not impressive like she claims it to be. You know what that movie actually has a lot of? Naked women and lesbian sex. Jackie's gay.

I know a lot of butch/futch/even high femme dykes who began their journeys presenting heterofemme realness and rejected it when they made their way down the rainbow brick road. Jackie very much gives me those vibes. Like, she has gay energy, but also a very "useless gay man" energy.

I think that finding out "x amount" of her teammates are some kind of queer and that the Very Hetero Sport she's been shielding herself with is uhhhhh Not That is part of what leads her down the path of self-discovery.

She's also shredded. Jackie canonically has an 8-pack and that's interesting because in the 90's, muscle tone was seen as something undesirable for women. (Now, I know that the show is made Now, where the aesthetic ideals are different, but if it's in the text it counts.)

Anyway, this has all been said before in other tumblr posts about Jackie being gay. I'm sure you're asking about why I wrote her as a futch service top instead of say, a femme pillow princess?

It has to do with her character arc. In S1 of Yellowjackets, Jackie's arc is one of nihilism and regression. The only thing that is keeping her alive in this survival situation is her love for Shauna, and when she learns of Shauna's resentment, she loses the will to live. Literally. Dies of a broken heart.

Jackie cannot survive in an environment without love. And, she struggles with survival instincts in general. Which is what makes her a great foil to Nat, who cannot help but survive, and, ironically, dies in S2 of too much love. The moment Nat stopped being cynical and nihilistic she doomed herself.

Two characters in direct opposition cannot exist so therefore they must either kill one or the other other--or change each other to live in harmony. I chose the latter. Jackie softens Nat and Nat hardens Jackie. They meet in the middle. If Jackie becomes hard, and becomes someone who can survive, what does that look like? What's the funniest possible way to get to this point?

Make Jackie the one who builds the shelter. Take this ineffectual, limp wristed twink and show her the way towards self-sufficiency through trades. Her home was broken beyond repair, so she learns how to fix it on her own. The literal is metaphorical and the metaphorical is literal.

So, now that I've explained:

Why Jackie is gay

Why Jackie fixes houses

Now, "why a service top"?

I touch on it in the text, but I don't think she's solely that. I do think that even after coming out, if she was experimenting with people who weren't Shauna she wouldn't allow herself to be physically vulnerable with them. It would cause a panic attack. She has a very Protestant energy and receiving pleasure as a part of sex would probably give her like 5 different mental breaks.

Jackie doesn't enjoy sex with Jeff (oral and hand stuff count as sex) not just because she's gay, but because she's too self-aware of how she's being perceived to enjoy her body.

On the other hand, she is a chronic people pleaser--though Lazy, so I knew she couldn't jump into this with both feet. If Jackie had slept with the girl in chapter 1 it wouldn't have gone well, and it would have been super awkward and unsatisfying for both parties. It's the envy at seeing Nat enjoying herself, and finally being in a safe space to relax a little that allows her to explore sensuality. Still, I don't think she'd let herself be touched in the same way.

If she had, as planned, shared a room with Shauna at Rutgers, I could see her being in a much more comfortable sexual role. Because Shauna was her safe space. But, I could also see her bringing a lot of her own baggage into that situation, and it quickly becoming toxic. I don't think they'd work romantically out of their "platonic" relationship in school, because it had already broken and festered by the Pilot.

Anyway! That's the impetus for Jackie's dykery. I hope that clarified some things. There are other folks out there who have come away with other, valid, and cool conclusions, but these are the ones I came to with my own research and experience. Thanks again for asking!

#fanfic: tlgbf tlgbl #yellowjackets fanfic #jackie taylor

[destinygoldenstar]

Sherilyn Rosuto Vs Azra Jade Ayla (Destiny’s Burden)

Then he loses focus. “War Shred!”

That’s a warning. Sheri jumps out of the way.

All the ice gets slashed at once in a heated scarlet color.

Charlie falls on the rooftop behind Sheri, who has her fists up over her face.

Two more figures appear in front of the plane, one guy and one girl. They both have identical charred bone face masks and gothic pale skin. 

The guy is tall and lanky with spiky black hair and silver armor over a black outfit. He has a red fabric on his belt, red highlights on his shoes and chestplate, and a red cape. He has a long bright red sword out. The girl, in opposition, has a small purple dagger in her hand. She has silver armor bands on her arms and purple belts strapped on one ankle, her shorts, and the bottom of her black crop top. Her legs and her ponytail are a thick black. 

Sheri’s face lights up and she lets her guard down. She has a huge smile. “Azra! Where’ve you been?!”

“Not here.” Azra states. Her voice is deeper and more monotone.

Sheri points out, “I thought you moved on to ‘bigger things’, quote on quote.”

“This is bigger.” The guy states, sword pointed. 

“I was talking to the chick,” Sheri says to him.

Azra uses her hand to put the guy’s arm down and get the sword aim off of Sheri. She says, “Ari, brother, I thought you were cutting off from the swordplay.”

Ari looks at his sister with disbelief. He claims, “That was our break, which was, for your eyes, terrible and unrewarding.”

He charges at Sheri, slashing his sword. 

Sheri has to set several glaciers in front of her to break instead. Charlie throws his shield at the siblings, and it flashes to separate everyone.

Azra quickly zips through this by having her body turn into a shadow that vanishes on the ground. The shadow travels through the light, and in blackness, Azra’s body reappears in front of Sheri to pull a sneak attack with her dagger. Sheri blocks it and steps back.

Charlie tries to keep the shield light on Ari to keep him blinded. He tries to go for the sacks, but Ari is giving aimless small slashes that get in the way.

Only one sack is at the other side of the rooftop, which is the one near Azra. Azra’s foot gets caught on it, and she picks it up and hurdles it on her back. With Sheri on her, she proceeds to defend herself with her hand. They go at it a bit, but neither of them land any sort of hit on each other. There’s multiple chances where they could land a hit, but they don’t. Instead, Sheri is flicking ice, and Azra is dodging them with her shadow-like speed.

“Your brother hated the vacation?” Sheri asks her.

“He’s been whining about Klyde for the past month.” Azra answers. Sheri jumps over her to avoid a swing of the sack. Azra puts the sack back on her shoulder to continue her story. “And it wasn’t a vacation, it was a trip to see some friends.” Azra tries to do a spin kick, but she misses. “By ‘friends’, I mean my friends. It’s something Ari doesn’t have.”

“I can hear you!” Ari shouts from the other side of the roof. Ari tries to raise his other arm to knock off Charlie, but the Sue uses a sword throw to flick the Dark Lord’s sword out of his hand. 

Vulcan, from the airship, throws a dagger at Charlie, who has to turn around to block. It gives Ari the chance to slide out by merging with the shadows.

Sheri tries to slide around Azra, but she’s not fast enough, and Azra zips around her in shadow as a delusion. It keeps her in place and makes her dizzy. She can’t see the strike to the leg that comes. It makes Sheri trip over on her hip as Azra reappears. 

Sheri’s unbothered, and she gets up with Azra allowing it. She asks with a smile, “Anger management didn’t work, eh?”

“It was your advice.” Azra sneers. “You know nothing about that, do you?”

“Guilty.” Sheri says playfully, getting up to throw ice around the rooftop to surround Azra. 

Azra zips in front of Sheri and trips her over. She grabs her by the jacket to look her in the eye in a scowl.

“Hey…” Sheri, still with a less than serious tone, whines, “You’re that bitter with me? I tried to help.”

“Exactly.” Azra says with a tough tone. Then that tone drops a little when she asks, “What is your deal?”

With a smirk, the answer is, “Right now it’s falling by your feet.”

Azra lets go of Sheri and lets her fall on the pavement head first.

“Yeah… I deserve that.” Sheri admits, holding her head in pain.

The hand she’s using is in front of Azra, flickering the blue aura and bruised. 

Azra takes a step over, asking, “You got hurt before I showed up-?”

Then her legs and free arm are trapped in a wall of ice. 

An arm slams onto the ice wall on the side of Azra’s head, cornering her.

“Keep saying you don’t care, I won’t believe you.” Sheri says as she pins her.

“I don’t.” Azra sneers. 

Sheri looks down from the Dark Lord’s face. Then she says, “I need the bag.”

Azra huffs. She can’t do anything from her position. Sheri’s free to take the sack of Diamonds from her. 

It’s the one with her headphones.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She says with a big smile on her face.

“Of course not.” Azra defends, eyes darting to the side.

“You’re trying to steal my music now, huh?” Sheri teases. 

“Who’d want to steal rubbish?” Azra asks back.

Sheri asks, “How long before you find a hit in that track?”

“ You’re gonna get hit right now. ” 

Sheri turns around. Ari’s behind her. He punches her in the gut and grabs her jacket to throw her aside. 

He demands with an ugly snarl, “ Stay off my sister. ”

“You gonna help me?” Azra asks him. He does, punching the ice to break it instantly. 

He grabs the sack and his sister’s hand, and runs for the airship. “Enough nonsense, we’re leaving.”

Sheri, still on the ground, calls out, “I missed you too!”

Destiny’s Burden: Read now!

#Destiny’s Burden #Sherilyn Rosuto #Azra Jade Ayla #Shera #Frostbite #Read my book #lgbtqiia+ #lesbian #hero x villain #lgbtqia

[wicked-mind]

I'm Broken, Too.

Summary: Steve goes back in time to put the infinity stones back where they belong in time. Although he doesn’t return, leaving his twin sister Y/N and best friend Bucky behind.

Word Count: 3.5

Warnings: Implications of smut. Spoilers if you haven’t seen all the movies or series.

Notes: I may add onto this later. Who knows? Not beta’d. Just quickly wrote this so any/all mistakes and confusions are my own.

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Flash-Back

“Bucky! What if someone catches us?” Y/N giggled out breathlessly from behind one of the cargo trucks, kisses being trailed down her neck as she tilts her head backwards. It had been a few days since Steve and herself came and rescued Bucky from the prisoner camp and she was ecstatic to have Bucky back in her grasp.

“If you stay quiet then they won’t, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckles out against her neck as he left soft kisses. It had started to rain, soaking his short brown hair and clothes as well as Y/N. His hands trailed down to her waist, hoisting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her back up against the side of the truck. They were each other’s little secret. Kept from everybody, even Steve. Granted it was a lot harder to sneak around a military base than it was in Brooklyn but that didn’t stop them from stealing little moments together, “Not too quiet though…” He pulled back and grinned at her, moving one hand to stroke her cheek before his thumb gently traces her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, “I like the sounds those pretty lips make for me.”

Y/N smiles at him, running her fingers through his dark hair and tilts her head at him, “Sergeant Barnes, I am not having sex with you in the middle of a military camp in the rain! Especially at the military camp where my brother is lurking around somewhere.” She chuckles to him, leaning forward and kissing his lips softly, “I’m still a lady.”

Bucky grins at her, licking his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth for a soft bite and a wrinkle of his nose, “You keep calling me Sergeant Barnes and I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart.”

If Steve Rogers was the shield, his twin sister Y/N was the sword. She had taken the super serum with Steve- it was the only way she would allow her brother to go through the tests plus the scientists were curious about how it would affect twins. While Steve became Captain America with his shield, Y/N became Lady Patriot with dual blades. Together they rescued their friend Bucky from a prisoner camp and created the Howling Cammandos. It was extremely controversial to have a woman fighting in the war but she didn’t let anybody stand in her way. While Steve was more gentle and refined, Y/N was wild and head-strong. She never let anybody, let alone a man with high ranks, stand in her way. Steve had to stop her physically from going and looking for Bucky’s body after he fell from the train and after that, Y/N sacrificed herself with Steve when he put the jet in the ocean with the tesseract.

After Steve and Y/N found out Bucky was alive, they did everything in their power to try and protect him. Figure out what happened and how he became the Winter Soldier. He had recognized Y/N first before Steve but he was not the same man that had stared into her eyes as he fell from the train in the Alps.

Y/N stood beside Steve and the Avengers during the events with Thanos, her heart breaking for a second time when she watched Bucky turn into dust before she could reach him. This was the third time she had lost him. The first time was when he became a prisoner of war, second time when he fell from the train, and third time when he was blipped away from existence. But what remained of the Avengers never gave up. She helped them go back in time to collect the stones and was there when Thanos came back from the past to exterminate them again. Though this time didn’t go like the first time they fought Thanos five years ago. They won, bringing everybody back, and all that was left for Steve to return the stones to their proper time.

“Wait Buck, we gotta talk.”

“You’re not coming back are you?”

“No. It’s Peggy, Buck... this is my chance.”

Bucky just nods in understanding.

“Do me a favor though. Take care of Y/N. She isn’t going to handle this well.”

“You don’t even need to ask, Steve. I got her.”

Y/N stood beside Bruce, helping him set up the technology that would send her twin brother back in time to place all the infinity stones in time where they belonged. She looked over to see Steve and Bucky talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying even with her amplified hearing. She smiled as they approached, passing the brief case to her brother, “Remember, you have to return the stones to exactly where they were taken from or you’re going to open up a lot of nasty alternate realities.”

Steve smiled gently at his sister, taking the brief case that contained the stones from her, “Don’t worry, Y/N. I got it. Clip all the branches.” He told her before stepping onto the platform with the brief case in one hand and Mjolnir in the other.

“Ready?” Bruce asks, standing beside Y/N at the table to activate the technology that would allow Steve to go back in time to return the stones.

“You bet.” Steve said, taking one last look at Bucky and Sam before looking to his sister. He gave another small smile before his helmet clicked around his head.

Y/N tilted her head slightly at his smile. It seemed almost sad which made a bubble of worry enter her stomach, “Okay… Going quantum in three… two… one.” She watched Bruce hit the button and Steve disappear from the platform.

“And returning in five… four… three… two… one.” Bruce said and clicked the switch that would bring Steve back. The two paused when he didn’t return, looking over the screens and tech.

“What happened?!” Y/N asks Bruce, “Bring him back, now!”

Sam was about to interject to tell Bruce what Y/N had already told him but Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder, “Sam.” He said, looking over to a figure in the distance of a grey haired man sitting on the bench. Bucky watched Sam approach the elderly man that Bucky already knew was Steve.

Y/N looked up to see what Bucky and Sam were looking at and then she saw Steve. But it wasn’t the Steve she knew. He was older and sitting quietly on a bench alone. She took in a deep, sharp breath realizing what her twin brother had done. He had stayed back in time to be with Peggy. She shook her head, stepping away from Bruce about to make her way over to her brother to chew him out when Bucky grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her to a stop, “Let me go, Bucky!” She hissed out at him.

Bucky watched her with a tinge of sadness in his eyes, “Y/N, stop. He needs to talk to Sam first.” He said gently, his eyes scanning her face. He had known her since the day he brought Steve home the first time after getting beat up. They served in the Howlin’ Cammandos together and she had watched him fall from the train. She was there when he was the Winter Soldier. He had dragged her and Steve from the river after stopping the Helicarrier’s launch. She was there when Civil War happened between the avengers, helping to protect him from Tony while trying to take out the other Winter Soldiers. Y/N had stayed with him in Wakanda, helping him find some sort of peace before he was blipped out of existence by Thanos and she was there waiting when he returned. She had always been a constant in his life. Y/N was his home since the first time he kissed her and, god, he longed for that feeling again but didn’t feel worthy of it anymore.

Y/N turned to glare at Bucky, pulling her wrist out of his grasp, “You knew.” She said, “You knew he was going to do this, didn’t you?”

Bucky sighs and nods slowly, “I did… He told me. He deserves this, sweetheart.” He said softly, reaching out to brush his flesh fingers along her cheek softly. It had been five years since he last saw her before he was snapped away by Thanos and he still felt everything for her.

Y/N looked over at her now elderly brother before back to Bucky, pushing his hand away from her face, “You two have always been quite the pair, James.” She spat out at him before pushing past him. She could hear him calling her name, telling her to wait but she just kept walking.

That was the one of the last times Bucky had seen Y/N as she was. He couldn’t go after her yet though- he had his own shit to work out from his past as the Winter Soldier. He was offered a deal by the federal government where he would be pardoned for the actions as the Winter Soldier as long as he attended court-mandated therapy and psych-evaluations. He couldn’t go after her until he had dealt with all this bullshit. Then the Flag Smashers came to light, causing him and Sam to jump into action to deal with the new super soldiers.

The next time Bucky saw Y/N was in Madripoor at the Princess Bar. He was forced by Zemo to pretend to be the Winter Soldier and couldn’t let down his act. He saw her in the corner watching with her angry eyes locked on Zemo, ready to attack him. Luckily, Sam had noticed her too and got in her path, “Hey, Y/N, don’t.” Sam warned, placing his hands on her arms to get between the fight that Bucky was putting on, “We need Zemo. There’s shit going on you don’t know about. The Flag Smashers and new super-soldiers.”

Y/N glared at Sam, pushing him away from her, “Get off of me.” She hissed out at him before promptly exiting the bar. She had noticed Bucky give her a softened look from the corner of his eyes as he had a man slammed against the bar but even after all this time she was still upset at her brother for leaving her and Bucky for not telling her.

After everything with the Flag Smashers was settled and Sam took the new roll as Captain America, Bucky attended the community cookout with Sam’s family and friends. It was the only place besides Wakanda he felt peace. He play fought with AJ and Cass while balancing the cake he brought. It was the first time in a long time he had actually felt at peace, happy. But there was still something missing and he knew exactly what it was- Y/N. After the cookout, Bucky stood with Sam and watched the sun go down. Bucky looked at Sam with a half smile.

“You’re going to go after her, aren’t you?” Sam asks knowingly. He always had a sort os sixth sense when it came to reading people.

Bucky nodded, “I have to.” He replied with the same half-smile, “I promised Steve I would take care of her. Now that everything is right again, I have to find her.”

Sam placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “I think we both know that it’s about more than just a promise to Steve. Let me know if you need help. A lot of people think of her a deserter after she disappeared but you two will always have a place here.” He said with a smile before returning to be with his sister and nephews.

It took Bucky a long time to find clues of Y/N’s whereabouts. Even with Sharon pardoned and trying to help, she informed him Y/N had left Madripoor after her interaction with Sam. The last trace of her was somewhere in Alaska so that was where he went. He held up pictures of her face, asking if anybody had seen her. He eventually got lucky when an old lady smiled and said, “Oh, that’s Y/N! She lived here in Fairbanks for a few months but said she was moving to Selawik.” And with that information, Bucky made his way to Selawik. He wasn’t lead right to Y/N though. Selawik was a small town that had people scattered deep into the mountains. Bucky trekked through the arctic and eventually found traces of Y/N from katana marks on tree trunks as if she had still been training and using them for targets. When he came to a small cabin where loud 80’s rock music was blasting from, he knew he had found her. He started up the steps when a katana came flying from behind him and stuck into the wooden door. He looked at the katana, recognizing the colors of the handle immediately and turning to see Y/N standing behind him with her other katana in her hand, “Y/N.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, her features emotionless from under her hood. She walks up and pulls her katana from the door beside him, “What are you doing here, James?” She asks in a harsh tone before opening the door and walking into the cabin.

Bucky follows her, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I’ve been looking for you.” He said simply, watching as she went to turn the music off leaving them in silence. He watched her place her katanas on a table before she pulled off her jacket and snow pants, leaving her in blue jeans with a black sweater. He couldn’t lie- her calling him James after Tony’s funeral and now hurt his heart. She always called him Bucky so affectionately since he had introduced himself to her.

After stripping her layers, Y/N turned to look at Bucky, “I know.” She replied, “I saw everything with the Flag Smashers. You and Sam did good. Steve would be proud of the new Captain America. And he would be proud of you.”

Bucky nodded, slowly shimming off his own layers and placed them beside her’s leaving him in black jeans with a light blue long sleeved shirt, “Yeah… Thanks.” He muttered back before meeting her gaze, “What you saw in Madripoor… We needed Zemo’s help. He’s back in prison now.”

“Six feet under would’ve been better.” Y/N replied, folding her arms across her chest as she watched Bucky, “So what are you doing here now? Shouldn’t you be enjoying life as a hero? A new man?”

Bucky frowned a little at her words, “I promised Steve I would help you. I don’t break my promises. I think he kind of caught on about us…” He replied, crossing the space between them and placing his right hand on her arm, “You can come back to Louisiana with me. You would love it there.”

Y/N scanned her eyes across his features. Dammit. He still looked as good as he did the day she met him just a little more aged with those bits of brokenness behind his features, “He already knew about us. After you fell from the train I told him everything.” She informed before sighing at his request, “Is that what you want? Someone to play house with?”

Bucky dropped his hand from her arm and backed away a little at her words, running his fingers through his dark hair with a huff. Of course that’s what he wanted. He had always wanted her. He didn’t want this life for them. He wanted to come back from the military and settle down with Y/N, ask Steve if he could marry her but everything was so different now. They both weren’t the same people they were in the forties, “Look, I know we aren’t the same people we were before and I understand that you don’t care for me the same way anymore, but I still feel everything for you. And I promised Steve I would help you… So if you do end up in need of any help, I’ll be with Sam and whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He told her before turning to shrug his jacket back on.

Y/N sighs and looks around her cabin slowly, “You can’t leave. There’s a storm rolling in and you won’t make it two miles before you’re frozen.” She said, walking over to the kitchen and pulling out two beers, holding one out to him, “Might as well stay here until it dies down.”

Bucky watched her move to the couch before putting his jacket back where it was and taking the beer from her, “Thank you.” He said, opening the bottle and taking a seat at the small kitchen table she had.

Y/N sat across from him at the table, opening her own beer and taking a small sip before placing in in front of her on the table, “You’re wrong, you know?” She asks, watching as Bucky gave her a confused look, “I still care about you in the same way. It’s just everything we’ve been through,” She looks down to the table, “It’s different. I watched you fall from the train thinking you had died. Then decades later you come back not as yourself. I was there in Wakanda with you, helping you get back pieces of you and I still loved you. But then you were gone again because of the snap. I lost you again.” She shook her head slightly, looking up at the ceiling, “Then everything with Steve…”

Bucky listened to her, staring at her intently. His hand gripped the beer bottle roughly at her saying she still felt the same way towards him, “I know… You and I have been through more than anybody should have to.” He said before swallowing hard, “Steve loved you, Y/N. It was what he wanted. He deserved to live a life more than just trading a different war for another.”

“What about what I deserve? Or you?” Y/N asks, looking over at him. There was pain in her eyes and she wrinkled her nose as if to stop herself from crying, “I would’ve gone back with him if he asked but instead he left us here to figure the world out on our own, to figure out who we are when we aren’t not trying to save the world and I don’t know who that is, Bucky.”

Bucky nods, knowing the feeling all too well. They were lost in time, stuck in the present where neither felt like they belonged. Being thrown into situations where they had to save others instead of saving themselves, “I know how you feel.” He replied, looking at his beer bottle in his hands, “Sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore. Even with the Winter Soldier gone it’s like somewhere inside me… He’s still there.” He sighs before looking across the table at the girl he still loved and has never stopped loving, “The only time I feel like myself… The only time I feel like I’m Bucky is when I’m with you. You knew me as I was, who I was and when I look at you it feels like you’re my only hope of getting back to myself.”

Y/N listened to him, biting her bottom lip as she kept her gaze on him for a moment. The way those blue eyes looked at her, even if they were saddened, were the same blue eyes that were filled with love towards her. She sighs and stood up from the table, moving over to the fireplace that was crackling with a large flame, “I’m not the same person though.” She said softly, knowing he would hear her with his enhanced hearing, “I’m not the same girl. I'm not the girl that would jump into your arms and leave kisses all over your face, Bucky. I’m broken too.”

Bucky watched her move across the room as if to retreat from her feelings. The way she had stared into his eyes… He knew she still loved him just as much as he still loved her. He stood, crossing the room over to stand beside her. He gently took her hand in his, looking down at her as she turned her face to look up at him, “You’re not the same girl. And I’m not the same man. But you are still the person I love.” He told her, turning his body to face her’s and gently moved his other hand to sweep some hair from her face before gently pressing his lips to her forehead, “We can be broken together.”

__________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary @bibliophilewednesday @redhairedfeistynerd

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot

[gemkidsau]

Season Three

I made some posts on Tapas about this but I guess some people missed them, so the confused people in that crew, here is a screenshot of an explanation:

The original plan was to draw the entirety of season two before scheduling it all to post. But a handful of episodes in I got caught up in something else and by the time I had time to work on it again, I just couldn't. I tried and tried but I really just could not get back into it.

So continuing in my promise, here is season three:

Super watermelon island

Garnet sees Malachite surfacing on Mask Island so they go there and ambush her. Peridot stays behind to work on the drill and Rose volunteers to supervise her. Alexandrite defeats Malachite. Jasper is lost in the ocean again and Lapis is brought home, passed out.

Gem drill

Same plot but replace Steven with Rose.

Same old world

Lapis wakes up and Amethyst helps her process what she went through and finds a new home for her (similar plot but Amethyst has a different approach cause of her personality). She chooses the barn.

Barn mates

Peridot insists the barn belongs to her because she’s already been using it. Lapis insists it was promised to her even though Amethyst never actually said that and doesn’t own the barn in the first place. Amethyst decides this is going to be hilarious and makes popcorn. She soon realizes she’s too close to it for it to be funny so goes to solve the problem, but it’s harder than she anticipated. It generally follows the same plot though. The red eye shows up at the end and lapis flicks it.

Hit the diamond

Yeah this one’s the same.

Steven floats

Rose learns she can float.

Mr greg

Steven & Connie’s backstory (Never fleshed this out)

Too short to ride

TBH the same but replace Steven with Rose.

The new lars

Rose wakes up in the middle of the night in Pearl’s body. Terrified, she shakes herself awake, which triggers the switch back. Pearl wakes up groggy and asks Rose why she’s awake. She says she had a bad dream and they go back to sleep.

Beach city drift

The cool kids invited Lars to a party and he’s bragging about it. When Pearl and Amethyst show interest, Lars says little kids aren’t allowed. They fuse and try to keep Opal stable so they can attend the party.

Monster reunion

Rose figures out that she does, in fact, have healing powers. She’s sure it’s a Diamond thing, but thankful as heck it’s also a Rose Quartz thing. Rose says she should try and heal one of the monsters and Pearl says she should do corrupted Rose Quartz. Once CRQ is half healed, it’s the same plot switching Steven for Pearl. We get to learn about the Crystal Gems’ demise. They were fighting at the beach and where Beach City would eventually be built. A Quartz fusion chucked the warp pad to prevent further backup from arriving. Rose notices a Nephrite receiving orders to retreat and looks up to see the diamond attack. The warp pad lands on the Nephrite. Rose doesn’t have a means to protect her friends(sword instead of shield), so they all succumb to the attack. (exit flashback) Rose runs to the temple, but can’t get in. Pearl lets her in. Pink Rose is in there like “wat happen why.” (Maybe CRQ finds something in the chest? IDK where to go from here.)

Alone at sea

Peridot is sad because Lapis is sad and she can’t figure out how to make not sad so she asks Garnet for help. Garnet takes Lapis into the ocean and does her best to show her more of the beauty of Earth. Lapis is finally starting to cheer up when Jasper sneaks up on them and begs on her knees to become Malachite again. Lapis tells her no and makes her leave. Garnet and Lapis go home wary.

Greg the babysitter

Sour Cream is excited because his baby brother is being born today. The gems are like what is a baby. We learn that gems don’t start out quite that small. They theorize that since humans only incubate for 9 months, they don’t develop as far. Gems incubate for years. They come out as 5-year-olds ish. Then Connie wonders if gems were to incubate for a very long time, would they form as adults? The gems laugh at such an idea. :^)

Gem hunt

Connie is getting very good at being close to danger even though she can’t fight or anything, so when she hears the gems are going to the frozen North, she insists on tagging along to supervise. The gems think that’s stupid but they aren’t gonna say no to Mom. Connie and Garnet get separated from Pearl, Amethyst, and Rose. While separated, Connie actually helps Garnet take out one of the beasts. Pearl, Amethyst, and Rose encounter Jasper, who poofs their beast and walks off menacingly as Connie and Garnet find them. (Rose summons her shield for the first time when trying to protect her teammates)

Crack the whip

Amethyst loses a sparring match to Pearl for the first time and is super self conscious about it.

Steven vs amethyst

Amethyst internalizes the problem instead of confronting Pearl.

Bismuth (This is out of order. Should happen before Monster Reunion)

Rose asks why she doesn’t have a room in the temple yet and the gems are like yeah that’s chill we have another spot go for it. She makes her room and to her surprise there’s already stuff in it. The other gems are like yeah there were a few things in our rooms too. We think they’re left over from the previous owners. Stuff like swords and relics. But Rose has some peculiar items in her room. There’s a chest, a sword, a flag, and a bubble. Rose likes the sword and wants to use it in battle.

Beta

Amethyst still feels like shit so Rose takes her to Peridot and Peridot takes them to the beta kindergarten. Same plot.

Earthlings

We find out that even though Jasper was originally made for Yellow, since she was young when PD emerged she was actually training to be given to Pink.

Back to the moon

Same plot mostly. The other gems hear for the first time (from the rubies) that Pink Diamond was shattered on Earth. ‘Who would do such a thing?’ It was a Rose Quartz. All eyes on Rose. Not having planned for this, she panics and runs downstairs. Pearl says she’ll talk to her since she’s closest to her and asks the other to continue helping the rubies without her.

Bubbled

Pearl talks to Rose about what they’re going to tell the others. They decide Rose was bubbled and when Pink returned to Earth in search of her Pearl, she released Rose. Rose asked who she was and she told her she’s a Diamond. Rose is a Crystal Gem so she identified her as a threat and took the opportunity to strike. Soon the others return but their cover (pretending to be homeworld gems for the rubies) is blown at the last second. Rose opens the airlock to blow them into space and one of them grabs her, trying to pull her with them, but she escapes the ruby’s grasp safely.

#gem kids au #suau #steven universe

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday

SO OKAY, MY MOTIVATION NEEDS A SLIGHT EXPLANATION! I was going to write a oneshot because I needed to write something with a thirsty character so that wrong vibe didn’t bleed over into my other fic (which it was for no reason). So I wrote my aged-up pre-calamity oneshot, la-di-da, but then I added 10000 words, and then I added notes, and then I added a post calamity scene, and honestly, now I think I accidently created a mini fic that I think I’m going to go to write instead of leaving it as a oneshot now. Yep. 

The plot is basically that Link and Zelda’s relationship starts backwards, where they meet each other at a tavern not knowing who the other is and then spend the night together, and then according to my new notes (because that wasn’t enough, apparently), they have to awkwardly work together.

So... uh... here’s the beginning of the random M rated Zelda fic I started 😅! It’s totally unedited, but I’m throwing it here into the wind because it’s Wednesday and I don’t know if it’s worth continuing or not!

/

Zelda had rarely been bold.

Stubborn? Of course. Determined? Absolutely. But bold? Not so much.

Which is why she never expected to wake up in a cheap bed in a tavern halfway across Hyrule Field next to a strange man she’d only met the night before with all their clothes scattered along the wood floor. She especially didn’t expect to be comfortable in his arms and not rushing to get out before anyone could see her awkward walk back towards the stables with hair that was just too messy and clothes that were too wrinkled.

She was nervous that this man would wake up and regret their night together, or worse… recognize who she really was.

She’d like to blame it on the drinks they’d shared in the tavern below the inn at the stables, but in truth, she’d barely had enough to feel a buzz, and it had been hours before they’d gone to her room.

No, she had a strong feeling that her sudden boldness was coming from a place that longed for the freedom that was about to be taken away from her the next day. She wanted to do one final rebellious act before resigning herself accepting a permanent guard, forced into constant prayer, allowed to do little to no research, and more time being locked in her room because it was too dangerous elsewhere.

She was the Princess of Hyrule, and here she was sneaking around the outskirts of Hyrule Field, longing for an escape that she’d never be allowed again after tomorrow. Running away had been her first thought, but with the portended return of the Calamity, she knew she couldn’t shirk her duties that much. She at least had to keep trying to unlock her powers until the very last moment, if need be. Hopefully, sooner.

She’d planned it all so carefully, and yet none of it had turned out as she’d expected; her closest maid knew that she was going to run away for one night only, to find a sense of freedom before she was trapped. Her maid would cover for her, and she’d return the next day before the dreaded meeting would take place.

Zelda wasn’t concerned about showing her face freely at the inn. For years, she’d either been out of the public eye, deep in prayer, or quite literally veiled and sheltered from untoward influences because the Hylian Priests claimed that wearing a veil made her pure enough for the Goddess’ power to awaken inside her because she’d be shielded from outside influence. Whatever the ridiculous reason was, she was glad of it now. It allowed her this rogue act of freedom.

Typically, she simply didn’t go out in public, only familiar to those who lived or worked in the castle. There was a slim chance any of them would be permitted out this far from their post, and if they were, even they might not be able to tell if it was really her.

Because, of course, it wasn’t usually her out there. Her trusted body double stepped into most public events where Zelda’s voice wasn’t required. It had become a part of their routine since the attacks on Zelda’s life grew more frequent.

So, the number of people who would recognize her face was limited only to her most inner of circles. Freely exposed as she was actually provided her more cover. The princess without her veil? The princess without her escort? The princess this far from the castle?

Well, it must be someone else then.

But here she was in her rented room for the night with a young man who didn’t seem to sense her charade, bringing him into her world as part of an act that she knew had the potential to go very, very wrong if she wasn’t careful.

It had hardly been her fault, though. He’d practically charmed his way into her bed.

Well, that was giving him too much credit. From what Zelda could tell, it was a natural charm coupled with heroic timing. He got too tongue tied in her presence, and he’d had too much initial hesitance to pursue romance for her to believe he’d put on any charm with the intention of ending up in bed beside her.

It started when Zelda had been sitting at her table in the tavern the night before, minding her own business nursing a drink, when a rowdy group of drunkards at the next table over had relentlessly complimented her. Compliments that are only polite in a drunk mind, and only given with poor intentions.

She’d made the barmaid aware of their persistence and noticed her and the other staff checking in on her, so she didn’t feel unsafe, just uncomfortable. Because they ordered another round of drinks and began again.

Zelda held her head in her hand and took another sip of her drink, hoping that her mind would eventually drown them out.

“There you are!”

Zelda’s heart leapt out of her chest, ready to bolt out the door at the notion of being caught here. But standing over her was an unfamiliar man with messy, long blonde hair tied back in a horrible ponytail that hardly did any good, staring at her with bright, cerulean blue eyes. He held a sword in his hand, the hilt of it wrapped in parchment and twine, almost as if it were newly purchased, save for the exposed blade. But he held it away from her, not a threat, just a possession, like many others in the tavern carried. He wore a layer of visible chainmail under a quarter sleeved shirt, a style of mail that was particular to the Knights of Hyrule.

Zelda made a face, and the man took a deliberate step to the side to block the view of the unruly group. “I thought you forgot we were going to meet. That was tonight, right?”

His eyes shone with a hidden question, and she sagged in relief that he hadn’t figured out who she was. Or, he hadn’t let on. “Yes! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you at your table. Would you like to sit here? Or is there a spot where you were sitting?”

“There’s a spot,” he said with a polite nod, pulling her chair out for her and leading her to where he’d been earlier. He went to sit, but stopped and moved around to the other side of the table, changing seats.

Zelda turned to see what reason he might have had.

He took the seat facing the glares of the group, letting Zelda’s back be to them.

“My hero,” she whispered with a grin, finally sitting.

“I can leave in a few minutes,” he’d said to her. “It just looked like they were bothering you. Well, sounded it, anyway.”

And in that moment, Zelda felt a weight lift off her chest. She was safe. This wasn’t a knight sent from her father to bring her back home, this wasn’t him getting her away so he could call her Princess and let her know she was being watched for her protection. This was just a soldier in her kingdom being a decent human being. One who was willing to leave her alone. No knight who knew she was the princess would dare to leave her alone in a tavern.

“They were. Thank you.”

The young man set his sword down and waved over the barmaid to let her know Zelda had moved, before paying for Zelda’s drink as an apology for the behavior she’d had to endure. Zelda hadn’t even had the chance to stop him before the rupees were out.

When he’d settled and they’d ordered some drinks, he discretely held out his hand to shake hers.

“Sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself. Link.”

“Zelda,” she’d responded, taking his hand. But she was too quick, and cursed herself for not using a fake name. Gratefully, there were likely at least three ‘Zeldas’ in this room alone thanks to the popularity of it, and no alarms seemed to go off in his mind, because he smiled and sat back comfortably.  

Zelda glanced around the room, still unfamiliar with most of the intricacies of a place like this. There was a clearly defined group of people who wandered around with trays of food and drink in their hands, much like the servants of the palace did. They were far less formal and uptight than she was used to seeing, but it was refreshing in many ways. One brought her and Link their drinks, and Zelda nursed a cheap, watered down wine while she looked at the other patrons.

A young woman was checking in with the owner, scratching his head in confusion while the innkeeper explained something, gesturing around in the process. The men at another table beside her had just been given their third fill of alcohol, though Zelda didn’t know enough to recognize it on sight unless it were wine, and it wasn’t.  The woman playing the fiddle on the stage tapped her foot to the beat, and Zelda longed to know whether it was conscious or subconscious.

These were her people. Full of life, or sickeningly drunk, whether polite or rude…these were the ones who would die if she failed to unlock her power to seal the Calamity.  

The thought made her sick. Even here, she couldn’t escape the pressure of duty.

#wip wednesday #legend of zelda #link #Zelda #zelink #loz #writing #it’s rated M #mild harassment #this is why I have 700 fics going #impulse control #i can’t just write a oneshot can I?

[thicctails]

Summer Of Whump Day 18 [Collapse/Beaten]

This one is such a mix of fluff and whump, I love it!

Ω

 “She’s so pretty! Do you think she’ll let me do her hair?”

 “He’s so pale… is that normal for humans?”

 “For some of us, yes.”

 “I think they’re waking up…”

 “Oh, Tiger’s right! Step back, little ones.”

 Omega groaned softly, blinking blearily. The Force nudged her, urging her to open her eyes. She obliged, opening her eyes and allowing her vision to come into focus. Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted a scaly, toothy muzzle right in front of her face. She yelped and scrambled back, tripping over something. She heard a grunt from beneath her, and a quick glance down revealed that it was Cal that she had tripped over. The duo quickly moved into a defensive position, her back against his as they called out to the Force.

 A group of people had surrounded them, all from varying species. They were all different ages as well, ranging from a mature adult to a young toddler. They didn’t look aggressive, but they hadn’t ended up here on accident, so Omega remained on guard. She’d learned to not trust strangers at this point, no matter how friendly they seemed. The eldest member of the group, a Togruta, if her memory served her correctly, raised her hands.

 “Easy, young ones. We’re not going to hurt you.” She said.

 Omega reeled back at first, remembering hearing that same voice when she had been grabbed, but found herself unwilling to stay angry when she felt a wave of calm being sent to her through the Force. She felt Cal relax, and decided that she would put her trust in his comfort.

 “C-crèshe Master Mirthver?” Cal’s voice held a trembling note of blinding hope. The Togruta nodded.

 “It is wonderful  to see you alive and well, young Ketsis.” She smiled, opening her arms. The padawan launched himself at her, sinking into the hug like his life depended on it.

 Omega had no idea what a Crèshe Master was, but she’d gathered enough information to figure out that the woman was definitely a Jedi. Around her, she heard the Force hiss irritably, and it urged her to get up and get away from the Togruta. But one look at Cal’s relieved expression made her decision for her. If staying with this Jedi and her little group for a bit meant that her friend got to be happy, then the Force would simply have to suck it up.

 “I can’t believe it! I- I thought for sure that you were dead!” He cried, burring himself on her robes.

 “I am very much alive, as are some of those under my care.” Mirthver’s voice turned sad. “But not as many as there should be. I was not able to save them all.”

 “You did the best you could. I know you did.” Cal whispered.

 The Togruta smiled softly, and Omega could feel her Force signature thrum with comfort. She looked towards Omega, her smile still on her face even as a tinge of confusion.

 “Who are you, little one? I don’t remember ever seeing you at the temple.” She said, looking Omega over.

 “That’s because she never was. Omega is a clone.” Cal explained, pulling back from the hug.

 “What?!” A voice snapped.

 The Force buzzed with danger as Omega heard something flare to life behind her. She leapt back, falling off of the bed she had been sitting on. Just in time too, as a bright yellow lightsaber swung down on the place where she had just been.

 “Chex!” Master Mirthver yelled, pulling Omega into her arms.

 Cal’s eyes flashed dangerously and he growled. The Force buzzed with anger, and suddenly there was a crash and a grunt. Omega looked over her shoulder to see a human boy holding his head, a discarded lightsaber clattering to the ground. Cal pulled Omega into a protective hug, and she could feel that he was shaking. Actually, they both were.

 Someone rushed over to where Chex lay, her muzzle pulled back into a concerned frown. She grabbed the lightsaber and tucked it away in a pocket before checking up on the boy. Chex groaned and rubbed his head, glaring at Cal and Omega.

 “What the hell?! Why are you defending a karking clone?!” He hissed.

“Chex Varren!” The Togruta’s voice boomed as she stood. Cal and Omega shuffled to the side, and Cal cringed in shame at the tone of her voice, even if her ire was not directed at him. “We do not attack innocents! And watch your language, there are younglings here!”

 “Innocents?!” He balked. “She’s. A. Clone! You know, the people who betrayed us and murdered our entire Order?!”

 “Does she look like a murderer to you?” The woman gestured to Omega, who shrunk back under Chex’s gaze.

 “It doesn’t matter what she looks like.” He spat venomously, getting to his feet. “A clone’s a clone, and clones are monsters.”

 “No we’re not!” Omega defended, her chest puffing up in defensive rage. “It’s the inhibitor chips! They’re what made everyone go bad! They didn’t want to betray you!”

 “Lies! You’re lying!” Chex snarled. “I’m not going to let you trick me, and I’m not going to let you hurt my family!”

 “I don’t want to hurt your family!” Omega exploded, the Force crackling around her. It wanted her out, wanted her away from the danger.

 “ENOUGH!”

 Master Mirthver stepped in between the two bristling children. She pointed a finger towards a tunnel entrance, and Omega realized that she wasn’t sitting in a room, but a well lit cave.

 “Go scout the perimeter. We need to make sure the actual threat hasn’t managed to find us.” She commanded.

 The padawan slunk away, scowling as he went. His hand raised, and his lightsaber snapped into his grasp. The furry person that had been checking him over stepped aside, scowling at him.

 “Dick.” She muttered, and Omega blinked at the insult.

 The scowling teen turned to Omega, and her face became infinitely softer.

 “Sorry about him, he’s a jerk even on the best of days.” She said, kneeling down to that she was eye level with Omega. Cal released her from his protective hold, the Force settling as the tension in the air dissipated. She had brilliant white fur and piercing blue eyes, a headpiece adorned with crystals looped around her pointed ears. “I’m Ebba Freclo, but everyone calls me Ebby.”

 “I’m… Omega.” Omega said, reaching out a hand, as she knew that was what was considered to be polite. Ebby smiled and extended her own paw, shaking Omega’s hand.

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you. The Light shines so brightly in you.” Ebby complimented.

 “Thanks?” Omega glanced at Cal, wondering if that was the right response. He nodded.

 “It’s a good thing. The Light guides us down the right path.”

 Omega nods, before looking at Master Mirthver. “Um, why are we here? I mean, you could have just came and said hello.”

 “Ah, yes, I apologize for our… less than favourable methods of getting you here.” She said, sounding a bit sheepish, “But we had to be sure that strange looking clone couldn’t sneak up on us.”

 “Crosshair? But he-” She cut herself off, taking a moment to imagine what Crosshair might do if he came back to find them talking to a bunch of lightsaber-wielding strangers. “Okay, fair enough. But we need to go back. He’s gonna be worried about us!”

 “Wait, you were with him willingly?” Ebby questioned. Cal nodded.

 “He saved our lives. We got captured by the Empire, and he got us out. His chip is malfunctioning for some reason.” He explained.

 “And now we’re trying to contact his brothers so that they can come get us.” Omega added.

 “You’re not staying?” A tiny voice piped up.

 Omega looked down and saw a Nautolan girl looking up at her with wide, sad eyes. She was a rich purple with pale cream markings, dressed in a soft green tunic and brown pants. A bracelet was fastened around her wrist, a chunk of the same crystal as the teen had attached to the simple brown accessory.

 “Well…” Omega glanced at Cal, who was giving the youngling with the scaly muzzle a hug. He mouthed “just a bit longer”, and Omega sighed.

 “Crosshair’s gonna have our heads for this- okay, we’ll stay for a little bit longer.” She conceded.

 Cheers erupted from the gathered younglings. The Nautolan girl and a young Wookie grabbed Omega’s hands and pulled her away.

 “Come on! Let’s make flower crowns!” The girl squeaked happily.

 Omega laughed and let herself be pulled away.

 “Will you train with us? Me and Tiger are gonna practise tree hopping.” The scaly girl asked Cal.

 “I guess I could. Don’t expect me to be very good though.” Cal smiled, letting himself be pulled along.

   Omega quickly picked up the skill of flower crown making, her hands easily threading the stems. The two younglings chatted on either side of her, although she needed translations for what the Wookie was saying. They told her about everyone who lived in their little hidden crèshe. There was Crèshe Master Azeu Mirthver, Ebba the Bothan, Tiger the Dathomirian, Javeri the Wookie, Xanbi the Nautolan, Chex the Human, Beska the Barabel, and Chi the Togorian. Tiger, Ebby, and Chex were padawans, with Ebby almost ready to become a Jedi Knight. Javerie, Xanbi, Beska, and Chi were still younglings, Beska being the oldest at 10, and Chi being the youngest, only a few months old.

 “What’s it like living with a baby?” Omega asked.

 “It’s hard. He’s always putting out his emotions, which means you’re either feeling really happy, really tired, or really upset. Me an’ Javeri can’t watch him for too long because we can’t put shields up yet.” Xanbi sighed.

 “And he cries when he’s upset! He’s really loud!” Javeri rumbled, Xanbi translating.

 “Sounds awful.” Omega frowned.

 “It’s not all bad.” Xanbi said, examining her flower crown. “He’s really cute, and he’s fun to play with when he’s happy.”

 “Why isn’t he out here with us?” Omega asked.

 “Chi’s too little to make flower crowns!” Xanbi and Javeri giggled.

 “Oh.” Omega said simply. “I didn’t know. I’ve never actually seen a baby before.”

 “What?” Javeri questioned. “Didn’t you see baby clones?”

 “No, clones aren’t sent out until they’re physically around your age.” Omega explained. “The Kaminoans do something to make them grow up twice as fast.”

 “How old are you?” Xanbi looked up at Omega.

 “5 and a half years old.” She replied.

 “WHAT!” Both younglings yelped.

 “You’re younger than me!” Javeri warbled.

 “You’re, like, a little kid!” Xanbi said, dumbfounded.

 “Remember, I age twice as fast as you do.” Omega reminded them.

 “Why?” Xanbi asked.

 Xanbi’s question made Omega’s face turn sad.

 “Because clones were made for war. They wanted us to grow up fast so that we could go and fight. If I was a regular clone, I’d be sent off to fight in a few years.” She said softly.

 “That’s horrible!” Javeri said. “You can’t make little kids fight! That’s a grown-up thing!”

 “It should be.” Omega agreed. “But to the Republic and the Kaminoans, the clones were grown ups.”

 The two younglings looked at each other in utter disbelief.

 “We’ll change it!” Javeri stated in a serious voice, or at least as serious as a 6 year old could be. “One day, we’ll be big! And we’ll make sure no kids ever have to fight, clones or not!”

 Omega gave them hopeful smiles. These kids were the future of the Jedi, and if they could learn from past mistakes, Omega thought that future would be pretty bright.

   Cal panted as he leaned against the tree for support. Beside him, Tiger crouched on the branch, the tree limb still shaking from when he had landed. The peach-coloured Dathomirian smiled at him, his milky white eyes shining in the mid-day sun. How a blind boy could jump and land so gracefully, Cal would never know.

 “How,” He sucked in a deep breath, “how do you do this so easily?”

 “I rely on the Force.” Tiger said with his feather-soft voice. “It guides me. I can feel it constantly.”

 “Yeah?” Cal huffed, sweat dripping down his neck. “You and Omega would get along great.”

 “The Force loves her. It sings with joy when she’s happy and thunders with anger when she’s not. I could feel its anger when Chex tried to attack her.” Tiger mused. “It won’t let you two stay, you know.”

 “What?” Confusion rippled through Cal. What did that mean?

 “It wants her to leave, to get away from us. I don’t know why, but her place isn’t here. But she won’t leave without you, and it doesn’t want her to be alone.” He explained.

 “How do you know this?” Cal asked.

 “I told you, I’m always feeling the Force. She has bonded to you, which is unheard of. Padawans don’t even form bonds like that with other padawans, let alone random Force-sensitives.” Tiger gave him a knowing look. “But you don’t seem to be to keen on the idea of severing the bond while you still can.”

 It was true, he didn’t want to loose his connection to Omega. She was a source of comfort in a sea of turmoil, a guiding star to keep him on the Light’s path. He wanted to be the same for her as well, someone that she could go to when she was at her lowest. So what if this wasn’t the Jedi way? The Order was gone, its members left scattered to the wind. The Code, he figured, could be broken a bit if it meant that himself and others might make it to adulthood, to be able to grow up and become the next generation of Jedi.

 “Cal!”

 He looks down, and there she is, holding a ring of golden and orange flowers, a crown of her own adorning her head, petals of blue and purple hues creating a halo of colour.

 “I made you a flower crown! Come down here so that I can put it on you!” She chirped.

 A warmth blooms in his chest, and he wonders how the idea of him leaving her can even exist in someone’s mind. Tiger laughs beside him.

“You’re so open around her. Perhaps Master Mirthver can teach you both to reign in your emotions.” He suggests as Cal begins to climb down. “You two are like beacons in the Force when you’re together, it’s how we found you today. If we could track you using your Force signature, so could someone less friendly.”

 Cal paused at that. Tiger had a point. If the Jedi had been able to find them, then a Sith definitely could. His stomach roiled in fear at that thought, and he accidentally sent his emotions through his and Omega’s bond.

 “Cal?” Omega called, worry in her voice. “You alright?”

 “I’m fine!” He called back, shoving his fears into a small place deep down in his chest. Hopefully, she’d think that his emotions had come from him being up so high.

 “Do you need help?”

 “No, no I got it!”

 He shimmied his way down, jumping off once he was low enough. He gave her a reassuring grin, and she returned it with a smile of her own.

 “Here!” She chirped, placing the flower crown on his head. “I made this for you!”

 He let her put the flowers on his head, bowing his head a bit so she could position it easier. The ring of bright gold and orange sat lightly on his hair, just snug enough to not slide off when he moved.

 “It’s beautiful, thank you.” He said sincerely, reaching up to feel the soft petals.

 “You look so pretty.” Omega gushed.

 Cal sputters at that, his cheeks flushing red. “Y-you don’t call boys p-pretty, Omega!”

 She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What? Says who?”

 Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “You know… people.”

 Omega snorted. “I don’t care what “people” think, Cal. I think that you’re pretty, and that’s that.” She said, booping his nose.

 He blinked, going cross-eyed as he tried to look at where she’d tapped him. Her boldness was stunning, and he found himself feeling a bit more okay about being called pretty.

 “You’re pretty too, ‘mega.” He murmured, and he felt his breath stutter at the electric burst of fondness that exploded across their bond.

 “You think so?” She asked shyly, although it seemed like she didn’t know why she suddenly felt shy.

 “Yeah. Prettiest girl I know.” He said, confident in his answer. If he could make her feel that happy just by giving her a compliment, than he would do it far more often.

 Omega beamed at him, her honey-brown eyes positively sparkling.

 “If you two start making out, I’m actually going to be sick.”

 Chex’s voice shattered their shared serenity. Cal whipped around, missing how Omega’s face wrinkled in confusion. He glared at the older boy, his green eyes turning sharp.

 “If you say something like that again, I’m actually going to punch your teeth in.” Cal mimicked Chex’s tone of voice as he made his irritation clear.

 “Oooh, I’m so scared.” Chex put his hands up in mock surrender. “Like you could even reach my teeth. You’re such a runt, you’d have to jump.”

 “That’s not very Jedi-like of you, Chex.” Cal hissed.

 “Yeah well, neither is your attachment.” The older padawan draws out the last word teasingly.

 Cal opens his mouth to retort, but suddenly he feels a sharp pang of panic ring out from Omega. Chex turned his head, raising an eyebrow in mildly disinterested confusion as he looked at her.

 “What’s wrong with yo-”

 “GET DOWN!”

 Omega launched forward, tackling Chex to the ground. A screech pierced Cal’s ears, and he stumbled back as a creature burst through the canopy, smashing into the ground where Chex had been seconds ago. Its tail whipped him, sending Cal to the ground. He grunted in pain, curling up into a defensive ball. Clutching his stomach, he could only watch as the beast reared up, snarling.

 It was a winged equine, skinny and malnourished with shining blue fur. Dark purple spots that reminded Cal of eyes dotted the animal’s body. It had three talon-like toes, and its wickedly sharp claws dug into the dry earth. A set of powerful feathered wings beat wildly, their teal and pink feathers gusting up dust. Rectangular pupils honed in on Omega and Chex, the black blocks standing out admits the creature’s yellow and orange eyes.

 The creature lunged for Omega, dragging her up by her foot and tossing her to the ground. Omega screamed, and Cal could feel his own back explode with pain as she hit the dirt. Fear drove him to try and get up, but he found himself unable to. A warm wetness was beginning to form under his hands, and he instinctively applied pressure. Helpless, he watched horrified as the winged animal kicked at her, it’s sharp hooves slicing through her shirt and leaving bloody marks behind.

 “Nrgh! Get away from her!” He shouted, trying to draw the animals attention off of her.

 The equine payed him no mind, grabbing at Omega again. It’s wicked fangs closed around her leg, and he felt himself pale when he saw rivets of blood dribble down the beast’s thick neck. Omega was howling in pain at this point, and the sound broke his heart and made him feel like the lowest scum for not being able to help her.

 “HEY FEATHER-FACE!”

 The animal jerked it’s head to the right. A dusty, angry Chex. His yellow lightsaber crackled fiercely, the glow reflecting off of a stream of blood that dripped down his face from a gash on the side of his head.

 “Eat lightsaber!” He yelled, swinging his weapon at the feathered equine. He managed to hit a wingtip, and the creature shrieked, dropping Omega. She hit the ground with a thud, and he saw her eyes go wide as the air rushed out of her lungs.

 The aggravated animal snapped and snarled at the teen, the two circling each other. Chex darted forward, slicing into the creature’s flank. It roared and whipped its head around, grabbing Chex’s arm and tossing the teen away. Suddenly, Tiger leapt out of the tree above the animal with a yell, landing on it’s back and grabbing its ears. The equine bucked and brayed, trying to throw Tiger off of its back. Tiger moved to grab his lightsaber, but the animal took advantage of his distraction and swung its tail around and struck Tiger in the head. The Dathomirian yelped in pain and fell, gasping in pain when a hoof struck him in the chest.

 The animal was heaving at this point, foamy saliva coating its jaws. It staggered in pain, its injured wing twitching as it made an odd wheezing sound. It lowered its head, growling at the ground as it continued to sway and twitch. Omega let out a high pitched whine, and the animal’s attention snapped towards her. It bellowed and reared up, its hooves poised to come down directly on her chest. Cal closed his eyes and jerked his head away, unwilling to watch his only friend in the whole galaxy die right in front of him.

 Bam!

 The beast fell silent, then Cal heard a loud thud as it hit the ground. His eyes flew open, his vision now filled with bright blue fur. The animal wasn’t breathing. As quickly as he possibly could, he lifted himself up as much as possible. His ears were full of the sound of his own heart pounding, but he was vaguely aware of the sounds of the other Padawans making noises of pain and calling out for Master Mirthver. His head tilted upwards, and he nearly sobbed in relief when he saw an armored figure crouched on a high up branch.

 Crosshair’s presence brought a sense of much needed safety, especially as fatigue grabbed Cal in its iron-clad grip. His head his the dirt again, darkness starting to seep into his vision. As the world faded away, he saw Crosshair rush towards them, unable to decide which child he should attend to first. He must have seemed more injured, because he was soon scooped up into a secure hold and brought closer to Omega. He blinked as Crosshair began speaking in Mando’a, his words too fast and Cal’s hearing too muted to be understood. His head lolled to the side, his cheek resting on Crosshair’s scuffed armor. Omega stared back at him, her eyes full of pain. She was panting shallowly, tears dripping down her face. He reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it as he slipped into unconsciousness.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump[18] #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars #omega bad batch #cal ketsis #crosshair bad batch #jedi oc #padawan oc #youngling oc #whump #tw blood #tw injury #tw animal death #tw animal harm #tw child harm

[a-templars-vice]

A Templar's Vice

Part 10 - "Playing with fire"

A Cullen Rutherford x F!OC Apostate Witch Dragon Age: Inquisition - fanfiction.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: contains subject matter that maybe triggering for the vulnerable or victims of abuse and trauma.

Also contains alcohol, drugs (alludes to substance abuse), detailed lewd and violent scenes.

Reader's discretion is advised

Link to Master List

---------------------------

It was closing in on the day they had to leave for Orlais and go to the winter palace where peace talks were happening…

Dorian and the inquisitor saw what Corypheus had planned to set a terrible future in motion. The empress of Orlias was killed by Corypheus’ forces. They needed to go not only to gain support to help combat Corypheus’ massive forces from Orlais, but to hopefully stop the assassination of the Empress…

It was fortunate that the inquisitor and Dorian had apparently seen the future when they went to help out the rebel mages back at Redhold. They got a glimpse at Corypheus’ plan…

Before… Heaven fell to Corypheus… and is now buried under a mountain worth of snow…

Cullen felt a huge pang of guilt and shame for not being able to fight back… Because Corypheus had a bloody dragon– an archdemon on his side… As well as a red templar monster army accompanied by dark spawn, demons, and abominations the archdemon controls– which Corypheus controls… Also Corypheus had been creating the rifts as well– which were giving him an endless supply of demons from the Fade to use…

The odds were truly stacked against them but…

Next time… he won’t run away. He does not want to…

Cullen was getting extremely nervous and had a headache… Though not bad as usual but still annoying…

He really wanted his demon witch to go with him, but he remembered what was a part of their deal…

Their contract…

“Do not put me or this girl’s body into any real danger.”

And into danger is where they were going…

…

“For Corypheus!”

Grand Duchess Florianne shouted as suddenly a slew of guards started to attack anyone who was not on Corypheus’ side.

It turned out she was the assassin.

Some of the guards turned into abominations as well.

It was chaos– Just like what happened when he was stationed at Kirkwall…

“Cullen, protect the people– I will go after Florianne!”

The inquisitor commanded.

Culled nodded.

“Alright! Take care inquisitor!”

Cullen ran off to find a weapon. He was not allowed to bring his sword and shield with him…

He tore off a halbird from one of the armored statues and started to fight off the abominations and turned Red Templar guards.

This was not good… So many people were killed already…

Cullen was trying to fight off some abominations, and he saw some helpless people about to be killed.

Maker! No!

Cullen would not be able to save them–

The abominations and guards suddenly bursted into black flames. They screamed and cried out in angoy as they were reduced to nothing.

It happened so fast.

‘Maker! What the–’

A woman dressed in all black wearing a long cloak with a cape wearing a raven mask to hide her face appeared and spoke in a familiar calm soothing voice.

“My my… I did not expect Orlaians to adopt Tevinter party customs and entertainment…”

Cullen thought he was going mad. She’s here but…

“I-I thought you could not come here.”

“Hmm…? Why not?”

“Because–”

More abominations and guards came to attack. She moved gracefully and dispatched them all quickly– with her magical black fire.

Cullen involtarty raised an arm to defend against nothing.

She looked pointedly at him.

“Because it’s dangerous? Ha! This is nothing compared to a Tevinter gathering going wrong… The abominations are much bigger and scary…”

An abomination tried to sneak up on her, thinking she was distracted by talking to Cullen, but she snapped her fan closed and the abomination’s body snapped along with the closing of the fan.

Cullen cringed.

“Maker’s breath!”

She chuckled as she reopened  her fan and was casually fanning herself. As if she did not have a care in the world about the chaos and death going on around them.

“Well…”

She raised a pointer finger at Cullen that had a fancy purple jewel increscested in a black ornate ring.  Then flicked her finger to one side and Cullen’s weapon’s blade turned pitch black.

“What did you do?”

“Hit something and find out… and I would recommend to… keep that blade away from cutting yourself… or anything you care about.”

Cullen was confused but he knew she was here to help. No time to think too hard about this…

They have abominations to slay and people to save.

…

Cullen struck the blackened blade of his halberd into an abomination.

The wound he inflicted bursted into a bright blue fire that quickly spread and consumed the monster.

Maker’s breath!

“Oooo yours is such a pretty color!”

“What?”

“The fire of your soul– it’s a pretty color.”

“Is… that what that is?!”

The fire of his soul?

Wait a minute. He still has his soul? But their contract–

A few more abominations appeared and she summoned black fire to consume them.

Well… demons do not have souls so… he guessed a flame void of light and the opposite of what a soul might produce made sense…

He needed to ask her about their contract later…

Like didn’t he sell it to her? Has she not taken it yet and why?

So many questions but a really bad time to think about this and ask them.

She broke him out from his thoughts– pointing at something and said calmly.

“Behind you…”

Cullen turned around and quickly dispatched a Red Templar who was dressed as an Orlaisian Guard. The fire did not spread as much nor quickly– due to templars being magic resistant, but Cullen’s powerful swings were enough to take them down.

…

There were only Red Templars now, but they were much much more difficult to take down…

“Ahhh! I cannot take them down quick enough… They’re resistant to my magic…”

“Don’t worry I will–”

“Cullen, you cannot fight them all by yourself…”

“Don’t worry I can handle it, just get to somewhere you’ll be safe.”

He started to leave.

“Cullen! Wait–”

He stopped surprise at the sound of… desperation in her voice… she was always calm so that caught him off guard…

He turned around to look at her and spoke softly towards her. 

“What is it?”

“I cannot fight them… but…”

She raised her arm and cut into it with a sharp ring she wore on her other pointer finger.

“What in the maker’s name are you doing?!”

He was going to lunge to stop her but then she spoke.

“It’s alright… You see… I am calling my… Pets…”

“Your… pets?”

She smiled– then as her bloody arm was raised she spoke in a language Cullen did not understand nor recognize. Her voice sounded strange as well… She was using blood magic to summon… Something…

Cullen then heard it.

Growling. Like a mabari hound, but only much much larger, and there were many of them…

But he could not see them. But he could feel whatever she had summoned… were here…

“I might not be able to fight the Red Templars effectively but… they can…”

…

Cullen with his demon witch mistress were able to save a lot more people than he could have on his own.

“Aww… Is it over already? Sheesh… this goes on for much longer and a lot more blood at a Tervinta Magistrate gathering that goes awry…”

Cullen just looked at her like she was crazy… Well okay yeah she is crazy but…

He did feel happy she was here.

…

“I am surprised you’re here!”

Josephine exclaimed.

“Ah yes… My apologies for not telling you… I felt it was best I keep myself hidden in the shadows… because of the situation…”

Josephine nodded.

“Ah makes sense and well… Regardless, we are very happy for you being here and for your assistance– You truly have gone above and beyond for us…”

The witch bowed her head respectfully towards Josephine.

“I am not as noble as you may think I am… because…”

Josephine and Cullen watched her.

“Oh! A plot to overthrow the Empress?! I just had to come see for myself– how could I not? This is history in the making! Quite exciting I must say~”

“Feels like we are back home… I am feeling quite nostalgic…”

Dorian chimed him.

“Indeed.”

The witch chuckled.

Josephine was taken aback and chuckled awkwardly.

“Uhh yes… exciting… that’s a way to put it…”

The witch chuckled again.

Cullen pinched his nose and breathed out exasperated.

“Maker’s breath…”

Right… Those two are from Tevinter… and it felt like it was a whole different chaotic world there… a chaotic world they were used to here…

His beloved demon apostate witch just smiled and chuckled at him in response as well.

...

End of Act l - Link to Master List

Side story - "The Witches"

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

I don’t need you to respect me, I respect me

I’m gonna miss writing about Amethyst.

As the most sisterly Crystal Gem, a firebrand in the new role of middle child after spending millennia as the baby of the group, Amethyst’s story is about growing from a wild teen to a responsible adult. Like Steven, she feels the need to prove that she’s a Crystal Gem too, but unlike Steven, she already is a Crystal Gem, so she carries a different kind of resentment as she continues to be treated like a child. It’s made even worse by her warrior instincts clashing with her small frame: she lives with the constant anxiety that she’s a mistake, a Gem who came out wrong and doesn’t belong in her family, so she comforts and distracts herself with hedonism and shapeshifting. Her problem goes beyond not feeling respected: deep down, she fears that she doesn’t deserve respect.

But she changes her mind.

“This isn’t normal.”

The Return and Jailbreak culminated the first act of Steven Universe, giving our characters subtle achievements (Amethyst and Pearl casually fuse into Opal, Greg reveals a deeper understanding of the Gems than we once thought, Beach City comes together as a community when Steven is in danger) and huge changes (Steven summons a massive shield, Garnet’s status as a fusion is confirmed, Lapis goes from prisoner to imprisoner). While not an official finale, Beta and Earthlings culminated the second act, narrowing the focus to five characters as they each reach one milestone or another: Lapis and Amethyst find a level of peace, Peridot defends her new home, Jasper succumbs to corruption, and Steven helps his friends but fails to help his enemy.

In a way, Change Your Mind culminates the third act with an even narrower focus. Sure, it gives big moments to a ton of characters (there’s fanservice galore, and we see the three Diamonds in particular take enormous steps), but we zero in on Steven in the same way the entire act has zeroed in on Steven, because this is a story about identity. It isn’t only about who he is, but who he wants to be moving forward, and fusing all the insights he’s learned from his human family, his Crystal Gem family, and his Diamond family into a song that encapsulates his growth over the course of the series.

We start in the most lifelike of the Diamond dreams, so real that Steven still sees himself as Steven rather than embodying Pink. Once again, this connection emerges from sleeping in a location where Pink once dwelled, but while he wasn’t feeling her impatience and rage in Jungle Moon, nor her hardening resolve in Can’t Go Back, nor her whimsy in Familiar, this time they share the same headspace when they’re both locked in a tower.

Considering how bombastic things get in this episode, I love how low-key this final dream remains until White Diamond interferes. We’re as lost as Steven at first, worrying about Connie and baffled at Blue’s recognizable mood but incongruous accusations, but as the truth becomes clear, he transforms into Pink off-screen without any fanfare, both in body and in mind: Steven isn’t questioning Blue’s warning about Pink Pearl, Pink Diamond is apologizing for her own behavior in Zach Callison’s voice. Still, looking down jolts him out of it, and after seeing the Crystal Gems poofed at the ball for a more definitive Steven memory, we cycle in Rose’s horror at her family launching a final attack on Earth. The rapid-fire identity shifts that follow inspired the most haunting piece of promo art for the episode, drawn by Rebecca Sugar herself, but I didn’t wanna display it without a seizure warning.

It’s excellent exposition, hitting the highlights of the Diamonds’ many wrongs and establishing Steven’s fraying sense of self in a way that’s both artful and brief; it’s important to remind younger viewers about the stakes, but Change Your Mind doesn’t pretend that anyone should be watching this episode without context, so it doesn’t prioritize thorough explanation. And despite how frightening the nightmare becomes, Steven gains a new sense of clarity after seeing the pattern laid out in front of him. The Diamonds are hurting him in the same way they hurt his mother, and if he’s going to help everyone, he needs to help himself.

When Blue Diamond returns to the tower in modern day, Steven isn’t afraid, and he isn’t alone. The first of many puns riddling the finale emerges (“Déjà Blue!”) before Connie proves why she’s the perfect partner for our hero, platonic or otherwise. He’s terrible at confronting the people that hurt him—this would require him to acknowledge he’s hurt in the first place, which he’s also terrible at—but if she was comfortable enough with confrontation to call out her best friend when he wrongs her, Blue Diamond doesn’t stand a chance. Connie comes out swinging, loading the bases with candor and sass despite Blue’s confusion over why a human even gets an opinion about this stuff, which makes Steven’s refusal to apologize hit the Diamond like a grand slam.

I love that Steven’s flat “no” takes Connie by surprise as well as Blue, because yeah, it’s uncharacteristically blunt for someone who’s spent his entire trip to Homeworld bending over backwards like he usually does to accommodate others. When he doubles down by explaining that he isn’t sorry about creating a show that celebrates queer characters whoops sorry I mean fusion, Callison makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, and this is what upsets Blue enough to inflict her tears on him. We’ll learn even more about Pink’s temper in Steven Universe Future, but the simple act of not bowing to authority makes Steven “worse than ever” in Blue’s mind: violence is more acceptable than insubordination. (Also, violence in cartoons is more acceptable than queer folks just sorta existing in cartoons, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Change Your Mind is about combating bigotry and cycles of abuse, and Blue is the obvious first test. She’s a bigot who doesn’t think she’s a bigot (compared to Yellow, who doesn’t care that she’s a bigot, and White, who’s quite proud of being a bigot). She passively perpetuates a toxic status quo (compared to Yellow, who actively perpetuates it, and White, who established it in the first place). It makes sense that she’s the first of the remaining Diamonds to change her mind, because all it takes for her to realize that something is wrong is thinking about it a little harder.

This doesn’t let her off the hook, of course: Blue’s sloth—the sin, not the animal—might not look flashy next to Yellow’s wrath or White’s pride or Pink’s envy, but she still chose to do nothing for thousands of years rather than contemplate how her actions and her society might have wronged Pink. If it was this easy for Blue to realize she was hurting Pink, it makes it that much more of an issue that it took her this long to figure it out. Unintentional bigots might be the “best” option by default, but they can be just as harmful as intentional bigots, and there’s a special sort of damage that can come from an oppressor who truly believes themselves an ally.

That said, while it’s important to acknowledge her blame (emphasized here when she only stops attacking Steven when he calls her out rather than the Diamonds in general), Blue is also a victim. She’s one of the most powerful beings on Homeworld, but she’s still trapped by White Diamond, and resorts to putting others down as a means of reclaiming a sense of that power. In the same way oppressed people often turn to sexism and racism and homophobia to make themselves feel bigger, Blue (and Yellow) reinforce White’s sweeping bigotry in the same way they echo her family-specific abuse. It’s not a good coping mechanism, in this show or in the real world, but understanding the problem is key to fixing it.

So it still feels like a victory when Blue turns, even though it should’ve happened ages ago, and even though she’s a tyrant. She isn’t just deciding to help Steven, she’s breaking out of that cycle in a way that allows for growth beyond our hero’s immediate concerns. Lisa Hannigan captures this transformation beautifully, shifting from manipulative whining about Pink’s behavior to a crushing realization that she’s the one who’s wrong. And even as she joins Steven’s side, she remains weighed down by her longstanding prejudice: Hannigan stutters as she refers to the Crystal Gems as his family, and her triumphant defense of Steven’s name to Yellow comes with the caveat that she’s still misgendering him.

But before we get to Yellow, we take a pit stop that grounds us back to Steven and Connie’s hunger. It may seem small, but this is a critical moment in establishing Steven’s humanity in a way the show has quietly done from day one: with food.

The very first scene of Steven Universe establishes our hero’s human half in a donut shop, upset about dessert. From there, the next five episodes drill in that Steven will take a unique approach to his magical Gem heritage, and they all involve food in a major way: Cookie Cats, then his father’s saying about pork chops and hot dogs, then the Cheeseburger Backpack (important enough to be the episode’s name), then the Together Breakfast (ditto), then creating a monster based on fries.

It’s not just Steven, either. The first few Connie episodes involve eating and drinking in ways that show hints of growth (worrying about trans fats, then sneaking food into movie theaters) and mark key moments in her life (sharing a juicebox, taking her parents to dinner). Lars’s development is tied with his love of baking, and on top of him and Sadie working at the Big Donut, the Frymans and the Pizzas are so tied to their food service jobs that it’s in their names. And speaking of names, we’ve got Vidalia calling her sons Sour Cream and Onion. It even extends to the Gems: Amethyst’s connection with Earth means she loves food, and Pearl’s greater distance from humanity means she can’t stomach it.

Food is fundamentally something that humans require and Gems don’t, and just like we saw in Lars’s Head, Steven’s physical body forces him to think about his own needs despite his usual focus on others. Both his humanity and his ability to stand up for himself are key to his eventual victory, and what could’ve been a generic transition between Blue and Yellow’s big scenes instead becomes a quiet Steven scene. Steven changing into his usual clothes (including his mom’s star) and Connie changing into her own outfit (including her dad’s jacket) is the perfect finishing touch before we dive back into the drama.

True to their natures, Yellow Diamond gets a starker introduction than Blue’s dream sequence: as the lights burst on, we get two shots focusing on a horrifying number of mutated Gem Shards floating around in the room, then the Crystal Gems’ thankfully intact gems in one big bubble, before panning down to the villain who caused all this pain. The menace is palpable before she even opens her mouth, but Patti LuPone’s low tone keeps the mood from boiling over just long enough that when she loses her cool, it hits like a freight train.

Blue’s passive bigotry endured because she lacked introspection, but Yellow’s active bigotry requires constantly justifying actions she knows are cruel by presenting it as a matter of superior reasoning. We’ve known from her first appearance that Yellow’s seething fury undermines her reputation for cold logic, and now more than ever the connection between her behavior and that of “sophisticated” bigots is clear. You know the type: openly, smugly hateful, but couching their hate as something derived from some deep knowledge about the subject, whether in religious convictions or whatever “science” they can scrape together to confirm their worldview.

Sure enough, even in her rage, Yellow lays down what she sees as a rational explanation for why it was okay to mistreat Pink, and why it’s okay that they themselves are mistreated: if they make exceptions for anyone, even other Diamonds, they must make exceptions for everyone, and chaos reigns. Besides the slippery slope being a fallacy, her argument is punctured by Connie’s second big retort of the night, pointing out that this extreme conclusion of Homeworld Gems living free actually sounds pretty nice. But you can’t force this type of bigot to change their mind through reason; if such a person was actually interested in logical worldviews, they wouldn’t have become a bigot in the first place. You need to change their heart.

Fortunately, emotions are Blue’s domain, so she’s just the person to help. Unfortunately, in the same way she still can’t get Steven’s pronouns right, Blue lacks experience with healthy communication, and strikes a first blow against Yellow on instinct. The ensuing brawl is brutal, switching between the massive scale of two warring titans and the smaller scale of Steven and Connie scrambling to save the Crystal Gems as Blue and Yellow unload millennia of baggage on each other. It’s so important that Blue is the physical instigator here, as it fuels Yellow’s white-hot self-righteous streak like nothing else, and it keeps the fight from being one-sided all the way through: Yellow pretty much needs to be the one dealing the final blow for the scene to stick, so it gets balanced out by Blue’s opening punch.

Blue uses her powers on Yellow, and Yellow uses her powers on Blue, but Steven’s power is talking. So just like with Blue’s conversion, Connie gets the opening words while Steven gets the finisher. When he finally gets her attention after being ignored throughout the scene, he makes Yellow listen to him by using the same food-based expression I mentioned from all the way back in Laser Light Cannon. It’d pack a bigger punch if Greg said “If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs” at literally any other point in the show, but it still does the trick.

Blue was emotionally ready to accept that Pink was suffering, but hadn’t considered the Diamonds’ role in that suffering. Yellow knew that Pink suffered thanks to the Diamonds, but suppressed her emotions to the point where she couldn’t empathize with her sister’s plight. Blue needed to be more thoughtful to change, and Yellow needed to be more in touch with her emotions to change, and thus the stage is set for the Battle of Heart and Mind against White Diamond.

Except that this isn’t the lesson of Change Your Mind. Blue and Yellow show that some bigots can be reached, which is great! But despite their differences, Steven uses the same basic strategy in both: he doesn’t let them belittle his identity, he confidently dispels their wrongheaded assumptions, and he gets help from allies instead of shouldering the burden himself. We spend the beginning of the episode seeing that in the right circumstances this approach can work, but from here we’ll see that with some bigots, it’s a non-starter.

So long as you can engage with bigots while maintaining your self-respect, it can be good work to try and help them see the light. It’s not an obligation, but if you want to change hearts and minds, Steven provides a good template for how to do it. Now the rest of the episode can focus on the bigger lesson: if someone refuses to respect your humanity when you’re steadfast and forthright, it isn’t your job to breathe in their poison, or to hold your breath until you asphyxiate waiting for change.

But more on that after the break!

I Can’t Believe We’ve Come So Far

As we reach the end of the original series, it would be criminal not to acknowledge three long-time storyboarders who are on their way out. This isn’t their final contribution to the series, as only one of Change Your Mind’s twelve credited writer/boarders didn’t go on to work on The Movie in some way (Christine Liu, whose tenure was brief but great), and Hilary Florido stayed on as a supervisor for Future. But I wanted to write the big sendoffs here, as this is the last proper “episode” that these three worked on as regular boarders. So it’s time to say goodbye to Katie Mitroff, Hilary Florido, and Jeff Liu.

First up is Katie Mitroff, who clocked two early knockouts with Alone Together and The Test alongside Florido. Mitroff’n’Florido went on to make other classics like Maximum Capacity and Joy Ride before the former teamed up with Lamar Abrams and the latter teamed up with Jesse Zuke for their next batch of episodes.

With Abrams, Mitroff deepened the lore of the show with We Need to Talk, Steven’s Birthday, Bismuth, Buddy’s Book, Three Gems and a Baby, and especially The Answer. She gave us the harrowing revelation of Back to the Moon, and the most ridiculous episode of the series, Restaurant Wars. Her final partner was Paul Villeco, finishing strong with The Trial, Back to the Kindergarten, Your Mother and Mine, Pool Hopping, What’s Your Problem?, Reunited, and Change Your Mind, 100% of which are either in my Love ‘em ranking or my Top Episodes. (Oh, sorry, spoiler alert I love Change Your Mind.)

It’s strange, because she didn’t work on any of the major episodes of Amethyst’s big arc at the end of Season 3, but Mitroff is one of my favorite Amethyst boarders: she’s the consistent thread between Maximum Capacity, Back to the Moon, and What’s Your Problem?, three cornerstones of the character. She excelled at going outside the show’s usual style, as seen in The Answer and Your Mother and Mine, and it’s no coincidence she helped animate Isn’t It Love? to bring Cotton Candy Garnet back for one last ride.

Katie Mitroff is an absolute rock star, I wish her well and you should too.

#change your mind #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Hi again! I’ve been thinking about this one a lot, recently. How would romanced companions react to raiders kidnapping sole? I absolutely love your work! I keep checking your page to see if you’ve posted anything lol

(Enjoy! 💖)

Cait:

The very second she realized what happened, all she saw was red. Her anger was all she would allow herself to focus on as she took it upon herself to track your whereabouts down. She was aware it was a dumb decision to go alone...so she brought good ol’, disgruntled, smelly Paladin douche along with her to retrieve you.

He was a decent human shield and a big enough target.

Whenever she was finally reunited with your battered self, the red head crumbled. All that fury that had fueled her up dissipated in the form of a gut wrenching sob as she held you close.

Curie:

She just knew something was horribly wrong. When she came across a note promising your return for a hefty ransom..her heart dropped. How could she get you back?! There wasn’t anyway to get that amount of caps anytime soon...

So, knowing she definitely wasn’t much of a fighter, she employed the help of some very eager minutemen..unable to rest until they carried you all the way back home. As soon as she got you through the door she was examining you for even the mildest of injuries, hugging you

Danse:

It was such a bad idea. He knew it was too, but that didn’t stop him from loading up on ammo and bounding up to the raider’s hideout. Whatever comfort it was, you knew it was him just from the horrendous “clang” of his stomping. Regardless of how outnumbered he was nor how unlikely his chances or survival were, he found a way to tear through anything and anyone that stood in the way of his path to you.

Hell, he wasn’t proud of it but when he ran out of ammo, he simply crushed one raider’s skull without second thought.

The second he got you back home, he crumbled to his knees, laid his head in your lap, and begged for your forgiveness. Lord knows he wouldn’t forgive himself for letting that happen to you.

Deacon:

A piece of him was willing to bet you were giving the raiders complete hell....but despite his better judgement he couldn’t stop himself from racing to your rescue......by himself.

Somehow he was able to do it though, managing to sneak his way in by assuming the typical raider digs. He even had you fooled, allowing you to believe he was another one of those horrible people, escorting you away to “rough you up”. That is until he slipped you out the back door and cut your binds, tearing off his raider helmet before pressing a quick kiss to your lips...which resulted in you punching him due to you not realizing it was him.

Once he made his identity known, you were more than apologetic.

Gage:

Whosoever though this was a good idea had one hell of a storm coming their way. You don’t mess with his Overboss, you just don’t. Even if he wasn’t romantically involved, you bet your ass he’d fight tooth and nail to retrieve you.

That’s thing though. He loves you.

As soon as he figures out who was responsible and their respective leader, he’d rally the other two gangs and attack guns blazing- fiercely destroying anything that was stupid enough to try to stop him. All he felt was rage and he’d make sure to use all of it to absolutely decimate the people that betrayed you both.

Hancock:

You remember how he stabbed a person he knew quite well just for disrespected him and you? Yeah, picture that but 20x worse. You are his happiness. You are his sunshine. If you think that he’d just let that happen, you’re dead wrong.

Just to mess with the raiders, he’d show up with all the caps they demanded...before shooting the first one to approach in the face. After that, things were a blur, some people and close friends assisted him with the whole cleaning out job as he went to you.

Once it was all over and he had you in his arms, he swore to you that this would never happen again.

Macready;

In awful mix of emotions set deep within Mac’s being once he made the discovery. With an almost listless like way about him, Mac would ask Preston or Curie to watch your children, refusing to give an explanation before leaving in the middle of the night- waiting until his kids were asleep and kissing them goodbye. He hoped it wasn’t the last time, but he had to get you back.

Having packed countless rounds of ammunition, he made quick, silent work of your captors from his perch- only revealing himself once he was sure they were all bleeding out on the ground. Once he finally got to you though..oh nothing would stop the tears from spilling despite the joy he felt from knowing he was actually able to save you.

Maxson:

Whatever group of raiders did it were stupid, even for raider standards. Kidnapping a soldier of the brotherhood? Not a good idea. But..kidnapping the sentinel? Extremely bad idea. To top it off, the Elder’s lover? It was suicide.

It didn’t matter if they demanded ransom and promised no harm would befall you, all Arthur could think of was total annihilation. It took less than a day for a whole heavily armed troop to come to your rescue, mowing through the raider’s like they were nothing.

Just as you started to assume he stayed behind, a soldier equipped in unique power armour came bounding your way- whisking you up effortlessly before taking off it’s helmet to reveal the elder himself and his terrified blue eyes.

Nick:

While he wanted so badly to get you back fast, he knew better than to go in hotheaded like. As so, he’d be the only one to give what the raiders demanded- handing over the caps in exchange for his sweet love.

On the walk back he’d do the closest thing he could to crying, draping his coat around your shoulders and holding your hand.

Old Longfellow:

You initial absence didn’t seem to concern him, knowing you- you were just foraging for aster flowers. However when you didn’t come home by sundown he became worried, deciding to investigate until he made the horrifying discovery that you had been abducted.

Swallowing his pride, he’d rally some willing hands to help get you back. Fighting his way through with his fellow islanders with tears in his eyes at the possibility of losing you too.

After he finally got to you, he hid his tears behind a big smile- concealing any sign of distress by holding your head to his chest. It’ll take some time until he’s able to allow you to go foraging without him again.

Piper:

She’d flip her shit. Like for real, Lose. Her. Shit.

She’d just hope that your companions, and ultimately, her friends would assist her. Of course they would. So, as a big assembled brigade- she’d say her farewells to Nat before going off to retrieve you.

As soon as she found you she wrapped her scarf around your neck, putting a hand to your cheek as she looked into your eyes. She’d mutter something about being so scared that she lost you, to which you’d promptly kiss her to prevent her mind from wandering anymore than you knew it already had.

Once it was all over with, she’d suggest all of you to go celebrate a successful “retrieval” by going out for drinks...just to slip away to show you just how much she missed you.

Preston:

Welp, hope the raiders like having angry minutemen busting down their doors. It’s not just Preston they ticked off after all, it the whole minuteman army. So, it’s fair to say he wasn’t too worried- especially after seeing how quick the newly formed army cleaned them out.

However that isn’t to say he wasn’t also terrified, not only would he had lost his General- he would’ve also lost his love. As such, he found you as soon as possible and cried- unashamed of his tears even as you smiled and kissed them away.

Sturges:

The very moment he realized what happened, he ran straight to Preston. This time, he too would be on the forefront of shooting up some raiders. They’ve taken so much from him already, now this? They’re as good as dead.

Once Preston yelled for him, having retrieved you, Sturges ran as fast as his legs could manage to you- not even missing a beat as he took you into a breathtaking embrace, all while promising to never let you leave his sight again.

This was too much.

After this incident he’d practically beg you to retire the whole adventuring thing and settle down with him.

X6-88:

Heh. Fine. Guess those people enjoy death.

He had full confidence in your capabilities buuut, he took this as a personal slight. Within moments of noticing your disappearance, he hunted you down- locating the people dumb enough to steal you from him before doing what he does best.

He slaughtered them with the efficiency and precision of a grim reaper.

Upon finding you, all that scary courser exterior crumbled. He was just happy to be able to find you...unable to stop himself from pulling you into a tight, rare hug.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 companions #fallout companions #fo4 reacts #fallout reacts #paladin danse #elder maxson #danse #porter gage #curie #light angst #arthur maxson #brotherhood of steel #cait #deacon #hancock #macready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston #sturges

[carewyncromwell]

The next Cinderella AU part is here...and I am so thrilled about this part, because not only do we get a new character (who I’m quite sure you can identify from the sketch above -- only my second time drawing him ever, and I’m actually pretty happy with it!), but we’ll also get a nice serving of drama! Goodie!!

Robin Hood as a legendary figure first originated through the oral tradition, so its history is a little hard to plot out, but his first reference in writing is a ballad from the 15th century. Although our modern image of Robin Hood is that of a chaotic good heroic figure, his original incarnation was decidedly less saintly -- he was a bandit, and although he did refrain from stealing from women, he was rather violent, reckless, and hot-tempered, as well as flagrantly against both clerics and all nobility. Robin Hood’s backstory of being a disgraced nobleman who turned outlaw after losing his title and land and who remains loyal to the “good king” Richard while opposing the unlawful regent Prince John was added later, presumably to make him a bit more “approachable” to an Elizabethan audience who was more accustomed to hearing tales about nobility (just look at a lot of Shakespeare’s plays from that period -- many of them center around royalty or the upper class). Plays about or referencing Robin Hood then increased in popularity on the British Isles throughout the 16th and early 17th century, until the rise of Puritanism in the 1640′s put a halt to theatrical productions. (Bloody kill-joys.) For more information on the history of Robin Hood’s development, I strongly recommend this analysis done by Overly Sarcastic Productions (...actually, just watch everything on their channel, it’s all great XD).

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had a lot of trouble returning to her daily routine at the palace the following morning. Getting so close to the border with Orion and hearing about how much scarier it was likely to get on the battlefield made her all the more worried for Jacob’s well-being. Even if the spell Charles Cromwell had paid for nine years ago made it so that Jacob would stay alive as long as he willed it, Carewyn dreaded the thought of what harm, physical and emotional, that Jacob might face. If she only had some idea which battalion he was a part of and where on the front he’d be, then she could always just try to send a letter his way...maybe even ask Orion to drop it off to the camp for her, since his father was an officer. But Carewyn had combed every military roster she could get her hands on, but hadn’t been able to find a single record of Jacob anywhere.

‘He must be under another name,’ Carewyn told herself. 

It wouldn’t be too unreasonable that Charles wouldn’t want Jacob to advance in the ranks on the back of their family name. And really, Carewyn knew full well how displeased her grandfather would be if he found out she was trying to reach out to her brother without his approval -- he could’ve even forced Jacob to take on another name, just to try to make it that bit harder for Carewyn to contact him without his approval...

Carewyn’s friends noticed a rather abrupt shift in her mood. She was singing as always, but her choices were a bit less upbeat and her voice sounded oddly distracted and nostalgic. At one point, Andre mentioned offhandedly that he’d been designing themed outfits for his friends to wear to his mother’s New Year Eve’s Masque Ball, but Carewyn had trouble putting much attention on it.

“I’ve already finished some ‘owl wings’ on a cape for KC and a fur-trimmed wolf mask and gown for Erika...I was thinking perhaps a stag for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, and a lioness for Ginny? I considered a horse at first, but I think a pale gold would make her just glow, don’t you think? Yours I’m most excited for, though...I’m hoping to actually make your newest pair of shoes with fabric on the inside for comfort and diamond on the outside for sturdiness, if I can manage it!”

“Mm...that sounds great,” said Carewyn absently.

Her gaze was drawn out the nearest window, as far out as she could.

“...Andre,” she said slowly, “I realize this is very last minute, but...may I have this afternoon off, to go see my family?”

Andre blinked. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, no,” Carewyn lied with as pretty and reassuring of a smile as she could. “It’s just...well, it’s nearly Tristan’s birthday. My uncle keeps him very close to home, compared to my other cousins...I merely thought I might stop by and bake him a little something, as a surprise.”

Andre frowned slightly. “You...get along better with your uncle and his son than with Iris, then?”

“No, but Tristan is only a boy. It’s hard to hold any bad behavior against him. And well, maybe if he and the others don’t know I made it, he’ll enjoy it better.”

Carewyn could see Andre still looked confused and a little dismayed, so she quickly added, “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, in time for my rounds. I won’t allow it to interrupt my duties.”

Andre offered a hesitant smile. “Well, all right...if it really means that much to you.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Andre -- I really appreciate it.”

Fortunately for Carewyn, Andre wasn’t the best at picking up on other people’s pretenses. Unfortunately for Carewyn, two of his most regular confidantes were his cousin KC and fencing instructor Erika, and they did pick up on Carewyn’s odd behavior.

“She said she wanted to surprise her cousin with something for his birthday?” asked KC, frowning deeply. 

“Well, yeah,” said Andre. “I admit, it seemed a little weird to do something so nice without even wanting credit, but Carewyn is an awfully selfless sort. From the way she made it sound, she just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“And you believed her?” said Erika rather coldly. 

She whacked Andre’s practice sword out of his hand with her own, making the Crown Prince hiss in pain. 

“I’ve told you before, Prince Henri -- you all may think Carewyn Cromwell’s nothing like her family, but that’s absolute bunk. She might be more pleasant than them, but she’s not stupid and she’s not honest. Or did you not notice that that weird guy she hangs out with keeps calling her ‘his lady,’ as if she weren’t the penniless orphan of a deadbeat merchant?”

Erika picked up Andre’s sword and tossed it back to him with ease. 

“Then of course that guy himself is shady as all get out.”

Andre frowned. “You mean Orion? Come on, Erika, he isn’t that bad -- I thought he seemed quite amiable, myself. Don’t you agree, KC?”

“He is,” said KC fairly. “But Erika isn’t completely off-base. There is a lot about Orion that we don’t know -- that even Carewyn herself doesn’t know. She admitted as much to me, after I first met him. That being said,” she raised her own sword and got into position to attack Andre, “I don’t think Orion’s a threat. You would think anyone with the ability to sneak over the palace walls not once but twice would’ve tried to make some move to attack you by now, but he’s only ever come looking for Carewyn. And although I don’t completely understand the reason behind why she’s acting like a lady around him,” she shot Erika a faintly reproachful look as she and Andre traded blows, “I’m pretty sure it has more to do with her own insecurities than because she’s a terrible person -- ow! Damn it!”

Andre had successfully disarmed KC. 

“Insecurities?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What is there for her to be insecure about? I mean, yes, she has no dowry, and taking Orion’s wardrobe into account, I’d suppose he has to come from a family with modest wealth -- but Orion seemed to enjoy the Weasleys’ company quite well, and their family is poor. I think they’d make a lovely match, really,” he added with a rather smug grin. “They even matched at the Festival, without realizing it.”

KC massaged her wrist, frowning a bit sourly. “Yes...but Carewyn is solely under Lord Cromwell’s charge. He’s the one who sent her here. He’s the only guardian she really has. And I think it’s quite clear how much influence he has over his family -- even his daughters who married into other esteemed families still live at his estate with their husbands and children, rather than moving out onto their own estates. And in Carewyn’s case, she doesn’t even have a parent to help shield her from Lord Cromwell’s will. She doesn’t have a penny to her name. So that means, in effect, she’s chained to him, and in those circumstances...well...”

She hesitated. 

"Well what?” Andre prompted her. 

KC looked incredibly uncomfortable. 

“I didn’t want to say anything before without knowing for sure...but I think someone’s been looking at our military ledgers, documenting troop placements. Everything’s neatly put away the way they should be, but there are more fingerprints on them than before. And usually I’m the only one who has much use to look those up, whenever I’m ready to suggest a new war strategy...”

Erika’s eyes narrowed very sharply and she got right up into KC’s space. “And you’re only just saying this now?! That information could be critical to Royaume’s enemies! What if that guy Orion sneaked in not just to see Cromwell, but to get his hands on those? Or what if it was Cromwell herself, working in collusion with him?”

“Impossible,” Andre said forcefully. “Carewyn would never be a spy for the enemy -- it’s not in her character.”

“And I don’t think Orion would know where those documents would be, even if he did sneak in,” said KC. 

Erika, however, looked unconvinced as she made for the door. “You can coddle those two all you want, but I plan to tell the King and Queen -- they’ll want to interrogate Cromwell and this ‘Orion Freeman’...”

“Erika, belay that!” Andre said in a suddenly much sharper and more authoritative voice. “That’s an order.”

Once Erika had stopped walking and turned back around, the Crown Prince exhaled heavily and crossed his arms in a business-like manner. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said firmly. “If Carewyn is heading to the Cromwell estate, she’ll have to take the road through town, correct? I’ll simply take a horse and follow the road after her.”

Erika and KC looked startled. 

“Uh, Andre,” said KC, “you haven’t forgotten that you’re not allowed to leave the palace, have you?”

Andre smirked. “No. I’m just sneaking out.”

Before Erika and KC could articulate an argument, he added in a much sassier voice, “Look, I’m doing it whether you come with me or not. I’d appreciate the company if you want to come along -- all I expect is that you’ll dress appropriately. I hear linens and cottons are fashionable for those who don’t wish to attract attention.”

And so Andre, KC, and Erika made preparations to follow Carewyn...completely unaware that a half-hour earlier, Bill and Charlie Weasley had -- after having a similar, but much more concerned conversation with Badeea Ali about Carewyn clearly lying to Andre’s face -- decided to take their horses and tail their friend themselves. And sure enough, the two eldest Weasleys soon enough found themselves following Carewyn on the road heading northeast, avoiding the Cromwell estate all together.

At the very same time, in Florence, Orion had finalized his plan. Today was the day he was going to request a formal audience with Prince Henri, as Prince Cosimo VII. As Carewyn had said, he’d need to act fast if he was going to stop his father from finding a way to complete his own ruthless strategy -- the battlefield itself would be a difficult place for Orion to make his case, with so many distractions, but he knew a more balanced, peaceful setting wouldn’t be. And so he wrote a long letter to the King, explaining everything that he had learned from Royaume and its people as well as Florence’s own, so as to make a case for peace. He then had the court magician Severus Snape deliver it to the Florentine camp in his stead, while he dressed in his finest and prepared to leave for Royaume. 

When he made as if to take his own horse, however, Orion found Skye and McNully waiting for him, a black coach already prepared. 

“If you’re planning on going to meet Prince Henri, you really should arrive in style,” said McNully with a wry smile. “A good first impression to the King and Queen would help your case by a good 45%.”

“And you have to know there’s no way in Hell we’re going to let you go out and expose your true identity to the enemy without back-up,” Skye added, her arms crossed over her chest. “

Orion’s black eyes softened. “...Thank you.”

As he climbed into the carriage, both McNully and Skye’s faces nonetheless betrayed some hesitation. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McNully asked. “There’s a 74% chance they’ll respond badly to it -- I reckon there’s a 39.5% chance they’ll try to arrest you on the spot and hold you as a prisoner of war...”

“I carry no weapons with me, and I come with the explicit purpose of diplomacy,” said Orion levelly. “Therefore I’m not an enemy combatant. As long as I follow their direction while under their roof, then any harm they might do me would be violating the conventions of war...and the Royaumanians, for all of their flaws, do have honor.”

“One could make a case for you having been involved in espionage, though,” McNully pointed out, but Orion ignored him and settled down in the carriage, crossing his legs offhandedly. 

“What about Lady Cromwell?” said Skye, her voice a bit lower and more concerned. “She’ll find out you’re a Florentine. And not just any Florentine, the Prince of Florence.”

Something sad flickered through Orion’s confident, unflappable expression.

“She was going to learn the truth sooner or later,” he murmured. “If our time together has come to an end...then at least I may have the memories to hold onto...and the knowledge that by ending this War peacefully, I may have spared her of more heartache.”

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, clearly having said his piece on the matter. Skye and McNully, however, couldn’t help but exchange a look that was both anxious and very sad. 

As long as they’d known Orion, he’d always been a little reckless, but he was also passive and avoided direct confrontation. This plan to directly appeal to Royaume’s royal family, however, required a lot of guts  -- far more than either of them had thought Orion possessed. And they knew such courage could only have been encouraged by one person...the very same person who Orion loved so much that he would choose to follow her example and protect what she loved, even if it meant destroying their relationship forever. 

Orion meditated during most of the journey to the Royaumanian palace. It was merely fortunate that, as they approached, McNully broke him out of his trance by tapping him on the shoulder and pointing out the window. If he hadn’t, then Orion would not have seen a rather familiar trio of riders on horseback, riding through town past them -- a short, stocky lady with dark red hair and freckles; a very tall blonde with a square jaw and sharp eyes; and a very handsome dark-skinned man dressed in a purple tunic, emerald green pants, and gold-buckled black boots. 

“Stop the carriage!” said Orion, his soft, level voice nonetheless very firm despite not rising in volume. 

He barely waited for the carriage to completely stop before slamming the door open and jumping out.

“Andre! KC!”

Andre, KC, and Erika all stopped their horses in an abrupt halt and turned around as Orion dashed up to them.

“Orion?” said Andre, startled. 

KC looked from the rather finely dressed Orion to the expensive-looking black coach behind him and back. Erika’s eyes narrowed critically upon Orion as he came to a stop in front of them, his hands clasping in front of him. 

“I...had not expected to see you out and about,” said Orion, trying to put on his most pleasant, calm expression. 

Andre glanced over his shoulder up the road, frowning deeply. “Yes, well...some business has come up.”

“Orion, have you seen Carewyn?” KC asked him, her face very serious. 

Orion blinked. 

“Not since last night,” he said. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Never you mind,” barked Erika, as she turned back to the road. “Come on, we don’t want to lose the trail -- ”

“Erika,” reproached Andre, before he turned back to Orion, his face visibly concerned. “...Carewyn asked for the afternoon off to go see her family, but it was very last minute, which isn’t like her. And according to what we’ve heard in town, there’s been no traffic down the road toward the Cromwell estate in the last four hours...”

“So Carewyn had to have been lying about where she was going,” finished KC, her face much more stoic but her voice no less tense. “We need to find her and figure out why.”

Orion’s eyebrows had furrowed over his widening black eyes. His heartbeat was slamming in his ears as the memory of Carewyn in the woods returned to him -- looking northward, toward the army camps, as if longing to run toward them --

“I know where she’s gone,” he said at once. 

He rushed back to the coach, grabbing onto the window frame and standing on the boot of the carriage. 

“To the northern border,” he urged Skye, who sat in the driver’s seat. “Quickly!”

“The border?” repeated Skye as a sharp whisper. “But Orion, your meeting with the Prince -- ”

“Can come later,” Orion told her very firmly under his breath. “Both he and I must get to the war front.”

He shot a significant look over his shoulder in Andre’s direction. McNully, putting two-and-two together, nodded and inched himself up to the window of the carriage. 

“If you tie one or more of your horses to the carriage, we should decrease our travel time by a good 21% per horse,” he told Erika, KC, and Andre. “If Carewyn left an hour ago, then with one horse, we should be able to overtake her within an half-hour -- two, within twenty minutes, and three, within ten. Though with Orion on the boot, there’s a 12% chance he’ll fall off if we ride at full speed, so we might have to go at 95% instead -- ”

KC fixed the blond-haired man with an incredulous look as she leapt off her horse. 

“Are you really calculating all that on the fly,” she asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused, “or are you just pulling those numbers out of fat air?”

McNully couldn’t help but grin. “Excellent! Now I can officially say that I’ve been asked that question over a hundred times before.” 

Still looking faintly bewildered, KC moved to help Andre, who’d quickly started attaching his, Erika’s, and her horse’s to the front of the carriage with the two black ones already pulling it, ignoring Erika’s incredibly sour and distrustful expression. There was no time to lose. 

From the boot of the carriage, Orion directed Skye down the same road he’d taken with Carewyn the previous night, Andre, Erika, and KC riding with McNully inside the coach. Once they’d reached the forest, Orion caught sight of a familiar-looking golden eagle with a bandaged wing -- at the sight of the Florentine prince, the eagle gave a loud shriek and flew down into the trees, and Orion urged Skye to pursue him into the woods. The road took them deep into the trees, until at last the eagle landed on a branch over the heads of two familiar-looking ginger-haired men, who were bound with thick rope to a tree. 

Bill and Charlie were stunned at the sight of such an elegant coach, but were absolutely beside themselves with relief at the sight of Andre, KC, and Erika. Erika immediately yanked a knife out of her ankle boot and set about sawing off their bindings -- once she’d cut Charlie free, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed Andre’s shoulders. 

“We’ve got to hurry!” he said anxiously. “They’ve got Carey!”

“‘They?’” said Andre, very startled. “They who?”

“This band of Florentine bandits,” said Bill, his voice very low and urgent. He kept maneuvering his bindings as Erika cut them to try to sever them faster. “They cornered us so they could try to rob us -- they were willing to let Carey go since she was a lady, but she bartered with the leader, saying that they could take her so long as they left us alone. Claimed that they could probably get more money from holding her hostage than us, given her family...”

Both Skye and McNully glanced at Orion. The Prince’s face had lost most of its color -- he’d turned his face away and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he tried to stabilize his emotions. 

“The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you,” Baroness McGonagall’s words returned to his mind, “but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

“They took all three of our horses and tied us to the tree so that we wouldn’t follow them,” growled Charlie. “They left us a knife so that we’d be able to cut ourselves free, but it’s so dull I reckon it would’ve taken us hours to do it ourselves...”

Bill succeeded in snapping the weakened ropes in half and leapt back to his feet, massaging his wrists. 

“They must have taken her to a camp of theirs,” said KC, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Even bandits need some base of operation.”

McNully nodded, resting his arms on the edge of the coach’s window. “The lady is right. Given where we are, I’d say the odds are fairer that it’s southeast of here.”

“Closer to the Florentine side of the border, you mean,” presumed KC, and McNully nodded again. 

“They were heading south through the woods,” said Bill. “But we won’t want to bring the coach. They stopped us because they wanted money -- if they have any reason to think any of you have it, they’ll no doubt want to imprison you too...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion in a very low voice, “this carriage may be just the thing we need, to ensure that they don’t imprison us.”

Everyone looked at Orion, their faces all a mixture of incredulity and revulsion, but he seemed disinterested in explaining himself. 

“We must be quick, McNully,” said Orion, and although his voice and face were as level and unreadable as ever, they both betrayed a slight edge. “Time is not on our side.”

With Bill now sitting with the driver’s seat next to Skye and Charlie hanging off the boot with Orion, the black coach set off again. Overhead Orion caught sight of the wounded eagle again, which shrieked at them warningly -- the Prince thought it must mean they were close, but did not respond fast enough to the trap set out in front of them. 

The coach rode right through a certain cluster of vines, and within seconds, they had magically sprung to life, lashing themselves around the limbs of the five horses pulling the coach. The steeds reared back, panicked -- Skye immediately yanked out a sword from her belt and began hacking away at them, and Erika and Andre both leapt from the carriage with their own swords to help, but it was no use. The vines only lashed onto them, binding all three of them fast and making it impossible for them to move. And when things seemed like they couldn’t be any worse, without warning, a group of green-dressed men and women had swung down from more vines attached to the nearby trees, surrounding them in a tight noose-like circle and pointing their arrow-decked bows at them. 

They were trapped. 

“Well, well,” said a voice from the trees above, “we don’t often see coaches that ritzy out here.”

The voice’s owner leapt down to the ground. Unlike his companions, his hooded tunic was yellow instead of green. When he lifted his head enough that they could see his face, it was the host of a mischievous smirk. 

“Especially ones crafted in Florence,” the dark-haired and eyed bandit said breezily. 

Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys all stiffened. 

“Florence?” breathed Bill. 

They all as a unit whirled on Orion. His face was remarkably calm and solemn as he stepped off the coach and in front of the others and faced the bandits’ leader, his hands clasped in front of him. 

“We do not come seeking trouble,” he said. “We merely come to retrieve a lady who surrendered herself to you. Frame like a robin’s. Hair the color of a red sunset. Eyes the color of the sky.”

The bandit’s leader raised his eyebrows curiously. “The maid called Cromwell?”

“That is her.”

“And what reason would you desire her in your custody?” challenged one of the green-dressed bandits with a cocked eyebrow, a dashing man with tanned skin and dark brown hair. 

“Wants to ransom her off himself, no doubt,” sneered another woman with messy brown hair and cold magenta eyes. “He probably works for Lord Malfoy -- we all know he’s the sort to make money off illicit enterprises and keep it all to himself, rather than give it to anyone who actually needs it...”

Two of the other bandits -- a pair of women with long red and short pink hair, respectively -- exchanged a sour look. 

“We have nothing to do with Lord Malfoy,” spat Skye, vainly tugging against the vines binding her. “We wouldn’t collaborate with that rat if you paid us -- !”

“Skye,” said Orion in a quelling voice. 

The last bandit, a very strong-looking man with dark red hair and emerald green eyes, frowned deeply at the leader, who considered Orion carefully. 

“I know your face,” he murmured. 

Orion inclined his head, his black eyes boring into the other man’s face. “I’m sure you do.”

The leader’s thin-lidded eyes narrowed critically -- then they widened, realizing. 

“Bring out Lady Cromwell at once,” he said abruptly. 

The others all whirled on him. 

“What?!” cried all three women and the dashing man. 

“Jae, are you mad?!” said the woman with the magenta eyes. 

“Do it,” said the leader called Jae firmly, without flinching. 

The strong bandit -- the only one who hadn’t questioned the leader’s direction -- grabbed a vine, which immediately retracted back up above them. 

Jae glanced at the magenta-eyed woman. “Merula, have the vines set them loose.”

Merula looked rather scandalized. “What? Oh come on, you know how much of a pain it is, to have to recast a spell after it’s broken -- ”

“Better that we do it now than wait around for the spell to expire on its own,” Jae said dryly. 

Still looking very reluctant, Merula nonetheless did as she was told, holding up her hand, which glowed with light green. 

“The terms are now invalid,” she muttered sourly at the plants. 

The plants sparkled with a similar green flare before falling limply off of the horses, Andre, Erika, and Skye. KC and Bill moved to detangle the now harmless plants from their companions and around the horses’ legs, and Charlie moved to soothe the frightened steeds. 

Within a minute, the strong bandit was back, holding onto the vine easily with one hand and holding Carewyn under his opposite arm. She had her ginger hair tied back in a loose bun and was dressed in the green peasant dress she’d worn to the Festival and her slightly oversized brown shoes -- no doubt because it was the most comfortable dress for travel she had. Orion was also beyond relieved to see that she was perfectly unharmed -- not a single cut or bruise. 

“CAREWYN!” cried KC, Andre, Bill and Charlie in relief. 

All three of the men immediately dashed right over to her and threw their arms around her in a group hug. 

“It’s all right,” Carewyn reassured them with a small smile. “I’m all right.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Bill interrogated her. 

“You must have been terrified -- ” said Andre. 

“Where are the horses?” asked Charlie. 

“Tied up in a makeshift stable over there,” said the pink-haired bandit with a wry grin and a vague hand gesture. 

“A bit tricky to lug them up into treehouses,” added the red-haired one cheekily. “And no, for the record, we did not hurt Carewyn Cromwell. She may be a stick in the mud, but she’s a decent sort.”

“And brave too!” said the muscled man, beaming. “She wasn’t scared at all, not even when Merula stuck a knife in her face!”

“I was only getting fed up with her smart remarks,” huffed the magenta-eyed bandit called Merula. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba, with how she acts...”

“She is a proper lady, to be sure,” said the dashing bandit, shooting Carewyn a rather Casanova-like smile. 

Carewyn tried to stifle a snort of laughter behind her hand as Jae approached her. 

“Seems you’ll have an escort after all, Carewyn,” he said, lowering his bow with a slightly more serious look. “I don’t think I can convince you to reconsider, but under the circumstances...well, just make sure you’re careful. I’d hate to hear of Royaume losing one of its only honorable citizens due to their own stupidity.”

Carewyn inclined her head to him, her blue eyes very solemn. “I’m far from Royaume’s most honorable citizen, Jae, nor from any other country, I daresay. But thank you.”

Jae nodded. He then looked up at Orion. 

“By your leave then, your Highness,” he said with an abbreviated bow. 

He then nodded to the other bandits, and one by one, they all disappeared back up into the trees. 

None of the people on the ground, however, gave them much mind. All of them had turned back around to face Orion -- Carewyn felt like her heart had stopped still as she stared, taking in his neat ponytail and finely tailored black doublet and hose and boots. 

“...‘Your Highness?’ ” repeated Charlie, shocked. 

Andre’s eyes widened. “Then...then you’re...?”

Orion swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure as he nodded. His eyes were locked on Carewyn’s face, never shifting and as turbulent as a black ocean. 

“King Cosimo’s new heir,” KC breathed, her face flooding with fresh understanding around her amazement. “Cosimo VII.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #au #my art #my writing #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #andre egwu #katriona cassiopeia #other people's mcs #erika rath #bill weasley #charlie weasley #charles cromwell #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #jae kim #merula snyde #barnaby lee #tulip karasu #nymphadora tonks #diego caplan #DUN DUN DUN #oh GOSH orion :< #dramarz ahoy #now what are we going to do...? #will carewyn find jacob? #will carewyn and orion be able to stay together? #how will this impact orion's quest for peace?

[anarchy-n-glitter]

The Volkov Files

Summary: Years after the Raccoon City incident, questions arise after the body of an old friend is used to taunt Leon Kennedy on a mission. Who was Envy Snow really? Why was she in Raccoon City when the outbreak happened? When was she killed and who killed her?

FILE 1, FILE 3

FILE 2

IV

Leon looked at Envy as she stood, bent over and catching her breath. She was rather tall and pale, her hair matching that same snow white skin. She wore a blue, zip-up vest and a white skirt that was already splattered with blood. She looked at Leon through her long, doe-like lashes with eyes that resembled icy water. Her lips were parted slightly as her chest rose and fell, taking in deep breaths. However, Leon could see the deep red gashes on her upper arm that contrasted with her pale skin and stained her gloves.

“We have to get out of here.” She breathed. Leon nodded before pointing at her arm. She looked down at her arm, lifting it slightly to observe it. He got down onto one knee, leading Natalya to do the same.

“I’m aware. I didn’t have time to patch it up, as you can tell.” She said before gesturing to the dead zombies on the ground. Leon reached into a pouch on his hip and retrieved a small can. He shook it before holding out his hand. Natalya eyed it suspiciously then, slowly, she held out her arm, allowing Leon to take it. He began to spray her wound with a cold, scentless liquid that stung slightly. Natalya winced, shocked by the sudden sensation. Leon finished up quickly and reached into his pouch again to grab bandages, which he promptly began to wrap around her arm.

“Now we can get out of here.” He said. Natalya looked at him, silently figuring him out as if he were some sort of puzzle for her to solve. He was bright eyed and painfully optimistic, young too. She feared that he was a danger to himself; that he’d end up getting killed. She knew it wasn’t fair, but it was how the world worked, no matter what field of work you were in.

Natalya’s eyes glanced at the letters on his chest: RPD. She smiled in a fake manner, hoping that he knew what he was doing.

“Then lead the way.” She said. Leon took her hand and helped her up to her feet. She brought her other hand up to grasp at her wounded arm and watched as Leon cautiously walked down the hall, flashlight and gun pointed in the same direction. He seemed capable enough, but Natalya wasn’t quite ready to trust someone she just met.

Puddles splashed beneath their heels as the walls groaned and creaked. Leon was ready to fire, because he knew at any second a zombie could round the corner. Being ready meant life or death. Natalya felt incredibly vulnerable standing behind Leon. She didn’t have a flashlight of her own and the light of his wasn’t enough to illuminate their surrounding area. Something could sneak up behind her and she’d be done for.

Perhaps that is his plan, she thought to herself, maybe he knows and he’s leading me to my doom. Of course, Natalya knew that this was just paranoia. Years of being a spy took a toll on how one views the world and the people living in it. Now that Raccoon City was having its own mini apocalypse, this thought process was amped up to one hundred.

Normally she wouldn’t be so reliant on someone, but now? Now that she was out of bullets and wounded? Now she would certainly rely on someone, as long as she knew that they were trustworthy.

“How much longer?” She asked him. He glanced back at her, opening his mouth to reply, but he was stopped by the sounds of growling. He whipped his head around and focused on the rotting creature in front of him. He backed up slightly, the hand with the gun coming down and out to the side so he could shield Natalya.

“Get back!” He yelled to her, and she obliged without question. The zombie reached out at Leon, its fingers flexing and moving in unnatural ways as it attempted to grab at his warm flesh. Natalya drew a knife. It was a small pocket knife that was easily concealed by her thigh-high boots. It fit easily into her hand and remained hidden there until she knew what Leon was doing.

The zombie lunged, screeching hysterically. Leon dodged its pathetic attempts at catching him and re-aimed his gun, pointing it directly at its head. He fired, blood splattered everywhere as well as chunks of skull, but the creature was not deterred. Natalya backed up against the wall, watching wearily as the zombie went in for another attack. It grabbed Leon by the shoulders and prepared to bite, but he pulled a knife and buried it deep into the monster’s chest and pushed it away. He aimed again and took two more shots, both hitting the head of the zombie. This time it fell, collapsing to the ground with a loud THUD!

Leon walked over to it and grabbed his knife back before turning his attention to Natalya.

“Come on. I don’t think this thing is gonna stay down for long.” He told her, and she obeyed, running toward him, her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. She found herself grabbing ahold of his shoulder, allowing him to completely lead the way. They reached a door and Leon slowly opened it, peeking through the crack to be sure the coast was clear. They entered the main hall of the RPD, it was empty save for Marvin, as it usually was. Natalya broke away from Leon, looking around as he rushed over to Marvin, who was behind a screen, laying down on one of the couches.

He stopped and glanced back at Envy.

“Hey, the way out’s over here. I just gotta get Marvin and put this last piece in the thing and then we can get outta here.” He told her, gesturing to where the giant statue of a woman stood. Natalya nodded and followed him over to the back of the hall, where she finally saw the man Leon was referring to as “Marvin.” He sat on a green couch, holding his right side, which was bleeding profusely. Leon placed the last medallion into a slot on the base of the statue, and the base shifted, revealing a tunnel below the floor. Natalya stared in awe, shocked that such a place would have secret tunnels. Although, she supposed that wasn’t the oddest thing she had come across in America, especially in this city.

Leon had been a bit preoccupied, arguing with Marvin as Natalya stared into the depths of the RPD. Things got more heated behind her, but she wouldn’t realize that until she heard a gun being cocked. She turned around to see Marvin holding Leon by gunpoint.

“It’s on you now… just go!” Marvin told Leon. Leon simply stood there, looking at the dying man. Natalya came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“I understand.” Leon said before touching Natalya’s hand and turning around. The two walked down the steps together and took their first steps to reuniting with the outside world. Before they entered the tunnel below, Leon took one last look at Marvin.

2

The rookie cop, as I had heard some people call him, whether through notes or actual survivors, was a kind man who had helped me escape the RPD. I fear that, had I not met him, I might have been the only living person left in that place. I might not have made it without Leon.

He led me into a room below the RPD, which might be in your interest to investigate after this. There was a small model of the station on a desk, and it didn’t seem to have any significance, despite how many times I searched it.

Leon and I made it into some sort of boiler room, but that was when we got separated. He went ahead of me after we heard a noise. I had already picked up some ammo and reloaded my weapons, so I went to investigate. Something happened and a tunnel collapsed behind me, the last thing I remembered before that was the sounds of metal getting smashed in. I supposed maybe some sort of foundation involving pipes broke and it caused the doorway to crumble, but I wasn’t sure, so I continued on.

3

Natalya picked up a box of handgun ammo and quickly loaded it into her gun, following Leon closely into a boiler room. It was large, and, despite its size, was rather cramped. The floors were metal and echoed loudly as they walked. Steam rose from a machine below them, creating a thick fog that temporarily blinded the two. She gripped her gun tighter.

There was a loud grunt, followed by booming footsteps above them. More sounds resonated throughout the chamber, unsettling moaning that communicated pain. Leon lifted his gun again and looked back at Natalya.

“What was that?” She asked. Leon didn’t answer, instead, he continued to travel down the path. When the noises didn’t stop, Natalya froze in her tracks.

“Envy…” Leon began. Natalya lifted a finger to her lips.

“I’m going to investigate.” She told him. He wanted to tell her not to, but he knew it would do no good. It took him a few moments, but eventually he nodded. Natalya turned around and ran off in the other direction in search of some stairs.

Leon continued on the path he was taking before.

V

Transcript (translated):

September 24th, 1998

N: Leon and I were separated. I can hear the sounds of metal hitting metal from down the corridor. I might need backup, I might need to be extracted from the city; there aren’t many people left in the city and I haven’t seen Ms. Wong anywhere. Not a trace of her.

P: Who’s Leon?

N: A man I met. He knows his way around the city; a police officer.

P: What does he know of us?

N: Not much. He doesn’t even know my real name.

P: Good. I’m afraid, NV, that we cannot extract you from the city until you find Ms. Wong. You have to trade information.

N: I don’t even know if she’s alive!

P: That doesn’t matter, find her and get the information. If you cannot do that you are useless to us.

N: So if I don’t find her you’ll leave me to die here?

P: I’m afraid so. You’ll be a liability.

N: Fine.

P: Report back when you find the target.

N: Yes, sir.

(Phone line ringing.)

2

The halls were dark and quiet, save for the brief shuffling of feet coming from a zombie or two. Natalya held up a dying flashlight, one that she found on the body of a dead officer. From what she could tell, she was in a prison. Cells could be seen to her left and right, some occupied by zombs (as Natalya liked to call them), some not. They would reach through the bars, their bloody hands grabbing for her even though she was just out of their reach. She wanted to shoot them, just to be sure they didn’t get out and try to kill her later, but she knew that she was low on ammo again. Despite being in a police station, ammo was pretty scarce.

Then she saw them, a figure, a shadow moving in the darkness. She could see from their silhouette that they were wearing heels, and assumed that this person was a woman. She hid behind the wall, peaking around the corner every now and then to watch what they were doing. The woman opened the gate down the hall, entering and talking to someone. Natalya wanted to move out, but knew that she couldn’t. Silently she hoped that this woman was Ada, but she remembered Leon mentioning a woman named Claire, so the chance was slim.

She could hear two voices vaguely. They spoke in a whisper; one was a deeper voice that sounded vaguely familiar, and the other was the distinct voice of a woman. The man’s voice rose, claiming that he didn’t even know her name. Then Natalya heard it, he announced his name. “Leon Kennedy.” Natalya could feel her hopes rise and immediately became relieved now that she knew that he was okay. Heels clicked as the woman began walking down the hall.

“Name’s Ada.” She told him, her heels clicking loudly as she walked off. Natalya pressed her back against the wall and began to move away from the corner. The target was there, but she needed to see Leon again, just to make sure he was actually okay. She found a door and opened it, which led her into a closet. She hid and waited for the target to move, then she’d follow her… after she talked to Leon. She opened the door again to watch where Ada went, and once she was sure she was gone she moved toward the corner again.

She saw him standing there, reading a paper. She grabbed ahold of the bars on the gate and tried to push it open, only to realize it was locked. Leon turned around after he heard the gate rattle, gun pointed at her. His face softened as soon as he realized it was her.

“Leon?” She called out. He smiled at her.

“Envy.” He breathed out before immediately rushing over, stopping just in front of the gate.

“How’s your arm?” He asked. She smiled.

“Fine.” She reassured him. She looked over him, making sure that he didn’t have any wounds on him. He reached out to push on the gate, which didn’t budge even on his side. Natalya shook her head.

“It’s locked.” She told him. He sighed and took a step back before drawing his gun again.

“I’ll come find you.” He promised her. She shook her head again before looking behind her, eyeing the corridor Ada had gone down.

“Don’t worry about me. I have something else I need to do. Maybe we could meet up in the parking garage.” She told him. He looked over his right shoulder after hearing a groan, then he looked back to her.

“Yeah. Deal.” Natalya then ran off, attempting to catch up with Ada. Leon was left wondering what it was she had to do; and what she was doing coming from where Ada had walked in.

Natalya ran down the hallway to her left before coming to a door.

3

I had tracked Ada the best I could in the prison but I ended up losing her. I’ll admit, perhaps seeing Leon beforehand was a mistake, but I needed to know if he was okay. When I had met him, I was sure he was doomed. But, as time went on and as he fought, I realized that I was routing for him. I wanted to see him succeed in this unfair world. We would grow closer as time went on, after we had reunited of course.

As time would go on, I would fall for him. He was so optimistic; it was almost contagious. He tried his best to protect the survivors, and, if I weren’t in the predicament I am in as I write this, I would have loved to see him continue on as an officer. He had the heart for it, and he wore it on his arm for the world to see.

I just wish I could get out of here, but I can’t right now or they’d find me. And I know he’ll never see this, but I wish I could have gotten on the train with him and his friend Claire. I knew that they were following me, that man and his woman, so I knew not to lead them to the last few survivors. They’d kill them and then me.

So here I am, writing this as some sort of sick memoir. I’m hiding in a locker, shining my flashlight on this small notebook that I found on a nearby desk. I just wanted to explain how I got here, possibly even what led up to my death, if this should go in that direction. And I want-again, even though I know he won’t see it-Leon to know that, despite how short our time was together, how wonderful he was as a person. Any other person would have left me to die in the station, but you helped me.

4

Leon clutched the note in his hand, crumpling the sides slightly as he read. He couldn’t believe it. He knew she was killed, he saw her body on his last mission but… she had died years ago. The people who had killed her were tracking her in Raccoon City and she refused to go with him because she knew that they’d come for her and kill them all.

Leon knew that Wesker was involved. He had to have been, why else would he leave her body for him to see? But the thing that got him was, they preserved her body. They had planned to use her for something, whether it really was just to taunt him or for something else.

He knew that she had cared for him though, and that on its own was something to behold. Despite how emotionless she seemed, he could tell that she was fond of him. Although, from the way she worded it, it seemed like it was more of a fascination with him. Now, with this new evidence, he questioned what his life would have been like had the Raccoon City incident never happened. Would she still have come to Raccoon City to look for Ada? Would they still have met? What would have happened if Umbrella wasn’t after her? If Wesker wasn’t?

So many questions. All without answers.

5

She had lost Ada, but she gained a stalker. It was the man. The man from the party. He had come for her. Natalya was still unsure of the reason, but she knew it wasn’t good. Perhaps he knew who she was, possibly since the party, but now he was going to get rid of her. She picked up her pace, walking faster, acting like she didn’t know he was there. He walked at the same pace, allowing her to get some distance between her, but she was a tricky one. The next zomb she saw she’d throw at him and make a run for the parking garage so she could wait for Leon.

He was silent. Every part of him was silent, even the way he walked. Natalya didn’t like that.

She turned another corner, and, for once in her life she hoped a zomb would be there. There wasn’t. So she kept walking, searching every nook and cranny for ammo or other valuable items. She found a hip pouch just a few minutes earlier, and now she was looking for other things. For example, a key card so she could get the hell out of the station and out into the streets so she could lose this creep.

Natalya only had ten days left to live, and now the reaper is following her.

VI

“Leon!” Natalya shouted. He turned around immediately, watching as she struggled to run. Ada stopped dead in her tracks and watched as a familiar face ran up to them. Envy Snow, she knew her and she knew that Envy was a codename. She eyed the woman wearily, but didn’t bother to say anything to Leon, who seemed relieved and overjoyed to see her.

“You made it.” He breathed. Natalya nodded and looked over at the woman in the trench coat: Ada. She stood at the mouth of the garage, staring the two down behind her dark glasses. Natalya, for once, felt like she couldn’t be bothered with the mission. Ada was there, yeah that was great, but she didn’t feel rushed to get info out of her. She didn’t want to do the tradeoff yet, especially if it meant leaving without Leon.

Leon followed her gaze to Ada.

“Oh, Envy, this is Ada. She’s helping me get out of here.” Natalya stepped forward, smiling at the woman she knew was a spy.

“I know… we’ve met.” Ada didn’t say a word to Envy. She knew that she had to do an exchange, but she knew she couldn’t do it there. Not in front of Leon. There was a loud crashing noise from the corner of the garage which put Leon on edge. He began to move forward slowly, which in turn caught the attention of Ada and Natalya.

“I think we should get going.” He said, moving ahead of the two spies. Ada was next to get moving, but Natalya stood there staring at the wall that began to crumble as something large moved through it, going deeper into the building and moving away from them. She finally turned around to follow Leon and Ada after being sure the thing that caused the hole wasn’t going to follow them.

The streets were as she remembered them: wet and simultaneously on fire with the infected hiding behind every corner. Ada took the lead, guiding the other two through the dilapidated roads to-what they hoped to be-freedom. Leon stood protectively in front of Natalya, despite her own urge to protect him and her ability to protect herself. She would never admit it aloud, but she thought it was sweet.

Zombies toppled over crashed cars as they attempted to get to the group. Natalya would try not to jump when she heard one scream or groan, but, especially when it was a scream, she couldn’t help it. Ada walked coolly and calmly through the streets, clearing whatever she could with what little ammo she had left, leading Leon and Natalya to do the same. Gunshots would echo through the open world, which, despite what they were aiming to do, would draw more zombies to their location. They would come in droves, lunging at the group when they got close enough. Natalya grasped her pocket knife in her hand and went in for the kill. She figured if she could stab it in the head they’d die. This plan, however, only worked for certain zombies. Natalya quickly realized this as one grabbed ahold of her arm and prepared to bite into it. She panicked and tried to rip her arm away, but to no avail. Her free hand fumbled for her gun.

Her gloved fingers kept grazing the handle, but in a panic, she was unable to grab ahold immediately. Luckily, as they were walking, Leon heard the commotion. Natalya had finally managed to get ahold of herself and the gun and promptly raised it. She was still fending off the creature, trying her best to keep its gnashing teeth away from her arm. Leon rushed over, his gun aimed and at the rotting person. Natalya had managed to get her knife free with her gun hand (on accident, of course), but in the process, she had lost her hold on the creature’s head. It was about to bite down, when two gunshots rang through her ears.

The bullets had torn through the back of the zombie’s head, shattering its rotting teeth in the process. Its grasp loosened around her wrist as it fell backward, still gurgling and growling. Natalya took a moment to process what had just happened, but Leon grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to look at him and Ada.

“We gotta keep moving.” He reminded her as more of the infected closed in around the trio.

2

They were in a lab. An underground one. Leon had just gotten Ashley back, who hadn’t shut up since they got there.

Hell, she hadn’t shut up at all.

She was complaining about something he had said, something that was supposed to be a joke, but he supposed that didn’t matter to her. Scrap metal laid below them, on the ground glistening in the sunlight that leaked through the large opening above them… the one that they fell through. Leon was sure there was nothing else there, right?

Wrong.

He saw it as he observed their surroundings, laying there like some abandoned doll. Hair, as pale as it had been before. He felt himself go cold as his heart sped up. He cautiously approached the object

(or person)

in question, hoping that whatever

(or whoever)

it was hadn’t been laid there as a trap. As he grew closer, he realized that it, indeed, wasn’t a what… but a who. He couldn’t help but gasp in shock, unable to suppress what he had been feeling. He had been looking for her for seven years, and he found her… but…

She was as pale as she had been when he met her, but with more hints of grey in her complexion. Her mouth hung open, her lips looked like pale rose petals. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. She was smart, she knew what she was doing. She survived that hell only to be killed in the end. He bent down and placed his hand on her shoulder, allowing the cold flesh to come into contact with his own warm skin. She was dead alright… but for how long had she been dead?

It looked as if she had been killed recently; surely if she were killed in 1998 she would have decomposed by then, right? Everything was still intact. Her skin was flawless still, save for the puncture mark on her neck. Leon ran his hand over it, feeling the bump as if touching it would tell him what happened to her, but alas, nothing. She laid on piles of scrap metal, her body contorted in a beautiful way.

She laid with her head facing her left, her hair covering the lower part of her face and falling into her mouth. Her right arm was raised beside her head; her hand was curled into a loose fist, while the other laid over her midsection. Her legs were bent, both facing the left with one foot underneath the knee of the leg on top. She looked as if she were sleeping, but Leon knew that was far from the truth.

Why was she there? Who would have done this to her? Who could he turn to and trust enough to find him these answers?

“Leon!” Ashley screamed out, drawing his attention away from the corpse of the woman he once loved.

3

A man and woman watched a wall of screens, each with a different image being displayed. The woman’s head turned in the direction of one particular screen before leaning down to whisper something in the ear over her lover.

“That one.” She told him, her vivid green eyes glancing over at the far left of the room and pointing to the lower image. He brought the surveillance footage up and into the front, allowing it to overtake all the other screens. It showed Leon as he observed the corpse of Natalya, as he searched her for any signs of life. The woman giggled to herself, so quietly that her lover didn’t seem to notice. She watched, completely fascinated by what the man on screen was doing. He knew she was dead, right? She had been dead for years, but they knew. They knew that he was there, and they had dropped her preserved body onto the pile of trash for him to find, because he’d never know. Not like they did, at least. He’d never learn what had happened, he’d never know why they dropped her there to be found by him. He’d never understand why she had killed the spy herself.

“Looks like he’s found our present.” The man stated in his usual monotone. He laced his fingers together in front of him and continued to watch, also intrigued. He wondered what Leon would do. How would he react? Would he be able to piece this one together? Or, perhaps, he would be stuck wondering what happened for the rest of his life. It was a game to the duo; one created through jealousy and manipulation as well as their mutual love and respect… but this? This was different.

“He has…” She agreed. She then looked down at her lover and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

“I love you, you know.” She uttered in his ear. He turned his head slightly, facing the direction her voice was coming from.

“I’m aware.” He responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. She laughed and stood up straight.

“I’m going back to the labs, come down when you’re finished… and tell me what Mr. Kennedy does next.” Her lover nodded in agreement and she left promptly, allowing him to return to the screens.

4

“Thanks for saving me.” She said to him in a voice barely above a whisper. Leon smiled.

“It was no problem, really.” Ada, who was becoming impatient, turned around to face the two.

“Look, we have to hurry if we want to get out of here alive. Pretty soon there’ll be no hope for us.” She snapped. The two stared on in silence, eventually nodding in agreement and continuing on with their journey. However, Leon had some questions that needed answering.

“Was that the intel you needed?” He asked Ada. She didn’t look back when she spoke to him.

“Unfortunately no. Ben didn’t come through.” She told him. Leon processed what she had said before asking yet another question.

“Well, what exactly are you looking for?” He asked.

“More info on the people responsible for this mess.” She answered. Natalya froze in her tracks, suddenly remembering her mission. She was sure Ada knew as well, but she wasn’t going to say anything in front of Leon. Instead, she pushed past him to walk beside Ada, leaving him confused as he stood En garde.

Ada glanced at the platinum blonde out of the corner of her eye. She did, indeed, recognize the girl. She was informed that she would be sent over to exchange information. The girl would give her more insight on Umbrella, as promised, and Ada would tell her whatever she found.

She observed Natalya closely, noticing that she was a few years younger than herself. She walked with a certain confidence that not many girls her age would have. She was rather similar to Ada, in that respect. From a young age she had been confident in herself and oozed said confidence, and it showed even then… in the midst of a damn apocalypse.

Ada knew why Natalya had walked over, but she wasn’t ready to exchange just yet.

END FILE 2

#leon kennedy x oc #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x natalya volkov #natalya volkov #resident evil fanfic #leon s kennedy #resident evil oc #the volkov files #resident evil

[sirenprincess15]

Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 7

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: Aleksander struggles to find normality after his panic attack in front of Alina.

Chapter 7

Aleksander didn’t know how long he held Alina in his arms while focused only on her breathing. Every time he thought of saying something to explain why the nightmares had nearly caused the shadows to overtake them both, he was so flooded with shame that he nearly lost control again. With regret, he was going to have to tell her that she was going to have to start sleeping in the Vezda suite again. Being around his nightmares was just too dangerous for her, but he found he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her to the lonely nights. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He tried to think of the future, of how they would someday bring safety to all Grisha, but there seemed to be so many obstacles in the way. Every time he thought of how to deal with Zlatan, the nightmare threatened to resurface. It was best to stay in the now, to focus on nothing but her breathing, on their simply being. And that made it better. She made it better.

Eventually, he tired of fighting off his thoughts. “Let’s have breakfast with the other Grisha,” he suggested. It would feel good to see the others intimidated by him after letting Alina see how weak he really was inside.

“That sounds good,” she agreed. She was worried about him; he could feel it, but she seemed willing not to push and to let him have what he needed to feel better for now.

Taking a deep breath to hopefully clear off the remaining shivers of the night, he stood to dress. The kefta was his mask, his shield. It made him look strong. He turned and saw Alina dressing in her black and gold, not the formal one of the demonstration, a soft velvet one. She looked breathtaking in it. Even after seeing his vulnerabilities, she was still choosing to align herself with him. The blue ones were in the back of the closet now, and he would be happy to never see them again.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“We shall,” she smiled at him, that smile that could somehow bring joy back to his chest.

“If you would prefer to sit with Nadia, I would understand,” he whispered softly.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d very much prefer to stay by your side.” And, with that, he knew she wasn’t abandoning him. Maybe she should. There would always be darkness and pain in him, but she wasn’t going to, and he couldn’t be more relieved.

“Why don’t we ask Nadia to join us? Nadia, you, me, Ivan, and Fedyor.” That would certainly cause a stir, but Nadia had lost Marie, her best friend, whether she quite realized the how or not, and Aleksander found he did truly care if the girl was suffering from that loss. There was nothing worse than the pain of grief accompanied by abject loneliness. If Ivan joined him, that would let Alina and Nadia feel more free to talk. Ivan could fill him with some details of something in the war that needed to be solved. It would feel good to feel in control again. Of course, he would not separate Ivan and Fedyor for breakfast. There was something about the lighthearted way Fedyor got his stoic Ivan to smile that gave Aleksander hope that old hearts could still be touched.

Every voice immediately cut off the moment he strode into the dining hall. People had been mingling around talking, waiting for the food to arrive, but now all eyes were on them. Deep down, he had to admit that he enjoyed that power over them. He took Alina’s hand and led her to the special chair he so rarely ever used. She would need a matching one, he decided, but for now, he seated her to his left. He flicked his fingers up towards his palm to gesture for Ivan to come to his side. His heartrender’s response was instantaneous, and that sense of control returned to him. Aleksander gestured with his chin towards Fedyor to indicate he should come as well. The smile on Ivan’s face was subtle, just the twitch up of his lips, but it was enough to make Aleksander glad he had made that decision. He had the power to give happiness to his Grisha. “Nadia,” he called. “Please join us.”

“Me?” Nadia asked in shock, and the room exploded with whispers.

He stopped them all with his hand. Oh, yes, he did love that power. “Come,” he commanded her, then turned his attention to Ivan. He was confident enough that Alina could get Nadia settled.

As he had hoped, Ivan was able to keep his mind occupied with updates of things that, in the end, probably didn’t matter, but it was enough to keep him distracted from thoughts of the night. Giving commands, even over mundane things, let him feel himself again. He was an ancient, and the most powerful creature in any room. He would do well to remember that just because he had allowed his wrists to be bound once, did not leave him that helpless fool. He would not repeat the same mistakes again. That meant making locating the Stag priority number one.

“Updates from the hunting party?”

“Not yet, sir. I’d expect another couple of days before we hear from them. The snow does move further South this time of year, which will likely slow their movement.”

He was about to say something else when Zoya walked into the dining hall. She made straight for him, but Aleksander gave the slightest shake of his head to discourage her. She was a good soldier, and he had permitted her back in the Little Palace for her skills, but he would not have her upsetting Alina. Her face showed her frustration, and for some reason, that amused him. He nodded his head towards Ivan for her to report to, and then turned his attention to Alina and Nadia.

“Nadia, I never got the chance to thank you for making Alina feel so welcome here. I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. It means a great deal to me that you would offer her friendship.” He would be sure to keep her assigned to the Little Palace or in Alina’s guard as the squaller reached the end of her training.

Ivan leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Zoya found someone trying to sneak into the Little Palace.”

“Someone picked the wrong day to irritate me.” He would never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. He tried to spare people when he could, but there was no chance someone was accidentally breaking into the Little Palace. When consequences were due, he did rather enjoy the way using his power made him feel. There was nothing like holding a man’s life in the subtlest movement of his fingers to banish the haunted memories of being helpless.

“I’m sorry, my dear, something has come up that requires my personal attention. Please, enjoy your breakfast with Nadia.” Well aware all eyes were on them, he gently kissed her. Let them see her marked as his.

He stood and motioned for Ivan to accompany him and Zoya. As he past Fedyor’s chair, he leaned in and whispered, “Stay right with Alina today. Have Inessa assist you. Do not let her go out on the grounds. There may be a second attempt. Do not leave her alone for anything. I am trusting you with her life.”

“I would die for her, sir,” Fedyor said without hesitation. “She will not be harmed on my watch.”

“As would we all.” He wasn’t sure Fedyor heard his response, but he would give everything to keep her alive and safe.

#darklina #alina x darkling #aleksander x alina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan #kirigan x alina #alina x kirigan

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 19

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky make the drive back home where he’s introduced to the family as your fake boyfriend. Absolutely everything is going to go great.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Domestic fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

AO3

The trip from New York to Boston was four hours filled with awkward silence. The only sounds to punctuate the tension were those of the drive itself, the hum of the engine, the sound of the windshield wipers, and the hiss of tires on wet pavement.

It was snowing fairly heavily, so when Bucky had offered to drive, you hadn’t given it a second thought. Chances of icy roads were high, and you figured he probably had some fast demon reflexes he could rely on to get you there safely.

Plus, it gave you an excuse to sneak subtle glances while he drove. Bucky was distractedly handsome in profile, and you wondered if he understood just how attractive he was. Even with his demon features hidden, tucked away under a kind of magical illusion you still didn’t understand, there was something about him that was… different. Like he was just a little too perfect to exist in the real world.

Or maybe you had it worse than you thought. You had half-hoped your feelings for him after the heigore attack had been the result of your close brush with death. That you had just been overwhelmed with gratitude and your self-confession had been a mistake. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case, and with each feeding you were only falling deeper in love with Bucky.

This trip, having him spend time with your family, in your childhood home, was only going to make it worse.

Shit.

The click of the turn signal drew you from your thoughts, and you looked out the snow-battered windshield to find the car exiting on the off-ramp. You hadn’t been paying attention but Bucky had known which exit to take without your guidance. An overwhelming mixture of emotions bubbled in your chest. You didn’t know what to do with them.

Ten minutes of navigating the streets of suburban Boston and you reached your destination. Bucky pulled up to the curb, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. You couldn’t stop staring up at the two-story house, looking quaint and delicate covered in fresh snow. You hadn’t been here since last Christmas, and you didn’t know how to feel about it now. Too many things had happened and you weren’t the same. The last person who had walked into that house was a stranger to you now.

“Ready?”

Maybe he sensed your trepidation because Bucky’s question was soft and patient. You gave him a quick nod, unable to meet his eye. If you did, you’d start blushing all over again, reminded of how insane this plan was. But it was your plan, and if anything you were stubborn enough to see it through.

You got out of the car, immediately shivering and pulling your coat tighter around you as the snowflakes hit your face. You quickly opened the backseat and pulled out the carrier, shielding it with your body so poor Monster wouldn’t get pelted with snow.

You had always taken Monster on you with trips back home, and this would be no exception, even when Bucky had told you ‘the little beast can make it there on his own.’ When you asked what he meant, he’d tried to explain interdimensional travel through ‘wrinkles in physical space’ but your brain had shut off around that point. It had sounded more like a Tony Stark thing than hobgoblin magic, but what the hell did you know about cracks in the foundation of the physical realm?

Hurrying up to the front step, you shivered and scraped your boots on the doormat. You were just about to reach up to the doorbell when a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

You looked up at Bucky and he gave you a raised, amused brow. Right. Stage one of your plan and you’d already forgotten. Operation: Pretend to Have a Hot Boyfriend Who is Clearly Way out of Your League.

With an arm still slung around your shoulder Bucky reached up and pressed the doorbell. You clutched the carrier nervously, swallowing as the chimes echoed inside the house, accompanied by the sound of barking.

You’d forgotten Uncle Walter was bringing one of his dogs.

Shit. Shit.

Bucky stiffened beside you and your heart raced in panic. What if the dogs could sense he was a demon? They could tell these things, couldn’t they? Monster seemed to like Bucky, but he wasn’t a typical cat, and you were realizing you might be in over your head way more than you had originally thought—

The door swung open and you were pulled into a pair of warm arms in a tight hug before you could open your mouth to say hi. Bucky managed to retrieve the carrier from your hand as your mother hugged you tightly, squeezing the rest of the air out of your lungs.

“I missed you so much, sweetie! How was the drive? Did you have any trouble getting here? They said it was going to snow at least five inches and I know your car doesn’t handle the snow. You really should buy a new one, I keep telling you to—Oh, hello. You must be Jacob.”

Your mother finally released you, allowing you to breathe and try to sort out her whirlwind of questions, but all you could do was watch with a pounding heart as she turned to face Bucky.

You’d planned out most of the details of your fake relationship on the drive over. How long you’d been dating, where you’d met, etc. etc. It helped that Bucky already had a false identity that any of your family could look up if they wanted to (and they would, knowing how nosey they were), but…

…it didn’t prepare you for the actual encounter. Bucky had assured you he could handle himself, but now you were terrified. Not for your family for having a demon in their midst, but for the poor demon that was about to be exposed to the embarrassment that was your family.

“I am, ma’am,” Bucky said with a smooth, charming smile full of white teeth. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You blinked. The person you were looking at wasn’t Bucky. Or if it was, he was a Bucky you didn’t know. There was a bright, sincere smile on his face, lighting up his blue eyes in ways you didn’t think was possible. He held out his hand to her, the absolute picture of a polite gentleman, and you didn’t recognize the grump, cantankerous demon you’d come to know at all.

Your mom broke into a smile herself, something you’d never seen her do with a stranger before.

“Oh, come here, give me a hug.”

Before you could say anything, she drew Bucky into a tight hug, leaving you stunned and speechless. She had never warmed up to any of the (few) boyfriends you’d brought home, and now she was embracing him like Bucky was…

…part of the family.

Oh, no.

What was possibly worse was the vaguely amused smile Bucky was giving you over her shoulder. You couldn’t blame him; the look on your face was probably quite the sight.

By the time your mother pulled back from the hug, Bucky’s charming poster boy smile was back on his face. Where he’d learned to do that, you had no idea, but your mother seemed immediately enamored.

Greeting Aunt Rena and Uncle Walter next was more intense. Not because of them, they were both sweet and welcoming to Bucky, but because of the dog. They’d left most of their small herd of Chihuahuas at home, thankfully, and Uncle Walter had only brought the one—his oldest. She was an ancient thing, white fur covering her face, but she ran up to Bucky as if she had very important business to attend to.

Bucky froze as if the dog was a Doberman and not a wad of fur that barely weighed five pounds. She sniffed at the toes of his boots, and then his ankles, unable to reach higher, and she stared up at him through big glassy eyes.

When you sure she was about to start growling or barking, warning the humans of the demon amongst them, she jumped up onto her hind legs and scratched at his leg, wagging her tail and drawing her lips back into a doggy grin.

“Honey never likes anyone,” Aunt Rena said with a startled look at your uncle before looking back to Bucky. “You must be a dog-person.”

Bucky had knelt down and cautiously put his right hand forward after pulling off the glove. He kept his demonic arm covered, and would have to do so for the entire trip, but he let the dog sniff his human hand.

When he went to pet her, she jumped up and licked his chin, startling a laugh out of him. Like all the other rare times you’d heard him laugh, it left you warm and flushed and gawking like an idiot.

“Yeah, I used to be,” Bucky answered, still smiling. He had pulled the little Chihuahua into his arms where she squirmed happily, still trying to lick his face. “Haven’t had a dog in a few years.”

There was a hint of wistful sadness there so faint you wondered if anyone else but you noticed. You hoped they didn’t. It was stupid and childish, but you were starting to feel… jealous? Left out? Over the fact everyone adored your fake boyfriend, and he seemed to like them back.

“I’m going to go get the bags,” you said, setting down Monster’s carrier and opening the door. The hobgoblin sauntered his way out of the cage and peered around as if looking over his kingdom.

Honey hunkered down in Bucky’s arms, trembling and whining at the sight of the pseudo-cat. The dogs had always been terrified of Monster, even though he’d largely ignored them, and now you knew why. Apparently they were fine with demons, but hobgoblins went too far.

“I’ll grab them,” Bucky immediately volunteered with an easy smile, setting the Chihuahua gently on the ground. You narrowed your eyes at him, seeing right through his attempts to win over your family, which was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. So why were you suddenly so annoyed about it?

“Be right back.”

Bucky kissed you on the head before retreating out the front door, and just like that, your annoyance was gone and filled instead with mortifying embarrassment when all three adults gave you various expressions of affectionate fondness and teasing.

You didn’t know if anyone had ever died from being kissed on the forehead, but if not, you were going to be the first.

Bucky brought in the bags and your mother directed him up to the guest bedroom. You were trapped downstairs for the next half hour with the obligatory catching up with your family, which was a trial even during the best of times, let alone right now when you were desperate to get away to talk to Bucky. He hadn’t come back downstairs since putting away the bags, and you’d wondered where he’d disappeared to.

Sure, they were your family, but you didn’t want to have to suffer with them alone.

When you were able to finally excuse yourself, pointedly ignoring your mother’s curious look, you went upstairs and found Bucky in the guest bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression blank and far away. The snow in his hair had melted and dried, leaving his long brown strands slightly wavy.

“Bucky?”

He drew in a sharp breath and looked up at you, blinking before rubbing his face.

“Sorry. Was… lost in thought. I didn’t mean to—I can come down if—“

You interrupted him by sitting beside him on the bed, close enough for your arm to brush his, but you didn’t reach out to touch him. You had a suspicion as to what had happened, and your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re a little weird at first, but they mean well. I can tell them to lay off if they’re being too much.”

To your surprise, Bucky merely smiled. It was close-lipped and soft, but somehow still warm. Once you met his eye you couldn’t look away, and a part of you wondered if he realized the hold he had on you. A power that had nothing to do with demon pacts and bonds.

“It’s not that. Your aunt and uncle are wonderful, and your mom is… She reminds me of my own mother.”

It took everything in your power not to reach out and hug him, and you gripped the edge of the better tighter so you wouldn’t.

“What’s wrong, then?”

Bucky chewed his lip and looked away. It wasn’t until his gaze fell on the closet on the opposite side of the room that it finally clicked for you.

“Oh.” The breath rushed out of you as if you’d been gut-punched. “I didn’t… think to warn you.”

Of all the things you could have forgotten, how could you forget to tell him you would be staying in your old room? The room where he’d first come through the portal. Where the pact had first been made. Where you’d first met in an encounter you didn’t remember, the memories taken away by Buck himself?

“This is where your bed used to be,” he said, slightly patting the mattress you were both sitting on. “Only it was sideways against the wall. You had a dresser over there. Some kind of poster on that wall; I think it had dinosaurs on it. And…”

His brows furrowed but a small smile touched his lips. “A large stuffed animal cat in that corner. You really liked cats, didn’t you?”

You hunched your shoulders, but it was too late to stop the warmth on your cheeks. He really remembered all that?

“Yeah. Cats were my thing, I guess.”

Remaining quiet for a moment, you finally had the courage to ask. “Should… should we rent a hotel? I mean, if it’s too… too weird staying here. Because of… you know. The whole portal thing… and… all that.”

“Why would it be weird for me?”

His genuinely confused tone forced you to look him in the face. He really didn’t seem to understand what you were getting at judging by the furrow on his brow.

“It sounded like it had been kind of traumatizing for you, right?” you asked. “I mean, I really don’t mind if you want to go somewhere else—“

He said your name, softly and with so much fondness it made your face burn again.

“I don’t think I’ve made this clear, but… you saved me that day. Did you know that?”

You shook your head, eyes firmly planted on the faded pink carpet under your feet.

“Well, you did,” he continued, his voice a gentle rumble that sent chills up your spine. “I was in a literal Hell before I came through that portal. And I was trapped there for a long, long time. I don’t know how you did it, and frankly, I don’t really care. I’m just grateful it happened, though I wish…”

You chanced a glance up at him when he stopped speaking, forcing yourself to meet his eye no matter how difficult it was. This seemed important to him, so it was important to you, too.

His blue eyes roved over your face slowly, as if memorizing every detail, and it was very difficult to keep still under that piercing stare. It had always had the strange effect of both making you want to hide from it while also making you want to drown in it.

“I wish what had followed hadn’t happened. If I hadn’t accepted that toy from you, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t be trapped, forced to be a… a sex slave.”

“A sex slave?” You scoffed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Bucky, I’m not a—“

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, desperate and earnest, as if needing you to understand. “That’s exactly what you are. No matter how we dress it up. You bringing me home to your family doesn’t change that. Nothing will.”

You turned away from him, now out of frustration rather than shyness.

“Bucky, we’ve been over this already. However this happened, whatever the situation is, I’m not going to blame you. You’re not a monster, you’re not hurting me, and I refuse to hate you no matter how much you hate yourself.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, and interrupted him to say, “I like you, Bucky. Okay? I like you a lot. So… shut up.”

His brows rose high on his forehead and you flushed but refused to look away, ready to argue with him if he refused to listen.

But all Bucky did was smile the tiniest amount and said, “I haven’t had someone tell me to shut up in a long time. Maybe it was due.”

He was definitely teasing you now, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed. You much preferred teasing over self-loathing.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you say dumb stuff.” You raised your chin, daring him to contradict you. “You’re kind, likeable. Charming. My family is already about to adopt you and they’ve known you for less than a day.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause they don’t know me. If anything, they’re fond of the chipper, bright-eyed idiot I used to be. That’s where I’m pulling that act from. My methods may be a few decades old but parents are parents.”

“You weren’t an idiot,” you said softly, remembering now the pictures you had pulled up when you first researched the demon you’d encountered in your bedroom. He really had been the starry-eyed youth Bucky described, but you remembered very clearly the stark difference between some pictures during the war. The ones where he’d looked like any other young man in his 20s, excited to go off and fight for his country.

And then there had been the ones where he’d still smiled at the camera, but his cheeks had been gaunt, the circles under his eyes dark, and the glaze of his eyes had been haunting.

The after-HYDRA pictures.

Blowing out a breath, trying to expel your sadness physically as well as mentally, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You waited to see if he tensed or moved away, but all you felt was the warm hardness of the plates of his arm underneath his jacket.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, voice equally soft. “I could have been the biggest idiot in the world. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was. Steve would agree with me.”

“Steve Rogers?” you asked, perking up. Captain Rogers’ backstory was practically known to everyone on the planet, and you’d waited for Bucky to mention him. You’d never imagined you’d get to know Steve Rogers’ best friend. Or that his best friend had turned into a demon.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, voice lilted with amusement. You took it as a sign that this was a safe topic, so you pressed on.

“What was he like?”

Bucky snorted again, and you weren’t expecting the arm that wrapped around your shoulders. You prayed he didn’t feel your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Reckless. Too eager to jump into a fight he knew he would lose. Stupid and brave in equal parts. Reminds me of you, actually.”

“Thanks.”

He chuckled at your dry tone. “I mean it, though. About the brave thing. Most people would have turned tail and run at the first sight of me.”

You shrugged under his arm, nestling your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not brave. I’m afraid, all the time, of lots of things. But you didn’t scare me.”

He squeezed his arm tighter around you and a pleasant warmth prickled along your skin.

“You probably should have been. Not very smart of you to try and befriend a demon.”

“Hmm. Guess we’re both idiots then, huh.”

“Guess so.”

After a few seconds of silence, you added, “So, we’re definitely friends then, right?”

“Oh, my God,” he groaned.

“You did say I befriended a demon—“

“Woman.”

You snorted out a laugh, and his long-suffering sigh brought out a few more muffled giggles. He was too easy a target, and you were pretty sure he liked the teasing regardless of how much he moaned and groaned about it.

Besides, he hadn’t contradicted you. Knowing that he saw you as at least a friend, if nothing else, made the trip already worthwhile.

You could have remained like that for the rest of the day, leaning against Bucky’s warm side with his heavy arm around your shoulders. Hell, you would have been content with this for the rest of your life.

Did Bucky have any idea how you felt? What would he have thought, if he did? Knowing his levels of self-loathing, he wouldn’t be ready to hear it.

Which was one of the reasons you had invited him on this trip. All the excuses you had given Bucky were true: you had the feeding to think about, and there was the possibility of other demons lurking around.

But the true reason you’d asked him to come was to show him how you felt. That you trusted him, cared for him, and wanted him to be a part of your life, bond or not. There was always the chance it would backfire and that he would push you away again, but you would rather try and fail then never try at all. Imagining leaving Bucky alone during the holidays, holed up in that freezing tower, was unacceptable.

He would just have to suffer with overbearing family, Christmas carols on the TV, and heavily-spiked eggnog with you instead.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Bucky said, gentle puffs of air tickling your hair. “Don’t want them to think I abducted you.”

“Mmm.”

You’d meant to say something more intelligent than that, but you hadn’t realized how tired you were from packing this morning and then the drive. It was getting close to dinnertime, and you could already smell the spices from something being cooked downstairs.

“Come on.”

Bucky easily lifted you to your feet and you protested with a resentful sigh. His returning smile made your stomach do funny flips, but it was nothing compared to the squirming it did when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Bucky for the next few days.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Next Chapter

#bucky barnes #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky barnes x reader #my writing #my fanfiction #branded

[whumpinggrounds]

“Do You Trust Me?”

very very late entry to day 4 of @whumptober2021. new characters because maybe i should start 5 new WIPs right??? right

themes will be medieval whump, environmental whump, etc.

CW: uhhh some angst???

The stiff velvet of Prosper’s formal vest is making his arms itch, even through his tunic. The uniform is uncomfortable, a little too tight. It had been tailored over a year ago and Prosper has done a lot of training since then. The fabric groans a bit at the seams as Prosper shifts.

Beside him, Prosper’s mother squeezes his arm, and the young soldier can’t tell if she’s trying to reassure him, or herself. When he sneaks a glance at her, Prop sees she’s already fighting back tears. She’s taking the deep, slow, measured breaths she always takes when she’s trying not to break down. By now, it’s a sound that Prop knows well. A deep, slow ache starts in his chest.

Up in front of all the crowds of people, the king is droning on about honor and duty and justice. Prosper knows he should be paying attention, but he’s heard too many of these speeches already. Too well trained to defy in any meaningful way, Prop lets himself tune out, instead spending his time scanning the assembled crowd. Before the king’s low, sonorous voice has stopped, Prosper has idly dreamed up four different ways to defend the king from an attack on any side.

In the deepest, most secret part of his brain, Prosper has dreamed up twice as many ways of killing the man sitting next to the pontificating ruler.

When the speech finally comes to an end, Prosper comes to attention without giving any indication he’s been ignoring it. His mother jostles his arm, and when he sneaks a look at her, she’s aiming a strained smile his way. She lifts her eyebrows and Prosper knows the question she’s asking.

Ready?

The impulse to sulk is in him, the impulse to fold his arms and toss his head and stare her down, answer with the empire’s own truth. Do I have a choice?

But it’s his mother. It’s his mother, and she’s not any happier about this than Prosper is. He offers her a smile, and then when King Lorcan calls his name, Prosper stands.

The rigid parade posture comes to Prosper like second nature. His back is ramrod straight, shoulders rolled back, palms pressed flat against the sides of his thighs. In his head, his sister’s voice plays, Reverie calling him her little toy soldier.

It still hurts to think of Reverie. Prosper blinks the memory away and marches forward. Heavy pile maroon carpet crushes beneath his feet and Prosper can’t help thinking idly of how stupid this all is – the fanfare, the exposure, the inherent danger of carrying a dinky pretty little rapier, rather than his flail, or his staff, or his broadsword. Gods above and gods below, Prop doesn’t even have armor on, just stupid fancy fabrics that convey his new, unwanted status. As he marches through the ranks of bright-eyed nobles, it becomes easier to remember that none of that matters. There are no threats here. The only threats are the ones that the crown prince will ride out and create for him.

At the end of the carpet waits the king, standing on the dais beside his son and his wife. The crown prince and the queen, Prosper corrects himself silently. He’ll be too close, from now on, for the kind of casual disrespect he’s always allowed himself before. The king is standing with the queen on his left and the crown prince on his right. A perfect royal portrait. Prosper bites down hard on his scowl.

When he reaches the lowest step of the dais, Prosper drops automatically to one knee, bowing his dark head and stretching his right hand forward in mute supplication. Sword hand extended empty before the king, he waits for the majesty’s word.

“Knight Prosper has already distinguished himself, despite his youth.”

King Lorcan’s voice rolls through the room, authoritative, deep and booming. The perfect voice for a monarch.

“Without fear of death or injury, he has covered himself in glory.”

Prosper wonders if, in the back of the hall, the mention of death has set his mother to tears. He remains where he is, stock-still, posture perfect, frozen.

“As the foremost knight in the land, as the foremost knight in his generation-”

It takes all of Prosper’s energy not to snarl at that, not to gnash his teeth. As the foremost knight in the generation left alive. The king’s forgotten a crucial part of that equation, but he would, wouldn’t he?

“-it is time to award him the highest honor one such as he can receive.”

Taking a deep breath, Prosper steels himself, schools his face into studied, cold indifference.

“Rise, Knight Prosper, first son of the royal guard.”

Like clockwork, like a mechanical doll, like a little toy soldier animated by strings, Prosper rises from his knee, comes to stand before the king, eyes turned up to fix on his face. He keeps his gaze there, stubbornly, until the crown prince steps into his line of vision.

The other man stands on the step just above Prosper, so that the knight has to keep his head tilted up to look in the crown prince’s eyes. The prince’s eyes remain mild, his face set in a small, easy smile. Prosper burns to see it, burns with the desire to bury his dinky fucking rapier right in the stupid royal’s gut.

“Prosper.”

The crown prince’s voice is gentle, friendly, far too quite for the massive reception room. Not to mention – he’s supposed to say Knight Prosper, and he should know that. Gods above and below know that he’s done this enough times. With effort, Prosper nods, and keeps his face free of the longed-for scowl.

“Prosper, will you take my hand?”

The crown prince has his arm stretched out, his right hand crossed in front of him and reaching. Wordless, unflinching, entirely upright, Prop stretches out his right arm and clasps the prince’s forearm, high up, just below his elbow. When the prince returns the favor, Prosper grinds his teeth to hold in the waiting scream.

The king’s sonorous voice rings out, and relief makes Prosper’s grip loosen the tiniest bit. “Knight Prosper, first son of the royal guard, you are hereby called Knight Primary, first adventurer of the kingdom, pride of our army and guard of my son. Do you accept this duty as it is charged to you?”

“I accept.”

“Crown Prince Griffin, you are hereby given this knight, to guide and to use, to travel with you as your sword, your shield, your shadow and your second self. Do you accept this life as it is given to you?”

“I accept.”

When the king was speaking, Prosper could lift his gaze to him. Now, he has to return his eyes to the level brown gaze of the crown prince. He fights the downward tug of his lips as the crown prince clears his throat, and once again, speaks far too softly. “Will you fight for me, go along with me, guide me and guard me, as long as we live and breathe? Will you travel with me, adventure with me, and follow where I lead?”

Hand gripping tight to the crown prince’s forearm, Prosper opens his mouth and lets the words flow out. “My sword is yours, and the hand that holds it. My shield is yours, and the arm that bears it. My skill will be your weapon and my body will be your shield. Forever after you will be first to me, and as long as I live, I will follow where you lead.”

With what seems like genuine gratitude, the crown prince dips his chin. The look in his eyes makes Prosper hate him more. “I take you and I trust you, knight primary.”

“I am yours to take and trust.”

The words taste like ash in Prosper’s mouth, but it hardly matters. The king has already stepped around them, and with the completion of the vows, he taps the flat side of his own ceremonial blade against the two clasped arms. “Thus, they are sealed,” he declares, and all thought is lost in the sound of the cheering, uproaring crowd. It’s a good thing knights are supposed to be stoic, because Prosper can’t muster so much as a grin in the midst of all the cheering. He releases the crown prince’s hand and steps away, prepared to retreat to the ten paces allowed him.

Before he can do that, the crown prince grabs his hand. Prosper badly wants to shy from the contact, but instead he just freezes, eyes downcast, and waits. “Prosper. Hey.”

“Yes, Crown Prince?”

If Prop knows the prince as well as he thinks, then the man above him is rolling his eyes. “Please, Prosper. Will you call me Griffin?”

“If so ordered, your majesty.”

A barely restrained sigh, that Prosper can still somehow hear, over the sound of the babbling crowd. “Then consider it an order.” Prosper bites back a scowl and replies with a curt nod. He still won’t look at the crown prince – Griffin, if he’s to insist on being called that.

When Griffin speaks again, his voice is soft again, almost imploring, and the overpowering urge to hurt him surges up in Prosper once more. He wants the prince to shut up, grow up, stop being so soft-voiced and vulnerable in public all the time. Instead, he gets this.

“I know you’re probably scared. Or, or, or worried about this, or maybe upset. But it’ll be a good thing, Prosper, for both of us.” Prosper can hear the smile, the foolish blind faith in the crown prince’s voice. “I trust you.”

“Thank you, Majesty,” Prosper mumbles, disobeying two orders as he all but wrenches his hand from Griffin’s grasp. The crown prince tries to follow him, but Prosper melts into the crowd, hanging back at the exact right distance that won’t earn him any reprimand. Lost in the shuffle, he watches Griffin give up, shift back into being the crown prince – turning side to side and smiling, waving, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. All the while a hate burns in Prosper, a rage so deep and sick he thinks he feels his fingers shaking where they twitch by his rapier.

He’s too well-trained to do it. Prosper knows that, and apparently, Griffin does too. Griffin said he trusted Prosper, and well he should. What he didn’t ask, nor the king, nor the vows, was if Prosper trusted him, which Prosper is ready to answer with a loud, resounding, hall-filling no.

#prosper and the prince #angst #do you trust me #trust fall #whumptober #whumptober2021 #whumptober2021day4 #whumptoberday4 #whump writing #knight whumpee #prince #prince and knight