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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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Buckle Up

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warning: road head, cursing

word count: 3,000

a/n: I was supposed to write this when I was having a denied writers block, but here we are out of it and able to write what i was supposed to!!!! enjoy!!!! also you wanted to be tagged in this @lady-bakuhoe, so good morning jo!!!

edit: ROAD HEAD IS DANGEROUS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT IRL IF YOU WANNA SUCK DICK ON THE ROAD PULL OVER TO THE SIDE!!!!!!! NO HORNINESS IS WORTH DEATH!!!!!

Synopsis: On your way for a weekend getaway, Bakugou is having trouble staying awake, and you have an unconventional way at waking him up.

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“Are they really fucking sleeping right now?”

You turned around in the passenger seat. Humming you looked at the five people currently all knocked out in their seats. Kirishima sat behind the driver’s seat, his head against the door as his mouth was wide and hung open. Mina was in the middle seat, her body draped against Kirishima’s and Jirou’s lap as she snored. Jirou was by the window on your side. Her eyes are tight and closed as she held Mina’s legs, her chest rising and falling as puffs of air left her mouth. In the back seat, Sero and Kaminari were very sprawled in each other’s arms as drool escaped their mouths. Your lips pursed as you turn back around a grin on your face as your boyfriend grips the steering wheel.

“They are,” you confirm Bakugou’s suspicion as he rolls his eyes.

“They said they weren’t going to fall asleep too,” he growls as his foot falls heavier against the gas pedal. “I should crash the goddamn car right now!”

Placing your phone back to where Bakugou could see the directions, you smacked his arm.

“You are not crashing this ‘goddamn car!’” You laugh as your boyfriend rolls his eyes again. “I am not dying because you won’t let Kaminari or me drive.”

“Of course I wasn’t going to trust dunce face to drive the fucking car, he would crash it the second he saw an opening.” Bakugou lies as his head pressed against the headrest. “I’m not letting you drive because the last time that happened you managed to make all four tires go flat.”

“Aw, it’s not because you love me?” You tease as Bakugou glares at you, but the way his cheeks and ears tinge red tell you a different story. “Besides the tire popping wasn’t my fault! Mina dared me to go in reverse on those pikes and mama didn’t raise no pussy.”

“You cried for four months when you had to pay off that bill, dumbass.”

“But I did it, so STILL mama didn’t raise a goddamn pussy!”

Bakugou snorts as his left-hand falls from the wheel placing itself on his lap. You grin at his not so subtle sign of him wanting you to hold his hand. Taking your right hand, you take his in yours and pull it towards you. His hands were forever clammy but they exhausted heat. They were large enough to completely drown yours as you slipped your fingers through his. Placing a kiss to the top of his hand you smiled at the way the car shifted in the lane.

Flustering Bakugou was the highlight of your life.

“‘Suki, I’m so proud of you,” you whisper as the car is silent. The road is empty before you two, nothing else was awake but the moon in the sky. A small questioning grunt emits from Bakugou’s mouth as you turned toward him. Your smile growing as he looks your way. “It’s ten at night and you’re still functioning? My little old man is growing young again!”

Those words made Bakugou tears his hand from yours. His eye twitching as he pivots away from you, his body hunched over the wheel.

Your chuckles were muffled over your hand as Bakugou growled about shitty girlfriends and shitty friends. So-called friends who wouldn’t let him drive during the day.

“It’s a compliment, ‘suki! I usually have to make you excited to have you up until ten!”

“Yeah, because you’re a fucking brat who refuses to do anything until past nine.”

“I may be a brat, but I always give fine rewards.”

“Yeah sure, now shut up, you’re annoying and distracting me.”

It didn’t take very long for Bakugou to start talking to you again. All it took was a small threat of joining the girls in their tent instead of his. So now you sat with your legs on his lap, your hand over his own as he stroked your leg with senseless shapes. Your eyes fall over to the clock, it’s almost midnight and your ass hurts. Shifting in your seat your eyes lock onto Bakugou who is trying to stifle a yawn. His jaw is down as a low breath of air escapes his lips and you move your leg to let him know that you caught him mid-yawn.

“Come on, ‘suki,” you try again. “I’m not tired, please let me drive.”

“I’m not letting you fucking drive, y/n.”

His hand on your leg has stopped moving. The raw heat emitting from his palm burns through your sweats as you glare at him.

“I don’t want to die on the road because of you falling asleep behind the wheel!” You whisper, your tone is deadly as your legs pull from his lap and you lean in close.

“You’re not going to fucking die, shitty woman!” Bakugou sneers as he rolls his head on his shoulders, the muscles popping as he does so. “Like hell, I’d let that… let that happen!”

You roll your eyes as your boyfriend is forcing himself to swallow his yawns now. Bakugou was someone who will push himself to the edge to prove a point, so you weren’t going to let him win. Not in this situation, now or ever.

“Of course you won’t, but you’re yawning and that’s why you’re going to pull over and let me drive. By the time I’m tired Kirishima should be awake again!”

“Fucking make me pull over.”

Your back stiffens as you stare at Bakugou. His vermillion eyes lock on you as long as he can before they shift back onto the road.

Bakugou Katsuki was as wrapped around your little finger as much as you were also wrapped around his. Bakugou Katsuki was also vehement and stubborn but hell, so could you be. His stubbornness concerned not only your wellbeing but everyone currently asleep. Not only that but the health of your boyfriend! So you were going to do everything in your power to get him to pull over. Your fingers trailed to the red button that held your seat belt. And without so much as thinking more about it, your finger pressed down on it.

“There’s a gas station in eight kilometers, I’ll get out to stretch if that’ll make you hap— what the fuck are you doing?!” Bakugou’s eyes are on you as you slip the belt from your shoulder, shifting closer to him. “Y/n, this isn’t fucking funny, put your goddamn seat belt on!”

“Make me,” you whisper as your lips meet his jaw.

Bakugou stills as your mouth caresses his skin your lips trailing down his throat which is strained under your touch. Fact number one, Bakugou was a sucker for neck kisses. Your hands shook slightly as your body swayed with the movement of the car. The continuous snoring of your friends in the back seat made your heart race as your teeth nibble at his caramel tasting skin. Your hands trailed down his chest that heaved with quickened breaths. The way his hands gripping the wheel as you reached his naval making you whimper. Fact number two, Bakugou’s eyes always flutter close when your fingers graze his inner thigh.

“Y/n…” Bakugou whines as quiet as he can as his shoulder tries boxing you out. “Stop.”

His tone is warning but you know that these actions are frying his brain. As you huff against a hickie you formed on his skin, you pull away as you press against his arm. “Pull over now.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Fine,” you sigh as your fingers unbuckle his own seat belt.

“Y-Y/n!” His voice shakes despite him snapping and the car swerves. “Don’t fucking do that!”

“You said I had to make you pull over,” you smirk as your fingers hook in the waistline of his baggy grey sweats. “I have to make you do it.”

“Fucking wait seven kilometers,” he grits as you shrug.

“Oh I don't think I can,” you sigh as you get his sweat pants down his thigh. You’re met with his grey underwear, your fingers brushing on top of his now growing hard bulge as he groans lowly. “Better keep quiet love, we don’t wanna wake them up to me sucking your dick.”

“You’re not fucking sucking my dick,” Bakugou twitches. He's trying not to give in but his hips buck against your palms that come to rub small circles onto his cock. You glance up at him, his eyes fluttering as they fight to stay upon despite his natural instinct to close them. You knew at his next words, you had him on board. “Baby girl…”

“Do you not want me to suck your dick?” You whisper as his eyes shift back to you. Despite the darkness of the night, you can see his blown wide pupils when he stares at you. His eyes swim with love, lust, and desire, and his lips press together as his left under shoves his underwear down. His eyes return to the road as his fingers grip the steering wheel so tight they turn white. He wants this. “I hope you can keep that mouth of yours closed,” you giggle as your fingers firmly grip the base of his hardening cock.

The sharp intake of breath from Bakugou throat when your fingers made contact with his dick was sinful as it was silent. He leaned against your body, your shoulder momentarily brushing against the wheel before you gently pushed him back. You smirk as you look up at him, but Bakugou’s eyes remain stubborn and they’re steady on the road ahead. So your hand grips around his girth as his head drops to the wheel.

You maintained eye contact with your boyfriend’s flustered face as he swerved the car again before he returns to his upright position. Not satisfied with his refusal to pull over to the side, you lowered your head towards his throbbing cock. Your lips are the first to make contact with his heated dick. You trail soft and puckered kisses along its side before your tongue runs down the side of his dick. Looking at the strip of saliva, you blow a gentle and cold stream of air as you slide back up his dick. Bakugou lets out a whistled breathe at the cool contact. His hips stuttering under your fingers as his hand presses against your back.

His hand grips the clasp of your bra, teasing it and toying with it most likely to distract you. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned in life was to keep a one-track mind when it came to Bakugou.

As you make your way back up to his tip, you feel with delight when your thumb swipes and spreads the hot pre-cum that gathered there. Sticking out your tongue, you lay it flat against the slit on his head as you teasingly massage his dick between your fist. Bakugou let out a rough breath through his nose as his arms tremble because of the grip he holds. The sight of Bakugou once again refusing how this was making him feel made you moan softly against his skin. Your thighs rubbing together as you shift to ease the building pleasure within you. Bakugou lets out a ragged breath as his eyes shift to the rearview mirror, no one has stirred.

With his attention on your friends, you catch him by surprise when you envelop him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his head as you took his length deeper into your mouth, and the hand on your back burns you as nails dig into your skin. He likes this.

Once you feel his tip hit the back of your throat you sink only further down his length. You choke slightly against his dick, but you know it’s not loud enough to wake up your snoring friends. It doesn’t stop Bakugou’s eyes from widening at your actions and noises. He's moaning softly himself as he tried to quiet your vulgar noises.

Bakugou‘s head slams against the headrest as you moan against his length, the car picking up in speed as well. The vibrations of your mouth resonating through him and you whimper as he fights his reaction. But the hand that lay on your back moved to twist your hair into a faux ponytail. This simple action makes your legs rub together for friction.

His hips snap up against your mouth as fire shoots down your throat. His hips are merciless as they drill into your mouth, his hands pulling at your hair as tears prick at your eyes. You do everything to not pull away. Your jaw is completely relaxed and your fingers grip his thigh as your nose hits his trimmed pubes. His actions are too rough so your throat hums as you try to calm down.

Bakugou pushes you further against his length, keeping your lips flushed against his skin as his hand swerves the car. Your body tumbles as you choke against his length, and he lets you go. You pull away gasping for air as your lips are covered in a mixture of his pre-cum and your saliva. Staring at his rigid features, you licked your lips as you wheeze. Your eyes turn to your friends who are still asleep.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Bakugou spat between gritted teeth. His eyes blazing feebly as he glares down at your bruised lips. Bakugou’s rough grip in your hair was preventing you from moving your lips too far away from his still hard cock. So, wanting to give him what he desires, your lips surround his dick. Your hand moving to roughly jerk his length as your other hand grip his balls.

This time Bakugou moaned lowly. "Baby girl, fucking shit," he moans as he rocks his hips.

His hips bucking up towards your touch as his foot slams even harder against the gas pedal. The car engine revving from the sharp increase in speed. You smirked up at him as you continued your movements. You can see him glancing down at you much more frequently. His eyes flickering from you, the road, and the passengers while your tongue swirls against his leaking tip.

"Get your fucking mouth on my cock," he wheezes as he tugs your hair. But you don't move as your tongue slides against his slit.

Bakugou grunts loudly in response as his hand in your hair buries into your scalp. He shoves your face down to his length, forcing you into his rhythm. He was pushing your head down so you were gagging on his length as it hit the back of your throat, the sounds only goading Bakugou further. So with one final moan from you, one final surge of his hips into your mouth, and slam of his forehead against the wheel, Bakugou came in your mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

You pull away grinning as you swallow his salty load, your mouth opening to show that you swallowed him all.

“You look much more awake love,” you tease as Bakugou's eyes are wide open now. His body is tense and rigid as he stares ahead.

“Fucking buckle up,” Bakugou hisses as he shoves you into your seat.

You barely sit correctly as Bakugou pulls into a gas station. Your eyes are wide as Bakugou throws open the car door after slipping his pants back up. The door slamming behind him was enough to wake up everyone.

“Wah—?” You heard someone heave in a sleepy voice. Before you could explain your door swung open and Bakugou pulled you out.

“Are we there yet?” Kirishima’s voice asks clearly from the back.

“No! Stop asking fucking questions and just wait there!” Bakugou growls as he closes the door behind you.

Your legs barely keep up with Bakugou’s long strides as you’re suddenly in the bathroom. the door locking behind you as his mouth overwhelms you.

“You’re going to make yourself come in two minutes, or you don’t get to come for a fucking week. Do you understand?” Bakugou hisses against your lips as his fingers curl onto your clit.

“Yes, my love.”

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florenstry · 4 years

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Wild Birds Fly (Bastion)

Word Count: 4.5k+ Trigger Warnings: Alcohol, (minor) canon-typical violence Crossposted on: (n/a)

Just a little background fic about my Bastion OC Lanius, with some world building about the Wilds because that area and its fauna has always interested me when I played the game! I haven’t written something this long in a while, but I enjoyed it.

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A wild bird’s gotta have a few nests to keep. For Lanius, Caelondia was a first, but after the Calamity he knew everything that had been built was gone. The Tazal Terminals could count as a second, but could you really call it a home if you’ve never been to the place?

Maybe in spirit it could be considered. The Wilds was where he was now, and as much as it was the “home” it just seemed to tolerate his presence, treating him just like any other fauna living off of it. So what was home for a lost bird? Well, a long day of work always had him coming back to an old distillery just between Caelondia and the Wilds; it was abandoned enough for him to call it his own, but intact enough for him to use. It was better than being out in the open under a tent that could be attacked at any given moment.

Lanius sat with a bottle of Werewhiskey in his hand. It was close to midnight, and a yawn escaped him. Thistle, his Fledgling with a purple crest, flew into the room where he sat tending to a small fire. In her beak was part of a Lunkhead’s stony eggshell, and she dropped it beside him as if to give a “gift”. Thistle was one to collect shiny objects and stones, which ended up being kept for her to play with when she was bored.

“Thanks,” he chuckled, petting her head as she relaxed by his side. They heard a Pecker’s call from afar.

Another Fledging arrived—it’s Thorn, Thistle’s brother but with an orange crest. He had a dead Stinkeye in his talons, and he dropped it in front of them. The Stinkeye writhed for a moment, before the Pecker pierced through it with its beak for final measure. Lanius felt somewhat sorry for the green eye; Thistle liked to hunt for food and always seemed to be hungry, and that little guy just so happened to be caught by the bird.

Thistle waddled over to her brother for the both of them to eat. Lanius watched as the birds pecked away at their food for the night. He was planning to eat some fruit before bed, but decided that he’s lost his appetite at the sight of his birds going at their own dinner. He took a long swig from the bottle, sighing as he finished the remainder of it. The alcohol kicked in slowly, and his eyes wandered lazily to the two other bottles he had finished before Werewhiskey. He’ll make some more in the morning with what he collected from the day’s hunt.

As his mind wandered, memories of the Calamity came back to him. Lanius would never forget the day that the Old World crumbled around him. One moment Lanius was pouring himself a shot of cider for a long day ahead, and the next he’s sprinting out of the Misty Cenote Distillery for his parents. It wasn’t like anything he had seen in the Wilds, and he’s seen a lot of things given the dangers living in a place where you are the hunter… or the hunted. The vivid pictures of the world falling shifted to his parents, both of them smiling down at him. He smiled to himself, succumbing to the effect of his drunken stupor. The sounds of the Wilds faded around him, and the last thing Lanius saw was his Fledglings hopping over to his side to watch over as he drifted to sleep.

<<<

“Hey, Lan.”

The 13-year-old boy looked up just as he was about to stab a fish out of the water. He watched as his father Hirun, a Caelondian man in his late 40s, walked over to him with something in his hands. Lanius rushed over to him as Hirun knelt down, showing a small purple Pincushion. It was still growing, about a few weeks old based on the grey spikes that barely grew from within.

“You can tame a Pincushion, y’know?” Hirun said. Lanius looked up at him in confusion.

“Th’ only taming I can do is by killin’ it, Pa,” Lanius huffed, remembering the time that he fell into a grey Pincushion and had to have his mother take the small pins out of him for hours.

Hirun laughed, “You can tame anything from th’ Wilds if you get it to trust you.”

His father instructed him to put his palms out. Lanius held his breath as the Pincushion was put into his palm. He fully expected to be pricked, but instead was disoriented by the soft, pillow-like texture of the plant. Hirun laughed at his expression, watching as his son’s confused face turned to one of excitement as the boy poked at the baby Pincushion.

“Pincushions are just plant pillows without their spikes,” Hirun explained.

“Even th’ growing spikes are duller than a used-up pike.”

Lanius tested it, and it was true; the greyish spikes were dull, almost bendable, but decided against hurting the growing plant. Pulling one spike from a Pincushion caused it to bleed, as its internal makeup only allowed for the spikes to be released by their own pressure. Plus, a Pincushion’s blood was toxic, and Lanius didn’t want to deal with that at the moment.

“I knew a man who got Pincushions to shoot by command,” Hirun said, motioning for his son to follow him back to the campsite. Lanius placed the baby Pincushion on one hand while he carried his pike in the other, trailing behind Hirun as they walked back to their camp.

“How’d he do it? Lanius asked, still poking at the Pincushion. The spikes protruded slightly whenever it was poked, but not enough to be shot out.

“He grew his own,” Hirun laughed fondly.

“Th’ man was crazy, but no one could get past his barrier once all those little spikes had grown. It was as if Hense smiled down on that man to have th’ Pincushions under his command.”

“Do you think I can tame one?”

Hirun didn’t turn back, but Lanius could hear the smile in his father’s voice.

“You got a big heart, and an even bigger bite, son,” he said.

“I know you can tame th’ Wilds better than your mother and I have.”

Lanius beamed, looking back to the baby Pincushion on his hand as they continued walking back.

They had set up camp in a clearing a few meters away from a lake. As they got closer, the faint sound of strumming filled the air. Lanius’s mother Lusci, an Ura woman also in her late-30s, was playing her lute with her eyes fixed on the instrument. The fire that she sat by had a small metal cauldron hanging above it and a spicy fragrance wafed from it. Hirun walked over to the cauldron to give it a quick stir, a small sip, and a few spices from his pack. Lanius skipped over to his mother who gave him a smile but still continued to play a slow and graceful tune.

“A new friend, hm?” she asked. Lanius presented it to her, and with a giggle Lusci poked at it gently before telling him to put it down.

“If you press right in the middle, all the spikes will come out, but won’t fire. Think of it like a button for a trap.”

The boy did as she said. After putting the plant on the mat they sat on, he pressed the top of the Pincushion. The rounded thorns of the Pincushions protruded out like a trap. Lanius clapped in delight, eyes with excitement as the Pincushion’s spikes retracted after sensing no danger.

Hirun sat beside Lusci, giving her a quick peck on the lips. Lanius stuck his tongue out at them in playful disgust at their display of affection but gave into a family hug. When the son pulled himself away, he got a good look at both of his parents. Being frontliners of the war made them look older than they were, but both were still young and curious at heart. Lanius had the Caelondian complexion, but had his father’s platinum hair with streaks of black from his mother. This look didn’t help with fitting in. All the other children his age would spread rumors about him and his family, all of which fell into deaf ears because of his parents’ positions in the army. He didn’t see the need to fit in with the rest though—was more than happy with his family who, even as a Brusher and a Trapper, always made time to spend together.

“Lanius?”

He snapped out of his thoughts with a blink, and Lanius realized he was crying.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Lusci said worriedly. The boy wiped his tears, laughing weakly as he tackled his mother into a hug. His father patted Lanius’s back comfortingly.

“I’m sorry, Ma...” he choked out.

“…I’m just really happy.”

“And we’re happy too,” Hirun said, ruffling his hair. Lanius whined about his hair, to which his mother swatted her husband’s hand away to “protect” her son from his grubby hands.

They laughed in the end, the night filling with their voices as they passed their time with a hearty soup and cheerful music. Hirun played his guitar, Lusci played her flute, and Lanius played his panpipe; the mix of strings and winds collectively merged into the calls and sounds of the Wilds around them.

It was midnight by the time Lanius was tucked into bed by his mother as Hirun was outside putting out the fire. Lusci kissed her son’s forehead with a goodnight, but before she could leave he was called back.

“Ma… could ya tell me more about th’ Gods?”

Lusci paused for a moment before shaking her head with a smile. She sat cross legged beside her son, the only lightsource in the tent being an oil lamp on the corner of the tent.

“I’ll tell you about Olak, the God of Chance and Whim,” she started, resting her chin on her palm as Lanius listened.

“He was called ‘The Carefree Son’, kinda like you, don’cha think?”

“Maybe,” Lanius yawned.

“When he saw an opportunity, he took it without a second thought. If you were in a situation that needed a good outcome, he was the one to turn to. Only the ones with fearless, wild hearts were blessed with the luck of the young god. Wherever the wind blew, Olak followed with it.”

“Is that why th’ pinwheel is his symbol?”

“That’s what my father told me, but a couple of other folks may tell you otherwise.”

Lanius rubbed his eyes, feeling the drowsiness kick in, “I wanna follow th’ wind wherever it goes, Ma.”

By this time, Hirun quietly entered the tent. Before he could speak Lusci held a finger to her lips before pointing a thumb to their sleepy son. He smiled before going over to the side of the tent to fix their bedrolls.

“You wanna follow the wind?” Lanius’s mother said amusedly.

“How’re you gonna do that, son?”

“Dunno. I’ll just fly and let th’ wind take to wherever it thinks is best.”

“And what if it ain’t pretty?”

“Just ‘cause it ain’t pretty doesn’t mean we can’t get somethin’ outta it.”

There’s another big yawn, and Lanius snuggled into his bedroll.

“I’ll… I’ll make th’ most outta it. ”

Lusci watched as his son’s eyes closed, and she smiled to herself as he fell asleep.

“That’s my boy,” she giggled, getting up and walking to her bedroll to rest for the night as well.

>>>

The morning came harsher than expected. Lanius was awoken with the loud screeches of Peckers, and his instincts got him reaching for his weapons before he realized both Thorn and Thistle were gone from his side. The sun was barely peeking out of the horizon as he kicked himself off the floor and out of the distillery. From there, he saw his two Fledglings fighting off a figure with a… Cael Hammer?

Lanius doesn’t have time to take it in as Thorn was hit with the brunt force of the hammer. Panic coursed through his veins as he ran over to the bird in a dash. The attacker paused, not expecting another human in the Wilds as he watched Lanius crouch down and cradle the Fledgling protectively, carbine out and loaded.

He had the gun pointed with only a few feet of distance between the boy and the barrel. Lanius gave a shrill whistle, to which Thistle followed by whizzing over to sit on the man’s shoulder. The purple-crowned Fledgling cawed menacingly at the boy. With a standstill, Lanius had time to get a good look at the attacker.

It didn’t take a genius to see that the boy was a Caelondian. With white hair and tanned skin, the built figure, numerous scars, and worn-down armor was enough to tell Lanius that the kid could put up a serious fight. He had a firm grip on his hammer, and it looked like he wasn’t going to put it down anytime soon.

“I’ll drop my gun if ya put down th’ hammer,” Lanius suggested, lowering his carbine. There was hesitation, but the boy’s hammer was lowered from a readied attack. Lanius cussed in Ura, looking down at Thorn who was chirping weakly at the man.

“You pack quite a hit with that thing, huh,” Lanius muttered, carrying Thorn in his arms as Thistle chirped worriedly. The boy didn’t reply; he didn’t look like the talking type. He also looked worse for wear, with his clothes and bandages cut in several places as caused by his Fledglings. With a sigh, he gestured to the distillery.

“Come in. I’ll treat you to some tonics to get you patched up.”

Lanius didn’t wait for the stranger to answer. He headed straight for the bar and behind it, opening some of the shelves to reveal supplies and drinks. Thistle landed on the bar table as the stranger took a seat, and began to peck at the boy in anger for attacking her brother. Lanius silenced her with a quick whistle, and the Fledgling deflated in defeat.

“Here,” he said, passing over a shot of Bastion Bourbon and a full Health Tonic.

“I made ‘em myself,” he explained, putting Thorn down on the table. Thistle immediately hopped over to her brother, pressing her head against him in worry.

“They got more of a kick than what most distilleries have, and I assume you can taste th’ difference. You look like you take tonics on a daily basis.”

When Lanius collected a few medicines for his bird, he turned back to the stranger to see him examining the bottles with uncertainty. He couldn’t blame him honestly, maybe the boy thought he would get poisoned from them.

“C’mon now, I don’t spike my drinks with anythin’,” Lanius pouted, walking over to where he laid Thorn to work on the bird’s wounds. The stranger was still cautious, and Lanius chuckled to himself before pouring a shot of bourbon from the same bottle.

“Cheers.”

A moment passed, but the boy picked up his shot and clinked it against the man’s glass. They both downed it quickly. He isn’t one for drinks so early in the morning, but you couldn’t go wrong with Bastion Bourbon. The distiller watched as the boy popped open the tonic and drank half of it in one go. Lanius could figure out a person by the way they drank, and this one was clearly a fighter with nothing to lose.

“Th’ name’s Lanius,” he started as he began checking over Thorn’s wounds. Other than some missing feathers, nothing was broken.

“Yours?”

The stranger told him to call him Kid. It probably wasn’t his real name, but it would have to do.

“What brings you this side of the Wilds?”

He shrugged and gestured to Lanius as a way to deflect the question.

“I live here,” he stated as a matter-of-fact. Lanius paused as Thorn started to thrash in pain at the salve on an open wound. He heard a quiet sorry coming from the Kid, to which he waved his free hand to dismiss him.

“I don’t blame ya for attacking them, I would’ve done the same if they were wild Peckers,” Lanius said.

Once the salve was applied and wrapped over, Thorn pushed himself out of his prone position before jumping down to the floor. He chirped for his sister, and Thistle hopped down in suit as the both of them began to play with one another. Lanius glanced over to the Kid. He had an expression of curiosity.

“Purple one’s Thistle, the orange one is Thorn,” Lanius said, resting his chin on his palm as they watched the birds play.

“I rescued them just before an Anklegator could get to the abandoned nest. The mother left them there to die after seeing a big threat.”

The Kid grunted in affirmation.

Lanius took it as a sign of warming up.

“Sorry to be a bit forward with you, but are there other survivors?”

The Kid turned to him and nodded. Lanius thought he would be ecstatic about more people who were alive, but why did he just feel pain?

“How many people reached the Bastion?”

Four fingers. Lanius assumed the Kid was a part of that four.

“Are two of those survivors... a couple? About 50 years old by now, a Cael and an Ura?”

The answer was a no, and Lanius slouched unto the table. He knew it was too good to be true if his parents had reached the Bastion. On the day of the Calamity, they were gone without a trace. If they had to fight something or someone they wouldn’t go down without bloodshed, and if they turned into stone then he would’ve found their statues (or ashes) by now. Lanius held his hair in frustration at the thought, before something was pressed against his arm.

Lanius looked up to see the Kid pushing a City Crest to him. His eyes widened, and memories of his time in Caelondia flooded back to him. He picked up the cog carefully, examining it. It was a genuine Caelondian City Crest, and despite being worn down the Kid definitely held it in high regard.

“What’d you do to get this?” Lanius asked.

The Kid took a swig of the Health Tonic before answering it was earned from two shifts on the Rippling Walls.

Immediately, Lanius slammed his free hand on the bar (he was conscious enough to not slam on the crest). The impact wasn’t enough to topple anything, but it was enough to shock the Kid. Thistle and Thorn squawked in surprise, their feathers ruffled by the way their keeper raised his voice.

“So you’re th’ one who took two terms!” Lanius gasped. The Kid simply blinked at him.

“By Pyth—that’s insane! Why?”

The Kid’s eyes looked down to his glass. He doesn’t say anything, but it was clear it was a sore subject.

“I... I apologize,” he apologized quietly, feeling a familiar sting in his chest at the thought of it.

The Kid shrugged, not to brush it off completely but to assure Lanius.

He picked up his empty shot glass and gestured it towards the distiller. He commended Lanius’s craftsmanship in his spirits.

Lanius chuckled, “I was trained by th’ best.”

Wherever the “best” was anyway. Lanius didn’t know where Griffin, the old man who ran the distillery he worked in, ended up in. If he ended up in ashes, they were probably blown unto the oblivion caused by the Calamity. If he was alive, then chances were slim for a man of his age and physicality to reach the Bastion. Griffin would’ve probably been in his 60s if he was still kicking.

He stood up straight before going over to the shelves. The distiller opened a cabinet to reveal a selection of several spirits, and even some that the Kid didn’t recognize.

“Anything that catches your fancy?” he asked.

The Kid asked for the best. Lanius caught a small crack of a smile, and in his mind he wondered if they both of them would’ve gotten along back in the days before the Calamity. They seemed more similar then one would think.

“I make a great Stabsinthe. Only with th’ meanest Stabweeds around.”

He took a half-full bottle from the shelf and placed it on the table. Unlike the usual bottles that were given in most distilleries, the neck of the lid was colored pink that faded into green and then black. Lanius popped the bottle open and poured its contents into both of their glasses, showing a transparent lime liquid with a strong floral and citrus scent.

“Im’ma let you in on a secret,” Lanius said as he finished pouring. The Kid tilted his head at him.

“Most distillers just take th’ thorns, which is understandable, that's how everyone makes ‘em… but what they don’t know is that th’ rest of th’ plant brings it all together.”

Lanius took his glass and swirled it in his hand. The Kid followed.

“If you look real close, the drink’s got some pink sparkle within all that green. That’s thanks to Stabweed flowers--in the base of the lil’ thing contains some nectar, which most distilleries end up selling to flower shops and the like. Have at it, but be careful,”

Their glasses clinked.

“It’s sharp.”

They downed their drinks. Lanius finished with a content sigh, feeling the slight burn of alcohol and citrus fade into a sweet drink. He watched as the Kid took a moment to settle, and the only response he got from the silent stranger was a strong huff. Lanius laughed as he let the Kid spit some small thorns off to the side. The man does the same, turning away as he spat the thorns to the floor.

“Probably hadn’t had a drink that good before, huh?” Lanius chuckled.

Before the Kid could answer, he’s cut off by Thorn and Thistle who land on his shoulders. Both birds were curious about a newcomer who kept their keeper in a good mood. The Kid shuffled through a side pouch on his bet before taking out a couple of seeds. Both Fledglings immediately puffed their feathers as they jumped on the table, excitedly waiting for a snack. Lanius watched quietly as the stranger and his birds played around.

The Kid was younger than him definitely, possibly by a decade. His white hair probably didn’t do him any favors, just as Lanius’s blonde and black hair did. His eyes are strong and determined, but hold deep scars and sadness from the Calamity. Whatever made him take two shifts on the Rippling Walls, travel as far into the Wilds as he is now, and open up to a stranger like Lanius was beyond him. The Kid’s probably seen a lot more than Lanius, and that was saying a lot. At least his birds liked him; the instincts of an animal were better than a human, and if they didn’t see him as a threat anymore then that was a good sign.

Once the birds were satisfied, they wandered off to play again. Lanius went to pour another shot of Stabinsthe for the both of them, but stopped short of the Kid’s glass when he placed his hand over it. The distiller looked at him puzzled.

The Kid shook his head and asked if Lanius wanted to return to the Bastion with him.

“I never considered the Bastion to be true,” Lanius answered, capping the bottle.

“I assumed that it fell along with th’ rest of Caelondia.”

The Kid thought the same thing, but now it was airborne, with three other survivors with space to spare for more. Lanius thought the airborne part was a joke, but the Kid didn’t look like the type to joke around on matters such as this. He asked once more if Lanius wanted to join them.

“Not sure ‘bout that, Kid,” Lanius said honestly.

“I’ve been livin’ off the Wilds ever since the start of the Calamity. Call me crazy, but it’s a home.”

Lanius was questioned on whether or not he wanted to explore more than just the Wilds. The man considered it for a moment.

“I’ve always wanted to fly, I guess... past th’ winds of the Skyway.”

The Kid offered the chance at flight then. He didn’t need to stay if he didn’t want to, but his chances at surviving at the rate of the Calamity was slimmer if he stayed on falling ground. Lanius commended the Kid for being rather convincing, and the reply was a shrug.

Lanius sighed, walking over to the side of the bar to pick up some things.

“Thorn. Thistle.”

Both birds perked up at the call. They flew over the counter on either side of the Kid and waited patiently as Lanius placed two small satchels. The bags seemed to be modified so as to not deter their flight.

“We’re moving out again.”

They chirped affirmatively.

“But not to the Wilds.”

Thorn was silent, and Thistle chirped in protest. They immediately turned to the Kid, who raised both his hands in defense. Lanius chuckled to himself, lugging a pack over his shoulder with his pike and carbine with him. The Kid asked what he would do with all of his drinks, and Lanius glanced to the shelf.

“Might as well leave these here for any passin’ soul,” he said, checking inventory. There were about one of each drink, and a couple of tonics. It wasn’t a problem; Lanius always left the extra he made. Maybe the Kid had put them to good use when he traveled the Wilds.

“You better have a Distillery back at th’ Bastion, or I’m leavin’.”

The Kid nodded.

From there, they headed out. Lanius directed the Kid to the safest and fastest path to a Skyway, in which he thanked him for. As a Trigger he stayed behind the Kid with his hammer, with one bird flying just to their left and right. It was somewhat nostalgic, to go through the Wilds with someone—it reminded him of his days before the Calamity. Lanius looked back at the distillery he was leaving behind; the one home he had after everything went down, and he was now moving off to somewhere permanent.

Just as they reached the Skyway, the Kid pointed up. There, Lanius gaped at the looming shape of an airborne Bastion. From atop, he could see three figures waving down at them. They were too far to be recognizable, but their friendly gesture was enough to bring a smile.

Lanius watched as the Kid took off, carried off by the winds and up to the Bastion. His fledglings followed after without question. Lanius stood just a step away. The breeze blew over him, its whispers speaking to him. One side of it telling him to turn back to the Wilds, and the other beckoning a new wind.

The wild bird has had a few old nests in the past, but he figured it was about time to settle for something new. Lanius imagined that the God of Chance and Whim was smiling down at him at this very moment, and who was he to defy Olak’s blessing in the form of a chance?

He was always one to follow the winds, and with a smile he did.

#bastion (game)#supergiant games #the kid #bastion oc #writing #i wasn't gonna post this at first #but then i went: fuck it #cuz i already posted art of lanius anyway #i honestly wanna write ALL ABOUT THE WILDS #i have so many headcanons for everything in it #i also didn't expect the word count to reach 4k..... writing this was kinda fast ngl #oc: inks on tealeaf #writing: inks on tealeaf

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 5 years

Text

Clexa Pride Week: Sunday - Free Day

Canon divergent au one-shot

Words: 1848

Synopsis: Lexa finds more out about the skaikru criminal justice system.

Or: solitary confinement aint good for the brain and Clarke didn’t really think she could hide it forever did she?

“What will happen to the man?” Clarke asked, her first question as soon as the door closed. The Chancellor, Abby, several other members of the council, and Indra looked around at one another. Lexa didn’t dare take her hand as much as she longed to and settled for watching her.

“Well,” Kane glanced at Lexa, “It’s our right to decide his punishment. He attacked one of our council members.” Lexa nodded and waited for him to continue, hoping he would hurry so she and Clarke could continue on with their visit. The attack had rattled Clarke, seeing her mother so close to death, she looked scared, like she wanted to be held by Lexa as much as Lexa wanted to hold her. Lexa closed her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to focus on Kane. “Normally we would,” He looked at the council, “float him. But um - with the new policies we’d have to deliberate.”

“Perhaps you could put him to work, farming or hauling heavy objects,” Indra scraped the underside of her nails. “There are plenty of smiths in trikru who could use the extra hand.”

“We won’t send him back to trikru,” A council member argued. “He'll get treated more like a hero than a criminal.”

Indra met his eyes and pulled back her lips in a sneer, “And who’s fault is that?”

“Indra,” Lexa warned as the council member opened his fat mouth to argue again. Indra crossed her arms but winced still tender from her bullet wound and Abby led her to a seat, everyone else following suit.

“We have work camps here,” Kane pointed out, “we could have him working for a couple years and then banish him?”

“We should give him a public lashing too,” The head of the guard suggested, “People need to see the repercussions.”

“He’ll only want revenge,” Clarke spoke up, “That’s the whole point of blood must not have blood.”

“We can’t just banish him, it’s the same thing as letting him go,” the council member from before argued, “I say fifty lashes, he’ll be too weak to fight back.”

“He’s a teenager, it might kill him,” Abby said and gave the council member a glare but he only shrugged. Lexa’s eyes looked over him and saw the marks of an Azgeda prisoner. Why they elected him was beyond her. Clearly they hadn’t learned from Pike as much as she’d hoped.

“If we put him in a work camp he might get violent with the other workers, he hates arkers more than anyone remember,” The head of the guard put in. “I say solitary. A month or so in there and he and everyone else will leave us the hell alone.” Lexa straightened her back, turning sharply to Indra with widened eyes who looked just as surprised. Lexa waited for Abby, Kane, even Clarke to speak up but eye contact was made around the room.

“A month then?” Kane asked and there were collective nods. Clarke had slumped somewhat but she hadn’t argued and Lexa stared at her.

“No,” Her voice sounded louder than she meant it to and she tore her eyes away from her love and looked at the room staring at her. “No I won’t allow it.”

“Excuse me?” The azgeda prisoner one said, she turned her piercing stare on him.

“Solitary is barbaric, we don’t even use it in torture.”

The man opened his mouth to argue before Kane cut in, “With all due respect Commander, we have the right to decide. You have to respect our ways just we have to respect yours.”

Lexa stood, “The boy is seventeen, putting him in solitary for any amount of time could permanently injure him.”

The azgeda prisoner scoffed, “We’re all permanently injured. He did a crime, he pays the time.”

“I won’t allow it, he’ll work in a camp in floukru,” Lexa nodded and Indra stood, hand on her sword.

Kane stood too, “Commander -“

“He may have attacked skaikru but he is trikru, I am well within my rights,” Lexa snarled and whipped around Kane watching her as she left. She cast a glance at Clarke who still had her head down. Perhaps she was ashamed for her cowardice. Lexa shook her head, for the first time disappointed with the girl she had given her heart to so long ago.

***

Clarke came to bed that night much later than usual, the stars high in the sky before she wandered in. “You’re still up,” Clarke said. Lexa set her book to the side. “I was gonna um - sleep at my mom’s but I couldn’t -“

‘Sleep without you’ went unsaid and despite Lexa’s anger she could help but let her lips quirk up, “I understand. Me as well.”

Clarke took a couple more steps in and she looked so unsure and nervous Lexa couldn’t stand it and she held up the blanket for Clarke to crawl into bed next to her. “You shouldn’t be so harsh. They’re still learning, they’ll figure it out. All we knew was survival for so long I just - I don’t want you to think badly of them.”

Lexa didn’t answer as Clarke set herself up beside her, one hand playing with a loose string on Lexa’s sleep shirt, her head resting on Lexa’s arm.

“I think it’s too late for that ai niron,” Clarke let out a soft breath of air, maybe a chuckle, maybe a muffled sob, Lexa couldn’t be sure. “Solitary we - we outlawed it years ago perhaps. The first commander worked against it - even Nia never put her prisoners through that.”

“It’s not - well it’s not that bad.”

Lexa stiffened, she tried to keep her voice calm, “I have seen men with their eyes gouged out, women pulling out their own tongues, from the effects of isolation.”

“I - yes but you - you get used to it. It’s not like you can’t - I mean it’s not so bad,” Clarke lay as a solid rock on top of her, stiff, cold, and avoiding as Lexa’s heart began to race.

“Clarke,” She tried to keep her voice from breaking.

“I told you I was a criminal,” Clarke muttered and Lexa tightened her hold, fire burning in her stomach, anger roaring its head. Not at Clarke, never at Clarke, but perhaps at the people who so clearly hadn’t learned a thing since falling to the ground.

“For a non-violent crime,” Lexa said. “I assumed it was stealing, or - or - perhaps taking the blame or -“

“Treason,” Clarke said and Lexa closed her eyes, the single word hitting her with more force than the bullet had so many weeks ago. But of course, Clarke would never settle for the banality of anything less than a righteous cause against authority.

She barely managed to choke out, “How long?” Her breath stuttered and uneven.

“Lexa,” Clarke let out a sigh and pulled away, hands fidgeting in her lap. Lexa tried not to see it as a symptom, tried not to analyze every action Clarke’s made with a new lense but the undertaking wasn’t easy. “They had to - to - to stop the word from getting out.”

“How long Clarke?” Her voice hardened, she sat up and watched Clarke, sitting in the bed too, staring out and away to nothing. “Please,” she placed a hand on Clarke’s arm and Clarke flinched, Lexa pulled away trying to gauge her reaction again but Clarke was unreadable. Her face blank. “Ai niron, beja…” My love, please...

“A little under a year,” Clarke choked out, not much above a whisper, her eyes squeezed shut.

“A year,” Lexa swallowed. “A year.”

“A year,” Clarke agreed. She looked back at Lexa, “You said permanently injured and -“

“Clarke,” Lexa took her hand, meeting her eyes, “You have never been anything less than perfect to me. I just wish - I wish you had told me sooner. I -” She squeezed Clarke’s hands as Clarke looked away, “I don’t like feeling helpless.”

“I didn’t want you to think less of me,” Clarke closed her eyes and Lexa leaned closer, she had never seen this vulnerable side of Clarke before, this quiet, subdued, broken part of her. She always seemed so strong, so terrifyingly unshakeable, but now the fear, the insecurity, shone through. Lexa didn’t fear much, but she feared this new look in Clarke’s eyes. This empty look.

“I could never,” She squeezed Clarke’s hands and put every bit of emotion into her words, “You must know I could never, not for a moment - Clarke,” her voice broke over the name as she saw the tears falling down Clarke’s cheeks.

She moved to sit beside her and Clarke leaned her head on her shoulder, her own shoulders shaking from the force of restrained sobs. Lexa searched her mind for something she could do, something she could say. She wished she were better at this, all she managed was a gentle kiss to the head on her shoulder and allowing Clarke the space, the strenth to hold her as she cried.

As it got closer to morning Lexa convinced Clarke to sleep and left the tent, instructing five gona to guard it. She knew it wasn’t rational but she couldn’t help it - the thought of Clarke taken by anyone, for any purpose - filled her with more fear than it had ever before. The human body could only endure so much.

Indra found her almost immediately. “Okteivia kom skaikru has informed me it was not a rare practice. That she herself was put in solitary for great portions of time. Heda -”

“We will not attack,” Lexa cut off, despite how desperate she felt. “But inform skaikru how uneven the ground they now walk on is.” Indra bowed her head and Lexa closed her eyes, regretting her next actions with all her heart already. “Speak to Octavia again. I wish to know what else skaikru has kept from us.”

She had long since figured out how savage the proclaimed civilized clan from the sky was. Clarke had told her about the council sending the hundred, practically children in their culture, to die. Clarke had told her about her own mother being forced to sacrifice her father, about the three hundred twenty culled and the famine before she was born. She even told Lexa what floating was, and how it crept into their daily vocabulary. She told her these things in bits and pieces when they came up, or when Lexa noticed something off. But this, this she had made a conscious effort to hide. It disgusted her, it terrified her, and heda never feared for anything except the future.

Indra headed off and Lexa rolled her shoulders, the burden sitting heavier today than usual. A door to the Ark opened revealing Abby’s desperate eyes and hollow face, wet with tears. They met eyes and Lexa shook her head in disgust, walking towards the mess hall. She would serve Clarke breakfast in bed today, perhaps every day after this. Clarke may not have been cherished on the Ark, but she would be cherished here. Lexa would make sure of that.

***

#clexa pride week #gus writes #clexa #princess commander #the 100 #the shit show #clexa fanfic #fanfic #Clarke griffin #lexa #commander lexa #lexa woods #wlw #lgbt #lesbian #bisexual

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snowfall-fanfictions · 4 years

Text

Beware the Frozen Heart Ch. 14- The Reunion

Previous Chapter

Ao3 Link

FFN link

Eryn and Torvond have a little catching up session

Minor rape tw for this one folks, proceed with caution.

Eryn had to admit, the cell he was thrown into wasn’t the worst he’d been in. It wasn’t the largest nor was it the most well lit, but he had been locked away in literal caves before. They were even kind enough to give him a bed, unlike many other dungeons he’d been in. The cell was underneath the local barracks in the heart of town, a usual setup for small villages so that it’s harder for criminals to escape. Eryn laid back on the bed cot in the corner of the cell, placing his hands behind his head. Lineaus had to do… something or other, Eryn was too busy cursing out the ice harvester in his head to pay attention. When could that oaf have taken the dagger? He was better than that! Eryn bounced his foot angrily as he imagined burying his knife into the ice man’s throat for making him look like a dumbass. His mind then shifted to how Anna would react, seeing her fiance dead in a pool of his own blood. I’d be gone before anything could be done about it, so why not just beat the shit out of him and split? He thought, concentrating on the wooden floor above him. God, Eryn. When did you go soft… oh, right….

As he schemed about the future, he heard loud footsteps thudding down the staircase. Turning his head, he saw Lineaus arriving at the foot of the stairs, glaring at him with hands clasped behind his back. Eryn took special note of the various medals and ribbons that adorned the man’s jacket as they glistened in torchlight.

“As if I didn’t have enough problems already, you just had to show up…” Lineaus growled.

“Ah, Lineaus,” Eryn chuckled, “Got yourself a promotion, I see?”

“Shove it, Eryn! you have some gall to show up in Arendelle again. Especially after what you did.”

“Oh? You mean brought justice to a family where you and this godawful country refused to? Besides, I needed to come back. I’ve got important business here...”

“And what, pray tell, would that ‘important business’ be?”

Eryn let out a soft chuckle, “Well, I’ve found a glass slipper from the royal ball and I’ve been looking for the maiden who lost it…”

“Do I look like I have time for this foolishness, Eryn?” Eryn swung his feet to the side of the bed, “Ah, there’s the old ‘no nonsense’ Lenny I remember! It’s just like the old military days all over again!” “Don’t. Call. Me. That. You lost your right to call me that when you betrayed Arendelle.”

“Why do you care so much about this shithole, anyway? Not like this place did anything for you.”

“A soldier doesn’t expect anything in return for service to his country. Not that you’d understand,” Lineaus approached the cell bars. Eryn could see veins protruding from Lineaus’s neck.

“Oh, puh-lease, Lenny, we both know why you signed up in the first place.”

“Don’t you dare, Eryn…”

“You joined up to try and get close to the crown princess, to woo her with your devotion to this backwards country.”

Lineaus’s face turned bright red, “L-like you had a more noble reason to enlist!”

“It was like most wide eyed new recruits, I wanted to make a name for myself in this world; become famous, earn some glory, the usual things boys join up for.”

“Eryn, you and I both know there’s more to it than that.”

The assassin let out a gruff sigh, “Always perceptive, aren’t you, Lenny? Arendelle only cares about the high and mighty of society. Look at how they put Urlaf on a pedestal while ignoring the people he ruined.”

“Ugh, this again? Urlaf was a good ma-”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE DEFEND THAT RAPIST, YOU IGNORANT MORON!” Eryn jumped from the bed and marched over to the bars of the cell, meeting Lineaus’s face with his own.

“Oh, I see what’s going on here…”

“Do you now?” “You were jealous of Urlaf, so you made up an excuse to kill him-”

Eryn struggled not to strangle Lineaus through the bars. “Her name was Malia. She was only sixteen when Urlaf violated her. Her father and mother were threatened with charges of treason if they tried anything. I get that you idolized the bastard, but do you understand that doesn’t mean ‘suck his cock every waking second?’”

“Why would Urlaf try and cover up something like that? Especially when King Agnarr had two daughters of his own, surely he’d interve-” “You say that as if Agnarr would’ve given a damn,” Eryn began pacing the small room, “He locked the two of them up in the castle, didn’t he? Even then, the bastard was too busy throwing men to the north trying to get through some fog to care about anyone else, especially his own people.”

“This is about your father, isn’t it?”

“Leave him out of this!”

“I remember seeing that report. An entire platoon, lost in an avalanche due north of here. Eryn, I-”

“Don’t even act like you understand. When he died, no one came to inform us, my mother and I had to find that out from an ice harvester who was passing through. But, no, I understand completely. I mean, two months later, when my mother was taken by illness, Arendelle didn’t do anything to help, either. Why try and help an eight year old with nowhere to go to when there’s a group of FUCKING TREE PEOPLE to save?!” Eryn kicked the stone wall with all his might, letting out a small whimper as he limped back to where Lineaus was standing.

“You can’t expect a government to oversee all of its subjects. I’m sorry that happened to you but-”

“This isn’t about me. What about Malia? A sixteen year old girl who was violated by the highest ranking general in Arendelle, and she never saw justice. You had a sister, Lineaus, surely you would understand.”

Lineaus paused for a moment, almost as if he was contemplating Eryn’s words. “How do you know Urlaf did any of this? This is a serious thing to accuse him of…”

“I saw it. The night I left, I was on night patrol when I saw him drag her to her tent. I saw the blood on her forehead where he struck her. I took his knife while he had his way with her, and slit his throat with it. After that night, I made it my mission to make Arendelle remember my name, no matter what.” Eryn’s memory fell onto that horrid night, how the knife began talking as the general’s blood ran through the runes etched into the blade. He remembered how it slipped into his mind, projecting a strange voice into his mind.

You wish to be remembered, boy? To etch your name and likeness into the hearts and minds of all throughout the world?

More than anything.

And you would be willing to do anything?

Yes...

Submit to me, then, and I will give you the power to ensure no one will ever forget you…

Eryn decided to omit this information, knowing it would surely land him a permanent stay in an asylum. Lineaus processed this information, a worried look plastered on his face.

“Eryn… I want to believe you, I really do, but there isn’t really any kind of viable proof that-”

“Malia moved to Karnisvarne. She still lives there today, next to the Abhramsons. You remember Rolond, right?”

“Heh, how could I forget Rolond? Old man has a heart of gold and a will of steel.”

“I’m sure she’d be more open about it now, especially with Elsa in charge.”

“Ye- wait! How do you know Elsa well enough to call her by her first name?”

Fuck, Eryn thought as his whole body went rigid, “Well, I, uh… it’s a bit of a long story honestly…”

Lineaus’s eyes went wide, “Eryn, you’re not back in Arendelle for the reason why I think you're back, are you?”

“Depends on what you're thinking…”

“Are you here to kill Elsa?”

“What makes you think that?” “You want to make sure that Arendelle never forgot who you were. What else would do that than killing the queen herself? So I’ll ask again, are. You. Here. To. kill. Elsa?”

Eryn felt his heart sink to his stomach. He contemplated his answer for a moment before saying, “That… was the idea at first…”

“‘At first?!’ What in the hell do you mean ‘at first?!’” Eryn could see the veins in Lineaus’s neck bulge out again as his eyes narrowed in on him.

“Keep your pants on, I was going to call it off before you decided to butt in. Some old bag in Karnisvarne paid a king’s ransom in Weselton gold for her head on a pike.”

“What was a man with Weselton gold doing in Arendelle of all places?”

“Makes sense, going to Søderlund, the place that hates Arendelle’s guts so much the whole province would sing of her death for generations. You’re the only one who really loves this place from there.”

“So what changed? Why were you going to call it off?”

“...Because she turned out a lot different than I had anticipated. Here I was thinking there was another Runeard or Agnarr on the throne, but Elsa… Elsa’s completely different. She’s kind, caring, and her heart’s full of love for her people. So full in fact, that she doesn’t have enough room to love herself. She feels like she needs to put the weight of the world on her shoulders, that she needs to prove herself to the world that she’s worthy. It’s… heartbreaking, in a word. I didn’t think she deserved to die…”

Lineaus let out a deep sigh, “You should’ve seen her when Agnarr and Iduna were still around. You remember the induction posts, right?”

“Y’mean where we had to serve a whole year as castle guards before being deployed anywhere else? I’ve noticed they’ve added onto the whole place…”

“Heh, well I managed to see Elsa a fair bit during my time,” Lineaus let out a long sigh, “Poor thing always walked around cradling herself, never allowing anyone else to touch her. She always looked like she was on the brink of tears.”

“Must’ve been even worse when the king and queen died.”

“You’re not the one who had to break the news to them. Both Anna and Elsa. They were devastated. Elsa didn’t leave her room for months, not even to attend their funeral. It reminded me of Freya when our father died.”

Eryn felt guilt resonate through his body. He remembered hearing Lineaus talk about his sister before she took her own life, how she was bubbly and full of life, and how her death inspired him to join the military. Imagining Elsa in that same position felt like a kick in the chest.

“So you’d do anything in your power to protect her?”

“Absolutely, even if it meant I had to scale Yggdrasil itself.”

“Then listen to me, she’s currently here in Fjellby, at the Sleepy Troll Inn, top room on the left. Make sure she’s safe and I’ll hand you the man who hired me.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“LINEAUS!”

The two men averted their gazes to the staircase. Eryn felt his blood run cold. Elsa was standing there in her commoner clothes, her hands placed on her hips and looking quite annoyed.

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but visiting hours are-” Elsa undid the bonnet she was wearing to reveal her long platinum blond braid. Lineaus went pale as his eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Y-Your Majesty!”

“Lineaus, why is my bodyguard incarcerated?!”

“Bodyguard?!”

Eryn scratched his head, “Yyyeah, probably should’ve told you that…”

Lineaus shot Eryn a dirty look before returning to the queen, “Elsa I had no idea this was your… personal guard.”

“Having some old bag shoot at you will do that-”

“Derrik, I don’t want to hear it. Lineaus, release him immediately.”

“Derrik? Since when have you gone by that, Eryn?”

“What?!” Elsa began tapping her foot on the floor.

Eryn slapped his hand up against his face as he felt the room get colder. Think of something, you idiot! He thought.

“Um… Derrik is my middle name! I use it whenever I need to, uh, avoid Weselton following me…”

Lineaus gave Eryn a death glare as he fumbled with the keys to the cell. With a loud clanking noise, the cell door swung open as Eryn casually walked out.

“Elsa, if I may-” Lineaus began.

“You have a lot to explain, Lineaus!” Elsa snapped, “I sent you up here to process the bandit situation, and you never reported back! Not only that, you threw my personal bodyguard in prison for no reason! Care to explain what Derrik did?”

“Because ‘Derrik’ is… wait, you haven’t been receiving my letters?”

It was Elsa’s turn to look shocked, “Letters? As in more than one? How many have you been sending?”

“I’ve been writing one every day for the past month.”

“The past month? I haven’t gotten a single letter! So you’ve taken care of the bandit situation, then?” “That’s just it, there aren’t any bandits around here, at least from what I’ve seen. I’ve tried talking to Governor Haadrikson about it, but he simply just waves my recommendations of withdrawal off with a ‘they’re out there, I just know it!’”

Elsa pursed her lips, deep in thought. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow, Lineaus,” she said, “For now, just make sure no one knows I’m here, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lineaus saluted the queen as she returned her bonnet to her head, concealing her hair. Eryn gave Lineaus a small nod before turning to Elsa, who gave him a ferocious glare that could scare wolves. He honestly never seen her this mad since… well, since two days ago. God, she looks hot when- DAMMIT! NOT NOW! He thought as she walked up the stairs. Eryn followed suit, unsure of what the queen had in store for him.

XXXXXX

“I cannot believe you got yourself arrested, Derrik!” Elsa scolded in a hushed tone, “I thought the idea was that we needed to be hidden around here.” The two of them were back in The Sleepy Troll Inn, next to the fireplace. Eryn sat in a velvet chair, watching the flames in the hearth dance around the charred logs as he contemplated his answer.

“It’s not like I was expecting to run into Lineaus,” Eryn retorted, “Man’s always been high strung ever since we met.”

“That’s another thing, why didn’t you tell me you knew Lineaus? I’m sure I could’ve arranged something more friendly between you tw-” “The last time Lineaus and I met was less than friendly. Asshole gave me a black eye, I broke several of his ribs. Even told me that if I ever came back, he’d be the one to string me up on the gallows.” Looking over to Elsa, Eryn was confused on whether or not she was shocked at him calling Lineaus an asshole or finding out what had happened between Eryn and Lineaus.

“Lineaus wouldn’t do tha-”

”Men can do awful things when people don’t care enough!” he snapped. He watched as Elsa’s eyes went wide. “S-sorry.”

“What drove you two apart?” Elsa took a seat in the chair right next to him, leaning against the armrest. Eryn let out a small sigh.

“I witnessed a man Lineaus looked up to, who he aspired to be one day, commit a horrid atrocity. I tried to explain it to him, but he wouldn’t believe me. I… had to take matters into my own hands. Ended up getting called a traitor and had to run for my life.”

“I-I can’t believe Lineaus would do something like that. He’s never been like that around us before.”

“My guess is that he didn’t want the image of his role model tainted. He was a different man back then, with big aspirations. I don’t blame him for reacting the way he did, but it pained me that he still holds some kind of grudge.”

Elsa placed her hand on his arm, “Derrik, I’m sorry that happened. When this is all over, I’ll look into this myself and make sure Lineaus doesn’t bother y-”

“I appreciate that, your majesty, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Of course it is. You’ve done so much for us already, keeping me and Anna safe, apprehending the man who poisoned me, it only makes sense that I do something to help you.”

Gulit settled in the bottom of Eryn’s heart like sediment along the bottom of a river. “I-I think I’ll turn in for the night. Got a big day ahead of us,” he said rising up from his seat

“Derrik, are you sure?” Elsa asked as she followed suit.

“Positive, g’night,” Eryn hastily walked up the stairs and slinked back into his room. He softly closed the door behind him and slumped against it. Here she was, offering to help him and for what? He had tried to kill her twice, lied to her face multiple times, and even attacked her brother in law. He just needed to get away from this hellhole once and for all once this situation with the governor had been resolved.

Strangely enough, Eryn’s thoughts lingered back on his father. What would he think, seeing Eryn as nothing more than a shifty murderer? How would he react seeing his son disgrace his name, going around lying and ruthlessly killing people? Eryn buried his head in his hands as he felt tears form in the corners of his eyes for the first time in years.

One way or another, he needed to leave Arendelle behind forever, for his and Elsa’s sake.

XXXXXX

The moon shined high over the Arenfjord, its rays dancing on the water in spectacular fashion. The people of Arendelle were fast asleep, save for a small tavern in the heart of the town called The Summer Flurry, named in honor of the queen’s magic. Inside, a small group of men were gathered around a fairly large table, each cloaked to hide their faces. Everyone huddled together and began talking in hushed tones.

“It’s been over a month! What has he been doing?!” “Is he dead? He has to be!”

“She’s just one woman! How can some ditzy broad best Eryn?”

The man in the middle slammed his fist onto the table, silencing the others almost immediately.

“Look, it’s obvious that Eryn has failed,” the mysterious man said in a soft hushed tone, his voice nasally and high pitched, “It’s onto us now to finish the job.”

“How?” one of the others whispered, this time a rough and coarse voice, “Eryn knew the most out of all of us, and if he’s out of the picture-”

The man in the middle pulled his cloak back to reveal a middle aged man with blond hair and an eyepatch covering his left eye. The light of the lantern in the center of the table glistened in his working sapphire eye. “Not a problem,” he said, “We have enough information to work with. There’s a major event in the North Wing tomorrow around 6:30. We just throw this in the room,” he pulled out a small round metal ball with a small cotton string sticking out of the top, “and BOOM! The queen is blown to bits.”

“And Eryn?”

“Fuck him, he had his chance! We’ll just take the gold for ourselves and leave this hellhole once and for all!” Everyone at the table murmured in agreement. The time for waiting has passed, and the time for action is now.

Tomorrow night, this charade ends, and the Snow Queen will be dead...

#frozen fanfiction #disney frozen #OC #queen elsa #princess anna #olaf #kristoff #duke of weselton #hans #fanfiction #assassination #Eryn Odrikson #blood tw #gore tw #mature #rape tw

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jengis-morrangis · 5 years

Text

Separated at Birth

This took me waay too long to make. I decided to take my own spin on the separated at birth story. Like I said in the previous post, I’ve got a few other ideas coming down the pike so stay tuned. Enjoy!

P.S. The Starship Troopers movie sux!

Mabel bounced her legs against the park bench where she sat, crunching snow beneath her winter boots as she waited anxiously. She shook slightly at a cold gust of wind and tucked herself deeper into her sweater.

She was waiting on a bench outside a study hall on the University of Oregon campus, holding a manilla folder tightly to her chest. Again she opened the folder and reread the description for the twentieth time in the last hour, even though she had memorized the entire thing: five-ten, brown hair, birthmark on forehead, and a few other details.

Soon a group of a dozen students began emptying out of the classroom hall. Some walked off to their own devices and some chatted in groups as they got out, but none matched the description so far. Suddenly she spotted a man walking out with his hands tucked into his sweater and steamy breath billowing through his scarf. He had a blue backpack on and was walking tall with his shoulders back. She stood up from the bench and approached him.

“Hi there.” She said, trying to hold back her hopeful excitement. He stopped and looked down at her. “Are you Frederick Ottinger?”

He paused for a moment, quickly looking her up and down. He pulled his scarf down and spoke. “Yes, that’s me.” He said casually. Mabel squealed in delight, hopping up and down before lunging forward and wrapping him in a tight hug. He didn’t hug her back, instead he tensed up and held his arms out awkwardly to his sides. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?” He asked.

Mabel let go and backed away, suddenly feeling bashful. “No, no you wouldn’t remember me.” She said, much quieter. She perked up as she remembered the folder in her hands. “I’m your twin sister, Mabel!” She said enthusiastically.

He didn’t say anything at first, frowning in confusion. “What?” He asked after a moment of pause. “How can that be?”

Mabel held out her arms, presenting him the manilla folder. He looked down at the folder, then back to her eyes, then back to the folder before tentatively taking it from her hands and opening it. His facial expression changed every few seconds as he read through its contents. “When we were born, a nurse immediately took you away and sold you to human traffickers. They told our parents that you had suffocated to death.” She said as he continued reading. “When law enforcement found out what happened and the nurse was arrested several months ago, we hired a personal investigator to track you down.”

He was silent for a while. He was still reading, only now he seemed completely shocked. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he didn’t seem to be breathing. “Th-this is crazy!” He said with a shaky voice. He looked at his watch and back to Mabel. “Look, I’ve really got to be somewhere soon, but I really want to talk about this.” He said genuinely. “Maybe over dinner?”

Mabel smiled. “I would like that.”

===

“I can’t believe this.” Fred said distantly as he reread the folder. Mabel sat across the table from him in the small booth of the restaurant they decided on. It was a small hole-in-the-wall pizza place that seemed comfy enough. They sat down and ordered food before she gave the folder to Fred, allowing him to read it again.

Mabel took another bite of her cheese pizza as he placed the folder on the table and rubbed his temples. He let out a stressed sigh and looked up at Mabel. This was clearly a life changing discovery for him, and even though he was clearly stressed, he was also trying to keep calm and figure the situation out.

“So… what’s your story?” Mabel asked tentatively.

“My story?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, catch me up to speed.” Mabel was hesitant to ask. Even the best case scenario after being sold into human trafficking couldn’t have been too good.

He waited for a moment, deep in thought. “Well,” He began slowly. “I don’t remember the people who originally took me from…” He paused. “Our parents.” He said, gesturing between himself and Mabel. “My earliest memories were probably around three years old, when I was growing up in an orphanage in Oregon.” He looked down at the table glumly. “Rough times in there.” He paused for a moment, and Mabel felt a ping of regret for asking. He seemed so pained by it, and judging by her first impressions of him, he seem good at containing his more intense emotions.

He realized how long he had been silent when he looked up and made eye contact with her. He quickly sat up straight and wiped the look from his face. “Anyway, I was adopted by a family when I was seven. I was confused at first when you said my last name was Ottinger, ‘cause that’s what it was originally before I was adopted, when it became ‘Corduroy.’”

“Corduroy? Wait, your last name is Corduroy?” Mabel interrupted, and Fred seemed surprised by her reaction.

Fred nodded cautiously. “Yeah, is there something wrong with that?”

Mabel shook her head. “No, not at all. But did you happen to have a sister named Wendy? She was a redhead. She had a bunch of brothers. Always wore flannel.”

He frowned. “Yeah, I did. How did you know that?”

“I hung out with her all the time! This is so cool! How did I never see you before?”

“Hold on, you’ve been to Gravity Falls?”

“You bet I have! I went there every summer since I was twelve! I stayed with my great uncle Stan. Oh my gosh, it was the coolest place on earth, with all the weird junk that went on there.”

He seemed taken aback by this new fact. “Wow. Yeah I usually went to work with my uncle Steve at his logging camp in upstate Oregon over the summer. I do know Stan. The ‘Man of Mystery.’ Seemed pretty neat. Kinda weird to think I’m related to him. My sister worked at his shop.”

Mabel was amazed. “Woah, what a small wor— wait a minute. Your dad made you work at a logging camp over the summer?” She interrupted herself.

Fred shrugged. “Eh, I think he did it to toughen me up. I was a pretty wimpy kid by Corduroy standards. It was all in love, though.” He pulled out his wallet that contained a family picture of he and his siblings. His brothers and sister were all smiling together, one next to the other while he stuck out due to his differing hair color and noticeable size difference. He handed the wallet to Mabel, who looked at it with adoration.

“Aww, that’s so cute!” She exclaimed. She looked up and down from the picture of the small, skinny boy to the grown, filled out man in front of her.

“Yep! Never enough children for the Corduroy family.” Said Fred.

“How cool is all of this? Our entire lives we’ve been almost crossing paths and never knew it?” She shook her head in amazement and handed his wallet back. “So how did you end up here in Eugene?”

He snapped out of a similar daze to Mabel. “Right, well once I graduated high school I joined the navy for two years and served as an engineer on a destroyer. I got out a year ago. Now here I am, going to college.”

“Wow! This is soo cool!” Mabel whispered in amazement. “Frederick Corduroy…”

“Please, call me Dipper.” He said, pulling up his hair to reveal a constellation shaped birthmark.

Laughing as they walked out the restaurant, Dipper held out his arm that Mabel linked with hers before they strolled down the street, talking as they enjoyed each other’s warmth. “So where to now?” Asked Mabel.

“Well, there’s a movie theater nearby, a park. Uh, hmm let me think.” Dipper stroked his chin as he pondered. “Well there’s also a mini-golf course down the street. Hmm, but it’s probably too cold for that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mabel yelled in excitement. “I’m totes down for some mini-golf! Let’s boogie!” She shouted while tugging him along. “Prepare to get schooled, chum!”

===

“Mabel Pines lines up her shot. This old timer from Piedmont, California is infamous for her skill in mini-golf. She is a champion of golfing competitions all around California, and from the looks of it, this windmill doesn’t stand a chance.” Mabel narrated herself. “She lines up what looks to be a solid fourteen footer,” She brought back the putter and tapped the ball. “She takes the shot, she scores!” She shouted as the ball maneuvered around the obstacle and dropped into the hole, before making a fake cheering sound as she waved her arms through the air.

“Impressive!” Dipper admitted. “You seem to really know your way around a putter.”

“You bet your bottom drawer, buster! I’ve been doing this since I could make a fist with my ravioli-sized hand, and from tonight’s performance, you better pick up the pace if you ever wanna come close to beating me.” Mabel bantered.

“I think I can get there one day.” He said before tapping the ball on the same windmill, only for it to hit one of the barrier walls and roll back towards him until it was five feet behind the starting position. He looked up at Mabel and shrugged. “Maybe.” He said flatly before they both burst into laughter.

They moved onto the next obstacle, which Mabel surpassed with ease. “Man, you must have done this with your friends all the time growing up.” Dipper commented with amazement at how nothing could truly stand in her way.

Mabel’s shoulder slumped slightly at his words. “Mmm, not really.” She said deflated. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Most people just wrote me off as ‘weird.’” She said bitterly. She forced herself to look down. She didn’t know why she just said that. She got too comfortable around Dipper. She got too comfortable and now he knows one of her deepest, most personal insecurities. He can put two and two together to realize from her previous behavior from the moment she first hugged him that she was just a spazzy social outcast.

She saw Dipper glance at her out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t say anything. She knew he was reading her, examining her body language. She suddenly felt very exposed. A churning feeling in her stomach grew as she froze and felt her cheeks heat, despite the cold. She didn’t want to show any signs of weakness or emotional distress. The last thing she needed was his pity.

She didn’t realize she hadn’t moved until Dipper intruded on her thoughts. “Hey Mabel,” He said gently. Mabel pried her eyes away from the golf ball on the ground and forced herself to meet his eyes. She expected to find him looking at her with pity, what she saw instead shocked her. He was looking at her with an expression of total understanding. Empathy. “I get it, Mabel.” He said in a way that, paired with the look he gave her, made her insides twist in an entirely different way. It wasn’t what she was feeling a minute ago, instead more similar to that of butterflies. It helped to calm her, and in that split second she realized just how caring her brother turned out to be.

“I’m sorry.” She said in almost a whisper.

“It’s alright, Mabel. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He assured her. They stood there for a moment, the silence of the night penetrated only by a passing gust of chilling wind and the distant talk of other golfers. She surprised even herself with a sad sniffle. One that she isn’t unfamiliar with, and Dipper came to her in an instant. Wrapping her in a hug so warm and safe in contrast to the air around them that she pulled him closer, tighter. He gently stroked her hair and let her cry into his shoulder.

“I-I’m just s-so glad I’ve finally found you.” She sobbed. “It’s been so l-lonely, growing up by m-myself.”

“I know, Mabel. I know.” He whispered. Mabel was so happy to hold him, to finally have someone in her life who would stick up for her and stand by her side for support.

“I always wondered what it would have been like if you had survived. How different our lives would have been if we’d grown up together.”

Dipper chuckled slightly at that. “Heh, we probably would have been close.” Mabel tightened her lip in a smile as more tears streamed down her face. She squeezed Dipper a little harder.

Once Mabel had stopped crying, they pulled away and found comfort in each other’s smile. “I think we’ve had enough mini golf for tonight.” Said Dipper. “You ready to go?” Mabel nodded.

They arrived at the counter of the quartermaster and returned the equipment to the young woman stationed there. As she was checking in the putters, she kept stealing glances at the two of them, but said nothing. It was when she handed them the receipt that she said, “You two make a very cute couple.” She said it kindly, but Mabel immediately felt herself blush and get even redder than from the cold.

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Oh, we’re not—” They interrupted each other.

“Together.”

“Together.” They both finished, laughing heartily at their tandem speaking. The young woman nodded bashfully and stowed the equipment. The twins walked off, arm in arm as they strode down the street, chatting away about anything and everything. All the years they missed, all the moments they never shared. Hours seemed to pass in an instant when they arrived at Mabel’s apartment. Dipper walked her to the door.

“Tonight was nice. I had a lot of fun.” Dipper said with a lopsided smile.

“Me too.” Mabel returned the smile.

There was a beat of silence between the two of them.

“Could I see you again sometime?” Dipper asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, right!” Mabel said after she realized she had been silently staring at his chestnut eyes. “Yeah, that would be awesome! I’d love to hang out again.”

Dipper smiled before bringing her in close for a hug.

“Take care, Mabel.” Dipper said as he walked back to the sidewalk.

“You too, Dipper.” She replied. They waved goodbye and Dipper started to walk down the sidewalk. Mabel watched him for as long as possible until he disappeared down the street. She made her way to her room and suddenly found herself in her bed wearing her pajamas. She had a lot on her mind. Time seemed to flash by. She laid her head on her pillow, feeling calm and subdued.

For a few minutes she didn’t want to sleep. She just wanted to bask in the happiness of today. The fact that her twin brother is alive. The fact that he is so kind and sweet. The fact that they get along so well they are already finishing each other’s sentences. She giggled a bit at that last thought. She thought about how much she wished she could date a man like Dipper; he was sweet, handsome, and completely adorkable. But that was another thought for another day. She picked up her phone from the nightstand next to her bed and dialed a familiar number. She waited excitedly as it rang a few times until an answer came from the other end.

“Hey mom. I found him!”

===

Eventually they decided it was time for Dipper to meet their parents. They made the trip to Piedmont one day, arriving outside the house as he nervously prepared himself and Mabel reassured him. It was a whole new flood of emotions upon meeting his parents for the first time. More so for their parents. Dipper didn’t remember them at all and had no real emotional connection to them, but he understood the magnitude of the moment and was still delighted to meet his biological parents.

They met up several more times after the visit to their parents. Anytime they had no classes or other obligations. They did anything from a trip to the bowling alley or mini-golf, to Dipper leading a game of DD&MD. Dipper told Mabel all about his interactions with the supernatural and taught her how to make coded messages, while Mabel told Dipper more about their parents and family and taught him how to knit and make sweaters.

They had a lot to catch up on after two decades of not knowing each other. Their lives had played out so differently in so many ways. But Mabel could tell they’re interactions were different from how she had known other siblings to act. In a way it was a lot closer in their own unique way. She didn’t think much of it; she loved to see him and after all this time, rightfully so. She loved just about everything about him. The feeling of his warmth when they hugged, holding his hand and running her thumb across his wide knuckles, looking into his eyes and admiring just how handsome he was.

There were a few times that she had to pry her eyes away from him after she realized she had been staring too long, and realizing where she had been staring. His eyes were a sight to beheld. They were a mirror of her own, but there was something so intense in them. Everytime he looked at her there was some sort of spark in them that made her heart flutter in an odd way she couldn’t quite put words to. Weird, huh?

Tonight they decided to watch a movie together at Dipper’s small apartment off campus. It wasn’t the first time they decided to. They usually went back to his apartment after a night out to watch a movie or cook dinner, only to fall asleep on the couch together. They were laying down, snuggled closely together with Mabel resting her head on Dipper’s chest with her arms wrapped around his body and he rested his arms on her back as they watched the movie.

“Come on you apes! Do you wanna live forever?” Shouted the soldier on screen as he and other soldiers ran out into a hallway and onto smaller spaceships. As they zoomed off towards the surface of a nearby planet, text came up on the screen that read:

They’ll keep fighting

And they’ll win!

The credits rolled soon after that, and Mabel cheered. “Yeah! Go humans! Get those stinky bugs!”

Dipper blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes. “Man, this movie always gets on my nerves.” He said annoyed. “The director didn’t even read the book! And yet he wants to make a satirical movie of it?” He shook his head dramatically. “Heinlein must be rolling in his grave.”

“Yeah whatever, mister party pooper.” Said Mabel as she playfully jabbed him in the chest, before cuddling up closer to him. “If you’re so smart, why don’t you make a better one?” She asked rhetorically.

He frowned as if in deep thought for a few seconds before puffing up his chest exaggeratedly. “Maybe I will…” He said with a sly grin.

Mabel giggled at his enthusiasm. “You’re so silly.”

“What? You don’t think I will?” He asked with faux offense. “I’ll show you. I’ll show everyone!” He jabbed her in the sides, causing her to flinch. He continued to tickle her and she giggled in response. She tried to counter him—grabbing at his hands, jabbing at his sides, tickling his stomach and chest. She started to gain the advantage and Dipper was on the defensive. He howled as she began to overwhelm him. They fell to the floor, Dipper on top of her, both in a fit of laughter as pressed their foreheads together.

A nonverbal ceasefire was declared as they caught their breathe, heaving air to slow their rapidly beating hearts. Mabel looked him in the eyes again. There was something different about them. A spark, that wasn’t new, but had been growing every time he looked at her. It was there from the very beginning, but now it was so warm and inviting. They slowly moved closer to one another, and she could feel his warm breath on her. Their lips brushed against each other, until they came together for a kiss.

They melted into each other. Exploring each other’s mouths as their hands roamed each other’s bodies and combed through each other’s hair. One of Dipper’s hands found itself under her t-shirt, gently kneading her soft breast. She felt such ecstasy from his warmth. She could feel his excitement through his shorts as he pressed into her hips while she wrapped her legs around his waist. They soon broke apart, gasping for air as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Everything about this moment made butterflies flutter in her stomach. She wanted more.

At that thought, she bolted upright as an alarm sounded in her head. She started to quickly scoot away from Dipper as he stood up on his knees and reached his arms out, saying something Mabel couldn’t process in an attempt to get her to keep calm. Her eyes were open wide with terror, staring at him from only a few feet away. Every time she scooted scooted away, he scooted forward in trying to close the space between them. Voices chided her as she tried to figure out what was happening.

‘Uh Mabes, this is your brother. Y’know, like blood related! Like, long lost twin bro, who you shouldn’t be macking faces with!’ She didn’t realize she was hyperventilating until Dipper snapped her out of her shock.

“Mabel… don’t freak out here, alright?” He said cautiously.

“Wha-whadya mea- what?” Mabel stuttered. “What do you mean ‘don’t freak out’, do you realize what just happened? What we just did?”

“Mabel please, just listen to be before you jump to conclusions.”

“Jump to conclusions? What does that even mean? This is pretty straightforward!” Mabel couldn't control her voice from rising. He scooted a knee forward and reached out for her hands. “No, don’t come any closer!” She shouted, and he flinched and drew back like he had been burned. He sat down on his knees, looking at the floor. Mabel felt guilt growing in her stomach. She didn’t want to hurt him, she was just afraid. “I’m sorry, Dip. I don’t mean to be cruel, I’m just not sure what this means.” She brought her knees to her chest. “And I’m scared.” She mumbled into her pajama pants.

Dipper was scratching the back of his neck anxiously. He looked up and made eye contact with her for a split second before darting his gaze to the floor. “Can I just… talk?” He asked nervously.

Mabel gave him a frightened and uncertain look, afraid of what he might say, but she willed herself to nod-- she at least wanted to let him say what he has to say before she has another outburst. He took a deep breath before sitting down flat on the floor and crossing his legs as he leaned his back on the couch.

“When I was younger, I really looked up to my siblings. Especially Wendy.” He emphasised. “In more ways than I should’ve…” The way he said that made her look up at him to see his expression, only to find him looking back at her with a look of sorrow. “I was…” He gulped. “Not so platonically attracted to her.” Mabel felt her grip tighten on her pajamas.

“She was just so… wonderful. I truly felt something great for her. Maybe even loved her…” He paused for a moment and shook away the faraway look in his eyes. “My family eventually found out and my mother gave me a talk.” He looked down at the floor again. “I was heartbroken when I had to come to terms with the fact that I had to give up what I felt for her. I realized just how truly impossible it was. But you Mabel, I’ve never felt so connected with anyone than I have with you. And I don’t want to throw that all away out of fear of what others will think.”

Mabel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She certainly felt conflicted, but all the little voices of logic in her mind were screaming at her that the answer was obvious. “Dip, I really want to agree with you right now, but I just can’t— can’t…” She didn’t want to finish that sentence. “I mean, what would our parents think? What would your family think?”

Dipper scowled in contemplation. It was clearly something he hadn’t quite thought of. “Our families will want what we think is best for us.” He said firmly after a moment of thinking. Mabel didn’t respond. It was almost a minute before he spoke again. “But I think the better question would be whether or not it’s what you want.”

Mabel hesitated. “I dunno, Dip.” She said nervously. She could feel her throat tightening as she spoke. “This is a lot to take in and— I mean I really just met you and I really don’t want to mess up what we have because I like— really care about you and— and…” She dropped her head into her hands and choked on her words. She felt Dipper’s hand rest on her shoulder.

“I get it, Mabes. I feel the same thing.” He said as he scooted closer to her. “I don’t want to lose what we have, but at the same time I feel like there’s more to us than just… this.” He gestured between them.

He moved his palm to cup her cheek. Mabel steadied herself and nuzzled into the comfort of his hand. She looked up to see him looking at her with that spark in his eyes. It amazed her, even now.

“I’m not entirely sure what the future holds. I don’t have all the answers, but I know that what I feel for you is genuine. And our families would want what we feel is best for us, and we should want what’s best for us.”

He moved his hand from her cheek and wrapped his arm around her back. He pulled her close to his side and kissed her on her forehead. She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach finally conquer the twisting in her gut.

“Okay.” She said with a bit more confidence. “I trust you.”

As she leaned up to kiss him, she knew she was making the right choice.

#pinecest #myfics

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defendersofaurita · 5 years

Photo

Title: Converging and Diverting

Author/Artist: AnchoredTether

Rating: M [graphic depictions of violence, major character death, dark themes]

Pairings: Plance [Pikelavar], Kallura [Thunderyun]

Series: Defenders of Aurita

Chapter: 13/?

Summary: Meklavar has a formidable secret. Pike has an objective for which he's willing to kill. Despite their odds, they might have a chance of realizing their seemingly impossible desires if they fight for them together. Revelations are brought to light, quests align, and their hope lies in the power of a common cause.

Aurita is on the brink of desolation and it will require more than courage and sacrifice to save what is left. As the stakes continue to rise, what was once a fight for restoring a broken kingdom turns into a war far more sinister.

CH13 :: CONVERGING AND DIVERTING

"It's been days and we still haven't seen or heard from Meklavar or Pike." Block said when he brought over a tray filled with various meals to their table in the busy tavern.

"They'll know to meet here," Valayun piped hopefully as she grabbed her bowl of soup with an excited grin. "It's the largest tavern and it's in the center of town. It's the most logical place to meet." She shrugged. "Meklavar's short, and Pike's arm was still injured, so maybe they're just taking a while longer to get here."

"Being short doesn't make you that much slower at walking." Thunder deadpanned.

"If they're not here within the next day," Jiro started, "then we'll leave a message with the innkeeper and head north."

"Just one more day?" Block looked at the paladin with concern. "What if they're in trouble? What if the dragon caught up to them? Shouldn't we go looking for them?"

"Shiro doesn't have much time left, it is imperative that I find the sorcerer." His expression was stern. "Whether you choose to accompany me or not is up to your discretion."

"I will come with you," Thunder offered, his gaze hard. "I at least owe Shiro that much."

"I... feel more inclined to stay," Valayun said. "For all we know, Pike or Meklavar could desperately need a healer. If they aren't here by tomorrow evening I will try looking for them."

"I'm with Valayun," Block said. "But if you leave something of yours with us I can use a tracking spell to meet back up with you guys."

Thunder nodded, taking the ring off his index finger and placing it in Block's upturned palm. "Don't lose it, it's important to me."

"I can take something less valuable-"

"No, the stronger the sentiment the stronger the spell. It'll help you find us with greater ease."

"Okay," Block held onto the ring tight before placing it carefully in one of his pockets. "I'll keep it secret, keep it safe."

][ --- ][

It took Pike nearly three days to heal enough that they could start traveling again. Thanks to Korhan's healing salve and various ingredients, Pike's recovery was swift. Meklavar realized Korhan's claim that khaliit were a resilient species held true - the only other species she had seen (aside from herself as dragonborn) with such strength and adaptability were galra.

"Princess, we need to get you a change of clothes! Your previous outfit was completely destroyed aside from the armor…" Korhan distressed. "Unfortunately I have nothing worthy of a princess!!"

"Korhan, we're traveling to Darmuth and finding a sorcerer. It's not like I need to wear a ballgown," Meklavar said impassively. "Besides, I'm trying to keep my identity secret, remember?"

"Well that doesn't mean you can't still do it in style!" Korhan sounded offended. "I got the blood out of Pike's scarf and his pants were salvageable but I'm afraid everything else was too far rent from the dragon's claws. Luckily we're a similar height and build…" He rummaged through a closet, flinging the occasional item of clothing behind him.

Pike glanced over at Meklavar with a dubious expression. He was currently shirtless, his freshly removed stitches leaving ragged scars almost as dark as the crimson markings along his back. "Well, at least I don't need pants, otherwise I'd have to tailor them, and that's always a pain."

"Tailor them, or tail-or them?" She snickered.

"Hey, this is no laughing matter! Do you have any idea how much I chafe down there unless there's a proper hole for my tail?" Pike sighed. "And Aurita doesn't have a large enough population of khaliit to have pants for us readily available."

She frowned as the wheels in her head began to turn. "Huh. I never thought about something like that. I wonder how I would go about making something that's low in demand but at the same time essential for those who need it more available to the populace…"

"I mean, most tailors are willing to alter pants for khaliit, khariit, and argonians, but whew, do they charge a mighty fee… it's easier if I just do it myself." He shrugged.

"Perhaps just a simple regulation that all alterations should be charged as the same price to avoid discrimination…" She held a hand to her lips as she thought. "Or even that such alterations should be free if they don't provide necessary clothing for a certain species' specifications…" She pointed up to his head. "Hoods too, you'd need them altered for your ears."

"Some galra have similar specifications, orcs need three-fingered gloves, you and dwarves need shorter tailored clothes, and I don't even know what centaurs do for clothing and armor for their lower half."

She swatted his head for the jab towards her height. "I'm pretty certain all the centaurs live in Namithir which is not my division. Well, at least... wasn't my division. But, it's still interesting to consider."

"Look at you two," Korhan beamed, "Talking about demographics and politics!" He tossed a shirt at Pike's face, causing his ears to swivel back with a grunt. "Now put on this tight shirt and let's get out there!"

][ --- ][

"How do you know Shiro?" Jiro asked as he, Thunder, and Rover made their way through the crowded streets of Darmuth. It would take them almost half the day just to get out of the city, but Jiro was confident the sorcerer's home would only take them a day or two's journey north.

The ranger was quiet a moment, guarded as always, but decided that the twin brother of Shiro was someone he could probably trust. "Shiro found me after I was exiled from my village. I was only eleven when it happened, but he showed me how to survive. He gave me reason to hope."

"You were exiled? Why?"

"I'm originally from Namithir. And apparently my mother had to have been galran, since my markings started to show once I reached adolescence. The village must have assumed my mother was human since I didn't have any elvish markings but I still looked like all of them." He clearly remembered the day it happened and how some simple purple stripes on his face could cause so much hatred to seep from the hearts of people who he thought were kind and charitable. The true faces of people were hidden deep beneath acceptable facades and Thunder learned that the true intentions of most people were ugly and selfish.

"What about your father?"

"He died when I was five. I have no idea if my mother is alive or dead from what little I could get out of him. But regardless…" He let out a sigh. "I've lived on my own for most of my life." Rover let out a small whine which caused him to gently pet the giant wolf's head. "Well, until I met this guy."

"Hmm… you must have met Shiro when he was traveling to Henat. Did you end up accompanying him there?"

"Yeah… we parted ways when we reached Staerene. But I saw him again many years later, right before the Invasion."

"Huh… and… he never mentioned me?" Jiro almost sounded wounded.

Thunder frowned, uncertain how to address the paladin's hurt. "He never really talked about himself… never about his family, his interests, or personal concerns. It was always about the mission or about helping others."

"I suppose that's just a testament of D'Jahno's training and the seven pillars of knighthood." Jiro paused, his brows lowering in skepticism. "That's hilarious you would say he never talked about himself, because he'd never shut up about his 'bright internal light' and how he was chosen to be a paladin. It's all just because he can use chakra and I can't."

Thunder offered an encouraging smile. "I guess identical twins aren't quite so identical after all. But hey, you're still a paladin, so there's that."

"You're right… and there's nothing more fulfilling than being a paladin."

][ --- ][

"So how does this Castle of Lions thing work??" Pike asked as they headed towards Darmuth on foot, having left the giant tent behind.

"Oh it's super fascinating!" Meklavar started, "It's through a locator spell combined with a warp enchantment if I remember correctly. Korhan can explain it better though."

"So this bracelet here," Korhan held up his wrist and pulled back his sleeve for Pike to see the white band with a cyan colored spell etched into its face, "Works as a locator for the Castle. I can always find the Castle so long as I have this, so it works like a tracking spell. With the bracelet, I can also summon the Castle to wherever I am."

"Wait, so you can teleport the Castle right here if you wanted to??" Pike looked like Korhan just told him he could resurrect the dead. "Even though it's half a mile back that way? And it's huge?"

"Well, relatively speaking, the Castle is quite small. But yes - it takes a couple of doboshes to work, however, and it takes longer the greater the distance."

"But doesn't that mean that anyone could stumble across the Castle and take your stuff?"

"I don't leave my front door unlocked, Pike. And before you say 'there are no doors that cannot be unlocked' I'll have you know, I have plenty of protective enchantments that keep the Castle hidden from thieving eyes such as yours."

"I'm not a-"

"Besides, the bracelet would alert me if anyone entered. I can always warp the Castle here if that happens because it only transports inanimate objects. Any persons inside would just remain at that location."

"Huh. Neat. I guess we don't have to stress anymore about finding shelter at night."

"Which is good considering Valayun still has our share of the loot," Meklavar added.

"Oh? You're traveling with Valayun?" Korhan asked. "Alfor's daughter?"

"The one and the same." She let out a sigh. "She seemed to recognize me as well, but I don't… I don't remember her at all. Or Alfor. But the name Altair sounds like I should know it."

"As you should - Alfor was the royal Chancellor, arguably the most important person in the kingdom after your father."

"I remember him," Pike offered. "He looks just like Valayun except his markings are light blue. Well, I guess it's Valayun who looks like him. Anyway - he wore armor very similar to Shiro's- I mean Jiro's… well, both of them, really."

"That's great, Pike, but I still don't remember him." Meklavar let out what sounded like a growl. "I think I need to just accept the fact I'm never getting those memories back and move on."

"Hey!" Pike spun in front of her, forcing her to stop. "You remembered the night of the Invasion, or at least part of it, just from me talking to you! We are not giving up on your memories!!"

"My memories are nothing but pain and suffering. I don't exactly care to relive all that."

"I know you have good memories mixed in with the bad. Don't you want to remember your family?"

"My entire family is dead, Pike. I think it'd be easier not to remember them."

"Mek…" He put a hand on her shoulder and saw she was on the verge of tears but she was being so strong despite the turmoil of emotions and confusion that raged inside her. Pike's voice was soft, his eyes pained in understanding. "I don't know anything about my father because he died when I was too young to remember. I would kill to have any kind of good memory of him. Your family would want you to remember them, even if it is painful. It will probably be incredibly painful but it'll be worth it. I know your memories are important to you despite what you're thinking now and I know they're important to everyone who was a part of them, including me."

"I'm sorry about your father… and…" Her eyebrows lowered and her voice shook ever so slightly. "My memories are important to you? But you said we were just acquaintances."

"Well…" His markings started to turn a bright red but his eyes were sincere. He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck. "I figured I was just an acquaintance to you… but to me? …You were kind of my only friend."

She blinked a few times, completely baffled. "I… was?"

"Most my childhood I was a slave and even though living in the castle as a servant was phenomenally better it's not like there was anyone my age to interact with. Aside from you, that is. But even that was limited. But outside of my family? You're the only one I could really call a friend." He jabbed his thumb behind him to the elder elf. "Korhan comes close. But he's more like an uncle. Same with Olia I guess, but she's more like an aunt. And her kids were much too young to befriend me. All they would do is chase my tail anyways." He sighed. "Khariit pups are a nuisance."

Korhan giggled. "I remember when that happened. They chased you and your sisters throughout the whole castle."

Pike groaned. "Uhhhgh it was awful. My legs were sore for weeks."

Meklavar gave him a wicked grin before continuing their walk towards the city. "So it was your classic game of dog-chase-cat?"

Pike stood there and pouted a moment as the two elves lengthened the distance from him. "Not a cat," he growled before running up to them and slowing to their pace. His ear rotated when he heard Meklavar whisper something that only he would be able to hear, her amber hues glancing up to him.

"Thank you, Pike."

He offered her a quiet hum.

][ --- ][

"Oh quiznack," Valayun swore as she rummaged through her satchel.

Block raised an eyebrow at her. "Quiznack?"

"I should have given Jiro and Thunder some of our loot!" She threw her head back in a frustrated groan. "I'm a horrible treasurer."

"I don't think there are any towns between here and the sorcerer's place for them to even spend money in, so I think they'll be fine. I do wonder though how Pike and Meklavar are holding up."

"Oh Pike's a thief. I'm certain that if they needed money he'd figure out a way to acquire some."

"Probably." Block frowned. "But then again he said he wasn't a thief."

"He probably just said that to throw off your guard. What kind of thief proudly announces they're such?"

"I dunno, a good one?"

"Exactly," she said decisively as if that explained everything. "We have to make it a priority then to make sure we meet back up with both Pike and Meklavar and Jiro and Thunder, that way we can at least divide up the loot between us if we do part ways again. I am hoping, however, that we stick together. I think we make a great team." She lowered her gaze, her expression nostalgic. "I'd always dreamed of being part of a spectacular group of people, out there fighting the good fight, helping people in need…"

"It is nice to travel with others," Block agreed. "I'm grateful I ran into Meklavar and that she decided to help me, otherwise I don't think I'd ever get past the Wiebian Swamps. Although… it's weird to think she's actually-"

Valayun quickly grabbed the sorcerer's shoulder, giving him a warning look.

"Right. Secrecy." Although the market street was loud with bustling people, there was no knowing what prying ears were listening in to their conversation. "But I think it'd be pretty amazing to help her with her 'quest,' if you know what I mean."

"It would be a noble quest indeed," she concurred, looking around at the various stands and booths selling a wide variety of necessities and luxuries. "I would love to continue what my father has started."

"What your father started?"

"I'll tell everyone all about it as soon as we regroup. And we can discuss Meklavar's 'quest' in greater detail as well." She let out a small exclamation once her eyes found what she was looking for, her face lighting up. "As for right now? I'm going to purchase some lovely arrows."

][ --- ][

][ music ][

The city of Darmuth was visible enough that Pike could see the details of the architecture. The city walls had impressive archways and all the rooftops of the numerous tall buildings were a distinct red. As they drew nearer, Pike's brows lowered and his ears perked forward, straining to make out anything amongst the myriad of noises coming from the town.

Meklavar noticed his change in behavior and tried to look where he was looking but his eyes were darting around too much. "What is it?"

"I'm… hearing something within the city walls. It sounds like screaming." He looked over at her and then Korhan. "And I think I got a whiff of smoke, but it's hard to tell from this distance."

"Perhaps we should enter the city from the western gate?" Korhan asked.

"I dunno… by the time we get on that side of the city whatever's going on inside might have migrated over there anyways." They all started when an explosion sounded from the heart of Darmuth, arcs of purple lightning trailing up above the rooftops. "Whatever's going on inside looks serious." He summoned his lance, the ring on his index finger transforming into the weapon he twirled in his hand. "Our teammates could be in danger."

Meklavar stared at the lance before looking up at him. "Are you sure you're healed enough to fight? It was almost impossible to get you out of bed this morning."

"I'll be fine, that's what my chakra is for," he said dismissively. He didn't actually know how many spells he would be able to cast in his current state but he didn't like the idea of Meklavar fighting without him there to ensure no harm came to her. He knew she was plenty capable and stronger than him in more ways than one, but at some point along their travels, he developed an almost instinctual need to protect her. He wasn't sure if it was his servant sense of duty to her or loyalty from their small but meaningful affinity that urged him to vigilant behavior. He reckoned the seeds of safeguarding were planted as soon as she confided in him her secret of being dragonborn and now the roots were firmly weaved deep within his heart.

"Whatever lies ahead, princess," Korhan started as he unsheathed his rapier, "Know that I shall have your back."

"And I…" Pike made a face. "Your side, I guess."

Meklavar took a deep breath as she looked to both of her comrades and then to the danger that lied ahead. "I wouldn't have it any other way. And no formalities, Korhan."

"Yes prin- ahem. Meklavar."

When they reached the city gates the chaos they were greeted with was worse than they could have imagined. Pike tried to make sense of all the sounds and smells that bombarded his senses but there was too much mayhem to understand the situation entirely. Townspeople ran in fear screaming, others brandished weapons of every variety from swords to frying pans, elvish and galran soldiers under the Empire were attacking with all forms of steel and magic, rebel forces fought against the Empire, city guards were running around shouting orders and helping townspeople while also fighting whoever, and another organization that wore facial masks adorned with the design of a maw full of fangs were included in the fray.

"The Fangtides are here, as well as the Empire," Pike hissed.

"Fangtides?" Meklavar asked.

"Rival assassin group." He started to fight an Empire galran and soon enough Meklavar and Korhan had their hands busy with their own oppressors.

"Rival? Does that mean you're part of an organization?" Meklavar shouted over her shoulder while she swung her axe at an elf.

"Of course I'm part of an organization!" One of the Fangtides was headed towards Meklavar but Pike whipped out his lance in time to cut him off. He narrowly dodged a knife to his throat with a pained grunt. His barely healed wounds were already slowing him down and he feared he would only become a burden to his teammates at this rate. He reared back his weapon and released a blast of lightning through the thrust of his lance, creating a clean line that caused a dozen to collapse to the ground. His eyes found a path for them as a wild idea passed his mind.

"Guys, follow me!" He grabbed Meklavar's arm for good measure before he dashed down the street and into an alleyway, Korhan following closely behind as he parried off some attackers. Pike began jumping and climbing his way up towards the rooftops, turning around to help Meklavar up at the parts where it was too difficult.

"Pike, you know we can't jump like-"

"I know, shut up and I'll remind you to thank me if we live through this." He held down the butt of his lance for her to grab and pulled her up to the next ledge, doing the same for Korhan. With some strained effort, the three of them made it up to the brick red rooftops of the city and overlooked the madness that spread throughout the streets like a flood. "There was no way we would have gotten through those homicidal crowds. Up here we can find our teammates faster." He started running across the rooftops and the two elves followed behind him, looking down into the streets as they passed.

"Oh that's not good," Korhan said somberly as they neared the city's center.

"That's druid magic, right?" Pike asked, staring at the vibrant purple arcs of lightning with dread.

"The one and the same."

"Wait, we have the Empire, rebels, an assassin organization, and the Druids here?!" Meklavar asked.

"Seems like it," Pike said somberly.

"What exactly is going on??"

"Valayun!"

"What?"

"Valayun!" Pike stopped, causing the others to halt as well as he pointed to the archer. "I don't see anyone else nearby, but let's regroup with her."

"How about you get her and bring her back up to the rooftops?" Meklavar suggested. "Korhan and I are safer up here and we'll find everyone else faster this way. You're the one who can get up and down with ease."

Pike wanted to argue that he didn't want to leave her side but she had a point and her plan was logical. "Alright," he answered hesitantly. "You can yell directions to me, I'll try to tune in to your voice over the madness down there."

She nodded. "We'll start to head closer to the center of town."

He took a deep inhale before departing, leaping down to ledges and other precarious lips of architecture until he landed on the ground and ran towards Valayun, slashing at anyone who tried to intervene.

Her brows rose when she saw him. "Pike!"

"Where are the others? Meklavar's on the rooftops with Korhan, we're regrouping there." He took her arm and started towards an alleyway where there were less people.

"Korhan?" Valayun shook her head, realizing now was not the time. "Thunder and Jiro split from us this morning but I saw Jiro only a moment ago. I'm afraid I've lost Block entirely."

"It's alright, follow me." He took the lead climbing up to the roof, giving her a hand when necessary. When they reached the top he looked out at the crowds below for the sorcerer donned in gold and green and the paladin in his armor that reminded him of Alfor's. Sure enough, Jiro wasn't far from where he found Valayun. "I'm going to get Jiro, keep an eye out for Block and Thunder on your way to Meklavar and Korhan."

"I'll try to offer aerial support if you need it," she offered, notching an arrow at the ready.

Pike gave her a nod before running across rooftops until he was closer to the paladin. He made his way down into the masses, striking blows with his lance as he fought his way through. When he called out the paladin's name he turned his head towards him, finishing off the fight with his opponent before striding over. "Jiro, we're regrouping on the roof and we can leave as soon as we find Block and Thunder. Do you know where they are?"

"Leave? We can't leave these people in their time of need!"

"Jiro, I know you mean well," he began but he was cut off with a yelp as an assassin tackled him to the ground. He wrestled with her for a brief moment before an arrow suddenly lodged through her throat. His widened eyes followed the angle of the fletching to see Valayun on a nearby rooftop. "I know you mean well," he continued as he stood up, "but we can't handle these odds. If we stay some of us will die, or worse."

"What's worse than dying?"

"Oh I'm sure you can use your imagination." Pike rolled his eyes before leading the paladin back up to the rooftops and meeting up with the rest of the group. They spread around looking for their sorcerer and ranger, heading closer to the center of the city where the worst of the fight raged, and Pike's heart skipped a beat when he found both of them cornered in an alleyway by a druid. Block was fighting them off the best he could since Thunder's blades were not nearly as effective against magic.

Pike moved quickly, traveling from rooftop to rooftop with ease and jumping his way down to land behind the druid cornering his teammates. He transformed his lance back into the silver band around his index finger and instead made a couple hand signs to summon several magical chains from the ground. They snaked around the druid and arced back into the cobblestone, pinning them down. Thunder rushed forward and swiftly took care of the enemy with one of his blades before they could get back up.

"You're alive," Thunder greeted dully.

"Barely."

"Watch out!" Block shouted before casting a shielding spell that blocked an oncoming attack with a loud clash. Pike's eyes widened when he saw what nearly hit them - a druid's hands were held up, controlling two halves of brightly glowing purple cuffs. He felt his heart fall into his stomach, his muscles tensing into near paralysis when he understood the situation.

Pike barely broke out of his trance in time to cast his own barrier spell that surrounded him and Thunder in pillars of red light before the druid struck again. Block was too far away fighting another druid for Pike to include him in the protective spell. With each blast the barrier weakened, the red light slowly fading from its vibrancy.

"They're surrounding us," Thunder warned from Pike's backside, observing the two additional druids who approached and summoned their own sets of ominously vibrant collars. "Can you teleport us out of here?" "Afraid not," Pike admitted with a terse sigh. "I'm low on chakra - I could probably teleport myself but taking someone else takes a lot of out me. Where's Rover?? Can't he come and grab us?"

"He was badly injured in the fight," he uttered. "I… don't know if he's okay."

"Cheese…" They were running out of options and his protective spell was wearing down fast. "You ready to fight the old fashioned way?"

"It's the only way I know, idiot."

"Oh, right." Pike summoned his lance again before the barrier dissipated, leaving the two of them vulnerable to the druid's attacks. Both of them lunged into the fight, blades fighting against the onslaught of cuffs curving relentlessly towards their necks.

Suddenly he heard Meklavar screaming his name from the rooftops.

And then pain was thrust against the left side of his neck, knocking him to the ground.

Pike hit the cobblestone with a gasp as the magic wrapped and sealed around his neck. He tried to pull himself up to his feet but the collar drained what little energy he had left. He could barely hear anything over the ringing in his ears but the nightmare was released from his neck temporarily and he felt like he was gasping for air after breaking the surface of the water he was drowning in.

Thunder was distracted by his comrade's pain and inevitably fell to the same fate. Block kept trying to break the collars but the druids were too many and too persistent. He could no longer help now that two druids were attacking him with elemental spells but the sorcerer continually tried to release the dark magic around his teammates' necks as he fought off his aggressors.

One of the druids conjured a swirling black portal upon the ground as Pike and Thunder struggled against the electrifying surges that left them depleted, gasping and groaning on their hands and knees. In a last attempt before the darkness swallowed them whole, Pike used all his energy to get Block's attention.

"Block!!" When Block's dark brown eyes met his terrified blues, Pike called out his final plea as one of the druids kicked Thunder into the obsidian portal. "Leave us! Please, protect her!"

Do what I can't…

Block's face fell, the horror of the situation setting his stomach into knots. As the druid's foot met Pike's shoulder, Block offered his friend a pained nod as promise before Pike was kicked into the void and swallowed into oblivion.

"I'm so sorry you guys…"

#pikelavar #pikelavar fic #plance #plance fic #voltron dnd au #voltron au #plance au #monsters and mana au #dnd au #vld fic #voltron fic #plance au fic #chapters #defenders of aurita

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wandering-exile · 6 years

Text

Breaking Point

(This is my take on the events that made Riven turn against Noxus, to exile herself and try to find redemption, as well as an introduction to it. It’s a bit long, and obviously it isn’t going to be pleasant, but I’m still glad I got it written out. Feel free to let me know what you think ^^) Riven had been woken up by the sound of splintering wood and a shout, a hand coming up to her head as she lay it back down, closing her eyes. She wanted to go back to sleep for a while longer, she knew Illaoi wouldn’t mind if she ignored this, but she herself would. She wanted to help, and this was one way that she could easily do so. With that in mind she finally sat back up, reaching back to rub at her neck as she yawned, getting up for the moment. A few minutes later would find her setting a set of planks beside the newly formed hole in the wall, made by Illaoi’s eye of god being thrown clean through, and with enough force that it wasn’t in sight anymore. She wouldn’t start helping to repair just yet. The entire reason the idol had been thrown was because something had been unlucky enough to wake the sleeping Truth Bearer. So instead she placed herself outside of the hole, thinking about where Illaoi’s bed was, how it lined up with the hole in the wall and where the eye may have landed. With a clear direction in mind she started forward, stepping into the brush surrounding Illaoi’s island home.

It wouldn’t take her long to find the idol only a short distance away. Its gold hues stood out against the vibrant greens, and she made a mental note of where it had landed. She was about to head back when a thought came to mind. This idol was rumored to be made of solid gold, and she was curious if she could even lift the thing. It wasn’t the first time that this curiosity had shown itself. Riven looked at the idol, debating if she should try to lift it. If she could, then she could simply carry it back to Illaoi’s hut for her. With her mind made up Riven approached the idol, kneeling down beside it and reaching out, wanting to test a bit and see if she could even make it budge. Her fingers brushed against the metal of the handle and she realized far too late how big of a mistake she had made. The world gained a haze over it, Riven could swear she could see a double image of herself...ethereal and green, but before she could get a good look at it or make any attempt to pull awy, her vision faded, her consciousness pulled through, and placed her into her own personal hell.

"You can't do this!" An irritated Noxian soldier slams her hands on the table in front of her, glaring at her commander. The three of them were alone in the tent, surrounding a table, one sitting and the others standing. "Sit. Down. Now, Dahlia." Liese stated, meeting her friend's blue gaze with her own red. "You have your orders and I have mine." Another soldier, a man with red hair cut short, steps over to her and puts a hand on her shoulder, "Dahlia, we all kno-" "Shut it, Caius!" The raven-haired woman turns her attention to him, slapping his hand away, "You know this is bullshit. We should be with her, not off to the side, out of the way!" "I don't like it any more than you do-" Caius agreed, chancing a glance over at their silver-haired commander before turning his attention back to her, "-But we have our orders. All we can do is follow them." "I get it." Dahlia reached to the table and picked up two helmets, shoving one into his chest and stomping away, "And save the lectures, Liese. I didn't join the military to be protected!" With that she left the tent and was gone, leaving the two alone. A heavy sigh could be heard from her, and Caius looked over to see Liese with her head in her hands, looking down at the map before her. She always did feel more at ease when the two of them were alone, able to properly express herself. "Why are you really doing this, Li?" "...I was told that a Zaunite chemist would be joining us." Liese said, "Someone high command is greatly interested in. He's testing something new...something powerful. I don't know what's going to happen." "So you want us out of the way." Liese said nothing for a long minute, finally speaking up again, "You know why I'm doing this...right?" "Can't say I do." "I made a promise to everyone back home...to all of our folks." Liese lifted her head to look at him, "That I would make sure you two got home safe." "But is that really your choice to make?" Caius asked her, "Look at it from our point. You're keeping us out of harms way. To Dahlia it looks like you don't have faith in us, in our ability...and I'm starting to agree." "Cai-" "We'll follow our orders, Liese. But after today we all need to sit down and talk. Not as commander to her subordinates, but as what we really are." Liese nodded to that. She knew it needed to happen. This was what she expected when she requested that the two of them be placed under her command, though the higher-ups didn't need to know their personal history. "Yeah...we'll talk later. Keep each other safe, okay?" Caius nodded, slipping his helmet on and making sure it was secure, "We always have." ***** Everything had gone so well until that point. The village was abandoned by its inhabitants. No sane person wanted to be so close to the fighting, not with the amount of collateral damage that had happened. Their plan had been simple; a large force moves through the center of the village while two smaller forces sweep through the surrounding buildings. The village wasn't the largest village she had seen by far, but it was large enough to catch Noxus' interest, and it helped to be thorough, to make sure that it was truly abandoned. She had thought that perhaps today there would be no bloodshed. That thought was quickly interrupted by a shout. "Commander!" Liese watched as one of the forward scouts came rushing toward her, the soldiers separating to give him a straight path to her, "Report." The scout was slightly out of breath, "Ionian troops, two hundred of them at least, on their way here from the north. They're coming fast." "Damn it.." She cursed under her breath. Why would they be coming here? Every report stated that the Ionians had abandoned this place. Still, now she was glad she had sent someone after all. "Something isn't right...archers! On the rooftops! I want every building in the center of town to have one. The rest line the center street!" The marksmen ran to obey as she turned her attention to the more heavily-geared, "Heavy shields to the front, pikes close behind! Messenger!" Two men in the lightest gear available approached her, "Get news to everyone else. They're to hold their positions for now. At the first sign of being overwhelmed, they're to rejoin the main host." "At once, Commander." With a salute, each man ran in opposing directions, and Liese prayed they would make it to everyone. The approaching force didn't make any attempt at stealth. She heard the first shouts from them as they approached the village. "Hold fast, men! Strength above all!" She reached over her shoulder and drew her runeblade, the symbol of her authority and dedication to that very ideal, the sigils along its surface lighting with arcane power. The cry echoed from one troop to the next as they watched the approaching Ionian's. Liese saw movement above them, and her head turned to one of the tallest buildings in the village, a storehouse of some kind by the look of it, and saw a figure perched at the top of it. Even from here she could make out details of him. He was clad in red and black armor, rags covering the lower half of his face beneath a crooked nose. Bottles hung from his waist and on his back rest a large shield. She had seen him once before. A man that looked like that was difficult to forget. 'Singed...so it was him we were meeting.' she thought. Why was he watching them? She brought her attention away from the madman. Something didn't feel right. These Ionian's weren't supposed to be here. This village was unimportant, far away from any strategic point. Why would command even send her and her force here in the first place? The first sound of metal against metal, the screams of soldiers fighting and dying. The Ionian language shouted at them, cursing their very existence as they're cut down by Noxian steel. Both forces now fought for this insignificant piece of land, Ionian's to defend their homeland and Noxians to take it. Liese took a step forward, toward the main host. She had always been a leader to fight beside her soldiers. In her eyes anyone who refused to be on the front lines with their men didn't deserve their position. Yet as she took that step another motion caught her attention, and she turned her gaze toward Singed once more. He had something in his hand now, standing to his full height as he looked down. She watched him slowly spread his arms out, and even above the fighting she heard it; the maniacal, cackling laughter as he pressed the button in his hand. Behind him, beyond the villages outer edge, appeared massive containers, launched through the air by unseen war machines, and Liese felt her heart sink as she realized that just as many were coming toward them as they were the Ionian's. "FALL BACK!" She shouted, "ALL FORCES, FALL BACK!" But it was too late. The largest of the casks impacted in the center of the battle, cries of surprise and pain were heard and she reached forward before she realized, as though she could save any of her troops. The same instant a sickly green mist flooded the area, released from its pressurized confines and flooding over the soldiers. The cries of agony from the first to be touched chilled her to her very core, the mist spreading quickly, far too quickly to be stopped. It reached her before she could stop it, enveloping her outstretched arm, and immediately her cries joined theirs. The wind whipped around her, forming tightly to her body, removing the mist and preventing more from touching her, but the damage had already been done. She scrambled to tear the armor free from her arm that now felt as though every nerve had been set aflame, eventually succeeding and revealing the scarred, angry red skin beneath. She clutched her arm to herself, gritting her teeth to keep her cries in. The screams of everyone around her were deafening, and all she could do was watch as everyone in the area began to fall, some clutching their throats, others convulsing on the ground, still more screaming in agony. Noxian and Ionian didn't matter anymore. Every soldier nearby had tried to run, to escape the mist. Every one had failed. 'Dahlia...Caius...!' She thought, reaching down for her runeblade and placing it on her back, looking around at the bodies of the fallen. And then she ran. She ran in the direction of her friends, knowing that she was leaving the afflicted behind to die. It had been all she could do to save herself...she couldn't help those who had been swallowed by the mists. Wherever she ran cleared itself, and the path she left was quickly swallowed by even more of the chemicals in the air, the fog growing thicker and thicker, and Liese saw even more of it pouring from within buildings she passed. Her heart sank as a realization dawned on her. This was all intended. Noxian and Ionian alike...all of them had been led here to die. "CAIUS! DAHLIA!" She shouted, calling out to the two who mattered most to her. The screams still rang in her ears, soldiers stumbling past her. She ran past a Noxian and Ionian, each trying to urge the other forward. Another Ionian had drawn their blade, turning it against themselves and lay dead, slumped against a building. "Liese..." She stopped as she heard her name, looking around quickly, her gaze quickly falling on the two of them, each leaning against opposite sides of an alleyway. "Hang on!" She said, rushing toward the two of them. She closed her eyes and concentrated, the wind surrounding her expanding, pushing away the poison around the three of them. A small space was all that she could manage, and she cursed her own inability for possibly the first time in her life. As soon as they opened again she could only stare in silent horror. The both of them were covered in the same marks that now scarred her arm, red veins of the toxin in the air seared into their skin. "Should have known you would make it..." Dahlia said through gritted teeth, clutching her side. Every breath she drew was ragged, labored, "Fuck it hurts...damn...cowards." "Hang on, I...I can save you, I can get you out of here!" Liese felt her eyes burning, stinging with tears that blurred her vision. "No...you can't." Caius said, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the wall behind him. His right arm hung uselessly beside him, its skin a sickly purple, and a fit of coughing left a trail of blood going down his jaw. "We all know its...it's useless." "Li..." Dahlia's voice got her attention, and as Liese looked toward her she felt as though her heart had stopped. Dahlia had drawn her knife, holding it by its blade and offering its handle to her. "Don't look at me like that...I'm a soldier, goddamnit. I ain't dying by any fuckin' chems." She took in a sharp breath, eyes squeezing shut as she tried to fight through a fresh wave of pain, gritting her teeth hard enough that Liese heard a tooth crack. "I get it. You wanted to protect us. I'm pissed...but I don't blame ya. I would do the same. Liese...listen." Her eyes opened again, her gaze almost pleading as she looked to her, "End it. I'd rather you do it than some fucking Zaunite." Liese knelt down beside her and reached a hand forward, her fingers wrapping around Dahlia's hand, holding it, "I can't..." "You can." Dahlia grunted in pain again, "This fucking hurts, Liese. And it'll keep hurting. Better it ends quick..." "She's right." Caius said, his breathing shallow, "Others died in seconds...us? Who knows. I don't want to find out..." Liese knew they were right. She knew them both well enough to know they couldn't do it themselves. "I'm sorry..." she whispered, "You two, I'm so...so sorry..." "Save it." Dahlia told her, "And let me be the first. Don't wanna hear Caius scream like a girl." She said with a short laugh that quickly turned into coughing. "Even on the deathbed..." Caius smiled a bit at it though, closing his eyes again as Liese let go of Dahlia's hand, fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife. "I love you both..." She said, looking down at Dahlia and watching her hand slip away from the blade. "I hope you know that..." "Idiot..." Dahlia closed her eyes, Liese bringing both hands to the handle and guiding it to the space between two plates of Dahlia's chestpiece. "...love you too." Liese looked down at the ground, her hands shaking as she struggled with what she had to do. A quick push and the leather and cloth beneath gave way. The blade sank in to the hilt, and Liese heard a sudden, strangled gasp, felt one heartbeat...two...and she was still. Her hands slipped from the blade, falling to her sides as she let out a sob. "Liese..." She heard her name and she slowly turned her gaze to him. Another knife, another silent plea. She crawled over to him, "Caius..." Caius looked up at her, "It's okay." he assured her, watching her take hold of the knife. "I'll join you both soon..." She whispered, hesitantly, shakily bringing the blade toward his chest. "Don't." Liese stopped, seeing his expression change, his better arm coming up to place his hand against hers, "Live. Keep going for us. You hear me? Dahlia would say the same thing." "But-" "Don't argue!" Caius ground out against another coughing fit, "For once...don't be so stubborn, and just do it, Liese...please...for our sake." Liese stared down at him for a long moment, her grip faltering on the blade. "I..." The sound of cackling filled the air, getting both of their attention. The same that heralded the beginning of this hell. "I will." She said, "I swear...I'll live, for all of us." A smile on Caius' lips as he looked up at her, and Liese took his hand in her injured one, ignoring the pain of it. She could bear this. She would bear this much and more. "Thank you." The blade slid into his chest, a grunt of pain, the tightening of his fingers around hers...and then they relaxed, his entire body limp and gone. Liese lowered his hand to his chest, and for the first time in her life...she felt alone. Her eyes closed, her tears no longer held back. Her hands balled into fists, every emotion she felt raging inside of her from all that had happened in what seemed like the blink of an eye. All of the turmoil, the sadness, the anger and the pain. She turned her face to the sky, and the loudest cry that echoed through the village was hers. ***** The commander looked out at the village under the darkness of the night, watching as fires raged, burning it and every corpse within to cinders. She had watched the Zaunite cleaners approach to burn off all of the chems. Her bandaged arm reached up to her chest, free of the armor that protected and restricted her before, and clutched at the cloth over her heart. The hilt and what remained of her blade, the very symbol of her devotion to Noxus, overloaded and shattered along the ground, was held in her other hand, the broken pieces packed in a bag to be buried where nobody could find them. Today had opened her eyes. To how little her country truly cared. To the lies they had all been told, the ones she had believed in her heart to be true. Noxus would surely count her among the dead, the bodies too scarred and disfigured to tell the difference even if one survived the flames. In a way they were right. A part of her felt like it had died that day. Part of Liese had died along with her friends in the village. Enough that the name felt wrong to her. She was broken, shattered...Riven. Yes. That name would do. Riven turned her back on the flames and took the first step of many on the long path to make things right.

#Riven #burdens of the past(memories)#IC #my stories

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pearwaldorf · 7 years

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A cataloging of how the new population of ravens interacts with particular residents and/or visitors in Whitestone

Percival de Rolo: They are friendly, flocking to him when he walks the battlements of the castle. They are also curious, as is their wont, watching as they perch on the scaffolds of the slowly rising clock tower. When he spends too long cooped up away in his workshop; one always somehow gets in and gives him a good peck, reminding him to go eat, sleep, and spend time with his wife and children.

Trinket: At first he pays them no mind. They aren't for eating, as Mama Vex tells him sternly (and he always does what she says), and they leave him alone. Eventually, one gets brave enough to venture close, and when he doesn't eat it or chase it away, it hops on his head. More join it: first another, then many. Despite Mama Vex’s best efforts, he still gets dirt and such in his fur. They seem to like rooting around in it, getting bugs and tangles out as he lays in the sun. One day, Mama Vex sees him and starts laughing. At his questioning noise, she produces a mirror. The ravens have groomed his fur into little tufts, sticking out in every direction.

Grog Strongjaw: The Grand Poobah takes his duties very seriously, and gives his tour of Whitestone to anybody who wants it. The ravens aren't part of the tour at the beginning, but it starts to get weird not to point them out. When he talks about the presence of the ravens and how they came to be, they land on his shoulders. (It’s a very impressive effect.) Occasionally they pull at his beard. It makes him remember the prank wars, and how much he wishes they could still have them.

Velora Vessar: They warble softly at her, perching on her knees when she goes to the Raven Queen’s temple or the little bench out in the woods. She plaits their feathers next to the owlbear one she’s taken to wearing, mirroring her sister. Sometimes, when she has Simon wrapped around her wrist, they touch, beak to little snake nose.

Cassandra de Rolo: They only ever approach her when she's alone, practicing or taking a walk after a bad night. At the training grounds, they watch her hone her skills, emitting croaks that she swears are commentary. When she can’t sleep, they accompany her as she paces on the little balcony outside her bedroom. Sometimes she talks to them. They never respond (that would be silly), but she does get the sense they are listening, and that is enough.

Shaun Gilmore: They sit on the eaves of his little cottage and preen, calling at him until he responds. He tells them how beautiful they are, the way the sun glistens against their feathers, almost iridescent at the right vantage. When he locks up to go back to Emon, he blows them a kiss and waves, promising to return.

Pike Trickfoot: They love her hair. She lets it grow even longer now, a river of pale white over her back. Sometimes they perch on her shoulders, playing hide and seek through her tresses. Once, a group of them plaited her hair into two braids, the way you'd do it to put up fun buns. She cried a little when she pinned them up, but they were fond tears, and only a little bit sad.

Scanlan Shorthalt: Sometimes, they poop on him. Usually when he's in a bit of a funk. It's enough to make him laugh before he goes off to change his clothes.

Vex’ahlia de Rolo: There’s always one near her, and for a while her breath caught in her throat every time she saw them, a mocking reminder of what she’s lost. Once she was crying in bed, and one landed on the pillow next to her. She didn’t have the heart to chase it away, and it crooned gently at her, stroking her hair with its beak. It was not the same as getting her hair brushed out and rebraided, but enough so that it was comforting. She comes to a tentative detente with the birds after that, and they claim a large tree near her estate as their roost.

The first pregnancy is difficult, and she is bedridden for a time. They bring her little bits of the outside: twigs, berries, flowers. She thanks them and puts their gifts in her hair. When baby Elaina is old enough to sit up on her own, they play with her, venturing close enough to touch and moving away, enjoying her noises of delight. Vex watches this, surrounded by her family, and finds that her heart is lightened.

#critical role #critfic #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #long post for ts #i wrote a thing #things i researched:#do bears understand mirrors #(they do)#many raven sounds #also did you know ravens probably mate for life

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taylorowelch · 7 years

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8/15 - 8/19 Mile 2292.4 - 2390.6 - 98.2 miles

I woke up at 7 or so, thankful for the thick motel curtains that blocked the sun, letting me sleep. I looked at the mountain of my gear piled up in the corner next to the mini fridge. I decided I had better get up and get moving. I cut my hair in the motel bathroom. I love cutting my own hair. I downloaded the last things I needed to on the motel wifi, put on my still-damp clothes, ate the rest of my strawberries I had bought at the grocery store, and went to get a coffee. The mountain air was chilly. I put my socks in the sun on top of my pack to dry in front of the coffee shop porch. I sat on the porch and drank my coffee and met some other hikers who were hanging around. We headed back to the trail at about 11. I saw nine horses on trail today. The last time I saw horses on trail was before I hit the 100 mile mark, way back around Mt. Laguna, California. The trail wound through a new section of wilderness, still in the Wenatchee National Forest. By four in the afternoon shards of sunlight were scattered across the trail. Light shone down on leaves of the lush Washington greenery. The sharp smell of spruce was heavy in the air. I passed lake after glimmering lake. I listened to podcasts, a quote in one of them catching my ear, “the experience of being alive is being thrown out of the nest over and over and over until you die.” I couldn’t hear who it was who originally said this. I thought about the way I perceive joy now, about how much easier it is to create, to find. I reflected on how much more adaptable I’ve become, about how even though there are parts of a stable life I miss sometimes, I am thriving in this transience. I thought about what it meant to be secure in life, about what it meant to be happy, about how happiness and stability aren’t always one in the same. I thought about things people or society expected of me, or even things I perceived they expected of me. I thought about how much I used to stress out about that, about the possibility of falling short of those expectations. I decided I’ve already lost too much sleep about that and started listening to an audiobook, Chelsea Girls by Eileen Miles. I hiked for another while, stopping at a lake to filter water. I got to camp around 5:30, which felt so early after hiking long mile days. I was glad to hike only 12 miles today. I made taco rice and drank an Emergen-C, listened to the creek gurgling behind me as I looked out onto a meadow, tall spruce rising from its edges. I awoke to a chill in the air. The breeze off the creek was cold. I did as much in my tent as I could, packing up quickly and hiking fast to try and stay warm. I saw more animals today than any other day on trail. In total, I saw: a boston terrier (wearing a pink fuzzy jacket), a golden retriever, two black labs, a rottweiler, a jack russell terrier, a pika, a duck, many many marmots, probably twenty chipmunks and a garter snake. The morning was chilly for quite some time. I passed a sun drenched wetland with tall green grass, mountains of green spruce in the distance. I passed a giant blue lake, and stopped to eat lunch. I laid out my tyvek and ate too much peanut butter wrapped up in a tortilla. I laid around in the sun like a snake. I packed up and climbed for a couple of hours until Mt. Rainier appeared. It’s so big it almost looks fake, like someone hung a photo of it against the sky. It’s blinding white was difficult to look at for too long. The afternoon soon became windy as dark clouds bounded across the sky. I hiked quickly again, trying to keep warm. I reached a pass, continued over to the other side of a mountain, descended two switchbacks and heard Dustin yelling at me. “LOOK TO YOUR LEFT, IT’S A WOLVERINE.” I saw only marmots. “What? Those are marmots?” Dustin insisted there was a giant wolverine very close to me. I waited for him to catch up. “Oh. I guess they looked a lot bigger from up there.” We laughed. We watched the marmots sitting on rocks. We wished we could be so lazy. A pike darted around carrying some leaves from one pile of rocks to another. The marmots whistled like they do. We hiked through wildflower-smattered green hillsides until we got to camp. The wind was chillier still and we ate quickly, getting into our tents as soon as we were done. As the days grow colder my hiker hunger becomes a dangerous force. I eat dinner and an hour later it feels like someone has thrown a giant scary lever that opens up some kind of second stomach I didn’t know I had. The emptiness of it is irritating as I try to sleep. Every time I take something from my food bag I look longingly at all the food, wishing I could eat it all in one sitting and bask in the fullness of my growing incinerator-of-a-stomach. The morning was damp. Water pooled in my rain fly, under my sleeping pad. We were in a cloud and there was little actual rain, just constant condensation hanging onto trees and shrubs. I listened to the news as I walked, everything still talked about Charlottesville. It hung heavy in my mind for the fifth-or-so day now. I felt like I should have been there, I saw countless posts from friends who were traumatized by the event, but I was proud of them for going and for standing up to such a disgusting show of outright white supremacy. Many people on the trail are politically apathetic, or they are privileged enough to ignore politics. I feel too much community and societal responsibility to be politically silent or apathetic. I sat at a spring and wrote a letter of thanks to my eleventh grade U.S. History teacher who required that we read A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn. It taught me how much power history has, that especially regarding who records history and how they view it. Zinn’s account disputes many common historical narratives that are recorded in textbooks. It gave me a political cornerstone to build from, it taught me to question who records which side of what story in the regards of history and modern events, and it gave me a new idea of my place in the world, and the United States, as a privileged white person. I hiked and I watched thin clouds blow through a deep valley, like steam from a hot shower moving through a bathroom. I rounded a corner, Mt. Rainier on my left, a wildfire burning in the distance. I thought about the eventuality of things, about the selling off of public lands for private interest, the wildfires and the climate change behind them, fracking, pipelines, big money, losing my health insurance, the constant struggle all of it. My mom told me she was pregnant with me while she watched the Rodney King riots in LA on TV. She said she remembered thinking “How could I bring a child into this world?” Maybe in the womb I could read her mind. Maybe that’s why I feel compelled to try and do something about anything. I looked at water flowing from a spring and wondered how much longer will it be safe to drink? I felt like I was late all day even though I had nowhere to be. At lunch I laid out all my things to dry on shrubs near a spring. Dustin gave me half a pink lady apple that someone gave him as trail magic yesterday. It was so cold and crisp and clean-tasting. A blister filled with blood nagged at the back of my heel all day. I put duct tape over it and it only got worse. I listened to podcasts and tried to forget about it. The location of it made climbing painful and it took me a little extra time to get to camp. As soon as I got there I popped it. I thought about how I would soak my feet in Snoqualmie in a couple of day, how nice it would feel to have a clean blister. I made rice for dinner and drank electrolyte water in the chilly evening. It really felt like fall here. The sky was all blue and bright and there was that fall feeling in the air, like instead of that fuzzy summer air this air had an edge to it, and that edge was hard and cold and fresh. Wispy clouds glided around way up in the sky. We were camped in a tiny meadow next to a spring surrounded by lots of spruce trees. As soon as I was done brushing my teeth I got into my sleeping bag to hide from the chill. I woke up and felt lazy. I ate breakfast in my sleeping bag. I eventually got going, put super glue on my bloody blister and cranked out some miles before lunch through dense forest. The trees were all thick, their roots covered in moss like a little skirt. Mushrooms grew large on their trunks after all the rain. We ate lunch at a spring and then climbed for a long time, the canopy breaking occasionally as we crossed open hillsides or walked along bits of ridge. When I got to camp a southbound hiker was already there and he was really nice. He wore a polyester Hawaiian shirt and a purple hat. I asked him about places he had already been and he asked the same of me. We talked while I set up my tent and made dinner. By the time I finished eating it was nearly eight. I rushed to get into my sleeping clothes and go to bed so I could get all the sleep I wanted. The morning was cold again. I ate a pop tart, drank instant coffee and started hiking. I felt a little burnt out but town helped to motivate me to hike the 17 miles there. I walked down the road to the Chevron where my package was. Other hikers sat outside drinking coffee and soda and going through their boxes. I dropped my pack and walked through an isle of auto products to a freezer that was turned off. A sign written in sharpie was taped to the door. It read “PCT BOXES”. I picked up my box and went to the bathroom. Just outside the bathroom were probably 100 PO Boxes. I remembered reading something about this Chevron being the post office for this tiny ski town. I got a burger from a food cart outside. The owner was really nice and helped us find a place to sleep since the inn was full. I did some chores in exchange for my stay at a place nearby. It was really nice. I took a shower and scrubbed all of the grime off my scalp. I felt the water run over my freshly uncovered skin, so stark and new and stinging. I scrubbed the dirt from my legs, between my toes, washed my face until it was bare and squeaky and shining. I whisked back the shower curtain and watched the steam from the hot water hanging thick in the air. I thought about how nice it was to have warm steam instead of the cold, damp, Washingtonian notion of standing in a cloud for six hours a day. I dried off with my gross shirt. I got my other filthy clothes. I washed them with hand soap in the bathroom sink. The water was murky dirt colored. I wrang and agitated and drained and rinsed. The water never ran clear. I stopped after a while, hung up the clothes and drank a beer outside with another hiker. We laughed about our poor social skills, the way microfiber attracts offensive odor more than any other fabric, the hilarity of our bubbled and ridiculous existence. We couldn’t decide if we felt more nature or more human. We decided that question meant it was time to go to sleep.

#pct

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