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gladdyator18 · 2 years

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Sisterhood - TickleTober2022 Day 4 (Games)

This is the first fic for my personal story The Apex Guardians! Also, this fic is inspired by this wonderful fic right here, written by my good friend @giggly-squiggily! I’m also doing a collab with her for this fic and more to come, so stay tuned and enjoy!

Summary: Galilea and the other Apex Guardians were given a few days off work as a reward for their hard work. When Galilea surprised her little sister, Aria, the sisters knew exactly how to pass the time.

Word Count: 2384

"You guys are given the next few days off," Renée said, "Use this time wisely and enjoy yourselves."

The Apex Guardians stared blankly at their superior in shock. Renée had called the Apex Guardians for an important announcement. They were not expecting this at all.

"Wait. Are you serious?" Andy asked.

"Did she stutter?" Ray asked with a calm yet threatening look on his face.

Standing beside the Apex Corp. leader were her trusty Elites. Renée quirked a brow at Ray, and the young magic-bearer shut up.

"Yes, I am serious," Renée said with a grin, "You eight have been doing such an incredible job maintaining the peace within Chromia City. As a reward for your good deeds, take the next few days off."

"Have your comms always on and comm channels open," Raziel said, "You never know what kind of trouble could stir."

After Renée dismissed the Apex Guardians, the group of eight walked towards the exit, discussing their plans.

"Acheron and I were gonna head home," Emmerell said, hugging her brother's arm, "It's been a while since we've been with Dad."

The golden-colored Feral smirked and nodded to his sister.

"Nish and I are gonna hit the town," Andy said, slinging an arm around Nishan, "Landon, wanna join us?"

"No, thank you," Landon said, "I'm going to follow Em and Acheron. I want to visit my parents after so long."

"Same," Erzaraph said, "Laura wanted to check out my father's old military base, so we were going to head over there now."

"What about you, Galilea?" Laura asked, "What are you doing during your break?"

Glancing at her friends, Galilea grinned.

"I'm going home to my sister!" she said.

After buying some groceries for her mother, Galilea started walking home. The young woman sent word about her arrival to her mother, but not her sister; she wanted to surprise her. Aria is the only one who knows that her older sister is an Apex Corp. officer; her mother, Ylisse, believes she is coming home from college.

"I cannot wait to see her face when she sees me." Galilea said to herself.

When Galilea arrived home, she unlocked the door and smiled when she saw her mother in the kitchen. Galilea placed the groceries on the marble island and kissed the woman on the cheek from behind. The woman looked over her shoulder and smiled at her oldest daughter.

"She's up in her room." Ylisse said.

Nodding to her mother, Galilea walked up the creaky, wooden stairs and stopped in front of Aria's room. Turning the knob, the smell of strawberries filled the air. Looking ahead, Galilea saw Aria sitting at her desk, reading a book, still wearing her school uniform. Fortunately for the Apex Guardian, her younger sister was wearing headphones. Galilea grinned as she stalked her sister, inching closer and closer. When she was behind her, Galilea removed the purple headphones and placed a kiss on her sister's cheek.

"Mom!" Aria chuckled, "You could've called me if dinner was ready, you know."

"Yeah, but how would you have heard Mom if you had these on?" Galilea asked, referring to the headphones.

Aria's eyes widened as she whipped her head around.

"You didn't even hear me walk into your room." Galilea smiled, placing the headphones down.

"LEA!" Aria cried happily, leaping into her sister's arms.

Galilea laughed as she twirled her sister around, purposely landing on the purple-sheeted bed.

"Oh, my God! I can't believe you're home!" Aria cried happily, "Mom didn't say anything about you coming home!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" Galilea said, "You know how much I love to make an entrance."

Aria giggled before hugging her sister tightly; Galilea happily returned the gesture.

"So, are you just coming home to visit?" Aria asked, sitting on her knees beside her sister.

"Yeah, pretty much," Galilea said, sitting up, "Lady Renée gave me the next few days off, so-"

"The next few days!? Lea, that's amazing!"

Aria interrupted Galilea's sentence with another hug, almost knocking her over.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Aria whined.

"I already told you; I wanted to surprise you." Galilea chuckled.

The little girl puffed out her cheeks and turned away from her sister with arms crossed.

"Come on, Ari," Galilea said, "It's not that bad. I'm here now, aren't I?"

Aria glanced at her older sister before looking away with a scoff. Galilea rolled her eyes at her bratty, thirteen-year-old sister. Then, an idea popped into the Apex Corp. officer's mind. The young woman couldn't hide the sly smirk from appearing on her face.

"Say, Aria," Galilea began, "Do you remember the game we used to play whenever you were in a foul mood?"

The young girl didn't answer, impressing the Apex Guardian with her stubbornness. Galilea only smiled as she positioned herself behind her little sister.

"Fine, fine. I get it," Galilea said, "If you don't want to talk to me, the least you can do is... laugh for me."

Aria didn't get a chance to question her sister's statement. The young girl then felt a pair of hands grab her and pull her backward. Galilea adjusted her position so that her legs locked Aria's arms above her head. Aria looked up at her sister with confused and fear-filled eyes.

"Uh, L-Lea...?" Aria questioned, "W-What are you doing?"

"Wow, you really need to get your hearing checked out," Galilea joked, "I asked if you remembered the game we used to play whenever you were in a foul mood?"

Aria's eyes widened, and she started squirming around in what little space she said.

"Nu-uh. You wanted to be a little brat, so we're going to play Try Not to Laugh," Galilea said, "God, I remember all the times you tried to hold it in, but you always lost in the end."

"Galilea, please!" Aria said, "I-I'm sorry, okay?"

Galilea chuckled before leaning over, having the tip of her nose touch Aria's nose.

"Oh, honey," Galilea said, "I don't want to hear an apology; I want to hear your laughter!"

With that, Galilea started skittering her fingers all over Aria's vulnerable sides. Aria squeaked before giggling like mad.

"Galileahahahaha!" Aria giggled out, "Nohohoho! Stohohohop ihihihit, plehehease!"

"Stop? We've only just begun!" Galilea said, "As an Apex Guardian, I must take down any bratty little sisters who may use their brattiness for evil!"

"Oh, my Gohohohod, you're sohoho cornyhyhyhyhyhy!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Galilea then moved her hands towards Aria's armpits, causing the young girl to buck.

"Nahahaha! I take it back; I take it bahahahack!" Aria giggled.

Galilea giggled as she shook her head fondly.

"Seems to me history is repeating itself," Galilea said, "You're not supposed to laugh, remember?"

Aria squealed before shutting her mouth, but her sister's fingers creeping toward her armpits was making this very difficult not to laugh. Galilea smirked and started poking her index fingers into her sister's armpits, the thin, white school uniform fabric doing nothing to protect the young girl.

"L-Leahaha! T-This isn't f-fahahair!" Aria said, giggles slipping out.

"Was that a giggle I heard, Ari?" Galilea asked, "You know what happens if you lose, right~?"

Aria flinched when she felt her sister's breath brush against her ear. Galilea started vibrating her hands on Aria's ribs, causing the girl to squeal.

"Nohoho! Don't do thahahahahahat!" Aria giggled.

"Oh, dear! Looks like someone couldn't hold back their laughter!" Galilea said, "You know what that means~!"

"Leahahaha! Plehehehehase! I'm sohohohorryhyhyhyhy!"

Galilea stopped before looking down at her sister with mischief twinkling in her eyes. Aria nervously giggled as she shook her head.

"Galilea, plehehease!" Aria giggled, the suspense making it worse, "You win, okahahahay?"

"I know, I won," Galilea said, "But I still have to give you the loser's penalty~!"

Aria's nervous giggles turned into nervous laughter as her sister lifted her uniform blouse.

"Leahahahaaaa!" Aria whined.

Galilea grinned before placing a massive raspberry on her little sister's stomach. Aria literally screamed out her laughter as she thrashed around in her sister's iron grip.

"LEAHAHAHAHAHAAA! NOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!" Aria laughed, "PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOP!"

"As if," Galilea said between raspberries, "I haven't seen your smile in months! I need more of it! More! More!"

Galilea scattered her raspberries across her sister's midsection; sides, ribs, belly, and belly button. Aria was in hysterics.

"STOP, STOP, STAHAHAHAHAAAP!" Aria laughed, "IT'S TOO MUHUHUHUHUCH!"

Galilea laughed along with her little sister, happily taking in her laughter and smile. Galilea had truly missed Aria. They would facetime every night, but nothing compares to this moment right now.

"L-LEAHAHAHAAAA! STAHAHAAAAA!" Aria wheezed.

Galilea placed another raspberry on her sister before sitting back. Aria panted as she stared up at her sister's brown eyes.

"You're... evil..." Aria panted.

Galilea chuckled and placed a kiss on her sister's forehead.

"I know," she said, releasing her little sister, "All the perks of being a big sister."

Aria sat up on her knees, trying to steady her breathing. Once she caught her breath, she glanced at her older sister and smirked.

"Well, I think it's high time you played Try Not to Laugh, Lea." Aria said.

The Apex Guardian glanced at her sister and grinned. She then laid across the bed and locked her fingers behind her head.

"Go ahead," Galilea said, "I'm not ticklish anymore. Guardian training, remember?"

Aria straddled her sister and the two locked eyes with one another.

"We'll see about that." Aria said.

When Aria stared at her sister's stomach, she noticed how fit Galilea had become. Her abs were almost visible through her uniform. Now Aria was uncertain if she'll be able to get Galilea back. Galilea saw her sister's uncertainty and smirked.

"What's wrong, Ari?" she asked, "Uncertain?"

"S-Shut up!" Aria cried, scribbling her sister's sides.

Galilea tensed her muscles but still kept her poker face.

"Sorry, sis," Galilea said, "Looks like I won this Try Not to Laugh game."

Aria groaned in frustration, placing her hands on her sister's thighs. Galilea inhaled sharply and flinched hard at the touch. Aria glanced at her older sister and an impish-like grin.

"Ari? What's with that look?" Galilea asked, shifting uncomfortably under her sister's intense gaze.

Aria giggled before kneading her sister's inner thighs. Galilea pursed her lips together to stop herself from laughing, but that didn't stop her legs from kicking out behind Aria.

"Ha! I knew it! You are still ticklish!" Aria proclaimed.

"N-No, I'm nohohot!" Galilea countered, letting a giggle slip.

"Oh, really~? Then, why are you trying so hard not to laugh even though you said you weren't ticklish anymore~? You weren't lying to little sister, were you? You know what happens when one sister lies to the other, right~?"

Galilea removed her hands from behind her head and covered her mouth instead.

"They get tickled!" Aria proclaimed, moving her hands to Galilea's hips.

Galilea squealed and bucked, causing her to turn into a puddle of giggles.

"Ariahahahaha! Quit ihihihihit!" Galilea giggled out, "Enohohohohough!"

"No way! You lied, saying you weren't ticklish anymore because of your guardian training," Aria said, "But here you are, laughing off that pretty little head of yours!"

"When did Aria get so sassy?" Galilea wondered.

Galilea reached over and tried to swat away her sister's hands, but they kept coming back.

"Aria! Come ohohohon!" Galilea cried, "Stohohop it!"

"Nu-uh! I'm gonna find your tickle spot if it's the last thing I do!" Aria proclaimed.

"Good luhuhuck! I don't have ohohohone!"

"Again, with the lying? Seriously, how are you even an Apex Guardian if you aren't honest, Lea?"

Galilea tried to answer, but instead of a protest, it was another wave of giggles.

"Oh, my Gahahahahad! Stahahahaaap!" Galilea cackled.

"Not gonna happen, sis!" Aria said, moving her hands back to her sister's thighs.

Galilea kicked out and let out a loud laugh.

"OKAY, OKAHAHAHAHAAAAY! PLEHEHEHEASE STOP!" Galilea laughed.

"So this is your worst spot, huh?" Aria questioned, "Now that I found it, I'm not gonna stop until you apologize,"

"FOR WHAHAHAHAHAHAT!?"

"One, for not calling me to tell me you were coming home; two, for lying about not being ticklish anymore; and three, for lying about not having a tickle spot!"

"Oh, my God, my sister's gonna kill me!" Galilea panicked.

Galilea tried pushing her sister off her, but her boisterous laughter made it difficult.

"ARIA, PLEHEHEHEASE!" Galilea laughed, "NO MOHOHOHOHORE!"

"Apologize, and I may consider stopping," Aria said.

"MY GAHAHAHAD! YOU'RE SO ANNOYIHIHIHIHING!"

"Excuse me?"

Aria moved one of her hands to claw her sister's ribs, and Galilea squealed.

"AHHHAHAHAAAAA! OKAHAHAHAHAY, OKAY! YOU WIHIHIHIHIN!" Galilea said, "I'M SOHOHOHORRY!"

"Mmm, you're gonna have to be specific, sis," Aria said, "I don't know what you're apologizing for."

"OH, YOU SUHUHUHUCK!"

Aria furrowed her brows and started drilling her fingers into her sister's thighs and ribs. Galilea's laughter went silent for a minute before it became more vocal.

"OKAHAHAAAAAY! GIVE ME A CHAHAHAHAHANCE!" Galilea wheezed.

Aria considered this and slowed up on her tickling, but not stopping, only leaving her sister in breathless giggles.

"I'm sohohorry for not callihihing, Ihihihi'm sorry for lyhyhying about nohohot being tihihihicklihihihish," Galilea giggled, "And I'm sorryhyhyhyhy for lying about not hahahahaving a tickle spohohot! Now, plehehehase stohohop!"

Aria smiled and stopped the tickling completely. Galilea panted heavily while her little sister smirked down at her.

"You... are so wrong for doing that..." Galilea panted.

"Hey, you did it to me first." Aria commented.

"...Fair point..."

Galilea sat up with Aria still sitting in her lap.

"God, I missed you." Galilea said, pulling her sister into a hug.

"I missed you, too, Lea." Aria said, melting into her sister's embrace.

Galilea sighed before kissing her sister's forehead.

"Can you bring me to Apex Corp. one day?" Aria suddenly asked, "Please~?"

Galilea chuckled and placed her forehead on her sister's.

"I'll think about it," she said, "I have to ask my superiors if it's okay. I don't want to bring you then go out on a mission after and leave you alone,"

"Well, that's okay! I'll fight alongside you!" Aria said boldly.

"Not a chance, Ari!"

The two sisters laughed before laying down on the soft bed, Galilea holding her sister close to her chest.

"Sisters forever?" Aria asked, looking up at Galilea.

Galilea smirked and kissed her sister on her brown hair.

"Sisters," she said, "Forever and ever..."

#gladdy writes #tickle fic #tickletober2022

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sarah-aliterarylife · 1 year

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An Abundance of Katherines by John Green

Breaking up is hard to do, or so the song goes. I’ve never been very good at letting go of things that no longer make me happy, or things that never made me happy in the first place. I remained in a job that did immense damage to my mental health for 8 years, when I really should have left after 5. I stayed with a man I did not love for over 3 years. I have restricted my diet, and exercised to the point that I injured myself, because I thought that being slimmer would make me happy. As humans, we’re conditioned to stick things out, keep trying, persevere, even if that serves no other purpose than to make us unhappy. The same applies to the books in my life. The amount of times I’ve started a book and found it dull, uninspiring, or just downright awful, but couldn’t bring myself to put it down and read something else instead, amazes me. Why do we do this to ourselves? Are we so afraid of failure, or the sense of disappointment that comes with accepting that something just isn’t for us? Perhaps I commit to things too easily.

Once I’m in, I’m in, and I find it very difficult to remove myself emotionally. No matter how bad a book is or how little I connect to the narrative, a part of me has to see it through to the end. Perhaps I’m subconsciously hoping that it will get better, or that the ending will blow me away. An Abundance of Katherines by John Green is one such example of this. I am aware that the concept of a “bad” book is a very subjective one, and that John Green has millions of fans around the world who probably think that An Abundance of Katherines is a masterpiece. That’s ok, but I am not one of them. I thought it was dreadful. I chose An Abundance of Katherines because I had enjoyed two of John Green’s other novels, The Fault In Our Stars and Paper Towns (more on those in future instalments). It’s a novel that is aimed at a young adult audience. Yes, I hear you ask, why is a woman who is most certainly not a young adult reading books meant for teenagers? What did she expect? The truth is that there are some marvellous young adult novels whose reach extends far beyond their target audience. I think I hoped that this book would be the same. The novel tells the story of a teenage prodigy called Colin Singleton, whom you could say has a “type”. His “type” in this instance is girls named Katherine. Colin has dated 19 of them, to be exact. And every time he dates a girl called Katherine, she breaks up with him. Over 297 pages, Colin and his Judge-Judy loving best friend Hassan take a road trip (minus any Katherines) and attempt to solve The Theorem of Underlying Katherine Predictability – Colin’s words, not mine. They also try to avoid a bloodthirsty feral hog, and avenge everyone who has ever been dumped. Some hijinks involving a dead Austrian archduke and a moral about reinventing oneself ensue. Reviews of An Abundance of Katherines were largely positive. The Guardian describes it as “brilliant, quirky and fantastically nerdy”. I do not agree with this. Don’t get me wrong, I love a quirky narrative and fun characters who are somewhat left of centre, like Colin and his friend Hassan. But I found Colin to be a whiny, irritating sap. As a main character and a leading man, he is awful. No self respecting teenage girl (let alone 19 of them!) would ever date him. The constant use of anagrams drove me mad. The made-up words (fug? Jewfro?) got on my nerves. The Katherines themselves were unlikeable.

Most importantly, huge swaths of the novel were incredibly boring. I kept waiting for an interesting plot twist, or for one of the characters to do something unexpected, but nothing happened. The narrative proceeded exactly as I suspected it would. It was dreadfully dull in parts. I found it so mind-numbingly dull that I actually found excuses not to read it – I did our laundry, I cleared out the wardrobes, I baked a cake, I even went walking on Cannock Chase alone (!) as I was so desperate to have something else to do. I also wasn’t certain as a reader who the book was aimed at. The book contains many obscure references and footnotes that I suspected a young adult audience would not understand. If I had read it when I was a teenager, I don’t think I would have understood half of those references. Perhaps John Green is aware that, due to the success of his other novels, his audience has widened to include adults as well? And yet, I stuck with An Abundance of Katherines all the way to the end. Why did I do this? Perhaps I identified with Colin. I have been told in the past that I too have a “type” - the difference between me and Colin being that I haven’t dated 19 of them! The simplest and most likely answer is, I hate not to finish a book. I enjoy the sense of achievement that comes with completing a novel and starting afresh with a new one, like a new chapter in my life. For me not to finish a book, it must be truly terrible or (and this is very important) it must have the ability to send me to sleep on more than one occasion. Admittedly I came pretty close with An Abundance of Katherines, but it was summertime, the nights were long, the weather was warm, and it was only 297 pages long. I think a part of me must have thought, what the hell? Let’s finish it and move onto something else. Quickly. I have the greatest respect for John Green as a young adult novelist. I thoroughly enjoyed my previous forays into his work, and the fact that he has played such a key role in getting young adults interested in reading, and covers sensitive subjects such as mental health and terminal cancer so effectively, is to be celebrated. But this book really wasn’t my cup of tea. Perhaps next time I will share with you a list of the books I couldn’t finish! (It will be quite short)

#book blogs #books and literature #bad books #literature

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codenamed-queenie · 4 years

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#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched.

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire.

So. Quarantine it is.

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick -

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days.

Then he started to get twitchy.

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.”

“Dick, no.”

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t.

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass.

Desperate for news of the outside.

He thrives off of it like a starving man.

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after.

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason -

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking.

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results.

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it.

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up.

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done.

Barbara -

Self-quarantined with her dad.

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive.

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs.

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together.

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles.

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony.

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window.

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background.

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute.

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen.

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe.

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned.

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim.

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being.

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out.

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it.

Cass -

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate.

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed.

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far.

But no one knows for sure.

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel.

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later.

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic.

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day.

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’ mostly.

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost.

Steph -

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first.

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down.

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable.

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving.

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks.

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s.

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic.

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian -

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house.

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine.

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds.

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion.

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time.

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are.

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time.

Only that he is Out There.

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had.

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies.

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat.

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts.

Duke -

Did not leave the attic for two weeks.

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement.

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement.

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement.

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa.

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally.

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others.

Duke has seen these people under pressure.

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

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princesssarcastia · 3 years

Text

2021 Harry Potter Fanfic Primer

im here to point fingers at the incredible authors that have enabled my new interest in HP content. im still conflicted and upset about it, tbh, but for now we’re leaning into the curve. we’re getting out our shovel and finding out just how deep we can make the hole we’re in. hand in unlovable hand my beloved <3. anyway, these fics are wonderful, their authors are wonderful, and you should go read their stuff. if there’s a star next to it that means im losing my mind over it and always will be.

Creatively Maladjusted, by elumish on AO3, 101k (they also have a wonderful writing advice blog on tumblr, @elumish, which I recommend following if you are a writer)

A very excellent re-telling of harry’s first year at hogwarts if he were sorted into Slytherin, plus some more not!fic or piecemeal re-tellings of his second and part of his third year. Harry, in this, has a slightly different trauma response to growing up with the Dursley’s. He’s a bit quieter, and the signs are a bit more obvious to the people around him, and I enjoyed that immensely.

Honestly, if you’re going to get sucked into something you have absolutely no business getting sucked into, elumish is the way to go, their fic is incredible. their teen wolf fic is also immaculate, if you’re so inclined.

Dissonance, by ImpishTubist on AO3, 2.5k (@impishtubist on tumblr)

Set during fifth year. Oblivious!Harry has always been a delightful trope when well executed, and this is well executed. Plus, some angst between Remus and Harry over what Umbridge has been doing to him.

I would certainly recommend a lot of ImpishTubist’s other hp work on AO3, like Lacuna.

blow us all away, by rexcorvidae on AO3, 23k (@rexcorvidae on tumblr)

In progress (like, updated last week in progress). Currently in the beginning of Harry’s first year. Fem!Harry, Indian!Harry. Hagrid puts Harry in touch with Remus when she has questions about her parents, and they become reluctant, traumatized, angst-ridden pen pals who keep missing each other’s true intentions like ships in the night. hot DAMN do I love this fic. there’s hints of the way the dursley’s treat Harry peaking through in her letters, and I appreciated the attention to “hmm, her experience as a girl of indian descent in britain under the thumb of a bunch of white people who like being Normal may not have been gucci”

Definitely comb through the rest of their HP fic, too, I may or may not have gone feral over it.

Where the Heart is, by silver_fish on AO3, 15k (@kohakhearts on tumblr)

Woof. This one said, “hey, harry was probably SUPER depressed in the summer after fifth year. like, clinically. maybe someone should do something about that.” Fuck yeah. Then this one said, “that someone was Snape.” You all know my opinions on Snape; generally, Bad. But damn if this fic didn’t wholly convince me by the end of it. I thought it was a very realistic way for Snape to start seeing Harry as a person all on his own, and not a proxy for Snape’s angst over James and Lily, respectively. The angst is wonderful, the ending is even more so.

*bernie sanders voice* I am once again asking you to read through the rest of the author’s HP fic. a lot of them have similar themes; there’s actually a great one with Molly that i’m not reccing here, Wonder.

☆Bindings, Bindings, by Quietlemonhush on AO3, 60k (@quietlemonhush on tumblr)

WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS TO YOU HOW MUCH I ENJOYED/AM ENJOYING THIS. If I had to pick a single fic and say “you, it’s your fault I’m stuck here,” it would be this one. Anyway Lily in the afterlife is So Very Angry about how Petunia is treating Harry, and how Sirius is rotting in Azkaban, and how Remus is alone, that she literally brings herself back to life and drags James and Regulus with her. All three of them are there to chew bubblegum and fix everything that went wrong after they died—and would you look at that, they’re all out of bubblegum! There’s only Fury left. That inciting premise is very crack, but every moment after that is very much not crack. Lily and James love harry more than anything, the way a child should be loved; James and Sirius have the epic friendship of a lifetime; Sirius and Remus have staggering amounts of resolved sexual tension and take turns keeping each other in check; Regulus, though he realized that Voldemort and his family were shit before he died, is still unlearning all his racist bullshit and, also, years of trauma. Actually, they’re all traumatized, but hey: now they have one another again and not a damn one of them seems inclined to let go anytime soon. Quietlemonhush went, “hey, HP has a lot of Awful people in it, and a lot of Righteous people in it, and many of them are Very, Very Powerful; also, love is the most powerful force in the universe” and i said “hell yes tell me more right now.” And then they did!

Quietlemonhush writes Sirius/Remus in a way that makes it sooo much fun to devour, so the rest of their HP fic is most certainly worth a look, if that’s your thing.

Rebuilding, by Colubrina on AO3, 113k (@colubrina on tumblr)

Hermione/Draco (*shrug emojis into the abyss* yeah, yeah, like none of us have ever been there before). Takes place during Hogwarts 8th year, and while the beginning is, IMO, a little unfair to Ron, it gets much better. Tells the story of Hermione and Draco clearing the air, learning to like each other, having some hormones over each other, and then falling in love. Also tells the story of Hermione and Theo Nott becoming friends; the story of how every single 7th and 8th year student is fucked to hell by the war and the Carrows; the story of how they start an emotional support group about it and all become friends; and the story of, what the hell do you do with yourself after that kind of trauma?

I’ve been dipping in and out of Colubrina’s HP since before I was even on tumblr; I actually found them in those dark yesteryears when the only fandom interactions I had were on fanfiction.net. Of such fame as Green Girl, which is an HP fic staple, and has also written a lot of wackier, crackier, and darker things than that. If you don’t take yourself too seriously, I highly recommend many of their big HP works, though I imagine it’ll press some people’s buttons. Colubrina’s work really does take up a corner of my mind whenever I’m in an HP mood, and will take up yours if you let it.

☆ all waiting is long, by shuofthewind on AO3, 149k ( @shu-of-the-wind on tumblr)

This is so well written that I can’t stop thinking about it. It is occupying my mind when I lie awake at night, you know? It’s one of those. Hermione messes with something she probably shouldn’t have in Grimmauld Place, so when Sirius is sent through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, she gets thrust into an alternate universe...in 1975. Instead of handwaving it away, shuofthewind actually gets into the mechanics of it in a way that makes sense, to emphasize that hermione is never going home. ever. The world she finds herself is shifted slightly to the left, quite a bit darker, but in a “the author is treating the idea of a society-wide conflict over blood purity much more seriously than JKR ever did” way, not a sensationalist way. Now, Hermione has to grapple with all her grief at losing everyone she’s ever loved or known, the moral/ethical/magical implications of sharing what she knows about her future in an alternate world, and, you know, a goddamn war with people who want to murder her for being who she is. This Hermione is smart, and she’s kind, and she’s powerful, and she’s making real friends. If you hate JKR’s guts I’d go read this right now, because it delivers in all the ways she failed us. It’s plotty, its got great world-building, and it pulls back the white curtain on the wizarding world to show you that, like real life, it’s multicultural and full of queer people...and the discrimination that comes with both.

shuofthewind write epics, mainly for the MCU, and I’ve read some of them a looooong time ago, so this fic kinda seemed out of left field for me but im SOOOO GLAD it exists. If you want MCU fic you can sink your teeth into, go for it, but alas, they do not have any more HP fic (.......yet?)

Speak Now [+] Listen Now, by mrsfrizzle on AO3, 33k altogether

Harry reaches out to Remus for support because Umbridge is getting to him with her literal torture. Remus, being a former professor, former mandatory reporter, person who loves Harry and has since he was born, and all around good man, tells Harry he has to tell someone, or Remus will. It’s everything any adult looking back on that time in HP canon ever wanted, which is for an actual adult to say “what the fuck, those are literal chidlren” and then do something about it. Then, a far more dangerous task: Harry trusts Remus enough to go to him about the Dursleys. Harry and Remus’ relationship develops SO WELL, and there’s a bit of exploration about how Sirius may not exactly be guardian material, because he did in fact spend 12 years of his life getting tortured instead of growing up. I think I’m actually going to go reread this right now, because it speaks to my id.

they do have some other HP fic which did not appeal to my hyperspecific wants, but may appeal to some of yours. I think they’re also a published author, there should be a link on their profile page.

chase the stars, by Duskglass on AO3, 101k (@felix-duskglass on tumblr)

When Harry is five years old, a picture of him ends up in the Daily Prophet, and Sirius Black, Terror of Ministry Officials Touring Azkaban everywhere, gets a hold of that issue. He then, in order: breaks out of Azkaban; crosses the countryside to Surrey; Finds Harry: Kidnaps Harry; Breaks Into Remus’ Apartment; starts processing (or maybe just acknowledging) his trauma from Azkaban, the war, and his childhood; and pines after Remus. It’s a little plotty, and deals a lot (sometimes through flashbacks) with the specific awful things that happened to Sirius—largely because, after years in the constant presence of Dementors, those are nearly literally the only memories he has left. It’s a wonder he’s got the strength to love Harry and Remus at all. But then, maybe it isn’t.

This is a Very Serious Fic, but the rest of Duskglass’s HP work is actually just cracky enough to tickle your funny-bone, while still making you think “okay but why couldn’t we have done that in the first place.”

So! That’s it for recs, for now. These are all things I’ve found and read in the last month; if any of y’all are interested in my old HP recs, let me know and I can make a post for that, too. While I’m still very conflicted about my choice of current fandom, I am not in ANY way conflicted about my taste in fic and authors. Send these guys some love, read their fic if you’re so inclined, and leave some nice comments at the end of it.

#harry potter #hp #fic recs #hp fic #to the authors: if for some reason you don't want to be on this list #let me know and i'll be happy to take your part down #tho i'm hoping you're fine with it because i want other people to read this stuff #and then cry about it with me #harry potter fic #harry potter fic recs

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shewastheheart · 3 years

Text

A/N: Absolutely AU.

She thought her nerves would be rioting in her stomach, her heartbeat picking up the closer she drew to the edge of the cliff, the edge of her life. But that's what has finally led her here, isn't it? The lack of feeling?

Her son is gone; the home of her body emptied of his presence, her arms too. There's nothing left, nothing to live for.

She's left her home, her family, her abuser. Ran away with the naive idea that she and her newborn child would have a new life together, a fresh start.

She was a fool. How could she ever believe that a new life was meant for her?

Her eyes sting, but the tears don't come. She thinks she's emptied of those too.

Esme takes another step forward, the wind whispering along her neck, coaxing her forward, the waves calling her to join in their crash against the rocks below.

This life was never meant for her, she knows that now.

The breath shudders past her chapped lips.

This was inevitable.

She's balancing on the true edge now, all she has to do is lean forward. Her bare toes flex in the grass for one last time, her heart accelerating ever so slightly as she finally lets go and falls forward.

One moment she's falling and the next, she is not.

Esme's eyes flutter open, her brow furrowing at the grey sky above, the sound of waves still all around. Something is holding her, a cool embrace carrying her.

"I didn't even feel it," she mumbles, glancing up to see what has her. Only to realize it is a who. "Dr. Cullen?"

She remembers him vividly from her youth, those beautiful golden eyes, the perfectly combed blond hair, the compassion that radiates from his very presence.

She has always struggled with her belief in God, but if this is her escort to the afterlife, she has to say she appreciates His thoughtfulness. Her childhood doctor from a decade ago is as close to angels as she ever came.

But her guardian angel... he doesn't look happy with her at all.

"What were you doing?" he whispers. The clutch of his hands under her knees, at her shoulder, where he's carrying her, tightens. "Why would you... what were you thinking?"

Suddenly, she is struck by the idea that maybe she is not yet dead after all.

"Did you save me?" Esme hisses, eyes tearing from his gaze to look around them. They're standing on a cluster of rocks amidst the ocean, beneath the cliff. Where she was supposed to land. "How did you... why?"

She looks back at him, torn between the urge to sob and smack him.

"Why?" he questions incredulously. "Ms. Platt-"

"You remember me?" she cuts in, shaking her head and shifting in his grasp.

He quickly sets her on her own two feet. An involuntary shiver wracks her bones as her bare toes touch the frigid surface of the rock, the chilled spray of the waves licking at her calves.

"Of course, I remember you, I - you were my patient."

"Ten years ago," she argues, gripping his waist when her knees threaten to give out as the leftover adrenaline floods through her. "Dr. Cullen, I-" The tears do come now. What has he done? How could this have happened? "You can't, this isn't - please, god, please" she chokes out. "Let me die."

She bows her head, letting it come into contact with his chest. The idea of continuing on, of living with it, with everything... she can't.

"Shh, Esme, please," he whispers and she realizes she's sobbing, ugly and painfully into the sweater against her forehead. "I couldn't. I couldn't. I'm so sorry."

His hand gently touches the back of her head, skimming deft fingers through her tangled hair. Her body threatens to shudder at the touch, jerk away from it, but... it's the first time in so long that someone has treated her with such care, such gentleness. With something that promises he won't hurt her.

Carlisle didn't think about the next move, what to do after he saved her.

She cries herself into silence, her face red and her eyes swollen. Numbed. She remains leaning against him, a series of small tremors rippling through her body every few seconds.

"Ms. Platt," he calls to her, scared to move, to spook her. "Is there somewhere I can take you? I... we're a bit of a long way from Ohio, do you have family here now?"

Her breath catches, her chest shuddering as she shakes her head.

"No," she rasps, barely audible above the crash of the waves around her. He really needs to get her back on dry land, away from the waters and the god-forsaken cliff she tried to jump from. "He's gone."

"He?" Carlisle repeats softly.

Esme lifts her head, her cheeks tear-stained and her lips still trembling. "My son, Dr. Cullen. I... I just had a baby and he didn't make it. I couldn't even save my baby."

Her shoulders collapse and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to keep the shudders of her body contained.

If he had a heart, he thinks it would have stuttered in his chest, cracked for her.

"Oh, Esme," he exhales, relishing the rare sound of her name in his mouth. "I'm so sorry... let me get you out of here. Let me take you somewhere safe and you can tell me more about all that has happened."

"Safe?" she echoes, a feral spark of something dark registering in her gaze. "Charles."

Her spine stiffens and she instinctively moves closer to Carlisle. She's afraid, he notes, afraid of this Charles person.

"No one is going to hurt you," he swears, but there is more than mere comfort in the words. He means it.

Esme blinks and shifts her attention once more to his face, but this time, it's as if she's truly seeing him for the first time. Her brow creases, confusion tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"How can this be real? How... could you have possibly-" Her head tilts back, eyes flicking from the cliff above their heads and back to him again. "How could you have stopped me?"

He doesn't know how to answer, how to possibly begin to cover the truth.

He doesn't really want to.

Carlisle carefully takes one of her hands in his own, squeezing it with the most minuscule portion of his strength.

"I'll show you, but you have to trust me. I know it's asking so much-"

"I do," she interrupts, those glassy eyes staring up at him with far more trust than he's ever deserved. Her brow furrows a little, as if the concept is simple. "I trusted you then, I trust you now."

"Then hold on."

Esme is still clinging to his neck even though they've been back on the ground for at least five minutes now.

"I'm so sorry I've frightened you," Doctor Cullen tells her for what has to be the third time, but sounding no less earnest.

After he picked her up and practically flew from the outcropping of rocks amidst the sea, rising from the surface of the ocean's edge to the dry land up above, he had carried her to a nearby fallen tree, gingerly placed her to sit upon the trunk. It's how they've remained in the last few minutes, with his mouth murmuring a stream of apologies and his body leaning over hers, bowed by the latch of her arms, but not seeming to be taxed by the position.

She is supposed to be dead, broken like waves against the rocks and carried out to sea. Instead, she is sitting with a man with... with what? Superhuman abilities? A devil in disguise of a beautiful man?

"What are you?" she finally manages to ask, pushing past the stiffness in her arms to relinquish their hold.

Doctor Cullen bows his head, his eyes falling closed as if in prayer.

"I'm afraid that it may come as an even greater fright to you."

She swallows hard. "You do not seem to mean me any harm. Unless you have only saved my life to torture me further."

His head lifts immediately, his eyes stricken as they land upon her. "No, never. I may be a monster, but I couldn't... my intention could never be to hurt you."

The intensity has her taken aback, but she holds his gaze. "A monster?"

It certainly isn't a word she would have associated with the soft-spoken doctor beside her. She can still remember with clarity the way in which he treated her ten years ago, with delicate hands and a genuine smile, eyes that held hers for a moment too long.

She never managed to forget him, more than likely because Charles made her wish even more for the first man to ever make her heart skip. She could never help thinking how she wished it had been him she exchanged vows with. Esme always managed to convince herself that Doctor Cullen would have healed her wounds, not bestowed more upon her.

"I am sure you have heard certain myths, legends of immortal creatures?" he begins, lowering to sit near her, leaving a large gap of space between them.

Esme nods, childish tales of magical sea creatures and monsters under the cloak of darkness in the woods flittering across her brain. "Some."

He twines his hands together between his knees. "What about vampires?"

It takes a moment for the correlation to register, what he's trying to tell her.

"I am... impossibly fast, incredibly strong. There is little in this world that could truly hurt - let alone kill - me," Doctor Cullen continues. "I'm dangerous and it would serve you best to stay far away from me."

Her head is spinning so fast that she has to squeeze her eyes shut, nearly buries her face in her hands, but wait-

"Stay away from you?" she repeats, meeting his forlorn expression staring back at her. As if waiting for her to react with the utmost amount of fear and hatred towards him.

And perhaps she should, if what he is saying is true and not some post suicide hallucination of hers. If her former doctor is actually a vampire.

"I do not... feed on humans," he tells her quickly. "I survive only on the blood of animals, but I am aware it does not change who I am, what I am. I could never expect-"

"I know you won't hurt me," she breathes, her swollen eyes feeling heavy, her entire body weighed down by exhaustion and a fresh wave of despair. "Can you take me to the place you spoke of, to safety?"

"Of course," he answers, rising in what feels like a flash. "And Esme?"

Before she realizes what is happening, he is easing his arms beneath her legs, the curve of her spine, and carrying her bridal style against him once more.

She hums in response, giving up on the idea of remaining conscious any longer and leaning into the wall of his chest against her cheek instead.

"Please, call me Carlisle."

Her lips quirk. This has been quite a lovely dream.

To continue with the full story that will follow this first chapter, I hope you’ll consider finding this little story on FFnet. :)

#twilight fanfiction #esme cullen #carlisle cullen #carlisle x esme #esme x carlisle #carlesme #twilight #fanfiction #my writing #lover of mine

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cora-vizsla · 3 years

Text

Hypnotic (Taking Over Me) - Chapter 1

Pairing: Eventual Jedi!OC x Sith!Obi Wan

Word Count: 3.3K

Story Rating: E (18+)

Chapter Rating: T

Warning: Swearing. Threats of violence. Calm kidnapping.

A/N: Here is the first chapter! I have a decent amount of this story written due to the fact I wasn’t sure if Sith!Obi Wan was something that would fully call to me. But here we are!

“You can’t be serious.”

“I can’t believe you’re doubting me.”

“It’s a cliff.”

“Yes.”

“You want to jump off a cliff.”

“I’ll use the force.”

“I know we have different Master’s but mine never told me we could fly. I’ll have to ask him about that.”

“I never said I would fly Zara. I said I would catch myself.”

“No, Anakin, you said you would use the force. You never once said how you would use the force.”

“I can’t believe we’ve known each other this long and you think I would do something without having a plan.”

Zara crossed her arms across her chest and looked at Anakin. She peeked down at the space her friend was adamant about jumping into and huffed out a laugh.

“It is because I know you that I believe you would do something without having a plan.”

Anakin smiled fully at her and laughed. She rolled her eyes but returned the smile. As much as he annoyed the hell out of her sometimes, he was the closest friend she had. She looked around and smiled at Cody and the small group of troopers she had brought with her. It had been a fruitless mission, but it was almost refreshing to just enjoy the landscape for a while, even if Anakin wanted to jump to his death.

“Are you ready, General?”

“Yes, Commander, round the troops up. Time to head back.”

Cody started commanding the rest of the troops to enter the ship parked close to where they had been standing. Anakin was still looking down the cliff but before Zara could tell him to take a few steps back she felt a strange energy behind her. Absentmindedly she put her hand on her saber and looked over her shoulder. It was like someone was staring at her the way there was an electric jolt down her spine.

“Anakin, do you feel that?”

He turned to look at her and frowned immediately at how concerned she looked. He barked for the troopers to hurry up and load up.

“Generals, what about you?”

“Stay close, Cody. Whatever this is, you won’t be able to help.”

He hesitated but listened. In the end, he would always listen to his General even if he didn’t agree with the order. Zara turned fully and felt Anakin move so he was next to her. They could joke with each other all day, but in the end, they worked together flawlessly. One of the perks of basically growing up together.

“I’ve never felt something so dark.”

“Me either, Zar. Guess the intel wasn’t wrong.”

“The intel said droids, not this.”

The presence came closer until they finally saw someone walking towards them. The mystery person was wearing all black robes but didn’t move like the shadow his robes could make them be. No, this person was practically strutting. When they got close enough, they stopped and pulled their hood down with black gloved hands.

“Sith.”

Zara and Anakin grabbed their sabers and ignited them. The man in front of them had burning amber eyes and a feral smile.

“Ready to fight already? I haven’t even introduced myself yet.”

“Nothing to introduce. You’re a Sith. End of story.”

Zara gripped her saber tighter, studying the man. Anakin was always ready to fight no matter the situation, not that this situation didn’t call for it. Zara was just more likely to study and evaluate all the aspects that Anakin’s temper caused him to miss.

He was sure of himself. His energy was dangerously dark, but there was almost an air of sarcasm around him. It made all her senses sit on edge, but it wasn’t in the typical way. Normally she would have started an attack. The man was strange and strange meant she could learn something.

She snapped out of her thoughts when Anakin raised his saber. The man laughed and finally pulled his own saber, igniting it to show the deadly blade was a deep red. It didn’t surprise her, but the way it reflected off his eyes did.

“So, the boy is a guardian and the girl a consular. Interesting.”

“What do you know of the Jedi?”

Zara finally spoke and the man’s attention immediately snapped to her. He let his eyes rake down her once before smirking.

“Was wondering if you were mute, darling.”

Anakin let out a snarl at the cute name, but it only brought the Sith more enjoyment.

“Oh dear, did I strike a nerve? I didn’t realize they changed the rules when it comes to attachments.”

Zara furrowed her brows and looked over at Anakin. He was absolutely feral looking. Before she could say much to him, the comm link in her ear started going off. She pressed her finger to it and instantly heard the worry in Cody’s voice.

“General, were down the cliff. A quick jump would get you to us.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“It was the only way to get to you. Sorry, General.”

“It’s okay, Commander. You did good. See you soon.”

The man was staring directly at her and it unnerved her. She felt like he was looking through her. She nodded towards the cliff while looking at Anakin and he laughed, putting his saber away on his waist.

“Well, Sith, it’s been fun. Time to go.”

Zara and Anakin both stepped backwards until they were directly at the edge. The Sith put his saber back on his own waist and crossed his arms. Anakin jumped and the look of shock on the man’s face made Zara chuckle.

“Are you going to jump too, darling?”

“What other choice do I have?”

She had meant it as a rhetorical question, but her foot slipped slightly when the man responded in earnest.

“You could come with me.”

“Now, why would I ever go with a Sith?”

“Darth Veth. It would be awfully rude for you to go without giving me your name since I so kindly gave you mine.”

“A Sith looking for civility from a Jedi? How odd.”

He flashed her a grin. She had no idea why she answered him but when she spoke her full name, Darth Veth nodded as if he was greeting her. It was as if he were meeting a new friend, not an enemy on the battlefield. It unnerved her even more than his staring, but she wouldn’t let him see that.

“Well, as fun as this has been. It’s time for me to go.”

She jumped and flipped forward, landing on her feet but down in a crouching position. Anakin held his hand out for her, and she took it with a smile. The ship started raising up and they both saw the Sith shaking his head with a devious smile. Once Zara and Anakin slipped back into the ship, she looked back once and saw him putting his hood up not even attempting to chase them.

“What a strange man.”

“Don’t try to make sense of the Sith, Zar. It will just give you a headache.”

---

“Thank you for meeting with me, Master.”

“Of course, Zara. Although you aren’t my padawan anymore I am always here for guidance.”

Zara beamed up at him as they walked out into the garden. It had always been a favorite place for her, and Mace couldn’t count how many times he had found her there reading as a child.

“I know we gave our official report to the council, but I just feel so strange about the whole situation.”

“What is bothering you?”

She stopped and crossed her arms, mimicking her former Master. They faced each other and she shift her weight to one side.

“Darth Veth. Do we know anything about him?”

“Nothing official. Why?”

“He knew about our sabers. He knew that Anakin is a guardian and that I’m a consular. That isn’t exactly general knowledge to the masses.”

“No, it isn’t. What else did he say?”

“He brought up connections and attachments within the Jedi code. He kept.. calling me darling and it pissed Anakin off.”

“Getting under your skin isn’t exactly strange for a Sith.”

“Asking for my name is though. Even once he found out it was more like he was trying to just make conversation. Once Anakin was out of the equation he was almost.. friendly.”

“That is strange. You didn’t feel comfortable telling the counsel this?”

“Oh, that doesn’t bother me. Anakin just never lets me get a word in.”

Mace laughed at her comment and nodded, finally letting himself relax a little.

“Did he give you the impression that he was following you?”

“Not really. He seemed more interesting in talking to me. Anakin he just looked at like he wanted to fight him.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised by that.”

Zara smiled at him and nodded.

“I need to speak to the rest of the counsel, but I think it may be wise to send you out on your own without Anakin. If the Sith shows up, then we know there may be an issue. If not, we will just keep an eye out for him.”

“You’ll be giving Commander Cody less of a headache, that’s for sure.”

Mace chuckled and nodded.

“Go prepare for a mission. I’ll be getting back to you shortly.”

She bowed forward slightly, and Mace returned the gesture. He wasn’t always the friendliest Jedi there was but with Zara he was always willing to give advice and a smile. He watched her go with just a touch of worry. He really hoped that there wasn’t a Sith with his eyes set on her.

---

Zara stepped off the ship and looked at the landscape. Another humid planet with a lot of vegetation. Cody stepped next to her and pulled his helmet off, a smile on his face.

“Don’t look too thrilled that General Skywalker isn’t here.”

He chuckled and scratched at his head.

“Sorry, General. Just nice to have a smaller mission where there won’t be many shenanigans.”

“Are you saying I’m incapable of being a pain in your ass?”

Cody smiled again and shook his head quickly.

“No, General. Would never dream of saying that.”

Zara smiled and nodded towards the set of buildings they were tasked with searching.

“The intel says that most of the buildings have been empty for years. We don’t expect to find much.”

“Can I ask why we’re here then?”

Zara hesitated. Testing to see if the Sith would show wasn’t an official part of the mission. Using a Jedi Knight for bait wasn’t exactly something the council wanted everyone to know. She had no qualms with it but understood why it needed to be kept quiet.

“Just needed to make sure nothing is going on. We can also see what kind of capabilities the area has so if we do see droids here, we will know why.”

“Understood.”

“There is a smaller temple to the east. I plan on checking that out for any artifacts that may be there. Keep in contact with me. If there are any problems retreat back here immediately. We don’t have the numbers to get into a huge firefight.”

“Yes, General.”

Cody barked out his order to his men and they all left. If the Sith knew that she was a consular then he would expect her to be looking for things to learn. No one had been surprised when she ended up with a green saber. She loved losing herself in the forms and movement with her saber, but it was rare to find her without a book in her hands.

The walk to the temple wasn’t a hard one, but she hated how much she was sweating already. Life on Alderaan with a wealthy family hadn’t forced her to deal with the heat often. She tried not to complain but she preferred the cold if she was being honest.

Once she reached the temple she walked in, focusing on the artwork inscribed into the walls. She traced her fingers across the etching and smile at how intricate it was. Her footsteps echoed through the halls until she came to a room that had the walls covered in texts. She smiled at them and easily found herself lost in them.

Looking back, she could have kicked herself for not being observant. Part of the mission was to be bait yet she was so focused on the texts that she didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the hallway. She didn’t focus in on the feeling of darkness coming up behind her and she absolutely didn’t plan on jumping when her name was called.

“Startled, darling?”

She pushed the book now sitting on the floor to the side with her foot and ghosted her hand over her saber. Darth Veth was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“No need for sabers, dear. If I had wanted to harm you it would have been very easy with how distracted you were.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Would you have attacked someone from behind?”

She sighed and relaxed a fraction.

“I suppose not. I’m also not a Sith though.”

He chuckled and pushed off the wall, moving to the books. He picked one up and started carding through the thick pages. Zara crossed her arms and watched him with confusion.

“It would have been a crime to hurt someone looking so innocently enthralled with knowledge around her.”

“I.. enjoy books.”

“I could see that.”

He shut the book with a snap and gently placed it back where it came from. He dusted his hands off and faced her fully.

“Why are you here, Lord Veth?”

“Falling for your trap, of course.”

“Trap?”

“Oh, darling. Do you find me dull? I knew the moment I saw you that the council would use you as bait. They surely wouldn’t send the hot head that was with you.”

“And how do you know I’m not a hot head?”

He chuckled and took a few steps forward. She wanted to back up but if she did it would put her in a rather dangerous situation. She may not have had the advantage, but she wasn’t going to let him box her into a corner.

“You’re far too smart to swing without assessing every possibility of your actions. If you weren’t you would have attacked when there were two of you.”

“You weren’t posing a threat at the time.”

He hummed as he stopped, directly in front of her. She looked up slightly, due to the height difference, and finally saw the different depths of amber his eyes were.

“And what about now? Am I posing a threat now?”

“Your saber isn’t drawn. Your hands are clasped behind your back. Though I couldn’t guess your next move, you are trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. My Master would have told me to be skeptical of you; never trust a move you make.”

“Ah, Master Windu. He is absolutely one not to trust really anyone. You didn’t fully answer me though. Do youthink I am a threat right now?”

She took a breath and felt out into the force. She could feel his darkness, but it wasn’t aimed at her. She could tell he would be fast, probably faster than her, but his muscles weren’t poised to strike. When she squared her shoulders Veth raised his eyebrows slightly.

“No. At least not beyond the fact that you are a Sith standing in front of me in a dimly lit room with only one doorway that you are currently blocking me from using.”

“Master Windu has trained you well. You’re levelheaded. How did you become so attached to the Skywalker boy when he is so volatile?”

“How do you know anything about Anakin?”

He chuckled and reached out to touch Zara’s long hair. She flinched but made no move to pull away.

“I know very much about Ani. It’s you, Zara Fross that I know very little about.”

“Pity we don’t have more time, Veth. I must be going.”

She walked by him, surprised that he made no move to stop her. When she reached the door, he cleared his throat making her turn to look at him.

“Ah, Zara, silly me. I forgot to tell you that there is a reason that I am here.”

“Oh? What reason would that be.”

“You see, it is true that I know very little about you. However, I do not plan on that being the case for very long. My ship is close, and you will be going with me.”

Zara laughed incredulously and crossed her arms.

“Don’t mistake my civility with you with us being friends, Sith.”

“I don’t. You may be the gentlest Jedi I have met thus far, but I figured that you wouldn’t come with me. The fact of the matter is, I need you to. I’m not normally the kind of man to galivant around the galaxy and kidnap young women but in this case, it is my mission.”

“Then we will fight. I’m not going with you.”

“Ah, also expected that response. I’ll make it easy for you both emotionally and physically. I anticipated you sending your men to the buildings. I have them set to detonate if you don’t go with me willingly. I’ve observed you for quite some time and I know how fond of your clones you are. It pains you deeply when you lose a life under your command and you will lose all of them if you reject my hospitality.”

Zara took a step back and glanced down at the comms connected to her wrist.

“I wouldn’t try to warn them. They’ll be dead before the message gets to them.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? This was a trap set for you.”

“One that I anticipated. Though I will be fair and show you this.”

He held up a device that was clearly made to detonate explosives. Zara ran her hand over her face and sighed.

“Alright, fine. I have a stipulation though.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“Let me leave a message for my men that they can give to the council. Since I have no idea where you’re taking me, I couldn’t give them a single clue. They already know you exist, and it will stop Anakin from doing something extremely reckless.”

“Very well. Let’s go.”

He walked past her, and she sighed. The trap that had been laid was not going to according to plan at all.

---

Once a message was left, Zara followed her sort of captor to his ship. It wasn’t anything fancy and it wasn’t meant for long trips. When they reached their destination, the man held his hand out to her expectantly. She looked down at his hand then back at his face.

“Saber. Can’t exactly let you keep a weapon that you’re trained to kill with on your persons.”

“I’m not giving you my saber.”

“Then I kill your men. I thought we went over this?”

“Maker. Fine.”

She ripped it off her side and slammed it into his hand, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Ah, there is that Skywalker influence.”

“I’ll have you know I was just as capable of sarcasm and being snarky before I met Anakin.”

He laughed and motioned for her to climb in. She shot him a glare before climbing in, plopping down into the copilot seat. Once he was situated, he started the ship up and began the trip to wherever he was taking her. She huffed out a sigh and looked out at the lights streaking by.

“Don’t look so glum, darling. Think of this as an extended vacation for you.”

Zara chuckled darkly and muttered just loud enough for the Sith to hear her.

“A Sith and a Jedi climb into a ship..”

He laughed fully and clapped his hands together once.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

“If this is fun, I’d hate to see what your definition of torture is.”

#sith!obi wan #sith!kenobi #sith!kenobi x OC #sith!Obi wan x OC #Jedi!oc #jedi!zara #ZaraFross #obi wan kenobi #kenobi #starwars #star wars

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thesuitkovian · 3 years

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Avengers and Co Reacting to you Needing to Borrow Their Clothes

Author’s Note: Back at it again with “Avengers and Co Reacting to you Needing to Borrow Their Clothes”. So… yeah. Here’s that.

This includes Avengers, (some) Guardians of the Galaxy and other supporting characters cause I felt like it.

If someone else has already done this, please let me know so I can give them creds!!

Bruce Banner

Would make a joke about you not ruining them cause Hulk has already ruined enough of them

Would shrug/wave it off when you ask how soon he wants them back

Secretly loves that he doesn’t get them back

Bucky Barnes

Silently obsessed with seeing you in his clothes

Would offer them a lot more often from then on

Somehow half your wardrobe is now his clothing

It would make him absolutely feral to see you wearing them out in public/around other people

Carol Danvers

Would smirk and tell you you look hot

Would flirt with you the entire time you’re wearing them

Offers to take them off you

Clint Barton

Smirks and makes some sort of off handed comment when you ask to borrow his clothes

“If you wanted to get into my pants, you could have just asked”

Would ask if you washed them when you return them, as a joke

Gamora

Very casual about it

You didn’t even have to ask, she offered

Helmut Zemo

Probably would have bought you new clothes if you needed them

But if he didn’t get a chance and you do need to borrow his clothes, he would absolutely love the sight of you in them

Could not keep his eyes or his hands off you the whole time you’re wearing his clothes

Would offer for you to wear them again

If you keep the clothes, and he sees you wearing them casually/out in public he will kiss you on the spot

John Walker

No hesitation to offer you his clothes

Would say “not a problem” when you thank him and then give you a Captain America smile

Waves it off when you thank him again when to giving him back his clothes

Lemar Hoskins

Would openly appreciate it

Probably would play with the hem of your (his?) shirt

Flirts with you the entire time

Loki

He wouldn’t let you wear his clothes unless someone forced him to. Like say Thor talked him into it

Begrudgingly would give you his clothes

Refuses to admit to himself or anyone else that he likes it

Would tell you to never give them back, because now that you’ve worn them they are beneath him but it’s actually because he wants to see you wear them again

Natasha Romanoff

Flirts with you

Touches her clothes/running a hand up and down your back

Very proud if anyone else sees you in her clothes

Nebula

Very confused about why she likes it

Realizing she likes it makes her a little sketchy at first.

Would be a little awkward but insistent about you wearing them again

Peter Parker

A little excited about it, thinks it's cool you’re wearing his clothes

Offers to let you keep them

Would probably take pictures when you when you’re not looking and put it as his wallpaper

Peter Quill

“Oh woah”

Would either be overly casual about it or would be really awkward and stuttery about it.

Pietro Maximoff

Would immediately make a comment about fucking you in his clothes

Cannot keep his hands off of you, wants a hand on your waist or having you sit in his lap

Sam Wilson

Low whistle of appreciation

“Damn, [Name] lookin’ good.”

When you say “These are you clothes Sam”

He responds with “That’s why they look so good.” With a wink.

Scott Lang

“Oh yeah, for sure!” : Proceeds to scrabble around the room looking for clean clothes for you to borrow

Unable to stop himself from staring when he sees you in his clothes, and rubs at the back of his neck

“Wow um…” at a loss for words

Sharon Carter

Also very casual about it, like Gamora

Lays out multiple options for you to pick from

Would ask how they fit/feel

Waits till you turn your back to smile at how you look in her clothes

Shuri

“YOU MEAN I GET TO GIVE YOU A MAKEOVER??!!”

Has you try on several different things

Makes sure its stylish/hip and comfortable at the same time

Probably also manages to make it high tech too

Compliments herself: “I am so good at this, I should have been a fashion designer”

Stephen Strange

Wouldn’t hesitate.

Very formal about it, and asks you to have them back and washed by a certain time/day or as soon as possible.

Silent appreciation about how good you look, but would never tell you and you would never tell by the blank look on his face.

Steve Rogers

“Oh yeah, of course!” Kinda surprised you would ask him

“Be careful with them, haha” Awkward laugh and side elbow

Wide eyed when he sees you in his clothes (Takes a deep breath and crosses his arms to compose himself)

“Do they fit good?”

T’challa

Smiles when you ask and smiles again even better when he sees you in them

“You should wear my clothes more often”

Would be very proud (but like soft proud) if anyone saw you in his clothes.

Thor

“Why of course, Midgardian!”

Holds up the shirts/pants to your body to see what it would look like

“Yes these will suit you quite well”

Winks and nudges you when you come out saying something along the lines of, “You’re starting to look like me, Midgardian, soon my people will be mistaking you for a lost child of Odin.”

Tony Stark

“Yeah, go right ahead”

Thinks nothing of it

Until he sees you

Has to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor

“I would say they look better on you but we both know that’s impossible. You’ll just have to settle for second place.”

Valkyrie

“Uh… sure?”

Makes one of those pleasantly surprised ‘hmm’ faces

“Lookin’ good”

Vision

“Of course!”

Worries about if they fit right/are too big/small.

Smiles softly when he sees you in his clothes, “You look darling, my darling...”

Wade Wilson

Makes an innuendo/comment about you wearing his clothes, probably one similar to Clint.

When he sees you in them, he wolf whistles and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Wow, your ass looks even better in those pants than mine does. Now that’s impressive.”

Probably smacks your ass too

Wanda Maximoff

Volunteers first to let you wear her clothes

Slightly adjusts them when you come out of the bathroom/bedroom

Compliments you in Sokovian, and winks when you ask what it means, without answering you

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notapaladin · 3 years

Text

Obsidian and Blood, an overview

Do you like fantasy? Do you like mysteries? Do you like Mesoamerican mythology? Do you like ALL OF THOSE THINGS TOGETHER, set against the lush backdrop of Tenochtitlan in 1480? (Or maybe you just want to know more about the series I have been going feral over since August.) Then buckle up, because oh boy have I got a series for you!

*drumroll, please*

OBSIDIAN AND BLOOD, written by Aliette de Bodard (better known for her Xuya and Dominion of the Fallen series)

There are two kinds of people: Those who see the words “Aztec fantasy/murder mysteries set in very well-researched 1480s Tenochtitlan BUT WITH MAGIC, investigated by the HIGH PRIEST OF THE GOD OF DEATH” and immediately ran off to buy them, and those who clearly need convincing. So here I am, shamelessly plugging my new hyperfixation!

Obsidian and Blood consists of three semi-standalone novels and three (free!) prequel short stories, all featuring 30-year-old Acatl as our first-person POV mystery solver. Acatl is not, however, your average historical detective; aside from being set firmly in Tenochtitlan in 1480 with all that implies re. the acceptability of slavery and human sacrifice, he also is the High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli in a universe where the gods regularly meddle in mortal affairs and magic spells are powered largely by rituals and blood—animal, human, or your own. You’d think this would make Acatl really, really good at solving murders, but you’d be wrong. He is the least of the Triple Alliance’s three High Priests, and his god doesn’t come at his servant’s beck and call. Not to mention the other gods, who have their own deadly agendas. That’s not even getting into the people around him, who might be the most dangerous of all. Luckily, he has more allies than he thinks—if he has the strength to actually reach out to them and admit he could use the help!

(He doesn’t need to reach out to his student Teomitl. Teomitl, a confident young warrior of imperial blood, keeps volunteering. This gives Acatl roughly one heart attack per book.)

You will like them if…

I did just say “magic murder mysteries in 1480s Tenochtitlan,” right? It’s real Precolumbian Mexico hours up in here! The history of the Aztec Empire and their Triple Alliance actually forms multiple key plot points throughout the series!

you’re into Aztec history/culture in general

if a DnD fan, you are REALLY into the Raven Queen

you think blood magic is super cool and wish it wasn’t treated as the realm of The Bad Guys

you get incredibly hyped over lesser-known mythologies treated respectfully but also very awesomely (the thing where the Aztecs thought human sacrifice kept the sun in the sky? Yeah, in this universe it is literally true and plot-relevant)

you are big into chaste heroes, lots of snarky asides, highly opinionated narrators who let their own prejudices destroy them, “from an outside perspective this is cosmic horror but for the characters it is a Tuesday,” mysteries with twists you will NOT see coming, and themes of trauma/memories/family legacies

you love reading about dysfunctional family relationships in various states of repair/further destruction

you’ve ever thought “hey this historical mystery is cool but what if there was MAGIC”

you like noir detective stories but want them with magic

you like urban fantasy but want them to have historical settings instead of vaguely modern-day ones

Plot/character summaries below!

SHORT STORIES (prequels to the novels, blurbs by me)

Obsidian Shards

Warriors have been found dead in the town of Colhuacan, obsidian shards embedded in their hearts. Acatl, priest of Mictlantecuhtli, suspects a creature of the Underworld—one he already calls a foe, for it slew his first and last apprentice.

Beneath the Mask

In the Tenochtitlan suburb of Coyoacan, Acatl’s childhood friend Huchimitl begs him to save her only son’s war captive; the man whose sacrifice will make the boy a proper warrior is paralyzed from an unknown curse, unable even to rise from the floor. But who could have cursed him, and is it connected to the mask Huchimitl now wears?

Safe, Child, Safe

A toddler is slowly wasting away, the mark of the Underworld on him, and Acatl is tasked with finding the cause. But no creature of the Underworld kills so slowly, and so Acatl must turn his investigation to the living.

THE BOOKS (blurbs taken directly from the book listings, you don’t HAVE to read them in order but I do recommend it)

Servant of the Underworld

Year One-Knife, Tenochtitlan; the capital of the Mexica Empire. Human sacrifice and the magic of living blood are the only things keeping the sun in the sky and the earth fertile. A Priestess disappears from an empty room drenched in blood. It should be a usual investigation for Acatl, High Priest of the Dead—except that his estranged brother is involved, and the more he digs, the deeper he is drawn into the political and magical intrigues of noblemen, soldiers, and priests—and of the gods themselves...

(Neutemoc: I didn't mean to sleep with her! It was an accident! Acatl: I don't understand. Did you trip?) (Acatl: I don't want a new apprentice! Teomitl: :D? Acatl: ...I will make an exception)

Harbinger of the Storm

The year is Two House, and the Emperor of the Mexica has just died. The protections he afforded the Empire are crumbling, and the way lies wide open to flesh-eating star-demons—and to the return of their creator, a malevolent goddess only held in check by the War God's power. The council should convene to choose a new Emperor, but they are too busy plotting against each other. And then someone starts summoning star-demons within the palace, to kill councilmen...Acatl, High Priest of the Dead, must find the culprit before everything is torn apart.

(Teomitl: I've only had Acatl and Mihmatini for a year, but if anything happens to them I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself) (Quenami: Playing With The Big Boys.mp3)

Master of the House of Darts

The year is Three Rabbit, and the storm is coming. The Mexica Empire now has a new Emperor, but his coronation war has just ended in a failure: the armies have retreated with a paltry forty prisoners of war, not near enough sacrifices to satisfy the gods. Acatl, High Priest for the Dead, has no desire to involve himself yet again in the intrigues of the powerful. However, when one of the prisoners dies of a magical illness, he has little choice but to investigate. For it is only one death, but it will not be the last. As the bodies pile up and the imperial court tears itself apart, dragging Teomitl, Acatl's beloved student, into the eye of the storm, the High Priest for the Dead is going to have to choose whom he can afford to trust; and where, in the end, his loyalties ultimately lie...

(Teomitl: I am no longer Baby I want Power) (Acatl, to Teomitl: What have you got there? Nezahual, gleefully: A coup! Acatl: NO!)

THE MAIN CHARACTERS (in order of appearance)

ACATL “By my face and by my heart, I’ll bring you justice.” High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli, god of death and the underworld. As such, his duties include both the obvious ones of arranging funerals and standing vigils for the dead, and the less obvious ones of investigating magical crimes and keeping the boundaries between the heavens, Earth, and the underworld intact. When Servant of the Underworld begins, he’s only recently been promoted and hates it. Has a strained relationship with his living family, due largely to not having lived up to his (dead) parents’ desires for him to become a warrior like his brother Neutemoc. Bitter, cynical, and grumpy, but devoted to justice and fairness.

Has an official character sheet.

CEYAXOCHITL “Everyone has to grow up and take responsibilities. Even small, humble priests.” Guardian of the Sacred Precinct and wielder of the power of the Duality (Ometeotl), which makes her the sworn protector of the Mexica Empire and its Revered Speaker from all sorts of mainly-magical threats. Somewhat past middle age but still very strong in her magical abilities, and something of an antagonistic mentor to Acatl. (She nominated him for the position of High Priest. He is not appreciative.) Serious and devoted to her duty, with a keen eye for potential in others. Dies in Harbinger of the Storm and you WILL cry.

NEUTEMOC “Priests hide and run away. Warriors don’t.” Acatl’s older brother, a Jaguar Knight with five children and a failing marriage. Resents Acatl for not helping to support their aging parents by becoming a warrior like he did. The central suspect during most of Servant of the Underworld’s plot, though by the end he and Acatl have begun to repair their relationship. He is strict, stern, and bitter, but truly loves his family. (In the case of his younger brother, that love is buried very deep down.)

TEOMITL “If we don’t believe in ourselves, who is going to?” Acatl’s student, an enthusiastic warrior who yearns to prove himself worthy of his power and noble rank, as well as live up to the memory of the mother who died birthing him. During Servant of the Underworld he swears himself to Chalchiuhtlicue, goddess of fresh water and lakes, gaining (among other things) command over the man-eating water monsters called ahuitzotls. He is courting Mihmatini during Harbinger of the Storm; by the time Master of the House of Darts takes place, they are married. He is abrasive and proud, but also honest, loyal, and brave. And very, very ambitious. You will want to punch him several times. This is normal. (Also, I will swear that it's not just my ship-goggles being on too tight that has me thinking his relationship with Acatl is much more weighty and personal than the one he has with his ACTUAL WIFE.)

MIHMATINI “Better laugh, and smile at the flowers and jade. Life is too short to be spent grieving.” Acatl and Neutemoc’s youngest sister, a powerful magic-user who finds herself thrust into the position of Guardian during Harbinger of the Storm. Though she has no great ambitions herself—she mostly just wants to be a mother and raise children—she is ferociously protective of her family and will fight anything that threatens them. Even themselves. (Especially themselves.) Kind, caring, and light-hearted, but her acid tongue and sharp temper are not to be dismissed. "Fuck Around And Find Out" given human form.

ACAMAPICHTLI “We have always endured.” High priest of Tlaloc and a reoccurring thorn in Acatl’s side. Though he’s primarily out for his own gain and has no patience for Acatl’s refusal to play on the field of Imperial politics, they eventually form something like an uneasy truce following the end of Harbinger of the Storm. He is snarky and sardonic, but truly cares for his clergy. During Master of the House of Darts he somehow became one of my favorite characters.

TIZOC "I've always known that priests couldn't be trusted. You have just exceeded my expectations." Teomitl’s older brother, first Master of the House of Darts and then Revered Speaker. (Look, it’s not a spoiler if you can Google it.) He is cowardly, ambitious, and the closest thing this series has to an overarching antagonist. Among other things, tries to have Acatl executed during Harbinger of the Storm. Events at the end of that book only manage to make him measurably worse. "Ah There He Is, That Motherfucker, What A Tool" #1.

QUENAMI “Oh, Acatl. Such lack of tact. You are so unsuited for the Court.” High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, appointed by Tizoc between Servant of the Underworld and Harbinger of the Storm. Comes from a noble family, and is much better at diplomacy and playing politics than he is at magic. When push comes to shove, however, he can display some surprising determination. He is arrogant, scheming, and takes joy in cutting Acatl down, but presumably has some good qualities...somewhere. "Ah There He Is, That Motherfucker, What A Tool" #2.

Maps of the series’ primary setting

Setting Primers

Official Character Index

Glossary

#obsidian and blood #aliette de bodard #aliette bodard #servant of the underworld #acatl #teomitl #mihmatini #obsblood primer

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

Forest God Deku who seems a little to keen on keeping the cute little human adventurer who has wandered into his forest crawling with monsters and fairies

Somehow, I think Forest Deity Izuku might be less feral than our average, mess-of-a-hero Izuku. Or, he might just be a little more subtle about it. It’s hard to tell, at first.

TW: Threats of Harm, Mentions of Death and Torture, and Implied Imprisonment.

The world was spinning. Spinning, spinning, spinning.

The forest around you was darkening quickly, golden light shining through gaps in tree-tops and radiating a calming, pacifying aura you couldn’t seem to lull into. Creatures came and went, curious rabbits that came to inspect an immobilized human and scavenger birds looking for an easy meal, the latter usually discouraged by flailing movements and an onslaught of inappropriate language. The trees made lazy, meandering circles around you, in no particular rush to close their investigation, the carpet of dead leaves and decaying fauna rising to brush against the tips of your limp fingers. Like a friend, silently making sure you were alright.

It occurred to you, suddenly, that the world wasn’t spinning, nor was it upside-down. You were.

And you didn’t think you wanted to be, any longer.

“You’re awake,” An unfamiliar voice greeted, bringing your attention to the boy sitting in front of you, then behind you, then to your side, your lethargic rotations soon put to a stop as his hand latched onto your wrist, holding you still. He looked calm, too calm, sitting on the forest floor as he scanned over you, giving you time to do the same. Green hair blended perfectly with the lush flora that surrounded the two of you, and a splatter of freckles spread themselves across his pale features, painted from his cheeks to his shoulders. He was shirtless, but what wasn’t covered fazed you much less than what was, everything below his waist covered by a coat of hazel fur, more similar to a fawn than a man, backward-bent knees and cloven hooves going little to settle your unease. He chuckled when he noticed you staring, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. “You were out for quite a while,” He started, his voice soft. “Must’ve hit your head on the way up. It’s a miracle you woke up at all, really.”

“Fuck off,” You mumbled, the words weighed down by your own exhaustion. You groaned lightly, attempting to pull yourself into an upright position, but as soon as you shifted, whatever was wrapped around your ankle dug into your skin, forcing you to realize just how rough the material was. A dried vine, you guessed, braided but not dethroned. Tight, and getting tighter anytime you moved. “Is this… are you magic?”

Another laugh. You cringed, a steady pain already starting to form in the back of your skull. “It’s just a snare. A normal one, not cursed or anything,” He explained, waving his free hand through the air nonchalantly. “Humans don’t tend to mix well with anything supernatural. I’ve tried before, but then you always start screaming and panicking, and if that doesn’t kill you, the way your bodies interact with it usually will.” He paused, stopping to think. “Am I magic? I never thought to ask, and now he’s gone… If I can use it, does that mean--”

“Who are you?” You cut him off before he could go on. You had a feeling he’d never be quiet, if you let him ramble. “Let’s start with that. Who are you, and when are you going to let me go?”

“I’m Deku!” He was back to smiling, grinning too widely as he pushed himself to his feet. The spinning continued, but Deku didn’t seem opposed to following in your unwanted tracks, walking in circles around you. Your body felt heavy, your head beginning to ache, his introduction barely audible over the blood rushing past your ears. “I guess you could call me a guardian spirit. That’s why I do, really, I guard things. See, this part of the forest is special.” He stopped walking, but you didn’t have to see him. You could feel his eyes burning into you, regardless of where he was. “Dirty little humans aren’t supposed to come here.”

You opened your mouth, something between a defensive insult and an apology playing on your tongue, but Deku didn’t give you the chance, catching your ankle and driving his nails, no, talons into your skin, so much sharper than they seemed to be, last time he made contact. Like those of a predator. A mountain cat. “You understand that this is bad, right? You did something very, very wrong. You wandered into someplace sacred, and you disgraced it.” His fist flexed, pointed tips prodding further, deeper. Blood began to drip from the wound, but your feet were so numb, you could barely feel it. You didn’t want to feel it. “I should kill you. I should torture you. Maybe an agonizing death would be enough to make up for the intrusion.”

You were silent, for a moment, but the true levity of your situation hit you abruptly, as forceful as an oncoming freight train. A God, a man, a satyr, something had strung you up, knocked you unconscious, and was spouting off threats he didn’t seem opposed to carrying out. You might’ve cried, if the pressure on your eye-sockets hadn’t been so crushing. “Please.” You weren’t thinking. You couldn’t think. Not when you’d been in such a compromising position for so long. “Please, I don’t want to die. It… it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry--”

“’Please don’t kill me, Deku. I’m so sorry, Deku, I won’t do it ever again!’ That’s what they all say.” He sighed, shaking his head. His teasing was light-hearted, comically high-pitched, but his exasperation was genuine. Dark. “Want to know how many times I’ve heard that? Thousands. And how often do you think it works?”

He let you go, tearing his claws from your flesh. You whimpered, and his smile broadened. “N-never.”

“Never.” He reached down, tapping the end of your nose as a faux-reward. “Good mortal. But, that’s not going to happen to you.”

Hope bubbled up in your chest, boiling over before you could push it back down. “Thank you, thank you, I didn’t-”

“It won’t be what happened to you, if you do as I say.” He kneeled in front of you, taking hold of your jaw and forcing you to meet his eyes. You could’ve avoided it, if you tried, but it was all you could do to stay focused on anything. Those black, beady eyes made a good target. “Come back to my temple with me, and don’t struggle. I can’t let you leave, not once you’ve entered, and I won’t tolerate disobedience. I’d hate to have to flay you after I’ve promised not to.”

You blinked, your frown returning as quickly as it’d disappeared. You didn’t remember how you’d gotten here or why you were alone, but you knew you shouldn’t stay. The sun had gone down, by now, and the air was growing colder by the second. You didn’t want to see just how inhospitable the environment could get. “Your temple?” You asked, meekly. “I… But, my family, and my friends, they’ll be--”

“Or, I could leave you here. We’ve got a few unique animals here. They’re a little more confident than the bears and wolves you’re used to.” As soon as he finished, a howl echoed through the woods, loud and scratchy and primal. Several more followed, as if on cue, and Deku nodded in their direction. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say they enjoy having a meal that can struggle. It makes it more fun to tear apart, right?”

You didn’t respond, falling silent and thinking it over. Deku shifted, moonlight catching on fangs you swore hadn’t been there a moment ago, and you nodded before you could decide against it.

You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be trapped. You didn’t want to be anywhere near Deku.

But, the pulse beating violently inside your head and black spots eagerly invading your vision reminded you of something more important. Something you needed.

They made you remember how much you desperately wanted to stop spinning.

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theramseyloft · 4 years

Note

what the story behind kou?

I have been the columbid specialist volunteer for the local wildlife rehab for almost as long as I have had doves.

Most of what they got in were orphaned or injured Mourning and Collared doves, so I primarily fostered the Mourning pweeps for soft release and found homes for the collared doves.

Feral pigeons didn’t come in as often, but my specialization in hand rearing columbids meant those came to me too.

This is 5 week old Ankhou next to a two week old mourning dove the day we got them.

Some kind soul saw him running circles around the base of a lamp post in a parking lot, screaming for parents who were anxiously watching him, but has no way to get him off the ground to safety.

Instead of leaving him, they scooped him up and rushed him to Highland’s wildlife center, who immediately called me to come get him.

For reference, the Billboard Babies, Dodger and Alex, were 5 weeks old when they arrived.

This is what Ankhou SHOULD have looked like.

But his parents simply had not been able to find enough to feed him.

This is him the same day after his first meal.

You can see down on his head in that photo, meaning that he didn’t lose those feathers he’s missing.

He is so emaciated that his body had to prioritize growing bones over growing feathers because he simply did not have the building materials to produce both at the same time.

Here he is a week later, and you can just see him finally getting some pins on his wee head.

We had ankhou before we had the incubator, so he spent a lot of time on me to stay warm.

As he grew, I talked him through everything like a toddler.

I had read this study on Pigeon cognition pointing out that they learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as human children.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

And I was curious to see if that could be done in real time by supplying him the names of objects he was looking at or interacting with, describing his actions, asking about his mood, and describing mine.

To my surprise and delight, he started responding logically to sentences directed at him in such a way that I could tell which words registered correctly and which ones didn’t quite mean anything to him yet.

He has a rudimentary capacity to answer yes or no questions, and understands pretty abstract concepts like help, apology, and consent.

Along with language, though, he was picking up on my behavior patterns.

A little back ground...

I am an autistic woman with ADHD, PTSD, and pretty severe general anxiety.

Those last two things largely from a long history of systematic physical and emotional abuse by my parents, guardians, and peers.

I am nonverbal most of the time because I don’t think in words. I think in pictures, sounds, and sensations and have to manually translate them into words before I can verbally articulate them.

Under sufficient duress, my throat physically closes, and I can’t mechanically speak.

I can usually type or write fine under that circumstance, but if something distresses me enough beyond that point, my connection to language severs completely and I no longer have access to my proverbial internal word bank.

At that point, I understand actions and tone of voice, and that is it.

The problem is that I can’t tell when I am bordering that state of shut down, so, from my perspective, I can be out in public and suddenly just cease to function with no warning or discernible cause.

Ankhou is practically hard wired to pick up on my tells.

And me shutting down freaks him right tf out.

So he has two levels of alerts he taught himself to perform.

If I’m getting stressed at a rapid level, he will sit on my shoulder or knee and lean against my cheek or hand.

That’s my cue to stop what I’m dong to pet him and do my breathing exercises and practice mindful self evaluation.

Standing on my chest to stare me in the face is a much more urgent warning that I will shut down in the next 20-45 seconds, so I need to find a quiet place out of the way to sit down and focus on the softness of his feathers and my breathing exercises.

If he could not get to me before shut down, he will fuss with my hands until I move one, then bunt under it like a little feathered cat.

If he can get me to stroke him, that’s usually step one towards bringing me back down and getting me to where I can function.

He will lose interest and go do his own thing when I’m back to base line.

When we’re out in public, that usually means he leans to ask me to bring him closer to something he wants to look at.

He knows the difference between physically tired, shut down, and crashing from a blood sugar spike, which all look the same from the outside, and all feel the same to me.

If I’m crashing, he just will NOT let me fall asleep. What ever that takes.

Usually biting me in increasingly sensitive places until something rouses me.

If nothing does, he does looking for my husband or house mates and pitches an absolute fit until some one comes and checks on me.

Our training program here at the Ramsey Loft is designed around what we learned from the practical applications of all the studies I have read on pigeon cognition to communication with Ankhou.

It’s pretty much a constant shifting of applying every new thing we learn based on “What do I wish I had known when Ankhou was this age?”

Unfortunately, only a dog, or in some place a miniature horse can have the legal distinction of Service Animal.

But pigeons are uniquely suited because of their natural sociology and cognition to a wide variety of mental illness specific service and therapy work, so we are researching to try to eventually get the laws changed to include pigeons as potential Service Animals.

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eirenical · 3 years

Note

1 and 2 for the writing meta prompt please!

Thank you, @flamingwell

[If anyone else would like to send questions, here is the list. ^_^]

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Oooooooh boy. Well, I have quite a few. XD So, how about we just go through the ones I have actively open in Word right now?

Legacies Found: The Untamed, sequel to Legacies Lost. This is a giant canon divergent AU that I've been working on for well over a year at this point. There is one key thing that I changed (and in the interest of spoilers, I'm not going to say what, but if you're curious and don't mind spoilers then, by all means, come ask and I'll tell you all about it. ;D) and it affected everything in-universe, some for the better, some for the worse. Here's the AO3 summary:

Sixteen years ago, the Yiling Patriarch died, a victim to his own hubris and the Yin Tiger Seal. Hundreds of cultivators from many different sects died with him that day, their souls forever doomed to find no rest, even in death. On this, the 16th anniversary of the battle of Qiongqi Pass, Jin Ling is determined to make pilgrimage, to try to put the spirit of his long-lost father to rest. He finds much more than he bargained for, and what he finds… will change everything.

And in the sequel, things have progressed significantly from this point, but the people involved are still broken in various ways, not quite at the point of healing yet, but getting there. The plot is opening up to the wider world and new characters are going to be introduced, and I'm having a lot of fun writing it, but it is SO MUCH SLOWER GOING. OTZ

Mirror, Mirror: I talked about this one extensively in this post, and it hasn't really progressed any further from there. XD This is a Guardian AU based on a short film that Zhu Yilong did with Li Bingbing called "Into the Mirror" (there's a link in the other post).

Reclamation: *eg* For anyone who's been following my Whumptober series (yes, I know we're WELL past October OTZ) of fics that I've been writing for Granting You a Dreamlike Life, this is the latest in the series. This monster is already almost 18K words and it's... it's a LOT. The story is a canon-divergent AU that starts out mostly overlapping canon during episode 35 and begins to diverge somewhere between there and episode 36. I leaned REALLY hard into the whump on this one, went really self-indulgent and wrote the fic that I would most want to read for this fandom, because I was pretty damned sure that no one else would write it or would take it as far and as dark as I wanted it to go if they did. And this particular story is the darkest of the bunch so far. ^_~ I'm not going to link directly to this one, because this is definitely a HEED THE TAGS situation, but if anyone's interested in some really, REALLY dark GYADL fic... hit me up and I'll be happy to tell you more. ^_^ (And for those who just want to look for themselves, you can find it under #eirenical does whumptober or on my AO3 where the series name is "Indefinitely." ^_^)

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I think I've talked enough about my current projects, so how about some future projects for this one? ^_^

(...and how about under a cut because this is getting kind of long...)

The Lost Tomb Reboot

I have... several fic at the plotty stage for TLTR, and I just added a new one to the list this morning. XD

Ershu fic: So, for anyone who's been following my TLTR journey, you know I'm obsessed with Ershu. I LOVE HIM. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. And you know what happens when I love a character, right? Right? I WANT TO BREAK THEM. *coughs* Anyway, something happens to Ershu in S2 of TLTR that I won't go into detail about because spoilers, but essentially, he's betrayed and ends up in the hands of the person who betrayed him with no one else being the wiser and with him helpless and unable to tell anyone. And there are just... all KINDS of dark, fucked up possibilities there, and just like the Whumptober series, I AM going to write that fic, even if no one but me ends up reading it. ;D

Probably post-canon domestic bliss fic: For those of you who enjoy WHIPLASH ;D, I just honestly want ALL THE SOFT DOMESTIC IRON TRIANGLE. ALL OF IT. And I want Wu Xie and Ershu to have an opportunity to sit down and actually TALK about things (e.g., their need for a family heir), instead of trying to one-up each other. Special appearances by all the ducklings, Xiao Bai's girlfriend, and Lia Jiale and Jia Kezi (...my fic, my rules, we ignore canon when we want to ^_^) having an ...oh moment, and sweet, soft cuddles for Liu Sang and Kan Jian because they're adorable and I love them, too. (I have no idea if this is all going in one fic or if it will be a series of slice of life things, but I just want everyone to get their happily ever after IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK???)

Post-canon Huo Daofu and Xiao Ge... time-sharing Wu Xie?: IDEK what to call what's going on here, but... yeah. XD (See, @elenothar, I haven't forgotten! ;D) To crib from another post... I really do think that Xiao ge loves Wu Xie and loves being with him and all that that entails, but that he gets… restless. A little feral cat, if you will. And he just needs to wander off and be on his own for a while sometimes. And I would love to see a permutation where it’s just kind of understood that he and Huo Daofu just kind of… share Wu Xie. ^_^ Not in a threesome way, but in a way that they both understand each other’s claim on Wu Xie and neither of them wants him to be alone, so they just kind of… work that out between them. Like he's a time share. (OMG, I have to be careful of how often I use that phrase for this fic or I'm going to end up calling it that as a title. XD)

DMBJ x Highlander xover that I just came up with literally this morning: No, seriously, this LITERALLY just popped into my head as I was waking up this morning. It was a wild fucking ride, too. O_o;;; ANYWAY, I'm probably going to make a separate headcanon/plotty post for this one, but basically I just randomly woke up thinking... Duncan was an antique dealer in the late 80s/early 90s in the US. Wu Xie is an antique dealer in China, now, and his family has been involved in the antique trade for a... VERY long time. Maybe Duncan did some business with the Wu family. Maybe he met Wu Xie as a kid. Maybe he knew Xiao ge even EARLIER than that (like 100 years earlier). Maybe post-canon Highlander, Duncan starts getting back into the antique trade by helping to quietly repatriate artifacts and comes to China to deal with the Wu family to do that, and meets Wu Xie again... and Xiao ge. And has a WTF moment because Xiao ge ISN'T an Immortal like he is, but he doesn't look a day older than when they met 100 years ago and just... WTF?? And Wu Xie is looking at Duncan and looking at Xiao ge and having a WTF moment of his own because is EVERYONE immortal except him and Pangzi?? And... I just think that would be a lot of fun to play with. ;D

Guardian:

The Care and Training of a Former Megalomaniac V and VI, maybe?: OK, so this idea isn't really concrete, but I still want to play with it. I want to do something to tackle Ye Zun's past with the Rebel Leader and the trauma that that left behind, and I'm thinking he'll end up having a good (...drunk) talk with Da Qing about it.

Another idea I had (MUCH more concrete) was based off my own poor lazy bb. He LOVES to catch bugs. LOVES IT. He gets SO EXCITED and SO into it... but sometimes the bugs fly up to the ceiling. And Gabriel is comfy in my lap and doesn't want to move. So he will swat at the bug... halfheartedly. And then he will turn around and complain to me when it won't come down to be swatted at again. Like I can somehow make it come down so he can play with it? IDEK. XD ANYWAY. I had a vivid mental image of Da Qing doing this to Ye Zun and somehow convincing him to actually... bring the bug down. Using his powers. And someone at the SID detects Ye Zun using his powers so ZYL and SW race home... to find Ye Zun... using his powers... to tether bugs for Da Qing to play with. And I just think that would be hilarious. XD

...I think that's everything in the mental kiddy right now? XD

#ask meme answers #meta asks for writers meme #flamingwell #eirenical writes things #plot bunnies #guardian #the lost tomb reboot #dmbj x highlander au #i should start tagging that #granting you a dreamlike life #eirenical does whumptober #notes: legacies found #notes: legacies lost #eirenical does whumptober 2020

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redstarwriting · 4 years

Text

Period Pain (2nd Edition)

Avengers x Reader(s)

Request: “This is a specific request but could I have a story where the reader has their period (A bad one, heavy and painful) and the Avengers (Anyones you want) take care of them. Please make it extra fluffy.”

Word Count: 2,759

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: swearing, period, mention of Ibuprofen

A/N: The first one of these did Really Well so I decided to write for the rest of the people I didn’t write about. I still have to do the Guardians, Loki, Valkyrie, and Carol, so keep your eyes out for those ones, too! I hope you enjoy this one!

───────────────────────────────────

Mother Nature must really hate you. You can’t move, your cramps are restricting you from functioning like a normal human being. The only time you got up today was to go to the bathroom to make sure you didn’t ruin your clothes and the sheets. You’ve been curled up in a ball for the past many hours, and even snapped at your significant other earlier. You feel bad deep down inside, but the pain you’re feeling overrides your remorse right now. You’re in the middle of your self loathing and hating being a female when in walks…

…Rhodey.

He walks slowly and quietly, making his way over to your bathroom. “Why the fuck are you walking like I’m a feral animal that will literally leap up and maul you to death if you make a sudden movement you fucking weird ass?” you say, louder than intended. He freezes, looking at you. “Did you not hear what you just said? How you just said it?”

“I did. Your point?”

“I just proved my-”

“What are you doing, James?” you look at him, your expression completely unamused. He’s actually quite scared and begins rethinking the idea he had. But he clears his throat and straightens his back. “I was just going to run you a bath so you can relax a little. I heard heat helps with the… girl pains?” You stare at him, raising your eyebrows. “They’re called cramps,” you say, and he smiles apologetically. “I heard heat helps with the cramps,” he repeats, and to his surprise, you smile. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?” He gapes at you, amazed at how your mood went from bloodthirsty to loving that quickly. “I try my hardest?” he replies, obviously very confused. “Let me know when everything’s ready, okay?” You sound very excited and happy and he smiles at you, “Of course.”

…Pietro.

Well, it’s more like you see a flash of blue, then have a weighted blanket covering you, then nothing. About two minutes pass before you see the flash again, and a heating pad is next to you on your bed. Then after another two minutes, some chocolate and your favorite food gets plopped down on your nightstand. You appreciate everything your dear loving boyfriend is doing, but goddamnit. Can he stay still? You just want him to hug you and stop. Moving. For. Once.

Before you know it, he’s sprinting in the room again, and you announce his name loudly, and it is quite possibly the fastest you ever said anything in your life. Much to your surprise and happiness he stops dead in his tracks. You can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face and the four bottles of water with a container of Ibuprofen in his hands. “Why are you running around like that?”

“Well, uh… you see…” he begins, slowly setting the things in his hands down next to the food he brought. “I know you are on your period right now and having a sister I know what that can entail,” he starts, and you stare at him with an amused expression. “Uh-huh…”

“And, well, I know what helps Wanda, but I do not know what helps you. So… I asked Wanda what I should do and now I am… doing all of what she suggested along with a google search. But I did not own all of the things I wanted to get for you, so I have been running back and forth from the store this whole time. Also, you are scary when you are mad. Especially when you are mad at me,” he finishes, and you burst into laughter. “Pietro, that’s adorable. Also, I was only mad at you because you gave me a reason to be mad at you. So, don’t give me another reason,” you say, and he smiles. His smile, however, turns quickly to a scared expression as he hears you say, “Now if you don’t get into this bed and cuddle with me and don’t leave, then I’ll be pissed!”

He has your favorite cookies baking in the oven. What is he supposed to do now?

…Stephen.

“I brought you some more Ibuprofen,” he says, walking over and setting it down next to you. “I hope it helps.” You glare at the back of his head as he leaves the room again. Dealing with this with medicine and heating pads works, yes, but you’d much rather have the warmth radiating off of Stephen’s body to make you feel better. Sadly, it doesn’t look like that’s about to happen.

He may be book smart as all hell, but boy is he dumb when it comes to dealing with literally anything else. He of course tries, but he is so clueless sometimes. This is one of those times. He knows that certain over the counter medicines will lessen your cramps, and that typically applying heat also helps with the pain that accompanies one of your organs genuinely attempting suicide inside of your body, but he really doesn’t know what to do to actually comfort you. He of course thought of laying down with you, holding you until you felt better. However, that wouldn’t be very efficient for him. He needs to make sure the universe doesn’t implode, after all. He can tell, though, that all you want is for him to be around because of the way you’ve been snapping at him all day. Luckily, he thought of another plan that he hoped would work.

You sigh into your pillow, the pain nowhere near stopping when suddenly you feel quite the cozy sensation. You turn your head, curious as to what just wrapped around your body, when you get a big whiff of your boyfriend. You giggle, realizing that the Cloak of Levitation has just wrapped you up in a little burrito. “Cloak, what are you doing?” you say, amused. That’s when a note appears next to you, and you pick it up. “Dear (Y/N), I really do wish I could keep you company right now and make you feel better, but I have quite the workload right now. Instead, I sent Cloak. I hope that’s okay for now, if I get any free time I’ll be there. I love you, Stephen.”

You smile to yourself. As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you couldn’t be. He was really busy after all, and the fact that he did think about how you felt was enough for you to know that he wasn’t as stupid as he seemed. Oh, and he did get some free time, but he didn’t want to interrupt yours and Cloak’s little nap. He just took a lot of pictures.

…Scott.

“I was thinking, maybe I can shrink up and go inside of you and see just how bad this uterus is acting and then give it a stern talking to,” he says, trying to lighten your mood by joking around. You think. He’s not serious right? “You’re not serious, right?” you ask, just to be positive that he wasn’t being a dumbass this time. “Oh no, your brain must be suffering from blood loss. Your humor is fading! Whatever shall I do?! Oh, what a cruel, cruel world,” he drops down to his knees, beginning to fake cry which causes you to giggle at him. “Calm down, Scott, my humor isn’t going anywhere. I just honestly never know when you’re being serious,” you tell him, and he gives you a grin. “Well, I can’t blame you there. I do have something that will cheer you up though.”

You give him a questioning look when all of a sudden Cassie runs into the room, hopping up next to you in bed. You smile as she snuggles into your side, giggling the whole time. “Hey there sweetie,” you say as Scot takes a seat on the bed next to Cassie, sandwiching her in between you two. “She’s been asking for hours to watch a movie, I kinda figured it would be better if all three of us watched it instead of just me and her.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say and hear Cassie shout a “yeah” in agreement. You and Scott chuckle at her reaction before he picks up the remote to the TV in your room, scrolling through Disney+ to find the right movie.

…Peter.

Well it’s more like he came through your window. “Karen said that I should get you these things,” he starts saying as soon as he touches down in your room. You glance over to his right arm full of medicine, a heating pad, lots of chocolate, and various feminine hygiene products. “I didn’t know which… things… you used so I bought all of the ones that I could carry, I hope that’s okay. Oh, and uh… I brought a lot of chocolate! I don’t really know why Karen said it might help, do you know why it helps? I mean, I obviously wasn’t like, ’No Karen, I don’t see how chocolate could help anyone in this situation,’ because I mean I don’t really know anything when it comes to this stuff but Karen’s a computer, so obviously she would know. Oh yeah, I brought a heating pad! Heat helps right? Or is this one of those things hear heat helps sometimes but the cold helps other times, oh crap, should I have gotten Icy Hot instead? I was right there next to it when I got all this other medicine… God I’m so stup-”

“Peter!” you make him stop rambling and one of the medicine bottles he’s holding falls out of his grip, and when he tries to save it, the rest fall. You laugh at his floundering to pick everything he just dropped back up. He rips off his mask and sighs. “I was just trying to help, you know. A now it’s all on the ground and-“

“Pete, just because you dropped it doesn’t mean it’s all useless.”

“I know, I know, I was just supposed to come in here all heroic and be like, ‘I’ve brought you what you need to feel better!’ and now it’s just…. it’s on the floor,” he says, and the disappointment in his voice is only the more endearing. “C’mere, Pete,” you say, opening. your arms so he can come hug you. “I’m all sweaty, (Y/N/N),” he mumbles, and you roll your eyes. “I need to take a shower anyways Peter, right now I just want cuddles,” you say, and lay on the puppy dog eyes. Those make him ridiculously weak to you. He just grins and jumps into bed next to you. You used the things he got you, but only after Peter himself made you feel exponentially better.

…Miles.

“Knock knock,” he says, walking into your room holding a stack of comic books. “Miles, why do you have so many comics?” you ask, turning to look at him. “Well, I know you have all the things you need to feel better with this whole… bleeding… thing?”

“This is true, I am prepared.”

“I know, but I figured the one thing you don’t have that you’d want is some good ‘ol Mile Morales loving. I also know that you kinda like the sound of my voice, even when you yell at me, so I decided I’d bring these comics and read them out loud. Oh, we can also play a little game where I describe the picture to you and you can tell me if it’s any good or not, I thought that might, y’know, take your mind off the pain,” he says, walking over to you and plopping down on the bed. “Miles I don’t think this bed is big enough for the two of us,” you say, but before you can even attempt to tell him to use your computer chair, he picks you up and moves you so you’re lying on top of him in a very comfortable position. The warmth radiating off of his body also makes you feel a little bit better. “Oh, okay, well this works perfectly,” you mumble nuzzling your face in his chest. You can feel the vibrations through his body as he laughs at you.

“Sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you say, and he just smiles. “It’s okay, I know how unbearable I can be at times,” he jokes, and you grin. “Now, how about I start with… well uh… I have a lot so…” he trails off, holding up all the comics he brought so you can see them. “which one of these is your favorite…?”

…Gwen.

“Do you wanna bang on my drums? Banging on my drums helps me,” she says, leaning against your door frame. You roll your eyes and throw a pillow at her to which she catches in one hand and tosses back. “I think you should bang on my drums,” she says again, and you sigh. “Gwen, baby, even if I wanted to do that, I can’t move. My uterus is really trying to end itself right now, and I swear if it doesn’t succeed, I will end its life for it by ending my own.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the edgy one in this relationship. Are you coming for my brand right now?” she asks, walking over to you. You narrow your eyes at her, causing her to grin and sit at the foot of your bed. “Okay, well, how about this. The newest season of that true crime show came out today…”

“No fucking way, I thought it was supposed to come out Friday?”

“It was, but then they said, ‘fuck it, let’s release it early.’ And I got all of my homework done. So, I’m totally free to sit back, rub your stomach, and get my fill of murderers and how corrupt bad police officers are. What do you say?” she gives you a sincere smile, which causes one to break out across your face as well. “Come here, woman.”

…T’Challa.

“Can I just say I have fought many a warrior, but you are the most ferocious person I have ever met,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Is this because you were being annoying earlier and I let you know that you were being annoying earlier?” you snap again, and he points at you. “There it was. Terrifying.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him. The truth is he wasn’t doing anything annoying at all. You just really wanted him to stay with you for an hour or two and make you feel better with his presence, but he had some “Kingly duties” he had to attend to, so you’ve been alone. Dying.

“I have finished what I had to do today, you know,” he says, and you roll back over to face him again. “Oh really?” He chuckles at your immediate response and nods, walking into your shared room. “Yes, it seems I am completely free for the rest of the day. I have no idea what to do, honestly. I guess I’ll just-”

“Just stay here in bed with me? Yeah, damn right you will. Get over here yOuR hIgHnEsS,” you say, quite obviously laying the sarcasm on your highness to which he smiles at. The rest of the day was spent with the two of you just talking and you eventually falling asleep in his arms as he told you stories about when he was younger.

…Shuri.

“Even though you can be a bitch on your period I invented a new kind of heating pad for you because you are a spoiled brat, you know that right?” she says, walking over to you and dropping down the heating pad next to you. You give her a cheesy smile before thanking her and picking up this new heating pad. “The way it works is that it adjusts to your cramp pain. I’ve put a censor in it that can detect how severe the cramps are and then it administers heat accordingly. Also, you don’t have to worry about it catching on fire or anything, if it begins overheating it automatically turns off.”

“How did I end up with the best and brightest girlfriend of all time?” you ask, placing the pad on your stomach and letting your girlfriend’s technology take it from there. “Because she took pity on you,” she responds, and you laugh. She rolls her eyes, but a smile appears on her face none-the-less and she begins walking out of the room again. “Excuse me, but where do you think you are going?” you ask her and she turns to you, raising her eyebrows. “I am going to get us some ice cream so we can relax for a little bit. Is this a problem, princess?”

“Hey now, you’re the princess, I’m just your girlfriend. And no, carry on. Me and your dope ass heating pad will be waiting for you when you get back.”

“Mhm,” she says, and walks out of the room mumbling something about how you’re too spoiled, when in reality, you’re just the luckiest person in the world.

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt79

So again sorry for the plot bunny, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going with it either.

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Marinette felt the transformation drop and her mind went completely blank for a moment. She felt Discorde and Viperion hold on to her and ended up with an arm around each while they used their arms like a chair for her. . None of the other heroes noticed since they were still shouting at one another. It took her a moment to notice the new person in front of her.

The woman looked to be in her late twenties and about Chloe’s height. Her hair was black with red highlights. The outfit she wore seemed extremely familiar. The dress was a sort of tiger stripe pattern only with red instead of orange and jagged edges. Her thigh high boots were red until the knees and gray after that. It wasn’t until she saw the pink tulle under the skirt that she realized it was an outfit she’d designed but never made. When the woman stopped glaring at Superman to lock eyes with Marinette she felt her breath catch as she looked into clear blue eyes.

“Tikki?” She felt Discorde and Viperion start in surprise but couldn’t take her eyes off the woman giving her a gentle smile.

“Plagg had his fun, now it’s my turn.”

“I shouldn’t have put the Miracle Box in my Yoyo.” Tikki just grinned at her and Marinette groaned internally. By forcing her to detransform with the box still inside, Tikki was able to tap into the energy from that realm making them much more powerful. Tikki just grinned at her before turning to face the Justice League.

“I think we should have popcorn for this.” Robin’s voice only got an eye roll as she focused on her Kwami. She had no idea what Tikki was up to but the fact that they took human form said it was big.

“That’s enough!” Tikki’s voice was lower than normal and echoed around the room becoming louder until everyone shut up. Then it just stopped. “I find it rather amusing that you’re so hung up on my Chosen’s age when you all insist on acting like children.”

“How dare you--” Tikki snapped their fingers and Superman was cut off by what looked like a metal plate sealing his mouth shut.

“You really need to learn some manners. Now it’s time for you all to listen.” No one spoke and Tikki gave a satisfied smile. “Better. First things first. I want you all to take a good long look at my Chosen and Guardian of the Miraculous.” Marinette felt everyone’s eyes on her and had to fight the urge to make herself smaller. Instead she held her head high while they studied her.

“I still see nothing but an incompetent child.” Tikki snapped her fingers again and Green Lantern met the same fate as Superman.

“If I want your input, I’ll ask for it.” Tikki gave them a bright smile that was honestly a bit creepy. “That child has been protecting Paris almost on her own for two years. During the final confrontation with Hawkmoth that child gave up the ability to walk in order to end his reign of terror. While you’ve all done nothing but make her job more complicated, she’s been working tirelessly to bring down a lunatic. The next one of you that demeans her will feel the full force of Discorde’s wrath and I won’t reverse the damage.”

Quite a few members paled at that threat and Marinette glanced over to see a rather manic smile on her girlfriend’s face. She shuddered at the thought of what she might do. Everyone was completely silent as Tikki let that thought settle.

“Still, you can’t expect us to leave such powerful artifacts in the hands of children.” Tikki narrowed her eyes at Martian Manhunter before offering another fake smile.

“I am a god older than the universe itself. They may be young but we are not.” Marinette could see the hero hesitate and winced when he finally decided to speak.

“Your will is bound to the Miraculous. The children are the ones in charge and should the Miraculous fall into the wrong hands your power becomes a liability.” Tikki studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“You’re all far too concerned with age but I suppose we could fix that if it will make you feel better.” Marinette shared confused looks with her team. How was Tikki planning on fixing them being kids? Most of the League members looked just as confused but Wonder Woman was frowning in thought.

“What exactly do you plan to fix?” The words sounded like they were being dragged out of the hero that seemed to have become their spokesman. Tikki’s smile turned condescending.

“Your problem is with my Chosen’s age, not experience or intelligence as would be at least more appropriate. As such,” they snapped their fingers again and suddenly four more twenty something’s appeared behind her. “I present you with guardians for the Guardian.”

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

Discorde studied the four new people with annoyance. It was her job to protect Mari and these interlopers weren’t wanted. She was a bit confused when she felt Plagg trying to soothe her.

The four of them were all completely different. On either side of Tikki were a man and woman. One man was wearing an all black designer suit. His shirt, tie, and all other accessories were the same shade as well. His hair was even darker somehow. Next to him was a woman in a white sundress and sandals. Her hair was blonde but gave the impression of sunlight. They were both the same height as Tikki. Both also had one green eye and one brown, but on opposite sides.

On Tikki’s other side was a man at least seven foot tall. He was wearing brown khakis and a blue, short sleeve button up. Both looked starched and pressed to perfection. His brown hair was buzzed on the sides and he gave off a decidedly special forces vibe. His arm rested on the head of the woman next to him who couldn’t be more than five foot tall. She was in full steampunk gear. For their eyes each had one vibrant blue and one gray that reminded Discorde of storm clouds. Again on opposite sides. The longer her gaze rested on the short woman the louder Plagg’s giggling got in her head.

“And who are they exactly? The last thing we need is more amateurs in the field.” Tikki’s grin turned feral. She gestured the pair with green and brown eyes forward.

“Allow me to introduce you. This is Jett, Kwami of Darkness and Primm, Kwami of Light.” He bowed and she curtsied before Tikki waved the other two forward. “And this is Digg, Kwami of Order and Lyccen, Kwami of Anarchy. They are not bound to Miraculous and as such aren’t liabilities like the rest of us.” Having his words thrown back at him seemed to shut him up for the moment but Superman started making exaggerated gestures. Tikki let out an annoyed sigh before snapping again and removing the gags from him and Green Lantern.

“You can’t just release entities like that on this plane with no way to control them!” All five of the Kwami rolled their eyes.

“First, giving them human forms limits their powers, much like the Miraculous do. Second, control was your major objection to the rest of us. Third, if they become a problem it’s a simple fix. I created their bodies so Plagg can destroy them.” Everyone in the room flinched except the Kwami themselves.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

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#maribat #marinette dupen chang #Damian Wayne #bffmaridami

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third-rail-vip · 4 years

Photo

Complicated

Summary:

It’d be killing two birds with one stone, she’d said. MacCready glared at the crinkled, blackened leaves of the fern sticking out of his duster pocket. His duster, which like the rest of him, was currently chest deep in stinking marsh water, facing a cluster of ferals.

Ivy and MacCready's trip to take on the Gunners is stopped in its tracks by a poor judged detour. Mac gets hurt, but he's never been very good at being cared for.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5625 [AO3 link] [Then I Met You - Series Link]

Mud-clouded, irradiated marsh water burned into his nose, filled his throat, and tried to force its way into his lungs.

And as if drowning wasn’t bad enough, a close second in the ranking of bad-to-worse was the gouging pain of claw-like nails burying themselves deep into his back, forcing him under water as they tried to tear chunks out of him.

A dull thought overtook him as the last of the breath left his lungs; he was going to die here.

--x--

The chill of cold water was replaced by a brief but biting gust of wind as a door clicked shut. MacCready stirred, floorboards shifted as he flexed his back and shoulders, which turned out to be the worst idea he could have possibly had - pain radiated from his left shoulder like fracturing glass.

He hissed through his teeth, taking a sharp breath in and sending a fresh wave across his body, briefly reigniting the burning sensation in his lungs. Waking up from a nightmare was supposed to be a relief, not just another chapter of discomfort.

MacCready kept his eyes scrunched closed. There was light beyond the barrier of his eyelids, low but warm. If it hadn’t been for the dull headache starting to tap away between his eyes like water torture, it might even have been welcoming.

“Shhh, shh, shh,” a voice murmured close by. “You’re okay.”

First things first, when you woke up somewhere strange, it was always best to keep your eyes shut. There was a lot you could learn when people didn’t know you were awake. Things that could keep you alive if you weren’t somewhere safe.

He took a breath in through his nose; the cold December breeze cut through the old damp scent of the room, it carried with it the smell of vegetables (tatos probably) and manure – he grimaced, trying to hide the expression of regret at his deep inhale. So, it was a farm. He listened carefully, the lows of brahmin and the quiet chatter of voices confirmed enough for him – the only danger he faced here was boredom.

As his apprehension dwindled further, he realised it was Ivy’s voice offering the soft reassurances – of course it was – and he could only assume it was her who’d just gently brushed his hair back from his sweat-damp forehead. The tender motion would be enough to lull him back to sleep if he let it, but he wasn’t ready to be drowning in his mind again, or to watch Lucy pulled to pieces, or to be yelling for his missing partner. No, it was time to wake up.

His vision was blurry when he eventually peeked his eyes open, the dull glow of an oil lantern was the only thing beating back the shadows of early evening. It’s illumination barely reached the wooden slatted ceiling he found himself staring up at.

He was laid on a mouldy old sleeping bag in a small room with broken windows, but that didn’t exactly narrow down locations when it came to the Commonwealth. Glancing out the window, the faint remnants of orange warming the darkness on the horizon told him the sun hadn’t long set.

Sat next to him, lantern light shafting through her hair and casting her face in shadow, was his partner. He smiled to himself at the halo effect doing its best to make her look like an angel – if angels sat there drinking Nuka-Cherry with a cute little crinkle on their nose from their patented ‘worry frown’.

Quick check for his other essentials; his sniper rifle was propped up in the corner by the lamp, which sat on the same small table as his hat. He reached up and patted his top pocket and felt the reassuring bulk of the toy soldier. Everything was where it should be.

“So, did I die or is this just my guardian angel coming to pay me a visit?” he croaked, with a throat drier than wasteland dirt.

“Hey you.” Ivy swiped the heel of her palm across her eye, before pushing a smile onto her lips and turning to look at him. “You had me worried there.”

Crap. He really did. That light tone didn’t hold any weight with him, he could hear the waver in her voice, see the tension in her smile. She’d hired him to make sure this kind of thing didn’t happen, but all it took was ferals and he was failing people all over again.

Now the light shone on her properly, the scratches on her face (earned in a fight he was nowhere near to help her with) put his heart into a vice-like grip.

They didn’t look as bad as before, there wasn’t blood all over her face anymore, for one thing. In fact, her hair was damp but back to it’s usual creamy white – no more essence of marsh water – and her rolled down vault suit showed she’d swapped into a clean tank top.

Come to think of it, when they’d arrived at Oberland Station it had only just been getting dark. Yes, he remembered where they were now - a cluster of shacks and a signal box huddled by the railroad tracks and surrounded by tato plants. He also remembered the welcoming committee, armed with pipe pistols and a whole heap of mistrust.

The pair of them had been caught off guard on the tracks, Ivy still in his arms – the vice tightened another twist. They were soaked, bleeding and, unless the settlers expected him to hurl his injured partner at them, they were unarmed.

He’d been about to give them the biggest f-ing piece of his mind, when the world that had started to spin around him, decided to turn out the lights.

“How long—”

“You’ve been out for a couple of hours.” Ivy hugged her knees to her chest and nodded to the IV he hadn’t even noticed in his arm. “You’re on your second bag.”

A bag of Radaway was hung up using the bedstead as a makeshift drip-stand. It had almost run through. On the ground nearby was another spent bag and an empty blood pack.

Shit. Well that would explain the headache, the dizziness and the nausea, not the mention the fever. There were only two things in the wasteland that’d do that to you; a whole heck of a lot of rads, or a couple of sips of Vadim’s moonshine.

“They let us stay, huh?” He hoped his smile could pass for something warmer than a grimace. “I wouldn’t have guessed from that reception.”

Ivy sighed and raised an eyebrow at his salty remark.

“Well, you passing out and dropping me like a sack of potatoes… tatos? Is there an equivalent?” She frowned for a second, adjusting the grip on her knees and shifting her weight to the other hip. “Anyway, I think it helped our case.”

Mac smiled. He liked her tangents, when her old world and his new one got jumbled up in her head and knocked her train of thought off the tracks. Her mental meanders had tested his patience back when they first met, but now he found it soothing to watch her puzzle things out.

Ivy leant forward and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. Her fingers were cool – a welcome relief he hadn’t realised he needed until they soothed some of the heat in his skin.

“Your temperature’s coming back down, at least.” The last of the Radaway had run its course, so she slipped the drip from his arm. “How are you feeling?”

MacCready sat up – big mistake. The room spun violently around him, dragging a sickening groan from his lips. If Ivy hadn’t been there to grab his arms and steady him, he’d have slumped back down onto the sleeping bag.

Fat lot of good he was doing anyone in this state! Those goddamn ferals. He wanted to scream. Or shoot something. Or have a cigarette. Where were his damn cigarettes?

But he needed to keep his shit together.

“I feel like a herd of brahmin stomped on my head,” he griped, hoping he could at least manage to make her laugh. “What do you think, doc? Am I going to make it?”

She wasn’t even looking at him - wide-eyed, she was staring at his shoulder. Ever so slowly, she reached out and peeled the sleeping bag away from where blood had soaked it to his shoulder. He couldn’t hold in the pained cry when she did it.

--x--

He lined up another shot, taking two down with one bullet – a very nicely placed double headshot. Ordinarily he’d be singing his own praises, but this whole mess had the potential to go bad real fast. One tackle from a feral and he’d lost the upper ground, got separated from his partner and cut off from any hope of an easy retreat.

Once-upon-a-time, taking out ferals had been child’s play. Literally. He’d been at it since he was 10. He’d perfected the art of anticipating their shambling, diving movements. Could line up a shot with barely a glance, the same way he took down raiders and greenskins these days – it came as naturally to him as a heartbeat.

It was no boast when he claimed to be the ‘best shot in the Commonwealth’. If you asked MacCready, he was a modern-day Robin-fucking-Hood – except the beggared of the commonwealth could keep their mitts off his caps.

That had all changed four years ago, at least with the ferals it had. Now he had to focus – there was no winging this shit. He had to tell his hands to stop shaking, to count his breaths so he even remembered to take them. Every time those things showed up he had to ride the line between fear and rage - which might have been useful if he was wielding a baseball bat, but it was no damn good for a sniper.

His finger was slick on the trigger, and as much as he wished he could just blame it on the water, his palms were sweating. He bungled his second shot, it only winged the racing creature.

This was goddamn nightmare fuel.

The third shot came from the walkway above him.

“I could have got it,” he snapped, more harshly than he meant to, but this shit had got him on edge.

“I know.” Ivy didn’t even bicker back at him.

She was scared. And alone.

But he’d thank anything that’d listen that she had a good eye - he admired the clean shot between the eyes of the feral before it sank beneath the water - and that her aim was getting better every day. The trouble would come if she got overwhelmed and he couldn’t get to her.

Hell of a lot of good he was doing down here.

The pair had taken on ferals before, but not in this number and he’d not left her side the whole time. This was different. There were so many - more rising up out of the water or scuttling across the rooftops at every turn. They were closer to the Glowing Sea here, but this was ridiculous. It was like someone had set up a feral summer camp and the damn things had waited for them to get right into the centre of town before attacking.

With barely a thought, he took down another feral as it rounded the corner ahead. It was easier if he just went on instinct, less time for thoughts of consequences - and the memories of old ones - to creep in.

MacCready patted his top pocket. Good, it was still there.

“I hate getting wet,” he moaned.

“I know.” Came the reply (after a few more gunshots), this time from a few roofs down, further back into the heart of the sunken village.

MacCready made to move forward in an attempt to keep pace with her, his feet dragging through deep silt. He’d barely made it a few yards before something heavy fell with a loud splash right behind him. He definitely didn’t have time to turn around before it was on him – teeth, nails, sheer weight dragging him down under the water.

--x--

“I’m so sorry.” Ivy’s voice was so small, her eyes were swimming when she looked at him. “I really fucked up.”

MacCready frowned, confused. It wasn’t her fault he’d bled all over the damn sleeping bag. The settlers would just have to get over it.

“I took us to that awful place and you got hurt,” her voice was growing more and more frantic until it finally cracked and tears spilled down her face. “When they dragged you under—”

Oh, Ives. Did she really think this was all her fault?

He leaned forward and caught the back of her neck, gently tugging her forwards until their foreheads touched. A startled gasp mingled with a sob when he did, her red-rimmed brown eyes looking straight into his brilliant blue gaze.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” he murmured. “Yeah, sh—stuff went wrong, but we made a heck of a team out there.”

“Mac, I thought I got you killed…”

This close together, with their gazes locked, even in that dark little room, he could see the scratch the knife had made down her eye. She must have come damn close to losing it. What kind of animal could do that to a sweetheart like her. He felt his temper bubbling up, but given it was 200 years too damn late, it was about as redundant as he’d been today.

“I’m a Capital Wasteland radroach,” he smiled, bumping the tip of his nose against hers. “It’ll take more than a few ferals to kill me.”

The words tasted like bile in the back of his throat, knowing they might well be true, but the same didn’t extend to the people he loved. But then, they weren’t for his benefit, and the intended recipient had almost laughed, which was definitely something.

“I am sorry tho—”

“Ah, ah. You saved my ass, angel. I’d be feral food if it wasn’t for you.”

It was true. It had been terrifyingly close.

Ivy bumped her nose against his before pulling away, shifting back into her spot against the wall, leaving him with an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. Her tears had dried up, and she wiped away the remaining trickles from her cheeks with the heel of her palm.

MacCready dug in his pants’ pocket for his cigarettes, pulling one out only to watch it flop and snap. He hated water.

His partner giggled when he looked across at her, a pathetic sight with his packet of ruined cigarettes. Then she laughed, really laughed. The tension from moments before finding its way out in nervous energy.

Ivy laughing - really laughing - was a joy.

First, she’d fight to hold it in, but you’d see it building in her eyes. Then the corners of her mouth would twitch, her lips desperately wanting to break open into a grin, so she’d catch it behind a hand - both if it was especially bad - like, if he couldn’t see the smile, he hadn’t won the game of making her laugh. Tears like diamonds flecked with mascara would form in the corners of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

He'd happily sit there with half a cigarette hanging off his bottom lip if he got to watch that sight.

Once her giggles had faded, she filled a cup with purified water for him. It’d be more soothing for his throat than a cigarette anyway, just not for his nerves. Regardless, he downed the water in one and held his cup back out for a refill, big blue eyes pleading the same way dogmeat did anytime they were cooking something tasty. Ivy obliged.

“How about I take a look at that shoulder now?”

Whether he’d like her to or not, she was already digging in her pack for antiseptic and filling a small basin with more purified water.

--x--

Removing MacCready’s coat and shirt turned out to be more of a challenge than they’d anticipated. The fabric of both were either caught in the wound or dried to his skin, and the attempted removal of them left him chewing on the back of his hand.

The pair of them sat hip-to-hip, the small of Ivy’s back resting against his knee as she focussed on her work. Outside he could Diamond City Radio playing quietly from somewhere in the settlement. It showed how hard his partner was concentrating that she wasn’t even humming along. He let the strains of Billie Holliday wash over him and tried to think about anything other than the pain in his shoulder.

“Mac?”

Ivy cast a quick glance MacCready’s way between strokes of the damp cloth she was using to stop the dried blood clinging to the fabric.

“Hmm?” He tried to sound casual, like he hadn’t just been counting the freckles on the bridge of her nose. 23.

“What does RJ stand for?” She treated him to the little hopeful smile she usually reserved for shopkeepers and potential employers.

“Where did that come from?”

“I just wondered.” And you thought it’d distract me from thinking about my shoulder trying to pull itself apart. “I can’t believe I’ve never gotten around to asking before.”

“Oh, you have.”

He grinned at the confusion dawning into a half-memory on her face. He’d been just sober enough to remember the second agreement they made on Halloween night, when they first met in Goodneighbor – one shot per question.

It’s no wonder she couldn’t remember though. Most of his memories, other than a few of her more outlandish questions, revolved around those big, bright, buzzed eyes.

They’d been sprawled on opposite sofas in The Third Rail, half a bottle of whiskey – which she obviously couldn’t handle – down and she’d just asked him (as one of the 20 questions he’d limited her to) what the meaning of life was. He’d told her to shut up and drink. Then she’d tried for his name with so much mischief in those eyes and a smirk on her lips that he’d never quite been able to take his eyes off since.

“And I’ll tell you now, what I told you then. No way. I’m not telling you. You’ll only use it to tell me off.”

He hissed indignantly at the cold hand she purposefully rested on his chest when she paused to give him an appraising look.

“That’s fair,” she eventually conceded - most likely when her hand had reached the temperature a human body should be - setting back to work, only to pause again a second later.

“Of course...” she smirked at the new idea that had presented itself to her, leaning across conspiratorially to whisper in his ear. “You might have to make a choice between that, and me making up names for you.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he replied without hesitation.

“That’s your prerogative, Rodney.”

He glared at her.

--x--

It took a couple more minutes to work the material free of the wound – and a couple more minutes of enduring every name beginning with ‘R’ that Ivy could think of – but now the damage was plain to see.

Or at least he could guess it was from the sudden lack of teasing and the expression of horror on Ivy’s face. The colour that he’d tried so hard to get back into those cheeks had drained again, and the guilt he could see in her eyes, when she flicked them to his face then back to his shoulder, was like a mirror to his own.

If the deep red stains that had soaked into his once white tank and across his shoulder were anything to go by, those ferals had made a goddamn mess of him.

“I—this might take a little while. I’m going to need to clear out the…debris…and clean the scratches before I can even think about getting a Stimpak in there.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “These deeper ones… RJ, they’re going to hurt.”

“I’m a big boy, angel. I can take it.”

Debris. He knew exactly what that meant. And damn right it was going to hurt. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to dig broken off feral nails and teeth from his flesh. At least this time he wasn’t trying to comfort a bawling infant as he did it.

When she dragged the lamp closer, MacCready knew exactly what else she’d see. The back of his shoulder and upper arm were littered with old scars. How long would it take her to spot the similarities between the old marks and the ones she was cleaning? He wondered whether she’d guess that’s what wrecked his duster in the first place.

He braced himself, waiting for the inevitable pain, trying to ignore the glint of lamplight on the already red-tinted basin of water next to him. Picking a patch of peeling paint on the skirting board, he stared at it, trying to make himself focus on what colour it might have been two centuries ago. Would it have been something fun? Midnight blue, maybe? Not likely.

A shiver ran up his spine as Ivy smoothed a hand over his shoulder-blade, her thumb tracing the lines of the old wounds with a touch as delicate as a kiss. She didn’t ask. She didn’t need to. One glance between them and she could recognise scars with a history. If anyone understood the vulnerability that came with them, it was her.

MacCready had never been much of one for looking after himself when he was hurt. He was more of a ‘rip the bandaid off’ kind of guy. Stick a stimpak in it and hope for the best.

Oh, but Ivy, she was as gentle as she could be with him, soft hands working to soothe, stopping with every groan and halted curse – if she could – whispering apologies and reassurances that she wouldn’t take much longer.

The water beside him grew deeper red with every time she had to wash the blood from her fingertips. He thought he’d bite clean through his lip when she dug out the last of the debris, it was buried deep and he could hear from trying to keep from retching as she pulled it from deep in the muscle.

The smell of the antiseptic burned his nostrils. He was such a mess, he barely even felt the sting of the carefully applied stimpak getting to work on knitting his muscle back together. Woozily he pressed his fingers to his bleeding lip, rocking forward to put his head between his raised knees until the room stopped spinning.

“Hey, that was the last one,” Ivy gently rubbed her hand up his spine and across his uninjured shoulder, quietly reassuring him. “Just got to get you bandaged up and you’ll be good as new.”

“And what about you?” he asked as she began to bandage his shoulder, glancing pointedly at her swollen ankle which was covered in an ever-increasing nebula of purple and black bruises.

“It’s just a sprain, Mac” she shrugged. “It’ll go down in time. Let me worry about you.”

--x--

He heard the gunshots, that wasn’t what frightened him. It was the scream that came after. The last he’d seen of Ivy she’d been standing up on a pitched roof – stupidly out in the open, but if she hadn’t thrown caution to the wind to get that vantage point, he’d be a dead man.

Now she was gone.

There were feral corpses bobbing in the water all around him, even more hanging off the roofs and walkways. He hadn’t realised how many were on him until he pulled himself back up, fighting for air.

In seconds his vicious memories were replaced by a new fear.

Bleeding and dizzy, he began wading through the deserted streets. He couldn’t see any more movement, not around him and not on the rooftops. And he couldn’t see her. The village was as silent as when they arrived.

“Hey partner, you okay?” he hazarded a shout.

No answer, just the echo of his voice bouncing back off deserted buildings.

MacCready started to move faster towards where he’d last seen her, forcing his body through the deep water, causing eddies and ripples to trail out behind him. He tried to keep calm but his breaths were getting shaky.

“Hey angel, you good?” he shouted louder this time.

Nothing.

“Ivy?”

It was more of a croak than a shout. There was no way anyone could hear it. He could barely hear it. But that didn’t stop the nausea rising in the pit of his stomach, or his pulse starting to pound in his ears.

No, no, no, no, no… not this time.

“Ives!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Over and over again, he shouted, his voice mixing with the echoes as he dragged himself up the rusted fire escape onto the rooftop.

“Mac?” He almost missed it. Her voice was stifled by coughing, but it was her.

Scrambling up onto the pitched roof he’d last seen her on, he spotted a hole edged with rotten beams and snapped tiles. Peering over the edge into the gloom of a dusty attic space, he could see Ivy. She lay crumpled half on/half under a pile of broken beams with blood smeared across her face. Her ankle was caught at a weird angle. The body of a feral lay impaled where it landed just feet away.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so relieved to see a person in his life. The way she was smiling at him, she looked pretty damn glad to see him too.

“Did we win?”

Shaky laughter spilled from his lips, “Something like that, angel.”

“You called me Ives.”

She gave him the soft look of a woman who’d probably hit her head on the way down.

--x--

But Mac was the one doing the worrying.

It had been a long time since he’d been that worried about losing a partner. What rattled him the most was that when she’d disappeared out of his sight, his panic had nothing to do with suddenly being alone in a feral-infested swamp. He didn’t even spare a thought for the Gunner base less than a half a mile away. He’d been too wrapped up in the fear of losing her.

Ivy was giving him that soft look again now, even without the concussion. Would it be so much to hope that she actually gave a damn about him? He’d made mistakes in the past, given his trust to people who didn’t deserve, and he’d been burned.

But maybe she was different, just like he’d told her when he convinced her to help him with this dumbass plan.

“You really don’t have to do all this for me, angel, but thank you.”

Without thinking he reached out, brushed that one stubborn curl back behind her ear and cupped her cheek. It took his thumb brushing her scar for him to realise that he was the biggest dumbass in the commonwealth. Of all the things he could have done…

He was on the verge of panicking and pulling his hand away, when she pressed her hand over the top of and smiled at him. He couldn’t have imagined such a different reaction to when she’d been falling apart in front of him in Malden.

“You should let somebody else take care of you every once in a while.”

If he thought she’d been looking at him softly before, well this look coaxed all the air from his lungs, and if he remembered to breathe at any point in the future, he’d struggle.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Usually MacCready was the one who knew how to tease blushes and smiles out of her. To catch her eye and leave her speechless. How did one simple gesture have his stomach in knots?

Holy crap, he did not see this coming.

There was a creak on the wooden stairs outside their room and he wasn’t sure he’d ever resented a noise so much in his life. Their little bubble had been burst and now he could hear the chatter of settlers outside again, and the damn brahmin still hadn’t shut up – even though he’d been deaf to them just moments before. He could hear one of those damn crows squawking away in the woods nearby. Dinner was cooking, and people were laughing, and didn’t they have anything better to do than interrupt them.

Ivy gave his hand a quick squeeze and took it away from her face just as the door creaked open and one of the settlers arrived with a basin of scalding hot water - now he thought about it, after the day they just had, he probably smelled like antiseptic and stagnant marsh water. Nice.

“I’ll leave you to get washed up.” There was a flush to Ivy’s cheeks that couldn’t just be put down to warm lighting. He just smiled at her like an idiot.

“You need a hand down the stairs?” their host enquired, giving them both the kind of look that gossip was built on.

MacCready glared at the woman. Ivy might be quick to forgive, but he remembered that pipe pistol, and if he started getting shit from caravan guards, he’d know exactly where it had come from.

“No, thank you, Lynn. I can manage.” The woman bustled back out into the night air, but MacCready could hear her taking her time going down the stairs. Nosy...

Before he could help her, Ivy had dragged herself to her feet, using the doorframe to keep as much weight off her ankle as possible.

“I’ll be outside.”

“What, no bed bath?” MacCready forced a laugh. This was the crap they usually joked about, right? He was sure it wouldn’t have sounded so awkward that morning.

Ivy shook her head in exasperation, or at least that was probably what she was going for, but the grin and the blush undermined the impression.

“I was an artist, sweetheart, not a nurse,” she teased. “So, unless you’re planning on posing for a life drawing, I’m going to go and help with supper.”

A sudden panic hit him as the room emptied. What if something happened? What if something happened while she was out there and he couldn’t get to her in time.

The door had barely clicked shut before he called after her, “Angel?”

“Yeah?” she poked her head back in, curious smile in place. The wave of relief he felt after just a second, well, it was ridiculous.

“Stay close. Yeah?”

--x--

The previous night had ended up much like that morning had begun - with bickering and a meal. A big bowl of vegetable stew and a quarrel about how to get back to Diamond City, to be more precise. Not that they’d gone to sleep on bad terms, if intertwined fingers and shy smiles in the darkness were anything to go by.

MacCready watched the weather suspiciously, the morning was dull and windy, and knowing his luck, they’d probably end up hiking in the rain. He stood on the tracks with Ivy, all packed up and ready to go, but they were still undecided on the route they should take. Her ankle was no better than the day before, despite her hobbling on it and trying to convince him that she’d be able to make it the long way on foot.

“I’m telling you, if we go via Cambridge it’s actual roads and I’ll be able to walk. I might just need a little support,” she challenged him. Again.

“And I’m telling you, you’re in no fit state to try and get past raiders and muties if they’ve infested that apartment block again,” he snapped back, frustrated. “If we take the shorter route we can be back in under two hours.”

“And if there are yao guai, Mac? What then? I’m definitely going to get eaten, is what.” She folded her arms across her chest, the very picture of defiance – if it wasn’t for her standing on one leg like a lawn flamingo. “Where’s the salt? Because you might as well season me now.”

“Stop being so damn dramatic.” He rolled his eyes at her indignant look. “I’d get us there in less time if you’d just let me carry you.”

“And what about your shoulder?”

He chose to ignore that one. The shoulder in question still ached like a son-of-a…gun.

“I’ll tell you what RJ stands for.” Looking at her like he’d just upped the ante on a bet she could never refuse. “But only if we can go the shorter way.”

…got her.

“Really?”

He shook his head and stalked over, picking her up in one fluid movement and–hopefully–managed to hide the sharp pain in his shoulder. She quickly wrapped an arm around his neck to steady herself and swallowed hard – he couldn’t miss it – composing herself after being caught off guard.

“Robert. Joseph.”

She smiled, glancing away at nothing in particular, like she was trying out the feel of his name in her mind. Then she smiled at him, and it was his turn to steady himself. There was none of the teasing he’d anticipated, just that gentle warmth that always caught him off guard.

“Ok, you win. We can go your way.”

Oh, this was going to get complicated.

#it is done. finally.#maccready #robert joseph maccready #ivy kendrick #sole survivor #maccready x sole survivor #maccready x f!solesurvivor #Then I Met You #mac x ivy #fallout 4 #my writing #my oc

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