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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

trust

pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x reader

wordcount: 1.6k

warnings: none, pining, fluff fluff fluff

summary: the inherent intimacy of sharing space

Entering your ship was a strange experience for Ezra. He rarely entered other people’s pods at all, much less because he was invited. And really, how you managed to get a even a small one all to yourself was beyond him. It felt personal - intimate, and indeed, it was not something you would allow without tremendous trust.

He was silent, as the hatch released and he climbed in after you. Out of respect or… something else, you did not know. You felt vulnerable. The darkness of his lashes under the glow of your lights made it all the more obvious that he wasn’t missing a single detail about it, about you.

You had taken care to disguise it, with a carefully faked outer shell that no one would give a second glance. Even more care went to the maintenance, and he was sure there were secrets hidden away that even he couldn’t see. After a few weeks of your unlikely partnership, he was not surprised. It was particular, to feel safe in such a place, in such a time, but he did. This was certainly not a ship that would torch and tremble its way into disarray, and nothing was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand against the humidity.

Ezra’s favorite part, though, was by far the little things you’d collected and placed around. There weren't many, but it made him feel strangely happy inside - to see hints of you that you’d permitted, despite the temporary nature of these things. Little things stuck to the wall, a chest tucked under what he could only assume was your bed, and a small mountain of blankets.

Words began to drip from his mouth, falling and floating and filling the small space.

“Moonlight,” his nickname for you was music on your ears. “I must say that it is a genuine pleasure to be welcome in this establishment.” Ezra’s words were fast, first because he was nervous and then because he was excited. People always thought he spoke with eloquent articulation, because the words were as sweet and dark as good honey, but with you they’d always been different. They tumbled over each other as he tried to fit too many into too small of a space, almost desperate to communicate everything going on in his brain, and maybe even his heart, all at once.

More than happy to listen, you nodded, and gently slid up behind him, as he turned in circles around the main room. Dodging his arm, which was gesturing as his topic of interest switched from your pod to you, you gently began to tug at his suit.

It was another intimate moment – removing the filter from it, undoing the clasps and wordlessly asking him to slough off a layer for you.

His strung out sentences stuttered before they picked up again, cautiously flirtatious.

It wasn’t as though the two of you hadn’t grown close, these past few weeks, but neither of you had been in such a position. Self preservation was always the first instinct of anyone who wanted to live another day without poison in their lungs or thrower shots making holes in their body. It felt foreign, but natural, and it took no time at all for him to return the favor, albeit with a touch more insistence.

Dark eyes raked over your underclothes, lingering on the skin he could see, as if it was his first time seeing you like this. Maybe it was, in it’s own way. The air of your ship was clean, filtered, and you had found decent lights recently, making it a distinct improvement over the debris filled fog of most of this forsaken planet. So you understood, as your drank in his form, too: the roughness of his skin and the form of his muscles beneath his clothes. The urge to swallow came before you could stop it, and his eyes followed the movement in your throat, undoubtedly aware that he was the cause of the extra saliva in your mouth.

He had moved close, but not as close as you might’ve thought. No closer than the quiet moments in his tent when you sat by his side, bent over maps and tools, and sharing supplies. No closer than when he pretended to press his hand over your mouth and the corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter as you both hid from a hostile party. Certainly no closer than when you were walking through a particularly beautiful area, and he had tucked your glove into his elbow as best he could, shocking you as it made him all but defenseless, and the helmets of your suits had bumped into each other.

Ezra was close, but then he was moving away, asking you where he could place the things for safety or cleaning or recharging. You showed him, explaining as much about your ship as you could, wanting him to know it, as he already knew you.

When your hands brushed, over the control unit, a shudder went through you. Being the man he was, he gave you a slow, salacious grin, but his eyes betrayed something softer. You returned the look, before turning away, compelled to open your chest and show him what was inside.

Or some of it, anyway.

You held a worn book out to him, and Ezra eyes glazed over, appreciating it to the full volume that you intended. It was old, worn, but still in common, and he grasped it reverently. You averted your eyes as he tried to find a position where he could use his single hand to devour the words, fully aware of his pride. There was plenty to do, anyway, and… you hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, so shifting some of the blankets onto the floor was more than necessary.

He watched you, though.

The prospect of the passages on the pages betwixt his palms was moot in comparison to your form. To Ezra, you were ethereal. His Moonlight. The drape of the cloth between your fingers and the glow of the lights illuminating the fine hairs on your skin was enchanting. Part of him wanted to tell you to stop, to leave the blankets so the two of you could burrow in, together, and he could feel your breath on his skin before his eyes even opened in the morning. But the other parts were still stuck in longing, and soaking in the domesticity of your movements.

“What’s on your mind, Ezra?”

You’d caught him dreaming.

“Lovely one, I was just reflecting on a story I heard awhile ago, that I think your beauty would quite belong in,” he started, more than excited by the image his mind was overlaying. Marble columns and sweeping stairs and arched windows that reached to the heavens replaced the metal and wires and knobs, and it was blissful, before it came crashing down.

Shy wasn’t a word that usually suited him, but it was the only one that fit in this moment. His head ducked, shoulders hunched as he glanced resentfully at the knotted fabric where his arm would be. There were many things his words could transform, dreamlike worlds he could – would – create for you but there was a part of him that did not fit.

When it had first been lost, being alive was more than enough. And usually, that remained true. Ezra considered himself more than lucky to be alive to walk in the glow you cast, to be graced with your smile but…

Your own head tilted, watching him as you waited, mind searching, sorting through the stories he’d recited to you over the long harvest walks.

He was still looking for the words, the right ones, anyway, as you moved gently.

The click brought him back to reality, and the music made it worth it. It was a rickety old thing, but the player did it’s job just fine, for a moment like this.

In a trance, still shy but increasingly eager, he stood his full height, placing the book gently away before reaching for you. The self doubt ebbed out of him the closer you got, the trust in your eyes making him feel more worthy than the strength of his limbs ever did.

The words caught in his throat as your hands slid around his neck, as he felt hyperaware of every nerve that connected with your skin.

Your eyes held his like gravity until his hand touched your hip, and the heat on your face made you duck away. There was space between your bodies and he gently began to guide you round and round.

It was strange, the feeling inside of him, how good this little moment was, but he was intoxicated by it, by you. When his arm slid to your lower back and asked you closer, you melted into his chest and he was sure nothing had ever felt quite so heavenly. You fit into him, adding on to his soul effortlessly as you molded together and he couldn’t stop himself.

Ezra spoke into the space, so close that your hair trembled under his breath, having split between his desire just to feel you, and his need to tell you how grateful he was for this moment. The ghost of you lips on his skin was more than he had ever hoped for, but made him hungry for more of you, to steal more of these moments and elicit more of these feelings.

In turn, you felt encompassed by him, and something grew inside of you for the first time since you’d ventured out in the dangerous time and space, all alone.

“Ez,” you whispered. The words tripped, but continued, and you almost wondered if he was too excited to finish his story to stop them from pushing out.

“Ezra,” you tried again and he stopped, both talking and swaying, almost frozen as he cradled you.

“Thank you,” for what specifically, you weren't sure, but you felt like you had to say it. For all of it, everything he was.

He began to sway again, his fingers curling ever so slightly into the cloth on your back. The music lilted through the air, and there was a long moment before he picked up, compelled to finish what he started. You didn’t mind.

Neither of you ever slept as peacefully as you did that night.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost

#no one asked for this but heres the thing #when I watched prospect me and the rest of the fandom had very different expereinces #i think #ezra #ezra x reader #ezra x you #prospect

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rizlowwritessortof · 3 years

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Meant To Be - Chapter 6

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 3546

Warnings: Smut

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Jordan’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her brain taking a moment to catch up. She felt cozy and comfortable, but the muted glow of the sunlight filtering through the curtains made her curious about the time. Dean’s arms were wrapped around her, their legs tangled together, and she was able to pull back just enough to spy the alarm clock next to the bed – 9:30. She laid her head on her pillow and stared at Dean’s sleeping face, a soft smile on her lips. She could hardly believe what had happened, but he was still here, so it wasn’t a dream.

After a few minutes, her body was nagging her to get up, so she carefully disentangled herself from Dean’s long limbs and headed for the bathroom. After she took care of her needs and indulged in a long, hot shower, she came back into the bedroom, wrapped in her soft robe, peeking over at Dean. He was still asleep, so she tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her, mind set on making breakfast for the two of them.

She found herself humming, a song stuck in her head from the night before, and soon she was swaying to the tune as she started coffee. She hit the button to brew, still moving to the music, and caught herself in mid-twirl with a startled squeak as she saw Dean leaning in the doorway. “Oh my God, Dean, you scared the shit out of me!”

He was grinning, his arms folded across his bare chest, his pants from the night before sitting low on his hips without his belt. “Could you do that last little booty shake one more time?”

Jordan grabbed a towel from the table and flung it at him as he headed her way, but he batted it away, grabbing her by the waist. She buried her face in his chest, giggling as he hugged her close. “You shouldn’t spy on people, it’s rude.”

“You looked like you were having fun, so I didn’t want to interrupt. And besides, you’re cute as hell.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining, and pushed herself up on tiptoe to kiss him.

“Well, I was going to make us breakfast, but – we’re kind of behind in getting groceries. So I guess coffee will have to do?”

“Tell you what – I’ll go take a quick shower, and then I’ll take you out for breakfast. If we can stop by my place first so I can change?”

“That sounds like a plan,” she said, melting against him as he bent to kiss her again, his hand slipping into her robe and down to cup her breast, kneading gently. They both jumped at the sound of Donna clearing her throat from the doorway.

“Well. Looks like you two had a good night,” she teased.

“Very good,” Jordan answered with a smile, pulling her robe back together. “But I didn’t expect you back so early.”

“Doug had to work, so I told him I was coming home to sleep off the rest of this hangover in my own bed. So you two just carry on. I’ll see ya later,” she grinned, then turned and headed for her room, sending one more comment over shoulder. “Just remember, we prepare food in there...”

Jordan giggled softly as Dean bent to kiss her again on the lips, then dropped one to the tip of her nose. “So – maybe while I shower you should pack some things, spend tonight at my place? That way we won’t have any roommates to dodge if I want to chase you around naked or something...” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he teased her, and her heart did a little skip in her chest.

“That sounds like a plan. Especially the chasing me around naked part,” she smiled back, standing on tiptoe to kiss him once again. “So move it, detective. I’m hungry.”

He made a face, then turned towards the door, muttering a comment about bossy women, and ducking when another towel came flying his way. “I’m going, I’m going!”

They walked through Dean’s door a couple of hours later, Jordan sighing happily as she dropped her bag and slipped off her shoes. “Seriously, is there anything in this world better than bacon? I really don’t think...” Dean grabbed her from behind, turning her to face him with a grin on his face.

“I can think of a couple of things, actually.” He bent to kiss her, then lifted his head to look into her eyes, his smile fading slowly and his eyes darkening as he did it again, his hunger for her unmistakable.

She responded just as fiercely, clutching at him as he crushed her body against his, unable to get close enough to satisfy their need. He ran his hands down her back, over the curve of her ass until he could grasp at her thighs, lifting her until she could wrap her legs around his hips as he walked them towards the bedroom.

They had each other half undressed when Dean’s phone rang, and he closed his eyes, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Sorry, Jordan - it’s the precinct ring. I gotta answer it.”

She nodded, blowing out a breath and dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay.”

“Winchester. Yeah, what’s up?” He glanced Jordan’s way, a frown forming on his brow. “Is she okay? Well, if Ted’s there, then… What? Why?” He was looking more and more stormy as the conversation continued. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, I get it. I’ll be there in 20.” He ended the call and tossed it to the bed with a frustrated sigh.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to Val?”

“Yeah. She was abducted, roughed up a little, but she’s ok. Her fiance is there to take her home, but she won’t leave until she talks to me. She says the whole thing was about me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, but I have to go. I’m sorry, Jordan.” She stood up and put her arms around him, hugging him as he did the same.

“It’s okay. Just go talk to her, see what’s going on, and I’ll be here when you get back.” She looked up at him and smiled, and his frown faded a little as he leaned his forehead on hers and kissed her gently.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

Jordan squeezed him a little tighter, looking into his eyes. “I promise.”

Dean shoved his way through the door of the precinct, heading for the third floor where the Violent Crimes division was housed. He heard his name as he came through the door, looking up to see his captain waving him over. “Sorry, Winchester – I know this was your day off. But I thought you should talk to her.”

“It’s okay, sir, I understand. Where is she?”

“They’re in my office. I thought maybe we should both hear what she has to say.” Dean nodded, following the older man through the maze of desks and into his office in the back. He took a breath, mentally preparing himself, and stepped through the door.

Valerie sat there, her hand in Ted’s, looking up at Dean as he walked in. She looked shaken, her usual perfect facade completely gone, and he actually felt a pang of sympathy. “Val, you okay?”

She nodded, looking at the floor. “I’m okay. They didn’t really hurt me. But I was so scared.” Her voice was subdued, a little shaky, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide. “They thought I was – that we were...”

“They took you because of me?”

She nodded, then glanced nervously towards Ted before continuing. “Someone saw me kiss you at the gala, and I guess they thought we were together. They were just kids. High school age, maybe a few were a little older, but… There was a girl, she seemed to be in charge, and she said that I should tell my boyfriend that he would pay for killing one of theirs. And that’s when I said, ‘My fiance would never kill anyone! What are you talking about?”

Dean closed his eyes for a second, cursing under his breath. “Fuck. So then...”

“The girl, I think they called her Megan? She started yelling at one of the boys, calling him an idiot, and that’s when he said he saw the kiss and figured… You know. After things quieted down a bit, she ordered one of them to put the bag back over my head and drive me around for a bit so I wouldn’t be able to find them, and drop me off in front of the police station.” She was shaking visibly, and Ted reached to hand her the glass of water from the captain’s desk. She took a sip, handing it back to him with a nod at his whispered ‘Are you all right?’ before looking up at Dean, fear in her eyes. “Dean, they’re after you. Whatever happened, they want payback. You and your partner, and that girl you were with, and Sam – you all have to be careful. They were armed, and...” She stopped, swiping at a tear that had trickled down her cheek, and her fiance put his arm around her, hugging her close.

“Ted, you’d better get her home. Val, they shouldn’t bother you again, now that they know you don’t have anything to do with me. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She nodded, taking Ted’s hand as he

helped her to her feet and draped his jacket over her shoulders, then guided her out of the room. Dean moved to a chair in front of the captain’s desk and plopped down, his head in his hands for a moment, looking up when his boss spoke.

“These damn gangs. Dean, you’d better get word out to anyone you think they might target to get to you. You and Donna need to get to work on this tomorrow, we need to nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man’s voice softened a little as he continued. “What happened out there was not your fault. You did the only thing you could do. I know that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, sir. It does not.” Dean stood, turning to leave.

“Winchester - watch your back.” Dean looked back, giving a nod in reply before heading out the door.

He spent most of the drive home with his phone on speaker, filling Donna in on all the details he had. He paused a moment before unlocking the door to his apartment, dreading the news he had to share with Jordan. With a reluctant sigh, he went inside, locking the door behind him.

Jordan peeked through the kitchen door, then sent him a bright smile, wiping her hands on a towel and tossing it at the kitchen table before rushing towards him, greeting him with a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” he answered, unable to keep himself from smiling back. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, I just put some barbecue glazed pork chops and baked potatoes in the oven. I thought maybe I could cook, since I had some time.”

“My cupboards are bare, how did you manage that?”

“That little store on the corner. It’s not far, I just walked down there and...”

“You did what?!” Dean’s voice rose a little, his smile gone, his body suddenly tense. She stepped back and looked up into his face, worry clouding her eyes.

“I’m sorry, was that not okay? Dean, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” He walked over to the sofa and dropped down onto it, letting his head fall back against the cushion. Jordan followed, sitting beside him and turning sideways, folding her legs beneath her as she peered into his face. “Dean, please talk to me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just – I have some people after me, and the thought of you out there today…” He raised his head, looking down at where his hands lay clenched in his lap.

“What?”

“Yeah. Just kids, really, but – they’re dangerous. They want revenge, for what I did, and that’s why they grabbed Val. They thought she was… One of the kids was working, waiter or busboy or something at the fundraiser, and they saw the kiss, just like you did. So they took her, but when they found out she’s getting married to another guy next weekend, they blindfolded her again and dropped her off by the precinct.”

“Wait, revenge? For what?”

“Okay. You know the awards Donna and I got, that night the Captain talked about? I shot a kid. Killed him.”

“Oh, my God...”

“He was gonna kill another boy, had him on his knees in front of him, the gun to his head. Donna and I got there, and she tried to talk him down, but when she took a step towards him, he shot her. I pulled my gun, and he was about to pull the trigger on that other kid, and I didn’t have a choice. I fired, and his gun went off into the grass, and he was dead before he hit the ground. I didn’t even have a chance to try and save him. He was seventeen, eighteen maybe. Not sure. After that, the kid he was going to shoot took off, and all the rest of them scattered. Backup got there in time to grab a couple of them for questioning, but��”

Jordan reached for his hand, holding it as he continued, still not looking at her. “Found out later his name was Evan. Donna thinks it’s his sister who organized Val’s kidnapping.” He stopped, teeth playing at the inside of his lower lip. “That kid – I’ll never forget his face as long as I live.”

Jordan climbed onto Dean’s lap, tucking her knees in beside him and taking his face in her hands. He finally met her gaze, the guilt and pain in his expression causing tears to sting her eyes, and she slipped her arms around his neck, holding him tight, her face buried in his shoulder. He sat there unmoving for a moment before letting himself hold her close, his arms wrapped around her as if he would never let her go.

They stayed that way for some time, neither of them wanting to move. Dean finally took a deep breath, some of the tension flowing from his body with his exhale, and Jordan placed a gentle kiss on his neck. He let out a soft little hum, and she smiled to herself before continuing on, kissing her way over his neck and throat. He shifted beneath her, his arms tightening around her when she nibbled at the spot below his ear. “Feeling a little more relaxed now?” she whispered, backing away a little to look down into his face. His eyes opened slowly, a heated glow lighting them from within.

“Not sure if relaxed is exactly the word I’d use,” he answered, staring into her eyes for a long second, then leaned up and captured her lips beneath his in a smoldering kiss. She moaned softly as he gripped her hips, pressing her against the bulge in his jeans.

“Need you,” she begged when he finally stopped for a moment, and he set her to her feet, rising up from the sofa and leading her to the bedroom, then picking her up and laying her on the bed before ripping off his outer shirt.

“You can have me, baby girl,” he replied, his voice husky with his own need, crawling up between her legs to undo the button and zipper on her jeans. “These gotta go. Now.” Jordan lifted her hips and Dean pulled her jeans and panties down in one tug, then scooted back and removed them completely, tossing them over his shoulder before lowering himself down again, kissing and nipping gently at her inner thighs. He nuzzled his face into her pussy with a happy moan, dropping a kiss to her mound as he looked up at her. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first day I met you.”

She let out a helpless whimper as he flicked his tongue over her clit. “I didn’t think you really thought about me at all that day.”

“I have a great poker face,” he grinned, then disappeared between her thighs and set about tasting her thoroughly. She tossed her head back against the pillow, gasping for air as he teased her. He groaned with pleasure at her flavor, holding her hips to keep her close to his questing tongue and lips. Before long, she was grasping at his hair, grinding against him as he drove her nearly insane before she let out a wail and shuddered violently, head spinning from the strength of her orgasm, her back arching up off the bed.

Dean thoroughly enjoyed the results of his efforts, then gave her one final drag of his tongue and a gentle kiss to her sensitive clit when she shoved weakly at his head. He moved slowly up her body, leaving soft nips of his teeth and tender kisses on the way, pushing her shirt up with him as he moved. He shifted one hand to knead at her breast with an appreciative growl, reaching behind her back with the other to undo her bra and bending to suck a nipple into his mouth as he shoved the clothing up and out of his way.

“Dean, oh... my god… Dean!” Jordan whimpered as he bit down gently, making her arch up again beneath him. “Please…”

He raised up, bending close, his voice rumbling in her ear. “What do you need, baby girl? Need me to fill you up, fuck you nice and deep?”

“Yes, please...” Her voice a needy sob, she reached for his face and pulled him to her, kissing him desperately as he plucked at her nipple, his erection throbbing against the confines of his zipper. She sucked at his tongue and he groaned, pulling away finally to reach behind him and rip the t-shirt over his head. He climbed off the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothes, then moved back over her and captured her lips in a searing kiss, his rigid cock prodding at her entrance before he eased the tip inside, pressing forward into her welcoming heat.

“Fuck, baby, you take me so good,” he moaned as she wrapped her legs around his hips, straining to force him in deeper. He reached for her, pulling her up against him as he sat back on his knees, lips sealed in a hungry kiss as they undulated together, the sound soft sighs and desperate moans filling the room.

Jordan pulled back, gasping for air, then leaning in to rest her forehead against his. “Dean… feels so good...” she managed, bracing herself on his shoulders as she tried to drive him deeper with each thrust.

“Take what you need, sweetheart,” he whispered, fingers gripping at her hips, teeth clenched as she threw her head back and began to come undone. “Fuck… fuck, baby girl, I’m gonna come with you...”

He reached to crush her to his chest as she let out a hoarse cry, her body first going stiff, then limp and trembling as he bucked up into her desperately, flooding her with his release. She whimpered weakly as he finally relaxed his hold on her, lowering them down to the bed again, his forehead on the pillow beside her head as they panted, shaking from their exertion.

After a moment to recover, he raised his head, looking down at her and moving to brush the hair from her face before he leaned in to kiss her gently. Her lashes fluttered open as he smiled down at her, and she gave one in return. “With a little more practice, we could get really good at this,” she teased, and he laughed softly.

“I’ll practice as much as you want, sweetheart, but I think that was Olympic gold.” He blew out a breath and pulled himself free with a little moan, dropping down to the bed beside her. They laid there in silence for a moment, letting their bodies cool down, fingers laced together between them. Dean finally spoke, his voice subdued. “Jordan – I need to ask you to do something for me.”

She moved to her side, reaching to brush her fingers over the scruff on his jaw. “What is it?”

“I need you to work from home for a while. I don’t want you down in that neighborhood. I’m gonna talk to Sam, too. It’s not safe right now. They’re gunning for me, and they might use one of you to get at me. I can’t… I won’t let you get hurt because of me.”

“Okay. I understand.” She bent to kiss him, then raised her head, looking into his eyes. “And you have to promise me something. Be careful. I can’t lose you.”

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He pulled her down and kissed her, sweet and deep, mind set on keeping his promise, because this – he was not giving this up without a fight.

Chapter 7

#meant to be #chapter 6 #dean fic #dean smut #dean x oc #dean x jordan

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voids-colourful-creations · 3 years

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Ships Passing in the Night and Sailing Together Until Morning - Interlude I

In the Grass

Summary: Satoshi takes a break. Goh asks a question. Pikachu enjoys a well deserved nap.

[Read on Ao3!]

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Goh sat cross legged on the grass, the edge of his left sneaker pressing against his leg. He had been sitting for long enough that the pattern of the sole had been imprinted onto his skin. The cuffs of his pants had been rolled up as the sun beating down through the intricate glass dome grew stronger, and all black clothing began to feel less and less practical.

The breeze that day carried throughout Sakuragi Park, a concept that confused Goh, considering it was a fairly closed environment, what with the glass dome and all. However, the gentle wind was soothing enough that he was willing to let it go, for the time being.

The leaves on the trees shook enthusiastically as the wind blew through, as if encouraging it to continue. The slightly shaking shadows fell just short of where Goh lay, within reach but not quite where he sat.

This was how he liked it.

The grass was lush and vibrant green, either due to the nearby river or the high numbers of grass pokemon inside. Perhaps both.

It was soft, Goh thought, when laid upon like this. The individual strands were wiry and sharp, depending on what angle they were held at, but together they formed a soft bed. The sun had yet to warm them, leaving it pleasantly cool to lie upon.

The sun rose further into the sky, and the heat seemed to increase tenfold. Although, perhaps the sun wasn’t entirely to blame, and some fault should be placed on the smoke spreading across the landscape.

Electricity crackled, scorch marks being left upon grass not too far from where Goh was sitting.

It was a bit strange, Goh noticed, that despite the vibrant yellow sparks colliding against the air, the grass, and the seemingly fiery blue orbs that were their initial target, his attention was caught by only one thing.

Captivating was a word Goh found himself using to describe Satoshi with growing frequency. He knew he wasn’t the first, he knew he wouldn’t be the last, but there was something about him that drew people in. He had heard people talking about it before, his flare in battle being a common thing mentioned, but for Goh it was more the opposite.

Before Satoshi, Goh had been... less than interested in battling. More than anything, he couldn’t understand the point, resulting in him finding himself bored every time he tried to follow a match.

Sure, competition was fun, and exploring what pokemon could do was always interesting. But the spectacle, the awards, the prestige of what was, on a surface level, just shouting some instructions, couldn’t make sense in Goh’s mind.

Satoshi had changed that. Satoshi had changed a lot of things. How Goh felt about battling, how Goh wanted to achieve his dream, how fast his heart beat in his chest. Lots of things. And for the most part, Goh was thankful for that.

However even with Satoshi in the middle of it, his smile making the whole affair so much more beautiful in Goh’s eyes, there were so many parts that just didn’t make sense.

But Satoshi loved to battle, and so despite the initial confusion, Goh didn’t really mind watching him train.

Something in the back of his mind told him he would’ve minded, had it not been Satoshi, which he dismissed.

Blue and yellow lights clashed, never quite mixing into the appropriate green. The grass was sent rustling from the resulting gusts.

Riolu moved too quickly for Goh’s eyes to track, becoming not more than a blur of blue and black, occasionally letting out a yell or grunt of effort. The same could be said for Pikachu, darting back and forth in what Goh guessed to be an effort to confuse Riolu on his exact location. It was working to moderate success, a few of Riolu’s attacks landing, but more not.

Riolu readied another attack, aiming directly towards Pikachu. The glow of it shined in Pikachu’s eyes, changing their colour from brown to unnatural blue for a moment.

“Dodge it, Pikachu!”

Satoshi's voice called out, strong and rough and passionate. The words wedged themselves firmly in Goh’s mind.

Maybe it was the way that Satoshi yelled them that got them caught, the emotion and heat of the moment. It could also be the boy himself who yelled them. Goh shook his head at these ideas.

To dodge, as a command, was confusing on its own, no need to make it deeper than it was, right?

Besides, he could figure that out right now, the battle having winded to a close.

Taking a deep breath, Goh stretched his arms above his head, bringing them down in a fluid motion to grab one leg. Reaching out forward, Goh unfolded his legs to sit out in front of him. With his left foot planted back, Goh pushed himself to standing, and ran down the gentle slope to meet Satoshi.

“Good job, buddy!” Satoshi praised, “You did great out there.”

He bent down and stroked the fur between Pikachu’s ears with the practice of someone who had done this so many times it was as natural as breathing. Pikachu softly squeaked out something in response, contented.

“You too, Riolu!”

Satoshi called across the field, to which Riolu howled happily in return.

Satisfied, he returned his attention to running his fingers against Pikachu’s fur.

“You’ve been working hard! Good job, Satoshi,” Goh called, waving a bit as he walked over.

Satoshi’s eyes sparkled a bit as turned to face Goh, scooping Pikachu up in his arms as he straightened so he could continue to pet him as he spoke.

“Nah nah, Pikachu and Riolu are the ones doing all the work.” Satoshi deflected with a smile, Pikachu cooing at the compliment. ”I’m just giving them directions and all.”

Goh frowned ever so slightly.

“Well, that’s clearly not true. If you were cjust giving them directions, there wouldn’t be any need for trainers in battles at all, you could just send out the pokemon to fight on their own. Besides, weren’t you the one who told me that pokemon and trainers work as a team? There’s no need to downplay your achievements, you should be proud of yourself.”

He bit his lip as he finished speaking, having rambled on much more than he had meant to. It just didn’t seem fair, Satoshi not recognizing his accomplishments.

Satoshi’s face was blank as he stared for a moment, though it quickly shifted to a smile again.

“You’re right! Both that I said that, and that we’re a team. Thanks.”

Goh shook his head.

“It’s nothing, I’m just repeating what you already knew.”

Satoshi’s smile shifted to a smirk.

“Okay now who’s downplaying?”

Goh rolled his eyes, but he was happy to see Satoshi smiling.

“Come take a break for a bit, Satoshi.” Goh said, phrased like a statement but voiced like a request.

Satoshi looked hesitant, looking back and forth between Pikachu in his arms and Riolu across the field.

“Please?” Goh added, which seemed to be enough for Satoshi.

“Alright! Riolu! We’re taking a break, okay?” Satoshi called again, receiving a nod from Riolu in reply as it ran off, presumably to chat with the other park pokemon. Or maybe fight them.

Satoshi turned back towards Goh, nodding at him as he began to head up the hill, grass skimming his ankles as he went.

Goh followed closely behind, feeling a bit awkward not quite making pace but not wanting to speed up that last little bit for fear of looking clingy.

Satoshi sighed contently just before he flopped backwards onto the grass in the shade of the tree.

“Ack! It’s cold!” Satoshi cried out, spreading his arms out onto the lawn, and beginning to laugh.

Goh smiled, leaning back to sit across from Satoshi. Satoshi’s eyes fluttered closed, Goh’s remained open.

Tiny pieces of sunlight filtered down through the gaps in the leaves, shuddering slightly as the leaves shifted in the wind, illuminating Satoshi’s face in fragments.

“It’s nice actually! The cold grass, I mean. I didn’t think it’d be that cold!”

Goh laughed, a soft laugh that slipped through his fingers as he covered his mouth with his hands.

“It’s been in the shade, of course it’s going to be cooler than the grass you nearly set on fire.”

Eyes still closed, a grin stretched across Satoshi’s face.

“You’re right, you’re right.”

Pikachu tucked his feet beneath himself, curling up on Satoshi’s chest with a contented squeak. Lightly, as not to disturb the pokemon, Satoshi let his hands glide across the tips of the grass.

Goh watched with odd fascination as the blades bent under Satoshi’s finger tips, rustling softly.

“When you’re lying on it, it feels all soft, but the tips are kinda pointy” Satoshi remarked idly. “You should try it, Goh!”

Goh blinked for a moment, then shrugged.

He placed a hand down, dragging it back and forth.

And Satoshi was right, the grass was cold in a comforting, relieving way. But something about looking at Satoshi made Goh feel warm, warm, warm, and while he couldn’t quite understand it, it was growing in familiarity.

“Pointy, huh?” Goh remarked, poking a grass blade. It did have a tip to it, though he wasn’t sure if he would call it ‘pointy’.

Satoshi nodded.

“Yeah. Not sharp, it’s not thick enough for that, but ya know…! Pointy!”

Satoshi kept one hand on the ground, the other raising to wave in a nondescript motion in some attempt to convey what he meant.

Goh raised an eyebrow.

“There’s sharp grass?”

Satoshi nodded.

“Yeah! Or, hold on I might be mixing up the word. Actually, I’ll just show you!”

His eyes snapped open, Pikachu hopping off his trainer to curl up into the grass.

Satoshi practically leapt to standing, taking long, quick strides towards the base of the tree. Next to the trunk, the grass grew longer, in thicker strands that appeared to tangle in with one another. A couple other plants weaved themselves into the mix, and Goh couldn't name a single one.

“Here’s the type of grass! It has some special name, I think, but I can’t remember it. Here!”

Satoshi leaned over, pulling a handful of grass together and tearing it out, pushing the blades out with his thumb to fan them out. He bowed teasingly as he presented them to Goh, as if offering a gift to a king.

“Behold!”

Goh laughed again, picking up one of the blades between his forefinger and his thumb.

“Feel it, really feel it!" Satoshi said, "What’s it like?”

Goh ran his finger against the stalk.

“Hmm… This side is smooth… but this one isn’t! It’s… sticky? No, not sticky, it’s catching on my fingers because it's coarse- this is what you meant by sharp! That makes a lot of sense.”

Satoshi glowed.

“Exactly!”

Satisfied, he plopped himself down on the grass again, careful not to accidentally squish Pikachu. Goh followed suit, sitting closer to Satoshi this time. Their crossed legs mirrored one another, the freshly picked pile of grass being placed between them, knees not quite touching.

“Now,” Satoshi said, a mischievous look sparking in his eye, “Check this out!”

He placed one of the pieces of grass between the pointer fingers on both hands, pulling it taut with his thumbs, and wrapping his fingers together.

“Satoshi?”

Satoshi screwed his eyes shut, brought his cupped hands up to his lips— “Satoshi, what are you-" —and blew.

The resulting sound was that of a loud, squeaking honk, resonating throughout the park, startling more than a few pokemon. Pikachu jumped up, cheeks sparking slightly. Goh practically leapt a foot in the air, heart soaring even further.

(@atlix2)

“W-ww-what was that!?”

Satoshi grinned sheepishly.

“Grass blowing trick! I guess it works better outside… I think most of the park heard me…”

“I think Kalos heard you! Give a guy a warning next time…”

Satoshi laughed a bit, “Sorry, sorry!” But Goh could tell he meant it.

Pikachu crawled over to place his head in Satoshi’s lap, letting out a disgruntled "Pikapi pi-Ka-chu.”

Satoshi laughed, stroking Pikachu behind the ears.

“Did I startle you, buddy? Aw, I’m sorry.”

Pikachu nodded, but he didn’t seem all too upset. He rubbed his head against his trainer’s leg, and Satoshi smiled a bit softer.

“Tired, huh?”

“Pikaaa.”

“You did great out there. Strong attacks, excellent dodging.”

The sound of Satoshi’s battle commands filled Goh’s ears for a moment.

“Uh… speaking of dodging.”

Satoshi tilted his head to the side.

“What about it?”

Goh reached for one of the blades of grass, pressing his thumbnail into the side of it to tear it in two.

“I was just sort of wondering… why?”

Satoshi blinked.

“What?”

Goh went on, “Like, why is it a command, and why do you use it so much?”

The strand tore to two pieces, then three, then four.

“Sometimes it makes sense, but other times I don’t get it. Why do you tell your pokemon to dodge even if they’re obviously already seeing the attack and are gonna dodge anyway? Pikachu’s good at dodging like you said, he’s gonna get out of the way on his own. So... why call it out?”

As Goh spoke he feared stronger and stronger that his words were coming out wrong, the question sounding much more like an accusation than he had intended.

To Goh’s surprise, Satoshi merely smiled.

“Oh, I can explain that! It would be kind of confusing if you didn’t battle, I think.”

The knot in Goh’s chest seemed to loosen. Satoshi’s expression softened, focused in on Pikachu, not meeting Goh’s eye.

“Trainers have debated stuff like this before, but I think, at least for me, that it’s about trust. I want my partners to trust me, and to know that I’m guiding them through the whole battle, no matter what.”

Goh let the words seep into his mind, processing them slowly.

“So you’d call out for them, even if they didn’t need it?” He asked tentatively.

“Even if they don’t need it,” Satoshi replied, “It’s nice to know someone’s looking out for you, you know? That they care enough to try their hardest to make sure you won’t be hurt.”

Goh short circuited momentarily. Did he know? He wasn’t sure. No, no he wasn’t going to think about this. He was chatting with his friend about battle strategies. This was not the time to worry about something silly like this.

Though a tiny seed of doubt was planted in the depths of Goh’s mind. A fear that Satoshi was wrong. That no one was looking out for him, nor would anyone anytime soon.

It didn’t matter, he told himself. These were the foolish thoughts of a silly child. He could stand on his own just fine. What did it matter if there was anyone else? He didn’t need anyone else.

Tongue feeling out of place in his mouth, Goh spoke again.

“Won’t that just hurt them in the long run? Wouldn’t they get used to having someone calling out attacks? Then they wouldn’t be able to fight on their own.”

Satoshi’s expression shifted for a moment, and Goh’s breath caught in his throat. This was feeling eerily similar to an argument they had already had. One he wasn’t keen on repeating. One he still thought about, still cursed himself for jumping to conclusions, for being so paranoid that he had almost sabotaged everything before it had even begun.

Maybe because Goh’s fear showed on his face, or maybe because Satoshi remembered the same as Goh, or maybe just because Satoshi was a kind person, he smiled instead. A different sort of a smile, a knowing smile, with a touch of sadness to it.

“Silly Goh. The whole point is that they don’t have to fight on their own. We’re a team.”

And Goh’s heart ached badly, painfully. Of course. Of course Satoshi wouldn’t see it that way, the thought wouldn’t have even crossed his mind.

“I mean, a few of my pokemon have gone off to fight on their own, but they were the type to be pretty independent anyway. And even if they weren’t, I still think it’s important they know we’re a team. I’ll fight alongside them, as long as they'll have me.”

Goh nodded, voice not wanting to work for the time beginning.

Satoshi scratched Pikachu under the chin, a contented smile in his eyes.

“Me and my team against the world, right buddy!?”

Pikachu chirped happily in response.

And desperately, so desperately, Goh wanted to respond, “Us against the world, right?” To cry out “We’re a team too,” to whisper “I’ve got your back, I’ll watch out for you,” and other foolish things until Satoshi responded with equally foolish words in return.

However self doubt had long since taken root in Goh’s mind, and his traitorous lips refused to utter the words, for such strong fear of being misunderstood.

Cowardice, such cowardice.

Instead he replied, “Do your best. I’ll cheer for you.”

Somehow, despite himself, he hoped that Satoshi understood what he meant regardless.

“Haha, thanks,” Satoshi said, reaching up as he stretched, taking care not to disturb Pikachu. He yawned, which then turned into a laugh.

“You’re in no rush to get back to training, are you buddy?”

Pikachu, having closed his eyes and made himself comfortable, replied with a sleepy ‘Pikaaaa. Pi-kachu, Pichu.”

Satoshi smiled, eyes shutting slowly as though they were becoming too heavy to keep open.

“That’s what I thought. We can just rest for a little while longer then.”

Stretching out his arms with great effort, Satoshi flopped over to one side, Pikachu crawling out of the way to prevent himself from being tossed out of Satoshi’s lap.

Satoshi stretched out his legs, leaving one just slightly bent as Pikachu made himself comfortable. He turned around in small circles a few times, trying to pat down the grass into the right shape, then curled up against Satoshi’s side. One of Satoshi’s arms, though slightly bent at the elbow, stretched out across the grass, palm facing towards the sky. He let the other lay over Pikachu in a loose but protective hold.

“Just gonna… take a break… in this nice… soft grass…” Satoshi murmured.

Things were still for a moment, or as still as they could be. Goh stared at the piece of grass he had shredded in his hands.

“Hey, Satoshi. Do you think-“ But the words died in Goh’s mouth as he looked up to see what he had suspected. Satoshi had fallen asleep in the shade.

Before he could help it, a soft smile drifted onto Goh’s face, the sight of Satoshi sleeping there so contently somehow relaxing him.

Nothing for it, he supposed, but to follow suit.

Stretching himself out, though not so gracefully as Satoshi had, he presumed, Goh laid against the earth, Satoshi by his side.

His ankles were crossed, one hand under his head, the other by his side. He stared up the tree, wind blowing and shifting the leaves into new untraceable shapes. Something about the disarray was comforting.

His free hand stretched out to reach at the leaves above his head, trying to grasp to no avail. Goh let his hand drop gently, finding it landed in Satoshi’s palm.

He left it there.

The smell of grass, earthy but distinctly sweet in an odd way, drifted along the breeze.

When Satoshi woke up, the grass surely would have left marks on his skin, but he in kind would leave his mark on the grass, a soft shadow of where he had laid.

Goh wondered if he too would leave a mark. On the grass, on the earth, on the boy across from him.

Goh allowed himself to shut his eyes, willing himself to think of the grass, the wind, anything at all so long as for once it could be simple.

Lying there, Goh did not sleep, but he did dream.

[End]

(the art in this chapter was done by a friend, not me! it's wonderful, and you can support them right here: (@atlix2))

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Heartbeat

In a heartbeat the short film... that in an au where your heart literally chases after the person you love. Imagine that with smol lexa being all what is an emotion but her heart is all !!! every time clarke is around. Also pls have it in the canon universe cause that would be a lot more hilarious if the commander of 12 clan's heart is constantly chasing after the commander of death

The rain was not going to interrupt training. It didn’t matter that the world was sloshing full of mud and everything was drenched through completely. The initiates stood at stance one and waited for the signal to attack, defend, and parry.

Even so young, Lexa was deemed a favorite for the conclave. Agile and fast, smart and fierce, she exhibited all of the traits of a good and just ruler. But as the signal went, she proved to those who watched why she was a force to be reckoned with, laying her opponent flat on their back in a matter of seconds and with such dexterity, it was as if she was the rain, moving so quickly, so naturally.

“Lexa, good,” Anya muttered, looking down over her cheekbones as she surveyed the other fights.

With the smallest of grins, the girl of eight nodded and extended her hand to help her partner up from their back in the mud.

“Prepare to go again,” Titus yelled over the rain from his booth above the training grounds.

Lexa didn’t move to push the water out of her eyes, nor did she hear anything other than the beat of her heart in her ears as she sized up her next opponent. Each fight was a matter of life or death to her. That was how she was going to win the entire thing per her plan, because she very much did not want the alternative.

The horn sounded and she prepared again, though this time, something caught the corner of her eye as she dodged an attack from the larger boy opposite her. And she couldn’t hear her heartbeat a second later. Three seconds later, she was on her back, wheezing out a sigh as she had the wind knocked out of her.

“That seems to be enough for the moment. Break out and prepare for study,” their teacher said, dissatisfied to see his star pupil fail.

Lexa accepted the hand given to her by her partner, and when she came up, she looked around to see what had ruined her perfect record. Not by her choosing, her feet followed the sight of stark yellow hair, peaking occasionally through the stalls in the market. The nghtblood found herself ducking baskets and weaving through legs and arms laden with goods as she followed the only color that appeared in the haze of the dreary day.

And then it was gone.

Lost to the crowd and unknown to her, she felt her heartbeat pick up, tapping excitedly, as if it were trying to beat its way out of her chest completely. But she turned around, ready to return to her lesson, slightly afraid of what Titus might--

She made it two steps of not paying attention to smack into the most wonderful pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen in her whole life.

Nose to nose, the two children stood there. The only movement that was made was by Lexa to put her hands over her chest to keep her stupid heart from jumping out completley. It strained there, drawn to this stranger who furrowed and smiled.

“Hi.”

“H-h-hi,” Lexa managed, somewhat cross-eyed at the proximity.

“Are you training to be commander?”

“Yes.”

“That’s cool.”

Lexa gulped and nodded.

“I have to go. We have a long trip back to Arkadia. It was nice to meet you. I hope you win.”

“Thanks.”

With another second between them, the littler girl pushed past the gawking initiate in search of her parents that called her to them again. Lexa turned on her heel to watch the yellow hair disappear into the crowd again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Over the years, Lexa sees the strange girl with the pretty yellow hair out from time to time. And without fail, she follows her at a distance, looking for a way to speak to her, but never knowing what to say.

There was the time when Lexa caught her during a lesson, and asked to be excused, following her as she looked through the market. And there was the time she was at a ceremony, and the yellow hair wove through the crowded street, and Lexa ran down fifty flights of stairs just to lose her completely. There was the time they went to Arkadia as a unity meeting, and Lexa fell off of her horse when she saw the familiar face who furrowed and looked at her in the mud, offering a hand to help her up.

It never ended well, Lexa realized, and yet her feet kept carrying her forward. And she couldn’t stop her heart from doing flips when she met a stranger.

Freshly fourteen, Lexa was undefeatable in combat with her peers. She was gangly and smart, angry at the world and unable to focus on much of anything. It felt as if it’d always been that way, but she remembered a time of not feeling like she wanted to get hurt in combat.

The sky was angry and hot, the sun burning through the trees as she set out on her hunt. Sweat pooled on her shoulders and back as she prowled through the woods in search of an offering for the festivities.

Halfway through, the sound of hooves in the distance, and the deer she was tracking lifted it’s head and ran off while Lexa looked over her shoulder. Despite herself, she moved toward the noise of the people, following the group undetected. Skycru insignia were on their shoulders, and they moved without the grace of someone who was used to the ground.

Annoyed as she was at having to restart, Lexa waited for the group to pass so she could resume but they slowed as they approached the stream, and as she circled toward the other side of the lake, a familiar stock of blonde hair moved through the green.

“I’m going to take the long way around the lake,” the voice called.

“Be safe. Take a radio, Clarke.”

Clarke. That was the name attached to the voice and the eyes and the hair. The hunting trip was forgotten as Lexa followed along toward the lake and the figure that kept her up at night. She hadn’t meant to, but it felt as if she was being tugged in that direction. She paused when Clarke did, peering out from behind a fallen tree trunk.

When the girl she was following turned around upon hearing a noise, Lexa hid, her heart beating in her ears, waiting a few moments to follow as Clarke made it to the lake where she paused and took off her shoes and then her shirt and Lexa was certain her skin was going to melt off.

Clarke took a few steps out toward the water before she jumped, disappearing for a moment and reappearing a little bit further. This happened a few times until she walked back to the shore and took a seat on a long rock, drying in the sun.

Lexa looked at her shoulders, already pealing from a previous tan. She looked at her hair, a lighter yellow than before. She looked at the skin exposed and glowing, shimmering with the droplets--

The crack of a stick below her feet made Clarke sit up and look toward her. Half out of the treeline, Lexa froze, unsure of how she’d moved so close.

“I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa offered quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You’re the girl, from the horse.”

Her face squinched up as she surveyed the newest arrival to the beach.

“Lexa.”

“What are you doing out here? Isn’t there a festival this week in honor of the commanders who have come before?”

“Hunting. I was hunting, to offer to the spirits,” she managed, watching as Clarke swung her legs over and stood there in just her shorts and a bra. It was hard to think of much else.

“Are you hunting me?”

“No, no, of course not. I didn’t-- I just-- I was moving toward the base of the mountain, there’s a spring there, and I was hoping one of my traps-- No, no. I wasn’t.”

Clarke eyed her suspiciously before moving to slide on her shirt. She had a smile that made Lexa’s heart stop.

“Are you going to be the next Commander?”

“I think so,” Lexa nodded, swallowing with the realization, unable to do much else because her chest was constricting and practically pulling her closer though her feet, graciously, remained steady and rooted at the edge of the forest. “I have to go now.”

Before she could hear a response, Lexa turned on her heel and bolted back the way she came, sprinting as fast as she could away from the lake, away from the girl who now had a name, away from the weird way her heart was lead and then lighter than clouds, and then beating so fast it was silent, and then thumping in her ears so loudly it was deafening. She ran as far and as fast and as long as she could before she stopped, in a very different forest, doubling over, she sat down on a rock on the edge of a clearing and tried to catch her breath.

XXXXXXXXX

Newly inaugurated as the proper Commander, Lexa sat on her thrown and took a deep breath, the power of her new position heavy on her shoulders. Thirteen years, she’d been the person who trained for this, and she’d never imagined it’d actually happen. It was always such an abstract idea, that she wasn’t sure what it all meant, just that she was ready.

“The ambassadors are assembled, Heda,” Titus interrupted her meditation.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding for them to be let in.The wisdom of the commanders coursed through her, and there was much to be done. The celebrations would come soon enough; for now, she was ready to prove her worth all over again to the people she needed to understand it.

The ambassadors of the Twelve Clans filtered into their seats on the council, their handful of attaches quietly huddling behind them. When the last clan entered, Lexa gulped.

She had done her best not to think about Clarke. It wasn’t easy,e specially in the days following the lake, but days grew into months, and when Lexa saw a familiar shade of blonde move around her orbit, she refused to follow. She held her heart in her hand and she squeezed and compressed it until it was the size of an arrowhead. She took that tiny, unrecognizable and achy thing, and she locked it in a metal box. She put that box under a boulder that no man could move.

But now the boulder rattled slightly in her chest as she caught Clarke’s eye across the room and cursed that Skycru would be sitting on her left, the closest of any other clan. Clarke smiled at her and stood behind the chair of her people quietly.

“Thank you for coming,” Lexa began after a few seconds. “I have been left with the monumental task of ensuring this coalition survives and keeping it strong. I count on each of the twelve clans to stand behind me now.”

There was a rattle of approval from the people who already loved her. She nodded and held up her hand for their quiet.

“We will be finally dealing with the question of Skycru. It is my goal to strengthen us, and to do that would mean to bring them in as the thirteenth clan, if they can agree to follow our laws.”

She turned her look onto the ambassador and waited for him to speak.

“We want nothing more than to become productive, helpful neighbors to our fellow man,” Marcus explained. “You honor us with your consideration.”

“Heda, surely you can’t allow--”

“Aren’t you sick of war, Ambassador?” she interrupted. “I am. We’ve lost so much. We’ve lost people and time killing each other.”

Without meaning to, she looked over at Clarke and she felt the boulder crack and the little metal box start to shake.

“I was taught that love is weakness, but in reality, love is what defines all of our choices. It is what starts wars, and pride refuses to let us end them, but I do not want to spend my time as Commander responsible for so much death.”

“We have our ways, Heda.”

“And I mean to honor them. It’s time for us to prosper and build a great world,” Lexa explained, looking at Clarke for a moment too long. The metal box was opened and she felt her chest flutter about as her heart stretched it’s legs.

The chorus of people in her room murmured their approval, or at least their moderate acceptance of her plans.

“We will perform the ceremony after my ascension festivities and Skycru will take the brand of the coalition,” Lexa decided. “For now, Skycru is in Polis under my protection as my guests.”

“But, Heda-- the law states that any not in the coalition are due out by sunset.”

“Skycru is here under my protection,” she repeated herself. “Disregard for my word is treason. We welcome them by showing them what our lives look like. I hope you find yourself comfortable in the city.”

With that and little else, Lexa stood and walked through the hall, out of the door before nearly every one of her ambassadors could stand. It took all of her being to not turn around and see Clarke, but instead, she let the doors close and walked quickly to her room.

XXXXXXXXXX

The city was alive with celebrating the newest ascension. They clamoured and sang and drank and toasted to many years of peace and prosperity, to their new Heda, to the new lives they hoped to lead. Below her room, the torches burned and the party continued, destined to last until the morning, though she chose to bow out as early as respectable.

With a sigh, Lexa looked down at the glowing streets and listened to the laughter and music that was carried up to her on the wind, and she smiled.

At the feast, she saw Clarke and smiled, but did nothing else. She was able to keep her heart under control for at least a few hours, which was a sign. She thanked the spirit of the commanders for helping her grow, and hoped it wouldn’t always been this rough. Surely her heart would tire itself out crushing on a complete stranger.

“No more, Titus,” Lexa sighed, heavy and tired as a knock sounded at her door. “The world will be here in the morn--”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Heda.”

Smiling and standing in her room, Lexa looked frantically at her guard, self-conscious that she was just in her sleeping clothes, her armor discarded for the day. She needed something to protect her from Clarke.

“She came with the word of the Ambassador,” her guard explained.

“No, no, thank you, Jax,” Lexa nodded with a furrow, waiting for him to close the door behind him.

“I didn’t get a chance to say hello at the party.”

“I’m sorry. I had to speak with-- You wanted to say hello?”

“Yeah, I remembered you. So much has happened, but we’ve run into each other before.”

Lexa took a step forward despite herself. She felt like she could see her stuipd heart tugging her toward Clarke. She very much wanted to be in her throne, where she couldn’t move.

“Yes, at the lake,” Lexa nodded.

“It was before that,” Clarke explained. “I don’t know if you remember. We were kids. You had the same warpaint then. I spent weeks playing and putting in on with old oil or grease, or whatever I could find.”

That was it. Lexa felt her heart doing backflips in her chest at the idea of Clarke wearing her warpaint. She wanted to see it. She wanted to touch her cheek and lips. She cleared her throat to get a hold of herself, pressing her hand to her chest and letting it drop a second latter.

“I think I remember,” Lexa nodded.

“You were following me at the lake a few years ago. I remember that. And then you ran away.”

“I had to finish preparing my offerings.”

Clarke eyed her, trying to decipher something and failing. Instead, she took a deep breath and a step forward, making Lexa retreat one step.

“You left your own party.”

“I, um. I was tired.’

“Are you tired now?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I didn’t get a chance to give you my offering.”

“Skycru has already performed the--” Lexa watched Clarke take another step forward and she remained rooted. Her heart was thumping in her neck and she was afraid that her head was going to explode. She felt like her skin was on fire.

“Every time I’ve met you, you look like you have something you want to say but can’t. Will you tell me what you’ve been holding?”

“Nothing.”

It was instantaneous that she uttered the response, prepared to die with all of the things left unsaid. That was easier, and for a moment she let herself consider the merits of war as memory-eraser.

“”I won’t say anything. Just say it quickly and then I can give you a present.”

Clarke got her a present. Lexa was the commander of twelve, soon to be thirteen clans, and she felt her body shiver with the idea that Clarke thought about her.

To her credit she debated what to say before deciding that she was the commander and she could do whatever she wanted. So she set her back and shoulders, squared her feet, and met Clarke’s eyes.

“The first day I saw you, I felt this… I felt like my heart was drawn to you. It pulled me through the market until I met you. And every time after that, when I’d see you somewhere, my whole body feels like it’s on fire. I saw you at the lake, and Id idn’t mean to walk toward you, but again, i couldn’t help it. I don’t know how to make it stop, despite my best efforts.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, I know--”

Clarke smiled and pressed her palm on Lexa’s chest, careful to feel the heartbeat growing in that exact spot. She looked at her hand and smiled, pressing there with a little bit of pressure.

“It feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.”

“It might try,” Lexa confessed sheepishly. The blush crept up her neck to her ears. She wasn’t sure why Clarke brought her hand up and placed it on her own chest, but Lexa looked at her palm as it sat on this girl’s chest. She felt a familiar and loud and fast racket.

It took a few moments for Lexa to compute it all, but eventually she realized what it meant.

“You felt it, too?”

“I don’t know what it means,” Clarke shook her head. Lexa just smiled back a her.

“Yes you do.”

Both stood there, hands feeling each other’s hearts beat wild, steady rhythms against their rib cages. Lexa took the time to meet Clarke’s eyes and she stared so intensely, Clarke looked away, a blush on her cheeks.

“I’m not going to--”

Before Clarke could finish, Lexa leaned forward and kissed her. Pressed her lips to hers and held them there, afraid to move any other part of her body, but her neck craning forward. It too a few seconds, but much to her relief, Clarke kissed her back, hands wrapping around her neck and shoulders, pressing her body against her own.

“Wow,” Lexa sighed and chuckled.

“I agree.”

270 notes · View notes

lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Jacaranda pt. 2

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: The next two years at Hogwarts were to be the best in (Y/N)’s life; A happy relationship, friends she could almost call her siblings and subjects she was passionate about. But, Draco Malfoy had other plans for the two, a true test of their faith and trust.

Prompt: Your Draco Malfoy imagine was sooo good! I thought it was so well written and such a nice relationship! It got me thinking about what do you think would happen to them during their 6/7th year? Like I'd assume even though they'd be on opposite sides of the war, she would understand why Draco does what he does... - Anon

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: a bit of swearing, mention of blood

A/N: I just felt like their story needed more, you know? idk. felt inspired and wanted to write for Draco again! I really enjoy writing conflict. Wild.

Part 1

The train was solemn, quiet, almost. Normally, (Y/N) found herself enjoying the laughter of the students around her, finding solace in the few friends she had acquired over the years. This year, however, (Y/N) sat next to Draco, quietly holding his hand as the train barreled towards Hogwarts. He hadn’t been the same since his father was thrown in to Azkaban, for good reason, (Y/N) thought. Draco idolized his father, tried to prove himself worthy to the man any chance he could.

The past summer was the first she had spent without Draco, without the laughter and sunshine he brought into her already bleak life. She found her afternoons lackluster, trying to read her textbooks underneath the glow of the blue tree, trying to bring herself to think of anything but him. Though they had confessed their truest feelings, the entirety of their relationship was thrown to the back burner as Draco claimed he had ‘more important things’ to attend to that summer.

(Y/N) knew she shouldn’t take it seriously, that losing his father was taking a toll on him. He neglected to send back owls, only finding it in himself to respond curtly, in short sentences when he did. Once, she received a letter with only two words; ‘trust me’. (Y/N) tried, tried terribly hard to believe him, to trust that Draco was alright. Even when the Malfoy’s were invited to the (L/N) Estate for lunch, Narcissa was the only one to show. To say that she was angry would be the smallest of understatements.

Still, she persisted to be a good friend, to comfort him in any way she knew how. She didn’t need to yell at Draco, as badly as she knew he deserved to hear her vile words, the one’s she had crafted over the summer, she held her tongue, quietly listening to the chatter around her.

“When do you suppose we’ll arrive to Hogwarts?” Pansy Parkinson asked, seated directly across the table from the couple, her eyes digging directly into (Y/N)’s profile.

“Roughly the same time as always, Parkinson,” Draco spat, his fingers tapping rapidly against the tabletop. Almost frantic. “Hogwarts,” he laughed. “What a pathetic excuse for a school.”

“Draco,” (Y/N) mumbled, squeezing his hand for just a moment. She noted the way his features softened, briefly, his eyes looking warmer for the second he relaxed. “Are you alright?”

“Never been better, (Y/N),” Draco said, uninterested. “Just can’t wait to get back to classes, to learning about stupid spells and stupid plants—”

“Draco,” (Y/N) said, repeating his name.

“What?” He spat, turning directly towards (Y/N), now facing her head on. He stared at her for a minute, his brows furrowed tightly together. “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” (Y/N) said, pulling her hand away, her face hardened. “I think-I think I’ll leave you be,” she stood up. “Slughorn invited me to his carriage earlier, I’m going to take him up on his offer, I think,” (Y/N) said, turning her back to Draco. “I’ll…” she paused, her eyes flicking over the darkened boy, wondering where the light in him went. “I’ll see you.”

(Y/N) didn’t see much of Draco, practically at all. After confronting him about Potter’s broken and bloodied nose, Draco practically avoided (Y/N) every chance he got for a week after the fact, dodging her in the halls, once jumping over the couch in their common room to get past her. She had no idea where he was off to, where his mind was at. (Y/N) was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Despite her morals getting the better of her, (Y/N) decided the only way to confront Draco was to follow him. He hadn’t been showing up to classes, even when he did, his mind was elsewhere, face bleak and empty. She found, that he clung to Crabbe and Goyle more than normal, having them follow him like bodyguards, unlike his usual gaggle of lackeys. It wasn’t until she followed him to the seventh floor, past the ghastly tapestry that she knew where he was going.

The Room of Requirement. (Y/N) was aware of the room, having trained in Dumbledore’s Army for much time in her last year, hiding from the scrutiny and force of Dolores Umbridge. What on earth could Draco have a need for that the room could provide? A place to reflect? To mourn?

She took a deep breath, pacing in front of the bare wall. Three times, she reminded herself. Three times she needed to walk past the wall, to really have the room understand what she required. After her third circle, a door grew, appearing from the marbling of the walls. Hesitantly, she opened it, finding herself surrounded by various objects, ranging in size and shape. A loud clatter could be heard farther in the room.

“Draco?” (Y/N) asked, walking towards the noise. Funneling past bookshelves, layers of dust coating a few. The rustling stopped, leaving (Y/N) hopelessly lost, until, however, she found the tip of a wand pressing against the flesh of her cheek.

“(Y/N)?” Draco said, relaxing his arm, his hand hovering in front of her face.

“Will you put your wand away?” (Y/N) said, pushing the stick away from her, down to Draco’s side. “Godric, sometimes you just get so trigger-happy.”

“How did you find me?” Draco asked again, his fist curling tightly around the base of his wand. “You should be in Potions class right now, surely you didn’t—”

“Skip?” (Y/N) laughed. “That’s a laugh, coming from you.”

“Why did you, then? Follow me?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Draco,” (Y/N) said plainly, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I’ve figured the only way to get you to talk to me is to find out where you’ve been going. I also figured that of all the teachers to be lax about me skipping would be Slughorn, considering…”

“Considering the stupid involvement you have in his ‘Slug Club’?” Draco spat, only mildly annoyed.

“Hey, it’s a stupid club but it’s my stupid club,” (Y/N) retorted, crossing her arms. “He’s dull, but I find it comforting to be wanted somewhere for once, Draco,” she clicked. “Somewhere where I can be noted for my accomplishments. Not that you’d care enough about it.”

“(Y/N), did you really come here just to yell at me?” Draco asked, putting his wand in the back pocket of his trousers, now completely at ease with her presence. His eyes flicked around to the various objects beside (Y/N), never directly looking at her. “I’m not in the mood to fight, quite exhausted, really.”

“You look it,” (Y/N) said, noting the dark circles under Draco’s eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” her hand rose to his jaw, thumb tracing underneath the growing bags hanging under his eyes, puffy and irritated.

“Always the detective,” Draco said, pushing her hand away gently. “Of course I haven’t been sleeping, my father was thrown into Azkaban. The Malfoy’s are the laughing stock of The Prophet, the butt of everyone’s jokes,” he spat, running a hand through his unruly hair, (Y/N) noted how it wasn’t styled like it normally was. “I’ve been… busy, taking over the position as the head of the Malfoy family.”

“Draco, you don’t mean—”

“Are you really all that surprised?” Draco asked, staring (Y/N) directly in her eyes. “Since my father was caught, the Dark Lord needed someone to take his place—to finish the task that he was supposed to fulfill, to have me prove my place—”

“Your arm,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand out. “Show me. Now, Draco.”

“Do you really need proof?” He chided, cocking his head to the side. “Do you really need to hurt yourself over it?”

“Yes,” she said, offering her hand again, preparing herself to forcibly pull his jumper off of him. “I need to see it, Draco. I don’t believe you, I don’t believe that you’d actually—”

It was then, in the filtering light from the lamp above that (Y/N) saw it, the mark. Draco had ripped his sleeve upward, shining the black branding at (Y/N), the snake wriggling ever so slightly. She looked up at Draco’s face, noting the pain etched into his features. Fear, loathing, disappointment.

“Go on,” Draco said, thrusting his forearm closer to (Y/N). “Get a better look! Take it all in, (Y/N)! Is this the proof you wanted? Is this what you really wanted to see? Does it make you feel better?”

“Of course it doesn’t!” (Y/N) screamed, throwing her hands into fists, tightly holding them to her sides. “In no universe could this make me feel better, Draco! Godric, here I thought you’d be strong enough to ignore him, wise enough to get out of this mess before it swallowed you whole!”

“You think too highly of me.”

“I do because I love you, Draco!” (Y/N) spat, punching his chest, pushing him back a few steps. “Damnit,” she stumbled, rising her hand again, ready to strike. “You… you git!”

Draco grabbed her wrist, stopping the incoming blow. “Love?” he clicked, throwing her hand to the side. “Please. You could never really love me, love the things that I’ve had to do.”

“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) said, feeling the tears stinging in her eyes, threatening to fall. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Draco. What? Are we going to ignore everything that happened to us? Our entire lives? The last year?”

“I can,” Draco clicked, his face stony. “You should too. Forget about me, run off with your pathetic do-good friends, it’ll pay off in the long-run, maybe you’ll be safe.”

“So that’s what this is? You’re trying to push me away,” (Y/N) said, taking a few steps back, her shoe hitting the foot of a chair. “You’re pathetic, Draco Malfoy.”

“I’m doing it because I care about you—”

“If you really cared, you’d stop,” (Y/N) said plainly. “I know that you’ve—you’ve got to do this,” she shook her head, almost unwillingly. “I know that’s what he wants you to think.”

“You could join,” Draco said, pulling on her jumper sleeve, hanging onto the threads with every ounce of will he could. “But,” his arm went slack. “I know that’s not—not what’s best for you. I’m trying, (Y/N),” his voice grew smaller. “I’m just trying to save my family. I have to do this, to ensure that he won’t lay a finger on anyone I care about, you included.”

“I doubt I’m at the top of his list,” (Y/N) scoffed, pulling her arm away.

“Really?” Draco laughed pitifully. “You don’t think so? (Y/N) (L/N), daughter and Heiress of the esteemed (L/N) family, famously standing to the side of the war, blending into the grey of the matter, taking neither side,” he held up his fingers, counting off. “Friends with Harry Potter, the number one enemy to the Dark Lord,” he pushed the pad of his finger back, making a point. “Girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, the son of his most recent oversight!”

“‘Girlfriend’? So now we’re using that word?” (Y/N) said, her tone growing sour. “Funny, people don’t usually treat their girlfriends this way, do they?”

“What else do you want me to do, (Y/N)?” Draco laughed again, the sound almost painful. “I’ve been trying everything, anything, to get you to stop following me,” he sighed, pausing for a moment. “You don’t believe in him, the Dark Lord.”

“Of course I don’t, I never have—”

“Then leave,” Draco said simply. “Leave before it gets real, (Y/N). Forget about me, ignore the things I have to do. Run, far away from all of this.”

“You really think that, don’t you?” (Y/N) shook her head, fighting the tears. “You want me to believe that you’re the monster, right? Right?!” Her words echoed against the various objects surrounding them, somehow floating in the air. Draco stood silent. “Fine then. Be happy. You’re the monster you’ve always feared.”

(Y/N) turned around, afraid she might cry, sob openly in front of the person she least wanted the pleasure of seeing it. A few quick skips and almost tripping over a large black cabinet, (Y/N) exited into the empty corridor. She knew that Draco had no choice, knew deep down that he was doing what he thought was right. She just wished that she was a part of that plan.

She didn’t speak to Draco for the rest of the year, unless it was purely in an academic setting. As badly as (Y/N) wanted to curse him into oblivion, she knew that this fight, the war that was directly under their noses, was the rift that inevitably was to tear them apart. She threw herself into her studies, gaining high marks in each of her classes, learning each and every curse and hex she could muster. If there was to be a war, a big one at that, she had to prepare herself.

(Y/N) had heard of the cursed locket, the poisoned mead. Harry tried to convince his peers, his friends, that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and her intended on killing Dumbledore. (Y/N) didn’t need much convincing, but she hardly gave Harry the satisfaction of being right. She never shared Draco’s secret, his mark, intending to take it to her grave. A last bit of thanks she owed the boy. The last bit she would owe him, ever.

When she heard of what Harry had done to Draco, (Y/N) couldn’t even bring herself to cry, to feel remorse. She knew it was terrible, what had happened, she knew she should’ve visited him in the Hospital Wing, hold his hand. But, she also knew it was against everything Draco wanted. He didn’t deserve the pleasure of seeing her, being comforted by her. After everything he said, what he said he wanted from her, she couldn’t bring herself to bother caring.

“There might be a fight,” Harry spoke honestly, pulling (Y/N) out of her mental tangent. “Death Eaters, in the school,” he swallowed thickly. “We need all the man-power we can get, if need be.”

“We’ve got your back, Harry,” Neville said, proudly. “Dumbledore’s Army, forever.”

“We can help,” Luna agreed, nodding her head.

(Y/N) sat for a moment, feeling a sense of pride well in her chest. The group of stragglers stared at the Slytherin, eyes flicking over her profile. She knew she had to answer, knew she finally had to pick a side. No longer will she be pushed to the sidelines, ignoring this impending war, much like her cowardice parents did once before. She finally stepped out of both ponds, picking a side.

“I’m in,” (Y/N) said, face hardened. “You can count on me.”

She stood with Harry.

Her seventh year was nothing like she had ever imagined it to be. The war was looming around them, Voldemort had taken over the Ministry, appointing Severus Snape to be Headmaster of the school. (Y/N) had deliberated on wether or not to even return to the wizarding school, if at all. Many of her classmates had made similar choices.

The atmosphere in the Slytherin House was a dark one, the majority of the house overjoyed with how the school was being run, how the war was turning out. Many of the students had Death Eater family members, or just supported Voldemort in the war anyway, leaving little worrying in the dungeons.

(Y/N) had never felt more alone. Her closest friends hadn’t shown up to school for that year, not sharing any insight on to their whereabouts or plans. She knew, however, that it was imperative that they kept the casualties to a minimum, knew that their lack of sharing was their way of keeping her and their other friends safe. Regardless, (Y/N) felt the people she had grown closest to were farther away than ever.

She had, however, toyed with the notion of talking to Draco. He, much to everyone’s surprise, showed up for the following school year. Many thought that he’d go and fully join Voldemort and his goons, but, nonetheless, there he sat, staring at the fireplace in the common room. He looked broken, eyes empty. Maybe she should entertain the idea some more.

“(Y/N),” he called from the couch, eyes not leaving the fireplace. He had caught her before she rose to her dormitory. Guess the time was now.

“Yes?” (Y/N) replied, turning to the blonde. She made sure to keep her voice level, composure even. “What do you want?”

“We should… talk,” Draco said, tapping his fingers rhythmically onto the arm of the dark green couch. “I haven’t—we haven’t spoken…”

“Funny,” (Y/N) spat. “I wonder why that is,” she began to turn back, only to hear a deep sigh come from Draco. “Alright, fine,” she moved over to the couch, standing squarely in front of the boy, crossing her arms. “Talk.”

“Wouldn’t you rather take a seat?”

“No.”

“Alright.”

Draco stared at his shoes, all black and polished. He didn’t quite know what to say, or how to say it. How could he? Surely he had broken her heart, if any of the pain was as mutual for their split in the last year was nearly as close to his. The large clock that hung in the center of the wall, off to the right of the fireplace ticked slowly, menacingly at the two.

“Well?” (Y/N) tapped her foot, the sound almost akin to a soft slap. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, fearing it was all he could say. “Sorry for everything—”

“Are you?” She cut him off, leaning towards the blonde. “Are you really all that sorry? You don’t seem sorry, you seem sorry for the guilt you’ve caused for yourself.”

“I heard… about your parents—”

“Yeah? I’m sure you have, seen them at a few meetings, have you?” (Y/N) chuckled airily, loosening her arms for just a moment. “They’ve finally picked a side, good on them, right? I’m sure the Dark Lord is pleased to have the elusive and cowardice (L/N)’s on his side finally, yeah? Another pure-blooded family to add to the army?”

“(Y/N)…”

“No,” (Y/N) said, holding a finger. “You wanted to talk, so I’m going to talk,” she spat, making a point. “If you think for even a second that I’m going to follow suit with my parents, you’d be dead wrong.”

“Of course I don’t think you’re going to join,” Draco scoffed, finally growing annoyed. “You’d think your years of trailing behind Potter and his Gryffindor goons would’ve given me any other reason to believe that?”

“You still aren’t getting it, are you?” (Y/N) clicked, her arms now comfortably resting at her sides. “This isn’t about Potter anymore, Draco! This is a matter of war,” she let out a sigh, feeling the dark pit in her stomach burble.

“Yeah? Seems to me it’s still pretty much about Potter, isn’t it?”

“Merlin’s beard, will you stop talking about Potter for once?” (Y/N) said, finally releasing the words she’d pent up for years, always hidden on the back burner. “People are dying, Draco. Innocent people, with families and children. People are dying because of Voldemort’s sick and twisted narrative on what society should be, what our world should look like. But yeah, go off about Potter again.”

“Godric, (Y/N), you infuriate the shit out of me sometimes,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that I’m more than capable to understand what he’s doing?”

“You’re more than capable,” (Y/N) said, nodding lightly. “I just don’t understand why you’re still fighting on the wrong side—”

“Here we go with the ‘wrong side’ nonsense,” Draco rose to his feet, squarely standing in front of (Y/N). “Do you know why I even bothered to show up to school this year? Why I’m not out there with him?”

“It’s compulsory, mandatory for students to show up this year, if not—”

“It’s because I have a better chance of staying alive in these walls than out there,” Draco raised a finger, pointing to the outside world beyond the windows. “Even with my father now out of Azkaban, our family is still vying for his approval, still under scrutiny of what my father did.”

“Bully for you,” (Y/N) said cooly. “I’m sure your involvement with Dumbledore’s assassination sufficed enough, yeah?”

“You know about that?” Draco asked, pausing for a moment, taking a step back.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, Draco,” (Y/N) laughed, picking at her nails for just a moment, trying to ignore how badly she wanted to slap him. “Harry had his suspicions all last year. My parents just couldn’t stop talking about it after their first real meeting. They never really cared for Dumbledore, they were just dying to share the news when I got back that summer.”

“I’m not the one who—”

“Do you think that it even matters? To me, anyway?”

“I guess not.”

“Say all you want about Hogwarts and how ‘poorly’ it was run before, but if you try to look me in the eyes and tell me that this Hogwarts, the one where we’re forced to use the fucking Cruciatus curse on anyone, try to tell me that this Hogwarts is what’s right in the world?” (Y/N) spat, barely taking another breath between her words. “I’m one of the lucky few, the Carrows don’t pay much attention to me unless I speak up—”

“Which you do—”

“Of course I do!” (Y/N) finally shouted. “I’m not going to stand around and watch children, literal children, get hexed and cursed and beaten because they won’t follow their ruling! Haven’t you noticed that I’m sporting this look of late?” She ran her finger to her cheek, a swollen and violently red bump met her touch. “Got that one for standing up for Neville, for doing what he’s doing.”

“Longbottom? Serves you right, anyone deserves to be beaten for standing up for that numpty,” Draco clicked, crossing his arms, receding back to the cushions of the couch. “Him, Weasley and Lovegood have been vandalizing the walls with their rubbish, speaking out too often, getting in the way of the Carrows.”

“Don’t you reckon I’m helping them?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Draco admitted. “Yes.”

“Then why do you sound surprised? Why are you ever shocked with my choices? You’ve known that I’ve made these choices in the past, yet every time I go against what you’d want me to do, you look like the world has ended,” (Y/N) said, her voice cooling down. “We’ve had similar starts in life, yeah, but where we are now,” she pointed a finger between the two, pushing it back and forth. “Is a direct correlation of character, Draco Malfoy. A testament to our true nature.”

“Funny,” Draco clicked his tongue. “You never thought that this life,” he pulled up his sleeve, the Dark Mark shining brighting against his pale skin. “That these choices defined me all those years ago, what changed? Was it this mark? Or was it the brainwashing of the others around you?”

“Shove off, Malfoy,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing a hand to her hair. “Of course it was the mark! In years past it was easy to throw your name-calling and bullying under the rug, I hoped you would grow out of it…” She paused for a moment, hearing the loud clicks of the seconds passing by. “I still think you can,” (Y/N) said, a bit lower than before. “And I think you know that, too.”

“Doubtful.”

“There’s conflict in you,” (Y/N) said, lowering her hand. “You would’ve gone through with killing Dumbledore yourself if there wasn’t. I urge you to be better, trust yourself, not the words of the people around you. Listen to what Draco really has to say.”

(Y/N) exited the room, the weight of her words weighing heavily on Draco’s shoulders.

The air was somber, thick with sorrow and relief. The war had ended. Voldemort was dead. Friends and family were dead. The celebration in the Great Hall was of a temperate energy. While most were elated for the war to finally be over, many were still in mourning of the ones they had lost.

(Y/N), now covered in soot and blood, made her way through the hall. Her parents had fled the scene, not wanting to take part in the battle, on either side, truly showing their nature as the greyest of cowards. She nodded at friends she had passed, many scowled at her uniform, still wearing the green of Slytherin house, but it did not matter. What did matter, was the trio of blondes, all seated together, looking as if they didn’t belong.

“Draco,” (Y/N) sighed, finally making eye contact with the boy.

“(Y/N),” his blue-grey eyes lit up with a spark, jolting from the spot between his parents. He pulled her into a high embrace, unsure of what else to do. They could feel the eyes of the Malfoy’s on their backs, but didn’t care. (Y/N)’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, leaning up to hold him closer. Draco felt himself melt into the touch, his head falling into the crook of her neck. They didn’t speak, but merely swayed for a moment, the world around them unmoving.

“Hi,” (Y/N) said, pulling her head away, eyes flicking between Draco’s.

“Hi,” Draco repeated, chuckled airily as he fought a grin.

“You’re alive,” she mumbled into his chest, taking in the sickly smell of sweat and dirt.

“I know.”

“I’ve been thinking,” (Y/N) said, loosening her arms just a bit, but still not disconnecting from Draco.

“A dangerous pastime,” Draco said, finally succumbing to his grin. He couldn’t help it. “What’ve you been thinking about?”

“All of this,” (Y/N) said, honestly. “Us.”

“Us?” Draco said, his brows furrowing closer together. “What about us?”

“Knocking on death’s door really puts life into perspective, you know?” (Y/N) said, glancing back up at the boy. “Makes you realize what you really want in life, while you still can.”

“And that’s what you really want?” Draco asked, almost hesitating. “You want me? Us?” (Y/N) nodded, the trace of a smile pulling at her lips. “I thought you were still mad at me, bloody hell, I know I would be.”

“I am,” (Y/N) nodded again. “Still mad at you, I mean. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it,” she laughed, the sound ringing into Draco’s ears. As beautiful as a bell. “But, you’ve changed. You still have conflict, I feel it in you, Draco. But you’ve chosen the right side, finally. Much more to work on, but that can be arranged,” (Y/N) smiled. “But, people do crazy things, think crazy things when…”

“When what?” Draco poked, knowing full well what (Y/N) was to say next. “Tell me, (Y/N), people do crazy things when what?”

“Shove it, Malfoy,” she said, pushing his face playfully away, her own shining as red as tomatoes. “You know full well what I was going to say.”

“You’re right,” Draco hummed, rocking back and forth on his toes, unsure of what to do. “I do.”

“Glad to see that you’re not as dim as I thought—”

“I love you.”

The words were quick, meaningful. Draco had never said them aloud, never fully to her. Only in his dreams did he imagine the moment would come where he could share his feelings with the one he desperately wanted to. Even in their fifth year, when their feelings collided, he never, truly, said those pesky three words. (Y/N) was always the one to say them, always two steps ahead.

“You—what?” (Y/N) babbled, stunned by the sudden confession.

“I love you,” Draco repeated, his words more determined. He ran his hand to her cheek, holding it gently. “Honestly, (Y/N), you should get your ears checked out, perhaps they were injured in midst the battle?”

“Funny,” (Y/N) clicked, leaning into his touch. “I just never thought that you’d actually—wow,” she shook her head slightly. “I never imagined that—”

“Would you shut up for a moment so I can kiss you?” Draco said, placing his thumb over her lips, successfully silencing the girl. (Y/N) nodded lightly, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

He pulled her in fiercely, his hand pushing itself behind her head, pulling her lips to his quickly. This is what they’d been fighting for all along, it was clear to both Draco and (Y/N). How plain it was, now that they had each other in their arms. The kiss was soft, full of their respect, their love for one another.

They had felt it, the eyes of the hall on them. Perhaps that’s what caused the two to pull away so soon, but even with the eyes of the world on the couple, they knew that it would be harder to separate them now than ever.

“I suppose…” (Y/N) said, interlacing her fingers with Draco’s. “I suppose you should get back to your parents.”

“You’re right,” Draco hummed, his eyes still glued to the girl before him. “We should get back to them.”

“We?”

“It’d be nice to reunite them with the little (L/N) girl, wouldn’t it? The one they’d been on my back about marrying anyway?” He grinned, watching (Y/N)’s smile creep up her face. “I’m sure they saw what just happened anyway, mum’d be on my back if I didn’t pull you over there anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right,” (Y/N) said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s go, then.”

The two walked hand in hand, not a care in the world for anyone but each other. They sat near Draco’s parents, smiling like idiots, watching the sunshine crawl over Narcissa’s face, the realization of happiness emitted in her son’s appearance. Lucius sat stiffly, unassuming to the whole affair, but proudly listened to (Y/N)’s quiet words of affection she had for his son.

Draco and (Y/N) continued to hold their hands, the feeling of warmth between their fingers radiated into their very hearts. Neither of the two were going to let go anytime soon, for they were not ignorant enough to let it happen again.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers , @greeneyedthief, @kitkatkl , @thelightsideoflife , @thataudreydork

if your name is crossed out, i could not tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out to me if that’s the case.

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with! PLEASE BE SPECIFIC ON WHAT TAG LIST YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED ON!

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy imagine #maybe i like writing for draco #hard maybe my dudes #hope you like it!!

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myhusbandsasemni · 3 years

Text

Burns and Rescue

The Adventurers

CW: Burns, mentions of torture and experimentation

WC: 2474

.............................

“I need your help, master,” Rin said. He stood in the dusty beams of light that filtered into Old Man Ralph’s house. The house always seemed to be bathed in a sunset glow, the light dancing across the piles of books and playing on the bottles in the cupboards and on the shelves.

Ralph looked up and raised a bushy eyebrow. “What for? You Adventurers don’t need my help.”

“Well, I need your help this time,” Rin said desperately. “You have to understand, there’s a man I need to go rescue, but he’s severely burned. The shock of the rescue might kill him and I need another medic who can deal with deep tissue burns.”

Ralph froze and turned fully to Rin, his wolf ears tilted in high alert. “Rin,” the old man said, “I can just go dancing off into a fight. I’m old and frail and-”

“You’re not frail!” Rin protested seriously. “I’ve seen you work on a surgery for 9 hours straight. That is not a feat that a frail man could manage. Please. I know you hate adventures and motion and danger, but this is something we can’t do alone. He was sick and dying and I couldn’t do anything! I left him behind and I NEED to rescue him and I can’t do that without……. Oh. You’re coming?”

Ralph looked up from the bag he was packing and rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m coming, if only for the bragging rights. Stop your blathering and help me pack.”

Rin grinned and hurried to do as the old surgeon asked.

…………………..

The dark building brought up unpleasant, half formed memories in Rin’s mind. It was a very unassuming block of concrete. There was no decoration to it at all. It really was just a hollowed out block of cement and metal. Rin grimaced, leaning into his best friend, Laurance, for a bit of comfort. He could almost hear Simon’s screams in his mind.

He was back in the blank hallways, only decorated with his and Simon’s gasps of pain and fluids from their weeping wounds.

“We’re almost out,” Rin had gasped, holding his arm where a guard had dislocated his shoulder. “Come on, Simon. We’re almost out!”

Simon had panted behind him, his arms awkwardly out to his sides to avoid chafing the burns. “I’m coming,” he’d called, his voice pained.

Rin barreled through a door, banging his shoulder on the way through. He screamed as his shoulder popped back into place, as intended. He shook stars out of his eyes as his healing processes bound his ligaments tightly back in place.

He paused so he could run alongside Simon, one hand on his lower back to help him run. The sounds of the guards were coming up behind them. They didn’t have much time. Rin leapt up on a counter and smashed open a window. The first window he’d seen since he’d been brought here that led outside. The haze of light on the horizon where the sun would be rising gave Rin such a rush of relief and joy he nearly passed out. He climbed through, breaking the glass so Simon wouldn’t receive the cuts that were already healing across Rin’s own body. The adrenaline the werewolf felt was the only thing that was keeping him going.

He turned to reach and help Simon, but the guards were already pouring into the room. Simon was backed up against the counter, shaking. He twisted his head, burned arms up in the air. “Rin!! GO!”

“Simon, I-”

“GET OUT OF HERE!”

Rin froze for only a moment. A guard shot a taser at him through the window while others took Simon roughly by the arms. Rin fell back, dodging the prongs and sickened by Simon’s screams of pain as his burned skin shed off underneath the rough treatment.

Rin stood up and ran off through the trees, sticks stabbing at his bare feet, branches whipping across his hospital gown, and tears streaming down his face.

He’d been found in a town about an hour away on foot, curled up in a ball outside of a vet clinic. He couldn’t remember much after his escape. His brain had shut down.

It was now two weeks later, and Rin had found his way back. Laurance glanced at his friend with a concerned look as Rin came back to the present. Rin shook his head, fingering the crossbow charm that hung around his neck. He could feel Kiera’s comforting hand on his lower back as she and Anisha discussed if they wanted to go in sneaky, or swords blazing.

“Kay,” Laurance said when the discussion stopped. “Kiera and Souka will cause a distraction, Anisha will go and find the control center and solve what this place is exactly and if there are more of them, and Rin and I will go and find Simon. Is that what the plan is?”

“Sounds good to me,” Kiera said with a nod, icing her knuckles in preparation for the fight.

Rin nodded.

“And what about me?” Ralph asked, sounding very miffed that they had forgotten him.

“You’ll be coming with Laurance and I to help Simon,” Rin said seriously, clicking back into his place on the team. “Who knows what they’ve done to him since I escaped.”

“Let’s go then,” Anisha said. She became invisible and was off like a shot.

Laurance and Rin waited until Kiera and Souka had entered before they snuck around with Ralph to where the window was that Rin had escaped through. Rin almost swore when he saw the opening had been filled with concrete.

“We’ll find another way in,” Laurance said reassuringly. “Maybe Anisha found a sneaky way and we can follow her.”

“Just hurry up,” Ralph said, med pack strapped to his back and cane in one hand ready for some butt kicking. “I’m ready to get my bragging rights with healing this Simon of yours.”

‘Nisha,’ Laurance said in the mind link. ‘How did you get through?’

‘Window on the second floor,’ came the cheerful reply from the Scaleon inside.

Laurance located the window. Rin went first, scaling the wall. Laurance paused to let Ralph complain and get on his back before jumping up and getting through with Rin’s help. Once inside, they found themselves in a lab. The sounds of a fight had started up somewhere on the east side of the building that didn’t quite mask the sounds of a keyboard in the next room. Anisha was busy doing her job.

“This way,” Rin muttered, getting out into the halls. “We were kept in the basement.”

The other two followed, Laurance sticking close to Ralph as he was the assigned bodyguard at the moment. Ralph just seemed vaguely annoyed by the time it was taking to get down to the injured man.

Once on the first floor, Rin had no trouble remembering where the basement stairs were. He popped the locked door open after only a moment and descended into the horrid darkness.

‘I’m sure there will be scientists we have to watch for down here,’ Rin mindspoke, eyes darting across the dark rooms.

Laurance sent an affirmation to Rin and drew his sword. With scientists, he doubted he’d have to use it, but it was a good threat display.

Rin shuddered as he passed a room he remembered all too well as an experimentation room. He’d spent a good three days in that room being ripped apart and getting healed up again by his own magic.

They came to a room that was definitely full of people. Laurance pushed past the two to peer through. Scientists were conducting experiments with chemicals and whatever else. Laurance backed up. He had not seen Simon, or any other prisoners, in the room. Rin led the way past silently until they reached a corridor of cells. The doors were made of a see through material. Some had scratch marks in their surfaces, almost all were empty.

Rin only glanced at the cell where he was kept, recognizing the marks of each of the scotches he’d made on the walls. It was the only thing he had to entertain himself while he was trapped here. That and talking to-

“Simon,” Rin breathed when he saw the man laying in the corner of the cell. Rin quickly opened the pad, put in the numbers he’d seen the scientists put in hundred of times, numbers he’d memorized in case they’d need it during their escape.

When the door slid open, Rin dropped to his knees by Simon’s side. The man had shifted upon hearing his name, but his eyes were dull with fever and he shuddered under Rin’s touch. He probably didn’t even recognize the werewolf.

“Oh, no no no,” Rin crooned, pulling back the hospital robe Simon was wearing. The burns from whatever the scientists were giving him had spread. They coated his arms and hands, but were creeping out onto his torso and up his neck. It was a wonder the man was still alive.

Ralph was by his student in an instant, cutting open the sleeves and sneering at the poor attempt at bandages on the man’s arms.

“I’ll give him something to bolster him. I can’t do anything else until we get back to the med bay,” Ralph said, pulling out a potion and taking some of it into a syringe. He quickly emptied it in the man’s chest where it would circulate quickly.

Rin rolled out a shock blanket and they loaded Simon onto it gently. The man was so out of it that he could only twitch when pain lanced across his body. They wrapped the blanket around him and Rin lifted the man carefully. He was so skinny now. He’d been here longer than Rin had. Even before Rin had been brought here. Rin bit his lip, calculating everything. There was a very good chance that Simon would die, even before they made it back to the med bay.

“It’s okay, my friend,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it took so long to come back. I’m getting you out.”

Laurance was out in the halls first. ‘Should I take care of the scientists?’ he mind asked.

‘I’m thinking we just lock them in their lab,’ Rin replied. ‘We can send people to deal with them later.’ Rin widened his call and mind asked Kiera, ‘Is it safe for us to leave through the front doors?’

‘Should be all good,’ Kiera sent, giving the impression of flicking her tails with a sense of satisfaction.

Laurance went off to lock the scientist in the lab, which he succeeded in. He jammed the doors so they wouldn’t open, ignored the scientists pleas and caught up with Rin as they reached the front doors.

“Let’s get out of here,” Rin said to Anisha, who was waiting for them outside after finishing her job. Laurance opened a portal as Anisha finished. He put extra care into making the portal steady. A wobbly portal could cause injuries to become worse, and while he hadn’t made a wobbly portal in months, any detriment to Simon’s health could likely kill the man. They portaled into their medical room in the Hoard and Rin, Ralph, and Anisha set to work in healing the man. Laurance put a hand on Souka’s shoulder and smiled. From what he’d glimpsed through the mind link, his boy had done very well in the fight, even taking out a third of the force while Kiera dealt with the rest. All with minimal casualties.

“Wanna go make some food?” Laurance asked Souka.

Souka nodded, knowing that making food was exactly what Laurance would need to distract himself while they waited for the medics to finish up with Simon. Kiera would have to help this time so she couldn't bug Laurance or play games with them until Simon was stable. Her cooling powers would be needed on his burns.

So, the boys left them to it and went upstairs to make food for the others when they emerged from the hours of healing that were ahead of them.

……………………

The healing was exhausting. Thankfully, Rin had plenty of material to print new skin for Simon. He looked kind of patchwork when they finished, but he was breathing better and he didn’t look as sick. Rin had eaten afterwards and then gone to pass out while Laurance cleaned the med bay after the surgery and looked after Simon. It was nice to have a friend who only needed three hours of sleep, especially when there were things to be done and you needed sleep.

Rin grabbed a cup of coffee when he woke and went down to sit by Simon’s bed. He was nervous, but hopeful. Simon had actually done very well during the surgery. Perhaps the scientists put something in him that made him more resilient. Rin mulled that over in his head, sipping at his coffee slowly.

Simon woke up around the time Rin was thinking about getting a new cup of coffee. Rin leaned forward into Simon’s line of sight as the man took a deep breath. He whimpered a little and the werewolf quickly soothed him.

“Simon, I don’t know if you recognize me without those robes on,” Rin smiled a little to himself over the hours they’d spent complaining about the clothing. “But it’s me. Rin.”

Simon peered at him from one eye. “R...Rin? You…. no.'' Simon groaned. “They caught you again.”

“No, no, no, my friend,” Rin said, ears twitching as he put his hand on the man’s forehead. “Simon, I got away. And I came back. I’m just sorry that it took me so long to do so. But you’re safe. We’re at my house, now.”

Simon stared at Rin and a relieved smile grew on his face. He relaxed into the blankets with a happy chuckle. “I knew you’d come back,” he said warmly.

Rin smiled. “Of course. I promised I’d take you out to watch some movies. Not to mention have a drinking competition. Once you’re healed, of course.”

“Of course.” Simon was silent for a moment. “I imagined being free so many times while I was in there. I imagined how I would feel, what I would do……... Now that I’m out, I’m most excited to be able to sleep….. without having to worry about waking up to more experiments.”

“I can imagine,” Rin said, agreement in his tone. “Hey, are you in any pain at all?”

“No,” Simon said softly. “I just want sleep…. And Rin. Thank you.”

“No problem man.”

“When you rescued me, I thought you were a god coming to take me to the next life.”

Rin chuckled. “Not a god.”

“Not a god,” Simon agreed. “But….. unarguably a hero.”

Rin smiled as Simon drifted off to sleep.

The Adventurers tag list: @dowings @writeblrfantasy @artrayasnow93 @doubi-ixi @extraisthmus @thethistlegirlwrites @thepotatowriter

#writing #wip the adventurers #burns #rescue #whump

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rokachan · 3 years

Text

~~Burn into ashes~~

“Tanglemaw? I could use some sleep I think…” Bleary from working diligently, Roka scrubbed at her eyes with the palm of an ink-and-grime-covered hand, blissfully ignorant of the disaster she spread. Pushing up from the makeshift desk in her Goblet apartment, she stumbled off across the room, dodging the skittering forms of seedlings. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been working, but she knew she was exhausted. Couldn’t recall the last time she’d poked her head out the door, but knew she’d set aside her linkpearls to her closest friends, and the mask that connected her to Togy in order to focus on her work. A couple suns? A sennight? Probably. Those seemed right.

Heels dragged until she sank to her knees, crawling onto the writhing rug that stilled with a fitful gurgle and wrapped possessive tendrils around her good leg. “I know, Groany. I know. I’m not going anywhere until I get a few bells of sleep, yeah?” The ‘rug’ seemed appeased but maintained a possessive clutch of the thin limb it ensnared. “Tanglemaw, keep the room nice and still, just for a few bells? Illumination as well?” One of her prized specimens. What a wonderful girl. The bioluminescent lighting dimmed to a faint glow, just enough to see if Roka woke suddenly, and the heady scent of jasmine filled the air. Groanalot’s grip on Roka’s leg eased slightly as the ageing rug relaxed, and Roka’s lids drooped heavily. Sleep would be nice.

Blissful dreams of her partners. Her friends. Sweet as spun sugar. It was a rare thing, to enjoy such utter content in her dreams. It wasn’t just rest, or quiet, but happiness she found until an idea crept into her dreams like a dark cloud. Slowly staining the blue skies and pulling her away from people. It was the idea that woke the tiny catte with a jolt, startled to sitting upright, ears pricked painfully alert.

“Bloody Twelve I think… That just might…” She was scrambling to her feet even before her hand disengaged from Groanalot’s grasp, pawing at the vines claiming her with frustration and snapping at the ceiling. “Tanglemaw light! And stop the- GROANALOTLETGO! -No more sleep! I need to be awake, NOW!” It was chaos, trying to get her head rightly cleared of the rich perfume and the effects of the spores that dulled her senses, begged her to return to slumber. It would be so easy to lay back down and worry about this in the morning.

No.

No she needed to tackle this while it was fresh before it faded away to the ghost of a memory and drove her mad. Huffing she settled back at the makeshift desk, shoving aside papers and grasping feverishly for vials. Colourful liquids splashed within their glass confines, some discarded back from whence they came while others were selectively set in places of honour before her.

A wiser person might take caution, they might sit down and consider an idea. Plan it out. They might question the reactions of things. A wiser person would likely know better than to leap from a drugged sleep into a science experiment with nothing more than a dream for guidance. At the absolute least a shred of wisdom would have seen protective gear used, or locked away the seedlings while she worked.

Roka’s intelligence might be high, but her wisdom? Roka’s wisdom was often overruled by reckless abandon. Especially when she was excited. And the near vibrating Miqo’te was certainly excited, mumbling to herself as she snatched a large bottle of concentrated morbol saliva. She paused for a moment to inspect it, seeming to have a thought, a smile tickling the corner of her lips. Whatever spark her brain cells produced was not one of caution though, and on she went with her movements. Vials and bottles left open, she didn’t mind the offensive smell from some of them and none were deadly to inhale, notes scribbled with one hand absently. It wasn’t even legible, not really. Nothing registered until… Failure. An obnoxiously muddy concoction that reeked indescribably, even by Roka’s peculiar standards, was hastily corked and pushed away. Well… That was disappointing.

It was late though, she could try again later, but for now… For now she just wanted to close her eyes for a few minutes. Folding her arms, the catte leaned to cradle her head in and rest against the desk. It was meant to be momentary, just long enough to shake off the disappointment before returning to sleep on the rug, but she dozed. Tanglemaw helpfully filled the air with sleepy spores once more, unbidden, and cast the Miqo’te into deeper slumber. The saplings were still roaming, unbidden to rest again just yet.

Like any pet left unattended, Roka’s morbols were want to do very important morbol things, and at the most inopportune bell possible. Exploration of her desk being chief among the things the little seedlings found interesting to do. Bottled clinked softly, tipped over and knocked askew. Contents spilling free, pouring onto the desk. The largest of her bottles, the prized concentration of morbol saliva, that had been kept close at hand as a key focus in her project, thunked heavily when it was tipped over, the content glugging out and spilling over exposed arms and the nape of neck. Down her back.

Tanglemaw’s spores were often a blessing, the line of morbols Roka had bred to aide in sleep were terribly efficient, and even now as the concentrate roused her with bubbling, furiously spitting skin and the smell of flesh rending, her body fought her to just… Go back to sleep. Hands pawed at her ear, trying to hit the linkpearls that she always wore. Finding them gone. They were settled right where she left all communication, all distractions, on the bookshelf. It was a momentary panic, agony, and then…

~~To rise with double the power~~

Roka groaned. Rubbed her eyes against the light filtering in through a window. The hard floor beneath her drawing her to reality. The Elysium lobby? She must have dozed off here by the fountain. She didn’t remember coming here, but… Well… She’d be lying if she didn’t say she occasionally forgot how she got to one place or another. Got so caught up thinking she forgot all about the how and where. Glancing again at the fountain, she thought it odd that there looked to be stones out of place beneath the water. As if something had burst out. Maybe the pressure from a pump? It wasn’t her job to know the fountain’s workings, but she’d make note to mention it to someone. It would be fixed and good as new in no time, she was sure. The company was good like that, never letting things stay wrecked.

Accepting this little oddity, the creature shuffled to her feet and stretched. Ears fluttering and tail arching as she worked muscles that felt- New? Fresh? Unused. The normal aches that accompanied a night on the floor were blessedly absent. What a nice surprise! With a smile of too-sharp teeth, she hummed. It was a new day, and whatever odd dreams she’d had, she was home and well. She could tell someone about the dreams later, but she had such a terrible urge just now, something she simply had to do.

#ffxiv #drabble #where has my idiot been all this time #roka #long post #very very long post #ic writing

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ibelieveindragons141 · 4 years

Text

Diego Hargreeves x reader I Here and There part 2

Part one

Diego Hargreeves x reader Word count: 1923 Warnings: Language

"Hold on," you held up a hand, the other firmly entertained with Diego's. "You're saying that dad assassinated Kennedy?" "Let's not jump to conclusions." Five reasoned. "What the hell else is he doing standing on a grassy knoll, holding an open black umbrella on a sunny day in Dallas the exact moment the president gets shot?" Diego fired back at him, his grip tightening. "You have to admit, it doesn't look good, Five." Five frowned. Diego got a strange look on his face- similar to Elliot's before he started spouting off about us being aliens. "No, he's the signalman for the whole goddamn thing." "Easy, Diego." You started, but he cut you off. "This is what Hazel was trying to tell you." Diego turned to Five who had an exasperated look on his face. "We have to stop Dad from killing the president." Five rolled his eyes. "Diego, calm down, all right? Dad was no boy scout, but presidential assassination? It's never been his thing." "How would you know?" Diego's voice lowered, you knew you had to put a swift end to this conversation. Five stepped closer to the two of you, a hard glint in his eyes. "You think I had it easy? I was alone for 45 years-" "We don't have the time for this right now!" You interrupted, dropping Diego's hand to stand between the two boys. "He's clearly in Dallas so let's go talk to him. Maybe he can help us fix the timeline." "Dallas is a big place. We need to find him first." Five rolled his eyes again. "Gee, if only we had some magical, old-timey way of finding people and their addresses." Diego opened his mouth to shoot something back at Five's bitter sarcasm, but you cut him off, "alright," you said. "Let's go." _______________________________________________________________ Lila and Diego piled into the car first. As you went to follow, Five gripped your arm and pulled you aside. "Five?" "I need you to find the others," he said. "What? No, I'm helping you find Dad." "We've got it covered. Look, out of the three of us, the others like you the most. They'll listen to you. I need you to bring them back to Elliot's and wait for us there,." You wanted to argue, but upon seeing the desperation in his eyes, nodded in silent agreement. ________________________________________________________________ You knew tracking them down would be hard, but you didn't think it'd be this hard. You managed to find Luther, but he turned you away like he had Five: rather rudely. Vanya was completely M.I.A. and the only Allison in the address book was an "Allison Chestnut." That left Klaus. The only lead you had were some rumors surrounding a magical cult-leader living in a mansion here in Dallas. If anything screamed "Klaus," it was that. Deciding that it was too late to ask around for help without sounding crazy, you headed back to Elliot's. It was dark. The only light filtered down from the second floor, casting a faint orange glow around the space. You walked in to see Lila straddling a very naked Diego. You froze in the doorway. Five sauntered up from behind you. "Oh, he isn't dead." He said casually, as if remarking on the weather. Lila didn't look up, her gaze entirely focused on the man in front of her. Your man. "Disappointed?" She asked, "To see you? Always." Five gave her a tight smile. Why was she sitting on Diego? Was something wrong? Was there something... between them? "So much hostility in such a tiny package. Did you cut yourself shaving? I could teach you to shave like a big boy." No, that's impossible. Diego would never do that to you. Five looked away. "No, I just ran into an old family friend." His cryptic answer was enough to reanimate you. Tearing your gaze away from Diego you asked, "Who?" He remained silent. Lila rolled her eyes. "You still don't trust me?" "Am I supposed to?" Diego groaned. Lila pressed her hands to his lower abdomen gently, but firmly. Lila stared at you. "Are you just going to stand there?" "I-" "Y/n?" Diego's voice was characteristically soft. You hurried over to him and brushed the hair off his forehead. "Hey, you." His lips twitched into a small smile before his eyes slipped closed again. "What happened?" "His Dad," Lila replied bluntly; then climbing off him said, "He's all yours. I'm gonna get some sleep." You perched yourself on the edge of the sofa. You examined the bandages wrapped around his midsection. "Dad did this?" Five gave you a sharp nod. "Pogo," he made a vague gesture at his face, "did this." "Pogo." He waved your surprise away. "Any luck with the others?" You sighed. "No sign of Allison or Vanya. And I might have a lead on Klaus." He considered this for a moment. "Luther?" You crossed your arms. "Luther is a dick." Five cocked his head. "That, we can agree on. You said you have a lead on Klaus?" A nod. "Follow up on it tomorrow." Another nod, and he was gone.

________________________________________________________________ Rays of sun streaming through a window woke you up the next morning. You were still of the sofa, head resting on Diego's chest, a hand carding lazily through your hair. "Diego?" You murmured sleepily. "Y/n?" Your head shot up. Diego. "You're awake! I need to redress your bandages." "Woah, Y/n, sow down." He caught your hand mid-reach to the table beside you. "I will not 'slow down,' you almost bled out!" His eyes softened. "I know, and I'm sorry. But-" "Diego, you're awake. Good." Five strolled into the room with a cup of what was probably his second cup of black coffee. "Five." Diego winced as he tried to sit up. "Did you find anything last night?" "Of course. Unlike you, I can do my job without getting stabbed." "Five," you warned. He waved your comment away. "Y/n, I'll take care of Diego from here. Go find Klaus." You glanced back at Diego who gave you a slight nod. "Fine." You stood and pressed a kiss to Diego's forehead before heading outside. ________________________________________________________________ You stood outside a large, stone building. Klaus lives here? You wondered. The lights were off so you snuck around back. A pale man with long hair and a strange tattoo was drinking on a pink floaty in the swimming pool. "Klaus?" He startled. "Y/n?" "Oh, my God!" You cried, yanking your shoes off to jump into the pool while he awkwardly paddled toward you. The two of you collided, throwing your arms around each other excitedly. "It's really you," you breathed. "I thought I was the only one left." You pulled back and gripped his arms. "We have so much to catch up on." Hopping onto the wall you asked, "So, how did you end up in a place like this?" He reclined on his floaty again. "Oh... you know, dicks, drugs, debuntes. My holy trinity." "Klaus, you started a cult." You kicked at the water, enjoying its coolness against your bare toes. "'Cult' is a very negative word, y/n. We prefer to call it 'an alternative spiritual community,'" Klaus explained. "Nope," you giggled, "You definitely started a cult." "Alright, alright, alright. Enough about me. What about you?" You sighed deeply. Where to begin?________________________________________________________________ "I'm telling you, Diego. I don't trust her. And neither does Five." "So you're siding with Five now?" "Really? That's your takeaway from this?" "I can't do anything right can I?" "Where was she last night?" "What?" "She disappeared, didn't she? Where did she go? We don't know anything about her." "I don't know." "Exactly." "Y/n, why can't you just trust me?" "Why can't you trust me?" Diego opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Five materialized. "I found Vanya."

________________________________________________________________ "Diego," you hissed. "I can't dance." He smirked, "Just follow my lead." He gripped your waist tightly, drawing you close to him. You swayed to the music, focusing only on the rhythm and the feeling of Diego pressed up against you. "Diego, about earlier..." "I'm sorry." "What?" "I was being stupid and defensive and I'm sorry." You smirked, "That sounded physically painful." "I-" You pulled him down by his collar and kissed him deeply. His brought a hand up to tangle in your hair. "I love you," he murmured against your lips. You brought your mouth to his ear, "I love you, too," you whispered softly. He suddenly tensed. "Diego?" "Mom?"

________________________________________________________________

"Five!" You cried as a white-haired man flipped him over his shoulder and slammed the 45 year old teenager into the floor. Diego gasped from behind you, a leather strap wrapped around his neck. "Shit, Diego!" You flipped your wrist and sent a wave of purple energy at the man. Diego dropped to the ground. He looked up at you and his face twisted in panic. "Wha- AH!" The third man had snuck up behind you and punched you in the back of the head with his metal knuckles. Diego struggled to his feet to help you, but the man you'd sent flying was back and began throwing punches. Despite staggering back from the blow, you stayed standing and whirled around to face him. Your fists were coated in purple as you fired shot after shot at him. He dodged every one. You raised an eyebrow. "Not bad." He remained impassive. "But not good enough." He cocked his head. Putting your hands together, you focused your energy on him and threw him through the wall. Lila came running up the stairs; she met your eyes then looked back at Five who was getting his ass kicked. You nodded and both sprinted in opposite directions- you to Diego, and her to Five. ________________________________________________________________ "One of us is dead." Diego said, staring down at his plate. Klaus started talking to something behind him, must be a ghost. "Regardless," Reginald said, what would possess me to adopt eight ill-mannered malcontents?" "We all have special abilities," explained Five. Diego slid the photograph of Reginald at the assassination across the table. "Explain that," he demanded. Reginald Hargreeves stared hard at it then looked up, almost disappointingly, at Diego. "Well. I suppose you've solved it. You'e single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot. Is that what you want to hear? You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. You're a tragic man, desperately unaware of his own insignificance; desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning." You were frozen. Diego was too, until he sunk back down into his seat beside you. Instead of responding, or firing back some rude remark, he stuttered out a weak, "You're wrong." You immediately grabbed his hand and said loudly, "how dare you. You have no right to speak to him like that, to any of us like that. You're a monster who bought children and turned them into soldiers." "Y/n, your hand." You stared down at the hand not holding Diego's and saw it sparking with violet light. Five, seizing the moment to change the subject, said, "Look, we have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it." A/n: I'm working on the third and final part. I'll have it up as soon as I can! As always, thanks for reading and lmk what you think :) Tag list: @jasminhargreeves

@alonewolfsblog @ginger-swag-rapunzel

#diego hargreeves x reader #number two #number two x reader #tua #tua fanfic #numberone #number three #numberfour #numberfive #numberseven #number eight #the umbrella academy #seasontwo #theswedes #lila pitts #parttwo

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just-mirko · 4 years

Photo

BINARY

BNHA HACKER AU - CHAPTER 4

MASTERLIST

Mirko x F!Reader

Warnings: HAWKS BEING A SUS BITCH 2.0 #peghawks2020

WC: 2k

(A/N: This is unedited! Please message me if you spot any annoying mistakes! I will probably have the edited version up in a day or two!)

“Then with that I leave you, my students, sleep well!”

He left for the doors and closed them behind him, effectively leaving 15 teenage criminals in a room together.

Hah.

After principal Nezu left, the crowd dispersed. Many chose to scout out their dorms instead of interacting. Each person was a loaded gun. Aimed at their enemies or themselves did not matter, we were all afraid for when the first bullet would strike.

That being said, most seemed overall relaxed. Students would try to start conversation and socialize, which was apparent by the mumble of voice within the school’s halls that returned from before Nezu gave his brief speech.

I was turning towards the dorm hallway with my bags in hand. The gentle tap of my shoes along the hardwood floors could be heard in crisp, purposeful taps. Right as I walked through the threshold of the door connecting the dorm corridor and the main hall, I heard footsteps growing louder behind me.

I kept walking forward and kept a close eye at the plaques on each room’s door that signified who was housed where.

The footsteps continued getting closer until in my peripheral vision I could see a lock of white hair swaying.

“You again?” I asked, feigning annoyance. Of course, her presence wasn’t exactly unwanted but it was unneeded.

“Mmmhmm” Mirko hummed while gazing down at me.

The image of her and Hawks pushed itself into the forefront of my mind, leaving residues of anger wherever it bounced in my brain.

“So… you and Hawks?” I looking at the hallway door when I said it. I slowed my walking down to almost a complete stop before turning towards her.

“Are you guys dati-“ I made the mistake of looking into her piercing red eyes and caught a glare, making me stop my sentence.

I held my breath for a second, thinking I angered her in some way, but to my surprise she let out a laugh.

“You got so scared! Look at you! You’re just a bottom little bunny” She relaxed and leaned her arm down to rest on my shoulder. The height difference was so obvious when she was standing this close.

“C’mon (Y/N), lighten up, combat training is going to be a breeze! I bet the view from the floor will be nice.”

Did she just- never mind.

“Oh as if.” I rolled my eyes and started walking again towards my door that came into view. She followed me and watched as struggled with the door.

The doorknob was plain and silver, with a small black pad above it. I was more than confused.

“Were we supposed to get a key or something?”

I continued jamming the doorknob and pressing at the black pad in frustration. It was getting late, and being locked out of my room wasn’t on my list of things I can emotionally handle.

One of Mirko’s hands came to rest at about my elbow from behind me. Delicately moving her hands up towards me wrist, she paused, before gently holding the back my hand, her nails ghosting against my palm.

My heart was racing, none of her arm’s subtle movements went unnoticed. I feared that with how close she was, with her right behind me, and this, whatever this is, she could hear my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

She guided my hand towards the black pad and brought my left pointer finger down on the sensor.

With a small green light and a click, the door swung open. She kept her grasp on my hand for what felt like a moment too long yet still too short before stepping back and turning towards the door across from me room.

“The doors are locked via fingerprint,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smirk.

“Tell me if you have any more troubles (y/n), I’m right next door.” She seemed way too pleased with herself when she walked back into her room, not sparing a glance over towards me, standing in the door frame of my room when her’s closed.

That night I laid awake staring at the ceiling, just as I had done last night. Though the only difference was last night I was contemplating to even go here, now I was contemplating how I would even survive here.

The dorms were nice and decently sized for the whole ‘underground secret society’ thing. A bathroom with all the basics including a deep bathtub, a queen bed, a mini fridge, and coffee machine. What set t apart from average was two things. Color changing lights that were set under the bed and desk, giving everything a vibrant glow (A/N no reason for the lights they just look cool :))

The last special thing in the room was a giant black desk, obviously set up for a giant desktop and even more hardware, but the surface with unscratched, unused, and empty. It sat in the corner of the room alone, unlike the other areas that had lamps, colored lights, or fake plants; the desk had nothing.

I would still have to grow accustomed to the new and pristine room. It smelled clean. Like fresh disinfectant and fake lavender that is just slightly off from the real thing. I could not say I missed the cans of soda on the floor and random sticky notes everywhere.

The old apartment was crammed with miscellaneous objects. All the things I was too attached to throw out, but not too attached to leave all together, I guess.

I rolled over, suddenly very aware of my awakens. I checked my clock. A large sigh eased from my lungs. It was only 11pm. That meant I was not losing too much sleep on my first day. I could only imagine how screwed I would be if those led screen lights were showing 3am or any other blatantly early time.

I guess since I was awake, it would not hurt to get a snack or something. From my recollection, I remember seeing a café like area in the common room, though I was too preoccupied to look at it for too long. They might have a granola bar or some snack I could eat. I was really craving chocolate milk right now.

I was in the slightly delirious sleepy stage of consciousness. The point where I had no filter to what I said, and no self-preservation. In said state, I threw on some slippers, grabbed my phone and grudgingly walked out to the hallway.

“choccy milk, choccy milk!” I whispered to myself in a singsong voice. The walk to the end of the hallway seemed to only last a split second before I was there, at the door to the common room.

“choccy milk, choccy milk!” I reached towards the doorknob, shivering once the chilled metal touched my fingers. Right as I was about to pull the door with my weak and tired muscles, I heard shuffling from the other side of the door.

I opened it slowly, and peering in through the crack in the door. Though dark, and his back was towards me, I could recognize the distinct frame of Hawks. The dirty bastard. Why he be actin lik- my thoughts were interrupted by two sharp clicks. On the floor he sat a suitcase and opened it up. It was the same one that had the red unidentified fluff in it. More fuzz was on it than before, apparent as it stood out among the black fabric casing.

He moved in front of the suit case and blocked my view, but I could watch as he crouched down an opened it up. Suddenly, a flurry of red came spiraling out and circling around hawks. He stood up and the shapes were revealed to be feathers, each one different than the next. The continued to storm around like he was standing in the eye of a hurricane surrounded. Feather by feather they collected by his shoulders, forming broad wings that’s wingspan was around 10 ft.

He ruffled the wings around, spreading them out and even doing a test flap, which sent a gust of air in all directions. While he was… adjusting them? Stretching them?

This had to have been his quirk. And it was an amazing one at that. This was my rival? How was I supposed to beat that?

“Woah” I silently whispered. His wings twitched at the sound, and it appeared all the feathers stood up straight. He quickly turned around, his wings taking on a defensive position and each feather spiking outward like tiny knives. I quickly hid behind the door, hoping he didn’t see me, though he definitely heard me.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I held my breath, knowing now that whatever his quirk was, it enhanced his hearing.

I slightly turned my head to my ear was pressed up against the wall and I could hear anything he did. I cringed at the slight scratch of one of my earrings against wooden door and paused again.

Through the polished wood and all the space between us, I made out his footsteps beginning again as he walked away from the door. The breath I held in my lungs released shakily. My eyes darted across the hallway, which suddenly seemed so much longer. The expanse of parallel lines from the crown molding and the wallpaper and everything made me feel like caving in.

I had barely dodged that encounter, and I know it would not have been good if he found me snooping. I was not my intention, but it did give me a slight advantage. I knew his quirk.

I knew his quirk.

Unlike someone’s fake name or hacker alias, quirks were something you can change. They stuck with you the rest of your life, one of very few constants we could have. And because quirks, especially unique ones like Hawks’, were specific to each person they not only would let me find his real identity quickly, but also gain information on his past, something most people in this life tried to forget.

I had no intention of using this information maliciously, it was more or less self-defense. If he was out for me, its only fair that I get to build a shield. I was just evening the playing fields.

My brain was vacant of all prior need for choccy milk, now, all I wanted was answers, though for now those would have to wait. My smartphone said it was almost midnight, and I already started things at this academy on the wrong foot, I don’t want that to repeat with my teachers.

I guess it was foolish of me to believe I was always one step ahead of everyone. I was untouchable, invisible, I had power. I forgot that people don’t get into this school on daddy’s money or luck, they’re here for a reason.

But at that time I didn’t care, of course I didn’t, I just narrowly avoided my current rival, and walked away unnoticed. Untouchable.

I went to sleep quickly. I woke up early. I slept well. The next day started good. I made coffee and pondered over the empty desk once more. I was ignorant.

#bnha #mirkobnha #bnhafanfic #bnha mirko #bnha x reader #bnha au #hacker au #mirko x reader #rumi usagiyama #rumi usagiyama x reader #xfreader #xf!reader #just-mirko #justmirko #bina #BINARY #peghawks2020

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nais-nook · 4 years

Text

Sawyer - Pt 3

(Hey there! You may be liking/reblogging something without links to new pieces I may have written for this character, just letting you know in case you’re interested in reading more!)

Imagine writing a Sawyer part but he doesn’t show up. That’s so like Sawyer lmao. I promise he shall return. Sawyer belongs to @yandere-flower

~***~

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You get rescued, though the person who landed you in this predicament is nowhere to be found.

Pairing: Male x Female Reader.

Words: 2402.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Swearing, Violence (and Blood).

Your fingers were numb, and yet you still felt the burn in your wrist and the thousands upon thousands of pin pricks running up and down your arms. The strained muscles in your back and legs let you know you had been in this position for longer than anyone should, and despite your body begging for release, the restraints that held you wouldn’t budge. You couldn’t see anything, not with the damp strip of whatever it was wrapped tightly around your eyes.

In the darkness you could make out vague whispers - one distinctly nasally, alongside a much gruffer and scratchier voice. Whether the stale stench of cigarettes and alcohol was coming from them or not, you didn’t know. There was a scuff of boots. What you could only assume was broken glass was scraped aside along the floor, then the scrap of material was ripped off your face.

You winced, eyes watering as they adjusted to the harsh light spilling in from the ajar door. Your years of training did not help as bile began to rise in your throat, burning and bitter. The beat of your heart grew so intense it was all you could do to not focus on it.

The man crouching in front of you was tan, with greying hair and wrinkles to match.

“Where’s the white-haired Japanese prick?”

You were taken aback, expecting him to be the one that sounded like he smoked a pack a day. He was the nasally sounding one, speaking as if he had a stuffy nose.

“I - what?”

He moved in extremely close. You tried not to gag. “What, you don’t speak English, sweetheart?”

Sawyer. They were definitely talking about Sawyer. Why were you being asked about Sawyer?

“I- I’m sorry, I-”

Before you could utter another word, something metal was pressed against your temple. You were suddenly very conscious of every slight movement you made, of the air being sucked out of the room. Cold dread ran rampant in your veins.

Calm, calm, panicking won’t help you.

It was much easier thought than done.

“Where. Is. The tattooed dude. With the piercings. You know who we’re talking about.”

“Sawyer.” The lanky one standing in the doorway spoke. “Cauley.”

“Who’s that?”

Lies, lies, all lies. The smell of the room suffocated you. Rust and damp and foul. Your legs trembled, against your will.

“Listen girly,” the thing at your temple pressed harder, “don’t act stupid. We know you patched him up after he had a scrap in that alleyway.”

The man at the door sighed, picking at the glass of its shattered window. “We just need to know where he is. We’ll leave you alone after that, alright?”

Even if they were telling the truth, and they would let you go after you told them, you had nothing to tell them. Sawyer had made good on his promise to never see you again, so the fact that these people even knew you were barely associated would have been baffling. If you weren't so terrified, that was.

“I don’t know,” you answered, voice shaking despite your honesty.

“Try again.”

It was a blade pressed against you, and the bastard holding it had drawn blood. Searing pain ripped across your skin. You almost retched. You hoped and prayed at the very least the blade was clean.

Your words tumbled out, each one more frantic than the last. “I swear, I don’t. I patched him up and he left. He could be halfway across the world by now for all I know.”

“See the thing is, we have a score to settle.”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand.”

The blade travelled from your temple to your neck, its tip dragging along your skin. You leaned back as far as you could. From the glimpse you caught, the blade wasn’t rusted, but you knew that meant jack shit on whether it was actually clean.

“Someone very important died because of Sawyer.” The older man mumbled.

“W-what? Who?”

He pressed the knife right up against your carotid artery. Tears blurred your vision. “Ah, see, you’re not privy to that information.”

“I’m telling you I have no idea where he is.”

The one fiddling with the broken glass looked straight at you. “He didn’t say anything, hm? Didn’t send anything?”

He had sent you something. Flowers. But the address on that was probably fake, assuming Sawyer had some working brain cells left in that head of his.

A hand wrapped around your throat and you flew into a blind panic.

“Flowers. He sent me flowers, but I threw away the card, I don’t know where it is.”

The gangly man nodded; eyes fixed on a point you couldn’t discern. “So, he did survive after you were done with him. Interesting.”

They… thought he had died? They thought he had died. You just told them he was alive and well.

Shit, shit, shit -

“So -”

A loud thump echoed throughout the room, its source right outside the door. You didn’t want another stranger walking into the room, not when you were so close to passing out. The room tilted.

The gangly one at the door slipped what looked to be a gun from his belt (a terrible place to keep a gun, really). It did nothing to stop the person outside from barrelling in and completely knocking him out in a matter of seconds. The man who was previously holding a knife to your neck seemingly manifested a gun out of nowhere and pointed it at… Thomas?

It was Thomas.

You flinched, expecting a gunshot to tear right through Thomas’ chest. Instead the bullet that pierced the air came from the hallway and landed squarely in your captive’s shoulder. His cry was shrill in your ears, but even that couldn’t distract you from the sight that was Ambrose, her hair tied back and face ghastly as she stalked in. She landed a stomp on the man's head. He fell silent.

“Hey.” It was Thomas, fiddling with the restraints around your wrists. “You okay?”

“No,” you choked. From the corner of your eye you witnessed Ambrose drag the taller of the two unconscious men through the door and shattered glass. You could have broken down into tears right then and there. From fear and relief.

Thomas stopped for a moment, and he pressed his forehead against yours. You felt a little more at ease when he whispered, “You don’t have to be.”

Your wrists were rubbed raw and your joints cracked when you were helped up. You nearly toppled over at the sudden chorus of gunfire and yelling from below.

“Sorry about your ankles hun, but you’re going to have to run.” Ambrose frowned, head tilting towards the direction of the hallway.

“Run?”

Thomas stroked your hair back, face shrouded with sympathy. “I’d carry you, but that would just make both of us a bigger target.”

“Don’t fret, Tommy and I’ll be right next to you.”

Ambrose swivelled her foot right as someone tried to barge through the door, flipping them effortlessly into a pile of crumpled beer cans. With a swift kick of her steel toed boots the man went still. Immediately she reached for you, fingers wrapping around your upper arm and steered you down the hall. You didn’t miss how she completely avoided your damaged wrists.

It was darker. Much darker than the room you were tied in moments ago, and you had to hold onto Ambrose with your aching fingers to steady yourself. Ambrose approached the end of the hallway, the dim glow revealing a set of stairs. The fighting was deafening here. Gunshots and shouts reverberated through the narrow passage as you struggled to keep your breathing steady. Thomas, who had been padding behind, silently advanced in front of you, giving a hand signal you didn’t understand before creeping down the stairs.

“I know.” Ambrose gave your arm a little squeeze. “Just pretend you’re at some sort of intensive surgery. Nothing will happen if you do what we say, okay?”

“Okay…”

The faint light from the stairwell made Ambrose’s face look younger, softer. And then you remembered she wasn’t that much older than you to begin with. What caused her to fall into such a violent line of work, you didn’t know. Maybe if you both got out of this alive you would ask her.

Tentatively, you stepped down the stairs, wincing at the spike of pain that shot up your leg as you placed weight on your ankles. Ambrose’s arm was immediately at your waist, and she supported you as best she could down the uneven steps. As you got closer you could pick out the thump of things being thrown amongst the yelling. Thomas was crouching on the bottom step, face serious.

Ambrose drew you closer still, her voice hushed as she said, “Listen, we’re gonna have to do some running and ducking, okay? Just don’t let go of me.” Thomas threw up another hand sign before disappearing into the fray. “We just gotta wait for a little while.”

A little while is probably what it was, but it felt like the moment stretched on for an eternity. Then, out of nowhere, three shots rang out in the mess, clear as day. Ambrose didn’t say a word, jerking you forward so roughly you nearly tripped over yourself.

A warehouse - you were in a warehouse, dodging and weaving through gargantuan shipment crates as Ambrose pushed and pulled you through bits of debris and rubbish. You couldn’t take it all in even if you tried. You caught a glimpse of Thomas in the corner, wrestling someone carrying switchblades. Gasps of moon rays filtered through the broken beams in the ceiling.

“Eyes forward (Y/n), you’re going to fall,” Ambrose hissed, pressing you flush against a metal container as someone was thrown right past you both. Whether they were friend or foe you were unsure.

The noise was giving you a headache amongst other things, and if it weren’t for the adrenaline and Amrbose’s insistent tugging you could have fallen asleep right there. Exhausting was seeping into your veins like you were on a drip. It felt like a miracle when Ambrose was able to steer you to a door, before shoving you through it.

“Get into a car, any of the grey ones, hurry.”

The door was flung shut.

Why, why, why -

Why were they risking everything to come and get you? You did nothing for them. You had nothing to give them.

Something heavy slammed against the other side of the door. You could barely hear the sound of your soles hitting the pavement over the noise as you scrambled to the cars, climbing into the nearest one.

“... Riley?”

The door wasn’t even shut properly before the tyres squealed and the car jerked forwards. You clung to everything and anything. Every turn of the car caused you to lurch against the seats and doors.

“Get your belt on!” He veered right. Hard. “Did you not hear me?!”

“I’m trying!”

You finally managed to clip the buckle in just as he swerved right again.

“Riley you’re going to kill me!”

“Shut the fuck up, or I will kill you on purpose!”

A digital ringing resounded in the car. Riley’s hand shot out, grabbing one of the many mobiles strapped to the dashboard. You saw his mouth move in the rear-view mirror but could barely hear the words spoken over the roar of the engine and tyres.

“Oi, (Y/n),” he yelled, giving you a passing glance in the mirror, “hold on to something.”

What?

If you were finding it difficult to keep your insides where they belonged before, you were definitely struggling now. Riley paid no mind to the speed bumps dotted along the road, skidded around corners at a speed you knew was illegal, and even forced the car down narrow alleyways.

“Riley! Why are you driving like a maniac?!”

“I’m trying to get you to the drop off point!”

“Drop off point?!”

You barely managed to process what he said as you were flung right against the window. You caught a flash of the menacing smile plastered onto Riley’s face as he gripped the wheel and gear stick in terrifying confidence.

He yelled over the engine, “Listen, we’re hitting a tunnel soon, and you’re gonna have to jump!”

“What?!”

Your head was spinning.

“As soon as I tell you to go, you fling that door open as far as it goes, and you fucking jump!”

“I’ve never done anything like that before! I’m going to die!”

“Well, if we get caught, we’re both fucking dead!”

This is it, you thought, mind a flurry of too many things with too little time to sort them out. I’m going to actually die, and my family will have no idea where I went or who took me or -

Cars identical to the one you were strapped in tailing behind Riley’s erratic driving. Your car slowed down slightly as it entered a tunnel, plunging you into darkness. Your heart lurched in your throat.

A hand on your leg pulled you out of your panicked stupor. Riley’s green eyes were lit up by the lights on the dashboard. He stared at you in the mirror, his face deathly calm. The world quietened down immediately.

“You open the door as far as it goes, you jump at an angle away from the car - there’ll be a grassy patch so the landing won’t be as rough - and then you pull all your limbs in and roll. Land on your shoulder if you can. You’ll be fine.”

And then all the sounds came crashing back.

“Someone will pick you up, just hide near the entrance of the tunnel until they arrive! Ready?!”

“No, I’m not,” you whispered, hands shaking like mad as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Wait for it.”

Your knuckles blanched as you gripped the handle.

“Now!”

You flung yourself out of the car.

You could have sworn you heard something crack as you landed on your shoulder. Your skin was on fire as you skidded across the grass. You pulled back just as the grey cars sped by, one after another.

And despite being exhausted to the brink of collapsing, you still managed to drag yourself to hide in the shadows on the tunnel.

All that was left to do was wait.

#i love how sawyer int here lmao #I swear he is doing very important tm stuff #he will be there in the next part #i just needed to transition and set of a few things 👀#nais nook #sawyer #part 3 #sawyer pt 3 #yandere flower #reader insert #yandere

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thebisexualdogdad · 4 years

Text

Sidekicks and sex pollens chapter 5

Co-written with @inhumanshadows

It had been a month since Bruce found out you were Mistletoe and he wasn't happy that Dick and Jason were still seeing you.

"He's a good person Bruce, he's not Ivy, he's not penguin and he's certainly not Joker," Jason stated.

"You don't truly know someone until you've seen them at their worst," Bruce responded.

"I don't need to see him at his worst to know he would never hurt us," Jason went on.

On the other side of town, Ivy was giving you an eerily similar conversation.

“Ivy? I love ya boss. But I can not quantify how much I do not care. I trust them. And if they screw over I can handle it.”

“Just be careful numb skull. I actually enjoy having you around. Tell anyone that and you’re dead.”

"You like me over Harley?" You tease.

"I don't like anyone over Harley dear," she winks, "speaking of i should get going, we have a very hot date planned tonight."

"Night boss... Have fun with your girl," you call out.

"Harley Quinn is no one's girl," Ivy laughs as she leaves.

She has as point. Harley is all her own

You lock the doors and shed your pants and shirt for one of Dicks sweatshirts. And nothing else.

Maybe I’ll text one of the boys

You: 'You up?'

Jaybird: 'did you just you up me?'

You: 'can't handle your own playbook Todd?'

Jaybird: 'touche'

You: 'I’m bored and wanna cuddle.'

Jaybird: 'why not text Dick?'

You: 'He didn’t answer so you coming or not? Oh and I’m not wearing pants.'

Jaybird: 'I'm on my way'

Twenty minutes later and Jason was at your front door.

"I see you were telling the truth about the no pants thing," he laughs taking in the way Dick's large shirt barely covers you.

"Would i ever lie to you babe?"

"Never"

Jason jumps into your arms and you carry him to your bed.

You put on the last episode of a show while Jason strips and puts on your shirt. You lay on his chest and watch the show on screen.

“So how was your day?” You ask

"Bruce is being a prick again," he sighs.

"About what?" You ask.

He hesitates to tell you the truth, not wanting to hurt your feelings.

"He doesn't trust you," Jason says nervously.

"I don't need Bruce to trust me Jay, as long as you and Dick trust me that's all that matters"

“Oh... that’s good.”

“And besides Ivy doesn’t trust you two as far as she could throw you. I told her that if you two fuck up, I’ll handle it.”

“How?” Jason asks.

“You don’t wanna know.”

"Do you ever think about leaving Gotham behind? You, me and Dick just... Running away and starting over somewhere new?" Jason questions.

"I have and as nice as it would be, none of us could ever leave Gotham behind, it's part of who we are," you say rubbing you thumb over his ribs comforting him.

“But isn’t Gotham like a toxic family member? Sometimes you gotta leave it behind to be better and happy?” Jason points out, uncharacteristically.

“Someone’s been raiding my bookshelf. But you have a point... enough of that for now. I just wanna lay with one of the best things in my life.”

"Alright," Jason says pulling you closer to him.

Suddenly your phone begins to buzz, you groan not wanting to move but lean over to grab your phone off your bedside table.

"It's Dick," you smile sliding to accept the call, "hello?"

"Hey sorry i just got your texts," he says out of breath.

"Patrolling alone again?" You ask.

"Yeah but it turned out to be a bust."

"Well Jason is over at my place you want to come join the half naked cuddle session to make you feel better?" You chuckle.

"I'll be over soon."

Dick must’ve sprinted with how fast he gets to your door. That and how out of breath and sweaty his is.

“Hi. Dick, normally love you all sweaty. But uh- you gotta shower.” You say, pulling him inside.

Dick chuckles and pecks your cheek before he strips naked and walks to your bathroom.

“Feel free to join me you two.”

“My shower isn’t that big. Just shower and get your soon to be clean ass over here!!” You shout.

Shortly after a freshly showered Dick is stepping out of the bathroom and climbing into bed next to you.

"I don't know a better feeling than being between my two favorite people," you say snuggling into them both.

"I love you guys," Dick says.

"I love you both," you say in return.

You expected Jason to say it back but instead you were met with the sound of him loudly snoring.

"Guess it's time to go to sleep," you laugh.

"Good night," Dick says kissing you softly.

"Night."

You wake up around 5AM to two very obvious things poking you. Normally, you'd do something but you just lay on Dick's chest and try to sleep more, praying for an uneventful day.

You seem to get your wish when you wake a few hours later to Jason's ass peeking out from the blanket, still asleep and Dick reading a book that obviously came from your bookshelf. His free hand slowly moving through your hair.

"Morning. I made breakfast and put your plate aside."

"How should we wake the sleeping bird."

"Let him sleep, he has no issue eating cold food," Dick says.

You take a bite and stuff it in your mouth, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he says taking a sip of his coffee.

"How do you feel about Bruce not trusting me?" You ask him.

"It doesn't bother me as much as Jason, he hasn't quite learned yet how to ignore Bruce's intrusive opinions," he says casually, "does it bother you?"

"I don't want it to but I know how important Bruce is to you guys."

“Thanks. But honestly to me at this point... I couldn’t give less of a shit what Bruce thinks.” Dick says.

“That’s okay... I guess.”

“What about you? With Ivy. I know you think pretty highly of her.”

"Ivy showed me that i could do more for the world than being stuck in a lab all day, she's my mentor but we don't agree on everything," you explain.

Once again your phone buzzes taking you out of the moment with your boys, this time however it's Harley calling.

"That's weird, Harley never calls me," you say out loud before picking up, "uh hello?"

"Y/N? Y/N get your ass to the old oil refinery downtown," Harley tells you.

"What? Why?" You say confused.

"It's Ivy she's in trouble," she responds and the line goes dead.

"What's going on?" Jason asks in a haze of waking up.

"I- I don't know- I gotta go," you say stumbling out of bed looking for any clothes you could find.

“Be careful...” Dick says, but you’re already gone.

You get to the Oil refinery, skin changed and the persona of Mistletoes assumed.

Harley is outside, pacing.

“Harley! What’s going on?”

You take in Harley's appearance, she's got cuts all over and covered in sut, the smell of a fire is now filling the air.

"We went in there to destroy some new fracking machine they are building but there was an explosion and I can't find her anywhere," she says clearly scared.

A shadow passes over you two, both looking up to see a sliver a cape fly into the building.

"Shit it's the bat! Y/N you gotta go find her!" Harley shouts.

"I'll find her I promise," you say running into the building.

The smoke is thick, dark and burns your eyes. You toss some air filtering seeds down to do what they can.

“Ivy!! Ivy!! Where are you!!”

The only answer you have is an explosion from above you. You jump forward, narrowly avoiding a painful potential death.

Damn it! I gotta find her and get out fast... and before Bruce finds her...”

You scower the refinery, ending up in dead end after dead end..

"Help"

That was Ivy's voice.

"Ivy!" You shout.

"Y/N"

You follow the voice and that's when you see her.

She's trapped underneath a fallen beam.

"Ivy!" You yell again as you run to her.

“Hey kid...” Her voice is weak.

“Don’t talk. Let’s get this off of you and get you back to Harley.

You toss a semicircle of the air filter plants and then summon many vines to lift the beam off of Ivy.

A few more booms ring in the facility. As soon as she’s free you drag her from under, throwing her arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s go. If we die... Harley would bring me back just to kill me.” You joke.

"Ivy what did you do," a bold voice from above yells.

"Not now Batman," you say dragging Ivy along desperate for an exit.

Bruce jumps down from a riser landing in front of you.

"I said not now!" You say angrily, sending vines towards him to throw him away from you.

You hear his body crash against a wall and to be honest- you gave zero fucks.

You have a few more vines tear open a metal door, Harley in the distance. You can tell by her body language she’d been crying.

“Hold on Ivy, almost there.” You tell her. There’s another chain of explosions as you approach Harley.

“Oh thank god!!” Harley cries.

She takes Ivy from you and you pull two vials from your bag, the liquid a slight green glow.

“Here, these will help Ivy get her strengths back. Use one now and the next tomorrow morning. I’ll try and buy some time with the Bat.”

Harley takes the vials and gives you a knowing nod and takes off, carrying Ivy in her arms.

You knew your emotions had gotten the best of you in that moment so you ran back inside to make sure Bruce wasn't hurt.

"How could you let her get away after doing this," Bruce scolds dodging another falling beam as it hits the ground.

"Do you know what they were going to do with that machine? It would kill the environment!" You shout.

"This refinery is what keeps Gotham out of poverty and now it's destroyed," Bruce retorts.

"Oh like you care about the people breaking their backs in this place for minimum wage while the rich get richer from their hard work, Wayne industries can keep this entire city out of poverty alone but instead you sit in your high castle only adding to the problem."

"I do everything i can to help this city," Bruce says.

"But it's not enough, it will never be enough, not for Gotham, not for the world," you stammer, "all Ivy and i want is to save the environment from those who are killing it like this refinery."

"There's gotta be a better way-"

Before Bruce could finish his sentence a loud crack came from the ceiling, another beam engulfed in flames heading straight for Bruce.

You stretch your arms and have vines pull you and Bruce towards the door, an explosion rocketing you both outside.

You hit the ground and roll with a thud, ears ringing. You clutch your head and look for Bruce amidst the debris.

You find him a good ten feet to your left, slowly rising.

“You-you saved me...” He says.

“Don’t be surprised... I may not like that you don’t trust me. But I know how important you are to this city and to Jason and Dick. Plus, I’m not a monster.”

You toss a pollen pod at him and use the cloud to escape.

It's a few days later, you haven't talked to Dick or Jason about what happened, you don't know how.

You're sitting in your lab, studying samples from a crime scene when there's a knock at your door.

"Come in," you shout across the room.

When the door opens you turn around and it's Bruce.

"What are you doing here?" You say surprised.

"I've been thinking about what you said and i have an offer for you," he says walking towards you.

"What kind of offer?"

"I want you to come work for Wayne Industries."

You sit there speechless.

"You were right, Wayne Industries can do a lot more not only for Gotham but for the world than what we are currently doing so I want to create a new initiative within the company to fight the damages done to our environment and I want you to lead the department," he explains.

You fully turn to face Bruce, eyebrow raised.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I promise. You’d be in control of the department. I’d also like to offer you a room in the Manor and apologize for not trusting you. You saved my life yesterday.”

“I can’t just up and leave my job here.”

“Actually you can. I’ve had Alfred prep recruitment papers. All you need to do is sign.”

"Have you told Dick and Jason?" You ask.

"No i didn't want to get their hopes up in case you decline," he tells you.

"And how am I supposed to tell Ivy?"

"As long as you don't tell Ivy who I really am she won't know you're working for the enemy just the richest man in Gotham," he chuckled.

"And she would be pretty happy to see me lead my own initiative," you say considering your options, "I'm in."

“Glad to hear it. What about the room at the Manor? I’d be more than happy to pay for any and all moving expenses.” Bruce supplies.

“I’ll take it. And would it be alright if I told Dick and Jason? And we could start packing my place

"I'm sure they would rather hear from you than me," he smiles, "well I'll let you get back to work."

"I gotta call the boys," you tell yourself when he leaves.

#titans imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson x jason todd x reader #dick grayson x jason todd x male reader #fic #co write #co written #sidekicks and sex pollen

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frostsinth · 4 years

Text

The Bard’s Bounty - Pt. 3

Part(s) 1 | 2

The camp is attacked, and Iara has to make a quick choice; save herself or her bounty?

Part three! Hope everyone is still enjoying. It’s fun to write their banter. The next part it pretty juicy, so please like and comment to let me know you want another update!

I stiffened suddenly, but it wasn’t at his words. Another sound had filtered to my ears; the soft snap of a branch tread underfoot. I heard Goda give a soft rumbling whicker from deep in her chest followed by a deep huff. She could smell them too.

Slowly, I slid my hand to the dagger in my boot, calculating exactly how many strides away the saddle with my sword was. And how quickly I could get there.

....

Swiftly, I sprung up, throwing my blanket off myself and slashing with my dagger at the same time. The man who had been looming over me dodged back with a yelp, barely parrying my weapon with his own. He readjusted quickly though, and thrust his sword toward where I had been.

But I was already gone.

I tucked into a roll, coming up by the saddle and deftly lifting the flap and drawing my sword in the same fluid motion. Balam gave a muffled shout, and I instinctively twisted and flicked my wrist, sending my small dagger shooting out at the other attacker making a run for the orc on the ground. She deflected the whistling dagger and fell to the side.

I had to raise my sword up to block another blow from the man, and staggered a few steps back into the firelight. My attacker followed, and the glow of the flames filled his face. My eyes narrowed and I bared my teeth.

“Varius!” I snapped, my snarl caught in my throat.

The half-elf grinned, trying to slip another blow past my defenses. I parried the attack, and lunged forward, forcing him back on his heels. Goda whinnied loudly, stamping her hooves.

I dropped low, hearing the whizzing sound before I had even registered it fully. The arrow zipped harmlessly by, and I shot a glance over my shoulder. The woman had already notched another arrow, and brought the string to her cheek.

“Iara.”

“Sigi.” My eyes glared at her through slits, then back at Varius. “This is my bounty. Back off.”

Varius twirled his sword deftly with his wrist. “It’s not yours until the gold’s in your pockets, Iara, you know that,” He shrugged his shoulders casually, “Nothing personal.”

“No honor among thieves I guess,” Grumbled Balam, his chin still plastered to the ground.

“Shut up.” I snapped at him, never taking my eyes off the pair.

Goda snorted and huffed, pacing anxiously in place, head bobbing. Sigi slowly side stepped, placing herself at a perpendicular angle to her partner, and laughed, tossing her short blonde curls back out of her face.

“You always make your life so difficult-” She kept the arrow trained on me as she moved- “The bounty is just as high if he’s dead.”

“One head is much easier to bring in than the whole body,” Agreed Varius, swaying back and forth as he tested his balance.

I watched him carefully, adjusting my stance slowly to mirror his. All the while keeping one eye on Sigi.

“Hey, I have an idea, why don’t you-”

“I said shut up!” I snapped at Balam again as he struggled to try and lift himself from his prone position on the ground.

Varius’ smirked, tapping the side of his sword teasingly against mine. “Hey, does that little enchantment of yours still hold if his head’s been severed?”

“Can’t imagine it does,” mused Sigi, her face mirroring her partner’s, “Magic doesn’t know what’s part of the body. Clothes can come off. They are not under the spell.”

“Makes sense,” Varius nodded, and pretended to lunge a little. I wasn’t fooled, and stood my ground. He grinned. “Can’t control what’s not attached.”

“I-I mean, there’s no guarantee to that-” Balam protested.

“We can also take her hand too,” Sigi proposed darkly, ignoring him, and I heard the string on her bow stretch a little further, “Then we could be sure.”

With little warning, Varius suddenly sprung forward, blade slashing. I dodged and parried, dropping to one knee. I heard the arrow whistle past my ear now, as I knew it would, and quickly moved before she could notch another. Gritting my teeth, I spun, parrying another blow and sweeping in with one of my own to force Varius around to my other side. Blocking Sigi from a clear shot.

“Let me up!” Balam growled, “Creator’s ass, girl, let me up!”

“Quiet!” I snapped, leaping up and over his legs splayed out behind me as Varius darted back in.

The half-elf was quick. I was constantly on my toes, dancing away from him and barely managing to keep the tip of his sword away from my body. I was able to get a few counter attacks in, but between his flurry of attacks and constantly having to drop out of stance to dodge arrows, I was lucky just to still be standing. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and my mind raced with possible escapes. I could get to Goda easily. And I was certain I would be able to ride fast enough to dodge any pursuant arrows or daggers. But not with the orc. The enchantment was not strong enough to move him quickly anywhere.

I gritted my teeth stubbornly and caught the brunt of Varius’ next attack full on. The force of the blow sent a shock wave rippling through my arms. But I held my stance, pushing back. Varius grinned, baring down harder, bringing himself closer.

“So stubborn, Iara,” He hissed in my face, “Don’t you know when to just give up?”

I gave him a coy smile. “Funny, I was just going to tell you the same thing.”

“Hello! Still stuck here!” Balam called, having been ignored throughout the deadly exchange. His brow was slick with sweat from his struggling.

“Shut it, meat sack,” Sigi snarled at him, “We’ll deal with you soon enough.”

“You’re not taking him anywhere!” I shot back, finally breaking out of the struggle with Varius. I managed a few quick jabs which had him dancing backwards, laughing. “His bounty’s mine!”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“If I had a choice, I’d pick the lady who keeps my head on my shoulders.” Balam chimed in.

“Oh do you ever shut up??” Snapped Sigi, turning her bow on him.

I used her brief distraction as an opportunity, shoving forward. Slipping around Varius’ defenses, I even managed to land a glancing blow as I jumped back over the orc. The half-elf’s exclamation of surprise had his partner swinging back around, but she had to jump to the side to avoid being knocked over by him as he staggered backward. I put myself between them and Balam, sword at the ready.

“He really doesn’t.” I replied, spreading my feet to shoulder width. I managed a quick glance over my shoulder at the orc. “Get to Goda.” I told him very softly, under my breath.

I could only hope he heard me, because I didn’t wait for a response. Instead, I took the chance of my lifetime, and lifted the enchantment. Then I lunged forward, sweeping my sword back and forth. Stabbing, parrying, and counter attacking as fast as I possibly could.

Varius was still nursing the wound on his shoulder as I attacked, and so was not quite so quick as I was at dodging blows. He staggered forward with a weak thrust, and I deflected it easily, side stepping. Still he managed to turn, adjusting his feet to lunge forward again with more precision. He gave a shout as an arrow suddenly shot past, barely missing his pointed ear. I knocked the off balanced shot aside, but sacrificed my defense against the half-elf, who charged back in. I knocked back two blows, staggering backwards. But Sigi had turned her aim, and I didn’t need to hear Goda whinnying loudly behind me to figure out her new target.

I jumped, shoving back Varius and leaping into the sight line of his partner. The arrow clipped my arm as it deflected off my sword, but I didn’t have time to register the cut. Varius was already moving again.

I saw the blow coming, and knew I couldn’t dodge it. Not completely. For a moment, the world moved in slow motion, and I just couldn’t move my arm fast enough. I down thrust and swept out, knocking the blow off center. I couldn’t stifle the cry as the edge of his sword cut deep into my side.

Varius fell through the blow, falling forward with a few unbalanced steps as his body followed the course of his sword. He had put too much strength behind it, expecting it to connect with something solid. As his head passed by, I bared down with the pommel of my sword down as hard as I could. I heard a satisfying CRACK, and the man crumpled to the ground.

Sigi was shouting, screaming really, but I couldn’t hear her. A huge, thick arm had wrapped about my waist and yanked me off my feet.

For half a second, I struggled, until I saw Goda’s head, and her front legs churning towards Sigi. The woman dived to the side, clipping the huge bay mare’s flank as she fell. She went spinning, tumbling down the small hill into the roots of the tree.

The blow didn’t slow us, and with a grunt, Balam lifted me fully onto my mount’s back. His hands were half curled up in the reins, half in Goda’s black mane, and he clung to me fiercely as the mare plunged forward.

Wind whistled in my ears as we moved, and I struggled to get my bearings. Wriggling, I managed to mostly right myself on the horse, but found that I was still encased in the orc’s huge arms. His chest was hot at my back, and it was the best I could do to cling to Goda as best I could and try not to fall off. I couldn’t see anything between the bobbing head in front of me and the thick arms around me. Branches snapped and cracked around us as the bay mare charged through the forest. Her powerful legs churned beneath her, and I heard her strong breath coming in rhythmic huffs.

We rode for what felt like days, but I knew it was likely my pounding head that registered the passage of time so poorly. Finally, Goda seemed to tire, and slowed, tossing up her head and panting.

“Good girl,” breathed the orc, patting her flank in relief.

I didn’t register much of anything else. My head was beginning to swim and my eyes rolled back into my head. I struggled, fighting against the sensation, forcing my eyes open. The heat from behind me disappeared, and I heard a grunt. But I swayed, without the support behind me, and felt myself begin to fall to the side.

“H-hey!” Came a shout, and I blinked through the fog.

The sensation of falling was abruptly cut short, replaced by warm arms that were both firm and simultaneously soft. I managed to open my eyes again, and as my swimming vision settled, I recognized the goofy, lopsided grin looking down at me.

“I always knew you would fall for me.” Balam teased.

...

UPDATE: Part Four HERE

#orc #orcs #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #dnd #OC #update #The bard's bounty #enemies to lovers #slow burn #romance #exophilia #terato

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found

part 04/10 “a trip to illum”

masterlist

previous part

word count 3.1k

an: my heart y'all this is killing me slowly LOOK AT HIM HES SO DELICIOUS. I had to google too much about the built of lightsabers but y’know what I do my research. the color of the crystal and the color of the saber itself are supposed to symbolize the ying yang of the readers Force connection. but.... im sure you’ll see that. enjoy!!

spotify playlist to listen to while you’re reading!

Slap.

A body fell against the mat in a loud oomph. Quickly though, they pulled themselves back up, pushing flyaway strands of their hair from their face. Catching their breath, their eyes locked onto the man who moved across from them.

Anakin was not holding back today. His chest heaved as he twirled his practice saber on his side, and watched as you pushed yourself up from the mat. Your brows furrowed at him but he just chuckled at your mad appearance. You were unarmed, he was trying to get you to be more comfortable in the chance you were ever caught without a lightsaber and while you were getting better, it wasn’t where he was hoping you would be.

“Why don’t you drop the practice saber and we’ll see how much you like this,” your voice rang out, he could tell you were playing but it also sounded serious.

“In battle things aren’t always fair -- you gotta be ready for that,” he replied. You rolled your eyes at him, and he smiled and shook his head, but got back into his stance. You mirrored him, pushing your feet into the ground and wiggling your fingers at your side.

You circled one another, his eyes glancing down at your legs and you focused on his face. Your eyes locked for a moment and you grinned at him, and Anakin narrowed his eyes.

“Stop that,” he warned.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you threw back.

“You’re trying to distract me--”

His sentence cut off short when you came at him, more aggressive than before. He swung the practice saber, and you dodged left, right, leaning backwards at some points, but still pressed him on. Anakin watched each of your legs move forward, inching closer to him, but he took control of the situation. He moved quickly, tossing his practice saber in the air, your eyes following the movement, and he made quick work to get behind you. The saber fell back down before you both, and one of Anakin’s hands gripped your waist, and his other hand snatched the practice saber, placing it against your chest. He held you against him, and you grumbled.

“Looks like another win for me,” he said, his hot breath hitting your neck. You straightened against him, blowing some of your hair from your face.

“You’re sneaky, I’ll give you that,” you replied, tilting your head a bit to glance over your shoulder.

You were close, almost too close for any Jedi to be to someone. Too intimate. Anakin’s eyes were locked with yours, and at this moment they looked a bit darker to you. Something twisted in your stomach when your hot breaths mixed together against your skin. His bare hand lingered on your hip, his grip loosening just a bit but still ghosting against the fabric covering your skin.

“Did you call the point?” you asked. Anakin narrowed his brows.

“What? No not--”

You were too quick. Your elbow collided into his side, not too hard but enough to knock the air from his lungs and his grip to release you. You spun from his embrace to face him, grabbing the practice saber from his grip, and pressing it into his chest. Anakin stood straight, looking from the saber against his chest to your face. You were smiling.

“So it’s my point then?” You cheekily asked him.

Anakin couldn’t help it, he smiled and put his hands on his hips, “Yes I guess it is.”

You lowered the practice saber, offering it back to Anakin, who took it from your. His fingers graced yours, and if you weren’t hot and sweaty at the moment you would have blushed. You walked side by side back to a bench, where you both had laid down your robes. A comfortable silence fell between you both, stealing an occasional glance as you both put your robes back on. Anakin was the first to speak, clearing his throat first.

“I think you’re ready enough for your Saber Trial tomorrow,” he commented. You walked side by side out of the training room, and you laughed a bit.

“Just enough?” You questioned. You looked at him and it looked like he was holding back a grin.

“Enough to hold your own in an empty ice cave,” he answered. You rolled your eyes, looking back before you two. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a woman approaching, dressed in a beautiful dark gown and hair done up from her face. Pale skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight that filtered in. You glanced at Anakin, who now looked..nervous?

“Padawan Skywalker,” she greeted. She smiled at him, and Anakin offered a nod back.

“Senator Amidala,” he greeted, lacing his hands together before him, “is everything alright?”

“I called for your presence,” she said, glancing your way for a moment, “I was told I could find you here.”

He nodded, “Yes I was..training,” he turned to look at you, “will you be fine continuing without me?”

You furrowed your brows, but his eyes looked at you sternly. You glanced at the Senator and nodded, “Of course.”

You didn’t see Anakin the rest of the day. You returned to Obi-Wan’s side, who walked you through what would happen tomorrow. The three of you were to leave on a shuttle to Illum for you to enter the cave and find your saber crystal. He even went over the colors and meanings behind them.

“Blue indicates a Jedi Guardian, a Jedi who uses the Force on a more physical level. Like Anakin and I. Green indicates a Jedi Consular, a Jedi who prefers to reflect on the mysteries of the Force and fight the dark side at its heart. Much like Master Yoda. Yellow indicates a Jedi Sentinel, a Jedi who has honed his or her skills in a balance of combat and scholarly pursuits. Like the Jedi guards.”

“And what about purple? Like Master Windu’s?” You asked.

“Master Windu’s was a gift when he was a youngling,” Obi-Wan said. And that was the end of that conversation.

The next morning you were up and showered relatively quickly. Your nerves had set in, noticeable as you fidgeted with the buttons on your thick coat. Dress warm they had told you, but you could wholeheartedly say you were hot at the moment. Anakin didn’t meet you that morning either, so you made your journey to the transports by yourself. You stepped off the shuttle and onto the landing platform, your eyes landing on Obi-Wan and Anakin who were already there. You were quick to join them, clearing your throat.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan greeted. Anakin didn’t meet your gaze, instead chatting with Captain Rex.

“Master Kenobi,” you greeted. You looked at the back of Anakin’s head, but he paid you no attention.

Harsh.

You followed behind Obi-Wan, Anakin and Rex bringing up the rear. You stepped up the ramp and slowed your pace when Anakin just brushed past you. You sighed a bit, and Rex came up by your side.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he commented. You smiled as he took his helmet off.

“Thank you, Rex, it’s all thanks to you and Fives. Is he joining us?”

“Afraid not,” he glanced behind you as the ramp shut and motioned towards the lift, “more than one Clone on board and we could draw unwanted attention.”

You scoffed, walking beside him to the lift, “You’re telling me having two Jedi on board isn’t going to warrant attention?”

It surprisingly didn’t. The journey to Illum was short and sweet, maybe two hours tops. As you neared Obi-Wan requested your presence in a bay area. You walked into the room to see him and Anakin waiting for you. You raised a brow at them.

“The Council has decided to do your trial a little..different,” Obi-Wan said.

“What does that mean exactly?” You asked, walking closer to the pair. You glanced between them, anakin looking at you with little to no emotion.

“Normally, you enter the crystal cave and exit with your crystal, and construct your lightsaber here on board,” he paused, causing you to raise your brow at him, “we think it would be best for you to construct the saber inside the cave.”

“By myself?” You asked and he nodded.

“The Force is what guides us on this task,” Anakin said, somewhat quiet, “it will show you how to construct it properly, if your connection is strong enough.”

“So.. Another test?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “In a way yes, please, come.”

He motioned his hand for you to come near and you did. You stood on one side of the table, and they were near a cabinet of sorts. Obi-Wan patted Anakin’s shoulder, who nodded and he left you two alone. This time, the silence wasn’t as comfortable.

Anakin cleared his throat, “Obi-Wan thought it would be best I help you choose the materials for your lightsaber.”

You nodded, only a small mhm leaving your lips. Anakin frowned, but continued on with his speech.

Everything about the Jedi you were learning was very ceremonious. Almost like a script. You listened to him explain each piece individually, it’s purpose, and close the drawer back up. It felt like he spoke for an eternity before he nodded to you.

“Now, come and pick the pieces that speak to you.”

You nodded in response, and Anakin and you switched places. He stood behind the table and watched your back as you stood before the cabinets. Carefully, you opened each drawer, and looked inside. What did speak to you?

A dark silver hilt.

A single rounded chamber emitter, also dark in color.

A silver activation switch panel, contrasting the dark color of the hilt.

A black sleeve to grip.

A flat silver pommel cap.

You turned around and placed each piece down on the table, and looked at Anakin. His eyes glazed over the pieces. They were very distinct, but a sleek design he would have never thought of himself. You looked at you, and smiled a bit.

“You’re ready for Illum.”

Illum was what you would expect of an ice planet. Cold, snowy, and your breaths visible as you exhaled. You had a pouch over your shoulder that carried everything you needed. Ahead of you Obi-Wan led the way into a vast cave entrance, and Anakin walked beside you.

“Are you nervous?” He asked suddenly. You had to glance at him to make sure he had actually said something.

“A part of me yes,” you replied, lifting each foot to move forward in the snow, “is everything alright?”

You were blunt, enough to make him look at you fully as you trudged on, “Yes.. I-I’m sorry I just had a bad night.”

“Right,” you nodded. Anakin grabbed your hand, making you stop.

“I’m sorry.. My mind has been so preoccupied recently, I didn’t mean to take that out on you,” he paused, looking over your face, “I forget you can read me too well.”

“Ani it’s fine,” you said, and offered a smile, “but we should catch up to Obi-Wan.”

“Right,” he released your hand, “you need as much time as you can get.”

Anakin and you made your way into the large ice cave. It took a few minutes to catch up to Obi-Wan, but when you did the cave opened up into a round area. On the other side, you could see the entrance to the crystal cave, and the ice wall above re-melting as the sun lowered.

“You must find your crystal and get out before the wall ices closed,” Obi-Wan warned. You blinked.

“Or else what?” You asked.

“You’re stuck inside of course,” Anakin joked.

“Nope, no, I did not sign up for that,” you replied, waving your hand around.

“He’s only joking,” Obi-Wan told you. You sent a glare Anakins way who chuckled beside you. You looked to the entrance and took a deep breath.

“Before you go,” Anakin said, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a comm link, “take this,” he ignored Obi-Wan’s stare, “just in case you need anything.”

You took the comm link and placed it on your wrist, nodding at both men. You walked closer to the crystal cave opening, and without glancing back at them, you entered inside. Each step brought you deeper and more swallowed by darkness.

The Force. You could feel it pouring from the walls. You extended an arm out, dragging your fingers against the iced walls of the cave, just letting yourself be dragged deeper and deeper inside. It felt like the Force was growing stronger and stronger around you.

You came to an opening, a ledge before you and another path over the gap at your feet. In the distance you could see a faint glow. Your crystal. You backed up a couple inches for a running start and pushed your feet beneath you. The edge got closer and closer and you flung yourself from it, passing over the dark gap and sliding onto the other side. You crouched enough to get your balance, coming to a stop inches from the gap, and you carried onwards. Closer and closer you came to the light, until it was right in front of you. Encased in ice, it glowed behind the wall and you smiled a bit. It called for you, and you pressed your exposed hand to the cold ice, and closed your eyes. The ice melted beneath your touch, your hand moving deeper into the wall until finally your fingers felt the edges. You carefully dislodged the frozen crystal and pulled it out turning it over in your fingers, and confusion came over your face.

It was a white crystal. Not like any of the ones Obi-Wan had told you about.

You took a step backwards when another wave hit you. Out of the corner of your eye, a glimmer appeared. You put the crystal into the pocket of your jacket, and looked upwards, seeing yet another crystal glowing at you.

“What?” you whispered to yourself.

But the feeling felt burned into your skin, even with the ice around you. You couldn’t ignore the feeling and carefully grabbed onto the rugged pieces of ice and hauled yourself upwards. A grunt escaped your lips as you pulled yourself up piece by piece, eyes locked onto the glowing crystal. Neither of them warned you of this happening, but here you were climbing up an ice wall to your second crystal. When you finally got eye level with it, you pulled it from the ice and placed it into your pocket. You looked up to see another ledge and pulled yourself up towards it.

Pulling yourself up onto the flat surface, you stopped to catch your breath. There, you sat for a moment and pulled out the two crystals. Nearly identical and both white. You turned them over in your hand.

“Well,” you said to yourself, “I only have space for one of you right now.”

You put one back into your pocket, and grabbed your things from your bag. Laying them out carefully, you set the bag to your side and rested the crystal on it. You looked before you at the pieces laid out and you instinctively outstretched your hand, and closed your eyes.

You focused on the Force. You felt it ghost over your body, warmth spreading throughout and to your fingertips. They wiggled slightly and you breathed evenly. The feeling slowly started to go away, almost like it was leaving through your chest, and you opened your eyes.

Before you was a fully constructed lightsaber. The dark material contrasted the ice around you, but it still looked beautiful. You slowly gripped it and turned it over in your hand before looking at the crystal beside you. You grabbed it slowly, and opened the small housing compartment and placed it carefully in.

This was it, the big moment. You stood from the ground and put your bag back on, and took a deep breath to ready yourself. You clicked the button, and the lightsaber turned on. The white blade that shot from it sounded like a sweet hum before disappearing into silences. You moved it slightly and the hum came back, and a grin appeared on your face.

You didn’t blow up, so that was a good sign.

You clicked the lightsaber off and placed it onto your hip, and it dangled perfectly against you. You were about to step back to go the way you came when uneasiness fell over you. You paused, and looked over your shoulder at the darkness. Something was telling you to go that way. You looked to your feet and shook your head quickly, and followed your gut and deeper into the darkness you went.

It was probably nothing. It shouldn’t be another crystal, and there was no one else in there besides you. You entered alone.

You were wrong on the latter.

You came to another opening, larger this time and noises coming from below. You squinted to see further and gasped at the sight. Droids. You crouched instinctively, edging just a couple steps forward to see over the edge, and try to listen to the echoes off the walls.

“Hurry up,” a droid said, “Count Dooku wants as much of these crystals as possible.”

From what you could see, there was a human with them. Male, darkly clothed, and walking along extraction sites. You watched, as he did, as they emptied carts into a large bin. A pang of guilt washed over you, and he paused in his steps and whipped his head around. You ducked quickly, he couldn’t have seen you from that far.

You slid back into the darkness and stood, edging back along the wall from the opening. You raised your arm to your mouth and took a breath before speaking.

“Anakin, come in,” you whispered.

“I’m here,” his voice called out and you covered your arm a bit, “you’re not lost are you?”

You shook your head, “Anakin I’m. . . I’m not the only one in here.”

Anakin on the other end narrowed his brows, looking at Obi-wan who looked just as surprised, “What do you mean you’re not alone?”

“Separatists. There’s a large number of droids, and there’s a man. They’re mining the crystals,” you whispered.

“(Y/N) get out of there, now-” he paused and looked at Obi-Wan, “as fast as you can.”

You nodded and took one step forward, when a shape came from the shadows. He was younger like you and dressed in an ungodly amount of black. His hands were placed behind his back and you glared at him. You stood defensively, your wrist lowering, but the comm catching your words

“I don’t think that’s an option, Ani.”

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tag list - please message me if I missed you r you would like to be added!

@robin-obsessed (I think this is it bc I can’t find anymore people..? lol)

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #star wars fic

105 notes · View notes

dust2dust34 · 4 years

Text

Our New Normal (Olicity, post-8x10, Explicit)

(read on AO3)

The glowing numbers disappeared as she slowly pushed the laptop shut.

Felicity took a deep breath and dropped her head on her crossed arms. Her glasses jabbed her in the nose. Scrunching up her face, she threw them away to land on the pillow she’d woken up on just a moment ago. The very nice pillow in the old Italian villa that she and Oliver had stayed at all those years ago. Except this wasn’t actually Italy. Not that Italy, at least. It had everything their Italy had on Earth 1. Or rather, Earth Prime. Whatever.

Chest tight, Felicity settled on her arms again and closed her eyes.

They immediately flipped back open and latched onto the half-closed laptop.

She could still see the ghostly glimmers of Smoak Technologies’ numbers running across the screen that had just been on an announcement in the Gazette of a wedding engagement.

One good thing about your husband housing a supernatural entity with nearly god-like powers? He had access to computers that let her keep track of things in the world she came from, no matter where they were. Even in a realm that didn’t technically exist… or that existed outside of the multiverse as newly created… or was a bubble outside the… bigger bubble, or…

Felicity sighed into her arms.

They had talked about it at length. She’d asked a thousand and eleven questions and he answered them all as much as he could. But long story short? He was immortal and he policed the new cosmos that he’d basically rebirthed. Oh, and when the Monitor opened the door for her back to her husband, she’d bounced back to the age she’d been when the Monitor had first come for Oliver. And double oh, she was in a sort of… pause. More like Oliver had hit the pause button. She wouldn’t age like she had, because here, in this world, time didn’t exist like that.

Which meant they would, in theory, outlive their children.

The gaping hole that ripped into the center of Felicity’s chest took her breath away.

A warm, callused hand on the small of her bare back pulled her out of her morbid thoughts.

The mattress next to her feet dipped, and then by her hip, and then a heavy, familiar weight fell onto the bed next to her. That very specific, very well-known earthy scent that was all her husband filled her nose. She breathed him in as he smoothed his hand up her spine. A wave of goosebumps erupted under his touch followed by a shiver she felt in her toes.

Felicity turned to face him.

“Hey,” her husband said, his voice soft and gentle, and that beautiful smile…

Her heart jumped at the sight as her own lips curled up in response.

It was as natural as breathing, just like Before. Except now it was a little more insistent. A little more desperate, even. As if she were preparing. As if it might be the last time. Which was ridiculous. She knew that. She was here, with him, and she was staying with him. Forever. But she still wasn’t used to it. When someone spent twenty years missing another person? Twenty years of learning to live without them, of trying to move on out of necessity, of being terrified to let go of that love because the thought of it fading away was worse than death? Well, it made remembering that this new reality of hers was actually happening a little difficult.

Until she looked at him.

And just like that, all the tension melted from her muscles and she relaxed into the bedspread.

His hand paused, his smile faltering the tiniest bit.

Oliver’s eyes lit on the laptop behind her.

She stiffened before she could stop herself.

“Just trying to reach my daily stalking quota,” Felicity said. His eyes found hers again and she plastered on a grin. “Is breakfast ready? Guess I should find a shirt. Although let me tell you, I’m getting way more used to seeing all this young skin I definitely did not appreciate enough when I had it. I should’ve walked around like this way more often. That makes it sound like I’m going downstairs shirtless, which I’m not. Although I could. It’s not like anyone’s here to stop me. But then I don’t think much eating would get done. Well, not the food kind of eating. Although if you lose your shirt, too, I know those abs of yours would make an excellent plate. Lots of experience with that. And whipped cream. All over. All… over.”

And she was babbling.

Years ago, she would have thrown out a joke to cover any accidental faux pas. But that was then.

“Which we should do,” Felicity added. “Like, right now. I’ll make you a whipped cream shirt.”

Oliver laughed, and her next smile was real. Her babbling had come back hard and fast in the last few weeks. It was refreshing and a little startling considering the somber brain-to-mouth filter she’d gained after his funeral had never gone away.

But that it still made him smile like that? It could stay lost forever.

“I am definitely a fan of losing our shirts.” But he didn’t move to take his off, or kiss her, or roll her onto her back and ravage her like he’d taken to doing since she’d arrived. Instead Oliver sighed and smoothed his hand over her back again. Felicity watched his gaze drift to where he touched her. He dragged his fingertips in slow circles, over her shoulder blades, and then up the back of her neck into her hair. He ran his fingers through the long strands, quiet wonder covered his features as he pushed a loose tendril from her face. “But there isn’t any food. Yet. I didn’t make breakfast.”

The shift in the air was tangible.

Felicity couldn’t stop herself from stiffening again. “Then what’ve you been doing?”

“You asked me,” he said, still watching his hand play with her hair, “how I did it for so many years. Watching over you, over William and Mia, and nothing else. How I could stand being so close, but… not there. With you. With them.” His voice cracked. “I could have. I could have been there with you, Felicity, even if it wasn’t always, I could have. But I didn’t.”

A tremulous breath escaped her on a quiet, “Why?”

“Because I wanted this,” Oliver admitted in a tiny voice. “I wanted you, here, with me. I knew what you were going to do, that the Monitor was going to bring you here, to me, because I created the pathway for him to do it. But it had to be just right. It had be the right time. Time is… if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that time is fickle. One little change has ripple effects that are felt throughout the entire multiverse. And I knew, if I went to you, that it would be different. Your choice would be different. Whether it was timing, or the way it happened, or how the kids turned out. God, that was the hardest one. Their future is so necessary, in so many ways, and if anything had changed for them because I was there, I couldn’t risk that.

“But that wasn’t why I did it. I wish it was, but… it wasn’t.”

“Oliver…” Felicity whispered, heart in her throat.

“I gave up so much,” he continued, finally looked back at her. He cupped her face, his fingers digging in as a tear fell down his face. “You. Our son. Our daughter. My life. And I know it was the right thing to do, I know that now as much as I did then. But then it was all over, and suddenly all I had was all of this before me. All this work, this balance I had to maintain, all this time… And all I wanted was to be selfish. For once, I wanted to have the one thing I needed more than anything else in the entire multiverse.”

He didn’t have to say it. She saw it in his eyes.

“That’s why I never came to you,” Oliver told her. “Because I needed you. The Spectre can do so much, but I can’t erase choices, I can’t change the consequences of choices people make. And the last thing I wanted to do was jeopardize you coming here. I wanted to be selfish. I am selfish. Because I wanted you here, Felicity. I needed you here. With me. Like this.”

Felicity bit her lip so hard she nearly drew blood.

Tears flooded her eyes and she blinked them away as she tried to breathe through a suddenly suffocating pressure in her chest.

She had assumed as much, when she first asked him, when he had dodged the question with a non-answer. He could have been there. He could have been there with her, with the kids, building a life together instead of the shattered pieces she’d been left with. They could have been together all those years, those achingly lonely, empty years. Even if he’d only been there sporadically, it would have been better than nothing.

Right?

No.

A burst of air rocketed out of her lungs at that, and the pressure evaporated. Ask her twenty years ago - even ten years ago - and her answer would have been very different.

But now?

She wouldn’t trade those years for anything, she realized, because they had shaped all of them.

It was the struggle - the work, the hardships, the wins, the losses - that made her see what he was saying. It was the joy that came of it, the steel, the glue that kept her family together, that let them thrive the way they did. It would have been so different, if he had been there. It would have changed things, irrevocably, because that’s what love did. That’s what their love did. Did she wish he had been there still? Absolutely. The thought alone made her want to cry with the strength of the yearning that filled her. But could she blame him? Part of her wanted to, still, because it felt like a choice she should have been involved in. Except she couldn’t have been. Because it was bigger than her, than them, all of it - the death of her husband, the opening for the Spectre, the only being strong enough to end the darkness, the only way to reconstruct what had been destroyed. But not their love. The circumstances were bigger than all of them, yes, but not their love. Nothing could destroy that. Nothing was bigger than that, and the proof was right here, wasn’t it? That she was here, with him, in a pocket of time created and maintained solely by him, so they could be together the way they had always wanted. The way they deserved.

It could have been different. They deserve to have that happy ending, the white picket fence, the two point five kids, the dog…

But this was their reality. This was the next best thing. And she couldn’t be angry about it.

Not when she faced an eternity with the love of her life by her side.

Oliver huffed out a low, self-deprecating laugh. “But even then, I couldn’t help myself.”

Felicity frowned, not following.

He stared at her for a beat. “We haven’t talked about any dreams you might’ve had during those years.”

“Dreams?” she asked. “You mean, of you? Of course I dreamed about you. You were always on my mind, you were never… Wait. Are you saying…?”

Vivid pictures filled her mind, so clear and crisp and intense that she always woke up positive it had happened. At first, it had been more than she could bear. She had even resented them for a while, wished they would stop, but then she would close her eyes and her first wish was to see him. And she did. Entire conversations, laughter, tears, words of love, affirmations, sometimes anger and frustration, throwing things and raging, and other times… his touch, all over her, inside her…

A fresh burst of tears blurred her vision as she pushed up onto her elbows.

“That was you?” Felicity demanded. “Those were real? They were… you were…?”

“It was the closest I could get to you, to William, to Mia, without really being there,” Oliver admitted. Agony twisted his face as his hand dropped from her face. “I don’t know if it was the right thing to do, but I couldn’t stand spending that much time away from you, from my family. And you were always open to me, as if you somehow knew-”

“I did.” Felicity grabbed his hand. “I was open to you. Always. God, Oliver, you have no idea what this means. Those sustained me. I was able to talk to you when I needed you most, I was connected to you when I needed to be, I thought… I thought I was losing my mind honestly, but they kept me going, as if they were… as if it was somehow you, and it was. Oh god, you were there, you saw Mia’s first steps, you saw William’s awards, you saw… Oh, that car accident, and when Mia broke her arm, and the fights she got into, and when William’s grandparents died, and work, and JJ, and Connor, god, Connor and everything he went through with John and Lyla, and… Oh, those dates? You… you were so… Oliver, for a few minutes, I felt like I had you back. I had the father of my children back, my partner, my husband.”

“I was with you,” Oliver promised, another tear falling as he squeezed her hand. “The entire time.”

Felicity surged forward, her lips finding his in a graceless kiss. His free hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer, holding her there for a long moment.

“And the kids?” Felicity asked, pulling back to look at him.

“Yeah.” Oliver took a shaky breath and nodded, his tears making his eyes luminescent. “It wasn’t as much with them, because I… I wanted to protect them from thinking anything weird was going on. Which it was. And I should have done that with you, but with you, I wasn’t as strong. It was more… memories, with them. They’d revisit something they did that day, or the week before, and I would get to be there. Like… graduations, or plays, or sleepovers. Sometimes they were things I didn’t want to see-” Felicity laughed. “But most of the time, I was able to be present for things that I wouldn’t have been otherwise. And you were there most of the time.” Oliver brushed her hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t the same. I know it would never be the same, but for a second I was with my kids. I was able to be with them the only way I could be.”

Felicity didn’t try to hide the sobs that wrenched out of her. Oliver gathered her close, kissing her, their tears combining.

“There were some mornings where they came downstairs,” Felicity whispered. “And I could see it in their faces. Mia talked about it more than William at first, but you were always there with us. Always. And they knew about it all. About everything, I didn’t keep any of it from them. They knew who you were, before the Crisis, and during.”

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“And I… I knew I was going to see Mia,” she continued. “As a grownup, when she was still a baby, and I knew that was coming for her. That she would be coming to your funeral. And that she would meet you again.”

“That made it easier,” Oliver confided, emotion choking his voice. “There was another future that had happened, before the Crisis, and their lives… your life… they were so hard, and I hated it, but it made them into the most amazing people. And I got to meet them. I got to talk to them, and hear their stories, and live with them, even if it was just for a moment. They were the most amazing people I’d ever met, and I knew so much of that had to do with you. You raised them into beautiful, strong people, and that… It made it easier, staying away. Knowing that that would happen because of you. Although I had no doubt from the beginning.”

Felicity smiled.

Or, she tried.

When it came down to it, she had still done it alone. She’d had help, of course, and it was nice knowing he’d been there, in some way, but it wasn’t what it could have been. And for a second, she mourned that with every atom in her body.

She ducked her head and burrowed into his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder. He was so warm, so alive, his heat seeping through his t-shirt into her bare skin, his arms warm around her.

Oliver pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Felicity.”

“I know,” she whispered. Her voice hitched on a sob. “I know.”

They held each other. The silence settled around them, and tension she didn’t realize had snuck back into both of them slowly slid away. Sounds of an active world outside their room filled the air - cars, birds, people talking in the distance, the pool just outside their window lapping against rock edges, the wind blowing. The comforting noises cleared away the heaviness.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but somehow their hands wound up tangled tightly together on his sternum.

“I wanted to be here with you, too,” Felicity said after a moment. “You know that, right? I needed to be with you. It was all I worked towards. It was the one thing that got me up the most. I knew when they would be okay without me, and that when they were set up and happy and safe, that I could finally find you. And I don’t regret that. It hurts knowing what could have been, but I don’t regret it. Because I have you.” His arm around her back hugged her tighter. “And Mia and William, they were with me in this, every step of the way. I didn’t hide it from them, and I wouldn’t have called the Monitor when I did if they had asked me not to. But they didn’t. Because they knew as much as I did how much of myself was missing because I didn’t have you. So no, being here now, with you, like this, I don’t regret it, Oliver.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “I don’t regret it.”

A flitting wave of relief crossed his face.

“I don’t,” she reiterated and pushed up so her lips brushed his in a kiss. “You are my everything.”

“And you’re mine,” he replied on a crack before pressing his lips more firmly to hers.

They settled in again. The shared silence a warm cocoon folding them in together.

It was almost perfect…

“But you miss them,” Oliver offered.

“Oh god, I do,” Felicity said. She sat up to see him more fully. “I knew I would, too, that I would miss them so much, and I made peace with that. I did. And with them. But talking about being away from them is one thing. Actually being away from them? And then there’s…”

“What?” he asked, smoothing his hand up to the back of her neck. “Talk to me, Felicity.”

“I know I won’t age here.” Felicity studied his eyes, and saw the instant he got what she was saying.

“But they will.”

That searing pain speared through her chest again as Felicity nodded. “Yeah.”

Oliver opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He stared at her, and she saw all of her own heartbreak and grief mirrored back at her, and she knew he’d thought about it, too. But there wasn’t an easy answer. There wasn’t even really an answer that he could give her that would any of it better. Because there was no making this better.

“I was checking in on them.”

Felicity’s heart stopped. “What?”

“When I went downstairs to make breakfast,” Oliver filled in. “I know it’s been bothering you, I know you’ve been keeping tabs on them, and I knew… Well, I hadn’t visited Earth Prime. And I knew I could, but I wanted to be absolutely, one hundred positive that I could before I told you that-”

“What are you saying?” Felicity asked, shooting up taller.

“I’m saying we should go visit our kids.”

“What? We can do that? We… can go home?” A sob cracked her voice. “I get to see my babies?”

“Yes,” Oliver whispered, tears filling his eyes.

“Oh my god,” Felicity gasped, throwing herself at him. A laugh fell out of her as she wrapped her arms around him. “Oh my god!”

His laughter joined hers as he hugged her back.

“How?” Felicity asked, pulling back. “Alright, I mean, I do get how, but-”

“Honestly, I’d thought about it long before you found me,” he said. “About how to bridge things back to the kids, how to bridge our world the way we knew it with what we have now. I can do so much, and I want to give you everything, Felicity. I want to give us everything that I can. And then you were here.” Oliver grinned, but there was a sadness that made her heart hurt. “And I had you in my arms again, and it was everything I’d wanted. I thought about bringing it up, so many times. I waited for you to bring it up, but you didn’t, and I… It just… I was scared. I couldn’t stop thinking about what they would think of me, now, about how everything happened, about the last twenty years-”

“They love you, Oliver,” Felicity told him. “They know who you are, they know everything.”

“I’m still terrified,” he admitted on a rattly laugh.

Felicity cupped his cheek and ran her thumb under his eye. “That’s what makes you human.”

“Even though I’m not technically human anymore?” he replied, and a hint of ethereal green shaded his eyes. “I’m not even technically alive anymore, Felicity. Not like I used to be. The Spectre can’t exist in a living person. That’s part of what ties us together. I don’t actually even know exactly what I am.”

His eyes dropped. “Does that… does that scare you?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Because you’re still Oliver. Because I was with you every step of the way, remember? When you came back from Lian Yu, everything you went through as the Arrow, as Oliver Queen, as a husband, as a father - I was with you. And I know that man can more than handle this. These last few weeks, ever since I got here, things have been so… normal. But I know things aren’t normal anymore. Not like they used to be.”

“No,” Oliver agreed. “I’m not just Oliver Queen anymore. I had the chance to come back, but when I chose to be the Spectre, I became something else entirely. And as the Spectre, I have a lot more to do, to keep the balance, in the multiverse. It’s funny, all those years ago, when I thought I couldn’t be the Arrow and Oliver Queen… It was you that helped me realize I can. That I can be both and so much more. None of this would have been possible without you. All those years, the years you helped me find myself, find my light, my balance, it was all leading up to this moment. I’m Oliver Queen…” His eyes grew bright green, so bright they glowed. “And the Spectre.”

Felicity stared into the glowing orbs.

His reticence was another presence in the room, and she knew he was bearing it all to her, showing her everything. There was more there now, an otherworldly presence, but it wasn’t separate. Because as much as she sensed the power in him that hadn’t been there before, it was still all her Oliver.

“Our new normal,” she said.

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered on a relieved grin.

Staring into his green eyes, Felicity kissed him. She kissed her husband, kissed the Arrow, the Green Arrow, her partner, the father of her children… the Spectre.

New normal was a bit of an understatement, but at the same time, it was exactly right.

When he tried to deepen it, she pulled back.

“So hang on,” she said. “Those dreams, the stuff you told me, was all that real, too? Like an earth made up entirely of shrimp, and when you tried to describe what it was like seeing colors you didn’t know existed-”

“Some of that.” Oliver cracked an amused smile. “I can’t say I’ve run into a planet made up entirely of shrimp yet.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Okay, so that was an actual dream, then. Got it.”

Oliver chuckled. “But the other stuff? It was all true. And I’d like to show you all of it.”

“Really? We can do that? I don’t have to have some special goddess status-”

“You’re already a goddess in my eyes,” Oliver interrupted and she rolled her eyes at him, earning another chuckle. “But no, you don’t need a special status.” He laced his fingers through hers again and lifted them as Felicity settled back against his shoulder. He pressed his face to her temple, and she felt his lips moving as he spoke. “The Spectre and I are like this, entwined together. But so are you and I. You are just as much a part of me as the Spectre, which means where I go, you go.”

“That… will be so frakking amazing,” Felicity said with a laugh.

Oliver kissed her temple. “Not as amazing as you,” he said. He rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her. Felicity opened for him and hummed at the sensation of his full weight against her as he settled between her thighs. He cupped her face. “Nothing is as amazing as you are, Felicity.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, there is an entire multiverse out there-”

“Nothing,” he reiterated before his lips slanted over hers.

She moaned. “Okay, but you’re talking about me seeing the actual freaking universe-”

“Felicity.”

“I’m just saying, there has to be some sort of-”

He cut her off again, and this time he took advantage of the opening to thrust his tongue against hers. There were more words in her brain, but they disappeared as he kissed her. He pressed her further into the mattress and she pulled her legs up higher. He groaned his approval as he settled more fully against her center, his sweats and the thin sleep shorts she had on the only thing separating her from his growing hardness.

Dragging his lips from hers, Oliver kissed his way down her chin, following the line of her jaw to the delicate spot that always made her gasp before he eased down her neck. Stubble scraping as he went, his t-shirt soft against her bare skin as he moved, Felicity’s hands landed on his shoulders, her nails digging into hard muscle. He licked and sucked and nipped and she fought to keep breathing, pushing one hand into hair that was thankfully growing back, the other sprawling over his upper back. He still had his scars, all of them, and they greeted her even through his shirt in such a familiar way that it brought tears to her eyes.

“Oliver,” she whispered as he moved down to her clavicle, her chest, her breasts. “Oliver.”

“I’m here,” he replied just as his lips found one of her nipples.

The pleasure was immediate and a strangled whimper escaped her, a shudder wracking every inch of her, her back arching to get closer. He flicked at her with his tongue, sucking before grazing the tiny bead with his teeth. Heat spiraled out from that spot, searing, coursing through her right to her core. Felicity gripped his hair tight, holding him closer, her legs wrapping around him as she thrust her hips up into his. The friction was perfect and she cried out, doing it again, earning a deep growl from him. He rotated his hips, sucking harder, pinning her down…

It was exquisite torture, and any other time she would have enjoyed the ride, but on the heels of everything they’d finally admitted to each other, it was suddenly not enough.

“I need you,” Felicity rasped. She pulled at his hair, tugging him away, and he let her nipple go with a wet pop. His lips were as red and swollen as her abused breast, his cheeks flush with arousal, his eyes glassy with need, and it was the most erotic sight she’d ever seen. Felicity grabbed his face and urged him back up to her. “I need you inside him,” she told him just before her lips crashed into his.

Hard and demanding, they kissed each other as if it was their first and last time combined in one. It was inevitable, though, in a way, the desperation that captured them, that controlled them, after everything they had been through.

After everything they had found again.

Oliver pulled back, quick and harried, and he clambered off her, nearly falling when he abruptly found the edge of the bed. Felicity followed him, scooting to the edge, her hands shoving his shirt up as he pushed his sweats down his hips. His hardness popped free, swelling even more where it bobbed between them. She abandoned his shirt and wrapped her hand around him. She didn’t waste a second before leaning forward and wrapping her mouth around his thick head, running her tongue along the slit. A salty droplet greeted her and she moaned, sucking, wanting more as she started pumping him, gripping him tight, his hot skin moving against the thick steel of his need for her. He panted out a tight curse, and then the air above her was moving where he tore his shirt off. She didn’t let him go, her want for this man so intense she felt it in her bones, taking over, controlling her, making her mindless.

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, forcing her to let him go. She didn’t get the chance to react before he gripped her waist and tossed her back onto the center of the bed. Felicity bounced, a giggle escaping her, and she caught sight of his grin but then he was gone, his fingers finding the hem of her shorts. He tugged them down, tossed them away, and then he climbing onto the bed again.

“Come here,” Felicity whispered, opening her arms, but he stopped at her thighs.

Oliver smoothed his hands from her knees up. She whined his name, spreading her legs, reaching down to grab him, but he evaded her. The look on his face - the hunger, the need, the want, the love - it had her inner walls already spasming and she arched her hips to get closer to him.

“Oliver, please.”

“You are so beautiful,” he replied, his hands finding her inner thighs, moving up. His lips followed his hands’ path, so soft compared to his calloused palms. Her head fell back on the bed with a bounce, her breaths sawing in and out, sensation swamping her. “So beautiful,” he told her again. His hot breath danced over her delicate, trembling skin, sending waves of goosebumps spiraling out. “Beautiful.”

His mouth found her weeping sex.

A cry wrenched out from deep inside her and Felicity’s back bowed again, her leg kicking out. He slid his hands under and around and clamped her hips down, holding her still as he took his fill of her. His tongue stroked against her clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking, his head moving, his mouth opening wider so he could lick down to her opening where he thrust his tongue inside her. Heat was a living thing under her skin, churning, bright and hot, the pleasure he gave her taking her breath away as he worked her. Felicity grappled against the sheets, twisting them in tight fists, thrusting up, her whimpers and pleas filling the room, the sucking noises and his moans sending her higher.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Oliver…”

Like he knew, like he could read her thoughts, like he was of the same mind as her, Oliver pulled back and climbed up the rest of the way. His face was wet from her, and he left a trail of arousal as he kissed and sucked his way up her abdomen, up the slope of her neglected breast, her nipple, her chest…

Felicity nodded when he finally reached her, when he finally settled the full length of his hard body against her soft one, when she spread her legs for him. His chin was still wet when he kissed her, and she moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue. Felicity wrapped him up in her arms, pulling her legs up as high as she could. His hard length slid across her tender, wet core and their combined moans was music to her ears.

“Yes,” she breathed against his lips as he pulled his hips back, his thick head finding her entrance. His kisses drifted down her cheek and she kissed his stubble, his jaw, his ear, the line of his hair as he buried his face in her throat. “Oliver…”

He thrust home.

Felicity’s mouth fell open in a soundless cry as he filled her, going so deep, stretching her completely. He fit inside her perfectly, like he was made for her, and she held on as he found one of her knees and lifted her leg up, letting him slide in even deeper. It was so good, so, so good, almost too good to be true…

“Is this real?” she choked out.

Oliver froze and pulled back to look at her.

A sudden sheen of tears blurred her vision and she blinked rapidly, needing to see him. He stared at her, his brow furrowed, his breaths ragged, but he didn’t move. She cupped his face, drinking him in, every little tiny thing. “This isn’t a dream, right? You’re really here. I’m here? This is…?”

Anguish twisted his brow.

“It’s real,” Oliver told her, staring into her. “This is real, Felicity, I promise.”

“You’re here?” she said, smoothing her hands over his face, down his neck, and to his shoulders.

“I’m here,” he whispered. He shifted, readjusting, and slipped his arm underneath her and across her back to grab her shoulder. Hugging her. It anchored her to him, so securely it made her chest ache. His other hand found hers. He laced their fingers together, tight and sure, and tugged them close between them, until they were completely wrapped up in each other. “You’re here,” Oliver said. “This is real. This is real.”

Felicity nodded.

“It’s real.”

He kissed her, and she knew he was telling the truth. She was here, with her love, and they were never going to be apart again.

Oliver slowly started moving. He pulled out the tiniest bit before thrusting back inside her. She moved her legs, winding one around his backside, the other slipping down to wrap around his leg. He lifted his other one for more leverage as he filled her, over and over and over…

They made love to each other, every move achingly tender, every touch reassuring. His hand gripped her shoulder, strong and sure, their laced hands never letting the other go, not for anything. When Oliver pulled back to look at her, their eyes meeting as they rocked together, she cupped his cheek, grounding herself to him even more.

Her pleasure built on a silent crest, slow and meticulous, coiling inside her in a crescendo that radiated through every inch of her.

“Oliver,” she breathed, and he nodded, pressing his forehead to hers. Felicity gripped his hand in hers, her other grabbing the back of his neck for something to hold onto. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed his air, taking him inside her in every way possible. “Oliver.”

“I’ve got you, Felicity,” he promised and her eyes flew open to find his already on her. Her pleasure peaked in a sudden swell. She gasped, stiffening, clinging to him, to his gaze. “I’ve got you.”

Felicity came apart in his arms. Fire licked through her veins, but not with the alacrity it usually did. It was slower, hotter, igniting every single nerve in her body. Her eyes slammed shut, her back bowing, her toes curling, pinpricks dancing under her skin in a swath of heat. It consumed her, and it didn’t stop, not as he kept moving, thrusting, filling her, over and over in a primordial dance that echoed in her soul.

Oliver fell against her.

Their tangled hands stayed lodged between them as he buried his face in her neck and doubled his efforts, hips moving faster, their skin colliding, his hold on her tightening.

When tiny, desperate sounds echoed against her throat, his breaths hot and wet, his lips and stubble scraping over her, sending erotic shivers through her that echoed the cascade of pleasure, she opened her eyes…

“Oh god,” Felicity breathed.

The ceiling of the villa was gone, but there wasn’t any sky, not like she knew.

A fresh wave of sensation crashed into her and she cried out as the multiverse above them glowed bright. Colors and swirls and stars and planets glowed against a black background that was as alive as the universes it cradled in its dark palm. The beauty of it was astonishing, mind-bending, filling her with awe as much as…

“Felicity,” Oliver moaned, and on one final thrust, he came deep inside her.

She felt it, felt him, felt his pleasure as much as hers, and another orgasm hit her.

They fell together, holding on to each other, coming together in more ways than one.

It was a long while before Felicity opened her eyes again, and it was only because Oliver moved to slowly ease out of her.

“Oh,” she whimpered and she turned to follow him as he fell onto the bed next to her. He pulled her close, cradling her in the security of his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to her sweaty forehead. Felicity sighed, lifting her leg to wrap around his hip, tangling their legs together. “I love you.”

“I love you,” ghosted across her hair as he readjusted, fitting her into the cradle of his shoulder and pushing his face against the top of her head. She hummed her approval, dropping messy kisses against his broad chest. His hand got tangled in her damp hair, his other skating down her ribs.

“Oliver?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I saw it,” Felicity whispered. She felt him frown in question and she pulled back to look up at him. “The multiverse.” Surprise twisted his face. “I mean, I think I did. This isn’t a play on how absolutely incredible those orgasms were, because they really, really were, and all the kudos to us for the amazing sex we just had, but… When you said my name, the ceiling… disappeared, and I saw… I swear I saw it. And then I also felt… At least I think I did… I felt you. Felt what you felt. Do I sound as insane as I think I do?”

“No,” Oliver said after a moment, his brow furrowing on a thought. “It actually makes sense.”

“Well, that’s comforting, and it also explains nothing.”

“When I’m with you,” Oliver said, staring into her eyes, “you’re all that exists for me. You are my universe as far as I’m concerned, and I think… I don’t have to concentrate to keep this place where we are going, it exists because I say it does, and it exists exactly like the world we used to live in, but I think I… blurred the lines a little bit? I let go… into you. What I was feeling. What I see when I close my eyes.”

“Wow.”

“Is that… okay?” He frowned. “I can try to pull it back-”

“No,” Felicity said loudly. “Don’t you dare. I want you letting go with me. I’m so glad I can give that to you. That I can still give that to you. That was… There aren’t words. I felt more connected to you, to the entire universe, in a way I never have before.”

“I felt that, too,” he replied softly, moving his fingers through her hair. “I felt you, with me.”

“Wow.”

Oliver smiled. “That’s why I know I’ll be able to take you with me when I have work to do. Which yes,” he added off her look, “definitely includes seeing the kids.”

“I still can’t believe that’s possible,” Felicity admitted, her hand drifting up to his chin, his jaw, wonder filling her voice. “I never dreamed that that would be something we’d get to do. That it was even possible. I should probably stop wondering about things being possible, shouldn’t I?”

“At this point?” he asked, that green shading his eyes again. “Probably.”

“So when can we go?”

Oliver grinned. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Emotion filled her chest to the brim. “I’m ready. With you by my side, I’m ready for anything. For all of it.”

“Me too.”

They kissed, a soft, loving touch that sealed that promise.

A quick shower later - and by quick, she meant one of the perks of having a god-like husband was the hot water never ran out and when she complained about pruny fingers, he made them disappear which meant they spent a wonderfully right amount of time having shower sex - they stood together in the villa bedroom.

“Hold on like this.” Oliver laced their fingers together. “Hold on to me tight.”

Felicity grinned. “You know, these might be the very platonic circumstances I was talking about all those years ago.”

He chuckled, and pulled her in close, not even needing a second to remember what she was referring to. Her heart soared as Oliver kissed her, lingering, and it went even higher when he whispered, “And we’ll explore those different circumstances a little bit more later.”

“Good thing we have all the time in the world,” Felicity replied.

He grinned, kissed her once more, and on a, “Here we go,” the world around them shifted…

And when Felicity opened her eyes, they were in a large open room. Against one window was the large face of a clock, and even though it looked wildly different from the last time she’d been in there, she knew they were in the clocktower in Star City.

Movement had both her and Oliver turning around.

What she saw had tears filling her eyes, joy filling her heart, and gratitude and love squeezing Oliver’s hand.

Mia and William sat at a bar against the opposite wall, and they both looked up at the same time. William’s face was drawn, circles under his eyes, and he looked haggard, but he was his same vibrant self, thanks in part to the obvious connection between the siblings, to Mia where she held his hand, so full of light and life.

Her babies.

“Mom…?”

“Dad?”

The End

I hope that wasn't too mean of a place to end it! I tweeted this after the finale and I wanted part of this to be a lead-up to a situation where it happens.

A/N: It’s no secret that I really loved the last scene of the finale. I also really wish Season 8 had never happened, for a number of reasons, but also because I don’t think this is how Arrow should have ended. But in the context of the Crisis and everything that S8 gave us? God yes, I loved that we got Olicity together in the end! But, of course, I had questions, and I wanted to understand things. So I babbled out a bunch of stuff. I started this after the finale and it’s slowly morphed into this. I wanted to capture as much as I could that encapsulates how I see Olicity wherever they are now. I have admittedly not looked too much into the lore or the comic books, so...

So this is my headcanon now!

(This was un-beta’d and I’ve been sick, so all mistakes are definitely mine.)

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it - reviews feed the soul and muse.

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #oliver queen #felicity smoak #arrow #arrow season 8 #fanfiction #my fics #my fics: season 8 #dust2dust34

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delimeful · 5 years

Text

watch it burn and rust (4)

warnings: violence, blood, panic, injury, fighting, fear

Chapter 4

Patton woke to the feeling of rough gloved hands against his skin, pulling him up, away from safety.

For a moment, he tried to calm himself, believing that it was just another nightmare. He just had to take a deep breath and the memories would fade.

He opened his eyes, and saw Virgil, body lax in deep sleep, the way he only got when Patton accidentally sapped too much energy. The subconscious draw from his newly emerged feathers must have affected him.

The bruising grip on his arms didn’t vanish. He realized, with a sort of ice-cold horror, that this wasn’t a memory. They had found him. They were taking him.

Patton screamed.

It was a hoarse, terrified sound, but Virgil stirred immediately, jerking awake with bleary eyes. He watched the Human take everything in, raw panic on his face, and he reached an arm out for Patton.

A moment too late.

The guards were on him in a heartbeat, two of them driving the shock rods into his sides. He convulsed, but continued to try and move, and a third, bulkier guard shoved him harshly to the ground, pinning him. Virgil howled and writhed, resistant to the last, until they increased the voltage. Patton cried out, watching Virgil spasm and then go horribly, agonizingly still. He received a heavy blow to the head for his efforts.

“I told you so. I told you something was weird about this one.” A guard spoke over Patton’s head, smug and unconcerned. “We all know it’s not much of a fighter, for a Human.”

“Ugh, whatever.” The other responded. “Never would have thought an Ampen could keep a human tranq’d like that. How’d it even survive down here?”

The hand on his arm tightened, giving him a little shake. He didn’t respond, eyes still locked on Virgil’s lifeless form. There was a buzzing in his ears.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter how. It just means we get twice the amount of harvest from this one.”

The other guard shrugged. “I suppose. Let’s get a move on already.”

They hauled him up, fingers digging into his flesh, loosening tender new feathers, and started moving out of the cell. Away from safety. Away from Virgil.

The thought made something snap in him, and he thrashed violently. “VIRGIL!”

As though his voice was a signal, Virgil moved.

He twisted under the guard’s arm like an Andlassian Viper and shoved his whole body, unbalancing his attacker. He rolled to his feet, frame listing oddly to one side, and the guards lashed out with the rods again and again, voices panicked behind their masks.

Shudders traveled through his body, but there was something wild and uncontrollable in his eyes, and he ignored the attacks, ignored the way his limbs twitched to charge at the guards holding Patton like a man possessed.

One guard instantly dropped him, ducking away and leaving the other one, who was too slow on the uptake. Virgil slammed him into the wall, the guard’s head colliding with a crunch, and when he let go, the guard dropped to the ground limply.

Patton scrambled back, out of the way and towards the door, and Virgil turned to him, concern softening his features for a blink. Behind him, Patton saw movement and shouted a warning, too late to prevent the guard that had dodged from going to wrap an arm around Virgil’s throat in a chokehold.

Virgil ducked his chin, blocking the arm from properly constricting him, opened his mouth, and bit down. His teeth sunk through the fabric of the suit and the alien’s flesh alike, and bright pink blood spurted as the guard screamed in a language Patton didn’t know. The guard wrenched himself away, stumbling back, and Virgil backed up to shield Patton from view.

He spat, baring his blood-stained teeth in a mockery of a smile, and hissed gutturally at the guards that weren’t unconscious, all of which were scrambling away into the back of the cell. Some of them were fumbling with communicators, and Patton grabbed the edge of Virgil’s hoodie, slowly backing them out of the cell with gentle tugs. Virgil refused to break eye contact until they reached the hall and the cell door closed, locking the guards in.

Immediately, he turned to the locking panel and yanked it off the wall in one motion, tearing the wires and leaving the door stuck closed. They both stared at the tangle of optic cables and crumpled plastic in his hand.

“Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.” Virgil muttered, voice on the edge of hysterics, and Patton felt a pang of reassurance. Strength or not, that was his Virgil.

He pulled on the hoodie more insistently. “We have to run!”

“Right, right.” Virgil said, voice still wobbly.

Patton took the lead, and then a moment later found himself scooped into Virgil’s arms. The Human did have much longer legs, he admitted to himself as the hallway walls passed in a blur. They were fast enough to get out, they just needed-

“There!” He shouted, tugging on Virgil’s ear to guide his vision to the worn map on the wall. It’s covered in graffiti and stains, but still usable.

“I can’t read!” Virgil blurted out, staring at the map blankly. Patton giggled, only slightly hysterical.

“It’s okay, I can.” He found the docking bay, traced his eyes along the path. “Follow my lead!”

Virgil did so without question, and their world became narrow corridors and shouted directions, twisting and sprinting and ignoring the sounds of klaxon alarms and heavy footsteps in the distance. Instructions would leave Patton’s mouth and Virgil was following them in the next stride, with no hesitation. As though they were on the same mental wavelength.

Finally, they reached a dead end, and for a moment Patton panicked. Had they taken a wrong turn somewhere? They couldn’t risk wandering aimlessly!

“Here.” Virgil pointed, drawing Patton’s gaze to the door he had missed. The label on it was faded, but Virgil seemed sure. They dove through, closing it behind them, and turned to the escape pods lining the small bay.

The alarm had been raised for a while now, so they wasted no time in hauling open one of the latches and climbing in. Virgil was big enough to make it feel cramped, but they fit, and that was what mattered.

“You drive!”

“I what?”

Patton dragged Virgil’s hands onto the steering panel, letting the autopilot begin to guide him through the process.

“I can not drive!” Virgil yelled, trying to follow the instructions.

Patton climbed over the copilot controls, calling on what he knew from years of wandering. “Learn quick!” He replied with manic cheer.

There was a groan from behind him, but the small ship began slowly but surely detaching from the bay.

As soon as they were in open space, Patton flipped the camo panels on, hoping they were advanced enough to avoid notice from the viewports of the smuggler ship. He opened up a star map, and quickly found the nearest habitable planet. They’d have to wear air filters, but that was a future problem, so long as they got out of here first.

Course charted, he returned to Virgil, who was wedged into the undersized driver’s seat and muttering what Patton assumed were curses in his native language. He climbed over his lap to give him a soothing pat. “You’re doing great.”

“Oh good, because I failed my drive test at home.” Virgil replied, voice faint but biting. Still, he watched the panel attentively, carefully maneuvering his hands to guide them. It didn’t track perfectly since Humans weren’t keyed into the general database for autopilot, but it was good enough.

A few rough patches later, Patton was desperately grateful for Human reflexes, and Virgil had loosened up slightly.

“This… actually isn’t as difficult as drive a… um. As drive at home.” He said, slightly sheepish.

Seeing as he had just finished navigating them through a minefield of space debris as though he was born for it, Patton turned a little grey imagining what deathworlder vehicles could possibly be like.

Still, they made it through, and Virgil leaned forwards as the ship began passing through the hazy blue atmosphere of H18F, the small planet Patton had chosen.

Everything seemed fine until they cleared the atmosphere and Virgil realized too late that he had no idea how to land. Patton struggled to figure out the controls for him, but the ground was approaching at a dangerous rate, and just as he managed to slow their descent, Virgil yanked him away, and everything went black.

He woke up, which was great!

Everything was oddly soft around him, and it took recognizing the fabric around him to realize that he was cradled against Virgil. The Human had grabbed him before impact and curled his entire body up as a makeshift shield of flesh. A living cushion.

“Virgil?” He said weakly, pressing a hand against the one curled around him. For a second, it was quiet, and Patton’s hearts seized at the thought that after all this, Virgil hadn’t made it. Had died protecting him.

“Ugh.” Virgil moaned from above him, slowly uncurling his limbs. “What hit me?”

“The ground.” Patton joked, his voice slightly choked up with relief. Virgil caught it, naturally, and shifted to look him over. “Okay?”

Patton nodded, only feeling residual nausea from the fall. “You?”

Virgil looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hurts awful. But I will heal.”

He stared at the pod’s sparking interface. “Sorry. Broke it.”

“It’s okay.” Patton reassured him. “Let’s get out of here?”

Virgil nodded, and after they got back to their feet and strapped on air filtrators, he shoved his shoulder against the dented door hatch, popping it open.

He climbed out first, checking around ever-wary, before giving Patton a hand up.

The dirt was covered in dark brown foliage, and the violet sky was drizzling lightly, raindrops evaporating after they hit the ground. He held a hand out, watching the rain plop into it, reflecting the glow of his feathers.

He looked at Virgil and found the Human’s face was already wet, a small, tremulous smile on his face. He found himself mirroring the expression as their eyes met.

Their ship was ruined, they were in unknown territory, and they had no idea how to get home.

It didn’t matter.

“We’re out.” Patton told him, disbelieving and joyful all at once.

“We made it.”

#sanders sides #g/t #giant/tiny #ts virgil #ts patton #my writing #writing #watch it burn and rust #blood tw #violence tw #wibar #taglist following soon #:)

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