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raywritesthings · 4 years

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Bird in a Storm 9/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, Quentin Lance, Dinah Lance, Ted Grant, Thea Queen, John Diggle, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Dinah left the Starling City airport with her suitcase rolling behind her, a small bout of nerves starting to grow. It had been so long since she’d been here, she almost didn’t recognize the place. And she worried perhaps the people wouldn’t recognize her.

But she had news, urgent news. And she needed help. Maybe once Sara was back home safe and sound, everything would be alright.

She had Laurel’s address written on a little post-it note. The sticky part on the back had long worn out, but she’d managed to hang onto it all these years. Every so often on a birthday or Christmas, she took it out and considered… but it would have been too late, she had always reasoned. Her daughter would have wondered why she had decided to reach out at that moment. Well, now she did have a reason.

She took the elevator up to the third floor and rolled her suitcase all the way down the hall, knocking on the door at the end. Dinah drew in a deep breath as she waited, hearing footsteps approach.

A young man in a shirt and tie answered the door. “Hello?”

Dinah’s greeting caught in her throat, unsure of what to do. Was this a friend of Laurel’s? More than a friend?

“Tim, who is it?” A young woman’s voice called out. A young woman who was decidedly not her daughter.

“I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong address,” she stated before Tim could answer. “I’m visiting family.”

“Oh. Well, if you need a directory or something—”

“No, that’s alright.” Dinah gripped the handle of her suitcase and took a step back. “I’ll be fine.”

She turned and left the building. With great reluctance, she directed her feet towards the precinct. She’d been hoping to speak to Laurel before Quentin, but if needs must then they must.

Dinah wasn’t surprised to find him working. He always was. She found him with his head buried in a file, only a little worse for wear than when she’d last seen him.

“Just a minute,” he said with a vague wave in her direction.

“That’s alright,” Dinah replied and watched as he froze before looking up at her.

“Dinah. What- what are you doing here?” He was staring at her like she was a ghost, and he stood slowly, one hand braced on the desk.

“Well, it’s about Sara. And about Laurel, I suppose,” she added with a shrug. “Do you know where I can find her? I tried her old apartment, but she seems to have moved out.”

“Yeah, she did that about a month ago,” Quentin told her. “Look, I’ll give you the address, but I better go over there with you. It’s in the Glades.”

“The Glades?” Even when she’d been living in Starling, the Glades hadn’t been the nicest place to find yourself. From the few news stories she’d read at times while feeling nostalgic, that had only gotten worse. “What is she doing there?”

Quentin sighed and grabbed his keys. “I’ll explain on the way.”

He started with the appearance of the vigilante known as the Hood, how he’d reached out to Laurel and how their daughter had supported him. The botched attempt at bringing him in that had resulted in Laurel’s name becoming attached to the Hood and how she’d been forced to choose between him and her job. Laurel’s subsequent fall from grace.

Even listening to the explanation, it was hard for her to grasp. “Quentin, how could this happen?”

“Well, it did. And don’t look at me like that. At least I was here.”

Dinah stared down at her lap. His words were only so biting because they were true. But he didn’t understand why she hadn’t been able to stay. None of them could.

He slowed down as they turned onto a narrow street with cars parked up both sides. “Well, which one is it?”

“I’m looking.” He stopped peering out the window to glance back at her sheepishly. “We, uh, got into it a bit, and I haven’t been over yet. But we’re patching things up.”

Dinah said nothing. She couldn’t exactly criticize him. And if both her ex-husband and daughter were in forgiving moods already, perhaps that was for the better.

He finally picked a spot to parallel park in and they both got out. A dog was barking somewhere off in the distance, and loud music echoed out of a window down the street.

Quentin knocked on the door. When it opened, Dinah couldn’t hold in a gasp.

Five years was five years, yet still they had not prepared her for the differences in her daughter. Laurel’s eyes jumped from Quentin to Dinah, widening for a moment and then narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Quentin raised his hands up. “Look, this wasn’t me. She came to the station and asked to see you.”

Dinah stepped forward, one hand reaching out. “You’ve changed your hair.”

Laurel drew back before she could quite touch the strands. “So have you.”

Dinah let her arm fall. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Would it be alright if your father and I came in?”

Laurel shrugged and stepped back. They followed her into a tiny living room that was separated from the kitchen only by a pillar with a counter branching out of one side of it. There was a couch and little else in the way of furniture. A hallway that barely fit one person held two doors; presumably bedroom and bathroom.

“Well, it’s… it’s efficient,” she remarked with a smile she hoped didn’t look too forced.

“It’s affordable,” Laurel said bluntly. “But I don’t think you’re here to inspect my living conditions, mom. You didn’t care to for the last five years.”

Dinah looked down. “Yes, I know. But I have something to tell you both, and it’s important.”

Both father and daughter had their arms crossed, staring her down. They’d always been so alike. Dinah squared her shoulders and gathered her breath. “I think Sara’s still alive.”

Quentin’s mouth dropped open. “You- how? You’ve heard from her?”

“No, but I believe she survived.”

Laurel didn’t look the least bit convinced. “If Sara survived the shipwreck, Oliver would have said so.”

“He might not know. I’ve done research. There are countless small islands in the North China Sea that she could’ve washed up on and found food, shelter.”

“What makes you so sure she did?” Quentin asked.

Dinah pulled out her trump card. “There’s a photo of an unidentified girl in the same region. Quentin, look at the hat.” She held the photo out to him and watched his expression turn first incredulous and then hopeful. “It’s just like the one you bought Sara.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he agreed softly.

“Yes, because it’s the official Rockets baseball cap sold in countless stores in the city and the stadium,” Laurel pointed out. They both looked up at her frowning face. “Let’s say Sara did make it off the Gambit alive. How did she hang onto a hat for five years and keep it in that good of condition?”

“There’s no proof that she couldn’t have,” Dinah pointed out, her voice far more feeble than she wanted it.

“Then take it to the authorities or the embassies. I don’t know why you’d bring it to me.” Her daughter turned and made as if to settle on the couch.

“Because this is about our family, Laurel,” Dinah snapped. “I know what Sara did hurt you, but don’t you care?”

Laurel stopped on a dime and spun around. “You’re asking if I care about this family? Our family died the same night Sara did. And not just because of that, but because of everything you didn’t do after.” Dinah flinched, yet Laurel continued right on. “Did you ever ask me how I felt? If I was okay? You just left, mom!”

“Honey, come on,” Quentin tried to intercede, but Laurel gave a sharp shake of the head.

“You’ve been chasing a ghost the last five years while dad and I are right here! I’ve been here this whole time, and you didn’t care. And I’m not saying I’m good enough to make up for losing Sara — but I’m… I’m something, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I have been something to you? Something to stay for?” The anger banked by the time she finished, leaving her daughter’s pleading eyes staring at her.

Dinah was at a loss for words for a long moment. “Please, Laurel, I didn’t mean — you and your father have always been so alike. You had each other. I thought you’d be alright. If I’d known that- that something like this—”

She gestured around the cramped space, and her daughter scoffed.

“Believe me, dad has given plenty of lectures.”

“But he has a point. He says you lost your job because you were protecting this- this Hood. You care about him.”

Laurel’s chin raised in defiance. “I care about the good he’s doing for the city.”

Dinah shook her head. “Sweetheart, please. I know what it’s like to feel you need to do something no matter the consequences. No matter who gets hurt. Even if it’s you. Sara was doing the same thing.”

Laurel stilled, and Quentin looked up from his close examination of the floor. “What do you mean?”

“I—” Dinah stopped herself. Could she really say this? If it helped Laurel in any way, it stood to reason that she owed it to her after all this time. “I saw her the day she left.”

“What?” The question was Quentin’s, hoarse and disbelieving.

Dinah bowed her head again. “I came home early and she was packing. She told me everything, said she was in love when I asked her not to go. I said she shouldn’t do it to you, Laurel,” she added, taking a step towards her daughter, who backed up in equal measure. “But Sara always followed her heart, just like me. You’re not that way, Laurel. You can stop this.”

Quentin sat on the arm of the couch, his head in his hands. He probably couldn’t bare to look at her.

Laurel couldn’t seem to look away, even as her lip trembled and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I follow my heart?”

Dinah drew back at the iciness in her tone. Laurel took a step back towards her so there were now inches between them.

“What do you think I was following when I agreed to a date with Oliver even knowing his reputation? When I ignored all the texts he must have been sending to other women? When I took out the lease on my old apartment thinking I’d be sharing it with another person? Did you and Sara forget that I loved him, too, or did it just not matter?”

Dinah backed up until she bumped into some shelving set in the wall, but Laurel wasn’t done. It seemed she’d unwittingly broken a dam holding five years of questions and accusations at bay.

“I follow my heart plenty of other places, too, you know? Like to the bars, to drag my father home since he can’t make it back by himself even while he’s wishing I was the one in the ocean instead of Sara. Or when I did work at CNRI, because God knows I wasn’t following a paycheck!” Laurel breathed in and out once harshly, her hands going up to her temples. To Dinah, it looked like she wanted to scream.

“Laurel, I- I’m sorry. If I’d known…”

Laurel let out a bitter laugh. “Well, how could you, mom? You weren’t here.” She walked away into the kitchen, but stopped and leaned against the counter to look at them both again. “Look, I have a friend working at the Chinese Embassy. I’ll send dad her information, and you can ask for her help with your photo as a favor to me. But the next time you come over, try calling first. Send a postcard, maybe.”

She pushed off the counter and walked to the back door, slamming it behind her and leaving a complete silence and stillness in the room.

Quentin was staring at the floor, whether out of disgust with her or shame over the things Laurel had said about him, Dinah wasn’t sure. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Let’s, uh… let’s give her some space. You- you got somewhere to stay?”

Dinah shook her head. Laurel’s old apartment had had a spare room and been in a much safer neighborhood. She wasn’t comfortable staying here even if her eldest had offered, but it seemed the polite young lady they had raised was gone, an angry woman who refused to mince her words in her place.

Her ex guided her out the front door with one hand lightly resting on her elbow, as if afraid to touch her fully.

“Well, we’ll find you something,” Quentin said.

Something turned out to be Quentin’s apartment, where she stayed in the guest room at her own insistence. She could see him swallow back the pain and injured pride.

Dinah couldn’t help fearing that Laurel had been right; their family was broken and finding Sara might not be the easy fix she’d hoped it to be.

---

Laurel paced the small lot behind her home in agitation, heart pounding still. It had been so much of what she’d wanted to say for so long — but what was going to happen now?

She’d only just agreed to try mending fences with her father again. Would he be angry with her for what she’d said? Even if it had been the truth.

And her mother. She’d probably just thrown any chances of reconciliation out the window, but why should it be up to her to make amends with a woman who hadn’t bothered to be in her life for five years? She was only here now because of Sara anyway, and she’d likely be gone the minute she found out one way or the other if Sara was alive. If her sister was really alive, maybe her dad would leave, too. The three of them could get along happily being a family together without her.

Laurel had told Oliver once that she was nobody in Starling City now that she’d lost her job as a lawyer to make trouble. He’d disagreed, but the proof was in her sitting room that she had always been a nobody. To the people that should’ve mattered, anyway.

Laurel had always hoped Sara just hadn’t been thinking about her when she got on the boat. That she’d simply been caught up in the euphoria. But to know that their mother had directly appealed to her however briefly on Laurel’s behalf, and that Sara had just ignored that?

God, she’d defended her sister from bullies in school who’d accused her of trying to steal their boyfriends, only for her sister to turn around and do it to her. And it took two, she knew that. But had Sara even felt a sliver of guilt over it all?

She had so many questions for a sister she would never get the answers from. In some ways, like her mother, she was haunted by ghosts.

“Laurel?”

She looked up and to her left. Anita was standing out on the tiny back patio she and Jerome had, an afghan wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey. Um, what’s up?”

“Heard some shouting. Was kind of impressed you were managing to have a domestic with only one person.”

Laurel grimaced. “I wasn’t alone. My parents decided to drop by unannounced.”

“Ah, family.” Her neighbor nodded, then gestured her over with an arm. “Feel free to hide out here. We can work on your sewing some more.”

Laurel glanced at her back door once before walking across. “You sure I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Nah, Jerome’s out with some friends. I was meeting some of the Salon girls for drinks later, but Izzy’s son came down with something, and it just sort of fell through. You know, canceling plans feels almost better than making them.”

Laurel nodded. “I was always more of a ‘don’t make any plans in the first place’ kind of girl.”

Anita hummed as she got down two glasses from her kitchen cabinet, then grabbed a bottle of red out of the fridge.

“I found some fabric I thought we could add to the inside of one of your jackets. Make it more fun.” She passed Laurel one glass and set hers and the bottle down before rummaging in her supplies. “See, it’s got flowers!”

Laurel felt herself smile. “Yeah. They look like some kind of hibiscus.” It was hard to tell what kind since they were white lines against a hot pink background, but she was getting better at picking out the shapes at least.

They settled on the floor of the sitting room with their wine and their respective work. Laurel could see why Anita did so much sewing. It sort of demanded a concentration that allowed someone to tune out whatever they didn’t want to think about.

Though, halfway through their cups, Anita did ask, “So, is everything gonna be okay after your fight?”

Laurel sighed. “I guess. It’ll probably just go back to the way it was, unless they miraculously do find Sara — my sister.”

Anita nodded. “The girl on the boat? I remember they talked about her on the news when billionaire boy came back.”

“Yeah. Well, because he came back, my mom’s convinced Sara’s still out there, too, and came to us after five years of no contact asking for our help. I… kind of let her have it.”

“I’d hope so. What, she never even called? Checked in?”

Laurel shook her head before finishing off her drink. She held her glass out and Anita refilled it. “But she had plenty to say about my current situation.”

“They always do.”

“And who is she to come in after all these years and judge? Apparently she just assumed I’d be fine. Well, she didn’t do anything to make sure I would be.”

“Something tells me you haven’t been fine for a long time,” Anita observed, and Laurel paused in her next stitch.

“You know, of all the people in my life, I think you’re the first person who’s ever guessed that.”

“You should’ve got yourself therapy while you still had the insurance coverage, hon.”

Laurel met Anita’s eyes and snorted. Her friend soon started laughing with her. They kept laughing until Laurel’s sides hurt and she started listing to the side a little.

She calmed down with a few deep breaths and said. “Well, it’s too late for that, but this helps.”

“Good.”

They each pulled their work back towards them and began anew.

She stayed later than she’d meant to at Anita’s and between the two of them they finished a bottle of wine. As a result, Laurel woke up later than she intended, groggy and hungry. Opening her fridge made her aware that she’d run out of milk which meant no scrambled eggs, one of the few dishes she was starting to perfect.

It’d be easier to run down and grab a breakfast sandwich from Sammy’s, but it’d be cheaper in the long run to get the milk and be able to make herself breakfast for the next week. With a sigh, Laurel shoved her feet in her shoes and left her apartment.

As Laurel approached the corner store she heard the staccato of a hammer hitting a nail. To her growing confusion, as she walked around, she spotted the shopkeeper nailing boards to the windows on the side.

“Mr. Khan?”

“Ah, Laurel!” The man straightened up and wiped his hands on his apron. He hurried inside and she followed him to the counter as he asked, “What can I get for you?”

“I’m just grabbing some milk. Is everything okay?”

“I hope it will be. That’s all I can do, hope,” he replied with a sigh. “The gangs have been getting worse since all the business with Bertinelli and the Triad. Yesterday, a couple of young men came in here asking for a protection fee.”

“They’re trying to start a racket?” Laurel asked with a frown.

“Seems that way. They tell me I have twenty-four hours to come up with the fee.” He wrung his hands in his apron and smiled ruefully. “I’m barely covering my overhead, and they expect me to have more money.”

“Did you try the police?”

“There’s no evidence of a crime, they said. So they want me to wait for these boys to come and destroy my store.”

Laurel shook her head, disgusted. It was so typical of everything going on. And everything she had resolved to help stop the other night.

She turned away from the counter, thinking it over as she retrieved the milk from the cooler. “Mr. Khan, did they say what time they’d be here?”

“Night. But I’ll be closing early. I do not want anyone hurt. I’m glad you came by today in the daytime.”

“Me too.” She wouldn’t have known anything about it otherwise. Laurel took her change and receipt as he handed them to her, then grabbed the jug as well. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Laurel quick-marched home. As it stood to her mind, she had three options: try reaching out to her father to see if he could persuade a couple officers to change their beat for the night, call Oliver and hope he was willing to suit up so soon after what happened to Mr. Merlyn, or take care of things herself. Which was what she had decided she was going to do, wasn’t it?

Laurel put the milk away and went back into her room, searching through her closet. What could she use to cover up? Some hats, a couple hoodies, a ski mask from back when she used to accompany Oliver and Tommy to Aspen.

Oliver had made do with a ski mask before. Why couldn’t she do the same?

It wouldn’t be enough to just threaten them into going away. Laurel needed weapons. She had a baseball bat and her fists. Maybe not the best odds, but it was better than nothing. And bringing her own gun would be tantamount to just leaving her ID there for the police to find. If the police even bothered to show up.

The sun sank lower in the sky as Laurel paced her apartment like some kind of caged animal. Could she do it? If she did, was it just proof she’d really lost it?

If she did nothing, Mr. Khan could lose everything. It was that thought that finally pushed her out of her door.

She came around from the side of the store, trying to stay out of the lamplight as she pulled the ski mask down over her face. There was no one out front.

Just as she started to lose her nerve again, she picked up the sounds of laughter and loud talking. Four young men with rocks and bricks came down the street, making no secret of their approach.

If she hesitated, they’d start throwing their projectiles. Laurel drew in a breath, pushed away from the wall, and stepped around the corner. The men gradually slowed to a stop as they caught sight of her.

“Hey.”

They stared at her for a minute or so, a couple sniggers breaking out.

“What’s your deal, lady?” One called out.

“My deal is that you’re attacking an innocent man’s livelihood to extort him for your own gain. That’s a crime at the state level.”

None of them seemed to know what to do with that.

“So what?”

She raised the bat meaningfully. That got loud guffaws of laughter for her trouble.

“Khan too cheap to call the Hood for help?”

“I’m not here for anyone but myself.” Her voice and limbs remained steady, but underneath that her heart was hammering so loudly she didn’t know how they all couldn’t hear it. Was she really going to do this? Assault someone in an act that decidedly couldn’t be called self defense?

A rock was thrown, and Laurel ducked on instinct. It smashed against the wall of the shop, narrowly missing a window. She swore under her breath. This wasn’t about keeping herself safe.

A man walked up to her in a swaggering manner, clearly not taking her seriously. Laurel screwed up her nerves and struck him in the chest with the bat.

He staggered back with a yell. She adjusted her hold on the bat, feeling the pulse of her heart in her ears as she readied herself the meet the others now running towards her.

It was a flurry of swings and kicks, everything she remembered from self defense and everything she’d learned from Ted the past few weeks. Like Sara’s old bullies, these boys didn’t have a refined fighting form; they had strength and size on their side. Laurel couldn’t do much about her height, but she’d gotten plenty stronger since her school days.

She was struck in the back and nearly dropped her bat but managed to keep her grip. Laurel growled in the back of her throat, whirling around and swinging it into her attacker’s gut. He grunted and fell back.

One of them tried to grab for her ski mask, and she elbowed him in the face. The other two backed up as he fell and she raised the bat again.

“Still think this is worth it?” Laurel asked.

“She’s crazy!”

“Bitch!”

Laurel took great, heaving breaths as she watched them all stagger and run away into the night. The inside of the ski mask was damp with condensation, and her back was starting to throb with a dull pain — but she felt exhilarated.

She’d done it. She’d really done it. Protected this shop all on her own. No one had even had to die.

She held in the impulse to squeal and placed a hand to her back when it gave a particularly painful twinge. She was going to need to stop by Mr. Khan’s tomorrow for some over-the-counter pain meds.

But as far as she was concerned, worth it? Oh, yeah.

---

She didn’t show up the next two days and when she did, it was with a limp she was trying her best to disguise.

“Rough night?” Ted asked as he passed by her at the punching bag.

Laurel nodded. “Tripped over a curb coming home. Didn’t see it in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.” He kept walking but didn’t really move on.

Ted watched his student with a careful eye. There was something different, alright. A part of him was afraid to look into what it was; a part of him thought he already knew the answer.

And if he did, what could he do about it? He wasn’t the type to call the cops on his students, and anyway if he did what was to stop them thinking he had something to do with it? He’d been let off before, but Ted knew his past wasn’t as distant as he might like.

People got into fights all the time. It didn’t have to mean anything. Even if he could see the gleam in her eye, the spring to her step in spite of the injury. Even if he knew in his heart this wasn’t going to be a one-time occurrence.

But there’d been nothing in the news yet. No reason for him to think anything of it. He’d just have to keep watching and be ready to intervene sooner this time, if she went the same way Isaac did.

God, he hoped not. Because despite his current misgivings, he liked this girl.

---

Oliver kept on with his mission. He had to. Not only was it his father’s dying wish, but if he stopped now people might suspect it had something to do with Mr. Merlyn’s condition. That somehow, he meant something more to the Hood than just a person he hadn’t managed to save from the corruption of this city.

He went back to the list, going tougher on the billionaires and their lackeys that held his city in a chokehold than ever before.

That meant less time at home. As always, Digg had some objections.

“Don’t you think you should take an early day sometime, Oliver? Check in with your family?”

“Thea and my mother are as fine as they will be,” he replied in the middle of a workout. It was his mother he was trying to avoid more than his sister, truth be told.

“And what about you?”

“I’m fine. I see people. I just had lunch with Laurel the other day.”

“So the one person you’re supposed to be keeping your distance from for appearances sake, you’ve been hanging out with.”

Oliver shrugged helplessly.

“You taking McKenna out anytime soon?”

He shook his head. “We talked over the phone yesterday. Decided to call it quits. She’s busy, I’m…”

“The reason she’s busy,” Diggle finished.

“Yeah, and that was probably a sign it wasn’t going to last.” He gave up on the workout and turned to face his friend. “Look, I know you worry about me, John, but this is how things have to be for now.”

They both looked up at the ceiling at the sound of yelling. It wasn’t totally abnormal for Tommy to raise his voice with the contractors, but he thought he recognized the second voice as well. Oliver sighed.

“It never rains but it pours,” Digg remarked.

“I’ll be right back.” Oliver took the stairs two at a time and slipped into the back of the club. Sure enough, it was his sister he’d been hearing.

“So? I’ve been arrested, Tommy. Does that mean I couldn’t get hired here?”

“No, of course not.”

“So what separates my crimes from his?” Thea demanded. “Is it cause I’m rich enough and connected enough that I got off with community service instead of juvie?”

“No!”

Oliver stepped forward to make his presence known. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Thea whirled around as Tommy gave a put upon sigh. “Speedy here wants me to give one of the troublemakers she calls friends a job at the club.”

“Roy’s not one of my old friends,” Thea said when Oliver raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t do drugs. He just has a bit of a reputation.”

“Yeah, with the police,” Tommy added.

“You try living by yourself in the Glades from childhood and not having a record with the police,” Thea shot back.

“There are programs!” Tommy stated, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “Charities, donation drives, ways for people without means to get what they need. You literally volunteer at a legal aid office for people without money, Thea.”

“And you should see all the people we still don’t help,” Thea remarked while crossing her arms.

“I can see you’re still talking to Laurel,” Tommy returned with a grin that wasn’t the least bit kind.

“So what if I am?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “You know, on the island, I didn’t have any money.” He didn’t miss the way both Thea and Tommy’s eyes widened at the mention of Lian Yu. “And there wasn’t anywhere to pay for anything. You had to just take what you needed.”

“Yeah, well that’s- that’s different, Ollie,” Tommy excused him. “You had to do what you needed to survive.”

“Exactly. No matter where they are, people are going to do what they have to to survive.”

He noticed Thea’s lips curve up in a smile.

“The least we can do is give them a chance to try a better way, Tommy. I’m not saying put him in charge of the register. But if this Roy is serious about wanting honest work, then he can start as a busser.”

“You really mean that, Ollie?” Thea asked.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

She hurried to him and gave him a tight hug, then headed for the door. “Great! Thank you so much. I’m gonna go tell Roy right now!”

Oliver smiled after his sister, then turned to look back at Tommy who seemed far more subdued. “Sorry. I know hiring is your area.”

“Yeah, well, it’s your club,” his friend remarked. He looked up and said. “Which is why I have to resign.”

Oliver reeled back a little in shock. “What?”

“It’s not anything to do with you,” Tommy assured him with a wave of his hand. “Just… Merlyn Global.”

“You’re going to start at the company?” He tried to keep the shock out of his voice. Tommy had never expressed any interest in joining the corporate giant.

But his friend nodded. “With my father in the hospital, I need to start learning more about the company. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in giving me this job, Ollie. It’s taught me a lot.”

“Well, hopefully it’s taught you enough to get a good start there.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No. I should have realized this was something you needed to do.” He took a couple steps to close the distance between them and reached out to Tommy’s shoulder. “Your dad would be really proud to know you’re continuing his legacy.”

A brief smile flitted across Tommy’s lips. “Let’s hope I actually can.”

They both moved in for a hug. Tommy held on just as tightly as him. Then with a pat on the back apiece, they let go.

“I’ll still see you around,” Tommy promised.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

With that, Oliver was left alone in the club. He walked over to the bar top, where Tommy had clearly been organizing some papers in preparation for him. He’d have to find the time to look through them, and soon.

In some ways, he would sorely miss Tommy’s presence and help around the club. On the other hand, it was hard to be around him right now without the guilt eating away at him. He took the papers into Tommy’s little office at the back and noticed a wilting pot of alstroemerias sitting in the corner.

One thing was for sure. Diggle probably wouldn’t like the fact that yet another person would be in his life less.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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spoon-writes · 4 years

Text

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 16

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse and soon they travel across the galaxy, looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 16 - Sinead Get Your Gun

"Stop! I'll do it!"

The yellow orb stopped a few centimeters from Sinead's face.

The Master's lips curled into an imitation of a smile and stepped back, extinguishing the yellow light. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Sinead let out a shaky breath. The room suddenly felt ice cold.

"Let her go!" Mando was straining against the guards holding him back.

"Certainly. As soon as you're done with the fight, you're both free to go."

"Now."

The Master chuckled. "That's not possible, I'm afraid. What's to stop you from trying to escape if we don't have some … collateral. I assure you she'll be perfectly safe."

She wished she could see Mando's face. He didn't look at her.

"If anything happens to her …"

The Master's smile grew wider.

"You have my word.

… … … … …

Sinead was dragged to another room a few doors down. It was smaller and bare except for a chair sitting in front of the window. The glass, which spanned the room, wasn't flawless but had a seam running down through the middle. One guard pushed her down on the chair with a rough order not to move. He needn't bother; all but two guards had left with Mando and the Master, but these two were armed to the teeth, and her entire body still felt like jelly that had been forced through a sieve.

The crowd wasn't happy about the delay, and she could feel, as well as hear, their anger through the thick glass.

"He needs to get on with it if he doesn't want a riot on his hands," said the Duros guard.

The Weequay guard grunted. "Ungrateful bastards. The Master's givin' them something to gawk at for decades, least they could do is shut up an' let him do it."

"Let's hope your Mandalorian is up for the task," the Duros said, brushing a cold finger along the back of Sinead's neck, and she flinched to the side.

The guards laughed, and Sinead ignored them. This was all her fault, but there had to be a way to fix it.

Breathe.

"Look likes the Ringmaster's ready," said the Duros, his raspy voice nearly drowned out by the screaming crowd as the Nautolan stepped up on the platform.

"LADIES AND GENTS, WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY. TURNS OUT WE HAVE A NEW CHALLENGER COME TO TEST HIS METTLE AGAINST THE ULTIMATE FIGHTER! WILL THIS STRANGER LEAVE WITH HONOR OR WILL HIS BLOOD DRENCH THE SAND!"

Sinead swallowed thickly, her stomach turning at the thought of the kid waiting for them back at the ship.

"FIRST, WE HAVE OUR REIGNING CHAMPION FROM THE DEEP JUNGELS OF KASHYYYK, THE BLOODIED, THE DARKNESS FROM RWOOKRRORRO, UANNKA THE WOOKIEE!"

A Wookiee appeared sprinting up a ramp, long legs quickly carrying him to the middle of the arena. His brown fur was shorter than most Wookiee's and he wore an intricate helmet that glinted in the sharp light. One paw held a heartlance as long as his body. He lifted it to thunderous applause.

The Duros' coarse laugh filled the room. "Your man is kriffed going up against the champion."

"Bet the Master is tryin' to kill him. No one stands a chance against the Bloodied," said the Weequay.

She tried tuning them out while her mind spun wildly out of control. Mando could take care of himself, but even he would get overpowered eventually. She doubted the Master would ever let them go even if Mando managed to get out of the arena alive.

The Ringmaster continued, "THE CHALLENGER TODAY DESCENDS FROM A PROUD WARRIOR RACE NOW MERELY A DYING ECHO IN THE GALAXY. WILL THIS ONE LIVE UP TO THE REPUTATION OF HIS ANCESTORS? BEHOLD, THE MANDALORIAN!"

Mando walked slowly up the ramp, every movement careful and calculated in stark contrast to the Wookiee, who swung his heartlance and roared so loudly that Sinead felt the air's vibrations.

They met in the middle where Mando motionlessly watched Uannka pace back and forth in the sand, puffing out his chest and roaring.

The Weequay leaned against the glass. "Look at that little shiv they've given him."

Sinead strained her eyes and saw that Mando was indeed wielding a blade barely a foot long, nothing compared to Uannka's force pike.

"Probably not even vibro."

"Barely fit to gut a gwerp."

Down on the arena floor, Uannka stopped pacing and was staring down Mando, who didn't move a muscle while Uannka blustered.

"WHO WILL EMERGE VICTORIOUS AND WHO WILL PROVE UNWORTHY?

LET THE FIGHTING BEGIN!"

It happened so fast. Barely had the echo died away before Uannka grabbed his heartlance in both hands and swung it at Mando, who twisted out of the way. The lance hit the ground and threw a cloud of sand up in the air.

They circled each other. Uannka lashed out again, and Mando stepped to the side, grabbing the lance as it passed his head. Uannka kicked out and caught Mando in the stomach, sending him sprawling on the sand.

Uannka followed and lifted his weapon.

Mando hurled a fistful of sand into the Wookiee's face. Uannka roared, and Mando rolled to his feet in one fluid motion. He dashed forward and sliced Uannka across the chest.

The blade barely broke the skin.

"See," Duros laughed. "Not even vibro."

Uannka jumped away and struck with his lance; it glanced off Mando's beskar pauldron.

"When he dies, you think she's going in the ring?" The Duros said.

"Won't put up much of a fight, will she?"

Sinead dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.

A tinny voice coming from the Weequay forced Sinead back in the moment.

"Hey, Tyrsk!"

The Weequay scowled and pulled out a comlink. "This better be important," he spat, "The fight's started."

"We got a problem out here with one of the sponsors."

"Yeah? What's it got to do with me? I'm watchin' the prisoner."

"Just get your bony ass out here! We about to have a pissed off Wookiee on our hands."

Sinead sat still as a statue, trying to look as small and harmless as possible.

Tyrsk heaved a sigh. "Fine, I'm comin'. Don't get et before I get there." He looked at the Duros. "Make sure she doesn't move."

The Duros chuckled and fiddled with his blaster. "What's she gonna do? She's just a human girl."

"Just don't let her out of your sight, okay?" Tyrsk stomped across the floor, his pale eyes boring a hole into Sinead's back. "Need to do everything myself," he muttered before the door slammed shut behind him.

Now it was just Sinead and the Duros in the small room and his presence was a heavy weight beside her. Her ears prickled whenever he moved.

She wet her lips. "What ... what did this room use to be?"

"Shut it," the Duros said harshly and flicked her ear.

"It's odd having an empty room up here, is all, surrounded by all this wealth."

"I told you to shut it." The Duros' voice was deceptively calm. "Another word out of you, and I'll feed you to the akk dogs downstairs, ya hear? Just sit there and watch your Mandalorian be turned into ground beef."

Down on the arena floor, Mando went low and drew his blade across Uannka's thigh. The Wookiee fell to one knee to the crowds' delight. Blood dripped from the weapon as Mando backed out of reach.

"FIRST BLOOD HAS BEEN SPILLED!" The Ringmaster screamed.

Uannka got up and thundered towards Mando, roaring so loudly that Sinead felt it in her bones.

Her heart stuttered to a halt.

The heartlance glanced off Mando's armor, throwing sparks into the air. Uannka kept going, his momentum too strong.

He crashed into Mando, and they both went down.

Time slowed as neither of them moved. This was it. He was dead and she was next. A strangled sob escaped her as she though of the kid, waiting for them, not knowing that he would never see Mando again …

Uannka rolled over, and Mando slowly got to his feet. His blade was buried to the hilt in the Wookiee's chest.

The crowd exploded. There was no other word for it. They howled and screamed, jumping up and down until it felt like the arena was shaking.

Sinead let out a breathless laugh. He did it!

The Master watched silently from his throne.

"WHAT A SHOW! THE MANDALORIAN HAS TRULY PROVED HIMSELF TO BE A WORTHY OPPONENT! BUT WHAT WILL HE DO AGAINST A FEARSOME PREDATOR BRED IN THE DESERT OF FLORRUM?"

Mando scrambled back as a large portion of the arena fell away, and a scaly head appeared from the darkness. A long, gnarled body lumbered up the ramp.

Sinead had only seen an Oolo once before, in the palace on Sriluur. It had been a gift from Jabba to Slezza and had killed five palace guards before someone managed to put it down.

"Well, if the Bloodied didn't kill him …" the Duros snickered.

Once the Oolo was entirely out in the open, it reared back and hissed. It looked like a boulder come to life. Its battering-ram sized tail swung from side to side.

Mando dashed across the sand towards Uannka's heartlance.

Both Sinead and the Duros jumped when the door opened, and a new guard stuck his head through the crack.

"We need your help," he said, panting slightly. "The Wookiee's gone mad, we can't control him."

"Get someone from the lower levels to do it."

"They're out doing crowd control or dealing with the Mandalorian. C'mon, man!"

Once again, Sinead looked as small as possible. Please, please, please, I'm no threat to you. Leave!

The Duros opened his mouth but was cut off by a deep roar that did not come from the arena.

"Kriff!" the guard looked down the hall and his face paled. "Just lock the door behind her, what's she gonna do in an empty room?" He slammed the door shut just as another roar split the air.

The Duros pulled her up and checked her pockets for anything that could help her escape. When he didn't find anything, he pushed her back into the chair. "If you've moved so much as a centimeter when I come back, I'll throw you into the Pit. Understand?"

As soon as the door clicked shut, she sprang into action; she wedged the chair under the door even though it wouldn't be much of a challenge for an angry Duros, it could buy her a bit more time. Next, she circled the room, running a hand across the wall, checking for any gap or crack, but it was solid all the way around.

Years of use had turned the carpet into a brownish color instead of deep red, and scuff marks outlined where there once had been heavy furniture. Whatever the room had been, it was now empty, and it didn't look like they'd left anything behind when they cleared it out.

A boom shook the building. Sinead dashed across the floor to look down into the arena: the Oolo lifted its tail and smashed it into the ground, throwing up a tidal-wave of sand where it hit. Mando threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding getting pulverized.

Sinead fell to her knees. There had to be a way out.

The Oolo reared round and tried to squash Mando with its tail again. The window rattled, and she noticed that a small gap had appeared between the wall and the glass.

With shaking hands, she grabbed the frayed rug and pulled. It came away easily and bared the cold stone floor beneath. Once it was gone, she discovered that the glass ran on a small track that looked like it hadn't been used for a long time. A tiny keyhole was set into the sliding.

Was it for maintenance? It looked old and forgotten, the guards certainly hadn't been aware of it, otherwise they wouldn't have left her alone.

She pulled out two carpet pins and jammed them into the hole. Blood pounded in her ears and she shot a frantic look over her shoulder at the door. She kept losing her grip on the pins. One snapped and she threw it across the room.

"C'mon," she whispered, wiping her sweaty brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, the mechanism clicked in place and the glass moved a centimeter before getting stuck with a grinding sound.

Sinead jammed her fingers into the crack and heaved, ignoring her screaming muscles.

Slowly, the window moved.

The deafening noise from the crowd nearly knocked her back. Thousands of voices joined together to make an unintelligible howl.

A narrow ledge ran alongside the window just wide enough for her to walk on without falling to her death.

Down in the arena, the Oolo brought its front legs down on the ground with a resounding boom. Mando jumped out of its field of vision, and it reared back, its big yellow eyes scanning the arena.

Mando appeared beneath the Oolo. The creature hissed when it saw him, spitting globs of venom. Its eyes narrowed.

Sinead couldn't look away.

As the Oolo came down, Mando thrust the lance between the Oolo's armored plates between its front legs. Its scream reverberated in Sinead's head.

She took a deep breath and stepped out on the worn stone. The air was hot and dry. It felt like she was back on Sriluur. A metallic smell of blood permeated everything.

Pressing herself against the cold, smooth glass, she inched her way along the ledge, hoping that the rooms would be empty.

A shriek went through the crowd, and Sinead instinctively looked down; she'd never been scared of heights, but the fact that the only thing standing between her and a deadly drop was a couple of centimeters of crumbling stone made her head spin and her mouth taste like cobber.

Mando backed up as three nexu stalked across the sand, their wide mouths open in a terrible grin.

She tore her eyes away to concentrate on the perilous walk. As long as nobody looked up, she would make it. Had the two guards discovered that she had escaped?

Suddenly the glass fell away, and she tumbled into the repository, or whatever it was. The world spun as she buried her fingers in the carpet, allowing herself to feel the solid ground before getting to her feet. The floor was littered with broken glass and ancient weapons which had yet to be cleared away. She grabbed a strange looking blaster on her way across the floor and concealed it under the back of her shirt. Pressing an ear to the door, she tried to still her beating heart enough to hear. There were sounds of running feet and anther ear-splitting roar; so Feyvik was still going.

She peeked into the corridor. Sounds of fighting just around the corner made her run the opposite direction. She had no idea where she was running to, only that she had to get out of there.

Shadows appeared on the wall, and her heart stopped.

A door opened next to her, and with a quick decision, she shoved it open and dove inside. A terrified servant yelped, and Sinead clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh!" She hissed, shooting a frightened look at the door. It sounded like a whole battalion sprinted by outside.

The room was a small kitchen, a stone counter and an unlit heater the only furniture. A door led into another room.

The servant shook under Sinead's hand.

A distinct Wookiee roar cut through the air and gave Sinead an idea.

"What are you doing here?" She ripped her hands away.

"I-I was just-"

"There's a Wookiee running rampant on this floor! We have to get out of here! Now!"

The servant's legs gave out under her, and Sinead had to grab her again to keep her from falling.

"Listen-"Sinead hauled her to the nearest counter and sat her down- "who else is up here?"

The servant blubbered, and Sinead shook her. For the plan to work, she had to keep the servant off balance. "Well?"

"I'm the only one up here. The Master-"

"Is there another way out of here? The stairs aren't safe." For me, anyway.

The pale servant nodded slowly and pointed a shaking finger at a metal square set into the wall. Sinead pressed a button beside it, and it opened to reveal a small lift, barely big enough for a person.

"Where does it lead to?"

"Kitchen down in the Undercroft. The big one."

"Right." Sinead crossed the floor and grabbed the servant. "In you go."

"W-what? I can't fit in there!"

Another roar sounded closer than before.

"You'd rather stay?"

Sinead helped the servant squeeze into the lift. Once she was tucked in, Sinead's finger hovered over the down button. "When you get down there, you need to tell everyone to run. Master's orders."

"But why would he-"

"Have you ever seen what an angry Wookiee can do to a person? Do you want to?"

The servant looked like she was about to faint.

"Remember! You have to run."

Once the lift closed, she had to work fast on some kind of distraction.

A stack of crates in the corner grabbed her attention and she tore the lid away and peered inside, finding dark bottles packed in sawdust. She turned one of the bottles over. Cassandran Choholl. Very useful. Very flammable.

She grabbed as many bottles as she could carry and kicked open the other door, hoping the servant was right when she said that she was alone. The door opened into a study, the only light coming from the window. It seemed that care had been taken to make the room completely soundproof, as the constant hum from the crowd faded away as soon as she stepped inside.

She threw one of the bottles as hard as she could. It flew through the air and landed on the desk, smashing into a thousand pieces. The air was filled with a sharp, sweet smell that made Sinead's nose itch.

The rest of the bottles followed. The last one was upended on the floor,

trailing back

to the door, which she propped open with a vase. Even if she ended up dying, there was a sort of solace to be found in the fact that she had wasted more credits than she would ever see in a lifetime in just a minute.

She needed fire. Every cabinet under the counter was thrown open and the content pulled out on the floor. Her mouth was dry as she frantically tried to find anything useful. It was clear this kitchen was rarely used. At least not for any fire-making purposes.

A sack at the very back of a cupboard fell over and spilled a small amount of white powder on the floor. As she pulled it out, a cloud of white whirled into the air. Flour. She could use that.

The lift whirred as it reached the kitchen down below. Sinead punched the button to call it back. That done, she flung the sack around, coating the entire room in flour. It rose like a wave around her, coating the inside of her mouth and nose. For a moment, it was all she could see.

The ancient heater groaned as she turned a knob and a small, blue flame appeared between the scorched metal.

As soon as the lift appeared, she threw herself into the small space. The last thing she saw before the lift doors closed was the cloud of flour growing bigger and the lone flame flickering on the heater. She had to curl up to fit in the lift, her knees pressed against her chest and her head bent at an unnatural angle. The contraception whirred and shook violently. The lift became smaller and smaller. Her clothes stank of Choholl, the smell enough to make her dizzy.

Just as the cold fingers of panic had closed around her throat, the doors opened. She rolled out onto the cold stone floor. The kitchen was empty.

She was picking herself up from the floor when a boom shook the building, and a blast of hot air shot out of the open lift, which jumped, and the rope holding it snapped, sending it falling into the darkness with a crash.

There were screams from up above and thunderous footsteps on the other side of the door. Once they died away, she stole into the stairwell.

The undercroft was in complete chaos. Panicked shouts filled the big chamber, workers dashed between each other, hauling ropes or cages across the floor.

No one noticed an extra person join in the confusion.

Most of the remaining workers were prepping three akk dogs to be sent up. The creatures snarled and snapped at anyone getting too close to their cages.

Sinead's eyes were drawn to the holoprojector by the large control panel showing a translucent Mando running from the last nexu. The other two lay dead beside the Oolo.

All the guards were gone, and she still had the strange blaster; taking out the lone worker operating the controls would be easy. Until someone attacked her with an electro whip, that is.

Instead, she hurried into the adjacent chamber where the caged slaves were up and whispering amongst themselves. Fear and confusion hung in the air.

Only two guards were walking back and forth between the cages. One of them brought his electrostaff down on the bars, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

"Shut up!" he bellowed.

She found Belan and slunk up beside the cage.

"You're alive," he whispered, wrinkling his brows when he saw her flour-covered appearance. "The explosion, that was you?"

"No time," she ground out. "Need you to distract the guards."

"How?"

"Figure something out."

She moved back into the shadows as he pushed his way to the top of the cage and waited until one of the guards was right beside him. His hands shot out and grabbed the guard, slamming him against the bars.

"Get off me, you little whelp!" The guard tried to snatch his blaster, but new hands grabbed his arms and held them down.

"Hey! Let him go!" the other guard ran forwards, brandishing his electrostaff.

Sinead pulled out the blaster, took aim, and fired.

A small projectile exploded out of the blaster with an ear-splitting bang and an acrid smell of chemicals. The kickback almost wrenched it out of her hand.

The guard stumbled and fell to the ground.

A dirty hand snaked around the last guard and grabbed his blaster, and he went down with a strangled scream, a smoking hole in his back.

"Get us out of here!" someone screamed.

Wires ran from all the cages to a mechanism bolted on the wall, with a simple lever that she grabbed and pulled. Every door beeped and slid to the side simultaneously. Soon the chamber was filled with thin bodies clamoring towards the sewer entrance, nearly lifting Sinead off her feet. She was shoved against a hitherto unseen workstation hidden between the cages, the sharp edge cutting into her hip. Cards from a game of sabacc were scattered across the surface.

She was about to fight her way through the crowd when something peeking out from under the workstation caught her eye and she pulled it out.

An old datapad fell into her hands, one of those without any light that flickered to a new page when you pressed a small button at the bottom of the screen. In the dimly lit chamber all she could make out was a long list of names and a number. She shoved it under her shirt and out of the way.

Panic spread among the newly freed captives as the sewer remained shut. Sinead was shoved as some of the group turned and ran for the tunnel, spilling into the main chamber. Sounds of fighting reached her, and she fought her way through the mass of bodies.

Most of the workers ran when the slaves appeared; some grabbed the nearest weapon, but they didn't stand a chance against the press of panicked people. Sinead watched as a worker brandishing an electro-whip was swarmed until he turned and ran.

Sinead made her way to the control panel. Panic from the freed slaves and her own fear made her vision blur.

The translucent Mando was still alive, but the last nexu was nearing, and he had lost the lance. When it came too close, he shot a burst of fire from his gauntlet that made the nexu rear back before the flame died away.

She looked over the control panel. There were so many buttons and levers.

The akk dogs howled.

"Screw this," she mumbled and pressed a big red button.

The mechanisms groaned as the three cages were lifted into the air. A portion of the ceiling slid down.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" She watched horrified as the creatures lumbered up the ramps to thunderous applause.

On the holoprojector, Mando threw himself to the side at the last second, and the nexu tore into one of the akk dogs, the nexu's long claws ripping into its flanks.

She started slapping the console, eyes fixed on the hologram, her breath coming out in shallow bursts. Cages opened and closed. Some were lifted high in the air or slammed into the ground.

Suddenly, a section of the ceiling fell away, and the Mandalorian rolled into the chamber in a cascade of sand.

… … … … …

Din's lungs were burning. He inched back, keeping an eye on the nexu, acutely aware that he was surrounded.

So this was how it would end. He hoped Sinead made it back to the ship, got the kid out of there. He tried to push the thought away.

The nexu crouched and opened its maw, emitting a foul stench of death and decay.

He wouldn't go down without a fight. The pain in his arm where another nexu had gotten him died away as his heart rate slowed.

This is the way.

The nexu pounced, and the ground vanished under his feet.

Din rolled backward down the ramp until suddenly he was falling. He crashed into the ground, knocking every last breath out of his chest.

The world spun. He tried to get up, but a weight landed on his chest, sharp claws tearing into his already wounded arm.

Something exploded above him and the weight disappeared.

He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

"Mando? Oh, please don't be dead."

Slowly, his vision cleared.

"Sinead?" He gasped out with his first breath.

"Thank the stars!" Her forehead hit his chest plate for a moment before she got up and pulled him with her. "We have to run!"

Muscles shook as he got to his feet. "… the … records-"

"No time!" She kept a hold on his uninjured hand and pulled him along.

As his head was clearing, he noticed that the chaos around them, empty cages and creatures fighting among themselves.

They ran up a flight of stairs, Din letting her lead the way while he came to grips with the fact that he was still alive.

Citizens of Strako, the ones who'd screamed for his blood just moments before, ran amok through the corridors. There were snarls and howls behind him as the creatures followed them up the stairs.

The cold night air hit him when they made it outside. No guards were manning the main entrance, no one stopped them as they disappeared into the city.

Strako rang out with screams that seemed louder in the night. Frantic citizens fled while snarling, roaring, howling creatures spilled from the arena.

They never stopped running.

The spaceport teemed with activity on the ground and in the air. Sinead took charge, shoving her way to the Crest, which stood untouched in its corner.

She was the first to get up the ramp and disappear into the ship. The child woke up with an angry screech as she thundered past his crib and scrambled up the ladder to the cockpit.

Din pressed the command to close the ramp and let himself slide down the wall with a pained grunt. His body buzzed with adrenaline. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he tried to slow his breathing.

The ship shook as it came to life and rose into the air, wobbling a bit before moving out of the spaceport.

Small hands tugged on his pant leg, and he opened his eyes. The child looked up at him with a scrunched face and drooping ears, gripping the doll tightly. He sensed when Din looked at him and made a pathetic little sound.

He was scared. The realization made Din's heart clench.

"It's okay," Din mumbled and lifted the kid onto his lap. "It's okay."

The kid pressed his face against Din's chest plate. The beskar had to be so cold and hard, but he still did it.

"It's okay."

Only when the ship had entered hyperspace, did Din allow himself to relax, letting some of the tension ebb out of his body. He didn't care where they were going, as long as it was away from Loovria. Another planet to add to his rapidly growing list of places he wanted to avoid at all costs.

His eyes drifted shut. With every beat of his heart, a stab of pain shot through his arm.

The sound of Sinead's boots hitting the floor brought him back. He just wanted to sleep.

"Mando?"

He looked at her. She strode across the floor, her hands fidgeting with white powder clinging to her hair and clothes.

"You … you're okay?"

He winced as he tried to sit up. "Yeah."

Sinead breathed out a sigh of relief. "I don't know where we're going. Just picked the first route out of here."

"We'll figure it out."

Her face was drawn under the harsh lights. "Mando, I'm…" she stopped, biting her lower lip.

The child made a sound as Din shifted him to cradle him against his chest before trying to stand up.

Sinead was there, grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling him towards the bunk. His first instinct was to shake her off, tell her that he could handle it himself. But he didn't. He was just so tired.

Bloodlets fell from his fingertips, and the kid reached for the injury. He made an angry sound as Sinead grabbed him and pulled him away.

"You need help with that?" Her eyes were fixated on the dripping blood, ignoring the wriggling kid in her arms.

"I got it," Din grunted. Gritting his teeth, he carefully peeled the glove off.

It was a mess. Two puncture wounds on the back of his hand seemed to be the source of most of the blood, but he could feel other injuries further up his forearm. If it hadn't been for the beskar, he wouldn't have an arm left to patch up.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sinead stepped closer while making sure the kid stayed in her arms. "Fuck," she breathed.

"It's fine." It really wasn't, but he didn't know what else to say. He gave up trying to roll his sleeve over the injuries, instead cutting the fabric away with a nearby knife.

Sinead put down the child and raced to the nearest compartment. "I used the last t' pala paste. Stupid."

"Sinead, you don't have to …" he watched as she ripped open another compartment and rifled through the contents. Pain pulsed through his arm in a steady rhythm, reaching all the way up to his shoulder. The wounds on his forearm would be easy enough to fix, but his hand was a whole other question; the nerves, tendons, and bones would take little more than a bandage.

The kid tried to climb onto the bunk, and Din halfheartedly pushed him away.

"Got it!"

Sinead turned, a bacta patch clutched in her hands, one he didn't even remember getting. Bacta was so expensive in the Outer Rim that he usually did without it. She dragged an empty box across the floor and sat down in front of him, her legs brushing against his. He watched her as she grabbed the knife and carefully cut the packet open.

"What are you doing?" He instinctively leaned back, trying to get more space between them.

"An old trick I learned in the palace. If you have a lot of injuries and not a lot of bacta, you do this." The tip of her tongue poked out between her lips as she cut the last three sides. A sickly sweet smell quickly spread through the hull. "These things can't really be reused. Not very useful in this situation."

He let her nervous chatter and the hum from the ship's engine wash over him. Pain was the only reason he hadn't already drifted off to sleep.

Something warm touched his arm and he jumped, his other hand shooting out to protect himself.

Sinead stared wide-eyed up at him. He'd grabbed her wrist so hard, she had dropped a piece of cloth that fluttered to the floor.

"Sorry," she breathed. "I thought you were asleep."

He blinked hard and let go of her wrist. The new adrenaline spike made his head spin. Had she gotten up to get the rag? The kid was back in his crib, trying to climb over the side, so she must have.

"Wasn't," he mumbled.

She bent down and grabbed the rag from the floor. "I'm just going to clean up the blood, okay?" Her voice was soft.

"Can do it myself." He reached out for the cloth, but she kept it out of his reach.

"Just relax. I know what I'm doing."

Instincts honed by years alone in the Outer Rim screamed out to push her away, to find a secluded place and mend his wounds alone. Here, he was helpless, vulnerable. If she wanted, she could kill him right now, and he wouldn't be able to stop her.

He couldn't suppress a shudder when she touched his wrist, gently turning his hand. She stopped at the movement, her eyes flickering to his. "This is probably gonna hurt."

He nodded slowly.

Biting her lower lip, she set to work on cleaning the blood, which had mostly stopped flowing. Some of it had already dried, and she rubbed carefully, watching him for any sign of pain.

He gritted his teeth, focusing his eyes on a hook hanging from the ceiling. Pain coursed through his arm, but that wasn't the most distracting part. Pain he was used to. Sinead's touch was light and gentle as she worked, now and again glancing up at him as if she could see his face, looking for any sign of discomfort. When she moved her hand, she left a tingling sensation just beneath his skin.

She left the rag on the bunk, out of the kid's reach. He had given up trying to get to Din and was sulking on the floor.

"Can you hold this, please?"

Din held the bacta patch in his good hand, and she opened it carefully, taking care to not spill any of the gel. Instead of just a gob of bacta, there was a wad of gauze drenched in the gel, and she peeled off the first see-through sheet.

"Worst part's over." She smiled up at him, but it didn't fully reach her eyes.

She started from the top, carefully placing the paper over a gash. Immediately, it was like Din had submerged his arm in water so cold it dulled all other senses.

"It takes longer to work this way, and there'll be some scarring, but it's better than nothing."

A few more scars didn't really make a difference.

She worked in silence. Din watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Mando …" she said, breaking him out of his daze. "I'm so sorry about all of this …" She stared intently at his wounded arm. "This is my fault. I should never have asked you to do this."

His brows furrowed. "But you didn't? The Pau'an-"

"That's not what I meant." She brushed a few tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid out of her face and left a bloody mark across her cheek. "I should never have asked you to pretend to be a fighter, or leave you with Rundu while I run off blindly, getting both of us caught."

He tried to summon the anger he had felt when she left him with the Neimoidian, but the bacta and her touch made it hard to feel anything at all.

"Thank you."

Her hands stilled, and their eyes met. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Din was the first one to look away, not sure what to say. His eyes fell on the blaster Sinead had left on the floor when she first entered the Crest. Suddenly, the explosion he'd heard made sense.

"Where d'you find a slugthrower?"

She looked over her shoulder at the weapon. "From the Master's collection."

"And the flour?"

Sinead looked confused for a moment before huffing out a laugh. "Oh, that. My little distraction." She scratched the side of her nose, leaving more blood. "My mother told me if I ever needed a big explosion, to find the kitchen and get my hands on whatever loose powder I could find. Every place has a kitchen. Well, except this one." She gestured with a bloodied hand to the rest of the ship.

"There's a galley."

She shot him a wry smile. "No, there's not. Just because you weld a cooker and a cold box to the inside of a gunship doesn't mean it's a galley."

"Mhm." He allowed himself to smile and leaned his head against the wall. Sinead's touch was becoming almost hypnotic.

The next thing he remembered was Sinead standing up, having wrapped the last of the bacta around his hand.

"You go get some rest. I'll clean this up," she said, going to the sink and cleaning her hands. Din noticed the blood down her shirt and in a puddle on the floor. The child had fallen asleep leaning up against his crib.

"I'm fine."

"You can't be fine, you nearly got your arm bitten off." She lifted the child and put him in his crib. "Go. I promise the world won't end just because you get some well-deserved rest."

It felt like it would.

"But-"

"Mando." The word came out in a sigh. "The bacta won't work properly unless you sleep. There's nothing here for you to do."

He looked at the kid sleeping peacefully in his crib. "If anything happens, come get me."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"Okay!" She held her hand up, palms out. "If, for whatever reason, anything happens while we're hurtling through hyperspace, I promise I'll come and get you."

Din grunted and rolled his eyes under the helmet.

The door to the storage space closed behind him, and he slipped off his helmet, taking a deep breath of recycled air. It was over.

He crawled onto the cot, not bothering to get out of the rest of his armor. His body felt heavy, and it was like his arm didn't know whether to hurt or to tingle. Quickly, the smell of bacta spread in the small room.

The last thing he remembered before drifting away was the sound of Sinead knocking around on the other side of the door.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead

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buns-with-a-book · 4 years

Text

Of a Feather

Credo/OC, because I’m also on the ‘Credo deserved better’ train. Starts during DMC4 then goes to post-DMC4

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Credo/OC Tags: @nimnox @furyeclipse @synchronmurmurs @queenmuzz @harlot-of-oblivion

Summary: Birds of a feather stick together, a phrase that rings truest with Credo and his second-in-command, Cara Hearthglen.

It was the flapping of wings that caught Credo’s attention, mere moments before the scent of iron blood filled the air. A demonic scream, sharp with rage mixed with pain, rang out in the air. He looked up, his gaze meeting a demon he hadn’t seen before. It was a mostly avian demon, deep brown wings flapping in the air. The body was covered in white feathers and armor, depicting a roaring lioness. He was held by the demon in one scaled arm, protectively so, while the other held a familiar lance. He knew that lance of gold and white, it’s red jewel shining brightly. It belonged to his right-hand woman Cara Hearthglen: Verðandi.

But if Verðandi was in it’s hand...was this...no, it couldn’t be.

“Cara?”

The demon’s head tilted, just slightly, towards him. She never went through the Ascension Ceremony, she expressed a distaste for the ceremony for the lives it took, but how was she here?

“You have betrayed us. Why?” It was Sanctus’ words that brought him out of his thoughts. The demon looked to him, clicking her beak in thought before a familiar but warped voice spoke.

“I care not for your Savior. It is humans who save humans, not any divine beings.” She pointed Verðandi accusingly at Sanctus. “However, you used Credo for your own plans!” The Devil Triggered human bristled. “I will end you, for using him so selfishly!” She swept downward, throwing Credo out of her arm. Credo felt his body collide with Dante, air thrown from his lungs. Cara circled around to fly towards Sanctus. The katana and the lance met, sparks flying between the two weapons.

“Foolish!” Sanctus snarled, throwing her back. “All that is needed is absolute power!”

“Betrayer!” Cara screeched, darting forward to meet him again. Sanctus skidded back from the force of her attack, bringing him closer to the struggling Nero. Nero grabbed Sanctus and slammed him into the wall. He disappeared, earning a confused chirp from the Devil Triggered human before the katana stabbed Nero’s arm. “Nero!”

“You fool! Escape is now impossible! The creation cannot be stopped!” Sanctus’ cackle echoed around the two, earning a frustrated chirp from the Devil Triggered human. She stared at Nero’s arm, watching it fade. Credo stared up at her, watching as her form was surrounded by gold light and brown feathers. In its place was a familiar woman with deep red hair. Her body stood tall, for the briefest moment against the sky, before she fell over, plummeting to the ground.

“Cara!” Credo rushed forward, watching her plummet downward. Whatever was being said, he didn’t hear, not with his second-in-command falling to her doom. He leapt forward, just moments before she hit the ground, and grabbed her body. Rolling on the dirty ground, he grunted from the force. Slowly, he sat up, looking up towards the moving Savior. Somewhere in the distance behind him, he heard Verðandi clatter onto the ground.

‘Kyrie...Nero…’

---

It had been days since the defeat of the Savior. Days since that transformation that wasn’t quite the Ascension Ceremony. Cara had not awakened since that transformation but she was still alive. Credo had taken it upon himself to guide the rebuilding of Fortuna (although he made it no secret his intention to leave the Order the moment Fortuna wasn’t in critical condition). Nero had put in his resignation the moment he could, not that Credo could blame him, given everything that happened.

Credo stepped into the bedroom that Cara had been placed in, glancing to her still breathing form. Despite their best efforts to awaken her, she remained deep in slumber. Her hair, normally in a tight braided bun, flowed freely on the white sheets. A part of him was reminded of blood, a part he threw aside mentally. He settled at the desk, moved to be next to the bed. Papers were spread along the desk, papers detailing the rebuilding of Fortuna. It was something he was quite familiar with, the time passing by easily with the soft slumbering sounds of his second-in-command in the room.

As he worked, his mind drifted back to when he first met the woman that would become his second in command, three years before the madness that took hold of Fortuna...

Credo stared at the young woman in her cell, still bathed in dried blood and grime. Steel grey eyes met his light brown, watching him suspiciously. He knew of her as Cara, the prized fighter of an illegal pit-fighting ring that worked in the dark corners of the city. According to the men that came back, Cara fought like a demon unleashed. It took the newly created Blanco Angelos to pin her down, and even then she managed to trash one of them before being taken down herself.

The Scarlet Demon, she had been called. There were no tactics when it came to her fighting style, just pure unleashed fury and the desire to come out of the battle alive. Perhaps that was what it was like in the pit, forced to fight demons for the amusement of the upper class of Fortuna. He almost pitied her. Agnus had talked his ear off about how he wanted to study her because not anyone could fight demons like she could and the lance she was holding at the time was something special, like the katana that washed up on the shores of Fortuna. When Agnus had touched it, Cara snarled at him and gave him a verbal lashing so harsh he scurried away. While Credo was internally amused, he kept a neutral expression as Agnus fled from her.

“You got any funny ideas about Verðandi?” Cara growled.

“Of course not. I would not like to experience such a lashing first-hand.” Credo replied. She relaxed, just a little, at that.

“What are you going to do with me? Kill me?”

“That remains to be seen.” Credo said. “But I’ve been told your ability to fight is impressive.” He went to the pile of papers, a basic file about the woman. “I heard you took down one of the Blancos.”

“Those shiny tin cans you call Blancos?” Cara growled. “I’ll hand it to you Order people, you can make fighters out of tin.” Credo flipped through the papers. It would be a waste to let Cara rot in their custody but they wouldn’t just make her part of the Order without being assured she’d stay in their ranks. But he had gathered enough about Cara to figure that she lived and died on combative honor. She wouldn’t just accept a position in the Order nor would his superiors. A plan was forming in his head...and all he needed was the go-ahead from his superiors...

A soft noise, as if someone was roused from slumber, took him from his memory. He glanced over to her, watching as she stirred.

“Son of a bitch...my head hurts.”

“Cara?�� The woman looked over to him before slowly sitting up. The blanket fell aside as she sat up, revealing the pain white shirt Kyrie had put on her. Even with the shirt on, her body was marked with scars and freckles. Her hair fell to her sides. She reached over to pull it out from covering her face.

“Credo...you...you’re alive.” She whispered, visibly relieved. Credo moved his chair to face her.

“I would say the same for you. You never told me you undertook the Ascension Ceremony.” Cara blinked before staring down at her hands.

“I never did.” Credo let out a confused hum. “I just...all I saw was you fighting Sanctus and I knew I had to help, to be by your side. You were the only man I respected in all the Order. I never forgot when you dueled me for my position as your second-in-command.” Credo closed his eyes, he remembered that duel as well. It was a long drawn-out struggle, he himself only won by sheer luck, but he never doubted Cara’s loyalty after that victory. “I wouldn’t make it, and all I heard was this...screaming. No, roaring, in my head. And then silence.” Her eyes had drifted downward. “And now I’m here. Sir...what happened?” Credo sighed and began to explain what happened, her swift rescue, the brawl against Sanctus, what befell Fortuna no thanks to the corrupted high council of Sanctus and Agnus, and the rebuilding that was currently going on. Cara listened quietly, her intense gaze shifting from her hands, to the wall where her prized lance rested against, then to Credo.

“And that is the current state of things.” Credo finished. “Once Fortuna has recovered from the events, I plan to hand in my resignation.” His hand brushed over the resignation papers. “And you?”

“You know damn well that where you go, I will follow. I’m not beholden to the Order. I’m beholden to you, Credo.” Cara shot him an intense look. Credo met her gaze, silence falling between them. She sighed, running her hand through her red hair. Credo figured, with her attachment to Verðandi, her resistance to injury, that she was a half-devil. Certainly of no relation to Sparda, not with Dante and Nero walking around looking as they did, but some other devil.

“Cara! You’re awake!” Kyrie’s voice roused him from his thoughts. Credo watched as Kyrie poked her head inside. Cara perked up at her voice.

“I’m glad to see you’re well, Kyrie.” She said, a very small smile on her face. “Is Nero well?”

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s currently off on a job but he’ll be back.” She smiled brightly. “I’m glad you’re awake now. Credo’s been worrying himself sick over you.”

“I...was concerned about the well-being of my second-in-command.” A faint blush highlighted his cheeks. Kyrie giggled.

“I’ll go get some food. I imagine you’re quite hungry.” With that, she left the room. Cara chuckled and looked to Credo.

“Concerned about me? I’m flattered.” Credo looked away.

“Cara, when we turn in our resignation papers, where will you go?”

“Wherever you go. Why?” There was always that steadfast loyalty that Credo admired. It may never have been for the Order but he knew that Cara’s loyalty was something to cherish. Especially now that she may have saved his life.

“I was merely curious.” He said at last, returning his gaze to the papers on his desk with a hint of fondness in his smile. Cara leaned back against the wall, quietly watching him work. He knew that Cara wasn’t buying his words but that would be all she would get out of him for now. All he needed was her by his side, and together, they were like birds of a feather.

#devil may cry #devil may cry oc #devil may cry credo #dmc credo

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Text

RQ Sharpe-Lance

((I decided to write down the origins of all my next gen Arrowverse OCs. Starting with the son of Avalance.))

Full name is Rip-Quentin (RQ) Sharpe-Lance

Superhero name is White Crow.

He and his twin sister were made via future tech so they are biologically both Ava’s and Sara’s.

But you know with artificial insemination there’s a higher probability of twins so...

Ava made Gary his godfather. Gary cried hard.

RQ is the older twin and it is important to him that everyone knows it dammit.

Being named after Rip Hunter and Quentin Lance, RQ has a lot to live up to.

The twins grow up on the Waverider, occasionally spending time at Uncle Barry’s or Uncle Ray’s house whenever there is a really dangerous mission.

But when he is on the Waverider little RQ gets up early and trains with whoever happened to be up.

Sometimes this means going over historical textiles with Nate or checking engine parts with Behrad. Sometimes it means battle tactics with Ava or fight training with Sara. Charlie tells him stories about all the things she’s seen in history and Mick takes him to empty fields to do target practice with the heat gun. Zari teaches hacking and John and Gary tell him about magic even though he can’t do it himself.

If nobody’s up Gideon will tell him about one of his namesakes or play back old (censored) security footage from early Legends missions.

Basically, once RQ gets older he doesn’t have powers but he’s probably the most dangerous one on the team because he just knows so much and can almost do anyone’s job for them. He can’t do magic but he can tell Calliope or Laurel the spell they need before they think of it. He can’t shift like Ely but he can blend into a crowd so well nobody will notice him.

He leads the team like his mother before him.

RQ is very much a momma’s boy, but he’s closer with Ava. They’re both logical thinkers where Sara and Laurel are ruled by their emotions.

He’s really close with Mia Queen. They’re the kind of friendship where they kick ass and judge people together. A lot of people have thought they were together but no, thank you, RQ prefers pining after Tim Drake.

Besides Mia has things with other boys over the years. She and RQ are just really good friends.

When his Mia gets erased, he promises he’ll get her back, but then later he notices how much... lighter... she seems in this new version.

His Mia put pressure on herself to measure up to her dad, Laurel, and Dinah. Her childhood idols became standards she never felt like she reached.

The new version of Mia is by no means sunshine and rainbows, but she’s happier.

RQ decides to leave her the way she is. After all, there’s no law saying he can’t make friends with her again, right?

When the Legacies inevitably end up in the past, Sara and Ava have... trouble..? bonding with Laurel, but they get along with RQ pretty quickly. They’re both just so proud of him and he’s kind of amazed that his moms were ever this cool because the moms he knew were kind of overprotective.

(Rightfully. When they were little a lot of villains tried to kidnap the twins.)

At one point, RQ somehow ends up on a mission alone where he runs into another time traveller.

It is a young Rip Hunter, from before he even assembled the Legends.

RQ is just going fuckfuckfuckfuck because if he slips up and gives too much away, he could make Rip not form the Legends or someone else could die in his place and therefore him, Laurel, and maybe every other Legends kid wouldn’t exist.

Rip is kind of... not sure what this is about because this kid says he’s a Time Master but he’s also got some serious issues with this cover story. One such issue being that he is 17.

Eventually Rip manages to crack RQ a bit, leading to him explaining that ‘in the future you will affect my family in... ways—and my moms name me after you.’

Judging by how RQ doesn’t seem to know him well, Rip kind of guesses that he dies before he gets to meet this kid.

But watching this kid who honestly is like a younger gay American version of him, Rip can honestly tell RQ at the end of whatever mission that he’s proud of him.

And that means... more to him than RQ thought it would.

Basically RQ is a badass and he leads his team of Legacies.

#arrowverse shows #arrowverse next gen #avalance #ava sharpe #sara lance #avalance kid #oc: rq sharpe lance #rq sharpe lance #dc legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow #legends #legacy heroes au

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clansayeed · 4 years

Text

Bound by Choice ― V.ii. I Have a Rendezvous with Death

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

"Trust me now more than you have ever trusted me in all our lives and all our years." But... he vowed. He vowed.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Which one of them gave me up?” I knew I shouldn’t have used that ugly name again.

His eyes sweep through the wreckage of the trench. The wall supports are starting to cave in. Another shell might just bury them both.

Serafine doesn’t answer.

Fine. “I’d be happy to continue this on higher ground.”

“Non, here will do.”

“What is it with you and tunnels beneath the earth?”

Even through the smoke he can see the way she curls her upper lip in disgust. He swears that even as the dark plumes grow darker still he can see her spit at him from afar.

Not much has changed about Serafine Dupont in the centuries since he saw her last. Her hair woven tight back then crowns her soot-stained forehead now; stray curls peek their way around her temples, her cheeks. Admittedly Cynbel prefers her in this close-cut uniform, even more in that it doesn’t bear enemy colors.

Her admirers might choose to keep la belle de Paris pristine in their memories; donned masque with laughter and seduction on her tongue. But he is no admirer and sees her now as he did then; wreathed in flame and staged upon a scene of needless death.

Needless… The thought burrows and takes root as a pounding in his temples. New to him but that made it no less true. Even as he catches the distant final beats of a heart losing too much blood he thinks it… needless.

They had died, fine. But had they needed to? To suit his amusement, perhaps. As the war had suited his amusement up until tonight.

Behind Cynbel the sandbags yield. Earth and debris sliding full to brimming and he has to step closer to her, to the relative safety of a load-bearing door frame.

“You are an arrogant fool to take your eyes off of me.”

It brings him back to her with a humorless laugh. “I’ve been called a fool for many reasons. Better reasons that that one, anyway.”

“It is the kindest of words I can think for you,” he definitely doesn’t imagine how she spits this time, “le tueur.”

At least accuse him for a murder he’s responsible for. It’s bloody London all over again, isn’t it. Cynbel claws at the patch on his uniform sleeve, colors just barely recognizable through the dirt.

“Bear the colors, Dupont. Why would I kill my own soldiers?”

“Ha! That is rich coming from you.”

It’s out of pride that he keeps his hands firmly at his sides; endures the ringing in his ears agitated by her shrill remarks. His head is healed, the two lower ribs snapped back into place by now. But his eardrums take their sweet fucking time don’t they?

Cynbel blinks through colorless sparks behind his eyes and names them embers. Across the aisle Serafine raises her chin defiant. Not spit this time — it’s pure venom that flies from her tongue in words.

“Or were their lives not a sacrifice you deemed worth making?”

Then Serafine twitches her hand and pulls his world out from under his feet. The silence of a land cleared for war replaced by the hollow barely-there echoes of the city. The smell of burning no longer all around but faint and hidden below. The moon is the same one that hung in both skies but there are no shells here, these cobbled streets have seen no falling angels of war, so she bathes them full and bright in her light.

Serafine still looks like Serafine. A quick glance, the drag of his nails over military-issued cloth; Cynbel still looks like Cynbel too.

But Belgium is three hundred years away and all the slumbering souls in Paris know not of the war that rages beneath their feet. It’s the opposite of a miracle; beautiful but aberrant. And in all his years the Golden Son has never seen or experienced the like.

“What — how did we…?”

“Over the years I thought of many ways to play this out,” the vampiress says instead, “whether here or in the burning husk of the former grand hall. Then I wondered if somewhere else would be more fitting. You certainly gave me a variety of choices over the decades; les Trois Amants gouging the world wherever they went, all the catastrophe you left in your wake. I wanted this to serve as a reflection for you. The theatre had to be carefully chosen. It had to mean something.

“But I do not care about that any longer. I do not care if your brazen act of massacre on this night meant nothing to you when it was finished. It matters to me and that, Cynbel, is more than enough.”

Slow and sure he begins to understand.

“This is a memory of that night. Yours or mine?”

“Neither. It is the memory of Paris herself.”

The years haven’t been kind to Serafine’s sanity; that much is clear. But the risk is worth it when Cynbel looks at his back with the fleeting hope that Valdas and Isseya would be standing there now as they had been that night. He remembered them, she did too.

Paris, however, did not.

“It’s a feat of remarkable power and psychic skill.” He’ll give her that because to say otherwise simply isn’t correct. “Are we still in the trenches — physically, I mean. Ah well, burning flesh has never been my favorite part of war so I should thank you for making that go away at the least.

“I’d be obliged if you showed me the trick of it. There are quite a number of memories I wouldn’t mind bringing back for a little while…” Cynbel’s voice trails off with his thoughts but the damage is done. Bewilderment, outrage, vengeance twist through Serafine inside and out. And all in concert with the ringing in his ears as it grows, and grows, and grows.

“I know it was you who fired the gun.”

It grabs his attention and that’s all she wants. Because she waits until she has it to show him a second of her (apparently many) skills. Another twitch; not even. A shadow of a gesture.

BANG.

So loud and hollow and real that Cynbel feels muscle memory recoil from the pistol weight. It sends him staggering off balance, leaves him struggling to find himself firmly planted again but still in this psychic Paris.

That memory could be no one else’s; of that Cynbel’s certain. He laughs and laughs at it but with the pain growing in his temples he can’t quite tell if it’s from amusement or growing uncertainty.

The elder vampire shakes it off and steels himself with clenched teeth. His fangs ache sheathed in his gums. “Not like I covered my tracks that deeply — not to the right eye.”

“The supernatural eye.”

“The humans were content,” he flashes her a cheeky wink, “and I was in for a good spanking.”

“Are you really so blind to the enormity of your actions?!”

“Are you really here to scold me?”

What was hiding behind shadows of movements comes into the light with a war cry. Her voice shatters in her throat and with a wide gesture she throws Cynbel through the air. Pushes him prone with unseen forces against the nearest building wall. The stone should yield under the weight of him but Paris does not remember a crumbling wall, so there isn’t one.

He collides with a sharp jerk of his neck. Feels pain lance through him white-hot and growing hotter even when the force vanishes as quickly as it came and sends him crumpling to the alley flagstones.

Fucking psychics. It feels like their travels through China all over again.

And that answers a great number of questions. Many on the topic of pain.

Cynbel struggles—actually struggles, first time in… in he doesn’t know how long—he pull himself up and put his spine back in the position it’s meant to be in. Serafine watches with seething satisfaction and her laugh drips mockery thick as blood.

She approaches him slowly. Each step purposeful; an announcement. And with her advance every. single. time he feels it — hears that ringing like a hammer forging with his skull at the anvil.

“You, like the rabid hound of hell that you are, plunged the world into this war. This isn’t a religious campaign or a mere battle of territories, Cynbel. This is nations, continents! There are millions dead and more yet to come before it ends and you dare to ask me if I am here to—to scold you?! As if you are some child incapable of grasping consequences?!”

When she’s close enough Cynbel takes his turn and spits on her muddy boots.

“Well pardon me, since that’s what it looks like.”

“You are a monster!”

Serafine psychic grip is far less dainty then she; he learns this the hard way. Can feel something pop out of place as her invisible power wrenches him from his knees and a head above her. The spread of her fingers shaking in wrath, in righteous justice spreading his limbs very near free of the rest of him.

Whatever she’s doing — some part of the memory, her psychic fury made physical, everything is too needled at the edges for Cynbel to know — it hurts. Pain like he hasn’t felt in millennia. The boar that gouged his side when he was a child. The first of his Made-God’s kisses that devoured his throat.

He isn’t healing. Or not like he should. And he will continue to suffer so long as Serafine wishes it.

No, not wishes. She demands it. And here on the battlefield of her own choosing his body can do nothing but yield.

Through her power she binds him at the throat; head held high and unable to look away from her bared fangs, her hellish eyes. “You are a monster,” she repeats, “and worse — you know it. You have always known it. Haven’t you?”

He doesn’t even try to answer; doesn’t think he could if he wanted to and his defiance tightens her hold. “I said haven’t you!”

“Yes —” Cynbel’s blood tastes burned at the back of his throat and leaves him choking on it, “— I am a monster. Yes — I know it. I know the war was my doing. I know there are millions dead for it. The millions before them, too, were my doing.”

But Serafine doesn’t care about them. He’s near certain she doesn’t even care about any of the bodies piled higher than mountains behind Cynbel, behind his beloveds. She only cares about them.

His lips peel back to fangs red with his own blood. “Just like I know every dead vampire under your feet was my doing too. I always have. But you seem to be laboring under a delusion that says otherwise.”

“I assure you I see everything very clearly.”

“Do you now…? Because what I see is the scared young hostess; the pathetic waif that would rather flee in cowardice than take up arms. How many of my dead could have been saved had you stayed to fight?”

Serafine backhands him. A physical touch. One that stings physically and fades like all wounds should. And he prefers it that way — all psychic blows lack the passion and heat of the fight. Of the kill.

And no one has ever claimed him lacking in passion.

“I thought as much.”

“You cannot twist blame onto me. I mourn your dead; even the ones I do not know. I must.”

“And why the fuck is that?”

“I see the threat you pose!”

“Let me free and I’ll show you how much of a threat I can be.”

“Not you — not you alone. But you — your blasphemous Trinity.”

The surprise of it stuns him. It lasts just long enough for the vampiress’ own passion to make her falter. Just a little — a little is more than enough.

He finds the place where her psychic bonds are weakest. Cynbel wrenches his leg free of them with a primal growl and finds the crunch when his boot collides with her face undeniably satisfying. Serafine staggers back, howls at the pain and all of those little psychic bonds quickly unravel at the seams without her to keep them woven.

Paris melts around them. Buildings, the cathedral in the distance, even the moon melting like candles until they are left back in what remains of the trenches — smells, sounds and all.

In the distance thunder — not thunder, thunder holds strength but he can hear only power — more shells, then. The enemy are determined to claim the land in victory and they spread their fingers out wide to do it. Like Serafine had.

Serafine who groans on her knees and rushes to stand. Blood and dirt caked to her chin and neck while her hair comes down in curls around her face. It brings a wildness to the sight of her.

It brings him to finally see the murderous intent in her eyes. It’s been there the whole time. But Cynbel let himself ignore it; he had to. The war has made him weary but he’s still him. Still Cynbel, the Golden Son, firstborn of Valdemaras — he is the wars raged across the world throughout time.

He is weary but not enough to die. And Valdas promised to take him home.

Serafine was as little of a threat then as she is now. Or that’s what he’s allowed himself to believe.

“You three will be the death of us all.”

Pop — he rolls his shoulder bone back in place. “Cut the dramatics.”

“I see it. Kamilah sees it too. And Gaius would — if the destruction in your wake interfered with his plans again.”

Again, she says it like she was there, the arrogance… “You’re trying my patience.”

“Be it human or vampire you three have proven endlessly the havoc you will wreak in one another’s name.”

“What the fuck else do you expect?!” It was a lie — he has no patience for her to try. Cynbel pins her to the door frame holding on for dear life and they aren’t in a memory, not anymore. The wood creaks in warning.

“No one understands. No one can — no one has the capacity not even fucking Kamilah Sayeed.” He laughs; weak, lamenting. “I gave up trying long ago because of this — you. Those like you.”

Her sneer is pitiless. “We are the ones who have suffered; the ones who have lost and grieved because of your obsessive, destructive love!”

He’s cut out tongues and torn hearts in two for lesser insults. Which he’ll choose for her will be entirely dependent on time.

“Wrong! You are the ones who see us in pieces, fragments. You come into our lives and judge us in your entirety but you—you and all others like you are so. very. temporary. You don’t deserve the right to judge us but you take it anyway. Where you see your beloved Paris we see the land that was crushed to build it. Where you see what you call obsession we… we…”

If Cynbel had continued the shell that makes impact a hundred paces ahead would have drowned him out. But he’s trying at a fruitless pursuit the Trinity has been struggling against for two thousand years. Trying to put words where they are none that tell the story fully, none that can fill the vastness of their hearts and instead leave them with scraps.

“We have seen—done—lost so much. We are our constant. And nothing I could say could ever give you enough to feel it for yourself. Not if we had hours. Not if we had days, years. And I’m… I’m sorry for that. I could never live without it.”

Let her judge us, he thinks. She already has and she will continue to for as long as I keep her alive. And she is not the first nor will she be the last.

He wants to let it go. For Valdas waiting for him in whatever remains of the nearby town. For Isseya waiting for them both to return to her. He wants to let it go.

But that won’t save them. Serafine Dupont is unique — she’s gotten closer than anyone ever has before. But what of the Serafine that follows her; the faceless figure who follows in her footsteps? Or the one after that? Maybe not now, maybe not in a hundred years… maybe not even for another two thousand. But one day… that’s all it will take.

He won’t be enough to save them.

The next shell lands close enough they both flinch. Misses the vampires and the crumbling trenches only enough for chunks of Belgian soil to rain down overhead. Serafine tries to fight him off to no avail. He will always be older — he will always be stronger.

Cynbel blinks back tears from stinging eyes. Dirt and ash and smoke and the dead all around them.

He isn’t quite sure her tears are quite the same.

“You would let the rest of the world grieve…” he catches every vibration, every hesitation with his hand on her throat, “… so you never have to?”

“For them… yes.”

He knows from the moment the word leaves his lips that, to Serafine at least, he’s made the wrong choice. But he tried; he did. He tried to help her—make her understand.

Because loving them was never a choice.

Her attack comes unexpected. Because he loves them, because he misses them, though more likely because not every psychic blow is dealt outside the mind.

She drills a hot poker through his popped eardrums and skewers his head upon it. She makes the ringing in his ears louder and louder and endlessly tolling with every church bell he’s ever heard. She transmutes every nerve and thought into brittle glass, shatters them, and puts them back together at jagged angles that bleed him dry.

Serafine is too focused to hear the high-pitched whistle; the song the last shell sings through the air.

It doesn’t miss.

read: I Have a Rendezvous with Death by Alan Seeger

#bloodbound #playchoices fanfiction #bloodbound fanfiction #choices bb #choices bloodbound #serafine dupont #fic: oblivion bound #oblv: bound by choice #oblv: new chapter #oc: cynbel #; my fics

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kanawolf · 4 years

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@glaiveweek

Day 1 - General Theme: Sunrise

Specific Prompts: Rebuilding // Time of Mourning // Time of Healing

(Day 3 - General Theme: Alternate Universe (AU) )

Title: In the Wreckage

Rating: PG - 13

Warnings/Reasons: Descriptions of Injuries, Swearing

Characters: Tredd Furia, Luche Lazarus, Kayden Undare (OC), other Glaives mentioned/

Summary: As the sun rises over the ruins of Insomnia, Tredd and Luche pull themselves out of the wreckage and find their best friend amongst the rubble, bloody, beaten, yet still alive, even after beating the infamous General Glauca. They bring her someplace safe, and fall asleep after the sun rises. Heavily AU and Headcanon inspired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking through the city street, Tredd grimaced. The corpses of people and the diamond weapons were littered throughout. The Old Wall was broken.

Tearing a piece of cloth of someones’ coat, he bandaged his arm and ignored his aching head. He had heard the order from Drautos over his earpiece. Making his way through, he was surprised when his phone buzzed.

[ txt ] Luch: Where are you?

[ txt ] Luch: I need help.

Staring at his phone, he wondered how Luche survived. He had seen the airships fall out of the sky, and he had known Luche had been on one. Not that it really mattered. At least there was another Glaive alive.

[ txt ] I’m not sure, making my way to the plaza though

[ txt ] Where are you?

[ txt ] Luch: Close to the plaza.

[ txt ] Luch: Can hardly recognize it anymore.

‘Well shit.’ Tredd thought. Catching a still partially upright street sign, he knew he wasn’t far from the plaza. How he was going to get there was another question entirely though. While the wrecked airships and diamond weapons, he had a feeling that if he were on a bridge it would have broken by now. At least he could find a path through the rubble.

If only he could warp.

He didn’t bother trying, not again.

Pulling himself over the rubble, he nearly choked at the sight of the bodies. The crumpled Glaives jackets was all he needed to see.

Until he saw a familiar, and alive, face. Sprinting, fully ignoring the sharp spiking pain through his leg, he grimaced when his knee hit the ground. “Luche!” Grabbing the coat, he rolled Luche over and sighed in relief when he saw one of his best friends hadn’t died. With all that had happened, it felt reasonable to worry.

His stomach churned over the sight of Luche’s blackened veins, the bullet hole in his side and the now slowly oozing blood.

Luche, to his credit, looked only mildly concerned about it. Or perhaps that was worse. They all had suffered physical trauma and learned to compartmentalize and ignore pain.

“Finally showed up Furia. Took you long enough.” Groaning as Tredd pulled him to sitting, he gritted his teeth against the pain.

“Yeah, yeah. You can scold me later. We need to get out of here, before this place starts crawling with Imperial soldiers.” Pulling out his last potion, Tredd gently gave it to Luche. “Think you can stand now?”

Letting the magic heal part of his wounds, Luche took a deep breath. It hurt, but not like it had moments before. Nodding, he pushed himself to his feet and let Tredd pull his arm over his shoulder. Leaning on him, Luche looked in the direction of the bridge. “I don’t know how we’re going to get out. I saw Crowe, Nyx, and Libertus leaving over the bridge, but I think it’s destroyed now. And I lost track of Kayden when Glauca appeared and she decided to fight him.”

“Shit,” Of course she did. It was just like last time, except she had found them last time, not the other way around. “Well, she couldn’t have done much. Hopefully she’s in the plaza.”

Stumbling occasionally as they walked through the streets, Tredd and Luche slid down rubble and into the plaza. The sun was beginning to rise now, more light poured over the streets. It was the light reflecting off metal that caught their attention.

General Glauce lay amongst the ruins. A kukri stuck out of his shoulder, and a lance sized hole in his armor told them what they needed to know.

The crumpled body off to the side, laying in a pool of her own blood cause Tredd to nearly drop Luche as they ran over. Rolling her over, Tredd felt his throat close.

Blood stained her clothes. A gaping cut in her left side still had blood slowly oozing from the wound. A faint shimmer, like water reflecting off light, could be seen over the wound.

But what surprised them the most was the scales. Over her face, neck and wrists, were deep blue scales that had seemingly grown into her skin. Two small horns, one broken, crowned her head.

Sharing a look, both men decided to ask her about it later when she woke up. She had to wake up.

“Kayden. Hey, Kay. Wake up.” Gently shaking her shoulder, Tredd glanced around frantically. She needed medical help, and soon. His gaze landed on an SUV. With any luck, it would still run if hotwired. Patting Luche’s shoulder, he made his way over to it while Luche kept an eye on Kayden.

Watching Tredd limp away, a deeper intake of breath snapped his attention back to Kayden. Seeing her still struggling to breathe, he pulled for the pocket in his coat. He only has an adrenaline shot and one potion left. He hoped they’d be enough.

Giving her the potion, he waited until her eyelids fluttered before feeling like he could breathe again.

Blearily, Kaydens’ eyes opened. The world was sideways, rubble and rust were what she first saw.

“There you are.”

Following the side, she tilted her head. A smile, pained but still there, and she felt her world come into focus more. “Hey Luch. You look like shit.” Chuckling at her own joke, Kayden immediately hissed, grimacing in pain.

Relieved, Luche let himself chuckle, even though he was filled with concern for her. Never before had he seen her with slitted eyes. Gently pulling her up to sit against the wall, he let himself smile in return. “You’re one to talk.” Looking over his shoulder, he hoped Tredd would hurry. There was only so much blood one could lose and survive through sheer force of will. Turning back to look at her, Luche saw her pitch forward.

He didn’t strictly need to catch her though, but he did. Her head on his shoulder, he kept one arm wrapped around her to keep her steady. “Hey now. Don’t pass out on me. We have to make sure Tredd gets a car.”

Chuckling weakly against his shoulder, Kayden nodded. “Yeah, yeah I know. Help me up then?” She knew she was still bleeding, but if she could stand, then maybe they could find Tredd. Seeing the look on his face, she patted his shoulder. “I know I shouldn’t, but we need to go don’t we?”

She had a point, one Luche really couldn’t argue with. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he gritted his teeth against the pain in his side and helped her to standing. Just in time too. A black SUV pulled up, and Tredd lowered himself out. Shaking his head and silently telling Tredd to not ask.

Light glinting off metal caught her eye. Looking past Luche, Kayden grimaced at the sight. She didn’t know how she’d done it. He had always won, and yet she was the one still standing.

Following her gaze, Tredd and Luche shared a look. Wrapping his arm around her waist to help Luche move her, Tredd smiled as gently as he could. “He’s not going anywhere any time soon Kay. You did it.”

“I know.” Her voice was solemn, but she smiled when she looked at her best friends. “How did you find a car that still works?”

Chuckling, Tredd helped get laying down in the back seat. “I have my ways. You know I was always a delinquent.”

Raising an eyebrow, Luche huffed at his friends and shook his head mumbling under his breath, “Of course you were. Why am I not surprised?”

The spluttering from Tredd caused them all to smile when he took the driver's seat and glared at Luche. “How rude. You mind pulling up a map for the nearest outpost while you roast me?”

Nodding, Luche gave him the directions. Keeping an eye on Kayden via the rearview mirror, he saw her nearly nod off a few times. Reaching behind his seat, he smiled in the mirror when she grabbed his hand. “We’ll be there before you know it. Stay awake till we get another potion in you all right?” Seeing her nod, he slumped in his seat.

The radio played quietly in the background. As the sun climbed int’s way into the sky, the exhaustion settled into their bones. Tredd pinched his hand periodically to keep away, taking the roads less traveled, if any even existed, to avoid people and cut their travel time down.

The news of the Kingsglaive's betrayal made him stop. They had all known, how could they not after what they’d seen. But it didn’t stop the news from hurting them. The entire world wouldn’t trust them now. It was enough to make them all shed their jackets after hearing the news.

Pulling into an outpost, Tredd turned the SUV off, letting it die, before finding enough gil between the three of them to get a few potions and a hotel room. Using a potion for himself, he passed two to Luche before climbing into the backseat and administering another two potions to Kayden. Their injuries no longer bleeding, the three climbed the stairs to their room in silence.

Horror, fear, pain, anger. They were drained of all energy. They barely spoke. Crying was unthinkable in the moment. There would be time for mourning later, when they each could muster the energy for it.

Stripping their blood soaked clothes off and tossing them over the shower railing, they looked at each other for a moment.

Before the men could speak up, Kayden laid down in the middle of the bed and motioned for them to join her. It wasn’t the first time they had all shared a sleeping space, and she doubted it’d be the last, even if it was a slightly tight fit on the king sized bed.

Resting her head against Luche’s shoulder, her arm over his stomach, and her other hand holding Tredds’, Kayden watched alongside them in silence as the sun rose. Luche held Tredd’s other hand as they curled around her protectively. Breaking the silence, Kayden spoke quietly. “What should we do when we wake up?”

Luche, clever as always, hummed in thought. “Survivors are most likely heading for Lestallum as we speak. Crowe, Nyx, and Libertus are probably escorting the Princess there now, and the Prince is heading for Altissia.”

“So, either of those places if we want to keep working,” Tredd added quietly. Looking over Luche and Kayden, he wondered if that was what they should do. He knew that Kayden wouldn’t stop fighting, and Luche wouldn’t stop planning, but sometimes he wished they would. Not that he would stop or leave them.

“My mom is in Altissia.” The quiet admission from Kayden shocked both men. They knew of Kaydens’ family, but she rarely talked about them unless asked directly.

Shaking his head Tredd gently squeezed her hand while Luche gently began running his fingers through her hair. “We’ll figure it out once we all can walk without stumbling again.”

Humming in agreement, the three closed their eyes as the sunlight washed over them, the warmth coaxing them into a deep sleep.

#my writing #glaiveweek2020 #glaiveweek #soldier on through it all - ffxv fic #this was 5 pages long #i had to cut myself off because it was getting so long #i hope it's alright i combined the prompts

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inmywiring-archive · 4 years

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Name: Sara Lance

Fandom: DC, Legends of Tomorrow

Canon or OC: Canon

Gender: Cis Woman

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Birthday: December 25th

Faceclaim: Caity Lotz

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Blue

Height: 5′ 6″

Powers: n/a

Skills: Martial Arts, Stick Fighting, Archery, FireArms

Languages: English, Mandarin, Arabic

Bio:

The youngest daughter of Quentin and Dinah Lance Sara was thought to have died on the Queen's Gambit, where she was having an affair with her sister's millionaire boyfriend Oliver Queen when it sunk. Sara was actually rescued by the crew of the Amazo, where she became a reluctant participant in Dr. Anthony Ivo's experiments, was later found and recruited by the League of Assassins. While training with the League she fell in love with Nyssa al Ghul and took the name "Ta-er al-Sahfer" (in Arabic: الطائر الأصفر), Arabic for Canary.

Returning to Starling City years later and reuniting with her family, she became the vigilante Canary. Eventually dying at the hands of Oliver's drugged sister Thea, was brought back from the dead without her soul, had it returned by a snarky Brit then attempted to live a life solitude.

Which didn't last long thanks to a visit from Rip Hunter in his time-traveling ship, the Waverider. Some adventures later and Sara now captains and moms in Rip's place while answering to the Time Bureau and her girlfriend, Ava.

Rules & Notes:

This Sara Lance is strictly Arrow Universe base, tho I'm happy to do crossover verses with DC Comics or DCEU characters.

I've watched Legends on and off since the show started airing, have recently finished all of season four, I'm working on season five, then plan on rewatching the whole series from the beginning to get fully caught up.

What I won't be doing is watching every episode of all the other Arrow Universe shows. If there's information or an interesting nugget between our characters, something useful or fun to use in threads, I'd love to hear about it.

Sara is a multi-ship muse I ship her with lots of characters both in canon and out.

Mains:

John Constantine/thenewcastlenincident

Ava Sharpe/cocaptainsharpe

Leonard Snart / coldestthief

#info post: sara #(yeah i skimmed over a lot arrow plus legends is a lot of seasons #mostly do these to cover the basic stuff #long post

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dragonwitchgaming · 5 years

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Across Space and Time- Chapter 5

Hay guys I want to wish you a good summer vacation! AST will be on hold while I'm on summer break but when school starts back up I will be releasing chapters 6, 7, and 8 (possibly chapter 9.)

As a reminder I mentioned in chapter 4 and the announcement that I will be starting a specialty series. Make sure you go check them out as well! Keep an eye out for further updates on AST.

Make sure that if you enjoy to like and comment!

2562 Words

GENRE: Fluff, Slight angst, crack

PAIRING: Levi X OC (platonic)

WARNINGS: none

masterlist

TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

Year 849, June 3rd

The wind whipped past me at starling speed as I flew past trees and used the blades of my sword to carve out a slice of the dummy titan’s neck. The feeling of the almost flying was exhilarating. Going back to a world that didn’t have that was almost unthinkable. Currently I was in the top ten ranks in training but just barely. I was ranked ninth. Although, it wasn’t always that way. One the first day of ODM gear flight training I hit my face on a branch and gave myself a concussion, nocked me down to twelfth.

I was now best friends with the odd trio. Eren and Armin treated me like a sister and Mikasa would watch out for me if I happened to be causing trouble with the brunet.

“You stole my kill!” Connie shouted in disdain. Giving me a sharp glare as we zipped though the forest side by side. Connie Springer, a 5 foot 2 inch, bald male that used to live in the Ragako village within wall Rose. His biggest motivation being his wish to make his family proud. He ranked 8th in our class and was damn good at what he did. He had become a good friend over the 2 years I had been here.

“Be faster then.” I japed playfully at his ego and sped up. The others of my class zipped by such as Eren and Jean Kirstein who seemed to be having a contest. Jean being a 5 foot 8 inch egotistical prick who lusted after Mikasa like a rabid dog.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a hidden 10 meter dummy titan. Hidden well enough that it wouldn’t be seen by anyone who had not been paying attention to the field itself, I had almost not even seen it. A mistake like that could get someone killed on the real field.

“Connie!” I called grabbing his attention. I pointed in the direction of the dummy clueing him. He nodded sharply.

“I’ll cover you!” he yelled over the howling wind, making a sharp right while I swung to my left avoiding an incoming tree with a narrow dodge. My body falling back to avoid the following branch. With the titans nape in sight I moved swiftly aiming for a deathly strike. Only the swivel motor turned the titan to face me with almost startling speed. Launching myself back and onto a higher tree branch to avoid what would have been my death if it were a real titan. This movement had left an opening to the unnoticed Connie, giving him all the time he needed to take the kill. He took the opening slicing the dummies nape landing on a branch to my right.

I looked to my left and noticed a different trail of titans then the ones we were assigned and deliberated on ‘taking them out’. Was it a different field training or was this a test. I stood on a branch not far from the most resent ‘kill’. “You think we should take them out?” I asked the bald boy.

“Wouldn’t there be an instructor there if we weren’t supposed to?” He shrugged.

“I suppose your right. alright lets go get em’” I cheered, launching myself forward taking down dummy after dummy with the help of Connie. The path had lead us to the rest of the group as they continued to push forward.

………

“Where were you?” demanded Eren curtly as he caught up with me.

“I had noticed a branch path and Connie and I took it. Don’t worry about it.” I sighed as I sliced through another dummy with precision.

As the last dummy was finished off and we made it back to the rendezvous we were ordered to gather in the plaza for evaluation. My score was relatively high but was defiantly outmatched by some of the others. I had come out with 15 solo “kills” with 7 assists.

“Cadets!” Instructor Shadis boomed from the small stage. “All of you have been put through a test to see if you can efficiently and affectively take out a titan! However, this was not just testing your ability to kill this was also a test of your observation skills. Which all but two of you failed to pass!” I looked over at Connie who gave me a look of ‘I told you so’.

I stuck out my tongue at him in spite. As Shadis continued his droning speech I looked to find Levi Smiling proudly at me. the amount he had changed was very little but it was enough for hi mama myself to be considered friends. He was still cold to everyone but he tended to smile a bit more then when I first met him. Well I had considered him like a friend but technically he was my “adoptive father” now. About a year and a half ago, to avoid government officials getting involved in my world hopping, Erwin had the raven adopt me and my story was that I came from the slums and had been orphaned during the attack on the outer wall. So legally Levi was my dad and he sure as hell acted like it. From making me clean or holding me to a higher slandered then the other cadets. It was all fine and good though. I knew he didn’t mean any harm.

“Dismissed!” the sharp command brought me from my thoughts violently. I walked over to Connie who smirked at me.

“Don’t even.” I sighed, shaking my head.

“Told you so.” He laughed, shoulders shaking. Shadis had approached us with that permanent scowl of his.

“Aurora Ackerman and Connie Springer, please report to my office after dinner.” Shadis barked at us. Oh, had I forgot to mention that my last name had been changed? Well not really changed, more or less in this world it was changed but really it was the same in mine. Man this was confusing.

“Sir!” We saluted at the same time. He turned and left stalking away in the direction of the main building.

“What was that about?” Eren asked as he joined us.

“Shadis wants to see us after dinner.” Connie explained. I scanned around the remaining cadets to find Mikasa and found her with one of the guards discussing god knows what.

“Don’t start falling for her. You know she only has eyes for Eren.” Armin’s voice startled me causing me to jump almost four feet in the air.

“Armin!” I snapped turning to the blond in blind fury. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” a red hue painting me cheeks.

“You were the one lost in your daydreams. I called your name so really I wasn’t sneaking.” He said throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“I wasn’t day dreaming!” I snapped.

“Really? So staring off in the distance while happening to be staring at your crush is totally not daydreaming.” He smirked.

“Sh-shut up!” I blushed harder. The embarrassment was agenizing as Armin continued to tease me mercilessly. “I don’t have a crush on her!”

“Could have fooled me.” He shrugged playfully.

“Who has a crush on who?” Levi’s voice sent chills down my spine as he decided to make an appearance at the worst time possible. His steely gray eyes boring into my green.

“No one has a crush on anyone!” I cried in embarrassment, turning away from the man to hid my blushing cheeks. Damn Armin to hell and back! Levi hummed in mock belief but said no more on the subject.

“Aurora, come with me please… there is something we need to discuss.” Levi’s emotion was undecipherable but it was evident whatever he needed to discuss was important. Everyone knew Levi had adopted me but none of them knew why. Some chalked it up to business matters, others suspected the Corporal had gone soft for an orphaned kid much like himself, but none knew the real reason. This made things a little trickier from time to time but it wasn’t too much for him to handle.

“You’re in trouble now Aura” Armin teased yet again. I elbowed him sharply in the ribs to silence him, and followed my adoptive father to his office. The path though the main building to his office was familure to the point I could probably walk to it in my sleep.

Once inside I took my usual spot on the couch that was seated on the left side of the room. His desk per usual was cluttered with unfinished paperwork; sat center about a third of the from the wall opposite the door. Bookshelves lined the right wall, filled to the brim with books on History, titans, and files on cadets.

“So what did you need me for dad?” I joked giving the glowering face a bright smile.

“Real funny Aura.” He sighed before sitting at his desk. He folded his hands on his desk and looked at me sternly.

“You said your mother’s maiden name was Jain Lee correct?” I vaguely remember about a year ago telling him about my family life back at home, excluding my father of course, I only mentioned he had died. For some reason he had not revealed at the time, he began doing some investigating after hearing my mothers name.

“Yes why?” I asked cautiously. Levi was usually never this serious around me if we where alone.

“Is this her?” he handed me a drawing like picture. The woman in the frame was gorgeous. She had long flowing hair that framed her soft jaw line. Perfect lips smiling brightly without a care in the world. Her thin and petite form clothed in the uniform of the Survey Corps. There was no logical way, however there was absolutely no denying she was in fact my mother.

“How…?” I trailed off in absolute shock and confusion.

“Her name is Jian An Lee, she was a Lance Corporal much like myself. I worked under her and Erwin in my earlier years in the Survey Corp. Until she disappeared and never came back when we went on a mission. We all thought she had been eaten by a titan.” Levi said with a sullen tone.

“But that’s without a doubt my mother. Yes she’s aged but I’ve seen…” I stopped. Remembering the box my mother used to keep locked in her closet. As a kid, I was only eight at the time, I had once got ahold of the key and looked inside. The memory came flashing back.

______

I snuck into my mom’s office, curious as to what was in the large brown box she kept locked and tucked away. Daddy always said is was a vary important secret so I would have to be sneaky.

Mom and Dad were outside working on the garden so now was the perfect opportunity. I quickly grabbed the key from her hidden drawer and rushed to the closet. Jamming the jagged and hardly used key into the lock twisting to the left sharply. The clock of it unlocking cueing me to open the box.

Inside was a bunch of things I couldn’t quite tell what they were. I first examined the clothing that was primarily tan and white. The jacket had a weird wing like symbol on the back and sleeves. Leather straps with buckles all over the place, and a brown skirt like piece with white pants. All of them dirtied with a dried blood stains. Next I looked at the metal pieces that seemed to have no purpose. Why would mom need this junk? I dug through the metal until I found a blade of some kind. It was sectioned into 6 segments. Nine more blades just like it sat at the bottom of the box. “I don’t understand? What is this stuff?” I questioned myself.

______

“What?” Levi cocked an eyebrow at my silence.

“When I was about eight years old, my mother had a large locked box in her office. I happened to sneak in while my mom and dad were busy outside and I found… I found ODM gear and a Survey Corps uniform inside.” I revealed. “I didn’t know what it was at the time and I wasn’t supposed to know what was inside because my mother forbid me to look, so I didn’t ask…” the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. “Dad was in on it too!” I gasped. “He knew! But grandma? How dose this make sense? My grandmother was born in my world? Her birth records and everything check out!” I racked my brain for any logical reason.

“I adopted you didn’t I? I’m sure that’s a thing in your world.” Levi sat forward, leaning onto his desk.

“Yes… it is… but wait my mother was born here right? My father was born in my world… there’s more to this then we first thought.” My mind was sent reeling at this new information. “I need to tell Erwin!” I quickly got up to go but my arm was caught by Levi’s firm grip.

“Relax Aura.” His voice calm and assertive, his eyes searching mine. “I’ll worry about Erwin. You sit.” He said pointing to the sofa. I obeyed his command and sat back down. He handed me a cup of cool tea and went back to his desk. “You can’t freak out like that. You’ll cause not only panic but suspicion. Your world hopping is to be kept under wraps at all costs.” He stated matter-of-factly.

Once calm I started to see the reasoning he gave. “Sorry. It’s not every day that you find your ancestry is from two different worlds.” I muttered. He huffed out a small laugh but didn’t answer.

“So you worked for my mom?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “If you think about it that’s kind of weird. Especially since your like my dad and all now.” I half joked. Levi rolled his eyes but answered no less.

“Yes, your just like her to. A smart ass that always makes snide and unnecessary remarks or jokes, always showing off, challenges authority, and is always going out of your way to tease me even though you know it only pisses me off.” He growled but there was no anger. There was a small smile on his face when he continued. “Although you both are very good at making friends with anyone and everyone, you look out for others, independent, talented, and you both are important people in my life. Her as a friend, and you as my daughter.”

“That’s it people! Corporal Levi Ackerman is soft!” I cried out in celebration, throwing my hands in the air and flying back into the couch.

“Damn it Aura! I try to be nice and this is what I get. I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He grumbled.

“Nah you love me to much.” I laughed as I got up and gave the salty man a hug. “It’s okay your my irreplaceable dad now.” I let him go and made to leave the office.

“I’ll look further into your mothers case, meanwhile don’t do anything stupid.” He warned me with a firm glare.

“Ya, ya, whatever ya big softy!” I waved without turning back and left to go to dinner.

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vegafiction · 6 years

Note

Please do “attempted rape” about Klance from Voltron (obviously:D) and if you don’t mind make Lance the one to suffer? I live for Langst

Anon: Could you please do Keith for attempted rape? And Lance comforting him, love your writing btw

Count: ~2kPairing: KlanceFandom: Voltron Legendary DefenderPrompt: Attempted RapeWarning(s): Cursing, Attempted Rape, mild torture, langst, alien OCs

Part II of “Made A Slave”

Remember when I said I’d make a continuation based on “Made a Slave” because of an Anon prompt? Yeah, this was it. The Keith request came in today so I decided to incorporate within one request. Sorry if it wasn’t what you were expecting, Anon! By the way, I made an error on the first prompt. The King’s name is supposedto be Lixvan not Delxian.

Get your own card @badthingshappenbingo

Keith’s nails bit into the fabric of his paladin uniform as he paced back and forth in the war room of the palace. It’d been two hours since King Lixvan had released a search party for Lance and another hour since they had arrived to the planet. And in those three hours, Keith had done nothing but stifle his anger and wear a path on the floor of the war room.“This is ridiculous, I should be out there looking for him!” He slammed a fist against the stone wall, a growl of frustration punctuating his words. “Lance is hurt and lost and what are we doing here? Waiting!”“We’ve been through this Keith,” Allura sighed. She sagged into her seat, as though drained by Keith’s emotions. She watched him wearily. “Expending all our energy combing the city would take too much time. We must at least attempt to relax.”“I know you’re worried about him,” Shiro interjected softly. “We all are, but you need to keep your cool. You’re not going to help Lance if you get yourself into trouble with the Magésti.”“I-I know that! It’s just…” He wracked his brain for the proper words, but only one stuck out. He leaned his weight against the wall for support, his heart hammering harshly in his chest. “I’m scared. I know he can handle himself but…”Shiro laid a comforting hand against his shoulder. “I know.”“We’ll find him,” Hunk stated. “We’re not leaving this planet until we do.”The others nodded their agreement. Keith felt the tension in his muscles loosen, appeased by their reassurance.

Lance’s screams reverberated across the chamber as Anphas crushed his hand beneath his boot. He rubbed his heel into his fingers until Lance’s screams cracked from the pressure. He cackled into the boy’s face, relishing the expression of agony that twisted Lance’s features.He shoved him aside, breathless from laughter.“Come now Lance, we’re only just beginning.”Anphas grabbed the boy’s ankles, skin bruised and bleeding from the ropes that had been tied around them, and pulled him closer until he was underneath him.Panic spilled across Lance’s face.“No, no, no!” He begged, voice rough and broken. “No, please, stop! Don’t do this—!”Anphas’s hand smacked over his mouth, muffling his cries. The Magéstan turned him over and leered into the younger boy’s face with an expression of pure mad delight.“You have such a pretty voice. I can’t wait to steal it away from you.”“Anphas!”Ezriel ripped the smaller male away from Lance and practically flung him to the wall. He crashed into a pile of supplies, knocking them over in a horrid display of noise and chaos.“The fuck, Ezriel?!” He screamed. “What are you doing?!”His partner growled in barely controlled rage. “Are you an idiot? He is a paladin of Voltron! His companions are in the palace.”“I told you to get rid of Zarax!”“He has been neutralized,” the blonde said gruffly. He turned his attention to Lance, who scrambled as far away as he could from the burly male.Lance huddled against the wall, careful not to let the cold stone touch the raw, agonizing mess that was his back but too terrified to care. His entire body trembled from fear, his skin clammy and soaked in a mixture of sweat and blood. He caught sight of Anphas unwillingly, who licked his lips.God, Lance wanted to puke.“Anphas, enough of this. The King requests our presence. You can play with your pet later.”Anphas scowled. “What does the little brat need me for?”“He knows we made a trip outside of the palace.”“Fine. But first,” Anphas fisted Lance’s shirt and lifted the Cuban boy to his height. A sinister smile marred his lips. “I’ll be back little lion. Try not to miss me too much, okay?” He thrust Lance aside roughly then exited the chamber.Ezriel pinched the bridge of his nose.Once they were gone, Lance hurried to the door. He pushed then pulled, but the heavy iron door would not move. He was locked inside.He pounded his fists against the door.“Keith! Shiro!” He rasped, his tears flowing. “Allura! Hunk…” He slide down the smooth surface, the scent of sweat, blood and metal invading his senses. “Pi-Pidge…” he hiccuped. “An-anyone…”Don’t leave me!He buried his face into his arms and sobbed.

Keith had never wanted to stab someone in the gut before they spoke until this very moment. Lotor came pretty close, but at least Keith had a reason back then. Anphas was different. He radiated an aura of such smug assholery that Keith seriously contemplated having an “accident” with the Blade of Mamora.The moment King Lixvan’s advisor walked into the room with his large, hulking companion, Keith hated him. He looked smug and greeted the King and the Paladin’s of Voltron with an air of such sarcasm—God, he just wanted to punch him.“Yes, your childishness? I mean, your highness?”King Lixvan’s childlike features furrowed into a regrettable frown. “Anphas, you and Ezriel made a trip to the outskirts of town about 4 hours ago. Did you find anything?”“Mostly grass and peasants.”“Did you happen to see anything fall from the sky?”Anphas stared at his sharp nails as though they were more fascinating than conversing with the King. “No, I don’t believe I did. The only things I saw was the decay of our good people under your leadership.”“Anphas, enough.” Ezriel hissed. “My apologies, Lord Lixvan. Has something happened?”“The Paladins of Voltron have lost a companion. I was hoping you two may have seen something?”Anphas shook his head. “Nope, we saw nothing.”Keith’s eyes narrowed. There was something about the guy he didn’t like. The way he openly mocked the King without fear, the way his mismatched eyes bounced between the rest of the paladins—something wasn’t right.Anphas’s stare landed on Keith. He sized the length of Keith’s whole body slowly before gazing into his eyes. He smiled.Something twisted sickeningly inside Keith.“Please keep an eye out,” Lixvan requested. “He could be injured.”It was barely noticeable, even the most observant of them could have missed it, but Keith saw the corners of Anphas’s lips twitch.“Of course, your majesty.” He bowed lavishly then exited the hall with his companion in tow.

Lance barely had any strength to move, but the loud click of the iron door unlocking sent a wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He bolted from the door to the nearest hiding place and crouched behind the clutter of junk.Anphas slipped into the room, giggling gleefully to himself. His laughter died the moment he scanned the room.“Oh dear, where has the little lion gone?” Anphas made a show of investigating the torture chamber.Ezriel watched him, unamused by his partner’s theatrics, but Lance held his breath. He desperately eyed the open door. The blonde stood in his path, but not enough to block him completely. If he was lucky, maybe he could sneak away?Before Lance could concoct a plan, he was yanked out of the shadows and tossed to the ground. Terror immediately sized control. He made a break for the for the door.“Ezriel!”The robust blonde smacked Lance in the face. The force knocked the wind out of his lungs and he collapsed to the ground wheezing. He heard the dreaded screech of the iron door closing in front of him, a visual representation of his only means of escape vanishing for good. He couldn’t stop his tears from flowing.Anphas was on him in seconds.“Thought you could run away, hm? That’s too bad.” He leered over Lance’s figure, his expression utterly insane. “Let’s play~”Lance tried to fight. He was weak from the loss of blood, exhausted from the whirlwind of pain and emotion; Anphas shredded the remainder of his clothes and pulled him close. He pinned the Cuban boy’s arms above his head then grinned.“Put on a good show for Ezzie, okay?”

He slipped his free hand between Lance’s legs.Lance screamed.Without warning, the iron door burst open.Ezriel charged into Anphas before their unexpected guest could and ripped him away from Lance’s vicinity. The younger Magéstan screamed in outrage; Ezriel whipped out his own sword from a place Lance had not seen and held it out against the interloper.It took Lance a moment to regain his senses. He stared into the angry, determined face of Keith, who held his sword drawn against Ezriel and Anphas.“I knew you were hiding something, you bastard.” Keith hissed. “What were you doing to him?!”Lance scrambled to Keith’s side, his words a jumbled mess as large, fat tears poured profusely from his eyes. Keith immediately knelt to his side. He kept his weapon pointed to his enemies, but the harshness of his gaze morphed into anxious concern for Lance’s well-being.Anphas suddenly chuckled.“I see what’s happening here. You’re his lover, aren’t you?” Keith turned sharp eyes to him, a dangerous growl rumbling in his throat. “Fair enough. I’ll share. Ezriel.”Ezriel zoomed into them before either boy could react. His large palm collided with Keith’s face, his fingers framed across his head until all Keith could see what the older man’s hand. The contact barely lasted a second. Keith swung his sword instinctively but Ezriel’s hulking mass was gone and so was Anphas.“What did they do?” Lance rasped. His long fingers gently grasped onto Keith’s face, wet, blue eyes anxiously scanning him for visible injuries, but he saw nothing.“Lance,” Keith sighed. “Oh my god, Lance.”Lance buried himself into Keith’s chest, his whole body trembling again. Tears poured from his eyes as he sobbed, comforted by Keith’s warm embrace.Keith held him close, wary of the ruined skin marring Lance’s back, but it felt good to have him in his arms again. Lance’s warmth, his sweat, his blood—Keith’s mind fogged. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck and inhaled.Lance stiffened.“K-Keith?” He squeaked.“Lance,” Keith breathed. He held the boy tighter, oblivious to the wide-eyed terror dawning Lance’s face.He tried to pull away. “No, Keith, wait! Something’s wrong—what did they—“Keith shoved Lance to the ground face first. Something seemed inherently wrong with his actions, but a part of mind couldn’t piece what was so out of place.Lance struggled against him, begging him to snap out of it. He clawed the ground in a desperate attempt to escape but just like Anphas, Keith pinned him down.Suddenly, Keith felt his paladin armor was a hindrance. Here was Lance, ready and primed for the taking and he was still fully clothed. It was despicable. Keith ripped the black fabric of his paladin suit with the edge of his dagger. “KEITH, STOP! PLEASE!”Something snapped in his mind. Keith lurched away from Lance, his dagger flying loosely from his grip. It clattered noisily against the stone floor between him and Lance. They stared at each other with wide horrified eyes until, finally, it sunk into Keith’s mind.“Lance, I—“ His voice died in his throat. Guilt, terror, rage, and panic formed inside his chest like a hurricane. “Oh god, Lance, I…!”“I know,” Lance hiccuped. “I know.”With great effort, Lance closed the distance between them and pulled Keith into his arms. His hands trembled as he smoothed down Keith’s hair in an effort to comfort him.“Y-you weren’t yourself. You didn’t mean it.” Lance whispered. “I-I know. I know.”Keith peeled himself away from the quivering paladin. He pressed their foreheads together, thumbs gently caressing Lance’s wet cheeks.“Stop it. I’m here now. I’m here.”Lance broke down for the third time that day. He buried his face into Keith’s chest and cried out his sorrows. Keith held him gently. He stared aimlessly at the ground, the hurricane of rage and guilt settling for the moment.

#nada writes #langst #klance #lance voltron #keith voltron #vld lance #vld keith #tw: attempted rape #badthingshappenbingo #vld #anonymous #long post

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caffeinewritingsandthings · 6 years

Text

Darwinism

Pairing: Bellamy X Athena (OC)

Word Count: 2,947

Summary: Growing up in Arrow Station you either had to be skilled and picked up by the trades, or ‘resourceful’ if you wanted to get by. Athena Hammond was as resourceful as they came until she was doublecrossed. Landed on a planet once called ‘home’ she has to think on her feet if she want’s to survive.

A/N: I have about 15k written of this already and it’s been a while since I have run a writing blog. My ‘Stranger Things’ blog is very sad right now, but I really like this so why not share. I chose to do this with an OC vs. reader because I have really been working on character development. Please like, Reblog, and let me know what you think!

Part 1 Part 2

The hallways leading into B-dock of Alpha Station were abnormally busy for it being 3 in the morning. Athena Hammond held her breath, pressing herself even tighter against the wall as a heavy set of footsteps slowly approached her location. Her heart stuttered in her chest as the steps came to a stop, green eyes locking on the long shadow that revealed the guard that stood only a few feet from her.

“Crews, you see anything?” A voice called out from further down the hall and Athena swallowed hard. “Crews!”

“No, nothing. Probably just the fans kicking on. Let’s go.” The shadow retreated in the opposite direction but Athena didn’t dare breath until the heavy footfalls had completely faded. Once they did she wheezed out a ragged breath, letting her head fall back against the wall she brought a hand up to her still rapidly beating heart. That was too close for comfort. Taking a couple steadying breaths Athena steeled her resolve, moving from her spot against the wall and once more continuing on her mission to the Exodus ship on B-dock with a new sense of caution.

Patrols at this hour, in this part of the Ark were uncommon and Athena’s gut twisted uncomfortably, her lips tugging into a frown. From the moment Nygel summoned her a few days prior, she had an ominous feeling that hung over her like a dark cloud. At the time she had ignored it, chalking it up to nerves and she assumed that once the job was underway she would shake it off like always. However, the closer she got to her end goal, the more the feeling nagged at the back of her mind that something was very wrong.

Pausing at the end of the corridor Athena hugged the wall, listening intently before peeking around the corner. Her sharp green eyes swept the length of the adjoining hallway and once satisfied that it was clear she crept forward, throwing a glance over her shoulder. Continuing on her way she took care to keep her footfalls as quiet as possible, ears straining against the gentle hum of the Ark for anything that would signal another person heading in her direction. Relief flooded her as the sign for B-dock came into view. Jogging the last couple of paces she pulled out the black market key card that Nygel had supplied her for this exact purpose. She held her breath as she pressed it to the keypad, praying that it worked as it was supposed to. With a hiss, the doors slid open and Athena couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Extra patrols be damned everything was going according to plan.

B dock was dark, which suited Athena just fine as it meant that it was empty. Pulling a small flashlight from her pocket she clicked it on, stepping through the doors which slid shut behind her. She made quick work of finding the Exodus ship that was her target, the metal ramp left open with boxes of what looked to be clothing stacked at the end of it. Stepping aboard the metal ship her small beam swept the inside before landing on the slim metal box that was the communications panel.

“Bingo,” she sang. As she moved to take a step forward she paused, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Spinning around she scanned the darkness, trying to swallow down the sudden feeling of paranoia. The only sound was the steady hum of machinery, and after a minute Athena shook her head.

“Open the comm panel, insert the transmitter, close the panel, get out and get paid. Easy peasy, don’t wuss out now.” Athena scolded herself stepping deeper into the drop shop. “I just wish I knew why I’m risking my life to spy on a ship that isn’t going to be used for another 100 years, but whatever.” She channeled her nerves into bitter sarcasm, still annoyed that Nygel wouldn’t even give her the slightest hint as to why she wanted the transmitter planted. Stooping down she held the light between her teeth before making quick work of popping the panel door and splicing the wires that fed communications from the smaller ship back to the Ark. Pulling her own transmitter from her pocket she fed the 3rd party device into the system, securing the communication feed for her employer. Happy that the transmitter was securely and properly installed she replaced the panel door and pulled her light from between her teeth.

A soft scuff sent a bolt of adrenaline through her system and Athena leaped to her feet, turning to face the entrance of the ship. A sharp crack against her right temple caused her to see stars, body slumping to the ground as her brain recoiled from the shock. Her flashlight clattered from her grasp, casting heavy shadows against the form of her assailant, making it even harder for her already cloudy vision to make out their face.

“Wha…” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton, unable to form words much like her mind couldn’t put together a coherent thought.

“Sorry about this ‘Nia, it’s nothing personal. I wanted to keep you around, but you ask too many questions and you know how Nygel feels about loose ends.” The voice was familiar, but try as she might she couldn’t place it. A loud roar had settled in her ears, muting and distorting the words into something unrecognizable. Black spots were quickly filling the corners of her vision and Athena desperately tried to hold onto consciousness. A voice in the back of her head warned that if she blacked out now she may never wake up, but the blow to her head had been too severe and seconds later her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, as her whole world faded to black.

A soft groan roused Athena from the depths of unconsciousness. Her whole body ached like the time she took a shock baton to the shoulder, and there was a dull pounding coming from the side of her head. Carefully, her hand reached up, fingers gently probing the area. A sharp lance of pain accompanied the action and she recoiled with a hiss.

“Ow,” she moaned softly. Her memories were hazy, full of blank spaces that made her head pound harder when she tried to fill them. It didn’t take her long to piece together the pieces she could remember and figure out that she had been double-crossed by Nygel. Athena wished she could say she was surprised, but Nygel was known for being a snake. It was a risk you took when conducting business with her.

Her eyes felt heavier than they ever did before, and opening them took much more effort than it should have. When she was finally able to pry them open it took several moments for her green orbs to focus. Wherever she was it was dark, small slivers of light cutting through slats above her revealing the claustrophobic space she was in. She reasoned she was underneath a floor panel of some sort, which meant she hadn’t been turned into the guard…yet. Her mind struggled to figure out why they wouldn’t immediately turn her in to float, but she drew a blank. Another thought was nagging at the back of her mind, sending off warning bells. She closed her eyes, trying to sort through the jumbled mess that was her brain and figure out what was vying for her attention.

It took a moment, but once the ringing in her ears died down she noticed it almost instantly. No machine hum. Spending all 22 years of her short life on the Ark, Athena had grown used to the soft hum that was always present on the large spacecraft. When she was younger it used to act as a lullaby, familiar and constant. As she grew older though, the soft whirring of machinery turned into a reminder of the prison that she was living in.

Her eyes sprang open as she came to the realization that there was, in fact, no perceivable hum. Her heart rate skyrocketed, hands reaching up to press against the slatted floor above her. The metal held in place and she tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat, something wasn’t right and she needed to get out, now. She just needed to get back to their small family home on Arrow Station; then she could regroup and figure out the plan from there.

With renewed vigor, she once again tried to push up on the metal grates holding her captive, to no avail. Frustration and panic were bubbling up as the space she was in seemed to get tighter and tighter the longer she was stuck in it. Athena had never considered herself a very claustrophobic person, growing up in the sterile hallways and small rooms of The Ark led itself to be used to cramped spaces but the alarm bells in her head continued to ring making her plight seem all the more dire.

Heavy footsteps paused her struggle, and she tried to peer through the small spaces in the metal floor to see who was now in the dropship. The way the light filtered in behind them combined with the awkward angle she was at made it impossible to see their face or any distinguishing features. They muttered softly to themselves, though not loud enough for Athena to make out any words, she was able to deduce they were definitely male.

Her initial instinct was to call out to them, seek assistance in her predicament. However, that thought was quickly squashed by another more pressing one. This area of The Ark was expressly forbidden to those without proper clearance. Athena was most definitely not authorized by the proper channels to be here, and if those in power found out she could be floated. The thought caused her heart to twist painfully, a small spike of fear settling into her gut. People had been floated for a hell of a lot less, The Ark wasn’t known for its compassion.

With this thought in mind, Athena found herself holding her breath, afraid that the newcomer would find her and turn her into the proper authorities. She tried to come up with some sort of excuse, anything that could explain why she was trespassing. For a brief moment, she entertained the idea of offering a trade for her life. Nygel was a known kingpin in the black market aboard the station. Marcus Kane, a member of the council, had been butting heads with her for years; She was too smart for him though, never leaving anything that could be traced back to her. The thought was gone almost as soon as it came. There was a reason Nygel was the only name in the business, she was dangerous. Odds were nothing Athena could say would lead to her arrest, and what’s worse if Nygel even caught wind that she had been thrown under the bus Athena’s family would be in danger. No, a trade was not an option. She would need to figure this one out on her own.

By now the person above was clearly frustrated. Their muttering had slowly risen in volume, with an occasional curse thrown in. A large metal bang startled Athena causing a yelp to fly from her lips before she could stop it. Her hands flew to her mouth but it was too late. All movement stilled for a moment before the footsteps slowly crept in her direction. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, she was sure that at any moment it would burst from her ribcage. The steps paused above her before there was a grunt of effort and the metal above her swung open. Her heart sunk, tears pooling in her eyes as she stared back at the shocked face above her. Being from Arrow station Athena wasn’t on a first name basis with many in power, but she would know Chancellor Jaha’s son anywhere.

Wells Jaha stared down at the girl in the floor in surprise. After his initial trek on the ground, he had doubled back to the dropship in order to check on the status of their communications. His hopes of making contact with The Ark and his father were quickly dashed when he laid eyes on the sparking, charred radio. Regardless he tried to salvage some of the electrical wiring, only to be met with a volley of sparks. Cursing he had knocked the whole comm link over, his frustrations getting the better of him. A small yelp then broke him out of his thoughts and alerted him to the presence of another person in what he thought was a previously unoccupied dropship. After a quick sweep of the main level, he deduced the noise to be coming from the small hatch in the floor that had been zip tied shut.

He now stared down at watery green eyes, as the girl in the floor peered back up at him. Deep purple bruising crawled out of the right side of her hairline, coming to stop along the edge of her temple. Her lips trembled, mouth opening and closing as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t. He moved to reach for her and her whole body came alive, recoiling further beneath the floor.

“Pleasedon’tfloatme!” It took a moment for either of them to understand the rushed together words that fell from her lips. When they did register what she had said a heavy frown marred the young man’s face and the previously held back tears cascaded down Athena’s cheeks. “Please,” she whimpered again “I was just- I didn’t-I didn’t do anything!” Athena was painfully aware that her explanations were less of an explanation and more of a plea, but she figured at this point it really didn’t matter.

Wells once more reached out towards her, his face crumpling into an expression of defeat as she once again flinched away from him. “It’s alright, no one is going to float you. Just take my hand.” She stared cautiously at the outstretched appendage as if at any moment it would lash out and strike her, but it never did. After a long moment and one last glance up at the small smile Wells offered her Athena took it.

With his help, she was quickly pulled out from the hatch and set on her feet. Once upright the pounding in Athena’s head seemed to increase tenfold and a wave of dizziness crashed over her. Wells let out a surprised noise as she lurched forward, eyes rolling back up and into her head. His arms quickly wrapped around her waist, attempting to slow her descent to the ground. He didn’t bother trying to set her back on her feet, instead carefully lowering her to the floor until she was flat on her back.

Athena clenched her eyes shut tightly as her world seemed to twist and turn violently, nostrils flaring as she sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm the feelings of nausea that weighed heavily on her stomach.

“Woah there, take it easy” Wells’ hands hovered over the girl, his brow furrowed in thought. Judging by the bruising on her face and the goose egg on her skull he was pretty sure she had at the very least a minor concussion, though medical knowledge was not his forte. “Wait here, I’ll be right back O.K?” His only response was a very slight nod, Athena not trusting herself to speak at the moment.

She listened as his heavy step’s faded away before cracking her eyes open once again. The light caused the ache behind her eyes to throb painfully but she ignored it, survival instinct kicking in. This may be her only chance to escape before he came back with reinforcements and she planned on not wasting it. She moved to get to her feet only for her world to swim once again. Her hand clapped to her mouth as what was left of the previous night’s meager rations threated to resurface. Whoever had hit her definitely didn’t pull their punches.

Sucking in a couple deep breaths she pushed herself to a standing position, leaning heavily against the wall of the ship to try and steady herself. With every movement, the pounding in her head grew, but that would be the least of her problems if she was still here when Jaha Junior returned. With that thought at the forefront of her mind she pushed off the wall, turning on her heel and steeling her resolve to make a run for it.

The sight before her stopped her dead in her tracks. Her heart seemed to stutter to a halt and her breath caught in her throat. Her mind raced to come to a conclusion, something that could explain the roller coaster of events that she had been tossed on, but it came up blank. The previous silence was replaced with a roaring in her ears so loud that she didn’t hear Wells as he returned to the ship, a girl with long blond hair hot on his heels. Once more a wave of vertigo knocked her off her feet but she didn’t even bother trying to stop her descent, too preoccupied with the vision before her. Even as her body crumpled back to the metal floor of the dropship and black spots blurred at the corners of her eyes she didn’t dare look away. The last thing she saw before her whole world returned to black was the clearest blue she had ever seen.

#bellamy x oc #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake fanfiction #caffienewritingsandthingsfanfics #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy x reader #bellamy x imagine #bellamy blake x imagine #the 100 imagine #darwinism series #ocappreciation

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uniquemekylieb · 6 years

Note

You already know what mf time it is girl. Know your OC, 1-60, goooooooo~

I knew this was coming. I knew and I still wasn’t prepared for how long it is TuT I’m assuming it’s the FFXV, as well, since we’re on that train~Under a read more cause.. it’s long..

1: What’s your OCs favorite color?

~~ Kylia doesn’t really have a favorite color; she enjoys pretty much all of them. However, she is drawn more frequently to darker colors, such as charcoal grey, navy, maroons. If she absolutely had to pick, it would be a midnight blue shade.

2: Where does your OC work?

~~ Work??? She doesn’t exactly work too much, seeing as she’s the crown Princess of Lucis. However, locations would be the Citadel or the palace most often.

3: What’s your OCs favorite food?

~~ She absolutely adores spicy foods over most others. A close second would be creamier pasta dishes such as Caem Shrimp Scampi or Creamy Cockatrice over Angel Hair. In general she really enjoys food, but those things she prefers the most.

4: Does your OC prefer paper or plastic?

~~ She will always choose paper over plastic if given the option, as she’s very passionate about environmental efforts.

Bonus: She checks all the packaging and product labels for things she uses to make sure she recycles what she can. She is currently in the middle of establishing an environmental program to keep Lucis and its coastlines clean.

5: How old is your OC?

~~ Pre-fall, she is 19 years old, just on the edge of turning 20. She was conceived not long after Noctis was born; if someone didn’t know her, they would think she was older by how mature she is for her age.

6: Does your OC have any supernatural powers?

~~ She can do everything like her brother: warp ability (though she’s still working on it; currently it makes her feel a bit sick after six or seven attempts), weapon summoning (though she never uses it outside of training), and the ability to wear the Ring of the Lucii. However, while she can wear it without any harm to herself, she isn’t able to harness its power. Whether she will with time is unknown.

7: Is your OC in a relationship?

~~ By normal standards, no. However, she is arranged to be married to the Prince of Tenebrae, Ravus Nox Fleuret. She has no negative feelings on the matter, and is actually somewhat pleased and happy to be marrying the Prince (it makes it easier that they already know eachother, she muses). While she wouldn’t have planned that for herself, she is still content with the decision.

Another bonus: When she was 16, she had a secret and brief (as in 7 months) long relationship with Nyx Ulric [this is based on the common headcannon that during Kingsglaive Nyx is about 25 or 26]. The whole thing was rather fast, but they both felt very passionately for each other. They ended it, though, for a few different reasons, but still remain very close friends to this day.

8: What are some of your OCs strengths?

~~ Though she may not look it, for her stature she is rather strong (all of her training has paid off greatly). She is rather fast, and she is quite good at hiding in places. She has an excellent long-term memory, recalling things in the distant past with ease. She considers herself to be very skilled with her lance and circle blades, but she wishes to one day wield a sword. She has excellent natural handwriting, but she doesn’t really see it. She has quick wit and is kind to a fault, causing her to be a very forgiving and trusting individual.

9: What are some of your OCs weaknesses?

~~ Many of her strengths are some her biggest weaknesses as well; she was raised very sheltered, so she hasn’t had many of the experiences other people her age have had. While her long-term memory is impeccable, her short-term memory is…. well, not. She is quite stubborn, and has a tendency to act without thinking in times of great emotional stress. She doesn’t have the best control of her emotions. Like her brother, she can forget who is she is to the people of Lucis, acting much unlike a princess at times, often doing things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at (but when you’re the princess, sometimes that shit doesn’t fly). While she is stupidly kind and generous, she does have her moments of disdain, bringing out her sharp tongue and sarcastic behavior. Her forgiving and trusting nature can make her be taken advantage of. She has social and generalized anxiety, which she tries to keep hidden and taken care of [the only people who know are her father, Trinity, Noctis, Nyx, and Ignis]. She is ridiculously hopeless around men she finds attractive; she becomes a blabbering, blushing mess and has once or twice had miniature fainting spells from not being able to handle herself around them *cue Ignis anywhere near her*

10: What is your OCs favorite outfit?

~~ When she isn’t dressed in lavish ball gowns and formal business wear for meeting various dignitaries, she enjoys wearing whatever either makes her most comfortable or feel good and confident. So that’s either loungewear or a long ombre dress, which many common people would almost call a formal gown.

11: What animal does your OC relate to?

~~ Kylia is an avid animal lover (minus most rodents), but has never really tried or thought about what her spirit animal would be, though many around her have likened her to a doe.

12: Is your OC sexually active?

~~ Depends what you consider sexually active. Is it with another person? No. By herself? Sometimes. She has very little experience with sex, as she was raised very sheltered and taught to save herself for her future husband. She knows the basics of it, and how to stay safe (all from books that Trinity [ @trinitythatcher ‘s OC] lent her), but she has never had any intercourse with anyone, her virginity still in tact. The most that has ever happened with her has been hands and fingers.

Another another bonus (mentions of NSFW): While she has thus far saved herself for marriage, she personally wouldn’t mind if she lost her V-card to someone she truly loved, and who she was sure loved her back. Back when her and Nyx were dating, the furthest they got was him fingering her and blessing her with those magical digits of his, his hand just slipping into her panties beneath her dress on her 17th birthday, to which she eagerly returned with a handjob. That was her very first orgasm, and she was and still is very grateful to him for coaxing her through it with gentle words and kisses.

13: What is your OCs earliest memory?

~~ Her and Noctis’ mother died when she was 5 years old. Despite her dying with Kylia so young, Kylia has a very vivid memory of her mother brushing her hair and humming gentle melodies while Noctis and her colored on her bed. She often dreams of this memory, which always results in her waking up in a good mood.

14: Does your OC have a cell phone? If so, what kind?

~~ She does have a cell phone; it is just like Noctis’, or rather Noctis’ is just like hers, seeing as he got it ‘coincidentally’ not long after she got hers. The only person she ever calls on it is Noctis and her father, due to her anxiety about calling people. Everyone else she texts.

15: What makes your OC angry?

~~ There are actually quite a lot of things, but what gets to her the most is injustice/unfairness. She values the facts and the truth of things, and will not let things rest until they’ve been sorted out properly. This is especially true when it comes to her people. Many of her politics and foreign matters tutors have had to listen to her rant about fictional scenarios of politics in their lessons. They say that if she were not the Princess, she wouldn’t be out of place as a lawyer.

16: When is your OCs favorite time of year?

~~ Kylia loves autumn; she loves the color changing of the leaves, she loves the cold nippiness in the air, she loves the rainy days, the warm baked goods, the comfy clothes. She loves all of it.

17: How long can your OC hold their breath?

~~ 33 seconds on the dot.

18: What kind of underwear does your OC wear?

~~ This girl wears a lot of different kinds of underwear depending on her mood. More often than not, she wears the hipster kind for everyday, but best believe there’s some cute ass print or some frills somewhere on them. She likes briefs for when she’s just chilling, and has eight different sets of lingerie for special occasions.

19: Does your OC prefer plaid or polka dots?

~~ She likes both depending on where they’re at.

20: What’s your OCs favorite kind of pizza?

~~ When she can have one, she likes her pizza a certain way: grilled chicken, green bell peppers, and extra cheese, regular crust. She is a crust girl through and through, and will eat anyone else’s that they don’t want.

21: Who is your OCs best friend?

~~ Without a doubt, it will always be her advisor, Trinity Lasitene. They have been close throughout most of her life, and have confided in each other their deepest and darkest thoughts and secrets. There is no one who could ever take her place. If she was forced to choose someone else, it would be either her brother, Noctis, or Nyx, with Lunafreya not far behind.

22: Has your OC ever killed someone?

~~ Has she— that’s hilarious. She’s the Princess of Lucis. Let that answer the question. Hint: never.

23: Whats your OCs biggest secret?

~~ She has two, the first and not as big being that she has quite the attraction to her brother’s advisor, a mister Ignis Scientia. It isn’t her absolute biggest secret, as quite a lot of the staff can tell that she fancies him if they are ever near one another. However, her biggest secret is her secret relationship with Nyx those years ago. The only people who know are her, Nyx, and Trinity. Nobody else.

24: What does your OC smell like?

~~ Like crisp apples and jasmine, somehow fruity, sweet, and floral all at once. As long as she likes the scent, she will wear it, but that seems to be her regular smell.

25: What time of year does your OC prefer?

~~ There isn’t any particular part of the year she prefers; she just knows she doesn’t like June to August.

26: Is your OC a human or an animal? (or something else idk)

~~ A human, of course.

27: What languages does your OC speak?

~~ She can speak a few languages, seeing as she has been tutored in such. She can speak LSL (Lucian Sign Language), TSL (Tenebraen Sign Language), regular Lucian, and Galahdian.

28: Does your OC like anime?

~~ Though she doesn’t have a whole lot of time to devote to it, she is a fan of it, and has some merchandise from her absolute favorites. She likes being able to escape her day to day life every once in a while through it. There have been several occurrences of her and Trinity having anime night and pajama parties.

29: Can your OC swim?

~~ Yes, and rather well, at that. However, she prefers floating on her back and looking up at the sky.

30: What does your OC choose to do about the, er, hair down there?

~~ Considering she has no one she needs to impress with it, she doesn’t do a whole lot with it. She trims and gets a regular bikini wax from Trinity, but no more than that.

31: Does your OC believe in fairies?

~~ Amazingly, not really. She’ll visit the idea every now and then, but overall she doesn’t have a strong belief in them.

32: Did your OC go to college? What did they major in?

~~ She wasn’t allowed to go to public school with her brother, thus leading her to be tutored at the Citadel by the best. Quite a few of her lessons have been held at the Lucis Royal Academy, and she makes excellent grades. She is only two months away from graduating with top marks.

33: Are your OCs parents dead?

~~ Her mother passed away when she was 5 years old. Poor Papa Regis doesn’t have much longer though…

34: Is your OC religious?

~~ Yes, but she is also quite spiritual and isn’t very devout in her religion. Being royalty, she does have more reason than others to believe in the Gods, and she prays to them once or twice a week, but she doesn’t rely wholeheartedly on them as others do.

35: How flexible is your OC?

~~ She is rather flexible given the build of her body. She enjoys stretching it out in the morning, and her flexibility isn’t something to laugh at.

36: What turns your OC on?

~~ *Light touches along her sensitive spots (most especially on the back of her shoulders and neck. Really any light touching along her back, and crook of her elbows.) *Kissing and nibbling along her ears (whispering some lewd things never hurt.) *Passionate touches and kisses *A nice back and forearms *A lot of things really; she’s quite a sensual creature despite her lack of experience.

37: What was your OCs first word?

~~ Regis says that it was “Dada” (I mean, it was her third word, behind “Mama”), but in reality her first word was “Nock” (as in “Noctis”)

38: Does your OC have any pets?

~~ No, but she’s desperately wanted a dog for a long time since meeting Pryna and Umbra. They almost serve as placeholder dogs, but she does wish for one of her own.

39: Who is your OCs biggest enemy?

~~ Knowingly, she doesn’t have any. She can’t think of one, and honestly, it’s better that way. Really, though, anyone who hates or defies the crown is her enemy, as she is part of the crown itself.

40: What is the craziest thing your OC has done?

~~ Have a secret relationship with a Kingsglaive She’s skinny-dipped in the pool at night several times before, and has really enjoyed it. She wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, as long as she knows she won’t be caught. (Nyx has acutally caught her once before, but he hasn’t said a word about it to anyone; he just simply smiled and went along his merry way.)

41: What is your OCs motto about life?

~~ She hasn’t found one that speaks to her just yet, but one she cherishes and keeps close to her heart and mind is:“You don’t have to live forever; you just have to live.”

42: Does your OC drink coffee or tea?

~~ Kylia prefers to drink tea, especially at night before bed. However, she takes interest in coffee due to Ignis’ love of Ebony, and recently tried cafe au lait and enjoyed it thoroughly, although Trinity wasn’t so pleased. She has a hint of a feeling that Trinity and Ignis have made it a game between them to see who’s side her Highness leans towards that day.

43: Who is your OCs biggest hero?

~~ Though it may sound a little cheesy and typical, it is 100% true. Her biggest hero is her father, King Regis himself. She admires how steadfast he is for his people, how brave and kind and generous he is, and how loving and loyal he is to her and Noctis. She has always been a daddy’s girl.

44: What color eyes does your OC have?

~~ She has cool hazel eyes that lean a bit more green, similar to her father’s. When they catch the sunlight, though, the color is as if a peridot and a topaz combined into one.

45: Does your OC like reading?

~~ Kylia has quite the extensive library, ranging from educational novels to her own personal favorites. One of her favorites is a book of John Keats works, as she is quite the hopeless romantic.

46: Is your OC loyal?

~~Fiercely so. She remains loyal those she holds dear and loves endlessly, which includes her family and friends. If she ever has a lover, she will not stray from them. Of course, she is steadfastly loyal to her people.

47: Does your OC tolerate violence?

~~ She really doesn’t like it, no, but from her viewpoint, she’s only had violence coming at her from people she doesn’t know, whether they dislike the crown or are foreign enemies. Therefore you can only expect her to not like it very much.

48: What social class is your OC from?

~~ I mean… she’s the Crown Princess of Lucis.

49: What country was your OC born in?

~~ …Lucis

50: Does your OC cry easily?

~~ Not terribly easy, but it doesn’t take a ton either. When she’s under heavy emotional or mental stress, she can crumble quiet easily, and she’ll hold in her emotions a lot, but on an average day, she doesn’t cry too easily. (Show her something she deems ridiculously cute and she will definitely head in that direction.)

51: What is your OCs favorite genre of music?

~~She enjoys all sorts of music, and she deems herself to be a music nerd as she is constantly getting more and more of it every couple days. The only genre she doesn’t care for too much is rap.

52: How does your OC feel about insects?

~~She doesn’t mind them, but if they’re bigger than she deems normal then they’ve got to go. (She’ll normally call Trinity for this.)

53: What is your OCs sexual orientation?

~~ She considers herself to be polyamorous and straight, but she has had a few fleeting thoughts about a couple of the female Glaives and/or Crownsguard.

54: Does your OC smoke?

~~ No. She never has, and never will.

55: What gender is your OC?

~~ She presents herself as female.

56: What kind of clothes does your OC wear?

~~ Kylia’s wardrobe ranges from extravagant ballgowns to day dresses to sweatpants; it all depends on what she has to/wants to wear that day.

57: Would you call your OC adventurous?

~~ Yes; she has more than a few times snuck out of the gardens when she was younger, wanting to explore outside of the palace. This caused massive searches for the young princess, ending with stern talking to’s. She still has that adventurous and curious spirit; now she knows she only needs to ask.

58: Is your OC introverted or extroverted?

~~ She is a mixture of both; while she enjoys spending time with her friends and enjoying social events and the such, the introvert in her will, at some point, yell at her to get away and be alone for a while.

59: What is the first thing that someone would notice about your OC?

~~ That… she’s the Crown Princess. Aside from status, her hair is impeccably shiny and soft, so perhaps that.

60: Does your OC enjoy nature?

~~ She likes the view of nature plenty, but when it comes to being in nature, she prefers her visits to be somewhat short, unless there’s somewhere kept and nice nearby that she can retreat to at the end of the day.

#personal #ffxv #ff15 #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amiticia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #favorite

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keiths-stupid-mullet · 7 years

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Do you have recommendations for a Klance slowburn fic? (Doesn't really matter if it's an AU)

Friend f r i e n d it’s been ages since I actually got to sit down and read a fic but I’ve read lots of them in the past so you definitely came to the right person :P (I actually wrote one of my own; it’s called Magic Me Some Love and is about Galra!Keith/Magician!Lance in a medieval fantasy setting, if you’re into that.)

Now. Slow burn klance fics that aren’t on pretty much every fic rec list out there already with a minimum of either 60k words or that are unfinished still:

Ignorance Is Bliss by YouAreInAComaWakeUp

As it turns out, learning that your house is haunted makes the ghosts a lot more aggressive. Who knew?Ah, well. At least one of them is hot. And he’s the less-evil one, too, so that’s always a plus.

>> R E A D I T IT’S SO MUCH MORE THAN YOUR AVERAGE GHOST FIC JUST- JUST DO IT JUST ONE CHAPTER D O I T– JS UT FKCIN G D O IOT- -

The Message by Shipstiel

Keith is texted by accident by some idiot one day, and honestly he’s not even sure why he responds. Or why he keeps responding. Yet somehow he finds himself drawn in, and okay, so maybe this fool is mildly entertaining after all. Who would’ve thought.

>>wrong number AU with an extra dash of angst. But if you’ve read any of the other fics this author has written you’ll know that they specialize in fluff and that absolutely shines through in the fic^^

Quest for Altea by fandomlicious

20 years after the legendary sword Voltron was drawn from its stone by Queen Allura, it is stolen and eventually lost in the dangerous Balmeran Forest. To prevent the rogue knight Zarkon, his witch companion Haggar and their army of Galra warriors from claiming the sword and conquering all of Altea, it falls to Lance, with the help of a dark-haired hermit, to embark on the treacherous journey, save his kingdom and reunite his broken family.

>>if you don’t mind OCs that you get to know throughout the fic taking on a more important role, you should totally check out this fic. It’s plot heavy and reads like a published novel :D

Foreign Scenes by bwyn

Lance has been dreaming of travelling since the first time he heard stories from his family as a child. Now, having finally the time and money to do it, he goes on a trip to Europe to see some of the most culturally rich cities on the continent. Except he keeps bumping into the same guy over and over again, in random cities, doing stupid shit, and ultimately dragging Lance into his trouble, too.

>>it’s one of the few fics that I haven’t read personally yet and still won’t hesitate to recommend. lots of my friends have read and praised it, apparently it’s fluffy and fun. it’s absolutely on my to read list :D

Crossroads by manamune

When Keith crashed his Lion into a Galra warship in order to stop it from destroying a solar system, and more importantly, his friends, he was fully prepared to die for it.What he didn’t prepare for was to wake up in an alternate universe where he and Lance were dating.

>>this one. if you haven’t read it yet, go read it. it was my fav voltron fic for a long long time!!!! it’s got it all, plot, romance, character development, realistic amounts of angst- it’s very very good.

Drive It Like You Mean It by Zizzani

The Castle of Lions is the venue for the city’s most dangerous illegal street races where drivers come to test the cut of their tires. Lance has long defended his title as champion, but when a newcomer shows up and threatens his position things take an interesting turn.

>>not into cars and street racing AUs? neither am i, my friend, and yet this is one of the best voltron fics i’ve read. trust me when i tell you that you want to read everything written by this author.

Sharps and Accidentals by Zizzani (! unfinished!)

Keith is a talented up and coming violin virtuoso. Lance hates him immediately.Or an AU in which Lance and Keith both attend the same music university. Keith is deaf. Lance is Trying™.

>>if there is one deaf!AU you should read then it’s this one. it’s really amazing all around - i’ve been following it since 2016 and i still always get excited over e-mail updates.

Ghost of the Future / Shadow of the Past by wittyy_name & Zizzani (! unfinished!)

When Lance is thrown through time, his future self from one year ahead is transported to the past in his place.-When Lance is thrown through time, he finds himself one year in the future, in place of the Lance that should be here.

>>WHEN I SAW THAT THESE TWO WRITERS WOULD COLLAB ON A FIC I NEARLY DIED BRUH THESE MIRROR FICS ARE AMAZE JUST LIKE THEIR OTHER FICS

Stick It by noussommeslessquelettes

After a run-in with the law, former national phenom turned delinquent Keith Kogane is forced to return to the regimented world of elite gymnastics, facing old foes and new challenges.

>>!!!!!!!!!! it’s such a good fic!! based on such a good movie!!!!! i’m kinda upset that not more people have read it, it’s good, give it a try, it won’t disappoint^^

Not That Bad by varelsen

A college AU featuring coffee shops, silly rivalries, motorcycles, arcade games, friendships, and lots of warm, fluffy feelings that are both confusing and delightful all at the same time.

>>the summary nails it. also starring socially anxious!keith but despite that he seems pretty in character. it’s amazing and i really love this author’s style of writing :D

He Who Fights Monsters by magisterpavus

In a world where monstrous dragons terrorize humanity daily, the Garrison trains valiant Knights to slay the evil beasts and defend Earth. But when Knight cadet Lance Espinosa is kidnapped by a strange red dragon who kills its own kind, certain truths are revealed…and so are the true monsters.

>>dragon au i repeat dragon au this is not a drill everyone - this fic!!! is freaking!!!! amazing!!!!!!! it’s in my top 5 minimum go try it out :D

Altea High by Lixie (! unfinished!)

Go back to school they said. It’ll be fun they said. Yeah, sure. It’s tons of fun scaling lava walls, accidentally setting things on fire, and being babysat by the school’s flirt.When Lance signed up (*cough* bribed *cough*) to show the new firebug around the school he thought it would be a piece of cake. He did not anticipate the sour attitude, spontaneous explosions, intimate moments in elevators…

>>the sky high au you always knew you needed :D it’s still in the very early stages but the fic is really fun so far!!

Blue Shells and Comic Books by SonofHades (! unfinished!)

Lance has too much time on his hands, Keith doesn’t have enough. Lance leans more towards being outgoing and sociable, while Keith keeps to himself and can be mostly unpleasant. Neither think they have anything in common. What they don’t realize, however, is that there happens to be a very popular graphic novel that connects them together. Lance happens to be an avid reader and Keith just happens to secretly be the author.

>>another fic i’m super pumped for oh my god. each new chapter mail has me grinning like a maniac. the waiting between updates is suffering but all worth it in the end. it’s fun and interesting and i love it!

Flirting With Death by drippingpen (! unfinished!)

Keith commits the ultimate taboo as a grim reaper: he saves a life.More specifically, he saves Lance’s life.Now they are forever linked, unable to survive without the other. Keith must protect Lance from the forces that are trying to right Keith’s wrong and kill Lance.

>>skdfghjksfhgdksjfhgjfjd i cannot describe it. the plot is really amazing and keith and lance are so attracted to each other but they can’t kiss because that would literally kill lance. it belongs to the top most interesting voltron fics out there :D

in your shoes by lydiamartin (! unfinished!)

The one where Keith and Lance live in different cities but swap bodies – and angry love notes – multiple times a week.

>>Kimi No Na Wa (your name) AU!!!! so basically anything but your typical body switch AU :P give it a try, you will be surprised by it, especially if you haven’t seen the movie.

Of Lions And House Cats by Ms_Towa (! unfinished!)

Keith is a superhero who’s been pining after the cute boy who works at the music shop across the street from HQ. He also doesn’t know that the cute boy is the same vigilante he wants to bring to justice.

>>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! all the chapters are insanely long but they’re all worth it. the plot develops rather slowly but it’s perfect as it is :P the slowest of burns. despite that it never made me lose interest in it so definitely go check it out if you have multiple hours of nothing to do!! :D

I’m gonna stop here because this list is already insanely long but it is faaaaaar from finished, believe me. This fandom produces so many good fics I can’t keep up with it ; - ;

#a² (answered ask)#izzycat6 #voltron #klance #fic rec #i tried to put mostly fics on there that aren't on every fic rec list ever already #but i know i cheated with some of them........ like crossroads for example :'D #i can't help it i adore the fic okay #check out milk tea miku's works out too if you haven't already #THEY ARE ALL AMAZING #A L L O F T H E M #yeah ok time to shut up now lmao

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