#this chapter is about 8000 words so a little longer than i usually do!

[papabigtoes]

doin some screencap doomstar redraw flashbacks for ch one of Planet Pissed and they are very fun two draw

#fan fart wips #screencap redraw #metalocalypse #william murderface #nathan explosion #mid g2 au #gonna update the gracious artists who let me use their ocs soon #with sketches n whatnot #just busy #this chapter is about 8000 words so a little longer than i usually do! #and i’ll answer you soon anon im applyin for grad school rn so im just buhizzay

[alphabravocharliedelta]

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader Epilogue

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Word Count: 6300+

[Chapter X]

Summary: The conclusion.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, injuries, etc. 

Notes: Sorry this took forever to come out! I managed to simplify this chapter from 8000+ words to around 6300 since I wasn’t exactly happy with the excessive details. Though, I hope this chapter is still enjoyable, so thanks for your patience.

February, 1984

New Jersey

Your brow twitches as noise begins to fill your ears.

A steady beep played rhythmically beside you. Accompanying it was the sound of a radio, slightly static, as well as minimal chatter that occurred a short distance away. You move your finger as physical feelings begin to return. It wasn’t long before a piercing pain seared at the back of your head before reducing to a lingering tingle.

It took a while before you could open up your eye and your usual visual field was now cut by a small bit. The whiteness of the hospital walls felt more blinding than it should have, and it only added onto the distaste of the color. Everything felt out of focus, and you give yourself a few moments to properly adjust.

Your body was treated heavily in medical bandages and equipment. A heavy weight rested over the left side of your face where your eye should be open. There was a clip on your finger, as well as an IV up your arm. A nasal tube was up your nose, and you tried your best not to gag at the feeling of something in your throat.

Adjusting your posture was a struggle, but you manage to prop yourself up. Beside you on your right was a small table that had a vase filled with a bouquet of flowers along with some balloons. A bit childish, but the gesture was what mattered.

How long have you been sleeping?

As if on time, you see a nurse stick her head in through the doorway. Upon noticing your awakened state, you turned your head only to watch her scurry off with widened eyes. It wasn’t long before she returned with a doctor tagging along, in which they both proceeded to take your vitals and remove anything you no longer needed. 

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“No.” Your voice sounded horrible, throat sore and dry and lips parched from the lack of water. The nurse seemed to get the gist, bringing over a cup of water for you. 

“Can you move your fingers for me?”

A few more questions, and then began the spiel of how memory loss after a traumatic event is common, as it’s the mind’s way of protecting itself from further harm. Or some shit like that.

“You were caught in the crossfire that occurred down at the mall a month ago.”

You nodded. Right. The mall. Images of Stitch popped up, as well as what he did to you, but that was all you remembered. Anything afterwards was blank. 

Wait.

A month?

“As far as everything else goes, everything seems normal. Your body’s recovering at a fast rate, so it shouldn’t be long before you can leave. Your boyfriend will be glad to hear that.” You caught the nurse winking before she tilts her head slightly to the left. “He’s a keeper you know.”

You withheld a remark, wanting to call her out on the statement. It was a lot to process.

“We’re going to check up on you later, so page us if you need anything.”

It was only after the nurse and doctor left that you noticed Adler situated on a chair with his arms crossed in the left corner of the room. You couldn’t see him at first until you turned your head. Was he covering your blind spot?

Adler wore a light grey knit vest with a long sleeve white button up underneath. His hair was unkempt with tufts poking out in a disheveled fashion compared to its usual combed from, the unshaven stubble topping it all off. The jacket he gave you was wrapped over the back of his chair. His aviators were hanging loosely from his ears, just on the verge of slipping from his nose. You couldn’t tell exactly, but with the soft snoring and steady breathing he was, in fact, asleep.

This was probably one of the few times you saw him ever sleeping. He was always awake by the time you woke up, and if he ever just so happened to take a nap in the middle of the day, his face was always covered, whether with a magazine, newspaper, or even his jacket. The moment you address him, he would sit up wide awake as if you never caught him in the act.

You wanted to wake him, but decided against it. He looked so exhausted on that chair. The poor bastard's probably been sleepless the past month, and he needed to rest. 

Despite the current circumstances you were in, it was rather placid, just watching Adler sleep soundly. 

Although, you couldn’t help but remember back to that fateful arctic day whenever you did look at him. There was always the flash of the whiteness of snow behind your eyes before the brief shiver of cold of the Arctic breeze. With the dive into the memories, a particular question would always conjure up with no definitive answer:

What if you had shot Adler instead?

Your hand flew to your waist then, your mind giving you warnings about his subtle movements. It was the gut feeling, your instincts acting on its own, noticing the details that gave away his intentions.

How his hand discreetly fell to his side with his back turned to you, gazing out onto the ocean as the sunlight highlighted his features. Adler looked oddly peaceful, and yet he had dared to sever ties on that whim. 

It was so easy to pull the trigger. You've done it an endless amount of times. On your own former Soviet comrades, on the Americans… You played both sides of the chessboard, so there should have been no hesitation or doubt when it came towards deciding your enemies. It was up to you in the end.

The sight was lined up perfectly. Right there, at his chest. You were both exhausted and mentally drained. It would have taken a second, and yet your finger never even lifted from its spot. Was it his expression that stopped you? But, he wore his aviators. He always did.

Yet, there was something captivating about him that day, whether it be his words or that simple outlook off the edge. It wasn't romantic by any means, but it was just that particular moment that he let his guard down around you, and you fell for it. A sign of trust you came to acknowledge, and it was used against you.

Even after the speculation, you knew you couldn't do it. You couldn't bring yourself to shoot him. Was it the fact that you believed you were long time acquaintances since Vietnam? The truth was revealed to you, but it was hard to simply debunk everything you’ve been manipulated in believing in. 

And that final look he gave you. Right before you free fell into the water. Regret, despair, sorrow… Yet firm. His face hardened and cold in an endeavor to bury his feelings as he followed through his orders. 

What would you have done, then? Would you have done the same to him as he did to you: toss him off the cliff while staring down at his shrinking figure as it plunged into the cold water below?

Maybe you would have returned to Perseus. He had taught you everything you knew now, practically shaping your life in whatever form he desired. 

But, considering that you foiled one of their biggest plans yet, there was no possibility of returning to his side. Instead, you would have had to leave everything behind and shed your identity of a CIA operative and Perseus member. Leave Adler on that cliff as red spouted from his chest and bled into his clothes while staining the ground. 

But, you didn't.

And now in that sick twist of fate, from living on that old Russian base, to being discovered and reenlisted, you almost gave your life up for Russell Adler once again— the man who caused it all.

Why did you agree to work with them again?

You could have just rotted away at Langley, or in some private prison. If they were kind enough, maybe they would even let you live as a regular civilian.

A scoff.

Yeah right. You were the CIA's MKUltra project, there was no way you would have gotten that free. It was already a gamble for Adler and Park to convince them to have you undergo the conditioning, and to insist on raising the dosage was the only way to ensure it’s efficiency. 

Unless he was scared of you. Maybe Adler actually got attached to you, and got frightened at the idea of you finding the truth— it would break the relationship he managed to build up by actually working beside you.

Relationship.

The nurse’s statement echoed in the depths of your mind, the word “boyfriend” repeating itself over and over.

What kind of high school humor was going around? You guys weren’t dating or anything. Would a kiss signify a lover’s relationship?

Yeah, right.

You both tried to kill each other at one point, but even then there was no use denying that something deeper was happening. Nothing to the extent of being in an intense romantic relationship, but there was something. 

The TV in the corner of your hospital room was currently playing the news, still talking about what happened at the mall. That there was suddenly a shoot out at night time, caused by an angry armed mob who stuck in to wreck the place in retaliation to the reopening. 

"The mall was empty when the shooting started, and only one person was reported in critical condition. Investigation efforts led by the New Jersey Police Department have gone nowhere..."

You tuned it out.

After a month of being in a deep sleep, you couldn't fall back asleep that easily. You were left on the hospital bed, and every little movement you made would result in searing pain before dissolving thanks to the painkillers. Stuck in place with the news channel on, you could only contemplate as to how you made it this far without dying. You really were unkillable.

Outside the window was a populated and vibrant city, filled with cars and bustling streets. The baby blue sky had pillows of clouds that broke the sea as the sun peeked out from behind them. There was an airplane breaking free from civilization just over the horizon.

"Bell?" 

Your mood shifts at the sound of your alias as the familiar voice bounced around. It was a bit raspy and deeper than usual, and it failed to aid your attempt to fight the grin that stretched ear to ear. With a relieved exhale, you say: "Hey Russ.”

Shock practically consumed Adler's being as he attempted to fathom the words you just spoke as he tried to readjust his glasses. Eventually he gave up on them, and let them hang from the vest. It looked like he'd just seen a ghost. The tug of his cheek, to the small jaw drop, you waited as he searched that mental dictionary for words.

"You're awake."

"That's the first thing you greet me with?"

There was that rare smile of his. Your sarcasm never left you.

Adler pulls his chair closer to your bedside. His hand twitches a bit, before returning back to his side and sitting back down. He licks his lips, unsure how to carry out his next move. “How do you feel?”

“I’ve been through worse.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Care to elaborate?”

There was some hesitation before he started speaking. Adler proceeded to give you a heavy account of what happened as if he was at a debrief— How they discovered the N6 barrels before getting ambushed, him running to the arcade for cover, then Stitch sneaking up on him. You appeared at this moment, firing shots at their general direction before tackling Stitch off of him.

“You barely made it to the hospital.”

“And Stitch?”

Adler pauses. “We… couldn’t officially confirm the body.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He was right there—”

“His body was gone when we did a clean up sweep.”

“You’re telling me that there’s a chance that he’s walking around with a knife in his forehead?” You lurch forward, only to flinch at the pain. 

“Bell!” Adler users you to lie back down.

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just tell me the rest.”

He didn’t go into detail regarding the events after, but reiterated that you became conscious while being escorted to the ER, refusing to let them put a needle in your arm to sedate you, and how he needed to step in.

“Once again, Prince Charming comes and saves the day,” you snicker, only to hitch your breath. It hurt to chuckle.

Adler’s already somber expression seemed to deepen. “I’m not always going to be there to save you, Bell.”

Apparently, cracking a joke wasn’t the right move. “You know I didn’t mean—”

“You almost died for fuck’s sake!” he lets out abruptly. “Were you always this selfish? You were already injured as is, you didn’t need to run in and—”

He cuts himself off, watching that grin fade away. A pang of regret hits him.

“And what, Adler? Save your life?” you spat defensively, throat already getting dry again. “I did it for you. But I guess taking a knife for someone is a selfish act now, is it?”

“I didn’t ask you to— Ugh, fuck.” Adler buries his face into his hands, contemplating. “I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t be yelling at you but… It’s just… I see you in this state, and the thought of you dying just makes me insane. I should have just brought you to Washington. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be in this damn bed.”

You gave out a sign, lowering your shoulders. There was no point in being agitated. You were both scared, and the last thing you wanted to happen was to widen the rift once again between the both of you. “It’s fine. These kinds of things are expected in this kind of work.”

Adler takes a breath, shuddering slightly. “Even so, the last thing I want to do is carry your casket down an aisle.”

“You went two years thinking I died. You can move on.”

“No. I know, but… now it’s different. It’s you, Bell.” Adler nibbles at the side of his cheek, unsure if he should continue talking. You gave no response, the look in your eyes giving him permission to continue. He exhales slowly.

It’s always been you.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he continues, “But… I know for a fact I haven’t felt this way for a long time, until recently. The last time was with her. It didn’t last as long as I thought it would. Yet, that short spur of happiness that I got while with her was something I never thought I could be granted the pleasure of knowing.”

You could only nod. 

“But of course, being in this type of job… She couldn’t handle it, eloped with someone that wasn’t military, then broke the news to me the moment I returned.” Adler tightens his jaw, as if recalling a bittersweet memory. “Turns out, there was a lot of shit we didn’t agree about. But, like always, I moved on.”

There was a bit of nostalgia within his words, sprinkled with a bit of fondness and no ill intent. No jealousy when he reminisced about it, nor any lingering tones of regret or grudges. 

“At least, that’s what I told myself… And then there’s you.” He finally locks his eyes onto yours. “I know you still hate me for what I’ve done, and I accept that. But, as we worked alongside each other, that unexplainable feeling started to come back. I tried my damn hardest to ignore it, but even then, I made a decision that brought more pain onto you.”

It nearly slipped past you, but there were small breaks between his sentences thanks to Adler sucking in some air. His voice was beginning to weaken the longer he talked.

“You shouldn’t be here. With me, with the CIA. You survived through so much shit as is, and we forced you back into it. Just the thought of losing you makes me go insane, so… When Stitch got you, I almost fucking lost it.”

Adler clasped his hands together, pressing them firmly against each other to stop himself from breaking down. You note that his nose and eyes were just a tinge of pink. What was he getting at?

“I don’t want to leave your side. But I… don’t want you to get hurt anymore, Bell. The more I think about it, the more I realize you didn’t deserve this. I made you this way. If you continue to work with us, then there’s going to be instances where I’m not there for you. I don’t want that. What happens if I’m a second too slow—”

You cut him off, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him towards you as you lean forward. 

He freezes as both your lips make contact, but didn't fight it. He melts into it, letting his mouth do the work as he closes his eyes.

For someone as tough as you once were, it was almost pathetic to see how you managed to fall for a guy like him. What did you see in him that he didn’t? As confident as Adler was, constantly reassuring and supporting you, he could only ponder as to why everything just worked out.

In the end, despite the insecurities shared by the both of you, this was something he had been wanting to do for so long. 

It's been nearly seven fucking months since you both shared that kiss in your room. He wasn't the type for obnoxious public displays of affection, but hell, even he had a yearning for that shit. Even alluding to the idea that the one kiss in your room could have been the last was scarring, so this one needed to count.

But, the wait was worthwhile. It was slow and tender, done so with such care that it made his own heart skip a beat. With each second it became more passionate, yet still had that careful touch. He wasn't going to let any more chances slip by him.

You withdraw a few millimeters, taking a second to catch your breath, before once again making contact, this time from the corner of his mouth. Trailing up his cheek you could feel his scruff brush against your bandages. Adler refused to even move under your touch, giving out a shaky exhale.

Your lips meet his scar, and you deliver a final, graceful and slow peck on it. 

“No one's getting rid of me that easily,” you declare before pulling away. "Especially you, Russell Adler."

He shudders, wiping his nose with the back of his hand while choking back a sob. 

It wasn't something he didn't think he would desire, and yet this kind of contact is what he's been missing. And for you to give affection to the brand that he was secretly self-conscious about held more meaning than you'll ever realize.

After going years without having someone, after his ex-wife, even he believed that love was something he just didn’t deserve, nor should he be bothered to seek it out. He dedicated his life to his job since then, so innocent people could live normally. It was always for the greater good, and yet Adler himself forgot that even he needed to take care of himself. 

There were nights where he would just sit in silence, reliving past events, just wishing for someone to comfort him through all of it.

Your head fit right under his chin and you waited silently, listening to his uneven breaths. Your hands gripped at his clothes as if you were holding for dear life. 

“Thank you, Bell.”

After taking time trying to settle back in, you could feel Adler press his lips against the top of your head. It was a bit of an uncomfortable position to be in, and you could feel the painkillers beginning to wear off, but you didn’t want to move. Staying there inside the warm embrace of the man you’ve become too attached to was a moment you wanted to cherish.

Adler’s arms loosen up, giving you room to pull away. 

Still, you stay close, just a couple inches away from his face. He doesn't object as you tuck some strands of hair behind his ear. Your finger runs down the back of it before trailing down to stroke the edge of his jawline, leaving him to eye you reproachfully while finding closure. You finally were awake, animating and talking right in front of him after a month of being met with silence.

Your index stops at his chin, before following the path of his scar and up to his lips, where your finger then traced them ever so lightly with the touch of a feather. You couldn't even react in time as Adler steals a quick kiss from you, which he then sends you a triumphant grin afterwards. 

"Just making sure."

While neither of you uttered those three beloved words, it was clear enough how you felt about one another. 

"So…" you begin, gazing longingly in the sea of blue. "About that date..."

.

.

.

.

.

.

Adler pulls up into a decently crowded lot, and parks inside an empty stall. He takes the keys out of the engine, leaving the car and you follow suit. The doors closed with a nice slam and he locks his car. 

“You know, Bell… I could think of a hundred different other places to eat that are way better than this joint.”

“If I remember, you said that you would take me wherever I wanted, and this is it.”

Just thirty minutes ago you were discharged from the hospital after saying an extra week. With no medical history, or insurance, Adler had personally come to retrieve you for the long anticipated date, and the first thing you requested was to go eat breakfast somewhere.

You and Adler were now sitting at a booth inside an IHOP at 7:33 in the morning. 

He was wearing a tan long sleeve turtleneck, his jacket hanging from the shoulders. The aviators were off, sitting neatly on the table. He almost looked like a different person without them, but with the scar stretching across his face, there was no way of mistaking him.

Both of you were waiting for your order, letting the morning rays hit through the window. There was the clatter of plates and metal utensils in the background, a few waitresses going around and delivering orders to their respective tables.

Upon your request, after a week of shitty hospital food and a month of tube feeding, you needed some good food. While you were never familiar about the United States in general, this happened to be the closest place to the hospital that caught your eye. It probably wasn't the best of establishments, but anything goes.

“How’s the eye?” Adler asks. 

“It's seen better days.” 

He shook his head while sighing at your attempt at being slick. But he was smiling a tiny bit. “Nice try, [L/N]. But, seriously, what’d they say?”

“...I can still work.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You bit your lip. The eyepatch was a clear indicator of the answer.

Underneath it was a pad of gauze taped securely over your eye. You could feel it throbbing from time to time, and had to take painkillers every few hours so you could sleep. Your left arm was in a sling while your right one sat comfortably inside your black bomber jacket, although both were wrapped with bandages. At this point, every part of your body had gone through some kind of trauma. 

“...They said it was hard to tell.”

Adler nods. It wasn’t the greatest news to hear, and he would have to do more research later. “Considering that it’s you we’re talking about, there shouldn’t be an issue in rehabilitating.”

You grin at his positivity. “Of course.”

"Good."

His gaze comes to focus on your face. 

That once, untouched skin of yours now had a long and thin discolored streak that ran right down the left side, starting from your forehead, going under the eyepatch, then right down to your jaw as if a single tear rolled down and left behind an imprint of its trail. It felt unfitting for someone of your nature.

"What's wrong?" you ask. Adler shakes his head, brushing it off.

"It's nothing."

You point to your scar with a conceited look. "'You mean this? Is it noticeable?'"

"Really, [Y/N]? You're stealing my lines now?" 

The sound of your laughter that followed was relaxing for him to hear. "We're matching now."

Adler couldn't help but smirk along. "With that eyepatch? No, you resemble Weaver, if anything."

"This Weaver guy’s pretty famous. Everyone else seems to know of him. Do we really have that much in common?"

"You’d be surprised. He's Russian, for one. Also has an eyepatch for the same reason as you." He pauses to think. "I actually haven't heard from him for a while. But, hey, who knows? Maybe you'll meet each other some day."

"So… Let me get this straight. I heard it from Woods and Mason, but Kravchenko stabs this Weaver friend in the eye, then you take Stitch's for revenge. Then that bastard takes my eye—"

"We've basically come full circle."

"Damn. You guys really have some unfinished business."

"It's what we're paid for."

Everyone's history ran deep with one another, and soon enough you would be thrown into the mix of special officers with intricate ties. It had taken quite the effort to convince Adler that you refused to be removed from the team (and the CIA together). With everything you have experienced, the thought of simply returning to civilian life was foreign. 

“Speaking of pay… You're going to take the med bills from my check, right?” you ask as the thought crossed your mind. Considering your injuries and the intensive care you went through, the bills were certainly more than one page. “Because, if that's the case–”

“Already been taken care of.”

You were going to ask "by who", but judging from Adler's expression, you already knew the answer. His eyes lingered a bit longer, before drifting towards someone walking towards the table.

The waitress came over, setting down two cups of coffee. You thank her, and you could hear a soft "your welcome" as she walked away. 

Reaching out for the cup, you tried to grab the handle, only for you to completely miss and grab air. Your brows knitted in concentration, you tried again.

"Need some help?" Adler asks with pure amusement.

"No, I got it."

"Clearly not. That was my cup."

Adler placed his hand on top of yours, guiding you to the handle of your cup. His hands were big, feeling hard and rough placed on top of yours. Feeling the porcelain, closed your fingers around it. 

"Thanks..." you mutter, feeling some heat rising on your cheeks. 

"See? Not that hard."

"I wish I could see, Russ, but I'm kinda blind in one eye," you retort lightly.

The coffee mug in your hands was warm to the touch. It stung a bit, especially with your injuries, but in an odd way it felt comforting. Using a spoon, you twirled around the coffee, watching it change into a lighter shade of brown before tasting it and adjusting the flavor. Adler didn't say much, only watching just in case something happened. If you needed assistance, he was right there.

"So, when do we get back to work?" you ask, hopeful. You took a sip of your coffee, making sure it was close to your lips before tilting the mug slightly.

"You still want to work? Even after all that?"

Adler was taken aback. If he were to put himself in your shoes, he would have thrown in the towel by now. Your work ethic was impressive, even more so knowing your history, and it was extremely concerning. It was because of it that you were getting closer to him, and the association between you two would only make the target on your back larger. Stitch abducting you as a hostage was the epitome of his fears, only fueling his hatred for the man even further.

He nearly lost you because of this connection. 

"I do. I mean, we still have unfinished business with Perseus."

You couldn't exactly say that you were scared of being abandoned. Or that you had nowhere else to go if you were to retire per say. Knowing how the team worked endlessly undercover, there was a low chance of ever seeing them again, and they were all that you had. Even if your relationship with them has been tested, they still never failed you. And you won’t let them down.

“Even so, the CIA considers you a threat to national security,” Adler regards, making sure you were the only one that could hear. A danger to the general public, mentally unstable, unfit for duty… the list went on.

“You guys are the only things I have left, and you are not going to take that away from me,” you counter. The brief sensation of something sharp sparked in your stomach, so you quickly eased up and leaned back. “Besides, that’s what they said about Mason, too. Operation Charybdis, was it? And look where he is now. If he’s still an operative in the CIA despite all that, then I can as well.”

“That’s classified info, [L/N]. How did you—”

“What can I say?” You shrug nonchalantly, setting your cup back down. “I’m a person of many talents.”

“You knowing that only proves their point further.”

You pout, offended. “What are they going to do, shoot me?”

Adler groans, knowing full well that he couldn’t convince you otherwise. Though, in the depths of his mind, he was secretly happy about it. Your arrogance, along with a few other things, needed some work. “I'll see what I can do, but for now let’s not discuss any of that here.”

“Sir, with all due respect, it’s eight in the morning, and we’re sitting in fucking IHOP,” you tease. "I don't think anyone is awake enough to eavesdrop."

While the two of you were regular civilians for today, the way you both looked would easily catch the eyes of anyone passing by. A man with a huge scar on his face, and another with an eyepatch, arms bandaged from the fingertips to the shoulder. The waitress couldn’t even look at you without her eyes drifting elsewhere despite her attempts.

"I just remembered," Adler perks up suddenly, digging something out from his pocket, setting it on the table. "A gift from the team, to celebrate your release."

It was a small rectangular package, wrapped in brown paper. A bow was slapped on top of it, a tag attached to it which had "[Y/N]" written on the back of it, Adler's penmanship easily eligible.

"And, uh, this keychain from Woods." He hands you a tiny jar of sand with the Florida white engravings on the outside, and you couldn't help but grin. 

"How thoughtful of him."

You turn your attention to the box, taking a peek at Adler for permission, and he gives you a nod. Opening it carefully, you found a newly packaged Walkman, still in the box. It was a newer model, one you haven't seen yet. Slimmer and lighter, too. 

"What do you think?" Adler asks, unable to gauge your feelings.

"Are you sure I can have this?" You couldn't find any words. 

"Stop undervaluing yourself, [L/N]. You deserve it. You contribute a lot to the team, we couldn't have done it without you.”

You nod, holding the box as if it were a newborn baby. You thought of which cassette to play first, only to remember you didn't have them anymore. As if cue, Adler set two tapes down. One MIX 2 and another you have never seen before, MIX 3. How original, you thought. You reach out, your arm straining itself as you went to retrieve the tapes, only for Adler to once again take your hand and place it on top. An odd feeling bubbles in your stomach.

Butterflies again.

"You know I still can see right?" you state, looking straight at him, but he didn’t meet your gaze, instead looking out the window. "Just because I only have one eye at the moment doesn't mean you need to baby me."

"To be fair, you aren’t doing much to stop me either."

It was a habit you noticed about him. Actions speak louder than words, the only exception would be how he would address you by your actual name instead of Bell whenever it was just the two of you outside of work-related business. 

"Anyways. There's a few of my personal favorites in here." He taps the third cassette.  "Had a friend of mine compile it together this time."

"Didn't know you were a music person." You take the Walkman out of it's packaging, tossing aside the extra papers and plastic.

"I'm not, but I have a good ear for talent."

After putting MIX 3 inside the Walkman, you pondered over if you should listen to it. Deciding not to, especially when you were out with Adler, you wrapped the earphone wires around it, pocketing it alongside with the other cassette. "I'll listen to it later, if that's fine."

"By all means."

Your eyes wander for a bit, watching a waitress help another table. “What’s the date again today?”

“February twenty-eighth.”

“Ah, thought so.” You got up from your seat. “Wait here for a moment.”

Adler gives you an intrigued look, but shrugs it off as you walk off. Taking a sip of his coffee, he watches a couple cars enter and leave the parking lot from his spot. It was one of those few occasions that the mornings were seldom and chill, and eating at a breakfast joint earned him some peace of mind.

While it wasn’t the best place to eat at, your presence alone brought him happiness. You were back to your usual self despite fighting against all odds just weeks before. 

You took a glimpse at him over your shoulder, before returning to talk to the waitress, who nodded before going behind the counter. You were planning something, but he didn’t know what.

“What was that?” Adler asks a bit accusingly as you return to your seat. 

“Just remembered something, that’s all.”

“And you’re going to leave me hanging?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.”

Adler stops pestering you, surveying your face for anything that could give away your secret, but he couldn't find anything. 

You notice this, and give him a sly grin. "Someone's impatient today."

Of course he was. It was the first time you were out of the hospital, and the last thing he wanted was for you to over exert yourself and open up any wounds. 

But before he could even respond with a snarky rebuttal, the waitress you talked to earlier comes back with a plate and sets it down gently on the table, along with two forks and some napkins. On it was a stack of pancakes with a small scoop of butter on top, which was already melting and dripping down the sides. The lady brought over a bottle of syrup.

"Happy birthday," you greet. "It's free, so don't worry about paying for it."

"Two weeks ago."

"Yeah, well I wasn't exactly fully awake for your birthday, was I? Better late than never."

No one ever really did something like this for him, nor did he expect you to remember his birthday. It wasn't much to celebrate as he got older, it was just another year he managed to live, but this time it felt different. 

"Lazar also told me about this thing called Valentine's Day, but… like I said," you continue, "So, might as well celebrate your birthday and Valentine's at the same time. Since, we're you know, I guess—"

"On a date," he finishes. "We're adults, no need to get so worked up about it. But, thank you, [Y/N]."

A simple morning coffee run date turned into a tiny birthday/Valentine's celebration. Weird, considering it was weeks past, but it was heartwarming to say the least. 

No wonder he fell for you. And seeing you do these little gestures for him makes him even more determined to hold you close and protect you. To see someone like you turn into a bashful, nervous wreck when showing affection was something Adler found cute.

Adler chuckles at your embarrassment as he reaches out to the forks and hands one over to you. You take it graciously, feeling his hand bump against yours. 

Your first date.

"Something bugging you?" Adler voices his concern, waiting for you to take the first bite.

You cut a small piece with your fork. "No. Just thinking."

"About?"

"You."

You wanted to learn more about him. Not by researching or through the CIA database, but through himself. What kind of person was he, really? You wanted to hear his story and his experiences, and you wanted to be there for him to return the favor. His struggles, his efforts… All of it. No more lies and fabrication.

Adler graces you with a coquettish smile. "Well, don't think too hard now. We may be on a 'date', but don't let me distract you from the important stuff."

"But, you are the 'important stuff'."

“Keep flirting like that and you'll start to sound like Lazar.”

And, if he was interested, you would tell him about yourself, too. Whatever you remembered, where you were born… There was still lots to rediscover about yourself, but you knew he would be there right beside you.

Just like he promised.

#YOOO i finally finished this after putting it off for so long #russell adler x reader #bell x adler #call of duty x reader #adler x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty black ops cold war #black ops cold war #bo:cw #bell #russell adler #abcd briefing #fanfic #why is my tagging so ASS #cod #if theres errors or feels repetitive i apologize i read this over and over again to a point where it doesnt register #well glad this is out of my drafts #i should have posted this way earlier lmao i barely did any changes since i first wrote the draft

[autumnslance]

((Shadowbringers 5.3-5.4. I wanted to have this done by the 15th of January but didn’t quite manage it because these two idiots are wordy as heck, and I initially started in the wrong place and POV. I wrote roughly 8000 words total and only ended up using half of them. There are letters and pining and admitting things happening here.

Below the cut as usual for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3, but the formatting may work better on that site.))

Aeryn stepped through the mirror and into the familiar space of the Ocular, taking a moment to reorient herself after the rush of journeying between worlds. Once the vertigo had passed she left the Tower, the Crystarium guards greeting her as she crossed the Exedra. It took some questioning before she was finally pointed to where Ryne was currently; training with Captain Lyna just outside the city gates.

She simply watched for a time as Lyna tried to keep her distance while Ryne tried to close in. Aeryn did not announce herself, simply noting how Ryne’s bladework had improved, at least one new trick learned since the last time Aeryn had watched her fight.

“That is enough for now,” Lyna said as they reached a breakpoint in their dance. “And the Warrior of Darkness has waited long enough,” she continued with a wry smile in Aeryn’s direction.

Ryne started, then turned with a grin, hurrying over to give Aeryn a hug. “It’s good to see you! Oh sorry, I’m all sweaty…”

Aeryn laughed, brushing damp strands of hair from Ryne’s reddened face. It was still winter in Eorzea, but in Norvrandt spring was on the horizon and the morning was warm. “Not to worry. Hope you don’t mind the interruption.”

Lyna waved them off. “Go on; we can catch up later.”

Aeryn nodded, knowing the captain wanted word of her grandfather, and G’raha had given Aeryn a small package to deliver, but that would wait until Lyna was off duty and had readied herself. There was an order to such things with the stoic woman.

Instead, Aeryn turned back to Ryne and smiled. Had she gotten taller? “I have a question, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Of course!” Ryne answered as they walked across the bridge into the city. “What is it you need?”

“I have a note from Thancred; he and Urianger are currently on a mission, but he left me instructions for tod--well. The day it is back on the Source.”

“I see. What are the instructions?”

“I’m to ask you about the black willow box he kept in his room here.”

Ryne paused, a little sharp breath escaping. “Ryne?” Aeryn asked.

“Sorry! It’s just I was under strict instruction never to open the box, though I have the key now, of course; I still didn’t dare. It’s where he kept,” she hesitated.

“Kept what?”

“I’ll show you; it’s a good thing--I think--that he wants you to see. Come on!” Ryne dashed toward her apartment as if she hadn’t just completed a long practice session with the captain of the guard. Aeryn picked up her own pace to follow along after.

It did not take long for them to reach the apartment Ryne used to share with Thancred. As the girl opened the door, Aeryn realized it was the first time she had returned to these rooms since the Scions’ departure from the First. It was much as she remembered, though lacking Thancred’s continued presence. Evidence of Gaia’s frequent visits were visible instead, from lipstick-stained coffee mugs at the sink to dark ribbons left on an end table to a book that did not seem to be to Ryne’s taste on a sofa cushion.

Ryne paused in front of the door that had led to Thancred’s small room. “I haven’t been in here since,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Gaia and Taynor sorted most of it, actually, so only a few personal things remain. I should probably move to a smaller suite to let someone else use the space…”

“Maybe you need a roommate,” Aeryn suggested. “Perhaps Gaia could stay with you.”

Ryne reddened. “We’ve considered it, but I’m just…” She gave a helpless little laugh as she shrugged, looking up at Aeryn apologetically. “I’m just not quite ready, I think. It’s silly, but there’s a part of me that keeps hoping they’ll find a way--a safe way--to return. Even just for a little while.”

Aeryn squeezed Ryne’s shoulder. “It’s not silly,” she said quietly. “And I keep hoping that, too. Fairly certain Y’shtola has it at the top of her projects list.”

Ryne laughed, truly this time. “She would!” She looked at the door again. “The box should be on the shelf above the writing desk,” she offered Aeryn a small key. “I’ll let you see for yourself.”

Aeryn nodded, taking the little key and entering the room.

It was familiar, yet unfamiliar. Always small, it had kept from being cramped mainly by virtue of Thancred’s own minimalist tendencies with his added reluctance of accumulating things on the First that he would have to leave behind in the end. Even so, the room felt barren, many necessities and items missing, given away to be used by others in need among the Crystarium’s residents; naught went to waste while still usable.

The bed was neatly made; her eyes lingered for a moment, recalling a handful of pleasant times curled up together in it. They had often met in her own chambers for privacy, especially when feeling the need for more than simple closeness. There was a bench under the shuttered window; he used to clean his gunblade there, storing materials and parts in a chest beneath the bench. Nothing remained but the seat.

The writing desk was really a tall square table, a stool for the chair, in a corner of the room. Two simple shelves hung on the wall above it, some of Thancred’s personal effects that remained neatly placed upon them. The black willow box was a simple but lovely piece of old Nabaath make. It was familiar only in that it was a part of the room, always upon the shelf above the desk, a background decoration.

She had to stretch a little to pull the small box down. She unlocked it, pondering what it could contain for one last moment before opening the lid to find out.

Neatly folded pages, Thancred’s familiar handwriting covering them, five different bundles marked by Vrandtic dates in Eorzean lettering. The earliest one was dated five--no, six years ago now, in the midst of Thancred’s first year in this world, just after the Vrandtic new year. The second bundle was dated a year later. Then the third, then a fourth. The final bundle broke the date pattern, written...She shivered. The dates would have been the time after they assaulted Mt Gulg and before seeking Emet-Selch and the Exarch in the Tempest, when she had lain in a Light-induced fever for days in between.

All of the letters, long and detailed, were addressed to her.

Aeryn carried the box to the window and opened the shutters, letting in the natural light of day. She sat at the bench, picked up the first letter, and began to read, brows already rising at the first line.

My Dear Aeryn,

It’s been roughly half a year, to me, since I arrived in this world. We search for a means to send me back, but given the dangers, it’s difficult to say if we shall ever be successful. I hold onto hope, given we have made the impossible happen more than once—particularly when you are involved.

I know so much less time is passing for you, even as time is difficult to track beneath the eternal Light, but the people still mark the hours and days as best they can--perhaps better than we do in the Source, reliant as we are upon the sun and stars. So as the calendar year turns to a new page, I find myself confronted by reminders of you at every turn, my own mind noting the dates, as if counting down to your nameday in truth.

Violas grown in the Hortorium call to mind your favored hair decoration and your scents carried with it. The heather meadows and clear mountain springs of Il Mheg make me think of the taste of your magic. Treasure hunters in Mord Souq unearth duelist rapiers reminiscent of your combat style. The grey waters of a lake, shifting in color and tone under the burning sky, remind me of your eyes and ever-shifting moods.

I think of our new situation, how fragile it all still seems, our duties as Scions, the distance between Ala Mhigo and Doma keeping us apart more often than I liked. Especially after already having denied my own interests for far longer than I care to admit.

I fear now, not knowing when I may return to your side--in whatever capacity--that I am forgetting important things, and I very much do not want to. So indulge me as I list your various qualities that I admire, to remind myself why I allowed myself to maintain my impossible infatuation for so long, even as you became one of my dearest friends...

Aeryn eyes widened as she turned to the next page, then quickly checked the several pages following; Thancred had indulged his bardic habits, writing in verse and engaging in wordplay. Even the most innocent descriptions and memories of moments together, professional and extremely personal, were laden with puns and innuendo--not entirely unexpected from him.

She was mostly through the verses, trying to parse every dedicated line, when a knock at the door startled her.

“Aeryn?” Gaia called. “Everything all right?”

She cleared her throat. “Fine; I’ve quite a bit of reading to do, though; I may need some water.”

The door opened, Gaia appearing with a tray already in hand. “Ryne thought you might--are you all right? You’re redder than I have ever seen, and that’s saying something.”

Aeryn pressed a hand to her warm cheeks. “I’m fine. Just...wasn’t expecting some of what I found so far.”

“Is that good or bad?” The girl asked, setting the tray on the nearby side table in easy reach. There was a small tea service and also ice water, bless them. 

“It’s...Better than good,” Aeryn replied. “I may be awhile, though.”

Gaia shrugged in her nonchalant, pretending-not-to-care way. “Doesn't matter to me, but I was going to drag Ryne out for a while, just so you know. You’ll be fine here by yourself--won’t you?” A little genuine care came through in the last two words, despite her attempts to seem otherwise.

Aeryn nodded.

“All right. Enjoy your reading, and we’ll see you later.” Gaia gave a little wave before leaving, quietly closing the door behind her.

Aeryn cleared her throat again, sipping the cup of minty green tea--bless those girls again--and set the first letter aside for now. She would get back to that later; alone in her own room, where she could bury her face in a pillow and shriek like a schoolgirl when overwhelmed by his words, godsdamn him. For now, the second bundle had her curious.

My Dearest Aeryn,

I almost let the date slip by, I am ashamed to say. So much has happened in recent weeks...

She read through two pages of his recounting Minfilia’s story and the reincarnations that had followed, offering a small hope to Norvrandt; of Urianger and Y’shtola’s arrival, his anger at the spell’s failure and yet relief at seeing Urianger again; and their shift in focus upon learning of the Eighth Umbral Calamity.

...Urianger’s vision of the Calamity, of our deaths, is a sobering thought. The idea of you fallen especially freezes my blood. I cannot bear the thought.

So I redoubled my efforts to rescue the girl bearing Minfilia’s name and appearance. She sleeps now on a cot in this Mord town as I write. She can’t be more than twelve or thirteen summers; a frail little thing with no skills aside from reading books thicker than she is, and asking innumerable questions. They taught her nothing, simply locked her in a windowless cell under the waterline. For at least ten years, that is all the child’s known. If the fate Urianger saw for us makes my blood freeze, her situation makes it boil again. Should I chance to meet Eulmore’s General--the man responsible for her “care”--I will let him know exactly what I think.

Tomorrow Minfilia and I shall attempt to reach Nabaath Areng, the site of the Flood’s halting; the girl says she must go there, as if pulled. I have a hope I dare not voice yet. The Blessing of Light does work in such interesting ways.

But that is on the morrow; tonight, though a day late, I wished to write to you as I did last year. With the date in mind you have also been in my thoughts--when I’ve had a moment to think, at least--and I find myself recalling more and more often the little things. Simple things. Things I fear I may forget, having been here for years now, years without the way you tilt your head when you have a question. It initially annoyed me actually, you were so quiet but now, gods I would give much to be in your silence again, to see that quizzical look. Anything to see the little furrow between your brows when you’re thinking. When you prop your chin on your hands as you stare out a window, tea forgotten in your hand. How you unconsciously wriggle and make faces as you read, reacting to the pages, lips silently moving as you devour each word...

“Oh I do not,” Aeryn muttered--realizing in the same moment that she was doing that now. She sipped her tea and kept reading, noting how he wrote, as much as what; the moments where he had scratched out words, or underlined others. The splots where the pen had sat on the page a moment longer than normal as he thought of what he wanted to admit to. The way the letters slanted in places where he was eager. There was no poetry this time, fewer puns and word play. He had written when tired and possibly injured, given the shakiness of some lettering.

There were places where he couldn’t remember clearly--what perfume had she worn on the day of a particular memory? Was she wearing her red coat, or a blue dress in another? He wasn’t certain.

The letter wrapped up several pages later.

...I must get some sleep, given the long trek across the Amber Hills awaiting. I don’t know what will happen when we arrive, but whatever it is, I’ll keep the girl safe. Taking care of her is the only thing I can do, lacking the skills of the Exarch and our colleagues. Particularly now that we have abandoned the idea of going home--yet. I still don’t know how I feel about that, having struggled to find a way back for so long now, but there must be a home to return to. To save ourselves, we must save this realm. Forgive me; as much as I yearn to see you again, I wish for you to live far more. Despite everything, I still remain

Yours, Thancred.

Aeryn drew in a sharp breath; the previous letter’s signature had been much simpler, after all the floweriness of the verses. This simpler, newsy, reminiscent letter had such a different feel to it, so much changing for him in that year. Her eyes kept drifting to that closing.

It took a few moments before she was able to refold that bundle and open the next.

His next year in the First; this one another detailed description of events he survived, and quite a lot about Ryne, still only known as Minfilia at the time.

...I actually began this letter yesterday, as we rested in a small inn at the edge of the Greatwood. I thought of seeking out Y’shtola, but am unfamiliar with those dark and twisting paths, and was low on ammunition. Minfilia was exhausted, unable to fight or imbue cartridges, and I won’t risk her more than our constant travels already do.

It was she who reminded me that I had been writing, before she made me take my rest as well. I’ve never told her about these letters, but she’s a bright girl and I have told her of you. Sometimes it’s simply because she is curious about you, and the hope that you’ll come here and save yourself, as well as the rest of us. Many times though I don’t mean to say anything, but the stories simply come, like a slumbering spring awoken by new rains, bubbling up and overflowing the riverbanks.

It’s something about her, I suppose, that makes me remember, and so I must speak before the memories fade back into the dustier corridors of my mind. Perhaps an effect of her unique Blessing? Or perhaps simply her childish curiosity drawing it out of me.

There’s a selfish part of me that wants you to meet her. It would mean that you’re here, for one, but also I think you two would get along. She’s a good girl--with her moments of petulance and stubbornness, as many youths are wont, but she’s come such a long way already, has learned so quickly.

I fear influencing her. The choice she must make is so important, and it must be hers.  You would be a much better role model; you inspire others to do what’s best simply by your presence. I’ve felt the lack of you more keenly this last year than ever before...

Aeryn read through, noting he wrote it more like a conversation she had yet to answer. Memories of their adventures and companionship were woven through the words more naturally as he spoke to her. She smiled as he spent a good chunk of the letter not even realizing how he had gushed about Ryne and all she had learned and how she had grown in that first year they spent together, as if he were trying to ensure Aeryn would love the child as much as he so obviously did--even if the foolish man hadn’t been able to tell the girl so until it had almost been too late.

But then, that was Thancred; locking his thoughts and feelings behind stoicism, snark, and literally in a box on a shelf.

She traced her nail along the letters of his name--again signed “Yours”--before tucking that bundle away and picking up the fourth.

By this time the twins were somewhere in Norvrandt, though Thancred had no opportunity to see them as Eulmore’s hunters were ever close. He wrote to Aeryn of his frustration with how many Scions had come to the First but she was still so far away and still in so much danger, alongside the rest of the Source and this shard itself. If she couldn’t come to Norvrandt to break the Light’s hold over the realm then the girl would have to make her choice sooner rather than later--and perhaps face the same fate as all of her predecessors.

He admitted that he feared both of those outcomes. He seemed to have begun to cross out that line, but had stopped himself.

...A nasty part of me believes you will never receive these nameday letters. That these are simply my way of remembering yet another important woman in my life I will never see again. I try not to dwell on such thoughts, try to keep busy, but you know me. Perhaps better than anyone since our Minfilia. How I wish I could speak with you again; patrolling through Mor Dhona, lunch at Rowena’s cafe, stargazing on the roofs of Ala Mhigo, reading in the Waking Sands’ dusty library. Simply holding you until we fall asleep, those few, rare moments we had. You always made me say more than I ever meant to; you’ve a way of drawing me out despite myself—and failing that, of simply being there as a brilliant, warm presence.

There are places here I want to show you, things I want to share. Yet I fear your coming, what it will mean. What changes I’ve experienced. What we had was...comfortable, and felt right, after so long, and yet it was still so new and fragile. I used to be confident in my ability to be delicate, but these last few years with this girl have made me feel boorish and clumsy. And I know I have changed, not just because of her, but everything in this hard world. Will you recognize me when we meet? Will you still want me, when you were already so uncertain before?

I suppose I shan’t know until you’re here, or we find a way home. Given the Exarch’s record, the former seems more likely. And it still worries me, much as I know it’s the better course to preserve all we hold dear...

Aeryn stared out the window for a long moment; she had known of his doubts, his fears; when she had arrived and finally found him again, it had been difficult. Yet despite everything, they had gotten past it.

She eyed the final bundle, slimmer than the rest, those dates seeming so heavy though she had no conscious recollection of them, given her state at the time. Having finished the tea, she poured a glass of water and began to read.

Aeryn,

Ryne assures us you will still be Aeryn when you wake; her wards hold for now. I pray long enough to find a cure for what those bastards did to you. What we did to you, unknowing. Will you be pleased to know I have not struck Urianger for his part? I was too tired and injured as we returned, and occupied with carrying you besides. Now I simply am too weary in heart and mind to conjure that initial anger, and he has had time to explain how the Exarch coerced him into his confidence.

I am still not happy about it.

For five years I waited to see you again, thought about you through many days and most nights--such as they are, here. It’s funny what one can become accustomed to in time. Finally seeing you again was a jolt to every one of my senses as the missing you had long since become more real to me, much as I longed for your presence.

And as I feared, you hesitated. I don’t blame you; I know this place changed me. What we had back home was still so new, despite the prior years we had known each other. So I tried to be content to merely be in your company once more. We had rebuilt our friendship once, we could do it again. I had been a fool to think I deserved more.

Then you sought me out in Rak’tika. Do I need to tell you how you intoxicated me that day? I hope I was a comfort, both in words and in the release you needed. The distance still felt too great, but this much, at least, I could give. I thought it would be enough, to simply be what you needed in the moment.

I know now that I was once again fooling myself.

These last few months traveling and fighting and just being together have been a strange mix of stress and relief; our mission had been dangerous and difficult in so many ways, and yet working together, it was hard not to get caught up in the optimism, in the feeling that things would turn out, that we would find a way.

And you were here; your quizzical headtilts, your faces when you read, the white flowers in your hair. Your silences, your laughter, your strength in combat and your helping with every common chore in the vicinity. I thought I could simply be happy to bask in your steady light.

But now, seeing it tear you apart, it is not enough; it never was, and never will be. I can live with it, should that be your wish. My wish, however, is to continue what we had once begun. To hold you close not only occasionally but always.

Aeryn felt a hard lump in her throat; there was a decent space between the lines, the ink thick where he had hesitated, the initial letters shaky. Still he had written them:

I am in love with you, Aeryn.

It’s taken me time to collect myself after rereading what I just wrote and fighting the urge to burn the whole page. A part of me fears that you will scoff, though the greater part of me knows--hopes--better of you.

And the gods know you deserve better than me, but if you’ll have me, I certainly won’t complain.

I know after everything with Ryne I ought to say it to you aloud. That it may already be too late to do so. I pray that isn’t the case. I pray I find the courage and the words both to say what you deserve to hear. Even should you never reciprocate; if that should be the case, you shall never hear another whisper from me on the matter.

But I hold out a small hope, that you will, that you do. That we will have the chance to discuss the matter further. That you survive.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I only know I’ll be at your side until the end; there’s nowhere else I can be.

Ryne is calling; hold on just a little while longer, darling.

Yours always, Thancred.

She covered her face with her hands, emotions and memories flooding over her. There were words before finally confronting Emet-Selch in his memory of Amaurot. More than words on returning to the Crystarium, bodies twined together in relief and comfort.

Then she had returned to the Source to report their success. She came back to the First as quickly as she could, though; not only was there still much work to do, but he was here, and things were...not exactly different, but not quite the same, either.

As she reread the last page, she noticed a swiftly written addendum on the back. She turned it over.

I carried these letters all the way to the Tempest, thinking if I failed to say anything I might at least give them to you--they are yours, after all. But of course no time seemed right, and with a screwing of my courage (and pointed prodding from Urianger), at the last I was able to say what I wished. Miraculously, you said it too.

And now here we are, you peacefully asleep while the night sky wheels overhead and I still hear the celebrations outside despite the ungodly hour. I’ll rejoin you in a moment, but I needed some time to attempt to process the last few days. What happened in the Tempest. The fact you’re alive, and healthy, and claim to love me in return.

I’m not entirely certain why, but I won’t complain, either.

Rereading these letters, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to hand them over yet. They’ll return to their box for now, and perhaps in a few days I’ll be ready to show you.

Aeryn laughed lightly; of course he had hesitated to share them. The letters showed all his vulnerabilities behind the serious, confident facade he had developed. And with everything in the Empty, and then Elidibus, it was no wonder the letters had fallen to the wayside.

Until her actual nameday on the Source had come around, his note delivered with her breakfast by Tataru per Thancred’s instructions while he was on his latest reconnaissance. It wasn’t as if he could have brought the letters with him, after all--nor given them to her in front of the rest of the Scions in the Ocular, nevermind how public their relationship was now.

She rubbed her face--she had cried more than a few times while reading--and replaced the letters in the box. She locked it, and pocketed the key.

The girls were still out so it was no trouble to take the tea service to the sink and clean it, along with the other dishes, giving her time and activity to settle. She finished by washing her own face, removing some evidence of her emotion.

Since the first year she had joined the Scions, they had given each other gifts; she had discovered his nameday from Minfilia, gifting him the orchestrion roll of a song she knew he liked from a favorite minstrel. Her own first nameday as a Scion had been missed due to Lahabrea and Baelsar’s schemes, but Thancred was certain to make up for it. Sometimes they were late, or even early, but they always managed a little something, even as friends.

Aeryn took the box with her as she left Ryne’s apartment. She still had a few people to see while here on the First--starting with Lyna and the messages from G’raha--but then she would retire to her own suite in the Pendants and do a bit of rereading.

And maybe a bit more once she returned home, too; after all, if she timed it right, it would still be her nameday, and the best time to reread her present.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Shadowbringers #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #Shippy Nonsense #Aeryn Striker #Pining

[boldly-ho]

Another Life - Chapter 17

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows 

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: E

Word Count: 1863

Chapter Summary: Stu finds out.

A/N: I won’t be posting next week, but I’ll be back to my normal schedule the week after. As always, cross-posted to AO3.

You woke up at a decent hour for once. Both exhausted from your nightmare and its accompanying fitful sleep, and out of a desire to avoid Deacon and Viago, you’d actually gone to bed early the previous night. For the first time in a while, you wouldn’t have to choose between eating either breakfast or lunch. Flatting with four vampires led to a lot of late nights.

Checking your phone, you found a number of texts from late last night. Petyr had sent you a loose apology for scaring you half to death when you woke him up. Viago sent a text asking if you were free next Friday for the drinking game night. You shot him a quick reply confirming your availability.

A third text was from an unknown number, received early this morning. You opened the message, reading, ‘Hey Y/N. This is Stu. I got your number from Deacon. Are you free for lunch today? I need to talk to you about something.’

You paused, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. For a brief moment you were filled with anxiety. Was Stu asking you out on a date? Not that there was anything wrong with Stu, of course, he just wasn’t your type, and you really didn’t want things to be weird. But no, that couldn’t be it. Thankfully. ‘I need to talk to you about something.’ That wasn’t a date, but it could be something bad, something serious. Was Stu in trouble? Your anxiety flared anew.

You drafted a reply. ‘Hey Stu. Lunch is fine. Does noon work? What do you need to talk about?’

His response was immediate. He ignored your question but confirmed for noon and sent you the address of a café. You thumbs-upped his text and set the phone aside, chewing on the inside of your lower lip in concern.

~

You struggled with your groceries, one paper bag in each arm. You were nearly running down the sidewalk. The condensation from the thawing ice cream was wearing the structural integrity of one of the bags, and you desperately wanted to make it back to the flat before the bottom inevitably gave out. You’d forgotten your reusable bags at home, and were now at the mercies of paper. And paper, apparently, had few mercies.

You felt the contents shifting, and further picked up your speed, probably looking quite ridiculous as you more or less sprinted down the street, clutching the disintegrating bags to your chest. It was all for naught, though, as the bottom of the bag gave out, spilling a carton of ice cream, a quart of milk, and a boatload of produce onto the pavement.

You let out a loud sigh of exasperation, startling a passerby.

You leaned against a wooden telephone post, surveying the damage before getting to work. You added what you could to the other bag, resigning yourself to cleaning all the produce immediately upon arriving home. You decided to carry the ice cream and milk in your hands, not wanting to damage the other bag with either weight or moisture.

Standing once again, with your groceries balanced somehow even more precariously than before, you resumed your trek home. Or, more accurately, you attempted to resume your trek home. Instead, you took a half a step, but were yanked back to the telephone pole by your pants. Awkwardly turning around with your arms full, you found that your pants were caught on a staple that was holding up one of the many posters covering the post.

You sighed, setting down your groceries again, and taking extra care not to tear your pants, or worse, de-pants yourself. Turning around as best you could, you began working at the staple. After a few minutes, and one near-catastrophe with a would-be splinter, you managed to work the staple loose from the post. Unfortunately, it was still stuck to your pants, now holding a poster to your backside. You tore the sheet of paper from yourself and decided to remove the staple from your clothing at home. You were about to crumple it up and toss it away when something about it grabbed your attention.

It was a missing person poster. A woman named Kura had gone missing over a year ago, and her family was willing to pay a hefty sum of money for any information leading to her safe return. While obviously sad, that hadn’t been what garnered your attention. It was the photograph, large and centered on the poster, that drew you in. The woman in the photo had bright, brown eyes, and a wide, happy smile. You’d never seen her before.

But you recognized her.

Had you known her? You reread the information on the poster. You couldn’t have known her. She was last seen just days after you moved out of your flat with Dawn. Unless you met her in that brief window of time. Would that be enough for you to remember her so viscerally, even now?

Unless, of course, you’d known her after she was ‘last seen.’

That thought chilled you.

What had you been involved in? Had she wound up in something shady? Had you? Or worse, had you been, even just partially, responsible for her having gone missing?

You couldn’t rule that horrifying possibility out.

You felt light-headed.

~

You sat alone at the café, anxiously drumming your fingers against the table. Checking your phone, you saw you there were still six minutes to go before you were supposed to meet. You looked to the door anyway, repeating this pattern for the next four minutes until Stu arrived two minutes early.

“Hi, Y/N,” he greeted, slightly redder than usual. Perhaps he had rushed here? “Have you ordered yet?”

“No. I was a little early, so I thought I’d wait for you.”

Gesturing behind himself towards the counter, he offered, “I can buy. What would you like?”

“No, no, I can buy my own,” you brushed off his generosity.

“I wanted to meet, and at the last minute. I can buy. What are you having?”

“Thank you. I’ll have a smoothie, and I’ve never been here, so whatever you recommend, I guess.”

“Sure thing.” Stu went up to the counter, placing the order and paying, before returning with his coffee, your smoothie, and two caprese melts.

“Thanks, Stu. So what’s up? Is everything alright?”

You bit into the caprese melt. Damn, Stu had good taste.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His tone did little to convince you that this was true. He’s stared down at his yet untouched sandwich. You waited for him to go on. If he was this insistent on meeting, you trusted he’d decide to share his thoughts eventually. When he spoke again, he said, “Nick told me about the whole vampire thing last night.”

You stopped mid-chew, swallowing almost too much sandwich. ‘The whole vampire thing.’ That was certainly a fitting name for it.

You looked up from your plate, eyes searching Stu’s face. What was he looking for here? Did he still need to figure out whether or not this was all actually true, or did he just need the companionship of another human stuck in this bizarre limbo between the real and the supernatural? Until you knew where he was at, there really wasn’t any way to go forward.

“And did you… believe him?”

Stu nodded quickly. “Yeah. He showed me, uh…” He faltered.

You nodded. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” You had only known Nick for a short period of time, but in that time you were able to discern that he’s quite the showboat. So, you were willing to venture a guess that his demonstration of vampirism was a bit less gentle than Vladislav’s. “Are you okay?” you asked Stu.

“Yeah. Just shaken.”

You offered him a small smile. “I can relate.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You get on with your flatmates so well, and you’ve known about this for longer than me, obviously. I thought it might be easier to talk to another human about this than with a- well, with Nick or one of the guys.”

You smiled wider, ready to play the part of expert even though you didn’t feel it. “What do you want to know?”

“Nick told me most of what I wanted to know. There were a few things I didn’t think of at the time, or just didn’t want to ask.” He paused before continuing. “How often do they have to… drink….?” He asked, struggling to chose the correct word.

“Eat,” you answered.

“Eat, then. How often do they do that?”

“It depends,” you replied, glad you had recently learned the answer to that one. “Nick eats pretty much everyday, but that’s only since he’s such a new vampire. He’ll eat less after a few years. Vladislav, Viago, and Deacon only eat a few times a week.”

Stu looked away, down toward his very vegetarian meal. You could guess how he was feeling.

Continuing, you said, “Petyr eats even less than that, like once or twice a month, though sometimes he eats small animals in between. I don’t know if that’s just due to his age, or what. I think he might be a different kind than the others, but I don’t really know.”

A woman walking past your table threw you an alarmed look, but you ignored her.

“Petyr?” Stu asked, confused.

“Oh, right! You’ve never met Petyr. He flats with us. He’s really old, like 8000 years or more. He looks really freaky, like Nosferatu-esque, but he’s a cool guy.”

“Like Nosferatu?” he repeated. He seemed dumbfounded, but you could hardly hold that against him. “So how old are the others then?”

“I don’t remember exactly.” You realized you should put their birthdays in your phone, and made a mental note to do so. “Vladislav is 800 something. Viago is over three hundred, closer to 400, maybe. And Deacon is 150 or 160 or something like that. And, obviously, you’d know Nick’s age better than me.”

“Right, yeah. How long have you known? About vampires?”

“Not long. I was just looking for a flat. I actually figured they were delusional and thought that they were vampires, but not that they actually were,” you laughed. “It was actually the day Nick got turned that I found out it was all real.”

Any sense of humor you’d just had quickly disappeared, and you forced down the rising urge to apologize to Stu for what happened to his friend. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t do anything to stop it. Those words were becoming a sort of mantra to you.

“Do you ever…” he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“Do I ever what?”

“No. Sorry. I shouldn’t pry. It isn’t really my business.”

“It’s fine. Pry away. You’re the only other human I know who’s in a similar situation.”

He smiled at you, and you returned the gesture. You supposed there were worse things to experience camaraderie over.

“Do you ever feel guilty?” he asked. “About the people they kill? Not that it’s your fault, or our faults, of course, I just-“

You interrupted him with your answer.

“Every day.”

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #vladislav #vladislav x reader #another life #al fic

[bow-woahh]

Spop Fic recs (Catradora)

(finally)

Hello Catradora trash can's today I finally give you what I've been promising for MONTHS - a fanfic rec list. Because, if you didn't already know, I read A LOT of Catradora fanfic, probably too much and although I'm definitely not the best judge of...anything, I really wanted to make this post, so here it is, weeks late.

(it's a long one though)

I’ve written my full opinions n shit on like the first 10 multi chapters and one shots because there’s a lot lol, and some I remember better than others (tbf I've re read all of them at this point), but yeahhh. For the others, I’ll describe it in less detail and a bit more jokily lol.

I'm sorry I haven't just linked all the fics bit I just want this to be out of my drafts loll, and I can assure you most of these are pretty easy to find, I apologise for the laziness though haha

Also I’ve tried to find the all the authors tumblr or other social media, but I couldn’t for all of them which sucks, so if you happen to be the author and I left you out, please comment :)

Anyway, Y'ALL NEED TO GET ON MY LEVEL SOOO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO HERE YOU GO:

(here's a key first)

Key:

(o) = ongoing

(f) = finished

[G]=General

[T] =Teen and up Audiences

[M]=Mature

[E]=Explicit

Multi-chapters:

1. Upper West Side by ceruleanstorm (o) 100,000+ words

@princessofgayskull

[Modern AU] [T]

This fic is so amazing!! It goes so deep into their psychology and past and damn is it hilarious at time. Also, I love the premise of it - Catra is a Uber driver and Adora ends up as her passenger. It's a fairly slowburn as it goes deep into the two girls' lives and really gives time for the relationship to develop naturally and that is honestly really appreciated because it makes the good moments between the two even better and more rewarding if I'm honest. A lot of angst though. All the other characters we know and love are also written amazingly in it too, and are made equally important. All in all, I love this fic and everything about it!

As of writing it has fairly infrequent updates, but each chapter is 10-20k+ words and has 9/12 chapters so...there’s a lot.

2. For my Sake by doublepasse (f) 100,000+ words

@doublepasse-writes

[Canon Compliant][E]

The story and world building is just - WOAH. This one is quite the slowburn but boy is it worth it. It's set a couple months to a year after season one, where Catra finally captures Adora but the tables turn very quickly when capturing her nearly results in her death, which Catra (unsurprisingly) didn’t want. The story has some BIG plot twists and is definitely one of the best canon universe Catradora fics I’ve ever read and the ending was very satisfying, but also open ended, BECAUSE there’s a part 2 coming and I couldn’t be more excited!

(Also, there is one chapter with nsfw content in it, but it has a sfw version)

3. Skinny Love by Maychup (o) 89,000+ words

@maychup

[Canon Compliant][M]

Another amazing fic that takes place in the canon universe that has such great world building, and is very plot heavy. It takes place days after the S1 finale and goes from there basically. The premise of it is similar to many fics and one shots you’ve probably read - sleeping with the enemy. From the first chapter it seemed like it could have easily been a five chapter easy redemption fic but nooooooo, it goes a lot LOT deeper. I feel like this fic did such a great job on character development, Catra’s specifically, she grows so much throughout the fic. She is also such a mother to all her Horde pals in this and I love that haha.

At the time of writing, it’s still ongoing, and boy am I excited to see where it goes. It’s also super angsty and has a fair-ish amount of smut so be warned!

4. The Heiress and The thief by Fuhadeza (f) 58,000+ words

@fuhadeza

[Regency AU][M]

As it says in the fic summary, it is literally the She-Ra regency AU I never knew I wanted likeeee, it’s so good! Premise - Adora is taken by Lady Brightmoon, leaving her boarding school, and her best friend behind, Catra, and everything is fine until her old friend face resurfaces. This one had me screaming at times (most of them did, but this especially). It was a really enjoyable read and I honestly loved the way the author dealt with love and the way Adora dealt with her feelings and just ahhh- read it.

5. Faded with feelings by yesimgay (f) 24,000+ words

[Roomates AU][T]

This fic. I read this a WHILEEE ago but to this day this is one of my favourite fan-fics ever like it’s hilarious, and fluffy and unproblematic and sometimes you need that tbh. Everything you need to know is established in the first chapter but the way it is done feels so natural, as if it’s just Adora‘s or Catra’s thoughts and I love it. Also the premise is GREAT - Catra has ADHD and smokes weed to help with it, and Adora accidentally takes an edible, which is when shenanigans start to ensue.

6. Dream of Me by DBsean (f) 18,000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Although it is on the shorter side with only five chapters, this was another fic that was so so good in quality and premise. For whatever reason, Catra and Adora start sharing dreams, enabling them to share moments together that they (unfortunately) can't have in real life, due to them being on opposite sides of the war, and in turn - enemies. The angst in this fic literally KILLED ME, and the characters dialogue is so good as well! I also recommend you check out some of the authors other fics, they're all great!

7. we've been making shades of purple out of red and blue by darklady21(o) 19,000+ words

[Roomates AU][M]

Another Roomates AU, bUT instead of being best friends, the two barely know each other, or interact at all...GREAT RIGHT?!? Honestly though, I think the author did a great job in making it not seem too rushed, especially in the setup and establishing how although they know each other, they DONT know each other, so the first couple chapters are basically that stage where they are learning more about each other and leaving stupid post it notes around the house, and it just feels so natural and great! Updates aren’t super regular, but there’s already nine chapters (as of writing) so definitely check it out, as well as their other works too!

8. Razorback by Starr_Reborn(o) 22,000+ words

[Canon Divergence AU][M]

Apparently, the author wrote this with the intent of it being fluffy. From the title you can tell that is NOT the case. At all. This one HURTS. This is very very angsty, and also has some themes of rape in it, so if that kinda thing triggers you I might wanna skip out on this one. It is a really good fic though and stands out from a lot of the others because of the way it is written. Chapters aren’t usually longer that 1000 words and the writing style is quite disjointed at times, and it a lot of the time a stream of consciousness. At times it can even be a little confusing or hard to follow, but I find it makes it even more interesting, and also means it will probably be a fic I come back to once completed. It is genuinely so unpredictable, I have no clue where it’s going, but I really love it for that!

9. Sunflower by TechnoSkittles (f) 6000+ words

@technoskittles

[High School AU][G]

Oh, BOY. Oh boyyy. This fic - it's 8 chapters and only 6000 words yet the story is just- Ahhh READ IT. It's so good! And like the author in general is so amazing at writing like check out all their works (especially their latest one shot omg I loved it). Anyway, read this, it's not too long, it's cute and also genuinely surprising, the ending was not something I saw coming AT ALL, so YEAH!

10. I like me better when I'm with you by lesbians_harold(f) 22,000+ words

@lesbians-harold

[High School AU][T]

Just a nice, fun, fluffy high school, friends to lovers AU. Catra moves to Adora’s school senior year and the twos friendship is quickly rekindled, after a rocky start albeit. Adora is a big ol’ jock and Catra draws which is a headcanon I LOVE. It’s written so well, and the characters are also written well too! It is a lil angsty at times, but not to worry - but it does pay off, I assure you.

11. I thought we were best friends by vanilla107 (o) 45,000+ words

@vanilla107

[University AU][T]

Breakups. Lots of breakups, and angst. This one will mend your heart then hurt you. BE SCARED. But go read it. I mean it. It's good!

12. Dirty Dancing by LilLegalLoli94 (o) 9000+ words

@lillegalloli94

[Dancing AU][M]

Basically lots of (sexual) tension after years of not seeing each other because Adora moved to Brightmoon Dance Academy. It's good. Real good.

13. Back to Black by eveynull (f) 6000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Post War) Gays go and visit their past, staring angst, and featuring your favourite co-star - fluff!

14. how things are supposed to be by maggiesbombshell (o) 11,000+ words

@yeunslegacy

[High School AU][M]

A jolly slowburn that will hurt your soul because (internalised) homophobia and gay.

15. Some things you don't see coming by Trashibesensei (o) 20,000+ words

[High School AU][T]

Adora being a big ol' jock, and Catra being a big ol' gay. I’m not even gonna explain it, you have to find that out yourself.

16. A quarter after three by Maychup (o) 11,000+ words

@maychup

[Youtuber AU][M]

Adora's gay panic settles in when she bumps into her childhood bestie, Catra, live streaming in the streets of LA. My favourite part of this fic has to be the YouTube comments she gets. This one will make you laugh. And go AWWW CUTE.

17. A Song to My Heart by DemiRebel (f) 8000+ words

[Neighbors AU][G]

The cute girl next door keeps singing loud, and it sounds BELLE, so what else would you do other than creepily listen?? 10/10 for premise.

18. Occupied by Nny11 4000+ words

@nny11writes

[Modern AU][T]

The most hilarious soulmate AU I've read tbh. One word - bathrooms.

19. Whispering Dreams by dragonesdepapel (f) 7400+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Adora finds a wounded and sick gay so obviously, she helps her out, much to her protesting. This fic will honestly make you go through the five stages of grief. Big ol' oof.

20. Why you SHOULD bring in your untrained cat to the rebellion by locuas (f) 6800+ words

[Canon Divergence AU][G]

This fic is a literal joke. But it will probably be the best crack you will ever read, so. READ IT.

ALSO HERES A LIL SELF PWOMO OF MY MULTI CHAP:

What drove her insane, 13,000+ words (f)

One shots:

1. hang tight (all you) by TechnoSkittles 9000+ words

@technoskittles

[High School AU][T]

This is a fic that will break your heart and mend it. It's about Adora coming to terms with her sexuality throughout high school in a pretty unsupportive environment, added onto the fact she has a crush on her best friend. It's paced so well, nothing feels rushed and although it's only 9000 words, it manages to flesh out characters that aren't even in the show, and it obviously does a great job with the topic at hand - sexuality and homophobia. Like it honestly touched my heart, reading it I genuinely wanted to cry. I loved everything about it, from the moment it started to the last line. It's just written in a way that is probably relatable to so many people who are or have struggled with coming to terms with themselves, and shows how for some it's really not an easy thing. It's also written beautifully, and I PROMISE you won't regret reading this! Definitely check out some more of their works too, they're all great reads!

2. you're my favorite song (and it's stuck in my head) by artemiswords 16,000+ words

@artemisbye 

[High School AU][T]

A belle valentine's day fan fic which I just,, ahhhhh this is some of the best 16k words I've ever read, it's so nice and fluffy! Premise - Catra has to take the bus to school, and ends up sitting next to this cute girl on the bus, Adora, and listening to TayTay (Swift), sharing earphones with this complete stranger. Obviously, Catra develops a crush, but she is sure Adora is straight. It's written so well, and is such an enjoyable read, with so many great moments and dialogue. Music is a very prevalent theme (which you can tell from the name tbh) in it, and the amount of song references in it also make it feel so fleshed out in a way, like their both just teenagers with somewhat questionable music taste. Just all the exchanges they have are great, especially the ones over text and social media, there were so many funny moments too. DEFO, recommend if you wanna read something nice and lighthearted!

3. The Interlude That Never Ends by FMLClexa 2000+ words

Twitter: catrxs

[Historical AU] [M]

Angst. Quite angsty. But also fairly fluffy, it has a good balance. And the writing style is just so - it gets your heart wrenching despite being fairly short, and is also very poetic, and I don't know about you, but I love things like that! The fic is a historical/soulmates AU where they are bound to fall in love, no matter the period they're reincarnated in. It's one of the most creative fic ideas I've ever read, and the concept is executed so well, which makes it even better. And it's, so so damn sweet ahh, read it read it READ IT!

4.  is there a knife in your bed or are you just happy to see me? by ceruleanstorm 6000+ words

@princessofgayskull

[Canon Universe][T]

This fic was everythinggg, it is so cute, like it’s basically 6k words of fluff! Also, if you didn’t already notice, the title (and the fic) heavily references the fact Adora keeps a knife under her bed (I DIED when that happened in s2).  Set post war, Catra sneaks away from her post to visit an overworked and stressed Adora in Bright Moon and cuteness ensues. I honestly just love everything about this fic, we need more fluffy and funny fics like this! The dynamic the two have in this is perfect and the dialogue and general writing style of it is great! And Adora’s internal dialogue in this honest to god had me dead. Needless to say this is one of my fav Canon Universe one shots.

5.Girl’s Become Lovers (Who Turn Into Mothers) by A_Zap 2000+ words

@azapofinspiration

[Canon Universe][G]

This has to be one of the cutest, well written, fic I’ve read! Catra brings home the only survivors from a tragedy her and Scorpia stumbled upon, but one thing Adora doesn’t expect is for them to be children. The,, emotions in this are so raw and powerful. Even though they obviously have these new little people in their life though, their problems don’t just go away, they still have their own issues, and have to deal with them while looking after these kids. In general they handle mental health so well, and Shadow Weavers lasting effect on Catra SHOWS and it shows hard. Honestly, it made me want to cry at some parts and the ending was EVERYTHING, so reAd IT.

6. baby, i'm a house on fire (and i wanna keep burning) by wittchers 7000+

@huremsultan

[Medival AU]

A really fun fic to read, with a very original premise: after the Horde defeats the kingdom Bright Moon, Hordak is crowned, Queen Angella was killed, and Princess Glimmer is missing, which leaves Lady Adora forced into an arranged marriage with Lord Catra, to keep her people happy. Obviously, being an arranged marriage, with her enemy, she ain’t too happy about it, nor is Catra. But they have to put up with it, and each other. Honestly, like the development of their relationships is sooo good, and there is the perfect balance e of angst and fluff (if you can call it that?) so don’t worry it won’t kill you! Like ahh, the emotions in this - so well described with so little words. And the ending is great, in general it’s great!

7. Adora Casts: Zone of Truth by Hemogobbler 2000+ words

@hemogobbler69

[Canon Universe][T]

Literally just 2000 words of utter cuteness and hilarious dialogue haha. Premise - Catra has just defected recently, and is still warming up to Adora, is still slightly shut off from her. So, to try remedy this, she gets a truth serum from Madame Razz, and slips it into their food, leading to them talking honestly about their feelings for the first time in a while. I just love it so much because I feel like this is genuinely something Adora would do, and also something I’d probably do in her situation - Catra opening up is a rare occurrence! Also, as I said, their are some really funny, laugh out loud moments, which out of context are so weird, yet somehow manage to make a lot of sense. Anyway, if you just had a bad day, I think this fic would definitely lift your spirits.

8. bloom by kimah 4000+ words

Twitter: whitehotmoons

[Modern AU][G]

A post break up fan fic where Catra's therapist suggests Catra write down her feelings, which leads her to write the things she hates about Adora, and their interactions they've had since their break up. The way it's written is so... angsty but like, not? I'm bad at this. Literally, reading this I really felt Catra's pain, and I just wanted to give her a hug at times. Adora too. The small details the author outs into the characters makes the characters all that more realisitic too, and I love it! Seriously though, the angst, will, get, you.

9. I do adore by thankskelley 6000+ words

Twitter: cosmicsporks

[Modern AU][G]

A Catradora fake dating AU. Is there anything more you need in life? Catra and Adora are are roomates, and one day, Adora bursts in, saying she finally came out to her parents, and also that her parent had assumed they are dating... leading her to ask if Catra could pretend to be her girlfriend for while. What could possibly go wrong? Hmm?? I've always loved the whole fake dating premise (to all the boyss) and with characters like Adora and Catra, (especially Catra like she is a TEASE) I always thought it'd be great. Who doesn't love oblivious gays? Their dynamic in this is also great, especially all the flirting and teasing. BUT, of course, it also a bit angsty too. I can promise you you'll love it!

10. Chocolate and Roses vs. Heartache by Trashibesensei 9000+ words

[High School AU][T]

Another high school AU...I know I have a problem leave me alone. This time, if you couldn’t tell by the title, there’s some heartache involved, because: this Valentines Day, Adora doesn’t spend it with her best friend (now ex bestie) Catra. Even despite her popularity that she now has due to being the star player of Bright Moon’s soccer team, she can’t shake of how much she yearns for her old friend. Somehow, even with all the angst, it is still sO fucking FUNNY, the way Mermista was written was great, and she had some of THE best lines. But yeah, it’s so pure and just - Catra needs a hug, Adora needs a hug, they need to hug EACH other tbh! It had a very nice and hopeful message, and also kinda surprised me with the end.

11. someone you like by caela 5000+ words

[High School AU][T]

As a gen z, or x, or whatever the fuck I am, I always appreciate a fic where the characters say stupid shit over Instagram to their crushes which results it getting a date to prom. Although I can assure you that would never happen to me. But this So FUCKING cute and funny so READ.

12. this is what it's like when we collide (this is how you bring me back to life) by azul (7daysoftorture) 5000+ words

@bluelipgloss

[Canon Universe][G]

This galaxy brain fic is amazing and that’s ThE TEA. Catra gets a wish stone from Hordak and we all knowww, WHO she (subconsciously) craves - Adora, which obviously leads to hell breaking loose, because, disaster gays. Anyway read this it’s great and made me feel forget about the cruel world we live in.

13. Five Times Catra was a Cat and One Time the Cat was Catra by sunscreams 2400+ words

@catradoramma

[Canon Universe][T]

A BELLE, well written 5 + 1 which is just pure fluff (some hurt/comfort too) and Catra being Catra (so a loveable pain in the ass) after joining Adora in Bright Moon.

14. Vital Signs by SereneKarma 2000+ words

@serene-karma

[Modern AU][G]

Like a dumbass Catra breaks her leg and gets put in hospital, but hey - it’s okay as long as she’s got a cute nurse to look after her! It’s pretty funny just based on the concept alone so read ThIs BiSh.

15. You put the cracks into my moral code by Littleamethystc 3000+ words

@littleamethystc

[Gang AU][T]

Catra is a hotshot mafia member, Glimmer and Bow are the PoPo, and Adora is underestimated as HELL. It’s also pretty funny, like the whole concept is just perfect, so check it out!

16. The Best Gift I Could Ever Ask For by blueninjasharpshooter 1500+ words

[Modern AU][G]

Just a short n sweet fic of Adora celebrating her birthday which she forgot, and also Adora has a pocket knife in her boot, which is so accurate lmaooo. As well as having the most accurate character portrayals, AWWWWwwwww, was my reaction to the end of this fic, so read it to find out wHY.

17. but i still don’t wish death on ‘em (i just reflect on ‘em) by ayushi_writes 1500+ words

@ayushipop

[Canon Universe][G]

(Post S1) A year after the battle of Bright Moon, Adora and Catra are standing on a cliff, and Catra finally has a chance to end it all. But WilL she?!?!  Let’s just say, Catradora are the queens of promises.

18. Whiskey and Eggnog by briony8969 3500+ words

@briony8969

[Modern Christmas AU][G]

A cute Christmas fic where a nervous Adora goes home for the first time in months with her new friends from college, scared of what they’ll think but more scared of a certain SOMEONE she hasn’t spoken to in months. So basically: sexual tension gAlore.

19. She's a Regular by BaronVonChop 1500+ words

@baronvonchop

[Coffee Shop AU][G]

Adora is gay. Catra is gay. Catra works at a coffee shop (badly), and Adora goes to said coffee shop soo much, that it gets on her friends nerves, coz she very obviously likes to flirt with a Catra. It’s funny too. That’s it. That’s the fic and I love it.

20. Hand in Hand, We Make Our Way to The End by thethirdphiladelphiavireo 6500+ words

[Canon Universe - Soulmate AU][T]

Catra and Adora figure out they are soulmates after years of not knowing what it meant, but OBVIOUSLY, cannot communicate like mature humans, because - same.

21. How Do You Tell A Girl You Really Like Her Eyes? by Gay_Panic 1000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Pre Canon)Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, a very gay, very wholesome, very nice first kiss fic. They are very gay for each other in this one, they don’t even care if KYLE catches them kissing.

22. Tender Moments by yesimgay 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

(Post-war) Catra still feels guilty about everything she did to Adora in the past, so instead of sleeping at the foot of the bed as usual , she decides to sleep next to Adora...So there’s fluff, lots of fluff, and it is very tender.

23. Perfectly intertwined by dragonesdepapel 2000+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

On Catra’s first official day in Bright Moon, Adora drags her to a festival and they do cute things and it’s cute, and you should defo read it.

24. a girl without freckles is like a sky without stars by dear_universe 900+ words

@catralovesgirls

[Canon Universe][G]

More bed sharing because I CANNOT help myself, I love fics like these! Catra can’t sleep without Adora on her first night at the rebellion, so, she knocks on Adora’s door and things go from there.

25. Something to remember you by by DBsean 3000+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

Adora sneaks back into the fright zone in attempt to retrieve something, when Catra catches her. It’s cute af. Despite the circumstances.

26. Skiffs & Ships by mysteryinc 900+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

(Pre-show) Just two gals being pals who missed each other a fuck ton while on separate missions. It’s pretty cute.

27. Starstruck by InvisiblePinkToast 2500+ words

@invisible-pink-toast

[Canon Universe][G]

(Pre-show) A lil bit of angst, and nightmares, and a little bit of fluff, Stargazing and bed sharing - what more could you need?

28. a truth so loud you can't ignore by adverbialstarlight 2500+ words

@adverbialstarlight

[High School AU][T]

Catra ignores the growing feelings she has for her best friend, until the truth is so loud she can’t ignore it (see what I did there?) But for real tho this fic really gave me angst that hurt my soul then fluff that healed it, so we StAN.

29. Horde kids are just Like That by gerti 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Canon Divergence) What would happen if when Adora defected the Horde, her and  Catra where still girlfriends? Read this to find out because it’s FUCKING hilarious lmaoooo, like it’s so absurd but somehow still makes perfect sense.

30. The First Step by oldmountainsoul 2900+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Post S1) Apologies which end in getting shoved out off trees are now exclusively for the Catradora fandom only.

31. (You’re My) Haven by giraffewrites 400+ words

@giraffewrites

[Canon Universe - Pre Canon][G]

(Pre-Canon) Adora only kisses Catra when she thinks she’s asleep, but my girl Catra ain’t playing no more so one night she just goes in for the KILL, Aka, cute dorks just being cute dorks.

32. Beyond the Screen by SereneKarma 5000+ words

@serene-karma

[Youtuber AU][G]

If you can't tell I really like YouTuber AU's. Catra being the angsty gal she is starts a YouTube channel to rant about her old best friend who practically vanished when she was 15, and her viewers (who definitely have no life) end up finding her.

33. come on, sugar, don't you leave early by thesqian 1500+ words

Twitter: @crnkgmeplys

[Modern AU][G]

Two gays at a gay wedding, who clearly have some shit going on, but it’s okay because gay weddings always bring gays together. I said gay a lot in that sentence. Read the fic, it’s short n sweet and cute, so you can’t go wrong!

34. but we could never stay away (from each other) by adorassword 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Catra and Adora have a nice, not so nice chit chat on Adora’s balcony late at night, - these two need LOVE, and I needed a hug after reading this coz damn. Damn.

35. bad ideas by ranpoandpoe 1000+ words

[University AU][T]

How we all wish thinking about your crush at 2am would go. That’s the only context I’m giving, so READ IT.

Also, here are some of my fav one shots I’ve written:

Two Sides Of The Same Coin 1000+ words

[Gang AU][T]

If I was perfect 2500+ words

[Modern AU][T]

And check out my Catradora week series, however my fav is:

damn you, unrequited love 7000+ words

[Modern/Sixth Form AU][T]

Here are some more series packed with fics that I’ve really enjoyed too!

Catradora Oneshots by clicheusername5678 @hey-adora

Catradora Tumblr Prompts BY sunscreams @catradoramma

if I grind my teeth at night, would you hear it? By poetroe

in the bottom of a coffee cup  + pieces by inkwelled (their stuff is great)

Twitter: adorascatrq

Anyway, I hope you guys appreciate this, it took quite a while lol. I had a lot of fun making it, and I hope you check out some of the fics on the list (maybe all if you're a crazy mf)

Until next time (:

#micah n spop #spop #she-ra #she ra and the princesses of power #catradora #fic recs #micahs fic recs #micahs recs #adora #catra #spop catra #spop adora #fan fics #she ra netflix #i ship

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 24

Relationship: Cassian Andor / Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Strong language, Heavy drinking, Mentions of torture and death, Mention of animal death

Size: 8000 words

---

Cassian had a day off. Well, most of a day off.

He’d come back to base late at night and was debriefed right away, as was routine. He managed to get into bed before sunrise though, and to fall asleep pretty quickly, so he woke up well rested a few hours later. He didn’t usually sleep much. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept the whole night without being sedated. Even when he was by Cora’s side and he managed to relax, he would still only sleep a few hours at a time. This was just one of the downsides of living as a soldier.

On paper, he had the day off. But he still had so many things to do, and he couldn’t waste a whole day doing nothing anyway. So he got dressed in his usual attire and headed to the hangar to do some much needed repairs to his ship.

He always looked through the med bay glass doors whenever he passed it, hoping to catch a passing glimpse of Cora’s silhouette. At this hour, she’d usually be looking out the window with a cup of hot caf in her hands, if there was no emergency. This time, he didn’t see her. The med bay was quiet, with no one but a med droid in sight.

He considered going in. He didn’t have a reason to, but he could always find an excuse and Cora would be thrilled to be able to scan him and lecture him about his health. The thought made him smile. Or he could actually be honest for once and tell her he just dropped by to say ‘hi’. Because he’d missed her. Of course, it could very well be Doctor Crane’s shift, but he’d just ask for some bacta patches and chat until she would come in for her shift.

Yes, that’s what he would do, he thought to himself as he took a few determined steps towards the glass doors, only to see Doctor Aidan Veltz coming out of one of the consultations rooms. This wasn’t something he’d anticipated. Cassian did a 180 hoping that the doctor hadn’t noticed him, almost crashing into Doctor Crane.

“Good morning, Cassian,” the doctor said, grabbing his elbow so he couldn’t flee. “Are you alright? Were you coming to see me?”

“No, no. I’m alright,” he said, smiling under the doctor’s inquiring gaze. “Honestly,” he felt like he had to add, as if that ever proved anyone’s innocence. “I was just…” His voice trailed at the end, and he seemed a little embarrassed. After all, how could he tell Doctor Crane that he was only there hoping to talk to Cora before he went about his day?

“Ah, so you were only paying us a visit, I see,” he said, and Cassian just shrugged. “Well, she’s taken a couple of days off. You won’t find her in the infirmary today.”

Cassian could feel his ears starting to burn but nodded in acknowledgement. The doctor had always been able to read him like an open book, so there was no point denying anything. He only wondered how long he’d known about it.

But he was also a little surprised. As far as he knew Cora had never taken a day off of her own accord, and even when she was forced to take one she would still find ways to come back to work. So this was a little bit odd. But it was too early to get worried.

“Is she alright?” he asked the doctor anyway. He had no idea what might have happened while he was away.

“As far as I know.” Doctor Crane didn’t seem worried, so that was a good sign. “She said she needed a couple of days off for personal reasons and I was happy to let her take a break. She works too much. Just like you,” he said, pointing a finger at Cassian.

“I have a day off too,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“And what do you plan to do with it?”

“Work on my ship.”

“See, that’s what I’m saying.” Doctor Crane shook his head before heading for the med bay. “It’s okay to take a break from time to time, Cassian. Learn to unwind.”

“I will,” Cassian assured him. “But I’ve got some things to sort out first.” He said goodbye and walked to the elevators.

So Cora wasn’t working that day. That wasn’t such a bad thing. For once they had a day off at the same time. He considered taking the elevator down to pay her a visit. She would probably still be asleep, but he had the access code to her quarters, especially for situations like this.

She’d given it to him so he’d be able to let himself in whenever he wanted, when she might be asleep or in the shower or just wouldn’t hear him knock. At first, he was reluctant to just barge in like that, but then he figured that if she trusted him with it, she must really want him there. So he would gently knock on her door and if she wouldn’t reply he’d just let himself in, discard his clothes on the floor and silently crawl in bed next to her, making as little noise as possible. She’d always grumble in the morning that he should have woken her up, but he loved the look on her face when she opened her eyes and realized he was besides her.

But in the end he changed his mind and headed for the hangar. He wanted her to rest properly, and he still had some things that he really needed to do that morning. He knew that if he went by her side right now, it would be twice as hard to leave and do his job, so he decided he’d just hurry and finish everything and drop by later. Maybe he’d do something nice for her. He could cook and they could go out somewhere to eat, away from the constant buzz of the base. Yeah, they could do that.

Cassian was whistling quietly when he climbed into his ship. K2 followed him with a curious gaze. “I see you’re in a good mood today,” K said, taking out a toolkit.

“Maybe I am,” Cassian said, plopping down in the pilot seat.

“We still have to repair the shields,” the droid let him know, going into the back of the ship. He didn’t seem to share his good mood.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Unfortunately, fixing the ship took way longer than he expected, even with the help from a couple of mechanics. Cassian’s good mood had officially vanished before noon along with the prospects of spending the whole day with Cora on a nice picnic. He kept stealing glances towards the ER hoping that she would show up at some point. He’d hammered his own hand in a moment of carelessness, so he wouldn’t mind if she’d take care of it.

No matter how much he looked he wouldn’t see her. Lewella and the others had come out to eat lunch in front of the ER, but she didn’t show up even then. This was out of the ordinary, since Cassian knew she would never skip the opportunity to spend some time with Lew, since they had so little time to spend together anyway. Unless she was sick or something had happened. He started to worry.

But no matter how concerned he was and how much he wanted to just drop everything and run to find her, he couldn’t leave until the job was done. He got mad and cursed and hit the ship with his boot, but he was stuck there until they managed to fix it.

When he finally bolted out of the hangar, sweaty and smeared in engine oil, it was already late afternoon. He glanced through the ER doors: everyone was working, but there was no sign of Cora, so he headed to her quarters. He punched in the code without bothering to knock beforehand, pushed by the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

The door opened to reveal an empty room. He turned on the lights and looked around: the bed was made, the room was clean, there was no sign of anything being wrong, except that Cora wasn’t there. He stood in the middle of the room, trying to pull himself together.

Of course she wouldn’t be there, he thought, laughing at himself, it was late afternoon on her day off, there was no way she’d spend it all sleeping in her room, waiting for him. She wouldn’t even know he was back on base. Yeah, of course. Especially since she wasn’t ill or anything. He’d just have to find her.

He left the underground and went straight for the ER. If anyone would know where to find Cora it was Lew. Not that he wouldn’t be able to track her on his own, but he was tired and cranky and he wasn’t afraid to ask a friend for help. Even one that would smile cheekily and look at him all knowingly from the crate she was currently perched upon.

“You should be the one to know,” she said over her sandwich. “You’re the one who’s dating her.”

Cassian frowned when he heard the word dating. It sounded so mundane it almost frightened him. He never used it in his head when he referred to Cora and himself, but now that he thought about it, there was no word he used to refer to their relationship. He was the sort of man that didn’t like to use big words especially when he felt like there was no need to use any words at all.

“I’ve been away for days in case you haven't noticed,” he said, a little more snappy than he intended.

“Oh, so that’s why my complexion cleared, I stopped getting headaches, I had an appetite once again…”

“Lew…”

“I’m joking, you grump,” she huffed. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her today. She’s probably working,” she said, thinking hard and counting something on her fingers. “I think she’s working today. Have you checked the med bay upstairs?”

“No, not yet,” Cassian lied. If Cora had taken a day off and hadn't told Lew she must have had her reasons and he wasn’t going to rat her out. But that only made him more worried. Cora was usually pretty predictable, but now it seemed like she might have something to hide. Or, of course, it was possible that he was overthinking it.

“Check there. I’m pretty sure it’s her shift today. And bring her some food if you go up, she might have forgotten to eat, as always,” she said, munching on her sandwich.

“Yeah, I will.” Too bad his plans to actually cook something nice for her had been spoiled. But he could always fix her a sandwich. He was sure she’d be excited for that too.

“What kind of boyfriend are you if you don’t even know her shifts?” Lew mumbled, biting into her sandwich.

His heart skipped a beat. “I’m not her boyfriend,” Cassian scoffed. The word sounded weird rolling off his tongue.

“What are you then?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and fidgeting around nervously. It wasn’t a topic he was comfortable talking about. “We are what we are.”

“Poetic. Have you talked to her about it?”

“No? What is there to talk about?”

“There comes a time in any relationship when you have to start talking to each other.”

“We are talking.” Cassian sounded exasperated. He didn’t like where this was going. Not only was Lewella looking at him like he was an idiot, he also felt like one.

“But you’re both avoiding the important things. Like talking about your relationship and where you want it to go.” There was a harshness to her words that he hadn’t heard in a long time, so he let out a shaky breath and leaned on the crate next to her.

“I have no idea where it’s going,” he said, shrugging. “We’re going with the flow for now.”

“Does she have any say in that?” Cassian frowned, looking at her like she’d just thrown cold water in his face. “Have you thought that maybe she’s not content with just ‘going with the flow’.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say. No, he’d never thought about that. He always considered that if there was something she didn’t like she’d let him know. She always voiced her dissatisfaction. “She didn’t say anything like that.”

“I think you’d be the one to know that people don’t always talk about their feelings openly. I mean, look at you…”

“Did she say anything to you?” Now he was really worried. It was something he didn’t even consider, or rather knew he had to do, but delayed it indefinitely, because they both seemed content with how things were going. “Did you talk about this?”

“A little,” Lewella admitted, and Cassian’s stomach constricted painfully. “She is just as scared as you are. And confused. And very reluctant to put a label to your relationship, and to be honest I think that stems from a fear that you might react to that the exact way you’re reacting now…”

“How am I reacting?” Cassian asked, confused and a little defensive, crossing his arms.

“You’ve prickled like a cactus,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning upwards, but not in a smile. “And that frown is threatening to split your face in two.” Cassian passed his fingers over his forehead in an attempt to smooth the skin. “Don’t bother,” she snorted. “Anyway, it’s just speculation on my part. I might be reading too much into this, but it won’t do no harm opening your mouth and talking about it. It will clear up a lot of confusion and you will see that it will help in the long run.”

“What’s the point in putting a label on a relationship anyway?” He was getting restless. He didn’t like this conversation one bit.

“It’s not about a label here, Cassian, it’s about clearing the confusion. It’s about stating your intentions and making sure you’re on the same page. Listen,” she continued, when Cassian opened his mouth to say something, “no one says that you have to start calling her ‘future wife’— although considering how much time you’ve been spending in her bed I think it’s safe to say that you’ve moved from casual fucking to something a lot more committed.”

He laughed nervously, trying to hide his embarrassment. “How could you possibly know?”

“I have direct view to the elevators,” she said, pointing in their direction. “And eyes to see. You’ve been sleeping in her bed more than you’ve been sleeping in your own bed. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but you’ve got to accept that it’s gone past a casual fuck with no strings attached.”

Cassian was getting more tense. Up until then, Lew had teased him about his relationship with Cora, but always avoided getting into the heavy stuff and he was really thankful for that, because he wanted to avoid talking about feelings for as long as possible. But it seemed that his free pass had ended, because Lewella was in full blown lecture mode.

“I know you’re scared of commitment, I understand, trust me,” she continued, her voice softening considerably, “but you’ve got to do this. For her sake, if you don’t care about yourself because you’re a ‘manly man who don’t do feelings’.”

“I’m not scared of commitment,” he said, kicking a small rock with his boot and watching it roll on the stone floor. “It’s just that…” His voice was weak, mirroring the uncertainty in his soul. “I might not be here tomorrow. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep, I don’t wanna give anyone false hope.” His voice trailed off at the end.

“Then don’t make any promises,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “None of us know what will happen tomorrow, hell, most of us won’t make it. But we still have today. And there’s no reason to suffer today for what might happen in the future.”

Cassian still looked down, drawing on the floor with the tip of his boot. “I guess you’re right,” he said, but even that sounded unsure. “It’s just all so complicated.”

“Hey! I know talking about feelings is a scary thing, but nothing worth fighting for comes easy,” she said, folding the now empty sandwich wrapper and throwing it in the trash.

“What did you say?” He has the feeling he’d heard this before, but it was a vague memory.

“Nothing worth fighting for comes easy,” she repeated, a little more pronounced this time. “And we’re allowed to hope, remember that. Otherwise why the fuck would we even be here? Hope is all we’ve got. Hope is what all this shit is built upon,” she said lifting her hands to point around her.

Cassian glanced at her as she jumped off the crate. She had a sad smile on her face as she looked in the distance. He’d rarely seen her like that, usually the first one to break into laughter or turn to banter, now she looked really serious and maybe a bit melancholic.

“Don’t think too much, Cassian, I feel you overthinking already,” she said, crossing her arms. “You don’t have to put any labels on anything, you just need to be honest and you know, open up a little and let her know how much you care. That’s not gonna ruin your image, trust me. Maybe a little, but I promise to not tell anyone, scout’s honor,” she said, placing a hand on her chest and Cassian couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now stop sitting around and go find your girlfriend before the poor girl starves to death. Tell her I said ‘hi’.”

“Yeah, I will.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and straightened his back.

They spent a couple more minutes chatting in front of the med bay before Lew had to go back to work. They didn’t talk as often as they used to anymore and he missed her sometimes. Although he wasn’t the most sociable person ever, he still loved his friends. The same war that brought them together was also keeping them apart.

When he took off to find Cora he was a lot less enthusiastic than before. He knew deep down that he’d one day have to talk to her about their relationship, but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. Sometimes—rarely—he daydreamed of a future where he wouldn’t be alone but he’d always imagined something like that happening at a point in his life when he had some sort of stability. He never thought he’d meet someone in the middle of the war and get so attached that he’d actually consider allowing himself to hope of a future spent with them. No, he was too careful to let that happen. Too closed off, too guarded. And yet…

Lewella had been right: he had to talk to her. While he was used to living in uncertainty, he knew not everyone was. He needed to let her know how much he cared because he knew he wasn’t the most open person in the world, and she deserved honesty. Now that Lew forced him to think about it, he really didn’t want to risk leaving things unsaid, just in case he’d never come back. But at the same time, he didn’t want to get her hopes up, for the same reason.

He looked for her in the mess hall first. It was busy, but not incredibly so. He couldn’t spot her anywhere, so he went up to the infirmary. He looked around for her as discreetly as he could and when he once again convinced himself she wasn’t there, went back to check her quarters.

There was no note anywhere, no indication where she might have gone. He knew, he checked twice. Her casual clothes were missing, but nothing else as far as he could tell. He sat on her bed, trying to figure out what to do next. He could always contact her on her comm. Cassian hated using it, and he never used it for private matters, especially with Cora since he knew full well that every call would be recorded, filed, listened to and interpreted. And she seemed to distrust it just as much as he did, so they never contacted each other by comm. But he knew that all medical personnel were required to always have their comlinks on hand, in case there was any kind emergency.

He decided to contact her. It would be the fastest way to find her and he knew how to make the call sound innocent so no one listening in would suspect there was something going on between them. He wondered what would happen if they did. He’d get yelled at by Draven, but that was nothing new, and in the end there wouldn’t be any punishment for it. They weren’t doing anything wrong.

He fished out his comlink and contacted her. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the comm beeping from inside the closet. He found it in the pocket of her medical uniform. That was unusual. He knew she carried it around even when she wasn’t working, as was protocol. Why did she decide to leave it in her room this time?

Leaving her quarters, he had more questions than answers. Until then he hadn't really thought she might be missing, now he knew there was a high chance it might actually be so. She still had the tracker bracelet, hopefully, but he didn’t want to have to bring this to the attention of his superiors, unless there was no other choice. He was willing to bet she wouldn’t just get up and leave one day without a word. Without telling him. Or at least he hoped with all his heart. But what if something had happened? Something he hadn’t been able to forsee.

He was trying hard to focus, but was still pretty disoriented when he reached his floor. He needed to calm down, move fast and think. He cursed himself for being this incompetent, but he could feel panic slowly rising from the depths of his own being. He had to think of all the possible places where she could be. Cargo, she could have gone searching for something down there. He could check the logs, but she might have been let in unofficially, so there would be no record. Training grounds—maybe she was trying to train on her own, she’d been doing that since the assessment, but he would have seen her pass his ship. She would have known he was back, and didn’t think she wouldn’t drop by to say hello. He hoped. Maybe she just left for a stroll in the forest, although she was afraid of it. Either way, he was willing to search every square foot of the base and jungle to find her.

A knock on the med bay glass wall made him snap out of his thoughts and look. Doctor Crane was pointing a finger towards the door that lead to the platform outside. Of course! He almost slapped himself for his stupidity. That was the one place that was really easy to check and he’d just forgotten about it. As if both of them hadn’t used it so many times before to clear their heads of simply to get some air. He thanked the doctor with a nod and headed towards the door.

It was a windy day, but it was pretty sunny. Well, the clouds would occasionally break and let the sun through, but that was more sun that usual. At least it was a pleasant change from the constant, nagging rain.

Cora was sitting on the stone platform, leaning on the wall, her back turned to the door. She was looking in the distance and didn't seem to notice him joining her, right until he sat down next to her. She seemed startled by his presence for a short moment, but then her face broke into a smile when she recognized him.

“Well hello there, Captain,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Didn’t think I’d see you here. Come here often?” She was swaying a little as she rested her open palms on his chest. She was drunk.

“Often enough,” he said, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders. Her eyes were glassy and red, like she’d been crying. A shiver ran down his spine, trying to figure out what might have driven her to this. “What are you doing here?”

“Hiding,” she said, dropping her hands in her lap and looking at them. There was a half full bottle of Corellian brandy within reach that seemed to have been keeping her company for a while.

“Hiding from what?” He didn’t want to say ‘from whom’ in case the answer would be him.

“Everyone? Myself?” She sniffled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Today’s a bad day.”

Cassian kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer. He had found her, but instead of feeling relieved, he was even more worried. “What happened?” he asked against her hair. There was a faint smell of disinfectant still embedded in her skin.

“My mom died,” she replied after a few moments of silence. “Well, not today today, but today. Years ago. You know.” Her voice was hoarse like she’d spent the last few hours crying and Cassian blamed himself for not finding her sooner. For assuming everything was okay.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head in shame.

“It’s ok. I don’t think about her often. I try not to think about my childhood in general, but the past week’s been bad. The nightmares are back,” her voice trailed off at the end and she took another swig of brandy. “Been self medicating for years,” she continued, “but I forced myself to stop when I moved here. I don’t like them on the long run anyway, they make me drowsy. I was ok for a while, but now I don’t know, everything’s just come flooding back.”

“When did this start?” he asked, even more worried.

“Last week, I don’t know. I’ve always had nightmares, it’s just that they’ve been more frequent this past week. Such a shit week.”

Cassian felt flooded by guilt. He hadn’t known what she was going thought, and felt terrible for doing nothing. He knew he couldn’t have stayed back to care for her even if he knew about it, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t wish he could have helped her somehow. “Did they get more frequent after your last mission?”

In a second her whole demeanor changed, leaning away from him, her body becoming rigid in his hands. “Are you trying to assess my mental health, Captain?” she asked in and icy tone that was only amplified by her drunkness.

“No,” he replied, not letting her escape his embrace. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Have you talked to anyone about this?”

“No?” she scoffed, like this was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “I don’t want that shit in my file, not with Draven rubbing one off whenever it gets updated. No, thank you.”

Cassian couldn’t help but smile at the obscene gesture she was doing with her hand, but the worry still didn’t disappear. “I’m sure you can talk to Doctor Crane about it and he wouldn’t tell. I’ve never seen him answer to anybody.”

“Yeah, I just don’t wanna unload all this crap on him. He has his own problems.”

“He’s a doctor, it’s his job to make sure everyone’s alright.”

“So am I,” she said, turning her head slightly to throw him a sideways glance. “And I know how to medicate psychosis.”

Cassian shook his head. “It’s not just about medicating, maybe you should just talk. You know, to unload some of that. Want to tell me about it?” he whispered, softly kissing her temple. She slowly melted into his embrace once again, the moment of tension forgotten.

She was silent for a while, playing with the label on the bottle. “Do you really wanna hear about this? It’s a shitty story.”

“Yeah, I want to hear it.”

“Will it go into my file?” she asked, turning around to look at him with tears welling in her eyes.

Cassian’s stomach contracted painfully at the realization that even after all this time he hadn't been relieved of his duty as inquisitor. He’d forgotten for a moment, but she hadn’t. They both knew that everything he heard he had to report sooner or later. Like so many times before he felt his job weighing heavily on his shoulders, and he wished he could be someone else. Anyone else.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He wanted to help her so badly, but he felt like his hands were tied. No matter what he did, he’d end up hurting someone. “Eventually I will have to,” he said, letting out a ragged breath. “But only if we really need it.” It was a sort of compromise. He wasn’t allowed to do that—withhold information—and he knew he’d be reprimanded when it would eventually come to light, but he could only hope they would never need it. Somehow he knew he’d regret it either way.

He looked away but her hand on his cheek made him look back at her. “You’re a good man, Cassian,” she said. Her words were a little slurred, but her smile was brilliant. He loved the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world. It made him feel wanted. “I’ve missed you,” she said, leaning on the wall behind her. “I always miss you when you’re gone.”

“I miss you too,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. Her lips tasted like Corellian brandy and the saltiness of dried tears. She was holding onto his jacket like she was afraid he’d go away if she let go, clinging onto his frame with a neediness that she rarely showed.

Eventually they settled into an embrace, in silence, huddled close to each other. Maybe she’d decided not to tell him after all and maybe it was better this way. It still killed him inside that she had to go through this inner turmoil all by herself and he really wished she would have someone to listen. Lew would listen without being forced to report. Same with Doctor Crane. But he couldn't blame her for not wanting to open up. Hell, he didn’t open up to anyone.

Cora took another swig of alcohol before passing the bottle to Cassian. He took it and drank, enjoying the familiar sting of alcohol down his throat. It was a really good brandy, and Cassian wondered where she got it from.

He considered offering to move both of them inside. His room was right around the corner, and it was definitely more comfortable than the stone floor. The weather was still nice, but who knew for how long. The wind had picked up and the clouds were getting darker.

“My mother died when I was seven...ish,” she said, and Cassian instinctively brought the bottle to his lips a second time, taking a big gulp. This was a story that needed the type of crutch only alcohol could offer. “I loved my mom,” she continued, her lip quivering a little, “and I know she loved me, but she wasn’t really the greatest mom. She was much too obsessed with her job, and the Empire and everything, she didn’t have much time for me. But she loved me.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, only pulled her closer to his chest. He didn’t remember his own mother, but he knew the pain of losing a parent and and spending your childhood feeling neglected.

“Most of the time they’d leave me alone for days, so it was nothing new. But one day neither of them came back.” She took a shaky breath, her eyes dropping to her hands. “Instead there was a squad of stormtroopers that took me away.” Her voice was low, and Cassian could sense her fear. “I knew one of the officers, he was… he was an older officer, he was strict, but gentle. He’d scold me from time to time, but he’d always be... Anyway.” She sniffled and took the bottle from Cassian’s hand. He considered holding onto it—she’d already had enough to drink—but she managed to snatch it before he reacted. “They came for me one day. He told me that they’d have to move me to another place for a while, and that I’d have to wait there. They didn't tell me shit. They just dropped me to a boarding school and left.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, and Cassian couldn’t find anything reassuring to say. He was trained to comfort people, he’d done it so many times before, but anything he wanted to say sounded fake in his own mind, so he kept his mouth shut and leaned his forehead on her temple. She didn’t turn around, but passed a hand over his cheek, in a gentle, loving gesture.

“I… It was shit. I kicked and I screamed and I fought everyone and I hated the way the planet felt and the air was smelly and I was constantly sick and crying and so afraid.” She took another sip of alcohol. “I found out my mother had died when I pissed off one of the tutors and she just flat out told me no one was coming to get me because my mother was dead and no one cared about me. I threw a fit. I don’t remember much from that day, just the satisfied grin on her face when she finally shut me up.” There were already tears streaming down her cheeks, and Cassian felt helpless. “But in the end she was right, no one cared about me.”

She snuggled closer to Cassian and he kissed the top of her head. She was so small once again, reminding him of the time she’d spent in jail, slowly losing her mind. That was his fault. This was his fault too.

“Eventually I got used to my life at the boarding school. I had no choice. It was terrible, but what else could I have done? I’d made peace with my parents being dead, with me being all alone. Until my father came to visit me about two years after they dropped me there.” She straightened her back and turned around to look at him. “He was a ghost, Cassian. I didn’t realize back then what that meant, but he was the shell of the man I’d once known. Not only did he look so much older, he was so cold, so oddly detached from everything, I was sure he wasn’t even alive.”

She looked in the distance, lost in thought. Cassian studied her features, the involuntary ridge that formed between her eyebrows whenever she seemed to remember something particularly unpleasant, the way her lips pressed together then parted for a few seconds like she was about to say something, then closing once again. The pallor of her skin and the redness of her eyes. The streaks of dried tears on her face.

“But you know, he was still my father,” she eventually said, snapping out of her trance. “Or that’s what I tried to convince myself. He told me to be a good kid and be brave because he’d one day come to pick me up take me out of there.” She seemed to get lost in thought once again, but then pulled herself together. “He never mentioned mom. I know he adored her, I mean he didn’t really care about me but he worshiped the ground she walked on. I don’t think he ever wanted kids…The next time I saw him I was eleven.”

Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. She grabbed the bottle and brought it to her lips again, but Cassian didn’t let her drink too much before snatching it from her hands. She turned around to look at him with a comical frown on her face, so he took a sip. One larger than intended, but it was his day off after all, so no harm done. The story he was listening to needed a little alcohol to go down.

She was smiling when he put down the bottle, a little further away, making sure it was out of her reach. “What?” he asked, feeling the temperature rising rapidly and asking himself if it was because of the alcohol or the way she was looking at him.

“You’re really handsome.”

Cassian laughed. “You think so?”

“Mhm.” She leaned into his chest, closing the gap between them and clumsily pressing her lips onto his. Cassian kissed back, slow and heavy, like he wanted to draw all the sadness out of her, filter it through his own being and make it disappear.

She looked like someone who’d been through a lot. Cassian had always known this, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she reacted, in the way she slept. But he never tried to imagine what she’d actually been through, and he hadn’t thought he’d ever find out. He was surrounded by people who were just as closed off as he was, never talking about feelings, or trauma, or what kept them up at night. They just swept everything under the rug and patted each other on the back when they felt like they needed reassurance.

But she had opened up to him, letting him see her vulnerable and scared and sharing her most intimate memories, even while knowing that he may be forced one day to report on them. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that got her talking and it wasn’t a conscious decision on her part. Kriff, how he hated himself.

He wondered if she’ll do the same in the morning, when she’ll realize that she spilled everything in front of him. Maybe she was drunk enough that he could pretend it never happened. But that would be too cruel of him. He couldn’t lie to her. They needed to talk, and Cassian hated talking.

A faint drizzle had started but they were too distracted to notice. Only when Cora passed a hand through his hair and it came back wet, she looked up and frowned.

“Fuck sake!” she cursed loudly. “We should move to another planet, I hate this weather.”

“We should go inside,” Cassian offered, deciding it was time for them to leave.

“We could go to Scarif,” she said, seeming lost in thought once again. “Have you ever been to Scarif, Captain? It has such amazing beaches. Have I ever told you that I worked on Scarif for a while? Yeah, I worked there for a while after I finished school,” she said without waiting for an answer. “It was nice, the beaches were awesome, but we didn’t really have that much time off. I’d like to go there on vacation one day. Would you come with me?” she asked with a smile.

“Uhhh... yeah,” he answered, scratching his head. “Don’t you wanna head inside first?”

“We’d both get shot, but maybe we could dip our feet in the ocean first.” Cassian was taken aback by the morbidity of that thought, but didn’t say anything. “That’s where I found out the truth about how my mom died,” she said out of the blue. “You know they have that big tower where they keep the archives and whatnot.” Cassian nodded. “It’s very well guarded, but I did someone a service and they let me in, pulled out the files I wanted to look at… Turns out my mother died while testing new spacecraft for the Empire.”

Cassian had a lot of questions, and hated himself for every one of them. This wasn’t an interrogation, he wasn’t supposed to find out everything she knew, but his brain had gone into gear automatically. He forced himself to shut up and listen.

“There was this engineer… Galen Erso. He was the head of something something, I don’t remember.” Her forehead creased, like the memories weren’t coming back that easily. “I know he had a daughter a little younger than myself and they lived with us on ISD Corinthia for a while, right before my mother...” She cleared her throat and Cassian could see fresh tears welling in her eyes. “He was the one that engineered the ships my mother and her colleagues died in,” she said turning around to look at Cassian. “You know, he clearly stated in the report that they weren’t ready to be tested in battle. He opposed the test multiple times, but that bitch Orson Krennic didn't want to listen. He just sent them out there without telling them anything, without even telling them this was more than just a test run. They died!” she almost yelled, the anger palpable in her voice. “They all died! He scraped the whole program after this, deemed the ships too unstable and swept everything under the rug.”

His heart was breaking for her. But at the same time he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that his was valuable information. Even if she’d only known them when she was a small kid, she might still remember details that could help the Rebellion. This wasn’t the time to enquire, though, but made a mental note to talk to her once she’s be sober. Maybe she’d agree to tell him what she knew.

“Can you imagine he even had the audacity to come to my sixteenth birthday and tell me how much I looked like my mother,” she spat, looking like mentioning Krennic’s name had opened up old wounds. “If I knew back then what I know now, I would have ripped out his windpipe before he finished that sentence.”

There were tears in her eyes, angry tears, streaming down her cheeks, her hands balled into fists. She was shaking. Cassian had never seen her this angry before, it didn’t even compare to the time he imprisoned her and she tried to claw his eyes out. No, this went a lot deeper.

But the anger quickly melted away, like a match that had burned out. She was left looking drained and sad. “My father socked him in the face when he came to express his condolences,” she continued, laughing bitterly. “He hit him, and hit him until the guards grabbed him. They sent him to a reconditioning facility. Came out of there barely human eighteen months later.”

Cassian caught another fleeting glimpse of fear in her eyes as she looked in the distance. She used her sleeve to wipe the tears running down her face, but Cassian removed her hand before she rubbed herself raw and dried the rest with a tissue. It was the least he could do for her.

“I mean he wasn’t a great father before, but he was even less after that. He was…” She looked for the bottle, but Cassian shifted a bit to hide it from her sight. She huffed, frustrated, but gave up after a few moments. “He’s still my father,” she said, leaning back into Cassian’s chest. “No matter how much I told myself that I hate him… can’t get myself to hate him enough to kill him.”

She buried her face in his uniform, sobbing quietly. Cassian placed an arm protectively around her shoulders and hugged her tight, kissing her forehead and whispering encouraging words in her ear, although he was pretty sure she wasn’t listening. He hoped that he would be able to keep it together. He didn’t know what to do. All his training seemed to have flown out the window and he was more unprepared than ever. The woman he loved was having a mental breakdown and the only thing he could do was hold her while she cried in his shirt.

After a few minutes she seemed to start dozing off, her eyes closing involuntarily. Cassian considered letting her fall asleep completely before carrying her inside, but she rain had picked up. He tried to lift her up as gently as possible as not to wake her, but her eyes flew open when he tried to move. He cursed under his breath.

“Ah! There you were!” she exclaimed, the power nap in his arms seeming to have tapped into an unknown reserve of energy. Cassian turned to look at what he was talking to, right in time to see the alcohol bottle in her hand.

“How did you reach that? Give it back.”

“No!” she giggled, getting up and trying to bring it to her mouth, but instead spilling some brandy on her shirt. “Agh fuck this.”

“Come on, you’ve had enough,” Cassian said, following her.

“No!” she protested. “You’re not my real dad!”

“What?”

Cora laughed and kept the bottle away from his reach, making him dance around her trying to get it. He was perfectly capable of tackling her, he told himself as he was getting increasingly irritated, he’d just decided not to hurt her in any way. There was no way a drunk Cora would be able to escape him for long, especially when she seemed a little uncertain on her feet.

“Come drink with me, Captain.” She hid the bottle behind her back and pecked Cassian on the lips as he was trying to get it from her as gently as possible. “Drink with me. Please?”

There were still fresh tears on her face, mixed with the droplets of rain, but she was smiling, still holding onto the bottle he was trying to take away from her. “How can I drink if you don’t give me the bottle?” he asked, trying to be the intelligent, sly captain everyone thought him to be. Truth be told, he was feeling the effect of the alcohol already.

“Okay,” she said, but still didn’t let go of the bottle. “But I have to see you drink. No, you can’t touch it.” She brought the bottle to his lips, almost splitting his lip and spilling a considerable amount of alcohol on this uniform.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled and opened his mouth before she managed to fill his lungs with brandy. She was generous with the drink, to say the least. Cassian had to make a tremendous effort not to choke on the burning liquor, before he succeeded to take it from her hands, not before spilling more liquor on both of them. “Happy now?” he said, with a stupid smile on his face. Oh, the brandy was going to his head fast.

“Yeah,” she giggled.

“Where did you get it from, anyway?” he asked, looking at the bottle, while Cora attached herself to his arm.

“Melshi.”

“I should have figured…”

“He’s a good friend,” she mumbled, shoving her nose in his shoulder. “You’re a good friend. Thank you.”

“For?”

“For listening,” she said, her voice weak and her eyes sad once again. “And staying here with me and making me feel better… and for everything, really.” She snuggled closer to him, closing her eyes. “I always feel better when you’re here.”

“Anytime,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. He hadn’t done anything besides listening, and that was much too close to ‘doing nothing’ for Cassian’s peace of mind. He was a man of action, and he felt helpless. He turned around to tell her that he was sorry and that he wished he could to more for her, but her eyes were closed and she seemed to already be dozing off. He smiled, and guided her towards the door.

“Where are we going?” she asked stopping dead in her tracks, frowning at the door.

“Inside? It’s raining,” he said, looking at her in disbelief.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“There are people inside, I’d rather stay here,” she said, taking a few steps back.

“Cora…” Cassian whispered, exasperated, before taking a few steps towards her, lifting her up and flinging her over his shoulder. Cora yelped and started hitting his back with her fists, but was giggling like a schoolgirl when he opened the door and stepped inside the base.

[Masterlist in Bio]

#cassian andor #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fanfiction #star wars

[dargonwriter]

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: 

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)

Relationship:

Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)

Characters:

Runaan (The Dragon Prince)

Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)

Original Characters

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Alternate Universe

Slow Burn

Friends to Lovers

Bonding

Team Dynamics

Action/Adventure

Minor Character Death

Language: English Published: 2018-11-20 Updated: 2019-05-07 Words: 38956 Chapters :9/? Comments: 57 Kudos: 84 Bookmarks: 11 Hits: 1101

CHAPTER 9 IS UP!

It took me longer than expected, since it’s one of my longest ones yet at over 8000 words, but it was fun to do I guess! You can click the link to read on AO3 or you could read below!

Gray followed the young man easily down the maze of hallways and doors. In truth, he didn't need an escort to find where they were heading, nor did he need a companion in case he was attacked, Gray simply found it amusing how the guard acted. He was clearly afraid, on edge. Gray could see in in every step, every glance back, every breath even. Good. Gray preferred people to fear him than to like him. It prevented an uprising, if people decided their debt to Gray didn't matter then it would be a mess for him to clean. Gray wasn't one for undue messes.

This young man likely had no true debt to Gray, likely it was the boy's parents who owed and he was simply trying to help. Gray found that those who only wanted to assist their parents in paying off their debts were more useful than those who owed directly. Sure, the loyalty could waver, but they would be willing to go far in order to help. Like the one who had stolen the Unitum from Xadia, Morti. His parents had owed and all of their children were helping, but Morti had the most conviction of his siblings. A shame he died... He would've made a great man one day.

Gray continued to follow as they descended some steps and the halls got colder and darker. The usual flames were changed and swapped out for blue fire that sucked the heat out of the room and only barely provided one the ability to see a few feet in front of them. The soldier in front of him shivered. Gray could see both of their breaths at every exhale. Perhaps, Gray thought, the cold this far from their destination was a bit excessive, but he didn't want to run the risk of his special prisoner escaping. The best way to do that was by cold.

They stopped at a door of stone, not iron or steel or any metal. Thick, heavy stone that the guard had to push out of the way with all his strength. Gray waited until the door was fully opened, and the guard was standing beside it, all but heaving as more puffs of hot air left his mouth. Gray entered.

The room was even colder in here, despite the real torches in each corner of the room. Gray had a feeling he knew as to why.

He scanned the room. Two beds on either side of the room were empty, the thin sheets for blankets still thrown around in the same position as the last 3 times Gray had visited. They hadn't been touched in weeks. Not since the first elf had died. So Gray began searching the corners and there he saw who he was looking for.

Huddled in a corner, shaking as he all but pressed himself into a flame was a male sunfire elf. His black hair had long since become a mess, so different from the shine of it when Gray had first gotten him. The bright yellow markings snaking down the elf's arms contrasted sharply with his dark skin, yet it seemed... off. The markings seemed to have dulled since the last time Gray had seen them. Almost as much as the elf's eyes had. His ears were arched downwards, his head rested against a wall. He was sick. That much had already been clear, but seeing the elf like this only confirmed what Gray had been told.

He walked forward, noting how the elf didn't even respond but to look up with weak eyes. At one point, this elf had been a warrior, and each time Gray got close the sunfire would attempt to attack. Even as the cold did as Gray had intended it to and broke down the elf's resolve, the elf usually at least flashed a snarl before giving in. Now, he barely flinched when Gray reached forward and grabbed the elf's chin. The elf closed his eyes in defeat, even pressing into the touch. Gray squeezed, hard enough to leave bruises, but all he received as a reaction was a weak whimper. This elf wasn't going to survive much longer.

Gray knew what caused this, it was obvious. The cold. The frigid temperatures. Sunfire elves were terrible with cold. Like heated metal suddenly dipped into a frozen lake, they tended to break after being faced with the cold long enough. But one problem with them was that if they warmed again, all that work went to waste. So they needed to constantly be in cold in order to not fight. But... Being in the cold after so long began making them sick, to a point where they couldn't generate their own heat at all anymore and thus only continued to freeze. They all died soon after.

And it probably didn't help that Gray stole their magic in short bursts as well. Elves were one of the few beings who could withstand having half of their magic taken away and survive it, then even replenish it after some time. That's why the flames were in the cell, so magic could be regenerated. But the flames only worked so well. And this particular elf was already so upset after the other elf, a female sunfire he had been captured with, had gotten sick first and had died not a month ago.

It would be best to put him out of his misery now.

Gray pulled out a pocket watch from inside his cloak with his free hand. The sunfire elf opened his eyes slightly, a mix of emotion in his eyes. Fear, curiosity, pain... But one unmistakable one was the pleading, hopeless expression. He was begging for Gray to end it.

Who was Gray to deny someone their final wish?

He let go of the other's chin, only to go to the broken horns of the warrior. He grabbed onto one, pulled the elf's head back and brought the pocketwatch down so it was barely below the other's lips, then softly began chanting.

The elf barely screamed as the last of his life drained into the pocket watch, and he fell completely limp.

Ephraim the guard peered into the room at exactly the wrong moment. A gasp escaped his lips as he saw the sunfire elf drop, terrified green eyes going wide. Then Gray turned to look at him.

Gray was suddenly pale, with what seemed to be dark blue cracks going over his face. Veins. He looked like he was the one sick, instead of the sunfire elf, with dark circles under his eyes and cracked lips as well. Ephraim looked away before he did something he'd regret, but it was already too late.

Gray walked out of the cell, not even batting an eye at the dead body he left behind, and fixed his dark-eyed gaze on Ephraim. He reached up with a hand, also pale and cracked and terrifying, and placed it on Ephraim's cheek. It felt like sandpaper. "Thank you for telling me."

Gray said with an almost smile, but twisted beyond recognition. Ephraim suppressed a shiver from both cold and the creeps.

"We should head back up." Gray said suddenly, leading the way out and clearly expecting Ephraim to follow. He shot Ephraim another smile, then said "Your family would be most disappointed if you never returned to them."

Ephraim was unsure of what the other meant, but disobeying was a death wish.

Another breath, another step.

Another shiver.

"...Tinker..."

Apollo whined as he was shaken awake by a firm hand, pressing into it on instinct but still keeping his eyes closed.

"Tinker."

He knew it was Runaan, trying to wake him up, and Runaan wasn't the type to wait about waking someone, but Apollo also knew the sun wasn't even rising yet. It was too early for this... "No." He whined softly, burying his face into one of the bags he had reclaimed from Spiel's little nest.

"We have to get up. The humans have already set up their booths and carts again, we need to go." Another shake.

Apollo worked open one eye, only to glare at Runaan with it. At least the assassin looked tired as well... "Can't it wait? I'm hardly any use before sunrise." He turned over so his back was to the other.

"No." Runaan said simply. Apollo groaned and closed his eyes again.

...It was too early for this kind of thing...

Runaan ended up having to half drag Tinker out of camp before the sunfire finally began walking on his own. At least he had settled into a tired compliance.

It was quiet, which was a change not unwelcome after travelling with the other elves for so long. He took the time to look around him while Tinker continued to on, half asleep behind him. Tinker hadn't been joking about being useless before sunrise...

The sun was barely rising now, the trees were changing from the dark purple shade they often took at night, to the normal brown of the day. Deep blue leaves turned to green as small rays of light shot through the many trunks. Birds began chirping shortly afterwards, filling the forest with lively noises.

The pair pulled up their hoods and put on their gloves before following the gravel path leading to the human town. As Runaan pulled on his left one, he felt the cold of metal inside. The ring. He had put it in there the night before when he fell asleep, as to not mess up the puzzle. He glanced over at Tinker and the thought the night before returned: Maybe the sunfire would be in higher hopes if Runaan presented the ring back to him...

He slipped the circular, metal puzzle out from the glove and looked over it once more. It had been rather complicated, he had to admit. He had barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep the night before because he was trying to figure it out. He looked at Tinker once more, then spoke up.

"Tinker."

The sunfire's bright eyes lifted and found Runaan's quickly. He looked startled.

Runaan fought off a small smile at the expression, instead holding the ring out in his flat hand. Tinker stopped walking. "You solved it." He observed, his started expression changing to simple surprise and... Was that Pride or something else?

Either way, the smith took the ring and looked it over with a smile. Cute. "It was rather difficult." Runaan admitted with a hum. "But yes, I did." Before the sunfire could say anything else, Runaan watched the path through the trees and took the sunfire by the shoulders, then all but steered the elf towards the town.

The town was lively even at this early hour. Unlike when they had first arrived the day before, when the sun had already been up for hours, the town was calm, quiet as people set up carts or booths and spoke to one another or set out merchandise. Perhaps it had been a mistake to arrive this early after all. People were barely setting up, which meant very little would happen until more people began waking up.

Tinker hummed. "It seems we have some time to spare." Indeed they did. "Well, yesterday I saw a little area perfect for sleeping in for an hour or two so you have fun being your broody assassin self." He did a salute like Spiel and Runaan did, apparently it was unconscious as the sunfire turned away without  second word and walked away. Runaan watched the sunfire disappear behind a house, arms crossed, an amused smile on his face.

Tinker was certainly something else.

Astil didn't dream often.

In fact, she hardly slept much at all, but when she did it was always something of note. Good or bad, it almost always had something to do with the future.

First, she stood low on a tree, watching a fortress with glowing torches lighting the whole night around it. Runaan crouched beside her, holding one of the two swords Tinker had made such a fuss about. "We need to get past the guards." The assassin said, watching the fortress. He seemed tired.

Astil looked up at the moon. Full. Yet, a blink later and it was new, and there were nothing but stars. Astil and Runaan were no longer on a tree, instead on rocky soil behind a large rock, and with a look around she realized his weapons were not the same. "Astil?" The moonshadow asked, looking at her. She looked back at him quickly. He was worried now, but determined, and with something in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago. Care.

Astil opened her mouth to respond, but everything faded to the very stars above and a moment after she was in an empty hallway lit with dark blue torches. She felt cold. The walls were of stone, so was the ground. There wasn'tr a single star here. "Astil!!" A scream erupted from somewhere behind her. She whirled around, only to be in another hall, this one with walls of wood and red carpets. Runaan approached, a frown on his face. In his arms was an unconscious Tinker.

Another blink, it was Rainy in Runaan's arms. She was covered in blood and burns. Astil gasped and tried to rush forward, but something grabbed onto her leg and she fell. As she struck the floor, she found she struck mud instead of carpet. She realized soon enough that she was surrounded by human soldiers. Everyone but Rainy was present. Spiel and Runaan were both on their knees, held down by multiple men with swords held at their throats. One of Spiel's wings were wrapped in a messily made cast of sorts, and by his expression, the guard who held onto that particular wing to keep it still was pressing hard enough to make it hurt.

Astil was still on the ground, a hand was pressed on her back, forcing her down even as she struggled. Dustin stood, but had his arms roughly held behind his back. In the center of the half circle formed was Tinker, who wasn't being held down at all, but in front of the sunfire elf stood a figure of a man. Astil couldn't make it out in the darkness. They were speaking, but the words were lost on Astil. Behind the man was some sort of weapon...

The unitum.

The figure said something, then seemed to smirk as the sunfire suddenly turned with wild eyes toward Runaan and Spiel.

"Wait- NO!"

Blood pounded in Astil's ears as she saw the flick of motion and one of the two elves held by the soldiers was released. He fell to the ground. Astil couldn't see which one it had been as her vision blurred, and the only thing clear was the dark crimson of blood as it slowly pooled out of her friend's neck. She fought and shook, struggling just as Tinker rushed forward towards the body, only to be held back by the figure.

She watched in horror as Tinker was yanked back into his conversation with the figure. Someone grabbed one of her horns and pulled her head up, then placed something sharp and cold against her neck. Her breath hitched, then she stopped breathing altogether. Tinker turned to look back, his eyes meeting Astil's. As soon as he had looked at her, though, he went back to his conversation with the figure. His ears moved and twitched as he pleaded and negotiated.

Astil watched, pushing past forming black spots in her vision. But soon, darkness overtook her and everything faded to black.

She woke with a loud gasp, shooting up and looking around, panting as she tried to regain her breath. She was still in the forest, but it was sunny and she wasn't in the same clearing. She relaxed with a soft sigh, reminding herself that it had been a dream.

No. Not a dream. Startouches didn't dream. That had been a vision.

She began shaking, and hugged her knees to her chest to keep some semblance of balance when her arms shook too bad to hold her up. Her breathing became uneven, and for the first time in a long time, she felt tears well in her eyes. She had never had a vision before, they were rare even among elders...

Visions showed things that were set in stone, not up to probability.

Which meant that someone would die.

Tinker hummed as he awoke again, soaking in the light from the sun now above him. He had specifically chosen this spot because of its position. The wall was rather rough, but it was in the perfect spot to sit if one wanted to absorb the sunlight.

There was a quiet noise above him and he looked up quickly, only to find a certain assassin standing on the roof above him, looking down at him. What was it with the moonshadow and being high up? "I would think you part skywing with how you constantly choose the sky over the ground." He called, receiving a chuckle from Runaan.

"That would imply that I like heights." He jumped down suddenly, landing with a quick roll and coming up to his feet easily. Tinker wondered how he could do that without being phased at all. If Tinker tried that, he'd probably break something. He wanted to ask.

Instead, the comment about heights caught his attention. He watched Runaan come closer. "You don't like heights?" He was an assassin, how did he not?

"It's an odd fear, isn't it?" Runaan asked, as if he wasn't phased by Tinker's surprise. "I've never been interested in being in high places. Yes, I can easily catch myself or break my fall if I need, and I haven't fallen since I was younger, but it's the idea that I could fall. If I lean over the edge of something, it's much like a tingling feeling, as if my head will suddenly lose its wits and force the rest of me to slip. It's an odd feeling to describe." He lifted his arms and scooped his hair into his hands to pull it back behind his shoulders, he didn't have a string to tie it back with so he let it go, only for a few stray pieces to fall around his face again. He gave a small sigh and tried to flick them back. Apparently he was done explaining because he said "Let's head back the buying area. We still need the map."

Tinker followed happily, now that the sun was up and his energy was back he didn't mind going back to what they had left off doing the night before. Except this time he had a different idea. He pulled out a dagger from, grabbing the moonshadow's attention next to him. "Where did you get that?"

The dagger was silver, with a deep fuller on either side. The guard was designed to look like wings, wrapping around the base of the blade some with carefully designed feathers. In the center of where the wings met was a single blue crystal surrounded by a thin circle of darker gray silver. The grip was just a deep blue ribbon wrapped tightly around the tang, but Tinker had made sure it wouldn't come loose. The small pommel was another blue crystal attacked to a metal piece that screwed in, as the hilt itself was hollow and could hold most liquids without any escaping unless someone were to press the crystal on the wings.

Tinker was rather proud of it. Still, he shrugged. "I grabbed it beforen we left. New plan."

"If you plan to stab someone with that, I just want to make sure you know how little damage that thing could do."

The comment drew a small laugh from the sunfire as he quickly shook his head. "I intend to trade it." Upon receiving a curious look from the assassin, he began explaining. "Last time, we had nothing obvious that we were willing to trade, today I have something I'm willing to part with." His excited smile turned into a small frown when Runaan made an amused noise.

"By all means, go up to a human whilst holding a dagger like that, see what happens."

Tinker sighed but placed the dagger back in its sheath on his belt and followed as the assassin led the way through the crowded streets, weaving between around men and woman who were either talking to one another or simply checking through their bags. The first three places they tried were dead ends, and the fourth nearly got them arrested because, yeah, apparently humans didn't take calmly to other people pulling out knives.

That didn't stop Tinker though. "Okay, what if we just sold the dagger?" Tinker suggested as they hid between two buildings while some guards walked by. They were so close to getting arrested.

The look he received from the assassin ignited something in Tinker, and the response even more so. "I doubt anyone would know who buys and trades goods like weapons."

After that, as soon as Runaan said they were clear Tinker darted through the streets. Despite Runaan's surprised shout, Tinker kept going. He had seen a sign earlier about buying and selling goods.

He stopped, practically panting once he reached said cart, run by a happy looking man who didn't have to try to remind Tinker of Riku when he had been younger. He smiled. "I heard you bought other people's things."

"Yes, we do." The man looked surprised, to say the least. "But I have too many thing right now to purchase anything else." Tinker frowned and suppressed a whine.

Well there went his idea. "Okay. Thank you for your time..." He mumbled, about to leave, ears lowering beneath his hood,

The man's eyes widened as he quickly added "But if you need money or to sell something, there is an auction start here in about an hour, you could try that. It's run by a friend, he'll walk you through the process."

Tinker's ears lifted again, as did his mood. He smiled and barely thanked the man before he headed back to Runaan, dodging men and women alike as he did so.

As he got closer, he slowed down to make it seem like he wasn't excited, instead putting on a smug attitude. Luckily, Runaan had barely moved from the alleyway and just glared as Tinker approached.

"I found a solution."

Great lakes it was burning up...

Rainy fanned herself with a hand desperately, but the air did nothing to help her. She needed water. It was hot enough in the ocean during the summer, but of course on land she was dried out, exhausted, and overheating. Their little boat ride over lava hadn’t helped either.

Dustin crossed his arms as he glared at her. "What are you doing?" Maybe she was being a little dramatic with the hand waving thing but it was just common sense to not let an oceanmist overheat.

"I'm dying..." She answered back, falling back onto the ground behind her. "It's too hot. I need water." Something cold tapped her shoulder, and she looked up to see Spiel behind her, holding a water can to her arm. She couldn't help but smile at his goofy expression. "Not like that, like something I could swim in, but thanks."

Dustin scoffed. Actually scoffed. "Well, we can't leave camp so you'll just have to wait until Tinker and Runaan come back."

"Astil left."

The way Dustin froze, it made Rainy giggle some despite the heat. "Yes- well... Astil's doing-"

"Girl stuff?" Spiel offered in a monotone voice, but Dustin quickly corrected.

"Startouch stuff."

"At least he didn't actually agree with girl stuff." Rainy shrugged to Spiel, who held up his hands in a defensive gesture. His wings rose a little as well. A growl from Dustin took her attention, and she glanced back at him to find him standing from where he sat on a log. "Where are you going?" She asked, tilting her head as he turned and began heading to the edge of the clearing.

He didn't glance back as he answered "To find Astil."

"What happened to-" Before Spiel could even finish his sentence, Dustin was gone "-not leaving camp... Ass."

All day Gray had been searching for whatever had drawn him to stay here, yet still, nothing presented itself to him. Everything was the same as before, the people greeted 'Ronin' without even questioning who he was, the shopkeepers sold nothing different, there wasn't even rumors of a shipment of new magical items coming in. And yet... That feeling of expecting something here still stayed.

He soon began aimlessly wandering about, hoping that perhaps whatever called him would just jump out at him at random.

How right he had been.

"Any minute, folks!" Someone shouted, drawing Gray's attention from the cobble street below him. He looked up, finding the voice. And announcer stood on a makeshift wooden stage made out of some pieces of wood nailed together, but it worked to let him be seen, even over the crowd of people already gathering to see what the announcer was speaking about. Gray had to admit: The man's enthusiasm was quite a feat. "Five minutes until the auction starts! And this one, I have a feeling, is one you wouldn't want to miss!"

Well… Gray had nothing better to do with his time he supposed.

He stepped into the crowd, pushing past people until he was in a comfortable spot to see everything that would be presented. “Thirty seconds!” The announcer called later. Someone suddenly bumped into Gray, and he turned to see a dark face under a hood.

“Sorry.” They said, before a second hooded man grabbed his arm and pulled him closer into the center with a gloved hand

Cloaks and hoods on such a hot day? Intriguing.

He glanced back at the pair, studying them even though their back was turned toward him. One dressed in primarily greens and teals, with multiple layers of clothing it seemed. There was a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, hiding most of his shoulders and upper arms underneath it. He was taller, practically towering over everyone else there, even his companion. Gray was perplexed.

The other one dressed in primarily red, orange, and yellow, colors mainly found in the upper class, yet their hood was made from leaves, sticks, and even feathers it seemed. So different from his clothes. His arms were also covered in a cloth of a brown color than anything, not exactly off from the red, but certainly contrasted. Almost as if these two didn't understand fashion at all. They did seem completely out of place here.

He moved closer, making sure to keep his distance. The taller one kept his head down, hiding every part of his face except for his mouth and just the shadow of his nose. The shorter, though, had his head up and was looking around, every once in awhile whispering things to the taller stranger, who frowned and muttered something having to do with 'attention' each time. Most of the short one's face was hidden as well, but he could at least see the other's eyes, they practically seemed to glow after all.

What was more interesting, though, were their hands. Both of them wore gloves, as he had seen earlier, but the taller one had his hands clasped together. The interest in that: Only three fingers and his thumb were clasped on each hand, the pinky was sticking up.

Gray checked the other one as well, and though it took some watching, it was similar that when the stranger closed his hand, his pinky didn't even move. How odd...

He reached into his bag and pulled out the dead shell of a lady bug, then held it close to his mouth and prepared to speak words over it, but the announcer speaking stopped him.

"Alright, folks, bidding's open." The announcer said, making even the taller stranger look up. Gray muttered a curse under his breath and pocketed the ladybug again, then looked up at the announcer continued. "The first thing on the table today is a previously used but well taken care of saddle. Bid starts at twenty pieces! Twenty, twenty, can I get- Twenty! Alright, twenty five? Twenty- Yes!-" Gray sighed and blocked the announcer's voice out, instead going back to studying the hooded strangers. While shorter seemed interested in the saddle, he did seem interested in anything that moved, so Gray ignored him and shifted to look at the taller again instead. He had looked down again, apparently not interested in the saddle.

The entire time the saddle was on the block, neither bid, nor even discussed it.

Three other things were bid as well: A clock, a vase, and some sort of tool that Gray could care less about, but none of those times did either man seem even remotely interested.

The fifth item that came up though...

"Next up is a beautiful little dagger, pure, real sapphires, made solely out of steel and silver." People whistled as the weapon was brought forth, some gave interested 'oohs' as well. Even Gray's attention was captured, the way it caught the sunlight made it almost seem to glow.

It was silver in color, the part around the blade itself looked like wings, wrapping around the sharp metal some with carefully designed feathers. In the center, a single blue crystal surrounded by a thin circle of darker gray sat alone, soaking in and reflecting the light around it. The bottom half of it wasn't as intricate as the first half, with a simple blue ribbon as a grip and and another, rounder, sapphire pommel. Still, as a whole it was stunning. And more than likely very valuable. Gray wouldn't be surprised if the starting price was up in the twenties, or possibly even the thirties.

"It's up." He heard the shorter stranger say. Gray managed to take his eyes off the weapon to look at the pair, to find the one dressed in red lightly pushing the other one. The taller looked up, then nodded.

So these two were connected to the knife in some way.

That made it infinitely more valuable to the curious mage.

The announcer let people gawk, then shouted "Bidding starts at six pieces!"

What?

The people around him had a similar reaction, wondering why it was so cheap. Some became weary in that moment, others became excited at the price they could afford.

Gray glanced at the pair, only to find the short one practically beaming from where he stood, and the taller making a tight line of his lips.

He expected them to be the first to bid, they looked as if they would, but alas it was someone else who raised his hand when the announcer prompted for six. Then ten. By the time the number reached fifteen, Gray knew for sure. If these men weren't trying to buy the knife that only meant one other thing.

They were trying to sell it.

Which meant they needed the money or they needed to get rid of it.

Either way, Gray wanted the weapon even more now. It was the key to unlocking who these two strange men were. He raised a hand and shouted “Twenty-five!” then smirked when the announcer pointed at him.

“Twenty five, we got twenty five, can we get a Thirt- Thirty!” He pointed at another young man who had raised his hand.

Another shouted out “Thirty five,” And received recognition from the announcer.

“Thirty five, let’s go up to fort-” Gray raised his hand pointedly, noticing quickly how the first man frowned and dropped his own hand. So forty was the limit for him. How much was the other one’s limit?

He spoke up, looking at the other challenger as he shouted “Fifty!” As loud as he could. He smirked as he saw all the hope leave the man’s eyes, replaced by disdain. There it was.

“Fifty, fifty? Can we jump another ten? Sixty? No? Very well! Going once, going twice!”

A beat of silence. Gray found himself focused not on his prize, though, instead staring at the strangers again. Even the taller one was now watching, intent. Gray could now see his eyes and nose as well as just his mouth, in fact. Something was off now that he saw the taller one’s face… Gray couldn’t tell what, but his face seemed darker than Gray had thought a moment ago. Almost like…

“Sold! Come get your prize after the auction!”

Gray sighed, the thought being cut off by the announcer’s ‘announcement.’ He merely nodded at the man on stage, then glanced back at the tall stranger. His head was down again. Gray nearly cursed under his breath.

Oh well. Soon he would meet these two strangers.

And figure out why they were here.

“Astil?” Dustin called, weaving through the trees in search of the startouch, his frustration growing with each step he took. They had orders to stay and for once he had to agree with the one who dealt them. They couldn’t afford to be separated, especially not this close to a human town. In case something happened, it would be better if they stuck together as much as they could so no one got hurt.

Which was why he was searching for Astil.

He had never been good with trees, not as much as he was good with dirt, but he at least knew how to track.

There were various dips in the dirt and the decaying leaves, caused by Astil no doubt. She stepped lightly, and it was difficult to make out a bootprint and prove it was hers, but Dustin had figured it out after a moment. Now he followed.

He froze when he pushed past two trees, entering a clearing, and in that clearing was Astil.

She was clearly upset. She had her knees pulled to her chest, her arms resting on top of them, and her head buried in her arms. Her hair fell against her back, messy and filled with dirt and sticks. Had she been laying down?

“Astil?” He asked, the frustration melting away to worry as he heard a few sobs escape the startouch.

Her head shot up, she looked at him. A few trails of almost glowing tears ran down her face, dripping onto her pale clothes. Her eyes were wide, revealing the pale yellow they were. She actually looked surprised. Dustin’s anger melted more.

He stepped forward. “Hey… You alright?”

“Fine.” She shot back, wiping her face and getting up quickly enough. Dustin didn’t believe her. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You disappeared on us.” He pointed out, lowering his voice some when he heard how defensive she sounded. “Rainy was worried. Do… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He sighed when she shook her head. “Astil, please. As your teammate, I have to know.”

She glared at him. “It’s nothing I can tell.”

“A vision?”

She released a shaky breath and merely nodded, but nothing more

Whatever she had seen in that vision… It wouldn’t be good.

Rainy was getting worse.

At first, it was just some mild complaining, now she had gone silent and was practically panting as she practically leaned over the water canister Spiel had handed her. She was not okay.

Spiel sighed. His flapping was barely helping at this point, and he could fly quite awhile without getting tired but just flapping for no reason except to push air? That was a different story... So he slowed the wing beats until he stopped completely, taking care to make sure she hadn't noticed. Both to his relief, and to his concern, she didn't even make a noise of acknowledment, only panting more.

She really needed to cool off...

He looked up at the sky, partially blocked by the branches of the tree overhead but otherwise clear of even a single cloud. The sun was nearly completely above them. "I'll be back." He told her, only recieving a hum in response.

He didn't want to go, in case something happened he wanted to be there to help, but it would only take a few minutes to find the river nearby, then he could return and take her there. With a plan in mind, he spread his wings, nodded at her once, then took off into the sky.

He hadn't left.

Astil was happy for the comfort, but at the same time, Dustin hadn't left which gave Astil no time to think over the vision and try to sort it out. Visions were never that straight forward, she heard. There were mixes, twists, sometimes one situation was actually at another place in time and other times they were in the same time, but with the wrong person involved. It was all so confusing...

Dustin had apparently sensed her shift, why was her ability to mask emotions so difficult to reset? "Astil?" He asked softly. They had only known each other for a few days but the one word was the quietest he had best since they met. She couldn't help but give a surprised look. He must have taken it wrong, because even softer, even with a tinge of worry, he asks "Are you sure you can't talk about it? It may help."

"I can't risk you trying to change anything, or telling anyone." She responded with a soft shake of his head. This was a burden of her-

She couldn't even finish the thought as he grabbed her by the shoulders and looked straight at her with meaning filled brown eyes. She froze, shocked at his movement and even more shocked at how serious he sounded as he said, very carefully. "I won't do either. I swear it upon the very earth we sit on, I will even swear it on your stars if I must. Even if I have to swear myself to complete silence, I will still do it if it helps you." A pause. Neither spoke for a moment, Astil frozen by his words, Dustin because he looked like he, too, was about to start crying. Then, softly, "I don't want to see you, of everyone else here, upset."

Astil had been told when she was younger that she could only tell the elders if she ever had a vision, that they would always help her sort it out. However, they weren't here. Dustin was. He wanted to help...

She took a shaky breath, looking down to avoid his gaze as she decided.

Then, hesitantly and with a sense of worry so unlike her, she told him.

Everything.

“Rainy?” Spiel asked as he landed back into the center of camp again. His eyes widened when he saw her, and rushed forward. She was resting against a tree trunk, looking like she was about to pass out. Oceanmists really could not handle the heat, could they? “Hey, hey,” He said quickly, gathering her in his arms.

She hummed, managing a confused look before going limp against him, completely out of it. She needed to cool off now.

“Hold on.” He said, sliding off the pair of goggles he wore and securing them over his eyes. Man… It sucked when he had to fight the wind getting in his eyes… But it would be worse for her. He made sure to hold on to her with his arms, then spread his wings and took off again.

He broke through the trees above him with more power than the last time, practically shooting into the air like a loosed arrow. The extra wind startled her into a more aware position. She gave a loud shout as she looked down, grabbing onto Spiel tighter. Admittedly, it was freaking adorable. “SPIEL!” She yelled loudly, clearly terrified. Even her ears seemed to straighten and lower some at the same time.

As he gained altitude, he slowed them and only flapped his wings enough to keep them in their current place in the sky. Like any reasonable elf in Spiel’s position, he laughed.

“Spiel!” She shouted again, this time more indignantand less terrified. That was good, at least.

He gave her a goofy smile, then asked with the best shit-eating smirk he could muster "How's this for cooling off?"

If looks could kill, he would be dead and she'd be fallingto her own death.

"Okay, well, this is only half of the experience!" He continued, keeping his cheery tone. Before she could ask, he folded his wings around her, and they dropped.

Her screams were loud, but the wind around them was louder. He watched with pure amusment as she shut her eyes tight and held onto him harder than he knew she could grip. Her hair blew up around her face, the ponytail coming loose as air rushed through it. That would be painful to brush out later...

He looked down, then spread his wings suddenly to slow them, wincing a little at the sudden force upon them, but pleased when her screaming was suddenly cut off, instead replaced by a small "Uh-" As they suddenly stopped dropping.

Freaking hilarious.

Well... Until she banged on his chest pretty hard.

In hios surprise, he lost a little more altitude and they dropped some more, again Rainy screamed for the duration of the drop and again, she seemed surprised when he was able to slow them and regain height. She growled once Spiel had slowed them, again batting at his chest.

"Warn me next time, you idiot!" She shouted, clearly distressed.

Spiel hummed, amused still. "No promises." When she growled again, he chuckled at her. "Oh come on, you can't be that afraid of heights, can you? I hear flying is just like swimming."

"Except the water will support you and you don't need wings or help to swim!" She snapped, looking down. Her hair was a mess in general, but the side he saw when she turned her head was so much more than just 'a mess.' "In the sky, there's nothing supporting you! The moment you're without a thing that can fly, you drop!"

Well... She did have a good point he supposed. "Then I suppose you should be lucky you're with me." He recieved another bat to his chest for his words.

"Put me down." She insisted, then again, this time highlighting every word with another hit. "Put. Me. Down."

"I'll have to drop you~"

"SPIEL!!"

"Okay, okay," He shrugged, then began gliding down easily so to not give her a mini heart attack again. He landed on the shore of the river easily with a chuckle, noticing how she practically jumped out of his arms. "Never again?" He asked with a chuckle.

A scoff. "Never."

"I'll try to note that." He gave a mock wing salute with a smirk. Yeah, he was so doing that again sometime. "Now... turn around." He took her by the shoulders and pointedly turned her so she could see the blue of the lake.

Immediately, he saw her anger cool into surprise. "We should get back to camp." She said with a soft shake of her head. "We shoudln't-"

"No way. You were suffering back there. Go, have fun." He began pushing her towards the water, folding his wings against his back so he didn't get them wet at all.

He watched her frown, then look at the river, then back at him. He only nodded, and she sighed. "Only if you swim with me."

Wait what?

"Oh, no, I don't swim."

Rainy scoffed again, taking Spiel's hand and dragging him closer to the water, despite him struggling away. "And I don't fly, yet you still dragged me up there. Come on, wuss." Of course she would use that against him. He was just trying to have fun!

"Rain! I really can't swim!" He argued, worridly lifting his wings to keep them out of the water.

She stopped suddenly, then turned to look at him with almost offense. "You can't- What? What happened to the whole 'flying is just like swimming' thing??"

"I HEARD!"

She shook her head, a small sliver of him hoped she would say alright and let him go, but instead: "Then I guess today's the day you learn." She dragged him further into the water, making him give a loud groan/whine hybrid.

"I honestly don't understand why skywings swim! Or how! Like do they use their wings, or just their arms, how do they keep their wings dry?" He could tell she wasn't listening, but these were ginuine questions he had and by the Azure heavens he needed answers! No one ever taught him to swim!

As he expected, she ignored his compaints, and the way that he lifted his wings to keep them out of the water, instead holding on and dragging until she was satisfied with where he stood in the water. It was at least up to his chest. The bottom part of his wings were soaked, and he sighed.

"Well now we'll have to walk back," He said, finally folding his wings behind him again with a pout. He cringed and looked back to the shore longingly, though he stays put once she let go. "My wings haven't been preened since the morning we left Xadia and now they're soaked." He told her.

She actually rolled her eyes at him. "Okay, well, maybe soaked wings are good." He shot her a look to tell her she was dead wrong. "Oh well. So, the first thing when learning how to swim is to-"

Dear cloudy skies... This was going to suck.

Spiel sighed as Rainy continued to talk.

Neither of them noticed a super-sized fish coming towards them until it was too late...

Dustin frowned once Astil finished. That.. That was bad. Very, very bad.

The startouch released a breath, then said "I've never had a vision before, but it's crucial we figure out the meaning. Visions aren't always straightforward, sometimes they're filled with symbolism that makes it hard to figure out whether it's just a weird dream, or an actual vision."

"Well, I'm not sure how much help I'll be with the non-obvious answer," He crossed his arms and tilted his head in her direction to highlight his point as he said "Earthblood elves aren't exactly well known for much else than being straightforward."

Astil nodded. "I'm aware. But... With this vision it may be better to have a more... Obvious mind." Obvious wasn't the word Dustin would pick, he couldn't argue as she continued. "It seems like a simple one, more 'straightforward' than some I've heard of." She placed a knuckle against her cheek and was clearly biting at the skin there, a behavior Dustin didn't expect to see from a startouch. Nervous ticks, or bad habits, were something he assumed the 'regal startouches' wouldn't do.

"Noted." He said, still rather surprised by her, well, Normal behavior. He quickly shook off the surprise in favor of a more serious mood. Someone was going to die, right now was not the time to be confused by the actions of a startouch elf. "So what's the first plan of action?"

"A timeline."

"A... What?"

She sighed and shook her head. "A timeline, a series of events put together on a line depicting points of time?" By the look she gave him, he assumed she thought he was an idiot. He crossed his arms indignantly.

"Okay, noted. How do you go about making this timeline?"

Suddenly, she was standing. She walked over to a tree, then took quite a few leaves that had some sort of deformity, whether it was size, holes, or a different color, none looked like the others she grabbed. She found a patch of dirt, then drew a long line with it and set the leaves to the side. "We start by probability. First, there are two different possibilities, based off of who we see... I-In the forest." It was obvious what she meant: Who she saw die. But if she wanted to call it that, then that was alright. "First, there's the chance of Spiel," She held up a leaf with two more leaves seemingly attached. "And then there's a chance of Runaan."

She held up a thinner leaf with her other hand. “There is also a chance of both, since I in truth couldn’t see anything, but I think it’s only one.”

“And how do you know for certain when you got one and not the other?” Dustin asked, preparing for another… however long he’d have to listen again.

Astil put down the two leaves, on the opposite side of the other ones. “Process of elimination. We need to find literal time pointers or indications, landmarks in time.” Dustin paused, thinking back to what she had told him about the vision.

“The moons.” A pause. He looked her straight in the eye as she gave a look that he took as ‘explain’ “You said one time it was full, but another time it was new. Those are your ‘points in time’ right?”

She sighed. “I was thinking of saving those for more figurative use later, often times moons are used as things to be interpreted through symbolism, but… I think the straightforwardness would work here. Yes. Though I’m unsure which would come first.” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I’m being too obvious with it, but the full moon’s first, and the full moon’s coming up, and the new moon’s next.”

A sigh, then a “Very well, that would work.” Dustin smiled and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t right away, instead picking through the leaves until she found two leaves with holes in them, one on the very tip, one right in the middle. She placed them on the line, placing them a good distance away from each other, but neither on the exact end of the line, leaving them a smaller distance away from the ends.

“So these are our points.” She said, placing a hand on each. “Now, the next step is finding anomalies.” A pause. He waited for her to speak again, but once she did not, he sighed and began trying to search through what he knew as well. Only for her to speak up as soon as he tried. “Tinker.”

“What?”

“Tinker.” She said again. “I saw him badly hurt, Yet he was fine in the forest. So the forest has to happen before he gets hurt.” She took two more leaves, one badly ripped and one bright yellow, then placed the bright yellow one in front of the ripped, somewhat off the line.

Makes sense. “Okay.” He waited a moment, making sure she wouldn’t say anything else, then began speaking his own mind. “Well, I think that you and Runaan are retaliating or something in one of those moments, like something happened and you’re reacting. The other one might involve the Unitum since you said you saw it behind the mystery man. Maybe… Maybe that retaliation has something to do with Rainy being hurt?”

“Not to mention that I only saw her once, and that she wasn’t in the forest.” She suddenly froze, going rigid even as she said, “Y-Yes, It would make sense… She would likely not… survive those burns I saw…”

Oh. He… hadn’t implied that… “I-“ She cut him off quickly.

“Yes. That would make sense… If the full moon involves Rainy’s injury…” She went silent suddenly as she began moving different leaves to different spots. Dustin could do nothing but watch as she worked.

She didn’t stop until almost all of the leaves were somewhere. He looked at her expectantly, then swept his hands over the timeline to spread his point. “Care to explain?”

She looked it over, again biting on the inside of her cheek, before nodding and speaking up. “If Runaan is the one in the forest, it would put the event after both moons, which of course would cause an anomaly with Tinker’s injuries, as I think the full moon was actually a retaliation of some sort involving Rainy and the forest actually takes place between the new and full moon. So it has to be Spiel.”

Unfortunately.

Not that Dustin has anything against Runaan, but if he had to choose between the assassin and the lively skywing…

“SPIEL!” Someone shouted, far off. Dustin’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Astil, who looked equally surprised.

“That was Rainy.” Astil said, getting up urgently and running to the edge of the clearing, theory forgotten. “They’ll need help.”

Dustin nodded and sprinted behind her.

Already things were happening.

“Spiel!” Rainy shouted again as the giant fish turned back towards her. It was nearly three times as large as the largest fish found in the oceanmist home! Still, she wasn’t worried about herself. Instead, she watched the skywing anxiously.

The fish had come out of nowhere, just coming up and attacking Rainy. Spiel had tried to help, but the fish’s tail had struck him and sent clean onto the other side of the river, where he had landed against the struck of a tree with a sickening CRACK noise.

He fell forward. She saw him flinch as he moved his wings, only to fold one and drop the other back into the previous position. He was hurt.

She didn’t have time to ask as the fish sped forward and she had to dive out of the way to keep away from its mouth. Even sharks were less aggressive than this thing!

She gave a loud shout as it again swam towards her. She swam away again, feeling like frightened tuna when someone swam towards a school. She cursed softly from under the water, trying to find some sort of direction as to which side of the river she was closest to, and which side Spiel was one. She needed to get to Spiel. She needed to make sure he was okay.

But as the fish sped after her again and again, she was stuck only swimming away and never gaining her sense of direction. Raging rapids! The ocean was so much easier to figure out than this! Especially with the current, it was hard enough.

She barely broke the surface and glanced around again before she was forced to flee again. But that look was enough to catch one glimpse of the bank.

This time, she dove towards it.

She dodged three more attempts from the fish before she reached the edge of the river, then pulled herself up, whirling around and giving a loud yelp as the fish tried to jump out of the water to get her. Naturally, she jumped a few paces back to keep away from its mouth.

Soon enough, she realized she was still on the wrong side of the river, and Spiel was still where he had been a moment ago, though now he held onto the injured wing with a hand.

Oh no.

“You need to fly to this side!” She shouted, only to receive a shake of his head.

He stretched his hurt wing a second time, only to quickly fold it again with another pained expression. “I- I can’t fly.” He said, looking straight at her with a serious expression. Were those tears in his eyes, or just remnants of the water?

“What’s going on?”

Rainy turned, only to be met face to face with a very mad but worried Dustin, and an equally urgent and ruffled Astil.

She quickly motioned to the fish and the skywing. The fish was now swimming back to Spiel’s side. Spiel didn’t have as much room to go anywhere as her, and flying was out of the question…

“Spiel needs help.” Rainy said quickly. “We were swimming and we were attacked. I think Spiel’s wing is broken or just really badly sprained. He can’t fly.”

Astil and Dustin shared a worried look, but nodded. “Understood.” Astil said with a nod, looking over the scene before her. Her abilities were… off currently. She couldn’t tell the exact possibilities, just the opposite ones. Well… better than nothing…

“Rainy,” She said, not glancing back and instead focusing on a path between the two banks. “Dustin and I will distract the assailant, you swim over and help Spiel get back onto this side.” She ordered. Rainy nodded, just as Dustin’s ears fell.

“Is there a problem?” Astil asked expectantly at Dustin.

Simply put; Yes. He crossed his arms with a small growl. “I don’t do water.” To which Astil sighed.

“Then I suppose you will have to get over it. No one is dying today.” The words struck like daggers. The look she gave him, it was clearly meant to be more than just throwaway words. Of course he’d have to do shit like this…

He gave another growl. “Let me try to do something from shore, earth and all.” He wasn’t even close to a mage what was he thinking?

Still, she seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded, then took a step back and turned toward the river as Rainy prepared to dive in. Astil drew some sort of Rune with one hand, creating a flash of white light. A moment later, a staff appeared in her hand. Silver. Simple.

Huh. Who would’ve thought a startouch would use a weapon in general, but one so simple?

Weird.

“Hey!” Astil shouted suddenly, nodding to Rainy before jumping into the water just as Rainy did. The splash caught the fish’s attention. It turned. Dustin could see the realization in its eyes as it registered that there were easy targets now. It swam forward, first going for Rainy, but Astil struck it in the side with her staff instead, causing the fish to turn towards her.

There was no way even she could handle this alone.

Okay, how did earth mages do this? They drew runes and said words, right?

But he didn’t know words, nor runes…

A few miners could move rocks and stones to find gems, Dustin had watched them do it a few times, and they never used runes…

Wait.

Without constantly being attacked, Rainy found it infinitely easier to get the other side, and sped there, practically jumping onto the shore and coming close to Spiel. “How bad?” She asked, lifting an arm to help him onto his feet.

“Terrible.” He responded, frowning and closing his eyes tight as he tried to show her.

She stopped him with a light hand on the feathers. “It’s alright, I know you’re serious. Okay, look, we need to get to the other side.”

“What about the-“

“Astil has it covered.” She cut him off, sneaking a hand under one arm and around his back, then underneath the other. “You’re going to have to help me swim, probably, but I can get us to the other side. It may hurt, though.”

There was a pause, and he looked scared for a moment, before he shook his head. “No, No, Let’s do it. But I can’t swim still.”

“It’s alright, just kick. Come on.” She led him to the water’s edge, then slowly eased him in.

There wasn’t as big as splash as when she had literally jumped into the water, but it did send ripples throughout the water.

She kicked off, making sure to go slow and to support Spiel. The skywing made soft, hurt noised each time his injured wing moved in the water, but he adjusted to the water and did as she had told him about kicking and nothing else.

Rainy focused solely on Spiel and their path, not realizing that the ripples she sent had grabbed the attention of the fish.

If Astil were any less refined, she would have cursed in that exact moment she realized the fish had seen Rainy and Spiel. Of course…

She swam forward and whacked it again with her staff, receiving a bat from the fish’s tail instead, which she narrowly avoided.

Dear stars, this was getting difficult. She needed to get her abilities back under control.

“Rainy, watch out!” She shouted, as the fish came even nearer to the pair and she struggled to keep up. Why did aquatic beings have to be so fast?

Dustin fell to his knees and sunk his hands into the mud, thinking back to how the other miners did it. They closed their eyes and it just happened.

He sighed and closed his eyes, ears straining to hear the other over his own pounding heart. He had barely become a miner. He was one of the newest members, in fact. And the miners he saw had years of experience…

He heard Rainy give a surprised shout, accompanied by a following wave and a loud “HEY!” from Astil. Things were escalating. He opened his eyes to find the three elves and the fish in the middle of the lake. Rainy was struggling to hold onto Spiel while also fighting alongside Astil to get the fish away, but the attacks weren’t effective. Rainy splashed a large amount of water at the fish, but it did nothing.

Fuck.

“C’mon,” He said, looking back at the ground and shutting his eyes tighter. He had to do this. If something happened, and someone got hurt before they needed to, then Astil would probably think he had forfeited his promise to her. For some reason, that seemed to be what was on his mind the most, not just the worry about his friends not dying at the hands of an ugly fish.

“C’mon.” He said, more forcefully as he opened his eyes and glared at the ground. “What’s your deal? I am trying to make you move! So do it!” He watched a moment longer before his frustration grew. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” The ground, of course, showed no responses what so ever.

He looked up towards the three again, eyes going wide. Spiel was separated from Rainy, and was struggling to swim with one wing, his arms, and his legs. Rainy was trying to reach him, but the fish had her foot in its mouth and no matter how Astil pried with the staff, the giant mouth didn’t budge.

He growled, finally giving in and standing so he could jump in, but froze when he felt something tug on his hands as he lifted them. He found a single vine wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. When he placed his hands back down, the vine withdrew.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped. More like it was muted. He was confused, but soon that confusion gave way to… Nothing.

He felt tired.

He tried to shake his head, to dispel the feeling, but it held on and forced his eyes closed, stubborn.

So was he.

And so the two stayed, the earthblood and the invisible force, fighting between conscious and unconscious…

Then he felt it.

There was a tremor in the ground. Then another. And another. Slow at first, minimal, then suddenly powerful.

His eyes shot open, astonished.

The earth was moving!

Waves crashed around the trio.

Rainy forced a circle of water around them, preventing the waves from rising over the three elves. The ground shook again.

She give a strained growl as she fought against the raging water and kept the circle, expecting the rumble to die down after a second like the last two times, but it didn't. It continued.

Suddenly, a giant rock platform shot out from the water, directly below where the fish was. It shot the creature up and into the air with enough force to kill. She couldn't help but smile. Ha.

That smile vanished as she looked down and saw another rising platform directly beneath them. Thinking it would be just as harsh, she tried to back away, but the rock extended to match her position.

It lifted slower than the other one, catching them all. Spiel, who had been holding onto Astil, practically fell once the startouch let him go. He was soaking, they all were, but his wings especially looked like they were weighed down heavily by water. As if to prove her point, Spiel tried to move his uninjured wing, only to drop it to the platform a moment later with the other, hurt one.

Astil had lost some of her glitter, but she lifted her head as she got to her feet, then smiled at the earthblood elf on the shore. Even Rainy couldn't help her smile. Still she couldn't help but shout "TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!" to the idiot.

The only response she recieved back was a laugh. Neat.

"Sooo.... What do we do with it?" Spiel asked from his place on a fallen tree, looking over the dead fish on the bank. "Ow, ow," He warned to Rainy, who shrugged with a soft 'sorry' as she wrapped a bandage around his wing. It was definitely broken. That wasn't good at all...

"We could always just push it back into the water." Dustin shrugged.

Rainy growled and threw a twig at the earthblood "Absolutely not. It could get stuck. We'll just have to leave it there. Some other animal can have it." Suddenly she tied something, putting a little too much sudden pressure on the wing. Spiel gave a loud, surprised squawk noise, naturally flapping his other wing to get her to back off. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry again. Okay, that should hold it into place until we get back to camp and stuff, but it'll work, right?" She looked up at him expectantly.

He couldn't help his own smile as he nodded.

"Are you done wasting time or-" Rainy threw another stick at Dustin as he spoke, but this time the earthblood came prepared and ducked out of the way. Spiel's eyes widened as the stick went straight for Astil, only for the startouch to reach up and catch it.

Even she seemed surprised as she looked at the stick in her hand. The light frown that had been adorning her face ever since they got out of the water suddenly changed into a bright smile. She stared at the stcik a moment longer, then smirked and said something in Dustin's ear, then promptly stepped back as Dustin himself smirked.

Yeah, no, not risking whatever they had planned. He fell behind the tree, only peaking over as Rainy looked back at Dustin, only for the ground to shake and knock the oceanmist to the ground, right into a pile of sticks.

"Hey-Ah!" She yelped as she fell, then growled once she realized what he had done. Spiel practically fell over laughing as Rainy suddenly got to her feet and began chasing the earthblood with eyes ready for the kill.

Even Astil looked amused, but there was... something else there too.. Something sad hid behind her smile...

What was wrong?

Finally.

The auction was finally over.

Gray released a sigh and prepared a bag of coins. Fifty... Not great, but in exchange for knowledge on who these strangers were? It would be worth it.

With a hum, he closed the bag and found his way to the area beside the stage, where the exchanges were being made. He waited until he and ste strangers were the last one there, then cleared his throat as he stepped forward. The shorter one seemed to light up as he saw the other. "There he is." He said to the taller, who gve a hum and followed. He was the one holding the weapon, but he was carrying it to be presented, not to be used. Good. "Fifty, right?" The smaller asked as Gray closed the distance as well.

Gray put on his kindest seeming smile. "Yes, indeed." He offered the bag, and the shorter stranger took it, while the taller handed over the dagger. It looked.. Smaller than Gray had been expecting. The grip was a thinner, as if it was made for one less finger. Like an elf's. He hid a grin as he looked it over again, closer. Thin lines danced over the silver of the blade, and upon an even further inspection than that, he realized that the dagger was, in fact, elven in make. His suspicion rose as the gears turned in his head. Again he was reminded of the ladybug in his pocket. He sighed. Not now. "I do have a few more questions about the blade if you are willing-"

Both 'men' had different responses at the exact same time. While the shorter happily said "Of course!" The other answered with "Absolutely not." Gray quirked an eyebrow at the pair. So many odd things.

"Well why not?" He asked the taller curiously and with a chuckle.

The smaller, in that moment Gray decided to call him Sunshine, looked at the taller, whom Gray opted to call Mystery and asked "Yeah, why not?"

Mystery went silent, before giving a scoffing sound and waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Three. No more."

Gray sighed, but nodded. Three questions. What could he accomplish with three questions?

Well... Perhaps he could find out if these two truly are what they seem to be...

"Where did you get this dagger?" He asked, looking it over and pretending not to see the way sunshine practically beamed.

"Actually, I made- Ow!"

Sunshine was cut off by a jab to the ribs by Mystery, who explained "We found it in an abandoned elven village by the border." Obviously a cover up... You would think possible elves would be smarter about their word choices.

Still, Gray nodded. So sunshine had made it. Which meant sunshine must be a smith. That idea filled Gray with excitement, actually. An elven smith. A sunfire smith even. And so soon after the last sunfire died. Not to mention that he had never had a sunfire smith before, only soldiers and an occasional mage. Smiths were far more rare, and infinitely more powerful in Gray's opinion. Especially with the ante unitum.. Now was the perfect time!

He paused when the two strangers shared an uneasy glance. Or, well, more precisely sunshine looked at Mystery and Mystery's lips tightened into a line. Gray cleared his throat, picking another question. "So it is elven?" He asked expectantly, receiving a hum and a nod from sunshine. Good. Now for the final test to see if sunshine was, in fact, a smith. Blacksmiths and Sunfire's alike were very prideful, so a sunfire smith should be double, correct? So if his creation were insulted... Gray gave a hum, fixing his attention to a spot on the blade where an odd scratch was placed. "It looks relatively bland to me."

A beat. Gray had to fight off a smirk as the pleasant smile slowly changed to the absolutely most offended look Gray had ever seen on anyone.

"Bland?" The sunfire asked. Then again, "Bland? That dagger is made with pure Xadian steel and polished with oils only found in-"

So he was, in fact, the creator. Mystery gave a growl, then roughly grabbed the sunfire's arm and began pulling him away. "That is enough." He said, even as Sunshine tried to keep himself planted in his spot.

"Do you have any idea how long it took to-" As Mystery dragged the yelling sunfire around the corner, a bit of sunshine's hood moved, revealing a circular, thorny mark on his cheek with the same tell-tale yellow as any other sunfire elf. There was no room for doubt now. This stranger was a sunfire elf. And what about Mystery? He certainly couldn't be sunfire, too cautious... But perhaps... Perhaps a moonshadow, judging by his wardrobe and quieter, more cautious attitude.

He expected a backlash for stealing the Unitum, of course, but this? This was better than he imagined.

He stalked away, finding an alley to hide in before he pulled out the ladybug as before. He laid it flat in his palm, then lit it on fire, letting the small thing turn to ash.  

"Meht wollof." He said, then tossed the ash into the air and watched as a slick black ladybug with red spots took to the sky, following the same path Sunshine and Mystery had taken moments before.

He chuckled, already thinking of the possibilities these two elves could provide. A sunfire smith and what was likely a moonshadow assassin. The possibilities were endless.

"I do so hope we meet again, sunshine."

#tdp tinker #tinker elf #tinker #tdp runaan #runaan #runaan x tinker #mod madi writes #searching

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Before & After - Ch. 4, Pt. 1. The Anniversary.

Title: Before and After - Chapter 4 Pt. 1

Characters: Jim Hopper x Reader

Word Count: 4084

Summary:  Dealing with the 1 year anniversary of her almost life-ending accident coming up soon, our character not only has to deal with how this makes her feel, but also how it’s making Jim feel. The anniversary.

Warnings:The first few chapters, not too much. There’s swearing, smoking, drinking, talk about death, mental illness, body image and the complicated feelings that come with living through these things. Further along there is more of the same and then that sweet, sweet smut some of you animals are after.

A/N: It’s the weekend ya’ll, have some more story. I’ll be posting both parts tonight, but since it is almost 8000 words, I wanted to split it up. 

This started out as just the urge to write some nice smut for you fine folks. It has grown into an over 20,000 word (so far) exploration. There is lots of fluff and romance, sexual tension, will they/won’t they feelings. There is smut later on, I promise, just stay with me on this. I believe this is called a slow burn.

All other chapters on my Masterlist.

Here are the tagged folks, if you’d like to be added or removed, just leave a reply and I’ll see it! Any positive feedback is also appreciated. :) Thanks!

@whatmakesmebeme-tblr @sleepylunarwolfh @elevenofmages @alahmorah @norcula @undiscl0sed-desir3s @atari-writes @jobean12-blog@miss-harleenquinzel @kiwiphroot @ashphoenix105 @ambeazyyy@riotguuuurl​ @warriorqueen1991​ @misbehaving-f0r-days @divadinag​ @flamehairedwritings

You decide to wear your hair in big soft waves, your makeup just a bit more than natural. You search for a coat to wear while in your underwear, to keep from messing up your dress. You were feeling surprisingly well. You were slowly pushing that bad mood cloud that always seemed to hover above you away, at least temporarily. 

You decide on a basic black leather jacket. It's never let you down. You look at the clock, 4:30, you better get your clothes on now. You're listening to music and watching yourself move in your new dress in your mirror, looking yourself over one last time. Your hair had grown out over the scar on your head and concealed it for the most part; a small stretch of it creeping out of your hairline on the side of your face. You were confident in your body and what it could do again. You had come so far. But your makeup took too long to start crying over your pride. You were glad you got on board with this. You hear the growing rumble of the Blazer in the distance and you feel that anxious wiggling in your gut again. You give yourself a stern look in the mirror, pointing a finger at yourself. "Don't you go feeling nervous. Cut the bullshit, lady, we've got a night to enjoy." You hear him knock on the door as you shut your bedroom door. You walk up to grab your purse off of the kitchen counter and look at Jim over your shoulder as he walks through the door. He keeps his eyes on the keys in his hands while he announces his arrival. "I'm here, sweetheart. You ready to go?" he doesn't look up until he's shut the door behind him. You're already making your way across the floor to him. His eyes wander down your body as you move closer. You take the time to appreciate the effort he's put forth for you this evening. He's wearing a big navy wool coat over a grey shirt, dark pants with nice boots. With his hair combed back and his beard tamed, he looked so handsome. Your eyes meet, you both smile sheepishly at each other for a moment. He takes the time to swallow and wet his lips, giving you an obvious flirty once over, "Well, look at you..." he grins, he reaches up and rubs his chin before holding his hand up to motion you to give him a twirl. You roll your eyes but oblige his request. "You better be glad you're with the Chief of police tonight, looking like that." he pauses, giving you a charming smile. "You look like trouble in that outfit, sweetheart." his tone changing into something less dark and more friendly, he shakes his head. "I mean that as a compliment," he adds, leaning into you just a bit. "The kind of trouble I'd wanna get into." he lets out a small awkward laugh. You smile and swat your hand at him, "Oh, go on..." you laugh and reach out,  smoothing the lapels on his jacket as he watches you. "I feel a little bit like trouble tonight." give him a small sly smile, scrunching your nose at him. "You look very handsome in this. " you say, changing the subject. "Thanks," he replies hesitantly. "But I think people are going to wonder why a beautiful woman like you is out with a big monster like me."  he smiles down at you. "Oh don't be ridiculous Jim." You playfully smack his chest, "No one's even going to notice you with me around." he lets out a snort of a laugh. "There she is," he says happily, embracing you. "You seem a bit more like your old self tonight." your arms are pinned between you, hands on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat, he smelled so nice. He releases his grip on you. "I feel..." you take a deep breath in, "...good. Better than good." you raise your eyebrows at him. "I can tell, it looks good on you." he smiles at you, "You ready?" he asks, adjusting his coat. "Whenever you are." He turns to the door, switching off the lights. "Do I get to know where we're going?" you follow him to his Blazer. "I'm taking you somewhere nice." he says, opening the car door and holding your hand as you climb in. "It's a little bit of a drive but, should be worth it." He says as he shuts the door for you and you watch him make the walk to the other side of the vehicle, wondering what he's come up with. You'd been driving for over half an hour, and you were not sure where you were at. The road was quiet and the scenery beautiful. You watched all the colors of the sunset on the trees. You still hadn't asked where you were going again, although the anticipation was killing you. The music played softly through the speakers of Jim's blazer. His knuckles were white from the grip he'd been putting on the steering wheel. You weren't sure if you should be nervous too. "There wouldn't happen to be food where we're going is there?" You ask as a hunger pang starts to divert your attention. "Of course there is. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't do something that involved food?" he laughs and keeps his eyes on the road. "You wouldn't be." you laugh. "If you were my friend you'd know better." "Exactly. You're not going to get hungry and cranky tonight. There will be plenty of food, I promise." he continues laughing and reaches over and pats your leg. Usually, only a casual, friendly touch became suddenly much more intimate as he'd forgotten there wasn't fabric covering your legs. He freezes for a few seconds longer than necessary, his fingers having had landed between your thighs.  You look over at him, but he refuses to acknowledge the electricity buzzing in the air. You see the lump in his throat bob up and down as his face falls straight. His hands returning to the wheel, keeping his eyes on the road, you didn't say too much the rest of the drive. You finally pull off onto a smaller road and Hopper clears his throat. "We're almost there." You sit up straight and smooth out your dress. "Anything looking familiar yet?" he asks, glancing over at you. You turn your face to the window, shaking your head. "No...should it?" You said, worried you were already messing up the evening. "Maybe." he looks back to the road. The closed in trees on either side of the road start to thin and open to reveal a huge log building. "The Overlook." you read aloud. It seemed to be a hotel with a restaurant and bar. It was a big beautiful wooden monster of a building in the middle of nowhere. It almost felt familiar but then again, your memory wasn't the best. You were sure you'd never been to this hotel before though. "That sounds so familiar." you said under your breath. Jim's eyes watched your face focus. "They finished this place up just a few months ago." he says, rolling up the entrance and pulling up the valet. "This place has Valet? James, you are spoiling this woman tonight." you say both impressed with and picking on him. "Anything for you, babe." he says with a charming glance, as the valet pulls open your doors. You trot in your heels up to the door, waiting as Jim spoke to the valet. You look around, take a deep breath of the air as it was starting to chill. This place was gorgeous. You didn't deserve all this. He saunters up the walkway. He moved smoothly towards you, putting his arm around your shoulders as you walk through the grand entrance of the hotel. You move into the restaurant, it's dark, it's gorgeous and you don't remember the last time you were in a place this nice. He leans into your ear, almost whispering his voice is so low. "Go wait at the bar if you don't mind, I have to check the reservations." he says, placing his hand on the small of your back. You nod and find a nice spot, a friendly bartender appears. "You must be Mrs. Hopper." she says cheerfully, "Would you like a drink?" You are confused, but maybe she just saw the reservation and assumed? "Sure, why not?" you pause to think, "I"m celebrating tonight, have anything to suit that?" "Congrats, and yes! We have a birthday special, would you be interested in that? It doesn't have to be your birthday to order it though." she winks. "Sounds great, thank you." she begins to make the drink. "You mistakenly called me Mrs. Hopper when I came in? May I ask why?" you try to ask casually. "Oh, I'm sorry! I just knew there was a reservation for the whole balcony tonight for Hopper party of two, and I assumed. My apologies." she lowers her head as she keeps making the drink. "Rented out the whole balcony?" you ask, your jaw going a bit slack in surprise. "Yes, it's terribly romantic isn't it?" she says, smiling. She hands you your big, obnoxious, fruity, party drink. She walks to another side of the bar. You sip on the sickeningly sweet drink as you're pondering this newly found information,  then Jim slides up next to you. "Come here often, gorgeous?" he asks, grinning and leaning on the bar. You can't help but smile. You turn yourself towards him, flipping your hair over your shoulder. "No. I don't. In fact, another man brought me here tonight." you say flirtatiously. A full laugh comes from him, he runs his hand through his hair. "Well, you don't mind if I steal you from him, do you?" he says, gesturing away from the bar to another large room. "Of course not. You're much more handsome than he is anyway." you say, placing your hand on his chest and lightly dragging it across him as you walk away from him, you hear him laugh again. "Don't go running off so fast, sweetheart." He picks up your drink and follows you. You stop in the threshold of the room. You glance as up as you turn to look back at him. But you see an entire huge wall of glass with a stone balcony on the other side. It looked out over a huge valley of fall colored trees as the sun was just starting to fall between two of the mountains. It was possibly the most picturesque moment you'd ever experienced. You start to slowly walk towards the door to the balcony, you feel Jim behind you. "You remember it now?" he says, as he passes you, holding the door out for you. You walk out to the ledge, a huge drop off into nothing but golden hues, with pinks, purples, and yellows from the setting sun. The Overlook. The building being here made you not recognize the place. You hadn't been here since you were young. But how does he even know about all that? "Jim..." you say softly, reaching backward for him and not taking your eyes off the view. "I remember this." he stands silently, holding your hand, watching you. "How did you know...?" you trail off, awestruck. "A certain Aunt of yours might've told me about you coming here in the summer." he said, looking out. "I can see why you'd like this place so much." Flo. Of course. But, why would she tell him about this place? You're pulled from the thought by a sudden warmth to your right. You look over and see an employee lighting a giant fireplace. You turn and slowly walk towards it and put your arms around yourself, getting lost in the memories that came with thinking about your long summer nights at the overlook. "Your meal is ready Mr. Hopper." a young boy says. You turn and look over at Jim. He holds his arms out over one of the tables. "Ready when you are, sweetheart." his voice was so patient. Tears were trying to form in your eyes because you had so many emotions. You let him scoot in your chair and you sit alone together after you order, you stare, admiring the valley. "You know this is absolutely ridiculous, Jim." you turn your head lazily to make eye contact. You see his face fall and his jaw tighten. "No, I'm not complaining. " You shake your head and give him a warm smile. "At all. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. This is just, I say too much but I mean it's just...overwhelming in a good way." you try to convey you aren't in the least bit critiquing his choices. He lets out a heavy breath. "That's a relief." he closes his eyes for a moment to calm back down. He turns to look at the view and you get a good long look at him. For a giant goober, he's pretty handsome. You notice the way the sun hits his eyes, the way the golden hour light softened his hard expression. You feel yourself begin to get a little flustered. Was it hot in here or was it him or...you...or....no you're actually sweating? You're actually hot. You were close enough to the fire and it was giving you enough heat to where you didn't need the coat anymore. Shit. Now he's gonna see you without the jacket on, it had been subconsciously working as a security blanket for you. This was so damn romantic and you're all dolled up and this was starting to feel like a different type of anniversary. You didn't deserve this. "I'm getting hot." you mumble, unzipping your coat. Jim tuts at you and rises to take your coat. You give him a look of "Really?" You stand and turn around to give in. "Such a gentleman." you kid with him as he takes your coat off, hanging it on your chair. Here is the moment you've been pretending to not be anxious about. There's no reason to be anxious, Jim has even seen you naked before. Although that had been in a completely nonsexual situation. Not in a man looking at woman's body who is capable of doing the things that one would think about when looking at a woman that looks like you do right now. He's quiet and his eyes get a little dark, he's looking over your body, seemingly not even caring if you can tell. He sighs and takes his bottom lip into his mouth and he looks up and into your eyes. "You should be glad I'm such a gentleman with you looking like this." You feel the heat in between your legs first, and your face soon follows. He can see you blushing. Way to play it cool. He's never been this aggressive with you when it came to flirting, you were impressed by it honestly. He stood confidently, smirking at you. "Come on, gorgeous." he said softly, motioning to your chair. You hold eye contact with him until you turn to sit back down, wearing an unsure but flirty face. You share stories of the summers spent at the overlook. You drink, you eat, the inside of the restaurant has filled out by the time the moon is in the sky. The fire is warm, your heart and stomach are full. Jim has outdone himself and you realize now you're going to have to pay him back for tonight, you still feel a tad guilty. "How did you pull this off, Jim? The whole balcony is empty but us." you use your hand motioning to the other tables, all empty. A cocky grin appears on his face. "Well, I am the Chief of Police you know." he says playfully shrugging. "The title has its perks on occasion." "Look at you, pulling clout to get 'Lil 'ol me an entire balcony to myself. " You lean forward on the table with your elbows, your chest heaving itself out of your dress just slightly, " Ya didn't have to do all this just to get me alone, Chief." You take a slow sip of your drink. He smiles at you, but this smile brings back that heat to your inner thighs. His eyes are dark, his brow low. His mouth pulled into a sly closed mouth smile. In time to break the tension, the dessert cart rolls around and before you can even think about it, Jim says, "One of everything please, pack it with the stuff to go." he smiles charmingly at the young girl pushing the cart who nods and walks away. Your mouth hangs open. You dart your eyes around in surprise. "What the...Who is this handsome man throwing money and his name around for me? Well, I declare, what have you done with my dusty 'ol curmudgeon, Hop?  " you purposely up your southern accent and give him a coy smile, fanning your face with your hand. He laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges. "Not gone anywhere, sweetheart." he tosses his napkin onto the tabletop, crossing the table to pull out your chair. "I told you I wanted to give you a great night." he puts your coat on you. "Well you're doing an unbelievable job." you say encouragingly. He puts his arm around your shoulders and you start out of the restaurant. Jim places the large bags of take out into the back of the Blazer. You drive back in the direction you came. "Can I ask if we're going home now?" you say, taking off your heels. "Of course you can and yes, we're going back to the cabin." "But I'm assuming the night isn't over?" you ask, looking out the window. "Far from it." Neither of you talk much on the way back. You're feeling great, full of food, alcohol, and compliments. You don't feel the need to make small talk. You pull up to the cabin, you put your heels back on. "Mind if I ask why you wore those?" he asks as he holds open your door, offering you his hand to get out. "Flo."  you answer quickly, a hint of agitation in your voice. He laughs and nods, understanding. "Don't get me wrong, they look great." he says walking ahead of you. "I agree. They just aren't the most practical things to walk to a cabin in the woods in the dark in." you complain as you slowly cross your front yard. "You said it, not me." he laughed and opened the door before you were up to the stairs and shuts it, standing in front of it, almost as big as the door itself.  " I'm gonna go in first and I'll be back in just a minute, okay?" You shrug and nod. More surprises. He slides in the door with the bags of food and you hear his movement through the door. He slides back out a few minutes later. "I want to surprise you so I'm gonna cover your eyes and walk you in." You let out an annoyed groan. "You have to cover my eyes? What am I 8?" you asked with faux exasperation. "Oh come on..." he says pleadingly, walking behind you and putting his hands on your face. You place your hands on his. He directs you, pushing your legs with his to the far side of the cabin. He takes his hands off, onto your shoulders. "Okay, look now." You blink as your eyes adjust to the light. In front of you sits an old piano against one of the walls of the cabin. You drop your hands and look back at Jim. "Jim...you didn't..." "I did." he beams. "You didn't! Jim!" you squeak out in excitement as you reach to smack him. He laughs and watches you gawk at the piano. "I know I didn't have to. But I wanted to." he said, you trace your fingers across the keys. You hadn't played piano since before you had to have the physical therapy on your hand. You just hadn't picked it back up, but you missed it dearly. "I don't remember telling you I missed playing." you sat on the old bench. "You didn't have to." he said, standing over you. "I wanted tonight to be about making you happy." he pauses for a moment." So I thought about the happiest I've ever seen you, and that was at the new year's party 2 years ago, playing that piano and singing. The high school got some money and they got new ones so I got one of the older ones for you." You smiled at the memory of the party. "The old ones sound better anyway." you say dreamily, giving the piano a good look over. You stand and put Jim's face between your hands, he's smiling like a dope, very proud of himself. "Jim. Chief Hopper. Closest confidant, biggest pain in my ass..." you proclaim, speaking loudly to his big face in your hands. You're beaming at him with shock and happiness. "You are amazing and wonderful and I don't know what I did to deserve this but thank you." you declare. "I'm uncomfortable with how happy I am right now." you release his face and see yet another surprise behind him as you lightly smack his cheek to push him to the side and walk past him as he lets out a laugh and follows you around again. "WHAT IN THE BLUE HELL IS THIS?" you shout gesturing with both arms towards the huge projector now occupying a wall in your cabin. "Now, that you don't get to keep." he starts and laughs. "I have some kids in AV club, owe me a favor so I had them hook this up for us." You stand there with your mouth open and don't know what to say to all this. This is a new feeling. You see the spread of food he's put on the counter with alcohol and junk food and you feel a little dizzy. You go over and plop onto the couch, looking at the projection set up, overwhelmed. "I love this, this is perfect, you're so smart." you babble, grabbing his arm as he sits next to you.  He might've even blushed at your words. He sits there in silence as you process all this. He hoped he hadn't gone too overboard. "You good?" he asks, pushing your hair back. "Yeah," you nod,  a little dazed. "I'm great, don't worry." you look at him, wide-eyed. "Just...this is a lot for a girl to take in, Hop." you give him a  kind laugh and look around the room. "I probably shouldn't tell you about the-" he begins as your head whips towards him, your eyes wild. He doesn't even get out his lie before he starts laughing at your expression. "I'm just kidding. I'm glad you're happy." he says softly. "I am." you say, standing up. You hang your coat up and pull on some slippers. You start looking over the deserts from the restaurant, the fire is roaring and Jim starts up the projector, turning the lights out. The fire giving the room a golden hue. You found yourself once again being surprised by how picturesque your evening was. You settled on the couch with Jim, alcohol, and sweets. You both thoroughly enjoy yourself for the evening, doing what you had suggested all along; watch some dumb shit, get drunk, all that good feeling junk.

 But now it's gotten late.

#jim hopper #chief hopper #stranger things #stranger things 2 #david harbour #hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #stranger things fic #fan fic #stranger things fan fic #smut #fluff #reader insert #jim hopper x fluff #chief hopper x fluff #jim hopper x smut #chief hopper x smut

[naryrising]

Writing questions! I was tagged by @lotors-saltwife

What is your total word count on AO3?

853,755

How often do you write?

Probably about 3-4 days a week. Usually in the evenings, after I've done whatever other stuff I had to do.  Unfortunately if there are enough other things I have to do, then writing gets pushed back.  (This is often dependent on “did something go wrong with AO3 today, so I have a million support issues to deal with?”)

Do you have a routine for writing?

Sit down at the computer, open a file, write? I guess I have some preferences.  I prefer not to have a lot of background noise or distractions (but living in a house with other humans, sometimes it's inevitable - I can work anyway, I just dislike it).  I don't like to listen to music while I write, except occasionally instrumental music.  If the music has words, it makes it harder for my brain to make other words go.  If I'm writing porn, sometimes it helps to have a little drinky drink (cider is my fave) but not more than one or I'll just get loopy and/or sleepy.  I like writing with online companionship - word wars are great for productivity.  Usually for me that's @measured-words or @lotors-saltwife or both :)

What are your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing?

Kinks: where you wanna start?  Polyamory, rough sex (biting, scratching, bruising, hairpulling, slapping, spanking, etc.), inversion/subversion of 'traditional' gender roles (e.g. femdom, crossdressing) or of 'expected' relationship roles (e.g. smaller/weaker partner topping/domming, subs topping from the bottom, a partner who seems shy becoming more assertive in the bedroom, etc.), D/s dynamics, service submission, power imbalance, BDSM, piercings, scars, bloodplay, painplay, breathplay, dubcon, drunk or drugged sex, awkward sex, sex where things don't go perfectly, established relationships, developing relationships, first times, trying new things, pregnant sex, watersports, fisting, non-penetrative sex (penetrative sex is also great, but variety/acknowledgement that it's not the only way is nice!), frottage, pegging, size kink, orgasm control/denial, masturbation, dirty talk (and communication in general during sex), friends-with-benefits, semi-public sex (as in, places where one could get caught/overheard), having one's previously-assumed sexual orientation challenged by unexpected feelings for someone of the 'wrong' sex... I could go on but that's probably plenty :)

Tropes: I'm a big fan of found family, of snarking couples, and of working together against an obstacle leading to unexpected feelings.  

Pairing: Can't pick, too many. I can like almost any pairing if it's done well.

Do you have a favorite fic of yours?

Ugh it's like picking a favourite kid. Maybe On Lighting, Which Occasionally Strikes Twice  or Pro Anima Dilecti Sui  or From Rome to Brundisium, With Stops  - but ask me on a different day and I’d probably give a different answer.

Your fic with the most kudos? 

None Of Us Are Whole (Theon/Sansa porn)

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

Sure, some.  I wish I was better at longer stories - sustaining a plot over many chapters - but I'm not.  My natural writing length is in the 1000-8000 word range, more than that starts to feel really difficult. I've been working on trying to expand that but it isn't something that comes easily to me.  

And sometimes I feel like my sex scenes are boring and repetitive but I think that is just something that happens when you've written a lot of them.  I try to remind myself that most readers aren't reading all my porn, and thus probably won't notice if I've used something like a particular phrase or thought before.      

Now something you do like (about your writing)?

I think I do a good job at dialogue and witty banter.  I can write funny things (at least, they're funny to me) which I think is rare when combined with porn.  And I think I can do a good job of emulating particular distinctive styles/voices - pastiche comes pretty easily to me if I've absorbed the canon thoroughly enough.    

Tagging: @spokespider @brigdh @paliseizy @genevriel @inklingdancer @sarking @libraralien or anyone else who wants to do it :)

#writing asks #my writing

[theclintbartonbraindump]

Hello + a drabble

Hello friends! Hi, how is everyone? Good year so far? 

So, I realized that I hadn’t really posted anything of substance since December and I felt really bad so I wanted to come on here and give you guys a quick update. I have not been idle! I promise! I’m working on a new project (a big project) that has absolutely consumed me creatively. I’ve had like three existential crises over this thing let me tell you. I’m hoping it won’t be too much longer before I can start sharing it with you guys because I have like five chapters already that I’m just dying to post! And I’m not even halfway through writing this story! I wanted to be sure that I was in a secure enough place with the story before I started to post because, honestly, my number one pet peeve with when authors start to post a multi-chapter fic and then just stop partway through. I get it, the creative process is hard, but I don’t want to leave you guys hanging like that so I promise the wait will be worth it.

I really am so excited to share though. I’ll be honest, the theme I’m working with has kind of been done before, but I’m hoping you guys will like my take on it. I think it will be different enough to still be interesting.

In the meantime though, like I said I felt really bad for going radio silent for so long so I took a break from my primary project and wrote up a quick little drabble for you guys. I say little, it’s 1500 words. But hey I just finished writing a chapter that’s literally 8000 so I feel like 1500 is drabble length for me. I don’t really have a title for it. In fact, it’s saved on my computer under ‘word vomit’ so I’ve just decided to very lovingly and aptly dub this and all future drabbles I post ‘Brain Dumps’.

I’m rambling, I’m sorry!

This is Clint Barton x Reader per usual. For some context, this takes place about a year after the end of Endgame. 

Warnings: Implied sexual content, cheating, a shit ton of angst.

He crawls in through the half-open window around a quarter to eleven. You’d left the window open to try to relieve at least a fraction of the oppressive, New York summer heat, but then again maybe you were subconsciously hoping he’d slip in. You pretend to be asleep, knowing full well you can’t fool him. It’s not that you want him to leave, it’s just been a long day and the emotional turmoil of him sliding into bed next to you may just be the last straw. You don’t want to do that to him. Not with everything he’s dealing with. He’d offer to listen if you wanted to vent, but when you’ve tried to talk before, he always just gets kind of spacey. Like he wants to listen, but his conscience won’t let him. You don’t mind anymore. You two moved past pleasantries a long time ago. He’s not a cruel man, not anymore at least, and he’d be there for you if he could, he just has other priorities. You understand. If you had been one of those fortunate souls to get everyone they loved back this probably wouldn’t even be happening. But then again, he got everyone back and he’s still here with you.

The first time he’d worn his ring in front of you, you’d wanted to cry, scream, tell him to get out. But as you lay there with him above you, chasing not just his own release but yours as well, you realized just how little it mattered. He’d lost everything and over the course of five years, he became a different person. Trauma changes you, but continued trauma like that which he experienced, shapes you. Then everyone came back and he was supposed to just be the same man, but that’s not how it works. You can’t unshape yourself. Maybe you can try to chip away at the rough edges but deep down the core of who you are is still something completely different. You accepted that about him. Maybe you were the only one that did.

There’s a ghost of a kind-hearted man behind his eyes, the same eyes that have seen so much death and anguish. But that man was swallowed up by sorrow six years ago and has never been able to reach the light again. You wish you could say that you felt the same pain he did and maybe a year ago you would have, but things have changed now. You didn’t get anyone back. The snap didn’t take them, the car crash that followed did. You still feel the loss and really just emptiness. That same loss is what shaped him, but it’s not the pain he feels now. What he feels is regret and the feeling that he’s let down the ones that he loves. Not because of you, in reality the times when he’s with you seem to be the only times that he’s able to silence all that. It’s why he came to you in the first place, it’s why he’s here now.

His feet land silently on the floor and then he turns to close the window behind him. He must want to talk; you live on a busy street and he gets annoyed when he has to talk over traffic noise. The two of you don’t talk often when he comes to see you, but when you do it’s usually well into the next morning before you give into sleep. Sometimes he stays, he even made you breakfast once, but usually, he’s gone before you wake up.

You hear him shuffling about your room as he expertly avoids the clothes you left strewn about the floor earlier before collapsing into bed. You peek out from underneath your comforter in time to catch him ease himself down onto the edge of your bed and toe-off his shoes before rather gingerly ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, save for his boxers. It isn’t unusual for him to come to see you battered and bruised and you’re no stranger to patching him up. You could probably award yourself an advanced certification in first aid with the number of minor surgeries you’ve done on him.

He stands and moves around the bed to pull the covers back on his side. When did it become his side? When did you intentionally start leaving space for him in your bed? You’re not sure. If you’re being honest, you can’t even remember how you met him anymore. Maybe he saved you at some point. Maybe you saved him. Maybe you’re both killing each other. But once again you realize just how little it matters because he’s here for you and you’re here for him and that will always be true for as long as he wants you.

Finally, with what sounds like a very pained grunt he lays back against the pillow and turns to his side, facing you. He opens his arms and without even thinking or a moment’s hesitation you move into them. It catches you off guard when his arms close around you like a vise grip and he leans his head down to bury his face in your hair. You expect him to go for your underwear, the only article of clothing you hadn’t thrown across the room earlier, but he doesn’t move. He just holds you.

You wrap your arm that isn’t sandwiched between your bodies around him and he pulls you impossibly closer until your legs are entwined. You’re about to look up and ask him what this is all about when you feel his chest start to shake faintly. In all the time you’ve known him, with all the pain the two of you have shared with each other, he’s never once cried in front of you.

You look up to meet his eyes and are met with a storm of emotions that he’s never let you see before. You bring a gentle, reassuring hand to his cheek and he turns into it and grasps it like a lifeline. He looks at you and you think it may be the first time he really allowing himself to see you. His face tells you everything you need to know at that moment. Where there was once a mask of cautious distance there is now only honesty and surrender. You get the feeling that he’s giving a part of himself to you that he hasn’t let anyone else have in a very long time.

The damn breaks and he falls apart when you reach your arms around his neck and pull him to you. You hold him and he cries and then after a while your tears mix with his because there really isn’t any point in holding them back anymore. You want to heal him, to make him whole again, but you know it’s just a fool’s hope. Neither of you will ever be whole again, really, and you both know it. But you feel closer to completeness now than you have since even before the snap. You think he must be feeling the same with the way he’s holding you to him.

In the back of your mind, you register that there’s no metal sliding against your skin where his left hand his gripping your hip. There’s a part of you that thinks you should be happy about that, but all you feel is the despondency that he’s weeping into you.

You never want him to be unhappy, no matter the circumstances.

You want to ask. If you did, he’d probably give you an honest answer, but now isn’t the time. Whatever it is, is still too raw. So, you hold him, for as long as it takes for him to shed all his tears and breath just one even breathe.

You wonder for a while as you lay there if you should say something or should you just let him sleep, but it doesn’t seem that he’s going to be at peace any time soon. You know there’s nothing you can say to make it better, but you ask him if there’s anything you can do, all the same. The tension eases out of him at the first sound of your voice and he rolls over to his back. He’s quiet for several long moments and even when he answers you, he doesn’t speak. He reaches an arm out for you and pulls you to his chest again, kissing the top of your head when you lay it over his heart. Something about the way he’s holding you seems like both a final word and a promise and you panic a little as you wonder if this is the last time you’ll see him.

He must sense your distress because he brings a hand up to your face, pulling you up to look at him. His lips meet yours in a kiss that seers your soul and imprints on your brain. It’s everything you want to say to each other but aren’t strong enough to manage yet. Tomorrow there would be questions and more than that there would need to be answers, but right now you’re more than enough for him and he’s more than enough for you and, for right now, that’s enough.

[darkfalcon-z]

You cannot take it back, make it undone. Chapter 5

dbz au, Gohan, Raditz,  over 5000 words (together with footnotes), GEN,  space fantasy/soft science fiction/slice of life

warnings for: child abuse, manipulation, consumption of non-human sapient life forms.

special thanks to Over-8000 for beta reading this chapter for me

on AO3

chapter 1, previous chapter, chapter directory

next chapter 

One day Raditz brought an alien with him. For a supposed adult, it was a rather smallish creature with bluish-grey fur and a horse-like face. Despite the appearance it was most certainly a person of some kind, as clothes and jewellery indicated sapience.

"Kill this thing," Raditz ordered and dropped the being on the ground.

Utterly terrified, Gohan noticed the creature was already badly injured, too injured to get away, despite that they were frantically trying to move. They couldn't stand, so they tried to crawl until they collapsed on the ground and squawked in pain.

"Why?" Despite how frightened he was Gohan could not help but ask, a small hint of rebellion barely audible in his voice.

"Just do it! It's a part of your training," Raditz stated impatiently.

"I don't want to." Gohan braced himself in anticipation for the upcoming blow.

Raditz smacked him hard and Gohan fell to the ground.

"Stupid, fucking, brat! We don't have time for this!" Raditz shouted furiously but soon cooled down. He crouched next to Gohan, who still lay on the ground. Gohan pointedly did not look at him.

"What's the matter? Don't you know how to kill? I have shown you how to concentrate your power, but if you still can't do that there's plenty of things you can use. Just find a hard, sharp stick and stab them or hit them with a stone."

By the concerned tone of his voice, already absent of earlier anger, Gohan could tell Raditz was trying to be understanding and helpful. It did not help how macabre the whole situation seemed.

Raditz knew that some cubs just needed a little help to get a hold on killing their victims. It certainly wasn't abnormal. Some cubs would show curiosity or attempt to play with their prey. Of course, cubs just learning to kill were usually much younger than this one. It usually happened when the cubs started to live exclusively on solid food, or in more recent years before the destruction of Planet Vegeta, when they left their incubators. So it was no surprise they did not know what to do with their prey and how. He knew for certain this particular cub had never killed anything, save for small water mollusc, and he frankly thought that did not count as a legitimate kill. The obvious conclusion was that the brat would need Raditz’s help.

"I crippled them for you. They are no danger, you can safely approach. It's going to be an easy kill," he explained. "They're weak, you can strangle them or kick and punch them till they are dead." Maybe the cub needed just a little more assurance, a little more guidance.

"It's cowardly to attack someone who can't fight back," Gohan mumbled and refused to look at him.

"Oh, that." Raditz brightened. "It's good that you are so spirited and eager for a challenge. But I think it's still too early for you to fight an uninjured opponent."

"No. I won't do it," Gohan protested stubbornly.

"Fine! They are going to die anyway," Raditz spat. "It's just a matter of time." With those words, he left.

Gohan sat by the dying alien. He didn't know what to do, how to make things better. Even breathing looked painful for the creature. Whenever Gohan looked at their face, he could tell how frightened they were. But he couldn't do or say anything to help them. He tried not to cry, but couldn't stop his tears.

Then something unexpected happened. The alien raised their hand weakly and brushed it against Gohan's. He looked at the being’s face, but he could not read their expression. Was that a reassurance or a plea? He could only guess.

Finally, after what it seemed like forever, the alien died. Gohan did not leave the spot of his vigil until Raditz returned.

"You didn't do it after all," Raditz accused and then smacked Gohan for the second time that day.

"It was just pointlessly cruel, you know," Raditz said. He wouldn’t think much about pointless cruelty if it was more straightforward and actively inflicted. Raditz guessed to each their own, but passive observation of someone’s prolonged painful death wasn’t really a Saiyan thing. Worse yet, it took a lot of time. Saiyans killed easy victims quickly, mostly because they wanted finish their work as quickly as possible. And it wasn’t as if they had any personal grudges towards their victims, that would warrant dealing a painful death. Such behaviour from the cub could delay their work. Something had to be done about it.

Gohan sat back up, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

"They would suffer shorter if you just killed them," Raditz added and knelt by the dead body.

"They wouldn't suffer at all if you hadn't hurt them in the first place," Gohan mumbled.

Raditz gave him a stern look. "I told you, you are not ready. I'm responsible for you, you know? I don't want you to get seriously injured in this phase of your training, and I sure as hell don't want you killed."

Gohan clenched his fists in frustration. That was not what he meant at all. But he was tired, he didn't want to talk to Raditz any longer.

Raditz did not pay attention to Gohan's mood. Instead, he tore off one of the corpse’s arms and threw it at the boy.

"Here. Eat it," he ordered.

Gohan looked at him, mortified.

"What?! No! I can't! It's disgusting," he protested loudly. The prospect of eating a dead alien disturbed him greatly.

Raditz, who was in the foul mood already, wanted none of Gohan’s attitude. He grabbed Gohan by the hair on the side of latter's head, lifted the boy up and shook him painfully.

"Yes, you will," he drawled. "You need to eat. You're too thin already. If you lose any more weight, it is going to be bad for your health. And after today, you don't deserve anything better. So you will eat or I'm going to force it down your throat."

He dropped Gohan back to the ground.

"So? What’s it's going to be, brat?" he asked angrily.

"Can I at least cook it,"Gohan pleaded weakly. Even though he WAS hungry, he didn't want to eat any part of the dead alien. It was a person. This was eating a PERSON. Gohan felt this was wrong. He couldn't exactly explain why, but the thought disgusted him. But he also didn't want to be beaten any more. He was too tired to argue.

"Fine, if you can start a fire in 5 minutes," Raditz agreed.

Hastily, with shaking hands Gohan searched for suitable fuel in the nearby scrub. He managed to find enough dry branches to build a small heap and he lit it with his concentrated energy.

Raditz nodded with approval.

Gohan did not know how to cook properly something so large and while usually, Raditz would patiently answer his questions, now Gohan was too scared to ask and too nervous to improvise. He just settled for skewering the arm with a stick and putting it over the fire.

He could tell from the mean chuckle behind him that was not the correct thing to do. Unfortunately, Raditz did not feel generous enough to help him out.

Soon he had to rescue the scorching arm from the fire, as the stick broke and it fell down into flames. He heard Raditz laugh, then approach. Gohan feared that Raditz would force him to eat the practically raw meat.

Raditz crouched next to him. He peered around and chose a few more sticks from the pile Gohan had gathered earlier. First, Raditz stacked two smaller, forked branches at opposite sides of the fire. Next he lifted the forsaken arm from the ground and skewered it lengthwise with the longest stick from the pile. Once this was done, he secured the makeshift broach on the two supports.

"You need to rotate it slowly, otherwise it'll get charred on one side and still be raw on the other," he instructed. "You can make a grill too, but you’ll need more sticks."

"Thank you," Gohan peeped weakly. He didn't really think Raditz deserved much thanks, but it was good manners and Mom would be pleased that he had shown good manners.

Raditz just gave him an odd look. He tended to do that when Gohan thanked him for something.

"Whatever, brat," he brushed it off. "Just don't be so difficult next time."

He stayed with the cub to make sure the boy ate the unappetising limb. He snorted at the faces the cub made while he picked through the disgusting meat.

Maybe this was the problem; the creature he had brought for the cub to train with smelled completely unappealing. It was perfectly edible and rich with protein and fat - a good supplement for the cub's diet - but it tasted TERRIBLE. A Saiyan could tell that by smell alone when it came to meat. He certainly wouldn't touch it if he wasn't starving. Maybe the cub did not recognize the alien as a viable source of food?

But Raditz knew for sure the cub had to be very hungry so he did not expect problems concerning the unappetising alien. He had assumed that the cub would just do what comes naturally. So, what went wrong? The brat could have some hang-up about unappetising food. It was rare, but not unheard of among Saiyan children. That would explain why he had no interest in killing whatsoever.

It didn't explain why the boy had opposed his direct order, but cubs weren't exactly the most rational creatures. Maybe if he hadn't reacted so violently toward the first signs of disobedience from the cub, he would be able to goad the brat into killing. Maybe the brat had opposed him just for the thrill of getting into a confrontation? That had to be it. Or... maybe he had overlooked something. It just seemed off for some reason. But he saw no better explanation. Next time, he decided, he would bring something more suitable for Saiyan culinary tastes and see how the cub reacted.

*** Raditz squatted on the ground forearms resting on his knees and hands in front of him. Gohan crouched in similar position next to him. Another heavily wounded alien laid nearby, too hurt or too tired to move.

"You've killed before. Now you are telling me it's 'bad'?"Raditz asked.

"It was an animal yesterday. Now it's a person," the cub answered.

"I can see that, but this is also an animal. They die the same way. There is no difference," Raditz explained, exasperated.

"But it's NOT an animal," the cub protested stubbornly.

"Sure it is. They smell like an animal. The biological readings on the scouter are that of an animal. There are no reports of sapient fungi, plant people, crystal entities, energy beings nor any other weirdoes living on this planet so what else could it be? All people here are just animals." Raditz had no idea what the brat was trying to say, the cub sounded nonsensical. He could not think of a single reason why killing the alien now would be any harder, or ant different for that matter, than killing the beast yesterday. It was not like they were suddenly dealing with plant or fungus based entities, which would usually require destruction of whole body in order to ensure a kill, or some other exotic beings, that could only be terminated by some extraordinary means.

"What are we then? Are we animals too?"

Raditz groaned. "Of course we are! What did you think?" Wasn't it obvious? It should be, even for a small cub. Raditz knew the boy was intelligent and observant, but sometimes he didn't understand the simplest things. "Except, we are stronger animals. Predators. We kill them."

"But predators kill for food and..." the child trailed off.

"They're terrible to eat, we established as much." Raditz laughed as he recalled the incident from another day. "I'll make you a deal, brat. Kill them quickly and we can go get better food."

Normally he wouldn't bargain, but if the cub started to associate killing with a reward, then he might be less likely to object in the future. Besides, the brat needed more practice anyway. Killing had to be familiar. He couldn’t get hung up on each new kill. That would be ridiculous! It would take forever to get any work done. Also, Raditz needed to ensure the cub would kill when he was ordered to.

"But we can get something else to eat. We don't need to kill them for food," the cub reasoned.

"Yes, we do. I'll explain later. Now just kill them!" Raditz sighed. Why was this so difficult?

"It's bad to kill people." Gohan stubbornly stood his ground.

"Why?"Raditz sounded more tired than curious.

"It's what Dad says," Gohan replied. He was angry, he didn't know what to do, and he feared invoking Raditz's fury again. So far, the he had not seriously injured Gohan, and it really seemed like he had no intention of doing so, but he was a murderer. He could potentially become far more violent. If only Gohan wasn't so confused! If he only was less afraid than angry, but what could he do about it?.

Raditz thumped him on the head. "That doesn't explain anything!" he shouted. "And he was wrong," The mention of his brother had made him even more sour and his patience was wearing thin.

"Now kill them before I change my mind," he threatened.

Gohan considered his options. The being was dying, and as far as he knew there was no saving them. And, if no one did anything, they would suffer a long and painful death. Yet he still shrunk away from the prospect of killing someone.

Killing was definitely bad. You did NOT kill people. That was wrong, wrong! You could kill animals, when you were hungry and you were going to eat them. Gohan had killed an animal yesterday; Raditz had brought one for him to practice on. It had already been wounded so it was safe.

Well, it wasn't that easy. Gohan still had difficulty putting it to death, but he did get a lot of food. He was finally able to satisfy his hunger too. Even Raditz seemed happy with him. He patted his head and told him he ‘did good,’ although earlier he had laughed at the trouble Gohan had with the animal. Even before that, he had killed squid-things in the stream, and, he supposed, clam-things as well. The latter had to be alive as well, but they didn’t move so he hadn’t thought much about it at the time.

Gohan recalled observing a wildcat in the forest back on Earth with his Dad. It had brought a small creature, maybe a bird, to its kittens. It had still been alive, and the mother let the kittens play with it and eventually kill it. Dad had explained the wildcat was teaching its young how to hunt. At this moment, Gohan could not get the image out of his head.

He didn't want to be forced to eat this type of alien again, or to be beaten as a punishment for not doing as he was told. A very tiny part of him, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, wanted Raditz to ruffle his hair and tell him he had done well again. He didn't know why; Raditz was in his eyes a terrible villain. Then he thought about how Mom and Dad would be so disappointed in him if he murdered some innocent person, even if it was a weird alien. But wouldn't they be disappointed as well if he let the alien suffer with no hope for survival?

He gathered a ball of energy in his hand like Raditz had taught him. He just wanted to protect both himself and the alien from more needless suffering. With feverish mental apologies to the dying being and to his parents, he fired a small blast.

He hit the alien in the eye. Brain and fluids splattered everywhere.

"See, it wasn't that hard." Raditz was by him and ruffled his hair. "I told you it's the same."

Gohan wanted to be alone. He didn't want Raditz's hand on his head. Except the part of him still wanted Raditz approval. The part that wanted to believe, wanted to be reassured that nothing bad had happened. That HE hadn't done anything bad.

Raditz peered down at him. "I promised you better meat, but let's clean you up first," he said, all too casually, and rubbed some of the brain matter from Gohan's bangs. Almost as an afterthought, he turned back and incinerated the corpse with an energy blast.

Gohan didn't feel so good. He followed Raditz numbly to the nearby stream. He wanted to get cleaned but somehow he couldn't coordinate his hands to do it. When Raditz asked him what was wrong with him, he said he was just exhausted. It was partly true, concentrating enough energy to kill certainly wore him out. Luckily, Raditz accepted the explanation and did not question him any further. He even helped Gohan clean up and assured him that he would feel better after eating something. Then Raditz took him to catch their next meal.

When Raditz finally let him alone and was out of hearing range, Gohan broke down. He could no longer pretend nothing had happened. He sat on the ground and cried really hard. Was there anything he could have done? The alien had been dying anyway, he had just released them from their suffering. There was nothing more he could have done in that situation. Nothing.

He was confused about whether or not he did the right thing, unsure of his role. He felt angry, but he didn't know where he should direct his anger. After all, he wasn't even quite sure what was making him angry. He was powerless in face of this new reality. He had to play along to survive, but for how long? He just wanted to go home.

*** Shai!kara was having the worse and most likely the last day of their life. Several days ago, half of their village managed to escape a fey attack on their dwelling and hid in the forest. They had built a camp along with some other survivors, determined to live through the invasion. But fate wouldn't allow it.

Their camp had been attacked. Shai!kara survived only because they were away collecting food. When they heard the assault, they immediately ran away as fast as possible. As much as they wanted to help the others, Shai!kara was no hero. What could they do anyway? But luck was not on their side either. The fey dropped down in front of them from the sky. They weren’t able to stop in time and crashed headlong into their enemy.

"You'd do nicely." The fey caught them and effectively prevented their fall. "Now, as long as you behave I won't hurt you,"

It was a terrifying creature, nearly two heads taller than Shai!kara or their tribe's people, and very muscular. Its body was furless, except for a long mane of thick, black hair. Its face was flat and only the nose stuck out. It was unsettling. Its gaze was especially frightening as its eyes showed mostly the whites. Truly it was one of the most demonic fey anyone could imagine.

Shai!kara was too panicked to struggle against it. The creature pinned them to its side with one mighty arm and took off into the sky, which caused them to abandon any thoughts of resistance whatsoever.

The giant fey took them where a smaller one waited.

"Now brat, you kill this fella here. We'll see how you fare. They are weaker than you, so there should be no problem. But be on your guard - scared creatures can be very dangerous." With that last remark, it released Shai!kara.

Shai!kara tried to assess their situation. They stood in front of the smaller fey, perhaps a foal, while the bigger one moved back. Shai!kara risked a glance at it. It was still observing them and its foal. Would it let them go if they tried to escape? They looked back at the smaller fey. It didn't look happy at all, but its stance seemed to show that it was preparing to attack. If that thing was indeed a foal, maybe those creatures were not supernatural and could be fought and defeated? Maybe, despite the magical ability to fly and kill with light, they were mortal. Shai!kara concluded they needed to kill the foal first if they wanted to survive this. Then maybe they had a chance with big one. But wouldn't the big one attack them when they fought the little one? They just had to take their chances and hope for the best.

The fey foal looked stressed, almost sick. It seemed so incredibly unfair to kill this creature to save their life. Hsha!!sari, Shai!kara's people, believed it was a sin to kill a foal or young of any kind. And Shai!kara was of that age when they could already have a foal of their own. It seemed abhorrent to kill one. But could they survive otherwise?

Shai!kara was by no means a fighter. Among their people they were regarded as weak and frail. But their opponent was a mere foal, surely even they could defeat the small thing? And then, maybe the opportunity to escape the adult ‘fey’ would present itself. Chances were slim but they were fighting for their life. Given the stakes, Shai!kara decided to fight and kill the foal to save their own life. Having made their decision, they attacked.

Gohan saw a scared alien. The being looked a lot like the first one of their species he saw. He would have hard time telling them apart if not for the fact this one was slightly smaller than the first one and their fur’s hue was warmer, more purplish, than bluish. But the patterns on clothing they wore and jewellery were different. Their eyes were dark, showing virtually no whites, and gentle, like the eyes of a deer. He didn’t want to fight them and he certainly didn’t want to kill them. He had killed a person before, and although he felt terrible about it, he was able to find some consolation in the fact that the person had been dying. He had just shortened their suffering. This was different. The person he was facing now was uninjured and if he let them get away, they could continue living.

He knew Raditz would punish him if he failed to kill the being and he would likely receive some small reward if he followed orders and managed to make a kill.

Raditz was probably going to kill them anyway. Did it really matter who did the deed, as long as the outcome was death?

But the thought of killing anyone didn’t sit well with Gohan. He didn’t want to be a murderer. In spite of that, he took up a fighting stance. He wanted to find the strength to stand up to Raditz... He really did.

Then the alien attacked Gohan. The two of them fought while Raditz merely watched.

Gohan felt small, even though his opponent wasn’t that large. His first beam attack missed. He did not know where to strike. Panicking, he punched and kicked where he could reach but it seemed he was getting hit more times than his opponent. For a moment, he thought he was going to be overpowered and he felt scared. Was he going to die? Raditz did not help, he just watched. Would he just let the alien kill Gohan? The thought was chilling. Gohan felt desperation and… his mind went blank for a moment, then...

...The deed was done.

Relief and triumph rushed to his head just for a moment. It was good to be alive. It was good to win. It was good to...

Gohan hung his head low and breathed heavily. It was in part due to exhaustion, and in part in an attempt to prevent himself from crying aloud. And in part in shame. Did he just think…

He was a murderer.

Raditz approached the cub and ruffled his hair. Something drew his attention, and he squatted to better see the cub’s face. The boy had tears in his eyes!

"Does your mother's species produce tears when they attack?" Raditz asked.

"I don't know," the boy answered meekly and rubbed the tears away.

"Better not, tears make your vision blurry," Some species displayed such physiological reactions to their own acts of aggression. Raditz had heard of it happening to Saiyans after especially harrowing battles and in cub’s limited experience, this skirmish must have counted as a hard fight. Once the boy became accustomed to fighting, the tears should stop.

He was worried at first, but then Gohan realized he wouldn’t be punished for crying - this time. It seemed Raditz did not comprehend Gohan's silent tears. To Gohan that was more frightening and somehow unjust than any punishment Raditz could have inflicted for weeping. In truth, Gohan could not grasp everything he felt at that moment. It was too much. Raditz thought the brat deserved recognition for his first unassisted kill: a name. He deserved it. Raditz wanted to give him a Saiyan name to show that he belonged among Saiyans.

He thought up several names he liked: Roké, Parsni and Cerne were good choices, but none of those seemed to fit. Raditz also liked ‘Manesca’ very much, but Manesca was a mad warrior and famous for excessive strength. No, Nappa and Vegeta would just laugh at that and mock both him and the boy. And it didn't 'fit' either. Well, the cub liked the name given to him by his parents and wanted to keep it, so at least he wouldn't have to get used to a new one.

"Anyway... good job Gohan," he said, ruffling the boy’s hair some more.

Gohan froze. Raditz had never used his name before! It should have made him happy, but now it just felt wrong. It didn't fit anymore. It belonged to the world of Gohan's Father and Mother.

He let Raditz ruffle his hair some more. He could hear promises of food. No doubt a reward for his deed. He felt dirty. Then Raditz said something about polishing his skills further. For once, he didn’t pay attention. He hoped Raditz hadn’t noticed. Fortunately, he was left alone soon after.

Gohan recalled how desperately he had wanted to keep his name, his human name. But now he wished that Raditz would change it. Then he wouldn't be Gohan, who had just killed an innocent person, but some other boy. Gohan would still be pure and untouched.

But Raditz said nothing about it. Now Gohan had to live through all of it. Gohan was responsible.

He didn’t want this. Any of this. He was a murderer. He was ashamed of himself. He thought, for the first time but not for the last, that even if his parents did somehow manage to find him they wouldn’t want him anymore. He thought he didn't deserve to go back home now. He wished that nothing had happened. That it was just a bad dream. He wanted to be home with his parents so much.

So many different emotions ran through him right now. He was furious at Raditz for taking him away from his family, for making him do awful things, and at himself for giving in and being so weak, at Vegeta for casting a shadow of terror over his life, and at the alien being he had just murdered. Even at his parents for not being around to protect him from it all. He had no idea what to do with all that rage, and where to direct it.

Gohan felt powerless, but at the same time he felt very afraid. What else was going to happen to him, and if he had murdered someone already what else would he do? He was afraid of emotions and situations that he did not know how to deal with. That fear bound him down. He felt shame, guilt and regret, all of which weighed him down and wore him out. He felt confusion. Confusion made him powerless.

He felt too tired even for crying. He went back to the pod and curled on the seat wishing the reality wouldn't hunt him in his dreams. 

Roké - (meaning: defiant, disobedient, unruly; inspiration: Eruca Sativa, also known as Rocket salad, Rucola and five or six different similar sounding names) a name of Raditz's older nest sister. She was second oldest child in the nest and sort of leader of children in Raditz's house. She was his primary hunting teacher and often carried him around when he was still too small to keep up.

Cerne - (meaning: a person, who can look at situation from many perspective to find solutions, an unorthodox thinker; inspiration: Medicago Sativa, commonly known as Alfalfa or Lucerne) a name of a hero of Saiyan stories. Cerne was a cunning warrior, who defeated enemies with wits and smart strategies rather than strength. Noted for medical knowledge. In some stories Cerne is pregnant or weaning a baby. Usually Cerne is referred with 'she' pronoun, but some tell the stories using 'he' pronoun. It is because Saiyan storytellers (which can be just anyone) try to achieve some form of identity with the hero of the story and gain heroic virtues (understood as excellency) in exchange. Of course other storytellers repeat the stories how they heard them.  

Note that the fact that Saiyans use gender-specific pronouns at all is due to the fact they use Universal Galactic Language, which is in this fic represented by English language. There were no gender-specific pronouns in original Saiyan language.

Parsni - (meaning: cheerful; inspiration Pastinaca Sativa or Parsnip) a name of Gine's friend. Fun personality. He was notable for liking machines and being a good tactician. He was successful warrior and well liked, even though strength wise he was average or below.  

Manesca - (meaning: fearless, undaunted; inspiration: Romanesco Broccoli) a berserker like warrior from popular Saiyan tales. Some stories identify Manesca as the Legendary Supersaiyan, other paint them as enemies (and as worthy opponents at that), but in most retellings they are not related in any way.

next chapter 

#Raditz #Gohan #dragon ball #saiyans #You cannot take it back make it undone #dbz fic

[impracticaldemon]

@clerfait​ -- Chapter 2, because this one is even more out of hand than usual.

CC: @graylu-angstweek​

~ 4050 words  (Total so far: 8000)

I swear that Chapter 3, tomorrow, will be the final chapter!

Thank you to all readers--I’ve tried to make this story enjoyable for all Fairy Tail fans, with a special emphasis on Juvia’s strengths and Natsu’s friendship even in a story relating to Graylu.  Likes and (especially) reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Note:  The Fanfiction version has the original formatting, and is the one that will be edited if I notice errors.  Tumblr often “mislays” (read ‘gets rid of’) my italics and I often miss a few.  However, the tumblr version is below for quick reading! :)

Author's Note:

Also under the heading of "another one that got out of hand".

If you enjoy the story and have a moment, please don't hesitate to add a quick review/note at the bottom, or send me an ask with comments, or like and reblog! All feedback is greatly appreciated :)

~Impracticaldemon (same username on fanfiction.net)

Chapter 2—A Long Wait Until Winter

[I]

Summer had arrived in a blaze of scorching sun that year. Magnolia and its citizens had baked under the blazing light, the streets shimmering with reflected heat. To Natsu's disappointment, both Lucy and Erza had declared that it was time for a vacation. Undaunted by their lack of enthusiasm, Natsu had thrown himself into a series of smaller jobs, heading out of town for one and two day trips with Happy on a regular basis. Not surprisingly, the heat hadn't bothered Natsu in the slightest.

Lucy had decided that she would make a real effort to work on her writing during her break from taking on missions, and Erza had been encouraging—as long as Lucy was also willing to spend a couple of weeks down at the seaside with her.

"You can write just as well at the beach as here," Erza had told Lucy firmly. Not that Erza often spoke any other way. "And you might as well get out of Magnolia for a while. July is supposed to be especially bad this year."

There had been an unacknowledged battle of wills over the beach trip. Lucy couldn't deny that she wanted to get out of her rather stuffy apartment during the worst of the heat, but… Erza hadn't raised the real reason Lucy didn't want to go out of town for any length of time; Juvia and Natsu had not been so reticent.

Juvia had been the first. She had arrived at Lucy's apartment in the relative cool of the late evening part-way through June. With the sun down, and all the windows open, Lucy's home hadn't been too bad. Lucy had just sat down to try writing again—the day hadn't gone well—and she was frustrated when she heard the knock on her door. On the other hand, she hadn't been entirely sorry to put off her non-productive task for a while longer—at least, not until Juvia had explained the reason for her visit.

"Erza-san told Juvia that Lucy-san won't go to the beach this year. Juvia thinks that Lucy-san is afraid to leave the city in case Gray-sama returns."

Juvia had looked inquiringly at her blond friend, and Lucy had felt a blush rise to her cheeks. It had seemed like such a strange role reversal, with Juvia being calm and slightly knowing, and Lucy feeling unsettled about Gray's continued absence. There had been an important difference, however: Lucy still didn't know exactly how she felt about Gray; in fact, as the days had continued to pass she had begun to wonder if she had dreamed that parting kiss.

"It's not quite the way you make it sound," Lucy had finally responded. "It's not like I even know where we—where Gray and I—stand at this point."

"Does Lucy-san like Gray-sama?"

"Well of course—" Lucy had begun to answer, once again on the defensive.

"As something more than friends? No, wait, Juvia will change the question: does Lucy like Gray-sama as something different than friends?"

"I still like Gray as a friend!"

"And something else?"

"I don't know!" Lucy's voice had risen, and Juvia's smug look had made her want to kick something. Again.

Hadn't she felt the same way last time? Juvia could really manage to keep the pressure on while doing no more than sitting and sipping her drink. She had been looking extremely pretty that day, although unusually casually dressed. For Juvia, that had meant perfectly tailored navy blue shorts and a crisp, white, sailor-style blouse. Since it was Juvia, a matching white and blue sailor's cap had been perched at a jaunty angle on top of her vivid blue hair.

"Lucy-san is not paying attention!" Juvia had said at that point, with understandable (if unusual) irritation.

"Well, well, um, your outfit is very unusual and it looks so nice—I was wondering if you were going somewhere special today." Lucy had felt her blush deepen. It had been perfectly obvious to both of them that Lucy was avoiding the subject.

"Lyon-sama and Juvia are going on a cruise," Juvia had confided, blue eyes sparkling.

"Today?" It was nine o'clock in the evening.

"Oh no! After the wedding, of course."

Lucy had blinked at her friend. "And the sailor suit?"

Juvia had leaned forward, her usually pale cheeks more than a little pink.

"Lyon-sama saw some of the clothes that Juvia had bought for the cruise and wanted her to show him how they looked. Lyon-sama liked this outfit very much, and said that Juvia should start wearing it right away, so that he would not have to wait until the fall to see it again."

Juvia's happiness had been palpable, and suddenly Lucy had felt sad. Somehow, it wasn't quite the same showing her clothes to Plue and Erza, and Natsu rarely noticed what she wore.

"That sounds very nice," Lucy had replied, sighing. "I mean… it really does sound as though you and Lyon are a good fit."

"Oh yes. But Juvia does not forget that she spent a long time wanting Gray-sama to fall in love with her instead. Juvia tries to remind Lyon-sama often that she is happy with the choice she made."

Lucy had shifted uncomfortably. She had found more and more that remembering Juvia's strong devotion to Gray, and the way that Gray had seemed to be falling for Juvia, made her… jealous? It had been absurd, because it wasn't as if she had clear feelings about Gray to be jealous about.

She had walked with Juvia out of the building and into the clear, warm, moonlit night. As a light breeze had danced across her bare arms, she had felt a sudden need to head for more open spaces where she could look up at the stars. Juvia had told her to be careful, but hadn't said anything more about Gray or Erza's proposed trip to the beach.

It had taken some time to get to her favourite place to stargaze, since she had to be far enough away from the town for the light pollution to be significantly reduced. As she had approached "her" spot, she'd sensed that she wasn't alone, and pulled a key from the pouch on her belt. A moment later, she'd recognized Natsu, and the slight adrenaline rush of wariness (and totally unacknowledged hope) had drained away.

"Natsu! Why didn't you tell me you were there?!" She'd been a little annoyed, because Natsu would have smelled her long before she'd seen his shape and finally realized who it was.

"Huh?" Natsu had seemed genuinely taken aback. "But you must have known it was me, Luce, right?"

"How?" Lucy demanded, sitting down beside him and giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

Natsu had thought about it for a moment and then dismissed the entire point.

"So how's it going Lucy? You've been kinda down. Maybe you should come out on a coupl' of jobs with me and Happy after all."

Lucy had given him a jaded look.

"Are you asking how I'm doing or trying to talk me into taking on a mission?"

"What?! No! I'm just worried about you is all? Geez you're suspicious!"

He'd pouted, but not for very long. Looking around, Lucy was surprised not to see Happy. Natsu must have read her gestures and expression—he was good at that.

"Happy's… well, I guess he's on a date?"

"With Charla? You're kidding!"

"Nope. I guess persistence does pay off, huh?"

"Yeah."

They'd sat in silence for a while, gazing up at the stars. Natsu could now identify quite a few of the constellations, but for the most part, when they'd done this in the past, he'd been quite content to stare upwards without chatting. It had suddenly dawned on Lucy that Gray had stopped coming on these impromptu stargazing trips a long time ago. She'd been disappointed but had never wanted to insist. Looking back, she'd wondered if maybe he had thought there was something between her and Natsu. Or maybe… maybe he'd mostly known that there wasn't, but hadn't wanted to intrude just in case? That had still seemed off, so Lucy had given up trying to understand.

Later that same night, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, another possibility had dawned on Lucy. What if Gray hadn't wanted to go star-gazing because, as Juvia had said, he wasn't brave enough? It was a romantic enough setting; maybe he'd worried that he'd give himself away or even—could it be?—found it too difficult not to get jealous of Natsu. Natsu tended to be a physical guy with his close friends. With Gray it had always come out in fights, fist bumps, and the occasional arm around the shoulder. Lucy tended to complain about Natsu's more violent greetings, and for the most part he limited himself to holding her hand (often while trying to get her to run faster), and quick hugs.

She had fallen asleep with difficulty that night, wondering where Gray was and what he was doing. They had fought together and almost died together so many times. Gray had even developed some kind of friendship with the chief of her celestial spirits, Loke. Somewhere in there, according to Juvia, Gray had started to care about her as something other than "just" a friend. Why hadn't Lucy noticed?

[II]

Mid-summer had been as hot as predicted. Lucy had finally given in to Erza's desire to go to the seaside. It had been a good idea, as the days were considerably more bearable and it was far easier to sleep at night.

Even more men than usual had tried to hit on Lucy that summer, for some reason. There had been a few women, too, but they had been far more subtle, whether because they had sensed Lucy's mood better, or because Erza was a greater deterrent to them.

"Do I have some giant sign over my head that says 'single and looking for love'?" Lucy had demanded at one point, after a particularly annoying encounter.

Her scarlet-haired companion had shifted slightly on her lounge chair and sipped at her drink. Being Erza, she had taken Lucy's question seriously.

"No. But you look unhappy. Many men assume that a beautiful woman who is not obviously with a male partner must be unhappy over a man. Therefore, it is a good time to make advances. The better men do so with caution, not wanting to make things worse; the worst men do it because they sense vulnerability and seek to exploit it."

"You've been reading relationship books again, haven't you?"

"… Well, why not?" Erza had been just a little defensive. "Have you ever been in love, Lucy?"

Lucy had tried to roll her eyes and make light of it, but with Erza staring at her from just two feet away, she'd failed miserably and given in to her fate.

"I don't know. I suppose that means I haven't."

"Not necessarily. People are driven in different ways, after all. Somebody who is passionate about one aspect of their life may not be as keenly aware of a different kind of passion if it develops slowly. And our own minds play games with us, trying to protect us from caring too much if we've been hurt before."

Lucy had thought about this for a few minutes. Then she had stood up and grinned down at Erza.

"Well I still think you sound like a book on 'how to live and love better'. I'm going to get my writing things. After all, you talked me into coming here so that I could write."

Erza had waved an unusually lazy hand at her from her prone position.

"Good luck. Personally, I think it's too hot for serious endeavour."

As Lucy had walked away, still thinking about Erza's words despite herself, she'd heard her friend mutter: "And it was a good book."

Lucy had taken her notebook and pens to a secluded, shady spot away from the beach crowds. She'd started by writing short sketches about the people she'd observed over the past few days: the harassed but loving mother; the sick but kindly older gentleman; the man selling ice cream who had looked a little like Gray. She had dutifully included the last one so that Juvia—the mental Juvia in her head—couldn't accuse her of lacking courage. Maybe she did need to stop avoiding the issue.

A large drop of sweat had rolled down her face and threatened to blot her page. It really was too hot to write, Lucy had thought, pushing the back of one wrist across her forehead. Too hot, too airless, too bright, even in the shade. She wanted cool, crisp air and the hint of frost. Since when? mental Juvia had asked, with a smirk that Lucy was pretty sure that the real Juvia would never use.

"Since it got so horribly hot! Leave me alone! Go hang out with mental Lyon!" Then Lucy had laughed aloud. "Gray would say that Lyon's pretty much mental all the time…"

I really do miss him. As a friend or as something different, I don't know, but I miss him.

"But only because he made ice cubes for our drinks in the summer," she had said, still aloud, laughing at her own belligerence.

"You know, talking to yourself like this is not a good sign," a pleasant baritone had said from just a few feet away.

Lucy had jumped, even though she had identified the speaker almost immediately.

"Loke! What on earth are you doing here?"

The celestial spirit could come and go more or less at will, but he usually didn't.

"I couldn't take your pining over Gray any longer. You obviously need advice from somebody who knows what they're talking about."

Loke blinked in the strong sun—he had appeared a little ways from the rock overhang that was providing Lucy's shade. An instant later, he was wearing sunglasses. Of course. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"I do NOT need advice. I've already been given lots of advice. I'm swimming in advice. Now if you could conjure up a really cold drink and maybe a fan, that would help."

"Is it punishment time, Mistress?" It had been Lucy's celestial maid-servant, the lovely and rather masochistic Virgo, popping into being beside Loke. Virgo had clasped her manacled wrists together and bowed deeply.

"What? No! What is this, anyway?"

"We merely want to help you," Loke had murmured, at his most charming. "Milady would like a cold drink and a fan, Virgo."

Helpless, and torn between slight annoyance and greater amusement, Lucy had allowed Loke to fuss over her. To a point.

"I think you should give Gray a chance," he'd said, once Lucy was sitting on a soft cotton blanket with a cold drink in her hand and a bowl of cool, green grapes beside her to snack on. He was fanning her in a leisurely fashion with a large paper fan painted with—

"You painted Gray's face ON THE FAN?!"

"What, me? Not at all."

"But—"

"I didn't paint it; that was Aries. She quite likes Gray, you know. So do I, which would be convenient, since otherwise I might be tempted to interfere at inopportune moments." Loke had given her a slightly too-toothy smile and for a moment the sunlight had reflected strangely off his opaque lenses.

"Gah! Stop being so pushy! Besides…" Lucy had leaned forward, eager to make this one point very clearly. "You may not have noticed, but Gray isn't here. He left Magnolia seven months ago. I don't know why everyone thinks this has anything to do with me. GRAY ISN'T HERE!"

She'd stopped as soon as she'd realized that she was shouting. Then she'd blinked away sudden tears.

"Gray isn't here," she'd whispered. "And I feel like a part of my life is on hold."

Abruptly serious, Loke had leaned forward, keeping his actions slow and non-threatening. He'd lifted a hand and wiped away a tear that had escaped despite Lucy's best efforts. Then he'd kissed her gently on the forehead. Somehow, the sunglasses had vanished.

"That's exactly it, dear Lucy. And it's a very hard place to be, not knowing how somebody else feels, and being unable to ask. A person can talk themselves into many things and then discover at the last moment—if not too late—that they were just very good at self-delusion all along."

Lucy scowled at Loke, but without any real anger.

"I told you: I'm swimming in advice. I'm not an idiot—" she had swatted at Loke when he had pretended to look surprised— "and I think I know what you're saying. You're saying that Gray's been kind of confused about all this himself for a while, and it's no fun to feel this way, so don't go too hard on him when—if!—he comes back."

Loke had risen gracefully and bowed slightly. The tinted glasses were back.

"On the bright side, Lucy, if he does come back and if he does hurt you somehow, there will be quite a line-up of people out for his blood. I will have the advantage of being able to spy on you the most easily, of course, so I would get there first, but the Fire Eater and Titania wouldn't be far behind. You have a gift for making friends, and we want the best for you. We might be willing to settle for Gray."

Lucy had been torn between laughter, irritation, and tears.

"And I thought my dad was bad about trying to set me up with the right guy…" she'd said.

Loke had frowned at her.

"Fortunately, we actually care about what you want," he'd told her, in tone laced with anger. He wasn't Lucy's father's biggest fan. A moment later, he'd reverted to himself. "Well, that's that, then. Stop being so mopey, get on with your writing, and when Gray comes back—which he will, Flame-brain's right—then either he'll do the right thing and talk to you about how he feels, or we'll pound him. Good?"

"No!' But Lucy had been laughing, and that had felt good.

[III]

Lucy had managed to keep her emotions on a more even keel throughout the rest of the summer, and although she had dreamed rather often of winter and the scent of frost, she had tried to put it down to the awful heat—who wouldn't long for cooler temperatures? There were two or three dreams that had been more difficult to set aside, and those had forced her to recognize that Gray's kiss—her first—had made her personally aware of a form of intimacy that she had only read about in the romance novels that she, Levy, Juvia and Erza all shared and had solemnly sworn never to show another soul. Of course, Mirajane knew because she supplied them, but that was different.

The first two months of autumn had passed very quickly, thanks to Juvia and Lyon's wedding being set for November first. The cooling air also meant that it had been time to get out on more missions again with Natsu and Erza. Wendy had come with them from time to time, and on one notable occasion Juvia and Lyon had both joined them, even though it was rare for members of other guilds to be involved in guild jobs. Lucy had rapidly decided that the extra firepower hadn't really been worth it, because Gray and Natsu were a team despite their frequent brangling, while Lyon and Natsu were a continuous dominance match without the deep, longstanding friendship to take the edge off. Even Erza had contributed to the feeling of "too many leaders", because while Natsu and Gray generally deferred to her in tactical situations, Lyon didn't and Erza had tried to be polite because she hadn't wanted to offend Juvia. By the end of the job, Lucy's mantra had been never again.

Juvia had justified Lucy's faith in her by remaining constant in her affection for her Fairy Tail friends, although naturally she was around a lot less often. Lucy had also been more favourably impressed with Lyon than she had expected (the disastrous mission notwithstanding). There was no denying that he was completely devoted to Juvia, although he could still be rather harsh and emotionally distant with others. It was evident that he was making an effort to do better, however, at least with those that Juvia cared about.

As November approached, Lucy had begun to feel more and more anxious, and it hadn't helped that everyone close to her (including her celestial spirits) had made it clear that they were keenly interested as well. The question on Lucy's mind, of course, was simple: would Gray show up for the wedding? By any standard of friendship, guild loyalty and even a sort of kinship (in Lyon's case), he should be there. Only his absence had kept him from being in the wedding party, and Lucy had heard from somebody—though not directly—that Lyon was upset that Gray had not been in touch with him. Although the two of them had been rivals in so many ways, they were also foster brothers of a sort, and had a shared history and background in magic that was unique to the two of them.

Eventually, Lucy had gone to Juvia in desperation, and asked if she or Lyon had heard anything from Gray. Juvia had looked a little distressed, but eventually she had made up her mind and told Lucy that Lyon had received a note just the day before—within a week of the wedding itself—saying that Gray would be there, although he didn't want anybody else to know.

"I need to see him," Lucy had told Juvia bluntly.

Juvia had frowned. "If Lucy-san looks for Gray-sama and speaks to him then he will know that Lyon-sama or Juvia did not keep his secret."

Lucy had looked straight into Juvia's large blue eyes and told her:

"I don't care if I make a fool of myself or upset my friends… I need to talk to Gray."

Juvia closed her eyes, but then nodded firmly and opened them again.

"Juvia will help Lucy-san. Juvia thinks that Gray-sama will only be there for the wedding ceremony, not for the dancing afterward. Juvia will make sure that Lucy-san gets to see Gray-sama, in private, before he can leave."

Lucy had exhaled in relief. Then she'd hugged the other woman, a little overwhelmed by the kindness that she was being shown. It was Juvia's big day, and Juvia was going to devote some part of her attention to helping Lucy speak to Juvia's former crush. What friend could ask for more?

"Thank you, Juvia. Thank you."

Juvia had been pink and flustered but obviously pleased.

"Juvia hopes that in the end, all of Juvia's friends will be happy and even Juvia."

The way she had expressed herself had made tender-hearted Lucy give her another quick hug. Then she turned to business, and the rest of the visit had been spent making plans.

[END]

A/Note: I hope you enjoyed chapter 2! The third-and FINAL, I promise!-chapter will be up by tomorrow sometime. :)

#fairy tail #fanfiction #gray fullbuster #lucy heartfilia #juvia lockser #graylu #loke #erza scarlet

[darkfalcon-z]

You cannot take it back, make it undone. Chapter 1: Lost somewhere between the stars

DBZ AU.

It’s popular premise in the fandom, but as far as I know not a popular take on premise - slice of life, sort of, but in space fantasy setting. 

Raditz, Gohan; over 5 800 words. Gen. No romance at this point in the story. Author’s note at the end.

chapter 2 

chapter directory

on AO3

Many thanks to over-8000 for beta reading this chapter

Lost somewhere between the stars

Gohan had changed greatly in past months.  Since he had been taken from Earth, he had spent time on two different planets and travelling through space. He was not sure how much time had actually passed. Three months? Four months? He did not even kept track of passing days any more; not to mention that ‘days’ lasted for different amounts of time on foreign worlds. 

His limbs became thinner, lean muscles clearly visible now. His skin became darker, tanned by the alien suns, and rougher from staying outdoors all of the time, covered with many scratches and bruises. His eyes looked wild, his expression cautious and guarded. His hair became longer and messier, and now flea-like insects made their home in it. All he wore were tattered rags. You couldn't say he was too clean, either. Illuminated by dim light inside of the space pod, he appeared half feral.

At the moment, Gohan was calm and unalarmed. His breath was steady and he made himself comfortable on his uncle’s lap. He leaned against Raditz's chest and watched as the other made adjustments to the flight path of the spacecraft, or at least that’s what Gohan assumed he was doing. Their journey was nearing its destination.

An outline of irregular massive rock emerged from surrounding blackness, illuminated by the light of nearby stars. Gohan recalled reading a book back on Earth, where such rocks were dubbed as asteroids. A glimmer of reflected light caught his eye and brought his attention to metallic-clear cut surfaces that contrasted with uneven face of the asteroid. 

The pod dropped onto the landing pad of a space station. 'Station Theta', as Raditz informed him. 

Once he exited the craft, Gohan glanced in every direction and sniffed the air in hopes of absorbing as much information as possible about this new place. The premises seemed positively deserted. It was very cold.

"Come," Raditz urged Gohan, who trotted after him without objections. Raditz wasn't in any hurry. It was just that the small child needed to move his legs much faster than very tall Saiyan to keep up. 

They passed through a heavy door and entered one of the rooms along the corridor. Inside stood several pieces of equipment, which looked vaguely like what Gohan expected cupboards in an alien space station to  look like. The design was reminiscent of the space pod, albeit the pieces of equipment were not entirely spherical in shape, just somewhat curvy. On the opposite wall stood a transparent door that lead to another empty room.

"Disinfection Chamber," informed Raditz.  "Strip!"  He ordered, without further explanation.

Gohan did as he was told. He didn't want to, it was already too cold for his liking. Raditz also stripped bare and crammed his things into one of the cabinets. 

Gohan stood naked and barefooted, awkwardly clutching the remains of his once fine and vibrantly colorful clothes to his chest. Goosebumps covered his tanned skin. 

"Just drop them. Those are hardly good for anything anymore. We'll find you some new ones," Raditz offered.  Once the rags laid on the floor, he incinerated them with precision and left just a small pile of soot. 

Next, Raditz opened another cupboard and gestured to Gohan to come closer. 

"Swallow this and drink up," Raditz ordered. He placed a small reddish pill in Gohan's palm and gave him a cup of water. Gohan observed he was not the only one undergoing this treatment, as Raditz put a similar pill in his mouth and chugged a healthy dose of water.

A moment later, he gave Gohan another cup along with a new set of instructions: "Just rinse your mouth. Don't swallow. Spit it out when it starts to feel hot."  

Gohan obeyed diligently. He did not want to spit on the floor, so he settled for spitting the disgusting substance back into the cup he had received it in.

Next Raditz knelt before Gohan and gently lifted his face up with one hand. "Close your eyes."  He wiped Gohan’s eyes with a wet pad. Then he bent over the small boy once again, a small dial in one hand. He steadied the boy's face once again. "Keep your eyes open, ‘till I'm done,"  he ordered. Cautiously, he administered an unknown  concoction.

For a moment, Gohan lost his sight and the discomfort forced him to close his eyes. Quietly uttered curses informed him that Raditz had most likely subjected himself to the same treatment. When he opened his eyes again, the world was still swimming. 

Raditz continued the procedures that Gohan learned later were a preliminary part of the standard disinfection process. He put transparent clamps around Gohan’s eyes that stuck to the boy’s sockets with what felt like suction. Lastly, he placed a breathing device over Gohan's nose.

"Inhale. You better keep your eyes shut once the process starts and don't open your mouth," Raditz advised and placed a breathing device over his own nose.

Raditz opened the transparent door, and together they entered the disinfection chamber. Next, he pressed some buttons on the command panel near the door. The last thing Gohan saw before he shut his eyes tightly was some sort of gas or steam filling the chamber. 

Bright light temporarily blinded him even through closed eyelids. Then came a blast of almost unbearable heat, followed by freezing chill. Gohan could feel the sound waves pass through his body, although he couldn't actually hear them. He was sure they changed frequency over time. At one point, Gohan felt powerful gusts of air, almost strong enough to carry him away, and he wondered  if they were being sucked out into vacuum of the space. 

He did not know how much time had passed before Raditz finally told him to open his eyes. Gohan felt nauseous. His limbs could barely support him and his skin crawled unpleasantly. Weakly, he followed his uncle out of the disinfection chamber. His hair, like Raditz's, was ruffled and tangled and stood up in every direction, more so than usual.  

"I hate the procedure," Raditz complained. "But you get used to it after few times." He removed his items from the cupboard; Gohan assumed it was a 'disinfection chamber' for clothes and equipment.

"Now to get you some clothes," Raditz proclaimed. He looked down at Gohan who, after exiting the disinfection chamber, shook like a leaf from the cold. 

Raditz put his shorts back on and readjusted the garters around his thigh and bicep. He pulled on his boots but didn't bother with the rest of his gear. He grumbled that his armor was useless, so he stuck it under one arm and left the room.

Gohan hurried after him. 

On the way, Raditz made various stops to press buttons and push some levers. 

"There is no one here besides us, is there?" Gohan risked a question. After the time the two had spent together, he was no longer scared of Raditz per se. That did not mean he wasn't wary of him, or that he trusted him. In Gohan's experience, Raditz proved to have a bad temper and erratic mood. So far, he had not done anything worse to Gohan than slapping him, but each of his  strikes easily sent the little boy to the ground. 

"'S right. The station was abandoned long time ago, before we made it our base," Raditz explained. "It comes with its own set of problems, but beats staying in Frieza's barracks. We've been using here since... a few years ago in your terms now." The 'we' in Raditz’ explanation meant -  of course -  him and the two other Saiyans. 

They arrived at a room of substantial size. It was not entirely dark, as in one corner lamps, which presumably simulated solar light, shone over crates filled with soil and some forlorn-looking plants.  

On the shorter wall was a large window that showed the stars outside. As far as Gohan could tell, the room was mostly empty. Near the centre was a circle of what looked like stones surrounded by all manners of blankets or covers and big, stuffed sacks. On the one side of the circle stood the only bigger piece of furniture in the room, if you could call it that. It was a  structure Gohan immediately identified as the 'nest' and was easily big enough to fit five or six adult Saiyans. Later, he learned it had been  constructed from several 'standard' sleeping platforms that had belonged to the original equipment of the space station. To suit more Saiyan sensibilities regarding sleeping spots, it was padded with all sort of soft items: pelts, blankets, pillows, delicate shawls to feathery boas and even, surprisingly enough, one or two plush toys. 

Raditz casually dropped his burden and  strolled to the center of the room. 

"That's our main living area," he explained, "We sleep here. That is, us and Nappa. Vegeta sleeps elsewhere." He knelt by the 'stone' circle and suddenly a fire blazed up. Only, Gohan observed, it wasn't real fire. There was nothing burning, although he could feel the warmth radiating from the direction of the stones from his place slightly behind Raditz.  It did not  keep him from shivering. 

Raditz grabbed one of the blankets from the floor and then stood up. He promptly dropped it on Gohan's head before the boy made any move to get closer to the "fire".

"Standard electric light on this station is pretty unpleasant. You'll see. So we got this thing instead. Pretty neat, huh?" Raditz stated.

Gohan nodded and wrapped himself in the piece of fabric. At least that gave him some protection from the cold.

"Come. We are going to find you something to wear in the armory." Raditz walked to one of the doors in the room, but not the same they first had come through. 

Gohan obediently trotted after him. 

The armory turned out to be a complex of several rooms, all filled with different kinds of equipment. Gohan noted that there was much more stuff than the Saiyans could possibly need and a lot of it seemed to be of little  use to them in the first place.

Raditz found Gohan a short sleeved shirt that hung loosely on his frame and a pair of shorts, which tended to slide down unless he held  them up by wrapping his tail around his waist. To Gohan’s relief, they were almost knee length (and not the ‘only-cover-your-ass’ variety Raditz wore). Unfortunately, there were no boots in Gohan's size, the smallest set of armor was too big for him and there were no decent forearm guards or gloves.  Frustrated, Raditz tossed Gohan   pairs of leg warmers for both his legs and forearms, and explained  they were essentially made from the same substance as standard armor. That should give him at least some protection. 

Thus Gohan remained barefooted for the time being, save for the  too large leg warmers, which slid down past his ankles  and covered some of his feet around the heels. 

Gohan wondered briefly why military equipment came in child sizes, then concluded it either had to do with Saiyan lifestyle, or that some alien species only grew as big as human children.

Once he dressed, Raditz suggested they grab something to eat and then take a tour around the station. 

The kitchen and food storage rooms were located on the opposite side of the living area that used to be a canteen before the station had been abandoned. 

When they arrived in the kitchen Raditz put a huge pot on the stove, big enough to hold enough food to satisfy both of them and then some, but by far not the largest available. He filled it with some water, threw in a considerable amount of freeze-dried meat, and said that it needed some time to cook. Absentmindedly, he hurled a small piece of cold, dry meat to Gohan as well. 

Gohan sniffed at the scrap in his hands. It smelled different from anything he had eaten before, was -  quite frankly- hard and cold, and did not look appetizing at all. He nibbled at it and tried  not to think about the even less appetizing things he had eaten not so long ago. 

Meanwhile, Raditz brought some dry rations from the storage. He gave Gohan a bar that could easily feed a grown man for two days. That is, a grown human man. For a  Saiyan child, it was just a snack.  

They returned to the main living area.

"That's Nappa's little project." Raditz pointed towards the crates with plants. "I don't know why he's taken to gardening, but there it is. Though I'm pretty sure none of the things growing here are the ones Nappa actually planted. I have no idea where these weeds came from,"  he went on. "He got real soil and all. Even got worms. To scarify the soil, so he says, like that is any help. Anyway-" he turned his gaze from plants to Gohan - "don't eat worms. If Nappa finds out, there'll  be  hell to pay.  Trust me, it's not worth it."

Raditz shook his head. “Any reasonable space horticulture enthusiast would invest in hydroponic gel, hopefully to cultivate something edible, instead of playing in the mud,” he mumbled. They left the room to explore further. 

Raditz wore a tank top now. Gohan had not seen where he produced the article of clothing from, or when he put it on. In his mind, he pictured Raditz pulling it out of his thick hair like some cartoon character. The thought made Gohan smile. 

Raditz noticed the smile, and not knowing what caused it, sent Gohan a self assured smirk.

They walked down the corridor while Raditz explained what laid behind each door as they passed. Sometimes, they stopped to look.

"That's Vegeta's place. Used to be captain's quarters. Don't even think about going in there, unless you're ordered to clean it up," Raditz warned. Gohan could not imagine willingly going near Vegeta or into any space he considered his. 

"Here's the tactical room. You can go in here, except when there's a tactical meeting. You're probably going to be invited when you're older, and then you'll have to attend, but that'll be a while yet." Raditz leaned over the table in the center of the room and took something out from a box resting on the top of it. "You can take white, fluorescent markers and scribble on the corridor walls or whatever. There's a plenty of them to spare. We don't even need them. But, don't touch the colorful ones. We sometimes use those for planning." With that, he handed Gohan the felt pen he just fished out of the box. "Here. Keep this. It'll come in handy when I'll teach you how to read." 

"But I know how to read and write already," Gohan protested. Despite that, he clutched the marker tightly. It was nice to have something for himself even if it was just a plain old felt-pen. Well, technically it was not plain old, at least not for Gohan. It was supposed to be fluorescent after all. 

"Oh-" Raditz's brow arched. "So tell me, smart guy, what does that say?" He pointed towards a sign on the  nearest wall."

"I...-" Gohan gulped. " I don't know those letters,"  he admitted.

Raditz laughed. "Seriously?"

Gohan nodded and sighed inwardly with relief. At least Raditz appeared to be in good mood today. 

"What got you so freaked?" Raditz sneered. " Whatever. It's not a big problem. Sucks you have to learn to read again, but it'll probably be easier if you already can read your planet's writing."

They continued the tour. The toilets and cleaning facilities differed from their Earth counterparts and Raditz had to explain how to use everything. Oddly enough, he seemed to find it entertaining. Then again, Gohan had noticed quite a while ago that the Saiyan liked to talk, especially when he was in good mood. It was not even particularly important what he was talking about.  

The med bay was a wonder to behold - it would make medical professionals on Earth jealous. It was filled with the advance tools for conventional surgeries, diagnostic equipment, and medication that they could ever wish for, all organized neatly, and at their disposal.

Gohan approached a huge machine that  looked like a peculiar, empty fish tank, wondering what it was for.

"It's a healing tank." Raditz proceeded to explain the purpose of the machine.

Gohan was fascinated, but he soon learned that machine was unfortunately not to be used.

"Healing liquid for the tanks is made from nano-machines, nutritions and bacteria, or some shit like that," Raditz said. "It can only be used for a short period before it expires, since it's bioactive and all that. But it takes rather long time to brew up, longer that we usually stay here. 'S why it's expensive to use healing tanks. That and all the restrictions put on the technology, you know, to leech off the poor suckers who need it. So even though we have a healing tank here, and even have all the ingredients to make the liquid, it is too impractical to use." He sighed. "If we need to, we can use the healing tanks in any of the Frieza's bases. It's costly. More than it should be. But no other place I know would allow Saiyans to use their tanks."

"Come. I'll show you the mechanical workshops," Raditz offered.

Workshops were located near the landing area. There were several; all but one were restricted to Gohan. He was not allowed to go in without supervision. The last one was filled with broken equipment, which was of little use, save perhaps spare parts or materials for mending less destroyed machines. Raditz told Gohan that he could tinker with it (or destroy it even more) if he liked. 

"You can run around the corridors and play how you like. Just keep out of all the places I told you about, and don't open any sealed door." The station had been designed to house around 300 people; the Saiyans decided to seal away significant part of it to minimize costs of exploration.  Still, it felt empty with so few of them.

"I can play?" Gohan inquired. 

Raditz regarded him quizzically, as if he did not know what to make of the question.

"Yeah, once you're done with training and all your chores for the day, you can do whatever you like." He looked at Gohan wistfully and placed one hand on top of the boy's head to ruffle his hair. "It sucks that  you have no other kids to play with. Not much fun."

"What kind of chores do I have to do here?" asked Gohan.

"You're on a cleaning duty indefinitely, pal." Raditz grinned. "Don't worry, it's not that much work. Bots clean a better part of the station. Except for our main room and Vegeta's quarters. There's usually something to clean in the kitchen as well. Eh, basically you clean whatever anyone tells you to. I'll show you how to work the  cleaning equipment, but we still have time ‘till Vegeta and Nappa are back, so there's no hurry."

 "And that is everything?" 

"Yeah. Pretty much." Raditz shrugged. "That, and you'll be helping me in the kitchen when I ask. If you were bigger, I’d have you cook. But for now you are simply too small to move pots, so that'll have to wait. I will teach you how to do all the maintenance work for the station and our ships too, but all in due time."

Gohan nodded. That he could do. That wasn't so bad. Just regular house work. Or as regular as you got on alien space stations. Plus, he would be learning more about real spaceships. And that was cool. 

Next they went to the training room. It was bigger than the living area. Raditz explained how it was the largest room in the station, except for the hangars. The ceiling was high to provide enough space for flight training, which was very fortunate, since Gohan had just learned  to float in the air and was still in serious need of practice. 

"Since we are already here we might as well do some warm up," said Raditz. 

"Are we going to spar?" Gohan asked.

"Tomorrow." Raditz looked at Gohan critically. "As much as we need to make a capable fighter out of you, we both need some rest. Today we just warm up our muscles and do some stretching. Gods know we need it after being stuck in the damn pod for so long."

Gohan did not question it. He just started with his regular regime, and Raditz began his own. 

Doing exercises warmed him up. He did not need to wrap himself with the blanket any more. 

"Hungry," asked Raditz when they were done. "Me too. Back to the kitchen we go," he ordained as Gohan's stomach growled. He looked the boy over. "We need to put some meat on those bones."

They went back to the kitchen. The soft sound of Gohan's bare toes patting against cold floors followed the louder taps of Raditz's boots along chilly, empty corridors.  The kitchen was much warmer when they arrived.

"Come!" Raditz signaled with his head  that he wanted Gohan to go to the storage rooms before he disappeared behind the next set of doors. "Carry those!" he instructed once Gohan joined him, and placed parcels of culinary ingredients in the boy's outstretched arms. He took a large stack of packages.

Back at the cooking area, Raditz dropped his burden on the counter  near the stove. He took the parcels from Gohan and placed them there as well. After a second of consideration, he snatched up Gohan by his growing hair and also placed him on the counter next to the food supplies. 

Cooking was fun. Raditz let Gohan smell and try every new thing he unpacked before he threw the rest in the pot. Gohan liked sampling even though most things, which were apparently freeze-dried vegetables and some types of spices or herbs, did not taste very good on their own. Raditz also explained what each thing was and in some cases provided useful information about them. 

Sitting on the countertop, Gohan felt he was at least learning something. And was having was fun. 

Raditz was enjoying himself as well. To Gohan, who was getting better and better at reading his moods, it was apparent by the way he smiled. 

"We need to make a supply run soon," Raditz informed while he stirred the stew. "We still have a safe amount of food here, even for four Saiyans, but there's no variety." Almost as an afterthought, he  added: "And we're almost out of booze." 

"What is booze?" asked Gohan, who was very young and did not know what the word meant, though he thought he had  heard the adult Saiyans mention it at times.

"That? Liquor, you know, alcoholic drink." Raditz explained. 

"Like that thing Grandpa drinks that sometimes makes him act funny?"

Raditz laughed. "Yes! That."

 "Mommy says I'm not allowed to drink that it until I'm eighteen."

"And why is that?" Raditz inquired with some skepticism.

"Because alcohol is bad for growing," Gohan explained. "And for learning," he added.

"In that case, there's no booze for you till you're eighteen," Raditz decided thoughtfully. "Sorry, pal." At that point, he started to mix what he proclaimed to be minced grains and dried egg powder with water in a huge bowl.

"It'll be ready soon." he announced and poured the contents of the bowl into the boiling pot. 

After the stew was cooked they went back to the living area, or the 'cave', as Gohan started to mentally dub it. Raditz carried the steaming pot, while Gohan was tasked with bringing some dishes and spoons.

The food was okay, but certainly better than anything Gohan had eaten in the  last few months. After several helpings, they started to talk once again.

"How d'you like my cooking?" Raditz asked. He sat on one of the bag-things around the artificial bonfire. Gohan sat nearby on the pelt just next to the 'fire'.

"It's good," Gohan said. "But not as good as dishes my Mommy makes," he risked. 

"I bet." Raditz apparently wasn't surprised nor upset in the least. "It's not as good as the food mine used to make. Hell. I can do better with fresh ingredients," he claimed.

"You didn't cook when... You didn't cook when we were on the planets," Gohan stated with question hanging in the air. 

"Too little time," Raditz explained. "I'd have to look for pots, as we hardly can take any with us in our pods. Besides, I know little about edible stuff we find on each new planet. It's safer not to mix."

That sure made sense, given everything Gohan had learned so far about surviving on foreign planets. 

"So, what do you want to do today?"Raditz asked after they both ate their fill.

"Teach me to read your writing!" Gohan blurted without a second thought.

"That's it? I told you we have this day to rest and what you want to do is... learn to read?" Raditz was perplexed. 

"Yeah... and about space travel." Gohan flushed. "We don't have such technology on Earth. I want to know how to pilot a spaceship."

Raditz blinked. Gohan was apparently very excited by the idea of learning new things. Light shone in his eyes and the corners of his slightly agape mouth rose up.

"Okay."

"Really?!" Joy spread across Gohan's features as he jumped a little in place, tail swinging with anticipation.  

Raditz grinned then rose up. "Yes. really. Come, let us find a piece of a wall to write down all the  signs." 

Gohan jumped up eagerly. At last, he was permitted to study something again. 

"Learning piloting and navigating in space will take some time. You'll have to learn a lot of complicated math to be able to do it," Raditz warned. 

"That's great. I love maths." 

Raditz blinked again, surprised, then laughed aloud. "Man, you're weird little cub."

Gohan dimmed and sunk a little. "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck are you sorry for now?" Raditz asked, exasperated. 

"For being weird," Gohan said quietly after a moment of quiet. 

Raditz sighed. "Whatever. It's not a problem."

A suitable wall was not difficult to find. In fact, they settled for one in the nearest corridor leading to lavatory.

"Give me your pen," Raditz requested.

When Gohan handed over his marker after a barely noticeable moment of hesitation, Raditz wrote down all the signs of the syllabary that served as a standard writing system for interstellar travellers in this part of the cosmos, then explained what each sign stood for.  Next,Gohan wrote down their meanings in Earth's alphabet. They repeated the same procedure for the numbers. 

Gohan was a fast learner. Soon Raditz suggested they find some reading material to test Gohan's memory and practice reading further. Gohan learned that literature was a rare commodity in interstellar society. All that could be found on the market were different types of manuals. Books were stored on data crystals that were placed in a tablet-like device in order to be read. Mindful of Gohan's earlier declaration regarding interest in space travel,  Raditz suggested they start with a navigation manual. 

Before they continued with the reading lesson, Raditz insisted they take a break for a snack. Gohan happily agreed. They finished what remained of the stew Raditz had cooked earlier,  but it was too little to satisfy their appetites. So Raditz produced two big jars from the pantry. 

"It's cream made from puza fruit cores. It's good." He gave Gohan one of the jars and they went back to the 'cave'.

The treat inside the jar turned out to be very sweet and kind of nutty. It tasted as if someone had mixed peanut butter with equal amount of sugar. In Gohan’s opinion it was not very tasty, but it was very filling and satisfying.

The navigation manual turned out to be a difficult read, even though Gohan easily remembered all the signs of the syllabary and all the numbers. Unfortunately there were many other mathematical signs they had not covered beforehand and Raditz had to explain what they meant. In addition, there were numerous terms Gohan did not know and that he always asked to have explained. The lesson turned out to be tedious work for Raditz. 

Raditz stretched out as much as he could with Gohan sitting on his lap, tablet in hands. He looked at the boy.

"Tell you what, we're finished for today." 

"Okay. Can we go back to it tomorrow." 

"Ha. Told you, you're weird. No other cub would be able to sit still and read for this long, much less look forward to more."

"This is very interesting." Gohan curled a little bit in himself and murmured: "I like when you teach me things."

"Right." Raditz turned to look somewhere else but smirked. He put his hand in Gohan's hair and tried to divide its strands with his fingers.

"Your hair needs some grooming," he stated. "So does mine." He pushed Gohan from his lap. "I need to find a needle. It's too tangled up to manage without a  good, sturdy needle."

Gohan knew already that Saiyans did not use combs for their hair. Generally their hair routine was different from what Gohan remembered from Earth. Usually it involved taking out manually whatever local vermin had decided to make its home in the Saiyan’s hair. This procedure was preferably repeated every day. Gohan thought it rather impractical. Saiyans did not wash their hair with water, and when asked about shampoo Raditz just made a puzzled expression. Occasionally some of their hair became tangled up. Given the structure of Saiyan hair it did not happen too often to be a serious inconvenience, even for Raditz, whose hair fell easily past his knees.  When it did happen, Raditz used a thin, sharpened stick, referred to as a ‘needle’, to untangle the knots. He kept one in his pod, but he often simply improvised one from whatever was around whenever needed.  Gohan's hair, however, had different and more human-like texture. He really could use a comb. 

After a moment Raditz returned with a suitable needle, a small device  which turned out to be like miniature vacuum cleaner, a bottle of sanitizing liquid, and cleaning pads. 

Now that Gohan knew the interstellar syllabary, he could read the label on the bottle;  it proclaimed the substance inside was suitable for mammalian skin. 

Raditz told Gohan to use the  sanitizer if his skin still itched after the disinfection procedure. It helped.

Together, they managed to untangle the chaos that was Raditz’ enormous mane of hair. As expected, this  took some time. Gohan learned that the small vacuum machine is used to remove all bits of safely dead and sterilized fauna or flora that remained attached after disinfection. It was cleaner and quicker than picking everything out by hand. 

As soon as they were finished, Raditz sat Gohan on his lap and started patiently untangling the  boy's hair strand by strand until he could freely move his fingers between Gohan's locks. Then he rubbed sanitizer into Gohan’s scalp. Gohan thought it was very calming, pleasant even, but after it was done he needed to have his hair untangled once again, albeit this time it did not take as long. When Gohan's hair was finally smoothed out again Raditz grabbed him under his armpits and moved him from his lap to over one shoulder and then stood up. 

"We have shit to do tomorrow," Raditz proclaimed. He strolled for the nest with Gohan draped over his shoulder and dropped them both on the soft bedding. 

The nest was full of scents. It felt oddly comforting to Gohan. He quickly concluded that Saiyans selected items for building their sleeping spot not only to provide protection from the cold, or even a  soft place to rest, but because they liked the smell.

"It'll be several days before Vegeta and Nappa come back," Raditz said. He lay on his side, head resting on his bended arm. "We need to have everything running in  perfect order in here by then." 

Gohan sat and brought his knees to his chest. He looked at Raditz warily. He didn't like where this was going. Today had been a good day in Gohan's book, the best day he had since leaving Earth. He wanted things to continue being like today. 

"They are going to be in the bad mood when they arrive from Frieza's base." Raditz sighed. "I guess there's no need to worry about it now." He placed a hand Gohan's head again. "So... you like it in here, don't you?"

"It's not bad," Gohan admitted.

"Maybe not," Raditz agreed, but the look on his face was peculiarly sad. " 'S the closest things we have to home now." 

Gohan felt that Raditz included him in that statement. He wondered if he would ever be able to return home, but he wasn't allowed to dwell on that thought long as Raditz spoke once again.

"We rest now." With that, he moved his hand from Gohan's head to his shoulder and pushed him with enough force to topple him over. "Sleep!" he ordered in a soft voice.

Gohan laid for a short while in the same spot with open eyes. He glanced at Raditz, whose eyes were closed and his breath was evening out, but Gohan suspected he was not asleep just yet. 

The light grew dimmer. Maybe the artificial fire was reacting to the lack of movement in the room, or maybe it was programmed to reflect day-and night time.

Gohan drew closer to Raditz and curled against his chest. It was warm and comfortable. Gohan inhaled Raditz's smell. He had gotten used to it. It was calming and somehow it made him feel safe. It was weird. Gohan was always wary of Raditz when the latter was awake. But he liked him when he was asleep. It was comforting to sleep next to him. 

If only things could always be this way! But no, Vegeta was coming in several days. Gohan’s heart pounded. He didn't need to think about it now. He did not want to think about it now. He just wanted the present now. Not the past. There were things in the past, things better left untouched. And not the future. He just wanted here and now. It felt safe to be enveloped in Raditz’ scent. His heart rate calmed. 

A tail brushed along his leg and lightly wrapped itself  around him. Gohan pressed himself closer to his uncle's chest and reached out  his own tail to wrap around Raditz.

He was falling asleep.

They still had several more days, right? 

Authors note

Hey, so what is this story even about? Well, first you can think about this piece as pilot of bigger story I may or may not write. But it is not necessary how the story should star, have I actually write it. It may or may not be the first part - or chapter.

It is obviously a take on popular in DBZ fandom premise: Raditz takes Gohan to space. However it is not a "what if" story. It is not a re-telling of the plot of the manga nor the anime.  The genre is probably psychological. Don't expect story to be action driven. I do not want to spoil the plot - I'm not going to tell you where this is going. And I'm not going to explain what had happened before Raditz and Gohan made it to this point just yet.

But I should probably tell you something if I expect you to get interested in whatever I'm doing here, right? Okay, so in most rudimentary words it is a story about Raditz rising Gohan and about Gohan growing together with Saiyans. I stress the word "rising", because Raditz is rising Gohan here, rather than just training him. Of course he is still training Gohan, that is just not the point of the story. This of course rises a few questions: How this situation would influence Gohan on various levels? What would it mean for Raditz? In my take Raditz is actually motivated to rise Gohan as a Saiyan rather than making him as powerful as possible in shortest time with absolutely no regard for his life let alone safety. Granted Raditz is still a terrible person with selfish motivations, but not all of his motives are "evil" either. He is in an awful situation as well.

There is going to be something about life and relationships between last remaining Saiyans. And something about team from Earth. ChiChi and Goku are going to want their son back, of course. Bulma will help. If I manage to continue this to the end Lunch will make an appearance.

Saiyans still work under Frieza, but they are much more autonomous, than in most other fics. They have sort of their own base of operations, even if they still tend to use PTO facilities from time to time. They are not so strictly controlled either

Expect different forms of abuse. But no sexual abuse, at least not among major characters. Oh, and this is story about Saiyans mainly, so expect unsetting inhuman things here and there. Like having (a sapient) alien for a dinner.

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#Raditz #Son Gohan #dragon ball z #You cannot take it back make it undone #au fanfiction #dbz #dragon ball #dbz fanfiction