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profoundlyfaded · 2 months

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I’m currently toying with fanfic for my main Gale x Tav ‘canon’ playthrough with Ayressa but it’s been years since I’ve written, still, I quite like this wee segment from their first meeting and I wanted to share even if I don’t ever really write much more than this…

‘Look, dead goblins, could have supplies,’ remarked Shadowheart as they reached an actual patch of road.

Ayressa turned to look but a glimmer caught her eye. Purple glinting through foliage, twinkling out like a beacon.

‘Look at that,’ she said to Shadowheart, pointing at the spot. ‘Magic, of some sort.’

‘Do we really want to go toying with random magic on the edge of a Mind Flayer crash site?’ She asked as Ayressa began to move towards it.

‘It magic from the Weave,’ Ayressa replied. ‘Wizard’s magic.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘The resonance,’ Ayressa said as she began to pick her way toward it. ‘All magic casters access the Weave in some form or another to perform their spells and I sense that as a resonance in the air; wizards feel like they’re plucking it, like playing a lyre while sorcerers seem to bounce off it like a thunder wave, other bards sound like they’re singing, its almost siren like.’

‘That sounds... Is that normal?’

Ayressa paused and tilted her head. ‘I’ve never stopped to consider if it is or isn’t,’ she admitted. ‘Even if it is, it’s different for everyone like how some people think in words and others in pictures.’

‘And you’re certain,’ said Shadowheart, ‘that

this is Wizard magic.’

‘Yes,’ Ayressa replied, a swirling portal causing wind to roar in her ears.

‘Looks dangerous.’

‘Yes,’ said Ayressa as she approached it. She raised her hand, trying to feel for the pull of magic and listening for its harmony around the din of its malfunction.

‘A hand, anyone?’

Reality snapped back to her and in the swirling mass was an outstretched hand; male, large and slightly calloused but otherwise pretty well manicured and beyond that a purple robe.

‘Anyone?’ Came the voice again.

She glanced at Shadowheart, who had lifted her mace. Ayressa slapped at the hand, more to assure herself it was real and not some indicator that she was about to transform.

‘Ow,’ exclaimed the person on the other end of hand. ‘Perhaps I should have clarified; a helping hand, anyone?’

Definitely real. And definitely a wizard. ‘Who are you?’ She asked when her wits returned.

‘Just your average traveller stuck between realms. Pull me out and we’ll get properly introduced.’

Ayressa looked at Shadowheart again. The Cleric shrugged but had lowered her mace so Ayressa stretched out her mind again finding the harmony of the spell then began countering it, drawing on the song of sleep she had just used to hush the devourers.

‘Whatever you are doing,’ exclaimed the hand, ‘it’s working wonders. Now a quick pull should do the trick.’

Keeping the song going, she grabbed onto his wrist. Ayressa was hardly the strongest woman alive but the lessening of the torrent of magic might be enough for the wizard to push himself out while she pulled. She hoped so anyway. She braced, then with all her might, tugged using her whole body. It was like pulling at a stubborn wine stopper, and she tugged again while focusing down on the song of sleep and gritting out ‘let him go.’

Then, like a cork becoming free, Ayressa tumbled back as brown haired man came flying out the portal. By the grace of Shadowheart grabbing her, Ayressa did not fall to the ground but the man landed on his hands and knees taking a deep breaths as the portal shut behind him.

‘Well,’ mused Shadowheart as they watched. ‘I’ve heard you can’t get blood from a stone but you can apparently get a wizard.’

‘Very good,’ replied the man as he got to his feet and brushed himself down. ‘Hello, I’m Gale of Waterdeep. Apologies, I’m usually better at this,’ he continued, grabbing Ayressa’s hand to shake.

‘At introductions?’ She asked, slightly dazed by the experience.

‘At magic,’ Gale of Waterdeep said with a slightly sheepish inflection to his voice while his brown eyes tracked over her face, lingering her eyes, jaw and nose. ‘But I know you don’t I, in a manner of speaking, you were on the natualoid, weren’t you?’

His inspection of her face left Ayressa wanting to reach up and touch it, scared for a moment that something had changed. But she registered his gaze was unconcerned, more curious as he tried to place her in his memory of the last few hours. She didn’t recall seeing him and she was sure she would remember.

‘Never mind that,’ she said, ‘how did you get stuck in that stone? You could have died if the portal had closed.’

A pained expression crossed his face, one that Ayressa had seen on many a wizard when their magic was not up to scratch.

‘I don’t know what transpired exactly,’ he admitted, ‘but the ship broke into pieces and suddenly I found myself in free fall.’He spoke with a flourish of his hands skyward and she ended up following his line of sight to quiet blue sky above them. ‘As I plummeting towards certain death, I spied a glimmer of quite near to where I estimated my body to impact with less than savoury propulsion, recognising this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side, as it were.’

He was quite the raconteur; his choice of words had a slightly mesmerising effect on Ayressa but then as a Bard she always enjoyed someone who has a way with words. It helped that he fell into her definition of handsome despite it not being the time for such thoughts.

‘How about you? How did you survive?’

‘Took control of the ship, landed it safely and saved the day,’ she replied without beat and ignoring huff of frustration behind her. ‘She’s just jealous she missed it as well.’

Gale peered over Ayressa’s shoulder, taking in the burning remains and chewed up landscape. ‘The vast, burning wreckage behind you somewhat contradicts your story,’ he replied with a gentle air of playfulness, ‘but here you stand, so who am I to argue.’

Ayressa couldn’t help the tug at her lips at the gentle humour.

‘Swashbuckling heroics aside, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy. Back on the ship you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region.’

As he pointed to his eye, her unwelcome insertion squirmed, reminding her it was there, burrowing away, potentially changing her.

‘I couldn’t have put it more repellently myself,’ she remarked against a sense of rising nausea and desire to claw out her eye.

‘No use sugarcoating it, is there? This insertee we speak of, this parasite, are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation it will turn us into Mind Flayers?’

As she nodded, he continued, ‘it’s a process known as ceremorphousis and let me assure you, it is to be avoided.’

‘I think we’ve all established that much,’ Shadowheart drawled, crossing her arms with a clinking of metal clearly bored of the near monologue Gale was subjecting them too.

His attention turned on her for the first time. As he had done some with Ayressa, he looked her over, perhaps looking for signs of ceremorphousis. His eyes lit up a little. ‘You don’t happen to be a Cleric?’

‘You seem to know enough about our condition to realise it’s beyond most Cleric’s skills,’ she said gently.

‘Most, no doubt, but I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few. You don’t happen to be one of them, do you?’

‘No,’ Shadowheart replied firmly.

‘And what about you?’ Returning his attention back to Ayressa. ‘Cleric? Doctor? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?’

‘Alien parasites are a little out of my usual skill set,’ Ayressa replied, ‘but if you scraped your knee when you fell? I’ve got you covered.’

A smile tilted on Gale’s lips with a soft huff of amusement. ‘As we’ve established, few enough can. It’s not exactly a common affliction. How about we lend one another a helping hand again and look for a healer together? A wizard is excellent company to keep when there could be danger around the next corner.’

‘Why not,’ she said, turning to Shadowheart. ‘We need all the help we can get.’

‘Most excellent, a parasite shared is a parasite halved, or something to that effect and before you think you’re embarking on a journey with ill mannered a man; thank you for pulling me out of that stone. It was an act of foresighted kindness, I assure you and I expect ample opportunity will reveal itself for me to return to the favour.’

‘Well good to have you with us, I’m Ayressa and this is Shadowheart. We need to good spot to camp. I don’t think I can go any further today.’

#gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #bard #shadowheart #gale x tav #Ayressa Aedihle #fanfic maybe #fanfic

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darkpoisonouslove · 2 years

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Any headcanons about Blicy and in particular jealous Icy? Both if they are together and not

Thank you :D

I don't have much currently since I haven't needed a lot of Blicy headcanons for the stories I write and that's how I usually come up with them. But let's see:

Icy will never admit it but looking back on things, she's glad she was there when Bloom first transformed. She did consider Bloom just a weakling of a pixie at first but later learning that Bloom had the Dragon Fire, she started feeling like Bloom was meant to bring the power to Icy and so being witness to Bloom's first transformation makes sense to her.

Later still that develops in Icy feeling like they have this grand pre-destined rivalry. It annoys her that Bloom doesn't seem to take it seriously and that's why she always ups her game in her attempts to take as much as possible from Bloom to force her to start giving her all to their rivalry (that's why she attacked Sky in 2x10). It backfires because it only makes Bloom want to think about Icy as little as possible. She only later finds out that she actually doesn't mind the way Icy challenges her if she doesn't have to worry about Icy harming anyone in the process.

Bloom really wishes she could talk to Icy about the Dragon Fire and the Trix stealing it but she knows that will never happen. She herself was deeply scarred by having the power ripped out of her but she would still like to have someone who understands what it's like to have that power since the only person who does is a spirit that she can only exchange a few words with at a time. And the Trix seemed to know a lot more about their common backstory than she does. However, Icy is absolutely enraged about the way all of that went down and she would never agree to a civil chat. Especially knowing it would soothe a lot of Bloom's anxieties about her powers and the loneliness she experiences because of having it.

Icy actually never planned on killing Bloom because if she does, she feels like it will lessen the impact of her besting Bloom. If Bloom is gone, there will be no one that can stand up to Icy and so her power will not stand out by being juxtaposed with that of the person who has the most powerful magic in the universe. Sure, she'll have her past victory but she can just hear people saying that she used some underhanded trick to kill Bloom which would dispute her skills. Her ideal world for a long time was just fighting Bloom every other day and kicking Bloom's ass every time in a show of superiority.

Icy later discovers that actually losing to Bloom makes her learn and work a lot more than winning does. She likes the fact that when she gets to win, she does because she really put in all her effort and power into it and so it feels deserved and satisfying. She always hated the idea of not being able to win against whoever she's facing but that's because no one ever felt like they could truly match and defeat her. But with Bloom she can accept a defeat if it means she gets to try again and win the rematch. It makes her realize that her ideal world actually includes Bloom's continued existence in her life as an equal with whom she can maintain a balance of defeats and victories.

That's why they end up sparring a lot when they do get together. And they bring some of that competitiveness into other things as well. But not just as them trying their best against each other but also for each other. Icy doesn't feel the need to prove her superiority and flaunt it around because it feels like she's already won everything that matters. She found her match and Bloom likes the fact that she's driven and how much she already has to offer while also encouraging her to be her best self in whatever way Icy understands that. And it turns out that doesn't include taking over the world, actually, when she already feels like she owns the world since she has the best it can offer - her sisters and Bloom and the freedom to not let anyone tell her what to do.

That said, I can't imagine Icy being jealous for those exact reasons. I don't think Bloom would give her a reason to feel jealous either. Sure, their history isn't pretty and it would be cause for concern that Bloom would rather be with someone else but Icy actually takes it as proof that Bloom doesn't want anyone else. A relationship with Icy was about the hardest relationship path Bloom could have taken and she still did it because Icy is who she wants. I can see Icy being very active when it comes to reminding everyone of that, especially the people that try to make Bloom reconsider their relationship. (I could actually see her saying that she could have been the one charming Bloom instead of Avalon and it still would have worked even after what had happened between the two of them the previous year.)

#winx club #winx icy #winx bloom #bloom x icy #blicy #winx headcanons #wc rewrite #ask #anon

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omaticwriting · 9 months

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Enemie da one!! - Chapter 1: Learning bullet magic tricks! (Self taught, gone wrong, gone viral!)

“Mia, is the camera on yet? it’s been twelve minutes already” said a kid with a scratchy voice.his tone was insistent, as another voice, one more feminine replied. Her tone was more confused as the screen of the camera remained pitch black.

“ I think so? But the screen is still black, do you think we did something wrong with it ivan?” she scratched her head, worried if they broke it “can’t be! I made sure it was working before we started” he retorted just what did they do wrong but before we they knew it the screen, once dark now showed a plain backyard, a white fence and a lone fir tree in the distance as two children, a boy with a light brown hair that almost bordered on gray with a hoodie,jeans and snickers with similar color and a girl with blond hair and a teal ribbon on her hair wearing a floral patterned poncho in a similar color to her ribbon that covered most of her body as two small orange wings peeked out her back and a pair of white knee high socks (and no shoes oddly enough).

“Found the problem!” she cheered. Holding what appears to be a camera cap in her hands as a cheeky smile came out. Ivan could only groan at the sight as he could only facepalm at himself for the disappointment they were both in, “I can't believe we’ve wasted twelve minutes trying to fix the camera only to find the reason as to why, was the cap’s still on?!”

Mia innocently shrugs, her smile ever consistent as Ivan sighed before continuing “whatever, let's start now, yeah?” he said to mia who simply replied “mhm!” as she nodded before looking at the camera, a confident smile crept up as he spoke.

“What’s up youtube! It’s me, enemie the one! And today with my friend Mia” he panned the camera to Mia who waved with joy as she said “hi!” before returning the camera to his face “we’ll be doing magic with bullets!” he spoke. Determination and enthusiasm filled his voice as he quickly moved the camera to a white table with several watermelons “wish us luck!” “Ivan? We don’t have magic? Or guns?” Mia stated. A mix of confusion and curiosity, wondering as to how they could use it, let alone get one. Ivan waved her worries aside as he replied with a carefree attitude “Don’t worry about the magic, I just went to your uncle's place and asked if I can copy the stuff he uses ”.

Mia’s eyes widened at his friends reply as she took a step back, she knew her uncle was weird but after he talked to gill and maria of what he actually does, especially what she actually was and on her birthday no less, it felt as if a small rift she never knew reared its head and revealed the ugly truths she never wanted to know, and yet, she still liked him as the weird fun introverted uncle she knew him for even if he now felt intimidating.

“Did he say yes? She asked with some concern. “W-well, no…but i found a way and copied it…” he answered with a nervous tone. sweat poured out as he spoke before continuing. His tone quickly returned “as for guns…BAM!” Ivan reached into his pocket, revealing an airsoft pistol. Runes and marks were poorly carved and etched into throughout the airsoft gun, it’s placement lacked any form nor purpose, a far cry and poor imitation of what his uncle uses that contained a level of elegance and craftsmanship that gave it purpose as ivan’s copy gave a strange glow as small sparks of lighting, harmlessly emitting out of it in all directions.

Mia could only gag at the sight of it, it’s magic was a strong potent mixture of instability and volatility as she attempted to cover nose to stop the smell, or at least lessen the effect on her “ivan, i don’t think it’s a good idea to use that” she spoke with worry and fear as this can’t be good.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, plus this reminds me of the crits in group castle 8!” he said with a little too much confidence,however, Mia didn’t share the sentiment “Ivan, uncle mike’s didn’t do that, so maybe it’s not good?” she argued a bit. Luckily her worries didn’t fall on deaf ears as Ivan nodded as some caution was good as both never did it all so maybe they need to be a bit careful.

“Okay, i’ll do it and you hide behind the tree with ludwig” he told Mia. he didn’t intend to harm anyone, especially on camera, mia could only nod as she ran behind the tree, hoping it would provide enough protection as she sat down, “I’m gonna do it now!” he yelled as Mia peeked out behind the tree, nodding at him before quickly hiding back to watch a familiar black rabbit munching on grass “hi ludwig” she said cheerfully. Stroking the rabbit's body playfully as he ate grass, completely content, and honestly it was infectious as Mia laid down to watch him be content.

…

Ivan took a deep breath, steading his arm as he aimed the enchanted airsoft gun at the watermelon in front of him “okay, here goes!” he said with the utmost determination he could muster, his target just in his sights as he pulled the trigger.

A surge of volatile energy transferred inside the pellet of the gun and in an instant came out at speeds unimaginable as a loud boom escaped the toy firearm followed by a green beam, the force was magnitudes of what ivan expected, forcing him to let go of the gun before stumbling to the ground below as the watermelon’s on the table combust from the power the pellet left behind, followed by unfamiliar breaking of glass.

“That was awesome!” Ivan cheered in exhausted triumph.Mia, Ludwig in her arms ran to ivan with worry before freezing, her eyes wide by something she saw “Mia, did you see that?! those melons didn’t stand a chance!” he boasted with pride, unaware of the source of her shock expression she had plastered “uhh, Mia? Are you” he asked. Confused as to why she was silent before pointing behind him, turning around his face much like hers.

A window, shattered to pieces as inside, showed broken kitchenware and furniture stumbled about as a lone pellet embedded itself inside one of the many broken chairs. Ivan slowly walked back slowly, Mia not too far behind him, quickly picking up the camera the two left the backyard and slowly began to run after seeing Maria, her eyes opened with an expression of death written all over her, forcing the two to run faster as Ivan quickly moved the camera to his face.

“That’s all the time for today, be sure to like and subscribe! Join me and Mia in the next video where we’ll be spending time with Mia’s uncle mike…possibly forever” he murmured the last words as he turned the camera off.

#fanfic #miasworld #writing

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berrydoodleoo · 3 years

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If Ignis were himself, he would no doubt have counseled them against the trip, or at least proposed some kind of clever work around. Gladio would have loomed and grumbled, and then would have been the first to bow at Luna’s bedside with some courtly, if gruff, remark. But of course, Ignis wasn’t himself, and really, neither was Gladio. And Noctis knew it was all his fault.

But Prompto was insistent, and he was trying so hard to be himself and keep things light. He'd taken over Iggy’s duties of cooking and planning their trip, and still found time and energy to help Ignis activate the handicap settings on his phone while keeping up a steady stream of light-hearted chatter. Not to mention visiting Luna and helping out with the rescue and relief efforts. It was like watching someone do a ballet in a field full of giant boulders – three of which were named Ignis, Noctis, and Gladiolus – he just kept moving, kept dancing, and you almost couldn’t see the toll it was taking on him.

Almost.

So Prompto brought up visiting Luna’s hospital room again, as-if casually, mentioning that he’d had word from Weskham as to where she was currently hidden, and that he was sure he could get them in without being noticed by Imperial spies. And besides, Pryna had licked his hand when he’d visited last, which probably meant that Luna was going to wake up soon, any day now, and wouldn’t it be something if she woke up while Noct was there? A kiss from Prince Charming, eh?

Gladio had snorted, an ugly, mocking sound, and Prompto had stuttered to a halt, with an expression like his heart was breaking. Ignis had averted his face, just slightly. Shutting the whole world out. And Noctis had dredged up a voice (his own? someone else’s?) from the vise clamping his chest and said sure, Prom, let’s go.

And so they did.

Traveling the streets of devastated Altissia in Lucian royal black was probably unwise, but Prompto seemed to exude a notice-me-not aura that, in conjunction with the chaos still gripping the city, was enough to let them travel unmolested. They kept to the areas packed with refugees where possible, where everyone had their eyes glued to the screens announcing ferries and how long the current wait lists were (some were hours, most were days) instead of at each other. It did nothing for his nerves, which were a constant jangle, but at least no one stopped them. Or worse, shouted, hey, Prince Noctis!

The hospital was mostly intact, at least from the outside. Upon entering, it became clear that it had suffered a beating, either from Leviathan or the Imperial forces. The first level was still flooded, the polished marble turned treacherous by a thin layer of mud. The smell of mold competed with the smell of hospital bleach, and Noctis almost gagged.

There was a crowd here, too, too many people to fit in the emergency room reserved for the most critical cases. Noctis stood aside as Prompto shuffled about, standing on his toes, trying to find the best way forward without attracting too much attention.

A little kid with a bloody rag tied to his forehead stared at them. Noctis met his eyes and then regretted it, trying to look away and act casual. When he glanced up, the kid had wandered from his sleeping mother to stand beside them, still staring silently.

Prompto almost collided with the kid, and then did a double-take. “Hey!” he exclaimed quietly, and he sounded happy. “Stanford, my man!” He crouched, careful to keep the edges of his jacket out of the water. “How you doin’? Still waiting for a doctor, huh?”

Stanford – he must have been a few years younger than Talcott, too young to be so injured and haunted-looking – nodded, popping his filthy thumb into his mouth.

“Can I take a look, dude?” Prompto asked, gentle, touching the bandage on the child’s head. He nodded again.

It made Noctis’ eyes water, seeing how gentle Prompto was with the kid. He unwound the bandage and checked the wound beneath – the sight made Noctis wince – and produced some wrapped bandages and antiseptic wipes seemingly from his pocket (Noct felt the tug that meant they’d really come from the Armiger). He talked the whole time – man, those are cool shoes, I love chocobos, and how old are you again, dude? like, sixteen, right? or seventeen, you’re in high school, right – trying to coax some words out of him. Stanford was clearly listening, half-smiling at Prompto’s jokes, but was otherwise unresponsive.

He submitted to the cleaning with only a little tearyness. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t about anything Prompto had said.

“Do you have more magic potions?” he asked hopefully.

Prompto winced, shooting a quick glance at Noct. They’d agreed early on not to share their potions with people – it was too easy to trace them back to Noct, and Ignis was always concerned they would run out at the worst possible moment (which, to be fair, they had done so more than once).

“Not at the moment, little dude,” Prompto was jittering, hurrying to finish wrapping the bandage, “but uh, maybe later, I can, uh–”

Noctis reached into his back pocket and summoned a potion from the Armiger, the same trick Prompto had just pulled. It was weak – he just hadn’t been able to summon the magic for a proper Elixir once it was clear they wouldn’t help Ignis’ eyes – but it would help ward off infection and help with pain management. For a little while.

Stanford’s eyes lit up, and he started to snatch the glowing bottle from Noct’s hand. But then he hesitated. “For – for me?” he asked, staring up at Noct with the hugest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Yeah.” Noct tried to smile for him, extending the potion a bit further. “Of course.”

Stanford accepted the bottle, hugging it to his chest as if were a precious treasure. Now his eyes glowed with happiness, watching Noct, and he stood obediently still as Prompto finished retying the headband that kept his bandage in place. “Can I share it with my mom?” he eventually asked.

Noctis glanced at the sleeping woman, and wondered what was wrong with her. Was she injured, too, or just exhausted? “Yeah,” he said again. “Just don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

Would the woman even accept it, if her son told her he had a magic potion from a strange man? Well, maybe she would assume it came from a doctor, or that it was still the harmless bottle of (Noctis checked) apple juice it had started out as. Albeit glowing apple juice. Well, marketing, right? Maybe it wouldn’t seem too weird.

It was Stanford’s to do with as he chose. If he wanted to give it to his mom, or a total stranger, or pour it down the drain, Noctis wouldn’t stop him. He just didn’t have the energy.

Stanford’s eyes went even wider, but he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said.

Brave little man. Noctis tried to smile for him again, moved his lips in the familiar gesture, and the kid tried to smile in return. If his own forced smile made him look as sad as Stanford’s did, Noctis mused, then it was no wonder people kept flinching away at the sight.

They found an un-monitored stairwell, the door blocked off with yellow tape. It quickly became clear as to why it was locked down – some tree branches and half a gondola were poking through the battered walls, tossed through marble and concrete by Leviathan’s rage. Worse, there were puddles of slimy water everywhere.

Prompto kept ahold on Noct’s arm – Noct realized he’d been doing that since they left their borrowed refuge in the Secretary’s home, as if Noct would drift away without the anchor – as they made their way up the stairs. “I don’t think he’s gonna keep it a secret, man.”

Noct had to blink himself back to the present. “Huh?”

“Stanford. With the potion.”

Noct shrugged. “Didn’t get the impression he was talking much.”

“Noct…”

“It’s not a big deal. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Prompto seemed deflated, guiding him up the stairs. “Yeah.”

Noct let himself be led. What did Prompto expect him to say? Maybe he wanted Noct to go back down the stairs and offer to help everyone else in the room. Give out their store of potions, grab some bottles of water and start enchanting those, too. Act like a king for once, instead of piece of luggage that had to be carted to and fro by people smarter and more capable.

“I just feel bad, you know?” Prompto said, his voice echoing a bit in the humid, smelly space. “I’ve never done anything to deserve you guys – traveling with you guys, using your magic, seeing the gods, I – I don’t deserve any of this – this magic, this specialness, I’m just –” He swallowed. “And then there’s kids like Stanford, and man, I just don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything.”

Noctis let his arm slide through Prompto’s grip until he could squeeze his hand. They paused, side-by-side as they sidled around a piece of crushed stairwell, and Prompto squeezed back. Hard.

Noct started feeling floaty once they left the stairwell. Parts of this floor were still in use, despite the damage and the flickering lights. But Prompto knew the way, avoiding the lighted areas, and led him to a dark hallway behind more yellow tape.

Noct felt his steps slowing. He and Prompto’s arms, connected by their held hands, stretched like a rope between two ships tugged in opposite directions. They reached a door, Prompto produced a key, and Noct thought he might faint. He pulled free of Prompto’s grip to lean against the wall, heart laboring, spots filling his vision.

Luna. Luna was on the other side. Once he saw her, it would all be real.

He needed more time. Time to get ready, time to be better, time to be the King she believed he was. All he could picture was her face – somewhere between the child he’d known and the woman he’d seen in official broadcasts – crumpling in disappointment, and the fact that it hadn’t happened (yet) did nothing to lessen the pain. Gods. Gods. He couldn’t do this. More time—

Prompto’s face appeared, looking worried and frantic, and then Noct was being hauled into the unlocked room despite his sluggish limbs. He heard the door shut behind them, closing them in safely. And when he opened his eyes, he was in Luna’s hospital room.

“Dude,” Prompto was whispering. “Breathe.”

Noct nodded.

“Breathe. Breathe.” Prompto pressed a quick, awkward kiss to his forehead. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Noct breathed, or tried to breathe. When he opened his eyes, he could see Luna in her hospital bed, traced in appallingly bright sunshine, and he swayed again. Prompto caught him, held him up, held him in place. Just held him, really.

For a minute, he had the inane thought that Clarus and Gladio were on the other side of the door, and if they came in they would see Noct snuggling with Prompto and the game would be up. And then he remembered that Clarus was dead, that Gladio wanted nothing to do with him, and that this wasn’t his father’s hospital room, after the stroke that nearly claimed his life a year ago. Something about the smell, the beeping, the seafoam green of the curtains and blankets, must have taken him back. And his dad was dead, anyway, dead like Clarus, dead like Ignis almost was, dead like Luna almost is….

“I can’t do this,” Noct whispered, when Prompto backed off to give him a little space.

Ignis would have said, yes you can, Highness. Majesty. Gladio would have said, don’t give me that crap, you’re gonna do your duty if it kills us both. Luna would have said, none of us know what we can do until we do it, or fail trying. But I do believe in you, Noctis.

Prompto just whispered, “I know, man.” Noctis met his eyes, briefly, and the love and sorrow there stole his breath. “That’s why I’m here to help.”

Noctis glanced back, thinking of escape, about making excuses and stepping out, running away, back to the Secretary’s house and the room where Ignis and Gladio tip-toed around each other and the smothering silence. And then he swallowed, and squeezed Prompto’s hand, and nodded, meeting his eyes one more time.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Prompto led him forward, into the light.

#ffxv #promptis #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #my art #my fic

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written-in-knife · 3 years

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MC with tics (All Characters)

I was ticking at work and thought of this! I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else do one of these, so I figured I’d do one. Remember, everyone with tics has different experiences and these are mostly based on mine, this isn’t meant to be offensive in any way to anyone. And this is my first headcanon post! Hope you like it!

WARNING: Tic mentions, mostly vague descriptions of tics, mentions of self harm during tic attacks

Lucifer

He tries his best, he really does

Tries very hard to treat you like anyone else no matter what you say or do

But sometimes he just cannot ignore a tic

He knows you can't help when and what you tic

But that doesn't stop him from at least lecturing you now and then when you say the wrong thing at the wrong time

"I understand you cannot control your tics, but you cannot say Lord Diavolo has large breasts when he is in the room!"

Knows he can't help very much during a tic attack, especially if he's busy, but will immediately get someone who can help if you need it

Will check up on you afterwards, whether you want to talk about it or want a distraction from the fact that it happened, he's there

Reminds you his office is open for you if you just need a quiet place to go at any point

Mammon

Made fun of you when you first showed up

He feels awful about it now but your tics still make him laugh sometimes

And does get annoyed by the clicking and whistling sometimes

He's alright to go to during a tic attack

He'll try his best to make sure you don't hurt yourself and provide distractions

And he will absolutely wait it out with you the whole way through

Appalled when you tell him he can just leave you alone during attacks

"What? Do ya not want help from the GREAT MAMMON?"

Actually terrified to leave you by yourself during attacks, but will very reluctantly leave if you insist during one

Will defend you to the death, literally if he has to, if someone is making fun of you

Leviathan

I headcanon him as having anxiety based tics that flare up when he's stressed or excited

The two of you "call and respond" with your tics so often the others will separate you if you're not in either of your rooms

You have absolutely developed anime based tics because of this boi

He's one of the best, if not the best, to call when you're having a tic attack

He makes sure you're comfortable and brings fidget items and distractions and will try his best to gently stop you if any of your tics inflict self harm

May have to leave though if your tics start triggering his own or vice versa

Will gift you fidget items that have helped him, most of them are anime themed, of course

Satan

He read up on tics when Lucifer told everyone you had them

Knew partially from Levi, but since he mostly keeps to himself, he didn't look into the finer details

He knows in theory what to do and what not to do

But this boy is absolutely not into it at first

You best not be near him when he's already pissed off or reading

Your clicks and whistles when he's trying to read irritates him to the point where he will relocate himself out of the HoL if he has to just to finish a chapter

He tries his best not to take it out on you, he knows you cant help it, but he has snapped at you a handful of times

Will absolutely pass you off to someone else if you start having a tic attack

But will check up on you when its over with a cup of tea and an apology

Asmodeus

Has a love-hate relationship with your tics

Most of the time he finds them great, some of them are hilarious and you gave him permission to laugh if they're funny and no one is getting hurt

Other times you say something about him that he doesn't like

Or you end up hurting yourself! And neither of those will do.

Tries his best to help during tic attacks but he doesn't really know what to do

Will try to follow your instructions but will probably end up calling for help from someone else or just waiting with you quietly nearby

You have developed lots of tics because of him including "I love you" and "Your hair is shit"

Like I said, love-hate relationship.

Beelzebub

I headcanon him as being the brother whos closest to Levi, so he's way more used to it than the others

He's the one most likely to copy your tics. Not to be mean, just because some of the noises you make are fun and he likes them

Will immediately stop and never do it again if you ask him not to though

Sweet sunshine boy tries his hardest to help during tic attacks but doesn't exactly know what to do

If any of your tics inflict self harm during an attack he will just try to hold you to make you stop

Will be the quickest to apologize if he triggers a tic

Will also be the quickest to come to your defense if someone is making fun of you at RAD

No matter how much he reacts or responds to them, he's probably the least bothered by your tics and is the easiest to hang out with

Belphegor

Another one who absolutely was not into it at first

He tries his best not to react to your tics but sometimes he's tired or irritated and your tics just annoy him

He will just silently remove himself from the room, even if you're the only two in that room

Is very glad to find out you don't tic in your sleep and it won't interrupt your shared nap time

He will also pass you off to literally anyone else during a tic attack

But he will leave his pillow with you during it

When you find him after the attack to return his pillow, he demands cuddles and a nap because you probably need one right? You deserve one, anyway.

Absolutely delighted when he discovers a tic that annoys Lucifer and will very subtly try to trigger ones he knows will set the eldest off

Diavolo

He find you absolutely fascinating

Asks so many questions about your condition, why tics happen, what they feel like, why you can't control them, how many humans have tics

You were very cautious about being around him when you first arrived at the Devildom, you didn't want to embarrass yourself or Lucifer

Until you had a wild new tic during a visit with him

Asmo had asked you what you thought of Lord Diavolo

And your tics responded for you with "he's got some tig ol biddies"

You thought Lucifer was going to pop a blood vessel

Luckily Diavolo did not know what "tig ol biddies" were

Unluckily he kept asking Lucifer to define the phrase for him

You got a hefty lecture that night

But Diavolo finds you delightful and that’s what counts, right?

Barbatos

Is the least concerned about your normal ticking

No matter what you say, what sounds you make, what gestures you make, what you do

As long as you're not hurting yourself, he will absolutely just treat you like everyone else

Doesn't even have to ask which phrases are tics and which aren't, he just knows

Was around for the "tig ol biddes" tic

You only saw it for a split second, maybe it was a trick of the light, but he cracked an amused smile at it

Another good one to go to if you're having a tic attack

He'll make you comfortable and bring you anything you need, but he won't stick around, he has work to do

He'll check in on you though, call for someone if you want, and be there for you once its over

Solomon

Other than Levi, understands the most about tics

He's lived in the human realm for a long time, you can't tell me he hasn't encountered other people with tics

Is the most likely to jokingly respond to your tics

"Your hair is shit!" "Then pay for my haircut."

Will offer magical assistance (experimental) to lessen your tics

Will immediately call Simeon if he even suspects a tic attack coming on

He'll wait it out with the two of you, but he doesn't want to try to help you by himself

Has some real snarky comments for anyone making fun of you at RAD

Simeon

Would be the least concerned about your tics if it weren't for the cussing

As an angel, he's almost required to clutch his pearls and give you a look when he hears some of the colorful phrases that come out of your mouth

He doesn't say anything since he knows you can't help it

Another good one to go to if you're having a tic attack

He will absolutely get you anything you need and make you as comfortable as possible

Very patiently waits it out with you and comforts you when you get frustrated

Had a moment of internal panic when you developed one of Levi's TSL tics

Luke

Has nearly as many questions as Diavolo; what are they, why do they happen, how long have you had them, why do you say that

Needs Simeon supervision to be around you, just in case

Gets his ears covered a lot, but still ends up asking what some of your more… explicit phrases mean

After a long time of being friends with the young angel, he finally convinced you to bake with him, despite your insistence that it was not a good idea

But you both had a lot of fun with it! Even with the mess the two of you had to deal with afterwards!

Your hands were clean, it didn't matter too much that you dipped your finger in the batter and dragged in across his forehead while saying "Simba"

Didn't get the reference anyway, which did prompt a good movie night

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me hcs #knifes hcs #mine

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plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years

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A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

#loki #loki series #lokane #tva loki #loki fanfic #loki ff #lokane ff #lokane fanfic #loki x jane #jane foster #shine a light #plainlo inthemorning #doctor strange #stephen strange #tony stark

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bitch-its-me-alv · 4 years

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Rose Gold Days Pt3

@crystalangelluna @k-poplunardreams @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime @lilypos03

Pt2 Pt4

Dick was having a good night on patrol, it was a quiet night, maybe with two or three simple thieves that he handed over to the police without much fuss.

His mother was visiting that week, having found an important clue to the terrorist Hawkmoth's reasoning, she stayed at the mansion while the bats computer accelerate the investigation. The protective spells his mother always put on him were doing their thing under the keblar suit and all the latest generation armor.

With his father it was the same, awkward demonstrations of love and many fun workouts. The highlight of his life recently was when Bruce told him that he was proud of him.

It had been a few weeks ago, Mari was out of town, so Nightwing and Batman had gone on patrol together. Bruce always stayed on the roofs of buildings, running and using the hook simply for the widest jumps. But Dick liked to swing, pirouette on the air and land theatrically, a part of the circus boy would never come out of him.

Batman could see that, and he simply allowed him to do his tricks while probing the streets.

After stopping a gunfight in the middle of the street, batman and nightwing were back in the cave. With dick chattering about his possible occupation as a cop when he grew up. In the middle of talking about how much he wanted to help civilians inside and outside the suit, his father interrupted him with:

“i'm proud of you son”

To simply ruffle his hair and continue the routine after the patrol. Dick froze in the middle of the batcave garage until Alfred asked him if everything was okay.

That night, by video call Marinette saw her son with the biggest smile of all, while talking to her about his plan to become a police officer. He hadn't even taken off his suit when the call ended a few hours later.

When nightwing entered the batcave thinking about the family's plans for the night, he certainly didn't expect to see a dirty and beaten 9-year-old boy next to his parents.

He seemed to be nervous, scared, and angry, looking at batman and ladybird as if they were going to bite him. As soon as he fully examine him, nightwing got excited

“Do you guys got me a baby brother?!”

Everyone in the cave got nervous. Batman put a hand between the boy and his son, fearing that Nightwing would get too close to Jason, or Jason would try to hit him.

Ladybird tried not to show too excited at the prospect of her beloved Nightwing with a little brother.

And Jason was just trying not to collapse on the ground, definitely stealing the Batmobile's tires was not a very good idea, now he would die in the hands of the vigilantes, what a way to die for an orphan.

“Nightwing sweetheart, we are going to talk to Jason here. Please wait up stairs.”

Nightwing didn't argue, he could spy on them perfectly on his trapezium in the hidden room. The echo in the Batcave was impressive.

He began to think what kinds of activities they could do if they started being siblings. Would they allow him to be vigilant? Would he go to school with him?

Was it a requirement to be a black-haired boy with blue eyes to be adopted? Why did Mari and Bruce want to keep those traits on the line?

Nightwing was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't really hear anything they were saying until his father entered the room.

"Nightwing come down for a moment, we need to talk. Nothing serious, I just want to know what you think about it." Batman spoke. Nightwing only took a few somersaults to hit the ground.

Batman took a few seconds in silence to admire his son's abilities. Although Mari also did gymnastics and stunts, he was still disturbed and impressed by the movements of Ladybird and Nightwing.

"So ... Jason ... He ..." Batman couldn't find a proper way to start.

"Will you guys do it my little brother? Can we play on the trapezoids together? Will we go to school together? Say yes, pleaaaaaaaase.“ Nightwing grabbed his cape by the shoulders, in a futile attempt to shake him. Just managing to hang up on Batman… he still wasn't very tall to say.

Batman visibly deflated, relieved that his son took the idea of having a brother well. Of course he didn't expect any backlash, they were talking about Nightwing / Richard, a teenager who was all charisma, smiles, and justice.

Batman carefully dropped the vigilante. "So if so, we should go with Mari and Jason. Remember that he is new to this situation, it is understandable that he is nervous, if he wants to tell you where he comes from it will be his decision.”

"I'm not ten years old anymore batsy, I can manage to meet my little brother without problems."

"We'll see"

Ladybird put a hand gently on his shoulder.

"You can reconcide your answer if you're not sure Jason. We don't want to pressure you into anything, we just want you to be better"

Jason hugged his legs sitting in the main computer chair. "As long as I have food and a roof everything is fine, ladybird" His eyes were opaque, tired of life on the streets for a child.

Ladybird felt her chest clench a little more. "Jason, honey. We want you to join our family. Not only are you an act of charity, you may not feel comfortable with many things, but we want you to be well above all things.

Jason relaxed, but not quite. Ladybird knew it would take time. He was not like Dick, who upon arrival needed hugs and conversations about his nightmares.

Jason was a little more battered by life, neglect and general evil in Gotham, but he was still a child who needed guidance and love.

She was sure he and Dick would connect very well.

*Seven days after Jason´s arrival*

Jason was still insecure around adults, but he instantly became attached to Dick, much to his delight.

Despite his trademark smile, and the constant comforting touches that Jason was not used to. It was great to have an older brother, and a house, food, and real parents ...

He was fortunate that it was winter break, so Dick spent the whole day showing him around the mansion, and telling him anecdotes about his life at the mansion and before the Dupain-Cheng Wayne adopted him.

As for Bruce and Marinette, they were patiently waiting for Jason to get used to it.

They had both agreed that raising another child was going to be difficult. But they already had some experience, Bruce was in his best mental and emotional space, and Marinette had better control of the terrorist situation in Paris along with more experience in motherhood.

The rules about becoming a vigilante or hero were in place.

Bruce worked on his communication, and Marinette lessened her maternal paranoia.

*Two months after Jason´s arrival*

As soon as Jason settled in with Bruce and Mari, Dick had the brilliant idea to take another family photo, after all they now had a new member.

Jason began to express himself smoothly, showing a special interest in weapons and books.

Perhaps in another family things would have become complicated with his interests. But Bruce was a spoiling father with Marinette backing him up.

So the library of the mansion was very well dusted, three more shelves with different books were added. The Batcave's armory expanded, and Mari quickly put her protection spells on Jason, as soon as he began practicing under their supervision.

During free afternoons, Jason would be in Bruce's office, reading by his side while Bruce worked on the paperwork.

Other days he would be with Dick playing video games or sharing a mystery series in the projection room or in his own rooms.

And he would also meet Mari in the gardens, lying in a hammock while Mari sang for him and worked on his sketches. Or in the second kitchen, with Dick and him waiting to try the desserts she made first.

As family activities there will always be meals, movie nights, outings, and training.

Jason had already decided that he also wanted to be on the vigilante job. Motivated by his time on the streets, and decided to protect the children who suffered like him, but did not have the same luck.

When he saw that the painting on the main stairs had been changed, for the family portrait in which he had posed. He felt something warm in his chest, an inexplicable sensation that made his eyes water.

Twelve-year-old Jason Dupain-Cheng Wayne Todd was very happy with his family.

School sucked, but Mari and Bruce were always on the lookout for him. He was very good in his fighting classes, handling weapons and in parkour.

He didn't have many civilian friends, but the Titans and Roy were everything Jason wanted.

Dick was starting his police training, so he wasn't in the mansion all the time now, but he had no plans to walk away while Jason was still at school.

His mother had given Dick the miraculous dog, his kwami Barkk, always accompanied him, even in his new training.

Jason had been handed the Miraculous Ox, with his Kwami Stompp when he had earned his right to be on the field.

Red Hood appeared in support of Batman despite Marinette's concerns.

Batman did not want magic in the vigilantes, and his family could respect that. But it was not an impediment for the kwamis to be active.

Bruce was very pleased with the development of his second son on patrol. And Jason was more than happy to swing between buildings and hit thieves.

Things were calm and happy, the Dupain-Cheng Wayne family happily unaware of a certain ten-year-old stalker who was watching his hero, Batman, Nightwing and Ladybird closely.

Yeah… Jason literally wouldn't know what hit him next time.

Certainly meeting your new brother kidnapping him wasn't a good start. But no one would say that to Timothy Jackson Drake, so it will be quite a show.

#maribat #brucinette #mominette #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #richard grayson #marinette x batfam #marinette x bruce #dick is a happy boi #Jason is a happy boi #jason todd #mari takes care of all bat kids INCLUIDInG Batman fight me

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clareguilty · 4 years

Text

Bewitched by a Deadman's Heart

I had an anon request Pirate AU Gabe and then I took a month to write it im so sorry anon i hope youre still here

Read it here on the AO3 Gabriel Reyes/Reader | Pirate AU Rating: Mature/Explicit | No Warnings Word count: ~2600

You never took your eyes off the captain as he stalked back and forth through the hold. Sweeping black and crimson coat, broad hat. He had worn a white bone mask when he entered; now you could see his face.

He wasn’t human. Not fully. Monstrous, a beast made more of smoke than bone. You had seen men like him before, cursed by Neptune. They were all the same, unrepentant bastards. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Chains chafed and scratched at your wrists and ankles, and the gag was making your jaw ache terribly. Being held prisoner was unsurprisingly dreadful. A lantern swayed violently, casting strange living shadows through your cell.

Just get on with it. You rolled your eyes. Mortals were always so predictable. This whole fiasco was more of an annoyance than anything.

The captain disappeared, vanished between one step and the next. You jumped as you felt a presence behind you. He had rematerialized within the bars of your cell.

A large rough hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your head back until you met dark eyes.

“I hate for things to be this way,” he said, voice cold. You didn’t have it in you to believe him. How many cruel men had sailed the seas, capturing and hunting your brothers and sisters? You scoffed behind the gag.

The captain’s grip tightened and then released all at once. You slumped to the floor at his feet, glaring up at him with as much contempt as you could manage. His expression softened minutely. “You’re innocent. It was not you who cursed me with this form.”

Then let me go, you thought.

“I need you to summon Neptune. I need him to reverse what he has done.”

You did not lessen the force of your glare. The captain held your gaze: a stalemate.

But mortals lack patience, and he quickly caved. A heavy boot collided with your side, and you cried out behind the gag. Scrambling as far as your chains would allow, you never looked away.

The captain growled and disappeared once more. He emerged from the shadows, storming out of the hold and slamming the door behind him.

You slumped in your binds. Captain Gabriel Reyes, the Reaper of the Seas. The ship you were currently imprisoned on could be none other than the Blackwatch.

If anyone were to capture you, then at least it was the most fearsome pirate alive. Your pride couldn’t have handled if you had been stolen by some nobody with hardly a feat to his name.

For all the rumors that surrounded Captain Reyes and the Blackwatch, you had not known about Neptune’s curse. What had he done to earn such a fate? You wondered if he had been cursed before he turned to piracy, or if he had committed a crime worse than any other during his reign of terror.

He wanted the curse lifted. He wanted Neptune himself to undo his punishment. How precocious. How would your situation change if Captain Reyes knew you were capable of granting him his wish? It wasn’t difficult magic. You had taken on far greater feats back in the time of heroes. It had been centuries since you had really been able to test yourself.

Not that you were very inclined to help out the bastard that captured you, trussed you up, tossed you in a cell, and kicked you. Being a Nereid didn’t mean that you were incapable of bruising.

You sulked a few hours in the dim cell. The Reaper would be back. You would be able to survive torture if it came to that, but you certainly hoped this beast knew better. You looked forward to being released from your chains, then you could exact vengeance for your mistreatment.

The door to the hold creaked open and the captain stepped inside. He was still in his crimson coat, cutlass at his hip, yet he carried a bowl of food and a bottle.

Something emerged from the shadows behind you, pulling the gag from your lips. It was a neat trick.

Reyes stopped outside the door to your cell. “I-” He genuinely looked unsure. “I wasn’t sure if you needed to eat. I’ve brought you food.”

You scoffed, eyeing the bowl with disdain. “I enjoy divine offerings and sweet wine.” Divine offerings were a thing lost to time, but stale bread and boiled vegetables held no appeal for you.

The captain set the plate down and vanished. He rematerialized within the cell, leaned back against the bars, arms crossed.

You stared up at him, expectantly.

He was quiet for a long while. You waited. At last, he sighed and spoke. “I’m sorry for stealing you away.”

“Then let me go.” If he truly was sorry, he would have freed you.

“I can’t do that.” His voice was sharp. “You’re my only hope of lifting this damned curse.”

You slumped in your bonds, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. “What did you even do to deserve the wrath of Neptune?”

The captain’s frown deepened. “What haven’t I done? I staged a mutiny against my commander in the navy, turned against crown and company, attacked and pillaged any ship that crossed my path. I’ve slain. I’ve slaughtered. This curse has made me the perfect killer.”

You didn’t have it in you to be impressed. “Many men have done worse than you and never ended up cursed by the god of the sea.”

The captain sighed. "It was after a victory against Commander Morrison-"

"The one you mutinied?" You asked.

“Yes, the one I mutinied. He's my greatest rival, always armed with the best of the king's dogs. We had won a battle, and gained quite a bit from it. I was boastful -- drunk -- and talking to my crew.

"'Just you wait,' I said. 'We'll take down every ship on these seas and sail right to old Neptune himself. He doesn’t stand a chance against us.' That was enough, apparently. A storm swept in, and suddenly… I was this."

You laughed. “He’s done far worse for far less offense.” Such a curse for such a trivial mistake -- the god must have been rather cranky that day. “You insult the god of the sea and decide the best way to make amends is to capture a member of his court? To tie her up and beat her? You sure have a strange method of going about things.”

The captain looked sheepish, almost repentant.

“I have a request.”

Captain Reyes glanced up in surprise. He probably wasn’t used to his prisoners being so bold.

“I’d like to see the moon,” you continued.

“The moon?”

“I can still feel her call. The tides have risen. Could I just see her, please?”

You could see his mind working, trying to determine if this was a trick. That’s not to say that you wouldn’t take any chance you could get to escape, but you were patient. You would wait for the right opportunity.

The captain made his choice, kneeling beside you to release the chains on your ankles. Your arms remained bound, and he lifted you to your feet with remarkable strength. He helped you out of the cell and up to the main deck, gently lifting you through the hatch. The members of his crew watched you, but didn’t say anything. You kept your gaze straight ahead.

The water was inky black save for the silver crests of waves. You longed to dive in, to return to the safety of Neptune’s court and escape the troubles of mortals. But the captain held fast to your chains.

The clouds parted, and the brilliant light of the moon washed over the ship deck. You basked in the glow. It was safety and comfort after the hours you had spent locked away.

captain Reyes was surprisingly patient, letting you gaze into the sky until the clouds rolled through once more. The darkness ached, but you resigned yourself to another sentence in your cell.

“Would you-” The captain struggled to find his words. “I do not have to take you back down below deck.” He said.

“And I suppose you’ll be setting me free then?” you smiled dryly.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. But you could remain in my quarters for the time being. Until you call to Neptune, until my curse is lifted, I cannot let you leave this ship. But I can make your time here as comfortable as possible.”

You considered his offer. “How do you know I will not simply steal away after you have fallen asleep?” It was a good way to get you locked back in the cell, but you couldn’t keep yourself from testing him.

“I don’t sleep. The curse… I am unable to rest, to dream.” He looked anguished.

“And you wish to torture yourself further by inviting me to fill your waking hours?”

He pulled sharply on your chains. “I can lock you up again if that is what you truly wish.” His voice was an inhuman growl.

You yanked back, defiant. The bruises would look horrid, but you weren’t about to cower before this beast. “You forget who has the true power here. Locking me away will only worsen your punishment. If you thought Neptune was angry before, then you should imagine how he punishes those who have harmed the members of his court.”

The wind whipped around you, waves rising taller and taller. A crewmate shouted from below deck as the entire ship rocked on the raging sea. The captain’s eyes widened in fear. Since your capture, you had hidden the true power of your magic.

“I won’t free you,” he snarled. “Not until my curse is lifted.”

“You will treat me with the respect I deserve as a spirit of the sea,” you demanded. The ocean roared. Your threats were not empty. The captain acquiesced.

“I will protect and care for you within my power. You must call to Neptune. Have him free me.”

The waves began to calm, wind dying down between one breath and the next. You never took your eyes off Captain Reyes. “Take me to your quarters.”

He locked the door behind him as soon as you were inside. You took a seat on the fanciest, most plush looking chair you could find, eyes scanning the walls and shelves. Captain Reyes’s quarters were luxurious, filled with treasures and trophies from his conquests.

He dropped a bottle into your lap. You inspected it carefully.

“Sweet wine,” he said, removing his coat and cutlass to hang. “I’m all out of ‘offerings’.”

You pried the cork from the bottle with your teeth and took a sip of the wine. It certainly was sweet, nicer than you expected a pirate to have. You helped yourself to a long pull.

Captain Reyes was slouched in a chair across the room, looking decidedly mortal as he rubbed his forehead and let out a long sigh.

“Why do you refuse to do as I ask?”

You cradled your bottle, rattling the chains around your wrists as you raised your eyebrow. “I consider myself very generous when I’m not being snatched away by pirates. To be honest, I’m waiting for the first chance I get to destroy your ship and crew and escape.”

“I may just hunt you down again, you know. I could even find a way to kill you.” His words were empty, though. There was no heart behind them.

“Why do you want your curse lifted so badly?” you asked. “Does it not make you the most powerful man on the seas? Strong? Tireless? Unkillable?”

He disappeared from the chair, rematerializing right above you. Monstrous and formless, black smoke and long teeth and glowing eyes. “Is there not more than just power and glory? I am not the monster I was cursed to be. This form… I’m a beast! My own crew fears me. I’m alone. Unable to sleep or dream or feel. All of my victories mean nothing.”

You dropped the bottle in shock, wincing as it clattered and rolled across the fine rug.

Captain Reyes was gone. Back across the room, shoulders hunched. He leaned against the wall, heaving with breaths he didn’t need.

You stood, chains rattling as you slowly made your way towards him. Reaching slowly, you placed a hand on his arm. He didn’t react to your touch. “What will you do? When you are mortal again?”

Slowly, he turned to look at you. Defeated. Captain Gabriel Reyes, the Reaper of the Blackwatch. He looked defeated.

“I’ll carry on. I’ll take my crew and my ships, and I’ll keep on as I always have.”

“Without your curse, you would be in danger.” You led him over to the bed. He sat beside you, staring at his hands. They were clawed, monstrous.

“I’m not afraid of danger.”

“What are you afraid of?” You clasped one of his hands between your own.

“I’m afraid of being alone. Of being unwanted. I’ll spend eternity as a monster, and one day I may lose myself and become nothing but beast.”

It wasn’t what you expected. The ruthless Reaper, afraid of being alone. Your heart broke for him. This wasn’t what he deserved.

“Can you unbind me?” you asked. “I promise no harm will come to your crew.”

The chains fell to the floor. You knelt before the captain. He refused to meet your eyes. Placing a hand on either side of his face, you lifted his head. His eyes were pleading.

Your lips brushed his. He recoiled at first, not expecting the touch. “Please,” you whispered, “can you trust me?”

He held still. And you kissed him once more. He responded this time yet was still hesitant to touch you. Deeper and deeper, you ran your fingers through his disheveled curls. He moaned into your mouth, and your lips curled against his.

He finally pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours as he panted and gasped for air.

You let out an undignified yelp as he scooped you into his arms and laid you on the bed. “I feel… What did you do?” He looked at his hands, dark scarred skin in the place of monstrous claws.

“I lifted the curse.”

He stared at you in disbelief, grinning widely. “You could have done it all along? You did do it! I’m… How can I thank you?”

It warmed you to see him so overjoyed. You remembered the satisfaction of helping out heroes a millennium before.

He was handsome, no longer a shadowy monster. Dark, scarred skin. Full lips. Curly black hair that fell across his forehead. He was still broad, huge even for a man, but now it was flesh and muscle under the thin fabric of his shirt.

The captain was kissing you again, so deeply and with so much passion. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“It’s wonderful.”

He pushed aside the fabric of your dress, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You trailed your hands over his arms and shoulders, feeling the strength and muscle from years of living aboard a ship.

Clothes fell to the floor and soon the both of you were bare. You admired the captain’s newfound mortal body. Every scar, every mark, every dip and curve. He shuddered and gasped at each touch, not used to the sensation after so many years under the curse. You let him pin you down and ravish you. He couldn’t get enough.

You finally pushed him away, pulling him by the hair from between your thighs. “You’re mortal now,” you reminded him. “You need to rest.”

“Will you still be here when I wake?” he asked.

“I’ll stay here with you.” You opened your arms. He pulled you in close. You listened as his heartbeat slowed and his breathing evened. The ship rocked and creaked on the waves, moonlight streaming in through the glass windows.

#gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes/reader #reaper/reader #reaper x reader #reaper overwatch #pirate au #requests #request fic #fanfiction requests #overwatch fanfic

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starryjealousy · 2 years

Text

Eye For an Eye

Title: Eye For an Eye Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Pairing: Thancred/female Warrior of Light Rating: G Warnings: None Summary: It’s never a good idea to let one's guard down.

"No...not after everything," Fordola pants out angrily, her eyes brilliant with the rage that's practically radiating off of her, dragging herself to her feet and raising her blade once more with trembling arms. "I cannot lose...I will not!"

Looking far less than impressed, Lyse squares her shoulders and stares Fordola down, almost as if taunting her to keep trying. "Oh, but you will - without your tricks, you're nothing," she counters, her fingers curling slightly like she's dying to punch Fordola across the room, and I'm silently a little impressed by her restraint when she doesn't. "Conrad, Meffrid, your own comrades...I should kill you here and now for what you did! But," she balls her hands into tight fists, then takes a deep breath and forces them to unclench, though the cold fury in her voice lessens not a whit. "There's no place for that kind of justice here. Not in my Ala Mhigo."

A strange sound escapes Fordola, some mixture of a disbelieving snort and a sarcastic laugh, and she takes a step forward, though the effort of moving sends her to one knee again from pure exhaustion. "Oh, how very bloody noble of you," she sneers, raises her head to glare daggers at Lyse, lips twitching like she's trying very hard not to spit on the floor at our feet out of pure disdain. "You'll pardon me my sins, will you? After you and your 'freedom fighters' come and tear down everything we've worked so hard to build? We were fighting for our people's freedom!" Struggling upright once more, she inhales deeply, giving her head a hard shake in yet another futile attempt to fight off the lingering effects of the aetheric siphon. "Not that I'd expect you to understand that--"

"You're slaves to a tyrant," Lyse interrupts stiffly, turns her back to Fordola, clearly fighting the urge to punch her again. "There's no freedom in that."

Fordola's eyes widen, then narrow, and I don't even realise she's about to move until she does, somehow finding the strength to leap forward and aim her blade at Lyse's back.

I don't think - I can't, I just react, a cry of alarm escaping me as I throw myself between them, never mind the several ilms of cold, battle-scarred steel now coming directly at my face too quickly for me to raise my own weapon and deflect it. "Lyse--"

White-hot agony takes me the next moment as the blade bites into my flesh, and my cry this time is wordless, underscored by Lyse's shocked scream.

I can't rightly even guess what happens then; the next thing I know with any semblance of coherency is warm, strong arms holding me, the dizzying tingle of healing magic washing over me, and it's so hard to open my eyes but I struggle to do it nonetheless, blurred vision slowly coming into just enough semblance of focus on one side to make out Thancred and Alphinaud's panicked expressions overhead. (That explains it then - Thancred must have caught me when I fell, and Alphinaud has been working on - how bad is it, anyway, I can't seem to raise my hand to feel for myself--) "Ow," I manage, hardly more than a raspy breath, but it's worth the effort to see the relief that floods their faces. "That was...not the smartest thing...I've ever done."

"Not even close," Thancred agrees a little tightly, but I know him well enough to know he isn't actually angry, and the way he brushes my cheek with a shaking hand would prove it even if I did think otherwise. "Gods above, Y'senia, I thought the worst when she struck you - <em>please</em> refrain from giving all the rest of us heart attacks, won't you?"

"But...Lyse--" I struggle to sit upright, or to at least turn my head, but I'm far too weak for the former and Thancred's fingers clasp my chin tightly enough to prevent the latter, and I give up without bothering to protest because even that much effort has my head spinning violently. "Is...is she..."

Thancred nods, briefly turns his own head, presumably glancing in Lyse's direction. "She is unharmed - thanks to you, I must grudgingly admit - but you, on the other hand..." his fingers release my chin, trace slowly up my cheek to free a large section of hair from where it's apparently stuck to my skin, and the faint disquiet in the back of my mind is growing slowly louder as the strands come loose. "I expect you've come to realise that faces make terrible shields and won't be doing that again. Now. How many fingers am I holding up - without turning your head?"

"Er," I say unthinkingly, because if I'm perfectly honest, I had no idea he was holding any fingers up at all - and that disquiet's now becoming a clamour of alarm, the world feeling as if it's just fallen out from underneath me and Thancred's arms are now the only thing keeping me from plummeting into nothingness along with it. "This is...a trick question, right?"

Alphinaud stifles a despairing sound, and I promptly wish I hadn't asked.

Thancred curses quietly, pushes me abruptly into Alphinaud's arms (surprising the both of us, from the way Alphinaud tenses even as he takes hold of me) and reaches up behind his head; I can't even honestly tell what he's doing at first, a little too disoriented from the sudden movement and from trying to come to terms with everything, and it's not until a length of cloth still warm with lingering body heat wraps across the injured side of my face that his intentions come clear. "This will have to do for the moment," he says, pushes my hair aside so the bandana lies flat and ties the ends firmly off, tilting my chin up again to look intently at me for a long moment before nodding slowly once. "We can't rule out the possibility that it's simply too dark in here, or that your vision might return once you get moving and your aether stabilises again - and it can't hurt anything, at the very least, to keep it covered until we know for sure whether you can tolerate brighter light or not. Do you think you can stand?"

"...I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" Forcing the slightest of humourless smiles, I take a deep breath and valiantly fight back the dizziness, managing to reach up enough to grip at his forearms tightly and using that support to stagger to my feet - it's infuriating, really, how weak I feel, and I'm determined not to look any more so than I absolutely have to, even if it means I fall flat on my face for about a week and a half once we're to safety. "I'll be fine. Krile - see to Krile. Then we can get out of here."

He looks like he wants to protest, but at a pointed look from Thancred, Alphinaud glances briefly downward before nodding reluctantly, turning to head for the capsules further in. "...Very well. Just don't push yourself."

"You seem to assume I would let her, even if she tried," Thancred retorts after Alphinaud's retreating back, and I can't hold back a breathy snort, never mind that my head spins again at even that much and I'm forced to tighten my grip in order to even stay on my feet. This is completely ridiculous, I can't understand why I'm still so off balance - and I don't even get very much time to dwell on that bit of annoyance before there's an arm round my shoulders and another beneath my legs and I'm being most unceremoniously lifted, letting out an indignant squawk at the suddenness of it, starting to draw breath to protest but letting the words die unspoken on my lips when he looks down at me with an uncharacteristic seriousness. "I do not want to hear a single word of argument out of you. Let me do this."

"I," I start, then let my head settle against his shoulder obediently, any urge to resist well and truly gone at that expression. "...This is embarrassing, you know."

"That only means you're still here to be embarrassed at it." Thancred hesitates for a moment, looking like he's trying to decide what to say, and after a glance around that I'd almost swear is downright nervous, he looks down at my face again and exhales slowly, shakily, letting his voice drop to a near-inaudible volume. "...Do you have any idea how much you scared all of us? When I saw you fall, when I saw the blood - I was certain we were - certain I was going to lose you. In all my life, I cannot remember ever being so terrified..." he closes his eyes tightly, bows his head a little, and I'm almost certain I can feel my heart shattering into a thousand little guilty pieces as I bring a shaking hand up to cup his cheek as best I can. "If you ever do something that utterly reckless again, Senia, I - I haven't the slightest clue what I'll do, but rest assured, it will not be pretty."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my throat tight, because really, what else can I say when he's being so open, so vulnerable, even calling me by the familiar form of my name that he's only ever spoken before in the midst of passion? "I-I only..."

"...I know. I know. I'm not...angry with you." Taking a deep breath, Thancred opens his eyes again, the corner of his mouth tugging briefly into what might have wanted to be a wry smile someday. "As much as I might like to be, that's hardly what either one of us needs right now."

I make a sound that's somewhere in between a laugh and a sob, press my hand to his cheek a little more firmly for a moment and then let it drop, deciding a subject change is probably in order. "...Lyse is all right, you said?"

"Not a scratch on her," Thancred nods, clearly just as willing to drop the uncomfortable subject as I am, which is frankly relieving. "In retrospect, I suppose it might be a bit amusing that the very instant you hit the ground, she drop-kicked Fordola across the room. Honestly, that might be the fastest I have ever seen her move in all the time we've been working together, and I have certainly seen - no, never mind that. She would be furious with me were I to start regaling you with tales of the past--"

"I can hear you, you know," Lyse's unamused voice comes from across the room, and it's all I can do not to start laughing.

"You see why I prefer to keep my mouth shut," Thancred says in a stage whisper, his own expression settling into genuine amusement, and I do snort helpless laughter at that, feeling a little more at ease now. "There, that's much better - looking so serious does not suit you in the least. You seem more alert as well, so I can only assume the effects of the aetheric disturbance have well and truly worn off. I still have no intentions of putting you down, however, no matter how much you might attempt to protest."

"You're lucky I'm too tired to protest." I do mean it as a joke, but it's also not untrue, my head settling back against his shoulder as Alphinaud rejoins us, holding protectively tight to a very dazed-looking Krile. "What of Fordola? What do you intend to do with her?"

"I'm taking her back with us," Lyse responds, followed by a grunt of effort that is presumably her hauling a most recalcitrant Fordola upright. "Alive. She's going to answer for what she's done, once her head stops ringing from making friends with my boot."

Fordola snorts, and though she sounds disoriented - presumably from the aforementioned drop-kicking - her voice is still surprisingly steady. "Listen to you, talking like you've already won. Zenos is going to tear you apart. He commands a power echoing that of the eikons - a power even you cannot stand against."

I don't even have to look to know Lyse is frowning; it's echoed in her tone. "What are you talking about?"

"The hunt, you stupid cow - I'm talking about the hunt!" Fordola barks a laugh, sharp and bitter. "He said you'd come, and here you are, his willing prey. You and your friends are dead - just like mine. And all our misery, all our sacrifice...it was all for naught!"

"No," Lyse tells her firmly, voice steely and cold. "You're going to live long enough to see us win our freedom. I promise you that."

"May I live a thousand years," Fordola mutters, with a pained groan as Lyse manhandles her into my field of vision, just close enough that I can see she's glaring daggers at me like she's upset I didn't have the decency to give up and die.

Thancred sighs, shakes his head, and then he's turning to head for the exit, cradling me tighter to his chest as if to protect me from the ferocity of that glare. "Interrogations can wait until we reach safety. Let us be off."

"Can't we knock her out first?" Alphinaud asks dryly, and when Lyse mutters something that I'd swear was "do not tempt me", I'm forced to bury my face into Thancred's shoulder to stifle my laughter.

#final fantasy xiv #sfw #character: thancred waters #character: warrior of light #character: lyse hext #character: alphinaud leveilleur #character: fordola rem lupis #pairing: thancred x female wol #warning: none

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visionsofus · 3 years

Text

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape

track #3: Rescue my Heart by Liz Longley

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

synopsis: In which Vision arrives to help break the Cap’s team out of Raft prison post-Civil War. Wanda recalls fond memories of the compound and comes to terms with the idea of living on the run.

CW: depiction of imprisonment

The hum of electricity was the only warning that Wanda Maximoff had before fluorescent white lights impaired her vision. For 15 seconds she was effectively blind as her eyes frantically tried to adjust to the harsh lighting. That was the 9th time she had been abruptly awoken in such a way and the panic never lessened.

Her day at Raft prison started the same as every morning that had preceded it, the door to her cage was opened and she was led to the bathroom to freshen up before being returned for a meagre breakfast. Sometimes she would walk past the rest of the team, they all looked just as battered and exhausted as she felt.

Wanda wasn’t let out of her straitjacket for breakfast and was spoon fed whatever mush they deemed nutritious enough for the day from a metal tray. It was a humiliating experience. It was made worse by the drugs they mixed into her meal each morning that were so strong she would fall asleep an hour later and often not be conscious again until the following morning. She supposed it was their way of trying to keep her under control, little did they know that it was only serving to make her angrier, more dangerous. Walking past her bruised teammates each morning filled her with rage, sitting and being spoon fed by a guard filled her with rage, but underlying it all was a sense of hopelessness, an acknowledgement that maybe she deserved to be in here. Clint had been wrong, getting up off her ass hadn’t fixed anything.

Each morning after eating her vibranium glass door was locked once more and Wanda lied back on the stiff bed that took up most of the space in her cell as she waited for the sedatives to kick in.

In the few hours she’d been conscious in the last week she’d mostly spent her time thinking. Wanda was sure that Steve had to have some sort of plan – she knew that he hadn’t been at the compound when they’d all been taken in – so she didn’t trouble herself with obsessing over a plan to get out. That would just make her panic and she didn’t want to let her powers get out of control, not in such an enclosed space as this. In the meantime, she had decided to bide her time and wait for a sign from Steve.

Instead, her thoughts were consumed with what had happened before her imprisonment. Some of the memories were painful but overall, her time at the compound had been pleasant. She was living in a better space than she had most of her life and while the empty place of her twin brother would never be filled… she was starting to heal. Working more on controlling her powers had been by far the best part of her year. The training made her feel strong, it made her want to protect people. Vision had helped a lot with training, he was one of the only ones who would last long in a fight against her, and their sparring practice had always been a great workout. Not for the first time in the last ten days did she cast her mind back to the last time they had fought.

"Don't go easy on me, Vis," Wanda said raising her hands before her and stepping into a defensive stance.

"If I had been 'going easy on you' Captain Rogers wouldn't have made us fight outside this time," Vision replied his cape fluttering in a non-existent breeze. He was right, the last time they had fought in one of the training rooms the roof had almost caved in. So, they had been forced to relocate outside where the only breakables were themselves.

"Physical combat first?" Wanda suggested. "No magic tricks."

"I am not sure that 'magic tricks' is the most suitable-" Vision began waving a hand lightly between them.

"Too slow,” she cut in, lunging forward and grabbing Vision’s arm, kicking his leg out from beneath him. Her leg swung right through him as he phased without hesitation.

Hand to hand combat without the fire power of their respective powers had always been their weak point in training, they had both come to rely so heavily on the magic of the stone that was so intrinsic to both their identities that it was difficult to not depend on it. Nonetheless, they needed to be ready for a situation where close quarter combat meant explosive power wasn’t an option.

Wanda took Vision’s next oppening to try and unbalance his other leg, but he was prepared for the kick this time and managed to dodge. They sparred for what felt like half an hour but in reality was only a few minutes, neither gaining any traction aside form a few hits to the ribs each.

In a desperate attempt to land a blow Wanda side-stepped Vision’s throw, ran for the wall at her back, kicked off it with one well-placed foot (aided in force by a little bit of her power) and launched herself at Vision. She would have landed a significant hit in the chest if he hadn’t turned and caught her just at that moment.

Wanda slammed into him and Vision was left supporting her effortlessly with one hand around her waist, she in turn pressed a steadying hand against his shoulder, immediately aware of how close they were. She was breathing heavily; her hair likely a mess about her face from where it had come loose from the ponytail she had tried to gather it up in. Vision’s eyes were focused wholly on her own, wide and darting across her face and for a moment she was tempted to reach into his mind and feel what was running through it. His mind was sometimes… difficult to navigate, even when he did let her in to communicate.

Vision slowly lowered her to the ground.

“I—” he began but didn’t have the chance to continue because Wanda had pressed her hands against his chest and sent an almighty wave of psionic energy through her palms. Before Vision could continue, he was launched into the air, flipping once before using his own powers to stop himself in mid-air. “I thought you said physical combat?” His brow was furrowed at her trick, but there was something shadowing his eyes beyond that and it made Wanda want to tease him more.

“Oops,” she said and launched herself at him again as he reached the ground. Vision hadn’t expected the fight to continue so Wanda managed to dive cleanly for his waist, hitting his chest with all the force thrown behind her shoulder in an attempt to take him down. It wasn’t a pretty or graceful move, but she’d thought she’d chosen the right moment to catch him sufficiently off guard. He twisted them in mid-air, and they fell to the ground together, his powers softening their landing.

“This is supposed to be a fight, Vis,” Wanda said content to fold her arms in mock disapproval, gazing up at him.

“I know,” he said, and they were close enough she could feel his breath flutter against her face from where he was, holding himself above her. “I’m just using the same cheat techniques of seduction that you’ve been using on me.”

A laugh bubbled up despite the embarrassment that was making her cheeks flush. Perhaps Wanda had teased him too much?

“Is it really cheating if it works?” Wanda asked deciding to push him that little bit further. She lifted one hand to his chin and trailer a single finger down his throat, she could’ve sworn his eyes started to glow a little. He lowered himself a little more until their noses were brushing and right when he closed his eyes she acted.

Taking advantage of his surprised state she lifted her leg and kneed him squarely in his chest, sending forth a second pulse of power. Yet again he flew away, this time so distracted that he fully hit the wall behind them, causing cracks to cobweb out through the concrete.

“That,” Vision said as he floated to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck and rolling his shoulders, “was not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair in love and war.” Wanda shrugged pleasantly, but instinctively reached out to see if hitting the wall had caused any real pain.

“Don’t worry, it’ll take more than a concrete wall to hurt me.”

“Just checking.”

“I told you two to train, not flirt and break the walls,” a clearly grumpy Steve said as he made his way out into the courtyard. A few minutes too late the pair realised that they’d had a small audience looking on from within the compound.

“I have no idea what you’re talk about,” Wanda said crossing her arms and walking over to make her way back inside.

“Yes Captain, what exactly do you mean?” Vision asked, joining in on her denial as the pair went inside.

“Break another wall and you won’t be able to fight each other anymore,” he warned but was smiling in a way that told Wanda he was glad for their progress in training.

“Yeah, but what happens when they can’t take their tension out on each other through training?” Sam whispered to Natasha in a way that made it clear he intended everyone else to hear.

Wanda let herself come back to the unfortunate reality she was now confined to live in. She had been replaying similar memories for the last ten days, Vision was a common feature of the happy memories, but the rest of the team also filled her thoughts. It was something to keep the worse thoughts at bay and her pent-up power in check.

The loud clank of the prison gates surrounding her cage as the guards changed watch startled Wanda slightly. There was always noise here and it had been getting on her nerves for approximately eight and a half days now. Back at the compound her room was soundproof so she could enjoy silence when she needed. It had made it easier to focus on honing her powers and reaching out with her mind to try and feel the other people at the compound. That's not to say that her concentration wasn't often broken by Vision floating through her bedroom wall, usually stopping by for a profound chat about humanity or to ask her to explain human quirks he couldn't find sufficient answers to online.

Wanda missed him. As she lay on the bed waiting to be taken to the bathroom before breakfast, she closed her eyes and let her mind reach out. The noise and light made it difficult to retain focus as she reached further through the walls. She recognised the rest of her teammates minds and brushed over the guard’s minds, not wishing to delve too deep into their thoughts. The effort it took almost made her loose her breath and she let the power go. Telepathy was still a lot easier at closer proximity.

She was about to stand up and try and get a guard’s attention to let her out to the bathroom when she felt her hands begin to tingle within the straitjacket. Something was about to happen. Wanda did her best to get her hair out of her face with her hands bound. Her instincts were all she had to rely on as she turned slowly in a circle within the cage, waiting.

Abruptly, soldiers began yelling and hands flew to their weapons. Half a dozen of the black clad guards ran to her cage, circling around her and assuming a defensive position with their guns raised at the various doors leading out of her enclosure.

"Something wrong?" Wanda asked innocently.

To no surprise, her guards didn’t respond.

Wanda felt her powers rising faintly beneath her skin, calling out to an unknown force.

“Who’s there?” One guard to her left barked gruffly. Her call was answered a moment later as one of the heavy, steel doors was blown to bits. A pipe burst from above and dust fell from the trembling ceiling. A powerful steel beam flew out and struck two of the guards in front of her and they flew across the room. Wanda smiled for the first time in 9 days when she saw the figure that emerged from the dust and rubble.

Two guards made out for Vision, their guns firing but he phased easily avoiding the bullets and grabbed one guard in each hand and threw them to the side. Wanda noted how, despite everything, Vision didn’t cause any unnecessary harm to the people themselves and used only enough force to incapacitate them.

Wanda let her own power grow, feeling the straitjacket begin to strain as the powerful red mist from her hands spread and tore at her restraints. Feeling her power well up like a damn about to break she let out a yell as she tore her arms free of their constraints. The power that exploded forth shattered the cage surrounding her, forcing the remaining guards to dive in order to avoid the flying shards. Two of them made a move to get her but she raised her hands and subdued them, sending them to the ground unconscious as her eyes burned a deep red.

Alarms were blaring now, and the lights appeared to be flickering overhead but no more guards came from the behind the destroyed doors.

Wanda turned in a full circle, expecting another fight but the only one still standing was Vision. He reached for her just as her legs, weakened from the sudden burst of power after 10 days dormant, made to give out from under her.

“Vis,” she said stretching her arm towards him as he stopped her from falling.

“Wanda,” he murmured, the relief emanating from him was clear. He gathered her up into his arms and hefted her against his chest gently, an arm tucked behind her back and one under her knees. "We must go."

“But the others–”she began as Vision rose up from the ground.

“Captain Rogers will see to getting them out safely,” Vision said and shot for the ceiling of the prison, the stone in his head sending a powerful beam through the roof and carving them out an escape route.

Wanda reached out with her hands and used her power to stop any of the rubble hitting them on the way out. The moment they hit the crisp air outside Wanda let loose a cry of relief. She was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. It was likely due to the lack of food and sunlight but perhaps it was also because she finally felt safe for the first time in 9 days. She reached up and wound her arms around Vision's neck, pulling herself into his chest to avoid the harsh wind that was whipping the ocean below into a turmoil.

Wanda pressed one of her palms against Vision and tried to communicate her gratitude. As he flew her away from the prison, she took solace in the stability of his power, the power they both shared.

By the time Vision arrived at the coordinates Captain Rogers had directed him to, Wanda was fast asleep. The safe house was a quaint little thing, far less grand than what any of them had grown accustomed to at the compound. But it was well off the beaten track, down a winding driveway and hidden in a copse of dense trees. Still, Vision remained on guard.

The house was two stories high and distinctly cubic in appearance. Its exterior was simple and seemed more built for durability than aesthetic.

As Vision's feet reached the dewy ground Wanda stirred in his arms.

“Where are we?” She asked sleepily, slowly coming to her senses.

“Somewhere safe,” Vision said as he approached what appeared to be the door of the house. It was a small grey rectangle that blended in with fairly well with the rest of the unattractive building.

“It's ugly,” Wanda noted turning her head to look at the looming grey building.

“We can’t really afford to be picky,” Vision said in amusement before stopping abruptly as the front door opened.

“About damn time,” Natasha Romanov said smiling grimly at the pair who seemed so out of place against the backdrop of the thick forest. "You'd better get inside."

“Natasha,” Vision said nodding his greeting, and the unspoken truce now struck between them, as he passed her in the doorway.

“Vision,” Romanov returned the greeting. “How are you feeling Wanda?”

“I'm tired even though I've been sedated for the last nine days, I'm not hungry even though I haven't eaten a real meal in two weeks, and I feel like being locked in a straitjacket has done terrible things to my joints,” Wanda said looking down at her arms.

“We’ll see to it that you get fixed up,” Natasha said and began leading them through the rest of the house. “It’s not much but it’s better than nothing and we should be able to lay low for a while.”

Each room was simple with the bare minimum incorporated into the cubic design. On the ground floor they walked through a kitchen where a small table was cramped by five chairs, and beyond it was a living room occupied by what looked like a musty couch and a collection of mismatched pillows.

“There's a couple of bedrooms upstairs, I'll go get a first aid kit and see if we can get you hooked up to an IV,” Natasha said gesturing to the staircase they had arrived at and darting off down another corridor.

"You can put me down now," Wanda said looking up at Vision.

"We're almost there now, I might as well carry you the rest of the way," Vision said taking the stairs two at a time. When they reached the top, he ducked through the first doorway they found and into a small bedroom. There was a single bed in the corner, a chair opposite it and a window facing out over the forest they had come in from. Vision looked curiously at the window, marvelling at the way it had been created so that from the outside it appeared there were no windows but those inside still had the ability to monitor their surroundings. The house was effectively a bunker and seemed to be built to withstand a small attack, this helped put him a little more at ease.

Vision set Wanda down on the bed and she sagged against the pillows.

"You shouldn’t have come for me," Wanda said swallowing thickly as she turned on her side so she could see Vision properly as he stood in front of the window.

"I'm only sorry that I didn't come sooner," he said turning to face her. "I’m sorry I let you go. I should have stopped them from taking you."

"No you shouldn't have, you did the right thing," Wanda insisted, doing her best to remain seated despite every bone in her body asking for rest. "Vis you signed the Sokovia Accords, at the moment we're fugitives and if they find us with you…” she trailed off and shivered at the thought of him being caught.

"That is a risk I am willing to take," Vision said firmly, his eyes locked on Wanda's, their gaze only breaking when Natasha entered the room with two IV bags.

"I've never actually hooked someone up to one of these before," Natasha said turning the bag over in her hand as though expecting to find instructions.

"I can do it," Vision said taking them from her.

"Have you done this before?" Wanda asked hesitantly.

"No," Vision replied hooking the IV bag up to a tube and preparing a needle from the first aid kit, "but I understand how it has done and I’ve read about it online."

"Better you than me I suppose,” Natasha asked taking the seat opposite the bed.

"Just don't miss my vein," Wanda grumbled and stretched her bare arm out for Vision.

"What happened while we were locked up?" She asked, wincing slightly as Vision slid the needle into her arm.

Natasha began to describe the events of the last few days. How Tony had broken into the Raft and got information from Sam about Steve and Bucky's location and subsequently got himself beaten to a pulp. Just as Natasha finished updating her there was the sound of boots on the stairs.

"It's ok, it's just the others," Natasha assured them when Wanda and Vision both startled at the sound.

"Well, isn't this a nifty little safe house that you've got going here?" Sam said as he poked his head around the doorframe and stepped into the small room. "Wanda, Vision, thanks for leaving the rest of us behind."

"Enough Sam, without Vision things wouldn't have gone over as smoothly," Steve said clapping the Falcon on the shoulder. Steve was the only other one to enter the room and looked as though he’d spent a few days in Raft with them. His left eyebrow was split along the side and he was sporting bruises and cuts that were clearly healing more quickly than the average human but still looked painful.

"Where's Clint and Scott?" Vision asked, finishing with Wanda's drip and hanging the bag from the metal frame that Natasha had also brought up to allow the fluids to drip down.

"They decided to stay," Steve said, eliciting a sound of surprise from Natasha, "seems that they have been negotiating with the Secretary of State who is willing to allow them to live with their families under house arrest."

"That makes sense," Natasha said nodding thoughtfully. "What about you?"

"I'm not going to serve time for something that wasn't wrong in the first place," Sam said shrugging and leaning against the wall behind him.

"In the meantime, we need a plan," Steve said folding his arms and looking at the small group gathered in the room that was far too cramped for comfort.

"Hmm not sure I feel so good about Vision, still," Sam said shrugging. "Up until last week we were on very different sides."

"I am not here as an Avenger on 'Mr. Stark's side'," Vision said stepping up to Sam and looking him directly in the eyes. "Remember I helped get you out of that prison."

"Come on now guys, that’s enough." Steve said putting a hand on each of their shoulders and pushing them apart. "We have bigger problems."

"What could be bigger than being fugitives?" Wanda asked, meaning it to sound more light-hearted than it ended up coming out.

"For now, we’re safe and that’s what matters, this house seems good enough to lie low until we figure out our next steps,” Natasha said shrugging, looking around at the grey, boxy room.

"Year that won’t be happening, the house is Stark's," Steve said rocking back on his heels, he’d clearly been waiting for the right time to break the news to them.

"What?" Natasha and Wanda exclaimed at the same time.

"Tony knows about this? Why didn't you tell me?"

"He's been acquiring safe houses like this for a couple of years now," Steve replied.

"Talk about paranoia," Wanda muttered.

"You think Tony knows we are here?" Natasha asked standing up to join Vision who had returned to his post, looking out the window.

"I do not believe that Mr Stark's attention is turned in your direction for the time being," Vision spoke up. "But it is possible that this is not the best place for you at the moment."

"Don't worry, we'll be ok staying here for the night but tomorrow you need to move out," Steve said gesturing to Wanda, Sam and Natasha. "You're on the run now, that means avoiding as many people as you can. At the moment we don't have wanted posters plastered across the media, but you can be sure as soon as the press gets word of our escape Ross is going to have them broadcasting everywhere to try and recover us."

"What about me?" Vision asked turning to face Steve.

"You're going back to base, tonight," Steve said firmly.

"I will not leave," Vision replied just as surely.

"Yes, you will, Vis," Wanda said adjusting how she was sitting on the bed. It seemed that already the drip was helping with her energy levels and Vision could see some of the colour returning to her face.

"At the moment, no one has any idea that you have left the compound and it's better if it stays that way," Steve said and gestured to the group before him, "the rest of us are outlaws, but you still have a duty to Tony and the Sokovia Accords."

"I will not leave," Vision repeated.

"He's right Vis," Wanda began reaching for his arm and gripping it tightly.

"I know logically that I have to leave but I don't want to." Vision reluctantly corrected himself gazing intensely at Wanda.

"You have to." She whispered.

The room was quiet for a moment as Vision's mind processed things at a million miles a second. Perhaps he would be of more help from the compound where he was in the know regarding all information surrounding the fugitives before him. Perhaps, as painful as the idea was to him, the best way to keep Wanda from harm would be from a distance.

"Very well,” he sighed, and Wanda's lips turned up in a small, soft smile.

"Good," Steve said folding his arms. "We leave in the morning, we'll go the same way until we reach the border and then I'll split from the group to go for Bucky while you guys continue on. From now on we're going to be doing a lot of running."

"Thank goodness, being locked up in a cage for the last 9 days was deadly boring,” Wanda said cynically.

"Damn Cap," Sam said his sigh tainted with disbelief. "I don’t wanna be the one to say it, but what’s our end goal here?"

"At the moment, stay alive and free. This might be a road that doesn't end for a while, if ever." Steve turned to leave the room. "There's some food in the kitchen downstairs but for the time being you should all get some rest. Vision thank you for your help, it was appreciated." He clapped Vision on the shoulder as he left the room, his footsteps thudding down the stairs again.

"Alright Wilson, let’s get you some food and ice for that nasty bruise," Natasha said guiding Sam from the room and closing the door behind her. Vision was quiet for a moment as he turned back to the window trying to quiet the million and one thoughts running through his head. He was so distracted it took Wanda calling his name twice for him to register.

"Yes sorry."

"I asked if you’re alright?"

"I should be the one asking that," Vision said shaking his head and turning to sit on the edge of Wanda's bed.

"That doesn't mean I can't ask you too," she said curling her legs up beneath her and gazing at him intently.

"I don't want to leave… but I have already caused Mr. Stark more than enough trouble and I fear that if I remain with you, I will only put you at risk."

"What happened back in Germany wasn't your fault Vis, I'm sure Rhodey doesn't blame you," Wanda said reaching out to squeeze his arm and the touch alone helped clear his mind.

"I'll see you again won't I?" Vision asked turning his head towards Wanda. "I have been rather….lonely the last nine days, three hours and 47 minutes."

Wanda smiled and rolled her eyes. "Of course you'll see me again, silly."

"I do not believe I was asking a silly question."

"I promise you'll see me again," Wanda said, serious this time, putting one hand over his and Vision sensed the power beneath her touch and the emotion coursing through her palm. "I'll find a way to communicate with you but for now you have to pretend that you never saw us."

Vision nodded silently and rose, the feeling of Wanda's touch still lingering on the back of his hand.

"Go,” she whispered settling back against the wall again.

Vision didn't see any point in saying goodbye, not when he was so sure that they would be seeing each other again soon. Instead, he settled for something simpler, "Until our next meeting." Before he could lose his nerve, he leant down and brushed his lips against her forehead. Wanda’s breath caught as he did but when he drew back her face was lit with a soft, gentle smile. She watched on in dismay as Vision straightened up, stepped forward, and with a final look at her phased through the wall and out into the world beyond. Wanda turned her eyes to the ceiling waiting for her exhaustion to consume her as Vision sped away, not trusting himself to leave quietly if he hesitated any longer.

They’d see each other again, he was certain of it.

#wandavision #wandavision fanfiction #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #scarletvision #scarlet witch #visionsofusfics

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im-fairly-whitty · 4 years

Text

The Witcher Wolf: In Plain Sight

Two years have passed since Geralt was cursed with the ability to turn into a wolf whenever his medallion is removed, a curse that's turned into a blessing now that he and Jaskier are partners in everything they do.

It's no exception when they discover a Nilfgaardian army bearing down on Cintra, headed straight toward a certain child surprise. With Jaskier's help and Geralt's enchanted medallion they must find a way to get into the palace, make sure Princess Cirilla is safe, and get out with her in tow if needed, regardless of Queen Calanthe's orders.

[Chapter 1: Into the Fire] [Chapter 2: Old Friend] [Chapter 3: Bad Luck] [Chapter 4: So Much for Being Smart] [Chapter 5: Secrets] [Chapter 6: The Beginning of the End] [Chapter 7: Out of Time]

Chapter 8: The End

Normally Jaskier actually wouldn’t have minded all that much if the guards posted outside his cell vanished. Normally it might have simply meant a shift change, or a lazy soldier nipping out to do some errands while still on the clock. Normally it might simply be evidence of an overconfident warden who couldn’t be bothered to cover all his prison’s work shifts.

But tonight wasn’t normal.

Even if Wihelm hadn’t filled Jasker in on the city’s looming disaster it would have been given away by hurried orders being shouted down the hallways an hour ago, evidently every armed man in the castle being called upstairs to fight.

Which must mean that the city really had fallen like Wilhelm had predicted, and that the last stand was happening at that very moment.

Which was why while normally Jaskier would be lazily clanging the bars of his cell and calling out if anyone was there after a full hour of being alone, he instead was now watching through the bars of his cell in silence, straining to hear the distant scraping and shuffling and yelling above. Because if he called out now like he normally would have, he had no way of knowing who exactly it would be that came down the steps to find him.

And judging by the several screams he’d heard in the last few minutes it seemed that the chances of it being someone employed by Wilhelm were becoming increasingly slim.

“Geralt, Geralt, Geralt please.” Jaskier muttered to himself. His knuckles white with how tightly he was gripping the bars of his cell.

He couldn’t help idly running his fingertips over the door’s lock despite having spent countless hours already trying to get it open with what few resources he had. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this cell until someone let him out.

Jaskier jolted as he heard a commotion in the distance followed by the thundering of heavy boots down the stairway accompanied by shouted snatches of Nilfgaardian echoing down the stone corridor.

He darted back from the cell door, pressing himself into the dark corner of his cell, heartbeat dangerously fast as his breathing became shallow and sweat broke out across his forehead. The enemy was here, in the castle. How many Cintrians had been killed for them to now be storming the dungeon of all places? Was Geralt dead? Surely Wilhelm was. Where was Cirilla?

“I don’t see any guards left down here, they really were using every scrap they had.” A voice said in Nilfgaardian with an ugly chuckle, making Jaskier jump with how close to the door of his cell it was.

“They left the keys and everything.” Said a second voice gleefully, accompanied by the jangling of what was doubtlessly said keys. “Why don’t we see what kinds they have locked up down here? See if there’s any enemies of the Eternal Flame who need purifying, I’m sure there are.”

Jaskier tried desperately to keep his breathing quiet, hoping against hope that they might skip his cell if it seemed like there wasn’t anyone inside.

He flinched as something thumped the door of his cell, the lock rattling.

“You realize we’re going to have to find the key to every ploughing door if we do.” Said the first voice to the clattering of metal, as if they were flipping through a large key ring.

“Try the fancy one.” The second voice suggested. “Fancy key for a fancy cell. Must have something really good inside, I bet-”

The voice cut off in a gurgling cry that Jaskier recognized as the sound of a sword being shoved through a throat, followed by a second yell that turned into a pained scream and a...sizzling? Jaskier’s heart rate rabbited as the acrid stench of seared skin reached his nose, making his stomach flip.

He held desperately still in the following moment of silence.

“Jaskier, it’s Wilhelm, I’m opening the cell and I’d appreciate it very much if you didn’t attack me as I let you out.” Wilhelm’s voice said.

“Well, if you insist.” Jaskier said, voice cracking in relief as his dread lessened somewhat. Relief that Wilhelm was still alive and had saved him from becoming a Nilfgaardian plaything, remaining dread that it wasn’t Geralt who had come for him.

He moved as the door swung open to reveal his old friend, looking far more tired but still more put together than Jaskier would have expected. In the spymaster’s hand was a sword with runes down the blade that glowed a fiery orange. He didn’t know how many men Wilhelm had to fight to reach him in the dungeon, but judging by the red bruise across his jaw and the blood Jaskier glimpsed on the spymaster’s teeth when he spoke it hadn’t been none.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone but a Witcher wield a sword with igni runestones in it before.” Jaskier said faintly, going easily into the half hug the man pulled him into.

“You learn a few things when you trade international secrets for a living.” Wilhelm said, releasing him after a moment of checking him over for harm. “Geralt and Ciri are meeting us at the back gates, he has the medallion and all your things.” He stooped to pull the sword from the hand of one of the fallen soldiers whose armor was still smoking slightly. “Take this. Keep at my back with your blade up and we have a chance of escaping if we keep to the servant’s passages.”

Jaskier swallowed as he hefted the unfamiliar weapon. The courtly sword training in his youth and subsequent years of adventuring with Geralt meant he was no stranger to the blade, even if he preferred leaving it to Geralt whenever he could. He’d do anything though if it meant getting back to his witcher.

“Lead the way.” Jaskier said, nodding and keeping right behind Wilhelm as they started up the stairway together, moving toward the smell of smoke and cries of the wounded and dying.

***

“Where are you and Geralt planning on taking the princess after this?” Wilhelm asked two long flights of stairs, three hallways, and three dead Nilfgaardians later.

He was panting lightly and whispering as the two of them crowded into the deep shadow of a nook, waiting for a squad of enemy soldiers to pass them in the hallway. The soldiers in the dungeon had evidently wandered from the main group as they’d had little trouble making their way through the castle at first, but the closer they got to the back gate the more they came across and in bigger numbers, forcing them to slow down and dive into hiding places for tortuous moments of bated breath waiting.

“Kaer Morhen.” Jaskier breathed back, barely even sure if Wilhelm could hear him over the clanking of metal shod boots on stone nearby. “It’s the old witcher keep in the Morhen mountains, Geralt winters there, it will be safe.”

“Good.” Wilhelm whispered back, his arm gripping Jaskier’s just a bit tighter as they heard the sound of something crashing in the far distance. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard stories. It’s a defensible position and one few people even know the existence of. You could lay low there the entire war and not be discovered if you played your cards right.”

“Wilhelm, how are we going to get to the back gate?” Jaskier asked, the churning in his gut all consuming now as he watched his friend pretending not to favor his side. He stole a careful glance around the corner before ducking back. “There’s a whole group of them in front of the stairs and they don’t look like they’re moving anytime soon.”

Wilhelm tipped his head back against the stone wall for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before opening his eyes and looking at Jaskier with a ghost of a smile. “I’ve got one last trick up my sleeve, seems like it’s finally time to use it.”

“What kind of trick is it exactly?” Jaskier whispered, unsure why he did not at all like the sound of it.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a witch?” Wilhelm whispered back, rolling up his sleeves.

“If you ever did it was while we were both drunk enough to forget it immediately.” Jaskier said, now very concerned. “What does that have to do with us?”

“She specialized in fire magic.” Wilhelm said, his grip on his sword tightening. Jaskier’s eyes widened as thin lines of orange light crept down the spymaster’s arms, as if his veins were being filled with the same igni magic glowing from the runes of his sword. “I learned a few things from her, even if I never used them.” Wilhelm said, his whisper sounding rather thin as he gritted his teeth. “It’s how I can wield an igni blade without danger.”

“Wilhelm stop this immediately, it’s hurting you.” Jaskier snapped in panic, knowing firsthand how dangerous wielding unpracticed magic could be.

“Listen to me, I won’t have time to repeat myself.” Wilhelm said, suddenly intense as he locked eyes with Jaskier. In the close darkness of their hiding place Jaskier almost thought he could see sparks in the spymaster’s eyes as the temperature of the air around them began to climb steeply. “I promised your wolf I’d get you out and this is our only option left. I am going to rush the soldiers with as much power as I can summon and distract them away from the stairs. While they are distracted you are going to get past them, up the stairs, and through the final corridors to the back gates. There is no other option and no valid arguments you can give me because I’ve already started- ah.”

Wilhelm hissed, doubling over a bit as his grip on the sword became painfully tight, the chaos in his veins feeding into the sword which was now leaking bits of what looked like liquid flame onto the stone floor. Jaskier tried to move toward him but was buffeted back by a wave of fierce heat.

“I’ve already started summoning magic and I don’t actually know how to stop it,” Wilhelm said, rushing to get the words out and looking up at Jaskier with a painful wry grin. “Meaning that if you don’t do as I say immediately and escape when I give you the chance, then you will make my sacrifice in vain. And you wouldn’t want that would you?”

“You bastard.” Jaskier said, voice shaking as he realized how exactly Wilhelm had backed him into a corner, forcing him to accept his suicidal plan without chance for argument. A well-played checkmate if Jaskier ever saw one. “You’ll die, Wilhelm.”

“Quite likely. Truthfully I have no idea exactly what this will do to me, assuming I survive Nilfgaardian steel.” Wilhelm coughed, his smile showing the blood in his teeth. There were definitely sparks in his eyes now and the fiery light was creeping up the veins in his neck. “But a captain always goes down with his ship. You’ve got plenty of sailing left to do, make sure Princess Cirilla lives or all of this is in vain.”

There were too many things that Jaskier wanted to say in that moment, but there was no time to decide between them. He couldn’t even hug Wilhelm, who was now surrounded by the scent of scorched cloth. The spymaster nodded to him with one last smile, and then turned to step out of their hiding place and into the hallway, in plain sight of the group of soldiers.

“Hello you lot!” Wilhelm called, sounding almost cheerful as he raised his sword, which burst into flame, casting sharp flickering shadows all down the hallway. “Heard you like fire, care to try a bit of mine?”

For a moment--the moment when unbearable heat flooded the hallway, the moment that Nilfgaardian curses echoed through the air and the clank of armor erupted as all the troops within sight of Wilhelm charged him--Jaskier nearly froze. He nearly stayed pressed against the wall, watching in horror as his old friend gave himself over to a fiery chaos he barely understood in order to give him a fighting chance, a beacon of living flame that charged down the hallway to meet the soldiers head on.

But he didn’t, turning and running down the hallway now cleared of enemies, throwing himself up the stairway as he scrambled to reach the landing above them that would lead to escape.

“Give your wolf my regards!” Wilhelm’s voice echoed after him, followed by a roar of flame and the sickening ringing clash of steel on steel.

Every time Jaskier blinked he could see the after-image of Wilhelm burned into his vision, a ghostly image that slowly faded as he scrambled higher up the stone steps, unsure whether he was out of breath from fear or horror or grief as he climbed.

Because he couldn’t turn back, he couldn’t turn back or everything Wilhelm had done for them would be to waste. And so Jaskier crushed down his grief and fear under his adrenaline and ran down the hall once he reached the end of the stairs, forcing himself not to think at all as he pushed all his energy into moving instead.

He had to escape the palace, he had to get to the back gates, he had to get out of the city and pray that Geralt and Cirilla had somehow survived as well. And so he ran.

He ran, and ran and ran.

***

It must have only taken Jaskier a matter of minutes to scale the stairway and wind his way down a series of hallways that led to the back gate, but by the time he finally emerged into the night air he felt like he’d aged several years.

Geralt and the others were nowhere to be seen, which didn’t surprise Jaskier all too much despite the heavy pit it set in his stomach. With all the sneaking they’d had to do of course he’d missed the rendezvous, and if he’d been able to he would have commanded Geralt to get Cirilla to safety without him anyway had he known how bad things already were. This city was no place for a child.

It was no longer a place for anyone.

He adjusted his sweaty grip on his sword as he breathed in a lungful of the smoky midnight air, looking at the havok around him in what was left of the castle courtyard. Carts overturned. Dead horses and riders scattered across the grounds. The castle walls lit by the dreadful light of the flames beyond that seemed to be swallowing the city of Cintra whole.

He knew he should move, should already be ducked into the safety of shadow, but Jaskier felt pinned in place by the awful sight. By the sound and heat of the roaring flame as a city fell around him, the stench of death heavy in the air as screams, the shriek of metal on metal reverberated through the night.

And here he was, utterly alone and unarmored in the midst of it, with a stranger’s blade in his hand and no escape or friendly face to be found that hadn’t already been killed.

Cintra had fallen utterly into the hell of the eternal flame.

A group of Nilfgaardian soldiers came around the corner, spotting him immediately. Jaskier felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him as he dazedly saw the flickering light of the ablaze city glinting off their black winged helmets.

“Another sacrifice for the eternal flame!” One of the soldiers shouted with malicious glee, advancing on Jaskier, his companions moving to cut off all his chance of escape.

Jaskier gripped his sword with both hands as he heaved it up, already knowing he had no chance at all of defeating five men on his own, but already committed to putting up as much of a fight as he was able.

There was an unexpected strangled shout and Jaskier flinched as two of the men keeled forward, felled by a single sword stroke from behind. The other three spun to face their attacker, but a blade moving almost faster than the human eye could track dropped them all to the dirt in quick order, ending the fight before it even had the chance to begin.

The soldiers' fall revealed the panting Witcher standing behind them, his teeth bared in a snarl and his eyes utterly black with cat.

“Geralt!” Jaskier choked, dropping his sword to the dirt as he threw himself at the man.

Geralt caught Jaskier with one arm, holding onto him fiercely as the bard clung to him while still keeping his sword at the ready in his other hand. Jaskier felt an icy-hot shivery feeling pass over them as Geralt automatically draped a protective quen shield over them both, likely not even realizing he’d done it.

“Are you alright?” Geralt demanded, quickly pulling them deeper into the shadows of the battlement and out of sight of any more wandering soldiers. A protective growl underlined his words as the Witcher scented Jaskier, doubtlessly searching him for any pain or wounds underneath the thick scent of fear and relief that was sure to be there.

“Thanks to you.” Jaskier said shakily, burying his face against Geralt’s chest as a stray tear of relief escaped down his cheek. “Even I’ll admit that one against five isn’t a very fair fight after a week sitting on a cot. I-I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, I thought you’d already gotten Ciri out of the city and-”

“I’m here now,” Geralt said, quickly kissing the top of Jaskier’s head while still keeping a wary eye on the mayhem of the courtyard beyond them. “I got Mousesack and Ciri out beyond the city wall before coming back for you. Where’s the spymaster? He said he’d meet us at the gate.”

“He...ah...well you see...” Jaskier’s voice kept breaking as he tried to explain, likely telling Geralt everything he needed to know.

“Let’s get out of this blasted city.” Geralt said, his voice softening just a bit as he took Jaskier’s hand in his, gripping it through his thick leather glove. “There’s nothing left here but monsters and ghosts.”

“Please let’s.” Jaskier said, taking a shaky breath and picking up his sword again.

“Stay close, stay quiet.” Geralt said. “We’re going to dart to that burning wagon, behind the stables there, and then it’s a straight shot to the back of the city. We’ll drop down into the sewers and it’ll spit us out on the other side of the wall into the forests where Roach is waiting. Ready?”

Jaskier squeezed his hand back in response, bits of ash settling on his dark hair and eyelashes.

“Then let’s move.” Geralt said.

He looked around one last time before pulling them into a low sprint through the burning wreckage that had once been the royal courtyard of Cintra.

***

Geralt was half carrying Jaskier by the time they finally reached the clearing two miles away from the city wall. The cat elixir had worn off sometime after they’d emerged from the sewers, returning the night to its muted dark colors around them rather than the harsh silvery shades the potion usually reduced the night to.

Geralt tried to set the panting bard down, but Jaskier refused to loosen his grip on the front of his shirt, trembling slightly as he fought for breath.

“We’re safe Jaskier, we’re out.” Geralt said quietly, letting his sword drop to the grass. “We need to keep moving soon but for now just breathe, alright love?”

He tugged off his stained leather gloves, dropping them by the sword and then running his hands up and down Jaskier’s back soothingly. He gently tucked his face into the crook of the bard’s neck, re-memorizing the familiar scent after days of its absence.

“Yes, y-yes.” Jaskier said, clearly trying very hard to get his breathing under control again as he shook. He wrapped his arms tightly around Geralt’s neck and buried his face in long silver hair. “And Cirilla? Is she safe?”

Geralt looked around the clearing, scenting the air. In the crisp quiet night the smell of a hard ridden horse passing through was easy to pick out, as was the trail of a worried man and a frightened girl. He brought two fingers to his mouth and gave a sharp blast of a whistle, letting the noise hang in the night air for a long minute.

He smiled as his Witcher hearing caught the faintest whinnying reply on the breeze from the west and he gave a quick second whistle to help Roach return to them from her days of solo wanderings. In a few minutes the mare would reappear and they could be on their way.

“They came through here very recently.” Geralt confirmed, feeling a weight lift from his chest. “And I don’t smell anyone else, meaning they’re safe and we’ll be able to catch up to them quickly enough when Roach gets to us.” Geralt looked back to Jaskier, tipping his chin up enough to kiss him softly. “We did it, we got her out, destiny was on our side. We’re going to be alright.”

The first kiss was soft, but the second was anything but as Jaskier wound his fingers into Geralt’s hair, chasing his kisses with a rising edge of desperation that made them both lose their breath again just when they’d gotten it back. Geralt carefully sat in the grass, pulling Jaskier down into his lap with him in an effort to get them both off their feet for what little time they could linger. He pulled his bard close against his chest as they kissed and touched, both reassuring themselves that the other was really there and in one piece after being apart.

“Don’t you ever wander off in a marketplace again.” Jaskier hissed between kisses, tears freely tracking down his face. “Had to sit alone in a stupid cell all week, it was dreadfully boring.”

“I thought I was going to go mad not knowing where you were.” Geralt hummed, softly biting at Jaskier’s lower lip. “The one time I caught a whiff of your scent off the spymaster, Mousesack had to pull me back from ripping two guards’ throats out trying to follow it. You seem healthy, you were treated alright?”

“Wilhelm is...was....we’ve been friends a long time.” Jaskier said, a shadow passing over his face as he squeezed his eyes shut against his tears.

Geralt grimaced and tucked him closer to his chest, deciding not to ask him to speak of whatever it was that had happened until he was ready. Geralt might have hated the spymaster for what he’d done to help Queen Calanthe delay their escape, but clearly Jaskier didn’t feel the same about the man.

“I think I’m going to need a holiday after this.” Jaskier said quietly, letting Geralt hold him. “Let’s not do something like this again for a long, long time Geralt.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least a year.” Geralt promised, rubbing Jaskier’s back again. “We’ll catch up to Ciri and Mousesack and then it’s straight to Kaer Morhen. Once we reach the mountains we’ll be safe, we can rest there. We can plan what to do with Ciri now that...well, now that we have her.”

“I never did think I’d be a father.” Jaskier chuckled weakly, wiping at his eyes. “I suppose we aren’t the first parents to ever have a child unexpectedly though, we’ll manage. I’m very much looking forward to meeting your family and seeing your keep after hearing about it for two decades, even if I plan on sleeping for an entire month once we arrive.”

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.” Geralt said, looking up as a familiar mare made her way into the clearing, nickering at the sight of them. He kissed Jaskier’s forehead, brushing his thumbs across his cheekbones. “We’re going to be riding hard so get whatever you need in or out of the packs while I saddle Roach.”

Jaskier kissed the corner of Geralt’s mouth before reluctantly letting him stand. He looked up as Geralt moved to their stashed things and started shifting away the dead branches that had been hiding their packs for the last few days.

“You haven’t been back home since the medallion curse, have you Geralt?” Jaskier asked. “That’s what, two years now? Have you told any of your family about it?”

“I haven’t.” Geralt said, frowning as he hefted Roach’s saddle, brushing twigs off before he set it on the mare’s back. “Haven’t seen Eskel or Lambert or Vesemir in ages and it never seemed like the kind of thing to write in a letter. Not when we were still getting used to it ourselves.”

“So it’s only us that know about it still?” Jaskier asked. “Well, Wilhelm knows...knew...if he helped you change back.”

“Ciri and Mousesack both know.” Geralt said, pulling Roach’s bridle over her head and strapping it into place once he’d finished with the saddle. “Ciri should know, that was always going to happen if we got her. Mousesack sniffed me out the instant we saw each other, and he was able to help me this week because of it.”

“Well it’ll make traveling easier without trying to hide that from the others.” Jaskier nodded, pushing himself to his feet as Geralt finished the saddling. “Do you think anyone knows the princess escaped?”

“There will be no way of knowing until they catch up with us.” Geralt said grimly, handing Jaskier a water canteen. “Which is why we have to assume the worst and keep moving. Roach is fresh, if we ride hard we can catch up to the others and keep to the wilderness until we reach the mountains. This is everything, are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be.” Jaskier said, wiping his mouth as he handed the canteen back to Geralt. He gave the Witcher a tired little smile as he took his face in his hands and gave Geralt a soft kiss. “I’m so happy to see you again, darling, you have no idea.”

Geralt stole a second kiss with a smile, nuzzling the side of Jaskier’s head. “The sooner we get to the keep, the sooner I can really show you how much I missed you.”

“Then by all means let’s get moving.” Jaskier said with the closest thing to a grin that he could muster, heaving himself up into Roach’s saddle.

Geralt tested a couple last straps on the saddle bag before pulling himself up into the saddle behind Jaskier. Despite everything, he felt a sense of relief simply at having the warmth of Jaskier’s back against his chest again.

The road to Kaher Morhen was always a dangerous one, it would have even more perils with the empire searching for their scent, but at least they’d survived this particular night of horrors and were on their way to safety.

He took the reins and pushed Roach into a trot with a click of his tongue, steering them away from Cintra, into the night, and after the scent of their child surprise ahead of them.

He shifted to hold the reins in one hand, wrapping his other arm securely around Jaskier.

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

*Five minutes later* "GERALT I FORGOT MY LUTE WE HAVE TO GO BACK."

Good thing Mousesack got it so Geralt doesn't have to wrestle his bard back onto Roach, lutes aren't cheap you know.

***

Thank you so much for reading this installment of the Witcher Wolf series! Do I have plans to write more I hear you ask, (some of you have in fact asked) and the answer is yes I think so, because I am a helpless slave to my uncontrollable creative whims!

As you may recall this installment was the result of me asking if you the readers had any witcher wolf prompts, in response to which I received a slew of excellent prompts and suggestions. The idea was to take a few at a time and roll them into charming little drabbles and oneshots, so of course I instead went ahead and wrote an eight chapter fic based on one prompt instead.

That said I do love the other prompts in my inbox and have two more installments in mind for them combining most of them. One I think will be another multichapter about the crew's journey to Kaer Morhen, settling into the keep with the other witchers, and meeting up with Yennifer. Much soft good family times in that one. The second is a tense oneshot that I might end up writing in the middle of the softer one since I just finished off a heavier angst story.

That's the tentative plan, but again we all know I'm riding a creative chariot pulled by squirrels, so all bets are off regarding where I actually end up at the end of the day.

TL;DR - Thanks for reading, this series will continue in some form though as always there are no exact guarantees on when or what, so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for your lovely comments as they are what feed my creativity and motivation!

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #geraskier #the witcher wolf #my writing #wit writes

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

What Happens After Midnight

Summary: You normally spent every year trying to avoid your relatives at the annual NYE’s party. But with a twist in fate, you would meet someone who would change your viewpoint of the last hours of each year completely.

Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x reader

Prompt: Fake!Boyfriend/Fake!Girlfriend AU

Genre: fake boyfriend au / fluff

Warnings: typical cliché fairytale talk that I like to do a little too much!

A/N: this is part of the @kwritersworld Christmas Prompt Event. I chose to do mine for a New Years Eve scenario so hopefully that still works! This is the last fiction of 2019, thank you everyone for a fantastic fiction-filled year!

Word count: 4014

Letting out an anxious breath, you sidestepped through a gap your Aunt Marcie hadn’t overtaken yet, her voice booming around for all those who wanted to hear about her year in business for the fourth time this evening.

You didn’t like parties at the best of times, but the end of year party was the one you despised the most.

As a family, you all opted to spend Christmas in your close-knit units, meaning the festive day was quiet and cheerful most of the time. You liked this part of the tradition, knowing you could stay in your Christmas pyjamas all day until helping in the kitchen with dinner. Your family never really did much and you loved that. You could be comfortable and not worry about impressing anyone.

New Year’s Eve was an entirely different story. Your whole family would get together and host a hall where friends, family and even colleagues were welcome to join. It was messy in your opinion, no true rhyme or reason. Family would catch up, judgements would be made, competing over who had the most successful year. Friends would attempt to get involved and you had no idea why the work colleagues came. Most of the time they would just hang out together by the bar, not participating in the antics of your family.

You did love some of your family but it was just too much socialising for an introvert like you. If you hadn’t been expected to attend as a family member each year, you would be at home, nestled in front of the TV watching a movie on Netflix and no doubt be asleep well before the New Year even rang in.

Instead, you were skirting through crowds in attempts to remain unseen, holding your breath and making rounds of the room constantly, lessening the chance of being caught by anyone. There was only a little over half an hour left until the clock hit twelve and finally then it would be acceptable to escape. You couldn’t exactly exclaim to have a headache like last year. It was written within the family newsletter that you had left early for little reason and you would at least last until then to remain out of the gossip lines of the party write up this year.

But luck would not grant you an easy passage all night long. You had avoided your Uncle Matt’s magic tricks that hadn’t changed over twenty years and ducked out of sight from your cousin Melissa’s constant gushing over her recent engagement.

There was, however, no way to escape your cousin Joshua. You should have known better and when he rocked up in front of you, it took all your effort to not openly roll your eyes or backtrack in your step. “Well, well, well. I thought I wouldn’t see you all night long, Y/N. Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Nowhere, I’ve just been making my rounds.”

“No headache this year?” he remarked, feigning concern as he examined you from head to toe. You suppressed the urge to stamp on his expensive boat shoes, even though it was highly inviting.

After all, he was the one who ratted you out last year to his mother, the editor in chief of the family newsletter.

“Absolutely not, though perhaps if I spend too much time in your company, I’ll feel one come on.”

“Now, cousin why are you being so foolish? We used to be the best of friends, didn’t we? Being the same age meant we were basically raised as twins.”

You smiled forcibly, knowing those innocent years were long gone. You had considered him like a brother until he exposed your secrets in high school one year for everyone in the hallway to hear. You had since taken a distinct dislike to spend any time in his company.

Whilst he relished in discovering more weaknesses to drag you down with.

“No boyfriend this year?” Joshua questioned, looking about you as if one would magically conjure up. “Again?”

“Is everything going well at the office?” you bit back courageously, somehow surprising yourself as much as you did Joshua. Your momentary burst of confidence waned and you tried to grapple onto what little remained. “I hope it’s going well for you.”

“Y/N, how dare you talk of that here!” he hissed and you stepped back, blinking rapidly as you bumped into someone.

And your breath hitched in your throat when they wrapped an arm around your waist. Darting your stunned focus up to the face of the person holding you, you merely stared at his side profile until he angled his head, smiling at you graciously. You were grateful for the firm grip around your waist as you felt your legs weaken a little.

He was far too handsome for you to handle right now.

“I finally found you. How could you play such a trick on me, baby? I just went to the bathroom and then you were nowhere to be found. I’ve been looking for you all this time!”

No one responded immediately, your gaze still upon the handsome stranger’s face and Joshua was watching you both intently. With a subtle press of his fingers into your side, you straightened, an awkward, breathy laugh tumbling out of you in response. “Oh, uh, I was-”

“Is this your cousin you were telling me all about?” the man prompted and you looked between them, suddenly nodding your head vigorously.

Joshua tentatively held out a hand to take the stranger’s outstretched one. “Joshua Melton. And you are Y/N’s friend?”

“Friend?” he repeated and chuckled, shaking his head. “Not unless that’s how you refer to someone you’re dating. Right, Y/N?”

It was growing difficult as you struggled to keep up with the conversation and not grow faint from the smell of his aftershave. You were overstimulated in this environment and so you snapped away from the stranger’s side, causing him to eye you carefully. He was working too hard on your behalf to mess this up and so you took over, slipping your arm more comfortably around his middle.

You then smiled. “How silly would it be to call you a friend-”

“I’m Yoo Kihyun. I work in marketing and met Y/N when she was doing an article on the trending marketing tactics of twenty-eighteen.”

You looked at Kihyun in wonder. You had edited an article on that topic and so it surprised you that he knew who you were and yet you had no idea where this mystery man had even come from. Still, he was helping you regain some credibility in front of your cousin and that was all you needed to focus on right now.

“I guess you’ve been so busy at work Josh that you hadn’t even heard my dating news?”

“I mean, it is early days,” Kihyun offered and you nodded thoughtfully, trying not to grin too much.

“It’s in that stage where I feel like every time I see you is the first time all over again.”

Kihyun snorted and Joshua chuckled hollowly.

“Well, uh, I’ll leave you both to it. Y/N, lovely to see you!”

“You too, Josh!” you called after his tailwind departure, trying not to giggle in triumph. You then turned to Kihyun, who was still holding you. Looking at his embrace, your cheeks flared. “Oh, uh well um-”

“We’re a couple now, at least for tonight, so we better make sure it remains a known fact for old Melton there,” Kihyun told you and you nodded gingerly, slipping away just enough to grab Kihyun’s hand and lead him over to an empty seating area along the wall.

“Thank you so much. You have no idea what your help tonight means to me.”

Kihyun shrugged, smiling at you again. “I think I have a fair idea.”

“You do?” Blinking slowly, you tried to remember if you had truly met Kihyun anywhere. He allowed your curious examination before chuckling softly at you. “Have we met before?”

“I’ve seen you before, but this is our first time talking, Y/N.”

“Then how do you – I mean, you knew about my article and everything!”

“Well, when you come to events like this each year, you kind of get the rundown of family dynamics after a while.”

“This isn’t your first time?”

Kihyun shook his head, turning thoughtful. “I think it’s about my fourth time? I work for one of your relatives and I get a bonus for turning up. Sounds ridiculous, but I work hard-”

“You should be rewarded for it then,” you concluded on his behalf and Kihyun nodded. “Well, again, thank you. Joshua has been holding power over me for years and even though I knew about his rocky position at work, I normally don’t speak up so boldly. I’m really glad that I had support to get through that moment.”

“I have to admit I find you incredibly interesting.”

“Oh?” Your cheeks felt warm again. “You do?”

Kihyun laughed heartily. “You are quite a funny little thing. Each year you try to hide. Why bother coming if you don’t want to be here? The first year I came, you were pressing yourself against that pillar there.”

You glanced at the large column and sighed weakly. You had hoped that hiding behind it in the corner would keep you out of Melissa’s wrath that year. She had just broken up with her soon to be husband for the eighth time and you hadn’t known and mistakenly asked her about him.

Kihyun continued. “And the next year, I swear you dropped to the ground and hid under a table at one point. Then last year you disappeared after claiming to have a headache and until your cousin found you tonight, were you waltzing independently?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, dropping your head into your hand momentarily before peeing back at Kihyun. “I’m rather foolish, aren’t I?”

“You don’t like family gatherings?”

“I might edit articles for several magazines and speak with a lot of people, but I am definitely no extrovert. Events like these really aren’t my thing.”

“Then why come?” Kihyun leaned forward, arching an eyebrow dramatically. “Are you being paid too?”

“No, but I wish I was,” you answered with a laugh. He laughed with you for a moment and you smiled. “This is actually the first event in gosh, ten years, where I’ve genuinely laughed. I owe you a lot tonight.”

“Well, you don’t have to pay me for it; it’s been a pleasure to have something to do other than observe the rituals of this party.”

Sharing a smile, you got lost in his gaze, startled when the countdown to midnight began. You didn’t join in, nor did Kihyun. Instead, you continued your moment.

And when the clock struck twelve, you leaned in and kissed Kihyun.

He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, placing a hand on your cheek as his mouth pressed into yours. It was the best way to bring in the New Year you decided, and when you finally pulled apart as celebrations rang around the entire party, you smiled brightly at him.

“Happy New Year, Kihyun.”

“You too, Y/N.”

When you opened your eyes the following morning, you couldn’t erase your smile. The events of last night played over in your mind and you rolled about in your bed excitedly, kicking at your sheets as you squealed.

It felt like a dream and yet, Kihyun had truly been a knight in shining armour.

Not only that, he had kissed you again after the first kiss and you had ended the night with one more before getting into an Uber and heading home. It was all so magical; you half expected a solo glass slipper to be sitting over on the chair with last night’s dress.

It was when you got up and started brushing your teeth that you realised there were some flaws in your fairytale ending. You racked your brain for any point in time where you asked for a way to contact him. Surely you would have thought to grab his phone number or a social media account in the very least. But as you replayed each scene carefully, taking your time to cleanse your face in between, you gasped, realising you hadn’t so much as mentioned exchanging details.

After patting your face dry, you reached for your phone on the basin, scrolling through for any new contacts. You knew you had none, but you checked several times, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously as you did so. There was no trace of Kihyun anywhere. Placing the device down with a little more effort than usual, you pouted up at your reflection. It was then that you noticed you had bumped the camera button and went to close out of it, spotting a thumbnail from a previous photo you had taken. Clicking it, you realised your phone did have at least one sign of Kihyun on it, easing your sudden return to thinking it had been a dream. There was only one photo, but it was enough to let your heart sing out as you stared fondly at your selfie with him.

Still, it wasn’t enough. And when you recalled that he worked for a relative, you couldn’t remember which one – or if he had even said who. Your family was large and it would take you some time to find the answer.

With the twist in events, you realised that it was Kihyun who should have left you a glass slipper instead. Aside from his name, in which a quick search on your social media handles and a Google search of his name left you empty-handed, you only had a photo to go upon.

As you thought over his kisses one more time, you felt determined to try and find him all the same. You hadn’t just kissed him out of gratitude, and you were certain Kihyun hadn’t helped you because he was amused by your antics either.

Despite all efforts, you exhausted your resources. You asked around the family as discreetly as you could for Kihyun and came back with no information at all. He eluded you on every step and as the months went by, you slowly became convinced that he was a mystical pixie of the night. It was the only thing you could conclude it to as Yoo Kihyun had otherwise entirely disappeared from your life altogether.

Not that he had been in it for all that long, to begin with.

And so, when Christmas arrived again, you had almost forgotten all about the man who saved you last year.

Almost.

Of course, when your family had gotten together earlier in the year, you had fibbed that your boyfriend had to work overseas so you had chosen to separate for the time being. Somehow, that was all you could hold onto as well. Being unable to find him here felt more plausible when you considered it was because he wasn’t in the city anymore.

And as you readied for the annual New Year’s Eve party, you told yourself you wouldn’t search for Kihyun in the shadows, not even once.

You arrived at an acceptable hour and politely had drinks with Melissa who was newly married, listening to her gush about her wedding as if you hadn’t been there to witness it all. You didn’t sidestep around Aunt Marcie, and you even laughed at one of Uncle Matt’s magic tricks.

And when Joshua appeared in front of you much later into the evening, you smiled brightly at him in greeting. “Cousin.”

“Y/N, how are we doing tonight?” he wondered, leaving you no time to respond before moving onto his next question. “Oh, no boyfriend this year?”

“Afraid not, you know what happened.”

“Yes, yes, overseas you say. You know, I did ponder the idea that you faked it all.”

You shrugged. “And maybe I did. I must have paid him to come over and pretend in front of you, huh?”

“Well, it makes sense, given…”

You blinked as he trailed off, his attention falling from you. “Given what?”

“Sorry I’m late, did you wait long for me?” a voice mentioned breathlessly and you turned, your eyes widening to find Kihyun behind you. He barely gave you a look before turning to your cousin. “Oh, Jenson, right?”

“Joshua.”

“Of course, sorry. I’ve been so busy this year, it’s easy to forget about the small details. Y/N, are you okay? I know I’m really late.”

You didn’t even hear Joshua’s departing sentence, still staring up at the man before you. And slowly, you raised a hand to his face, blinking when your fingers brushed along his jawline. “You do exist.”

“What? Of course, I do.”

Looking around yourself you then dazedly looked back at him. “For only a night?”

Kihyun grew amused. “Ah, right, you seem to be expecting me to disappear after midnight. Maybe leave you a glass slipper? Dive into the back of a pumpkin carriage?”

“Cinderella leaves before midnight,” you replied indignantly and moved over to the same seating area you had last year. Kihyun sat down beside you and it took all your effort to not reach out for his hand. “And Prince Charming discovers her far more easily than you are to find.”

“I clearly left a sore spot, I apologise for that,” he mentioned and you nodded simply. “Did you look for me?”

“I don’t just kiss anyone.”

“But you kissed me, and I could be just anyone. You barely knew anything about me.”

“I still don’t.”

“What are fake dates for? It means the details can be anything,” he offered and you glanced at him cautiously.

“Did you lie about who you are last year?”

Kihyun shook his head firmly. “No, but I wasn’t entirely honest either. I had to go away and help build the new branch overseas for most of the year. It was something I had pre-planned and then I… well, you kissed me first and I should have told you then but I chose to kiss you back and lead you on. I wasn’t in any position to start something with you back then.”

You laughed, shaking your head incredulously. “I told everyone we broke up because you went overseas.”

“That’s uncanny,” he murmured and slowly took your hand. You didn’t refute his advances and Kihyun rubbed your skin gently with his thumb. “I thought of you a lot over this year.”

“Wait, you knew who I was, you could have contacted me!”

“I did, I emailed you in January right before I went overseas.”

“You didn’t!” you exclaimed, feeling flustered at the concept that he had even thought to reach out to you.

He held up his phone after a quick scroll, showing you that he had emailed your work account. Kihyun sighed sadly. “And then I rang your branch in March. They told me you had left your job as you had been given a better offer.”

“So we both looked and found no glass slipper,” you surmised.

“Are you wearing any now?”

“It was you who I thought was Cinderella, remember?” you replied, nudging your heel into the side of his shoe.

“Well, how about we do this the modern way. Give me your number. That is if you want to.”

“Are you going overseas again?”

Kihyun shook his head. “I’m receiving a promotion and running a department here. Permanently.”

You took the phone he held out and put your digits in, saving it and even pressed call before handing it back so you knew you would get his number. Kihyun laughed heartily. And then you let go of his other hand altogether, shooting him a look.

“I tried my hardest this year to not do any silly antics at this party.”

“Except when it comes to me, huh?”

“Well, like you said, as a fake date, anything can be a detail.”

“Can I share what I think would be a good idea to try?” Kihyun asked and you nodded softly. “How about, there’s a guy. Who watched you from afar for four whole years. He was completely intrigued by you but for a while, he felt that you were too closed off to approach. Then he saw you having trouble with a relative and stepped in, offering to be your fake boyfriend to rise above the ridicule of that relative. You kissed him right when it hit midnight, changing how he viewed you completely. Unfortunately, he had made prior commitments and couldn’t just drop them for a beautiful girl he barely knew more than five things about. So he did his best to try and forget about you until he came back. And now he’s slipped back into the role he started last year, though he doesn’t want to be that anymore. He wants more.”

“What does he want?” you breathed, certain your heart was now fluttering around in your stomach wildly.

Kihyun shifted closer, stopping when he heard the countdown begin. Just like last year, you didn’t join in, too focused on Kihyun’s expression. And when it finally hit midnight, his lips crashed down on yours, passionately taking you into another realm of celebrations. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him, kissing him back with just as much demand.

When you could no longer breathe, you fell apart, heaving in some air to regulate your breathing from such a mind-blowing kiss. And Kihyun caressed your cheek affectionately.

“Let’s actually date. It’s been fun creating an alternate world with you to fool Joshua, but let’s make it real. I don’t want to have any more time go between us before I get to kiss you again.”

“You’re talking a lot for a guy who doesn’t want any more time to slip by,” you told him before pressing your lips briefly to his again.

“Happy New Year, Kihyun.”

“You too, Y/N.”

Waking up later in the morning, you peered around your room cautiously. There laid your dress from last night over on your chair, and you noticed nothing else was out of the ordinary.

And then your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“So, I was wondering if I could take you out for breakfast. Or I could make you some. I’m pretty handy in the kitchen actually. Wait, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

Suppressing your initial urge to squeal out euphorically, you giggled instead. “I just woke up.”

“You don’t say?”

“Wait, you could tell I woke up now? Can you see me right now?”

“I wish I could.”

Relaxing, you played with the edge of your blanket. “So it wasn’t a dream this year?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Kihyun replied with a laugh and you imagined what he looked like right now. Was he dressed already? Or still in bed like you with messy hair? You sat up then, reaching a hand up into your hair.

If Kihyun wanted to meet up soon, you would need to get moving right now.

“So, breakfast?”

“Give me an hour and I’ll meet you anywhere,” you answered.

“An entire hour? Don’t you think it’s been too long since I last saw you? After all, we’re in that stage where seeing each other will feel like the first time all over again.”

You laughed. “You remember that line?”

“I remember everything about you that I’ve learned.”

“Which isn’t much,” you retorted as you moved into your bathroom.

“No, but I’ve decided that it’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I have all the time in the world to find out all about you now.”

“You’re not going to disappear again?”

“Not unless I’m disappearing somewhere with you.”

After arranging a place to meet up, you hung up and stared at your reflection in the mirror, biting your lip to conceal your excitement.

You really had hated those parties each year. But they had also been where you met Yoo Kihyun. Bringing in the New Year hadn’t felt this good before.

And you were more than ready to see where this year would take you.

_________________

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zertzertzhang · 3 years

Text

I Need a Hero Chapter One

Synospis: Seen as the demon bastard of his village, Nezha is sent on a quest to redeem his character. It was supposed to be simple. Rescue the maiden, marry her off to the viceroy, collect community service points, and done. He really didn't think one mission alone was all that it took to unravel his past, present, and future like an onion. When a cursed princess swamps him under a horde of secrets, he is faced with two choices; accept fate...or fight it.*A story loosely (or largely) based on good ol' Shrek with some other influences sprinkled here and there for giggles.

Once upon a time, in a palace far, far away, lived a maiden. Said to be the fairest of her kingdom, she was doomed to spend twenty years in solitude, locked away from all life. A curse was placed upon her, only to be broken by true love's first kiss.

If she was not saved by her twentieth birthday, then her soul would be claimed by the Dragon Lord of the East Sea.

Her true face was never seen by anyone, as the tower was guarded by a terrible dragon.

Many have tried to free her from this dreadful prison, from the warriors of the state to the princes of Agrabah. None prevailed.

Thus the maiden waited in her chambers, in the highest room of the tallest pagoda, still waiting for her true love...And true love's first kiss-

"What a load of bull!"

Nezha busted out laughing. It was a bitter sound that bounced off the walls, traveling at least half a corridor down the hall.

An ear-grating tear echoed from the rooms of Li Manor as a frustrated shout followed just seconds after.

The double doors flew open with a terrifying bang, revealing the youngest young master storming around his room in a fit of disbelief.

"People still read this shit?!" Nezha forced a harsh laugh that scraped at the butler's eardrums. "Bring me better reading material next time or else I'll send you flying to the nine levels of hell and back!"

His pointed finger at one of the butlers was enough to send the latter teetering over the edge of an epileptic seizure.

The poor butler could only sputter as he tried every method in the book to lessen his suffering "Y-yes! Young master! I apologize for my transgression! Next time-"

"There's no next time!" Nezha fumed. "One more stupid story from you and I'll take my leave to the village where I can actually have fun!"

A lopsided grin broke across Nezha's face while he uttered the last words, as if just thinking about seeing the horrified faces of the villagers could serve as ample entertainment. The dimwitted guards by the manor would be no match for him if he really wanted to leave.

It would seem that it was inevitable for a run in with the law that day. Paying no attention to the stuttering servant next to him, Nezha frowned, debating the pros and cons over leaving right then and there.

"Young master," the butler started, "how would you like to-"

Nezha interrupted with a swift wave of a hand. "Scram already!"

To add to his point, the young man snapped his gaze to the quivering butler, scowling for good measure. It worked, as expected.

The older man scrambled backwards, squeaking for mercy. But he didn't need to go far, for the subject of his terror had long left the spot where he had originally stood. Nezha was on the rooftops in a blink of an eye.

"W-wait!" The butler tried to climb over the decorative stones, only to find himself hanging by the sides of the ledge like a helpless kitten. "Where are you going, young master?!"

At the sight of such, Nezha smirked. He made no attempt to help the butler up to his level.

"You gotta try harder than that."

"But you can't go out the manor!" the butler wailed. "Master Li has specific orders that you-"

"Stay in for the rest of your life," Nezha cut in for the upteenth time. "I heard it the first time."

Cracking his knuckles, he let out an obnoxious yawn before looking down at the latter with utmost boredom. "But anyways, I'll see ya later!"

The mischievous smile never left his face as he hopped down from his perch, disappearing from the butler's vision just as fast as he did before.

It was futile to attempt to control Nezha, especially now that he had grown right into his adolescent form. Had it been a year earlier he would've still been a child no older than eight. Even then, the demon child was a living nightmare, but at least he could be consoled with a few magical trinkets.

The Nezha now was a bottle of raging hormones a few buttons away from implosion. His butler didn't want to entertain the idea of some unsuspecting villager accidentally triggering his fury, thus adding more to the Li Family's monthly bill.

There was still more renovation needed for the living room. Nezha had created a hole right in the middle of Li Manor square during one of his 'experiments'. And that alone sucked hundreds of pounds of gold into construction fees.

Putting two and two together, the butler slapped a hand over his hand, inches away from a mental breakdown. He had to come up with an excuse as to how he let Nezha slip away.

He had to save his own ass at least.

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

Not a lot of effort went into devising a plan to escape the manor. Hell, the word 'escape' never registered in Nezha's head over the two years since he began his daily avoidance from the manor servants.

In a second's time, he could turn himself into a maid. So a maid he did turn himself to.

With the excuse of buying the daily grocery, Nezha had no trouble in slipping past the manor guards. The duo of metallic chumps had no doubts, lifting the spell between the doors just enough for the disguised maid out the building.

If he could, Nezha would've been on the floor convulsing with laughter by now. There was nothing more hilarious than repeatedly fooling the same people around him with the same tricks every time, and still getting away with it.

Not bothering with another extra thought, Nezha made a beeline towards the main entrance of Chentang Pass.

The fun was just getting started.

Crunch.

His feet squandered a pitiful branch below him with a brittle snap. Nezha didn't bother with his usual surreptitious style of tormenting the villagers. Weeks of the same old pop and scream had taken to the boring side for him.

He wanted something fresh.

Like he predicted, heads snapped in his direction the moment his bare foot stepped into the street market. The stares from people were like an automatic feature the town had inserted for him.

All sounds of life came to a screeching halt in his presence. Even the leaves seemed like they had minds of their own and stopped rustling as soon as Nezha popped up.

Dead silence washed across the mass, readying its ugly fingers around their necks, urging them to scream.

The way his tendons popped as his slender fingers clenched to fists sounded akin to a bone-crusher readying himself for a new victim. It was of no help that the young man's inhuman mark glowed with his excitement.

Before Nezha, a man towards the front of the market opened his mouth. His distorted face combined with the growing tint of purple on his cheeks was a good indicator of the things that were about to spout from his lips.

It's the demon! Run for your lives! Get away!

Nezha waved lazily at them, their old scripts running through his head like a broken record. It was impossible to get them to think of something more enticing to say about his grand entrance.

For a moment, Nezha actually feared that the illiterates before him could only speak those three phrases. Crossing his arms, he allowed the grin on his lips to morph into a wolfish smile.

"You all know the drill right?" Nezha beat the man to the talking punch. "I don't need to say more than I have to."

The unified gasp was a good indicator that they got the message. Nezha scoffed.

"One."

All at once, sound rushed back to the village as screams shot through the air like a needle piercing through flesh. Under the dust of everyone shuffling at the same time, civilians stepped over one another in a frenzied attempt to hurl themselves into the nearest shelter they could find.

Soon, it was every man for himself. No place was barred from being taken up by bodies: pots, cabinets, closets, haystacks, and coffins, too.

"Four."

If the squawking chickens and kicking cows weren't a sight enough, a few villagers had somehow come to the conclusion that as long as they couldn't see him, then he couldn't see them.

"Eight."

There were times when Nezha wanted so desperately to capture the scene before him in his mind and replay it by himself in his room for shits and giggles. He wanted to memorize each and every wrinkle of terror everyone made, taking in the affects he could have on them.

"Ten." He uttered the last number with soft delicacy, but anyone with a brain could hear the restrained agitation seeping under the words.

Nezha was losing patience. Flinging an apple onto the head of a still running man, he marked the beginning of hide-and-seek with a screech from the villager.

The man skidded onto the ground in a thud, shivering uncontrollably. Something about the way he curled up into a ball, avoiding eye contact with him irked Nezha.

A grown ass man can't be that much of a coward?! I didn't even throw that hard!

Nezha scowled, passing the fallen civilian without as much as another glance.

He shouted into the void, "I hope everyone's gonna try harder than this! Ready or not, here I come!"

It was too easy; some failed to cover their mouths as they breathed in and out like a dragon in battle. Despite going on about it for over two years, the village never improved.

There was no point for Nezha to use his heightened senses to scope out the 'players'. They might as well hold up a sign that scribbled 'I'm right here!' at that point. Running finger along the cement walls in a haphazard manner, he whistled a jolly tune too festive for the tension around him,

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Nezha called. Lifting the lid off of an empty wine pot, he feigned surprise at the lack of shrieks.

He could hear the one person in the next pot over practically whimpering under their cover. The fear must've been great enough for the entire container to shake.

Nezha hummed to himself as he stepped towards the pot, twirling a branch in his hands. With a languid drag, his feet thudded against the dirt ground with emphasized force. A tiny squeak echoed from the container, officially giving away to the person within.

"Hmm." Nezha stroked the other pots besides it almost lovingly. "Now where did ya go?"

Fwip. The pot second to the left was slapped away. Each smash of a china elicited a shriek. If Nezha had a third eye, he swore he would see the fear radiating in the last pot of the bunch.

His smile grew; playtime was over now.

Reaching over, Nezha wrapped his fingers over the handles, breathing in the anticipated rush of adrenaline the shear horror from the man would bring.

Lips peeling back to reveal sharp canines, the young man readied his most terrifying expression. At the same time, the villager inside prepared himself to beg for mercy.

Funny enough, it would appear that his prayers were answered, because the lid never opened.

Instead, Nezha's eyes were glued to the posters nailed onto the columns over his head. The stark contrast of red against white caught his attention. A warrant of some kind had been posted all over the town square.

It had to be fresh; the last time he had been in Chentang's center, Nezha didn't notice such a thing. Littering the walls of restaurants and stands, the warrants were hard to miss.

Without a second thought, Nezha's arm shot out and tore off a poster. Even the ink smelled like it had just been stamped onto the paper.

"Viceroy of Chentang calls for any brave warrior willing to rescue his bride, the maiden of the East Sea Pagoda. If successful, the reward of one hundred thousand taels of gold and twenty acres of land..." Nezha mumbled out the information in a string of low growls.

Pathetic.

In a huff, he crumpled the paper, tossing it aside. It sounded like some cheesy bedtime story plastered into reality, and he couldn't help but remember the stupid fairytale he'd read earlier in the morning.

As much as Nezha appreciated the celestial aspects of life, sappy legends were very much barf-inducing, real or not. He had seen enough men who forced others to fight their own battles to not give a hoot for this dime a dozen opportunity.

Agitation spiked through his veins. He realized he wasted a good minute of his time mulling over a poster. It almost derailed him from his original plans. Speaking of which...

Nezha chuckled, eyes zoning back to the quivering pot next to him. Throwing all thoughts of the fairytale out the window, he cracked his knuckles.

There was still a town left to scare.

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

Li-Jing's voice boomed over the courtyard, threatening to take down trees had he been any louder. The deep baritone made matters worse, echoing off the buildings like an angry thunder god seconds away from blasting lightning to the ground.

"I am about done with you!"

The servants scurried back to their quarters, not bothering to deliver dinner. Though, it didn't sound like the Li Family was hungry either.

Clustered around the mess of a room, Li-Jing and Lady Yin were currently looming over a lounging Nezha, who clearly wasn't going to pretend to give them an audience.

"What must I say to make you obey me?" Li-Jing demanded. "The village's tolerance of you is waning! One more misshape and they'll be at your neck!"

The threat made no difference in aiding their argument. If anything, the fine lines between Nezha's brows creased deeper, forming harsh valleys contorting his face in the most horrifying way possible.

He snapped, "And why do I care? That's what they said last time. If they really had the guts, they'd be dead by now."

Venomous abhorrence spewed from the youth, matching the volume of his father's with no trouble.

Li-Jing narrowed his eyes, balling his fists at his sides.

Not thrilled to see another fistfight break out, Lady Yin rested a hand against his back, trying desperately to reel her husband back from the land of rage.

The general was at his limits. In spite of all the training with Taiyi in the past two years, the volatile nature never left Nezha.

Reality crushed Li-Jing with an insufferable amount of pressure that he swore his back would break if it got any worse.

"You're not helping!" the general argued. "The more you retaliate, the more monsters you have to slay to appease them. You'll be back in square one."

Out of everything Li-Jing said, one of the words seemed to trigger Nezha, because the latter was up in his father's face in a flash, teeth baring like a wild boar beaten to a corner.

"So what," Nezha hissed through gritted teeth. "That's for me and me only! I'm not slaying monsters to make them happy. Those ingrates could rot for all I care!"

It didn't take a grand scholar to see that Li-Jing wanted to slam his own head against the poles.

Chen-Tang's general, held to the highest standard of all citizens, couldn't even control his own son. It wasn't clear if the red tint on his cheeks was from anger or embarrassment.

Lady Yin, on the other hand, didn't appear to give up. "Please, Nezha. I'll stay with you longer tomorrow. Just promise mother you won't go out like that again."

Nezha let out a bitter chuckle. Her consolidation had long lost its meaning to him. After the thirtieth time she failed her promise, he stopped counting. The efforts to calm him only served as an insult to his wounds.

"I wouldn't dream of holding you back," Nezha slurred. "Save your pity party for next time."

He rose to excuse himself, but the arm of his father appeared in his way, blocking the exit. Nezha did a double-take, but he could feel the smoldering indignation rising at incredible speed.

"That's not gonna stop me."

Li-Jing sighed. "Son, I understand your frustrations. But what happened today happened, and we need to do something about it."

"No we don't." Adamancy was Nezha's strong suit.

"I know you better than you'd think," his father retorted. "You want them to accept you. But every time some villager gets to you, you go right back to your old self. It's not doing favors for any of us. We only want you to be happy. And you do, too. But you know you won't get any better by terrorizing them."

A slight twitch at the corners of Nezha's lips was a bigger sign than all else. He was listening, albeit begrudgingly.

Exhaling in relief, Li-Jing took the silent invitation to go on. At least he had a foot in the door now.

"There might be a few assignments we could give you," he continued. "They're not boring for sure. You might have to get physical with a few demons, though. But it could come in handy for training."

At the sound of demons, Nezha made a rigid turn towards his father, his pointed ears stood at attention. As long as he had the chance to put his two-years worth of training to work, anything was negotiable.

Li-Jing knew he had his son's full interest. He just had to give one more nudge and-

Bang!

A crash exploded by the doors, slapping all three Li's from their stare-down. Li-Jing groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. They had everything smoothed over, inches away from calming Nezha, and this motherf- just had to ruin it.

The general whipped his gaze to the dusty entrance, mouth open to unleash a slew of grievances, before his eyes widened at the sight of the guest.

Standing over the crumbles of what was left of the gates, Taiyi stumbled over his two left feet, mumbling something about wine and pretty women.

Nezha couldn't roll his eyes any harder. His master was undoubtedly drunk over his head, maybe even rejected by a few girls on the streets. The scene before him was too familiar.

Huffing, he glared. "Get lost, old geezer. I'm in the middle of something."

Taiyi ignored his demand, instead sauntering over in a giddy fashion like he just discovered the next best thing.

"Yohohoho!" The stench of alcohol escaped from the deity's mouth, gagging the poor audience around him. "Found the next adventure for ya, boy! I Overheard tha 'hole thing back there!"

Nezha growled. "You could've at least knocked!"

Taiyi snorted, patting his beer belly. "Can't a retired model relive his catwalk entrance?"

If he thought that was supposed to be funny, then he flopped hard. Nezha's previous agitation was on the rise once more, this time with full force.

"Spit it out already, old man! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"Jeez," Taiyi complained. "Alright, alright! I found the perfect mission to repair your majesty's tarnished reputation, you little ingrate."

The deity grounded the last words in a whisper, trying but obviously failing to hide his distaste. Nezha's enhanced hearing caught it without a problem.

In light of his hammered state, Nezha stayed silent despite feeling a vein pop. There was always another day to light Taiyi's pants on fire.

"Spit. It. Out," he grounded.

Taiyi seemed to find amusement in twirling Nezha's mood, opting to wag a finger in front of the youth's face. The god knew his ass was going to pay for it later, but the petty in him had to take the opportunity.

Fumbling through his many pockets, Taiyi's face lit up with child-like jubilation at the sound of crinkling paper.

Nezha was not prepared to have a smelly and stained piece of parchment shoved into his face. He was sure if Taiyi had another pot of alcohol, he would've straight up crashed into him instead.

His master wiggled his caterpillar of a brow.

"Ya interested in some dragonslayin'?"

It took Nezha a moment to come back down to Earth. He snatched the paper, scowling at the deity before him. Focusing on the words of the parchment, the young man almost coughed blood at the sudden recognition.

It was the warrant for the princess.

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A/N: QUICK! Somebody insert Allstar in the scene! ;)

#shrek #shrek is love #nezha #nezha 2019 #ne zha: birth of the demon child #哪吒之魔童降世 #fanfiction #parody #ao bing #哪吒

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marvel-ousnesss · 4 years

Text

The Pirate and the Witch (part five)

(via giphy)

Word Count: 3425

Pairing: Harry Hook x daughter of narissa!reader

Summary: Y/N, an orphan vk who was taken to auradon at a young age, returns to her old home by request of the crown prince. However, things tend to go south at the Isle of the Lost.

Warning: Mild cursing, mentions of hangover

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE DISNEY DESCENDANTS CHARACTERS NOR THE SANDERSON SISTERS. All credit goes to the creators, writers, and producers.

A/N: No Harry in this part, just moving the plot forward; TBH I'm just trying to get through the first movie so I can just focus a bit more on the pairing. So, let me know what you think and don't hesitate to ask if you wanna be tagged in upcoming parts.

Part one

Part two

Part Three

Part Four

masterlist

I sprint to my place, going as fast as my feet allow it, and like I feared but expected, find a limousine waiting for me right outside.

“Give me 10 minutes,” I instruct over my shoulder, not giving the guards any time to protest.

I throw the door and go straight to the closet. Instead of neatly packing, I roll everything up and force it into my backpack. Next, I move to my desk to grab the tablet and folder I brought with me. As I rush downstairs, I mentally do a checklist of my belongings and, panting, I sit on the back of the car.

“Nailed it,” my voice is quiet but full of pride.

A headache hits me as soon as we begin moving; nausea and dizziness follow closely so I shut my eyes and try to drift off.

“Prince Ben is expecting you at the castle,” I groan at the driver’s announcement

“Please tell him I can’t go, I’m feeling a bit under the weather.”

“I apologize, lady Y/N, but I cannot do that. His highness said it was a matter of immediate importance.”

I breathe, “fine then.”

…..

After the familiar but pompous welcome at the entrance of the castle, without even greeting my parents, I’m escorted to Ben’s quarters; more specifically, his ‘office’.

I sit down in front of his workspace to wait for him; a few minutes later, he goest through the double doors, sporting the grin of the Cheshire Cat.

“Tell me everything.”

He walks to his desk and sits down expectantly.

I, however, don’t share his joyful mood. My arms fall to rest on his desk and my head follows, now resting on my elbows and facing down.

Completely disregarding the groan emitted by me, he whines, “Y/NNN.”

Another groan.

“You can’t leave me like this, you know? How was it? Did you meet Maleficent? Jafar?” He gasps, “did you see the Huns’ Troops?”

“No, yes, and no;” I lift my head, so it remains over my elbows, but facing him. “I met the crew of the Black Pearl.”

“Seriously? That’s awesome, I mean scary, I mean… tell me everyth.. are you okay?” His eyes flicker from thrill to worry, and his left hand reaches out to my right arm.

“Just hungover, and really tired, I guess.”

The prince opens his mouth but decides against voicing his thoughts. I bet he was gonna say something about underage drinking, but reminded himself where I was. I chuckle, almost inaudibly.

“Do you wanna lay down for a bit? We still have a few hours before Snow White’s birthday,” he offers.

I nod, “yes please.”

He leads me to his room and helps me make the bed; then, he digs through the first drawer of his nightstand and takes out a small white pill.

“There’s a glass of water on the bathroom sink. I don’t really know how to get rid of a hangover, but I think this and a nap will do the trick.”

“Thanks Ben.”

It didn’t completely do the trick. After what I assume were a few hours of tossing and turning, I’m woken up by my alarm and find myself walking to the bathroom. The headache has lessened, but the sensation of discomfort is still lingering through my body.

I take a cold shower and get dressed. After achieving a simple, yet classy look with the makeup Audrey kept at Ben’s, I go out of his room and head downstairs.

….

So far, everything’s going great. Most people have been dancing all night and all the guests seem to be enjoying the music, the food, and everything else that the party offers. I, for one, danced with Herkie for a bit, and then grabbed a snack with Jane and Lonnie. Right now, I’m making my way back to our family table when I cross paths with my dad.

With the most kind and charming smile, and a stiff voice dripping with formality, he asks “May I have this dance, my lady?”

With a smile matching his, I bow and reply, “sure, dad.”

“Killjoy,” he frowns.

The music grows louder and faster; and before I know it, I’m being twirled around the dance floor guided by my dad’s expert moves.

“You know, the king was worried sick about you,” he says once we return to our original position.

I quirk a brow, “about me, or about me going all rogue and Vk?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks with a small laugh. “You’ve been going rogue ever since you met that kid Ben, totally a bad influence.”

“Yeah, right… Ben’s fault,” I smirk. “Ignoring the fact that I’m your daughter.”

Pretending to be offended, he gasps and snickers, “What are you suggesting young lady?”

“Oh, nothing, dad, nothing at all,” I play coy.

After laughing again, with a motion of his right hand, my dad spins me toward the center of the dance floor and I end up in the arms of none other than Chad Charming.

He tries to speak seductively, apparently forgetting that it’s me who he’s dancing with.

“Y/N,” he greets, making his voice come out an octave deeper.

“Chad,” I giggle, unable to help myself. Does that voice even work on anyone?

“You look great tonight.”

“You too,” I return the compliment. “ But you’d look even better if you didn’t use your macho voice with me.”

His chest vibrates with his chuckle; but, as we dance, his eyes fly across the room.

Already knowing that face, I inquire, “who’s your victim for tonight?”

“Victim? How low do you think of me?”

“I mean, with all due respect-,” this time, it is me who guides his hand, inviting him to spin me. “Who’s the unlucky lady who’s caught your eye?”

“Melody over there, she’s been totally flirting with me lately.”

My nose scrunches, then I point out, “hate to break it to you, but she’s dating the blond guy.”

His right hand abandons my back and he exaggeratedly points at his head, making a face that seems to taunt saying, “duh”.

I roll my eyes at him, “the other blond. The one she’s talking to.”

He shrugs, and voices in a sing-song manner, “don’t know, don’t care.”

“Chad, we don’t flirt with people with boyfriends.”

He pouts, “You’re no fun.”

The song finishes, so I decide to look for Ben; he’s with his dad, sitting at their table and talking.

I take a deep breath before I approach them, and walk to them with a smile.

“Your Majesty, Ben,” I greet.

“Y/N, we were just talking about you. Take a seat.” Ben sends me an apologetic look, after hearing his father’s words.

I thank him and sit down on the empty chair that he pointed to. After offering me some food and a glass of lemonade, the king begins, “I gather that your experience at the Isle was, well, invigorating; I’d love to hear every detail.”

My eyes drift over to the prince, silently asking him for help, but his only response is an encouraging smile.

……

“To be honest,” I take a sip of my tea, “my conversation with the king didn’t go half as bad as I thought it would. I spared the Harry part, and he actually seemed to be kind of proud of my “data compilation,” as he called it”.

The three fairies hum as they listen to my words. I came for routine lessons today, but they managed to get me spilling all the gossip.

“He said the only thing left to do was putting the plan into action, which took me out of guard, really.”

“We’re really proud of you, dear,” says Merrywether.

Flora stirs her tea, “but you need to know that the union of both lands won’t come with an exchange program for students.”

I shrug, smiling at her, “you’ve gotta begin somewhere. And I believe that, the way my trip to the Isle went will make everything else just flow into place.”

Merrywether makes a move to grab a biscuit, but decides against it and takes a handful instead. Settling them on her lap to eat them one by one, she presses, “Tell us everything, how’s the place? Is it true that they eat kittens for breakfast?” She gasps, “or, or that the pirates feed the intruders to their man-eating kraken?”

I chuckle at her fearful antics and explain. “I did find the place frightening, but the people are not as mean as they paint them to be. Well, of the ones I met, only Jafar…”

Flora seems taken aback, “you met… them? How many of them? Did they do something to you? Are you sure you’re not spelled or anything? I think we should scan you for dark magic.”

“Flora, I’m fine. Really.”

“But—”

“As I said, they’re not that bad. I actually got along well with the ones I met.” I claim, “Jack and Gil were really kind to me, just like Maestre Gibbs. I also spent some time with Jay, Jafar’s son, and Carlos de Vil. Oh, and there’s also Harry; when Fairygodmother told me about him, she warned me how vicious and dangerous he was but he was just a bit cocky."

Fauna sighs, grinning at me expectantly, but the joy of her expression falls when I continue; ”A pretty cool guy, actually."

At that moment, the three faes exchange a worried look.

"What is it?"

"It's just," Flora sighs, "we think he may be a bad influence on you, dear."

"Yeah, we've made such huge advances with your progress," agrees Fauna, "and it'd be a shame for--"

"For me to go evil?"

"No, honey, we didn't mean it like that," Merywether tries to mend it, but I know how they mean it; just like the king and queen do.

"Then, how did you mean it? Do you seriously trust me so little? And, and do you seriously think so low of the VKs?" I place my cup on the table, looking at them with disbelief.

“We’re glad that they were kind to you, but you can’t forget what they’re capable of, darling. They’re there for a reason.”

“Them, or their parents?”

With a wave of her wand, Merywether refills the teapot and tray. As she does so, Flora stands up and looks out the window; “Well you know, how’s the saying?, why cure it when you can prevent it.”

“Unbelievable,” I scoff at her words.

Fauna’s voice is soft, and her look is full of pity, “Darling, we just think there are better crowds for you to hang with.”

Unbelievable. However, I manage to smile at her and say, “you have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

They don’t seem to believe me, but refuse to press on the topic; so the three of them exchange looks and flora speaks up; “okay, dear, let’s get started, then.”

Not to be dramatic, but I would’ve preferred a sleeping curse over today's lesson. The first three hours are full of misguided spells, so I ask for a break.

”This isn't working, ” I groan; ”can we please practice something else?”

Merrywether sighs, “let’s work on some transfiguration spells, honey.”

I agree, hoping that it'll clear my mind. Without a word, I then summon a table with three vases, and concentrate to turn them into whatever the fairies instruct me to.

………….

The next day, the sound of my phone wakes me up early; Ben's ready to reveal who he has chosen for the exchange program that we planned, and he asked me to be there when he tells his parents. So, right after breakfast with Aunt Charlotte, I drive to the castle, practically jump out of my car, and sprint to the Prince's Chambers.

Without announcements, I dive through the door; he smiles, "okay, now that we're all here, I'd like to make my first royal proclamation."

Oh don there'll be time for royal decrees, i cant believe you'll be king next month. Sixteen's to young to be king.

You'll do great, Im sure belle

I just smile at him, anf take a seat on the edge of his bed, giving him a nod

He chuckles, but as the words leave his mouth, all the smiles in the room are replaced by serious looks; except for mine. "As you know, I've decided that the kids of The Isle of the Lost are to be given a chance to leave here in Auradon."

Beast's comprehensive and caring facade quivers, as he points out the window, "I know we've spoken about this, but you are talking about the children of our sworn enemies living among us. Such risk cannot be taken."

"Every time I look out to the isle I, I feel like they've been abandoned. They're out there paying for something their parents did and it's time to do something about it." His words are full of confidence and compassion, he's gonna make the best king this people have ever seen. "They deserve a second chance, and I've already chosen the ones who'll inaugurate the program."

"Have you?" the king's voice is challenging, but he calms down when his wife speaks up; "I gave you a second chance," she reminds.

"Children of Jafar," Belle gasps, "Evil Queen, Cruella de Vil, and Maleficent." He doesn't hesitate.

I'm proud of him, but my smile becomes a bit forced when I hear his chosen VKs; it wouldn't be frank to say that I wouldn't've prefered for the pirates to come.

"Maleficent!?," roars Beast, "she is the most feared and vicious villain of the land. Her and those people are guilty of atrocities."

Suddenly, Ben's voice becomes pleading "But their children are innocent, don't you think they deserve another shot?"

The king hesitates,

"You gave me a second chance," I say. His eyes soften as he looks at me. Even if they can be too proud to admit it, the king and queen of Auradon have shown me such affections dignified for a daughter; it would be a lie to say that they didn't care for me.

He tries to toughen up again, but our imploring looks convince him otherwise.

"I guess their children are innocent. "

Ben smiled once again, "thanks dad, you won't regret it."

The day of the VK's arrival comes, and everything was perfectly organized; the band was playing and students and teachers were waving with excitement. You'd say that they all supported the young prince's decision; at least they pretend well (speaking of hypocrite). I chuckle as I look through the school window; even from here, I can see Ben's expression of excitement and Audrey's almost permanent plastic grin. The limo hasn't arrived yet, so I decide to grab a bite before the newcomers arrive.

After finishing my sandwich, I rush down the stairs to meet Ben, and bump into him as soon as I start descending.

"Oh, there you are, guys; come down," he smiles. I look behind me and find Doug strolling down the stairs.

"These are Doug and-"

"Y/N?" Carlos chirps, to which I respond with a smile and a wave.

"You know them?" Audrey questions, "Ben, she-"

"Relax, I'll explain later," he places a hand on her arm lovingly, "As you guys already know each other, Y/N and Doug will show you the rest of the school and will help you with your class schedules."

"Hey, guys, I'm Doupy's son; and this is Y/N, but you already know her, I guess, so," his voice is shaky and his eyes are changing constantly between me and them.

They look at me quizzically, "I'll explain later. Doug, these are Carlos, son of Cruella de Vil, Jay, son of Jafar; Mal, daughter of Maleficent; and Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen."

Doug takes a deep breath, "Great that we know each other; now, I already signed you up for all of your classes so feel free to ask any questions that you have."

"I have one," Mal smirks at me. "Does your pirate boyfriend know you're a pretty princess or did you,"she gasps mockingly," lie to him?"

In that moment, a glare replaces my comfortable smile and electric green sparks slither through my fingers; "I'll be happy to answer all of your school-related questions."

We walk down the hall in a tense silence, until we arrive at the last door of the building; "So, this is it," Doug smiles at Mal and Evie.

They wave and get inside, then I turn around and begin to walk away.

'' Aren't we getting the room next-door?" asks Carlos.

"Nope, now, c'mon," I grin, can't wait to show them their room; they're gonna love it.

I practically jump through the hall and into their room; also the last one down the hall but in the boys' side.

I open the wooden door and get inside, everything is neatly organized but the color pallette is a bit darker than it is for the rest of the rooms. Aside from that, it has the same things as the rest, including the console connected to the flatscreen tv on the wall.

They look at everything in awe, and take no time to throw themselves on the beds. "This is, wow," breathes Carlos; Jay agrees, bouncing on the mattress.

"This," I grab the console controls, "is the best part of all. It comes with 600 games and I'm sure that, if you play the proxy right, you'll have like 400ish more."

The boys come closer to the tv and look at it curiously, "it's like the one you showed me back home, the tablet?"

"Yup, just like that," I throw the control at Jay; "try it."

"Thanks Y/N, I mean, uh, bye."

Jay begins playing, and Carlos sits on a couch besides him; "no, really, thanks Y/N.''

"Bye, guys."

……..

I toss Chad his jacket without looking up from the book I'm reading. He and Ben have a tourney game against the falcons in a few hours and, given that Audrey and I have to cheer through it as well, the four of us decided to gather and work on some homework. Nevermind; Ben, Audrey and I are working on homework while Chad scrolls through the phone his dad just got him.

After Chad breathes out a 'thanks', the room falls silent, but Audrey complains, "I just don't think they belong here."

"Who?," Asks Chad.

"The teaching staff," I mock, "the VKs, you moron."

Ben sighs, putting his shoes back on; "oh, come on, they haven't done anything to us. They're not that bad."

"Ben, their parents are villains; that makes them evil too."

This time, I do place my book down to look at her, "You don't even have a point there; have you forgotten who my mom was?"

"It's different Y/N, you were raised here; and you're not evil, you're our friend;" she smiles at me.

Chad takes a drink of water from his bottle, "well, evil or not, Evie's kinda hot; and she's a nerd too. Got her to do all my chemistry homework."

I scoff, "such a gentleman."

"Seriously, guys, have any of you had a decent conversation with them? They're just like us," Ben insists.

"Y/N has," Audrey points out, placing her pink notebook inside her bag. "In fact, she knows the two boys. You never told us, Y/N/N, why were they so friendly with you when they got here."

Hearing Audrey's question, the three of us share a dissimulated look, and I explain. "Before school started, I went to check The Isle, spent a few days there, no big deal."

"It was all a plan so I could prepare my proclamation, Y/N went there and, based on what she saw, I chose the four VKs that joined the program."

Audrey's mouth is agape, but Chad keeps no mind of our conversation.

"You don't look surprised, Chad," she digresses. "Why don't you look surprised?"

"Only the three of us knew about it, we kept it secret so his dad wouldn't stop us."

"And you didn't tell me? Your girlfriend?"

"I-"

Placing my hair into a ponytail, I question, "Would've you let us go through with it?"

She glares at the three of us, but sighs "no."

She giggles, but we all know to look past that, "Well, your choice couldn't have been worse, Bennyboo."

We get out of the boys' dorm and begin to make our way to our lockers; "what matters is that the choice is made," I shrug.

Tags: @criticizing-blogger

@aspitefullittlebeing @treestarrrrrrrr

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overdramatic-queer-antagonist · 3 years

Text

Stop The Apocalypse Out of Spite (Pt 5)

I Have Never In My Life Posted On A Schedule.

Ao3 First Last Next

Martin had to lie to Sasha. He hated lying to people. Martin was scarily good at it, but he hated it. Peter used to worry he'd run off to the Web. But Martin couldn't tell her the truth. It would only serve to scare her. Make her paranoid. Martin would tell her the truth eventually. Just not yet.

Elias had called Martin up to his office. Never a good sign. He waved to Rosie as he made his way into Elias's asshole office with the self-absorbed dickhead painting of Jonah Magnus (Also technically Elias.)

"What do you want?" Martin asked, not bothering their usual passive-aggressive song and dance.

Elias grinned that wolfish grin at him, "Well, Son , I wish you'd be more respectful to your father, but I have some questions for you." Anyone who says you shouldn't hate your parents wasn't raised Elias fucking Bouchard. If Martin had to guess (Which he didn't much like to do. Better to not think about whatever the hell Elias was doing,) this was one of those times where Elias was about to hold something over his head.

Still, Martin sat down at the seat across from Elias's desk and looked at him questioningly. "Go on," He said, too tired to try to fight.

Elias frowned at him, "How much sleep have you gotten?"

Martin flipped him off.

"Listen- okay. Yes. Yes. That's fair, but- Mar-Martin, I am your father, and I would-"

"Fuck off, Elias!"

"I would like to confirm that your taking care of yourself."

"You know I'd probably get more sleep if you stopped torturing my friends!"

Elias sighed, "Martin. We've had this conversation before. In order to become the ruler of the new world-"

"I hate you so much."

"I needed to find a suitable sacrifice for the Ceaseless Watcher, and you and the Eye happen to have the same taste in men."

"I don't see why you Need to sacrifice anyone!"

"Martin. I don't want to fight-"

"Then just ask your god damn question!"

"Okay. Okay." There was a pause before Elias threw his head back against his chair, groaning. "I was going to be all menacing and vague about knowing about the NotThem, but now I just feel bad!"

Martin rolled his eyes, "Well, sorry to foil your plans. Is that all?"

Elias pouted. Grow the fuck up, dude. "Well, no. Peter wanted me to ask if you wanted to go on a Tundra round with him, but between you and me, I think he's just worried you'll finally notice that the Eye is much cooler than the Lonely."

"Bye, Elias!" Martin announced as he walked to the vainglorious doors.

"Oh! Martin! I almost forgot! I transferred you over to the Archives. You're an assistant now."

Martin stopped. He's given Elias plenty of looks in his time, all of which entirely deserved, but none quite as deadly as this. "There's nothing you could say that would make me do it," he whispered darkly.

Elias wasn't grinning. For the first time in his life, he seemed serious. "Would you rather I call Peter? He'll actually try to kill him. I was being merciful, Martin. If you do it, he'll be safer. Peter doesn't love him."

Martin's ears rang. There had always been the implication that Elias wanted him to mark Jon. Why else hire an avatar of the Lonely? But something about knowing it was true- Martin had always held firm that Elias and Peter would be great parents if they weren't so evil, but he could feel that conviction fading.

"Hey, Elias?" Martin said.

Maybe Elias looked guilty, or maybe he looked smug. Martin couldn't really focus on expressions at the moment. The room was probably freezing. "Yes, Martin?" Elias answered.

"I think I actually might hate you." And then Martin walked out the door and slammed it behind him.

***

The good news is that Martin was pretty sure he hadn't marked Jon already. The bad news is that everything Martin did made him feel like he was actively trying to. If Martin carried on like usual, he couldn't help but feel like he was tricking Jon into trusting him. If he avoided Jon- Well, that was isolation, wasn't it?

It also didn't help that Jon had tried to apologize for everything he's ever done approximately 500 fucktillion times. And- yes. Martin wasn't going to deny it. Jon was a major dick to him before Prentiss. He could admit that even if he was in love with him. Grade A asshole, skeptic Jon was.

The problem was that Martin couldn't decide what the best response was. If he accepted the apology, Jon would most likely feel obliged to spend more time with him. Bad Idea. If he declined it, Jon would probably isolate himself out of guilt or something.

It's not like he could tell Tim or Sasha, either. Tim hadn't spoken to him since he found out, which was probably for the best, and Sasha would assure him that she trusted that he would never hurt Jon. That was true. He liked Jon and Tim and Sasha. He was never very good with friends (Lonely), but he felt like he could trust them. The problem was that it wasn't his choice whether or not Jon got hurt.

Elias wasn't kidding. It could be either him or Peter who Would kill Jon. But Martin knew that Elias wouldn't call on Peter unless it was a dire situation. Even when they were married, Peter had no qualms vocalizing what a bad idea the Watcher's Crown was. So Martin would just have to wait it out until the last second. Maybe he could find some way to protect Jon from Peter, or Jon would be too strong at that point to just be pulled into the Lonely.

He still didn't know what he wanted to do until them. He didn't like avoiding Jon all together, but he had other friends to keep him from being isolated. Hence he had decided, for the time being, to stay as far away from Jon as he could. It was more difficult, now that he actually Worked in the Archives, but he was doing fine. Taking his lunch break at weird times, avoiding any conversation not pertaining to work, and so on and so forth. Basically, what Tim was employing to avoid Martin, Martin then used to stay far away from Jon.

Martin had already played the avoiding game before. He had been taking any chance he could to stay out of the Archives. But that was mainly out of respect. He got that everything was a lot, and the others weren't raised on it. He didn't want them to feel like they had to talk to him. Now Martin wanted them to feel like they couldn't talk to him.

This had worked for a couple weeks. Martin had almost dared to hope that even Sasha had given up on trying to get him to talk. Then something interesting happened.

Martin had gotten in early that day. He'd been testing that out for a couple days now. It meant he had to spend time when he and Jon were the only ones in the Archives, considering Jon gets to work at like 5:00 AM, but it lessened the likelihood of being invited to hang after work if he left a little early. Usually, the first few hours before the others got there, Jon would come out of his office every 10 minutes and give him puppy eyes. That was as much as he ever dared to do. Today was different.

Martin had gotten in at about 5:45 that day. He wasn't even all the way through the door before Jon grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into his office.

"Jon? What's wrong?" Martin asked, only slightly frantic. Had the NotThem gotten down here? Was he okay? Oh god, what if the NotThem already got him? How could he be sure that this was Jon?

Before Martin could spiral too far, Jon grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing Martin to look him in the eyes. "You've been avoiding me. Why?"

Martin had never been compelled. Jon had never wanted to know anything about him that badly and Elias drew very strange lines when it came to parenting. He had held firm that Martin should never feel forced to tell him anything, magic or otherwise. The fucking weirdo was willing to force Martin to kill his crush. But not to tell him what he wants for dinner. Martin decided he wasn't a giant fan of the sensation of words being forced out of him, but at the same time, Jon didn't know what he was doing. Nevertheless, compelling isn't something people can just resist, so Martin told him.

#the magnus archives #the magpod #tma #tma fic #fanfic #martin blackwood #tma martin #elias bouchard #tma elias #tw swearing #tw self isolation #Fuck Elias Bouchard #All my homies hate Elias Bouchard #jonmartin

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