#Slight Canon Divergence

[ddanny03]

Avatar The Way of Water SPOILERS

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I am so freaking sad about Neteyam's death, I had to write this to get the pain out of my chest. It's not perfect. Most of it sticks to the original scene, but with a self insert and a bit of fluff followed by angst, like, a lot of it. So if you're into it, enjoy. :) <3

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I heard them before I saw them.

I was waiting with Jake for Neteyam and Lo'ak to come back, guns in hand watching the perimeter, inwardly cursing Quaritch's existence for the destruction he caused as I watched the sky people's ship burn, dead animals around it.

They took the longest time, and my worry grew with each heartbeat. As I was about to ask Jake to contact them, I heard them. Crying, screaming for Jake's help.

I whipped around instantly, running a short distance in their direction to the edge of the water, and only as they got closer did I notice the trail of red clouds dancing with the water. My heart not only stopped, it cracked as soon as I realised Neteyam was holding his chest crying, barely breathing.

I dropped my weapons and jumped into the water without a second thought, reaching for them, for him. Lo'ak reached behind him and managed to get half of Neteyam's weight on me so I could get him off the ilu, which Tsireya was trying to keep steady while she sobbed like I've never seen before. My own tears weren't far behind. But I had to get Neteyam out of the water to help him, which was enough distraction to keep the tears at bay, although the panic was still there.

Lo'ak's panic was much more visible than mine. Frantic, shouting 'watch his head!' over and over again, even after we got Neteyam out of the water, only stopping after I held his head on my lap as I assessed the wound.

Jake lifted him slightly to look at the exit wound on his back, and paled significantly. 'No, no, no, please, no' he said, and I knew by his reaction and Neteyam's slow blinking that he didn't have much longer left. The realisation felt like the air from my lungs was sucked out without a warning, leaving me gasping and choking up. Jake held his hands, ordering Neteyam to look at his eyes, Lo'ak put pressure on his wound, even if it was useless. Tsireya stood behind Lo'ak, trying to get him to calm down and realise not much could be done. During the chaos, Neytiri landed behind me and descended from her ikran, having the same reaction as her husband as soon as she saw Neteyam lying on the ground. Panicking, covered with ash from the fire with trails of tears marking light paths down her cheeks, she dropped to her knees holding her son's left hand.

'Dad, I want to go home' Neteyam said, heavy-breathing, still looking at his father as I begged him to keep his eyes open, caressing his wet hair, moving it out of his face and wiping his tears.

Jake was sobbing, reassuring his son that they would go home soon, to not to worry. Quickly exchanging a look with me and Neytiri, then looking away as tears slid down his face relentlessly. He wasn't going to make it back. I looked back down, unable to keep my attention on anything else but the piece of my heart which I held on my lap fiercely, like a lifeline keeping me lucid.

Neteyam looked up at me and paused, lifting a heavy hand slowly and placing it on my cheek, then moving it to the back of my neck softly pulling my head down to his. I placed my forehead against his and paused. He then whispered 'Oel ngati kameie' with a strong look on his face as his eyes locked with mine. My tears flooded like a river and sobs closed up my throat, but I still managed to repeat the sentence back to him. 'I love you, I love you so much, please don't leave me 'Teyam'.

He smiled at the nickname, and his chest went still as he stared into my eyes.

I called his name, moving my legs underneath him and gently shaking his shoulders with both hands, and when he didn't respond Neytiri let out a blood-curling scream, followed by shouts of his name and gentle pulls of his hands by both of his parents.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and when Neytiri took the other half of my soul in her arms away from me I couldn't move. I could feel endless rivers of tears pour down my face, but other than that I couldn't feel much of anything other than the cold that overtook my body as soon as his skin wasn't in contact with mine.

Tsireya hurried towards me holding me by my shoulders. I didn't realise I was falling back until she caught me. My eyes turned to tunnel vision, Neteyam's face being the light at the end. There was this very annoying ringing in my ears I couldn't seem to get rid of, no matter how much Tsireya spoke to me and whispered reassuring words next to me, though they seemed to work more for herself than for me. The only words of reassurance that ever worked on me fell behind the cold lips of the boy currently being rocked back and forth in his crying mother's arms. Now I had a Neteyam sized hole blown through the middle of my life, a life that was meaningless without him to brighten it.

Halfway through my state of shock, I hear a whisper of Quaritch's voice through Jake's earpiece. I couldn't tell what he said, but I managed to guess by the shift on Jake's face that it had to do with the ship on fire as he turned to look at it. Neytiri had placed Neteyam's body on the ground a few seconds ago and was currently running her hands along his cheeks as she cried and begged him to open his eyes, the same eyes that were forever engraved on my brain, his name branded on my soul and his voice the only melody I will ever love. His face as he told me 'I see you' plays in a loop in my brain.

Jake stood and put his hands on Neytiri's shoulders. 'He has our daughters, we have to go.' My ears perked up and I stood with him. Neytiri only looked at him and sobbed harder. 'Neytiri please. I need you. Strong heart, remember? He has our daughters, we have to get them back. I need you with me.' Neytiri sighed, then looked back at Neteyam. I did too, and then we looked at each other. A shade of understanding crossing her eyes, both our shoulders slightly dropping at the momentary comfort we shared as we realised we felt the same pain. She nodded at me, a stronger look on her face. I nodded back, and we both turned to look at Jake. He gave us a pained look and then called Tsireya's name, who was still standing behind me. 'I need you to stay with Neteyam, we're going to get Kiri and Tuk back.' Tsireya immediately nodded in agreement, wiping the still-flowing tears from her face as she turned to walk towards Neteyam's body. I expected my heart to crack once more as I looked at him, but instead I felt anger as my eyes drifted towards the wound in his chest, anger which settled in my bones and festered, making me vibrate with scalding hot rage as I imagined Kiri and Tuk in the same filthy hands that viciously stole Neteyam's life, and a new sense of purpose willed my legs and eyes to move away from him and focus on finding my weapons. Once I did, I equipped them almost mechanically. Tucking my spear into its belt strapped over my shoulder and secured on my back, then bending over to pick up the gun Jake had trusted me with, checking that the bullets were loaded into the chamber before I slung the strap over my head and left the gun to rest on my hip, just like Jake taught me. He who had looked out for me once me and his children became close, treating me as one of his own, and protected me once hell broke loose. He had my eternal thanks for bringing Neteyam into my life, a life I now owed to him, and would gladly risk if it means saving his family the same way his son saved my soul.

I approach the edge of the water and jump in, calling to my ilu as Neytiri mounts her ikran and Jake waits for us already on his skimwing. Once Txo'nari reaches me I quickly make tsaheylu and we head straight to the burning ship side to side, ready to save our family.

#neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar spoilers #i cant stop crying #hurt #angst #neteyam x female reader #self insert #slight canon divergence

[atths--twice]

Another Chance

What if there WAS something on the tape Mulder brought back from Puerto Rico?

Fictober day 5. Prompt #28- I may not get another chance to say this.

Longstreet Motel Washington, D.C.

“I may not have the X-Files, Scully, but I still have my work,” Mulder said, standing up and walking around the small table to plug in his headphones. “And I still have you.” 

She looked at him, shocked by the words he had spoken so bravely. He did not look at her, his focus on his task, and she wondered what he was thinking. 

“And I still have myself,” he said as he walked back and sat down with a sigh. 

She could not look at him, too many thoughts suddenly crowding in her mind. 

“For all that it’s worth,” he said quietly and bitterly and then she did look at him. 

“Mulder-” she began, but he cut her off. 

“I know what I saw. I know what happened.” 

“I know you do.” 

“It was there. I know it was.” 

“Mulder-”

“I’m gonna go get some coffee,” he said, standing up so suddenly, she pulled back in surprise. “I’ll… I just need...” 

He walked out without finishing his sentence and Scully sat in the silence of the small room. She let out a deep breath as she rose from the chair and sat in the one he had vacated. 

She stared at the reel he had been so intent on bringing back to show the proof recorded upon it. But there was nothing, only hissing silence. 

“Oh… what if it’s…” 

She quickly put the reel back on, a thought suddenly occurring to her. Starting at the ending of the tape instead of the beginning, she listened closely and waited, her heart thumping in anticipation of the possibility there could be something on it. 

When it made noise, she jumped back placing a hand on her chest. 

“Shit,” she breathed, glancing at the tape and then the door, wondering if she should find Mulder or let it play through before she told him. She did not want to get his hopes up, so she decided to see what she discovered first. 

High pitched screeching forced her to turn down the volume as she stared at the reel and then covered her ears. It only lasted a few seconds and then it was silent again, allowing her to uncover her ears. 

Then words began to be spoken, garbled and backwards, the pitch low and then high-as though someone or something was messing with the speed of it. She heard… Bach? Was that right? It was a short snippet and she leaned closer to hear more. 

“Scully.” 

She jumped back, looking at the door expecting to see him standing there and ready to tell him what she had found, but he was not there. She frowned, confused as to what she had heard, before it was said again. 

“Scully.” 

Her name. Coming from the reel in Mulder’s voice. 

It was not backwards and it was clearer than anything else she had heard. She drew in a breath as she leaned forward again. 

“I don’t know what to make of all of this. To explain what happened to Jorge. I don’t know and you’re not here to help me with figuring it out. You’re gone. They took you from me.” 

Scully exhaled as her mouth dropped open and she felt tears stinging her eyes. 

“I don’t know how to explain what I’ve seen. There’s something…” 

She leaned forward further when she heard his voice grow distant, as though he had walked away from the recorder. 

“I feel it in the air. Something thick and heavy. Like a… like a storm is coming, but it’s not a storm. I can’t explain it.” 

Bach began to play again, backwards and at a faster speed than she knew it to be and she leaned back, confused. 

“Scully,” Mulder said on the reel, clear as day, cutting through the music and closer than he had been before. “Scully, I…” He sighed and she leaned in, wanting to capture every word. “I feel like I’m far away, not just in distance but… away. Something is coming and I don’t know what it is. If it’s like what happened to Jorge…”

There was a scuffling noise and then he was breathing softly. 

“He’s still covered in goosebumps. I don’t know how to explain it. I need to… make a report. To document it all.” 

Screeching again and she quickly covered her ears, breathing heavily. It lasted only seconds and then fell silent. 

“If I don’t make it, if I…” Mulder said, close again, so close and Scully uncovered her ears to listen. “I may not get another chance to say this… but I want you to know, Scully. I want you to know how much you have meant to me. You’re faith in me. Your friendship. I want you to know that I… I haven’t had anyone in my corner in a long time and you… Thank you, Scully.” 

“GREETINGS ON BEHALF OF THE PEOPLE OF OUR PLANET,” the tape suddenly shouted, high pitched and not backwards like everything but Mulder’s voice had been and she called out in surprise, her hands on her ears again. 

Tears fell as she heard garbled words, Bach, and Mulder crying out as machines whirred and then silence so loud, she would swear she could hear her heart beating. 

Breathing heavily, she slowly uncovered her ears and wiped her wet cheeks. The tape was nearly finished and just as she was going to shut it off, sure that it was done, she heard Mulder say her name one last time. 

“Scully,” he said softly and then the tape ran out, silence falling once again. 

“Okay, I got you a coffee too, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay,” Mulder said as he opened the door, carefully holding the two cups. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to be here once I start the surveillance. It’s some of the most disturbing conversations you’ve ever heard.” 

She watched him as he set the cups down and then looked at her with a forced smile that turned into a frown when he saw her face. 

“Scully? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong? Did you accidentally listen to them talking?” He looked at his headphones and then the volume button, frowning again. “Scully?” 

“Mulder… you need…” she said, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “You need to hear this. It’s… there is something on the tape.” 

“Scully…” 

“No! There is. I just heard it.” 

“What?” he asked, not sounding convinced. She nodded as she set it up with shaking hands. “How did you…” 

“I tried playing it backwards,” she explained, turning it back on as he stood beside her waiting to hear it. “It just takes a few seconds. It’s loud at first, so you might want to cover your ears.” 

“Scully, there’s nothing on there. We would have heard it no matter how it was played.” 

“It was here, Mulder. I heard it. I wouldn’t make that up. You just have to wait. It’s almost there. Just wait…” She was breathing hard again, the wait becoming too much. “I don’t understand. I just heard it.” She looked at him and she saw sadness in his eyes. “I swear to you that I heard it.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said softly. “But was it here?” He touched her ear and then her head, just as she had done to him. “Or here?” 

“I heard it,” she said, shaking her head. “Heard it with my ears. There was Bach playing. And loud voices and machines whining. And you.” She looked at him, remembering his words. “I heard you.” 

“What did I say?” 

“You said…” She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

They took you from me.

“You thanked me for being in your corner,” she said, opening her eyes. He breathed in sharply and stood to his full height. “Do you remember saying that?” 

“I do. But I said it into my personal recorder. Not into anything that would be on this tape.” He looked at her and then at the reel still running silently. “There’s nothing there.” 

“Then how did I hear it?” she whispered, also looking at the reel. 

“I don’t know,” he answered, staring at her. “How did you understand it if it was being played backwards?” 

“It wasn’t playing backwards when you were speaking. I could understand you perfectly.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“No,” she said softly. “No, it doesn’t. Maybe I thought I heard it. Maybe I… maybe I heard what I wanted to hear.” But she knew that was not true. She had heard something. 

“What else did you hear?” 

“Your worry. That something was coming. I heard your fear that you would die like Jorge.” 

“How is it possible?” he whispered, shaking his head as he once again looked at the silent reel. “It’s blank.”    “I don’t know how to explain it, but I heard it. I know I did.” She stared at him almost defiantly, daring him to contradict her. 

“When I was there, it played back what I had spoken into the recorder. Like an echo. A slow, creepy echo.” 

“It was you. Clear as I can hear you talking to me right now.” 

They stared at each other as the tape ran out and then he sighed as he shook his head. 

“I need to get back to the surveillance,” he said quietly. 

“Mulder…” she said and he shook his head again. 

“Gotta take my medicine,” he said bitterly and she sighed. “I’m lucky I wasn’t fired.” 

She stood up and let him have his chair back. Picking up the cup of dark coffee, she handed it to him. She took the other one with her as she sat back down on the chair.

“I can stay here for awhile,” she said when he looked over at her. 

“You might change your mind once I turn on the audio,” he warned and she gave him a small smile.  

He flipped it on and watched her face as a conversation began about lap dances versus table dances. She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes briefly as he shook his head. 

She reached over and covered his hand with hers, squeezing gently and he squeezed back. 

“I don’t know how you heard it, but I meant what I said,” he told her quietly, grasping her hand as she had attempted to let go. “Every word of it. Thank you for being in my corner.” He squeezed her hand once more and then released it. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied and he nodded. 

He glanced at the reel and then at her. 

“One more time? Just to be sure?”

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee as he readied the reel, hoping that this time he would hear something. 

#fictober23 #fictober 2023 #xffictober23 #the x files #fanfic #prompt #partners #separated partners #season 2 #little green men #slight canon divergence

[a-boros-named-seamus]

As the Citadel fell around him, Shepard thought about the Normandy. About every member of his crew. About Kaidan.

🎵 “It started out as a feeling,”

He remembered meeting the man, just before Eden Prime. Fighting aside him and Ash, with him on that last desperate sprint to the Conduit.

🎵 “Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before.”

And then there was Alchera. Promising Kaidan he would be fine just as soon as he got joker to a pod. Struggling to breathe as his suit vented into the void.

🎵 “Now we're back to the beginning,”

And then there was Horizon. That terrible day. Kaidan looking at him like a traitor, a puppet dancing to the Illusive Man's tune, had broken something in his heart that he hadn't known was there. He thought of Kaidan when he destroyed the Collector Base

🎵 “But just because they can't feel it too, doesn't mean that you have to forget.”

Mars had been... hard. He had desperately wanted Kaidan to trust him again, had tried so hard to convince him, but there was little time for talking, and he wasn't comfortable baring his heart in front of Liara and her obvious, unwelcomed, crush on him.

Nevertheless the pain in his heart drove him to try. And it had been working, step by step.

🎵 “Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light.”

And then Eva Core had tried to collapse Kaidan's skull. He'd barely been able to tear him away from Kaidan's bedside, let alone sleep. And when he had slept, his dreams had been full of the words of the dead. The Vista of the Citadel's wards arcing out if the Widow Nebula had been as beautiful as ever, but it had been hard to think about anything but the paramedics EDI had called to meet them in the docking bay. Watching them take Kaidan away had filled him with a profound sense of dread.

🎵 “It's just a feeling and no one knows yet,”

"Maybe some things get better with age"

"Or maybe you have"

Kaidan chuckled. "Are you flirting with me, Commander? Wait, wait! Don't tell me. Let me live in the illusion"

Shepard's heart had skipped a beat there. He'd been going out on a limb and kaidan had been happy. Had encouraged him.

There was still an ache deep within his heart, but it was closing.

🎵 “You'll come back when it's over,”

Kaidan lowering his gun there on that Citadel had healed that secret hurt that he'd been nursing since Horizon. Their conversations on Mars and in Huerta had helped, but this one absolute moment of trust closed it forever, leaving naught but a memory.

🎵 “And then that word grew louder and louder 'til it was a battle cry,”

That date, that 'sanity check' at Apollo's Cafe. It had been... oh god it had been perfect. They'd both danced around the subject, just a bit, but in the end they'd come together and stuck that way.

And later, at the car lot, when he'd been running from CAT-6 and relying on his barriers and wits. He'd walked through a door to find Kaidan standing there in his armor and toying with mercs, and his relief, adrenaline, fear, and love had all mixed together to make that tableau the single hottest thing he had ever seen.

🎵 “All you can do is try to know who your friends are as you head off to the war,”

His thoughts went to that last party on the Citadel. All of his living crewmates had been there sharing moments both raucous and quiet. It had done his soul good. The cracks that had started with abandoning Ashley had finally begun to close. His favorite part had been the morning after. He'd woken up next to Kaidan and gone on to find his crew enjoying the morning quiet.

🎵 “Let your memories grow stronger and stronger ‘til they're before your eyes,”

The last memory was that of Kaidan coming up to his quarters just before the assault on Cerberus. Good drinks, a good talk, and even better sex. It had been the perfect night, even as death's specter loomed.

And then, he returned to present.

🎵 “Which then grew into a hope, which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word,”

Just breathe. He repeated it to himself over and over, his cybernetics straining to keep him alive beneath the rubble. He could see teams searching the wreckage, but couldnt call out, because he had to focus on breathing.

He'd managed to tap into every eezo nodule in his body, pushing his biotincs to their limit on order to break his fall and keep himself from being utterly crushed, and it had still been just barely enough. But there was hope for him yet

As he started to slip away, he heard rescuers drawing close.

"Call the Normandy. We found him alive"

🎵 “No need to say goodbye,”

He awoke to several familiar sensations. The rubbing of soft sheets. The scent of flowers. Warm sunlight on his skin. A monitor beeping in time with his heart.

"Shepard?"

Kaidan was there next to him, holding some sort of report and looking dreadful. He also looked beautiful. Like the dawn after a long, cold night.

They spent a few quiet moments of relief together until EDI, who had of course hacked the hospital to keep an eye on his heart monitor, ushered everyone in. Or, well. All of them that could fit in a private hospital room.

The rains had passed, a beautiful new day had dawned, and they were all here to see it.

#mass effect #mass effect 2 #mass effect 3 #kaidan alenko #commander shepard #mshenko #mshep #mshepard #m!shenko #hurt/comfort #songfic #the call regina spektor #slight canon divergence #i wrote half of this at 1 am and half of it just now and it came out decently solid. #my writing #seamus writes

[skylariumrose]

The Mummy: Divergence AU

Summary:

The 'when' and 'how' you meet the people destined for your life changes the course of it.

But how, and how much?

I wrote this as a gift for the awesome Ace! for the end of the year and had so much fun writing it! I’ll be updating throughout this week and next so keep an eye out for it 😉

#my fic #secret santa #gift exchange #the mummy #rick o'connell #evelyn carnahan #ardeth bay #Medjai characters #different first meeting #slight canon divergence #Rick/Evelyn/Ardeth #polyamory

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Giving Birth to Eric Northman's child

"I don't think I should be here." Says Eric. "I think you should. It is your child, too." You say. "And I need your support." You look him in the eye. "But my love ... the blood." He rasps. "You'll be fine. I believe in you." You take his hand. "Thank you, for your trust." Eric looks you in the eye.

You flinch as another contraction courses through your muscles. It is like someone is kicking your tailbone. "Epidural?" The nurse asks tentatively. Eric seeks your eyes with his. "Do you think you need it?" He asks softly. "I would like it." You reply softly. "Then you will have it." He replies. No expense is spared, of course.

He takes you gently by the hand.

The anaesthetist is quickly called and within minutes you have to bend over and relax as best you can. "You might have to glamour me, I can't find my calmth." You tell Eric. But he shakes his head. "You can do it, I have faith in you." He murmurs. You can help a little fluster. So much trust is almost too hot to handle. You are not quite sure what to do with yourself.

Another contraction painfully ripples through the muscles of your back. You whimper and give Eric's hand a squeeze. Eric makes a soothing sound and lifts his free hand to stroke your face. "I am already so proud of you." He whispers. You look away from, a bit bashful.

The epidural is quite swift to take hold of you. You feel that you can relax again. Eric helps you settle in, seeing as you are not dilated enough yet. He sings softly to you in Swedish while he helps you get comfortable. His singing makes you feel calm and safe.

A nurse comes to check up on you after a little while. "Can I check your dilation?" She asks gently. You nod queitly. It is not like you feel much down there now anyway. You barely feel it when she carefully inserts her fingers to see how far along you are. Beside the bed, Eric tenses, though. You quirk a brow at him. But he shakes his head.

He waits with his reply until the nurse is out of the room again.

"I don't like it when other people touch you." He pouts. You can't help but laugh. "You'll have to let them, tonight." You say. Eric rolls his eyes. "I know." He huffs.

It takes a little while longer for you to start feeling a strange sort of tension just below your tailbow. A bit like you have to go to the toilet. You squirm as best as you can. Eric makes eye contact. "Are you alright?" He asks softly. You shake your head feebly. The tension is all you can focus on.

Eric stands up with a jerk. "Nurse!" He yells, in a commanding tone of voice. A nurse comes running right away. "Something is wrong!" Eric barks. The poor nurse begin to check the monitors you are hooked up to in quite a hurry. You reach out and gently catch her by her wrist. "I .. I think it is time." You mutter to her. "I'll have to check your dilation again." She informs you.

Eric sits back down.

The nurse phones the midwife.

You reach for Eric's hand. "What can I do?" He asks. "I don't know." You whisper. You twine your fingers with his and try to get comfortable. But there is no more comfortable.

"Mrs Northman. It is time to push." The midwife informs. You give Eric a look. He nods gently. "You can do this." He whispers. "Thank you." You whisper. "Now push." The nurse urges softly. You take a careful breath in and focus all your energy on your pelvic muscles. You push with all your might. It hurts fiercely and you quickly feel your energy eb away. "Well done, take a deep breath and give me the next push." The midwife says.

"She needs to get up." Eric says.

Both the nurse and the midwife give him a startled look. "She is working against gravity." Eric says. "Her legs are numbed." The nurse cautions. "I'll hold her up." Eric growls. The nurse lowers your bed a little and Eric helps you crouch. "I've got you." He murmurs. "It hurts." You whimper. "I know, it will be over before you know it." Eric replies.

"Push!" The midwife all but orders. You brace yourself on Eric's shoulders. And then you bear down. You push with all you have. "Very good." The midwife says loudly. You take a deep breath and go straight into the next push. Your body tells you to hurry it up. Rest is for when the baby is out. You push with all the energy and power you have. "Good, very good." Eric encourages you. "You need to pace yourself." The midwife cautions. "No, I don't." You feebly, stubbornly disagree.

"Don't talk, just push." Eric hisses. "I know." You whisper.

And you push, even though the midwife and nurse try to make you slow down. Eric whispers praises in Swedish. The pain turns into a fierce sort of burn, when the baby's head almost erupts. "I need help." You whisper. Eric nods, understanding what you mean. He opens his arm with one fang. You lean in to lick up the few droplets that well up from the small puncture wound. The midwife sends you a disgusted look, but the nurse seems unphased.

Eric's blood gives you a burst of energy.

You push with renewed strength and before long the baby's head has fully erupted. "One last push." The nurse encourages you.

She catches the baby and Eric helps you lay down again. "I am so proud of you." He whispers. The nurse places the baby on your chest. "We have a son." Eric murmurs. He leans in and kisses you on the forehead.

He gives you a little bit more of his blood, so your body can heal. You lean back in the cushions and behold your newborn, who is already nosing for milk at your chest.

#eric northman #eric northman x reader #alexander skarsgard #true blood #slight canon divergence #I don't recall TB ever made Dhampires a thing

[thenicestthingiveseen]

I Want You Back

The stories are pouring out of me. Here’s a getting back together story where Harry does his eighth year at Hogwarts.

AO3 or read below

Finding their way back to each other takes longer than Ginny would’ve liked. Especially considering the fact that Harry decided to come back to Hogwarts for his “eighth year” while Ron didn’t. That has to mean something doesn’t it? She’d asked herself, and Hermione, this question constantly. And for someone who spent as much time with Harry as Hermione did, she was utterly useless with her shrugged shoulders and non-answers.

Everything was the same. But oh so different. It was maddening. Romilda noticed though. As did a slew of other girls - it felt like the whole school knew.

She says she never gave up on him, but if she’s being honest with herself, only when she’s in her dorm, hidden behind the curtains in the dead of night, she’s so close to giving up. She’s not angry. She doesn’t think she can ever be angry at him. But she’s frustrated and confused. She knew he was giving her time to mourn her brother and he needed time to mourn - well, everything.

But that was months ago.

—

The notice for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year is taunting her as she stares at announcement board. When Martin asks her, she hears herself saying yes without really thinking about it.

That spreads through Hogwarts like Fiendfyre.

Harry doesn’t change the way he acts towards her, but she’s noticed the confused and somewhat disapproving looks Hermione shoots her way.

“He’s given absolutely no indication that he wants to be with me as anything more than a friend, so you can keep your looks to yourself,” Ginny hisses in the library two nights later.

—

Hogsmeade with Martin is nothing to write home about. Not that she’s ever written home about a boyfriend before. She doesn’t let him kiss her. She barely lets him hold her hand. She tells him she had a nice time and after they’ve left Honeydukes heads off to the Hog’s Head - alone. It’s where Hermione “casually” mentioned she’d be with Harry.

And Ron and George apparently.

Harry shoots her a lopsided grin. Her heart almost stops. Ginny mentally shakes herself and orders a hot chocolate with a shot of firewhiskey as they chat. She didn’t realize how much she missed her brothers until she finds herself unable to stop from laughing at their tales of work and life outside of Hogwarts. Ron’s helping George in the shop until Harry graduates and they’ll enter the Auror program together.

They slowly make their way back towards the gates leading to the castle and Ginny thinks to herself that it’s nice to see George happy. The past six months have been all about putting themselves back together and figuring out how they fit together as a family and a Wizarding community. 

She’s pulled out of her little world when Hermione asks her how her time with Martin was. She hears herself respond that it was fine. She can’t believe she forgot about him so quickly. But then again, she can. He wasn’t anything special. For all the time she’s spent trying to figure Harry out, she’s been essentially existing in a trance. Not that she’s losing pockets of time like her first year, but her mind is almost always preoccupied with the state of her relationship. Or lack thereof. 

Ron gives her a weird look. She doesn’t think much of it and tries to keep walking. Ron’s grabbed her shoulder and let everyone walk ahead of them.

“What’re you playing at, Ginny?” he asks bluntly. Ginny scoffs, “whatever could you mean dear brother?” 

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re going on dates with blokes that aren’t Harry?”

“Well it’s not like he asked me! Besides, I wouldn’t even call it a date!” Ginny spits.

“He came back to Hogwarts for you!” 

“Well, until he gives me ANY indication about how he feels about me, I’m free to do as I please.” After that Ginny yanks her arm out of Ron’s grasp, pushes through Harry, Hermione, and George who are trying to pretend like they didn’t hear the argument behind them, and stalks back to the castle. 

“You didn’t have to say anything.” Harry mumbles as they say good-bye to Ron and George at the gate.

--

Harry and Hermione are sitting on the chesterfield in front of the fireplace whispering furiously when the portrait hole opens 2 hours later, revealing a red faced Ginny. They stop and look at her, Harry looks like he’s about to go over to her, when Hermione gives him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Ginny doesn’t even look at them before strides to the stairs for the girl’s dormitory. 

“Let me talk to her first, Harry. She might still be angry and I’d hate for her to lash out at you when neither one of you is technically doing anything. Though, this is exactly why I told you you needed to talk to her before we came back to school.” Hermione says as she grabs her book from the floor. 

“I was - I was trying to give her time.” Harry says miserably.

“Well, there’s such thing as too much.” With that, Hermione heads to the stairs. She turns around before she walks. There’s so much sympathy in her eyes, “good night, Harry.”

With that, Harry’s left staring at the dying fire.

--

“If you’re here to scold me, I really don’t want to hear it.” Ginny says with her back to the mirror, “and honestly, I don’t want to talk about this with you, Hermione. Especially after I’ve asked time and again for ANY clue as to where his bloody head is at.”

Sighing, Hermione sits down at the foot of Ginny’s bed. She draws the curtains around them and casts a silencing spell so that they can speak freely without disturbing their sleeping roommates.

Sucking in a breath, Hermione lets her know that she isn’t there to scold her. Quite the opposite actually, she spent the last few hours scolding Harry, she tells her with a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s strange not to be yelling at him about schoolwork. But, I told him he needs to talk to you. I’ve been telling him needs to talk to you,” she says meaningfully. At this, Ginny turns over to look at her. Hermione takes this as a good sign and plows on, “I’ve been telling him to talk to you for ages, really. I still think you two should talk, I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bat bogey him or something.” Hermione finishes with a chuckle. 

“Well, I thought about it. That’s why I didn’t come back for a while.” Ginny admits sheepishly. 

Smiling Hermione says, “I’m pretty sure he’s downstairs still. Listen to him.”

Ginny gets up. But before she leaves Hermione says, “but make sure he listens to you too. He owes you that.” Ginny nods resolutely and heads back down to the common room.

--

Ginny always considered herself a confident, self assured, strong, pragmatic girl. She rarely cries. But her brothers have always had a knack for reducing her to tears when she leasts expects it. As she walks down the stairs she reminds herself she did nothing wrong walking around Main St. with Martin. As much as she prides herself on her ability to read Harry Potter, she’s not that great Legilimency. 

Harry’s still there. Just like Hermione promised. She stands at the foot of the stairs willing herself to finally have this conversation.

“Hey,” she breathes out. Harry’s head snaps towards the stairs so fast she’s afraid he’s given himself whiplash. 

He looks miserable. Which, oddly, makes Ginny feel better about the whole situation and allows her to walk fully into the common room and sit next to him on the couch. They both stare at the fire. 

After what feels like centuries, Harry clears his throat, “I’m sorry about Ron. I told him he shouldn’t have gotten on your case like that after you walked away. It wasn’t fair to you.” He’s very deliberately not looking at her. She sniffs in acknowledgement. 

He’s still not looking at her. Minutes pass. The crackling of the dying embers is the only sound in the room.

Ginny shifts so that she can face him, “I get why you did what you did. I didn’t like it, but I get it -” Harry opens his mouth to interject, “can you just, please, listen to me! Just this once, please.” Harry nods.

Ginny sets her shoulders and plows on, “OK. I’m not going to beg you for anything, butI’m going to be honest with you, so I need you to be honest with, yeah?”

“At first, I thought you were giving me time to mourn Fred. Which I allowed, but then it was August, and then we were here, and I dunno, it just seemed like you were content to just go on with life as usual. I told myself that you choosing to come to Hogwarts instead of rushing off to Auror training meant something. That it meant you felt the way i felt about us. But then it was October and nothing. It was like your sixth year again, but it wasn’t and I’ve been so confused! I’m not needy enough to beg you to be with me, but I do think I deserve to just know point blank if we’re just friends and those last few weeks of your 6th year were what they were. I deserve that.” Ginny finishes and takes a shuddering breath. Finally. She’s let it all out. Everything she’d been holding in for months. 

Harry has the decency to look a bit ashamed. “I was counting the days ‘til I could see you again. Like a child counting down until Christmas, y’know? When I would be on watch last year, I’d check for your name on the map.” 

Ginny’s heart aches. 

“You’re precious to me, Ginny. So unbelievably precious.” When she doesn’t say anything, he turns and finally catches her eye. He looks like he’s going to cry, but he pushes on, “I told myself that you needed time. I needed time too, and I told myself, if I came back to Hogwarts we could have time together. But as time passed on, you seemed to be doing great, I thought you wanted to be my friend. Thought you realized I wasn’t worth the trouble.” 

“If you think I’d ever love someone after you then either I’ve failed in showing you how much you mean to me or you’re a bloody moron.” Ginny says. Harry laughs, but he’s cut off when Ginny lunges towards him and pulls him into a searing kiss.

Harry pulls back and breathlessly asks, “Martin?”

“Pfft. I wouldn’t even hold his hand. He did buy me some Sugar Quills though. I should find him and give him a quick snog.” Ginny jokingly makes to leave.

“Never.” Harry says as he pulls her back into another bruising kiss.  

This is what they’d both been missing.

#hinny fanfic #postwar #harry potter #harry ginny #harry and ginny #harry x ginny #drabble #gettingbacktogether #hinny au #slight canon divergence

[clownqueenofprom]

The End

No these beginnings will never have anything to do with the story. Except for this one i guess

Did you know that The Lady Bone Demon never actually lies? Well, that was a fun idea to play with for the third installment of the “Everything is exactly the same but The Lady Bone Demon destroys everyone with facts and logic”!

As Xiaotian scanned his surroundings, he also made time to wipe his forehead free of sweat.

The Spider Queen’s lair was unsurprisingly hot, as it was kind of a sewer. All he needed to do was find Pigsy his precious sign and get out of there.

The thought was all so simple- until an eerie, cold breeze brushed by his ear.

His head immediately perked up, a shiver grazing the hair on his arms and neck, searching for the source.

Lo and behold- walking by him with the grace of an ancient empress and the footsteps of a shadow was a young girl- dressed in traditional clothing, and ignoring him in full.

It took a moment for him to understand what had just happened, and as soon as he did, the time he took wiping off his sweat became useless as he stumbled after her.

“H-Hey!” He called, tripping over himself and his words as he attempted to keep up with the dark-haired girl. “Wait up!”

For a person with such short legs, she walked incredibly fast.

She cleanly ignored his request, as if she didn’t hear him at all. Instead, she continued on her merry way. She certainly seemed to be fine, but Xiaotian still didn’t feel right about leaving a kid unattended in a sewer that housed murderous spider demons.

“Kid!” He yelled after her, only to be ignored again. He scrambled to catch up to her, but only managed to do so when she suddenly stopped.

He awkwardly ran up after her, resting his hands on his knees as he painted heavily from the exhausting run. If not for the bizarre chill that seemed to follow the girl, he would have passed out from the heat by now.

“How…” he heaved, “Are you so…. FAST!?”

Again, she said nothing, stepping forward a few steps to gaze ahead of her.

He looked up, following her gaze. A gasp escaped his throat, but even he wasn’t sure what it was out of- horror? Or something as simple as surprise?

In front of him was a large golden chain tree, but carved or otherwise into the wood was a very real, very humanoid skeleton, with a ringlet hanging loosely on the skull that looked dangerously similar to the Monkey King’s cursed crown.

There were bright red Spider Lilies creeping out of the eye sockets, as if imitating blood red eyes.

He stumbled back at the sight of the enormous tree, which certainly had not been there the last several times he’d been to Spider Queen’s lair.

“W-what is this?” He asked no one in particular as he caught himself to keep from falling out of shock, the very sight of the tree haunting him.

He didn’t necessarily expect a response from the girl- only to find that for the first time, he received one.

“This is the end,” she said, tilting her head full of dark hair upwards, as if to admire the tree, before repeating the action, this time to the side. “And the beginning.”

She turned back to him, innocent dark eyes that didn’t at all fit her hardened expression observing him with intrigue. “Did he not tell you that?”

A shiver ran up his spine, making the hair on his neck stand on end at not just her words, but merely the sound of her voice.

“H-He…?” He managed to choke out. “Who… who’s he…?”

A smirk that befit a demoness of some kind graced the young girl’s delicate features. She turned back to look at the tree. “Why, him, of course.”

Xiaotian’s heart trembled in his body.

The first person that came to mind when he saw the insidious tree called both the end and the beginning was for certain his currently M.I.A master and teacher- but what could this child (or this tree, for that matter) possibly have to do with the Monkey King?

“So you really know nothing?” She hummed, tracing the trunk of the tree. “How unfortunate.”

Xiaotian took a cautious step back, holding his staff in front of him defensively as she turned around fully to face him, a placid, cool as ice smile on her face.

If Xiaotian didn’t know any better, he’d say that her eyes were aglow with an eerie blue.

“What…” he trailed off, before focusing on the girl intensively. Just like Monkey King taught you, he thinks. “What do you mean, the end?”

She expression changes only a little, with her eyes narrowing as she chuckles a little.

“Do you seek to ensure I cause no harm to any people, young Prince?” She said with a slight hum. “But can you save people from themselves?”

“What are you talking about it?” He knots his eyes together, before dropping low into a defensive position. “Who are you?”

“If you want to know,” Her eyes are aglow with a dangerous glint as she turns to her side, hands folded behind her back. “Come and find me.”

With her final dare, she turns away once more, walking straight through the tree. It dissipates as she walks through, revealing it to be an illusion- but once the tree is nothing but blue, glowing ashes lingering in the air, she is nowhere to be found.

The empty torches that had seemingly been untouched for years suddenly alit, blue fire illuminating a path in the darkness.

Whispers followed him as he silently creeped forward, following the blue torchlight into the totally-not-creepy-at-all tunnel.

“Dark clouds crowding heaven,” he heard, “Consume all that dares glow,” another voice trailed along the wall. “Bleed into the sky,”

“And let your shadow grow.”

It got to the point where he resorted to holding the staff in the crook of his arm as he covered his ears, not wanting to hear another word.

Finally, he was back into what he’d begun calling the “common room” of Spider Queen’s lair. He gasped momentarily, searching the room for any sign of the spider demons, but they were nowhere to be found.

Instead, there was only the same strange girl, staring up at a large… diagram, of sorts. It depicted a large mech the likes of which he’d never seen. He pointed his staff at her back.

“Well?” She asked, as if already having had sensed his presence. “Is the would-be hero going to attack me or not? I await your attempt.”

Pushing off on his right foot with an empowering yell, he heeded her request, brandishing his staff.

Before he could get any closer to hitting her, she vanished from view, teleporting it seemed, out of his way. Instead, his staff was dangerously close to hitting some sort of mirror instead.

His reflection in the mirror flipped through many different perspectives, but all told him the same thing, and all looked utterly terrified.

“Stop- don’t- RUN- What are you doing!?” They all seemed to be pulling out their hair, and Xiaotian quickly stumbled back, backing away from the mirror- or rather…?

“Hold on,” he whispered. “This is the trigram furnace! What is this doing here?”

To be fair, he did kind of forget about it in the whole spider demon… ordeal. He forced himself to focus. This was no time to fool around. “Trust you instincts,” he muttered to himself, blinking on his gold vision.

He turned to face the girl.

And what he saw was anything but.

#lego monkie kid #my own writing #oneshot #lady bone demon #lmk lady bone demon #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk #slight canon divergence #monkie kid #tagging is hard

[feelinprettyblue02]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Content SMP, Minecraft (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: doctor4t & astronyu Characters: Doctor4t, astronyu Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, not that much tho, Light Angst, Rat Hybrid doctor4t, Space Creature astronyu Summary:

Rat’s tail lashed back and forth. He didn’t seem to notice Astron and kept ranting. “This is the worst way this could have possibly developed and they did. I hate this server.”

Hearing all of this, Astron chose to speak up. “I wonder whose fault is that.”

#content smp #doctor4t #astronyu #fanfic #mcytblr #mcyt fanfic #slight canon divergence

[iamstartraveller776]

Tarantism with Galadriel and Halbrand, please :) (also no pressure whatsoever)

Tarantism - The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! <3 I may have fiddled with the timeline a smidgen, but I strived to be as close to canon compliant as possible with this one. There is a teensy bit of Quenya in this; I used a couple of online translators. Hopefully I didn't botch it too badly! Translation is in the end notes. This is just under 2k words.

REPRIEVE

The queen announces a fete for the eve of their departure from Númenor. Halbrand, much to Galadriel’s relief, turned up for the emergency council meeting this morning. The glance he cast in her direction was tangled with resentment and resignation, though he did his part, swearing to embark on the voyage, to unite the Southlands against the encroaching darkness. It is when the session draws to a close, after the logistics have been sorted, that Míriel mentions holding a celebration.

Galadriel frowns at the notion. Surely there are more important matters to attend to than feasting and carousing. She opens her mouth to say as much, but Halbrand speaks over her.

“We would be delighted to attend, your majesty.” He gives Galadriel a significant look, and she grudgingly swallows her protest.

“Yes, of course,” she murmurs.

He holds her gaze for a beat before addressing the rest of the group, “Well, then, if we’re finished here, it would seem that I am in need of a weapon and armor.”

Míriel calls for Elendil, but the captain is already stepping forward. “If you’ll come with me, Lord Halbrand, I’ll show you to the quartermaster.”

Halbrand raises a warning brow at Galadriel in parting. Behave. It grates on her, moreso because he guessed rightly that she would raise her objections in his absence. She would have the party set out as soon as soldiers are outfitted and cargo stored—within the hour if it were possible. What wisdom is there to start their arduous journey in the morning with crews still half-drunk from the night’s festivities?

But she keeps her counsel. She is aware of how tenuous their alliance with the Númenoreans is. Her dissenting voice—her elven voice—is more likely to shatter than strengthen it. And so she accepts Míriel’s offer to meet with her personal armorer.

The day passes quickly with the preparations. The queen graciously provides what Galadriel lacks—which is everything short of her brother’s dagger. Once her gear is packed, she makes her way to the docks to see where she might be useful. Elendil happily puts her to work inspecting the troops. Here she feels less stared at, less other, than she has since coming to these isles. She’s won the respect of the men and women who’ve trained with her. As she walks through the lines, her chest knots at their eyes gleaming with a naive hunger for glory. How many will dim into a different kind of fervor when faced with the true price of such honor? She can only hope their hearts will not fail them in that hour.

Elendil joins her after the troops are dismissed. “Shall I escort you back to the palace, mime héri?”

She cants a brow at him. “I thought I was past needing a minder.”

The corner of his mouth tips up in a small smile. “You are, but I suspect if I leave you be you will run off in search of a task that will keep you from attending the queen’s fete.”

Galadriel lets out a frustrated sigh. “I see little point in it.”

“Don’t you?” Elendil gazes at the ships. “Across the sea, many will give life and limb for a cause that isn’t theirs.”

“It is a cause that belongs to all the world,” she interjects with a bite in her tone. She tires of having to repeat herself on this matter.

He holds up a hand as if to stave off further debate. “It is, but the battle is not at our gates,” he says and then amends, “yet.” He looks toward the palace. “Tonight reminds them of what they are fighting for.”

“Be that as it may,” she replies, “the attendance of the elf they have no fondness for is hardly necessary.”

He shakes his head. “I beg to differ. Your attendance will go a long way in fostering goodwill between you and those you command.”

“Halbrand is the one who—”

“Apsene-me, mime héri,” Elendil cuts in. “While it is Lord Halbrand’s people we aid, there is no doubt who is truly leading this charge.” He steps back and bows his head. “I’ll leave you to consider it.”

Galadriel watches his retreat toward the city with a frown. Unable to deny the merit of his words—even if she does not care for the flavor of them—she resigns herself to making an appearance at the fete.

~

The celebration is clamorous, a discordant combination of music, loud conversation, boisterous laughter, and applause for the various performers. Galadriel skirts through the edge of the crowd, offering an occasional nod of encouragement to passing soldiers. She pauses to watch a fire breather and sees Halbrand beyond the flame.

He leans against the far wall with arms crossed and brow dipped in a grim contemplation that seems to mirror her own sentiments. The cloudy expression gives way to a sunny countenance when another calls to him, and he disappears from her line of sight before she can push through the throng toward him. She’s not certain why she’s compelled to seek him out. Perhaps she merely wants reassurance that he isn’t wavering from the oaths he made this morning.

Or perhaps he is the closest thing she has to a friend in this strange place.

She catches only glimpses of him throughout the evening. A flash of his arm around an officer’s shoulder as they share a laugh. Another of him paying respects to the queen. There he is clapping enthusiastically as a contortionist twists her body into an impossible shape. Now he’s by the banquet tables, popping some confection into his mouth as a pair of soldiers talk animatedly at him. She never manages to draw near, not until she spies him slip away through a darkened archway. With a parting glance at the revelers, she trails after him.

The stairs she ascends lead to a wide balcony. Halbrand stands alone at the edge, gaze fixed on the glittering night sky as he tugs at the collar of his fine tunic. He’s been scrubbed of the grime from their ordeal at sea, the soot from the forge. Beard trimmed. Hair falling in soft, shining waves. This kingly portrait is only marred by the vestiges from his tavern brawl—the scab on his lip, the bruise near his eye.

“It suits you,” she says as she approaches.

Breathing a vinegary laugh, he looks at her. “It’s what you wanted.”

She can hear the deeper implication in his brittle statement. “It’s what is right,” she says in earnest. “Do not fear taking up the mantle that has always been yours.”

He rolls his eyes. “You can spare me another rallying speech. I’m already committed.” He rests his elbows on the railing, posture sagging.

His continued reticence would prick her ire if not for the conversation they shared last night. You’re asking me to go to the one place I swore I would never return to. She can forgive his lack of zeal. She better understands it now.

A silence rests between them, entwined with the quiet refrain of far-off music. She follows his unseeing gaze to the city below. The flickering lights mirror the stars above, and she recalls briefly of the waning silver leaves of Telperion. But as ever, any memory of Valinor is fractured with the loss of Finrod.

“Will you dance tonight?”

Halbrand’s question pulls her out of her morose thoughts. “No,” she answers.

He turns to face her with curiosity in his brow. “Why not? Don’t tell me that elves never make merry.”

She’s rankled by his flippant tone. “We do when the occasion calls for it.”

He snorts. “I’d say it’s called for.”

“I disagree.”

Halbrand straightens, closes the short distance between them. “Must you always be so contrary?” he asks with a hint of irritation.

Though she has to crane her neck to keep her gaze on his, she refuses to retreat. “I could ask the same of you.”

He huffs a soft laugh and shrugs as if conceding the point. His features grow somber in the next breath. “You and I alone know the horrors that await us in the Southlands.” He offers a hand to her. “Let us forget for a moment.”

She’s nearly tempted by the plea in his eyes, but the act feels too fraught for the roles they must play. “A Man and an Elf—”

“—may do whatever they please.” He gives her a devilish grin before murmuring, “They already call me Elf-mate. A dance couldn’t do any more harm now, could it?”

She gives him a flat look. “Halbrand.”

“Galadriel,” he says, mocking the warning in her voice. He lifts his hand again, searches her face with a lancing gaze. “Please.”

She wants to deny him again, but she can find no reason to. It is merely a dance. And if it will ease his trepidation for the unsavory business ahead, then surely she can grant him this boon. “Alright.”

When she places her fingers in his calloused palm, he doesn’t guide them back to the celebration as she expects. Instead he takes her other hand and begins to sway in time to the music coming from below.

“Here?” she asks.

“Well,” he replies with a grin, “I thought this better done away from the gossipmongers. It’s your image I seek to preserve. The Lady Galadriel of the Noldor deigning to take a turn with a low man.” He clicks his tongue in pretend disapproval.

“The Southlander King, you mean to say.”

Her callow attempt at lightheartedness is answered with sudden tension in his jaw. “There isn’t a crown on my head yet,” he mutters.

Before she can find the words to salvage their exchange, the tune changes to something more rousing, and he spins in her in a rapid circle. The movement is so abrupt it startles a laugh from her. She is as surprised by the sound as Halbrand, but his mouth stretches in a wide smile. He’s never looked so unfettered in their association, and a seed of gladness sprouts in her chest. Round and round they whirl, his laughter joining hers as they fumble through the steps.

Nothing exists in this moment outside of the feel of her skirts billowing outward, his fingers at her waist, her mirth reflected in his eyes. She is a child again, untouched by suffering and death. She’s the little girl riding her brothers’ shoulders, picking apples from the high branches. She’s an adolescent astride a stallion at full gallop for the first time.

But reality is a tide that cannot be forestalled. Too soon, the final strains of the song echo below, and Halbrand releases her. His grin dies in increments, expression turning grave. Her own becomes circumspect once more, but it’s belied by her quickened pulse as his gaze traces the lines of her face. She was right before; this simple dance has become weighted. But she cannot bring herself to withdraw, not when he reaches for the lock of hair that has come loose, not when he delicately returns it to its place, careful to avoid touching her ear.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

She’s unable to offer him more than a nod.

He steps back with a deep sigh. “Until tomorrow then.” He’s gone without another word.

Tomorrow. Where they will sail toward war. Where they will vanquish the blight of Middle Earth. Where she will put a crown upon his head and finish what fate began in the Sundering Seas.

And they both will finally have peace.

~FIN~

mime héri = my lady

Apsene-me, mime héri = Forgive me, my lady

#haladriel #saurondriel #the rings of power #trop #my fic #canon compliant #slight canon divergence #missing scene #shia the buff #haladriel fic #saurondriel fanfic

[kimageddon]

-|- Page header by space-b33 -|- Masterlist -|- Prince of Dathomir Masterlist -|- Sins of the Father Masterlist -|- Art Masterlist -|- Check out my : Ko-fi / AO3 -|- Prompt Challenges -|- Art Attack Weekly Challenge -|- Join my tag list -|-

🌶 Slightly 🌶 Spicy 🌶 - Zaiya and Maul

Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence - Prince of Dathomir Masterlist

I just love these two! I got a lot of writing done yesterday so today I was drawing. Thank you to @high-functioning-fangirl473 for reminding me of this WIP! I hope you like the finished piece!

The List of Tags: (If your name is crossed out then check your settings! Tumblr is not letting me tag you!) @two-black-leviathans @fallenrepublick @eyecandyeoz @ashotofspotchka @littlepossss @octupus-on-the-moon @justalittletomato @mach-opress @mustluvecho @nahoney22 @leotatombs @eloquentmoon @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @maulslittlemeowmeow @misogirl828 @alwayssnivellus @stardustbee @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @bacarasbabe @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius

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#a prince of dathomir #darth maul #star wars #nightsister oc #maul x oc #darth maul x oc #zaiya valessa #slight canon divergence

[mpreg-is-always-possible]

How to Choose

Story Summary

Valerie Jones had never had to put much thought into what her life would turn out to be - she was to go to school, find someone to settle down with, and get a job, that's the plan. But when her first day at her new job ends in an unexpected trip to a different dimention, how can she reconcile what she had planned and what life has dished out?

Masterlist

Author’s Note

Soooooo this is coming a little later than I was planning but it’s here now! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the update!

Chapter 12

Steve stood at the top of the stairs starring down at his long lost soulmate for what felt like ages. The grip on his gun was so tight it almost hurt as he lowered it away from Bucky. His breath caught in his throat as he looked into Bucky’s steely blue eyes that used to look at him with nothing but warmth and love. Now they eyed Steve beedily as Bucky was debating what to do now that he had been caught. The two men just stared at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence.

“Steve,” a soft voice called out from the common room. Bucky’s eye’s darted up towards the door and took a step forward. Steve raised his gun again, stopping Bucky in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked.

“There was a girl by the river when I pulled you out. She said to come here to talk to her,” Bucky said. Steve lowered his gun again, his brow furrowed.  

“She told you to come here?”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed and his brow furrowed.

“Why do you care?” Bucky said in a gravely voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used in awhile.

“She’s also my soulmate and I have to keep her safe, even from you,” Steve answered. Valerie called out again, her voice sounding closer. Both of the super soldiers could her her footsteps nearing the stairwell door. “What did you need to talk to her about?”

Bucky looked down at the ground for a moment. His shoulder moved up and down like he was trying to compose himself and Steve gripped his gun a little tighter. Bucky looked back up at Steve, a steelyness in his eye that hadn’t even been there in the D.C.

“Bucky…”

“You didn’t hold a gun to me in D.C.” Bucky said.

“You weren’t asking for my soulmate in D.C.,” Steve replied. “I don’t want to hold a gun to you but until I know why you came to see her, I don’t have another choice. Maybe I’ll put my gun down if you tell me what you want with her.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky grumbled, eyes darting down.

“I need better than I don’t know,” Steve said. Bucky huffed, his lips pressed tightly together.

“I just came to talk to the girl from the river.”

“You said that already,” Steve said through gritted teeth. Steve’s patience was waring thin. All he wanted to do was run to Bucky. To throw his arms around his soulmate and help him out of this situation and introduce him properly to Valerie. He didn’t dare to think about the life they could have. One of easy contentedness living far away from any outside forces looking to exploit them. Now wasn’t the time for daydreaming of lives that could be. No, now was the time for caution because some swedish asshole decided Bucky needed to be brainwashed for 70 years. Used and abused for Hydra. Before Bucky could answer, the door opened and Valerie peaked her head in.

“Steve? What are you…” the question died on her lips once she noticed the gun in Steve’s hand and the tightnessof his shoulders and jaw. Suddenly, rushed steps came from the stairs, and in a flash Bucky and Steve were struggling against each other. Bucky’s arms were around Steve’s waist, trying to get past him. Steve had Bucky in a headlock, his feet planted to the ground. Steve hit bucky with the butt of his gun, but Buckky caught his wrist. Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm and twisted it, using his hight to his advantage and pushing Bucking to the ground. Steve knelt on Bucky’s back. It all happened so quickly, Valerie didn’t even have time to yell.

“Valerie, get out of here,” Steve yelled, his gun pressed into Bucky’s back. Valerie stood frozen in wide eye terror as Bucky looked up at her. “Call Tony, then Same. Tell them what’s happening

Valerie ignored Steve’s request and just looked at Bucky, who wasn’t even struggling against Steve. Bucky was here. He was here. There Bucky was, in ragged, slightly grimy clothes that she was sure were stolen, a knifelaying just a foot away from his flesh hand. Valerie didn’t care about the knife nor did she heed Steve’s warning to leave. All she could think about was getting this distressed man into the tower.

“Bucky,” she whispered, disbalief washing over her. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky took a minute to look her over. She had a nervous look in her eye, but her hands gripped the doorhandle so tightly, it was like she was tethering herself to prevent her from running the few steps between them. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“You said you’d be here if I needed help,” Bucky said, he stared at her determedly, fighting every urge to push Steve off of him so he could look at her properly. “Why?”

Valerie mouth opened and closed, trying to form words. What did he mean ‘why?’ It was a question so simple, that it felt like it should just be known. Yet here Bucky was looking up at her like a lost kid looking for help. His tone was sharp and pointed though, so cutting, Valerie stepped back. “Why did I offer you help?”

“You saw what I did to him, why would you want to help me?”

“Do you not think you deserve it?” Valerie asked.

“Why would I deserve it?”

“Because it wasn’t your fault,” Steve interjected. It wasn’t the right answer. Bucky started shaking his head, lips pressed together in a thin line.

“No, I still did it though,” Bucky said through gritted teeth.

“You also pulled Steve from the water and you’ve had this long to go back to Hydra, and you didn’t,” Valerie said, hands gripping the rail. “If you’re so unredeemable, why not just leave Steve to die and go back?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky mumbled.

“Why don’t you get off of him, Steve? We can get him some clean clothes and some food. In the mean time, he can try to think of a better answer than I don’t know,” Valerie said, taking a tentative step forward only to jump back as Steve yelled out a ‘no’ and shoved his hand out to block Valerie.

“Steve!” Valerie hissed.

“He doesn’t come in until he tell me exactly why he’s here,” Steve said firmly.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Bucky siad.

“Then what are you doing here?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know.”

“We need better than I don’t know, Buck,” Steve said.

“Okay, Bucky you turn on Jarvis and instead of giving Steve your weapons, you place them infront of you on the table?” Valerie asked, finally getting out of Steve’s grip and stepping beside Steve. “Does that work for everyone?”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Bucky repeated.

“Were you just planning on waiting in the stairwell until someone happened to see you then?”

“I…I don’t know. I just wanted to ask you something.” Bucky said, turning his head away from Valerie and Steve.

“What did you want to ask?” Valerie asked.

“What’s your name?”

Valerie looked from Bucky to Steve, who kept his eyes trained on Bucky. Part of her didn’t want to answer. It was the part of her that knew how dangerous Bucky was. If he could nearly kill Steve then what hope did she have against him? But another part of her just wanted to crouch down next to him, caress his face, and tell him everything was going to be okay. To shoo Steve off and wrap her arms around this lost man.

“Valeire,” she finally answered.

“You’re full name,” Bucky demanded.

“You don’t -” Steve began but Valerie cut him off.

“Valerie Marie Jones,” she whispered so quietly Steve almost couldn’t hear her but Bucky had never listened so closely to anyone in his entire life.

“Do you have my name on you?” Bucky asked. Valerie nodded, her eyes stinging.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, hurt lacing his words.

“Th-there was so much going on. I didn’t think it was the right time.” Valerie said, breathing low to stop the tears from falling.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He turned his head away from her and his mouth became a straight line. His gaze was so hard and piercing, Valerie thought he might carve a hole throught the concrete wall as an escape.

“Why did you want to help me?” he finally gritted out, “You didn’t even want to tell me who you were, yet you want to help me?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was. If I could go back a change that, I would. But I do want to help you if that’s what you want,” Valerie said. Steve let out a wet scoff and suddenly Valerie remembered that Steve was still there, pinning Bucky to the ground.

“Of course he wants help, and we’re going to give it to him,” Steve said. His eyes were red and he took measured breaths. For the first time, Bucky started to struggle a bit, a slight panic in his eye.

Valerie shook her head, stepping towards Steve and crouching down to place a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “No, he has to want help. He has to ask for it, Steve. Forcing him to go through what you’re asking of him could do more harm than good. Please get off of Bucky and let him make his choice.”

Steve shook his had back and forth, his face screwing up like he was trying to will the tears to go back into his eyes. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t let him leave.”

“Why don’t we just start with standing up?” Valerie said, softly caressing Steve’s cheek.

Steve nodded and pinned both of Bucky’s hands behind his back before standing and bring Bucky up with him. Bucky looked like he wanted to bolt. His eyes were darting from Valerie to the door leading into the tower and the stairs, but he made no move to get out of Steve’s grip.

“Valerie grab that knife and bring it to the kitchen. Then call Tony and tell him what’s happening,,” Steve said. Valerei picked up the knife and hesitated looking between the two men.

“We’ll be in there in a second,” Steve reassured. “I just need to pat down Bucky before he goes in.”

Valerei nodded and left the men alone again. Steve sighed and walked Bucky over to the wall. He placed Bucky’s hands against the cinder blocks and pushed his feet apart. He got to work, searching for any hidden weapon on Bucky. He ran his hands across Bucky’s arms and down his torso and legs. Steve turned Bucky around and repeated his search again. Bucky said nothing and only moved when Steve moved him. He had a far off look on his face, like he wasn’t there.

“You alright, Buck?” Steve asked, lifting up Bucky’s shirt to pull a gun from his waistband. Bucky didn’t say anything. Steve reached the front of Bucky’s right boot and felt another knife. He sighed and pulled it out. “You packed pretty light for storming the tower alone.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Bucky whispered.

“No, probably not,” Steve sighed, standing to look Bucky in the eye. “But I’m glad you came.”

“If you were smart, you’d kill me,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. Steve’s entire body went rigid and his blood felt icy.

“I don’t want you dead,” Steve mumbled.

“I wanted you dead.”

Steve started at Bucky. His jaw was set and if he didn’t know better, he would have believed what Bucky said. But there was something behind that suredness that told Steve he was fronting. He just shook his head.

“If you wanted me dead you wouldn’t have pulled me from the river.”

“You don’t know me,” Bucky said, glaring at Steve.

“I do know you, Buck and you know me.”

Bucky stared unblinking at Steve, like he was waiting for Steve to take back what he said. But he didn’t. Steve just took a step back and waited for Bucky to walk through the door into the tower. After a moment, the two men were walking into the common area.

“Jarvis,” Steve said, setting down Bucky’s weapons. “What’s Tony’s ETA?”

“Mr. Stark should be back at the tower in about 30 minutes,” Jarvis replied. “I also should tell you that as soon as Mr. Barnes left the stairwell, I was able to regain access to that area but my access to the common area was gone the moment Mr. Barnes entered.”

Steve huffed and shook his head. “Bucky, first let’s start with not disrupting Jarvis. If you’re gonna stay we need Tony to agree to it and messing with Jarvis is not the way to get on his good side.”

Valerie walked into the kitchen from the living room, putting her phone back in her pocket. “Tony is on his way and he know’s that Bucky is messing with Jarvis. He’s really not happy about it.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, but he made no move to stop interfering with Jarvis. Steve and Valerie just stared at him, waiting for him to do something but nothing came. Finally Valerie sat next to him.

“If you want us to help you, you’re going to have to trust us a little,” She said, mindful to keep her voice even and kind, not touching his at all.

Bucky considered her words for a moment, his body so rigid Valerie thought he looked like he’d shatter if touched. Steve took a step towards Bucky, a comforting hand outstretched. Bucky’s eyes darted to Steve and Valerie jerked her head side to side in a absolutely-not-abort-mission kind of way. Thankfully, Steve picked up on this and dropped his hand.

“Valerie’s right, Buck,” Steve sighed. “Help us help you.”

Bucky looked to Steve and then Valerie, before giving a curt nod and pulling out some kind of device that looked out of a sci-fi movie to Valerie, and flicking a switch. 

“I now have access to the common area kitchen,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Stark is also 15 minutes away.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Bucky murmured.

“Why not?” Valerie asked.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and his breathing became deep and measured. Whirling came from his metal arm as his balled his fist. It should have been terrifying - Valerie hadn’t been able to forget just how broken Steve looked when he had been pulled out of the river. Yet she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Is there a specific reason you shouldn’t be here?” she asked. Again, he didn’t answer.

“Bucky, we need some answers. Tony is-” Steve began to plead but Bucky interrupted.

“I killed Howard and his wife,” Bucky said lowly, staring at the counter. Valerie’s forehead creased in confusion. She didn’t know who those people were, but from Steve face she could tell it was bad. As soon as the words left Bucky’s mouth, the color drained from Steve’s face. His mouth opened and closed stupidly as he looked for anything so say. After a moment, Steve finally found his voice.

“You didn’t have a choice, Bucky.”

“I still did it.”

“You wouldn’t have done that if you were in your right mind,” Steve comforted, but Bucky just shook his head.

“I shouldn't’ have come here,” Bucky muttered.

“But you did,” Valerie said firmly. “You came here to ask for help and we want to do that Bucky.”

“You two want to help, but is Stark really going to want to help the guy who murdered his parents?” Bucky asked pointedly. 

“What did you just say?” a voice asked from behind Steve and Valerie. They both whipped around to see Tony standing in the middle of the room  in his Iron Man suit. His mask flipped up and he was glaring so intensely at Bucky, Valerie was sure he would set on fire if Tony didn’t look away.

“Tony-” Steve started but was silenced when Tony turned his gaze on him.

“Did you know he killed my mom,” Tony said, lowly.

“No, I didn’t,” Steve said quickly. “I didn’t know and I’m sure that when Bucky did it he didn’t know either.”

All three of them turned to Bucky who was just staring blankly at the floor.

“Hey! Now’s a great time to start talking, Manchurian Candidate,” Tony barked.

“I’m sorry…” Bucky said softly, not looking up.

“You’re sorry? Is that all you have to say?” Tony yelled. He rushed forward and Valerie stepped in front of Tony. “Get out of here Valerie, I’ll hurt you if you get in the way.”

“Tony, he wasn’t in his right mind,” Steve yelled. “And Valerie has nothing to do with this.”

Tony was seething. He flipped his mask back down and lifted his hand up, a whirling noise came from it and the light in his palm got brighter. Valerei pushed his arm away from its target right as it shot a beam of light. A hole was in the wall and Tony roared.

“Tony, stop!” Valerie yelled as Steve shouted at her to leave. Bucky was still seated at the table, looking completely unfazed. “Tony, don’t hurt him!”

“Why? He killed my mom and all he has to say for himself is sorry,” Tony spat.

“I know, and I can’t imagine what you’re feeling but hurting him won’t bring her back,” Valerie pleaded.

“Why is he here?” Tony asked though clenched teeth.

“He came for help,” Steve said.

“I told him to come if he needed help,” Valerie said. “He wants to make up for what he’s done.”

Tony scoffed. “Really? Is that what you want, Barnes. To go around to everyone you hurt and give out some half-assed apology and then rot away in some super max prison? Becasue that’s what’s coming for you. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Bucky finally looked up and with the saddest eyes Valerie had ever seen said to her and Steve, “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”

In a fraction of a second, Bucky grabbed his weapons from the table and unscrewed the hilt. A small ball can rolling out and in a flash, a dense fog filled the air. Valerie couldn’t see anything but felt large metal hands push her to the ground and heavy footfalls rushing away. Her eyes watered as she tried to wave away the smoke. She stood slowly and reached out her hands to feel her way to Steve, if he was even still there. A few steps in she hit the kitchen counter.

“Steve!” she called out.

“I’m right here, Val,” he replied and a moment later Steve’s large hand reached through the smoke to pull her through. In a moment, they were in the stairwell again breathing the fresh air. The two just leaned against the wall in silence as Jarvis filtered out the smoke. Valerie tried to strain her ears to hear any sign of Bucky or Tony, but they were both gone. She was trying hard to not look at Steve, she could already tell how he was feeling through their mark. Devastation and longing like she had never felt crept from his name, encasing her heart in a deep sadness so thick molassas seemed as thin as water. She looked up at him, as silent tears poured down his face.

“Steve…” she whispered, but he just shook his head.

“He was right here, Valerie,” Steve gasped. “He was right here, wanting my help and Tony chased him away.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Valerie cried. He just looked at her eyes wide and watery. She racked her brain to find the right thing to say, anything to make that beaten puppy dog look on his face go away but what is there to say? How do you comfort someone when the love of their life is so close and yet so far beyond their reach? Valerie decided the universe had the most fucked up sense of humor.

“How was I supposed to know they made him kill Tony’s parents? I never would have kept him here if I had known,” Steve sobbed. He buried his head in his hands and sank to the ground. Valerie wrapped her arms around him and held him as he cried for his soulmate.

They sat like that well past soreness stiffened Valerie’s knees and Steve’s tears dried up. THe two just sat huddled together until the door swung open and metal footsteps came culomping in. Tony stood in front of them, glaring down in distrust.

“Did you know?” he asked.

“Tony,” Valerie started but Tony was determined to get his answer. He pushed Valerie off of Steve and grabbed the other man by the collar, shoving him against the wall.

“Did you know?” He repeated. Steve looked past Tony, his voice came small and scratchy from crying.

“No.”

“Did you know he was coming here?” Tony asked.

“No.”

“Why was he here?” Steve didn’t answer. Tony shoved him against the wall for a second time. “Steve!”

“I told him to come here!” Valerie yelled, the shock of Tony’s abruptness finally abetting. “When he pulled Steve from the river, I was there and told him to come here when he wanted to get help.”

Tony turned to Valerie and let go of Steve. His face was red and his gaze made Valerie want to curl up and die.

“I’m not helping him with anything,” Tony spat. WIth that he turned and went back into the tower.

Valerie let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as soon as the door slammed shut.

“Steve,” she whimpered, though she didn’t know what to say.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his gaze still far off.

“Yeah,” she said. “Are you?”

“Bucky needs help. I have work to do,” Steve said. He pushed himself off the wall and walked into the tower without sparing Valerie a glance. He left her alone to her thoughts and finally Valerie sank to the ground herself, tears streaming down her face.

Chapter 13

tags

@izhetttttt

#stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x oc #soulmate!steve rogers #soulmate!bucky barnes #soulmate au #steve x bucky #steve x reader #bucky x reader #Fluff and angst #slow burn #hurt/comfort #angst #howtochoose #canon typical violence #slight canon divergence

[fixationstation]

Let Go of Your Umbrella

Part one: Coffee and Apologies

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader

Word count: 1900

Summary: You’ve worked as a secretary for Stark Industries- and later the Avengers- for years. After everyone came back after five years, the world’s a mess and half of your family is gone. You’re not the only one dealing with the aftermath, and despite your better judgement, you’re dragged along with someone else who’s trying to move on. You don’t know it yet, but you’re the sunshine to his cloudy day.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

You took the smallest step away from the man who was standing entirely too close and trying to make small talk. Despite the curt answers you gave back, he was certainly not getting the hint. The last thing you wanted was someone trying to chat you up while you waited for breakfast orders.

Sure, maybe you were used to the wait, but usually the company you took with to help carry things was a bit more… well, it was usually Peter that went with you. Today, it seemed like everyone collectively agreed that it was Bucky’s turn to go with you. Apparently, he had been dodging everyone’s calls, so running errands with you was his comeuppance. To be completely honest, you weren’t sure why he agreed.

You had absolutely nothing against Bucky despite the fiasco that had been the Sokovia Accords. In fact, the two of you got along well when he wasn’t avoiding talking to everyone… even though most of your conversations were just in passing, and you could count the number you’d had on one hand. To a degree, you certainly understood why he kept to himself, and you couldn’t say you blamed him for waiting outside of the coffee shop while you ordered.

But you were starting to regret not having someone nearby to give you an excuse to avoid the man.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when an arm fell around your waist. You blinked over at the familiar face, though his gaze was set on the man. You noted that the metal arm still rested at his side.

"This guy bothering you, babydoll?"...babydoll? You were not, nor had you ever dated Bucky Barnes. Your gaze flickered between Bucky and the man before the metaphorical light bulb went off in your head.

"Oh! James, my darling dearest! I thought you were waiting back home," you laid it on thick, both to mess with him and so that the stranger could get the hint.

The man wasn't able to get much of a word in edgewise as you practically swooned.

Bucky was trying very hard not to smirk at your little display despite the fact that he seemed to be on high alert, "what, and leave my best girl to pick up lunch by herself?" He leaned over a bit to whisper to you, “you okay?”

You smiled and giggled as if he'd said something completely different, "oh, absolutely. Thank you.”

"Glad I stopped by anyways," he pointedly glared at the man before smiling at you once more.

The stranger grumbled a bit, but stepped away to wait for his food at the other side of the restaurant while you grabbed the food as soon as it was set on the counter for you.

"Well, thank you, honey bunch." You had to bite your lip to stop from bursting into laughter as you dropped a tip in the jar and handed half of the drinks off to him.

"Of course. Any time, shnookums. Do you mind if I walk you home?" He was already leading out of the building with his arm still firmly around your waist.

"Oh, be still my beating heart," you chuckled before quietly adding, "chivalry isn't dead, it was just frozen for seventy years."

At your comment, he gave a little surprised laugh. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of the accomplishment.

“You know, you’re not so bad,” he smiled over at you. Though it was a bit tense and unsure, you were positive that he had been quite the charmer back in the day.

“I’m everyone’s favorite paperwork jockey for a reason,” you mused back.

“I didn’t know you were still doing paperwork for the Avengers.”

That gave you a pause. You weren’t. Really, you were just a glorified errand runner for anyone that needed you to be. The whole ‘Avengers’ thing had been complicated since…. Well, since you lost three of your employers and the compound that housed the team.

You couldn’t help the little scoff, “you still wouldn’t believe all the nonsense I have to do for you guys. I’m holding things together with glitter glue and popsicle sticks here.”

You grinned and shook your head before continuing, “Scott couldn’t make a comprehensive grocery list for shit. And do you know how complicated some of your café orders are? Venti 8 shot, 1 pump mocha, nonfat, no whip, with exactly 4 shakes of cinnamon stirred in. And that’s what Strange asks for every time.”

“…What language is that?”

“I don’t know, but I always feel bad for the poor barista that has to make it.” You shook your head and glanced over at him. “What about you?”

He met your gaze for a moment before looking ahead again. “Me?”

“Yes you, darling dearest,” you joked, “you never ask me to get anything for you.”

He went quiet, his shoulders tensing back a bit. You got the sneaking suspicion that you weren’t going to get an answer.

Naturally, you continued to pry, “it’s… my job to do that, you know. Being the pass-around personal assistant has been my job for years, and I’d like to think I’m good at it. Besides, most of you guys can’t really just… wander the streets without getting stopped. That’s why I usually take the kid with me.”

Bucky just hummed in reply, and you found yourself going quiet. If he decided to wall himself up again, it probably wasn’t wise to keep pushing him. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky Barnes to dislike you- not because you were afraid of him by any means, but because you wanted him to be your friend. He could use more of those.

“Hey,” you tried again after a few minutes of walking, “thanks, by the way. For, um… helping me out back there. That was some quick thinking.”

“You looked uncomfortable,” he supplied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah, so you were watching me, huh?” Not that it surprised you. The guy had a major staring problem.

“Yes.” He seemed to have a brief realization, because he quickly continued to backpedal, “in a very professional way. Strictly work related. I thought I was supposed to go with you to keep an eye out.”

You raised a brow and nodded, “right. By watching me from outside, through a window. Totally normal.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“What? No, I would never,” your smile said otherwise.

“You’re a punk,” he huffed over at you.

“I thought I was your babydoll,” you continued on, “cute pet name, by the way.”

“…I’m done talking to you now.” Was he blushing?

You never thought you’d see the day that Bucky would blush and refuse to look over at you. Mister closed off and stoic had cracked, and you were determined to chip away. Normally, you were just as quiet as he was, but now you were on a mission.

You laughed softly and smiled over at him. “Darn. I guess I won’t be able to tell you that I picked you up a cinnamon roll, then. You never tell me what you want, but I figured that most people like cinnamon rolls unless they’re allergic to cinnamon… you’re not allergic to cinnamon, are you?”

“No,” he answered bluntly.

“No? No you’re not allergic, or no you don’t want it?”

Bucky finally looked back over at you again, “I’m not allergic. Thanks.”

You practically beamed back at him. It was certainly a step in the right direction, and you’d take as many of those as you could get. Even if the two of you fell back into silence, you’d count that as a win.

“…you were there.”

“Huh?” You were quick to blink over at him when his comment pulled you out of your thoughts.

“In Berlin. You were there with Stark when…” he trailed off.

“Oh. That. I… I was, yeah.”Sure, maybe you’d been terrified for your life for a minute, but you knew it hadn’t been him. You didn’t agree with the way Steve had gone about it, but you’d believed him from the very start.

He sighed a bit and shook his head, muttering softly to himself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” And then louder to you he added very awkwardly in a way that you were sure was practiced, “I am no longer the Winter Soldier. My name is James Bucky Barnes, and you’re part of my efforts to make amends.”

Your expression scrunched up a bit, “you don’t have to do that. There’s nothing to amend with me, and I already knew your name.”

“…you’re wrong. You got hurt.”

“I got a few bruises,” you assured him, “It was nothing-“

“Don’t. Don’t do that. I remember the look you gave me. I hurt you, and you were terrified.”

You stopped walking. He wasn’t… entirely wrong, but that wasn’t quite what had happened.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you muttered. “Was I afraid of the situation? Absolutely. You said it yourself, though. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I almost threw you down a stairwell,” his voice was strained.

You shifted your weight between your feet before you continued walking. Even if it was water under the bridge to you, you understood. You also figured that the two of you could argue about it in circles for hours, and he wouldn’t budge.

“Alright. Fine. Tell you what, if I get to ask you a question that you have to answer honestly, I’ll consider us even. But it has to be a ‘nothing’s off the table’ type question.”

He narrowed his gaze at you, staring quietly for a long moment. You wished you knew what was running through that pretty head of his, even though you were sure it wasn’t entirely pleasant.

“…fine. Deal.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “oh, good. See, I’ve been wondering something, but it felt a bit too personal to ask, especially since we’ve only talked a few times and-“

“Just ask the damn question.”

“Can you feel things with the metal arm? Because, I mean, you’ve done some crazy stuff with it that I’ve kind of been assuming you don’t feel- or at least I hope you don’t. But I saw you test to see if a tomato was ripe with it once, and considering the fact that it didn’t explode, I’ve been wondering ever since.”

He blinked at your rambling train of thought, slowly letting it process. There were a few times that he looked like he was about to speak, only to stop himself and shake his head.

“You want to know… if I can feel things with my left hand.” He slowly reiterated, as if he had been expecting you to ask something much worse.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Well… kind of? I can’t really feel things like textures or pain in the arm itself, but most of the time it feels like I do. I don’t… actually know all of the technical crap. Sometimes when I should be hurt on my arm I think I feel pain, even though I don’t. I’ve just had it for long enough that I can… safely figure out how to be delicate with it. Most of the time.”

You nodded slowly, “so… phantom feelings and a hell of a lot of practice,” you summarized.

He hummed in confirmation. Content with that, you nodded and turned forward again to finish off your errands with a bit of pep in your step.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #post endgame #pre tfatws for now #marvel #tfatws #slight canon divergence

[atths--twice]

For Tonight

As Mulder cries silently at Scully's bedside in Redux ll, she has a nightmare that wakens her. He is there to comfort her through it and her worries, as well as worries of his own.

An ask on Twitter led me to imagine this story and began writing it as it sparked an immediate interest. Hope you enjoy. 

She dreamt of waves crashing angrily against sharp, dark, jagged rocks. Wind whistled loudly around her, her hair whipping violently in her face. Closing her eyes, she tried to take in a deep breath, but felt as if she were choking.

A wave hit the rocks again and she felt the spray of it, bitingly cold and stinging her skin. Her eyes flew open as she coughed and tried again to take a breath. She felt her knees beginning to buckle, when from behind her, someone called her name.

Stumbling, she turned in the wind, another wave crashing and spraying her bare feet. She looked down and found she could not move, her feet stuck to the rocky ground.

“Scully!”

She heard the voice again and she choked on her breath as she looked up and brushed her hair angrily from her face.

“He… he… here!” she screamed back, forcing the words from her throat, gagging and retching as she clutched her throat and chest.

“Scully!”

“I… I…” she tried to yell, the tears in her eyes cutting into her skin like glass. “Please…”

She fell to her hands and knees, pain reverberating through her as she cried without any sound, unable to take in any oxygen as her lungs failed her.

Water hit her calves, collecting in a puddle at her knees as she fell onto her stomach, her eyes open as she felt and saw water nearing her face. A guttural breath and she heard the voice again, right at her ear, soft and gentle.

“Scully. Scully. You need to wake up.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but water rushed in to fill it and she closed her eyes, accepting her imminent death.

“Scully!”

Her eyes flew open and she drew in a harsh breath, feeling something heavy on her arm. Coughing and gagging, she sat up, dislodging the heaviness from her arm as she fought against the cold water filling her lungs.

“Hey! Hey! Scully! Calm down. Relax. Hey!”

She heard, but the words did not resonate. Where was the water? Where was she?

Hands held her upper arms and soft words were spoken as she thrashed, closing her eyes, believing a wave was coming any second.

“Scully, it’s me. It’s Mulder. You need to relax. You’re okay. Take a deep breath. Come on.”

“I can’t,” she rasped and then she felt pressure on her chest. “Oh God, I can’t.”

“Feel my hand on you. Feel me pressing. Breathe against my hand. Push it out.”

“I…”

“You can. Push my hand. There. Again. Yes. Do it again. Good.”

Her head down, she opened her eyes. It was dark, but she could see his hand on her chest as it rose and fell. Her hands were clutching the blankets covering her and she slowly released them as she raised her head.

Mulder’s eyes were full of concern as he searched her face.

“I’m okay,” she breathed, nodding as she covered his hand with hers. “I’m… I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand gently and he nodded, lifting his hand from her chest, nodding as he licked his lips.

She wiped at the tears on her face and took a few deep breaths.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“What?”

“I… I thought I was… that I was drowning. There were waves and I couldn’t breathe. I was stuck… but then I heard you calling my name. Telling me to wake up.”

“Yeah, you were coughing and clutching at your throat. I…” He shook his head and she sighed.

“What are you doing here? What time is it?”

“I honestly don’t know- the time that is,” he said, attempting a smile, but failing. “Can I get you some water?”

“Yes, thank you,” she answered, rubbing at her throat. With a nod, he stood up from the side of her hospital bed and walked to the table with the water pitcher and cups.

Taking a deep breath, she shifted and reached for the remote to adjust the bed into a sitting position.

“Straw?”

“Yes, please.” Leaning back, she closed her eyes, exhausted and still thinking of her dream.

“Here,” he said softly and she opened her eyes, turning her head to the side.

He held the cup and straw for her as she drank the cold water. The nurse had filled the pitcher with mostly ice before Scully had gone to sleep and now the water was the perfect temperature.

She drank until the cup was empty, licking her lips as she closed her eyes again.  

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting out a sigh.

“Hmm,” he hummed as she heard the cup being set down on the table. “I uh… I should go and let you get some rest.”

“What?” she asked, her eyes flying open and staring at him.

“I’m sure you’re tired.”

“I am, but I don’t want you to go.”

“I shouldn’t have come so late. You should be… you need to rest and… save your strength. Fuck…” He turned away from her and she heard him stifling a cry.

“Mulder,” she said softly, pulling her blankets back and moving her legs to the side of the bed, attempting to get up and go to him.

“No,” he said with another sobbing breath as he turned around and walked toward her. “Don’t get up. You need to rest.” He reached for her blankets and she stopped him.

“Mulder, stop.”

“Scully, I didn’t mean to wake you, I just needed… but you need…” He shook his head, looking down at the floor, not meeting her eyes.

“Stay. Lay with me,” she said, shocking both of them. He raised his head and looked at her with wet red-rimmed eyes. She gave him a wobbly smile and began to move over, creating some space for him in the small hospital bed.

“Scully… I… we… there’s not enough room for both of us.”

“There is.” She laid on her left side, the bed still in a sitting position, and she fumbled to find the remote.

“I got it,” he said, moving the bed to a prone position.

“There’s enough room, Mulder. Please, lay with me,” she said again, staring at him, and reaching for his hand. He stared at her and then he nodded.

He took off his shoes and his tie, looking at her once more for confirmation, before he lifted the blankets and laid down beside her. It was a tight fit, but exactly what she wanted and more than that, it was what she needed.

He laid on his right side facing her and without any hesitation she moved closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and snuggling into him. She felt him breathe in sharply and stiffen, as if he was unsure of what to do.

“Hold me, Mulder,” she whispered into his neck, tears clogging her throat. “Please.”

He exhaled and then his arms were around her, one of his legs over hers, her name on his lips. She breathed in, tears spilling from her eyes, as his familiar scent washed over her, replacing the bleach smell of the sheets and the disinfectant smell of the room.  

He was so warm, she almost did not need the blankets, so long as he stayed with her, holding her close and rubbing her back gently.

“Something happened,” she whispered with a sniffle, closing her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered back, shaking his head and pulling her closer.

“Did you find more information about the chip?” she asked hopefully, praying he had found something. Anything. “Is there…?”

“No,” he said softly, his right hand moving to her neck and touching the bandage there, as she clung to him.

“It’s not working, Mulder,” she cried. “The tests today…”

“I know, Scully. Your mother called me. That’s why… I had to… I needed to…” he said, sobbing into her hair.

They cried as they clung to one another, his hand at her neck encompassed the entire bandage and held firmly. It hurt a little, the incision site slightly sore, but she said nothing, the dull pain proving she was still alive.

“We just need… it needs more time,” he said, taking in a shuddering breath.

“Time is something I don’t have,” she whispered and he held her close.

“Don’t say that, Scully. I can’t…”

“I don’t want it to be true, but I have to face that reality.”

“Not tonight. Can we… for tonight, forget everything? Just… please?”

She kissed his neck and let out a deep breath, shifting closer to him.

“For tonight,” she agreed in a whisper, tears streaming down her face, as he exhaled her name.

He shifted, finding a more comfortable position, never letting go of her for a moment. Their feet tangled together, his rubbing against hers gently, and she breathed back a sob.

Knowing she may not have another chance, she inhaled and gathered her bravery.

“I love you,” she whispered into his chest.

His movements paused as he drew in a shaky breath and released it.

“Scully, Jesus Christ.” He held her to him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. “I love you too.”

She cried bittersweet tears, deep cries that shook her body. She loved him, he loved her, and she was going to die.

To leave him forever.

He peppered her head with kisses, whispering his love for her as she cried and clung to him. Pulling back and staring at her in the darkness, he wiped her cheeks, his thumb grazing her lips as he shook his head.

“I love you, Scully,” he whispered, holding her gaze and licking his lips. “I have for so long.”

“Me too,” she whispered, her chin quivering, eyes wet with tears.

His eyes flicked to her lips and she nodded with a watery smile. Holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he gently pressed his lips to hers.

She whimpered as she kissed him back, his lips soft. He moved his fingers, grazing her jaw and cupping her cheek. She gripped his shirt and broke their kiss as she began to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“No,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Don’t apologize.”

“It’s not fair,” she breathed, letting out a shaky breath.

“No, no it’s not,” he agreed and she moved her hand to his face, stroking his cheek softly.

“For tonight, we forget,” she whispered and he nodded against her head.

“For tonight…” he echoed her words and kissed her again, gentle and chaste, whispering to her how much he loved her as he held her close.

He placed his hand on her neck, his fingers rubbing softly.

“Scully, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered close to her ear and she drew in a deep breath. “It has to be.”

Exhaustion tugged at her, and she began to fall asleep as his fingers massaged gently, praying he was right.

Again she dreamt she was by the water, but this time it was calm and bright blue, the sun warm as it shone down on her and the wind blew gently. She lay on a blanket, running her fingers through sand so white it hurt her eyes to keep them open for long.

“Need anything?”

Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Mulder smiling down at her and she shook her head with a contented smile.

“Just you,” she said and he chuckled as he sat down beside her on the blanket, bending his head to kiss her.

“Not even an ice cold margarita?” he asked against her mouth and she laughed, holding his face in her hands.

“Maybe later. Just lay here with me and enjoy the breeze and the sunshine.” He kissed her again, before he lay down beside her and pulled her close, her head on his chest and arms around his waist.

In the hospital room, she hummed in her sleep. Moving closer to him, she sought out his warmth as it calmed her and kept her sleeping peacefully.

Reality would greet them in the morning, but tonight they lay together, hopeful that their pleas and prayers would be answered.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Redux ll #Dreams #Nightmares #Worry #Hurt/Comfort #Sadness #Crying #Caring #Confessions of Love #Kissing #Gentle Kissing #Hospitals #Holding Each Other #Snuggling and Sleeping #Slight Canon Divergence

[darth-atarah]

EPISTULAE - Those Five Years

A series of letters my characters send to each other or to some companions between 16 and 21 ATC, while the Outlander is frozen in carbonite. I may write more of them in the future as I figure out what everyone of them was doing, and I will update this post.

See the end for some notes.

————————————

The Force has spoken to me once more. For what our differences are, I know it has spoken to you as well.

I am going into hiding, and bring those who want to follow me. You may criticize me for my cowardice or inertness in your next letter if you wish, but I hope one day I can explain you my reasons for such a choice in person, and that you will understand.

For the first time in months, the path is clear. It is now the moment for us to retire, so we can return stronger in the future, and fight once more.

“When the Faithful shall doubt

When the Proud shall rest in pride

and the One who once escaped will dare to look behind,

The Spark shall ignite once again”

This is what my visions said to me, this is the time when we will act. Though when this future will come, I do not know. For now, all I can hope is that, when the signs will manifest, you and I will be able to recognize them.

Until then, stay safe.

S.N.

[Classified dispatch delivered to Darth Nox, 18 ATC]

————————————

Theron,

I had good news from my sister, more or less. Some days ago, a group of Zakuulans arrived to her enclave, disguised as refugees. They definitely knew were to look and for who. Sofia obviously had them spitting out everything in a matter of hours with all that charm of her. I would have opted for a blaster to their heads, but that’s not the point.

They’re deserters, Theron, DESERTERS. And apparently willing to give some infos you and Lana might want to hear, but let’s leave the rest for when we meet in person. Those fuckers already know too much about my businesses for my own tastes.

As if we hadn’t our hands full already, their leader says one of the damn Knights is hunting him down. We have to move quickly, I’ll find a way to have him brought here, so I can see for myself if this guy is as useful as Sof says. She also kept mentioning some Force vision and one of those cryptic poems she writes, but I think I’ll keep relying on facts.

Whatever blasted hell you are in, fly safe.

Elias

[Message delivered to Theron Shan’s personal shuttle, 19 ATC]

————————————

Malavai,

By the time you read this, I will already be in the Unknown Regions.

I know I will disappoint you with my decision, and as I leave Dromund Kaas that is my only regret. But my instincts have never betrayed me, and it is my intention to follow them, even if this time they bring me far from you, from our son and our home.

For the first time, Lana and Theron seem to have a true lead. A part of me still refuses the idea of a single Jedi being the key of this war, but I am willing to take the risk if this can save the Empire from its degrading condition.

I now speak to you not as your Lord, not as the Empire’s Wrath, but just as a wife, and a mother. In the name of what we shared, I ask you to read carefully.

This message will automatically delete as soon as you close it. For no reason you must be linked to my actions in any way. If there is any affection for me left in your heart, do not try to reach out to me until I do it myself. Do not try to find me, or send agents trying to.

Take our son and leave Kaas City. To defy the Council has consequences, the capital is NOT safe.

Watch over Vidarr and stay safe, my love.

Rhy’Lis

[Automatic message sent to Captain Malavai Quinn’s personal frequency, 19 ATC]

————————————

Consider yourself lucky, for your husband had the sense to contact me instead of his dear High Command before the whole Empire could learn about your foolish act.

I won’t even begin to explain how much of what we were planning is now undone. I thought you had come to terms with your mistake of favoring Acina, years ago. All she was able to do was condemning us all to this humiliating subjection. Your support to my claim as Emperor would have been invaluable, since every other remaining Lord seems to lack any sense or nerve in these times. In light of your recent actions and the chaos that will succeed, I have no other choice than to keep working in the shadows.

But it is not my intention to send my army after you, or the Intelligence, not for the moment, even if it would be my pleasure to scold you in person. Another one already came to me before, sure that what you, Shan and Beniko intend to do it is the ultimate solution to turn the tables of this conflict. I remain skeptical about said “solution”, but should you succeed in your search, I will follow the developments with great interest.

I will do what I can so no one learns about your true purpose. However, I don’t think I will be able to do much for the reputation you shall gain in the eyes of the Dark Council and of the Empress. Most likely, they will decide to mark you as a traitor when Zakuul comes to us, demanding explanations for the sudden absence of the Wrath.

I trust you won’t be foolish enough to answer this message. I will wait for more favorable times, should you hear from me again.

Nox

[Encrypted message delivered to the Empire’s Wrath personal ship, 20 ATC]

————————————

It has to be tonight, Elara.

We finally have a lead. If what I learned from Theron and Lana is true, we are closer to Master Mynehart than ever before.

My family got us an unregistered ship that will be ready by the end of the day, settled on a route for Zakuul. No one will stop us at the spaceport.

Aric and Yuun are coming too, and I was able to persuade the others. We’ll leave Forex behind for now, too many risks. And I heard nothing from Tanno.

I am aware of the position I am putting you in, but this inertness is sickening to say the least. Havoc’s dismissal was the last insult; as a soldier of the Republic I can’t tolerate this situation any longer.

Docking bay 61-b, 20.00

I trust to see you there, my friend.

Clotilde

[Message delivered to Sergeant Elara Dorne, later turned in to Supreme Commander Jace Malcom, 20 ATC]

————————————

THE SPARK IGNITES ONCE AGAIN

THE SPARK IGNITES ONCE AGAIN

THE SPARK IGNITES ONCE AGAIN

[Transmission repeated on every available frequency approximately 48 hours after the Outlander’s escape, 21 ATC. Zakuulan Intelligence wasn’t able to detect the exact source]

————————————

NOTES:

Battlemaster Phoebe Mynehart is the Outlander.

My Sith Warrior, Rhy’Lis Akrasia, joined Lana and Theron on their search for the Outlander.

Barsen’thor Sofia Naerie and Domiras Kallig aka Darth Nox have been secretly in contact, exchanging informations and trying to limit the sabotage actions between the Republic and the Empire. Rumor has it that they have been emotionally involved.

My Smuggler, Elias Naerie, is Sofia’s older brother and helps her by smuggling goods and transporting refugees to various safehouses around the Galaxy.

Clotilde Feyre, my Trooper, remained in command of Havoc Squad, and is an open opposer to the peace treaties with Zakuul.

#swtor #star wars the old republic #swtor oc #the old republic #oc: phoebe mynehart #oc: rhy’lis akrasia #oc: sofia naerie #oc: domiras kallig #oc: Clotilde Feyre #swtor outlander #knights of the fallen empire #knights of the eternal throne #swtor kotfe #swtor kotet #slight canon divergence #swtor fanfiction #swtor writing #swtor worldbuilding #yes the poem is terrible but I didn’t come up with anything better lmao

[skylariumrose]

The Mummy: Divergence AU

Chapter 3: Evlyen meets Rick O’Connell and gets her chance to prove herself, though not how she expects.

#my fic #secret santa #gift exchange #the mummy #rick o'connell #evelyn carnahan #ardeth bay #medjai characters #different first meeting #slight canon divergence #rick/evelyn/ardeth #polyamory

[shadowofwar-goober]

The Gondorians of Mordor- Report

What was worse? Telling the General that they had failed, or telling her father that she had failed?

   Captain Baranor wasn’t trapped in the middle and lower city like Idril and the other sergeants. Even if he was trapped with him, she would have taken up the responsibility of reporting both their devastating loss to the General and the so-called Ranger of the Black Gate that found himself in their besieged city. 

   Every step filled her with dizzying dread. She already knows what the General would say. It gave her no solace and Idril knew she needed and would say what needed to be said, regardless of how sour a taste it left in her mouth to do so. 

   The General was overlooking the burning ruins of Minas Ithil. With his back to her, he simply stated-

   “Report.”

   Idril swallowed thickly. 

   “The orcs took the middle city. We made them pay for every inch of ground but…” She can’t look the General in the eye. “They took it.”

   Idril was sick. That night- the blood, the darkness, the fear- her head was feverish from shame. She set her jaw as she waited for the General to tear his eyes from the battle still raging below. Not all of their men returned. They won’t be returning at all, alive or dead. 

   He tore his eyes from the ruins of the middle city. He met hers and his face betrayed nothing that he could be thinking or feeling. 

   Disappointed? Shame? …disgust-?

   “Then our fate shall be decided. Here.” 

   Her father wasn’t impermeable. He wasn’t made of stone and he was neither calloused or cruel. He was, though, a leader, and as a leader should, he stood tall. Impervious to the waves of death and hopelessness and despair, he was their only light in a sea of ever encroaching darkness. 

   “These walls are stronger. Taller. Our archers outnumber theirs twofold-“ 

   Idril wishes she could match her father’s stoic exterior. She cannot, no matter how hard she wishes it to be so. Her heart is filled with anguish and despair. So filled that it has already begun to overflow and out her mouth. 

   “We cannot-“ She swallows the hysterics that threaten to overtake her. 

   “We cannot match the enemy’s numbers or their ferocity, General. We cannot-“ The words died in her throat as the General turned to face her head on. 

   “Our people have held back the darkness before-“ 

   Idril couldn’t stand how clinical her father’s speeches were. Something bubbled to the surface that she has long since tried to bury and forget. 

   “…some things were lost forever, father…” She could scarcely believe she spoke such a thing aloud, here and now, of all times and places. To her surprise, though, it was not the General that heard those words. 

   Her father fell silent. The rigidity of his posture failed him and he turned to face the smoldering ruins of their city. Idril followed his gaze. 

   The market, the streets she once played in, their banners that once flew tall and proud, clean and crips, untarnished, now stained black and red with blood and soot. It was enough to shake her to her core, and perhaps it shook her father as well. 

   Too much was lost. Too much was lost long before this siege even took place. Idril knew she had no claim to her father. He was the General, first and foremost and rightly so. She cannot allow herself to feel anger or sadness or loneliness when it’s the civilians that she swore to protect that were suffering the most. 

   Even now, a decade later, she still feels not unlike the little girl she once was. One that had recently lost her mother and who already had lost her father long ago. Nothing but a petulant child that has one other than herself to rely on. Idril feels shame in allowing such a weakness to be displayed at all, let alone to the General she swore her life to. 

   The silence dragged on, until her ears began to ring and her heart slammed against her breastplate. Her father closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Blood and soot. Blood and soot… 

   “Yes… dear heart… They were…” 

   Idril hated how he looked at her with softened eyes and a crestfallen expression. How could she say something so selfish…? Every joint in her body cried for relief. Her feet raw from running and her arms heavy from fighting. They all were inflicted with loss and were at the frayed ends of their shortening ropes. She was experiencing no greater strain than any other free person in this city. 

   Whoever that still remains after that last assault. 

   “Go to the Infirmary. We have set up a place of rest for the men that need it.” Idril wasn’t sure if she was speaking to her father still, or if the General had reappeared. She shook her head regardless.

   “No.” It was what she feared the most. She, as a soldier and as a Captain of Minas Ithil, couldn’t idly sit by while the orcs sacked the city and executed prisoners of war. The General sighed. 

   “Idril-” Her father started to peek through. Scolding her like a child. Idril set her jaw.

   “No. I will not-” The General silences her with a raised hand. 

   “Dying from exhaustion will save no one.” Idril bites the retort on the tip of her tongue. He was giving her the look, the look that said ‘no matter what you say or do, I will overrule any decision that you make’. The corners of Idril’s mouth twitched as she swallowed the mouthful of bitter ripostes that nearly made an unfortunate appearance. 

   “Is that an order?” The General challenged her for a moment. They stared at one another, neither blinking, postures tense as though they both would strike at the other any moment. A breath later-

   Idril’s father sighs, shoulders losing their tension as he takes a step forward. Idril doesn’t lose the tension in her body as her father’s did.

   “Please, Idril… You know that we must protect what is precious-”

   “-at all costs.” Idril finished alongside her father. Yes, it was something of a mantra of his. It became hers as well. He closed his eyes for a moment then gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

   Even through her armour, there was tenderness in her father’s touch. She knew, as much as they conflicted, that he loved her as much as she loved him. Perhaps more… Her mother always said they were so similar…

   “...it was an order, Idril. Rest, please… for me?” Idril was too physically and emotionally exhausted to put up any more of a fight with her father.

   “It will be done, then.” She broke free of her father’s grasp, leaving behind the General as she made her way down the ramparts. Her feet hurt so damn bad… The rest of the men must be as exhausted as she is. Perhaps more. She stops in her descent down the stairs.

   Wait- 

   “Father, there was a-”

   “I won’t ask you again, Idril!” The General barked over his shoulder. Her cheeks warmed with shame and anger, but cooled slightly as a familiar stranger was making his way up to the General from the left hand side of the wall.

   How did he-? 

   She didn’t immediately take her leave. Idril lingered for only a moment, assuring that her father was in no danger from this stranger. This ranger announced his presence before he was five paces from the General, who was already staring in his direction. Idril knew her father was immediately on guard and she nearly took a step towards him when-

   “You are the General, I take it?” 

   “Yes…” The General's eyes drag away from the ranger and back to Idril, who was still one foot onto the staircase.

   Her body moved on its own accord. Like a child caught up past her bedtime, Idril quickly ducks out of sight and sluggishly trudges away, not towards the Infirmary. No, even though she is tired and she can barely stand on her own feet, she knows that she won’t be able to rest at all. She needs to do… Something. 

    She’s done it perhaps a hundred or more times since the beginning of the siege, but Idril can’t resist but to catalog and re-catalog the remaining relics of Minas Ithil. Idril wants to know- wants to feel like she truly is doing everything she can for her city. Even if she is merely doing something so mundane as making sure every piece of remaining history is accounted for.

   If something is missing… then that means someone, or something, has infiltrated into their last remaining safe haven.

@space-arsonist, @sinick, @dirtymeanuruk, @elvenmoans, @boozy-dwarf

#no #middle earth shadow of war #shadow of war #siege of minas ithil #rewrite #slight canon divergence #family tension #Idril is exhausted #The General cares about her #Talion is a sussy baka #Idril literally said to the General #oof