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omgrachwrites · 3 years

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Our Souls Crave This Magic- Chapter Three

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader

Summary: All you want is a quiet year of university as you and your best friend, Edmund move to New York City. Though, that all changes when you meet the spoiled trust fund brat, Caspian. College au.

Warnings: fluff, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers

Words: 2463

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me,all characters are 18+

A/N: Literally just realised how many side characters I’ll have to put in this bc Narnia characters don’t work hahaha! Also, I know that Caspian’s parents are dead, omg Nathaniel Parker is his dad but in this they’re alive and well! Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think, please let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

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Chapter Three - An Odd Companionship

You were in heaven, or at least you were as close to heaven as you were ever likely to get as your eyes roamed over all the Halloween themed snacks. There were things that you’d hardly even heard of such as, pumpkin spiced m&ms and chocolate with candy corn in the middle. You loved Halloween, when you were in university in London; you loved to decorate your dorm room, even though 9 times out of 10 you’d be going out to a party. It seemed that Halloween was an even bigger thing over here in America so you knew that you had to decorate your loft apartment.

Glancing behind you, you laughed at the bored look on Edmund’s face; he looked over at you and scowled as he pulled a tongue at you. Lucy, on the other hand looked as excited as you felt, “ooh, marshmallow Oreos,” she grinned and her face lit up, “I should send some over to Susan,” she took a packet off the shelf and threw it into the cart.

Edmund groaned in frustration as he covered his eyes as he trailed behind, “I get why we’re decorating the loft, it’s a tradition and the both of you are obsessed. But, do we really need to buy all of the snacks?”

Ed wasn’t a fan of Halloween. Lucy gasped in horror as she placed her hand over her heart, she was so dramatic, “how can you even say that? These snacks trump the ones in England!” she scoffed at him before wandering down the aisle, intent on grabbing more snacks.

Ed carelessly flung an arm around your shoulders and you smiled up at him, resting your head on his shoulder. Then, your best friend dropped a major bombshell, “Caspian is coming over to help us decorate,” you groaned in frustration, receiving stares from strangers but you didn’t care.

You pinched your temples as annoyance shot through every inch of your body. It was the worst news that you’d heard all day, “jesus, Ed! Why does he have to come over?”

Ed smirked as he looked at you without sympathy, “I think that you’re forgetting, Y/N, just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean I can’t be his friend.”

“He called me a slut,” you pouted as you both caught up with Lucy, you were still sore about that fact.

Ed huffed out a deep laugh, “actually, he didn’t.”

“He didn’t have to, Ed! It was implied.”

Edmund rolled his eyes and lowered his voice so Lucy wouldn’t hear the conversation you were both having, “okay, maybe it was implied but trust me, he didn’t mean it. I think he feels awful about it actually.”

You scoffed as you looked away, wrapping your arms around yourself, he should feel bad, Ed stopped you by placing his hands on your shoulders, worry etched into every corner of his freckled face, “Y/N,” he sighed, biting his lip and you knew that he was trying to find the right words, “please don’t lie to yourself and don’t pretend that you liked Caspian before all that happened. Don’t bring what your dad did into this, Caspian is not the same.”

Edmund’s eyes were so intense and worried that you had to look away, all of the Pevensie siblings were there for you when your dad betrayed your family. And for that, you felt eternally grateful. But, you didn’t want to talk about your dad.

“I can see that you really care about Caspian but I just don’t share your judgement but I suppose for you, I can tolerate him,” you smiled, “even though he is the most insufferable person that I’ve ever met, I hope you know that I would never ask you to choose between Caspian and I,” you would never make your best friend do that.

Edmund laughed as he cupped your cheek, “well that’s a good thing because I really like Caspian,” he smiled when you frowned at him and tilted your head, “you’re my best friend, Y/N, if I had to choose between you and Caspian, I would always choose you.”

You laughed bashfully as you rubbed the back of your neck; you weren’t used to people putting you first. Before you burst into tears like a total loser, you pulled Ed into a hug, inhaling the fresh scent of his aftershave.

Later on that day, you and Lucy entertained yourselves by working your way through some of the Halloween chocolate as you decorated the loft. It had been a long time coming but New York was finally beginning to feel like home. Presumably, Edmund was off somewhere sulking, he wasn’t getting involved with the whole decorating thing but you wanted to go all out. You knew that you’d probably be working on Halloween, but the beauty of college parties was the fact that they seemed to go on all night.

As you were adding fake cobwebs to the corners of the kitchen, there came a quiet knock on the door. Your blood ran cold and you scowled to yourself when Ed answered the door and you heard Caspian’s soft melodic voice. Despite yourself, you peered over your shoulder to look at the handsome man as he grinned at Ed and ran his hands through his thick hair. You were surprised when you noticed that he was wearing a simple white shirt and jeans. You were almost fooled into believing that he was just like everyone else, but you knew the truth.

“Hi, Caspian,” Lucy shouted joyfully and you narrowed your eyes at her as she pulled him into a hug. What a traitor.

“Hey, Lucy,” you could hear the smile in Caspian’s voice and you rolled your eyes, “how are you?”

“I’m good thank you, I’m going to go and decorate the bedrooms, are you alright, Y/N?” you glanced back at Lucy who shot you a meaningful glance as she walked away.

Caspian bit his lip and looked at you from beneath his thick eyelashes, and you noticed that he had the decency to look guilty, “want any help, Y/N?” he muttered and you sighed, remembering the promise that you’d made to Ed.

“Sure, Caspian. You’re on skeleton duty,” you gestured to the plastic bones by the door, “don’t mess it up,” you teased.

Caspian smirked and you had to look away, he was so blindingly handsome in that moment, not that you’d ever admit it, “I’ll try not to.”

The both of you somehow managed to work in harmony for a little while until Caspian halted his movements and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at you. You almost felt the burn of his eyes on your skin.

“Y/N,” he started and when you looked over at him you were surprised to see that his deep brown eyes were soft and a crease was forming in the middle of his forehead, “I owe you an apology; I didn’t mean what I implied the other week. I was in a bad mood, lack of sleep you know.”

You grimaced, it was your fault that he hadn’t got any sleep that night, “right,” you flushed as he walked behind you to grab some tape, the warm spicy scent of his aftershave washing over you, “I’m sorry about that.”

Caspian shrugged, “I think I was jealous too.”

His confession shocked you so much that you gasped and almost toppled off the chair that you were standing on. How was he jealous? “Jealous?” you squeaked.

Caspian’s eyes widened as he realised how it sounded and you could tell that he was trying to backtrack, “I swear, not in the way you think, it’s just, it’s been a while,” he flushed and you found that it was pretty endearing.

A frown graced your features as surprise wracked through your body, you hated Caspian but you weren’t blind to his attractive looks and mild mannerisms. Most girls would fantasise about him, “seriously?” you raised an eyebrow, “no park avenue princesses’ have won you over?”

Caspian let out a deep laugh that would reduce most people to a puddle, “nope,” he smiled as he picked up a can of silly string, “although I’m flattered that you’re surprised, even if you don’t think much of me.”

Caspian’s voice was teasing but you still kind of felt guilty, if you were being truthful, it wasn’t all that personal because you hated everyone like him, it didn’t matter who they were. People who had too much money and not enough sense got on your nerves.

“Trust me, Caspian I have my reasons for not liking you.”

Caspian touched your elbow gently as he walked past you, “I wish you would tell me what they are, because I know that you’re hiding something, Y/N.”

You wouldn’t open yourself up to Caspian, no matter how many sweet smiles that he shot your way. There was no way that you were going to be allying with your enemy; Hell would have to freeze over first.

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A couple of weeks later, Caspian was sitting in the living room of Edmund’s loft apartment with his text book open on the coffee table. The words in the text book in front of Caspian seemed to swim before his tired eyes, the young man groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face as his head began to throb. He glanced over at Edmund who was fast asleep with his cheek sticking to the paper of his essay with his mouth agape. Caspian chuckled and looked over at the clock; it was a little past 2 in the morning.

Caspian was glad that Ed had suggested that they studied at his apartment, Caspian had had a row with his housemates, they were some of his closest friends but lately, they were pissing him off. Caspian stretched his tired muscles, he needed to finish this essay but they had run out of coffee a little over an hour ago. He stood from the couch, fully intent on grabbing some more coffee when he saw that Y/N’s bedroom light was still on and the door was slightly ajar.

Biting his lip, Caspian decided to ask her if she wanted anything, he’d feel bad if he didn’t at least ask. He swallowed and peeked his head through her open door and he was awe struck with what he saw. Y/N had her back to him and she was painting a beautiful landscape of a castle in ruins, surrounded by mountains and an ocean. It was so hauntingly beautiful.

“Y/N?” he called out softly and she jumped as she was startled and she whipped around to look at him.

“Caspian?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was going to go and grab some coffee, do you want anything?”

Her lips parted slightly, like she was surprised that he’d even ask, her eyes were downcast for a second as she fiddled with her fingers. Caspian had never seen such a look on her face before, it seemed that she was in fact, human, “would you mind it if I came with you?”

“Oh!” Caspian exclaimed, gobsmacked that she wanted to go with him but she looked a little upset, maybe she needed a break, “sure, Y/N. Of course.

Y/N smiled tightly at him as she grabbed her distressed leather jacket before following Caspian into the main part of the loft. As soon as she saw the state that Ed was in she giggled, shaking her head. Her laugh was a pretty sound when it wasn’t directed at Caspian’s expense, “someone couldn’t cut it, huh?”

Caspian laughed at the smirk on her pretty face as they walked out into the cold night together, it was an odd companionship, “did you need a break or something? That’s the only reason I can think of as to why you would actually spend time with me willingly,” he teased and Y/N laughed as she bumped her shoulder against his.

“I sure did need a break; my art assignment is really kicking my arse.”

Caspian bit his lip and decided to try his luck, “is that what you were painting. From where I was standing, it looked beautiful.”

Almost at once, Y/N tensed up and her face grew stoic which was a shame, “thank you but um, no that’s something else,” she ran a hand through her messy hair but she didn’t elaborate.

“What was it?” Caspian asked with interest, they were actually having an adult conversation and he didn’t want to stop now.

Y/N scoffed as she gave him the side eye, “nice try, keep dreaming, pretty boy.”

Caspian chuckled as he held up his hands in defence, “can’t blame a guy for trying.”

As they were walking down the dark high street, Caspian internally groaned they ran into a family friend who was leaving a bar, he was completely insufferable. Why the hell was he in a bar in Brooklyn? Michael smirked as he looked from Caspian to Y/N, if Y/N thought that Caspian was an arrogant trust fund baby then he was nothing compared to this guy.

“Hello, Caspian, you’re out late, it definitely looks like you’re slumming it but I never would have believed it,” his lip curled when he noticed Caspian’s NYU jumper and Caspian’s blood boiled in anger. Michael raised an eyebrow as he looked over at Y/N, “at least you’re slumming it with a pretty girl.”

Y/N let out an angry breath as she glared at Michael, “watch it, wanker.”

Michael grimaced, his blue eyes cold and lifeless, “interesting, a mouthy British girl,” he let out a nasty laugh as he patted Caspian’s shoulder. Caspian clenched his jaw, he so wanted to punch Michael in his smarmy face, “make sure you call your mom.”

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Caspian lowered his voice as Michael pushed past them.

She nodded but she looked angry, angrier than Caspian had ever seen here, “what an arsehole. How do you know him?” she gritted her teeth as she glared at Michael’s retreating back.

“Family friend unfortunately, I have to put up with him,” Caspian muttered, distracted when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he sighed in frustration when she saw it was a text from his mum. What the hell was she doing up at this time? Did she have eyes everywhere or something?

‘Just because you haven’t been in touch with me sweetie, doesn’t mean you can get out of the wedding at the end of November, I hope you haven’t forgotten. Evelyn says that she hasn’t heard from you in a while, sort it out, Caspian x’

Caspian scowled as he angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket, talking to Evelyn hadn’t been a part of the deal. Not yet anyway.

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@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @generalblizzarddreamer @blackbirddaredevil23 @whiskeywinter89 @graciehams

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estoniacobaltpayne · 3 years

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Judgement Day

Chapter 1: Devising Deceit

Summary: Desperate, a force user bargains for her freedom; if she acquires the ‘asset’ deemed top priority, she would be free from the life that has enslaved her. Years of training has prepared her, but she’s stubborn and unlucky and more often than not she’s biting off more than she can chew. Maybe pulling the long con is the only path to freedom, but if it is, there’s a Mandalorian blocking it.

Warnings: language, implications of creepy old men

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Prologue: Here!

Arvala-7 was hot. Despicably so. It was as if its creation was solely intended to irritate her on her quest. She would have thought she would have been more accustomed to the heat, but even the stuffy cargo holds on the dingy and dank ships she stowed away upon weren’t as unbearable as the waves of oppressing heat radiating from the red sand.

Hell, even Jakku hadn’t been this unbearably hot.

Luckily, Darth Ragna didn’t have long to linger in her suffering for too long. An isolated base appeared before her, and along with it brought the beginning of her journey towards freedom. Taking out the guards would be quick work, especially with her abilities. Really, what could they offer themselves for protection? Blasters? A canon at most? Surely, nothing to suppress her unnatural abilities. A forgotten base such as this one would in no way be equipped with such advanced, expensive, and rare technology.

And so she began her fight. The blasters were easy to manipulate into disintegration, and their users were easy enough to mindlessly toss aside without a single touch. The first canon was just the same. The second canon was a surprise, but took just as little effort. Then the crew of the base rolled out another 3 canons simultaneously. She was falling behind in her attacks. She now played the role of the defence, and damn, was their offence growing stronger? Or was the heat of the sun really that bad? How comical. The sun bringing down someone as powerful as her.

But it wasn’t the sun. It was the syringe sticking out of her arm. Did these unintelligent life forms really just... gain the upper hand? Did they really just have the audacity to shoot her with… what was it?

What was-

The last thing she saw was the same damned red sand kicked in her face by the boots of the soldiers running towards her. She couldn’t even feel it stinging her eyes, coating her skin, dirtying her hair. And after another moment in slow motion, she lost her ability to keep her eyes open.

The last thing she registered was the sharp voice that eternally plagued her head; “you should be better than this, pathetic child.”

And then, she was nothing.

——

Rumbling.

Outside.

Outside where?

Where is inside?

Darth Ragna pushed herself off the ground. She spit out some of the red sand that still lingered in her mouth. How long had she been out? Why couldn’t she feel the force? How did those buffoons even get the upper hand?

She lifted up her arms to shake some of pesky sand that was in her hair. It was impossibly tangled in every direction, and the sweat and sand coating her head was making the itching on her scalp nearly unbearable. But something was impeding her attempt to soother herself; handcuffs. A very familiar model of handcuffs.

“If you can’t control yourself, then I get to control you. Understand, girl?”

A tall man with skin as pale as his soul and a grip to match pulls along a young girl, not even old enough to have 2 digits in her age.

“Please! I can! I can be good! I promise! I-“

He turns around and cuts her off sharply, “no! This is the last time you disobey me! If you didn’t want the cuffs, you would have contemplated your actions before you enacted them! Pray I don’t devise a worse punishment!”

A pair of handcuffs encircled her wrists. They were a clean chrome colour, that, when paired with the glowing blue technology underneath their surface, suppressed every ounce of ability to connect with the force. She was alone now.

It was the same type of handcuffs that were forced upon Ragna now.

But now, they were such a small problem compared to the IG-11 droid imposing over her body that was limp on the floor. She backed herself up the wall, trying to put as much space between herself and the killer droid as possible. After all, her powers in the force were useless, thanks to the cuffs, and she was useless against the droid.

But its focus was not on her, anyways.

Its target was stubbornly aimed on the pram to her right. She couldn’t see into it, but she new from the intel she was given back home that, if it was the asset she was sent to acquire, it was a child. The droid had its blaster aimed into its center; but it dropped to the ground with a hole in its head as suddenly and as unceremoniously as it had been brought into this world. Its effortless destruction was brought upon it before it got the chance to terminate the child.

But whatever managed to take out an IG-11 droid so very easily was more concerning to Darth Ragna; and that’s when she noticed the Mandalorian.

The visor of his silver helmet was trained upon her. The chest plates the colour of the sand beneath his feet rose and fell in gentle breaths; too gentle considering the energy he must have exerted to take out the guards outside. Speaking of which: if he could take them out, why couldn’t she? If she couldn’t out-fight a few hired guns, how the hell was she supposed to take out this beast of a Mandalorian? Even if her abilities in the force had been unsuppressed?

She thought quickly; the only way to get out of this alive was to out-wit the Mandalorian. If she was able to successfully convince him that she was sent here to care for the asset, then she might be able to gain his trust. And once she did, she would, quite literally, stab him in the back, and take the asset as her own bounty. And so, in a rushed, nearly unbelievable string of jumbled words, she put on, truly, her best act. But her rushed stammering, she could tell, did little to sway the bounty hunter. After her speech, he simply stared at her, unmoving.

Finally, after Ragna began to think that he would just end her then and there, he let out a gruff, “how do you explain the cuffs, then?”

His voice was like nothing she had ever heard; rough, raw, authentic. It stunned her into silence. It wasn’t until he let out a tensed, “well?” that she responded.

“They didn’t believe me! Even after showing them that I, too, am a wielder of the force, they still locked me up here!”

The Mandalorian was really going against his better judgement when he helped her up off the floor. But for Ragna, things were starting to go her way. She just had to sell her feigned kindness and hope that he warmed up to her quickly.

“Thank you! You have no idea how refreshing it is to have someone sane at a time like this! Imagine if those gunman had just left me here. How rude! I can’t even think of it! Truly, you live up to the reputation of your people! Now, if you would oblige me once more and take off these cuffs?”

The Mandalorian was already halfway out the door with the child, when he bluntly replied, “no.”

Well, damn.

——

And damn once more. Ragna had really expected her situation to be much easier than it was turning out to be. A caravan of Jawas had raided the Mandalorian’s ship for parts (not that there was much worth scavenging, as she bluntly said to the ship’s owner). Her new travel companion enlisted the help of a former ally to try and remedy the situation. An Ugnaut named Kuill, who mentioned in passing his indentured servitude in the Empire. Ragna stiffened. Did he… did he know of her? If he did, he didn’t seem to let on, a relief to Ragna. If she were to be found out, she would be facing instant death via Mandalorian.

Honestly, it was the damned cuffs. This whole ordeal could have been over and done with had that stubborn Mandalorian just taken those handcuffs off her. But until he did, she could do nothing to help in any way. Not when the Mandalorian went to fight the mudhorn did he take them off, and not even when he was fixing his ship. She could have helped and this all would have gone much faster, and she was sure to make that fact known to the Mandalorian in a feeble attempt to win his faith, but he did nothing but ignore her.

More importantly, she couldn’t carry out her plan to kill the Mandalorian and take the child to the Imperials herself if she was still held hostage in the force suppressing cuffs. She attempted to reach out to him; to establish a faux acquaintanceship with him in order to sway him into trusting her, but as soon as she initiated a conversation, he took the child and hid himself away in the cockpit. He locked the doors and didn’t dare retreat for the majority of the ride to Nevarro, as she believed he mentioned they were going, which was her last chance to enact any semblance of her plan. But alas, he still did not remove the force suppressing cuffs, and she was still disabled to the force. The Mandalorian’s contact, however, proved to not be useless to her and her situation. He was one of the Imperial councilmen that approved her bargain; the child’s obtainment for her freedom. The amount of time the client spent talking to the bounty hunter was excruciating, however, as soon as he left, she made herself and her bargain loud and clear to the Imperial client.

“I bargained that should the child be brought into Imperial hands, that I would be freed.”

The Imperial was a plump man with a disapproving face. He was smart, and not one to easily let go of what he felt belonged in Imperial clutches.

“And yet, you were not the one to bring in the asset, so I do believe that your contract has been voided.”

Her jaw squared. She would be damned if some bounty hunter got in the way of her freedom.

“I helped him. I led him to it. There were too many guards. Neither could have taken them alone. My contract never said I couldn’t employ the assistance of another,” Ragna was seething. All she could do was plead. There was no way she would let go of her freedom now; not when she was so close, and she wasn’t below laying herself down at the feet of this asshat to obtain what she wanted.

“And yet, you’re sitting here in the force suppressing handcuffs I know your father so dearly loves to see you in.”

A shiver ran down Ragna’s spine. But she ignored the implications. She would weasel her way out of this.

“He wanted assurance that I wouldn’t kill him and take the reward for myself. After seeing the reward was beskar, I can’t blame him. Now, I believe my obligations are fulfilled. Please remove the cuffs.”

The Imperial client regarded her for a moment. Honestly, with how much Ragna made the Empire put up with - all her fits and acts of rebellion against her training - she’d have thought they’d be glad to be rid of her. A fact she made clear to him in his glaring silence.

After a moment he acquiesced, and ordered one of the troopers to remove them.

She was free.

——

And how beautiful freedom was.

For all of about an hour.

Ragna was enjoying some street food native to Nevarro when she heard a commotion on the next street over. She shouldn’t have investigated. Really, she should have stowed away on the nearest ship and bailed, but something pulled her towards the trouble.

And she really, should have known what was the source.

There he was, that damned Mandalorian (only now in a shiny new set of armour), carrying the child to his ship. He was conversing with someone, who, Ragna didn’t know, but before she could try and decipher their conversation, her comm beeped from her satchel.

“Come in! Ragna come in!”

She really, really, shouldn’t have answered the damned call.

“Ragna! The bounty hunter I was informed you worked with in obtaining the asset just made off with it! Tore threw nearly a half dozen troopers! Apprehend he and the child immediately!”

Rage coursed through her. She was no longer an Imperial toy!

“How dare you? My contract has been fulfilled! It is no concern of mine what happens in Imperial matters now!”

A dark cackle comes through the comm. The poor quality of the speaker mixed it with static to give it a truly horrifying and maniacal texture.

“I thought you wanted freedom in order to better carry out the will of the Empire? I see now that you have betrayed me and this entire organisation. Foolish girl. Apprehend the bounty hunter and bring us the asset, or there will be not a single crevice of this galaxy that you can hide from me.”

The comm went silent. Sigh. Should she disregard her commands and hide herself away, she would never truly be free. If she brought in the bounty hunter and child, she would never have to worry about hiding from her Imperial keepers ever again. Ragna regarded her options. She had no ship, so chasing the Mandalorian around the galaxy in an attempt to kill him was off the table. She still had her original plan though. And now, as other bounty hunters swarmed him from every angle, she had the perfect opportunity to help fight them off.

Hopefully, that would be enough for the Mandalorian to seal some trust in her.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction

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colderthancoldest · 3 years

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Return Home To You

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: Last you heard from the Master, he was on his way to propose an alliance with some of the galaxy's worst criminals. When he finally returns, it's clear the meeting didn't go as planned.

Reader comforts the Master basically, fluff piece, loosely inspired by Hozier’s ‘Work Song’

Inspired by: This post by @flybi91

Warnings: Injuries, blood, ect

Word Count: About 2.2k

---

You've been worried about the Master for some time now. Last you saw him, he had been on his way to meet a very dangerous man about the possibility of a high-stakes alliance. He had dropped you off at your apartment to return to your normal life, citing that it was a better way you spent your time. However, you suspected he was secretly trying to keep you safe in case things went sideways.

You had begged him to be careful around such powerful and violent figures, but he had reassured you- the way he always does- that he knows what he's doing.

He promised you everything would be perfectly alright and he would return as soon as the deal was sealed.

That was 2 weeks ago.

'He has a time machine,' you tell yourself, 'he easily could have gotten the date wrong with a press of a button.'

'He could return any second and maybe only a few hours have passed for him,' you lie to yourself.

Normally, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to consider the possibility of a time machine missing it's mark by a few weeks- however you know him.

You know the Master, absolutely and completely. As he so often makes a point of, "You probably know me better than anyone ever has."

He would never leave you for this long without telling you. And more than than, he'd promised to return once his meeting was over. What could possibly be keeping him?

You try to distract yourself with anything you can think of just to starve off the sick feeling such worries bring, but they grow stronger every day. There's a nauseating, gnawing at your gut that perhaps something has happened to him and he's too hurt to make good on his promise.

You trust him, but the Master is only one man. There are some things beyond even his control.

You've been thinking about it all evening when you realize it's been three full weeks since you last saw him. You don't even care what's happened anymore, you just hope more than anything that he's not lying dead in a ditch on a planet you could never hope to reach alone.

It's a beautiful fall evening when you finally hear the familiar, rhythmic noise of the Tardis engines.

You convinced the Tardis to translate her manual once- you and his telepathic craft have a certain bond in that way- and diagnosed the wheezing sound as a simple issue of unoiled breaks.

The Master, without a doubt the most stubborn person you've ever met, refused to let you fix the problem- but the way he had looked at you that day still lingers in your mind as if it was yesterday.

You would give anything for him to look at you like that again. With so much love and intrigue and something almost impressed in those gorgeous deep eyes of his. More than anything, you need to see those perfect eyes once more and know that he's alright.

At the sound of the Tardis, you seek out the noise as quickly as you're able. You're almost happy he refused to change the noise because if he had, you may not have recognized it.

You find the familiar craft settled in an ally just around the corner. As you hurry over the walkway littered in colorful autumn leaves, you get the terrible feeling that the Tardis seems relieved to be found by you. You've had this feeling before- once when the Master had gotten into a particularly bad bar fight and the Tardis had returned his unconscious body to you- but it's stronger this time, and that terrifies you.

"What is it?" you breathe once she's in your sights. You're a little out of breath from tracking down the Tardis but you're not about to let that slow you down. The Tardis only swings open her doors for you.

You barely make it inside when your body freezes involuntarily and you stop. There's blood on the floor, a trail like a leaking container of milk through a grocery store. You can see the pattern of exactly where the Master had walked and for how long he stood there by the size of the tiny pools laid out before you.

As you enter, the Master's back is to you. Both of his hands are clutching tight to the controls of his ship and you immediately recognize that something's wrong from the way he has himself braced.

Just as quickly as you had stopped, you run to him.

"Are you alright? I mean, obviously not but- Tell me how to help," you quickly ask the Master, your words tumbling out nervously.

He refuses to look at you.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," he breathes as a small string of blood escapes his lips.

He stands there like he's okay, but you know for certain that he's not. If he was, he would have spun around in that theatrical way he likes to and flash you a bright, award-winning smile. Instead he only stands there with his hands gripping tight to the stand like he can barely do just that.

"She brought me here anyways," the Master considers quietly, clearly referring to the Tardis.

He doesn't sound like he's fully there as he gives you a small laugh, barely a little huff of amusement, and his grip falters for a second.

His hands were coated in blood, far too much for you to know where or who it had come from. All you know is that it's a bad sign.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Let me help you," you offer.

No response.

"Tell me how to help you," you then add more firmly when it appears he didn't quite hear you.

The sharpness in your tone gets his attention.

"I'm sorry," he says. His voice crackles and he finally turns to look at you.

The side of his face is bruised terribly. His lips are bleeding profusely from numerous cuts against his teeth. His left side is bleeding, he shifts all his weight to one leg so it doesn't seem too obvious that the other is injured. There's blood smeared down nearly every square inch of his clothes and you're not sure what's worse- if it's his or someone else's.

You take his face gently in your hands and allow his soft skin and sharp beard to mix sensations beneath your fingertips.

"Look at me," you ask.

He can barely get his eyes to stay on you. They keep focusing in and out of reality and you're half certain he's going to pass out when he finally locks those eyes on you.

All at once, you know you can fix this because there he is again. At the end of the day, all he is is another living soul and, no matter what happens, he'll always return home to you.

"You're going to be okay," you promise softly, "Don't worry about explaining right now. Just tell me how to help."

He breathes something weak, perhaps a sigh of relief, and nods.

"There's a medbay," his mouth and voice crackle from the tears slowly filling his eyes and the blood threatening to fill his throat.

"The Tardis can show you the extent of my injuries and help to patch me up," the Master says before forcing himself to take a deep breath.

"Alright," you agree as you pull one of the Master's arms over your shoulders and wrap your own arm around his side to guide him.

One of his legs is clearly badly injured, but he doesn't do much more than wince as you help him down one of the concealed halls. Thankfully, the Tardis understands the Master's situation and not only moves the room closer, but also opens all the doors for you.

The Master is relieved when his body finally falls into a small, hospital-like bed in the aforementioned medbay. He gives a low groan at the effort it takes, but he seems much happier once he can rest.

The Tardis performs a scan and begins her own work patching up the worst of the Master's wounds with a small claw-like arm. It cuts away a small gap in the torn fabric, cleans the wound, and then goes to work with some futuristic stitches.

Medicine was never your procession, so you do what you can by getting a damp cloth to wipe off some of the blood. If it's his, then you have to make sure he isn't bleeding anywhere else.

Usually the Master is all jokes and gallows humor, but he barely seems able to stay conscious. The fact that he's still trying to stay awake worries you. You wonder what he thinks will happen if he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," he tries again. "This isn't your job but I-"

He stops and weakly turns his head away from you, trying to hide the more damaged side of his face.

"Have nowhere else to go?" you ask softly.

He closes his eyes and tries to hide his expression, but you know that's what he meant.

You push the barrier down on the side of the bed and lean down to reach him. You wrap one arm around his back and move the over to hold the back of his head as you hug him.

His arms immediately reach up to hold you in return. You can practically feel the tremor in his hands as his arms tighten around you.

"I was scared I would regenerate," he confesses softly into your shoulder. He was getting blood everywhere, but it was a small price to pay to comfort him.

The Master's arms tightened and despite the way his muscles shook and strained to keep a hold of you, he refuses to let go for a minute more.

"I was scared I wouldn't see you again. This me anyways. And what if I came back as someone else? What if you... didn't feel the same way about them?"

You lean closer into him so he doesn't have to strain as much. You run your fingers through his hair and do your best to sooth him as the Tardis does her best to patch the deep tear in his side. Slowly and gradually, you know it's working by the way his fingers gently loosen on the fistfuls of your clothes.

"We would have figured it out," you promise him, "But with that said, please try not to die."

He laughs a little at that and it's enough to let you know that he'll be alright if he can pull through the worst of this.

Eventually, when he's stable and calm enough, you settle him to lay down and he lets you pull away. You catch a glimpse of gold flicker across the top of his hand, now clean from blood, and just as quickly disappear. The Master looks like he's perfectly content pretending he didn't catch you notice how bad a condition he's in- and yet you can't help but smile.

"You always have been the most stubborn person I've ever met," you chuckle a little.

"Ever the survivor, me," he replies quietly with a smirk.

You look him over once more. He's even more exhausted than before now that the fear and adrenaline have worn off. The Tardis has given him some medicine to counter what you know must be agony. Still, he's in pain, and you can't help but wonder how often he goes through it alone.

"You can always come back to me, you know," you assure him as you pull up a chair and lean down to his level.

He turns to look at you, his deep eyes so loving and gentle as they look over you. You can see that he believes you, and it's enough to bring tears to the edges of his vision.

"No matter what," you promise firmly.

The Master swallows back his tears and blood.

"You'll stay?" he asks softly, almost in disbelief, "You won't get scared and leave?"

You smile, a deep and sad smile, because he should really know this by now. He should know that you're loyal to a fault, just as he is.

It's a tight fit, but you climb into the bed next to him and settle yourself against his less-wounded side. You retrieve an ice pack from the table next to you and offer it to the Master for the damaged side of his face. He holds it to his bruises as you hold him and watch for his breathing as the Tardis's scan confirms he's healing properly.

"You're lucky," you tell him with your head on his shoulder. You're covered in blood by this point too, but it doesn't really matter.

"You're stable for now," you explain. "Once I can move you without aggravating your wounds we'll get you properly cleaned up," you assure him.

The Master hums in agreement as he begins to drift off. Now that he knows he's in safe hands and that he won't be regenerating anytime soon- not to mention the medication that's finally kicked in- he finally appears to be okay with letting go of the conscious world.

"Yes," he agrees quietly with one arm settled around you and his other hands in yours, "I suppose I am quite lucky."

#i don't usually write in this style #but i liked the prompt #this was a fun change of pace #i hope it's alright #please tell me what you think <3 #dhawan!master #dhawan master #doctor who #dhawan master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #doctor who fic

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quicksilversquared · 4 years

Text

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 2

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

Knocks at her window well after dark and after her mom had gone to bed were rarely a good thing, particularly in a city with that had akumas popping up every other day whenever someone got upset.

Lila knew that she was sitting perched on top of a mountain of lies. If someone somehow found out and got mad, that could more than explain a knock at her window at night. Except...

Well, an akuma wouldn't knock, would they? Smashing through walls was much more their style.

A second knock sounded, clearly much more impatient. Ever-so-cautiously, Lila finally pushed herself off of her bed and approached her window, squinting into the dark outside. A large shape came into focus, and then Lila caught sight of a purple suit and a full-head silver mask.

Hawkmoth.

Grinning, Lila scrambled to open her window and let Hawkmoth in. Maybe most people in Paris would be screaming and running in the opposite direction, but they were weak. Hawkmoth offered power and opportunities, kinds that she would never get otherwise. Whatever he had come for- whatever new opportunity he was offering- she was going to grab onto it with both hands and not let go.

"Ms. Rossi," Hawkmoth greeted her coolly, slipping through the opening. He straightened, and- okay, he was tall. Lila straightened reflexively, hoping not to feel so small next to him, but it didn't do much to close the height gap. "I hope this evening finds you well?"

Lila nodded, trying to keep herself from looking too eager. "I'm doing all right. And you?"

"Well enough." Hawkmoth glanced around, his steely eyes catching on the door. Lila followed his gaze, then immediately picked up on his concern.

"My mom is asleep already," she assured him hastily, not wanting him to decide to leave and not tell her about whatever opportunity he had clearly decided to offer. "And she's the only other one who lives in this apartment. And she's a heavy sleeper, so she shouldn't wake up randomly."

Hawkmoth nodded sharply. "Good."

"So, uh, how can I help you?" Lila asked, wondering if it would be proper etiquette to offer a supervillain a chair. It would make him not tower so much, but she also suspected that he wasn't planning on lingering. It would be better to get straight to the point. It would show respect for his time, and that would help make a good impression. "Do you need an akuma with specific powers or something? I can do that!"

"Not at the moment, but I will keep that in mind for the future. No, what I have in mind is a little more responsibility than that." Hawkmoth reached into a pocket, pulling out a small drawstring bag. "Mayura is unable to come out and join me on the battlefield for a undetermined period of time. Normally, I would simply go back to just sending out akumas. But I don't want to give Ladybug and Chat Noir time to re-build their superhero team more than they already have."

Lila's eyes went wide and she started nodding at once, already putting together what Hawkmoth had come to her for. "Right. And you don't want to give their backup team more time to practice and get better."

"Precisely. So I need a temporary holder until Mayura can return." Hawkmoth stared at her, steely-eyed and intimidating. Lila gulped and straightened up again, trying her best to look reliable. This was an incredible opportunity, and she was not going to let it simply slip by. "So what I want to know is... can I trust you?"

Lila had to stop herself from nodding like a frantic bobblehead doll. She didn't want to come off as an overly-excitable teenager. It was just- well, this was the opportunity to help get back at Ladybug that she hadn't ever expected. She had thought that her only chances were going to be to occasional (or not-so-occasional) akumatizations, where she would maybe be allowed to have some influence in what powers she got. But now, to get a Miraculous- even if it was only for a short while, until whenever Mayura returned- that was amazing.

She would get to go after Ladybug during every fight. And she could dream up the perfect sentimonster to go against the annoying superhero, one that could maybe be the one to take Ladybug down once and for all. If she got to coordinate with Hawkmoth, then they could maybe do a sentimonster-akuma pairing that would be incredibly strong-

-she was getting ahead of herself. Lila had to be calm, and work on gaining Hawkmoth's trust before she started making suggestions. She would have to be more cautious than she was with her classmates, since Hawkmoth was an adult, and probably a proud and paranoid one at that. That meant that he wouldn't be so quick to completely trust her. Trying to maneuver to be a more important part of his team right away would probably just result in her opportunity being ripped away from her.

Besides, he could sense emotions, right? So that meant that she had to be way more careful than usual.

"Of course you can trust me," Lila assured him, refraining from pressing a sincere hand to her heart. It worked at school, but with the supervillain it would probably appear dramatic and over-the-top. And maybe he was probably a bit dramatic and over-the-top (definitely so, if the fact that he had akumas providing a soundtrack for him on Heroes Day was any indication), but something told her that he wouldn't appreciate that in a potential ally.

Besides, he knew that she liked lying and manipulating, and so steering away from those mannerisms during her interactions with him would probably go over better.

"Good." Hawkmoth nodded once, sharply, then passed the drawstring over to her. Lila's fingers trembled as she practically tore the strings open to pull out the pin inside. A blue bubble burst into being as soon as her fingers touched the pin, and then it popped and revealed a blue floating...thing. "This is Duusu. Take good care of him. Now... let's discuss specifics."

The next morning, Lila added a simple scarf to her outfit to cover the Peacock pin and give Duusu somewhere to hide. It felt a little odd to have a constant companion, but that was the price she had to pay for power.

She could not possibly look forward to the next akuma attack more. She just wanted to get out on the battlefield and kick Ladybug's butt. Lila had even found a generic keychain that she could put the amok in and tucked it in her pocket, so it would stay with her and Ladybug and Chat Noir would have to work harder to defeat the sentimonster.

"Ah, that's a nice scarf, Lila," Mrs. Rossi commented, setting Lila's breakfast down in front of her. "I don't recognize it- is it from one of your friends at school?"

"Oh, it's from Adrien," Lila claimed at once, running one hand down the scarf. It wasn't, of course- it was just something that she had stolen from one of her photoshoots- but since it was Gabriel brand, it was believable enough. "He said it went well with my hair."

"It really does. That's very sweet of him." Mrs. Rossi grabbed her own half-eaten plate from the counter, sitting down across the table to finish her breakfast. "Will you be out with your friends again today after school?"

"Yes, I've been invited to come along to a couple clubs this week and check them out," Lila lied. Or- well, it was a partial lie, at least. Several of her classmates had extended invitations for her to come check out the clubs at the school, but that had happened ages ago and besides, Lila just wasn't interested. It would be more adults that she had to interact with and make excuses to when she was 'on a trip', and while she had been on a roll with the number of adults who were just believing her without any questions it just wasn't worth the risk. "So I'll be busy."

Not that it made any difference to her mom, really. She would be at work regardless. It was just- well, it was good to keep up the illusion that she was always with her friends and 'boyfriend'. And if an akuma attacked and her mom tried to get in contact with her, then she would have an excuse for not picking up, since her mom would expect that she would be busy.

"Fantastic!" Mrs. Rossi smiled, then scraped up the last couple bites of bites on her plate and shoved them in her mouth, rising from the table and carrying her plate to the sink. "I have to get going to the embassy, since the ambassador has a whole pile of paperwork that he needs pulled together for his meeting this morning, but I made lunch for you. It's in the fridge. And if you have any menu requests, just text me during the day. I'm going to make a grocery run after work."

"Okay." Lila smiled at her mom, waiting for her to leave before rolling her eyes. She knew exactly what was in her packed lunch, and she would much rather go out to eat or have whatever was in the cafeteria. But she and her mom had argued about Lila getting lunch money instead of bringing a lunch only a few days ago and she hadn't won the argument- apparently it was cheaper to just bring a sandwich every day, as if that was important. If her mom was actually an ambassador and not just a secretary for the ambassador, then Lila would be able to afford to buy lunch every day.

She would use her earnings from the photoshoots, but she needed that money to buy new outfits. If she didn't stay in fashion and wear nice clothes, then her credibility would start slipping.

Daughters of the ambassadors and friends of celebrities simply didn't wear off-brand clothing after all. And while that maybe forced Lila into the same handful of outfits over and over, she had managed to explain that away by claiming it was for environmental awareness reasons.

Maybe she could claim that about her lunches, too. Except- well, it probably wasn't a good idea to use the same excuses too often. Maybe she could claim that she had decided to divert her lunch money to a charity for child hunger, since there were starving children across the world who could use it more than her. Yes, that sounded like a good excuse.

...it still wouldn't make her sandwich taste any better. Maybe she could at least persuade her mom to pack something better for her lunch if Lila stopped arguing about eating out every day.

With a couple more quick bites, Lila finished up her breakfast and stuck her plate in the sink. It didn't take her long to collect her school things- including her lunch, which was definitely a boring old sandwich- and then head down to the bus stop to ride over to school.

As she waited for the bus, Lila's mind went back to the night before. She was still super excited about the opportunity, even though- well, it came with some risks, Hawkmoth had made that clear. Risks, and also an ally that had made it very clear that he Did Not fully trust her, at least not yet.

There had definitely been some not-so-veiled threats against her mom for if Lila decided to 'take liberties' while she had the Peacock Miraculous. And while Lila was really more or less indifferent about her mom, if anything happened to her and Lila had to be placed with a foster family or something...

Well, that wouldn't be a good thing. But that was fine, because she wasn't planning on pulling anything stupid while she had the Miraculous, like trying to keep it after Mayura became available again or trying to manipulate him to do what she wanted, even if it conflicted with his goals. After all, their goals already lined up- she just wanted to take down Ladybug and get her revenge, even if Ladybug (unfortunately) now wouldn't know who was behind her defeat.

Lila supposed that it didn't really matter if Ladybug knew or not in the end. All that was important was taking her down.

Hopefully the superheroes' defeat would happen while Lila was still involved, before Mayura came back. Maybe the supervillain team's shake-up would be just what they needed to finally make the jump from always narrowly losing to actually winning. Lila could bring in new ideas, new plots, and a new pair of eyes. She didn't even necessarily have to convince Hawkmoth of all of them- some, she could just carry out on her own.

And no, he hadn't forbidden that. If he wanted her to follow his lead, she would. But she also had to be independent, able to fight on her own and act independently when Hawkmoth's focus had to be elsewhere in the battle. She could carry out her ideas then, and maybe they would turn out to be just what Hawkmoth needed. He would get the Miraculous for whatever he needed them for, and- well, he would reward her for her help, right? Maybe she would get another Miraculous to use, one she would get to keep permanently.

Which one would she want? Lila tilted her head, considering. Maybe the Ladybug Miraculous, to really rub it into Ladybug's face. It would be a trophy. And she would go out often, just to rub it in her nemesis' face. But maybe Hawkmoth would need to keep that one and she would have to choose another. Presumably he would be able to retrieve the box of Miraculous from Ladybug after she was defeated, so Lila would be able to take her pick. There would be a lot of choices, a lot of tempting offers.

Her first choice- after the Ladybug Miraculous, for gloating reasons- would be the Fox. Those powers were what she had used most often when she was akumatized, and they were familiar and useful. She could make illusions of herself with all sorts of famous people and take pictures and show them off to further discredit annoying little dissenters. She could make illusions of the aforementioned dissenters doing bad things, just to get them in trouble. It would be super useful, even if the actual Fox Miraculous was apparently a tad more limited in the amount of power it had compared to her akuma self.

Another choice would be the Horse, maybe. She could hop over to other countries and actually call in to her classes from there for added realism when she was off 'traveling'! She might even be able to meet some of the people she was always claiming connections to and actually start forming those connections- though that might be a bit of a stretch. She was smart enough to know that a few chance encounters would not automatically lead to songs written about her and promises to always drop everything to do things on her request. So maybe the Horse wouldn't be quite as useful.

Maybe there was a kwami of manipulation among the ones Ladybug held on to. That would be really useful, something she could use to force the famous people connections and make all of her dreams reality. It would make manipulating her peers easier, too- or at least more foolproof- and that would be really, really helpful. That would be the ideal Miraculous for her, if it even existed.

All she had to do was be the best sidekick Hawkmoth had ever had and defeat Ladybug. And once that was done, and she had her own source of power- an unconditional source, no threats to her (or, she supposed, to her mom's) general well-being- then, well, then would come rewards to her civilian self. And after that?

Well, the world would be open to her, and the possibilities were endless.

The bus pulled up and for once, Lila had a real smile on her face as she got on. Maybe for everyone else on the bus, it was just a normal day. But for her?

It was the start of a new era.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #The Wavering Peahen

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Warmth: Prologue (3/3)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimers: Besides the prologues, I will be posting the first 1000 or so words of every new/next chapter. There will be a link to my AO3 at the end of the post, where the full chapters are at!

Warnings: none

Masterlist: (coming soon)

By the time the council for you is ready, you're retrieved from your wooden cell and escorted down the unfamiliar halls of the castle. It was night time once again. You're eventually brought to a large room, a dais on the opposite side of where you enter. On the platform sat Nobunaga, armor no longer being worn and now clad in lighter, casual clothes. The guards sent to retrieve you practically shove you into the room before sliding the doors behind you and leave you for the slaughter.

Besides Nobunaga were familiar faces. Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide sat to his right and left respectively. Next to Hideyoshi, Mitsunari and a man with blond hair and green eyes that you hadn't yet met. Masamune was the lone person next to Mitsuhide. You wonder which is the judge, the jury, and the executioner. The role of executioner is quickly assigned to Mitsuhide.

"Don't just stand there," Nobunaga broke the silence. "Approach me."

You obediently walk forward until you were a respectable distance from all 6 of them before lowering yourself on the tatami. You try not to shake under their scrutinizing gaze.

As soon as you're seated, Nobunaga speaks again. "Now that you've had time to relax and reevaluate the situation, I will ask once more. Who are you, and where do you hail from?"

You're compelled to tell him that he technically knows the answer to the first part of his question. Unfortunately, being a smartass would just make things worse for you. You did reevaluate your choices during your trip to Azuchi and in your cell. You concluded that remaining silent would no longer help you, but in fact hurt you. You doubt they would believe the truth of you hailing from the future, which could potentially make things even more worse. Even if you prove the validity of your claims, you don't have enough information about the people before you to determine whether or not they would use the fact you're from the modern age to their advantage and what that advantage would entail.

You certainly weren't going to tell them you were a god. That would no doubt put you in immediate danger. The power of healing is an attractive power and so is the power over death that your rival-turned-ally just so happens to embody. In conclusion, you couldn't tell them the truth. There were too many negatives that outweighed the few positives you could think of. You couldn't tell them, but the least you can do is explain to them why you can't.

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you." Hideyoshi makes a move to protest, but you cut him off by continuing. "Not to say that I don't want to. I want to tell you all my situation, but it would be extremely dangerous for me if I do."

The blond one rolls his eyes and scoffs, "That's a rather convenient excuse."

"It is," Hideyoshi nods, eyes never once leaving your person. "This woman is clearly untrustable and a liability no doubt. We should send her away and be done with this, my Lord."

"I'm sure our Lord would gladly send her back home. The only problem is we still don't know where her home is," Mitsuhide says. "I have my doubts about her claims of being in some sort of danger, but until we can figure out where it is we should send her, we're unfortunately at a bit of a deadlock."

Hideyoshi looks like he wants to disagree with Mitsuhide, but he reluctantly agrees with everything he said.

Nobunaga speaks your name and you sit up straighter. "Whatever threat is keeping you from speaking, you may consider yourself in safe hands. Tell us the names of those who wish to harm and you have my word that they will be dealt with."

It was relieving to hear that if some sort of third party was threatening you, they would keep you safe and even get rid of the threat. Such an offer was unfortunately unfulfillable. They were threats too.

you shake your head. "You don't understand. If I tell you my truth, there's a chance you all might turn against me. That you might string me up like a puppet and pull my strings until my limbs tear apart. You can sit there and promise me of never doing such a thing. However, the fact that chance exists is enough to make me bite my tongue."

You were on the verge of tears. Never in your life did you hate being a god as much as you do now. No matter how many lives you save, you will always be under threat by the very beings you heal. Maybe Kuro was right in wanting to mark mortals for death. Maybe you were in the wrong this whole time by wanting to reverse their ailments and give humans a second chance at life. For gods' sake, you had to spend 50 years on your lonesome just to restart your life among society, time after time because you felt, and still feel, like you cannot trust anyone with your secret.

You were never trying to play at being a god. Truly, you were trying to play at being human. You will never be one no matter how well you got along with humanity. You felt cold. Cold, alone, and scared of the mortals that sat before you and looked down on you as if you were the biggest inconvenience to them.

Perhaps I was nothing but a burden to my-

As if sensing the downward direction of your thoughts, Kuro does the only thing he knows will grab your attention. He bites you, the hardest he ever has. The pain was so excruciating that you had to grab hold of him by his jaw and throw him off of you.

Mitsunari is the first to break, swiftly making his way towards you despite Hideyoshi's protests. He pulls you back towards him and holds you steady. "Are you alright?" he asks you, concern engulfing his purple eyes.

At this point, a few tears had been shed and your voice was warped from the rising sadness within your throat. "Y-Yeah. His biting stopped my thoughts from spiraling."

You give a thankful nod to Kuro. He nods in return as thanks for you continuing to cover for him.

You turn back towards them, "If..If you want to get rid of me I can leave without making a fuss. I can get by just fine on my own."

No one agrees with or protests your offer. The sight of you, clearly distressed and out of your element, makes them all feel somewhat shameful for treating you as if you were some dangerous criminal up until now. You clearly meant no harm. You didn't even want to burden them with your presence. You were scared and on your own against a group of men you didn't even know.

Nobunaga calls your name once more, This time with much more gentleness than the times before. "I see now that, despite how young you are, you've been through your fair share of ordeals. You clearly cannot muster within yourself the ability to trust anyone due to circumstances. Henceforth, I will allow for you to reside in this castle in exchange for your services to me, until you feel you are ready to come forth and divulge in us the names of those who seek to do you harm."

The tension in the room begins to dissipate. You all but fall to your still scraped knees with relief. This is perfect. You would be granted sanctuary and still maintain a veil of secrecy, within reason no doubt. The others clearly have their reservations over the arrangements, but seeing you no longer on edge lightens the atmosphere significantly. Kuro, no longer presented with a reason to continue lunging at the others, relaxes his tightly wound body for the first time since coming here.

You stretch your palm out towards your companion and he crawls on you without protest, situating himself around your neck once again. Strangely enough, you've grown used to having him in your person in the past day. Now that you two have an alliance of sorts you feel a bit more trusting of him. Maybe this time traveling ordeal will result in you two coming to some sort of understanding with one another. It would honestly do you both good if you worked together than fight all the time.

"I have yet to hear your answer. Will you accept my offer?" Nobunaga asks.

You vigorously nod. "Yes! It's a definite yes. I'll gladly offer whatever services I can give in exchange for lodgings."

He smiles at your enthusiasm. "In that case, I assign you as my chatelaine."

Chatelaine. That's a caretaker of a large house. Sounds like a simple enough job.

"That is an excellent idea," Mitsunari congratulates you. "I will provide you with all the support you need!"

"I'll be counting on you," you tell him.

As you all begin to discuss further details of your arrangement, an uninvited guest sighs in relief at the turn of events from the ceiling.

________________________________________________________________

Once the meeting concludes, you're escorted by Mitsunari to what will be your new room. You didn't expect it to be so large, beautifully furnished too. You would have been fine if they gave you a wooden box for all you care, but that would likely be a dead giveaway. You're painfully reminded of the fact that you won't be living alone anymore or with some distance from other mortals.

You'll have to put in extra effort in order to blend in. That would mean you would have to start eating and sleeping again. You haven't eaten or slept in nearly 300 years. You don't even remember the difference between sweetness and spiciness or what your favorite dishes were.

"Are you alright? You've been frowning this entire time," Mitsunari, ever the angel, looks at you with concern.

"Sorry! I'm still in disbelief. I honestly thought the night would end with me being thrown out onto the streets," you sheepishly say.

"Our lord would have never treated you so harshly, even if he chose to send you away. He can be intimidating at times, I admit. Underneath his tough exterior he is a very generous, but fair, lord."

You find it hard to believe, but the switch in his demeanor from earlier is sufficient evidence to prove the truth in Mitsunari's words. He seems to be the top dog around here. If he was able to exercise leniency to you despite your mysterious origins then you can surely get by alright. You would just have to meet in the middle and become a positive addition to the people here. You've had decades of practice on blending in. You can do this!

"Hey, can I ask you something real quick?"

Mitsunari halts his search for your futon and turns to you. "Anything at all!"

"As chatelaine, what am I expected to do?"

Mitsunari thinks for a moment. "We haven't had a chatelaine before, so I unfortunately can't provide any sound examples. Most likely, you will care for the needs of the castle and residents here as the maids would."

That sounds doable. "Could you introduce me to the maids tomorrow then?"

"I would be honored to! I do have my own duties to attend to though. Hideyoshi is close with most of them, so if I'm unable to retrieve you myself I'll send him in my stead."

Hideyoshi. He's Nobunaga's right hand. He's the one Kuro lunged towards back at the camp. Despite Nobunaga giving his permission for you to stay, he clearly had his own opinions. Understandable, really. You'll have to remind yourself that any harshness towards you from him will be within reason. Hopefully he can learn to tolerate you, and you of him.

"It is late. I will leave for tonight and allow you to rest. It is an honor to have you with us. Sleep well."

Mitsunari gives you one last smile before he exits your room and you're finally left to your own devices. Before you can fall back into the plushness of your futon, you hear a shuffling above you within the ceiling.

"Don't be alarmed," a voice calls out to you. "I'm going to jump down from the ceiling. Is that alright?"

You can't pinpoint the exact source of the voice. Normally, you should be alarmed. Yet even when its muffled, that voice sounds very familiar. You look down to Kuro and he nods. If anything goes wrong, he'll handle it.

"You may," you try to keep your voice down to not draw attention but to also allow for whoever was in the ceiling to hear you.

One of the wooden panels is quietly moved from its place. A person, another man, jumps down and lands in complete silence. Impressive.

"Sorry for the intrusion. Before I begin to explain my reason for visiting at such a late hour, may I ask if you remember me?"

He lowers his mask to reveal his face in full. You do remember him. It was the same man you encountered at the monument. He wasn't wearing his lab coat anymore. His clothing was more in style to the garments everyone else wore. His attire looks as though it allows for better mobility. "I do. From the looks of it, you seem to be better adjusted. Did you perhaps arrive earlier than I did?"

He's shocked that you've deduced the situation so quickly. You were calm as well. He took this as a good sign.

"You're spot on. My name is Sasuke Sarutobi, post-graduate astrophysicist-turned-ninja."

After you introduce yourself to Sasuke. He wastes no time in explaining the circumstances of your apparent time travel. It was hard to grasp even his simplified version, but you were able to figure out that a phenomenon (the storm) is what sent you two back in time. He explained his arrival was 4 years prior to yours and that he's been on the lookout for you while still fulfilling his duties to his employer and adjusting to life here. "I apologize for dragging you into this-"

You cut off his apology with the lift of your hand. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sure you'll argue that, even then, there was a chance I could have ended in more dangerous situation. I didn't and that's all there is to it. You have my gratitude for worrying about my well-being for so long."

You bow to him and he accepts your thanks with a bow of his own. Before he can right himself up, he takes notice of Kuro.

Please don't freak out!

"Is that...a snake?"

You nod. "He's my...he's a friend. He won't bite if you leave him be."

"I see. I will keep that in mind. What's his name?"

"Kuro. Unoriginal, I know."

He laughs at your admittance of poor naming skills. You give Kuro a pat on the head. He seems annoyed at your touch but doesn't try to shake you off or hiss at you. You view it as a start towards a better relationship between you two.

"I have one more thing to say. Since this time period was, or rather is, ravaged with war, it's best you remain here until the next wormhole reopens in three months."

"We'll be able to return to our time then, right?"

"Yes. I've estimated the time of its appearance, but not its location. I'll try to have that information as soon as possible. Is that alright?"

"Take all the time you need. I wish you the best until then."

He smiles, "I'll be sure to stop by every now and then to check on you. Until we meet again."

He jumps up with ease and back into the ceiling. The panel is placed back in it's spot and the room is quiet once again. Finally, you're alone for real this time. You're surprised how worn out you feel for once. Deciding now would be a better time than ever to get back into the rhythm of sleep, you crawl under the covers of your already made bed. Kuro follows suit, coiling into himself on top of you.

"It's pretty chilly. Here," you get up, "I'll lend you my sweater."

Mitsunari went out of his way to keep watch over your bag. You make a note to find a way to repay his kindness before you leave in 3 months. You unzip your bag and pull out your wool cardigan, slightly creased from being folded for so long. Hopefully this will do as a bed for Kuro for a while. You make yet another note to make Kuro some sort of proper bed when you get the chance.

Even if work turns out to be boring here, I have a bunch of personal obligations to keep myself busy for a while.

Kuro finds his spot within the sleeve of your cardigan. You giggle a bit, seeing the long bump he made from underneath the fabric. You blow out the light from your lantern and situate yourself back under the covers. You close your eyes and relax each part of your body one at a time. Starting with your toes and ending at the tip of your nose.

You fall asleep within the familiar black nothingness, feeling warm once again.

________________________________________________________________

Previous chapter

Finished the prologue and want to read more? Click here!

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen series #otome #ikemen sengoku writing #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #writing #ikesen writing #ikesen fanfic #fanfic: warmth #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years

Text

Erendor x Samara Headcanons

This somehow happened... even though they are literally my least favorite Winx characters. I wanted to develop them somewhat more so that I could stop despising them so much. I think it worked... even though there are some problematic things.

TW for mentions of murder and infertility.

It was a semi arranged marriage in that Erendor was the one who was having negotiations with Samara’s family since he was already king. His parents were currently residing at one of their numerous estates, however, and were as removed from the ruling of the kingdom as possible since the monarchy was hanging by a thread. Erendor had to find a way to settle the growing tension for which he needed some strong allies and it just so happened that Samara’s family was the most influential.

Samara was actually a second child but her elder sister was already promised to a nobleman from another famous lineage and pulling that apart would be bad for the monarchy as well as the other family was bound to turn against them. So Erendor was to marry Samara and have the endorsement not only of her family, but also the new house that her sister was to join soon. They had a perfunctory engagement that only served to not make it look like the situation of the monarchy was so dire that Erendor was taking desperate measures to stabilize it. They married as soon as possible to fortify the alliance and start working on continuing the royal bloodline.

Samara was extremely good at pretending and showing exactly what was expected of her. Her mother had been dragging her to beauty pageants ever since she’d had anything to show in the talent portions of the competitions and she’d learned from little to read what people expected from her and then show them just what they wanted to see. She could get under anyone’s skin and steer them into doing whatever she wanted. It was the skill she’d perfected while her sister had spent more time in education as they’d hoped for a better marriage for her. Samara’s mother had hoped exactly for that result as it gave them guarantee that Samara would be able to control her husband while they controlled her to give them even more influence and power.

Erendor was wary of Samara at first. He was way more observant back then when the future was being built on a day to day basis and he’d seen enough to know she could charm anyone, which made her the one with the real power in their marriage. He had to win her over on his side if he wanted to ever have any real control over Eraklyon and that would be a challenge since she already had everything she could want, including the crown. He could never beat her at her own game so he tried a different approach by being dangerously honest with her which threw her off every time to give him an opportunity to peek under her facade and get to know her better.

He learned that the price of her smile was a ring on her finger and the price of her heart was holding her hand in his. She was indeed used to getting everything she wanted but he hadn’t known she wanted commitment to her that her family had never shown as they’d been using her ever since she’d learned to walk and freedom that she could only get if she had more power in her grasp than her mother held. He paid enough attention to her to learn how to never disappoint her with a gift and gave her the choice of what to do with the power she held – give him equal control of it by taking his hand or keep being pulled like a doll by the strings her mother had wrapped around her until death cut them off. He gave her the decision to choose whose hands to put the control over the kingdom in and that was more than her family had ever given her.

Her mother never expected that Samara could choose her husband over them. She’d never thought that a man could win her daughter’s trust after she’d raised her to view people as means to an end because that was how they’d view her. It was too late by the time she realized she’d made a mistake by demonstrating that to Samara herself. Her daughter had all the important people in her hand and she put them in Erendor’s pocket to throw her family so out of the loop they would never be able to come back. They lost any control they had not just over the kingdom but over most of their estate and assets as well and had to leave Eraklyon before Samara bankrupted them completely. She didn’t spare the family her sister married into either in case her mother tried to make her comeback via them and all the wealth was distributed to the struggling economical branches to patch up both the holes in the kingdom’s resources and those in the people’s trust.

The monarchy was saved and the two of them were left with their blooming alliance. They got along perfectly when he asked her opinion on everything and let her handle most of the diplomacy, only ever interfering when his presence was needed. Outside of the throne room, their shared time was limited by mutual agreement. Samara liked to use her newly found freedom to choose her personal endeavors herself and Erendor could use the break on his ego (he knows he couldn’t have done it without her but sometimes it is still hard to swallow his pride even though Samara has never flaunted the fact in his face, perhaps due to her own experiences of being dependent on someone else).

Besides, it takes them both a little while to process whatever slips into one of those honest conversations they tend to have in the middle of the night–there’s always room for Samara in his bedchamber and she’s rarely refused an invitation to go as well–or early in the morning over breakfast. He still catches her off guard–and himself, too–when he admits something that requires trust that their mutually beneficial deal does not justify. Samara actually likes it because it feels like she can trust it’s real and she’s even confessed a couple of things herself on her own initiative even though the word love has never been approached by either one of them. Erendor’s honesty is always blunt and has zero romance to it but Samara prefers it that way as she’s not sure how long it will take her to trust romance.

It all seemed well until they learned that Samara had fertility issues that got in the way of conceiving an heir. Samara retreated and locked herself into her bedchamber. She wouldn’t even let Erendor in, let alone go to the throne room or even the dining hall. Erendor had to forbid all maids and other servants from going to her until she came out, steaming about him breaking their deal that they were equals and he couldn’t control her. Not the best plan to get her to talk in hindsight but he didn’t have much choice.

They talked once Erendor explained himself and she calmed down. She was upset not only over the discovery of her problem but also over the fact that all their efforts in putting the monarchy back together had been wasted. Erendor tries to reassure that nothing has changed – she is still the queen (aka indirectly reassuring her that he wouldn’t divorce her over that which not only went through her head but she was also leaning towards after he broke their deal). They can still adopt a child and the monarchy will have an heir. Samara warns him that his brother will not stand to have someone outside the bloodline take the throne from under his nose. She knows the ambition and bitterness of being a second child and her family wasn’t even in line for the throne. Erendor promised they would figure it out but, meanwhile, there was a war brewing between the Ancestral Witches and Domino and his alliance with Oritel was enough of an excuse to buy them some time to think.

As it turned out, the solution presented itself. The royal dog breeder almost lost control of the hounds as she prepared them for a hunting session. After Erendor only didn’t bite her head off in the literal sense, Samara had her turn as well which saw the woman breaking down and confessing that she’d found herself pregnant and abandoned by both the father and her family. Samara instantly pieced together the plan that could be the solution to all their problems and after Erendor agreed, they offered the woman to give her baby to them. They would make him a prince and she could see him grow with every one of his needs taken care of if she would keep her mouth shut about the deception they were pulling. They reached an agreement and brought their scheme to fruition by presenting the boy as the royal heir while the official version was that the dog breeder’s baby was stillborn.

Distrustful of the emotional goodbye the woman said to her child, Samara decided to tie up their loose ends. Erendor had already dealt with the doctor supervising the birth through semi-legal means and it was just the mother that could reveal their ruse. Samara poisoned the dogs with a mix just strong enough to drive them mad with pain but not kill them so that they would attack their breeder and tear her to shreds. It happened almost as she’d planned it but before the dogs could be put down by the guards, they slipped away, having been pulled out of the effect of the poison by the grief over killing their caretaker. The woman had an unusual gift for training the animals and immense skills to top it off that Erendor could have never rivaled even despite his time in Red Fountain spent taming dragons. She was known as a dog whisperer and the animals had all formed a bond with her that was unbreakable so when they killed her, they turned into mindless beasts with the rage and pain of betraying their own mistress like that.

The hounds got lost in the forest to spread all over the kingdom and terrorize it for years to come. With everything else that was happening, Erendor’s focus was not on getting rid of them. The alliance with Domino was broken to the result of losing an entire city and being plagued by guilt. Without their strongest ally, the kingdom was soon swallowed in wars and debates over the future of the monarchy. The hounds were yet another crisis that was pulling Eraklyon thin over all the fronts it was stretched on.

The problem only got solved once Sky signed up for Red Fountain. Along with Brandon and a handful of other soldiers, he tracked down the hounds and killed them to stop them from wrecking havoc. Curiously, they didn’t run from him or try to attack him which he found odd but shrugged off as his gift for taming dragons obviously working on other animals as well (they never had hounds in the palace again after the “accident” with the last dog breeder). The last hound was the only one that put up a fight but it turned out it was because she had a puppy she was trying to protect. Unusually for dogs, it was only one. A small white female dog. It was so little Sky could snap its neck with two fingers but he took pity on it and took it in, swearing to his parents that he could tame it and make sure it would never hurt anyone. He named her Lady to further his point as she was extremely well behaved and obeyed every one of his commands, even letting Samara pet her despite her obvious dislike of the queen.

Lady was put down after going rabid out of the blue and attacking the queen. Samara didn’t like having to worry whether the dog wouldn’t tear her to shreds if Sky weren’t there to stop it so she got rid of it as well. Over the years she’d tried to provide for Sky both the warmth and discipline he would need to turn into a good prince as she didn’t want him growing up the way she had and being a pawn in the schemes of others. There was a certain duty to be upheld as an heir to the throne (of a country falling apart no less), though, which was why she and Erendor were pushing the marriage with Diaspro on him. The girl was more than respectful towards them despite being a spoiled brat otherwise and she was a princess aka their best choice for his fiance. They could use an alliance amidst the brewing situation in the kingdom.

With the years and the state of Eraklyon going downhill after the alliance with Domino fell apart, keeping the kingdom afloat was weighing down on Erendor on top of the guilt her felt for his deal with the Ancestral Witches and he became more selfish and rudely outspoken. He didn’t care much about diplomacy when he was counting on Samara to take care of it. She herself started falling into the rabbit hole of being queen and having the power to make everyone bow to her, however, and she abandoned her persuasive way with words for more forceful approach. After the whole fiasco with the dog breeder, she had to make sure nothing else would go astray to topple their unstable thrones and she had less and less patience for coaxing people to go her way rather than coercing and even forcing them to. The image of the monarchy was falling apart once more which was why Erendor was so hasty about passing the title of king down to Sky. Their son was very well liked amongst both the high society and the commoners so they had to leave the power in his hands at least in appearance.

#winx club #winx erendor #winx samara #erendor x samara #winx sky #winx headcanons #headcanons #can you tell why she named sky sky?

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blazerina · 4 years

Text

Connected - Harper/Ethan/Allie (MC) - Open Heart

Connected – Harper/Ethan/Allie (MC) – Open Heart

Word Count: 2612

A/N: This story is based on this amazing song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be – sent to me and requested by @unusualvisionsblog – thank you so much for the inspiration to finish this story. It took me a while but I’m really proud of how it all ended up.

Tagging my two fandom BFF’s @justanotherrookie and @parkerattano because they never fail to encourage and motivate me. Thankful for you ladies!

Lyrics to the song are below – I encourage you to listen while reading. It really sets the tone!

A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant to Be

I never should have called

‘Cause I knew you’d leave me

But I didn’t think

You could do it

So easily

I never should have held your hand

On that cold rainy night

‘Cause further along

It would cause another fight

Stranger

That’s all I see

When I look into your eyes

A soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

Stranger

Who knows all my secrets

Can pull me apart and break my heart

A soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

I never should have kissed

Kissed your hand

I’m under your control

I will never understand

I never should have said

I love you

Never said it back

So why do I still care for you?

Stranger

That’s all I see

When I look into your eyes

A soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

Stranger

Who knows all my secrets

Can pull me apart and break my heart

A soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

Wish I could go back to the day we met and leave you be

Sit and look pretty

Never should have called

Never should have held

Never should have kissed

Never should have said…

Stranger

That’s all I see

When I look into your eyes

A soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

Stranger

Who knows all my secrets

Can pull me apart and break my heart

A soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

Harper rolled over and pulled her phone off the nightstand to check the time. She had been awake for a while but could tell by the faint light coming in through her window, that it was getting close to the time she needed to get up.

She sighed heavily as she realized her phone confirmed her assumption. Harper blinked a few times to ensure she was fully awake, already annoyed with the day. She rolled over onto her other side and gently nudged her sleeping companion.

“Sam…Sam, wake up. It’s time for you to go. I have to get ready for work.”

The man next to her was clearly in no hurry to get out of bed. He faced Harper with his eyes still closed, reaching out for her.

“Baby, we don’t need to be in a rush…” Clearly, he thought he was smooth. And clearly, he didn’t know who he was dealing with.

“I will not ask you again to get out of my bed.” Harper declared. “I told you last night this was a one-time thing.”

She slithered out of the bed, keeping one sheet wrapped around her naked body. Making her way to her bathroom, she called out to him, “I expect you to be gone by the time my shower is done. You can see yourself out. Don’t leave anything behind because I’m not calling you back.”

The bathroom door forcefully closed behind her and Harper turned on the water. Pushing herself over the sink, looking more closely at her reflection, she studied herself, looking into her own eyes.

She never meant to become the kind of person who had a string of one-night stands. It wasn’t a part of her life she was especially proud of, but it served its purpose. She was too old to be asking herself who she was, or to be trying to find her identity. Those years were safely behind her. She owed it to herself to make up her own mind. She earned the freedom to stand by her own decisions without regret. The past was the past.

Part of her was relieved that she no longer had to share this portion of her life with the hospital. For far too long everyone from fellow doctors and administrators to volunteers and janitors, knew all about her every move. She was used to living in a fishbowl, but she was definitely over it. It wasn’t enough that she was proving herself to be a well-known and reputable medical professional, or that she was running one of the state’s largest and most prominent hospitals. Everyone needed to know about her personal life. She lost count of how many times people told her they couldn’t trust her if they didn’t know what she was “really like outside of this place.”

Ask anyone at Edenbrook about Harper Emery and you get a wide range of responses. Most people know her as a fine administrator and capable surgeon. Others are notoriously opposed to the way she performed as Chief and are thankful she’s been replaced by Naveen. Across the country she’s known for her expertise in surgery and her swift, decisive actions that have saved countless lives. A majority of medical staff see her as fair but firm, with high expectations and standards, not only for herself but everyone she works with.

Of all the things people have said about her, and the gossip she’s heard behind her back for years, there’s always one statement that sticks in her mind the most and haunts her every day. She can see it in their eyes when they find out; especially the interns when they’re finally told.

She walks down the halls and all goes silent except for the clacking of her heels on the cold stone floor. A small smirk appears on her face as people try to busy themselves with work before she asks them what they’re doing.

Despite all her achievements and the work she is proud of accomplishing, she’s come to terms with the fact that she’ll be remembered for one thing as she brushes past a group and someone inevitably whispers:

There goes Dr. Harper Emery. Former Chief of Medicine and former girlfriend of Dr. Ethan Ramsey. That’s all you really need to know.

Allie sat in the cafeteria staring dejectedly into her bowl of soup, absentmindedly stirring it every few seconds. Her head was propped up on her hand with her elbow on the table. Her long red hair was in a pile on top of her head. Her eyes tired. Her feet aching. Her mind elsewhere.

Lately she had been thinking about Ethan. That was nothing new. She hated how their situation was at present. He clearly wanted to be with her, practically reached out to her on numerous occasions, but something was stopping him. She heard time and time again that it was because of his care for her. That he wanted her to be the best doctor possible and he couldn’t do that and provide for her professionally if they were more than just colleagues. She rolled her eyes with disdain remembering how and when he said that word.

Professional.

It made her retch for a moment. She had already been working for about eight-hours of her twelve-hour shift and she wondered how she’d make it the next four. Allie turned her attention out the widow that overlooked a peaceful courtyard where patients or staff could go for a moment of quiet during the day.

She knew that her outlook on her relationship with Ethan had changed drastically over the past few weeks. At first, she thought she’d be able to handle it. Ethan’s decision made sense and she’d stop at nothing to make sure she could be the best doctor possible, but lately she’d been struggling. And right outside that window, sitting on a bench next to a patient in the courtyard, was the very reason why.

Dr. Harper Emery.

Allie didn’t know much about her past relationship with Ethan, only that she had one. And clearly it wasn’t an issue for him to be with her, so why was it such a big deal if she and Ethan wanted to be together instead?

In her head, Allie knew the difference. A subordinate and a supervisor is much different than two colleagues on the same level of the org chart, but her heart…her fickle-overly-emotional-prideful-too-hurt-to-admit-it heart, chanted to her over and over again:

You’re not good enough. You’ll never be her. There’s a real reason he didn’t want you. Do you honestly think you could measure up to that? She’s perfect. What would he ever see in someone like you?

It made it worse that Harper was the consummate professional around Allie. She was polite and welcoming, not warm, but still somehow hospitable. There had been a few times that she pushed back on Allie and challenged her, but nothing over the line.

Of course, it’s easy for her to do that.

The voice in her head reminded her.

She knows she’s got you beat in every category. You’ll never be competition to her.

Allie had even been watching Harper more intently when she worked with Ethan. There were so many little things that she had not noticed before. A few days ago, as Allie arrived for her shift, she noticed Harper helping him with his tie outside the cafeteria. A soft smile formed at the corners of her mouth as she straitened it for him and looked him in the eye.

“What would I do without you?” Ethan asked, his tone a bit too playful for Allie’s taste.

“Oh, you’d find a way to manage.” Harper responded. “After all, you’re Doctor Ethan Ramsey. You don’t let anyone around here forget it.”

Her composure as polite and calm as ever, Harper turned quickly on her heel and walked away. Allie swore Ethan’s eyes followed her all the way down the hall.

Allie knew that pining away for Ethan and obsessing over his every interaction with Dr. Emery would not serve her well. She needed to focus. But it was becoming more and more difficult. She was starting to lose confidence in herself and her abilities, which made her need and desire for Ethan all the more great.

He was the one who told her she could do anything. He was the mentor that taught her everything she knew about being a doctor. He was the one she needed. The one she was meant to be with forever.

All she had to do was convince him she was worth it.

Inevitably, the seed of doubt sprouted again in that arrogant-unstable-frustratingly-emotional heart of hers.

Who am I kidding? If Ethan couldn’t even make it work with someone as amazingly flawless as Harper Emery, how the hell do I stand a chance?

There they were. The two most prominent women in his life, chatting together in the hallway, right in front of his office.

Ethan told himself this couldn’t be good. Each woman on their own was difficult enough but seeing the two of them together made his pulse quicken. He felt his throat start to itch and he loosened his tie a bit, feeling a slight sting of anxiety in his stomach as he approached them.

“Dr. Emery.” He nodded. “Dr. Valentine.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Please, come in.”

“I told you.” Harper crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised one eyebrow in triumph, nodding towards Allie.

“Told her what?” Ethan asked, confused.

“We aren’t here to see you.” Allie explained. “We are discussing tomorrow’s surgery for Ms. Hogan. And as we were talk-“

Harper cut Allie off mid-sentence.

“I told Dr. Valentine that we should probably move this conversation elsewhere or finish before you returned, otherwise you’d think our presence at your door had something to do with you.”

“Sorry to inform you that it doesn’t…” Allie looked amused.

“I see.” Ethan responded shortly, his brow wrinkled, slightly irritated.

“You walked right into it, Ramsey.” Harper teased.

“Well played. I bid you all a good afternoon then. Seeing as how I’m not needed, even though you two purposefully stopped right outside my office. Let’s carry on with our work now instead of playing games, shall we?”

Ethan walked into his office and closed the door behind him, letting out a long sigh. The sight of those two, hearing their voices, the knowing way they mocked him, it was almost too much for him to handle. Harper was always quick to prove him wrong and reveled in any opportunity to do so.

He cursed himself for pursuing anything of substance with either one of them. He hated having regrets, but to see how things has ended up for all of them, he couldn’t help it. Nothing felt natural anymore – at least not for him. Everything was thought through and carried out with the utmost precision. His actions felt robotic as he made doubly sure not to make either of those women think he still had feelings for them.

Ethan was most careful to watch himself around Allie, as his time with her was the more recent and the most potent. It was challenging, though. He was drawn to her by a indescribable force. It took everything within him to pull himself away from her. In meetings, at the front desk, in the elevator, talking with patients, she always said or did something that made him weak in the knees.

It was killing him not to be able to see her after work, to spend time with her outside the office, to hear about her life beyond the walls of the hospital but he knew it was the right thing for her. If he had any desire to protect her or keep her safe and not hurt her any more than he already had, this is the way it needed to be.

Getting mixed up with a guy like him was bad news, just look at what it did to Harper.

Harper had always been the model of decorum; prim and proper, respected by all – but Ethan wasn’t stupid. He knew that now a part of her sterling reputation had been tarnished because of him. He heard the low voices whispering behind her back as she passed by. He was all to familiar now with the light in the interns’ eyes, how they lit up with intrigue when they found out that he and Harper had been…

What had they been? It was never anything real, which he blamed himself for. They had each other when they needed each other and that was about it.

Nothing substantial. Nothing with roots. Nothing that would last.

Nothing like…

His pager went off, rousing him from his diatribe of thoughts. Silently he opened the door and went to follow the page, not even noticing that Harper and Allie were still there, chatting away.

It was the end of another unremarkable day at Edenbrook. Harper was headed with her bag in hand towards the elevator doors, but they were closing too quickly.

At the last second, she made the decision to head towards the stairs, when a familiar voice called out:

“Harper. Come on, plenty of room in here.”

That voice would stop her in her tracks anywhere.

“Thank you, Ethan.” She smiled tightly as she entered the elevator with him. He held the doors open until she was settled and then pressed the button to close them.

Such a typical Ethan-move. Harper thought to herself.

Trying to win me over with his charm and chivalry. Don’t do it Harper, don’t fall for it. Not again. He’s not worth it.

Ethan focused his eyes straight ahead trying not to engage.

Leave her alone. You have to let her go.

Allie was ready to leave. The remaining portion of her shift had not passed as quickly as she had hoped. Nervous, yawning, grumpy and ready to soak her throbbing feet, she impatiently waited for the elevator to reach her floor. She could not wait to once again be reunited with her beloved bed.

The monotone bell rang out signaling the elevator’s arrival. She stepped in and surveyed the group of people also in the elevator. Parker from imaging. The really nice man in charge of housekeeping – she could never remember his name… – and Ethan.

Of course there was Ethan.

And Harper.

Lovely.

The nameless housekeeping man was first to exit. This ride was now officially long and uncomfortable. She wondered if Ethan and Harper felt the same.

A few floors later, Parker from imaging said a courteous goodnight and left the elevator.

Only four more floors to go.

All that remained was the three of them, each one with their eyes silently fixed on the numbers above the elevator doors. They illuminated, one by one, giving them hope that this uneasy metal box would deliver them from this situation soon.

Four…

The reputable doctor marred by transgressions with a colleague unable to forgive herself for wanting true love.

Three…

The world-renown diagnostician, somehow able to have so much and yet so little at the same time, feeling remorse for hurting two perfectly fine young women beyond repair.

Two…

An innocent second-year resident, thrown into a world she wasn’t ready for, caught up in confusion about her own feelings and comparing herself to someone she secretly admired and hoped to become.

One…

All three tired of being lonely, disappointed in themselves, and wanting nothing more than true, life-long companionship.

All three connected not by choice but by fate yet going home, once again, all alone.

#blazerina babbles #ethan ramsey #harper emery #allie valentine #open heart

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rosiethorns88 · 4 years

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Queen of Nothing Thoughts / Reflection on the Series

Many people are asking me, so I’m pooling them here. I’m not a writer or a reviewer, just a reader. :)

SPOILERS AHEAD:

First, an expectation summary:

- Overall, the book hit all of my high notes and succeeded in its story telling to me, personally. Holly has a pattern with climax building reflected in all three of her books that I really enjoy as a reader. There are shocking moments about two-thirds of the way in each book that feel like climaxes, but after the sudden burst and fall out, it slowly builds up again to another and greater peak. I find the early upsets and expanded conclusions of the final acts to be really satisfying to unfold, page by page. Cardan and Jude are two fascinating characters and the friction their personalities cause with one another make for some satisfying sparks. The whole cast of characters are colorful and the world building is rich, and I enjoyed the escapism the entire series brought to me with each visit.

- I was completely satisfied with the pacing, because it worked for the story at hand. Madoc was making his move and allies from all over Faerie were seeing Cardan’s control over his court wane in his wake. Both Jude and Cardan had to move and move fast to get themselves in a position of defense. In fact, the one act that I feared may have dragged on the longest, Jude’s ‘entrapment’ at the camp, actually moved forward quite quickly and kept my interest once Grimsen and the Ghost entered the mix. To spend time tying up every frayed thread with other non-player characters before the end would have lessened the urgency of story’s impending conflicts. Let’s get Jude and Cardan settled and to their honeymoon first before we chat about Nicasia’s love woes over tea.

- The Jurdan reunion was great, I love how it reflects the previous books with them having to first play act with each other again. Though I was hoping for it to last a bit longer with Cardan stringing Jude along in her disguise. I was really excited for Jude to play switch-a-roo as Taryn, but didn’t expect it to end so suddenly. It would have been a great call back to the circumstance of Cardan’s being tricked at the end of The Wicked King.

- The fact the Cardan was so involved with Jude’s runarounds: the rescue attempt from the palace, the actual rescue from the camp, his tag-alongs with her questing. It made all of their interactions very satisfying as it was expanding beyond the verbal throw-downs they only had before. I’ve seen many people complain there were not enough Jurdan scenes, but y’all. We barely had a breath of their interactions from the 1st and 2nd books compared to QoN. I was thoroughly pleased.

- The fact that Cardan indulges in Jude’s political nature and wears it proudly like a brooch when he’s addressing his court. He’s basically like, “I’m here to be my witty and sarcastic self; she’s here to be her just and vicious self. We complete each other.”

- CARDAN REUNITES WITH HIS DOOR! This was my favorite reunion scene as it was one of the many world building elements I enjoyed from the first book. Cardan’s playful and endearing greeting to his door at Hallow Hall was such a thought provoking element - I could only imagine as he grew up at the hall, he had little things or persons to befriend. And with the revelation of Cardan sneaking out human servants in the night, it makes sense he could get away with it with this unique friendship. I’m so glad this was a payoff.

- Madoc - I love Madoc. SO MUCH. He’s such a rich character, it’s so hard to call him morally grey when his character is so colorfully rich. Every chapter I either put an extra tick on his ‘I hate you so much’ or ‘I love you so much’ tally. He’s so true to his nature as a red cap, yet still so loving and caring for his family. He truly shows his hurt and conflict in his anger towards Jude after he finds she has betrayed or outwitted him. I reflect back to The Cruel Prince, when Jude was reminiscing how she and Madoc would play a board game of strategy (like chess) and have to interrupt it. All day, Jude would think about her possible moves and his possible moves, so when they returned to the game, the entire strategy had changed. This is how they interacted all through out the novel. Every thought and move was predicted, then challenged, then overturned before they could even meet face to face again. It’s amazing how there are no villains or heroes in this story; Jude and Madoc’s conflict were just an ever spinning tornado of their own morals and loyalties and ideals.

- Ghost & Taryn redeemed! I must admit, I was completely shaken by the Ghost’s betrayal in TWK, and did not expect him to be a redeemable character, though I did expect him to be involved somehow. I’m a little less satisfied with how quickly Taryn changed her spots back, especially with the build up from The Lost Sisters novella, and wish that Locke wasn’t killed off-screen. I can believe what she said happened, and that she was unhappy with the situation, but for it all to be delivered in one sitting as a monologue, it didn’t sink in for me for a while. I didn’t expect to have a redeeming arc for either of them, nor expect hints at their possible relationship, but it all fell into place nicely. At the end, I felt that the Ghost deserved to have his freedom, and that Taryn was appropriate to hold him to it.

- The Bomb and The Roach! I was happy for them to find their happily ever after, but Noooooo I didn’t want the Roach to be fridged! The Roach x The Bomb x Jude x Cardan interactions produce the best lines in the entire series and I was super sad to see the Roach exit so early. But from the little we received, it was a delight.

- Nicasia, Valerian (his curse), Locke - to me these three didn’t have the conclusions I was hoping for, but there may be open lore left to explore for Holly. I do understand why others insist that the last book be split into two and expanded upon, but the book was sharply focused on Jude and Cardan’s predicaments. Nicasia, Valerian and Locke all had unfinished stories and conflicts with both of them, but they were past issues that weren’t actively affecting the plot, and so I wasn’t troubled by their absence. But I’m hoping short stories or expanded lore in other Holly-verse novels may touch upon them.

- Vivi / Heather - This side plot got a little more attention than I expected, even though I didn’t appreciate the decisions both Vivi and Heather made (just as Jude didn’t). I was actually expecting Heather to take the route that she did, but just a little bit further than where she ended up. I love that she went completely Hermione on the group, but really wasn’t helpful in the end (which is ok). However, I think the true recourse for Heather’s involvement was intended solely for Vivi. By Heather experiencing Faerie a second time with the expectations of the terrors it offered, she was able to see other facets of the world Vivi has ties too, which is why she gave Vivi the second chance to reintroduce it to her in a better light.

- Oak / Oriana - I find Oriana such a delight as a character, but I don’t know why I always forget she exists until she appears on page. Which is appropriate, as she makes herself seen and be heard when she wants to. I love how helicopter parent she is with Jude even though she’s made it clear that she barely tolerates their familial ties. Still, her ability to parry Jude’s rebellious and un-lady-like behavior with her witty retorts gave us some of my favorite scenes from the previous books, and I enjoyed their brief reunion under the same circumstances at the camp. Oak, on the other hand I felt was underused as a character, and instead, justifiably used as a political object. Oak and Oriana’s relationship made for an interesting divisiveness between Team Madoc and Team Jude, that I think was an important factor, but ultimately Oak didn’t have much to do in decision makings in the QoN like he did in TCP. However, I feel this is because his character arc begins at the end of this novel with the new character ex-Queen Suren. And whether or not that story makes it onto a page, I can accept that his story was left open-ended to begin here.

Regarding Jude:

I think it’s important to highlight Jude’s development with her feelings toward Cardan - specifically with her reaction toward her exile. I wouldn’t say she’s an unreliable narrator, more so, she’s an unreliable romantic. Jude is the ‘DON’T Notice Me Senpai’ main character who throws red flags up for every action Cardan does.

A very popular theory about Cardan’s exile was that Jude would be able to pardon herself since she is part of the crown as queen. When that turned out to be true, I saw a lot of disappointment from readers with the obviousness of it - but that’s because it was obvious to ourselves, and it always has been. Cardan’s wordplay is a defining trait for his character and there have been several scenes where we the reader are completely in the know when he’s doing it and are charmed by it right along with Jude. During the exiling, Jude is not in the know and is blinded at first by her stupor as a newly wed and then later with her doubt in Cardan’s feelings for her as she flat out admits to herself that the crown pardon could be a loop hole.

This is what makes the rose garden scene such a great turning point - because they both realized they fooled each other without knowing it and are both distressed by each other’s reaction. Their trust in each other was becoming more brittle as it grew, until they realized they both could no longer play their old schemes against each other without risking that trust breaking.

All throughout, Jude has been judging and second guessing everything he does while she scrambles across this political chess board. Deny his feelings, manipulating her own feelings, pushing and pulling and advancing further to the top before her desire for power and her desire for Cardan meet at the peak. And here, between the possibility of losing the power she gained or condemning the feelings she found, is when she finally has to make that choice for herself, when she had viable reasons to go either way. With the way she struggled for both, she earned that right to choose.

Favorite moments / quotes:

- Cardan flinching at Jude’s indirect confession while she was disguised as Taryn - and Jude wholly unaware of the implications.

- Cardan relishing in his cleverness about the exile, while Jude is like WTF and they’re completely clueless about each other’s reaction until in the later rose garden scene. - Cardan’s ‘Jude, DON’T!’ - seriously, listen to the audiobook, you can hear the fear in his voice as his murder wife runs off to battle. And because we the readers can hear that fear, while Jude doesn’t, makes it more heart breaking.

- Madoc alluding to Jude (as Taryn) about Cardan’s berserk mode when he tried to prevent Jude’s capture at the palace. And of course, Jude denying it (psh)

- Cardan doing the grunt work in Jude’s camp rescue, and getting socked in the stomach for it - hah! And of course, The Roach preening he warned him.

- Cardan subconsciously protecting Jude from the arrow trap

- Jude scaring off a faerie guard with mortal menstruation.

- “Do not touch her. She is my wife.”

- How LONG have I waited for Cardan to finally witness how much Jude mutilates her body from her fights, and then for him care for her himself in his bed was just an extra mountain of whipped cream with sprinkles on top. (remember, she hid from him her hand stabbing, her self-poisoning, her leg injury from Locke’s attack, the details of Valerian’s attempt to murder her TWICE, the details of her torturous time in the undersea, etc. Let him know your WOES, woman! Y’all need to cash in some empathy points!)

- Jude having no choice but to wear Cardan’s clothes

- SLAP

- “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream.” exchange. And the hair touch!

- MY DOOR!

- The Ghost spider scrambling up the wall towards Cardan, and Taryn whiplashing him. Poor baby!

- Cardan intrigued by Slushies and Gummy Worms

- Cardan privately reprimanding Randalin about Jude and him scurrying out of the room in a panic. WHAT WAS SAID? CARDAN WAS SMILING.

- Freakin Cardan confessing and cutting her off at the door.

- Jude taking the time to panic, to mourn and to plan after the transformation. I felt giving too much haste toward a ‘Disney-true-love-spell-breaking ending’ would have ruined the direness of Cardan’s sacrifice.

- That fingers-digging-into-her-back hug.

- Tight pants, t-shirt and a Lopsided paper crown.

#queen of nothing #spoilers #queen of nothing spoilers #qon spoilers #qon #the queen of nothing #holly black #the folk of the air #cardan #tfota #jurdan

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druid-for-hire · 5 years

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UNSWAYED PT. III

(pt i) (pt ii) (pt iii) (you are here) (pt iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

this one’s got some revisions/retcons/refinings and new content. there will be some minor rehashing. this edition is more on the drama eurydice goes through on the path to find orpheus, orpheus’ deterioration in the Beyond, little bit of persephone and even littler bit hermes, finding orpheus, and finally getting to leave

thank you @supercantaloupe, @sonyalone, @unholy-boi, @s-aint-elmo, @ferretteeth for helping author this & help out w ideas and all!! sasha, u esp.

ok.

sits down and rests my old creaking bones in a rocking chair by the hearth and lights a pipe

gather round kids. this one might be a little long

one note:

on the same night that orpheus falls, persephone, when she finally composes herself enough, marches up to hades. the fury is still present in the vitriol with which she speaks. “you can’t have done that,” she says. “you can’t have just thrown him away. he didn’t sign any papers. you can’t make him work.”

“there were no papers,” he agrees, “but prisoners do not get papers.”

ok jumping back to kind-of-present

it’s taking a while to find orpheus. (too much of a while)

in between work and searching for him, both of which already take up so much of her time, eurydice... makes her attempts to craft a new guitar. hades took orpheus’. he’s going to either want it back or want a new one, and right now, she doesn’t think she can manage the first. it’s going to be important to their escape, she thinks, because she isn’t planning on staying in hadestown forever

but she’s not skilled, and making a real, good, balanced guitar is incredibly hard. she’s not trained. it never comes out good enough, never remotely close to a properly tuned instrument, much less the guitar that seemed to fit perfectly around orpheus' hands. and she doesn’t have a lot of time

so as it turns out, stealing back the original is the more feasible option

problem being: it’s a trophy. hades didn’t smash it, but it’s locked away with his other little “victories,” and he’ll notice it missing eventually

(those other trophies are other relics from other daring humans he’s had to deal with in the past. no one has come as close as orpheus)

but she does have more buffer time than usual because it's also a reminder of the martyr and the fact that his marriage is in the shitter so it's been put out of sight (and out of mind), so she's got a few days or more before he'd notice it's gone

as she keeps searching for orpheus, telling her story and getting help and word of her spreading...

eurydice stirs the town as the ladle stirs in the pot; out of all the feelings her story wakes, the most dominant—and most important—is the anger.

and for the first time, somewhere in some could-be-anywhere part of Hadestown, someone says no.

the age-old, unmoving, immovable hadestown, begins to... change. there’s persephone’s crack in the wall, and then there are others, and then they join, and then there’s unrest, and then there’s the threat of riot.

(which i know i already established but shhh im reiterating my point for this:)

unholy-boi: hades was at least formerly hands on enough to give orders, to scrape down new souls, to preach about the wall

now he locks himself in his office, head in his hands, unable to handle the idea that he’s losing control, and every MOMENT he spends locked away he loses control more, but he needs to think, he needs to think, he needs to think--

The fates are at his door, they sing horrible music, things he doesn’t want to hear, lies and twisted truths to manipulate the king. except he’s not being manipulated at all. this is all him, he knows it--this is just him and his paranoia and the workers' rage beginning to boil on his doorstep.

the god is hidden away in his office and hardly lets anyone in. he isolates himself and Persephone barely even visits this winter anyway.

he wonders if the martyr boy really did fail.

(no, he tells himself--he did fail, because his goal was to get him and his lover out, and now both of them are damned here forever. all of this? an unfortunate side effect.)

hades... was very nearly swayed by orpheus, but took his “obligation” to a city (that he’s already lost) over the slightly breaking voice of orpheus, and the rumors. however when he sent orpheus away, things only got worse. but how could he just crawl to pull orpheus back now? would that not be sacrificing his iron will? his grip of steel? how can he turn to go back if he’s already made his decision? moreover- how can he trust bringing orpheus back will fix anything at all?

a lamenting reprise from hades with orpheus’ guitar would be cool. i don’t know if it’d be in character or appropriate to the story but. its been a fun thing ive been tossing between my hands

it probably starts when he accidentally kicks it over--there’s a trophy room, but he hasn’t cleared a space for the guitar yet. he kicks it over, and when it hits the ground the strings hum Menacingly at him

after the song he puts it away--out of sight, out of mind

show them a crack.

and they’ll tear down the wall.

besides the immediate danger orpheus is in and his voice failing being drives to find him as soon as possible, eurydice also has to worry about the fact that persephone won’t be there to help her soon. the hadestown debacle happens on the onset of proper spring

persephone, for once, is grateful that hades keeps her late. it means she can help the lovers. for so many weeks she sends that boy’s voice on a wind straight for Eurydice to keep her going

but later is not never, and to the surface one day she goes, and bitter with the absence of his wife Hades drives them all to work harder

which strains Eurydice for time and energy even more

things are harder when she’s gone, as always—eurydice has less time to track him down, and without persephone’s sing-sing wind, pinpointing him is more difficult.

Hermes is there at the station to greets her when she returns to end the winter

“how is he doing?” “not well.”

“you think they’ll make it?” “i don’t know.”

hermes asks her, “how long?” how long will orpheus last? how long will it take for them to find each other and leave? how long will it take until hades finally snaps? persephone can’t answer any of them

(hermes knows, of course. but he has a role to play)

the summer roars to life on top, but persephone can’t stop thinking about the lovers underground. she knows that orpheus won’t make it through the summer. she sneaks down below for two weeks in june and in that time, a hurricane devastates the surface without her to control it.

the sing-sing wind returns with a straining melody and eurydice wonders. she’s grateful, but she wonders

and... one day it doesn’t. she feels the breeze, but there’s nothing on it.

nothing.

i’ve fucking had enough, eurydice decides. i’m stealing that fucking guitar, hades be damned.

in the sleeping hours of hadestown she sneaks her way up to the palace, dodging searchlights and finding havens, already at an advantage because she’s scoured Hadestown so long and made allies in so many places

and when she makes it up to the palace, the... the guards, the hounds, all of them are... either missing or intoxicated to shit. which is odd, she thinks, but doesn’t question it

she makes it to the trophy room (after a Lot of searching, because she doesn’t have a map)

she walks in and marvels in awe at all the trophies

she wonders about the histories behind all of them

to be honest, she doesnt know that this is where the guitar is, but it’s a pretty good guess (and the right one)

and then there’s a sound at the doorway. eurydice freezes. there’s nowhere for her to hide

she turns, and... it’s persephone in the doorway. persephone, who should not be here.

they lock eyes for a moment, and then she points at a locked case in the back of the room and keeps on walking. whistling loudly. a very “nope, nothing here at all” move

... well, works for her

eurydice breaks off the padlock, gets the guitar, and flees

musing on kampê for unswayed because i really dont want her to just be a two dimensional villain:

- homegirl is bitter. she used to rule the underground. she was the queen of the dark, and every god and titan knew her name, and hades did fear her too.

until. well.

and now she’s practically half-forgotten—a footnote. she hates it. hades and persephone are both her younger and yet they came into her realm, and she was shunted aside to this dismal little hole, and she has to answer to him and she fucking hates it. no mortal up Top or even in hadestown remembers her name. if an old dragon like her has no place out there... if she can’t make herself known in the outside world anymore, then she’ll fucking sear herself into the minds of the people she has, in the only way she knows how

(it should also be noted that homegirl is. unstable. i think kampê sort of violently switches between abhorrently vicious to weirdly sweet and manipulative and anywhere in between depending on the day/time/situation)

(also, she wasn’t always deaf. but being even older than the world, than hades and persephone, things... happen)

also, part of how she keeps everyone here is 1) working them to death and 2) telling them that they’re needed here, and that hadestown is an oasis of stability outside the chaos up Top

orpheus is not doing well.

orpheus forgets.

orpheus wears down.

(orpheus gets sick.)

whoops! That’s An Issue. but still he works, because no one can rest long, and the coal dust and ash and smoke and stifling heat do him zero favors

his focus drifts; he loses track of eurydice, of his songs. the work is first and foremost

you ever get worked so hard and pushed past your physical limit that u get like, spots in your vision and want to throw up? yeah thts orpheus

orpheus doesn’t stop sneaking off every day to the spot at the edge of the Beyond. he doesn’t sing out for help anymore, but... he sits, because he knows that it’s important. this place, where he sang out for a lover he doesn’t remember anymore with songs he no longer has

(cue Flowers but for orpheus, in quiet & faltering breathy lines)

he’s “forgotten a little thing called spring”

kampê still comes after him to drag him back to work. sometimes it’s wordless; sometimes she yanks him to his feet by the straps of his overalls, sometimes all she needs to do is put a hand on his shoulder and he’ll get up and shuffle back into the mines and smokestacks

other times she asks why he’s still doing this, why he’s still out there. other times she tells him that there’s no need to come out here anymore. he shouldn’t have in the first place. out there--it’s no better than here.

the times when she yells--few and far between, because fetching him is hardly much of a chore anymore--he winces, since it’s not like she has the finest grasp on volume control, being deaf

the scene we see is her sing-speaking some fucked up reprise of hey little songbird, beckoning him to come back and taunting him; i didn’t write this one out but i imagine there’s some fun things to be had with the “vipers and vultures” line

and orpheus sing/saying, in this cracked, hoarse voice, “I wanna lie down forever”

he’s. so tired

(also singing his voice, long since shredded, sorta finally collapses in this one and i don’t imagine him having another sung line after that)

the canary in the coal mine isn’t dead yet but he will be

eurydice goes into overdrive after she steals orpheus’ guitar back

(she strums a few notes on it, and it hums warmly of sunlight in her hands. her chest fills with something indescribable. god, she missed this)

she takes more risks. sneaks out farther and strays out farther. skips out on work, keeps cutting close, nearly gets caught more often than she did before

eventually. finally. finally, she finds him, almost unrecognizable in the crowd masses, but she catches him alone

and she calls out to him, her arm outstretched, “come home with me.”

so i’m going w the “recognize her right away one” and following what i wrote in the first post

BUT: the callback to “come home with me i” with orpheus’ forgetting in “come home with me” “who are you?” is Too Fucking Good and I ended up writing my own lyrics to a “Come Home With Me III”

i’ll post it somewhere. i’d link the google drive link here directly but then tumblr would nerf this post off of the hadestown tag.

you can play off of that if you want, toy around with it as a sort of small canon divergence to this au, but for the main one i’m rolling with what i already did in the first post... it’s unfinished btw there’s this small section i’m stuck on but i didn’t wanna delay this post anymore for something so minor

eurydice sees how much the beyond has ground him into the dirt—his eyes are sagging and half-lidded, dulled and shadowed and barely focused on her, miserable but too exhausted to feel

she sees this plenty in the ver. w/ Come Home With Me III before he remembers her, and for a moment in the other version before his eyes light up with recognition and suddenly it’s like some of the soot has sloughed off of him with the way his whole face lights up

also she shoves his guitar at him and he’s !!

it’s. horribly out of tune though. he’s tuning it while they talk a little

but either way: the steam whistle blows, the signal to get back to work, and orpheus is immediately lowkey fearful and trying to get back before kampê catches them

eurydie is completely “oh hell to the fuck no i JUST got you back after MONTHS of searching you are NOT leaving”

orpheus is just afraid of what kampê’ll do if she sees them together, he doesn’t plan on leaving her -- he doesn’t hand her back the guitar, after all

again, kampê isn’t the most stable

then uhhh Whoops they spend too long there and she catches them, a la Papers

cue panic

cue tousling w/ eurydice and somehow getting kampê still enough (probably w pinning) to try and listen to Orpheus and she's just waiting to kick his ass because no music is ever gonna sway her, boy

(the dogs get placated by a few chords plucked out)

he can't sing, but he plays

and the other workers listen, and are moved

they are moved by eurydice's act of coming here after him

by listening to orpheus sing of love

by listening to orpheus forget, and deteriorate

by having spent months listen to their love last and finally succeed with eurydice's arrival, this stalwart notion of hope

they didn’t ignore it. everybody knows the walls have ears

and they join by accompanying orpheus' song with the heavy metal sounds of the factories

they stomp, they clang, they turn grinding gears that crash and pound, in synchrony

(where the little wheel squeals and the big wheel groans)

it’s a percussive song that they make

more than a simple tune, a steady beat, more than just the music of machinery

it shakes the entire Beyond with the force of the determination of a thousand weary souls, of the hopeless regaining hope for the first time in centuries

Forced through the percussive force of the entire Beyond, implicit in its rhythm and shake, is the old song. all of this old and rusted metal, all of this harsh machinery, all of it singularly resonant in the notion of la, la la la, la la la

kampê feels it all through her feet and it rumbles in her chest, it shakes her to her very core and rattles her down to her bones, twists in her gut and forces in her fear and awe, and awe and wonder, and... something else

eurydice feels her loosen under her grip and backs off from pinning her and she still doesn’t move

at some point she lurches forward with her fist raised--orpheus doesn’t stop playing but he does shut his eyes, thinking oh god this is it, and eurydice rushes forward to pull her back

but she just... punches her fist into the ground by his feet

she feels everything not only through her feet but up her arm, more directly to her chest, to her heart, to her head

at last, swayed, feeling far more of something other than fear or anxiety or anger than she ever has in a long time...

she lets them all go

ok ngl there’s some blank spots here. i’m blanking here. idk how to transition

but

it's an entire exodus out from this tiny secluded part of Hadestown

The Great Beyond empties itself out and Kampê is left behind

the move is headed by Orpheus & Eurydice and the mood is very similar to the exodus from Egypt by the jewish folk in the movie Prince of Egypt

including the dark lighting, teal against the warm orange-yellow of their torches (lamps in this case), the wind, the craggy rock, everyone together, overall just the general tone

so during this walk from the Beyond to central hadestown with orpheus & eurydice more or less alone at the front is when Promises happens

it’s. a hell of a lot sadder here, but also a lot softer and more tender

orpheus’ lines are spoken like with Come Home With Me I / II coz he ain’t singin’ anymore. he can’t

and that’s the thing, he can’t sing anymore.

all those things he said in wedding song, all his promises--that his voice would convince the world to give them everything they need

orpheus... doesn't have that anymore, or at least not nearly as strong, or traditionally lovely as it used to be

his voice was cut into pieces from the nasty shit air in the places he was sent to work

all he has is his guitar, and while he’s good at it, his real strength is in his poetry--it’s his voice and his words that makes the rivers and the trees and birds sing along

the people of the Beyond may have been inspired to percussion by his guitar, but they were more swayed by the notion of their love that was built up over the past few months ever since he got banished

so like. to walk with eurydice and be by her side for as long as he lives, is really all he can really promise her at that point anyway

it's not even that he doesn't have anything and broke the promise that he’d sing them all they needed. he can’t even do that anymore

the voice that charmed her, that said he’d provide for her, is gone

would she love him now, he wonders, if the great poet can no longer sing

and many thanks to @sonyalone for contributing this:

he offers his devotion to her. the only thing he has that’s worth anything, the only thing he can do. and when he does hes so afraid that he'll see in her eyes the understanding disappointment, the pity and "i suppose so" that he fears, but he finally raises his head and he cries because her eyes are shining with joy and love and hope. thats all she ever wanted from him. she just wants to be with him, voice or no, amenities or no, and hes never felt so loved

he weeps, and she weeps--from grief and relief and love--and they hold each other close

sheltering under each other

and they have never been more secure in their love

he walked the whole length of the railroad into hell for her, he survived in the pit for her, she scoured the underworld for him, she came for him and she's keeping him

and the return of all these workers startles everyone in central hadestown and a lot of the work gets stalled out

which, of course, draws hades’ attention.

tune in next time for more on this shit ✌️

(pt i) (pt ii) (pt iii) (you are here) (pt iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

#hadestown #hadestown au #hadestown fanart #unswayed au #hadestown musical #my art #my work #look i KNOW the guitar is too small but also I don't care #edit 6/26/19: forgot to include some stuff re: the face-off with Kampe and Promises

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

Synthesis

syn·the·sis (n.) A higher truth gained from two contradicting ideas.

Every man has a breaking point - even Luffy. Good thing Usopp knows a thing or two about overcoming boundaries.

(Or: Sabo is in danger and Luffy is stressed)

Tags: Post-Wano, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nakamaship, Canon Compliant (up until Chapter 977), Recovery, Usopp is MVP as always, Mentions of Ace

Spoiler warning up to Chapter 977. Anything beyond that is pure speculation.

***

There’s a poetic sort of justice to the fact that everyone knows and Luffy doesn’t, this time.

It’s fucked up, sure, a twist of fate so morbid only Robin would find joy in it, and even she looks vaguely sick. You see, repetition is a fantastic rhetorical device: There’s nothing more satisfying than a story coming full circle, when the intricate mosaic of setup and payoff results in much-needed catharsis. Simple and effective, any storyteller will tell you – and Usopp is damn good at telling stories. It’s the one thing he can be proud of, when everything else fails.

Usopp doesn’t feel particularly good about that – or anything really – right at this moment. Perhaps in future he will, by all the seas, he hopes he will because that means this too will pass, and they will emerge from it victorious, just another miracle by the miracle-working crew from the East Blue.

But right now, surrounded by the shaken faces of his crew mates, all he feels like doing is crawling back to bed and passing out until it’s all over. To run for the hills and never return.

Usopp can’t and Usopp won’t, however. Because it’s Luffy, and because he made that mistake once before and swore: never again, never, never–

The newspaper lies innocently between them, a few days old by the time it made it past Wano’s crumbling borders via a confused News Coo, a clearly-alarmed Bepo (he hadn’t even apologized for almost running over Brook in his haste to get to his captain, and looking back that should’ve been the first red flag) and Law bursting into the room the Strawhats have claimed for their recovery, covered head-to-toe in gauze and all warmth drained from his expression.

Usopp did not miss witnessing their ally that close to despair. It makes the bright smile Law shared with Luffy in their moment of victory seem like a distant dream, perhaps part of one of Usopp’s more ludicrous tales.

“They got him. They got Sabo.”

It’s like he dropped a live grenade in their hands, if grenades were made of words torn kicking and screaming from a nightmare they all share. Usopp wants to ask – They, who is they?! – and there’s always a ‘they’, the Marine or the World Government or CP0 or some other shadowy organization pulling the strings of corruption and misery. But it hardly matters because this… this is real, a realization that passes from Strawhat to Strawhat along with the black-and-white print staring at them from pages increasingly crumpled by nine sets of shaking hands:

Revolutionaries Defeated at Mariejois: No. 2 of the Revolutionary Army Successfully Captured!

And in their midst slumbers their captain, huddled in the softest blankets they could find and snoring away his injuries, and he doesn’t know.

The irony – horrible, grotesque, unfair, unfair – isn’t lost on Usopp. Two years ago, he would’ve killed to have this, to be there, to catch Luffy as he bled and screamed and burned at the pyres of his brother’s death. To save Luffy just as he saved every single soul in this room, Law included.

Please, is all Usopp can think of, begging to every deity he’s heard of and those he hasn’t, to anyone who will listen, let him rest. Luffy doesn’t deserve this, not again. Please, have mercy–

Zoro is the first to move and something in Usopp moves with him, a fledgeling sense of optimism fluttering pathetically in his chest. Because it’s Zoro and Zoro always leads them right when their captain is off saving the world or a country (or two). Yet all Zoro does is sit at Luffy’s bedside like a mountain shaken into rubble, a measured kind of collapse that hits Usopp square in the gut. He doesn’t know what the others are doing, doesn’t dare look away from their first mate, but someone is crying and someone else is murmuring comforting words, and that at least sounds like Sanji so the first must be Nami.

There’s only a handful of times Roronoa Zoro has yielded without mounting a counterattack right afterwards and none of them are memories Usopp wants to revisit. Not now, not ever.

“Who else knows?”, Zoro asks, the steel in his voice worn down to a dull edge at best, and Zoro’s hand settles on Luffy’s head so gently it brings tears to Usopp’s eyes, too. Luffy mumbles in his sleep and smiles, nuzzling further into the covers with the clumsy comfort of a napping dog.

Law, too, is staring blankly at that gesture before blinking, focusing anew. He’s so tense a muscle visibly twitches in his jaw with the heavy swallow working its way down his throat.

“Bepo, me. Now you. Kidd is suspicious but he won’t leave Killer’s side, not yet anyways.”

The mere mention of Killer serves as an additional sucker punch on top of the veritable tsunami crashing over them, on the mend as he may be. That could have easily been Zoro, or Bepo, and the haunted glint in Law’s eyes says he’s thinking of it, too.

Zoro nods, absently. “And how long till we can set sail?”

For the briefest of moments, Law looks like he’s going to protest. The Trafalgar Law they met a few months ago would have, grim and annoyed, and the one from just last week would too, exasperated and loud–

Since then, they have beaten one of the Four Emperors and sent another one packing with her tail between her legs, and that feeling of having your dreams within reach if you only try hard enough, if you truly believe in it and your friends and yourself, it forges a bond like little else does. Hope is a dangerous thing – it can heal as much as it can wound, and Luffy has taught them all, one by one, how to endure both sides of that coin.

This pirate alliance of theirs has long stopped meaning what Law had wanted it to, and instead turned into what Luffy promised all along: Something permanent, something unbreakable, that all-or-nothing sensation of trust that is as much a freefall as it is flying.

So Law just… sighs. He rubs at eyes deeply smudged with missed hours of sleep and close calls all around, and Usopp can see his shoulders bend under the weight of being a captain.

“I… I don’t know. But I’ll find out. I don’t need to remind you all that this– It’s not like Kaido. Our chances against Kaido were slim to none but they were there. That report, it’s already outdated. The world has been shifting with us being none the wiser, and it could be that Luffy’s brother is already…”

It’s like Law can’t bring himself to say it, as if even speaking the possibility into existence will make them lose something they can’t get back. His gaze flickers to Jinbei, briefly, then to Luffy, and sympathy deepens the lines on his face.

“I’ll find out”, Law repeats, firmly. “Just… be there when Luffy wakes up. Then we’ll decide.”

And though many things may have changed, two years and countless battles later, this remains the same, always, always. Being at Luffy’s side is a privilege and a duty no Strawhat will ever turn their back on.

Blinking the blurriness from his vision, Usopp looks at the bandages wrapped around Luffy’s chest with loving care and the deep purple of bruises peeking out underneath, and he clenches his trembling hands to fists and hopes. As long as there is a sliver of sky above them and the wisp of a current below, they will follow their captain to the end of the world and beyond.

Come whatever may. Because this time, they are here and they're not letting go.

Luffy starts craving food the next morning.

It startles Usopp, the hand that knocks against his head and snaps him out of his doze by his captain’s side. He stares at the questing fingers for a few uncomprehending seconds. Usually he’d laugh, spirits lifted by the prospect of Luffy waking up sooner rather than later so they can celebrate properly.

There is nothing usual about this. Usopp reaches behind himself to the solid weight slumped against his back, shifting fitfully.

Sanji comes to with a tense breath. “It’s just me”, Usopp mumbles and doesn’t ask if his friend is alright. None of them are. Instead he says, “He’s looking for you”, and watches Sanji’s eyes soften somewhere between relief and heartbreak behind the strands of his fringe, weirdly unkempt.

“Mh, thanks”, Sanji replies in a raspy whisper; he gets up and leaves, side-stepping the jumbled puzzle of limbs that are the Strawhat Pirates. Only once he’s out the door does he reach for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

Sighing, Usopp rubs his eyes until they ache in an effort to wake up. Fuck, it’s like he hasn’t slept for a year and it’s been barely twenty-four hours. Beside him, Luffy’s hand inches its way towards Nami – sleeping close enough to brush knees with Usopp, head pillowed on crossed arms – and Usopp reaches out, takes it gently.

Luffy’s palm is warm against his, slightly damp from the fever he ran the first few days of recovery. His knuckles are a busted, swollen mess even now, and Usopp is careful. It wriggles impatiently, this hand that knocked a literal dragon out of the sky, and then it settles in Usopp’s grasp and Luffy sighs in his sleep.

Usopp can’t help but smile a little. “Food is coming, captain”, he tells him quietly. “Be patient with us, okay?”

Back to waiting it is. Not for the first time, Usopp plops his chin on the edge of the bed and just… looks. With his straw hat set aside (and safely tucked against Jinbei’s chest where he finally found a semblance of sleep, napping against the wall on the other side of Luffy’s bed), Luffy is sporting a truly impressive case of bedhead, the rest of him lost in a helpless tangle of blankets he tried to kick off during the night. He actually looks his age, Usopp’s age, like this – just some nineteen-year-old punk among many and not the one-of-a-kind captain of a crew famous the world over. It’s a rare chance to soak up this side of Luffy, the expression on his face relaxed and peaceful and lacking the chaotic energy that’s so infectious even eternally-grumpy Law had to give up fighting it off.

A selfish part of Usopp wants Luffy to remain that way, safe in the afterglow of a war well-won and unburdened by the cruelty of reality. It’s the same part of him that remembers the loving smile Sabo directed at Luffy, sleeping soundly in someone else’s bed just like this, and asks, why? Why didn’t you stay put? Why are you risking everything when your little brother is right here–

It’s selfish because stopping someone from doing what they truly want is the exact opposite of what Luffy is all about. Because the thing Sabo yearns for is freedom, and as long as the Celestial Dragons rule over their paradise built on the backs of countless slaves, no one is well and truly free.

If there’s a fight worth dying for, it’s that one. And yet–

“He’s going to be okay, you know?”

Usopp jumps a little, his neck protesting painfully as he whips his head around. Nami snickers at the wince on Usopp’s face before she sighs, the brown of her eyes bright with emotion.

“This sucks but… Luffy is strong. He’ll know what to do. Traffy is with us, we have a fleet to back us up, we’ll call in every favor we’re owed, and then we’ll show those fuckers hell for taking what’s ours. Sabo will be fine. I’ll kill him myself if he isn’t.”

She huffs, then, having talked herself into that righteous kind of fury that’s uniquely Nami even if she keeps her voice down for Luffy’s sake. Usopp finds himself chuckling.

“Say, what’s our going rate for personal rescue missions against impossible odds again?”

“A lot.” The grin on Nami’s grin is knife-sharp. “The Revolutionaries will be in a world of debt just for making Luffy worry.”

“Good”, Usopp says, and grins back just as fiercely.

They let Luffy eat his fill, for one because his healing factor is largely based on burning through incredible amounts of calories in no time at all, and also because Sanji looks like he needs to see it.

As much as their cook has his gripes about the bottomless pit that is Luffy’s stomach: Only when his captain is back on solid foods and on track to regain the weight he lost while unconscious does Sanji allow himself to relax. For Usopp, this means making sure his own plate is damn near licked clean by the time Sanji lets out a quiet breath and shuffles to the open window to smoke. The rest of the Strawhats eat, too, a low hum of conversation taking some of the tension out of the room they’ve barely left since Kaido.

The only exception is Zoro, and Usopp can’t help the glances he gives the door every few minutes, as if he’d magically reappear just like that.

The negotiations have been going on for ages now. As far as Usopp gathered, the Heart Pirates are heading intel and logistics, while Momonosuke assured them whatever resources Wano Country can spare – after taking care of their people, Zoro had added with a huff when he’d checked in on Luffy around dawn.

That’s not the problem, then. Eustass Kidd is, and after all that happened around the Kidd Pirates and pirate alliances, Usopp isn’t exactly surprised the guy refuses to compromise when it comes to his crew. Killer is awake now, though, and judging by the explosive arguments raging on outside, Kidd is not happy with his partner’s input on the matter.

The all-too-familiar sound of three swords being drawn is loud in the ensuing hush, and every scrap of metal in the room vibrates from the near-oppressive wave of magnetism sweeping through it.

“Oh? Who’s fighting?”

“Zoro and Kidd”, answers Usopp automatically, sighing. “Again.”

“Ah, okay. Not seriously though, right? We promised them a party after all. Like, a big one.”

“Kinda? It’s hard to tell honestl–”

Usopp blinks and turns to see Luffy awake and tilting his head at him. His hands are yet to stop shoving food in his face and Usopp stares with his mouth agape.

“Y-you’re awake!”

“Yeah!”, Luffy says with enthusiasm, and not a second later does he lift his plate away from the ball of fur charging at him with the force of a bull. Calmly, Sanji grabs the food and sets it aside for later.

“Luffy!”

Chopper’s tearful wail is followed by a breathy oof from Luffy as the reindeer clings to his bandaged chest in a flurry of hooves. Luffy chuckles, “Hey Chopper”, sounding pleased as punch that the doctor is walking all over him. Then he meets the half-circle of relieved looks around him, his smile only getting wider and wider.

“Hey everyone! I slept in again, huh?”

“Hey yourself”, Sanji murmurs around a smoke-filled smile. He leans out the window and calls, “Mosshead! Crew meeting!”, and the clanging of swords on metal immediately stops.

The Strawhats coalesce from all corners of the room, crowding around their captain whilst leaving enough space for the impromptu check-up Chopper is conducting. This, at least, is familiar. Frazzled as they are, Usopp’s nerves are soothed by Luffy’s easy-going compliance with Chopper’s orders to make a fist, breathe deeply, cough, does this hurt? and if the doctor’s hooves are marginally less steady than usual, well, it’s only to be expected. There’s a line forming between Luffy’s eyebrows though, and Usopp knows none of them are ready to answer the questions forming behind that pensive look–

It’s in that moment that Jinbei steps up, eyes a little solemn even if the smile on his lips isn’t. “Glad to see you awake, captain”, he says, and offers Luffy his hand, palm-up. Cradled with infinite care between webbed fingers, Luffy’s beloved hat looks small and unassuming; met with immediate delight by its owner, it might as well be a crown made of gold and the finest jewels far and wide.

“My hat! Thank y– Jinbei!”

The name rings with joy the same way it did during battle, and while Jinbei regards Luffy with some measure of perplexity as he’s drawn into a rubbery hug along with the hat, Usopp exchanges fond looks with some of the crew. Dire news be damned, it’s still a little unreal to have their tenth crew member finally with them, like, permanently.

They couldn’t have found a better helmsman in any of the seas, that’s for sure.

“It’s so cool you’re back! We gotta celebrate! Oi Sanji–”

“Not so fast, Luffy. We gotta talk.”

Those gruff words cut through the smiles and laughter like they’re made of washi paper; finally Zoro is there, skin glistening with sweat and droplets of blood pooling around fresh scrapes, and the unhappy slope of his mouth is an important reminder that fate doesn’t care about reunions and banquets of epic proportions.

The change in Luffy is instantaneous, eyes snapping to Zoro’s. His attention shifts like the wind, a physical force in this limited space. Almost absently, he places his hat where it belongs, a captain once more.

“Zoro? What’s wrong?”

No one answers, the silence lasting a mere heartbeat and an eternity all at once. This is it, Usopp thinks, the moment balancing on the precipice before a future as murky and uncertain as the ocean’s deepest trenches. He closes his eyes.

“What happened? Tell me.”

It’s said with authority, a weight similar to Haki but kinder, reassuring rather than suffocating – and resolve takes shape in Usopp’s chest, an urge to keep his head high and watch it all unfold with courage in his heart.

It has a similar effect on Zoro and it’s only then, with his shoulders squared and gaze steady, that Usopp realizes how miserable he had looked without Luffy by his side. Guilt creeps on Usopp, acidic in his veins. (Later. He can feel shitty about all of this later.)

“It’s Sabo. Things… are not looking good.”

Zoro produces the paper – a different one, newer, and Usopp feels his heart clench – from the sleeve of his yukata and hands it over, pre-folded to the relevant page. All Usopp can see from his angle is Sabo’s smile, determination apparent even upside-down. It’s a re-print of his wanted poster.

Next to him, Robin draws in a trembling breath and Usopp reaches out for her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers to stop them from shaking.

“Sabo?”

It’s with clear surprise that Luffy utters his brother’s name, and Usopp watches helplessly as Luffy’s pupils flit left to right, reading, skipping over dense paragraphs and coming up to the picture at the top over and over–

Then he looks up, and Luffy’s eyes are wide with worry and confusion so earnest it hurts Usopp to the core. “I… What? But he was there, at Dressrosa. And he was fine…? I don’t understand. Is this a joke?”

Zoro’s eye narrows, something wounded there and gone like a shadow. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand”, Luffy repeats, insistent now, and he turns to Robin because that’s what Luffy does when something doesn’t make sense to him. “Robin?”

Robin’s hand squeezes Usopp’s, near-painful. All Usopp can do is squeeze back.

“The revolutionaries, they… There were plans to rebel against the World Nobles. The people in bubbles on Sabaody, remember?” Robin’s voice evens out and yet, her lashes are wet with unshed tears.

“It looks like they failed. We don’t know more than that – the Marine has kept the papers scrubbed clean, as always – but it seems your brother was in charge of the mission. They’re sending him to Impel Down, Luffy. That’s what it means.”

Impel Down.

Usopp can see the exact moment those two words sink in: all blood drains from sun-kissed skin, leaving Luffy’s face close to pallid in contrast to the mottled bruises underneath; Luffy’s mouth opens but no sound arises, no word of protest, no nothing, and Usopp would honestly prefer to see him scream to the heavens or burst into tears than this, this petrified sort of shock that doesn’t belong anywhere near Luffy. Then–

“We’re ready, captain.”

That’s Zoro again, and there’s a hard edge to his tone that Usopp recognizes as sorrow only because it mirrors his own.

“Law has a plan, we’re fully stocked, the fleet is one snail call away. Killer wants to help so Kidd will come too. It’ll take a week to get there, tops. Just say the word and we’ll–”

“No.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper and yet, they all hear it. And even if they didn’t, Luffy repeats it once, twice, gaining in volume.

“No, no. We’re staying here. Sabo–”

Luffy’s voice cracks, and Usopp’s heart breaks clean in two, and Luffy pushes on, panting like he’s running a hundred miles in a hurricane.

“Sabo has his friends, and my dad. He’ll be fine, okay? He’ll come back. Sabo always comes back. So we don’t need to worry.”

That’s how it works: If Luffy believes in something, his crew does, too. It’s how they’ve always worked, how they’ve pulled off miracle after miracle and will continue to do so until they have sailed the entirety of the Grand Line and their captain is made King.

Something burns in Luffy’s eyes now and it’s not… that. It’s desperate, hunted, wrong. A lie said like a truth, and Usopp would know.

It occurs to him, in a distant part of his mind, that this is the first time he’s seen his captain truly afraid.

And it’s that what kicks Usopp’s brain into overdrive, because on this crew of reckless monsters he’s the one tasked with a healthy sense of fear, to manage the doubts everyone else doesn’t have because those are important, sometimes.

Because true bravery is a road made of boundaries and the means to overcome them, again and again and again – as many times as it takes to reach the end.

“Luffy”, Usopp says, and his voice doesn’t shake. He doesn’t let it. “We got this. We can save your brother. You have to trust us.”

In many ways, this is Usopp’s personal nightmare come true. He sees Luffy clench his trembling hands to fists, and his eyes narrow, and the vulnerability there bends into anger in an instant and it’s all so familiar.

“It’s not about that. It’s my decision to make, and I’ve decided. We’re not going.”

But this time, Usopp breathes. He forces himself to pause, just a moment, just so he can think and not lose himself to the panicked rush of blood to his head.

“We’re not gonna die, Luffy. We went through hell before and we came out alright, didn’t we? So we have to go. Please let us go.”

Suddenly Nami moves, kneeling next to the bed. She places a hand on Luffy’s wrist, gentle over the tense line of muscle there. “Luffy. Usopp’s right. Sabo’s your brother. He’s family.”

“I know that. I know–”

Luffy pulls away from her, from all of them, hides his face in his hands and pushes his fingers into his eyes hard enough that the bones in his hand show, thin and fragile-looking. One by one, tears start dripping down his palms and to the covers below.

“You guys don’t understand”, he says, his voice a hoarse, quivering mess. “You think you’ve seen hell but you haven’t, ‘cause Impel Down is hell and if we go there– There’s no way we’re getting out. Not a-all of us.”

It’s so quiet Usopp can’t even hear anyone else breathing but Luffy, every inhale hitched and barely realized before rushing back out. It’s like he can’t but speak, the horrors he’s seen and never talked about strangling him from the inside.

“Back then I wasn’t thinking ‘cause it was A-Ace, and he was trapped in there and not free, and just the thought of him dying like that made me sick. I only survived ‘cause I had a ton of help and ‘cause a bunch of people died instead of me.”

Luffy stops, and breathes, and rubs his arm across his face until the tears are gone. Usopp doesn’t mention he’s probably ruining the careful work Chopper put into binding that arm. Chopper himself is too busy crying his eyes out against Franky’s shoulder to really notice.

“I’m not risking it”, Luffy says then, eyes dull and red-rimmed. “Mariejois – that’s at Sabaody, right? Marineford and G-1 are around there, too. It’s gonna be a huge mess, again, and I…”

I can’t do it, not again.

It goes unsaid, in the end; perhaps, despite everything, Luffy isn’t actually capable of expressing something so devoid of hope, so close to giving up. That’s… more than nothing, it’s enough to hold on to, and that’s exactly what Usopp does.

“Then we won’t go to Impel Down. And we won’t go to Marineford, or G-1, or wherever those assholes are gonna make a show out of– That. Okay, Luffy? We won’t go to any of those places.”

“But… then how…?”

Usopp searches for Zoro, his gaze bridging the few feet between them that feel endless and Zoro blinks and gives him that devil-may-care smirk of his. To Zoro’s credit, it almost looks right.

“We’re pirates”, says Usopp with enough conviction for both Luffy and himself. For all of them, really, for one brilliant moment.

“We’re going to catch them at sea, because we have the best navigator and the fastest ship and the most skilled helmsman. We’re going to fuck them up because we have the strongest swordsman and a musician who can cut through souls and a freaking cyborg with laser beams and Nico Robin. And we’re going to be fine, because Sanji’s food raised you from the dead just this morning and Chopper can heal any wound and because our captain always leads us right. And even if they manage to account for all of that…”

Usopp grins with far too much teeth.

“We just have to get in range. I’ll shoot those bastards from so far away they won’t even see it coming, and if anyone even thinks of laying a hand on your brother I’ll shoot those off too.”

Luffy just stares at him like he’s seeing him for the first time, eyes swimming in tears. Then he laughs, an awkward, hiccupping kind of laughter that’s raw relief more than anything else. “That’s right”, he gasps, a hand rubbing at his chest where the starburst scar is currently hidden from sight.

“You’re right! We’ll save Sabo, and everyone will be okay, and then we’ll throw the biggest party ever. Right?”

“Right”, Usopp says, “and don’t you dare forget it”, voice wobbling all over the place now that his captain is smiling again, and he hears a fond sigh from Sanji to his left and a melodic chuckle from Robin to his right and Nami looks at him with so much pride Usopp doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It’s Jinbei he settles on, who gives his captain a soft look before he meets Usopp’s eyes half-way and nods, his smile full of admiration. For him. Usopp, son of Yasopp, from Syrup Village, East Blue.

None of his storybooks taught Usopp what to do after the heroic speech is over and the day is saved. And perhaps there is no trick to it, no how-to guide to achieve that dream of his – perhaps, for now, it’s enough to let himself be dragged into a rubber-limbed hug that threatens to crush his ribs, and share the laugh that found its home in his captain once more.

If that’s the case, then Usopp thinks he’s doing alright on the hero front after all.

#one piece #fanfiction #monkey d. luffy #usopp #roronoa zoro #one piece spoilers #one piece fanfiction #oda's got me so tense about the wano arc and what comes after omg #(also sorry if the read more doesn't work RIP)#let's see if tumblr actually throws this in the tags this time #not linking AO3 for the same reason but this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff

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violethowler · 5 years

Text

This Isn’t A Zero Sum Game: An Analysis of Lotor’s Interactions With The Paladins as a Whole Across Seasons 5 and 6

Every once in a while I’ll think about some “hot take” I saw in the VLD fandom more than a year ago and just think about how canon... just did not support those conclusions... And since that’s how most of my meta get started, I churned out a new one:

In the wake of Seasons 5 and 6 dropping I saw a lot of posts, particularly from Lotor stans, bashing the Paladins for the way they treated him in the first two episodes of Season 5, how cruel they were to just give him over to his father without a second thought. I even saw a few arguing over how humane his treatment was in S5E1.

While I do believe that Lotor’s desire for peace was genuine (as we would have seen in Season 8 before the executive meddling cut the payoff), I think that it’s a little extreme to argue that the Paladins treatment of him in S5E1 The Prisoner was unethical, or that they were just throwing him to the wolves in S5E2.

To quote one of my favorite video game characters, “Let’s hit these plot points in order.”

What exactly were people expecting the Paladins to do after Lotor saved the day in “A New Defender”? Immediately welcome him into the fold with open arms and a fresh batch of cookies that Hunk made just for the occasion? They’re forgetting that just a few episodes ago, Lotor was still in charge of the Galra Empire. He wasn’t a fringe third party with a checkered past who showed up to help when the chips were down like Rolo and Nyma. For all of Season 3 and most of Season 4, he’s been an enemy combatant, and they treated him as such. While he may currently be at odds with his father after S4E3, the Paladins have no way to know whether he genuinely wants peace or is just telling them what they want to here so he can take advantage of them. Because he’s done it before.

In S3E2 Red Paladin, Lotor has Narti use her mind control powers to have the leader of Puig send a distress signal asking Voltron for help. When they arrive, he ambushes them and sends multiple waves of fighters to gauge their skill and whether they would be able to retrieve the trans reality comet. When he gets what he wants, he leaves.

Two episodes later, in S3E4 Hole in the Sky, Lotor attaches a distress beacon to the ship with the comet inside that mimics an Altean distress signal. When Voltron arrives, he waits for them to retrieve the comet, then attacks them, steals the comet for himself, and flies off.

That’s two times now that Lotor has faked a distress signal and then used Voltron’s desire to help to further his own agenda before flying off with the fruits of his labor. He may not have done anything to them since then, but they are understandably wary of being used like that a third time. You know how the old saying goes. “Fooled me once, shame on you. Fooled me twice, shame on me.”

So, when he slides up to the Coalition saying “hey, I know we’ve fought in the past but let’s see if we can come to an agreement”, he’s looked at with suspicion, and understandably so. The Paladins aren’t going to just give free reign of the Castle of Lions to someone they know very little about, who was an enemy combatant less than a month ago (by all indications S4E2-6 take place within a very short period of time), and who has a history of using their desire to help people to advance his own agenda. So, they put him in the cell as a probationary measure. If he proves trustworthy, they give him access to more of the castle. If it turns out that he’s using them for his own ends like they fear, well, they’ve already locked him up, and at least he wouldn’t have been able to access any sensitive information. We see that bear out in S5E3 Postmortem. The Paladins aren’t bothered that Lotor’s out of his cell. He’s proven his intentions by killing his father. Their main reaction is surprise that they’re giving him access to the bridge already.

[EDIT]: Some posts following the release of Season 5 pointed out that if the lights on Lotor’s prison deck were kept on 24/7, it would constitute a form of torture. While that is a valid point to make, I saw quite a few blogs that took that possibility and exaggerated it, not even considering the “if” part of the original discussion, declaring it as fact, and rushing to label the Paladins’ actions as war crimes because we never saw Lotor’s cell with the lights off. It should be noted that all of these scenes took place in the daytime, and while we never see that specific room at night, Season 2 already showed that the castle’s lights are turned off during the night cycle, and there’s nothing to suggest they didn’t do the same with Lotor’s cell.

And there’s also another angle that isn’t really talked about – that not everyone we saw in the Coalition in previous seasons was willing to work alongside Galra like the Blade of Marmora. While the rebels we see in Begin the Blitz and A New Defender are just fine working with the Blades, it’s not out of the question that some Coalition members might resent the Coalition’s Galra allies. And if Lotor’s on the Castle of Lions, that would make him a target. The cell could also have been just as much to keep trigger happy Coalition members out as it was to keep him in.

Then I hear people arguing that they were just going to hand him over to Zarkon with no strings attached, that they were just going to give Lotor up and trust that Zarkon would stay true to his word. It sometimes sounded like some people want so badly for Lotor to be a bigger victim than he already is that they twisted canon to make the Paladins out to be thoughtless jerks. Because S5E2 Blood Duel shows us that everything that happened was all according to plan.

For those who are unfamiliar, the Unspoken Plan Guarantee trope refers to the pattern that the more the audience knows the details of the plan beforehand, the greater the chances the plan will fail, and the fewer details the audience knows in advance, the greater the chances the plan will succeed. Explaining the details of the plan after it’s been successfully carried out is optional.

After Zarkon pulls the hologram trick, the phrase “Hold our position until the time is right.” Is repeated by both Shiro and Lance (albeit without the “until the time is right” part for Lance). And the show tells us that the moment when “the time is right” is when Lotor attacks Zarkon and leads him away from the shuttle.

When the Paladins are arguing with Shiro in S5E3 Postmortem, they don’t say anything to the effect of “why did you give Lotor a weapon?” They had no problem with him being armed. The issue they had was that Lotor was given the Black Bayard, his father’s signature weapon they had only just gotten back from Zarkon 14 episodes ago. One wrong move in Blood Duel, and that weapon would have been back in Zarkon’s hands. And for a moment in that episode, it was. Zarkon did get his hands on the Black Bayard and if Lotor had been a second too slow, Zarkon would have killed all five Paladins, plus Matt and Sam in a single strike.

I’ve mentioned before that VLD prefers to show things to the audience rather than explain them out loud. Sometimes it’s to the show’s detriment because the answer to viewers’ questions aren’t immediately obvious. But watching Blood Duel again, it’s clear that plan was always “make the hostage exchange. Wait for Zarkon to double cross us. Lotor attacks Zarkon and leads him on a chase across the desert. Shiro, Matt, and Pidge storm the shuttle to free Sam.” The Paladins were always going to ensure that Lotor was armed during the fight with his father. The only issue they had was Shiro’s choice of what weapon to give him.

So now that Lotor has proven they can trust him, they start to drop their guard and be more casual and friendly around him. And according to Matt during the flashbacks in S7E7 “The Last Stand: Part”, by the time Sam Holt has been on Earth for just over a year, Voltron had been missing for six months. That means that between S5E5 Bloodlines and S6E4 The Colony, Voltron and Lotor had been working together for just over six months. That’s six months of the Paladins slowly growing to trust and befriend the new Galra Emperor. But the little embers of doubt about his intentions were still there in the back of each of their minds.

That’s why it’s so easy for the Paladins to believe Keith and Romelle when they show up accusing him of murdering Alteans with no concrete evidence other than their own assumptions. Because given his behavior before Naxzela, an apparent reveal that he had been playing the long game manipulating them all along rekindled those embers of suspicion. It’s easy for them to conclude that Lotor was playing a long con since it would fit with his behavior towards them prior to Season 4. Because what non-nefarious reason could Lotor possibly have for not telling Allura and Coran that he had been sheltering the surviving Alteans after working together for six months?

We know why Lotor didn’t say anything. Because he refused to risk Haggar discovering the Colony’s existence and scouring the universe until she found it. But the Paladins have never experienced the level of privacy invasion and subsequently justified paranoia that Lotor has. So, they do not have the experience to understand that he refused to risk the security of the colony by revealing its existence where Haggar might have spies or listening devices or cloned sleeper agents to overhear.

I agree with the theory that Lotor was telling the truth about the Altean Colony and that what was happening there was not what Keith and Romelle believed it was. I absolutely believe that the Paladins leaving Lotor in the rift was a mistake. But the attempts by certain Lotor stans to water this down to a black and white scenario of Paladins Evil, Lotor Good are not supported by canon. Canon shows us that the falling out between Lotor and the Paladins was a messy situation where everyone had understandable reasons for reacting to the reveal of the colony as they did. That doesn’t make any one person’s reactions right or justified, only that if you put the pieces together it’s understandable how they reached the conclusions they did.

TL;DR: There is no evidence in the show that suggests Lotor was treated inhumanely, the Paladins were never going to just hand him to Zarkon unarmed and hope for the best, and Lotor's paranoid refusal to tell them about the Colony gave Keith's accusations greater weight because it was in line with his behavior towards the Paladins in Season 3 enough for them to believe that he had been pulling a long con all along.

#voltron meta #vld lotor #voltron legendary defender #character analysis #vld paladins #vld season 5 #voltron season 5 #voltron season 6 #vld season 6

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years

Text

Bad Blood - Chapter 13

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

__________________

Stiles is drifting when he comes back to himself in slow degrees. He first becomes aware that he’s alive, and even though he can’t remember exactly what happened, he’s somehow faintly surprised by that. He’s alive, and how crazy is that? It feels like too much of a struggle to actually open his eyes, so he doesn’t.

He drifts again.

It’s nice.

It takes a while to come back, and this time it’s not as pleasant.

His throat hurts, and he feels weak, and tries to lift his hand to figure out what’s going on only to find that someone is holding his wrist. It’s a warm touch, strong but gentle.

“Shh,” someone murmurs. “Shh, Mischief. You’re okay.”

That voice transports him someplace else, and for just a second Stiles is a little kid again, and he’s safe and warm and loved.

Just for a second.

Because then he remembers the man that voice belongs to is a traitor.

***

Stiles is weak, but he’s angry.

His father—Janusz, John, whatever he calls himself now—took hundreds of years of history, of tradition, of pride, of family, and ground it into the mud under his unworthy heel. He gave Stiles the name Stilinski, and made it a curse at the same time. He’s the reason that Stiles has to try twice as hard to prove half as much. He’s the reason that others hunters look at Stiles narrowly, and spit on the floor after he passes.

Stiles wrenches his arm away from this old sad man with his old sad eyes, and rolls off the table he’s lying on. He lands on his hands and knees on a linoleum floor that smells of bleach, a metal tray and instruments clattering down beside him.

“Stiles!” someone exclaims, and Stiles looks up sharply to see that Derek’s moving towards him from the corner of the room.

A werewolf and a traitor.

Stiles’s heart beats faster. He grabs for the surgical scissors that have landed on the floor beside him. He opens them even as his father looms over him, and then his father is pulling him to his feet, and Stiles is digging the point of the scissor into the man’s throat.

“You fucking traitor!”

“Stiles,” his father says, and his voice cracks. “Mischief.”

He’s not fighting. Why isn’t he fighting? His father isn’t a young man, but Stiles is so weak right now that he’s pretty sure they’re evenly matched. He digs the scissor point into his father’s throat, applying pressure but not drawing blood yet. His own throat throbs with pain. There’s a sort of symmetry here, isn’t there? Both the Stilinskis with their throats cut.

The door to the room opens, and Stiles sees the blue-eyed beta who injured him, with the alpha standing at his shoulder.

“Put the scissors down, little hunter,” the beta says, and his claws come out.

“Back off, Peter,” his father says. “Back the fuck off!”

Stiles steps back, getting the wall behind him, and pulling his father with him.

The blue-eyed beta—Peter—lets his claws retract.

Stiles glances to his left, to Derek, and then to his right, to the werewolves blocking his exit. His hands are shaking, and his father must be able to feel it in every press of the scissor point.

“Stiles,” his father says, and his voice is calm, “nobody here is going to hurt you.”

God. His father’s voice makes him feel dizzy, almost nauseated. Suddenly there’s a screaming kid inside him who wants his dad. But it was a lie. That kid doesn’t fucking know anything, because it was all a lie. His father is a traitor. His father stole his birthright from him.

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “If you think that’s the issue here, you’re not paying attention.”

“The Argents aren’t good people, Stiles,” his father says.

“Shut up.”

“You know who was a good person? Scott. Scott McCall was a good person.” His father just keeps talking, his tone steady. “He was just a kid, Stiles, and someone’s going to have to tell his mom he’s not coming home again.”

“Shut up!” Stiles growls.

“He was just a kid, Stiles,” his father says again. “And so are you.”

Stiles tightens his grip on the scissors. “I’m not a kid, I’m a hunter.”

And then, from his father’s pocket, a phone’s ringtone blares out.

“That will be the station,” his father says. “I need to answer that.”

But he makes no move to reach for his phone, and the ringtone ends on a tinny note. A moment later it starts up again.

“Stiles,” Derek says suddenly, and Stiles turns his head quickly to look at him. “You can walk out of here. Is that what you want? To walk out of here?”

What he wants? Stiles doesn’t know what he wants. He’s got a screaming kid inside his skull, and Gerard’s voice telling him to do his fucking duty, and what he wants is to go back to that place where he’s floating and nothing hurts. He doesn’t want to think about his father, or Scott, or the million other chaotic thoughts that are colliding in his brain. But he needs to get away from here. He needs to get away.

He jerks his head in a nod, blinking away his sudden tears.

“You can tell them you escaped,” Derek says. “You can tell them you went to the hospital and someone there stitched you up. They don’t need to know you talked to us, or to your father.”

Stiles’s mind tumbles over that.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, but he can’t help thinking that he’d like that as well. He’s in such turmoil, and he doesn’t want to have to explain that to Gerard and Kate. He just wants to tamp it down and pretend it never happened. That’s safest. That’s smartest.

Derek’s brow creases. “You’re not the only one who’s been lied to by them, Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t know what that means, and he doesn’t trust it. They’re trying to manipulate him here, and that’s fine. As long as he can see it, it’s fine. If they want to let him go—he’ll believe it when it happens, frankly—then Stiles won’t argue. He’s armed with a pair of fucking scissors. This isn’t a fight he can win.

“Let him through, Peter,” Derek says softly, and fucked if Stiles can figure out how shit works in this pack. The alpha hasn’t said a damned word, and now a beta is giving orders to the left hand? “Let him go.”

Peter and the alpha move out of the doorway.

“Our pack never hurt anyone,” Derek says, “and Kate burned down our house and killed most of my family. They’re lying to you.”

“You’re lying to me,” Stiles shoots back.

“I wish you could hear my heartbeat,” Derek says softly.

He’s a good liar, Stiles thinks. Stiles almost believes him now, just like he believed in that kiss.

He glances from Derek to the door, and back to Derek again. He feels like a cornered animal—he figures he can smirk at the irony of that later, if he survives this—and the only thing stopping the werewolves from attacking is the fact he’s got the point of the scissors jabbed against his father’s throat.

And what does that tell him? Nothing he doesn’t already know. His father is a traitor, and he’s allied himself with the enemy. If there was even a shred of a hunter left in him, the werewolves wouldn’t care if Stiles killed him.

“We’re moving,” Stiles says, and begins an awkward sideways shuffle towards the door. If his father wants to try to fling him off, now will be the time. But his father doesn’t do anything except comply.

Stiles moves out into the hallway. He can see a counter from here, and a front door. There’s a display shelf full of pet food on the wall. Is… is this a vet’s? Okay, he’ll laugh at that later too, maybe.

Peter and the alpha are watching from the other end of the hallway.

There’s nothing between Stiles and the door now.

“Stiles,” his father says, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice at last. “I love you, kiddo. Please remember that.”

Stiles drops the scissors and runs.

***

His throat is bleeding through the bandage by the time Stiles manages to find his way back to the house.

“Holy shit!” Kate exclaims when she opens the door to him. “We thought you were dead.”

“Got away,” Stiles mutters. His hands are shaking so much he can’t hide it. “Had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t know why he’s telling the lie. He thinks it might be because Derek told him to, and Derek is the one who let him walk out of there. He doesn’t know if that means Derek saved him or if Derek’s manipulating him. It scares him that he doesn’t know.

“Dad!” Kate yells. “Stiles isn’t dead! You can call off the reinforcements!”

“I need a shower,” Stiles says. He steps inside and falters when he sees Gerard appear out of the living room. “I need to get cleaned up first, please.”

Gerard’s gaze lingers on the wound on his neck. “That’s not a bite, I hope.”

“No,” Stiles says.

“Because if it is—”

“Dad,” Kate says. “Let him get showered.” She winks at Stiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “Go on, string bean.”

He climbs the stairs, not daring to look back and see Gerard’s stare.

He knows his place here. He knows the rules, and he knows what’s expected of him. He knows he’ll be punished for tonight, and he knows it won’t be called punishment. Gerard will call it training, but it’ll hurt as much as any beating.

Stiles heads straight for the bathroom and closes the door behind himself.

He takes off his shoes and socks, and then his bloody t-shirt, and stares at his reflection in the mirror. He looks pale and haggard.

He’ll have to figure out a way to shower without getting his throat wet, and he’s not going to go back downstairs for saran wrap now.

He tugs the button on his jeans free and unzips his fly. He steps out of his jeans, tugging his underwear down at the same time.

A little folded piece of cardboard goes flying from his pocket.

Stiles winces as he bends down to pick it up from the tiles.

It’s not cardboard. It’s a photograph, and it’s got creases on it from where it’s been folded over to fit in someone’s wallet. Written on the back in faded pen are the words Claudia & Mieczysław.

Stiles’s heart hammers as he turns the photograph over.

A little gap-toothed kid grins up at him from where he’s sitting in Mom’s lap. She’s smiling too, and she’s so beautiful. His father isn’t in the picture. He must have taken it.

Stiles stares down at it, his throat aching. His closes his trembling fingers around the photograph—to crush it, to throw it out, to pretend it doesn’t exist—but he can’t bring himself to do it.

Instead, he tucks it back into the pocket of his jeans so he can take it back to his bedroom when he’s finished here, and stare at it again in the middle of the night.

He doesn't understand what happened tonight. It makes nosense. The werewolves let him go, and his father didn't fight him.

Stiles will need something to stare at in the middle of the night, because he knows he won't be able to sleep.

#sterek #steter senior #bad blood #my fics #discontentedwinter

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just-jordie-things · 6 years

Text

Training the Fox - Scott McCall

word count: 6,219 warnings: swearing, childhood trauma (?) emotional abuse summary: (y/n) was trapped as a fox for the past ten years of her life, but Scott McCall helps ease her back into society as a member of his pack. Falling in love with her was just a bonus. (a/n): I just love writing kitsune!reader fics

You hissed and cried, the sounds soon becoming mingled as you ran faster and faster, hoping to shake off the hunters trailing you. Your paws hurt and all of your muscles aching but you couldn’t stop. They’d shoot you if you did, and you weren’t ready to die. You wanted to shift back, you wanted to be a human again, like when you were young. You were sure that years had passed, but you couldn’t be a fox forever, right?

Your thoughts and silent begs for another chance at life were cut off when you’d stepped into a bear trap.

You jolted up, springing upright and perching yourself in a squat on the couch you’d been sleeping on. Your body began to shake, from the fear, and the lack of your fur coat to keep you warm. Your head turned, side to side, checking your surroundings, but you didn’t seem to be in any danger.

Until you heard footsteps rushing down the stairs and towards the living room you were sat in. You jumped again, spinning around and glaring with glowing fiery eyes at the man who ran up to you, standing at the back of the couch as you leaned over it to see him.

“(y/n)?” Scott, it was Scott. You knew Scott, he was a protector, he trusted you, you trusted him. He was the only one you trusted. It was why you chose to stay here.

“Fine, I’m fine” You muttered, already curling back up as though you were still an animal.

“You’re lying, your heart’s beating like crazy, what happened?”

“Nothing I’m fine-”

“Come on” And before you could protest, Scott had his arms wrapped around you. You wiggled uncomfortably, not used to physical contact. “Tell me”

“No” You grumbled, shoving his hold off of you. “Go back to bed. I’m fine. Leave me alone” You balled yourself up and willed yourself to go back to sleep.

“(y/n/n)” The nickname came easy off his tongue, and your eyes shot open to stare at him with surprise. Last nickname you had was ‘vermin’ and it was by a hunter who’d been chasing after you for weeks. “Open up a little you can trust me” Scott slowly sat down on the sofa next to you, reaching a hand out to you.

The fire in your eyes extinguished, reverting back to their usual y/e/c.

“You’re safe here, okay? Do you believe me?” You nodded your head a little, sitting up to properly speak with him.

“I’ve been having nightmares ever since I became human again” You told him. Scott set his hand on your knee, and you didn’t shove him off this time. “I’m scared they’re still going to find me”

“They won’t”

“You don’t know that” You said with a small snarl to your words. But it didn’t affect Scott one bit. He knew you were still adjusting, and that some things may be difficult. He’d learned plenty from Malia to know how these things go.

“I do” He said as softly as he could. “Tomorrow I’m going to take you to meet Malia, and she’ll talk to you about it all”

“What do you mean?”

“She was just like you. Trapped as- well as a coyote but it was eight years before we could help her” He told you. “She had to adjust too”

But you frowned, not really caring about someone else’s life story.

“Just cause she can do it doesn’t mean that I can” You responded bitterly. Your eyes blank and your body rigid. Every few minutes you would shake from the cold, but you’d calm down not long after. Instead of rolling his eyes, he smiled gently towards you.

“You could be right” He acknowledged. “But what if you aren’t?” You frowned. “What if it does work, and you don’t get nightmares anymore? And you aren’t so cold all the time?”

You were silent, staring at him with widened and curious eyes. Although if you were being honest, you weren’t sure if it was possible.

“You’ll try, won’t you?” He asked, setting his hand on your shoulder. You jolted slightly, and looked down to where he was warmly touching you.

“Yeah” You sighed eventually. “I’ll try” Scott smiled at you, squeezing your shoulder before standing up. “Get some sleep, we can go over in the morning, okay?”

“Okay” You whispered, watching as he pulled your fallen blanket up from the floor and set it in your lap.

“And if you have any more nightmares, don’t hesitate to come get me okay? I don’t mind” He offered kindly. You could only shakily nod your head as he walked back to the staircase. “And if after tonight you aren’t comfortable here, we’ll find somewhere else for you to stay, okay?” Again you nodded, and Scott sent you a smile, and headed upstairs.

You couldn’t believe his hospitality. As soon as him and his pack of misfits found you, he’d welcomed you with open arms. While at first you were skeptical and upset, since he was the reason you were suffering as a human. But now as you thought about it, he had saved your life. And he was still trying to.

You just wondered if it was possible.

The following morning was a mess. Scott had you go through the shower, which you hadn’t done in years and couldn’t quite find the right temperature. Eventually you’d turned it to the highest it could go sitting down and enjoying the heat. After forty five minutes had passed Scott was banging on the door and begging you to be done.

You’d come out with a scowl on your face and a towel around your body.

“I was enjoying the warmth”

“(y/n) there’s steam everywhere” Scott replied. “You could’ve passed out if you were in there any longer” He guided you into his room to help you find something to wear, seeing as you didn’t actually have any clothes. You’d been wearing a sweater and leggings from their hunter friend Allison for two days now.

The clothes were supposed to be her way of telling you she was an ally, and you didn’t have to be afraid of her. Though naturally you were still skeptical, you took them and thanked her. Mostly because Scott said it was the polite thing to do.

“You can pick whatever makes you comfortable, it’ll mostly be too big but we can go to the store or something and find clothes your size” He said. Your eyes and fingers raked over just about every piece of clothing in his closet, inspecting every pair of pants, jeans, khakis, sweatpants. All his hoodies, tee shirts, sweaters, you didn’t let one thing go unnoticed. But Scott was patient, letting you take your time so you could be comfortable.

“These are all too big” You said, but picked up a pair of grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt anyways. Scott rushed out of the room as soon as you began to unwrap the towel, clearly not caring you weren’t alone in the room.

After changing into the big comfy clothes, you wandered around his room, snooping just a little bit. Strumming a few strings on his guitar, reading the spines of books you wondered if he ever read, checking out the laptop he had. You couldn’t remember what kind of computers were out before your childhood was taken away from you, but this seemed a lot more advanced than what was around back then.

“(y/n)?” Scott knocked on the door before walking into the room. He’d heard you mess around with the guitar and figured you were finished up.

“Has it really been ten years?” You hummed, mostly to yourself as you looked at childhood pictures he had on his wall. You didn’t know anyone in them, but somehow staring at them made you feel like you had missed out on something.

Scott sighed, walking over to where you stood at his wall. But your eyes stayed glued to the photographs. He studied you as you looked through each one carefully.

“I’ve been gone, for ten whole years” You whispered. “I’ve missed everything, I don’t know anything, or anyone, I’m still practically a child but I’m....”

“Seventeen” Scott answered gently when he realized you had a hard time even keeping track. You sniffled and shook your head, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of Scott’s sweatshirt. Letting out a bitter chuckle, you turned towards him.

“I’m ready to go now” You said softly, turning away from he pictures. Scott nodded as the both of you headed out of his room and down to his motorbike. “Hey, Scott?” You asked before he could drive off.

“Yeah?”

“When we come back, can you tell me about those pictures?” She asked him. Scott turned around to look at her, nodding his head gently.

“Sure we can” He said, smiling as he turned around again and started driving to Malia’s.

He knew it was going to be a tough adjustment for you, every part of it was bound to be difficult. The social and societal aspects, people had changed in the last decade, the education you’d missed, the general news, and just dealing with the fact your chance at normal had been torn away from you.

“I don’t know what you want me to do” Malia growled under her breath to Stiles. “I can’t help her, I wasn’t even able to help myself”

Stiles sighed, looking to Scott with an impatient expression.

“You have to try” Scot begged quietly. He glanced outside to where you were with Lydia and Kira. “Please, she needs your help” Malia groaned.

“Why? Because I was trapped as a coyote and she was trapped as a fox? That doesn’t connect us Scott, that makes us two bastards who got dealt shitty cards in life”

“Malia” Lydia’s voice hissed, making everyone spin around to see the front door open, the banshee standing in it. But you and Kira weren’t far off, and with your heightened senses you heard her just fine.

Without another word you left the door and went storming into the woods just off of the Tate property.

“Great” The werecoyote grumbled, heading out to go after you. Kira sighed, looking to the boys in the living room.

“She’s tortured” She told them, but mostly Scott. “By her own past, but she wants to move on”

“I’ll go help look” The alpha said, taking off in a haste and hoping to trace her scent well enough to find her quickly.

“You can’t just- don’t just run away like that” Scott scolded you, angrily brushing leaves off of the sleeves of the sweatshirt you were wearing. You didn’t say anything as he finished and pushed a helmet towards you. Your hesitant hands held it firmly as you stared at him in sorrow.

“I was going to come back” You told him, hoping it would make him feel better. Scott scoffed, but when he saw your apologetic expression he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry” You said, leaning her head up to be sure he was looking at you when she said it.

“I know (y/n)” Scott said, clasping his hand on your shoulder. “Just… don’t bolt like that” He said before getting on the bike to go home.

“I won’t leave” She reassured him, setting her hands on his shoulders to keep her steady. “Promise”

one year later

“Jesus fucking Christ how can I get out of here?” You muttered to Stiles next to you. Everyone was gathered around the Martin family beach house, waiting for Kira to show up with Liam.

Scott had a little slip up the other night at the hospital, and everyone was anxiously waiting to meet the new beta. Except Lydia, who was just pissed off the meeting place was the beach house. Her family was hoping to sell it for some extra cash, and the idea of a new werewolf wrecking the place peaked her anxiety.

“I would also like to get out of this” Lydia agreed with you.

“Well I don’t want to be here either but we don’t exactly have the choice” Malia stated. She, like Liam, was here for full moon reasons. Which didn’t seem to be improving anytime soon.

“No one’s leaving, we might need all of your help” Scott said, focusing on you and Malia. Both of you not happy about it but putting up with it anyways.

Besides, if Scott needed you, ou would never back out.

“I do love a good mauling” Stiles complained next to you, making you have to stifle your laughter behind your hands.

In the past year you’d become much closer to the rest of the McCall pack, and really became a part of the pack as well. Control was something that you struggled with for a long time, and there are still nights that you find it difficult, but you’d still made so much progress.

“There’s not going to be any maul-” Scott was cut off by the doorbell ringing, and everyone’s attention shot towards the front, but no one moved.

“Well? Is someone going to get that?” Lydia asked, but still no one made the move to.

“Shouldn’t the host of the house get it?” Malia said, and the banshee rolled her eyes, but dragged her way over to the door.

“What if he goes berserk and tries to kill us all?” Stiles asked, looking around at everyone.

“We put him down” You suggested with a shrug, reaching for your belt, which was really your sword in disguise.

“We can’t kill him” Scott said firmly, just to be sure there wouldn’t be unnecessary bloodshed tonight.

“What kind of party is this?” A new voice said, making your hands tighten on your belt. You looked over to see Lydia and Kira, along with a new, younger face, who you presumed was Liam. “There’s like, five of you”

“Liam, this is important” Stiles said, starting off the conversation since he and Scott were the only ones who actually knew him. “You’re… one of us now”

“What?”

“Liam this… this is a gift” Scott said, and you and Stiles groaned simultaneously. “The bite, it’s a gift”

“What the hell? That’s what this is about?” The sophomore rolled his eyes. “You biting me like a total psycho!?” He jerked forwards towards Scott, and in seconds you’d stepped forwards in front of him, hands still on your belt but trying your best not to use it.

“I’d stay in place if I were you” You snarled quietly eyes flaring orange. Liam’s body froze up before stumbling back to where he was.

“You- your-”

“(y/n)” Scott said carefully, gaining your attention, and nodding his head slightly to let you know it was okay. “Look, Liam, this really is important, would you just listen?”

He’d given in, but you weren’t convinced that he even believed a word anyone was saying. Scott went into great detail about what everything means, offered to answer any questions, even shared some of his own story, but Liam just seemed unresponsive.

“Okay” The new beta said. “Let me get this straight then… werewolf?” He pointed at Scott, who nodded. “Coyote?” He pointed at Malia, who also nodded, but in a somehow bored fashion. “Harbinger of death?”

“Just banshee” Lydia monotoned.

“Foxes?” Liam sounded even more confused as he pointed to you and Kira.

“No” You growled.

“Kitsune… but fox works” Kira said a bit more kindly. Liam nodded, looking between the both of you for another moment, before turning to Stiles.

“And what are you again?”

“Well a little while back I was possessed by an evil spirit… it was very evil” He said awkwardly, earning a weird look from Liam.

“And what are you now?”

“Better?” Stiles said, a confused expression on his face. In your opinion, he looked about ready to attack him. But so were you.

“Yeah, no. I’m out. You guys can’t keep me here, and I’m calling my friends and going home” Liam turned around to leave abruptly but Kira snatched his arm and tugged him back.

“You have to st-”

“You can’t keep me here!” He snapped at her, yanking his arm aggressively.

“Hey!” You stepped in, checking on Kira briefly as Liam had begun to yell at everybody. “If you don’t calm down right now-”

“(y/n)” Scott came up to you now, trying not to let the heat of the moment get everybody riled up. “Liam, let’s just calm down, okay? Just breathe-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down-!” Liam was screaming before suddenly collapsing, leaving Lydia standing behind him, Stiles’ baseball bat in her hands.

“God, you had to bite someone with anger issues, Scott?” She sighed, while everyone else stared at the unconscious body on the floor.

“Lydia Martin, always a badass” Stiles commented.

“Maybe we should-”

Again, the doorbell rang, leaving everyone exchanging confused looks.

“Oh my God!” Malia exclaimed as she raced to the windows. “It’s- like- a- party- Stiles” She heaved, realizing the full moon’s effect was starting to take place.

“Okay- okay okay okay downstairs, now!” He ordered, getting the chains and rushing the both of them to the door.

“What? What do you expect me to do?” Lydia squealed, stopping Stiles before he could rush off with Malia.

“Lyds, who throws the best parties in Beacon Hills?”

“Me, obviously!”

“Then throw a party!” Stiles hissed, and without another word the banshee rushed back to the front door.

“Okay, (y/n), help me out, we’ll take him to the docks” Scott suggested,and without hesitation she lifted him up over her shoulder.

“Oh geez, this kid is pure muscle” You muttered. Scott frowned, taking Liam himself and leading you outdoors. You followed closely behind.

Luckily you found rope and chains in the shed, and were able to tie Liam up so if he woke up then he wouldn’t be able to kill anyone immediately. You and Scott were watching him carefully, though he was still passed out.

“We should’ve gotten takeout” You mumbled after about ten minutes. Scott chuckled, looking over to you and nodding.

“Yeah, that would’ve been smart” He sighed. “I didn’t think we’d have to knock him out, I mean seriously”

“Anger issues. You gave someone the bite, who had anger issues” You monotoned, shaking your head. “Bright side, I’m no longer the new crazy psycho”

“Oh come on, you were never a psycho. New and crazy? Yeah a little bit, but I wouldn’t have said psycho” You smiled almost bashfully at the comment.

“Thanks Scott, that truly warms my heart” You joked, making him smile back at you.

“Actually (y/n), I think you’ve seriously progressed, I’m really proud of you” He said, and somehow you felt the entire mood between you shift.

“Yeah?” You asked, biting your cheek to keep from grinning too much.

“I mean, when we met you hated me for even turning you back” Scott said, making you roll your eyes. “And now it’s like… I don’t want to say normal but it’s… it’s really good”

“It is” You confirmed softly. “I do appreciate this life much more now, I used to think I’d be better off the fox forever, but…” Sighing contently, you looked over to Scott with a shy expression. “I think I’m much better off here”

“Yeah, I do too-“

The sound of music booming in the house made you jump, curious eyes glancing to where the party had definitely just taken a turn for the craziest. Scott could see the wonder on your face, knowing that you were intrigued by something so mundane.

“You can go inside, if you want, I’ve got him under control” Scott said, nodding off to Liam. But you shrugged your shoulders and looked away from the house.

“I’ll stay out here with you” You said, giving him a small smile.

It was no secret you preferred Scott’s company over anyone else’s, having moved into their guest room, him being the one who helped you with control, not to mention you simply found his presence comforting. Scott was kind, and he was funny, mostly not on purpose. He helped you study to catch up with the other students in your classes, he also helped teach you to drive, but eventually you just had to go to Mr. Yukimura because he feared for his life while you were behind the wheel. Everyone knew how close you were, everyone understood the connection you’d made with him. He was your anchor, simple as that. It didn’t need to be said, just simply kown.

“Have you ever been to one of those?” You asked him, pulling your knees to your chest and pointing towards the house.

“A party?” He clarified with a small chuckle. You nodded your head, and Scott hesitantly nodded back. “Once or twice, yeah” He seemed to think back on it. “They’re alright, parts of it like the movies, most of it not. Lots of drinking, but there’s no pressure to. Same with dancing”

“Did you do that?” You asked him. He shrugged a shoulder.

“I mean, I can’t get drunk so I don’t really drink anything anymore, and dancing was okay, it was nice being there with… her”

“Allison?” You asked carefully. Her name had barely been spoken since her passing, but you seemed to understand the situation.

“Yeah” Scott responded. But he didn’t seem as mournful as you’d expected, instead he smiled at you. “That was crazy, it was the night of the full moon, I actually ditched her. I don’t know why she agreed to go out with me again”

“Of course she did, you’re fun” You told him with a grin. Scott laughed humorlessly, but smiled over at you.

“You might be the first person to ever say that” He said.

“Well you’re one of the few people I actually know, so” You said kindly. “I would’ve gone on a second date” It was quiet for a moment as Scott studied you, how sweet you were being, how pretty you looked with the reflection of the water lightening your features.

“Thanks little fox” He replied somewhat jokingly, trying to make the mood lighter and get rid of the flutter in his chest from your words. You smiled at the nickname, though countless times before you’d mentioned you hated it. Right now, it was okay. You could let it slide.

“Of course” You grinned at him again, setting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his middle sweetly. “Tell me more about this party you went to”

“It was another one of Lydia’s. She used to throw them all the time, before the crazy stuff stared happening” He said. “It was my first date with- well actually it was my first date ever, and we were just… I don’t know, starting to get to know each other. It was fun, we drank a little bit and danced a little bit, and everything was really great until I had to ditch her since it was my first full moon” You chuckled slightly.

As he went on talking about his first few experiences as a werewolf, you grew comfortable, laying on him and listening intently. You’d never felt so calm while babysitting a tied up kid.

“That kid is a fucking runt” You groaned as you stumbled into the McCall house. “If he tries to kill me again, I’ll kill him first, I swear” Scott nodded along with you.

“Yeah I could be up for that”

Liam had broken loose, Malia had nearly killed Stiles, and a werewolf at the party got assassinated. So it wasn’t exactly the best of Lydia Martin’s parties, and definitely tainted your perception on parties. Liam had gone crazy on everyone who tried to help him or coax him down. You’d managed to get your arms swiped at, and your patience was thinning.

“I feel like collapsing. And dying. I haven’t even healed completely” You said, checking over your still bleeding wounds.

“You want to wrap that up?” Scott asked, locking the front door behind her.

“No, I just want it to heal as quickly as possible” You sighed. “I’m just gonna take a shower and pop in a movie to fall asleep to, wanna join?”

“For the shower or the movie?” Scott joked, earning a jab in the ribs from you. He laughed at his own joke before nodding his head. “Yeah that sounds great, you can pick” He said as you headed for the stairs. “I’ll make something to eat” He told you as you headed up the stairs.

“(y/n/n)? Scott? Is that you?” Melissa’s voice called, and before you could say anything, she was walking into the hall and fussing over your arm. “Oh, sweetheart, what happened? Was it that new little bitch?” She asked, tugging your jacket off to assess the wound.

“Yeah but it’s- it’s alright Ms McCall” You said dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt, I promise. It’ll heal” The woman frowned, both at you brushing off the injury and at calling her ‘Ms McCall’.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Melissa?” She said, making you smiled a little bit.

“Until the day I die” You told her, making her scoff playfully. “I’m gonna shower, Scott’s here too by the way, I think he’s trying to cook”

“Oh dear. Better go stop that before it starts” She sighed, going downstairs to stop Scott from burning down the kitchen.

After twenty minutes you were bounding down the steps in sweatpants and a big tee shirt, your arms cleaned up and the cuts almost healed up completely. Just as you were going to go into the kitchen to see what Scott made, you paused as you heard him and his mom talking.

“I’m just saying sweetheart, she’s a lovely girl-”

“Mom, she lives with us” Scott whispered out hastily, and awkwardly. You hid behind the entryway to the kitchen, listening intently, because clearly they were talking about you.

“So? These things never work out the way we think they do. Who knows? Maybe there’s something there?”

Something there? You thought to yourself, what does she mean by that?

“Mom. Really. Can we maybe drop this?” Scott pleaded. Melissa sighed, and you guessed she was shaking her head. “Seriously-”

“Okay, okay fine” Melissa gave in. “But I have never seen a dynamic like yours that doesn’t result in somebody falling in love”

“Mom-!”

“Sorry! Alright fine, I’m out of here” Melissa said, and as soon as you heard her footsteps you moved out of the way, seeming as though you’d just come down the stairs. “Oh! (y/n)!” She looked surprised to see you. “How’s your arm dear?”

“Much better, thank you” You responded politely, hoping you came across as casual. She nodded with a smile.

“Well, it’s very late for me, so I’m going to head up to bed. You and Scott have a nice night now” She said, placing a hand on your shoulder before saying goodnight and going upstairs.

You padded into the kitchen, watching Scott put two grilled cheeses on plates and grabbing bottles of water.

“So you didn’t burn down the kitchen?” You questioned with a small smirk. “Your mom seemed a little worried” He rolled his eyes.

“She’s just protective and awkward like that” He said. He seemed a little flustered, like he was stressed about the sandwiches, but you decided against mentioning it. Scott wasn’t great under pressure, and you didn’t want to make the stress worse. “Do you have a movie in mind?” He asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Actually yeah, I found this one I used to watch a lot… before… you know” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to keep it low key. “I thought it’d be nice to-”

“Okay” Scott nodded, agreeing instantly. “What movie?”

You helped him bring your food out to the living room and handed him the DVD case to put it in. Scott smiled at it, somewhat surprised by your choice. But when he looked back at you, smiling and eating your dinner on the couch, you seemed excited by it.

“Sleeping Beauty?” He questioned. “Really?” You nodded your head bashfully, and he pushed play before flopping onto the sofa next to you. “That surprises me. It has such a long and boring intro I’d think you’d be tired by it-”

“It’s not boring” You scoffed out of offense, hitting his chest with a throw pillow. “It’s art. I used to love this for it’s beauty. It is Sleeping Beauty after all”

“Sorry, sorry” He chuckled, tossing the pillow back to you. “I promise not to make fun of it”

And he didn’t, the whole first half hour you sat in complete silence. With you intently watching the movie, eyes and ears glued completely to the screen, and Scott switching between watching the movie, and watching you.

He wasn’t sure if this gut feeling he had, had always been there, or if it had just woken him up. But something was different between you two, and he knew it. He figured you knew it too, and that’s why you’d been far more affectionate than you once were.

“I can feel you staring at me” You muttered, finally tearing your eyes off the screen to look over at him. “What?”

“Hm?” He pretended to have zoned out, but you didn’t seem to care.

“Why are you staring? What’s wrong?” You asked, setting your now empty plate on the coffee table to turn and face him, giving him your full attention.

“Nothing’s wrong-”

“Then what is it?” You interrogated with wider eyes, knowing something was on his mind that he wasn’t telling you. Likely about his conversation with Melissa earlier. “Come on, Scott, seriously” You were seriously growing annoyed now.

“I’m just thinking, about nothing really, I just zoned out, no big deal” Scott said, trying to divert his attention back to the television. But he did cave a little further. “Just wondering what it was like when you watched this movie. When you were younger. Well, what a lot of your life was like when you were younger”

“Like what?” You asked, genuinely amused now as you smiled a bit. The idea of Scott daydreaming about your past.

“I don’t know just… family stuff, regular stuff, I guess” He shrugged. “Like… did you play with dolls? Were you a barbie kid?” You giggled at the simple dumb question, but felt your heart swell as his care to even ask.

“Yeah, I had my fair share of doll playing”

“See, that surprises me. I could never picture you doing something so…”

“Girly?” You offered. “Childish?”

“Yeah, I guess so” Scott shrugged his shoulders again. He seemed comfortable enough, but something about him made you want to set your hand on his shoulder, like everyone seemed to do.

“I get it. It’s hard to picture me having had a childhood at all” You stated. Scott turned abruptly as though to interrupt you, but you kept going. “I have a hard time remembering sometimes” You admitted softly. He physically relaxed, looking at you curiously. But you loved the look in his eyes as he scanned your features. “There’s nights I’ll just lay in bed and force myself to think about as much as I can, until eventually I’ll fall asleep”

“(y/n) that sounds…”

“Traumatic?” You whispered. Scott’s eyes seemed to stare into yours with the intensity of a fire. “I’ve been through worse” You sighed, finally breaking the eye contact that was making your whole chest heat up. You excused yourself to take your plate to the kitchen, taking a few steady breaths to calm your racing heart.

You set your plate in the sink, rinsing it off a bit and just standing there for a moment, allowing yourself to think about the nights where you’d sit in the living room and watch Sleeping Beauty on a loop. You always loved the ending, the changing in colors of Aurora’s dress, something about it always entranced you.

When you’d turned to head back to the living room, Scott was walking in with his own plate, but he set it on the counter.

“Hey,” You greeted awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to depress you-”

“No, you could never” Scott reassured. “I’m just… curious I guess. You don’t talk much about life before shifting and I just figure it’s something you don’t want to carry on your shoulders anymore” He said. “So… if you ever want to talk about it…” You smiled at his offer.

“There was a little boy across the street from where I lived,” You said softly, eyes wandering to the floor as you recalled your previous life. “We used to play outside together in the summer months, and in the winter we’d… well we rarely were outside. I always hated snow, found it to be too cold and it put me in a bad mood to be cold”

Scott smiled, remembering how chilly you always were when he first met you, without a protective fur coat.

“His name was… his name was Ben” You murmured. “I don’t know where he is now… but he was a great friend. My only friend, really”

“Really? Just the one?” Scott asked, completely shocked. You rolled your eyes and slugged his arm gently.

“After I shifted and… found out my parents were hunters I just… I don’t know, I bolted. I didn’t think about it when I left, to check on him, I just got the hell out of there as fast as I could” You sighed, remembering sprinting on all fours into the night. “I was so scared my own family was going to kill me… I just thought everyone would be against me at that point”

“(y/n)...” Scott breathed, smelling the heavy scent of dread radiating off of you. He stepped forward to hug you, and you hesitantly accepted. It’d taken months to get you to this point of opening up, but he was glad you’d confided in him. “You were too young to be afraid of such a thing”

“Yeah well, your childhood wasn’t peachy either McCall” You sniffled as you pulled away, wiping the pads of your fingers under your eyes to keep the tears from falling. He half smiled at you, knowing you were just trying to take the focus off of you.

“I guess no one gets the happy backstory” He said, making you chuckle bitterly.

“I’m not exactly expecting a happy ending either, but this middle part is pretty content” You said, and Scott shook his head.

“No,” He stated. “No, you get the happy ending”

“Unless you consider angry hunters with guns and torches a happily ever after, you are mistaken-” Before you could finish, Scott had stepped forward, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours. You squeaked slightly, completely taken off guard by the action. But in a few moments you’d wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on the tips of your toes to reach him properly. You’d never kissed anyone before, but it certainly was like in every movie you’d ever seen.

Scott’s hands traveled to your waist, tugging you closer as the kiss deepened quickly, your tongue swiping over his parted lips and immediately being met with his. The slightest of moans died in the back of your throat, but the sound made Scott’s grip tighten, before lifting you up completely, and setting you onto the counter. In the brief moment of parting, you grinned at him, before leaning back in to slant your lips over his once more, your fingers tangling into his thick locks of hair. You couldn’t help yourself, legs wrapping around his hips and letting his mouth trail along your jawline and to your neck, sucking sweetly on that special spot behind your ear.

“Fuck,” Your breath fanned out ever so softly, hands falling from his hair to his shoulders, your head falling back slightly to give him more access. The smile on his lips was easily felt on your skin, and you pulled back to look at him again, slightly breathless but smiling softly as you shut your eyes and leaned in for one more gentle kiss.

The line that the two of you had been dancing on was finally crossed, in an earth shattering, life changing sort of way.

When you parted, your legs releasing to rest on either side of him, hands set gently on his shoulders as you stared at him. Scott’s own heartbeat was starting to steady, his forehead pressing down against yours slightly as a smile graced your lips.

“That was… a bit unexpected” You mused, unsure of what to say, but Scott chuckled at the comment, pulling away so you could slide off of the countertop. “But nice” You added, only making him laugh again.

“Yeah, very nice” He agreed. He took your hand as the two of you made your way back to the living room to finish the movie. This time cuddled up together with your legs strewn over his lap and your arms wound around one another.

With the trauma of your past, you were delighted to enjoy your present with Scott.

taglist: @aw-hawkeye @socially-awkward-nerd @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lovelynerdytraveler @writings-and-stuff@jurassicpork @black-tights-black-heart @piper-x-lee

xoxo ~ jordie

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf scenario #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #Scott mccall #Scott McCall x reader #Scott mccall scenario #Scott mccall imagine #Scott mccall fanfiction #Tyler posey #Tyler posey x reader #Tyler posey imagine #Tyler posey fanfiction #Tyler posey scenario

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what-lovely-scales-fandom · 5 years

Text

For the Sake of Clarification

There is a certain kind of clueless white person who thinks the new comics have implied that Sombra is not as intelligent and badass as she appeared in Infiltration, and that although she is smart and good with machines, she's also overconfident, careless, and predictable. To clarify for these clueless white people: No. Sombra is not an overconfident trickster playing way over her head. Sombra is not a "Smug Snake." Sombra is playing 5D chess every time she appears, and "Searching," the comic that clueless white people think shows her to be easily outmatched, is actually quite possibly her crowning moment.

Let me explain exactly how far off the "overconfident, easily-outplayed Sombra" idea really is. Let's take "Searching" beat by beat.

Start with Sombra's first actual appearance. She's teasing Zarya and Lynx-17, but what's important is her posture and her position. She's placed herself literally and figuratively above the other two, and she's sitting down, kicking her feet, doing nothing. She's waiting for them. She knew they were coming. She hacked Lynx back in Numbani, and she's not surrounded by snack wrappers, so she's known they were coming for a while and she knew exactly when they finally figured out where this safehouse was, i.e. she's been watching them during the days or weeks they were asking about her door-to-door. If she didn't want this confrontation, she would've slipped out invisibly as soon as they turned up and locked them inside behind her. Or she wouldn't have come back to this safehouse at all. It's not like there's anything irreplacable inside; Sombra blows it up at the end of the comic.

Step up a couple pages for a moment. I don't think Alejandra is helping Zarya because Sombra asked her to; she's too sincere and unsure for that. Rather, I think this is Sombra predicting her actions and using her as a pawn to bring Zarya to her while letting Zarya think it's her own choice. The fact that it takes so long for someone to turn her in is probably one of the only things that does not actually happen according to Sombra's plan in this comic; Sombra is used to being treated with suspicion or frustration, what with her love for being suspicious and frustrating, and the genuine love her hometown has for her and their refusal to give her up was almost a hitch in her plans. A small one, of course; Sombra would've found a way around it before long.

(Not that we can COMPLETELY rule out Alejandra telling Zarya where to go because Sombra asked her to. And it does strike me that they get a safehouse location, rather than waiting for her at the bakery. How does a baker's daughter get that kind of information? Although to be fair there's always the possibility that Sombra deliberately allowed herself to be seen entering and leaving the safehouse, or 'casually' mentioned it around the bakery.)

Back to the present. Sombra has lured Zarya and Lynx to her. Why? Not to kill them. Sombra may be smug and playful, but she's also a bully, and one of the essential traits of bullies is knowing when they can't beat someone. Zarya is a trained soldier; if Sombra wanted to kill her, she would do it as unfairly as possible. Either hack Lynx-17 to attack Zarya and clean up afterward, or set off an EMP (Zarya gets her ult after all), put a spray of bullets into the back of Zarya's head while her shield is down, and then finish the helpless Lynx. Or just lock them inside the safehouse and blow it up. Instead, she makes no attempt at stealth or dirty fighting; she's standing out in the open when the fight starts, she only shoots Zarya's shield, and she never tries to use Lynx against Zarya (Lynx who, again, she has already hacked).

And then her translocator comes out. Sombra tosses it in plain view of Zarya and Lynx-17 and uses it just seconds afterward. We know from Infiltration that Sombra has never been bound by the time limits that still existed when this comic was made; if she was trying to escape, she would have teleported to the translocator she definitely has set up in a safe place a few hundred meters away from the hot zone. "Always leave yourself a back door."

And she 'doesn't know' what Zarya's Graviton Surge is, even though she's been watching her for days or weeks and probably stole her dossier before that even. "If you hold the information, you hold all the cards." So she gets caught in the Graviton Surge, and Zarya has 'won.' Instead of trading bullets (er, and lasers. And explode-y balls...?), they can talk. And Sombra is so good at talking.

She reveals that Katya has been lying to Zarya, and that she's been meeting with omnics behind her back. And like everything else that happens in the comic, she does it in a way that doesn't look like her pulling strings. Zarya thinks she's found Sombra, not been lead to her. She thinks she's caught Sombra, not been manipulated into a cease-fire. And she thinks Sombra is laughing at her for not knowing Volskya's secrets... not deliberately revealing those secrets to her. Which breaks the trust between Katya Volskya, the most powerful 'friend' Sombra ever made, and Zarya, that woman's first choice to eliminate Sombra -- a dangerous enemy hamstringed.

And allows her the pseudo-truth that she hasn't lied to Zarya where Volskya has, to open inroads toward at least a temporary alliance with whoever Volskya picked as the most effective soldier in Russia, against The Conspiracy that is Sombra's primary target -- the groundwork laid to make a powerful ally.

And then, Sombra is actually ready to escape. Suddenly, Lynx is helpless, a timer is ticking down to an explosion -- and oh yes, we don't see Sombra leaving the building, with lends credence to my theory that she's had a translocator ready to pull her to safety this whole time. When Sombra has gotten what she wanted out of Zarya, the balance of power shifts so quickly I can best compare it to Black Widow's appearance at the beginning of the second Avengers movie. (And since we're assuming she has a translocator up, even if Zarya had decided she didn't believe any of this and simply went to snap Sombra's neck, she could've vanished right out of Zarya's hands. Which makes sense; Sombra isn't a woman to take unnecessary risks. Her whole playstyle is based around never getting in over her head without having a cheap and easy way out.)

Past that, there's Reyes's knowledge of her actions in "Infiltration" revealed in "Masquerade," but that isn't much of a hit if you look at it realistically. By this point, the only plausible explanation of Reyes's motivations -- what with the moment that ties him most directly to the Reaper persona before the Fall being when he resolves to destroy Talon by any means necessary -- is that he's infiltrating Talon to destroy it from the inside. That means that Gabriel Reyes A) is manipulating and fooling Doomfist, B) is still the man who did with a five-soldier strike team what literally the entire world's armies couldn't during the first Omnic Crisis, and therefore C) is basically the single most intelligent character in the game. On top of that, there's @segadores-y-soldados's theory that she's working directly with Reyes to take down Talon and his exposing her actions to Doomfist is all part of the plan, which is getting more and more evidence with every new piece of media we get. So either she was made by the smartest hero the verse is ever going to see, or she wasn't even that. Hardly a point for "overconfident, careless Sombra."

(The only thing that happens in "Searching" that does not directly benefit Sombra is Zarya learning her real name -- which, I will add, Alejandra has no way of knowing since Sombra would have gone into hiding when Alejandra was a child. I just want it on the record that Zarya had to actually dig for Sombra's real name and didn't just randomly stumble onto it from the first person who helped her, like I've actually seen some people say. And with Sombra's personality and complexity addiction, one of the many, many things we can rule as "unlikely, but not totally out there" is Sombra planting a fake 'real name' just to mess with Zarya. Assuming it is her real name -- a... mmmmmostly safe assumption -- it must have been hell to find it. The one person in the city willing to help was a tiny child when Olivia Colomar disappeared, and there's no information on any database in the world Sombra would've missed this long after her self-unpersoning. ...We don't actually get a timestamp for the night they attack Sombra's base, either. How long did it take them to get enough information together to feel confident moving against her?)

#Sombra #Overwatch #ow spoilers #Searching (OW)#Sombra is queen and I will have no one carelessly or maliciously misinterpreting her actions #I may be a gringo but I'm not a fucking gringo

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