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marslovesdaisies · 6 months

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Look what you made me do || P.SH

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Minors do not interact.

WC: 3.9 k

Pairing: Mafia!Seonghwa x Mafia!OC

Warnings: Death, murder, violence, gaslighting, manipulation, mafia themes, weapons, angst, gore, eventual smut.

A/N: This is not a single parent!au, rest assured.

Chapter 5

A child.

Hundreds of pictures of a young little girl lined up her phone's vault. It was encrypted, but they were still there. The kid became younger and younger the more I scrolled down to reach the end, and there was nothing else in it. Only the girl. Fuck. Every milestone was there, recorded forever. There were videos too, probably of her first step, her first words, and whatever shit parents liked to record of their children. Iseul was still sitting across me on the chair, pale faced and looking defeated. Her eyes were shining, and she was probably going to cry. She hadn't moved ever since Yeosang had come in. There was nothing else on the phone, he had confirmed. No wonder she didn't want to give her phone away.

I kept staring at the child, trying to look for any facial similarity between Iseul and her. There weren't any stark features, though I couldn't help but think about her eyes. I had seen those eyes. I turned to the stunning woman sitting in front of me, horrified beyond end. "Iseul, you have a child?"

Seonghwa kept staring at me. I didn't answer. I didn't want to. After a moment's pause it was Yeosang who spoke. "Well, I'll leave you both to it then. Remember you're supposed to be down in the meeting room in ten." The door shut behind us, heavy, expectant silence returning. I got up unsteadily as well, fully ready to follow the man out. Not two steps later my hand was wrenched back, legs hitting a small table. Glasses shook with the sheer force of the contact, rattling hard.

"Where do you think you're going?" Seonghwa stepped even closer, invading all the space in front of me and peering down into my face.

"The meeting room, as your boss told us to." "Like hell you are. Answer my question Iseul. Who's the father?" Anger blossomed into my chest, deep and burning. I pressed forward, almost snarling into his face. "That wasn't your question now, was it Park?" "Don't fuck with me right now Iseul. Answer the damn question." "What if I say yes? Huh, Park. What if I say yes? It's my child. I'm the mother. I gave birth to that little bundle of joy." I let it sink in, seeing his expression lose a lot of his anger. "But that isn't what you want to know, is it Park Seonghwa. Why don't you ask me your actual question? Go ahead, admit it. Say it out loud. Ask me what you really want to ask." I jabbed at his chest with my finger. "Ask me, or I won't tell." He quietly stared at me, not a muscle moving on his face. Then a very soft, uncharacteristically vulnerable sound from him. "Is...is she-" "Is she what, Park. Be loud. I can't hear you." His jaw clenched. "Is she mine?" I looked at his face. He looked so fragile and in pain, like he didn't want to hear the answer. "And what if she was?" His face lost all remaining colour. "Fuck, Iseul. Don't fucking kid arou-" "Shut up, Park." I snapped. He actually shut up. The Park Seonghwa actually listened. "What if I say she isn't?" His expression darkened, his grip on my hand tightening. "Don't lie to me Lin." I twisted my hand to shake his grip off, but he held on even more. "Hands off, Park." "Tell me the truth, Iseul. And be very mindful of what you're saying." "Because you won't like it? Can't bear the thought of me sleeping with someone else? Maybe I did. I fucked someone who wasn't you, while I was fucking you. How does it feel, Park? Knowing I opened my legs for someone else? Imagine me screaming their name-" He snarled. Actually snarled. "Shut the fuck up, Lin. Stop fucking talking." He grabbed me by both hands and shook me once, the small table hitting me below my knees as he did. I was heaving, my outburst leaving me without air. But I wanted to see his reaction. I wanted him to lose his cool. I wanted him to feel the terror. I peered at him, and then I laughed. Laughed at his face, his expression, his confusion that was now his main emotion.

"No, Park. She isn't yours. How lucky for you, huh?" "Iseul if you're lying I swear I'll find out and-" "-and then what? Ruin my life? Ruin someone else's life? Ruin her life?" "Don't test it, Iseul. What we had was simply a mutually beneficial arrangement. And it was you who broke it off, might I remind you. Three years later you bring a two year old girl who looks eerily similar so don't you dare be mad at me for thinking I was the father." "As if I'd have a child with you." I quipped. "And shut up, Park Seonghwa. The world doesn't revolve around you, as unbelievable as it may sound." "I'll ask this once. Who is the father, Lin?" "Why do you want to know?" "Just asking." "No thank you. She isn't yours, its one burden off your shoulders. It doesn't affect you in any way who it is, so drop it." "No." I seethed. "What the fuck is your problem, Seonghwa? I said she's not yours. You made it clear that we weren't anything more than and I quote, 'a mutually beneficial arrangement.' She does not concern you. So fucking leave it at that. Take my word for it that you aren't involved, it is someone else's problem. Now leave me alone. I have bigger problems than this." I breathed deeply, pausing my outburst. "Your biggest problem right now is me, princess. I suggest you don't forget that." And he was back to his cold, unforgiving persona. "Don't think that Hongjoong's fake hospitality will save you, Iseul. He isn't a giver." I jerked out of his hold, and this time he let me. "Suggestion duly noted." I massaged my hands a bit, applying pressure on all points that had suffered in the last few hours. He walked to the chair, picking up his suit jacket that he had dropped off earlier in one hand. I stood where I was, waiting for him to get ahead. Seonghwa had suddenly gone unusually quiet, taking quick steps across the long hall while fiddling with his phone. I walked behind him, lost in my own thoughts. There was a ping on his phone that made him pause. I took a step ahead of him outside when an arm suddenly pulled me back in.

"What the fuck, Park?" I yelped as I crashed into a solid chest, feeling the heat radiate off him. He twisted me back so I was facing him, and I was ready to go at him again when I caught his expression. His eyes had darkened, jaw set, face triumphant as he held his phone held in one hand.

"You aren't the mother, are you Iseul?" I took a step back as he walked closer to me, ready to bolt at any chance. "What?" He looked terrifying in his cold, merciless, beautiful smile that spanned his face. My hands tried to reach back, finding the door knob, my flight or fight response choosing the former. "I said, you aren't the mother of the child. She isn't mine, but she's not yours either, is she?" I froze. "Why would you think-" "Shh. Just shh." He whispered softly, his tone sending shivers down my spine. His breath caressed my neck as he walked closer and closer into me. "Don't talk, Iseul. Not right now." He breathed in a low tone as his lips crashed into mine, hands caging me completely as the sheer force made me go flat against the wall.

The meeting room Hongjoong had ordered us all into was more of a sitting room, sofas lining up in the center and similar chairs scattered in strategic positions. I walked behind Seonghwa. Neither of us had said a thing since leaving the chamber. I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my lips, which I was trying my hardest to forget. I had spent the walk here collecting and reorganizing myself, trying to think of a plan of action. Given my current state of mind and inability to look at Seonghwa after what had happened, it was safe to say that I was miserably failing in my attempts.

We had been the last ones to enter the room. Park hardly gave me a glance as he picked a spot, pointedly away from his boss. I claimed one as well, six sets of eyes on me. Seonghwa wasn't looking at me, and Kim Hongjoong was looking at his underboss.

"Where are we?"

"Still in the city, rest assured." A new yet familiar voice spoke up as Jaemin entered, glancing at his watch. "I apologize for being late, my lady." My lip curled. "Bang! You had me believe that you'd died in the hallway." Jaemin laughed. "Aah Lin. You don't give me enough credit. Remember what I told you back in the holding room?" I did. His warning hadn't left me, though things had changed a lot now. "Sure. So do you answer my questions today or...?" I froze, hoping nobody would notice. I turned my attention back to the eight. "Well?"

"How long before the twins are unleashed?" The little humour left my face. "Do you mean the twins, or do you mean my uncle?" The question about Daesung and Daewon had been asked by Yunho, meaning the others were also involved now. His face didn't change. "Isn't it the same?" No, it wasn't. But they didn't have to know that. "Depends. How long have I been here?" "You don't need to know that to answer the question, princess." "Watch it, Jeong. You're taking it too far." He stared back, one second. Two seconds. Three. "Answer his question, Lin. You can be out of here sooner." I looked at Seonghwa, who still hadn't said anything. "Alive?" I taunted. His muscle twitched, sign that he was indeed aware of what was happening. The twins hadn't probably been alerted yet. Especially since that dickhead Renjun was involved. He must've done something to delay their response. I cursed internally. That little shit had taken it too far. You are taking it too far, his voice echoed back. Maybe I was, who knew.

"Lin." This time it was Seonghwa. "You can do it the easier way by cooperating, or the hard way." He reached into his pocket, getting a flashdrive out. "This has all instances of your family and their men following my members. Proof and footage of your cousin discussing deals with port operators on our territory. One of your fuckbuddies picking up informants off the street. Footage of you trespassing on Lee's property, listed under sealed government zones. Do you want me to go on?" "What proof do you have that you haven't done the same?" I raised my brow. "Well, I am not the one caught red handed being in places I shouldn't be in." "He sent me an invitation." I shot back. "You forged it." "What? No why would I-". It all clicked in place for me in an instant. It all made sense now. Why those men outside the door yesterday hadn't been surprised to see me, the crispness of the text. Seonghwa had forged it all on my behalf, including the text. "You fucker-" I seethed. "You're blackmailing me. Surely that's an offense in everybody's book, regardless of which side you are on. And my only crime is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You can't hold me here for that. You don't have any proof against me." "Sure. Lets propose an exchange offer then. Tell your family to give up the culprit. I'll let you go in return for having the actual perpetrator in this chair." I almost blanched. Seonghwa knew he had got me. In no alternate reality was my family going to give up one of our own. He'd planned it all. It sounded ridiculous, even in my head. Who was going to propose a swap? If I was innocent, my family could demand retribution. But Hongjoong could simply use the flashdrive to demand other culprits, mainly Jun. I gripped the chair harder. Maybe I should give him up, he'd survive. I glanced back up. "How do I know that the drive isn't empty?" "Are you denying the contents then?" "That wasn't my question. What if it's a bluff from your side? I don't really trust you, given the circumstances." An emotion passed his face, quick to vanish underneath his mask. "It is filled, I can assure you. Getting proof of your lies is easier than you'd think, as you have already found out." I clenched my teeth. "I have years worth of material, Lin. You don't have the upper hand here." "We'll see about that." I muttered. But he was right, I was most likely stuck here. Especially with the proof attached, uncle and father both would be stuck trying to figure out how to deal with it. I couldn't concede more ground than we already had. "Why me then? You could've gone after anyone. You could've taken one of the twins, even both. You could've taken even Jun. Surely he's a more attractive catch than me." "Downplaying yourself, Lin?" My eyes turned to Wooyoung. "Woo, come on. You must know of all people that I am not involved. Tell your second-in-command here," I motioned at Seonghwa, "that he's grossly overestimating things here." Soenghwa's face twisted with malice. "Woo?" He turned to Wooyoung. "Come on Woo, tell me what she wants you to." Wooyoung gave him a blank look. "If you have something to say, out with it Hwa." Hongjoong still was looking at Seonghwa. They clearly weren't seeing eye to eye right now, but that was a fact I was going to exploit later.

"You didn't answer my question. Why pick me?" Seonghwa finally spoke to me, still not looking at his leader. "Do you remember the enchantress?" I shuddered at his question. "The broker? Of course. Who doesn't?" Seonghwa nodded. "How much do you know about her?" This was clearly a bait. "That she was guessed to be a woman. Apart from that, as much as the other person. Nobody knows much about her." I looked at Jaemin. His warnings had started to make a lot of sense. Fuck, I hadn't realized that the woman was involved in this. "What does she have to do with this?" "You already know, most of Jong In's confidence in himself came from the sheer amount of information he could obtain." It was true, but I waited for him to continue. "Well, his confidence grew with each passing day, and he made a gamble he could not sustain. He faced a lot of fallouts and had to give up some especially heavy leverage, breaching a lot of his contracts including yours and ours. Then there was the 'incident' with his son. But you already know all of this." I nodded slowly, seeing clearly where this was heading.

"Now, Iseul. " Seonghwa's voice deepened even further. He was almost growling at me, his face reflecting an unknown victory. Warning sirens played in my head like ominous music. "Your uncle decided it was adequate for the traitor to be tried for his dishonour. But he never managed to live till his judgement, did he?" I kept my face blank. "What are you implying? I did something? I can swear on my life that you had ordered a hit on Lee Jong In before I even found out where he was that night, Park Seonghwa. You wanted him dead, whatever the method might have been." He pursed his lips. An awkward silence had engulfed us, all of them giving surprised glances towards the man of the moment. It was however Jongho who spoke up, the youngest man having been silent the whole time I had been here. "How do you know that?" I didn't want to think about how I knew. Seonghwa and I knew each other years ago, under very different circumstances. I'd happened to overhear a phone call that he did not know about. However, I wasn't telling them that. "It is my job to know everything about a potential hostility." "Is that how you really found out?" Hongjoong sounded silently amused, his gaze occasionally darting back and forth towards Seonghwa and me. "What does the Enchantress have to do with this?" "Patience, princess. I was getting to that. Tell me, your uncle wanted Lee to be stripped of his credibility, a sort of character assassination. But someone from your upper ranks wanted it to be more brutal and final. Was that Renjun or you, and more importantly, why?"

I kept silent for a moment. This was no longer about me. "You have some balls, Park Seonghwa, for assuming for one fucking moment that I was going cooperate with you, proof or not." I hit back at him. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but I promise you this. I'll enjoy seeing you try to get answers out of me."

"You mean none of you went after him as an organization, but you took him out on your own."

San had spoken up. Of course he had. He must have been bidding his time, trying to find an opportunity to fuck me up at the worst possible moment. Now that he had started that line of questioning, Seonghwa would soon find out about Mirah. My hand started trembling slightly and I gripped it tight to stop it from showing. There was no doubt that Seonghwa had noticed it, along with the others. Thankfully, for the time being he didn't comment on it.

"As I was saying," Seonghwa continued, seemingly ignoring San's jab, "the Enchantress disappeared soon after Jong In did. Can't say I miss that demon, but the incidents are clearly related. Word on the street-" he pulled his sleeve down on his wrist in a theatrical manner. "-is that he was her last contract, after which she left. Or got killed. Whichever. Nobody knew how she looked like so it was even worse. But you, Iseul, you know who she was didn't you?" I was going to have a heart attack. Just how much resources had he spent spying on me? Nobody knew. Nobody could have betrayed me. But he wasn't yet done speaking. My stomach dropped. "But it is expected of you isn't it, Lin Iseul, as the third in command?"

"How long have you known?"

Seonghwa looked at me. "An answer for an answer." "Oh I'll give you an answer-" I half rose from my chair but Jaemin's hand gently but firmly pushed me back down. "I suggest you don't fight this one, my lady." I kept glaring at Seonghwa, who was smug and gleeful in this stature. There had been a few involuntary gasps when he first gave away my identity but all of them had recovered fairly quickly, now eyeing me as a threat instead of a prisoner. His taunting eyes had flames dancing in them, not taking his gaze off me.

"Let me get this straight, Park. You spent years worth of organization's resources tailing me, hunted down my methods, collected evidence for blackmail, forged a plan with a dead man to lure me into a trap, all because you couldn't be careful with your business in the first place, and right under your boss's nose? " I laughed. "Park Seonghwa, are you in love with me? I can see why you wanted to have this conversation alone. Getting all vulnerable, admitting mistakes, your ego could never."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you princess?" His voice brought back memories. Memories of him when he was a bit more kind. No, scratch that. He'd always been ruthless. He'd been kinder to me. Kinder and closer, but I had lost all of it when I'd lost Mirah. I pursed my lips at the memory of her, haunting images of broken skulls threatening to undo my composure. Seonghwa had walked closer to me while I was lost in my head. He picked up a spot and lounged on a chair, head thrown back. His neck muscles strained, the column of his throat exposed. He looked just as delicious as I last remembered him. I shook my head internally, realizing I was staring. He looked back up.

"But no, that is not why I took the efforts of dedicating so much time to you. I did it because you, my darling Iseul, went rogue." "Huh?" "Don't play dumb now. You went off the rails after the son died. You went after anyone and everyone at random, starting with Lee. You sabotaged deals under truce on your whims. Your father and uncle protected you, but that wasn't your greatest strength, was it? You had the Enchantress doing all your dirty work. Nobody else could get in and out of such situations without leaving a trace. And then the demoness disappeared. Most people still believe that the broker took one last stand before going down, but it wasn't her at all. It was you." He stared at his nails for a second before continuing. "Now, I'd like to believe that someone as smart as you wouldn't just forget her senses in a hotel room, so I did a bit of digging. And guess what, I found something very interesting." I think I had already dissociated from reality. I looked up at him, and for a moment I could see surprise lighting up in his eyes. Not being able to bear eye contact, I looked away again. Of course he had found out, and of course he'd be disclosing it. There was no point asking him to shut up.

"A buried report."

My world tilted on its axis. My stomach felt like it was upside down. Lee's son had died for that bundle of papers. I had died for that bundle of papers. Seonghwa had made a grave mistake. I was going to come at him, even if it cost me my life.

"A report that you spent a fortune making sure did not exist, along with the existence of the person who filed it. A report on the supposed car accident of one Cheon Mirah, declared dead on the way to the hospital." There was a sudden spike of another presence in the room. I knew who it might have been, though I just hoped that Wooyoung would manage to calm San down.

"Upon further enquiry, you made them declare her dead prematurely, while in actuality she had been alive for a few hours after the said time of death. Sadly, another woman had to die in the same night later on, but she didn't even exist, did she?"

Seonghwa moved towards me, getting a small bunch of papers from his jacket again. But he was interrupted in between, the copy of the file I supposed snatched from his hands by a seething Choi San. Pure, unadulterated fury marred his face as he read and reread every page in his hands. And then he looked at me.

"How, dare you." Was all he said before his gun was out in his hands, aimed straight at my head.

A/N: I'll edit this later. Happy reading!

#ateez fanfic #mafia ateez #park seonghwa #choi san #kim hongjoong #choi jongho #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader

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fvrxdrm · 3 years

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Through the Valley

Pairing: Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of violence, angst

Setting: Deadlock/Pre-Blackwatch/Pre-recall

Song: Through the Valley (Ellie’s cover)

*****

When the universe was formed, the world was sculpted with rocks, and when the world was sculpted with rocks, strange beings were brought down to earth, and when strange beings were brought down to earth, sins were born, and when sins were born, dissensions were brought to light, and when dissensions were brought to light, war had clouded the visions of many beings and humanity teared itself down, one by one, with metal blades and flying arrows, and evolving into something much more minacious and powerful…

…like a gun.

So much vigor, so much anger, so much power. With one pull of a trigger, one life could be led towards heaven or hell, with no chance of escaping a baneful bullet; piercing through the skin and tearing the flesh, embedding itself deep till the person dies losing blood or be lucky enough to survive such fatal shot.

An excellent marksman’s the only one capable of doing that.

Specifically, those who know their guns by heart.

They are precise. They are rigorous. And they make every shot count. They make sure the target receives the end of their blazing weapons, and they’ll do it again and again till they’re satisfied with the bloodshed they’ve created. Their eyes would gleam with red, and blood would boil deep within their veins.

Even with one shot, those who feel agony could be standing right in front of death’s door.

There’s this marksman though, a gunslinger who seems to have held a gun since his mother gave birth to him. His accuracy cannot be matched even by those whose experiences have passed through the roof. Even with a blindfold on he still knew where to point his revolver at. He was a shit-hot at what he was doing, as they say.

Deadeye is what they call him.

People believe that the Deadeye was a curse that was passed from his ancestors to their descendants, and he happens to be their newest successor, which means he was to hold the malediction whether he liked it or not.

Truth is, it isn’t a curse.

Born by pain and abandonment, he was forced to teach himself how to survive on his own at such a young age. He worked hard to feed himself with enough food to desist from dying from an empty stomach, he rode by rivers and looked out for cacti to give himself something to drink, and most importantly, he taught himself how to pull a trigger and defend himself from nasty foes with the use of a gun he likes to call…the Peacekeeper.

After so many years of living and surviving on his own, a gang who called themselves the Deadlock Rebels took him with them and dinned him on how to rob banks and stir up ruckus in villages and towns. He was happy to have found a family who he could rely himself on even with their twisted intentions, and for the first time in his entire life, he felt rapturous.

Every blood he spilled was a trophy to be held in his hands, every eye that widened in fear had the hunger lurking beneath consume him until he became the monster that he was, every bullet that flew with the speed of light had his teeth grinding together, and every word that spread around town had him grinning with sharpened fangs.

People see him as the devil himself, only softening what was left of his heart when a kiss was pressed against his vulgar lips.

His lover was pristine and innocent, an angel in contrast to the demon he turned himself into. She had bright eyes and a scintillating smile, a touch so gentle and feather-like, a voice so small and warm, and a forgiving heart nobody deserved to earn unless she allowed it to.

Folks have wondered how on earth had she given a killer a chance and had asked the same question over and over again, but she always replied with the same answer as well;

“He was orphaned by evil and war; always have, always will be. Someone as broken as him may not be fixed, but they deserve love just as much as those who have found their place in order to help find their purpose on earth again. There are paths in front of them to help guide them in life, and what surrounds them will give them a reason to stay in the path they’ve chosen.”

Some people agree, some people don’t. But at the end of the day, it’s her belief and children look up to her and admire the goodwill she possesses even though her trust was something to be worried about. She claims she knows what she’s doing and all the world hopes that she truly does.

The heart of his lover would burn at every bruise and every wound the young man would come home with, and every word of what his gang had done would send her heart palpitating in an almost irregular speed. She feared of what was to come, and she hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t end up like the folks who have met the end of Peacekeeper’s barrel.

Years have passed and the man grew into a more ruthless killer. He had a heart of stone but it never forgot the woman who have given him an aspiration better than what they had then. He was going to be head and shoulders above, he promised. Just not now. The devil on his shoulder was still pulling him underneath. And when the day the voices in his head have stopped screaming comes, he’ll find a better home for the two of them; one where they could raise a few children of their own and make love until the sun rises in the east.

But alas, the dreams he had hoped for came to an unfortunate close…

The Deadlocks had been ambushed by soldiers of Overwatch, slowly killing the only family he’s had and taking him and his lover in to probably rot for the rest of their lives. Blue had befogged his vision, but red had risen flames inside of him.

Bullets flew from his tongue the moment he was thrown into a room flooded in black with only a poor excuse of a light hanging above him. He sat impatient, fists clenching and unclenching in fear of what they might’ve done to his girl. She could’ve been suffering from a harrowing death and nobody gave him one last chance to say what must be said before her final moments, and that was enough to untether something wilder inside of him.

He was given two options: he would be thrown into jail and be left there to rot or be given a chance to walk in the right path and leave the wrong, change himself and the world for the better.

The commander had seen something in him: a potential. The woman was right when she said he was forced into a void full of nothing but anguish at such a young age, and pity was what he felt for the gunslinger.

The power he had with his gun was nothing Reyes had ever seen. He was one with Peacekeeper; both thriving to reach the heights with ardor and strength. It would a shame if his talent was just going to be thrown into waste. So, what better way to use it than with noble purpose?

He was right. The offer was better than to slowly sink into the fires of hell. But what’s the point of throwing his hat into the ring if the woman he loves was in the opposite side of the wall? What’s the point of it all if she wasn’t going to be the shoulder he could cry on? What made it even worse was the fact that he was just going to be stuck in a goddamn loop.

Maybe dreams were only meant to be dreams…

It seemed like the world gave him a certain fate; a fate where death was something that would haunt him like a ghost whenever he was in the firing line, a fate where shadows were to be seen in his line of sight, and possibly a fate where he becomes a weapon himself and shoot down those he cared for dearly. And it scared him. But, what choice did he have? He’d rather see the world again and again, even in its darkest times, than die pathetically in his cage.

“Good choice, kid. I think you both know why you were brought here on earth in the first place.”

'Cause I walk through the valley of the shadow of death And I fear no evil because I'm blind Oh, and I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul But I know when I die my soul is damned

Jesse sang with shaky breath, fingers trembling against tattered wood, before his hands rested loosely against his guitar and sighed into the warm night air.

“We’ll be alright,” his lover said. Her calloused fingers gently grasped his metallic one and smiled sadly at him.

They both wore rings, a symbol of the love they’ve treasured and every trial they’ve come across along the way. The vows they’ve exchanged gave them a reason to stay, a reason to fight again. It was a bittersweet surrender, but it was worth it.

“Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #overwatch x reader #overwatch #mccree x reader #mccree

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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years

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WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - Prologue (Vergil x Nero's Mother)

Summary: Turmoil has engulfed the small Island of Fortuna, shaken now more than ever by a never-ending civil war opposing the religious Order of the Sword to a group of rebels named the Guard of Sparda. As he tries to unveil his father's secret past and achieve some hidden dark purpose, Vergil crosses path with Elissa, a young lady whose thirst for vengeance and blood is as red as the dress she's wearing. He doesn't want to care and he especially doesn't want to get involved but you don't choose your fate in Fortuna. That's the story Nero is about to discover.

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda's past

Author’s note: This is one hell of an ambitious project I put myself into, but I hope you will follow me in this journey which is basically another fan fiction about Vergil and Nero's mother. Probably not the best (I've read some prreeety good ones) but one that should be (hopefully) different from what was previously posted.I worked a lot on this story, made a lot of research and used many artistic references that I catalogued at the end of each chapter for the curious ones among you. Since English is not my mother tongue, feel free to let me know if there's any grammar mistake or if some sentences don't make any sense. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

In twenty-five years, Aifric’s Alehouse hadn’t changed even just a tiny bit. Same hefty old furniture. Same mucky walls and filthy floor covered in layers of dry alcohol that stick your shoes to the wooden slats each time you take a step. Same lamentable drunkards in search of more alcohol to drown their sorrows in, their arms around women that would pretend to adore them for a night in exchange for a bit of money. And, now that Vergil dared breathe a little, same foul stench of humidity, staleness and sweat, typical of this kind of underground bars from the no-go areas of the Castle Town of Fortuna. And the music … Don’t let him think about the music. Never thought he would come back here one day. His firm gloved hand grabbed the backrest of a wobbly stool that scratched the old wooden floor with an unpleasant creak as he pulled it to sit on it, revealing his presence to the brown-skinned man sipping his beer in silence next to him, his defeated pockmarked face hidden under a thick dirty white cloak that hadn’t been washed in probably years and that had lost almost all its glorious golden embroideries. Vergil eyed at him for a second, the same way the Moor had eyed at him when, more than two decades ago, he had sit on this very same stool, his then young frame hidden under a cloak similar to his and yet less odorous, a young wanderer looking for stories and answers. Strange how things seems to move in circle. “You’re too late. You know that?” The man’s voice was thickly and hoarse, due to the long years of alcohol abuse and contempt towards the world, towards that silver-haired ghost back from a distant past but especially towards himself. “Twenty-five fucking years too late to be more precise.” He got no answer to that reproach, not a word, just a nod and a pregnant silence that made him scoff. But his laugh, once so hearty and alive, held today nothing but melancholy and despise. “But at least she was right. You did come back.” Vergil peeped at the man again from the corner of his icy blue eyes, longer this time, but still with that eternal impassibility he was known for, hiding his slight surprise and his judgemental thoughts he knew deep down he shouldn’t have. But the barfly next to him was nothing like the man he had met years ago. This man was just the broken shadow of the one everyone in Fortuna once called Adel the Honourable¹ , Captain of the Guard of Sparda. “What the fuck are you doing here … Vergil?” He spat on his name, literally, not caring about what the solemn Son of Sparda would think of him, would do to him. He spat to show him his disgust, his hatred, even though he knew that a bit of saliva wasn’t enough to show the extent of his feelings. “Where is she?” Vergil asked with a calm voice that made Adel grimace (that voice was as nasally and annoying as he remembered) and finally glare at him, allowing Vergil to see how the years and the pain had marked and scared his once-handsome face. “You got some nerve to ask that now.” “ I need to see her.”Adel firmly hit the counter with his empty glass before turning around to stare at Vergil, giving him a long disdainful look he thought he could only give himself. “Sure, I’ll bring you to her. But you might want to give me that damn sword of yours so that I shove it deep in your stone-cold heart first.” Vergil smirked. This was way too reminiscent of old foolish squabbles he once found very amusing … though quite pathetic and most of the time one-sided. “Why don’t you use that crossbow² of yours instead?” The taunt wasn’t meant to defy him if one could read through Vergil’s phlegmatic voice. But the Moor³ interpreted it that way and yet refused to react to it, knowing how vain it would be. “I don’t have it anymore.” Adel opened his cloak to reveal a leather sling with no weapon attached to it. “I don’t have anything anymore. And we know full well that it wouldn’t have done shit to you.” “Trust me, Adel. I know what it’s like to lose everything.” Was it an attempt at sounding

sympathetic? Probably. After all, Vergil still felt somewhat confused by the occasional waves of humanity surging up from inside of him. “Do you?” He laughed with bitterness, not believing him for one second. “Bullshit! And you know why? Cause you never had anything!” If Vergil took this as a personal attack he didn’t let his body show it, but he nevertheless let out one simple sentence, a boast he knew would displease the brown-skinned man, a display of his pride and superiority he always thought he had over that mere human. “I had her.” Quite expectedly, Adel jumped from his stool and before falling back against the bar, tried to grab Vergil by his blue collar. But it looked too pathetic and clumsy to be considered menacing or dangerous. “Fucking stop talking about her!” He pointed his finger at him in defiance while tears formed in his dull black eyes that had long lost their charming spark. “She fucking loved you! She loved you so damn much and you never cared, not a damn second. So don’t come to me with all your ceremony and shit, pretending you care now?” He sobbed loudly and wiped his eyes with his fists, a gesture that only made Vergil frown. How low had that man sunk! And how wrong he was. “Nero needs to know.” The silver-haired man finally said, not very willing to continue this conversation due to a growing lack of patience. “He needs to know about his mother.”There was a new brief silence that could only be filled with glasses clinking, noisy hubbub and prostitutes giggles. Both men gauged each other, wondering who should talk first and what to say after the name of the boy the woman they both loved had given birth to was brought into the discussion. “So you finally know.” The Moor finally said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How does it feel?” Vergil didn’t want to talk about his feelings, especially not with a man he hadn’t seen in years and that would be too eager to judge him. His feelings were his to ponder and only his. “My feelings are none of your concern.” The brevity of Vergil’s sentences was annoying to Adel who had almost forgotten how it was to have a conversation with the stoic Son of Sparda. And when some people would call it introversion he would call it self-importance, despicable self-importance. “Do you ever think of her?” New intended silence. But yes, there were times when Vergil did think of her because that’s what happens when someone as special as her shares even just a tiny bit of his life. He thought of her when he was at his best and when he was at his lowest. And he had been thinking of her even more lately, each time he would look at Nero or think of him, each time he would remember his journey in Fortuna. She was a part of his past he would never be able to cast away. But again, none of Adel’s business. “Look, you don’t need to talk to me about her. Just tell Nero. I bet you know how to find him.”Glad to finally leave, Vergil stood up and dusted his long dark coat he felt had been soiled by such a dirty place. But right after he turned around to walk away, his old acquaintance spoke again with disarming heartfelt honesty. “It feels like hell to me.” Vergil stopped and slightly looked back at him from the corner of his eyes, at his defeated look staring deep in his empty glass again. “Like fucking hell actually. Seeing that kid of yours growing up to be just like her but at the same time just like you right under my nose. That smug smirk he got from you on the lips he inherited from her. Everything about that child makes me want to vomit or plug my eyes out because that makes me realise all I lost, all I could have had if you had never stepped a foot in Fortuna. You took her away from me, away from everyone, and when you finally got out from my life, you dared leave behind you a living reminder of your victory over me to torture me for the rest of my miserable days.” Vergil stood still, withstanding the man’s rancour without batting an eyelash. “The fact you considered her love a victory maybe is the reason why you

never had her.” Vergil replied and before pushing the double-leaf door of the bar, waited for an instant as if he was expecting something to come in, but Adel was stubborn and not keen on accepting defeat. “You took her away from your son!” He shouted and smiled when Vergil froze again on his way out. “ If that’s true, go tell him that then.”

***

Nico was pissed. Nero could tell it by the way she was furiously trying to fix the neon blue sign of their van. But what could he do about it? It wasn’t his fault if a starving empusa had decided to snack on the E while Nico was parked waiting for her friend to come back from his demon ass kicking routine. “D vil May Cry” Nero read out loud with a pout. “I don’t know, Nico. Works for me.” And yet, he had a feeling being angry because of a damn light was just a pretext to let out some pent up frustration due to god knew what. “Really? Is that how you gonna treat your family heritage now?” The black-haired woman harrumphed, threatening to hit her friend with a monkey wrench. “Is that how you gonna treat my precious Minotaurus after all he did for ya? After he followed you right into that hellish ficus?” “Qliphoth.” He corrected with a smile. “Yeah whatever.” Nero had a brief laugh but eventually shrugged, not seeing the problem as he read the neon sign on the van again. “The E doesn’t light up anymore. So what? We still know it’s Devil May Cry.” “When your deadbeat dad tore your arm out from its socket, didn’t I give ya a new one?” Nero grumbled, not finding the comparison funny or admissible. “That’s not the same! You can’t compare my arm to a damn neon letter. I needed my arm!” “And Devil May Cry needs its E! So stop complainin’ and pass me the stillson.” She ordered as she kept on adjusting the colourful wires hidden in the dented bodywork of the van. Nero sighed but handed her the tool anyway. “I thought you were tired of being my pet mechanic.” “ I am but like I said, I can’t let you treat my baby like that.” And then, he dared say it. “Seriously. I thought you would be busy reading those new files you found in your father’s old stuff? You didn’t say anything about what they were.” And, as Nico dropped the wrench on the hood, he immediately knew he maybe shouldn’t have asked that. “Cause they were not interesting. Just pieces of diaries he wrote when he was young, explainin’ how he started working for the Order and why he didn’t want me or my mother in his life anymore.” Nero frowned, not believing Nico for an instant. Her sentence didn’t make any sense to him cause he was sure any child who had grown up without a parent would be even just a tiny bit interested in knowing who they were or what they did. He knew he was. God! What he would give to know even a just of small piece of information about his mother, about who she was, how she looked like. But unfortunately for him, the only person who had all the answers to his questions was never prompt to give them, acting more like a vault than a chatterbox. “And that doesn’t interest you? Raaah come on, Nico!” He clicked his tongue. “I’m interested in his work. Nothing else. I couldn’t care less about his adventure with that other chick which is FYI apparently one of the reason why that asshole left my mother and me.” “ You father left your mother for someone else?” Nico glared at Nero, catching a judgment in his voice that never was there. “ Well I least I know why my father left my mother… No, actually, I know my mum, period.” Nero hadn’t heard that kind of words in years but the burn was as painful as he remembered. How many times he had heard the kids in Fortuna disrespecting him, disrespecting his mother, claiming she was a prostitute⁴ from the ill repute places of Fortuna. How many horrors he had to listen to. And how many punches he had received, and given, because of them. “Damn! I’m sorry, Nero. I didn’t mean.” Nico declared, horrified by her unusual behaviour and by the sudden sadness Nero tried to conceal in his blue eyes. “Forget it. I’m used to it.” He gestured her to let go and went rummaging in the toolbox for no particular reason but to occupy his mind with something else. But Nico wasn’t willing to end their conversation like that, the feeling of guilt eating at her. “I’m sure your mother was someone fantastic, Nero.” She had a soft comforting smile.

“I mean, she had to be, you know … to stand your father.” Nero chuckled but there was still that hint of misery, that very particular misery he only felt when thinking of his mother. A mix of bitterness, void and love. “Maybe she never really had to stand him. Maybe she was … a prostitute like everybody said.” Nico frowned; refusing to believe Nero would go for such bullshit. Didn’t he know how close-minded and rumour-hungry the people in Fortuna were? “Nah, I don’t think so.” She declared as she funnily wrinkled her nose. “No money in the world would be enough to accept to spend a night with your dad. Your mother had to veeeery nice and patient and ooooh so in love with him.” Nero spared a glance at Nico, deeply moved by her attempt at comforting him and hoping she was right. “Damn, I beg that poor woman was a saint, ‘cause Vergil might look yummy to most people’s standards but he ain’t fun.” Her lips pinched together, she had a sort of deep serious frown that wrinkled her entire forehead, a somewhat amusing grimace Nero was sure was meant to emulate his father characteristic impenetrability. She kinda nailed it but … “ Did you just say my father looks yummy?” Nero asked, quite disgusted. A crush on Lady, that he could get, but on his father … It made him shiver and want to throw up. “Huh, to most people standards!” She repeating, clapping her hands between each syllables. “I’m not most people.” Nero’s eyes widened when he heard familiar slow and steady footsteps coming from behind the door of the garage. “I mean, do you really think I could feel even just a tiny bit attracted to ‘Power! I need more power!’?” She imitated with a cavernous voice and Nero tried not to laugh. But it wasn’t Nico’s new impersonation of Vergil that was making him want to do so. It was actually his father standing on top of the stairs, stoic and still like a marble statue staring impassibly at Nico making a fool of him. Maybe he should warn her of his presence. Yes, maybe he should. He timidly pointed at his father standing right behind her; still unsure he wanted this scene to stop. But he couldn’t wait to see Nico’s face when she would notice Vergil. And oh god, how priceless it was. Nico was an intrepid, loud and lovely person but when her dark eyes took a small glance of Vergil, she froze and cleared her throat, definitely uncomfortable and … yeah a tiny bit scared. “But it has its charm. You’ve got some charm. That’s undeniable.” She rectified, looking at Vergil who eventually nodded, a faint smile on his face that meant more ‘yeah right’ than ‘how funny’ in Vergil language. He didn’t find this funny at all. “Good evening to you too, Nicoletta. Nero.” He nodded once again, casting his aura of solemnity all over the garage. “Nico. Just Nico … nevermind.” Nico mumbled in a whisper that Vergil heard but chose to ignore. Nicknames were not his thing… They had never been his thing.He went down the stairs, his hand resting on the hilt of his precious Yamato as always and looked at the van with a new frown. “You two are busy working on some repairs, perhaps.” He asked in an effort to be as familial as possible, something that wasn’t his forte at all. It made the two friends exchange a curious glance. “ Yes … I mean, no, we were done.” Nero replied, wondering what his father was doing here. After all, unexpected visits were not in Vergil’s habits. “ No, we were not. Gotta fix that E, remember?” Nico tapped at the letter with insistence. �� “ That again?” The young man sighed. “Is Dante here?” That could explain Vergil’s presence in Fortuna. But as 90% of the time – or more – the Son of Sparda evicted an answer, changing the subject – or ignoring it – with a destabilizing yet infuriating indifference. “ Miss Goldstein is right, a E is important.” He spoke, his icy blue eyes looking towards a distant past, towards memories he held in his heart he was rediscovering more and more with each day spent with his family, with his son. “ Thank you! See, I told you!” Nico

shouted, proud to be right. “ What are you doing here?” Nero finally questioned, impatient to finally know the truth behind his father’s presence. “I was in Fortuna visiting an old acquaintance.” Vergil weighed his words with smoothness as he paced in the garage looking at his surroundings without no real interest in them. “ You … got acquaintances?” The slight frown of disbelief on Nero’s face made him suddenly look so much like his father but Vergil didn’t notice, too busy staring at the extinguished E that looked so dull surrounded by such neon blue lights when it should have shone as brightly as them if not more. “Hopefully, he should visit you soon.” “ Wait! What? Why?” Nero always saw his father as an impenetrable mystery, even when he was just V, but right now he couldn’t tolerate him being so evasive. “To give you the answers you want.” And he couldn’t not tolerate him being a stolid piece of shit either. “About my mother?” Or a mute one. But with Vergil, silence often meant a lot. “Hey! You can’t just leave me like that!” Nero caught his father’s right arm with a violent strength, a vision that stirred a new one, an old one, one Vergil regretted. “Plus, why would you send a stranger in my house to talk to me about my mother? Why don’t you do it yourself?” God! If she knew what he had done to their son. What would she say? What would she do? “Silence. I thought so. You don’t even have the courage to tell me her name so why should I expect more from you.” In his lifetime, only a few persons had been able to defeat Vergil, one of them being his son. So, after looking down at his boots for a second, he walked away, not keen on riling up Nero even more, not today.“Elissa.⁵” The name, left unpronounced for so many years, burnt Vergil's tongue when each blazing letter, probably angry to have been reduced to dormant embers for so long, managed to escape the barrier of his tight lips. But Vergil welcomed this fiery pain without blinking and even dared say it again, embracing the ignition once more with a soft melancholic smile. He was part demon. Fire couldn't hurt him. So why being afraid of it? “Your mother’s name was Elissa.” Plus there was no danger in saying her name, just liberation. It was a beautiful name, after all. And for a second, he felt like his young self again. “Now fix it, would you?” That E meant a lot to Vergil.

REFERENCES: ¹ Adel The Honourable: Adel is a Persian name derived from the Arabic عَدَلَ meaning "to act justly". I added the title "the Honourable" to reinforce the idea his character was made to be fair, honest and just. Adel also belongs to the House of Montefeltro, a name you will discover later. ² crossbow: I intended to give Adel a simple bow as it is the weapon of righteousness (ndlr: Robin Hood) but then I chose to give him a crossbow because I thought the addition of the word "cross" was giving a religious connotation that suited his character. The fact that he lost the weapon is of course meaningful. ³ The Moor: reference to Shakespeare's Othello. ⁴ claiming she was a prostitute: This idea of Nero's mother being a prostitute was directly taken from Devil May Cry: Deadly Fortune. In the novel, we learn that Nero was often bullied by the other kids claiming his mother was a whore. ⁵ Elissa: Elissa is the other name that was given to Dido, first queen of Carthage and lover of the demi-god Aeneas, in Virgil's Aeneid. Her name is composed of the Punic reflex of "El-" meaning "god", and "‐issa" that means "fire", hence why her name burns Vergil's lips when he says it. Her name carrying the word "fire" also echoes the red colour of her dress and her hair as well as her affiliation to the House of Minos you will read about later. In a nutshell, this girl is on fire! ;-)

#devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil #nero's mother #vergil x nero's mother #vergil fanfiction

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secret-rendezvous1d · 3 years

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“you did what?”

hello, hi!

surprise, i guess? haha. i’m struggling to sleep so i’m letting my imagination run a little wild on google docs and i gained a little inspiration from an episode i’ve just watched of criminal minds and this came out. a little fluff in the workplace. a huge contrast to the previously posted story, full of smut, which you will find linked here.

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

“you did what?” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 1.5k

* if you haven’t watched criminal minds then this does contain some spoilers to the show that you may want to dodge if you are thinking of starting the series up. *

summary; when the bau arrive home from a case, spencer has something exciting to tell yn.

As soon as YN had gotten word of the jet touching ground, the time around her seemed to slow down.

All she wanted was to see her boyfriend after a long day of doing nothing around the office. Having been injured in the field during their last case, with a gunshot wound to her right shoulder, YN had been given strict orders to stay away from any activity until her arm had almost completely healed. Hotch made sure she wasn’t placed actively on a case, using the help of Garcia to keep her grounded in Virginia whilst they flew across the borders, making it clear that she would still be on some use when she wasn’t with them in person. Something Spencer could agree one and was adamant that she followed orders because, even though they were vulnerable to any kind of violence and injury when working a case with a dangerous unknown subject and there was always a likelihood of getting seriously injured or caught in a predicament that caused onsight panic, it scared him to see her get hit in a crossfire. If he had it his way, he’d have requested that they both took their holiday leave so he could help her back to health at home - but he knew, deep down, it wasn’t necessary.

The ding of the elevator was enough to calm the butterflies in her belly.

Morgan was the first to leave the confined space and gave YN a side-hug, being careful not to jolt her arm with his sudden movement, before he rushed away and disappeared round the corner. Hotch gave her warming and welcoming smile and a subtle nod, which she returned in his favour, and she watched him walk into the unit whilst undoing the button of his sui jacket and carrying his briefcase in his free hand. Blake had given her uninjured shoulder a squeeze on the way passed with a knowing look in her eye, a twitch in her eyebrow directed behind her and had YN looking at the elevator. JJ and Spencer were the last to leave the elevator, deep in a conversation with Rossi, that YN could only work out was his time in the marines from the way he was talking to passionately.

“Hey, you. You’ll never guess what your boy wonder did today,” JJ grinned, squeezing YN into a gentle hug before releasing her, allowing Rossi to come along and show his appreciation of his welcome by squeezing her elbows. Squeezing one a little softer than the other to not add injury to an existing one, “genius here delivered a baby.”

And with that, the two of them had left Spencer and her alone in the hallway.

“You did what?”

YN stood stunned in her place, barely able to move any part of her body nor close her mouth that had gawped open in surprise, watching and feeling him step closer to her. His tattered trainers squeaking on the tiled floor beneath him with each step he took in her direction, his eyes never leaving the sling that her arm had been tucked into for the last few days, guilt sinking to the bottom of his gut because he probably could have prevented her from being in the pain she was in by simply following her when she disappeared to check a room and spooked the unsub who had been hiding. His body stopped before her, almost awkwardly and like they hadn’t been dating for almost 6 years, almost like they were new to a workplace romance and didn’t want anyone to see them so soft towards each other.

“Yeah, I- uh,” he blushed softly and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, something YN had found out to be one of the tics that showed up when he felt a little under pressure and anxious over a situation, “I delivered a baby.”

“You- you helped a woman give birth? In the field? A baby?”

YN had a million questions running through her mind; how the hell did he end up in a situation where he had to help a victim give birth to a baby? How was it safe enough for a woman to be giving birth if she was surrounded by police cars and police units and weapons all around with a dangerous unsub so close to the scene? Why did he decide he was the best one in the team to become a temporary midwife for the moment? When did he learn so much about labour and delivery?

She wished she had been there to watch as Spencer took control of the situation whilst keeping everyone in and around the scene calm and collected, a slight sense of panic in every word he spoke and every action he played, his mind tunnel-visioned on making sure the baby came out healthy and crying for the touch of its warm and nurturing mother. His calming tone being of good use, letting his hand go through the abuse of a woman taking her pain out on squeezing through her contractions, not letting anything get too out of control so that the baby was born into a room that had only, minutes before, been a scene that no baby should have been brought into.

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I helped a woman give birth to a baby out in the field,” he repeated, his arm falling down to his side, the leather strap of his go-bag slipping down to his elbow, something he corrected and hoisting it back up onto his shoulder, slipping it over his neck to keep it in a more secure place around his body, “something my eidetic memory will had trouble forgetting.”

YN snorted and rolled her eyes, stepping forward and wrapping her free arm around his waist, welcoming him home with a warm hug and a little intimacy that had gone missing over the last few days; he’d been on a case and YN had been the one left behind to work alongside Garcia on the computers, for obvious reasons. A time she took advantage of and used to complete files with deadlines she had missed because they piled up on the corner of her desk and almost towered her standing figure, that she couldn’t do as quickly as she could with two working arms.

“I read a lot of books about labour and delivery when JJ was pregnant with Henry. You know, just in case she went into labour somewhere where we couldn’t get her to a hospital in time. We needed someone on the team who knew what they were doing so she was doing it correctly,” he explained, arms tight around her waist and a kiss pressed to her forehead after he had concluded his sentence, inhaling the scent of her hair that hadn’t been used with the shampoo that held her usual scent - it was his shampoo and he’d know that scent anywhere and every now and then, keeping it hidden from Spencer, she liked to used his soap and his shampoo to smell like him because she missed his presence around her. “I’d like to think I’d get a job as a midwife almost instantly now. I have experience.”

“At least we’ll be prepared if we ever had to go through it personally,” she hummed, looking up at him and resting her chin upon his chest, his neck craning back so he could press a kiss to her lips and shake his head with a smile. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion though so she was unsure of how he truly felt on the subject of having children. Her fingers dug underneath the hem of his buttoned shirt, fingertips touching the naked skin of his hip, forefinger drawing circles into the soft flesh beneath, “what? We might have a baby and the story of daddy delivering them would definitely be one to tell at Christmas time when they’re all-.”

“We will,” he interrupted, squeezing her hips before releasing her body from his hold, “we will have a baby. I’m not even going to doubt that.”

Not yet, of course.

They had perfect jobs that they loved to be actively involved in, they had a life they were enjoying as just the two of them, they had an single-bed apartment that didn’t feel like a good fit for raising a baby, and they didn’t feel they had enough life experience to even think about trying for a baby. They may have been dating for six years but, in the last two, they’d only just learnt to live with one another, figuratively and literally.

“A baby?” Garcia gasped loudly from behind the two of them, a shocked yet excited expression written all across her face, coffee dribbling down the side of her coffee mug and droplets landing on the floor beside her feet, dressed in the brightest pair of pink high heels she could find in her wardrobe. “Are you guys-”

“No,” YN blurted out, and turned around at her sudden presence, shaking her head quickly with a giggle, “no, we’re not pregnant. Garcia, we’re not.”

“Damn it,” she frowned, her body sinking closer to the floor in dismay, “I was hoping for a new godchild to spoil.”

“One day,” Spencer smiled, dipping his head down and hiding the smile within the fuzz of YN’s air that had become a little messy over the stress of the day, “one day, Garcia. One day.”

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the-hopeless-haze · 3 years

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Oh, My Precious Whore

A/N: didn’t really think I’d ever be posting fic on here again… but I am tired and need a distraction so… have this as a treat

Pairing: Claire Underwood x f!reader, implied Duncan Shepherd x f!reader

CW: derogatory pet names, implied smut (will not occur in full until the next part)

Description: idk this is just pure filth bc there’s a severe lack of f!reader fic and… Robin Wright is hot af. Also had to throw in some Duncan in there bc I love Cody Fern

Maybe you should feel worse right now about what you’re doing, but you don’t.

You, at the very least, should feel scared. The Underwoods, or well, Underwood... she was a powerful woman and if you stepped a millimeter out of place your life was likely in danger. Or so they said. Your in-laws were wary of her, you know, but she was wary of them, too. You think. She’s a difficult woman to read.

The rumors concerning the crimes her late husband supposedly committed are lengthy and convoluted, but you suspect they hold some truth to them. Most rumors usually aren’t based totally in fiction. Her husband was truly a ruthless motherfucker. Claire... Claire doesn’t seem to be ruthless. Nor does she seem to be what you would describe as a motherfucker.

No, she’s a cold hearted bitch. A bitter, sociopathic cunt.

But you never wanted what was good for you.

Sometimes, you swear you love Duncan and you wish it was easier to convince yourself. He a good husband, all things considered. Perhaps a little too focused on work, but... he treats you well to make up for it. He is loyal to a fault, if anyone ever was. You met him through a friend, and though it makes you feel guilty you used him in a vain attempt to get closer to Annette.

But Annette didn’t swing your way, as she told you in not so many words. Or, rather, she said, “Just be a good pet and marry my son. You on his arm will do well for everyone all around. Your dalliances on the side are no one’s business as long as you keep them secret enough that not even Duncan finds out.”

So you agreed, and accepted his proposal you figured she no doubt hounded him into. It’s not so much that you don’t like men, you do, and Duncan is such an attractive man, and he’s a thorough lover... it’s just you suppose you have a preference for women. Older women. You used to joke in high school that you wanted to be a high-end escort for rich older women getting away from their CEO husbands for the weekend.

But your parents would have never approved of that plan. So you went to law school instead. Which was fine. You make decent money without Duncan, but with him you’re somewhat of a young, hot power couple. You’re not really interested in policy the way his family is - you just like ingratiating yourself amongst these people with influence. You get off on brushing shoulders with the powerful. Parties don’t mean much to you. Everyone is truly an evil son of a bitch, no matter what they say when the cameras are on. No one cares about progress, not unless it’s self-serving.

The first time you met Claire, you thought you might die. She barely gave Duncan a second glance but you? She stood and chatted with you about your latest case your firm had taken - how she knew about it among all the other things on her mind, you don’t know - but it was a pleasant conversation, all things considered. You know her and Annette used to be close. You wonder how much Claire does know about you.

You know you can’t trust her. At all.

But after that incident, Duncan grinned and shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to give credence to those rumors. She might have it out for you.”

“Rumors?” You asked, panicking already. Did he know?

“That Claire is a lesbian. It’s been floating around some circles, that that’s why she wasn’t truly upset at her husband’s death, that that’s why she’s pushing so hard for female rights. It’s interesting. It is the first time I met her, but having done so it wouldn’t entirely surprise me.”

You can tell. That woman probably isn’t a lesbian, or if she is, she’s very good at utilizing her charm to make it seem as though she’s not. If anything, you’d peg her as asexual. She uses sex as a weapon. Fair enough. You’ve seen even weaker women feel the need to use it.

You wonder if she’s ever had sex purely for herself and not for manipulation purposes.

You wonder if she could even do that. You reckon you don’t really care if you found out the hard way.

It’s a few weeks later that you receive a message stating the President required your audience. And you know you should tell Annette, or Duncan at the very least, but you don’t. You know you shouldn’t show up at all. But Annette said to keep your dalliances secret. So secret they will stay.

“How loyal are you to the Shepherds?” Claire asks when you arrive. Straight to the point. Good.

“As loyal as I have to appear,” you tell her.

Claire smiles a little. “Why did you marry Duncan? He doesn’t seem quite your type.”

“And what do you presume my type is?”

“Perhaps more feminine. Older.”

“Mm. And what is your type, Ms President?”

“Why did you marry him? Did Annette threaten to out you?” she repeats.

“Not in so many words,” you say.

“Hmm. Interesting. He has no idea, I presume?”

“Why did you call me here?” you ask, your anxiety getting the better of you.

“I need information on the Shepherds. And I believe I have something you’d want in return.”

Your head starts spinning, but no, spinning is an understatement. It’s fucking doing somersaults. You cannot believe what she’s proposing.

“You want to prostitute yourself to me for information?”

And Claire does the last thing you ever expected the bitch to do. She walks across the room and slaps you across the face. Hard enough to sting, but not as hard as you bet she could. You feel the cold metal of her wedding ring press against your cheek as she grabs your chin, her cold blue eyes piercing through to your soul. “Don’t you dare fucking accuse the president of the United States of debasement, and don’t ever assume you have the upper hand.”

“Claire—“

“Are we on first name basis, slut?” she asks, her hand slithering down to your throat. Holy shit, you think. This bitch might actually fucking kill me. You think you’d care more if this wasn’t possibly the hottest thing that ever happened to you. “I didn’t think so. Now. What are your loyalties? Who are you closest to?”

“Duncan, obviously. Annette lets her guard down around me because she likes that I think she’s hot, but she still doesn’t like me. Bill and I don’t get along.”

“Interesting. How much does Duncan know?”

“I know more than Duncan.”

“Really, now? Are you just saying that? Because if you don’t prove to be useful...”

“What? You’ll kill me?”

Claire laughs. “No, you’re much more fun to me alive. But tell me… do you know where Duncan came from?”

“I mean, I truly don’t know how Annette’s cunt could birth anything, given how much of a bitch she is, but…”

Claire smiles. “Yes. Much more fun alive. Duncan is not her child.”

“Well, that’s a relief I don’t have any chance of keeping the Shepherd bloodline alive,” you snicker. “Where did he come from, then?”

“I’ll tell you… in time. But you have to tell him, too. In front of Annette and Bill. I want them all to know.”

“They’ll skin me alive if they knew I was here.”

“Do you want to fuck me or not? These are my terms.”

“So that is why I’m here?”

She only smirks at you, the wrinkles around her blue eyes crinkling as she does. “Your attraction to me is far more interesting than... well, men are pigs, right? I’m sure you are well aware. But you, you look at me like you want to fuck me, sure, but you also know your place. You respect me, even if you try to talk back. Men don’t know any better.”

“Have you ever slept with a woman before?”

She only smiles. “Does it matter?”

“Just wanted to know if there was credence to the rumors.”

“Rumors? You’re quite bold. I’m the one with my hand...wrapped around your throat.”

“It’d be pretty messy for you if you killed me right now,” you retort, wincing and rubbing your legs together as she increases the pressure on your neck.

“You’ll learn not to talk back, whore. To think you’re a married woman...”

“Yeah? Did you hold your marriage sacrosanct?”

There’s that smile again. She’s beautiful, ethereal, but there’s something so inhumane about the way her lips move upward to smirk at you. Maybe you should learn to shut your mouth, but you always were a brat. Besides, it’s more fun this way.

“I did.”

“Liar,” you accuse, smirking at her as you do, and she lets go of your throat and before you can miss the feeling too much she slaps your face again, the right cheek this time, much harder than the first time. You let out a startled, strangled moan on impulse, stumbling back a little against the wall.

“Oh, did that hurt?” she coos at you condescendingly, fixing a piece of your hair that fell out of place as you stand back up, pressing your back flat against the wall for stability. Claire crosses her arms and stands directly in front of you.

“I can take it. I can take more than that,” you say boldly.

“Oh? What else do you like, slut?”

“You name it, I’m game.”

“Anything? Handcuffs? Whips? Knives?”

You nod at everything she comes up with. Jesus, you would let this woman carve out your heart if she wanted it.

“If I make you bleed?”

“Better.”

“Interesting. Does Duncan play these little games with you?”

You laugh. “No.”

“You only want a woman to do these things to you?”

“Precisely. Are you kinky, Madam President?”

“Whatever my partner requires... I make certain I provide.”

“But what do you want?”

“I’m a hard woman to please.”

“Oh. Is that the kind way of saying Frank wasn’t good in bed?” you ask, feigning sympathy. She only smirks again. “I’m surprised you didn’t slap me for that. He must have really been awful.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Women do everything better,” you laugh, earning perhaps the only genuine smile you’ve gotten from this woman the whole time. “That’s why I wanted to know if you’ve been with a woman...”

“No. But I’ve thought about it. Never had a woman as interested as you.”

“I find that very hard to believe. Maybe you just never noticed. What gave it away?” You’re aching for her to touch you again, give you anything, even pain, but she stands still in front of you.

“I can just tell. Besides, I was interested to meet you. You’re the Shepherd’s weak link. I knew Annette didn’t vet you carefully enough.”

“Are you saying me being gay is an issue?”

“Are you so naive to think it wouldn’t be, given the state of this country?” she retorts. “But that’s not all. I can tell you don’t like them. I could tell you were easy... on more than one account.”

You roll your eyes. “I fucking hate Bill. I mean it’s awful to say, he’s not doing well physically, but he’s just made life a living hell for me.”

“Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“I don’t know. Maybe he hates gay people. Maybe he hates women. Both. Don’t know.”

“So everyone knows but Duncan? Funny how he’s kept out of all the good family secrets that concern him.”

You sigh. “See, sexuality’s a funny thing. I like Duncan. I do. And sometimes sex with him is good if not great. He’s a good partner. But I just prefer women.”

“Must be nice to have it figured out. Your generation did have it easier.”

You look at her questioningly. You never thought someone like her was human enough to struggle with such a thing, but perhaps that’s an unfair assessment.

Or she’s playing you.

Still. She’d have to be quite a good player - not that you should underestimate her skill - to talk about something as personal as her struggles with sexuality. Straight people just don’t get it. Would she really be this easily well versed if it was a game?

“There’s still a long ways to go,” you say.

“I intend to rectify that.”

“Of course you do.”

Her eyes narrow at you and she tilts her head. “Do you think I should be doing better?”

“Yeah. Come out, for starters.”

“Says the woman in a sham marriage.”

“It’s not a sham. I love Duncan,” you protest.

“Then why are you here, selling out his family just for a chance to fuck me? You’re not much better than I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve told you anything yet. Besides. It’s not his real family… as you say.”

“No. You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know. But I haven’t fucked you yet either, have I?”

“Touché.”

“Come over here,” she beckons, leaning against the desk and once again it strikes you where you are - the fucking Oval Office. Are you seriously going to have sex in the Oval Office? Conservatives would be disgusted by this (although it wouldn’t be the first time this office was defiled). “Don’t look so scared now. You can’t back out at this point.”

You nod, trying not to look as nervous as you feel and walk the few steps over to her, your legs inches from hers. God, you’re practically dying from the anticipation alone.

“Does Duncan ever tell you how beautiful you are?” She asks. You’re absolutely shellshocked. There’s no trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Sometimes,” you murmur.

“Just like men to not appreciate what they have.”

“Mm. Frank didn’t appreciate you, Claire? Didn’t make you feel good? I would. If you were my wife I’d make you come every fucking day,” you say, and boldly you decide to punctuate that statement by pressing your lips to hers.

Mistake. Or maybe not, you don’t know.

Her hands tangle in your hair and you feel her stand up, press against you firmly before backing you into the desk, pushing you onto it until your back is flat on the wood, and she’s hovering over you, her lips ghosting yours.

“I’m a hard woman to please,” she reiterates and you realize she never fucking lost her breath while you feel like the wind was knocked out of you. “I’m ambivalent about attention in general. But look at you, whore. You crave it, don’t you? Just want someone to tell you that you’re a good girl... oh, look at you squeeze your thighs together. Are you wet for me, slut?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You ask, spreading your legs slightly for her.

She shakes her head, her straight platinum locks shifting as she does so, brushing against your face. “See? You’re not a good girl. You’re a dirty filthy whore and you just don’t know when to shut that whore mouth or close your fucking legs.”

You stay silent - you’re not sure what to do now. Do you antagonize her, push her further, see if it will rile her up again? Or do you try and kiss her again?

Claire has other ideas. “Beg,” she hisses in your ear. “Get down on your knees and beg for me.”

—- and I am evil and ending it there! Plz let me know if I should continue this!

#claire underwood #Claire Underwood x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x you #Claire Underwood x you #duncan shepherd x reader #house of cards #hoc #wlw smut #wlw fic #robin wright

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spaceshipkat · 3 years

Text

part 4 of my ac0sf recap will cover chapters 61 - 80 (the end)

part 1 covering the intro - chapter 20 can be found here

part 2 covering chapters 21 - 40 can be found here

part 3 covering chapters 41 - 60 can be found here

chapter 61: one test remains, one Nesta gave herself, so she runs down the 10,000 steps. Nesta and Cassian are either fucking or “lovemaking” and they alternate bedrooms. she gets down to the bottom step and opens the door, but she feels herself drawn back into the house, not into the city. a Starfall party is gonna happen in the house that night. Cassian is waiting for her at the top of the stairs dressed in his “courtly finery” and they kiss. he tells her the party already started but is “nearing its peak”. Nesta watches the stars fall and cries from the beauty of it. Viviane is pregnant. Nesta laughs and Amren says it’s not a sound she ever expected to hear from her. Nesta falls to one knee, bows her head, and tells Amren she’s sorry and Amren is surprised. Nesta says more and finishes with “losing your friendship is a loss I can’t endure” and Amren smiles, and tells Nesta that Nesta made the house sing with happiness, and it turns out Nesta Made the house. here’s the caption and ending of the chapter.

chapter 62: spring arrives. they’ve gone months without an attack from Briallyn, but Cassian warns that most armies don’t attack in winter. a “rare red star” (that we know is alien from k0a) shoots across the sky and riceman seems “unusually contemplative” in the aftermath. faerug is two months from giving birth. Cassian and Azriel continue to train Nesta and co as a unit, and she wonders if she’ll ever actually face combat. the Blood Rite is only a few days away. Eris sends a letter to Cassian and Nesta that they need to meet. they find him in a forest clearing in the Middle, though Nesta is distracted by the mountain aka the UtM mountain. Eris asks if she’s ever seen it and she says no. they talk about the three mountains (Ramiel, the UtM mountain, and the one that holds the Prison) and Eris says why no one ever wondered if there was something carved beneath Ramiel the way there is the other two mountains. no one knows who carved the palace/court that Amarantha lived in UtM, but it wasn’t Amarantha. Eris says this:

“My father went to the continent again last week. He came back seeming normal, without the glassy-eyed aloofness my soldiers displayed. He did not invite me to accompany him, or explain what he discussed with Briallyn. I can only assume the fallout is approaching, though, and wanted to warn you. It was not something I could risk putting in writing. But for now…for now, it seems as if the world is holding its breath.”

chapter 62 continued: the world is evidently waiting for Nesta to find the Harp. Nesta blinks in surprise, realizes too late that they haven’t told Eris they have the Harp, but he sees that and guesses correctly. Cassian asks if it matters and Eris says yes bc the Night Court now possesses two items from the Trove. Eris asks if this is what the delays have all been about, the NC biding their time to learn the Trove’s secrets and use them for their own gain. Nesta asks what they possibly have to gain, and Eris counters with what did Hybern have to gain by getting the Cauldron. Cassian says they have no interest in conquest and they aren’t going to use the Trove, to which Eris laughs and says he’s not comfortable with the NC having 2/3 of the Trove and other Made items, to which Nesta stiffens but Cassian says that riceman has his own plans and Eris can’t possibly think that he’d tell Eris all of them but assures him they don’t involve using the Trove. Nesta gets horny over Cassian’s smooth courtier’s voice. Eris says he assumes they’re going after the Crown now and Cassian says they’ll tell him what he needs to know and try not to forget to do so this time. Eris carries the Made dagger on his belt and says that they’d be stupid to go after Briallyn directly. Eris asks what they’ll do when they have all three Trove items and points out they can’t destroy them and hiding them probably wouldn’t work. Cassian asks what he’s going to do to stop them. Eris says that if they fail to get the Crown, they risk Briallyn using it against them, that she could make them expose everything, and repeats that they should not go after the Crown. Cassian says we’ll see and implies the Made items can protect them against the Crown. they kind of undo everything they did at the ball but don’t seem concerned by it. Cassian and Nesta fly away and Nesta says he did well and Cassian says he pretended he was Nesta. they fly for hours and then land on a bridge over the Sidra and Cassian says he thought they would walk a while, holding hands. Nesta asks what Cassian thinks Eris will do, and he says sulk and then think of a new way to insult Cassian. she says that Cassian playing courtier gave her some ideas, and he says it did the same to him. he kisses her and she says people are looking and he says he doesn’t care, he wants them to know they share a bed. Nesta asks if it undermines her rep as a warrior to be seen with him, and he counters with does it do the same for faerug when she’s with riceman, and Nesta says it’s different for them bc they’re mates. Nesta seems to know what Cassian is gonna say and isn’t surprised when he implies they’re mates, and he says that she doesn’t want to be, and she says that the word doesn’t really hold any meaning with her. he asks why she’s frightened, and she says she isn’t, and he asked if being seen with him spooked her, and she doesn’t answer. here’s the excerpt. Emerie is at her kitchen table when Nesta arrives, Mor having winnowed Nesta there. Nesta makes it two steps into Emerie’s shop before she starts to cry, and Emerie helps her into a chair and listens as Nesta tells her everything that happened. a knock sounds on the door an hour later and Gwyn comes in to hug Nesta, brought by Mor, who nods at Nesta and winnows away. Emerie says she’s surprised Gwyn left the library and Gwyn says that some things are more important than fear. Nesta spends the night at Emerie’s house and decides she’ll talk to Cassian tomorrow and explain everything. Nesta wakes to “a male scent” in her room that isn’t Cassian, Azriel, or riceman. down the hall, Gwyn screams and goes silent. she tries to reach for her power, but they knock her out.

chapter 63: as per the bargain, Cassian waits until the next day to look for Nesta (and doesn’t seem upset by the bargain at all), asking riceman to winnow him up to Emerie’s shop. before they even enter it, though, riceman knows they’re not here, and the magic that was there is too strong to belong to an Illyrian except on one night when Illyrians possess an “ancient, wild power”. there are signs of a struggle. riceman says that Devlon just confirmed that the Blood Rite began at midnight. Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie were kidnapped to participate in it.

chapter 64: Nesta wakes up and feels a lot of pain. she looks around and finds male Illyrians around her with wings bound (as per the Blood Rite requirements). she realizes she woke before the others bc she’s Made and therefore different. her magic isn’t there bc of the Blood Rite’s spells. she knows she’s in a lot of danger bc she’s a woman in just a nightgown. she knows she needs to find Emerie and Gwyn. a male Illyrian wakes up and looks like he wants to rape her and then notices a knife embedded in a nearby tree. Nesta runs. Cassian asks to be winnowed to them so he can save them, but his family is against it and riceman tells Cassian to explain to faerug why: anyone who takes someone from the Blood Rite will be executed, as will the person taken from the Rite. Azriel says that his spies informed him Eris has been captured by Briallyn. Cassian and Azriel have to go after him bc riceman can’t risk it and explains the suicide pact. Cassian says they should let him die and faerug says they can’t bc he could reveal everything under the Crown’s control, and asks what he knows and Cassian explains what it is, and faerug wonders if the Made dagger will offer some immunity against the Crown. while Azriel and Cassian go, Amren says that she’s going to have a long talk about the bargain bw fey///sand to fey///sand. back in Nesta’s POV, she’s running for the knife in the tree but the Illyrian rams into her and then they both go tumbling down into a streambed a hundred feet below. turns out she stabbed him in the throat while they fell and he’s dead. she takes his clothes, puts them on, and pulls the knife free before leaving to find Emerie and Gwyn.

chapter 65: Cassian once told Nesta about the three sites where participants of the Rite are placed. Nesta isn’t sure where to find Gwyn and Emerie and remembers that Cassian won’t be able to come for her bc of the rules of the Rite. any wounds would heal at a human rate bc the Rite saps all magic. the charm on the bracelet she made with Gwyn and Emerie is glowing, telling her to go north, and apparently she Made the charms into beacons when her wish was to always be able to find their way back to each other. as she runs north, she knows she needs to find food, water, and shelter bc it looks like snow is coming. someone shoots an arrow at her and then tells her to get up when she falls. Cassian and Azriel find Briallyn’s stronghold.

chapter 66: the male Illyrian is smaller than the other but he has a bow and arrow and tells Nesta to give him her weapons. Nesta asks if there was a female where he came from and he calls Emerie a “cr*ppled bitch” and say she left her to the others bc Nesta is “better prey”. Nesta pretends to acquiesce to his demands and then throws the dagger at his groin, and he screams in pain. as he screams, she charges him and knocks him down, then pulls the knife free, steals his bow and arrows, and runs in the direction he came from, leaving him there to bleed out. she finds a group of Illyrians filling canteens at a stream and talking to each other, and listens in but doesn’t hear anything about any women where they came from, and then hears one of them say that Emerie escaped but would have made good entertainment. turns out Emerie went down the river but may have died in the rapids, so Nesta goes looking and finds Emerie clinging to a tree. Nesta strips to cross the river for Emerie. Nesta uses Emerie’s nightgown to tie her to Nesta’s body bc Emerie is unconscious, then crosses the river again, covers Emerie with the dry clothes, and then gathers wood to make a fire. Nesta holds Emerie for skin to skin warmth. she makes a plan to survive the night, help Emerie, and then find Gwyn. Nesta starts looking for a cave and a male Illyrian shows up and says “the entrance is here” and even though she is barely clothed, she senses no lust or hatred in him. the Illyrian points out the cave and says it’s big enough to fit inside, and that they won’t survive the night on the ground. he says that bc she’s not scaling a tree, it’s clear she has someone hurt with her, but she doesn’t say anything. he says he saw the man she killed, wonders who dropped weapons here, and that he has no quarrel with her, and will go to Ramiel by a less traveled path. he’s spending the night in the cave and invites her to do the same. she says so he can steal her weapons and he says no bc he knows who she is and wouldn’t be so stupid. she says it’s the Blood Rite and that he’d be forgiven, and he says faerug would not forgive him for killing her sister. he swears an oath on someone named Enalius to not kill Nesta or whoever she’s with. she counters with not to harm them in any way either, or have anyone else do the same, and he swears to that too. she asks for help carrying Emerie. we learn the guy’s name is Balthazar, and he gives Emerie his wool cloak to lay beneath. they sit on either side of Emerie to keep her warm. Nesta says that, by dawn, Balthazar needs to be gone, and he says he’ll be glad to bc the beasts in the forest might scent Emerie’s blood and come looking. she asks why he isn’t out there killing everyone, and he says bc he wants to reach Ramiel and become Oristian, but if he finds someone he wants to kill he will. they hear snapping branches and a howl, and Balthazar says they’ll be patrolling all night, but many Illyrians forget that. Balthazar offers to take first watch and Nesta says fine but she doesn’t sleep at all that night. Illyrians scream all night as the beasts hunt. Balthazar says she’ll find plenty of clothes today, says good luck, and leaves. she sees that countless bodies lay scattered around, many half-eaten. back in Cassian’s POV, they’re unable to find Eris in the lands surrounding Briallyn’s castle. Azriel asks a human merchant if he’s seen a male fae and he says yes, he saw one with red hair dragged into the castle the night before last but that he’s to be taken somewhere soon. Azriel says they’ll wait here until night and then follow them with cloud cover. Azriel and Cassian don’t talk about the bargain fey///sand made. Cassian knows he’d feel if Nesta died bc of the mating bond. Nesta looks through the bodies for clothes and supplies: two canteens, another dagger, and someone’s half-eaten rabbit dinner. when Nesta returns to the cave, Emerie is awake and asks after Gwyn, and Nesta dresses Emerie in better-fitting clothes and uses the charm to find Gwyn is to the south, which hadn’t changed since yesterday.

chapter 67: Emerie explains that she’d been attacked and chased by the Illyrians, leapt into the river as a last-ditch escape, and knocked her head on a rock. they pass many other Illyrians as they head south. some of them are solo and ignore them, while others are fighting in packs. a day passes and they find another cave to spend the night in. Emerie takes first watch and Nesta sleeps, and in the morning more beasts killed more Illyrians. it starts to snow. Emerie smells fire and they think it might belong to Gwyn bc the charms also tell them to go that way. they see Gwyn’s nightgown but no Gwyn, and they see a group of Illyrians around a fire but no Gwyn, and then Emerie is captured. Cassian and Azriel are still watching the castle but Cassian wonders if Briallyn knows they’re here and are waiting for them to make a move. Azriel can’t tell if Eris is even still alive. Cassian says they should break in and Azriel says the castle is too well-protected. one of the Illyrians says that Nesta and Emerie are stupid females for falling for the nightgown. Nesta demands to know where Gwyn is and they say they haven’t seen her, they only found the nightgown lying somewhere. one of the Illyrians who captured them is Emerie’s cousin from that day in her shop. Nesta asks if he sabotaged the Rite with weapons, and he says he wouldn’t call it sabotage and neither would some nameless “she” who Nesta suspects is Briallyn. a monster attacks before the Illyrians can make good on their threats. Nesta shouts at Emerie to run and grabs their weapons, and Emerie grabs a sword, and then hears a female voice shout at them to come her way. Gwyn is waiting for them in stolen clothes and leads them far away. she says she woke up before the others, and Nesta wonders if it’s bc she and Gwyn aren’t Illyrian, and Gwyn explains everything she’s been up to. she also lead the monster to the Illyrians holding Emerie and Nesta. Gwyn says they really came looking for her, and Emerie says of course bc that’s what sisters do.

chapter 68: as night falls, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn climb a tree with no caves to be seen. they use a rope Gwyn found to tie them to the tree so they can rest. Gwyn asks Emerie what she knows about the Rite. they trade watches to sleep. in the morning, sun shines and Gwyn climbs the tree to find that Ramiel is days away to the northeast, leaving them a day to climb it should they reach it. there’s a ravine with a wooden bridge they can reach first if they run, so they run. they see six Illyrians, who sprint toward the ravine when they see Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn, and the three of them give chase. Nesta decides they need to intercept them to make it to the ravine first, and then they fight the Illyrians. they kill all six. Cassian says he and Azriel have been sitting on their asses for four days. Azriel points out a lot of spying is waiting for people to do anything, and Cassian says that’s why he quit spying, and Azriel says spying suits him. Azriel reassures Cassian that they trained Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie well. someone leaves the castle and the fly into the sky to watch. they see that Briallyn snared Eris with the Crown, and Azriel points out that he’s still carrying the Made dagger. if he’d been under her control, she’d have taken it from him. Cassian calls him a traitor and Azriel says they need to follow them to see who they’re meeting with. Nesta and co haven’t reached the ravine before another group of Illyrians shows up with bows and arrows. they keep running even as arrows rain down, and Emerie reaches the bridge first. Nesta makes it across with Emerie, but Gwyn was shot in the thigh on the other side. she yells at them to cut the bridge and she stands up but can’t make it across the bridge in time, so Nesta ties the rope they have around the tree, then around one of her arrows, and shoots it toward Gwyn. Gwyn wraps the rope around her waist and yells at them to cut the bridge. Nesta cuts the bridge while Gwyn runs across it, and then as the bridge falls the rope around Gwyn catches her. the Illyrians behind her fall to the ravine. Emerie and Nesta pull Gwyn up to the top of the ravine, the Illyrians on the other side yelling at them. they remove the arrow from Gwyn’s leg and bind it, but she’s slowing their pace. they encounter no one else and by the time night falls they’ve made it to the foot of Ramiel, but Gwyn isn’t doing well. Nesta wakes up before dawn, then makes sure Gwyn is still alive and the wound isn’t infected. Nesta says that only twelve have made it this far in the Rite, and that they’ve already become Oristian. Gwyn says they should keep going when Nesta suggests hiding instead of climbing it, and Gwyn says so rather than try and fail they’d rather not try at all, and Emerie says not if it costs Gwyn her life. Gwyn asks if it’s really living to take the safe road, and that she’s tired of hiding in the library and that she doesn’t want to take the safe road, she wants to take the dangerous one with Nesta and Emerie. Emerie says they call it the Breaking for a reason, Nesta says they haven’t eaten in days and they’re down to the last of their water. Gwyn explains what happened with her sister, how and why she was beheaded, and tells them how she was gang-raped. then Azriel arrived and killed everyone, followed by Mor and riceman. Mor healed her and brought her to the library. she says working with Merrill helped her recover. she says she saw Nesta appear at the library and knows that Catrin, Gwyn’s twin, would’ve been the first to sign up for the training, so Gwyn did, too. and then Emerie starts talking about what happened to her, about her dad beating her so badly she once broke her back. he beat her mother, too, and when she died made Emerie dig her grave. she came to training bc she knew her dad would’ve forbidden it. Nesta then explains why she came to the House of Wind and who she was before it. Nesta says that neither of them failed anyone, and Gwyn says that she didn’t either, and they decide to climb Ramiel.

chapter 69: Eris and the caravan head east for three days. they see that Eris isn’t chained and rides beside Briallyn, but they don’t see the Crown. they enter a forest that Azriel says he’s never been to but reminds him of the Middle. Eris’s caravan halts by a lake and Azriel and Cassian land to begin tracking on foot. Eris says “Over here, Cassian” and Cassian turns and Eris holds a knife to his ribs. Nesta and co climb the mountain. Nesta wonders if the Breaking also messes with their minds bc she can’t turn hers off and Gwyn and Emerie look haunted. they rest a little and then keep climbing. at nightfall, Emerie says it looks like they’re 2/3 of the way up. Gwyn says she needs to rest, her leg bleeding. Emerie also twisted her ankle. she says that the Pass of Enalius isn’t too far ahead and that if they can make it it’s a clear shot to the top of the mountain. Nesta tells Emerie to let Gwyn rest. Gwyn spots Bellius, Emerie’s cousin, and other Illyrians making their way up the mountain. Nesta tells Gwyn to get on her back and they climb up the mountain. back with Cassian and Azriel, Eris holds Cassian with the dagger to his ribs. Cassian says that he always knew Eris was a lying bastard but this is low, and Eris says he’s disappointed in riceman, who didn’t even bother to look into his mind. Azriel says that Eris is a “dead male walking” and Eris refers to Mor as “the Morrigan” which clues Cassian in that Eris isn’t himself bc he never refers to her like that, and Cassian tells Briallyn, wherever she is, to let Eris go and come play with them instead, and Eris removes the dagger from Cassian’s side and Briallyn says that she’s already playing with them. back with Nesta, they reach the Pass of Enalius and Emerie says she’s standing where none of her ancestors ever stood before. they keep climbing but then fall back to the Pass of Enalius. Nesta says she can’t carry Gwyn anymore and Gwyn says so they rest a minute and then keep trying. Nesta says she can hold the Illyrians off while Emerie and Gwyn keep climbing. Gwyn refuses to leave her. Nesta hugs Gwyn and then knocks her out, and asks if Emerie can carry her the rest of the way, or at least until dawn. Emerie gives her all the weapons and Nesta tells her to take the canteen and lies that she has enough. Emerie says Gwyn will never forgive Nesta for this and Nesta says she knows. Nesta ties Gwyn onto Emerie’s back and Emerie asks her to come with them again, and Nesta says to consider it a repayment of a debt for being her friend, and Emerie says there is no debt, and Nesta insists there is. Emerie goes and Nesta turns to face the approaching Illyrians. Cassian knows that with Eris in Briallyn’s grip there’s little choice in doing anything, and refuses to consider himself or Azriel becoming locked in the Crown’s grip. the party that Eris and Briallyn traveled in has vanished, and Cassian wonders if they were even real. Briallyn removes her cloak and reveals there’s nothing there, and Koschei says it’s an animated kernel of magic and they’re by his lake. Nesta sees that Emerie is on the straight path to the top of the mountain and then gathers her weapons and shield.

chapter 70: Bellius sends the others through the pass toward Nesta first. Nesta fights them and wonders what she could have done with her sword in her hand, and then tells us the meaning of Ataraxia.

chapter 71: Azriel asks Koschei where Briallyn is. Koschei says he spent so many months preparing for them and now they don’t want to talk to him, and Cassian tells him to let Eris go and then they’ll talk. he hopes they can’t tell that the dagger Eris holds is Made. Azriel’s shadows seem to give a warning and he tells Cassian to run and then grabs Eris and flies into the sky, but Cassian is held in place, and Koschei tells Briallyn she can take Cassian now bc there’s plenty of time before dawn, and she emerges from the trees. Koschei says to tell Vassa he’s waiting. Briallyn says she has need of Cassian and then tells Koschei to winnow them. back with Nesta, she’s exhausted but only Bellius remains. Bellius tells her that the Illyrian god, the first of the Illyrians, fought against enemies right where Nesta stands. he says that Enalius, the god, died after three days, climbing to the sacred stone atop the mountain to die. he says it’s why they do this ”stupid thing,” to honor him. Gwyn and Emerie both touched the stone and were winnowed away by its magic. Nesta says it looks like Bellius didn’t win, and he says he never wanted to win, only wanted this, and then attacks her.

chapter 72: Nesta knows she only has to hold Bellius off until dawn, when the Rite ends. they fight and snow begins to fall. he knocks her sword and shield away and then starts cutting at her. he asks if Nesta honestly thinks she can beat him and she says yes, dodges a strike, and then smashes her hand into his nose, and says this:

And Nesta hissed, “Because my mate taught me well.”

chapter 73: they launch themselves at each other again. after more fighting, she falls and can’t get up, and Bellius approaches, but before he can kill her he’s killed by Cassian. Cassian helps her up and then says he’s going to cut her throat. in Cassian’s head, we see him trying to break free of Briallyn’s control. Nesta tries to break through to him, but then Briallyn says he’s hers and Nesta turns to see Briallyn.

chapter 74: Briallyn stands on the pass. Nesta launches herself away from Cassian when his arms loosen, but he remains still as a statue. Briallyn reveals that her plan was to nab the “maimed one” (Emerie) after having Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn brought to the Rite. Briallyn says she saw how much Nesta cared for Emerie when they were connected via the Harp ages ago. Briallyn wanted Nesta here so she doesn’t have magic, and Nesta says she was worn down days ago, why didn’t she come sooner, and Briallyn says she was waiting for Cassian. Nesta can see that rage is in Cassian’s eyes now, breaking through the glassy veneer. she says she had to use Eris to draw Cassian to her. when Eris’s soldiers came to capture him, he tried to help them, but they took him. Briallyn says that Bellius was a “hateful brute” just like Cassian. she told Bellius to hunt Nesta down but not kill her, and surmises she wasn’t precise enough in her wording to Bellius. Nesta asks why Briallyn is doing this and why she doesn’t want peace, and Briallyn says what she wants is the Trove, not peace, and that Cassian is the only person who can make Nesta summon the Trove. Briallyn says that once she has the Trove she’ll leave Cassian and Nesta unscathed, and Nesta scents the lie, and then Cassian breaks the control to say “Don’t” and Briallyn makes him close his mouth again but the glassiness isn’t in his eyes anymore. Nesta says no and Briallyn says she’ll have to try to convince her, and Cassian attacks her and Nesta has no strength to fight back. Cassian pleads with his eyes for Nesta to stop him. Briallyn says that it’ll kill him to kill his mate. Nesta says that if she’s dead Briallyn won’t get the Trove, and Briallyn says there’s others in the NC as “delusional” as Nesta. Cassian is ordered to kill, but Briallyn never specified who, so he tries to kill himself and Nesta “erupted with the force of the Cauldron.” the entire world shakes as Nesta does so, and then she attacks Briallyn and sucks her life from her until she pretty much vanishes.

chapter 75: Cassian lies facedown on the ground and Nesta runs toward him and he reveals he’s alive and she starts to cry. Cassian says Nesta Unmade Briallyn. Nesta calls Cassian her mate and then they kiss. Mor and Azriel appear. Cassian asks after Eris, and Azriel says he’s safe in the Hewn City and the Made dagger is back in their possession. Mor says “It’s Feyre”

chapter 76: the river house is silent and Mor says faerug started to bleed a few hours ago. Mor takes Nesta to faerug, whose legs are covered in blood. she’s pale and barely breathing and riceman is scared. Madja says she turned the baby but he’s stuck in the birth canal. after faerug says to do it, Madja says they could cut the baby out but it and faerug would die. Elain appears and takes Nesta’s hand and they start praying. Madja gets the tools and tells riceman to go into faerug’s mind to take away her pain, and faerug says no goodbyes. then Madja swears and riceman screams. Cassian and Azriel pull riceman away from faerug. Cassian sees Nesta wearing the Mask, Crown, and holding the Harp, and she moves toward the bed with her eyes full of silver fire, and riceman lunges for her but Nesta holds up her hand to stop him and he does. Nesta plays the twenty-sixth string.

chapter 77: the twenty-sixth string is Time itself. Nesta stops it as faerug “took her last breath.” Nesta walks through the frozen-in-time room to stop by faeurg. Nesta tells faerug she loves her. Nesta says that if she’s shown how to save faerug, the Cauldron can have its magic back. time resumes. Nesta says she gives it all back again and again and light flows from her to faerug (idk man). light keeps flowing around faerug and, as the light fades, Nesta is marked with another tattoo bargain with the Cauldron.

Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether.

chapter 77 continued: riceman rushes to faerug, who looks healthy again, and she turns to Nesta and says she loves her, too. then the baby starts to cry. Madja says that it appears faerug now has Illyrian anatomy. she also tells faerug to feed him. riceman falls to his knees in front of Nesta and thanks her, weeping. she hugs him.

chapter 78: Gwyn and Emerie are waiting in the parlor of the river house. Gwyn says she should never forgive Nesta, but Nesta just hugs her and Emerie and says they won. Mor took the Trove back to the place Nesta summong them from. Nesta asks how Emerie and Gwyn are healed and she says the stone did it. Nesta asks Emerie if her family will punish her for what happened to Bellius, and Emerie says that deaths happen in the Rite. the book waxes poetic about Nyx, fey///sand’s baby. Cassian holds the baby and he and faerug coo over him. riceman is still pale and shaken. Nesta walks in and looks at Cassian, silently requesting something, and he gives the baby to faerug. they go outside and Cassian asks if Nesta’s magic is really all gone. Nesta says she gave it all back but some of it’s still there and she thinks something or someone else stopped it from giving it all back. she also made some changes of her own. Cassian realizes it’s the Mother, who would have seen Nesta’s sacrifice and saved some magic for her. he asks what changes Nesta made. she said she changed herself a little so she can survive a birth. Cassian is shocked and asks if she’s ready to have a baby and she says no, she’ll be drinking her tea for a while yet. she says she wants a “disgustingly ornate” mating ceremony, and Cassian says they’ll never hear the end of it from Mor and Azriel. she gives him a biscuit instead then and says it’s part of the ceremony, to offer the mate food, and Cassian laughs and says his options are a stale biscuit or a frilly ceremony, and she says yes. he says they’ll make a coronation of it and she says she already has a crown. Cassian starts to think about everything they have to do and Nesta says they’ll think about that all later, and then tells him “I love you.”

chapter 79: two days after Nyx’s birth, Cassian goes to meet with Eris in the Hewn City. Eris says he can’t stay long and Cassian says “good”. they want to know what Eris told Beron. Eris says that Beron knows Cassian “assisted” him when he was kidnapped. Cassian wonders if Beron tortured him and Eris explains the lies he gave him in answer. Eris tells him to not pity him. Cassian asks why Eris left Mor in the forest that day. Eris says that Cassian isn’t the person he wants to explain himself to. Eris says that Beron might be stupid enough to try to ally with Koschei. Cassian goes to leave, then stops.

chapter 80: as spring blooms, faerug and Nyx are well enough to leave the house, and they go on walks around the house with riceman or Mor with them, both really protective. Cassian and Azriel are too. one day, Nesta, faerug and Elain all go on a walk. we learn Nesta and Cassian have sex a lot and he calls her mate all the time. Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie told Cassian and Azriel everything that happened, and the two of them made lists of what to fix during training, which doesn’t stop even though they’ve passed the Rite. Gwyn says she might leave the library to come to the mating ceremony in three days. Nesta wants an outrageous party but not a big crowd, and so the temple is done up and riceman promises it’ll be what she hopes for. riceman gave Cassian and Nesta the House of Wind, since it decided it liked Nesta more than anyone else, as a wedding gift, with the library still belonging to the priestesses and the house being used for formal occasions. faerug painted Nesta holding the line at the Pass of Enalius as a gift. Nesta had let riceman see some of the Rite but had no idea it had been to give faerug ideas for a painting. now, Elain, faerug, and Nesta go to visit their dad’s grave so they can show Nyx and vice versa. faerug says “Your grandson, Father”. faerug had asked Nesta if she wanted to go with them that morning, and Nesta had said yes. Nesta lingers by the gravestone and tries to think of something to say, like an explanation or apology, but nothing comes. she says she’s going to live the rest of her life deserving the love of the people who love her. she leaves the carving she took from the cottage at the gravestone. she says “thank you” to him and hears Cassian flying overhead, making sure she’s all right, and she thinks “busybody” but blows him a kiss. then she turns and joins her sisters, who beckon to her from halfway down the hill.

#anti sjm #anti acosf #myth and kat read acosf #spoilers #acosf recap #long post

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crispmarshmallow · 3 years

Text

and it’s so gut wrenching

Love me with your worst intentions.

It had been a wedding gift from her brothers - a beautiful dagger commissioned by Doran and crafted by the blacksmith in Sunspear and bejeweled with the most precious stones Oberyn had acquired from across the Narrow Sea. They gifted it to her in a small chest as decorated as the weapon it carried before she left for Kingslanding.

Elia had picked up the dagger from the velvet inside of the chest and relished in the feeling of it between her fingers when they handed it over to her. She had loved it. Daggers were one of the few weapons she had learned to use. One of the few that her delicate health allowed her to possess. I do not think I will need it. She had said to them. I will be a Princess of the Realm with many a sword and a Prince sworn to my protection. Doran and Oberyn insisted nonetheless - they would sleep easier if they knew she was not unarmed.

And she had not had any need for it. She took it with her wherever she travelled - from Dragonstone to Kingslanding and back - but she rarely took it out of its chest. Rare occasions being the ones when she had it lightly polished so it would not lose its lustre.

Elia had never felt the need for it. Until she did - at Harrenhal. Rhaegar had crowned another who was not her. And she knew - just knew - what precarious protection that her husband promised her within the Sept of Baelor was no more.

Rhaegar rode past her after his victory against Selmy and though she felt insulted and neglected she kept her face neutral. She had perfected her mask as a princess far before she could even remember. She watched Rhaegar hand over the woven crown of winter roses to Lyanna Stark. She watched the uproar he caused. And she knew. Rhaegar had always been so cautious - he would risk so much for so little.

It did not matter that she carried his child within her - a child that could possibly be his heir. It was the last child that she would likely ever bear according to Pycelle. She had given Rhaegar Rhaenys and soon she will give another. The dragon must have three heads. Isn’t that what he always whispered to her? And she could not bear a third.

Elia had noticed how his sweet little promises of love had grown far less frequent after the diagnosis by Pycelle. And she suddenly knew that was the reason - knew that was why he spurned her before all of Westeros for a woman already betrothed. She could no longer be an instrument in his precious prophecy.

And so Elia took the dagger out its chest that night and slept with it under her pillow. She continued to do so after they left Harrenhal.

Painted us a happy ending

She could not sweep Rhaegar’s actions under the rug. Elia had her pride and dignity to salvage. He had insulted her. House Martell. Dorne. And even his own children by neglecting her before the entire realm.

However, Elia and the little babe within her and Rhaenys held little power outside Dorne without Rhaegar. And so she could do no more than be as cold as the winters the House of his little Lyanna liked to warn of. Oh, a part of her wanted to do so much more. She wanted to coat her precious dagger in the poisons that Oberyn liked to experiment with so much and prick a small wound into her husband. She knew she could not do so though - she depended on him far too much. Moreover, it would tear her heart into two.

It took an effort on her part, even with those dark thoughts, to be so cold to him. Somewhere along all the sweet promises he used to whisper when she had some use to him had made her grow to love him. Her coldness towards him and Aerys’ continued descent into madness was taking a toll on her.

Pycelle had begun to worry for the child. And that made Rhaegar come seeking for forgiveness. Until then, he took her treatment with silence - ignoring anything out of the ordinary. Until then.

Rhaegar had apologized and kissed her tears of fury away. He whispered to her of how Lyanna Stark had been the Knight of the Laughing Tree and that his act had only been a reward for her valor and bravery and nothing more. He whisked Elia and Rhaenys away from Kingslanding to Dragonstone and catered to her every need.

And Elia had begun to believe his acts of repentance. He had looked so proud of her when she gave birth to little Aegon and how a comet shone over them as she did. He sang little Aegon a beautiful song. He said that little beautiful Aegon was the Prince that was Promised.

Elia had begun to believe him and his promises again. She had. Just not enough to put the dagger back into its chest.

Everytime you burned me down,

She loved him. She believed him. And she cursed herself for it. She wished she buried her dagger into his chest while she had a chance.

Rhaegar had insisted that they return to Kingslanding a month or two after sweet Aegon joined them. They had presented Aegon to Aerys and surprisingly garnered thin approval from the Mad King.

After that Rhaegar had left Kingslanding with two of the Kingsguard in tow. I must do this for the realm. He had refused to tell her what. Elia had supposed that it must have something to do with his plans in overthrowing Aerys.

She did not think him foolish enough to go and run off with Lyanna Stark. She didn't think he would risk war for a woman. And yet he did.

He ran off with her. Brandon Stark demanded justice and he and his father were slaughtered before her eyes and the eyes of the court in a way so brutal that Elia began to have nightmares of her and her children in their place. Burning as Rhaegar watched passively - caring none for his family.

As he did at the moment. War raged in the realm and no one knew where he was. And so nothing stopped Aerys from mistreating her and her children without Rhaegar in the city. Picking her as his target when he lashed out.

He hurled insult after insult against her - blaming her for Rhaegar’s indiscretions. He had her humiliated before the court. Elia did her best to ensure that Rhaenys and Aegon were never in the vicinity when Aerys gathered in the Throne Room. She made sure Ashara had whisked them away to some quiet corner in the Keep while Aerys had his attention on her.

She endured it - for her children. She would do anything for them. As she would have for Rhaegar. As Rhaegar would not have done for them. As he did not do for them.

And Elia began to sleep at night with the dagger in one hand as Rhaenys curled around her body and she cradled Aegon in the other hand.

Don’t know how, for a moment it felt like heaven

He came back to head the armies that he neglected for so long. Baratheon bagged victory after victory and Rhaegar could no more ignore his responsibility as the Prince and heir to House Targaryen.

She had not bothered to welcome him. She feigned illness to avoid it - an excuse that was all too plausible. She did not want to see him after he returned from doing what he did with Lyanna Stark.

However, Rhaegar saw fit to visit her and his children before he left for the battlefield. He came to Aegon’s nursery where Elia and Rhaenys spent most of their time these days. He came fitted in his armor decked with rubies and jewels and looked every bit the Prince that he was. The sight of him made her chest tighten with sadness and loathing and happiness at seeing him after so long.

She watched him scoop Rhaenys into his arms and kiss her on the nose and whisper something that made his daughter burst into giggles. It would be so easy for Elia to think that he cared about his children - more than he cared about his stupid prophesy - to think that they could be a happy little family. Eventually, he put Rhaenys down and moved to pick up the sleeping Aegon to press a kiss to his forehead.

He approached Elia next. She curtsied to him and let him embrace her. She basked in its warmth for a moment. He whispered his little promises in her ears and Elia wondered if they always sounded so ridiculous. Lyanna Stark was the ice to his fire. Lyanna Stark was with child in Dorne. Rhaegar took his mistress to the homeland of his wife.

Elia wanted to scream in fury and unleash the wrath of the Sun onto him - not even a dragon could prevail before the heat of the Sun. She thought of her dagger once more and of the satisfaction she would feel to see it in his heart. But it still remained that Elia was powerless without her husband. So she let him kiss her softly and let him mistake her tears of anger as tears of sadness at seeing him leave for battle.

“Who do you think he fights for?” She had asked Ser Jaime - the last of the Kingsguard in Kingslanding - a hostage to ensure the loyalty of his family as she was, as they watched Rhaegar and his host leave the city. . “Do you think he fights to keep Aerys on the Throne? Or to place himself upon it? Or so he can keep little Lyanna Stark? Do you think he fights for Aegon and Rhaenys?”

Jaime had hesitated. “He fights for you all, Princess.” It was an empty answer. Elia knew that the young knight almost worshipped the ground that Rhaegar walked upon.

All? Elia had scoffed. “And yet he does not fight for me.” He never has and never will.

Rhaegar did not see fit to update her of his wellbeing or the state of war and the little news she received was always from Varys or Jaime.

And a day came where Varys told her that her husband fell on the battlefield at the hands of Robert Baratheon - the name of Lyanna Stark on his tongue. Elia’s heart mourned while the darker parts of her soul rejoiced to see the man die at the hands of little Lyanna’s betrothed.

However, with his death it became more evident than ever how her position had depended on Rhaegar. Aerys blamed the Dornish for Rhaegar’s fate. He kept Elia and her children as he sent Viserys and Rhaella to Dragonstone - but not before stripping Aegon of his status as heir and handing it over to Viserys.

Elia lost almost everything after her husband died - the husband that had thought not of his children or wife in his last moments.

All Elia thought was of her children and she walked the corridors of the Red Keep with her dagger tucked into the sleeves of her dress with the two of them always by her side.

And it’s so gut wrenching,

Aerys opened the gates for Tywin Lannister and Elia knew there was no hope. All she could think of as she rushed through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast with Rhaenys holding on to her hand and a babe in her other was that she was thankful that Aegon was away and safe with Varys.

Elia did not trust Varys - he had simply been her only choice to keep her babe alive. If Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister did not kill Aegon, Elia knew Aerys would. So she had let Varys take him to safety and she hated him with every part of her being for not taking Rhaenys too.

She hid them in the chambers of her dead husband as she could hear the chaos coming closer and closer. She tried to keep her tears of fury and fear and helplessness at bay as she told Rhaenys to hide beneath her father’s bed as if the piece of furniture would protect her as her father should have. She let her take Balerion with her - her little black kitten. Elia could only wish that the kitten was as powerful as its namesake. Alas, she could only wish as the noise got louder.

She slipped her dagger out of her sleeves and clutched it so tightly between her fingers that it hurt. She had none to protect her and Rhaenys and the babe that she held. Jaime was with Aerys and Barristan was captured by the Rebels and the rest were with her husband’s precious Lyanna Stark.

She murmured to the children in the room as she could hear heavy footsteps itching closer to them - trying to reassure them and herself. She would not let them be harmed without a fight. She would protect them with the dagger that she thought she would never have to use and all that she had.

She would protect them as the man she loved and their father should have. She would protect Rhaenys and Aegon and even the child that she held and Elia Martell knew that it would still not be enough.

Falling in the wrong direction.

Contains lyrics from Wrong Direction by Hailee Steinfeld © Warner Chappell Music, Inc, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

#Elia Martell #Rhaegar Targaryen #Lyanna Stark #Young Griff #Aegon VI targaryen #Rhaenys Targaryen #mad king aerys #robert's rebellion #jaime lannister #tourney of harrenhal #ELIA MARTELL DESERVED BETTER #RHAEGAR TARGARYEN CAN BURN IN HELL FOR ALL I CARE #fanfic #crispmarshmallow #got #game of thrones #asoiaf

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simplicity1511 · 4 years

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Yashahime EPISODE 1 Review

I just finished the first episode of Yashahime and OMFG!!!!!!!

There are so many emotions running through me right now as someone who watched the original series on YTV Bionix. I remember being like 5 and 6 and staying up late to watch it, sometimes even falling asleep before it aired. It’s original air time was 11pm but by the time I was around 8-9 years old, the show started airing at 9pm.

I remember asking my aunt to wait up until I finished my favorite show before I went to bed because we were going to the airport that night to visit my cousin who had recently given birth to her second kid and I was tagging along. I remember it being the episode Kohoku regains his memories. Good thing I didn’t miss it but I sure do remember being disappointed that I wasn’t seeing InuYasha and the gang that episode.

Speaking of our boy Kohoku, it looks like he has a new weapon (that is correct, ladies and gents, our boy appears in the first episode!!) However, not adult Kohaku, our itty bitty boy from the original series.

For those that didn’t get a chance to read the manga, there's an epilogue chapter that deals with the root demon that our gang ends up fighting in the first episode and it appears to have maybe merged with the Tree of Ages. I suspect this because it shows a hole in the tree in the same location as Kikyo’s arrow had been when she shot InuYasha to it. I’m curious to see what shit this root ends up stirring.

However, the most interesting thing I discovered was not from the episode itself but from the opening sequence as well as the next episode preview. From the looks of it, it appears as if all three girls have a pearl, Towa’s is Silver, Setsuna’s is Gold and Moroha is Red. Now given the fact that in the original series pearls played a role not once but twice in the series, both in the beginning and end, and they appear multiple times in the opening and ending sequences of the show, we know they're going to play an important role.

The first time they appear in the original series is when our sexy Sesshomaru was trying to look for Tessaiga. In this case, the pearl was located in InuYasha’s eye and led to the land of the dead which is where we come across the bones of Inu-Pops.

The second time is when they looked for one of the last shards of the jewel which just happened to have been in the possession of the demon who created the pearl who was also located at the grave of our beloved Inu-Pops.

We also know that this demon had a son who was continuing his work at creating pearls as this is how we learn that his father, who had created InuYasha’s pearl, had already died. The most logical conclusion is the son most likely created the pearls for our three ladies.

Another thing to keep in mind is that in the opening song, you will notice that at some point Towa’s eye starts glowing, and it has a similar appearance as InuYasha’s did when we see the pearl first appear. We know these pearls have strange abilities and for whatever reason each girl was given one. Given the fact that the girls have no knowledge of their parents, it appears that this was most likely hatched by our boys to help their daughters in whatever way possible. Much in the same way Inu-Pops gave his two swords, Tessaiga and Tenseiga to his two sons to protect them and teach them something even if he wasn’t around to do it.

Now speaking of our boys, Sesshomaru is still as sexy as ever and it appears as if he tries to stay close to the village in order to reach Rin as swiftly as possible. That or he has some teleportation ability we don’t know about but with how fast he moves, he might as well have it.

For those of us who grew up with InuYasha being torn between Kagome and Kikyo and the constant conflict that it caused throughout the series, it was kinda refreshing to see it again and see how they both behaved as adults regarding those emotions

I found Kagome’s handling of it really fascinating because by this point she’s already sorted out her feelings for Kikyo, yet InuYasha still thinks that Kikyo causes Kagome pain which in the beginning she did but Kagome has moved past that pain and she knows who she is as a person beyond just being her reincarnation.

I think it’s further indicated when we first see Kagome and she shows the twins a kikyo root which is supposed to be good for coughs and fevers. When it panels to Sango we can see the surprise on her face as to hearing Kagome mention Kikyo’s name (you know it was an intentional reference especially if you’ve read the manga and know what kind of demon Miroku and InuYasha are fighting). Knowing this, still didn’t keep me from being surprised. I feel like just like the plant, Kagome has come to admire Kikyo’s strength as a priestess, something she’s trying to achieve herself as a Priestess in Training.

The original series dealt with a lot of Kagome’s identity being referenced as Kikyo and other characters trying to erase her individuality as just another copy of Kikyo. Something that Naruku did pretty frequently especially using the feelings Kagome had towards InuYasha against them on multiple occasions using Kikyo.

Just like how in the first episode of the original series where InuYasha kept calling Kagome, Kikyo when they first met, Kagome has to tell off the root demon and clarify that she is Ka-go-me, NOT Kikyo.

I really liked all the symbolism this episode had and the references to the original series especially given that Towa ends up encountering a broken seat from a bike in the Feudal Era and as we know Kagome has had her bike destroyed and replaced, many a times throughout the series.

The fact that Towa is someone whose been raised in the future by the brother of the woman who travels to the past is very interesting given the fact that she is the daughter of Seshomaru whose InuYasha’s older brother who besides Kagome was the only other person to be able to travel in time.

I’m wondering what makes InuYasha/Sesshomaru’s blood special as it appears as if all three girls were able to travel to the future so if Seshomaru himself had tried going through the bone eaters well, could he too have travelled to the future like InuYasha?

Kagome was able to travel due to the Jewel of Four Souls and once that was destroyed her connection to the past was severed so I’m curious to see how the past and future end up connecting the three girls together because it was Kagome and InuYasha’s love in the end that reopened the well three years later. However, we know in the current timeline that the well is closed which makes me wonder what kind of fate these three girls share as the Half Demon Princesses (also Princesses of what may I ask?)

On a final note, in both series there are demon birds, the first a carrion crow demon who likes shiny things like the jewel, another an owl who is wise and has knowledge of the past. I suspect that this demon will play a key role in how this story ends up progressing, much in the same way the crow did.

Being a long time fan of the show, I remember being really sad when the series ended and frustrated when they didn’t defeat Naraku by the end of the original anime run. My head would constantly have ideas of what their future would have been like once the pesky fellow was dead and once I had gotten a computer (at age 11) and I discovered manga sites, I finally got an answer to my question.

Then a few years later, teenage me finally got those last chapters animated. I was finally blessed with my ending so I’ll be real frank with you when I say I was not happy this show was coming. While everyone else was freaking out that Seshomaru fucked someone, I was wondering, what could have caused Kagome and InuYasha to abandon their daughter which would be totally out of character for the both of them especially given InuYasha’s childhood. I doubt he would have abandoned his daughter given having lost his mother at such a young age himself and never knowing who his dad was until much later in his life. He would never want his own daughter to experience the loneliness and struggle he did before he met Kagome, Sango and Miroku.

Now having watched the first episode I can’t say my fears are dissipated for this unwanted sequel series as we have yet to know what happened so the possibility that its a shitty reason for why Moroha is alone is still high meaning the possibly my favorite characters are shit on is still there.

This series means a lot given the time I watched InuYasha my family had recently immigrated to Canada and while most people were into Pokemon at my age, which don’t get me wrong, I was too.

I was far more fascinated by a girl who travelled through time in a fantasy world where she meets a cute dog demon boy and develops strong friendships, a budding romance and never loses herself. To a little girl who was also in a strange new country of her own, she was my role model.

She’s the reason I wanna learn archery at some point in my life and helped me to grow to be the strong independent woman I am today.

Even at 24 years of age, this is still my favorite series and I love all the symbolism and references to the old series while also having its own fresh perspective that Yashahime provides. It doesn’t mean that my skepticism has been cured.

When I watched InuYasha, I got Kagome, Sango, Kikyo, Kaede and Kagura (her death is still so beautifully tragic) and now a whole new generation of girls are going to get Towa our leader, the calm and cool collected Setsuna and our charge first and ask questions later Moroha (just like her dad :’). I can’t wait to see how they grow and hopefully how their beloved parents grew.

InuYasha for me was my first conceptual understanding of anime and where my love for it came from. I’m looking forward to seeing how this story progresses. But I won’t be afraid of criticizing it regardless of the good first impression I got.

Also, does anyone else get reminded of Miroku’s wind tunnel when they see InuYasha’s Meido Zangetsuha? Just me?

Now time to listen to that opening and ending on repeat.

See You Next Week!

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ashittyfanficblog · 4 years

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Office Hours (Enji Todoroki)

Smut, choking, kinda femdom reader? Also it ends up kinda cracky. Mentions of abuse.

Enji was surprisingly affectionate with you and you had to constantly try not to show it in front of others. You knew about his past, about the abuse he used to inflict upon his family- you even knew that his former marriage was solely for giving birth to a weapon. Enji has changed so much since then, paid his dues and keeps trying to correct his mistakes even now. It is not strange that you get startled when Enji placed an arm around your waist or grabbed your hand in his, fingers tangled with yours. He has always seemed closed off to other people.

In private, Enji was affectionate too, maybe even on a higher level than in public. He would wake you up with butterfly kisses, large palms going over your back or sides as he gently roused you. He would not speak your name but sweet, terribly sweet, petnames like honey, dear, love… You couldn't help but fall harder for the idiot. Especially because Enji did not stop at that. There were days when he was clingy, following your steps like a big hound, damn near holding onto your sleeve until he found the nearest 'resting place' (read: cuddle spot) and dragged you in for a nap. His body constantly gave off heat and it was easy for you to fall asleep in his arms, out like a light.

During work hours, Enji was not like that. He was focused and professional, almost the same man he used to be. But you had your way of pulling the sweet man you fell in love with out and it was very, very simple. You only had to ask his secretary not to disturb you and enter his spacious office. The woman gives you a knowing smile and assures you that no one will be coming unless something important is happening.

Seeing Enji behind his desk, slaving over paperwork was a familiar sight. He brings his job home way too often and you can only roll your eyes at his dedication. Still, you wouldn't be you if you were afraid to make Enji pay attention to you. The sound of your footsteps is loud in the otherwise silent room, you notice Enji press his lips together but there is a telltale twitch at the left corner that lets you know he is suppressing a smile. With a grin, you plop your ass on the edge of his desk and watch him scribble something on some document or whatever before poking his soft cheek. Turquoise eyes turn to you and one red eyebrow raises in question. In response, you place your foot at his chair and push until Enji gets you. He allows you to push back his chair and you damn near throw yourself into his lap. Enji grunts as you wiggle around until you're using him as a chair, your legs on top of his and you imagine yourself to be a Tetris piece.

A strong arm wraps around your soft waist, the other pulls the chair and you both to the desk, and Enji is working again. You lean back against him, eyes closed as you feel his breathing, his heartbeat and hear the scratch of pen on paper. Enji is warm and you feel quite a bit like a cat, all curled up in a sunny spot and dozing away. The moment is sweet, quiet and serene. You feel safe and your heart is full of love towards the rough man. The way Enji leans his cheek to your temple, how his fingers slowly drag over your stomach tells you just how much he loves you too.

"Your secretary totally thinks we're fucking."

"Like you'd be so quiet." Enji snorts, giving you a squeeze. "Besides, I'm working."

"So you'd rather do paperwork? Alright, I see how it is. You ain't even that good."

There's a pause and you have to control your facial expression, keeping yourself from smirking. If there was one thing Enji hated, it was having his male pride being hurt. Enji squirms beneath you, his thick thighs tensing moments before you find yourself bent over the desk, papers crushed beneath your body. Fortunately, you did not faceplant into the wooden surface or let out a scream.

Enji is pressed against you, his body like a very warm, very pleasurable cage as his hips grind against yours. You can feel him, hot and hard, and wish for him to just fuck you already. Large hands shove down your trousers and underwear to your knees. Enji sneaks a hand between your legs, thick fingers spreading your folds to rub and tease your clit until you're squirming then those hot, hot fingers are pressing into you. The heat of his skin almost burns as he slowly pumps his fingers and you have to clutch at the edge of the desk, mouth clenched to keep your moans in.

Enji stretches you, has you cumming with just his hand and you push back against him, nearly overwhelmed by pleasure. You refuse to show how easily he could make you fall apart. He lets you stand straight but his arms are now a vice around your waist you don't really want to escape. Enji is kissing your neck, your jaw and nibbling on your ears until your thoughts are a mess. His hands wander beneath your clothes, cupping your breasts- gentle at first, just a teasing touch.

"Is that all you've got?" You tease, turning in his arms to pull his face to yours. You kiss him deeply, tongue sweeping into his mouth. Enji tries hard to take over, to lead, but your stubbornness won't let him.

You break the kiss when you're both dizzy with a lack of oxygen, pushing Enji back into his office chair. He watches, silent and expecting, as you take off your clothes. His fingers curl around the armrests when you touch yourself in front of him, one hand on your breast, the other between your thighs.

"Come here." Enji grunts, looking just a moment away from jumping you.

"Have you deserved it?" There's a wicked smile on your lips as you step between his legs, knees brushing against his dick. You place the fingers that were between your legs on his lips, smearing your arousal over them until Enji opens his mouth. You shove your fingers inside, bending them to press on his tongue. "Have you been a good little hero, baby?"

He mumbles something and you press down harder on his tongue, making him stop. Enji's hands pull at your hips, fingers bruising your skin. You laugh, raising one knee to rest on his thigh. Enji is so needy when like this, constantly wanting to touch and take, refusing to even nod yes or no. But you could be even worse because you wanted to make him hurt, see tears in those pretty eyes as he moans out your name. Two fingers tease your folds, circle around your aching clit until they sink into your velvety warmth. A pleased little hum leaves your lips once he begins moving. You tilt your head to the side, face serious.

"That all you've got?" You mock, hand slipping from his pretty mouth to grasp at his neck. Enji swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing between your index and thumb. "You're a useless bitch. You call that fingering?"

"I'll show you." There's that growl you love in his voice, vibrating against your hand. His lips are pressed into a tight line. "I'll fuck you so good, so hard that you'll walk funny for days."

"Promises, promises."

You press harder on his neck, fingers pressing into the sides so hard that your nails leave gauges behind. You're thrilled that he lets you do this to him, to hurt him with your hands, almost kneel on his dick. He's so big and strong and he easily lets you wreck him. Seeing his eyes roll back just because you were choking him is priceless. His eyes glare into yours and you have to wonder when will he flip but he never does. You kiss him, deep and hard, taking his mouth for your own until you feel like you've left a mark on his very soul. You pull slightly back, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, now both hands groping his strong body, knee sliding down to rub against his dick. His hips move, seeking friction but you were often cruel to Enji so you take a step away, enjoying how his teeth clench.

You move back to his desk, seating yourself on top of it, spreading your legs to reveal your dripping core to Enji. You look him in the eye as you touch yourself, hands in all of the places he would want to touch. You love the way his fingers clench on the armrests when you're knuckle deep inside of yourself, like he's a step away from jumping on you. Enji's fingers are gripping the armrests, licking his lips, those pretty eyes full of desire.

"How does it feel to be allowed only to watch? Is it frustrating, knowing that you're not the one making me feel good?"

"It's killing me." Enji grunts, twitching in his pants. "Let me help you."

"But you didn't say the magic word baby."

"Please?"

"So polite." You praise then point down to the floor. "I want to see you on your knees, between my legs."

Enji drops to his knees, chair rolling away. You throw your legs over his broad shoulders and lean back, looking unfairly relaxed. Enji glances up at you as his hands curl over your thighs, gripping harder when you say nothing. Then his face is hidden from your eyes, buried in your cunt. One of your hands is in his hair as he eats you out, kissing and licking until you're almost seeing stars. It feels so damn good but you're stubborn and refuse to let Enji know how amazing his mouth feels. With each passing minute, Enji's movements become more erratic. His teeth catch your clit, his tongue soothes the burn away. He slurps loudly, moans and groans against you.

"Having trouble?" You breathe. "Come on, Enji, are you all talk?"

Your words urge Enji on and his efforts double until he pulls you by the hips, making you lie flat on your back. Your ass is almost on his chest and you're blinking away the stars. Stubbornly, you refuse to come, clenching your thighs and abdomen in the effort but you can't last forever. You can feel Enji grin when your back arches, when a groan leaves your lips. Your thighs shake around his head and Enji has to pry them apart.

"Was that good enough, my firecracker?" Enji speaks, sounding smug. "Was it good enough?"

"Can't really say. My mind is still… Drifting."

"I'm not done yet."

Just as Enji stood between your legs, grinning down on you with his cock in his hand, a knock came. You both froze, looking at the door with wide eyes.

"Yes?" His voice is a growl, irritation seeping in. Enji did not like being interrupted in anything, especially fun time with you.

"I'm sorry sir but your interns have arrived."

"Now?"

"Yes, sir. It is four o'clock." The secretary sounds a bit frazzled, maybe even a bit afraid.

"Let them wait a bit."

"Yes, sir."

Enji sighs, helping you up off of his desk and to put on clothes. Your panties disappear in a drawer to his right and you shake your head in disbelief. That was your favourite pair, comfortable AND cute.

"See you at home?" You ask as you try to look less like you'd just had a romp with a badass hero.

"I should be there around eight." Enji informs you, a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guides you to the door. "I love you."

He stops you to give you a sweet, lingering kiss before opening the door. You come face to face with two teenagers looking ready to piss themselves just at the sight of Endeavour. You give them a bright smile as you push past them, waving at Enji over your shoulder.

Maybe the interns almost pissed themselves at the sight of Enji's raging hard on. After all, that hero suit really didn't leave much to imagination.

#office hours #spicy content #enji todoroki x reader #enji todoroki

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greytoiletpaper · 3 years

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Out on Allen Street, it’s 7 in the Morning

Set in the Street Siblings au by @a-sketchy-character | @streetsiblings without which I may not have had the motivation to write this much.

Drizzle | Deluge | Squall | AO3

Chapter 4: susurration

The world is dark.

Somehow, she knows how many marks and cuts criss-cross her body; how many bruises decorate her like a canvas. But she can’t feel them, not even one.

Instead, all she can do is listen, tuning in to the rain as it pours, as red droplets fall in time off of Mad Dog’s blade. If she really listens to the sound, it almost sounds like a different boy’s laughter.

She focuses on the noise and it alone, her body so perfectly still.

Mad Dog thrusts his blade to her chest, and Cassandra’s eyes open.

They’ve only been in Gotham for a week, yet, it feels like he never left. At least for Park Row, the “Crime Alley”, the city has never changed. Slowly, the Red Hood and Ravager make the area their own. He does everything to make sure that the Bat never catches a whiff of what he’s doing. He knows it is pointless; even if Bruce knew, he would be too much of a coward to venture into the evil heart of the city.

It infuriates him, the remnants of the old argument. If Batman was ever truly needed. It would be - no, should be - here. In the black, beating heart of Gotham, where crime and cruelty channel through its citizens as if it were in their own blood. Yet for all he prattles about his crusade of justice, Bruce will never set foot into Crime Alley; too hung up on the ghosts of his past to banish the ones that haunt others.

It’s why he’s wearing the original persona of the man who murdered him. Jason had lived these streets, born and raised and died because of them. Deep down, Jason understands what Bruce simply refuses to believe. Some people simply want to watch the world burn, and they can never be stopped, only carefully controlled, managed or otherwise taken out. He never wants what happened to him to be inflicted on someone else. Not if he can help it.

Now, Red Hood is here, slinking through the darkened hallways of Arkham. Past every guard and camera until he arrives at one particular cell. He knocks on the door, and a mop of neon green flips upwards.

The madman beams; his eyes are whirlpools of chaotic energy.

“What’s this? Birdy clipped his wings!” The Joker begins, guffawing like a howling hyena. “I was wondering when you’d come back to see me, little Jay.”

To his credit, Jason doesn’t react. The pneumatic seals of the helmet hiss as it comes off. The Joker never takes his eyes off his face.

“There you are, my boy. Just like your uncle Jay” The lunatic says without tone, feral grin seeming plastered. “Say, you seen Cass anywhere?”

That makes him shift uneasily on his feet. The Joker leans in close, almost conspiratorially.

“You think the Bat ran her out? That he…” Something morbid flashes in the eyes of his monster. “Killed her just like I did you?”

Jason wants to drive his fists into the man’s back. Stamp on his legs until the bones shatter. Bludgeon him over and over with whatever is on hand until the madman’s flesh is nothing but paste. Instead, he stands frozen as the cackling echoes around the room and in his ears.

“I’m not doing this for you,” Is what he says. “And I’m not doing this for me either.”

His hand lifts the pistol from its holster.

“I’m doing this because someone has to do what Batman can’t.”

The Joker takes the words in stride, nodding to himself. To Jason, it’s the calmest he has ever seen him.

“Not a fan of the whole motorcycle fetish style, but to each his own,” The madman’s eyes, still rotting in their own insanity, meet his. Something about the gaze seems so clear despite the instability. “You’re going to be wonderful for the Red Hood name.”

He sighs.

“When you do it, boy, make sure you get as much of the colour out of me.”

Jason nods and presses the barrel into Joker’s forehead, closes his eyes, and everything is silent.

He presses his hand to the glass, the rain sliding down the pane on the other side, its streams the same lengths as the rivers that flow from his red crown.

Fact One, a statement: Roman Sionis is the Black Mask, one of Gotham's most powerful crime lords with connections running deeply in the underground drugs and weapons trade.

Fact Two, an amendment: Roman Sionis is the Black Mask, arguably one of Gotham's most powerful crime lords with sizeable connections in the weapons trade.

Fact Three, a truth: He is absolutely livid with the Red Hood and the Ravager.

Roman stares at the text on the notepad; he picks it up and throws it across the room.

In the space of two nights, the new duo had taken over his entire drug operation and cut off every tie Roman had to Crime Alley. Internally, he thinks ‘cut off’ is still too lacking a description. Half of his thugs breathing through tubes for days. Pimps found castrated and dangling from lampposts. Drug dealers with their mouths frothing as they dissociated. If the rumour mill among villains is anything to go by, Red Hood had killed the Joker in his own damn cell. Roman shudders. He’d seen the images from the crime.

The pair are definitely a threat, and Roman needs him gone as soon as possible. Hiring the Joker would have been one of the best choices: effective, relatively cheap and definitely motivated to take on whoever dares don his previous mantle. Alas, reality disagrees.

Black Mask picks up the phone, ready to dial the more expensive alternative. He sighs and hopes they don’t call Deathstroke the ‘Terminator’ for nothing.

Cassandra dives away at the last second, adrenaline flushing through her body and lifting the fog from her mind. Her opponent’s blade impacts with the ground, firmly planting itself the whole way. Mad Dog, clearly thrown off, becomes an easy target with her renewed energy.

She does not hold back, unleashing a flurry of blows to the assassin’s chest, even as he tries to hold his defence together. With renewed focus, she redirects every strike he makes and strikes him back thrice as hard.

It is not long until Mad Dog is at Cassandra’s mercy, nearly a bloody pulp under her hand.

“Finish it,” Shiva calls suddenly, and she almost complies. But, with her hazy vision, the images of Faizul and the assassin blend together. The vertigo Cassandra is feeling becomes sharper, and she’s drowning in it.

In her hesitation, Shiva tuts and stabs her own blade into Mad Dog’s heart, crimson fluid spraying in all directions.

Cass doubles over, desperately heaving, and liquid green purges from her body.

Bruce stares up at the readout on the Batcomputer. There are new players in Gotham, but there’s something that makes them stand out from the others. They make headway faster than he’s ever seen it, clearing out and claiming Park Row as their own territory in a week.

Twenty-seven confirmed kills and thirty-four hospitalisations. He would have stopped with his investigation then and there. Yet, the detective in him tugs the back of his mind. He checks through the names again and finds that each one is attached to a laundry list of crimes that become more appalling the further he reads.

Then Red Hood killed the Joker; and for the first time since the madman’s debut, Gotham is quiet.

Bruce rubs his face in his hands and turns to the screens entirely dedicated to monitoring his daughter Cassandra. (The memorial makes itself known in his peripheral vision.) Her work in Hong Kong as Black Bat had been phenomenal so far. Every story he can find of her weaves the same story: Black Bat, hero of the Forgotten. Of the waylaid and the oppressed.

What would they think? Bruce finally turns to the statue, mouthing the words on the plaque to himself.

“Can you promise something for me, Bruce? Just one thing?”

“Anything for you, Jaylad.”

He tears his eyes away.

Damian becomes cagey whenever either of the three vigilantes come up in conversation. It is suspicious, but he has had the lesson very solidly ironed in his mind how unconducive to understanding he can be. So, he gives his son his space.

Despite the child's refined nature, little pieces of him remind him of Jason, far beyond the boy's temper, pride, or even his cursing. Bruce had seen Damian in the library once, his fingers tracing the spine of a newer copy of Huckleberry Finn.

Red and orange flash by his primary monitor, and Bruce pulls himself from his thoughts.

Batman rises, ready to confront whatever ghosts will taunt him in the shadows.

The world roars in her ears, and no matter how hard she tries, Cassandra can’t stop the erratic sequence of deep breaths that claw out her throat. For once she’s glad she’s not wearing her old costume. The mask reminded her too much of smoke inhalation and chains and-.

“Why?” She rasps in a throaty, breathless voice that has not escaped her for years. “Why would you do this?”

“Can’t a mother test the progress of her daughter?” Shiva replies coolly. Her stance gives off nothing, so Cassandra does not deign her a response.

“He went looking for me, you should know.”

Her head snaps up.

“He was curious. A unique girl who can read the body as if it were a book and a unique woman who can do the very same? An unlikely coincidence,” Shiva turns her head away, ducked down as if she had already admitted too much. “He asked me, if it was my choice to leave you with your father.”

“It wasn’t.”

Sandra nods.

“He told me that was, and I quote, ‘a load of shit’.”

“Sounds like Jason,” Cass mutters under her breath. A hush falls between them, not comfortable but not unwelcome either.

“It is not me you came here for,” Sandra says with such conviction that Cass can’t help but gape in her disbelief. Of course, she did. Shiva gave birth to her.

Before she can voice her thoughts, Sandra grasps her shoulder and wraps her arms around Cass.

“You’ll find your brother soon. I can promise you that.”

Gotham rumbles, her shock snaking through the crown of her scalp. She knows that tonight is the night; when events will pass and tear the whole city asunder. For better or for worse, she cannot tell.

But she is eager to find out for herself.

“Think that’s a wrap for tonight?” Jason asks quietly, almost inaudible over the Gotham rain. It’s the only coherent sentence he’s made in days, so Rose takes what she can get.

“Probably, you’re not shanghaiing me into grabbing groceries, right?”

“Maybe,” He chuckles, but even though his voice is filtered by their comms, she can tell it’s forced. “Anyone ever tell you how similar some of our problems are?”

“Really? You realised this just now?” Rose rolls her eyes because, honestly. “I mean, at least your dad isn’t some psycho assassin supervillain.”

“Aww, Rosie, making your old man sad. Truly, I’m hurt,” Hues from orange and blue armour melt from the shadows as Deathstroke emerges, eyeing her. “You don’t wear the uniform like Grant did.”

“It’s not meant to and either way, I barely knew him or Joey.” She draws her blades, trying to hide how much her arms are shaking. It doesn’t help. “No thanks to you.”

“Is that Slade?” Jason’s voice is like music to her ears, relaxing her muscles in the ways she needs.

“I made your brothers stronger,” There’s an edge to Slade’s voice, sharp as the glistening blade he brandishes. Ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. “I suggest you come with me so you can be the same.”

“What, dead because of problems you caused?” She laughs shakily, grimacing under her mask. “I suggest you fuck off.”

“I’m coming, Rose.”

“No can do. There’s a hit on the two of you, and its fait accompli,” Deathstroke makes a ‘what-can-you-do?’ gesture and Rose darts forward, her tears faster than the raindrops that dance on her skin.

Batman has followed the Red Hood for hours now, and he has no idea what to think. He expected someone wielding the Joker’s former identity to be as insane as the Clown Prince himself. Yet, the red helmet only bobs up and down as if it were in conversation rather than rotating listlessly.

Despite how antithetical the new face in Gotham is to his beliefs, some actions catch him off guard about the man.

While he has seen no deaths on this patrol, with every bone the criminal breaks, the same hands offer food to street children and escort working girls to their homes. Bruce is thrown, viscerally, into a memory of the bird that flew beside him to do the very same.

The Dark Knight watches him stalk through Park Row, freeze and then take off in another direction.

It is time.

He pursues the criminal, sprinting across the rooftops of Gotham, gliding above catwalks and fire escapes. Within minutes, he overtakes and blocks the path ahead of Red Hood, who curses and vaults over his body.

Or at least, he tries to as Batman grips the man’s ankle and slams him back into the pavement. Hood never misses a second, drawing a knife and swiping at his limbs. He lets go; the man faces him again, twirling the knife round and round.

“B,” A modulated voice hangs in the air, but there is a quality to it that tickles his conscious, like an old ghost whispering in his ears.

“Red Hood, I suggest you surrender peacefully, or I –.”

“Cut the act, alright? You think that just because you’re Batman, nobody can be above you,” Red Hood laughs. Through the modulator of his helmet, it comes off as hollow. “The truth with a saying like that –.” The knife is stowed away. “– It just means nobody is beneath you either.”

The criminal grapples him; kick, jab, punch, kick again in a rapid dance of attacks that Bruce can barely keep up with. Some of the criminal’s movements are achingly familiar yet so foreign that the composite form nauseates him. Red hood strikes over and over until he actually has him, the Dark Knight, pinned.

“And some of us can’t wait to drag you all the way down.”

Jason had always had a gift for speaking. His sister’s hands may be knives, but his words were bullets.

Breaking out of the Red Hood’s hold, that is what Bruce muses in his mind.

They’ve been at a game of cat and mouse for so long now. Locked in a chase of diving and darting around a maze of alleyways and rooftops. Jason drops on one of them and turns to face his pursuer, who draws short away from him.

“What, can’t work it out?” He triggers the seals on his helmet as he lifts it off. Without the lenses he can see, even in the rain, the second Bruce recognises him. “You really didn’t care enough to remember my name or something?”

“Jason,” Bruce’s tone gives off nothing and everything. “W-Why are you doing this? How are you –.”

“I’m doing this because you refuse to do what needs to be done.” Jason snarls, venom laced in every word. “You want to rule them by fear, but you never go any further with the ones who aren’t afraid.”

“Jason, I don’t under-.”

“I died for your cause, and in less than a year you shove some other kid in the uniform so he can die too!” He is raving now. He also doesn’t care. “You let my murderer run wild and slaughter thousands and when someone finally steps up to do what needed to be done, you cut her out?”

“I had to –.”

“Had to what? Isolate her? Run her out of the only family she’s ever known? She was my sister, my whole fucking world; who believed in you and you left her like she means nothing to you! Cass is gone now, and that is your fault!”

“If you would –.”

“Do you even remember? That the only thing I ever made you swear to me, that you vowed on your life, was that you’d never let her down?” For once this night, his voice isn’t angry or vicious. It is a void, detached from any feeling. “Guess I should have known better.”

He knows, almost intrinsically despite the years, that if there is one thing that Jason has said tonight, those are the words that pierce Batman’s defences. It’s why he lets Bruce rush forward like he wants to. Allows the chase to continue. When he jumps, Jason lands in an apartment that carries the same bloodstains that leaked down his mother’s arms a lifetime ago.

Black Bat arrives in Gotham, and superficially, it is empty. She almost hails Barbara when bright flashes shine in her peripheral vision. Lo and behold, Deathstroke and an unknown are locked in a duel below her.

Cassandra drops from above, and at that moment, she kicks Deathstroke into a wall hard enough to knock him unconscious. His opponent, she notices, stops immediately.

Before her is a girl, hair silver under the moonlight, garbed in orange and black.

Then the Batmobile rounds the corner, a small figure rising from the hatch.

"Black Bat," Robin says, "You have not responded to Oracle, she was-."

Damian's eyes bug out once he notices the girl beside Cassandra. She fully expects him to snarl or draw his ridiculously long katana. Instead, uncharacteristically rushes forward and embraces the girl tightly instead.

"Wilson. A-are you finally assisting us in Gotham?" Damian says, even with his head buried in a shoulder. "Drake may be intelligent, but his incompetence with the sword is impossible to rectify."

"Missed you too, D-man," The girl chuckles and ruffles the boy's hair. "I would help, but what’s up with tall, slim and broody over there?"

Cassandra crosses her arms expectantly at Robin, who obviously only just remembered her presence when he unlatches himself immediately. His cheeks may be red, but Damian still raises his chin proudly.

"I found her, Rose," His body language and eyes seem to sing. "I found his ukht."

The girl spins sharply, wolfish eyes drawn wide. “You’re her,” Rose breathes, awe rippling off her body. “You’re Cass.”

She would have flinched, but the body language is so familiar. Cass tilts her head.

“Yes.”

Rose grabs her arm so hastily that she almost rips it back in shock. But something is so honest about her body language that Cass relents, letting the girl lead her where she is needed.

He kneels, tracing the dark stains. Behind him, Batman pauses. Not even he would dare to disturb the sanctity of this room.

“Jaylad, please -.”

“Don’t call me that. That isn’t who I am,” Jason rounds on Bruce. He gestures to the shattered window, the ripped upholstery, and the bloodstained floor. “This is what I grew up being, what I never wanted anyone else to.”

He taps the insignia on Bruce’s chest with his pistol.

“That, right here, was your promise to people like me. People that needed help and protection,” He spits. “And you couldn’t even do it for the ones closest to you.”

"I just want to-."

"Want to what? Parade your antiquated sense of morality to hide, while the rest of the world suffers for what you refuse to do? Or cast out others from taking it in their own hands?"

Tears are building in his eyes, but he wipes them away while Batman stands ramrod straight.

"I don't think you understand. That you've never understood," The man begins, and Jason gapes because what the hell does that mean? "If I let myself cross that line, even for Joker, I won't ever come back."

"You know what I think about that, Bruce?" Jason breathes deeply, feeling the whispers of the Pit roaring with the heavy rain in his ears. "I think that's a huge self-aggrandizing load of bullshit."

He charges forward, knocking Batman's legs from under him and ramming his face into the ground. Batman is down to his knees before either can even blink.

"And I'm so fucking tired of hearing it."

Jason levels the barrel at Bruce’s forehead, torbernite lining the edges of his vision, engulfing him in an absence.

“What’s the use of you learning to do right when it’s troublesome to do right?”

Then, her voice shatters the tension in the air, gripping his heart and silencing the susurrations of the rain that suffocated his ears.

“When it ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same.”

“Cass?” The boy in the alleyway says. A gun. An apple in his hand. The girl falters in the doorway, her fist tongue clenches, and she nods.

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I Wanted Believe in Steven (A Critical Steven Universe Post)

Steven Universe, a popular show that has won the hearts of so many people. It had good songs, talks about mental health and relationships, a lovable cast of characters and it’s revolutionary for representing LGBT. As the show finally wraps up with Steven Universe: Future being the series finale, I want to say this… I used to believe in Steven Universe. I truly got into it when it first came out and then I started to appreciate it more as the show progressed even with the flaws. However, as time moved on, the show’s flaws have outweighed the strengths, making my enjoyment decline and become critical and nitpicky towards it. So I believe it’s time to point out the many problems with the show.

The Glory Days of Steven Universe

Before I begin ranting about the show, I want to talk about when I actually liked Steven Universe back in seasons 1-3. It was when everyone actually enjoyed the show before it went downhill.

- So before Steven became really annoying, I actually liked him when he was developing in season 1. He was very immature at first but he gradually grew. He became a member of the Crystal Gems and finally summoned his shield.

- Peridot’s redemption was handled very well and I enjoyed her character throughout the whole show.

- The show once balanced filler and plot.

- I enjoyed the Crystal Gems chemistry back in seasons 1 - 3. They acted like a family with Garnet being the wise guardian, Pearl being overprotective, Amethyst laidback and Steven maturing.

- The songs are great.

- The messages are relatable such as “Love Letter.” Garnet tells Jamie that love-at-first-sight doesn’t work. It takes time and a lot of work. You must know the person first before you begin to love someone.

Those are the reasons why I enjoyed the show back in the day. Now it’s time to talk about how the Crewniverse messed up everything.

Inconsistencies. Are. Everywhere

Steven Universe is well known for having no consistency and that’s one of the major problems with the show. While I can forgive season 1 animation because let’s face it, not every show has good animation like Phineas and Ferb. Though having characters go off-model consistently gets really irritating to watch. It’s irritating because most of them are professional storyboard artists and yet they’re doing a very sloppy job.

The reason behind unprofessional animation is Rebecca Sugar wanted her crew to have artistic freedom and have their own stylistic choice. They can draw whatever they want as long as the viewers can recognize the characters. There are many problems with this.

While it’s nice to see the artist's own style it doesn’t work with a cartoon that’s story-driven. You’ll probably argue that some shows like Adventure Time and American Dragon go off-model. However, it’s just redesigned and they stick with it till the very end of their respective series.

Also, shows like Ren and Stimpy and Flapjack go off-model because for comedic effect.

So stylistic choice doesn’t mean artists can draw whatever they want. It means that a character has their own style.

Terrance and Philip from South Park

Elmore characters from The Amazing World of Gumball

Each of them has a unique character design. It’s not the Korean animator's fault for it, they’re given what the Crewniverse drew, trace it and just animate it and they can’t fix their errors. What makes it upsetting is that animation pilots and shorts made by a single person or independent team with very little funding have more consistent and appealing animation than Steven Universe.

I ain’t an animator, but I know when animation goes off-model. Sadly, it’s not just inconsistent art that the show suffers from, but inconsistent writing and discontinuity as well.

Such as in “Are You My Dad?” Aquamarine and Topaz knocked out Steven and then she abandoned him while they took Lars, Sadie, Onion, Jamie, and Connie. Then in “I Am My Mom” they lure him and The Crystal Gems out for information to find Greg. So if you wanted to get information to find him, why didn’t they just grab him when he was knocked out?

Also, why did Aquamarine agree to Steven’s terms? Her wand is the most broken weapon in the show. She could’ve grabbed everyone including The Crystal Gems.

Garnet couldn’t tell Steven about her future vision because it wanted him to go more? If she just told him about Greg's capture, he would have understood. Also, she gave him future visions in “Jailbreak,” “Snow day” and “Future Boy Zoltron.” Why didn’t she do that for that kind of situation?

The Crystal Gems, who have special abilities, summon weapons and powers that fought Gems and Corrupted Gems and yet they were beaten by a freaking Steven Catus, Really?

We saw Lapis control the freaking ocean in “Mirror Gem”, “Ocean Gem” and “Why So Blue”, so why didn’t she use that to remove the injector?

After 6,000 years of waiting for Pink Diamond, Spinel got news about her Diamond and that she gave up her physical form to give birth to Steven. It changed her appearance from happy go lucky to edgy. Now she wants vengeance. So I’m wondering how was she able to get an injector and a scythe, then go to Earth in under a few hours?

In “Giant Woman,” Pearl explains that two gems have to decide to fuse together and they have to sync with each other to do it. In “Change Your Mind,” Steven fuses with the Crystal Gems midair while they are in their gem state.

How the hell did Connie get affected by Blue Diamond’s pathokinesis when Lapis Lazuli arrived in “Reunited”?

She was fine when BD did it the first time.

Mean Lapis and Bluebird are still on the loose. I know most shows leave things unanswered but you can’t leave two villains out there. They can still do harm to others

I really wish the Crewniverse showed more professionalism because there are so many errors in the show and some of them are so simple to fix, yet they don’t and that’s what I call lazy.

The Cast of Characters Don’t Do Much

I used to like the cast of characters, even the humans I enjoyed watching. When season 4 - Future came in, they got ruined. Most of them don’t do much in the show. I feel like they got sidelined because the Crewniverse had no idea what to do with them.

Let’s first talk about The citizens of Beach City and how they are the most boring characters in the show. At first, they weren’t so bad because they did have a role to play in the story like when The Cool Kids talked to Steven about his mother when he found out that she was a war criminal and he blamed himself for his mother not being around anymore. They also helped him not get scolded by The Crystal Gems when they found Peridot’s escape pod.

There’s even some slice-of-life episodes that I did enjoy watching such as

“Sadie’s Song”

And “Historical Fiction”

But now they don’t react to any Gem situation anymore. They just stand around and serve no purpose to the plot. Look at “Future”, throughout the whole epilogue mini-series, the humans didn’t do a dang thing in the series. For example, The Cool Kids, Lars, Sadie, and Shep don’t talk to Steven about his mental health when he was about to crush them with his force field. It just makes it feel that they don’t care about him or oblivious about that experience

Then they didn’t do squat when Steven became a monster and I know they're just humans but their friends and the show focus on them a lot, so they have to use them. It made me wonder why they even focus on them in season 4 and season 5 if they're not going to serve their purpose in the story.

Now let's talk about the more interesting characters and how the Crewniverse wasted them. Many Gems and few human characters (Lars, Greg, Connie) get them characters to grow, face struggles and have moments that can make a character likable. After all that, the Crewniverse had no idea what to do so they just left them.

Peridot’s redemption was well written. from season 1 - season 3. From a villain that has unknown technology and feels more alien than the Crystal Gems to a member of the Crystal Gem. As much as I love her development and she’s my favorite, however, she doesn’t do much in the show. Most shows that give a lot of development to a character are part of the main cast but in Steven Universe's case, she gets put in the barn with Lapis Lazuli and does nothing. She’s never involved in major story arcs such as she didn’t come along to help Steven to get his dad back in Zoo Arc and didn’t help with beach city citizens getting kidnapped in Wanted Arc.

Even in the Pink Diamond Arc, she has no part to play. All she was in that arc was a punchline and a hyperactive character with no defining moments. While it’s nice she has a new outfit, it doesn’t change anything.

Peridot had the potential to be a really great character but she got wasted because they had no idea what to do with her.

Pearl and Garnet never got their own character arc. When they fused with Steven to become Rainbow Quartz 2.0 and Sunstone it was rushed. I know they didn’t have time to do their arcs but if they cut townie episodes and focused on their bond it would’ve felt more impactful for him to fuse with them. Season 4 could’ve been Garnet and Season 5 could’ve been Pearl. Just look at Amethyst where she finds mutual respect and love for Steven and that’s really great to see. With them, we don’t have a moment like that.

A good example of using characters is Regular Show. They used their characters pretty well, giving each of them a good amount of screen time.

Benson’s drum solo

Getting to know more about Skips history

Muscle Man setting his ashes free at Great Trucker Graveyard

High Five Ghost reunited with his love interest

Pop’s proving that he’s part of the guys for Guys Night

Rigby graduates high school

Mordecai painting for Benson

And what I like the most about is they all have a moment together as best friends. Such as in “Parkie Rewards,” although Benson doesn’t win an award, the gang made their very own award and paper trophy. Benson made a speech about how he appreciated his staff workers.

I really wish Steven Universe had something like that and I really wanted to see more of Lapis, Garnet, Amethyst, and Bismuth but sadly the writers aren’t giving them much to do anymore.

A Shift of Pacing

Steven Universe really wants to tell a story like most cartoon shows are doing such as Over the Garden Wall, Adventure Time, Owl House and many more. They keep adding episodic episodes in the middle of unresolved conflict and have the concluding rushed. An example of this is the Cluster arc.

Peridot tells The Crystal Gems that the Cluster will emerge at any time… AT ANY TIME! So the gang planned to create a gem drill to destroy it to save the Earth. So instead of working on the drill, they kept delaying it like

Garnet told her story to Steven of how Ruby and Sapphire met

Celebrating Steven’s birthday

Peridot processing on becoming a “Crystal Gem”

I know Peridot was working on the drill and I like Peridot’s redemption but it’s a life or death situation. You can’t do other things when the Cluster can emerge at any time. The way they resolved the arc was really rushed. The Crystal Gems finally locate the whereabouts of Malachite and so Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl go to Watermelon Island and fuse to Alexandrite to defeat her. Then the Cluster emerges and it’s up to Steven and Peridot to deal with it. Instead of destroying the Cluster, he talks to it and it stops itself from emerging by bubbling itself. The way the writers conclude the arc was so anticlimactic and rushed. It ended two major plots, Malachite and Cluster in two episodes and Steven just talking to it was ridiculous. The Cluster arc should’ve at least had two episodes and Malachite should’ve come after the event because she was briefly mentioned in three episodes.

Adventure Time has a mini-series that primarily focuses on plots. It resolves conflicts and it doesn’t waste any time such as Islands, Stakes, and Elements.

People tend to blame the network for the inconsistent schedule and hiatus. While it may be true, however, it’s not really a big issue with the show. Gravity Falls isn’t consistent with its schedule but it has better pacing than Steven Universe. From Nov. 26, 2014 - Feb 16, 2015, the ep “Northwest Mansion Noir” was released, another month of waiting for “Not What He Seems.” Then we have to wait for four months, July 13th, 2015, for “The Tale of Two Stans.” Then there’s Steven Universe where we have to wait for six months for the next episode and it is just Towney episodes and it doesn’t even matter to the plot. So I pretty much don’t understand why people are complaining about the Steven Universe hiatus when Gravity Falls, a well-written show, has a hiatus as well.

They could’ve had a well-written story if only they weren't so focused on the human side of Steven and cut most of the filler out.

Action Doesn’t Have Consequences

In most shows, movies, and video games, characters will make rash decisions that have other characters disagree and even have a bit of a falling out.

Look at Gravity Falls “Land Before Swine.” Stanley doesn’t like Mabel’s pet pig, Waddles, and he left him outside when there was a Pterodactyl in town. Stan left Waddles unattended and caused him to get captured.

Soos messed up a lot in the episode. Without thinking, he barged in as Dipper developed the film which ruined a good picture of the dinosaur.

He tries to be optimistic when Mabel finds out Stanley left him out however it ineffective when he ravels the yarn back up and thus cut the clear path and accidentally break the lamb

To prove their worth is by Stanley fights the pterodactyl to save Waddles

And Soos and Dipper make up when he apologizes and he admits he made mistakes. Dipper and Mabel then took Soos advice to follow his lead and walk in a straight line as for dinosaurs' eyes are so far apart and that it can’t see in front of itself and the plan went well.

So with Steven Universe, most characters in the show have done pretty terrible things and the show never atoned for their actions.

In “Island Adventure”, Sadie trapped Lars and Steven on an island by hid the Gem portal with leaves so she can hit on him. Although she saved his life by poofing the gem monster with a pointy stick, it doesn’t help the fact that she trapped them for a month! It is also idiotic that the show treats Lars as he’s the bad guy where in reality, Sadie is!

Amethyst, although I do like her character development in the show, however, she did pretty a messed up thing and they never resolved it. In “Maximum Capacity”, Greg finds out that he’s missing the fireworks and Amethyst shapeshifts from Steven to Greg to cheer him up. She changes back and gets mad at him for not spending time with her. So she shapeshifts to Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond which causes Greg to look away and it’s the second time she has done it, and then Steven comes in to stop and question both of them. Amethyst feels guilty and left. So in order to make things up, she came up with an idea to clean that the Crystal Gems can clean out Greg storage. So this is really messed up. She shapeshifted as his wife and not only it scarred Greg but Steven as well and yet the writers never decided on how they can properly make it up. That’s so horrible.

Lapis Lazuli took the Earth's water, almost killed Connie, broke Peridot's tape recorder and called it garbage, and she took the barn. When she finally comes back to help the Crystal Gems to fight against the Diamonds. Her response to everyone was “hey”. She never apologized for anything she has done. I know she has PTSD but it doesn’t excuse her actions.

The only character that actually feels guilty and has to make amends of her wrongdoing is Pearl. She deceived Garnet by keeping rebuilding Gem communicator so she can fuse with her to form Sardonyx to make herself feel better. Steven and Amethyst find out and spill the beans which gets Garnet mad and Pearl feels guilty. In the last episode of the Sardonyx arc, they get trapped by Peridot. When they were about to get crushed, they two finally talk and Pearl apologizes to her and calls herself “just a pearl” and Garnet tells her you are your own gem and that makes her feel better and fused to Sardonyx once again.

Now it’s time to talk about the second major gripe with the show that everyone has and it’s the Diamonds being redeemed. The Diamonds are tyrannical fascist dictators that caused genocide many species, colonized many worlds, corrupt gems, shatter gems that don’t obey, have an army, gems that are off-color are put to the underground, and force fused shattered gems into a Cluster. After what they have done, you think they need to pay, right? Unfortunately, since Rebecca Sugar said ``there are no villains' ' and the show is about empathy, the Diamonds, especially White Diamond, get a clean slate. So it’s fine to have a villain be sympathetic and have a sad backstory, it makes them more human but having them redeemed is something you should never ever do, especially what they’ve done. They have very little screen time to show their development and have doubts about their empire.

Then they made them worse when in Steven Universe: “The Movie” and “Future”

In Steven Universe: “The Movie”, The Diamonds become clingy aunties to Steven and tell them don’t do evil things anymore like calling other species “equal lifeforms”, disband their arms and not shatter gems.

In Steven Universe: “Future”, The Diamonds abilities have a completely opposite effect towards Gems such as

Yellow Diamond’s ability to change from poofing gems to fixing

Blue Diamond’s ability to change from sad blue orbs to happy blue clouds

White Diamond's ability changed from manipulation to control her for a brief moment.

Having them become good and having emotions won’t cut it. They can’t atone for what they’ve done for the past millions of being fascist dictators and just saying “I’m a good Diamond now” can’t wipe away their past actions. It doesn’t work like that!

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic, A SHOW FOR LITTLE GIRLS, have a better-written villain redemption than Steven Universe and I ain’t kidding. Discord was the main antagonist for “Return of Harmony”. All he wanted to do is cause chaos. He was defeated by the mane six at the end of the second part of the episode.

In season 3, “Keep Calm and Flutter On”, Discord was reformed by Fluttershy because Princess Celestia believes he can be a good ally and knows that she can do it.

Throughout season 4, everyone still doesn’t trust him even though he’s friends with Fluttershy.

In the season 4 finale, he sided with Tirek and he betrayed them because he thought he’ll be rewarded for it.

Then he was betrayed by him. After Tirek and Twilight fought, she gave up her magic to save her friends, including Discord. It made him realize that friendship is more precious than anything of what he’ll give him and that’s when he’s been fully accepted as a friend to the mane six.

I also want to talk about Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond. While many fans in the community and the Crewniverse always point that she’s terrible and I agree she is. Such as leaving Spinel for 3,000 years, cracked her first Pink Pearl, abandoned her Diamond duties to be free, started a Gem war that cost many Gems to shatter to pursue her own goal, bubbled Bismuth, gems got corrupted, and left Steven with the burden. It is indeed bad but when compared to the Diamonds, she’s more of a saint than them. At least she does develop, doesn’t shatter gems and save the Earth from the Diamonds.

With story pacing being all over, villains and even characters aren’t paying for their actions and a cast of characters aren’t doing much, what’s the most problematic of the show? Well, it’s a combination of all my problems into one and that is…

Steven “Center Of” Universe

The major problem with the show, the one that brings down the show a lot and it’s Steven Omnipresence. First off, I don’t mind when a show has a protagonist point-of-view like Ben 10, Phineas and Ferb, Over the Garden Wall, etc. As long as it's written well and keeps the story moving, it’s fine but with Steven Universe, it has tons of problems. Steven's point-of-view is the cause of all its flaws and I can’t stress it enough about it.

So let’s first talk about the obvious one and how it’s only Steven's perspective. The problem with this is we only see things if Steven is there to witness it. The show introduces a fascinating world of Gems and yet the show doesn’t dive into that because Steven doesn’t care about and all he does is hang around Beach City. Steven will never explore unless he chooses to and some major plot points are offscreen which you should never do, especially it’s a story-driven show. An example of this is “Wanted Arc’” and yes I’m using it the third time as my example because it really is a terrible arc. When Steven comes back home, he had some information about Homeworld, discovered that there’s a mystery about Pink Diamond shattering, Off Colours, Steven can bring back people from the dead and Lars in space. With all that, what does Steven do? Nothing. Throughout his adventure in space, he never mentions it to the Crystal Gems and instead of that being the main focus, it’s townies and Connie. While Steven is doing Beach City fluff, Lars is actually progressing the plot by him developing and escaping Homeworld with the Off Colours. I truly wonder why the Crewniverse believes that Beach City is more important than Gems?

They got interesting lore and I truly want them to explore it more but they had to waste all that and have the most major plot points be offscreen for Steven's perspective.

The second problem with Steven p.o.v is his contestant presence. The show will always be about him, no other characters get the spotlight or do anything unless he’s there. There’s rarely a scene that doesn’t have Steven and it’s frustrating when there’s a well-rounded cast of characters that I want to see more than him. We’ll never see them interact with other characters nor explore different parts of the world. Other shows have done it such as

Amazing World of Gumball - “The World”

Adventure Time - “Varmints”

Avatar: The Last Airbender - “Zuko Alone”

Rick and Morty - “Tales From the Citadel”

Imagine how great it will be if explore more of the cast like

Uncorrupt Gem characters and Curley Lapis going by their day in Little Homeschool.

Lars becoming a space pirate

Lapis and Peridot becoming friends

Pearl meeting up with Mystery Girl

Volleyball recovering from her trauma

Ruby and Sapphire being their own individuals

They got a lovable cast of characters that I want the show to further explore and yet the Crewniverse don’t do anything with them and that’s such a missed opportunity.

Then the third most egregious problem with Steven p.o.v is he’s the communicator. The show tries to message that talking things will work but no one really talks to each other unless it’s Steven. Characters barely make their opinion or a chance to speak for themselves while Steven's opinion will and shall always be in the right and we barely see characters talking to one another. Examples of these are…

When Steven bubbles Bismuth, Pearl and Garnet don't say a thing and just let him. They don't question why he did or lash him out for it. They just went along with it. Steven decided to unbubble her in “Made of Honor “ for a wedding without talking to anyone else about it and again, they still haven’t asked questions and they just went along with it.

In “Reunited”, instead of Crystal Gems look at each other to find their strength like Garnet telling Pearl she’s her own Pearl, Pearl telling Amethyst she’s isn’t an accident, and they tell Garnet that she’s a great leader, Steven has to remind them what they are supposed to be.

Blue and Yellow had issues with the Gem Empire but too afraid to say to White Diamond. Until Steven arrived and that’s when they tried talking to her.

The Diamonds become good because Steven tells them being a fascist dictator is bad and they agree. They disbanded the Gem Empire and changed their abilities to help Gems under two years.

Steven made Pearl talk to Amethyst.

The message the show tries to tell that people should communicate is completely flawed because rather than have other characters improve their lives by talking to one another, they made Steven the messiah that every character looks up to. Steven will change your mind and you have no choice in the matter.

Conclusion

With the end of Steven Universe, I want to say that this show could’ve been better. Steven Universe was created by Rebecca Sugar, a former storyboard artist for Adventure Time and the one who mainly writes episodes about Marceline and wrote songs for the show. When she announced that she's left AT to make her show, I was excited and had such high hopes for it. I really want this show to succeed and it could’ve been the next Adventure Time, My Little Pony Friendship is Magic or Gravity Falls but sadly it failed to do so. The show flaws outshined it the strength by it was handled unprofessionally, wasted their characters, the pacing is all over the place, no character pay for their past actions and Steven’s point-of-view. I don’t think it’s the worst show I’ve ever watched nor a masterpiece, it's just a disappointingly average show in my personal opinion. I hope Rebecca Sugar and her crew not just see this as their progressive show by representing LGBT and messaging but also see what they would have approved of on the show and how they could’ve made it better. I had a lot of good memories when I first watched the show. It had the potential to be better but it never filled the promises they made.

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katcadecascade · 3 years

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Road to Home (RWBY fic)

Summery: Rhodes reaches the Glass Unicorn at 11:40pm because someone asked him, “So who’s at home for you?”

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Volume 8 Chapter 6

aka my take on Cinder’s backstory AU

“So who’s back home for you?”

Rhodes kind of hates his name. It’s almost like cruel irony or a bland destiny to always be traveling, constantly on the move, and never staying too long in one place.

“No one. I don’t really have a place to return too.”

He believed that’s just how his life is as a hunter of Grimm. It feels like he’s always taking one mission after the next, a pattern that takes him across the kingdoms. All alone, it’s easier that way, efficient Rhodes believes.

It’s a cold truth he concluded on after his team parted. Talk about a crossroads.

“Hmm.”

Yet every once in a while there’s a hunt that demands many hunters. An abnormally large nest of Nevermores in Vale. If he had the option, Rhodes wouldn’t have joined. The path he wanted to take is the one that’ll take him back to Atlas, all the way back to Cinder.

She’s a tough kid in a not so good situation. That’s all Rhodes can really say on the matter, what with the loose child labor laws and the old reputation that keeps that hotel running. Look, Rhodes ain’t the man for critiquing ethics and socialism, especially Atlas and Mantle of all places.

Still though, he did what he thought was best for Cinder. Train her in secret, visit monthly if possible, and not take her with him. The life of an active huntsman who’s constantly traveling is not ideal for a kid to tag along. At least in the Glass Unicorn, Cinder is under a roof and away from the Grimm.

Or at least that’s what Rhodes keeps telling himself.

Each day he’s away from the girl, he tries to come up with another reason as to why he should not just up and take Cinder with him. For obvious reasons, it’s kidnapping. Then there’s the whole issue of his entire life is not child friendly.

No home for Cinder to be warm in. No extended family that can keep an eye on her when he’s away. No teammates…

And yet last month's visit, there was hesitation on his tongue, wanting to ask if she wanted to accompany him. It’s an outrageous idea, tactless and unreasonable. Training her for the academy entrance exams is the smarter play, a long one but way smarter than just thrusting Cinder onto the road with him of all people.

Rhodes is not the most upstanding role model to look up to, no less having to travel with. Imagine his surprise when a kid looks at him with starry, wide eyes. He doesn’t deserve any of that, not sure if he ever will, yet he kept training her. He kept returning to Atlas for Cinder.

“What’s that humming supposed to mean?”

There’s not many people for Rhodes to return to, even less if anyone ever wanted him in the first place. Cinder is the exception though, his mind excuses. She doesn’t know the mistakes he made, the suffering or aftermath.

In due time, the academy would give her a better life, not him. Just gotta stay in this waiting game, for Cinder’s sake.

“It means that I think you’re lying.”

That’s a long road he’s forcing Cinder to walk. For the longest time, Rhodes believed that was the only course of action for Cinder when really it’s just the path of least resistance. All because he is a coward stuck in the crossroads.

“...Fine. There’s this kid I look out for, that’s all.”

All the excuses he accumulated began the moment he saw Cinder in that dusty storage room. Of course she’s miserable and of course he pities her. Rhodes wasn’t the strategist of his former team, nor was he the heart. He was just the tank, master of waiting for the perfect moment, and the one who ends up walking a long road all alone.

It’s stupid of him to think Cinder should endure it all alone. It’s collassily ignorant of him to give her attention and leave the next day and think that’s proper teaching. It’s akin to constantly relighting a candle wit. One day there will be nothing left to spark.

“That so? It sounds like you must care a lot about her. She must miss you too.”

It took too long for Rhodes to think that maybe his interference has made Cinder’s life worse. He gave her a direction, a goal to reach the academy, a dream of freedom on the open road. Hope can be a powerful and dangerous thing.

Rhodes knows first hand how devastating it can be when hope ends out. He can outlast a storm, a horde of Grimm, nearly anything but that’s no guarantee for the people around him. This always lingers in his head when he’s out on bigger missions with a group of hunters.

“She’s not mine.”

This particular Nevermore hunt had a few familiar faces for Rhodes, all of whom he’d avoided. Then by luck he was caught by some of the newer graduated hunters, probably with only three or five years of experience. Not the ideal team up but the less he complains the quicker they complete the objective.

If only that white hooded huntress wasn’t so talkative and observant. If only she didn’t dig into his vague words and made him think. If only he had learned all of this months early for Cinder’s sake.

“My boyfriend has a baby girl at home. I might not be her birth mother but I will always see her as my daughter.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

There’s a knowing glint in those silver eyes. “You look like you’re eager to return home.”

Rhodes couldn’t get that line out of his head. Eagerness is a burden on long trips, it’s the annoying sibling to waiting, and it’s the very thing on Cinder’s face whenever Rhodes enters the Glass Unicorn.

Eagerness is in his heart that first night after meeting Cinder. He wanted to return. He wanted to take less missions away. He wanted Cinder to finally leave that place.

Why did he insist on making her wait?

Each and every excuse he came up with nipped and lashed at his ankles on every step he took closer to Atlas. The Grimm hunt was dealt with at a near blinding speed and that huntress said she’ll cover for him on the post-hunt reports that he always hated.

For transportation to Atlas, Rhodes had to suck up his pride and call the only other teammate who’s not dead.

“You wouldn’t ask unless it’s an emergency, Rhodes. An airship will be at the airport in an hour.”

“Thank you Willow, I mean it.”

True to his former teammate’s words, the huntsman was later in a private Schnee jet enroute to Atlas. If he was more reckless he would’ve hand it land right at the Glass Unicorn but attention was the last thing he wanted.

Once on the streets, he was practically retracing his steps all the way back to the hotel. Through the late night streets, up the steps and through the fancy lobby. At the reception desk, perfectly orderly is the woman of the establishment.

Her wrinkle lines move along with her cordially smile, prepared for greeting clients no matter the late hour.

Rhodes never thought of this madame in good graces. Rumor has it that the Glass Unicorn didn’t always have child servants back when the lady’s late husband was in charge. Under new management as the saying goes and the regular clients here didn’t bat an eye when the staff dwindled to one young employee.

It’s hypocrisy that he was a part of the silent crowd and only now does he actually react.

On previous visits, he’d always just booked a room and waited for the lobby to empty to get to Cinder. Right now though, Rhodes doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

Once upon a time, he had to brainstorm a myriad of lies to get Cinder out of the hotel. Excuses that range from she’s a missing link in a case or outright threatening to her to hand over Cinder. Well he’s not entirely sure how any of those scenarios would play out but it doesn’t matter in the end.

The mood in the air changes when two blonde girls come running out of the staff door. They’re both frightened out of their perfect composure.

“Mom, come quick, we found something.”

“It’s Cinder, she has a weapon!”

Their mother glares at her daughters and clicks her tongue once the sisters notice the client present.

“Leave,” she demands lowly, “now.”

The girls scamper off in another direction while the lady smooths down her skirt. One hand lingers inside the pocket.

“Pardon me, Huntsman Rhodes, I have to attend to the matter.”

She takes one step, one loud clack of her heels away from the reception desk and Rhodes knew that this was it. It had to be now or never.

“Wait,” Rhodes didn’t waste his movement, striding past the lady and blocking her path to the door. “It’ll be best if I go.”

Scowling as politely as possible, she argues, “Sir, I assure you that girl is absolutely under my control.”

“You’re awfully confident,” Rhodes snaps. This is taking too much time, who knows what’s Cinder doing right now.

“I am,” she raises her voice, not appreciating his attitude.

It looks like she’s about to lecture him about respect so he cuts her off. “I’m going in there, not you. Got it?”

He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making. Yes he’s angry and impatient and just wants this whole hotel gone. Something about him must have conveyed his true rage because the madame stands frozen, confusion and fear in her slacken jaw and how she took a step back.

Then he sees how her eyes flicker to something behind him.

On some sort of instinct, she took her hand out of her pocket. Clasped there is a remote with a yellow button, her thumb pressed down.

There’s a scream in his ears, a chilling shock down his spine as he turns around and sees Cinder at the doorway. She dropped the sword he gifted her and has one hand on the frame to support her shaking body as electricity rumbles and bites at her neck.

Rhodes never thought to ask why she had a fancy necklace. He wonder how stupid he is for failing to recognise lightning dust. He’s even more of a failure to be surprised that this is happening.

To add more evidence that Cinder has spent far too long in this hotel, Cinder grits her teeth and lets go of the doorframe. She starts limping over, the shockwaves going up and down her skin. Rhodes watches in horror and perverse awe before he hears a button getting mashed.

He grabs the madame’s wrist, snatching the remote out of her hand in seconds, and crushing it in a steel hand. It’s pathetically small help, clearly everything Rhodes has trained Cinder for was not the help she really needed.

There’s a momentarily delay in the remote’s signal as the shock collar continues. Cinder reaches a shaky hand up and rips the collar off, glaring at the source of all her pain.

“Cinder,” Rhodes interferes with her path but the girl is still glaring at the madame. “Let’s leave right now. You don’t have to stay here any longer.” He knees down to her, desperately wishing that the fire in her eyes won’t burn her up. “I’m sorry it took me this long to get you out.”

She still hasn’t looked at him. Yet at his apology tears start welling up. Cinder marches past him, stalking up to the madame who’s backed up against the frontdesk.

“Without you, I am nothing,” Cinder tells her and her tone sounds odd to the huntsman, like the words are warped around her tongue and teeth.

She thrusts her hand up, still holding the shock collar, and harshly presses it to the madame’s throat. In mere seconds, the metal is superheated in Cinder’s grip and the madame cries out, jerking away and falling sideways on the desk and then falling to the floor.

The madame clasps a hand around her neck but Rhodes saw the burnt skin there, diamond shaped like the collar’s centerpiece.

“But because of you,” Cinder hisses and throws the collar at the madame’s face, “I am everything.”

The girl is a heaving mess, her hands curling up and steaming.

“Cinder,” he calls and the girl’s whole body flinches.

Swirling around, Cinder angrily demands at him, “She deserves so much worse!”

“And you deserve better and you will get it all if we leave right now.” Rhodes begs her, “Please, will you come with me?”

Cinder quietly gasps at his question. Some combination of awe and surprise on her young face as she starts crying more.

He honestly doesn’t know if he can talk her out of murder, revenge realisticly. But if he can just take her away from this place then maybe she’ll choose otherwise. Maybe she’ll always want to kill these people but for right now, he needs to physically get away from these people.

The heat of her semblance dims from her hands as Cinder wipes the tears off her cheeks. She stumbles over to Rhodes and once close he hugs her tight. The girl bawls into his chest and Rhodes wastes no time to securely carry her in one arm.

He remembers to pick up Cinder’s fallen sword as he gets up. The madame on the other hand is still on the floor, trembling and confused but not making any motion to stop them. There’s a frantic wheezing coming from her too.

When she glares at them, Rhodes frowns back. “No one is going to ask about tonight, got it?”

The madame bitterly coughs and manages to croak out, “Leave.”

He lets her have the final word and marches out. Cinder got her breath back and has wide, teary eyes as they approach the doors. She squirms for a bit and he lets her down.

Standing on shaky legs, Cinder pushes open the doors with all her might. The wide swing of the doors shakes the frame but the girl doesn’t care. On her first step out of the hotel, the grandfather clock in the lobby rings twelve.

One step outside of the Glass Unicorn and Cinder felt like sobbing, running, and collapsing at the same time. Her hand squeezed tight onto Rhodes’ as she trembled against the midnight air. Its chill is heavenly on her overheated skin, an after effect from the electricity.

It’s all over now. She’s finally free from the madame and her hotel. Cinder just wants to run despite her straining muscles so she leans on Rhodes. He mumbles something about hurrying to the airport, hoping that a plane is still there but Cinder barely comprehends.

She’s actually free and Rhodes had wanted her to leave with him. Each visit, Cinder truly thought that he didn't want her around. The plan was for the academy, where he won’t have to deal with her but instead he actually asked.

Granted Cinder had wished he’d asked like the first night they met. Or maybe years earlier, that would’ve been good too. But here they are. It took her obnoxious step sisters to get too nosey and for Rhodes to finally be there at the right time.

Yet it still feels like Rhodes is late. The madame had one last play with the collar and Cinder wanted to finally end her. She can still feel the buzz in her neck.

Even though they’ve only walked down the street so far, Cinder feels too close and so far away from the Glass Unicorn. She feels like sobbing again.

“Hey, hey,” Rhodes moves his arm to comfortably enwrap her with warmth, “it’s okay now Cinder.”

A sob hitches in her throat and it’s like her semblance is burning her from the inside. Cinder doesn’t think she’s okay right now, she doesn’t believe she’ll ever be okay, but finally walking out of those pristine doors felt so good.

Somewhere in her thoughts, there’s the question on how it would feel like if she actually gave what the madame and her daughters deserved. At the same time, Cinder never wants to enter the Glass Unicorn even if her life depends on it. Which it does not though, she doesn’t ever have to be there again.

She’s finally freed.

That hopeful feeling gets lodged into her throat when suddenly a nice looking car pulls up in front of them. Rhodes holds her close as her heart hammers. Cinder can’t phantom what is going on as the well dressed driver exits and approaches them.

“Mr. Kolossos,” the man nods politely and when he looks at Cinder she flinches but he continues with another nod, “Miss.” He opens the backseat door and waves over, “This way please.”

“I didn’t call for a car,” Rhodes said and walked on, guiding Cinder away from the car.

As they’re passing the open car door, someone from inside scoffs, “Just get in here, Rhodes.”

In the nightlight, it’s hard for Cinder to see inside the car but she sees a feminine figure that matches the voice. Cinder can’t help but shake.

Rhodes on the other hand freezes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up unless you want to walk all the way to the airbay. The jet’s not there by the way.”

The huntsman huffs quietly but up close Cinder can see his lips barely form a smile. He catches her gaze and he winces. Rhodes pinches the bridge of his nose before whispering to her, “Cinder, I know you’ve been through a lot right now but do you still trust me?”

She doesn’t like the unsureness in his eyes, like she’s the one who will hurt him. Cinder knows there has been nights where she outright hates it when he leaves or his plan to wait seven years in that hotel. But every time he comes back, Cinder can’t help but want to hope that this time, she’ll join him.

And now it’s happening she knows that Rhodes is the only person she can rely on. If she’s on her own, well, she’ll have to be everything she needs. Cinder doesn’t know where that will take her but right now, she wants to stay with Rhodes.

“Yes,” Cinder tells him, squeezing his hand back.

“Thank you,” Rhodes smiles and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. Being thanked and stuff, especially over feelings. He looks back over to the car and huffs, “Fine, we’ll get in.”

Rhodes goes in first, still holding Cinder’s hand and worryingly looks between Cinder and the door closed behind her. Cinder kind of appreciates not being in the middle seat. Feeling trapped in a fancy enclosed position is too soon for her anxiety.

Still though, Cinder peeks behind Rhodes’ bulk to see the lady. The car starts up and when they’re passing under streetlights, Cinder sees white long hair of a woman only seen on TV.

“I never imagined this is what your emergency was about.”

“Well, I didn’t need to tell you Willow,” Rhodes said plainly.

Willow Schnee rolls her eyes and accidentally makes eye contact with Cinder. She presses her lips in a thin line, neither mean or annoyed, simply processing. Eventually she sighs and looks away, “You two need a place for the night. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay Rhodes and…”

The empty silence has Willow awkwardly glance back to her. Cinder has never seen an elegant lady look awkward before, it’s kind of odd.

“Cinder,” she fills in.

“Cinder,” Willow repeats. “Alright, well,” she sighs again, faces the front, “we’ll be at home soon enough.”

At that word, home , Cinder tenses and relaxes. Any place is better than the hotel. She leans into Rhodes’ side and closes her eyes.

Thanks for reading!

#rwby fic #rwby spoilers #rwby #cinder fall #rwby au

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slippinmickeys · 4 years

Text

Currahee

Her bathroom smells of verbena and linen with a very slight hint of mildew underlying all, about which she cannot bring herself to care. She used to light candles and listen to music when she bathed, but those days are past. The tub thunders to full behind her, adding a tidal brine to the air.

Mulder’s bathroom smells like toothpaste and Pert, and has a red rubber duckie with devil horns perched on the back of the toilet. She looks at it whenever she is in there, wonders if it ever floats with him in the tub. She has considered getting him an angelic duckie to balance the space, to tip the scales of his life a bit more towards the light.

Earlier in the day, she had stumbled while writing the word “success” in a report. No matter how many times spell check ran clean, the word did not look right on the screen. She’s reminded of that off-putting moment as she stares at her own reflection, dark smudges under her eyes and her fingers bare, loneliness writ large.

The temperature of the water in the tub behind her is almost volcanic, a light steam rising from it in the cool air of the bathroom. She gives herself one more look in the mirror before she steps into it.

She knows she is pretty, she isn’t so humble that she won’t admit it. But she is also short, dissentient—a redheaded iconoclast in a world populated by leggy brunettes easily impressed by Mulder’s handsome nous. She’s been making a fool of herself over him for years and she isn’t even his type.

She sinks her head under the water of the bath in fit of petulant ennui.

She wonders if she appears as spinsterish as she feels, if the checkout clerk views her meager dinner-for-one groceries and thinks how sad. Mulder may be ever present in every other stratum of her life, but her cupboards are all Dana Scully; slight, a little wanting, there but for her.

She shaves her legs with precision and care--as she approaches all things--but wonders what for, exactly. It is March, the month after her birth, and still pretty cold--she will likely not be wearing skirts. She supposes she shaves for herself.

After 30 minutes, the water begins to cool, the wind outside the bathroom window pushing branches into it, a dull clawing sound in the humid air. There is a spot of shaving foam drifting dreamily along the surface of the water and it finally glides into the top of her knee, clinging there.

Sometimes she thinks of her heart as a Christmas tree. At one point it had been bright, cheerful, full of hope and spirit. But time had worn it down, turned it brittle. She was afraid if she were to let someone touch it, it would fall to pieces in their hands.

She finally drains the bath and steps out, feeling slippery and oversaturated. Her bones feel like they weigh twice what they did when she got in.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He thinks of the gold-plated records on Voyager, afield in the endless vacuum of space, a blueprint of life on earth. It passed beyond the orbit of Pluto in 1990. It will be 40,000 years before it even approaches another planetary system. It is the culmination of humanity, and no bigger than a small car.

If you packed everything that mattered from his life into a vessel, it would be five feet and two inches of clomping skepticism, with a face that could send men to war and a sheath of carrot hair.

She wielded knives that sliced flesh from bone and dipped her head when she received a compliment. He’d long ago memorized the way her lips looked when she said his name.

As if the universe were listening to his thoughts, came, “Mulder.”

He shook his head from where he stood in the doorway of the morgue, and looked to her.

She pulled her mask down off her face and removed her protective goggles. She looked tired, worn out. She shook her head at him.

“Nothing,” she said, “absolutely no trace evidence whatsoever.”

He believed her. If there had been anything there, she would have found it.

He moved into the room and stood next to her, looking at the body, neatly sewn back up; her sutures straight and tidy--one last act of respect she could pay the dead.

He sighed, leaned on the cold examination table and then thought better of it, absently wiping his hands on the outside of his coat. She made a move to go around him.

“Excuse me,” she said, not impatiently, and he tried to get out of the way but bumped into her when she passed.

Mulder felt like a giant next to her, with his clomping feet and hulking frame. He was all elbows and knees and felt like he was taking up all the oxygen in the room.

A clutch of something like guilt squeezed his heart. Like sorrow.

You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your partner. She was out of bounds, forbidden fruit, impermissible. She wasn’t supposed to become so big a part of your life that you needed her like air.

Scully was scrupulous, a rule-follower—not like Mulder, the rebel in the basement. She always went the speed limit and picked up litter. She’d pulled his ass out of the fire more times than he could count. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your partner, and Scully always followed the rules.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, and she nodded, snapped off the latex.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Something compelled her out into the world that evening after she’d gotten home and showered the morgue off of her.

Once out of her front door, she was hit with the sweet smell of spring--daffodils coming to life in window boxes, chattering squirrels peeking out of trees. She felt a call to the river.

Georgetown didn’t have a Metro stop, so she got in her car, let it pull her toward the Potomac. Once across, she was in Virginia, and it was enough to know that he was there, too.

Past National Airport, she pulled into a parking lot filled with trucks and SUVs attached to empty boat trailers. There were sailboats bobbing in the inlet, people jogging, pushing strollers, rollerblading down the Mount Vernon trail. She joined them and walked and walked.

She found herself in Alexandria and let the pull of him carry her into the city. She stopped for dinner and a glass of wine on Duke Street, and she allowed herself to relax, sink into the chair, watch the people walking past just to see them--something she had not done in years. She saw a woman who looked like Melissa and remembered why.

She thought of her sister; of this world, but not in it, living on only in memory, in the hint of perfume on an old sweater, in the auburn curls of a stranger walking by.

After dinner, she went looking for quiet and found it in a cemetery nearby, some of the graves there older than the country itself. She sat on a bench as the sun went down. Despite the dusk, all around her, the city was coming to life. DC was shaking off its torpor and she felt like she was coming out of hibernation, herself. There was a moment where she thought of all the people who have ever lived—and died—were ever underfoot. The space above the ground is for the living, and she needed to start doing more of it.

She turned toward Hegal Place.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He was thinking about her, as he laid on his couch, unable to sleep. He was usually thinking about her.

A quick one-two knock came at his door, and when he opened it, she was there, as if thought could call a person across space and time.

“Scully,” he said with surprise, and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

“It’s late,” she said, as if she wasn’t the one that walked all the way to his apartment at 11:00pm.

“Come in,” he said, again.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She ducked under his arm, into the dark enclave of his apartment. It smelled like leather and fish tank and him.

She plopped on the couch, kicked off her shoes. The leather was still warm from his body heat.

“Everything all right?” he asked, lowering himself onto the other end of the couch.

She gave him a long look, considering.

“I don’t know,” she said, “is it?”

He stayed quiet, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Mulder, are you happy?” she asked him.

He raised a shoulder. “Sure,” he said.

“I believe you’re content,” she said, “but are you happy?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

He sighed, leaned back. She knew he took it as a personal affront.

“You want out,” he said.

“No,” she said, “that’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“What are you saying?”

She closed her eyes. She wasn’t even sure if she knew.

“I want… “ she started, looked at him, “I want more than a career. I want to live.”

She looked to his hands in his lap, at the finger the terrorists broke, his left pinkie, noticed how the knuckles in it were bigger and knobbier with calcified healing. Right next to his ring finger, she thought.

“Is that… do you…” he struggled, but at least he was trying to understand, she thought. “Does that mean you want to go skydiving or something?”

Her head fell back against the back of the couch. Why were they like this?

“I want a life, Mulder,” she said, “I want someone to come home to.”

“I understand,” he said, and she saw something pass over his face. “I want that for you, too.”

To hell with it.

“For God’s sake, Mulder, I want you.”

Contrary to her every expectation, Mulder stood from the couch and walked out of the room without a word.

Oddly, it didn’t bother or scare her. She wondered if he were trying to compose himself so he could let her down gently? Either way, she was no longer afraid.

After about a minute, she stood and went to look for him. He was not in the kitchen, nor his bedroom.

“Scully,” her name from behind her, close behind her, startled her, awoke something low in her belly. His whisper sounded like the night.

“Mulder,” she said, sharp and quick, and she was about to turn toward him when he stopped her--stepped right into her, his chest into her back. She could feel his breath puffing into her hair.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He tumbled into his bathroom and drew a deep breath. He tried to think of a way to give her an out. Deep down, he knew that a part of him was convinced that his love was a weapon that could only hurt people, but he is selfish and so far he has always been able to save her.

If she wanted him--wanted this, he was powerless to deny her.

She was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, doubtless looking for where he’d disappeared to. He approached her on silent feet. Whispered her name.

He startled her, he could tell, so he stepped up close, could feel her sharp intake of breath. After a moment, she turned to him, but didn’t step back. She looked up, a question in her eyes.

“Do you know the story of the 101st Airborne?” his voice was less than a whisper.

She quirked a grin. He knew she would.

He reached out and grabbed her face with both hands, ran his lips over hers, softer than butterfly wings. Rested his forehead against hers.

“Geronimo,” he said.

She gave a small laugh and he thought he could hear the shadow of relief in it.

Her hair shone like an old penny in the dusky glow of the street lamps outside his window.

She nodded at him, he nodded back.

Slowly, so slowly, he lowered his face until his lips met hers and pressed into them. She pressed back. Give, take. Everything they had ever been to each other and everything they ever would.

Geronimo.

#the x-files #fanfic #msr #my fic

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missluthorwillseeyounow · 4 years

Photo

Pry Open The Cage Bars (You’ll Find Me There)

Saskia x Red Daughter / Supercorp The 100 AU

Father leads her past the cages where dark shapes are huddled. Weapons, that’s what Father says they are. Children taken by the Commander, twisted and broken until there is nothing human left in them.

One of the dark figures in the cages shifts, and Kasnia pauses, her curiosity getting the better of her. She approaches the cage cautiously just as the shadows shift and the dim light reveals a child.

She is smaller than Kasnia, likely younger, and so covered in blood and dirt that it’s almost impossible to tell what color her complexion is. However, Kasnia can see a pair of bright green eyes peering at her from behind matted black curls.

Kasnia doesn’t come closer, afraid of what this ‘weapon’ would do. But she smiles tentatively at the other girl, “Hello.”

The other girl doesn’t respond, and Kasnia wonders if she can speak Trigedasleng. She wonders if the other child can even speak at all. The thought saddens her, and she reaches into her pocket.

Chocolate is her favorite treat, and a rarity. Father so rarely comes to Mt. Weather, but when he does and if he hears Kasnia has been good, he gives her a bar of her favorite chocolate. That makes it even more special to Kasnia.

Carefully, she breaks the chocolate bar in half. When she’s sure the other girl won’t attack her, she reaches through the cage bars and offers half of her chocolate to the little girl in the cage

“It’s my favorite.” Kasnia tells her in Trigedasleng.

“Kasnia!!”

From the end of the dim hallway, Father barks out her name sharply. It startles her, and she drops the chocolate into the dirt inside the cage. “Coming, nontu.”

Kasnia gives the other child an apologetic look before trotting over to Father. He looks at her oddly for a moment, and she shifts uncomfortably under his intense glare. When Father’s back is turned, just before she follows him out the door, she turns and gives the little girl a sad smile and one last little wave.

In the dark of the cages, a small hand picks up the chocolate from the dirt, and green eyes watch the door long after Kasnia leaves.

Basically, this AU was born because Brenda Strong is in both The 100 and Supergirl, and I’m thinking “oh perfect, let’s make Nia Lillian”, so I blame the excellent Miss Strong for this.

This AU actually begins in the Ark. When twins are born in the Ark, one is usually floated, or released into space. It’s considered a necessary measure of survival to conserve oxygen on the Ark, and a warning to those who would keep more than one child.

Twin baby girls are born to Alura and Zor El. To the family, it’s both a blessing and a curse.

Alura, however, refuses to have her second daughter floated, so they built a small capsule that could propel both Zor El and the baby to earth. They have no idea what would be waiting for them there, but it has to be better than the horrible death that she was marked for.

The capsule, by chance, lands in Azgeda territory. Zor El is killed upon impact, but the baby survives.

In Azgeda, Nia is Queen. She rules with an iron fist and maintains power through fear. More than that, she presents herself as a goddess, making her people see her as a diety – someone untouchable and fierce, someone they cannot defy, someone they will kill and die for.

She has two sons, Lex and Roan. Lex was the golden child, and Roan was the screw up

This is younger Lex, because I just cannot see Jon Cryer!Lex as Azgeda

Lex was beginning to come to his own. He had changed his name to Thorul and was amassing a following of Azgeda

He presents himself originally as a sort of rising hero for the Azgeda.

He convinces people that the Azgeda are a wild force of nature that are being restrained by the Coalition that is being forced on them by Lexa. He convinces many of them that they don’t need the Heda.

Queen Nia tolerates this for now because she resents being forced into a treaty with Lexa, and Lex is helping her curry favor with the people, and Nia needs her people on her side. However, she knows they have to stay int he Coalition because its forces are 13 clan-strong and too massive even for the Azgeda to overcome

Not only that, but a problem is threatening her image as a deity. Her husband had a dalliance with a Trikru woman, which resulted in the birth of twin girls. (yeah, this is a little far-fetched, I know, but stay with me)

Nia had her husband killed, and had the mother of his children tracked down and killed too. She had word put out that her husband died in a raid.

Both infants were seized and brought to her. She had them both examined, and found out that one of them was a Nightblood, and the other was not.

Now, Nia already had a Nightblood whom she kept secret in captivity, Ontari. She was trained day and night to be a bloodthirsty psychopath, deliberately isolated from people so she would not develop compassion or loyalty to anyone but her Mistress who fed and clothed her.

So, Nia sent the Nightblood twin, Saskia to be raised in isolation with Ontari. They are kept separately, so that no bond might form between them, and they are pitted against each other to sharpen both their skills.

The other twin, she was going to kill, but Roan stayed her hand before she was able to kill the infant.

“She can be useful to you, my Queen. Your husband is dead, but this, his child, is alive. She will be a symbol of hope for the people. That life is born anew even in Death.”

So the other twin, Lena, is kept in Azgeda with Nia. She’s touted as Nia’s (and her husband’s) daughter, born after her husband’s death, a holy symbol of Nia’s fertility and hope for the future. It adds a Madonna-esque patina to Nia’s image as a fearsome queen-goddess.

Lena grows up in the halls of the Azgeda, with a dominating and controlling Mother, and a brother revered throughout the land as a savior of the Azgeda.

And another brother Roan, who’s rarely home because his mother sends him on scouting missions and assassinations, so he can make himself “useful”

Lena and Roan are not close, the Azgeda regard such bonds as weakness. But there’s a sense of kinship between them – the two runts of the litter that Nia barely tolerates.

Lena knows nothing of her own sister, Saskia, held in captivity in the harshest lands of the Azgeda.

Lena’s brothers, though they rarely visit, are her only source of solace from Nia

Lex, who now calls himself Thorul kom Azgeda, brings home a fascinating piece of machinery – something none of the Azgeda have ever seen, let alone know how to operate – and teaches his bright little sister how to use it. Lena takes to it quickly, not knowing that it was given to Lex by the Mountain People, the enemy (whom he has made a deal with)

Roan always brings Lena back some pelt he got one of his hunts, or some shiny new thing he bartered for from the Trikru, or once a dagger he whittled himself.

Both brothers, though, are not any less culpable for Saskia’s fate.

Lex knows exactly where she’s kept. He doesn’t like her – she’s too unpredictable, too insolent to be malleable. He agrees with his mother that a cage is the best place to keep her

Roan doesn’t know where she is, but the knowledge of her existence eats at him, especially whenever he sees Lena.

He’s the one who eventually frees Saskia, and he gets himself exiled for it (but more on that later)

Now, back to the baby in the capsule that landed in Azgeda territory. She was retrieved by some Azgeda and taken to Lex. At that time, he was making a deal with the Mountain People, and he saw his opportunity in this little sky-girl.

He used her as a bargaining chip, and gave her to the Mountain people to study her blood and anatomy, with the caveat that the baby, whom Lex named Kasnia, wouldn’t be killed, and that he would be able to visit her

Lex’s plan was to study her so he could potentially use her as a weapon. He dictated his terms to the Maunon – that she would be raised in isolation, and that only he and a few select carers could visit her. After all, he had seen it work with Ontari, and he wanted to avoid a possible wild card (like Saskia would later become). So he kept her there in Mt. Weather.

Essentially, she was a lab rat for the Maunon, and an experiment for Lex. He kept her occupied and trained her, and made sure he was the only one who treated her gently. The other Maunon soldiers were brusque toward her, but Lex made sure that they never mistreated her, and made sure that Kasnia knew this was because of his influence.

Lex teaches her Trigedasleng and Azgedasleng. He tells her of the might of the Azgeda, and one day, she hopes to join them.

Saskia and Kasnia met once, when they’re around 8 or 9, before the truth about them was revealed.

Lex took Kasnia along with him to visit the prison where Saskia was kept. Lex was showing her that “the Commander” was an unjust tyrant, and that she was making weapons of children. Since Lex is trying to challenge Lexa’s power as Commander, even though she was the one who united all 12 clans

(see the scene above the cut for Saskia and Kasnia’s first meeting)

Kasnia is so full of questions for Lex about “the little girl in the cage” when they get back to Mt. Weather, and tells him about how she wishes she could see her again, and help her, and be friends with her

And Lex sees that his plan is not going as he’d hoped.

He accuses Kasnia of being “too soft”

“I thought you would be different. I thought I was raising you to be strong, but I see now that your heart is weak too.”

Kasnia’s eyes widen and she suddenly feels her heart drop. She’s disappointed him. “No, nontu! I’m not weak. I am strong like the Azgeda, let me prove it!”

“But you are not Azgeda, yongon. You are not of the earth, but of the skies. You are not like us. Others will seek to use you as a weapon, as a specimen, but I am raising you to be strong, to be a warrior.”

Lex eyes her steadily. “That little girl in the cage is dead now. She was far too broken. The Commander and her people broke her long before you met her. I am raising you to be a strong warrior, so that you may fight against the Commander. So that this will never happen again. So that no other child can be hurt again"

Kasnia’s eyes fill with tears. She wants to cry for the caged little girl, now dead. But she knows Father would take tears as weakness, so she balls her hands into tight, determined little fists instead. “I will be strong, nontu. I will make sure they can never hurt another again!”

Saskia, on the other hand, is still very much alive. And very much enamored.

When Roan frees her from the cages, he delivers her to Lexa so she can be safe with the other Natblida. (this is one of the reasons why Lexa somewhat trusts Roan)

When Saskia’s identity is revealed, it creates an uproar, because tradition demands that Nia be killed for daring to keep a Natblida secret from the Heda

But Lexa wants to keep the Azgeda within the Coalition, and Nia knows that Lexa can wipe her out with the Coalition’s combined forces

So to avoid compromising herself, Nia shifts the blame onto Roan

She spins the tale of Roan discovering that his newborn sister was a Natblida, and stealing her from his Mother and telling her the baby was dead

And Lexa, knowing that this is the only way they can avoid bloodshed between Azgeda and the rest of the Coalition, publicly accepts this story, denouncing Roan

This is why Roan is banished from the Coalition. For his mother, it was punishment for disobeying her and for Lexa, it was a compromise to avoid bloodshed

It’s also why Roan hates Lexa. On the one hand, he understands it. On the other, now he’s banished because of her

Saskia was never a sociopath like Ontari, but she has to relearn how to trust and develop bonds with other people

Lexa is one of the first people she opens up to. She rises through the ranks of the Natblida very rapidly, and she quickly becomes Lexa’s favorite.

Saskia’s compassionate nature begins to come out, with the help of the other Nightbloods

It’s not an easy or a quick process, and it comes with so many trials, but two years afterward, she becomes the Commander’s Second

(This is around the time of the show’s timeline)

She tells Lexa about the meeting

"There was a little girl, Heda. I met her before I met you. Before the Skaikru came. When I was still in the Cage."

They are in Lexa’s quarters where Lexa is teaching Saskia to read. It’s one of Saskia’s favorite things, reading. There are so few books left in the Grounders’ collection after the nuclear war, and Saskia has been so deprived of knowledge that she has all but devoured Lexa’s collection of books.

"She looked like…. Like one of those creatures you showed me in that one book, the beautiful ones with wings. What are they called, angles?”

Lexa smiles softly. “Angels.”

“Sha, Heda,” Saskia nods vigorously. “She looked like an angel. The guards at the Cage talked among themselves about her, the little girl who came from the Sky. Her eyes were so blue like the sky, Heda, that I believed them."

When the Skaikru came down, Lex realized that there were more of them

Lex thought that Kasnia wasn’t actually special and therefore was of no use to him, so he abandoned her in Azgeda territory to die. She grows up feral in Azgeda territory, using the skills Lex taught her to survive until adulthood.

Kasnia believes that Lex died at the hands of the Commander and that’s why he didn’t come for her.

She grows older and stronger, vowing to take revenge on "The Commander” for Lex, for that little girl in the cage who died

The rest of the world has no idea she even exists. The Mountain has fallen. Outside of the Mountain People and Lex, no one knew about Kasnia.

The only other person who saw her was Saskia – when she was a feral prisoner who was shown a small but unforgettable act of kindness by a little girl with golden hair and sky-colored eyes

And there is only one other little girl with gold hair and blue eyes.

Kara and the other Skaikru are eventually integrated into the Grounder culture

Upon Queen Nia’s death at Lexa’s hand, the whole Azgeda clan is thrown into chaos. Lex refuses to bow down to Roan, refuses to acknowledge the Commander’s authority and attempts to take the capital. His attack is foiled with the help of the Skaikru, and he is badly injured by a bomb built by Clark, who is one of the engineers from the Ark. He is taken in by some of his followers (maybe Mercy and Otis), and kept in secret.

For their aid in thwarting Lex, the Skaikru are integrated into the Coalition as the thirteenth clan. With Saskia, Lena and Kara all in Polis at the time, the three girls meet and become friends.

Saskia, seeing her golden-haired “angel”, thinks she’s the same girl who gave her the chocolate.

Except Kara doesn’t remember her.

Kara is enamored by Lena. And Lena, who shares Saskia’s face, is equally enamored by Kara.

Saskia sees this all clearly. They never turn her away or make her feel unwelcome, but the two of them seem to have their own world together that Saskia cannot penetrate, even as they grow older.

Lena eventually has to return with Roan to the Azgeda. Kara stays with the Skaikru, and Saskia stays within Polis to continue her training for when she succeeds Lexa

She rarely sees Kara, but Saskia holds her in her heart as that little girl who showed her the first glimpse of kindness, the first person who taught her that hope was a possibility for someone like her

Even if Kara doesn’t remember it, Saskia does, and she holds it in her heart for both of them.

But Saskia is the Commander now, and there is no place for love in her future. Only duty.

And more than that, she sees how Kara looks at Lena, and how Lena looks back at her. Kara has never looked at Saskia like that. And even though they have the same face, Kara always knows the difference between them. She always knows Lena.

So Saskia distances herself more from Kara. There are greater things expected of her as the new Commander.

It’s for the best, because Saskia knows Kara will never hold her in her heart the way she does Lena.

In the meantime, something stirs in the borders of the Azgeda. A creature that moves with the grace and speed of a deadly silver Snowbird flits between the trees, stealing livestock and supplies, moving south.

Kasnia travels to Polis and begins reconnaissance on The Commander. She’s very careful to keep her distance, to avoid detection. She catches only glimpses of this woman who has been the cause of so much pain and suffering, who took Kasnia’s nontu away from her. But glimpses are enough.

This dark regal figure pretends at nobility when the sword at her hip is stained with the blood of so many.

Kasnia hates her.

Except sharp green eyes catch sight of her (how? She was so careful. She’s a skilled hunter, no prey has ever seen her before she attacks) and Kasnia is pinned by a clear piercing gaze. There is recognition there and perhaps some… confusion?

The din of the public market allows Kasnia to slip away, feeling shaken. It’s not often she has to look her prey in the eye before she kills it.

She decides to lay low, bide her time. The Commander had recognized her somehow (how?) and surely she would be wary and increase security around herself.

Kasnia is so shaken that she doesn’t realize that she’s being followed until she’s on the outskirts of the city. She barely has time to whirl around and drop into a defensive stance when a figure appears from the shadows.

“What are you doing here, Kara?”

___________

By SorrowsFlower

#supercorp #supergirl #the 100 #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist #saskia de merindol #red daughter #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor #supercorp au #brenda strong #i finally managed to put this down #yeah that's as far as i got #saskia x red daughter #my writing

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malfoysqueen54 · 4 years

Text

In The Name Of The Father

Steve Rogers X OFC

Warnings: Character Death, Cussing? Thats it for now

18+ Only PLEASE! Beware my work can end up anywhere in smutville!!

Phil Coulsons daughter was devoted to her father, now in his death she devotes herself to Steve Rogers. In his memory. The girl she never felt he wanted no matter how she tried to be the super solider he dreamed of having as a son. Now as Steve's friend/ partner/ agent, she must deal with her baggage, but that chip on her shoulder is hard to remove. Even with Steve's charms.

She fell to her knees in front of her commanding officer and he approached to help her up with his lieutenant. Her father was gone—he was dead. She felt as if a huge slab of cement was laying on her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know if she ever would again. Her eyes squinted at the bright desert landscape around her. The noise of the encampment was being drowned out by the rushing sound in her ears from her blood pumping so fast.

“You need to pack, Major. You're going home. Your ride is already here.” She looked up at the General, her vision still hazy, and he gestured to the opening of the tent behind her. She knew and got up running to the man who recruited, trained and loved her like a father. Her gaze met Fury’s after a few minutes of silent tears.

“Let’s go, Brooke. I got you.” His hand gently smoothing over her back.

Everything was a blur…she couldn’t even go to the funeral. The Avengers were there and she saw red because of that. It wasn’t their fault, but she was so angry. Plus, he would be there. The bane of her existence, even if they hadn’t met yet. Brooke couldn’t face that, not yet. Her activities were simple for nearly two months. Drink, barely eat, barely sleep, drink more. So, of course, the reinforcements came.

Fury never knocked and she heard his booming voice first. “Brooke! Where are you?” It made her hangover worse.

“Jesus Christ, Nick, really!” she snapped, pouring more vodka in a glass. It was breakfast; why the hell not. Nat showed up, grabbed the bottle and poured it out. Brooke groaned and rolled her eyes, and Nick took the glass from her.

That one eye of his judging her like it always did. “You look like shit,” he said gently, yet matter-of-factly.

“Well I feel like shit, Fury.” She saluted him with a sarcastic grin, and then leaned on the kitchen counter, holding her head.

Nat put her hand on Brooke’s arm. “This won’t bring him back. You know he would be pissed.” Nat’s grip getting a little tighter to get her attention

Brooke turned to her friend and glared gently. “I was never enough. He would always be pissed, no matter what I did.” Her retort was dry and sorrowful; she knew how true that was. She had been trained almost since birth. You name it, she did it, including Army Special Forces and S.H.I.E.L.D. Nope, still not good enough.

Nick looked at Natasha and then back to Brooke. “I need a handler/partner/agent for Steve Rogers.” It was to the point.

Brooke sobered like cold water had been thrown on her. She snapped her eyes up to meet his and Natasha’s. “Are you kidding?!” she practically screeched.

“No, and you are the one who knows the most about him. You know stuff we probably don’t.” He gestured between him and Nat.

Brooke pushed off the counter, running her hands into her hair, her blood boiling. “You want me to babysit that little shit!” Her stance turned angrily towards Fury.

“Actually, he is like six foot two, so he only beats you by like two inches. Unless you wear your heels,” the redhead replied.

Brooke snarled. “I know how tall the bastard is.” Brooke took deep breaths, the scenarios running through her head. She owed this to her dad. Steve Rogers was his idol. She closed her eyes. “Fine, but that jerk will not know my personal past. Work related, fine.” Her hands were on her hips, sternly looking at Nick and Natasha.

Fury nodded, folding his arms. “What do you want your cover name to be then?”

She smirked and scoffed a little. “How about Barnes?”

Natasha sucked in a breath through her teeth. “That’s just cold, Brooke.” Fury shook his head.

“Fine, Collins, same thing we have used before.” She rolled her eyes as she waved her hand dismissively, turning to go shower and sober up.

“Your first get together is tonight at S.H.I.E.L.D.” Nat informed her.

“Yippee,” was the only bored reply they got as she closed her bedroom door on them.

The director and agent took their leave. Natasha was nervous, though. It could be a nuclear disaster in the making. “Are you sure we should do this? Put them together like this? Steve can be just as stubborn as she is.”

“If anyone can handle him, it’s her. Plus, she needs this. Her grudge will have to subside. He’s a damn boy scout, for Christ sake,” Fury replied, opening the door of the SUV.

“And she has a personal vendetta,” Natasha said getting into the passenger seat.

Fury sighed, falling back into the driver’s seat. “You have known her for years, trained with her. You know she will do everything to her father’s memory and credit. So, I know she may hate it, but she would die for Captain America. She is a soldier, she is loyal and one of the best damn assets we have.”

Natasha nodded with a knowing smirk. “You're right.” She sighed with a gentle chuckle. “She’s gonna hate it.”

Steve blew out a breath as he stood before Fury, Nat, Clint and Tony. He still didn’t know why he needed agent backup, or a handler, as they were also known as. Nick just looked at him sitting there and gave a slight smirk to Clint and Nat.

“So- when does his babysitter get here,” Tony asked. Clint and Nat shook their heads while Steve just sighed heavily.

“It’s not a babysitter. You Avengers all have loyal backup and agent help. Captain Rogers is no different,” Nick corrected him, glaring him down with that gaze of his.

Tony shrugged. “Alright, well does this guy have the ability and skill to back up the Capsicle?” Steve exhaled heavily through his nose, narrowing his eyes at Tony. “Just looking out for you Cap.” The billionaire folded his arms with another small shrug.

Steve hated to admit it, but looked at Fury and wondered the same thing. “He has a point.”

Clint and Natasha glanced at one another, smiling as Nick picked up a file. “Well, Army Special Forces, Green Beret. A Major in the Army. Three tours in Afghanistan.” Nick glanced up and Cap nodded as Tony looked unimpressed and gestured him to go on. “Three black belts, mixed martial arts fighting and winner, mind you. Weapons training, including blades, knifes, Asian weapons, swords and HYDRA weapons, as well as archery. A licensed pilot, a trained spy with undercover ops in Russia, Iran, England and Germany. Fluent in fifteen languages, do I need to keep going on?” He threw the file down on the table.

“How old is this guy? I mean, that’s a lot. Can’t have a lot of life experience. I mean no serum making him young like gramps over here.” Tony jerked his thumb at Steve. Steve shrugged—sounded qualified.

“Agent Collins is thirty-one,” Clint raised his hand. “Why are you here again, Tony?”

“Oh, I was updating tech for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he replied. “Wanted to look out for Cap here.” He smirked walking slowly over toward where Steve was seated.

“When’s he supposed to be here?” Steve asked ignoring Tony.

Agent Collins is here, Director.

They heard over the com on the desk.

“Show her into the conference room. We will be right there.”

“Her?!” Steve and Tony both exclaimed while Nat and Clint snickered at that.

“Yes. Her. Unlike you, Stark, I can trust Captain Rogers with a female,” Fury stated as Tony put his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Sorry, you will be stuck with a real dog.” Tony patted his shoulder as they set to leave the room to meet this agent Collins. Steve really wasn’t happy now. Fury picked up the folder and they all followed him to the conference room.

“Fury, really, a woman, why?” Steve huffed slightly.

“Because she’s the best, next to you guys,” the director replied

“She’s a real old, deadly hag- he means,” Tony chirped in.

“Enough, Tony,” Steve snapped at him.

Fury opened the door and they walked in. Her back was to them, sitting in the chair. Her blonde, or was it strawberry blonde, hair—Steve couldn’t tell in the lighting—was pulled up in a ponytail. She turned in her chair, not getting up, and looked at them.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony looked at Fury, flabbergasted.

Fury nodded as Steve looked at her face. She didn’t look like she was in her thirties. She didn’t look too young, either. He walked over to her. “You’re Agent Collins?” he asked, not too sure he could believe this woman was the one Fury just described.

She looked him up and down, and not in the usual way women did. Steve tensed under her gaze as if he would have to fight. Her eyes held contempt or was it arrogance? Anger—yeah, he was sure he saw that. She turned her chair and stood slowly, and Clint and Nat shook their heads as she met Steve eye to eye. Yeah, she wore the heels, just to let him know she would match him toe to toe. Steve’s eyes widened slightly as she smirked, and he glanced down over her and back up.

“Yeah, Mr. Rogers. I am Agent Collins.” She folded her arms in front of her smirking defiantly.

Tony’s eyes bugged a little and looked at Fury again. “Really? Are you kidding me? How tall is she? Did you find her at a Victoria's Secret show?”

“Six foot, to be exact, Mr. Stark. I am no model. Just a soldier and agent.” She looked at him blandly, turning to look at him.

“Play nice, Brooke. You know it’s Captain Rogers.” Fury eyed her. Steve kind of stared; this is what the army was churning out now? She couldn’t be that lethal, could she?

Brooke exhaled heavily, looking at him then back to Rogers and held out her hand. “Captain, I am Agent Brooke Collins. Yes, I am thirty-one, and yes, I am highly trained in a lot of things. Not all of us are lucky enough to get super solider serum.” She grinned sarcastically at him.

Steve raised a brow at her. The woman had some bite to her, and she wasn’t overly fond of him. Yet, he trusted Fury. He took her hand and shook it. They were soft, yes, but well worn. She worked with her hands and her grip was firm. “Major Collins,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “From what I hear, you don’t need serum. Now do you?” He felt her arm tense and her hand tighten in his, her eyes narrowed as well.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Tony smirked watching the two amused.

“No, it’s going to be work.” Brooke let Steve go and grabbed her file, tossing it at the table. “Clint.” She smiled brightly and hugged him, which he returned.

“Hey lady, you doin’ ok?” he asked without giving away anything. He knew she didn’t want anyone knowing who already didn’t about her dad.

She smiled and nodded.

Steve took her in as she hugged Natasha as well. She had on a simple black jacket and tank top underneath and jeans that hugged her, but were modest and showed the long legs adorned with black heeled boots. The look was unassuming , comfortable and gave her mobility in case of a fight. She wasn’t wearing makeup but then he thought she was pretty without it. She wasn’t superficial or materialistic, it seemed. Her posture was straight, hands placed behind her back. Yeah, she was a soldier. He could almost guarantee she had a weapon hidden somewhere as well.

Fury took in their stance and smirked. “So, can you work together? I need you to be Roger’s partner and back up.”

Steve folded his arms, watching her. “I think we will be fine.”

Fury looked to Brooke. She nodded. “From what I am told, he has no libido. So, I am fine, no worries for me.” She saluted Fury with a wink.

Fury let his head fall and shook it. “Um, question.” Tony raised his hand as Fury left for them all to talk and Tony followed. “Why does he get the snarky Christie Brinkley and I get a computer?” The doors cut off the rest of the conversation.

Steve walked up to her as she spoke to Clint and Natasha. “Have we met before? You seem to not really care for me. That’s odd if we haven’t met.” Clint and Nat glanced at one another before saying goodbye so Brooke and Steve could talk.

Brooke looked him over and took a deep breath. “You're right, I don’t care for you. Be that as it may, you are a huge asset to S.H.I.E.L.D. and America. So, I will do all I can to have your back.” She folded her arms across her chest once again.

Steve narrowed his eyes at her but nodded. “Alright, I trust Fury. Let’s give it a shot.” He nodded as he spoke, agreeing with himself.

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