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slayernina · 1 year

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iZombie Pilot differences

(Well, the 2nd draft at least XD)

https://www.scriptslug.com/script/izombie-101-pilot-2015

Just random things that caught my attention:

Olivia “Liv” Moore (27). Rose has the same age as her character while filming season 1.

She’s transitioned from bright, blonde. I wonder why they put Rose McIver natural blonde into a brunette. More contrast with the transition? Ironically, her “human” costume has Rose with her natural hair.

Clive Babinaux (30). Malcolm was 33 while filming.

Think Shaft as channelled through Jordan Peele. He's that rare combination of self-aware and super-fly. Cleavon Little in BLAZING SADDLES. I don’t get these references since I didn’t watch any of this movies, but Clive was much more serious and focused in “our” pilot.

Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti (40s). Wow, Ravi was way older than our Ravi. Rahul was 30 while filming. Thankfully we didn’t have another Hollywoodesque 10 years gap with any of the potential love interests (at this point, on paper Liv or Peyton). Also, since Rahul isn’t into “brown characters casting calls” and the age, I wonder if Ravi was the original name or if they changed the name and background after hiring the actor.

Think Simon Pegg’s “Scotty” in the Star Trek movies. A high energy, enthusiastic nerd, who has a brilliant mind that isn’t equipped with a filter or an off switch. He has an endearing lack of interpersonal skills and a genuine enthusiasm for unknown and unexplained. Conspiracy theories and unsolved mysteries are his porn. I’m glad we didn’t get another Sheldon or House.

Major Lilywhite (28). Robert Buckley was 34 while filming. A bit older than Liv but better than most of media. (Yes. I fucking hate late 30s/40s actors banging twentysomethings, specially since actresses are pretty fucked up when they turn 30).

A former University of Washington strong safety turned environmental engineer. The social worker turned Lord Commander was cooler.

Peyton Charles (26). Aly Michalka was 26 while filming.

They shared a love of lists and plans and predominately socialized while burning calories. Fuuuuuuuuck that. I wouldn’t handle another pretty best friend playing fatshaming into the audience. The deconstruction of using gorgeous Aly instead of “the chick” as the more stable, serious brain of the pair for me was refreshing. Even when she was “the damsel in distress” she was because she was overpowered by far.

That’s why seeing her daughter turn from ambitious super-achiever into zombiefied couch potato. Sorry. I laughed so hard with “zombified couch potato”. I think I’m going to make this my personal motto.

Evan Moore (16). Liv’s 16-year-old brother wants to be the next Dylan which is tough when your mom expects you to be the next Elon Musk. What. I didn’t expect this.

He’s a bit ashamed that he may like his sister Liv a bit better now that she’s changed into this new version that doesn’t remind himself so much of his mother. Screaming into the void forever for all the potential wasted in the Moore family that we never got.

Blaine DeBeers (28). David Ander was 34 while filming.

He’s the wussy, polo shirt with the collar up, selfimportant jerk who makes the jump from run of the mill spoiled asshole to completely evil crime lord. Probably David gives too much of evil lord or dangerous sociopath since the beginning to make him be a frat boy. I mean, the yellow plastic jacket was too much but a polo shirt? What a disgrace.

EXT. LAKE WASHINGTON, SEATTLE - NIGHT CAMERA FLIES ACROSS THE SURFACE OF LAKE WASHINGTON toward a dozen party boats tied together in such a way that people can just step from one boat to the next -- Lake Havasu-style. Wow, that looked so cool. I suppose we didn’t get it for budget reasons. Also no Marcy/Major introductory scene.

SLOW MOTION SHOT of Liv running straight at camera trying to cross the 20 feet that mean a chance at survival, a look of determination on her face. Pilot Liv was braver than Our Liv. And also snarkier.

REVEAL LIV, still hot, but now shockingly pale with nearly white hair. Still hot? Ugh.

Peyton leads her to an EMPTY CHAIR across from where the rest of them are sitting, then takes her seat with the group. The intervention was heavier. Liv’s inner dialogue also changes a bit more during the full original pilot.

DR. RAVI CHAKRABARTI (30s, nebbish, high-energy.). The age change here again. A mistake?

She turns to find BLAINE (late 20s, entitled, wearing a “Hugs Not Drugs” shirt.) He leans in close, his mouth by her ear, pulls plastic vials from his pocket. Blaine “no personal space” DeBeers XD

Liv throws her beer in his face. Blaine takes a menacing step toward Liv when he is tackled by a zombie. Liv shrieks, looks up, and sees the rolling zombie outbreak coming at her. This Blaine is more aggressive and his zombie origin story is different.

We return to the moment of Liv hiding under the boat railing surrounded by zombie chaos. Hid under a boat railing instead a table. I suppose budget again.

The last person she sees is BLAINE who is now a zombie. He’s left a bloody scratch down her arm. Liv wrenches free, but in doing so, bangs her head against the side of the boat and slips into the water. Different than rolling backwards to the water.

Suddenly, the blackness rips open revealing the NIGHT SKY and FLASHING RED LIGHTS. She wakes up in the night instead of the day.

Liv finishes up her story. LIV So, I hung out a while, chatted with the EMT. Made sure he had the correct spelling of my name. (off Ravi’s stare) I’m kidding. I took off. Pilot Liv craked a joke instead of “The EMT was too upset about having accidentally bagged a “living” girl to ponder any other possibilities”.

RAVI So you feel normal after you feed? LIV (smirks) Feed? -- like an animal? RAVI Sorry -- poor word choice. LIV No worries. It’s probably accurate. Truth is... I never feel normal. I don’t think I’ve slept in five months... And trust me, zombie-ism has its side effects. RAVI The Tabasco? LIV Pretty much the only way I can taste anything is if it would have at least six chili peppers next to it on a menu. The Liv-Ravi conversation was different and longer.

As Liv passes the open door of Peyton’s room, she spots a SORORITY MUG FULL OF PENS on a nearby bookshelf. She grabs the pens and continues towards the kitchen. (NOTE: This is the first of several beats of Liv impulsively swiping random objects. We’re not sure why but it will become clear later.). In our pilot Peyton asked where the pens were, here we can see how she steals them.

Too long to put in here, but there’s a full Lillymoore scene deleted in which Liv gets a bit jealous, rambles about a true love relationship and sex with a zombie, another in which the vision is different and another with Liv with concerned Evan scene deleted.

KTAU news. With Roxanna Bull. Tom Vasquez. Bill Sylvester with sports and Johnny Raines with weather. Johnny Frost was Johnny Raines and worked in channel 7 instead of 11.

Ravi and Liv sit at Clive’s desk. Ravi taps away on his phone (...). Ravi was with Liv initially at Clive’s desk scene and during Johnny’s scene. Also the conversation was way longer.

Tatiana was called Paulina Wojcinski and was Polish instead of Romanian.

Some not related with the case dialogue between Liv and Clive reaching to Paulina’s apartment has been cut.

Liv turns to him, her face ashen. This is the moment she loses her Winona Ryder dour/cool/bored affect. Interesting comparison lol

Liv, looking shell-shocked, waits nearby as Clive pounds on the door to Tess’ apartment. Soul-patched neighbour Truman opens his door in a huff.

TRUMAN She’s gone. Whatever you told her, it sent her running. It’s her body, you know. Only a patriarchal society would prevent women from monetizing their own—

CLIVE Did she say where she was going? The scene with the guy was shorter.

Liv steals a wooden apple instead of eyes. There’s two cut scenes, one with Clive, another with Eva. Clive and Eva meet. Also the scene at Paulina’s apartment is translated partially to a hotel room, with a vision involving Paulina and Tess. Another scene is added involving another apartment. Another scene involving the bad guy and Clive is cut too.

Peyton exits. Liv is thrown by Peyton’s show of emotion. She looks over the stolen loot, her slovenly attire, her Cheetostained fingers as she processes Peyton’s speech. LIV - Pathetic. Liv’s awakening is different.

The scene with Johnny is shorter, another scene with Pratt was cut.

The scene with Pratt and the girls was way shorter. There are several scenes of Clive running after Pratt and Liv and Clive interacting with the girls that were cut. Liv almost eats Pratt.

A scene in which Liv gets her zombie makeup applied and wanders through the haunted mansion is cut. Most of the conversation with Major and Peyton is cut.

What are your opinions on this?

My other metas here

La maldición de las cuatro brujas here

Una novela romántica de esas con un macizorro sin camiseta en la portada here

Un romanzo rosa di quelli con un fusto a petto nudo in copertina here

Buy me a ko-fi!

#izombie #izombie pilot #writing #escritura #slayernina writes stuff

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obiwanobi · 3 years

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Catch me thinking about sith Anakin who got in a fight w/ Palps (did Palps cross a line? Did Anakin decide he had nothing to lose? Idk), barely managed to win and is now seriously hurting and a little freaked out winding up outside Obi-wan's quarters and Obi-wan doesn't have time to draw his saber let alone figure out how a sith lord managed to get so far into the jedi temple unnoticed and Force is that blood? before Anakin's passing out with only a murmered request for help.

LISTEN you can’t keep sending me perfect prompts, how do you know I can’t resist bloody men on their knees begging for salvation, how do you know me so well??? anyway here’s 2.3k of always-a-sith!Anakin who could have been the new ruler of the empire but said ‘no thanks, this is too much responsibility, I would like to be pampered by my favourite jedi now’ (with a bit of Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan!)

He didn’t mean to kill him.

Well, not at first.

He didn’t mean to kill Sidious, but pulling his lightsaber from his lifeless corpse only felt like complete satisfaction. A weight on his shoulders he didn't know he carried disappeared, letting him stand up above the body of his master— former master, and gaze upon what was left of him. A shapeless form on the ground. A dark cape around an old man playing at being a god. A begging mess of futile promises when he realised it was the end for him.

As mindless fury leaves him, his ragged breathing slows down and his fist unclenches around his saber. Sidious is dead. Now that the adrenaline rush is gone, his knees start shaking. His Master is dead. His face is wet with sweat and blood and tears. Dead and now Anakin has no one.

And then... And then fear.

"You know," Ahsoka groans as the water starts boiling, "I don't understand how you got your reputation of Cool Jedi Master. Other padawans think I'm lying when I tell them you wear the ugliest slippers at home and gets excited by new tisanes."

"You gifted me those slippers."

"As a joke. And you still wear them."

"I'm not going to throw away perfectly good slippers." Obi-Wan wiggles his toes under the red and yellow fuzzy monstrosities, just to see his padawan rolls her eyes. "And they're really comfortable."

"So you're just going to stay there, then? Your whole battalion is out celebrating our first day of leave since forever, but you prefer to drink your tea alone and go to bed at 22:00?"

"No one wants an authority figure around when they're letting loose and celebrating, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan says, pouring hot water in his cup. He raises the kettle towards his padawan as a question, to which she shakes her head. "I thought you would be happy to see me putting sleep before work for once."

"I am, Master, but I thought it could be..." She trails off, fidgeting with the hilt of her sabers. For once, she looks like a typical padawan, just like he was at her age, dying to enjoy one night away from the temple and any kind of responsibilities.

"It's alright my dear," he sighs, "you can join them if you want."

Ahsoka suddenly perks up. "I can?"

"If you're old enough to be sent to the front, I think you can handle yourself for one night on Coruscant."

"Thank you Master! I promise I'll be careful and not come back too late!"

"You do that, and-- wait, Ahsoka," he adds as she's already halfway through the door, "make sure to stay around Cody! And no alcohol of any kind! And don't lose your lightsaber at sabacc again!"

"That was you!" she yells from the end of the corridor, "don't worry, I'll be fine! Don't wait for me to go to bed! Goodnight Master!"

Obi-Wan smiles, blowing on his cup. He already sent a message to Cody earlier to keep an eye on her, so he knows she's in good hands.

He has his herbal tea, his ugly slippers, no reports to read or write, and no immediate Separatist menace to plan for. For once, a perfectly good night to catch up on sleep and meditation.

So, of course, something has to be wrong.

The Force is bright. The Force is lighter than it has ever been for the past few years.

And Obi-Wan can't understand why.

It's not just him that can feel it: Ahsoka has acted chipper since, more like the teenager she is, laughing with the clones and playfully teasing him the whole fly back to Coruscant. The temple has felt livelier than ever when they arrived, Jedi from all ages going about their day with a new spring in their step, greeting each other warmly in the corridors. Even Master Yoda has taken a few minutes during their Council meeting to note the shift in the Force. No Master could pinpoint the origin of this change, but all agreed that something good happened somewhere in the galaxy, and they were just feeling ripples of the effect in the Force.

Still now, the whole temple feels a bit more like it used to, before the war, and all Jedi are a bit happier without knowing why.

Only Obi-Wan feels like a noose tightening around him. Whatever it is, it's slowing making its way around his presence in the Force. Focusing on him and him alone. Doesn't matter how much Obi-Wan tries to hide himself, it's getting closer and never slowing down or losing interest.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this.

But after almost three years of war, sullen faces and grim expressions, he doesn't feel like dampening the sudden good mood around the Temple just with a few words. He can probably deal with whatever it is by himself.

His tisane is cold when he finally emerges from his meditation. Nothing is clearer than when he started: the Force is deaf to his questions and inquiries, still light as a breeze. An airy unconcern for his restlessness. And yet, a thick pressure still looms around him, getting heavier each passing second now.

His fingers start pulling on his collar.

The clock on the wall indicates that he lied to Ahsoka when he said he was going to bed at a respectable time today. No diurnal Jedi would still be up right now, but he still considers going out to knock at Mace's door. Narrowed eyes and a very long sigh will be his first answer, but Obi-Wan knows that Mace would never refuse to hear him out. Yes, he finally decides when the pressure seems to creep even closer to him, it's worth waking up Mace.

He opens his door, wondering if he should take his robe with him, and instantly stops walking.

There, in the empty corridor of the Jedi Temple, at his door and on his knees, is a Sith. He knows it's a Sith only because he recognises this specific mass of hair, the large shoulders, the dishevelled dark robe. He knows it's a Sith because he has crossed path with this one enough times on the battlefield to recognise him anywhere. Outside of it a few times too. He isn't sure it's a Sith when the Sith raises his head up, bloody and bruised face torn in an agonizing expression, and his eyes are blue.

"I— I didn't know where to go," Darth Vader says quietly, with the kind of voice expected from a lost child. It gives Obi-Wan a second shock to hear his voice, making his presence suddenly real. "You said... You said if I ever wanted to, if I needed help one day, you would— I could—"

Obi-Wan remembers it. He remembers all the times he offered his help. His pleas for him to stop the violence, the appeals to reason, the multiple suggestions of a gentler path. His hand continuously outreached but never taken. He remembers the burning gold of the Sith's eyes too, and his black cape floating above the dead clones at his feet.

His laughter the first time Obi-Wan brought up the idea of lowering their blades and talking around a cup of tea. His sneer the third time Obi-Wan tried to change his misconceptions about the Jedi Order and play-flirt with him in the same breath. The silence the fifth time Obi-Wan asked him his name, his real name, the one a parent gave him.

The tears the last time he gave it to him.

"And you're always trying to save me," Vader adds more forcefully now, like the words anger him, "you're always here, showing up almost every time I'm sent somewhere with your stupid smile and stupid words, and you're always nice, and... and teasing, and disappointed when I kill someone, like you expect me to be better, and I don't understand you, but..."

Vader raises his hand towards him, and it's only this sudden move that shakes Obi-Wan out of his stupor. Before the Sith can touch his leg, Obi-Wan calls his lightsaber to him, ignites it in one fluid motion, half-expecting Vader to be up and swaying his saber in his face by now. But the Sith is still on his knees, and it's only now that the blue light of his blade is above him that Obi-Wan realises the state he's in. His face isn't the only thing bruised and battered: his dark tunic is stained with blood and ripped in more than one place, one of his arms is bent in an unnatural way, and it looks like a cut above his hairline is still bleeding, making his curls stick to his face in a mess of wet hair and burned skin.

"Vader," Obi-Wan says slowly, when his thoughts finally regain a semblance of coherence. A rapid investigation through the Force assures him that no other enemy is around and the calm and quiet of the night in the Temple isn't a prequel for a storm. "How did you get in here? What are you doing here? How—"

Vader's hand, stuck in the space between them, reaches once again for Obi-Wan. Foolishly, Obi-Wan lets him. His fingers twist themselves in the fabric of his pants.

"He made me killed them all.” Vader wobbles on his knees for a second, the hand on Obi-Wan's leg gripping it tighter. “No platoons, no battle droids. Just me. He sent me to the power station and I cut through them so easily, so quickly, they didn't even fight back, and I didn't think that..." he trails off, panting. "Until.... until I saw the electro-whips."

"Are you talking about Naphtla?" he asks when Vader doesn't seem to be able to continue.

Naphtla. Outer Rim. Barely on the Republic radar until this afternoon, when nearby troops answered a distress signal and found a hidden Separatist power station operated by slaves. A third of them were dead, killed only a few hours before, and the survivors turned to the Republic for immediate support. Slaughtered like animals, the rescue team reported to the Council only a few hours ago, by one single man wielding a red lightsaber. According to witnesses, the darksider cut through the slaves like bantha butter, killing everyone in his path without discrimination, until he stopped for no apparent reason and abruptly left.

"You were the one who killed the people at the station there," Obi-Wan realises out loud, horrified, "the slaves from Zygerria."

Vader snaps his head up and his fingers tighten painfully around Obi-Wan's knee. "I DIDN'T KNOW!"

All Obi-Wan's senses and logical thoughts urge him to back out, put an end to this nonsensical charade, raise his lightsaber between them, get away from the dark, hungry void Vader generates in the Force.

But his eyes are looking up to him. Gripping his gaze with the same intensity as his hand on his leg. Bloodied face and pleading, on his knees. Full of tears.

Obi-Wan doesn't push Vader's hand away.

"I didn't know they were slaves, I didn't!"

"Vader."

"He never said! He sent me without telling him, he knows I don't—" A small noise sounding suspiciously like a sob swallows the rest of his words.

"Vader, who sent—"

"When I came back," he tries again, quieter. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to ask about this he, but Vader's head lolls for a second, too heavy to support, before butting gently against Obi-Wan's leg. Vader makes no effort to move, content to stay there, and after a second, a small, almost timid nuzzle against his thigh sends a series of shivers through Obi-Wan's spine. It shuts him up instantly. "When I came back, he looked at me for so, so long, before saying that he knew, he knew I was going to fail, that I was... just like them after all, and that I could never... And I was so mad, so angry at him, so I... I..."

The last words are muffled by the fabric Vader clings to. Hides into. There's blood on Obi-Wan's pants now.

"What have you done, Vader?" Obi-Wan asks, softer than he intended. "Vader," he asks again when no reply comes, without success. The hand not holding his lightsaber moves, hesitates for a moment, then settles lightly on Vader's hair, mindful not to touch any open wounds. His fingers nudge him to tip his head back, gently, carefully, and settle on his cheek to hold his face up, looking at him. "Anakin." His name, his true name, makes him blink a few times. "Anakin, what have you done?"

"I killed him," he finally admits, barely audible. He looks exhausted, more like a child in need of rest than ever.

"Who did you kill?"

"My master."

"Dooku? You killed Dooku?"

"No," Vader— Anakin frowns, like Obi-Wan should know better. "Sidious."

It's a bit much to process in one day. Another Sith Lord, Vader's master, concealed and kept a secret, now dead, killed by his apprentice —and does that make Vader the ruling Sith Lord now? Do Sith have rulers?— the lightness in the Force the same day, a half-dead Vader begging for help in the middle of the night in the Jedi Temple, and all of that while Obi-Wan is still wearing his ugly slippers.

He's so glad he sent Ahsoka away for the night.

Anakin doesn't let him time to feel the migraine coming.

"I can't do it, I can't be my master, I can't— and Dooku hates me, he will never help me, even if I let him have it all, he will never..." Vader seems to run out of steam, and lets his eyes close as his head falls once again against Obi-Wan's thigh. Closer. "You said you could help me. You said I could come to you at any time. You said you would always be there if I didn't want to... do this, anymore."

"I did," Obi-Wan assures him, his hand lightly petting his hair again.

Anakin lets out a long breath. His fingers tighten on the fabric of Obi-Wan's pants, loosen, and tighten again.

"You're the only one I trust," the Sith quietly tells the Jedi, and it's the saddest thing Obi-Wan has ever heard.

#appleslakesandeuchre #(I changed the end of your prompt a bit I hope it’s fine with you)#asks #obikin #clem's aus #fic i will never write #always a sith anakin au #ahsoka the next morning is HORRIFIED to find a sith on the couch #like 'I knew you had a huge soft spot for him but really master? REALLY?'#obi-wan 'shh don't raise your voice at him'#fic i did write

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colormeyondublue · 3 years

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Chapter 8: Trenvik

Chapter 7 Here - Chapter 9 Here

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little nervous. Yondu’s words and anxious behavior are still fresh in your mind. You wonder to yourself who these disloyal men may be. You have an idea who a few might be, but they’ve never really bothered you apart from the occasional catcall. Most of the time if you made a snide comment back, they would leave you alone. You idly get ready and fix your hair in a braid. This morning feels strange.

A knock at your cabin door breaks your train of thought. You head toward the door, putting on that silver bracelet Yondu got you. You open your door and find the most unexpected face there to greet you.

It was Trenvik.

Trenvik was a race that you had never seen or heard of before boarding the Eclector. Kraglin told you he was Chorak. Apparently, they were an isolated kind and they were not sociable. He was…odd to say the least. He has lemon yellow skin, with puke green blotches covering his neck and face. His eyes are a piercing green with yellow speckles, and he has goat-like pupils. His facial features are sharp and hollow, and he is totally hairless. Trenvik leans against the doorframe with two of his 4 arms. The other two arms are above you, all 6 fingers gripping the ledge over your head. He was tall – very tall. You would guess around 7 feet. His body was lanky and lean. You recall he has a very unnerving gait to his walk. Something about him always made you very uncomfortable. Maybe it was the croaking sound that always seemed to seep from his throat when he would pass you on the ship. It could have been the fact that you had caught him staring at you a number of times in the mess. He’s never spoken to you – until now.

“Y/n.”

“Uhh…Hi. Trenvik – right?”

“Why are you hiding – in your room?”

His words are measured and unnerving. You begin to fidget with your feet, gripping the door handle tighter.

“I’m not hiding, I was actually getting ready to get some breakfast.”

“Breakfast? My dear, it’s almost halfway through the day. You are a bit late for that.” His mouth spreads into a nauseating grin. Sharp, needle-like teeth showing beneath his thin lips. He leans in closer to you.

“Oh my gosh! It’s that late?! I had no idea! I’m sorry, Trenvik, I really need to go.” You try to push past him through the doorway and pull the door closed behind you. “It was nice speaking to you!”

“Not so fast.” He grabs you by your wrist and pushes you against the wall next to your door. “Why are you in such a hurry to get away from me?”

“I – I’m not. I’m just late. I have to get to w-work.” You stutter.

He slowly releases his grip on you. His eyes travel up and down your body, as if he is trying to decide if you’re lying or not. “Very well. We can finish this later.” He finally says.

He takes one step back and you turn to run down the walkway toward your office. Trenvik watching you as you flee.

As you reach your office, you slam the door behind you, breathing rapidly. You start to feel tears welling in your eyes when your wrist comm dings. It’s Yondu.

“Yondu?”

“Hey Darlin’, you alright? I haven’t seen ya all day.”

“Yondu! Umm…yeah. I slept through my alarm. And I’ve been dealing with some weird anxiety today. I just feel strange. On top of that, Trenvik came to my door a little while ago.”

“What did he want?” He asked with clear aggravation in his voice.

“I don’t know. He was just trying to talk to me I think, but it felt creepy – like there was something else. His whole demeanor was sketchy.”

“You in yer office?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Stay right there honey, I’m on my way.”

The comm beeped again, and Yondu was gone. You let out a heavy sigh, and sit down at your desk. Music…I need music. You reach for your holopad and pull up the music files that Kraglin got you a few days prior. You begin to find more and more American music. That was a huge comfort to you, regardless of what era the music was from. A song that came through your speakers almost broke you. “Devil’s Backbone” by The Civil Wars. You heard some of their music when you were back home, but this song was new to you.

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what have I done?

I've fallen in love with a man on the run

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I'm begging you please

Don't take that sinner from me

Oh don't take that sinner from me

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what do I do?

I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you

He's raised on the edge of the devil's backbone

Oh I just wanna take him home...

You begin to think about the events that unfolded that morning with Trenvik. What if something does happen? What if Yondu does make me go back to Earth? I can’t leave him. He’s everything I never knew I needed. He’s brave and strong and true. Sure, he’s a criminal…but I don’t care. Sure, he’s a pirate, but I love him. I don't want to live a life without him in it. You look up at the screen of the holopad and the tears begin to fall. The last thing you want is to be the reason that Yondu runs into trouble with his crew. You don't want to be the reason someone freaks out and he gets hurt. You definitely don't want to put him in a situation where he would have to hurt someone else. He’s been through so much in his life. From being a battle slave all those years ago, being exiled by Stakar, and now he’s questioning his crew’s loyalty.

...Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not

He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I'm begging you please

Don't take that sinner from me

Oh don't take that sinner from me

What you didn’t know, is that Yondu was already in the room. He’s been silently standing inside the door listening to the music, hearing the lyrics along with your short breaths.

“Y/n?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yondu!” You whip around, tears evident on your cheeks. “I didn’t hear you come in. What did you need?”

“Baby…what’s wrong? Did Trenvik bother ya?” You think his words over and absentmindedly rub your wrist where Trenvik grabbed you earlier. Yondu sees this and he raises his voice, “Did he put his hands on ya?!”

“Well…yes. He grabbed my wrist in the walkway. I’m a little scared of him, but he didn’t say anything hurtful or inappropriate. I just don't like the feeling he gives me. It’s…intrusive and creepy.”

Yondu's expression then turns angry. Eyes flashing with a seething light. Just as he is about to speak, the comm on his wrist beeps and Kraglin could be heard. “Cap’n, the crew is gathered in the mess fer the meeting.”

“Thanks, Kraglin, I’m headed yer way.” Yondu’s eyes meet yours, and he sees how worried you are. He forces his emotions to calm. “I’m gonna go talk to the crew. I’ll get this settled sweetheart, just ya wait and see.” He caresses your jaw with his hand, and places a single kiss on your lips. “Do ya wanna come with me? Ya can stand by me if that makes ya feel better ‘bout the whole thing?”

“I guess so.” You shrug.

“C’mon, darlin’.” He leads you out the doorway and toward the mess. Once there, you and Yondu walk up toward the officers table at the front. The platform you follow him to is raised and Yondu leans in close to you.

“Stay close ta me, I don’t expect much trouble, but I’d rather be safe in case anyone decides to get stupid.”

You take one small step back, but stay near Yondu’s side. The men in the mess are talking amongst themselves loudly. Kraglin approaches the Captain and murmurs, “Everyone is here sir, they’re all yers.”

Yondu clears his throat and lets out one loud, sharp whistle. His arrow flys up to his ear, and the room is immediately silent. Your heart is beating quickly, and you put your hands behind your back so you can fiddle with your fingers without being seen.

“Now…I bet ya’ll are wonderin’ why I called everyone here. It’s been brought ta my attention that some ‘a y’all think that I am keepin ya on a short leash around y/n fer no reason. It ain't fer no reason. Y/n is off limits, because she’s mine! It’s safe fer ya'll ta assume that she is my girl. I don’t want ta hear another complaint from anyone on this ship about y/n being off limits. If anyone has a problem with that, you are free to depart one of two ways: at our next port, which would be Knowhere, or out the airlock! If I get even the tiniest wind of more talk regarding y/n or this mutiny crap that’s been floating around, I will not hesitate to send this arrow straight through yer skull! Is that clear!?”

A resounding “Yes sir!” echoed through the mess.

“Not a single one ‘a ya is ta lay a hand on her. You do not speak to her in a manner she doesn’t like, and if ya do ya’ll can believe that I will know about it, and I will skin ya alive.”

The murmurs began again as Yondu turns to say something to the first mate. You scan over the crowd nervously. You catch Trenvik staring straight through you from the back of the room. His icy stare sending the worst chills down your spine. You overhear some mention of the Captain going soft, and something about you being his personal whore. The word “whore” lights your blood on fire, and you begin to see red. The murmurers start to get louder and the room is clouded with harsh laughter. The noise starts to get overwhelming. Without thinking, you yell into the room as loud and you can manage. Yondu snaps his head in your direction at the sound of your voice.

“SHUT IT!!” Your fists are clenched and your arms are shaking. Yondu can see the rage burning in your eyes. Anger is an emotion he has never seen you wear before. He isn’t sure if he should stop you, or let you continue. He keeps his eyes on you while you speak.

“Most of you in this room only know me as the Secretary – so to speak. Some of you have never spoken to me, where as some of you,” you glance in Tullk and Geff’s direction and smile softly, “talk to me on a regular basis. Yes, I am in a relationship with the Captain. Yes, I am his girl. Now, I have no authority here, but because I am his girl, I will not tolerate any mention of the Captain going soft! Some of you may have no idea what I am. Some of you might not be familiar with where I’m from. Sure, I’m Terran, but I’m more than that. I am human. We care for our own, deeply. We love, we defend and we protect. We Terrans may be small, we might be weak, and hell, we may not even be that smart by galactic standards – but back on my home planet, we have a saying: It takes a village. The meaning is simple…in order to survive, we have to work together. We have to care about each other. For thousands of years, my people have been beating the odds left and right. We’ve survived hostile environments, fierce predators, and devastating plagues. Just 4 Earth years ago, our global population reached over 7 and a half billion people! We survive because we figured out a long time ago that love is our strength, not our weakness.”

Apart from your words, the room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You take a big breath in, and continue.

“The point is, this crew could be a whole hell of a lot better off if you guys would trash this idea that caring about someone makes you soft! It’s absolutely ridiculous! Love can bring on a strength in each and every one of you that you never knew you had. It doesn’t even have to be romantic love, it can be something as simple as friendship and respect for one another, and for your Captain. Just know that this entire crew would be so much stronger and much more resilient if you would consider my words. With this knowledge, and with Captain Udonta at the helm, this crew could do anything!”

The crew just stares back at you, with a mixture of bewilderment and confusion on their faces.

“However, Rome wasn’t built in a day. So…just think about it.” You smirk confidently, and cross your arms.

Yondu just stares at you. It’s hard to read what he’s thinking, as he remains expressionless. He looks back out over the crew. “Yer dismissed. Get back ta work!”

Kraglin discreetly says something to Yondu, and he glances at you before leaving the mess as well. Shit…I might have way overstepped my boundaries. Yondu is probably pissed. Great.

Yondu turns to you. “Yer done with yer work fer the day. Come with me.” You follow Yondu out of the mess and straight to his quarters.

#Yondu and The Secretary #Yondu Udonta #yondu x reader #marvel #fanfic #gotg #gotg fanfiction #ravager #kraglin obfonteri #kraglin #eclector

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boredoverlord · 3 years

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Bucky X Reader - Hold the Line

I came in here to show you a good time, so here's my personal work and my very first fanfiction of all time. And because I'm a thirsty bitch, of course it's smut.

Summary : As a young and talented psychologist specializing in difficult people in prison, you believed in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with the SHIELD. Turned out you were tricked to work for HYDRA.

For three years they made you do horrors in the name of an ideology you despised, but you may have found the occasion to finally make a change for the good, when they introduced you to your new patient.

The Winter Soldier.

Rating : Explicit, please kids, look away ( of course you won't because you're cute little rebels, but please do it)

Word count : 6.4k (chapter 1)

TW: Light BDSM (for now) Because Bucky is a massive Sub and it seems nobody agrees with me, so I have to do the lord's work here.

Foul language, mention of violence and murder, Masturbation, male orgasm and a tiiiny bit of choking. I started lightly

Please consider reading this on Archive of our own or read it below the cut. Lemme know what you think !

Chapter 1: A Story of Almost Everything

You never were the type to brag. But one thing you know is : you’re damn good at your job. Years and years of psychology studies, you barely got to parties, you hardly made any friends, and your sleeping schedule is still a nightmare. Those were sacrifices you did for one sole purpose : helping others. To be the last resort for people who have lost everything. You always firmly believed that you could make a change in the world, even the slightest, even for just one person. That would have been enough to make your lifetime worthy. What's more noble than just a genuine try to make it better, after all ? So you wasted your youth on studies, without a damn blink. And never one ounce of regret. You did it because it felt right. You’re not very brave, but you decided to face your fear a couple of times. You even were an intern in a high security prison, talking to broken men and women who hated your guts. Trying to lead them to another path of life. You heard stories that could break any mind. Only time could tell if you actually helped them. But that’s part of the job. Hope. And hard work.

That’s why when you started to have a growing reputation, at 26 after five years of studies and several years working in prison and rehabilitation, you were ecstatic when S.H.I.E.L.D contacted you. You quit everything, starting with your homeland in Europe, to fly to Washington DC, to visit the headquarters. The new building, the thrill of novelty, the clean rooms, the medical wing, and Alexander Pierce himself coming to shake your hand and telling you personally the wonders they have in mind for the psychology field. You could prepare people to save the world, you could have all the resources to make research, and fix minds that were supposed to be beyond repair. It was supposed to be just a quick trip, but the visit wasn’t even done when you looked at your guide with enthusiasm : you weren’t going home. Just cancel the fly. You’re taking the job immediately. It was three years ago.

Enough to understand how fucked you are.

You didn’t save anyone, you didn’t even work to make the world a better place. Oh but you did work to make a change. A change for HYDRA. They tortured you to make you swallow their ideology, but even if your body surrendered, your mind didn’t, even if it was still a perpetual work on yourself. You never believed in this masquerade, but you know it doesn’t matter. Because HYDRA knows how good you are at your job, and you’re a precious asset. So precious that they pushed all your buttons to make you obey. You tried to act and escape. Their last resort is the Damocles sword they put over your family’s head. Next act of rebellion, heads will roll. And it won’t be yours : no, no. HYDRA won’t give you this relief. It will be your loved ones. So you’re doing what you have to do. It’s the most cowardly choice, you know it. And you’re ashamed. But you’re too terrorised to make it otherwise. So you’re here to twist people's minds to swallow whatever Hydra wants. You make them understand the importance of the organization, when they can’t take it anymore, you make them understand that not only they can, but they must . You saw vulnerable people giving their life to this awful cause, and you are the person to make them understand it was the right thing to do. They gave you kind people with dreams, morals and passion, and you turn this into anger, hate and war, worshipping a crazy doctrine that spoils everything you believed and fought for. You have blood on your hands. You’re THAT good at your job.

So when they called you for a highly secret mission, you weren’t exactly surprised. Just disgusted by them, and mostly yourself. In the guts of what was called the Ideal Federal Saving Bank, you’re obediently following the chef himself : Alexander Pierce, to your next place of action. “I believe you have read your mission’s order, Y/N ?” “Yes Sir.” You said. “It did mention I will have the whole file today, though. I need to take a look at my patient so I can work in proper condition.” “Whatever you call it.” He said, opening the door of the clandestine laboratory in the now abandoned bank. If not for the machinery, we could still believe that those art deco walls filled with safes would still contain treasures of a lifetime for some people. Now there is nothing of value in here, not even the very skin of every PoS present. And you were including yourself. Making your way in the middle of the heavy set up, you slowly reach the pod in the middle, chewing secretly the interior of your cheeks. You know what’s inside, and it makes you want to puke. Mr Pierce continued “Doctor, as your mission was presented to you, your one on only assignment will be the physical and mostly the psychological perfect condition of the Winter Soldier, for the entire length of this mission on american soil.” Basically, be sure his brain is a fucking slushy. You reluctantly nodded and drew closer. “What’s his condition ?” At the top of your height, barely 5’3, you tiptoed to actually look at him by the window of the cryostasis chamber, since you never got this close of a look, not without the file and basically crumbs of info that were thrown at your face. They expected you to keep a dog on a leash, not making actual work on him, and it shows. White man, late 20s to early 30s, approx 5”7, long dark messy hair, not shaved, geez, it seemed like the poor guy was barely cleaned up before being pushed here. Good physical condition, breathing was steady. You could see the steam of his breath on the glass. He may be clinically asleep, but she highly doubted he would be in his best shape. He looked uncomfortable, and tired. It wasn’t a restorative sleep. It was a prison. You couldn’t help but notice his prosthetic arm, even if that was the only thing you knew about him. It’s a fascinating work of science, that’s for sure. And even if transhumanism and biomechanical wasn’t your forte, you wanted to have a closer look, to satisfy your curiosity. One of the scientists watching his screen responded : “He’s gently defrozing, should be half conscious in 5 minutes. You may want to take a step down.” You ignore that, and lean your hand to your superior. “May I finally have what I have been asking for ?” With the most irritating smile, he gave you the Winter Soldier’s File and you quickly opened it to have a first look at all the fuss. Basic physical information, previous missions report, date of entering and ending of cryostasis, bare minimal medical record, notes by her predecessor, fucking trigger words to make him kneel like a 12 years old in front of any boysband... nothing about his previous life, his antics, his name, actual disorders, no name, nor adresses… You glaced a bit at Pierce and threw a polite smile. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows you know. You’re extremely good with very violent patients. You have endured rapists and murderers spiting in your face and swearing to bite your head off and fucking your skull. You were traumatized and you cried yourself to sleep, but the following day you did your job again. You’re just here to handle the worst of the worst. And you’re going to do it.

Or he’s going to break your neck and fuck your skull. You’re fine with that.

“Thank you it’s going to be very helpful.” As helpful as a band-aid on a wooden leg. “What’s this device ?” You point your chin to another machine not far away from it. One of the two men finishing installing it, raised his head to look at you. “A memory suppressing machine. Usually he doesn’t need it as much as he used to, but it’s mainly for safety. He must be prepared.” “He’s in a state where he willingly takes it. So don’t hesitate if he’s starting to be annoying, or excited. That can happen. But that mean you would probably have to work more with him to make him fully ready for his mission,” “Understood, thank you for clarification gentlemen.” You smiled and they smiled back. You’re a woman, so you’re used to it. Basically this shit was supposed to hack his brain, and it must be painful. “I would strongly recommend not using it at such a time. From what I quickly read he needs stability and time. Wiping everything out will more likely create more confusion.” You took a look at the file again and took it upon yourself to not have your eyes double in size and screaming at this bunch of idiots. “... and it does seem he’s using it a lot.”

“We want the asset to be as focused as possible.”

“I understand that, but that's a temporary solution at best. He’s got a brain, not a harddrive. We still don’t know how it can store information, and if it can…” “The last time we used him was five years ago…” Started Pierce, with diplomaty, but also with a tone that wasn’t allowing any more debate on the matter. “And this mission is an absolute priority. The asset is strictly under cryostasis procedure as soon as he’s not needed anymore. The machine will be used if needed.” “I understand your point.” You absolute psychopath. “Then my request is simply to be here if it happens, and to be able to control the shocks. Also, I insist that he must be in perfect condition when you launch the procedure, I’ll personally make it happen and give you a green light.” “Thank you for your hard work.” He said, raising his hand, that you promptly and politely shook. You could feel the angry grasp. “I know you’re the perfect woman for this hard job. Your work is an inspiration for us all.” You wish you could end your life right here right now, instead of being told such atrocities. But you think about your mom and dad. At this time of year they start to prepare the pool for the summer, for the future neighborhood barbecues where they will brag to everyone about their incredible psychiatrist daughter who is doing secret stuff over sea to help save the world. You have to be strong. At least for them. At least for now.

“Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.” You responded, while your tongue feels like sandpaper.

“Ok he’s starting to wake up…” Someone warns, as Pierce leaves the room, unbothered. The pod opens before your eyes, as the asset -you hate this term- is being roughly handled and carried away by two dudes to his seat. The one dangerously close to the memory suppressing machine. You squatted in front of him, the time for him to blink several times and look around him. Confused, but it’s not exactly his first rodeo either. His eyes are quickly focused on the first thing in front of him : you. He looked like he was trying to remember who you are, but quickly realized he didn’t know you. Two blue spears digging right into your soul. That’s making you a bit uncomfortable. The same weird feeling of unease you have when a cat is watching you taking a shower. “Hi.” You started, in english, even if he could be from italy you had no freaking clue. You guessed that he was probably slavic. But the file says he’s speaking more than ten languages. And it wasn’t specified when and how the hell did he learn that. “Can you hear me?” He took a few more seconds to look at you, probably the time to finish reading every embarrassing moment of your life, right into your eyes, like your drunk 18th birthday when you finished in your panties swimming in a city fountain, but he nodded eventually. You actually know this look. But it’s the first time you have a super soldier in front of you so it’s of a rare intensity. He’s dissecting you. Gathering information. His eyes moved slightly down : a recent scar on your neck. Right : an ex piercing on the top of your ear, now unusable. Down left : he just realized you’re slightly unbalanced so he knows you have a hip issue. And down right : he’s looking at your hand, you don’t really know what he saw here, maybe calculating how to break them ? You were literally a foot in a viper’s nest. Were you terrified ? Absolutely. Will that forbid you to do your job ? Nope. “Can you follow the light ?” You asked, moving slowly your phone’s lamp from left to right in front of his eyes. He did it without questioning. “Ok good.” You tried a smile, not really knowing why. If he was at least a tenth as clever as the file said he was, he perfectly know that you’re here to fuck him up. But you couldn’t help it. Poor dude. He was visibly more or less your age. He could have been a prince, or thief, a womanizer, or a priest, whatever, HYDRA took everything from him. From his free will, of his right to grow old, to his sleep. “Can you tell me your name ?” He frowned, perplexed. “Winter Soldier.” Shitty answer but at least he was fully aware, and his tongue was working properly. “Nice to meet you, I’m doctor Y/N. We’re here to work together in preparation of your next assignment. Do you understand ?” He nodded, unimpressed. “Good, can you get up ?” He did, so you did it too. And he realized that you were… very short. His eyes literally went up and slooowly down. That was a bit mean, actually. You carefully took a glance behind you, and your eyeroll could probably trigger an earthquake. “Can you all nice gentlemen let down a bit of their weapon ?” You said at the 6 dudes with rifles literally fixed on him, ready to shoot at the wrong twitch of muscle. No wonder he wasn’t talkative. “You won’t say that when he will break your neck with two fingers, ‘mam.”

“He’s pretty stable for now. Plus he’s not fully awake, let’s give him time before threatening him, shall we ?”

Nobody moved for ten seconds before one of them complied, since you didn’t move. The rest of the bunch reluctantly followed . You looked at your patient, hoping that that would have made him a bit more relaxed. Nope, he didn’t give a shit. He wasn't even looking at them. He was looking at you. You’re the mystery of this room to him. But you didn’t need extra vision to understand that Docs treated him like a guinea pig, so he was very understandably extra careful with you. Standing on his feet, all his muscles ready for action, that’s the exact moment you realized how close you two were. Indeed, if he decided to, your jaw would fly across the room in a single move. You never had such a display of sheer raw strength, and you could feel the heat of his body radiate.

“He needs a shower, and clothings.” You said, having a look at his 5 years old combat suit still reeking the smell of his sweat. It was intoxicating. They didn’t even allow him to clean himself. Poor dude was frozen in his own filth for the last five years. And you didn’t know why you took an even deeper breath. “And I’m talking about comfy workout clothes, no combat suit. Please escort him and handle him with care, before bringing him to my office.” You actually decided to be sure he wouldn’t be mistreated, by waiting outside the man’s bathrooms. You weren’t certain of how he could react, and you didn’t trust anyone here. If one of them decided to do a piss contest with your patient, it could end badly. So you put your hands in your pockets, looking at the two armed men waiting for the most dangerous assassin in the world to finish scrubbing himself with soap. The atmosphere was heavy and the silence was loud in itself. Even the sound of the shower was stressful and menacing.

When the Soldier was escorted to your improvised office into the archive, directly linked to a storage room that will be your bedroom for the next weeks, you let him take a seat and promptly blocked the access to the room of the two escort members. “Thank you sirs, that will be all. Please wait here.” They look at you like you just told them you were dating their daughters. “Sorry Miss, but we can’t…” “Sorry Doctor , and I can’t work properly with weapons in my office.” You raised your hand, showing your device on your wrist. Something that would not only call for aid by a simple pressure, but could stun an opponent. Neither them nor you were stupid : it wouldn’t stop The Winter Soldier, maybe he would blink a second at most. But you really wanted to be alone with him. Was he dangerous ? Yes. Were you absolutely certain that you would leave this room alive if you closed this door to their face ? No. But it’s been three years since your priority wasn’t your survival anymore. So you forced a smile and slapped the door. They needed you more than you needed them, so they will obey.

“Douchebags.” You muttered to yourself while coming back to your desk. Your patient didn’t even move a muscle at your little argument. He wasn’t totally inexpressive actually, mostly terribly broody. His hair was still wet from the shower he took, wearing cargo pants, heavy boots and hoodies, generic clothes by HYDRA. You got those too, since you’re not allowed to carry anything personal for mission to mission. You had a tablet for books, music and movies, but that was it. You haven’t opened your shelves yet, but you know it’s full of ugly clothes and generic black panties of doom.

You took a large inspiration, sat on your desk in front of him, and started : “Ok ‘Winter Soldier’... how are you doing ?” He didn’t even flinch. He was staring into your soul with his eyes lost into dark circles. Depriving someone of proper sleep is a basic rule for brainwash. “You enjoyed the shower ?” Nothing. You waited for a bit to see if he would finally respond. Ten seconds. Twenty. fourty. a minute. When he gathered that you were actually looking for an answer, visibly a first one for him, he finally gave you the courtesy of one. “Yes.” “Perfect.” You didn’t hide your slight smile and tiled your head. “I’ll be sure you’re in your best condition for your next mission. If something’s on your mind, I need to know about it. Nothing will get out of this room. Both of our priorities are your goal, and your condition is the key to success. Which makes you , my high top priority. Do you understand me ?” “Yes.”

“Ok so let’s get going.” You took another file, and took a picture out, ready to handle it to him. “Is the name : Nicholas Fury, ringing some bells to you?” “Yes.” He took it inside his titanium fingers and finally moved his piercing blue eyes away from you to look at the picture. “In two weeks, you’ll be in Washington DC. An entire squad will be deployed to assassinate him. Fury is the leader of the S.H.I.E.L.D, not a mere target. He will break free and fight back. That will be when you’ll show up.” He wasn’t looking at the picture anymore. One thing for sure : at least he was paying attention to you, and what you were saying. And that made you actually kind of proud of yourself. “That was part one. I’ll personally supervise your training with the VR machine and your physical health and condition. I really need you to communicate with me all the time about anything that could be in your mind. The more focused you are, the more Hydra’s plan will succeed.” And what’s that plan ? You have not a single clue. You were a cog in the machine, disposable. Not much more than him. “Do you understand ?” “I understand.” Oh shit, two words this time!

“Good.” You smiled. He didn’t. You move your hands closer to him, to take a grip on the picture. He opened his prosthetic hand, leaving you to take it back. Nothing in his gesture seems dangerous. Just normal, somehow cordial. “I must ask : are you in any pain right now ?” His eyes significantly get from right to left. He must probably wonder why you are asking him that. Did nobody ever ask him such basic questions like : ‘are you in pain?’ This man's sole purpose was to fight, that made no damn sense for you.

“Sir ?” You insisted for an answer, even if the ‘sir’ sounded absolutely ridiculous to your ears. You didn’t know his name, and you don’t feel comfortable calling him “Winter Soldier” , “Soldier”, “Sir De Winter”, “Hey you,he soviet assassin” so it will be “Sir” for now. “Sir are you in pain right now ?” “I’m not in pain.” A complete sentence, that’s progress. You breathed a bit better “Ok good.” You got up from your desk, which was honestly barely taller that him remaining on his chair. He didn’t let go of your eyes and you decided to make a bold move. For now, he was always being responsive so you slowly moved your hands toward him. To his prosthetic hand. “May I take a look, please ?” You glanced at each other, nobody made the first move. In complete silence, if it wasn’t for both of your breaths. You’re almost sure that it has been at least 5 minutes since you decided to speak again. Slowly, and gently, with no signs of confrontation in your body language or speech. “I will not do it until you comply. And you can refuse the contact.” He didn’t answer right away but he finally nodded.

Slowly, you took his hand into yours, lifting it from his thigh where it was resting. At the beginning it was just taking a look. But he wasn’t making any moves, so you decided to take your observation a little further. You used your other hands to start to move each finger separately, taking a step closer to him. Finally, you made one of your hands slowly sliding into the hoodie, to feel the muscles, the nerves, how it feels like a real arm. It was cold, but you felt it shudder to your touch. That was the line you decided to not take it further.

“Thank you, Soldier.” You said with a smile, taking away your hands from him. You moved behind your desk, opening your notepad to take a bunch of notes, breaking the contact with him. Just a second. But when you raised your eyes again, The Winter Soldier wasn’t in sight.

You shuddered and didn’t make a single move. If it wasn’t for your fingers grasping your desk. You did your best to have a steady respiration and not start to panic. Your throat dried up immediately. You took a deep breath and say : “Please, get back to your seat.” You slowly moved your head to look right back at him. He was standing. His eyes were black, taking loud deep breaths, fixing your behind your shoulder. Tall. Dangerous. You were terrorised. And he could smell it. He didn’t move so you stood up as well, and slowly faced him. You try to remain in total control of your body and not start to fidget. You could scream for help, but for whatever reason, you still had the feeling you could handle the situation. Trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t the first time a patient was disobedient. The only difference was that this one could crush your skull in a bat of an eye,

“Get back.” You said once again, bearing his piercing eyes, but he didn’t budge. So you took out your hand and put it on his chest. You felt like an ant against a mountain, but you pushed him a bit. “We will go nowhere this way.” You resumed trying to get a step closer, even if it will be creating a proximity that could be even more lethal to you. “So please, get back to…”

Something happened. It was obvious, and clear as day : you felt the bulge between his legs. Right above your navel. Hardening even more now that he could feel your body. You decided immediately to repress the shameful feeling of your very inside warming up and tickling you. “Winter Soldier.” You growled, angry but trying your best to remain as professional as you could. Of course, of fucking course. This guy was gorged on serum and hormones, quick, violent actions, and adrenaline. Pumping in his veins, burning 24/7. His body was on the edge all the time, and he just awoke from a dreamless slumber. He was a human, whatever all these idiots were thinking, not a freakin’ cyborg. When was the last time he saw a woman that he didn’t smash the head on a wall ? You even suspected that Pierce was counting on it. Nonetheless, you were alone in an office, literally glued with the world's most dangerous assassin, who was having a massive hard-on. Throbbing against you. You had your share of very awkward situations in your short life time. But nothing, nothing prepared you for this. And you had even less of an idea of what to do because he was doing nothing . He was feeling uncomfortable, that you could say, but he wasn’t really doing any moves to attack you, or even take you. He was standing here, with heavy breathing, his eyes still piercing you. And you slowly slided your gaze to his lips, finding the vision of his hard laboured breath strangely mesmerizing.

Short of ideas, your reflexes took the best (or the worst) of you, and without you realizing it, your hand was around his neck. Your palm pressured on his glottis, and you clearly felt him swallow. As clearly as you felt him becoming even harder. Your breath was starting to shake, as you felt a not-so subtle chill coursing your spin. You drew his face and your face closer, as you finally moved forward, forcing him to move as well. Forcing was a strong word : the last time you hit a punching bag, you hurt yourself and sobbed for an hour. But for whatever reason, he did whatever you wanted. As if he was testing your resolve to make him obey. But there was nothing on his file about this behaviour. He tried to attack, kill and escape. Nothing about testing the limits of anyone.

“You. Will. Sit. Down!” you spat, through your teeth, forcing even more your grip around his neck, as your other hand was reaching for his hair. You pulled it, not too harshly, but you could definitely smell the musk, and the wetness of what stayed of his shower.

You did it. He was sitting down again. And your bodies departed for one another. For once he tried to escape your gaze, which was a strangely human reaction. You both managed to get your breath back, before you decided to call the guard to adjourn your observation.

As soon as the door closed behind them, you felt your legs giving up and you sat on the ground, back against your desk, a small wimp leaving your throat. You felt your eyes starting to wet, and your teeth rattled a bit so you tried to cuddle yourself to try to retake control on your body. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably as his intoxicating smell was still all around you. It was by far one of the most terrifying experiences you ever felt, and it was all clouded by the phantom feeling of his body against yours. You could still feel his gaze, his heat, his… well, his cock against your belly. You were still chilling, trying to repress whatever you were feeling at this instant. Because it wasn’t right, for you. Nor him. Everyone in this godforsaken organisation was treating him like a dog, just here to attack and do tricks, but you swore to yourself not to do the same. You will succeed at your mission, but you’ll do it from the crumbs of humanity and morality that HYDRA left you. You will do anything possible that the mission will be complete, the most painless possible for this broken man you just saw. Wait a second.

Painless .

You jumped on your feet, ignoring the numbness of your legs caused by the shock, and you ran at the door, screaming at the three men at the end of the corridor. “HEY !” The guards startled a bit and looked at you “I changed my mind. Bring the Winter Soldier back to my office.” They briefly exchange what seems to be a bunch of insults about you, but they comply to bring the Soldier back. Him ? He seemed absolutely unbothered.

You closed the door behind the both of you, to the face of the guards yet again. He was standing here, showing his back as you slowly got back in front of him. Hands in your pocket, not really sure of what to do nor how to do it. He was looking at you, this same feeling of unease than before. And for reasons : a small glance confirmed that he was still rock hard. You didn’t make any move for a long time, until you finally put your hand on his chest. You felt his breathing becoming slightly quicker. “You’re not in pain.” You whispered, and he shook his head, negatively. “That was the wrong question. I’m sorry... “ Without you noticing, you had the palm of your hand on his cheek, scrubing lightly his stubble with your thumb as an apology. You breathed in, just couldn’t believe what you were about to say. “Do you need help ?” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes ? They became a bit brighter, you could even see a bit of relief when you saw him nod.

You swiftly move your other index on his pillowy lips as you still lower your voice. “They cannot hear us.” He nodded again as the only feeling of your finger as close to his mouth made him shiver with anticipation. He was literally dying of anything that could relieve him. And for what you understood, as your conversation continued, he trusted you with his body, to provide him with the sweet touch he has been totally deprived of. You slowly push away your index to gently slide your thumb between his lips, and he sighed with pleasure as he took it with an eagerness you would never have believed possible. The most deadly assassin in the world, the legendary Winter Soldier that everyone wishes he wasn’t real, was purring while sucking your finger. If you weren’t the shrink, you’ll be needing one immediately. You gently moved him to make him sit in his chair, he was way too tall for you to handle this with ease. “What about the showers?” You asked him, as you removed your thumb to make it gently slide on his lips, your other hand crawling across his chest to his pants. He swallowed before whispering. “I could but... “ his well built square jaws started to tense, with a visible revulsion. “... They can watch.” Disgusting. He couldn’t even close the damn door of the shower. “You’re safe here.” You said as your hand was finally reaching the bulge behind his Hydra cargo pants. You didn’t know what you expected but… it was way beyond that. He hissed a bit at the feeling of your hand as you started to touch it gently over the fabric.

Now he was panting, looking at you as you were a single oasis after years of thirst in the desert. “Please…” You heard, barely audible when he was starting to lose it. “I got you, but you have to promise me to be good.” “Anything. Please…”

And at your very surprise, you obliged him. Using your hand to plunge into his pants, while the other fast pressed into his mouth, muffing the immediate deep moan that escaped at the very second you touched his pulsing penis. He started panting even more, as he used his flesh arm to drive you onto him. His forehead against yours. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer and closer. Actually you let go of his -massive- erection a second to just drop out his pants, and his breach. You stopped a second, only to watch him begging you with his eyes, as you could feel his saliva at the palm of your hand while you muzzled him. It was it. You realized what kind of power you have over this man. He has been used and abused in every single way, but for once : someone’s finally doing what he wanted. You had his pleasure in your very hands, and for once in years, you could finally help someone. So you’re gonna do it, you’re going to make him feel good. Very good. “Good boy.” You muttered, without knowing where the hell that could come from, and you reached him again. Stroking your hands up and down his shaft, nourishing yourself over the vibration of his muffled moans against your hand. His eyes weren't leaving yours, if it wasn’t for when they seemed to roll to the sky. His vision periodically blackened by the waves of forbidden pleasure he was feeling over his body, who was barely him anymore. Your eyes were gorging on the vision of his handsome muscular man, surrendering himself to your touch, sweating, trembling and panting for you. You were saluted by an utterly satisfied noise the moment you decided to lean over his manhood to drip a large amount of your own saliva moist what was already on the edge of ruin. You rolled your thumb against his tip, massage his veins with just one finger… anything to make him feel something. Anything that wasn’t pure anger, hatred or apathy. You were inclined to believe the file saying that he was nothing but a perfectly built weapon for HYDRA to command. But now, when you tickled, teased and made him shiver, and you felt all his sincere gratitude, you were certain : There is a man in here. And he was finally feeling good .

But soon, it wasn’t enough anymore. Seeing his bare thighs, powerful, thicken by years of training and super soldier serum, tensed by all the nerves and muscles deliciously answering to your call, made your inside warmed up. Your core was aching, screaming for proximity and intimacy, and before you understood what happened, you sat astride on his left thigh. The soft flesh between your legs immediately responded with delight, making you shiver. Almost instantly, you felt his grip on your hip, of the cold metal digging into your flesh with despair. It was a super soldier, with the stamina of several dozen men, but it’s been so long, and you were touching him with perfection. You felt his head on your shoulder, and slowly you started licking his temple, tasting the very fruit of your hard work : his sweat.

Galvanized by his intoxicating smell, and the thrusting he started giving to your hand, you started to move like a snake, rocking against his skin, looking for some pressure despite the fabric of your pants, mercilessly acting like a barrier of your own pleasure. You could get it off, but it was a limit that you forbid yourself to cross. But it’s true, as you were working him, you couldn’t stop yourself to think of how this would feel. Sliding inside you. You were so very short and fragile, and compared to your hand, his phallus was gigantic. He could ruin you, split you in half, using his bare hands and make you do anything. But the only person in control here, were you. And only you. You never felt anything like this before. And it’s highly probable than neither did he. You tried to vanish the thought, but the more you could feel his thigh between yours, the more you became obsessed.

The more he was approaching, the more eager the soldier became. Both of his hands firmly gripped on your behind, almost certain that it will leave bruises, but you didn’t care at this very moment. His grunts against your hands became more and more intense, and you started to feel he was about to give in. In between your fingers, small drips of salivas were started to escape. You couldn’t give up your grip now, so you made it even more tight, drawing your lips closer to your hands, you whispered as your sore wrist fastened its path “I’m here for you. Give everything to me.”

His panting became incontrolable, his eyes rolled out, his head dropped back, before he finally reached his peak. You felt the deep vibration of his ultimate cry on your hand, as your other hand was dripping of hot seed. You slowly removed your other hand from his face, and could contemplate your masterpiece : the Soldier absolutely looked like a mess, with his red face, his eyes blinking furiously, covered with his own saliva. You left his leg, both your hands dripping of his bodily fluids. You used the one that was on his lips to pick his head and forced him to look at you. You ravished your vision of this man who absolutely surrendered to your good care, deeply satisfied with your attention. You cradled his face, and you took a large lick of his spit from his chin to his mouth. Where he leaned for a wet and warm kiss. You took a good taste of him, intoxicated by whatever pheromones he could diffuse around you.

You look at him another few seconds, before recluandly moving away, to the bathroom where you not only washed your hands, but came back with a wet towel. You first cleaned with infinite care his face, and then his genitals, making sure he wouldn’t have any kind of unpleasant sensation as he had a big day ahead of him. You were his doctor and caretaker, and he had a mission to prepare. He seemed to respond well to the cleaning, not really expressive, but he made no sudden move. You could see him sighing with ease, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek in your palm again, when you were caressing him with the wet towel. You could still hear a loud satisfying purr. If you didn’t specifically ask him to kill someone less that an hour ago, you would actually find this absolutely adorable.

You breathed in and out, making sure he was okay. “Are you feeling better ?...” He nodded, visibly relaxed, as he was closing his pants but not much more expressive than before. He stood up, in front of you, like nothing happened. “Yes.” But to your surprise he added a second later. “Thank you, doctor.” You smiled at him as you couldn’t keep yourself from making your knuckles caressing his cheek, and finally tracking the shape of his jaws. “Good boy.” You heard yourself say, wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.He didn’t react. All the shivers, purring, sighing, and moans disappeared as soon as his pants closed. It was for the best, and you quickly took your hand back, clearing your throat. You call the guards. The Winter Soldier was fully ready for his mission preparation, and you asked them to give him some time to recover from… his cryostatic, before you would start the procedure.

In the meantime, you need a shower. A long, hot, steamy, shower.

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 16: Mini Elvis

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot. "Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed." "You knew it was a trap," Percy hissed. Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV." Taking the shield from Percy I shoved it at him. "You're a jerk." Annabeth and Grover caught their breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back. "See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas." The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS. Percy said, "You're kidding." Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job." He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuff Oreos. Percy said, "I don't want your lousy—" "Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving him his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot." I could see Percy gritting his teeth. It was probably a deadly insult to refuse something from a god, but I also didn't want anything that Ares had touched. Reluctantly, he swung the bag over his shoulder. I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us. Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow.

I imagined the headline: TWELVE-YEAR-OLD OUTLAWS BEATS UP DEFENSELESS BIKER. "You owe us one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep my voice level. "You promised me information about our parents." "You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "They're not dead." The ground seemed to spin beneath me. "What do you mean?" "I mean Percy's mom was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept. As for yours, I saw them myself. Upstairs with the big guys. Why do you think you're causing one of the biggest uproar up there? They're refusing to tell who your parent is. No matter how much cut." He smirked. "What...?" Percy and the others must've seen something as they all held me back. "What are they doing to them?" I could feel the ground shake as Percy's grip on me tighten. We'll save them... calm down. Not the hero. Us. So calm down. "Calm down Y/N." Percy whispered. The ground stopped shaking and took a deep breath. "I will make you all kneel." I said. He looked at me confusedly. Then he shrug it off then laughed, "Oh yeah? can't wait, kid." Percy gripped my shoulder. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues." Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed. I felt a hot wind in my hair. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back." He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street. Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy." "I don't care." "You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god." "Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..." He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck. "If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry." I didn't like it, but we had no better option. Besides, I'd seen enough of Denver. We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter. The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped Riptide. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for. Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL! Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur. "This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?" He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and we would've helped him, but just then the trucks engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down. We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but I pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Besides, I had a feeling we might look a lot better to the lion than those turnips. I found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then Percy used Riptide to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope. Grover calmed the antelope down, while I used my knife to cut the balloon off his horn. Annabeth wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for night. Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth opened our bag of Double Stuff Oreos and nibbled on one halfheartedly; I tried to cheer myself up by concentrating on the fact that we were halfway to Los Angeles. Halfway to our destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty-first. We could make it in plenty of time. On the other hand, I had no idea what to expect next. The gods kept toying with me. At least Hephaestus had the decency to be honest about it—he'd put up cameras and advertised me as entertainment. But even when the cameras weren't rolling, I had a feeling my quest was being watched. I was a source of amusement for the gods. And it wasn't helping knowing they're hurting my parents. Here I was risking my life for them and what are they doing? "Hey," Percy cooed, "We'll save them. No matter what. I promised you that." "Okay." Percy pulled me closer until I was resting on him. Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hey, sorry I wasn't much help back at the park... I could've helped getting you guys out... It's just..." She shuddered. "Spiders." "Because of the Arachne story," I guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?" She nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things." "We're a team, remember?" Percy said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying. All we did was grab the shield." I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?" Annabeth, Percy and I laughed. She pulled apart an Oreo, handed me and Percy a half each. "In the Iris message... did Luke really say nothing?" I munched my cookie and thought about how to answer. The conversation via rainbow had bothered me all evening. "Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree." Percy answered. In the dim bronze light of the sword blade, it was hard to read their expressions. Grover let out a mournful bray. "I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along." "You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus." He nodded glumly. "And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp..." Percy looked at Annabeth. "That was you and Luke, wasn't it?" She put down her Oreo, uneaten. "Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us." "I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker..." "Stop it," Annabeth said. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either." "She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably, "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so." "Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair." "Percy's right," Annabeth said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says." Grover kept sniffling in the dark. "It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy." "You're not lame," Annabeth insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now." She kicked me in the shin. "Yeah," I said, which I would've done even without the kick. "It's not luck that you found Thalia and Percy, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan. I mean, you found me despite my scentlessness... is that a word?" Percy muffled a laugh. I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. I waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen sleep. "How does he do that?" I marveled. "I don't know," Annabeth said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him." "I meant it." We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. The zebra munched a turnip. The lion licked the last of the hamburger meat off his lips and looked at me hopefully. Percy didn't take long to fall asleep. Annabeth rubbed her necklace like she was thinking deep, strategic thoughts. "That pine-tree bead," I said. "Is that from your first year?" She looked. She hadn't realized what she was doing. "Yeah," she said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress—now that was a weird summer...." "And the college ring is your father's?" "That's none of your—" She stopped herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." "You don't have to tell me." "No... it's okay." She took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten through his doctoral program at Harvard without her.... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him." "That doesn't sound so bad." "Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain." "You shouldn't give up," I told her. "You should write him a letter or something." "Thanks for the advice," she said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with." We passed another few miles of silence. "Luke actually told me about you two coming to camp already." "Really?" She looked at me amazed. "You two must've gotten close fast." "Well, I don't know. I feel like I had to talk to Luke. Like I had to be there for him. The same with Percy." We have to be there for both "You're not wrong. I'm not sure how I'd be without your help." Percy yawned. "Yeah, I wouldn't have been able to handle him." Annabeth glared at him. I laughed, "I think you two are cute." Both of them blushed and said some excuse to disprove me. Which then turned into them showing off who's better than who. "If I'm dating anyone it'll be Y/N!" Both of them huffed and glared at each other. I shook my head and smiled. At least I've gotten new friends out of this. "So," Percy trailed off. "If the gods fight," he said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?" Annabeth put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you." "Why?" "Because Y/N will and whether I like it or not you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?" "That's all Mr. Peabody." "Shut up, Droopy." I felt her rest on my shoulder and she fell asleep. "Am I that comfortable?" "Yeah," Percy laughed as he rested on my lap. I had trouble following their example, with Grover snoring and an albino lion staring hungrily at me, but eventually I closed my eyes. ~~~ I woke with a start. I was second one awake. Grover was talking to the antelope. "Morning?" "Everyone had the Y/N privilege except me?" "You fell asleep first." I stroked both Annabeth and Percy's hair, which unfortunately woke up Annabeth. "Sorry about that." "It's fine." She yawned. She brought out some Oreo and handed me one. Until the truck stopped. "They're checking the animals aren't they?" Annabeth froze. I shook Percy's shoulder. "The truck's stopped," I said. "We think they're coming to check on the animals." "Hide!" Annabeth hissed. She had it easy. She just put on her magic cap and disappeared. Grover, Percy and I had to dive behind feed sacks and hope we looked like turnips. The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in. "Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances." He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes. "You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face. The lion roared in indignation. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said. Next to me, under the turnip sacks, Grover tensed. For a peace-loving herbivore, he looked downright murderous. The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!" The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at us. There was a loud knock, knock, knock on the side of the trailer. The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?" A voice outside—it must've been Eddie's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?" "What are you banging for?" Knock, knock, knock. Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?" Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer. She said, "This transport business can't be legal." "No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening. "The lion says these guys are animal smugglers!" "We've got to free them!" Grover said. He and Annabeth both looked at Percy, waiting for his say. "Percy, open the lock." I snapped at his face. Outside, Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, but I knew they'd be coming inside to torment the animals again any minute. He grabbed Riptide and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage. The zebra burst out. It turned to Percy and bowed. Grover held up his hands and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing. Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking. We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas. Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!" "Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said. "The other animals first," Grover said. I cut the locks with my knife which wasn't as easy as what Percy had done. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat-blessing he'd used for the zebra. "Good luck," I told the animals. The antelope and the lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets. Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos. "Will the animals be okay?" I asked Grover. "I mean, the desert and all—" "Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them." "Meaning?" "Meaning they'll reach the wild safely," he said. "They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live." "Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" I asked. "It only works on wild animals." "So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned. "Hey!" He protested. "Kidding," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of this filthy truck." We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention. We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick. I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Maybe just a place to get out of the heat for a few minutes, find a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, make a new plan for getting west. We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure. The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?" I'd learned to be suspicious, the last week or so. I figured anybody might be a monster or a god. But my knife wasn't glowing so... I figured. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd love to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa." The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine. "Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key." I stammered, "Um, but..." "No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, loom 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your Lotus Cash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides." He handed us each a green plastic credit card. I knew there must be some mistake. Obviously he thought we were some millionaire's kids. But I took the card and said, "How much is on here?" His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?" "I mean, when does it run out of cash?" He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay." We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever find time to look at the view with a room like this. "Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This place is ..." "Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet." There were clothes in the closet, and they fit me. I frowned, thinking that this was a little strange. I took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I changed clothes, ate a bag of chips, drank three Cokes, and came out feeling better than I had in a long time. Search and find them Huh? Look for them and warn them I came out of the bedroom and found that Annabeth, Percy and Grover had also showered and changed clothes. Grover was eating potato chips to his heart's content, Percy looked like he was having a headache, while Annabeth cranked up the National Geographic Channel. "Percy you okay?" "Yeah it's just.... All those stations," he told Annabeth, "and she turn on National Geographic." "It's interesting." "I feel good," Grover said. "I love this place." Without his even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again. "So what now?" Annabeth asked. "Sleep?" Percy and I looked at each other and grinned. We both held up our green plastic Lotus Cash cards. "Play time," I said. I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. I came from a relatively poor family. Our idea of a splurge was eating out at Burger King and renting a video. A five-star Vegas hotel? Forget it. I spent most of my time playing and... looking for someone I think. I bungee-jumped the lobby five or six times, snowboarded the artificial ski slope, and played virtual-reality laser tag and FBI sharpshooter. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing—where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. I didn't think much of it, but Annabeth loved it. Percy was playing with Grover. I'm not sure when I first realized something was wrong. Probably, it was when I noticed the guy standing next to me at VR sharpshooters. He was about thirteen, I guess, but his clothes were weird. I thought he was some Elvis impersonator's son. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a red T-shirt with black piping, and his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl's on homecoming night. When he saw me he gave a smirk and invited me to play a game of sharpshooters together and he said, "Groovy, man. Been here two weeks, and the games keep getting better and better." Groovy? Later, while we were talking, I said something was "sick," and he looked at me kind of startled, as if he'd never heard the word used that way before. He said his name was Darrin, but as soon as I started asking him questions he got bored with me and started to go back to the computer screen. I said, "Hey, Darrin?" "What?" "What year is it?" He frowned at me. "In the game?" "No. In real life." He had to think about it. "1977." "No," I said, getting a little scared. "Really." "Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening." After that he totally ignored me. I started talking to people, and I found it wasn't easy. They were glued to the TV screen, or the video game, or their food, or whatever. I found a guy who told me it was 1985. Another guy told me it was 1993. They all claimed they hadn't been in here very long, a few days, a few weeks at most. They didn't really know and they didn't care. Then it occurred to me: how long had I been here? It seemed like only a couple of hours, but was it? I then tried to move, but I bumped into a girl. "I'm sorry!" She said. "Hey, no prob." "Oh... uhm... No prob?" "I--- No problem. Say Uh... I kinda lost track of date. What's the year again?" "Huh? It's 1930. Okay, I'm sorry I have to go. I'm looking for someone." Everyone is important in our story "Did you say something?" I go by Y/N L/N, you'll find the one you're looking for at the zombie shooting game. I left her alone and confused. I didn't know why. But I knew now this place is wrong. I tried to remember why we were here. We were going to Los Angeles. We were supposed to find the entrance to the Underworld. My parents... for a scary second, I had trouble remembering their names. I had to save them. I found Percy first. "There's something wrong." We said at the same time. "Years?" He asked. I nodded. We then looked for the others. We found Annabeth still building her city. "Come on," Percy told her. "We've got to get out of here." No response. I shook her. "Annabeth?" She looked up, annoyed. "What? "We need to leave." "Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—" "This place is a trap." She didn't respond until I shook her again. "What?" "Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!" "Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes." "Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever." "So?" she asked. "Can you imagine a better place?" I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game. "Hey!" She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bothered looking at us. They were too busy. I made her look directly in my eyes. I said, "Spiders. Large, hairy spiders." That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—" "I don't know, but we've got to find Grover." We went searching, and found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunter. "Grover!" we both shouted. He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!" "Grover!" He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen. I looked at Percy, and together we took Grover by the arms and dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!" The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?" "We're leaving," I told him. "Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members." He held out the cards, and I wanted one. I knew that if I took one, I'd never leave. I'd stay here, happy forever, playing games forever, and soon I'd forget my parents, and our quest, and maybe even my own name. I'd be playing virtual rifleman with groovy Disco Darrin forever. Grover reached for the card, but Annabeth yanked back his arm and said, "No, thanks." We walked toward the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting. I thought about our room upstairs. We could just stay the night, sleep in a real bed for once.... Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk. It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert. I ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth. We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days. We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.

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@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #Lightning thief #Book 1 #Chapter 16 #Fanfiction #Fanfictions

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wallgirl · 3 years

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The Little Nereid Part 5

2200 words, part five of a nine part fanfiction (it ain’t over til it’s over, babes)

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

Since their conversation that night, Dynamene had been in high spirits. Poseidon seemed so much more tangible, so much closer, now that he had allowed her a glimpse into his mind. She found herself yearning for one more moment with the two of them alone. There was so much more she wanted to know about him. She wanted to hear his thoughts on everything. It was a curiosity stronger than anything else she'd felt.

She spent the following days in a dreamy haze, humming her way through chores and afternoons on the beach with her sisters. It seemed like any moment her thoughts were allowed to wander they travelled back to that night with the black ocean and crystalline sky, and those dark eyes that had held her within for the first time in a thousand years.

"Dynamene," called one of her sisters. Dynamene started from where she had been tracing her fingers absently through the warm sand, lost in her dreamy reverie.

"Yes?" She asked, gathering her wits about her.

"You've been sitting there day-dreaming the whole afternoon," Thoe complained. "I thought you were going to help me wash these shells out. I want to make them into bracelets."

"Oh, right," Dynamene blushed, getting to her feet clumsily. "I'm sorry, I'm coming."

From higher up on the beach, closer to the rocky cliffsides, Ianeira watched her sisters converse. She sighed and shook her head at Dynamene's absent-mindedness. "She's completely out of it."

"Spying, are we?" An unexpected voice came from Ianeira's side. Ianeira smiled wryly as she turned to the speaker

"Bold words coming from you," she quipped at Eione, who had come to lean against the rock next to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, to be honest," Eione shook the water from her strawberry locks. "Just looking at the view. Guess the difference is that you seem to have an ulterior motive. What troubles you?"

"Dynamene has been... rather out-of-sorts lately," Ianeira answered, turning her gaze back to the Nereids on the beach. "I'm worried about her."

"She's just being a young girl, isn't she, though?" Eione asked, following Ianeira's gaze to Dynamene. "We all went through that phase. Some worse than others." She gave a nostalgic sigh.

"Yes, and we all cringe at it when we've come out on the other end," Ianeira replied. "But her case is... different, and not for the better. I just don't want Dynamene to fall into any trouble."

Eione stared at her sister for a few moments before grinning. "This involves Lord Poseidon, doesn't it?"

It was Ianeira's turn to stare at her sister. "Did Actaea tell you?"

"Did Actaea what? No, silly. I heard your conversation at breakfast last week." Eione tapped her ears. "You all always underestimate these ears of mine. Nothing escapes my hearing, even when I'm not trying."

Ianeira sighed in frustration and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I guess it can't be helped, then. Just don't tell any of the others. I don't want anyone else to worry."

"It's too late for that, sister. Everyone already knows," Eione stated matter-of-factly.

Ianeira froze. "Everyone, you say?"

"Oh, Ianeira, look at her!" Eione cried, sweeping her arm down towards the beach. "She's only been acting this way after her birthday meeting with Poseidon! He gave her that bracelet, and she hardly ever takes it off! She spies on him when she sees him pass in the halls! She smiles at him! Do any else of us smile at him?!"

Ianeira bit her lip. "I know. I just don't know how to discourage it..."

"There's no use in that, dear sister," Eione sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "She's completely fallen for him." She looked down towards the beach with a resigned expression.

Ianeira stared at Dynamene in fear. "I am afraid for her."

"You have very right to be. Poseidon really is a sea serpent in a man's skin. If any of the other Olympians asked for our heads on a platter, he'd say, 'whose, and how soon?'" Eione shook her head. "But we can't rein in Dynamene's feelings anymore than we can stop the sunlight. Her feelings are her own."

"I know," murmured Ianeira. "But I have an idea." She briskly turned away. "Swipe Actaea and bring her up to the palace. We need to talk."

"Aye," Eione sighed, running her hand through her frazzled tresses. "I hope you know what you're doing, Ianeira. Too much meddling will only make things worse." She stared back at their youngest sister, hastily sorting shells with Thoe, completely unaware of her elder siblings' exchange. After all, the heart wants most that which it cannot have.

An hour later, Dynamene was following Thoe through the palace, arms laden with sacks of seashells. "Do you really need this much, Thoe?" She whined, shifting the weight in her arms.

"Of course. I'm going to make two for everyone so there's no complaints. I figure that equals out to about 40 shells per sister. Of course, a few will break in the process, so make that closer to 45. Then, multiplying that by every sister, of which there are 49... oh, I shouldn't forget one for Nerites..."

Dynamene groaned silently as she listened to Thoe ramble on, but then a subtle shift in the air nearby caused her to halt. It was a sensation she'd been in-tuned to ever since that night on the beach; the ever-so faint sound of Poseidon's heartbeat.

She quickly set the sacks down, and Thoe turned to look at her in bewilderment. "What - where are you going?" She cried as Dynamene took off down the hall.

"Just the bathroom, I'll be right back!" Dynamene called, her voice distracted. She hadn't had the chance to talk to him since then; she couldn't let herself miss this opportunity.

He was headed out the main doors to go to the ocean. Dynamene sprinted at first to catch up before skidding to a halt just out of sight. Her heart pounded with indecision. Should she make her presence known? Then again, he must already know that she was close by.

"Dynamene," Poseidon said with his back still turned. She jumped before shyly stepping forward from behind the pillar.

"Lord Poseidon," she said quietly.

"Hadn't we already spoken about spying?" he asked, turning partially to look at her.

"I'm not spying, my lord. Just observing," she replied boldly, twisting her hands.

"Hm." He turned away and continued through the open doors out onto the deck. Dynamene remained where she stood, bashfully looking at her hands.

"Weren't you following me?" He called without breaking his stride. She gave a gasp of happy surprise before taking his cue to resume following him, this time close to his side.

""I haven't seen you since last week," she said quietly. "You must be very busy, per usual."

"Movement of tectonic plates in the western Indian Ocean was causing unwanted activity," he said matter-of-factly. "I decided to check in on it myself, seeing as no one else is qualified to do so."

"Ah, yes," Dynamene bumbled. "Tectonic plates. I forget that they call you the Earth-shaker as well."

Poseidon's gaze flitted to the side for a moment. Was he annoyed, or... amused?

"So you'll be spending more time there for the foreseeable future, I take it?" She asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"It shouldn't take more than a week. Fixing the problem requires a delicate balance, but nothing I haven't handled many times in the past."

"Mm," Dynamene responded, not sure what to say. It wasn't like she had a deep understanding of his work, but she did know what tectonic plates were, and that their movement was capable of causing disaster. Perhaps it was a bigger deal than he was letting on. "Please don't strain yourself," she whispered. She knew he might take the statement as a slight, but she was earnest in her sentiment.

His eyes shifted to her face. "You concern yourself with my well-being?"

That wasn't the response she'd expected. Her face flushed an even deeper red. "I mean no disrespect, my lord."

"It is not possible for me to strain myself. I am a god. The ocean and its movements are my purpose. Concern yourself no longer." Poseidon's words weren't those of anger, but of fact.

"Of course," she murmured. "I have faith in you and your abilities. You are the god of the seas."

By now they had arrived down to the beach. They had come a good distance from the palace, and Dynamene realized they were headed towards a small cove just a little further off. She wondered what his purpose was in going there.

Once they were in the cove, still and serene aside from the splashing of sapphire waves, Poseidon halted. Dynamene waited as he took in the horizon, seemingly scanning for something.

"Come closer," he said, kneeling at the foot of the waves. She stepped forward and knelt beside him, their arms nearly brushing. He took her hand in his and held it into the cool water. Dynamene stared, trying not to come undone from the unexpected contact.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, and she did. Just like before, a surge of energy flowed from him to her. Her eyes darted underneath her eyelids, searching the imagery that filled her mind. There was a vast darkness - the seafloor, perhaps? - then a glint of something orange. Those must be underwater volcanoes. A sudden loud boom, almost deafening despite the fact that she wasn't really hearing it, sounded, making her body jolt and her eyes fly open.

"Those are the plates shifting," he explained. "That's the sound they make as they run against each other. That sound has been repeating for several days. The sea life around it is getting agitated." His gaze rose back to the horizon. "I must return to the fault soon and break up the edges that are making that hideous noise. Only then will the area return to peace."

Dynamene realized that he was still holding onto her hand, and her heart skipped a beat. This time, his grasp was rather gentle, as if he were afraid she'd break if he used too much strength. She was getting up the courage to squeeze his more tightly when, to her disappointment, he pulled away.

They stood, and Dynamene followed his gaze out to the ocean, fascinated. "It's amazing that you can sense all that," she whispered, eyes wide. "I'm a sea-nymph, but I had no idea... It's incredible."

"It is a sense that can improve through practice. Continue using it and you'll be able to pick up on more." Poseidon began to retrace their steps back to the palace. "I needed to check up on the situation anyways. Things are getting worse; I must return as soon as possible."

Dynamene's face fell at the mention of him leaving once more. "I see." She tagged along behind him at a larger distance this time. "Say..." She swallowed hard. "Could... Could you maybe take me along there someday? The deep-sea vents and the strange fish... It all looked so fascinating."

He paused and turned back to her once more. She stared up at him earnestly, seeing her own reflection in his eyes. His eyes trailed down to her wrist, where the bracelet sat faithfully in its place of honor on her wrist. Dynamene followed his gaze, confused.

"You're wearing the bracelet," he said quietly.

Dynamene blushed. "Of course. It is... beloved to me." Her fingers lingered gently on the glistening beads.

"You weren't wearing this beloved gift when we spoke on the beach," he replied.

Dynamene's skin prickled in embarrassment. I wasn't wearing it because I was upset with you. "I wasn't sure if I should wear something so fine to the water." Why are you bringing this up now? Did me not wearing it bother you?

Poseidon stepped closer to her, and she stopped breathing. She knew he heard her heart racing, but she wasn't ashamed anymore. It wasn't like she could hide it anyways. At least she could hear his now as well, just as steady and rhythmic as before.

"I will give you another," he said, his words rather quiet. "It's dull to wear just one bracelet. A pair is more suitable."

Dynamene's eyes widened. Her thoughts momentarily shut-down in the face of his offer. "I will gladly wear both," she answered after she'd drawn a breath. "I promise."

"I know," he said simply.

She was unable to hold back a wide smile of joy. The one bracelet for her birthday had been more than enough, and now she was going to receive a second? She knew the gesture was not meaningless... But what, exactly, did it mean?

His expression was less rigid as he took in her smile. Then he continued to walk once more. "I cannot waste any more time. I have an audience to hear before I return to the Indian Ocean."

Dynamene's eyebrows rose. He heard audiences at most thrice a year, so this was unexpected news. "An audience? I hope it's not anything - or anyone - bad."

"No," he responded simply. "The audience is your sisters."

Dynamene halted, her expression filled with shock. An audience with my sisters... about what? I wasn't told anything.

Deeply concerned, she ran to catch up to him.

---

Author’s Notes: This chapter took a little longer once again. Like before, I ended up rewriting part of it, but that’s fine. I once again ended up closer to my vision by doing so. I wanted to have it up last night, but a headache kept me from finishing it.

Dynamene is a bold girl sometimes, isn’t she? But now that she knows Poseidon won’t kill her, she doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. not about dying anyways

Okay, but was he going to kill her in part 4? He was prepared to, depending on what she said. He brought his trident for a reason.

But he could’ve killed her for listening in either way, so why didn’t he?

Because, deep down, he does have a soft spot for the Nereids. They’re ocean spirits, and they’ve made up his court for a thousand years; that’s as close as it gets for him. Killing one Nereid means pissing off the rest of the family, and that’s a hassle to deal with. Also... her feelings for him are interesting to him, and not something he’s dealt with from anyone else before. At least, no one he knows. Perhaps he’s selfish and doesn’t want to lose that.

Maybe there’s more to it, but that’s what he tells himself.

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon x oc #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #fanfiction

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philliamwrites · 3 years

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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.4]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 7.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Chapter 04: Demands of the Faithful

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.

[Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A.H.H.]

“I’m glad you could make time,” Byleth says, carefully placing her fine cup on the small bottom plate. If she notices how uncomfortable you feel, sitting in the centre of the yard, drinking tea, she ignores it. “Let’s think together about what we want to teach during the mock battle.”

“This is a bad idea,” you say, nibbling on your cup. “A very bad idea.”

The late afternoon hours are quiet, but it certainly helps that the tea arrangement is tugged away in a far off corner in the courtyard, hidden behind tall hedges that allow privacy. The sweet smell of chamomile tea and strawberry pastry is a nice exchange from the usual savoury smells you’re used to in the cafeteria. All around you, the high, spiky roofs of the monastery’s towers stand out against the fiery, orange sky, throwing longer and longer shadows as the sun sets behind the mountains. The clouds are soft, pink cotton-candy, blushing at the warm touch of the sun.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Byleth continues, cutting through a piece of cake with her fork. “We’ve seen what the house leaders are capable of. It’s time to see what the rest of the students can do.”

“Don’t take me wrong. I think a mock battle will help them grow,” you agree. “I just don’t really understand why it’s me who has to lead the Blue Lions.”

“I think Professor Hanneman is not present at the day of the mission,” Byleth explains. “It seems on the last day of Lone Moon he always leaves the monastery for a private reason. And I assume Lady Rhea means to see the extent of your power.”

That’s what you expected as well. In the last couple of days you realised your power is a muscle, to be exercised daily, never to be pushed to the extreme. It was a strenuous task to try out how much is too much; where there’s still room. Under the keen eyes of Hanneman, you two practised day after day, trying to figure out how much your body can take before exhaustion sweeps over you and renders you immobile. Crests usually don’t have a limit; depending on their nature they grant a permament boost to the bearer’s abilities. Muttering under his breath, Hanneman had made quite a show to remind you what a curiosity the Crest of the Herald is. Like you wouldn’t know.

“Since we’re going to be on the field as well, you might want to get more practice with the sword,” Byleth proposes, and you groan. She has a way of being brutally honest, and so far no one’s been spared to get the brunt of it. “I’m not letting my students hold back. Not even against you.”

“You really are a voice of confidence, you know.” Shoulders drooping like someone took the wind from your sails, you throw your head back and drink the rest of your tea. Byleth’s expression doesn’t change, and you wonder why you even try being funny around her.

After clearing the table, Byleth accompanies you to your next lesson hall. It’s nice in theory, but her vigorous way of trying to drill sword techniques into your head on the way doesn’t hide her true agenda. Only slowly, you begin to realise that is maybe her way of caring for someone. Brutish in appearance, but once you look past the first impression of indifference, Byleth’s silent demeanour speaks louder than words.

Students linger in small groups in front of the class rooms, their exhausted faces from a full day of lessons and hard training visible in the way they carry their bodies. If you had a say in it, you’d cancel the evening lessons and let them rest; a reoccurring debate inside the faculty that doesn’t go anywhere. Byleth stops in front of the class room, surveying the students with a cool gaze, when suddenly Claude and Hilda jog towards you, and by “jogging” they decided Hilda to be the only one running while carrying Claude bridal style like he weighs nothing. As they pass you, Claude tips an invisible hat in your direction, calling “Hey, teach,” and then immediately “Bye, teach!” as they cross the courtyard.

Your gaze follows them. “What just happened.”

Byleth doesn’t even bother to look. “Claude and Hilda happened.”

Heavens, you don’t know if you’re able to handle them later.

After exchanging goodbyes with Byleth, you tackle the next forty minutes with a belly full of sweets and a mind occupied with worrying about everything you might do wrong next week. Forming two groups, you hand out two different manoeuvres you dug out of books, and present the task, “Work out the pros and cons of each battle tactic, and present them to the class. Explain where you would have done things differently, and why.”

Sylvain raises his hand.

“Yes, you can leave to bathroom breaks without asking me,” you say.

Sylvain drops his hand. Then raises it again.

“No, you can’t bring animals you find on your way back to your seat,” you say.

He drops his hand. Beside him, Ingrid fails to stifle a groan.

Twenty minutes later, the first group stands in front of the class. Mercedes’s steady hand draws the perfect copy of the manoeuvre on the chalk board while Annette recites every step flawlessly. They’re a powerful combination, and that’s only half owed to their friendship. Mercedes is soft; she’s the silk hiding the dagger that Annette’s sharp mind is. There’s strength in kindness, and both have honed this ability to a razor-sharp weapon. There’s still a pouch of unfinished cookies Mercedes has baked for you left in your room, something to keep in mind for the next tea hour with Byleth. Felix and Dedue don’t add much, and you’re a little afraid to ask, seeing how Felix’s eyes burn holes in the back of Dedue’s head. There’s been rumours going on about a dispute, but no details, and you gladly leave that sort of teacher-student business to Hanneman.

The remaining students do their job almost just as good. But the thought of children being so confident in ways of war and killing leaves a painful twinge in your chest. You wonder what will become of them all in a few years, what battles they will win. What battles they will lose—this fear lingers at the edges of your consciousness like an ever-present shadow. To push it away, you try to refocus on the task at hand.

“Look at the battalions you have,” you advise, tapping a finger against the cool surface of the board. It comes away white with chalk, leaving a white smudge on your robe as you wipe it off. “Where are they placed?”

Ashe clears his throat. “Two Lance Soldiers, that’s Infantry. One Magic Squadron, also Infantry. The latter is stationed far northeast on that island. Two Pegasus Corpses, which are Flying Types. We put them behind the mountains to ambush the enemies on their way to one of our Infantries.”

“A good idea in theory,” you acknowledge, and don’t miss how Ashe exhales in relief. “And where are you enemies?”

“They’re facing our Infantry and the Squadron,” Dimitri steps in now. “The Flying Unit engage from the back. After their victory, Infantry and Flying close the last opposite unite off on the bridge, and join the Magic Squadron in fighting.”

“Okay, okay,” you nod. “And now look at the terrain of this last unit you want to take on from the front and back. The one on the bridge moving towards the Squadron.”

The room is quiet for a minute, and then a silent “Oh” from Ashe.

“Yes. Oh. The Magic Squadron moves slower through the woods. You’ll lose them. And one of the Lance units is probably the next to go.” You draw sharp lines across the board with red chalk, changing the battalion’s movements. One goes across the whole board, crossing out the word Sea. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to have your Pegasus Companies move this way across the water, join the Magic Squadron and then close in from the right to join the Infantries?”

“But Herald.” Ingrid raises her hand, but doesn’t wait for you to pick her. “If Infantry and Flying take out the first enemy, we’ll still win. The remaining unit will be trapped on the island without a possibility to retreat. Wouldn’t it be wiser to sacrifice the Magic Squadron just for that?”

“I agree with Ingrid,” says Sylvain. He’s sitting on a desk, and swings his legs back and forth. “With or without them, we won the battle, and that’s what matters.”

You turn back to scan the manoeuvre one more time. They’re right—blocking the enemy’s escape routes off proves a solid guarantee to win, and yet you’ve somewhat hoped they wouldn’t settle on this option. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, turning your lips upside down as if you’ve bitten into a lemon.

“Sometimes, you don’t want to win the battle,” you start slowly, the thought blossoming from a dark place deep inside you. “Sometimes you want as many as possible to live.” Which is easier said than done, and no one in the room agrees on your statement because they know just as much that such a choice isn’t always granted. Before the silence stretches on too long, you quickly add, “I guess it is more important to know there is no right or wrong answer. You make decisions later on that will either grant you victory or death, and you will have to live with those decisions.”

Unanimous murmur sounds from the students, a topic nobody wants to dwell on too long, and you grant them that wish; this precious little time they’re still allowed to be children and make mistakes before responsibilities catch up to them. The rest of the lesson flies past without disturbances, and when the bells announce the break, they jump from their seats and scurry outside.

“Don’t forget there’s going to be a test after the mock battle,” you call after them, knowing they’ll forget anyway and then boycott. The Lions are finally done with lessons, but there is the Deer House who have the misfortune to attend the last period of the day. As you prepare their unit of instruction on different terrains, Dimitri approaches you, his expression a mixture between confidence and tension.

“Herald.” He stops in front of your desk, shoulders squared into a declaration of deference. “I have prepared instructions on everyone’s weaknesses and strengths. Please, do consider to take a look. Since one of the rules is that only six units will be stationed on the field, I hope this will make your decision easier who to choose.” Placing the papers with outmost care on your table, Dimitri hesitates a moment before continuing, “What you said earlier … truth be told, I think the same. To limit the loss of lives as much as possible should be a priority to a leader as well. To hear that from someone like you … I was quite glad.”

“Someone like me,” you repeat, but you’re more surprised to feel your fingers itch to take the papers and get a first read on everyone. After going through similar notes from Linhardt, you’re now excited to learn more about your proteges, and with luck someone from the Golden Deer students might provide you with a first survey as well.

“Someone responsible for tactics and strategy,” Dimitri quickly clarifies. “Someone tasked with bringing absolute victory.” He gives you a look that is somehow both caressing and calculating at the same time. “I understand that those sometimes compete with one’s own beliefs regarding the value of life. One’s conscience is as much of a weapon as a sharpened blade. If it breaks, what use is there to a person.”

“Those are … some mature thoughts.” You don’t know where this observation goes. Of course he is mature, he has to be as the successor of a noble lineage. “For someone your age.” You press your mouth into a thin line, cursing your inability to think of a better response. But Dimitri simply smiles—a smile that is like a light suddenly being turned on in every room of a dark house.

“Oh, but I do not want to bore you with such matters. I just wanted to add, I really do look forward to have you on our side during the mock battle.” He gives a little courtesy bow. “Let us discuss the details on the day before the mission. A good evening to you, Herald.”

Dimitri leaves with a little bounce to his step. It’s probably better he’s in high spirits, even though you aren’t sure what exactly made him happy. It would be a real shame to extinguish his excitement by being an utter failure during the battle, so you make sure to read whatever he managed to put together about his classmates as soon as possible. There’s still some minutes left before the first Deer students will enter. Exhaustion lulls you into resting your eyes, and the moment your head is cradled in your arms, you doze off.

It’s the third time you have this dream after joining the Officer’s Academy, though calling it a ‘dream’ is a stretch—there is nothing happening, nothing to see. Only white, as pure and unblemished as a young lily blossom in early spring. Only this time this picture—maybe a memory, but of what or where you can’t say—is different.

Wake up, a voice whispers, barely recognisable and dull, spoken behind a wall of water. Wake up.

Your hands weigh a ton. Unable to reach out and grasp it, the dream blurs, slipping through your fingers like sand.

Wake up.

“Herald, wake up,” Claude persists. “You’re drooling on my test papers.”

His hand brushes your shoulder and you jump, all focus on the dream dispersing. Multiple voices fill the room in a shower of sounds, not helping to regain your senses of where you are. It doesn’t help that your right eye throbs dully, and as you rub it to somehow reduce the sensation, white spots dance across your vision.

“So sorry, Herald,” Claude smirks with his hand still hovering over your shoulder. “Didn’t mean to wake you from your beauty rest, but Hilda planned to draw obscene things on your face, and we can’t have that now, can we.”

“Liars never prosper, Claude!” comes Hilda’s response from somewhere in the back of the room. You groan, narrowing your eyes at him. Going back to sleep and stumbling about to try and figure out what’s going on sounds more pleasing than dealing with Claude’s shenanigans.

“Man, what a bummer you won’t join our House during the mock battle,” he continues as if Hilda hasn’t said anything. “If someone asked me, I think to have you fight for the Blue Lions is cheating.”

“But no one asked you?” you offer, indulging him with a weak smile.

“The audacity, right?” Claude rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, leaning against the teacher’s desk. “Just imagine the brilliant schemes we two could work out. Oh, I have an amazing idea. How about you ask Lady Rhea—”

“I’m not asking to be by your side during the battle.”

“Ouch.” Claude places a hand over his chest, right above his heart. “Immediately shut down. Who knew our dearest Herald would be such a heart breaker.”

You shoo him away, not only because he’s getting on your nerves, but there’s also Ignatz and Raphael standing in line, waiting for your attention.

“We’ve heard the students from the other Houses gave you some insight in their abilities,” Ignatz says, tugging a stack of papers to his chest. “We decided to give you one as well.”

“I’m sure you’ll like them,” Raphael chimes in, looking more excited than usual. “I gave Ignatz instructions on how to make our report the best. Forget boring words, Herald, we’ve prepared the real deal!” He rips the papers from Ignatz’s hands and slams them on your table. A crack sounds on the underside, and Raphael leans his whole weight upon the surface, completely oblivious to the protesting creak of the wood.

“Here, we started with Claude, since he’s the big shot and all that,” he explains, opening the first page. It shows Claude, a surprisingly accurate portrait of him, if not a little bit scrawny. He’s wielding a bow, nocking multiple arrows. Seems like Raphael wasn’t the only one giving instructions.

“And here is Leonie, and there’s Lorenz, and oh! That’s us working together as a team!” Raphael beams as he turns the page. In this picture, everyone is assembled, fighting against angry looking soldiers and horned monsters. There’s Lysithea and Marianne shooting lightning bolts from their hands, zapping their opponents. Raphael is carrying a huge stone, on top of it stands Hilda, wielding a mighty axe.

“These are the most accurate file reports I’ve seen,” you say for lack of better words. “It really is a shame I can’t join you for the mock battle.”

“There’s gonna be a next time, no worries!” Raphael gives you a thumbs up, then retreats to his seat, Ignatz by his side. They’re a funny duo, not just because of their different build. Their personalities seem the complete opposite, and yet strangely fit like a child’s box to sort blocks into the right shapes.

The difference between the Golden Deers and Blue Lions, for one, is the noise level. Instead of waiting for you to call them up one by one, they love to shout answers whenever they see fit. Judging who was the first isn’t really easy when four people scream at the same time, so you’ve given up on that—Claude’s policy whoever screams loudest didn’t help all too much as well. Maybe it’s time to ask Byleth about some tips how to handle them. When the bell tolls for the last time for this day, announcing everyone to be relieved of their work, the student clear out faster than during fire drills, leaving you with a turmoil of thoughts and worries and two little voices bickering about how much of a disaster next week is going to be.

After seven days and nights of restless sleep and vigorous training under the vicious supervision of Byleth, the green fields stretching before you end boarding on lush woods, its treetops protruding into the sky. It’s a wonderful day you would enjoy much more without knowing this is a battle field, and the people behind you wait for your command.

“Black Eagle and Golden Deer are in position. Captain Jeralt said the mock battle begins in roughly ten minutes.” Dedue gives you an expectant look, and you give him a curt nod, your mouth dry.

“Thanks. We’ll have a last briefing. After that, we’ll deploy our units.”

Dedue joins his classmates, leaving you to your troubled thoughts. With luck, none of your opponents will reach you, and you won’t have to fight. It’s as if you can feel Byleth’s taste for your blood all across the field, even though right now she’s just a blurry, dark blob in the distance, surrounded by her students.

“Do not worry, Herald.” The hard metal of a gauntlet on your shoulder makes you flinch, backing away from Dimitri. The worry on his face is a mirror of your own, albeit for different reasons. “Everyone will do their best to follow your orders, and fight with everything they've got. Your leadership will lead us to victory.”

“Oh, yeah!” You don’t meet his eyes. “For sure.” Zero pressure and all that. You don’t say that, seeing that most of the students don’t appear to be as nervous as you. Confidence is key, and even though you see none of it in tangible proximity, you can at least fake it until you make it.

Six minutes left. With a deep breath, you try to get hold of yourself, and face the Lions.

“Since we don’t know who will be deployed by Manuela and Byleth, prepare for everything. I want to split the group. Dimitri, Dedue and Mercedes move to the northern forest. Felix, Sylvain, you’re moving west with me.”

Felix pulls a grimace, but before he can say anything, Sylvain throws an arm around his shoulders and leans on him, gracing you with a full grin. “We got your back, Herald.” He earns a whack on his back from his friend.

“Why are we splitting up if our plan is to take out each group separately?” Dedue inquirers. “Isn’t that what we agreed on before?”

“I think the Herald plans to let our opponents think we plan on taking them both on at the same time.” Dimitri throws a quick glance at you. “We’ll draw them in our direction, and once they are near, we close in from both sides.”

You nod. “Precisely. We know the Black Eagles will start far north from us. The Golden Deers are northwest. As soon as one of them moves towards us, we’ll have to defeat them immediately. It will be easier fighting one House, not both at the same time.”

“Look at you, Your Highness.” Sylvain pats him on the shoulder, looking proud. “Someone’s been paying attention in class!”

“Sylvain—” Dimitri’s chiding meets deaf ears as Sylvain already turns away, checking his lance for a last time. But he does beam a little, you think. Or maybe it’s just the sun making everything look much brighter. It’ll go into your report nonetheless. Chances of a victory look good—even if you have to retreat, the Blue Lions might make it on their own.

The bressy sound of a horn echoes across the valley, reverberating in your bones. The mock battle begins.

The weight of the wooden training sword hanging from your hip is foreign; it’s as though you only expect to trip over it. Determined to keep it in its holster, you approach the grove, flanked by Sylvain and Felix—and not a minute too soon. Moving towards you is the first line of enemies, Ignatz, Lorenz and Marianne.

“I think they didn’t see us—” Sylvain starts just as the first arrow flies past his head and hits the trunk beside him with a thunk. For safety purposes, all arrow’s tips are wrapped up in stiff cloth, not intended to leave permanent wounds but surely still capable to deliver nasty bruises like the training swords and lances.

“I think they saw us—” Sylvain’s brilliant new observation ends in a yelp as Felix shoves him out of the line of fire.

“Get down, dumbass!”

You three duck behind bushes and trees, cautiously observing how the others advance, their weapons drawn.

“I’ll go for Ignatz,” you say. “Felix, you’re fast enough to reach Marianne and take her down before she starts healing everyone.”

“Fine, we’ll try your plan.” Felix has his sword drawn already, gripping it tight enough his knuckles turn white. “Try not to get kicked out too soon, will you.”

You blow a strand of hair from out of your eyes, squinting at his back as he jumps out of cover. The last couple of weeks you’ve put in some extra hours of sword practice with Felix. As an exceptional swordsman, noble and diligent in his training unlike anyone else—safe maybe for Dimitri—you imagined no one could teach you as much as possible in the short amount of time until the mission. It took some convincing, but the decisive argument that sold him was your desire to become better to finally have at least a chance against Byleth. If she is stern during practice, Felix is vicious, exploiting the tiniest opening you give in order to make you learn from your mistakes. Your body was a medley of pain and aches after every evening, but now the memory of that very same melody is your marching song towards battle. Then there’s always the knowledge that if you three can distract them long enough before the rest of the Golden Deer students arrive, Dimitri and the rest will close in on your position, and taking down your opponents won’t be difficult.

“Sylvain, Lorenz is yours.”

He answers with a simple salute, grip tight around his training lance, and as you both follow Felix out in the open, an image flickers before you, there and gone like a flame going out with a last glint. An arrow, headed straight at you. Your body moves in instinct, dodging the projectile not a second too late. Judging from the direction of its origin, Ignatz must be just beyond the rocks only a few hundred yards away. You throw a MiasmaΔ in his direction, the black ball carving its path across the grasslands. It hits the stone, chipping parts away and revealing Ignatz, crouching behind it. He looks up, dirt on his cheeks, and adjusts his glasses before ducking out of his cover, another arrow already ready on his bow.

Another arrow hits him on his back, hard enough to get him down on his knees. Mercedes’ accuracy isn’t as good as Ashe’s, but the determination carved into her face makes up for lack of skill. Dimitri and Dedue are right on her heels, but a single look thrown over your shoulder shows that Felix and Sylvain have everything under control. Coming out victorious as well, save for Sylvain pressing a hand against his ribs, they were still complete. The knowledge of that makes you sigh in relief, a new surge of hope soaring inside you.

“I knew we shouldn’t have listened to Claude’s dubious plan.” Lorenz’s bickering is still audible, even as the three proceed to leave the battle grounds to meet up with Jeralt. You’re really curious to see what exactly Claude had in mind, but diverting your focus for just a second could become dangerous. Instead, you turn towards the students.

“Stay close,” you order, waiting until Mercedes is finished checking Sylvain's injuries. “We’re going to move further towards the Golden Deers and eliminate them first.” Flexing your fingers against the slow growth of getting used casting spells, your group begins to move further north.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Dimitri buckling and unbuckling his spear from his back. Out of lack for the right words, and because the first rush of adrenaline still courses through your body, you jostle against him, wearing a grin on your face.

“Look lively, Your Highness,” you advise. “All that nervous fumbling isn’t what a leader is supposed to do.”

A tiny gasps leaves him, more an exhale than anything else, but he turns towards you, slightly flushed. Bringing his hands to his sides, it’s too obvious he’s tensing his body so they don’t stray again—like a statue that’s on the edge of shattering at the tiniest movement.

“You’re right, of course.” He lowers his head a little. “I just keep thinking that the Black Eagle students wait for us in that direction as well. Some are surely moving towards us as we speak.”

“Are you worried about Byleth?” you wonder, and more as an afterthought add, “Or Edelgard?”

“Anyone who is not worried about Byleth is a fool, if you ask me,” he replies with a crease between his pale eyebrows. “And well, this is our first chance to prove ourselves, being the heirs to the ruling factions. I know Edelgard is exceptionally strong. And Claude surely has an ace up his sleeve. You are right, Herald. Nervousness is a sign of hesitation, of weakness. I will be better than that.” A new fire comes alive in his eyes as he strides onward, catching up to Mercedes and Sylvain to compliment her on the excellent shot from before.

The epiphany really comes only now, fast and hard like a lightning bolt, that these children will drink in everything you have to offer—advices, orders, simple words of encouragement—simply for the title that is strapped around your neck. The weight of that responsibility slows your steps, which allows for another worry to quickly catch up: has everything you have taught them so far been right? Do they really know how to exploit the advantages certain classes have over others; will a strategic retreat even occur to them in the right time before it’s too late.

Doubt is like poison, slowly eating you from the inside. This mock battle won’t just be a lesson for the students. It will also test if you have put them on the right path, and the realisation unfolds a new conviction inside you, breathing new wind into your sails.

You quickly catch up to them, another rush of encouraging words on your lips when another image flickers on and off, painting your sight red. You freeze, raising an arm, hand formed into a fist.

“Halt!” you shout, processing what you just saw. The students pause, forming a loose circle around you. The throbbing from before settles back in, more persistent now like someone’s knocking against the back of your skull to get your attention. You try to ignore that and focus on categorising every student’s ability in alphabetical order.

“Linhardt,” you gasp, eyes wide open and glued on Dedue.

The students exchange worried glances. Sylvain is the first to speak. “No, Herald,” he says. “Linhardt’s the pretty boy with all the books, you know. Who sleeps just about anywhere, like a cat. That’s our Dedue here.”

“No, I mean Linhardt has Nosferatu,” you quickly explain, flailing your hands in hope to express yourself better. It doesn’t look like it helps. “Linhardt is the only one left who can use Nosferatu, and he’s going to land a good hit on Dedue. And with good, I mean bad. If he hits you, you’re down, Dedue.” Because only that makes sense, as Marianne is already standing on the sidelines and you haven’t heard about anyone else learning the skill. Undoubtedly a Nosferatu will hit Dedue if you don’t change course or take the spell caster out first.

Dedue steps forward. “Should it give us an advantage against our enemy, I will gladly face the opponent and go down if it means it won’t interfere with our progress towards the Golden Deer students.”

“Sacrificing yourself for a mere praise from the boar, is that what you hope for?” Felix demands, or more like snarls, his handsome face crumpling into an ugly look of contempt. “Pathetic.”

“Sacrifice is a big word to throw around during a mock battle, don’t you think,” Sylvain unhelpfully throws in, his posture a little too relaxed in the light of the conflict that’s about to break out.

Dedue shakes his head. “I am simply fulfilling my duty,” he states. “Anything that will bring His Highness victory.”

“You would also run head first into an ambush and get yourself killed, is that it?” Felix grimaces. “Blindly following orders—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Your raised voice makes them pause, and you use that second to grab lead of the conversation. “We don’t even know if Linhardt is going to be alone or joined by other Eagle students. What do you think will your little act accomplish, Dedue?”

He sets his mouth into a grim, hard line, unable to come up with a satisfying answer that isn’t a repeat of what he just said.

“You’ll have a tough time going against Black Eagles with all their magic users, so stay with Dimitri. Go and deal with the rest of the Golden Deer students. And you—” You meet Felix’s glare with narrowed eyes. “A battlefield isn’t the place to throw around petty disagreements. You would do well to remember that.”

“Understood.” He rips the training sword from its holster. “But let me go take down that mage. I’ll cut him down swiftly.”

“We’ll go together. I’m not leaving any of you on your own. Take care of Claude,” you tell Dimitri, showing with a nod that you fully trust in his leading ability. “We’ll meet east from the barricades in exactly one hour.”

He doesn’t shy away from you glare. “Understood. Take care you two.”

Felix takes the lead with long, eager strides. As you follow him, you rub your eye, wincing at the pinprick-like pain. The dull throb doesn’t cease this time, and if you had to take a guess, there’s only once left for the Crest to activate before you reach your limit. So far, nothing has helped you to ascertain when exactly a foresight occurs, and leaving it to pure chance is like grasping a loose rope in hopes that it is tied to something somewhere as you take the leap. Maybe Hanneman will make more sense of it laters.

“You should have stayed with the others,” Felix says after a moment, scanning your surroundings for any sign of the enemy. It sounds more like a simple statement than an accusation. “I can handle someone like Linhardt on my own.”

“I said before, we don’t know if he’s alone. I highly doubt it.” It’s like Dimitri said before: Underestimating Byleth will surely end in casualties and defeat. You don’t consider it far-fetched that she has sent a non-magic class with Linhardt, but who that will be is left to be determined.

“No matter how many accompany him. Be it two or three or all of them, I will take them down.”

“It takes more than one person to win a war.” Though you don’t doubt Felix might try it by himself anyway. “You’ll notice soon enough that you will rely on your comrades.”

“I will rely on them as long as they don’t get in my way.”

“So charming,” you mumble to yourself as you two round a mound. It really is none of your business, but you're actually curious about what is going on between him and Dedue. The moment you finish outweighing the pros and cons of trying to go down that rabbit hole, the air around you changes, barely noticeable save for a change of wind—it completely stills for a second, but that is enough to realise what’s happening.

“Felix—” you manage before the Nosferatu explodes in front of you, knocking you to the ground. Before the mock battle, all magicians were instructed to weaken their spells; no lasting damage should befall any of the participants. Only because of that you manage to climb back on your feet, only left with dizziness that makes the world spin. The jarring sound of metal clashing against metal clears your mind a little, and when you turn around, Felix and Ferdinand are clashing blades.

You turn further, and there he is, a hand raised in your direction. “Sorry, Herald,” Linhardt says. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “The professor threatened with extra homework if we would hold back against you.”

“Of course she did,” you mumble, grabbing your sword with sweaty hands. Two against two is fair, and you have no doubt that Felix will hold his ground against Ferdinand. The only solution to your little problem named Linhardt is to get as close as possible, and make use of your advantage in meagre sword skills.

Another Nosferatu is sent your way, but this time you dodge, the hair on your neck standing on end. Somehow your body automatically shies away from Faith magic like a cat fleeing from water. Just one more hit will surely be enough to throw you out of the mock battle, and you can’t have that, not when the picture of Dimitri’s resolute expression is carved into your mind.

You close the distance, all nerves tensed in anticipation, completely focused on trying to feel where the next spell is going to land. As Linhardt retreats into the woods, his sight obscured by trees, you dive after him, shoving twigs out of your way. A shadow moves through the undergrowth; every muscle in your body locks up, but you plunge forward, sword raised—

Linhardt gasps when he finds himself pressed against a tree, your sword at his throat. With both hands up, he doesn’t move an inch, simply blinking at you. Somewhere above you, a bird cries out; a branch breaks. Linhardt makes a face like he jammed his foot in a door he slammed shut himself.

“I surrender,” he says. “Getting beat up and spending time in the infirmary doesn’t sound as good as reading tomes in the library.”

“You sure?” Your heart beats so loud in your chest, it’s a miracle it doesn’t break through your ribcage and fly off. “Byleth might drown you in homework for that.”

He shrugs. “I call it a strategic retreat. I’ll just have to—” A yawn. “—convince the professor.” Another yawn. You begin to see the ulterior motive behind his surrender. Squinting at him, you proceed to bind his hands with a dark spell. Black shackles appear around his wrists, locking them tight together. As you make your way out of the grove, you hope Felix had the same success.

That thought immediately dies when you return to the plain and see Jeralt heaving an unconscious Felix on the back of his horse, a battered Ferdinand by his side.

“Ah, Herald.” Even though beaten up black and blue, Ferdinand still manages a smile. It looks a little lopsided with his swollen cheek and the dried blood on his upper lip. “I don’t mean to offend, but I hope you return because Linhardt defeated you in mighty combat?” A second too late he sees the magic binds around Linhardt’s wrists. His face falls. “My, Linhardt.”

“You don’t quite look so good yourself,” Linhardt throws back without any heat in his voice. He sounds rather bored. Tired.

“Excuse me, but what happened. What’s wrong with Felix?” you ask, turning to Jeralt. Before he can answer, Ferdinand chimes in, “He fought splendidly! Though I had no doubt in that, he is a noble after all. Yet, after ringing me to the ground, he lost consciousness. By my honour as the heir of House Aegir, I cannot take advantage of that. We both shall step out of battle.”

“He passed out?” Now that you take a good look at him, he’s still pale, unhealthily so. Slick sweat glues his dark hair to his forehead, and the skin beneath his eyes shimmers slightly blue—lack of sleep.

“Overexertion, I guess,” Jeralt says now. He pulls Linhardt to his side, and gives his shackles a thoughtful look. “I’ll take these three with me. You go and continue the mock battle, Herald.”

“But…” It doesn’t feel right to leave Felix alone. Even though he technically isn’t, you imagine it would be better to wake up to a friendly face.

“He’ll be fine.” Jeralt gives you a strange sideway glance. “The other brats rely on you right now, don’t they? Go to them.”

He’s right, of course. The mission isn’t over yet, and with a strong combatant like Felix missing, victory has just slipped from your grasp.

There is the meeting point. There it is, and no student from the Lion House is in sight. The minutes pass in long stretches, ticking away until it’s impossible to tell if time moves on or holds still. Holding out between the trees, you look in both directions—for your comrades and the enemy. For whatever reason, Byleth has decided not to advance to your position, and you aren’t sure what that’s supposed to mean. More minutes pass in aggravating silence, heavy and oppressing, and then—

“Herald!” Dimitri’s voice rings through the woods. Your head snaps to him, and there they are, the Blue Lions tearing through the woods, a yellow flag with a deer on it waving behind them.

“You did it!” Joy and relief spreads through you as you stumble towards them. “You guys really did it!” They shuffle around you like kittens searching for warmth, and something tight uncoils inside your chest. Is this what Byleth always feels when she’s in front of her class?

“Hilda and Claude were mighty opponents, but nothing we couldn’t handle,” Dimitri reassures, but then a shadow jumps over his features. “Unfortunately, Mercedes had to leave. We couldn’t reach her in time to step in.”

“Step in,” Sylvain repeats, muttered under his breath as he brushes red locks from his sweaty forehead. “I want to see you stepping in when Hilda swings that axe like a lunatic and not scream like a little girl.”

“Where is Felix?” Dedue inquirers, ignoring Sylvain.

Your shoulders drop. “Well, Linhardt was accompanied by Ferdinand, and while I pursued Linhardt, they fought. None of them emerged unscathed, although I feel Felix drew the shorter straw.”

“Felix?” Dimitri repeats. He sounds as if you just tried to convince him it’s going to rain butterscotch pie later. “Our Felix lost?”

“Not exactly the fight, but I’m sure his pride took a hard beating.”

“Well, that leaves four against four.” Dimitri brings a hand up to his chin, a worry crease between his eyebrows. “And they still have Edelgard and the Professor.”

“And we got the Herald and you!” Sylvain beams. “I say we wrap this up and celebrate our victory with a nice dinner and maybe some ale? How does that sound?”

“Sacrilegious.” Your voice is drier than the crisp leaves cracking under your feet. “Aren’t you too young for alcohol?”

“Too young and irresponsible,” Dimitri agrees with you, looking tired of Sylvain’s antics. “But I don’t object to a celebratory dinner.”

“That is, if we win.” Dedue reads your mind, and brings the conversation back on the right course.

“I assume the Black Eagles are holding position. They’re waiting for us,” you say, briefly checking everyone’s state. Safe for dirt and scratches, they’re still doing good, though having fought already, the Blue Lions are on a slight disadvantage. You can only hope some of Byleth’s students dropped out facing the Golden Deers.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting then.” Sylvain winks, playing with the grip of his lance. The smile that flirts with his lips is threatening.

“Keep your guard up.” Dimitri shares a single, meaningful glance with every one of you, then leads your little group out of the forest. Whatever Byleth has planned, you hope that you’ll be ready for it.

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yellowcanna · 3 years

Text

The ZhongXiao Alliance

Summary:

“You requested the bard to get you porn?” Diluc questioned with a skeptical look on his face.

“No!” Aether shouted, waving his hands frantically in front of him. “It’s for…for Paimon!”

“WHAT?!” Paimon screamed off the top of her lungs before spinning around to see the pair of crimson eyes narrowing at her while the blue one twinkled with amusement.

"So he says." Kaeya gestured to the Honourary Knight.

“No! Paimon would never read these kinds of things! It’s adeptus Xiao!!”

“An adeptus from Liyue want you two to get porn?” The disbelief in the tavern owner’s voice was clear.

“This is all for Morax’s sake!” Venti pipped up from behind Aether, as if that would make the situation any better.

“Oh? Morax?” The Cavalry Captain raised a brow. "So it is the Geo Archon that wanted the porn?”

Aether buried his face into his hands. He should have never taken up on Xiao's request. No, before that, he shouldn't have taken Zhongli's request.

This whole mess started when Zhongli confessed to Xiao in the wrong order, starting with sex.

Now, it's up to one traveller, one emergency food, and one bard to make things right...by getting Xiao a guide to sexual intercourse.

Rating: 18+

Genre: Mutual pining, comedy, miscommunication, romantic fluff, smut, yaoi

Pairing: Main Zhongli/Xiao, side Aether/Venti, hint of Kaeya/Diluc and Xingqiu/Chongyun

Story type: Multi-chapter

Beta’d by: Amberowl123

中文 Chinese Translation available by: Yejet

╔ ✦✧✦ ═════════════╗

Available on AO3!!

╚═════════════ ✦✧✦ ╝

◅ PREV MAIN NEXT ▻

CHAPTER 2 - ZhongXiao Alliance, Book!

“Eleven…twelve…thirteen…” Aether counted, carefully plucking the Cecilias and adding them to the basket in his hand.

“Aether! I got five more!” Paimon waved, flying back with an armful of Cecilias.

“Thanks, Paimon!” Aether smiled, plucking two more Cecilias while Paimon added her flowers into the basket. “Perfect, that’s all the flowers!”

“Great! Let’s go back to Mondstadt! Maybe the tone-deaf bard got the thing already!”

“You’re pretty optimistic about that.” The blond raised a brow at her.

“Well…as long as it’s not us who need to find it! That tone-deaf bard seems oddly familiar with these things, don’t you think?”

Aether couldn’t argue Paimon there. Venti was strangely at ease—confident even—when he told them he’d get them the porn. Though Venti was over two thousand years old, and so was Xiao. Perhaps it was due to their long lifespan that they no longer feel embarrassed over things like that?

When the blond thought of it that way, he found himself to be quite immature. If he thought over a bit more, the book was—as Xiao had said—study materials, right? Maybe he and Paimon were the ones over exaggerating and over complicating things.

With that mindset, Aether and Paimon left Starsnatch Cliff. The journey back to Mondstadt took about two hours. By the time they arrived, the sun had already set and the city was quiet compared to the lively nights at Liyue Harbour.

The two headed straight for Angel’s Share where there were already customers seated around on the tables outside, gulping down their drinks. The blond and Paimon greeted some familiar faces before grabbing the door handle and stepping inside the tavern Venti had told them to meet him at.

The first thing the two were greeted with was the sight of Diluc’s irritated face, Kaeya’s amused look, and Venti who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Aha! You see? I’m not lying!” Venti announced, pointing towards Aether who was frozen at the doorway. The blond wondered if it was too late to close the door and pretended that he was never here.

“What’s going on?” Paimon asked, looking between the two men and the archon.

“You’ve joined us at the right time,” Kaeya waved his hand lightly for them to come over.

Having no choice, Aether walked over to them despite his instincts screaming at him to leave. “What happened?” He asked and he swore he saw Diluc’s brows twitched.

What in the world did Venti do this time?

Venti, receiving Aether’s questioning look, shrugged. “Well, Master Diluc, Sir Kaeya and I were just talking about… aesthetics.”

“We were discussing your questionable performance,” Diluc corrected. Even though his voice was even, Aether could tell the man was this close to tossing the bard outside.

“What part of my performance was questionable?” Venti argued back, clearly seeing no wrong in whatever he did. Worried a fight might break out, Aether hurried to step between them.

“The part where you requested the customers to pay you with porn.”

The blond tripped over his feet, his face smashing against the hard wooden floor and his body drawing a line between Venti and Diluc.

“Aether! Are you alright?” Paimon flew over to Aether who had a hand over his reddened nose.

“Hey, I was doing our Honorary Knight a favour! You wouldn’t want to deprive Mondstadt’s saviour his needs, would you?”

Both Diluc and Kaeya looked down at Aether—crimson and blue eyes staring at him skeptically.

“You requested the bard get you porn?” Diluc questioned with an unreadable look on his face.

“No!” Aether shouted, bouncing back onto his feet at the accusation while waving his hands frantically in front of him. “Well, I mean, yes, I did ask, but it’s not for me!”

“Then who is it?” Kaeya inquired with one hand resting on his hip.

The blond’s brain was a mess as he tried to think of what to say. There was no way he could tell them that it was Xiao who wanted the book! He was an adeptus, after all. He also couldn’t say it was for a friend since that would sound like a poor excuse! “It’s for…for Paimon!”

“WHAT?!!” Paimon shouted off the top of her lungs before spinning around to see Diluc raising a brow at her while Kaeya let out a small hum.

“I must say, I would never have expected that from you,” the knight commented with an odd smile on his lips.

“No! It’s not for Paimon!” Paimon shrieked. “Paimon would never read these kinds of things! It’s for Adeptus Xiao!!”

Aether covered his hands over his face, unable to watch the mess unfold.

“An adeptus from Liyue wanted you two to get porn?” The disbelief in Diluc’s voice was clear.

“This is all for Morax’s sake!” Venti piped up from behind Aether, as though that would make the situation any better.

“Morax?” Diluc frowned. “Didn’t the Geo Archon die?”

“Uh…!” Both Aether and Paimon paled.

“Are you suggesting that not only is the Geo Archon not dead, he asked you to get porn?” Kaeya pushed on.

“I…!” Aether looked between the two men, feeling completely trapped with no way out.

“This isn’t the place to talk,” Diluc gestured for them to follow and brought them to the basement where they stored the wine. He shot more than a couple of nasty glares when Venti’s hands wandered too close to some of the wine.

Once they were inside one of the storage rooms, Diluc slammed the door shut and turned to Aether with his arms crossed over his chest. “Explain.”

Having, no choice, Aether began to explain the mess they were dragged into—including the fact that the Geo Archon was very much alive. The blond knew he could trust both Kaeya and Diluc to keep it a secret…perhaps that was also why Venti casually revealed the Geo Archon being alive.

“So Rex Lapis is alive and he has fallen in love with one of the immortals of Liyue,” Kaeya muttered after hearing the full story. “Most interesting indeed.”

“And that adeptus requested you bring…research materials.” Diluc pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a quiet sigh. While he fully understood the situation, he didn’t look any happier than when Aether first saw him.

“Now that we've gotten this misunderstanding out of the way, can I get my books back?” Venti asked with his hands on his hips.

“So…what exactly happened?” Paimon asked again.

“As usual, the audiences loved performances and kindly gifted me their valuable collections, but they were all confiscated by Master Diluc here.”

“You should be glad I didn’t kick you out of the tavern.” Diluc retorted.

“Wait, so you really did get a book?!” Paimon turned to Venti in shock.

“Of course! I did promise I’ll help you guys find one, didn’t I?” Venti bragged and looked back to Diluc.

“What about Kaeya?” Aether turned to the Cavalry Captain. “Why were you here?”

“As one of the Knights of Favonius, it is my duty to oversee regulations. I can’t turn a blind eye to shady dealings now, can I?” Kaeya shrugged.

“How was any of that shady?!” Venti gasped in genuine shock.

“Even if you are lord Barbatos, there are still laws you have to follow.”

“Surely a book or two isn’t that big of a deal!”

“You are correct. A book or two is not a big deal, but…” Kaeya trailed off, his eye shifting to Diluc. Diluc spared a small glimpse at Kaeya before sharply turning away. He looked a little irritated, but stepped out of the storage room and returned a minute later carrying a large bundle wrapped in a tablecloth.

The moment the redhead set the bundle onto the floor, the cloth unwrapped, revealing stacks after stacks of books.

“Don’t tell me—!!” Aether’s jaw fell open at the mountain of porn.

“Did you rob the entire city?!” Paimon shouted.

“Of course not! These were all gifted to me by my faithful fans!”

“So now you see.” Kaeya bent down, picking up a blank cover book and waved it at Aether. “When a large quantity of these suddenly turned up at a tavern, that is something a knight cannot ignore.”

“We’re very sorry!” Aether apologized immediately. He was never so glad that it was Kaeya who caught Venti and not Jean, Lisa or Amber. Aether would never be able to face them again if they were to find out.

“Morax’s happiness is on the line here! Can’t you cut us some slack?” Venti tried to bargain.

“You say that you only need one book, didn’t you?” Diluc finally spoke up. “Take one and return the rest to wherever they came from. That should be fine, shouldn’t it, Knight of Favonius?”

“Certainly,” Kaeya easily agreed.

“Thank you so much, Diluc! Kaeya!” Aether and Paimon cheered while Venti looked disappointed.

“Aww, I have to give all of these back?” He looked at them with teary eyes.

“Were you planning on doing anything with them?” Diluc’s sharp gaze was immediately locked onto the Anemo god.

“Of course not!” Venti laughed before glancing down at the pile of books, then to Aether. “So…which one shall we take?”

“Wouldn’t any one of them work?” Aether asked in confusion.

“Hmm, take this for example!” Venti held out two books. “One is about a woman and a man, while the other is about two men. Which one does Xiao need?”

“O-of course it’s…!!” Aether stammered, taking a look at Diluc and Kaeya before quickly hissing out the last part. “That second one!”

“Then does he want a book with words, or pictures?”

“Huh?”

“Are there any specific positions they want to do it in?”

“T-that’s—!!”

“And what kind of kinks do they—”

“Just something educational!” Aether frantically shouted to stop Venti from talking. He felt like he was going to die from embarrassment at this rate.

When he turned to look at the other two men, he saw Diluc with one hand covering his face while Kaeya was smiling weirdly at him.

Someone let him die.

“Guess we have no choice but to look through them all!”

“How did you reach that conclusion?!” Aether’s shout was so high that his voice ended up cracking.

At this point, Diluc had finally had enough and headed for the door.

“Oh? Are you not going to help our Honorary Knight with his troubles?” Kaeya watched the Pyro user open the door.

“Unlike someone who has too much time on their hands, I have a business to run,” the redhead stated before disappearing into the hallway. The knight chuckled and followed after Diluc. On his way out, the knight grabbed Paimon by her scarf, plucking her off the air and bringing her with him.

“Hey!!” Paimon shouted, kicking and throwing her arms around, but her limbs were too short to reach the man.

“It would be best if you wait for them upstairs. Seems like they will take a while,” Kaeya said, giving the blond a wink and closed the door behind him.

Aether was blushing hard, but Venti was already ushering for him to sit down so they could start looking through the books together.

“Hey Aether, look at this one!” Venti cheerfully opened one of the illustrated Inazuma scrolls right in his face, giving the boy a clear picture of the indecent act being performed…with an octopus.

Aether had to use all of his will power not to scream.

Why was there an octopus?!

“It got an octopus in it!”

“I can see that?! You don’t need to show it to me!!” Aether cried, swatting the scroll away from his face.

“You have such a pure-hearted~” Venti giggled, rolling up the scroll and setting it aside. “Alright, I won’t tease you anymore. Let’s start looking for something you can give to Xiao.”

Aether nodded, still red in the face as he picked up the book closest to him. Since all of these covers were blank, it was hard to tell the contents without looking inside. The moment Aether opened the book, he immediately regretted it as it was a picture book.

Golden eyes rounded upon the sight of a man lying on the bed, his head thrown back with his mouth opened and eyes closed. The look on his face could only be described as ecstasy with spurts of white splattered over his body. With his legs pulled apart, Aether was given a clear view of another man’s appendage, going into the...

The blond frantically snapped the book shut, but the image was already engraved into his brain…

“There’s surprisingly a lot of novels here. Well, then again it might be not so surprising. Some nations have strict rules on the picture ones. This would be good since words can go into details of how it’s done!” Venti mumbled while scavenging through the books and oblivious to Aether’s inner terror.

“We should pick out the ones with males only and put them into a pile!”

“Uwah, this one is a bit extreme, but hey, surely that brute would be into it!”

“Hilichurl? Huh, people sure are imaginative these days.”

“Woah, a Regisvines? Wouldn’t you freeze to death? Wait…did Regisvines have tentacles like these? Oh, they’re roots…?”

“Hmm, as I thought, there’s not too many with only males—oh! Hey Aether! Look at this! This one’s from Fontaine!”

“Aha, here’s another one! Come now Aether, help me out here!”

“Aether? Are you listening?”

“Aether?”

“Aether!”

…They found a book thirteen hours later.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Are you sure you guys were finding a book and not gone off to fight monsters?” Paimon asked, hovering over Aether who was lying in the carriage with a folded cloth shielding his eyes from the morning light.

“Ehe, don’t mind him!” Venti smiled. “He’ll be fine after getting some sleep.”

“You two sure took your time! Paimon fell asleep waiting for you!”

“There were too many things to sort through. Besides,” the archon gestured to the carriage they were in. “If we didn’t take an entire night, how would we be able to hitch a ride on the Dawn Winery shipping cart that is heading to Liyue?”

“Why are you so proud when it’s Master Diluc who gave us the ride?” Paimon huffed before looking down at the book the two had taken an entire night to choose. Judging by the hardcover and the form of the book, it originated from Mondstadt. Since there wasn’t anything on the front or the back of the book, Paimon couldn’t tell what kind of content was inside.

“Soooo…” She looked up at Venti with a sly grin. “What book did you guys choose in the end?”

“Hmm, I would advise against reading it. It’s not something for the faint of heart~” Venti winked and began playing music on his lyre. Paimon puffed, but she floated down, sitting in the corner of the carriage and listened to the archon’s music.

The journey back to Liyue was peaceful. Even when there were nearby monster attacks, Diluc’s men were able to fend them off so there was no need for Venti or Aether to intervene. Because the Dawn Winery carriage was heading towards Qingce village, the three had to get off around Stone Gate and walk the rest of the way to Guili Plains.

This time, there was no need for Aether to call for Xiao. The moment they arrived at their destination, Xiao appeared in a flicker of green light.

“Lord Barbatos,” he greeted politely, nodding his head towards the Anemo Archon.

Aether and Paimon stared at Xiao, then to Venti who puffed out his chest with pride. Sometimes, they both forget that Barbatos was a huge deal due to the archon’s behaviour and the little respect the bard named Venti gets in Mondstadt…

“It’s been a long time, Xiao! Almost a millennia, I believe?” Venti greeted.

“Yes,” Xiao responded curtly. “What brought you to Liyue?”

“I ran into our dear traveller here back in Mondstadt and heard about Morax’s proposal to you, so I decided to come along!”

“I see.” The adeptus glanced to Aether. “I trust you’ve brought the items?”

“Yes, here they are.” Aether handed over the basket of Cecilias and the book.

“What are you planning on doing with those Cecilias?” Venti asked curiously.

“They are for the Cleansing pills.”

“Cleansing pills? What’s that?” Paimon inquired.

“Adepti do not indulge themselves in mortal desires,” Venti explained for the pair. “Stuff like alcohol, gambling, food, baths…things human usually need or do for pleasure! While older adepti don’t need to eat because their power is strong enough to sustain themselves, the same can’t be said for the younger ones. To prevent them from having worldly desires or cravings for things they shouldn’t, they created all kinds of special pills for convenience—like pills for hunger, pills for meditations and so on. The Cleansing pills are for when they want to wash their body. Toss one into the bathtub, dip in a viola! You’ll be clean and refreshed in no time! Pretty handy when you’re suffering from a hangover!”

“Wait, you mean they don’t need to eat at all? But Adeptus Xiao ate!” Paimon pointed at Xiao who crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to his right foot.

“Eating is but a choice for us,” he said before narrowing his eyes at the wind god disapprovingly. “The Cleansing pill purifies the body and soul. It is not to be used to consume more alcohol.”

“You say the same thing as Morax,” Venti groaned. “But if I remember correctly, isn’t the Cleansing pill made with the herbs in Liyue? Why do you need Cecilias?”

“Many herbs have been lost in the flow of time and the changes within the formation of land,” Xiao replied rather patiently, to both Aether and Paimon’s surprise. “Madame Ping has informed me that the properties of Cecilia are similar to the herb I am missing.”

“Ah, Madame Ping! I haven’t seen her since I’ve last visited Liyue Harbour!” Venti nodded.

“If you’ll excuse me, I will take my leave.”

“Hey now! It’s been so long since we last spoke! Don’t be so eager to leave!” Venti hurriedly blocked Xiao’s path. “Even if you read that book, would you even know what you need to do?”

That made Xiao stop. For the first time, his emotionless mask cracked, revealing a lost look on his face as he stared at the book inside the basket of flowers.

“On the other hand, Aether and I had learned quite a lot! I’m sure we can help you with your studies!”

Aether’s head immediately snapped to Venti in disbelief. He opened his mouth to object, but Xiao beat him to it.

“I will humbly take you on your offer, lord Barbatos.”

“Wait, Adeptus Xiao, let’s not—”

“Perfect! In exchange, give us some of your Cleansing pills! Surely you’ll have extras once you are done!”

“I will only require a few. You may have the rest once I’ve refined them,” Xiao swiftly agreed.

“Wait—!”

With that, Aether was dragged away to Wangshu Inn by Venti with Xiao walking at the front and Paimon trailing behind. When the boss of Wangshu Inn saw the green-haired adeptus, she quickly organized the most luxurious room for them.

That was how Aether found himself locked within the room with one adeptus, one archon and one book between them. Paimon had slipped away at some point, no doubt stuffing her belly with food right now.

Aether was sitting there nervously, watching Xiao open the book to reveal the fine texts printed over the white pages. In the end, Aether and Venti picked out an erotic novel instead of illustrated ones. The blond had feared that the picture books would be too…too graphic for the adeptus to handle. At the very least, he couldn’t handle it, so they chose a novel instead with milder tastes.

“Start over here,” Venti told Xiao, flipping to the middle of the book where there was a red bookmark.

Xiao didn’t ask any questions and read from there. With the way those bright yellow eyes narrowed seriously and that pale hand covering his chin and mouth, Aether would think he was trying to decipher some sort of code rather than reading a sex scene.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Xiao said after only looking through the first page. “Why must you prepare the other person?”

“It’s called stretching! It’s so the person who tops could enter the person who bottoms easier!” Venti replied lightly.

“It’s muscles,” the adeptus deadpanned. “It should be the same if you relax.”

“Well, I suppose that makes sense, but it would be bad if anything tears, right?”

“Such insignificant wounds are hardly anything to mention.”

“But wouldn’t Morax mind even if there is a tiny bit of injury? He might feel responsible, you know?”

Xiao’s brow twitched, but he didn’t say anything about that anymore and moved to the next topic he couldn’t understand.

“What of this oil? What is the purpose of this?”

“It’s so your lord could go in easier and let him feel good, of course!”

Xiao nodded and went on to the next one.

Aether buried his face into his hands. After that first question, Venti has mastered the art of explaining things to Xiao—by telling him that everything was for Zhongli’s sake and how it could benefit Zhongli.

“Positions are an important part of sex!! You should let Morax see your face when you guys do it!”

“Why is that?”

“Well, surely he would want to know whether or not you are feeling good?”

“My pleasure matters not.”

“But it will to Morax! His pride will be hurt if you don’t feel good! That’s the same as saying he's bad lay!”

“A bad what?”

“It means you think he’s impotent~”

“…!!”

Aether’s golden eyes shifted to Xiao who looked as though he had swallowed a whole Electro slime, then to Venti who was smiling way too brightly than he should in such a situation. It was obvious that the archon was enjoying this way too much and Xiao was too clueless to see it.

The blond weighed the pros and cons of intervening before deciding to keep his mouth shut. While Aether never had any sexual experiences, reading porn and erotic novels for thirteen hours straight gave him some…insight to things. Even if Venti was seemingly playing around with Xiao, the Anemo Archon was in fact giving Xiao the best advice that could bring him and Zhongli closer together.

“There are also techniques you must master! You also need to know what Morax’s kinks are.”

“…Kinks?” Xiao frowned, clearly not understanding the definition of the word.

Aether’s mouth fell open, gawking at Venti like he had grown a second head.

And so, Venti began a list of every kink that was possible to mankind. Some of which Aether saw in the stacks of porn, but most he never even heard of and was certain the god was making this up as he went!

By the end of Venti’s long rambling, Aether’s jaw was pretty much touching the floor and Xiao…

Xiao was shaking with long bangs falling over his face. With his head dipped low, the blond couldn’t see what expression he has right now.

“I have no idea…that this requires so much skill…!!” Xiao whispered before promptly getting up. “I must request my lord to reconsider. As I am now, I can’t possibly be his partner.”

“Wait! Wait, Adeptus Xiao!” Aether jumped up—or at least, he tried. Distracted by Venti’s rambling, he didn’t even realize how numb his legs were and he ended up smacking into the floor with his hands grabbing onto Xiao’s ankle.

It was a good thing Xiao had stopped when he called out, otherwise Aether can’t imagine what would become of him if he made the adeptus fall flat on his face.

“You haven’t finished the book yet! Why don’t you look through the book first?”

Xiao considered the traveller’s words for a moment before he sat back down and picked up the book once more. Aether secretly let out a small breath of relief before shooting the god an accusing look. Venti responded with a guilty smile while scratching the back of his head, knowing he went overboard. Although the bard didn’t think he was wrong. Who knew what sort of weird kinks that old grandpa would develop after over two thousand years of yearning?

Now that he wasn’t asking questions every other sentence he encountered, Xiao’s reading speed increased a lot. In no time at all, he finished the sex scene and the milder contents inside calmed him greatly.

“I’m sure all those—erm, kinks that Venti mentioned don’t apply to Zhongli.” Aether made sure to shoot another look at Venti. “At least, I don’t think he would want to be tied up and lick your feet or make you lick his feet.”

“I have no issue if my lord asks me to lick his feet,” the Yaksha responded with absolute seriousness. “It’s…I cannot imagine making…making him…” The thought was so terrifying to Xiao that he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“No, they are equally bad!” Aether wanted to crack open the adeptus’ skull to see what was inside that head of his!! In fact, he also wanted to crack open Venti’s! What in the world was the archon thinking trying to stuff these ideas to Xiao knowing he’ll take them seriously?!

“Calm down, Aether. You’re gonna burst a vein,” Venti laughed and Aether briefly entertained himself with the idea of throwing Wei—the stray cat at the front counter—at the cat-allergic god.

He can’t rely on Venti anymore, so he needed to do this by himself.

“Adeptus Xiao, has Zhongli ever given you anything?”

“The medicine you delivered to me was from him, was it not?” Xiao asked back.

“Well, yeah, but has he given anything that was…infused with his power?”

“…He has.”

“What was it?!” Aether’s reaction was a bit over the top, but he couldn’t help it. With so many things going on, he felt like he was going to die from a headache if he didn’t get one thing sorted out.

Instead of replying, Xiao held out his hand and his weapon materialized within his palm.

This was the first time Aether has seen Xiao's weapon, yet the moment he laid eyes upon it, he found himself thinking how there was no weapon in this world better suited for Xiao than this. The spear in Xiao's hand was by far the most beautiful spear Aether has ever seen. The weapon had an elegant emerald body with the bright green spearhead crafted from the finest jade. There were fix smaller jades—three on each side—spreading out like wings. Even without touching it, the blond could feel power radiating from the weapon much like its wielder.

“Ah, the Primordial Jade Winged-Spear!” Venti immediately recognized the weapon. He then turned to the clueless blond and explained, “it’s a weapon Morax made for Xiao. During the archon war, there was not a single god who did not know of Xiao and the spear he wielded. This close up, I can certainly feel Morax’s energy flowing within.”

“Aside from this, was there anything else Zhongli had given you?” Aether asked. A very bad feeling was creeping up on him, but he didn’t want to believe it…

“No,” the adeptus replied with absolute certainty, crushing what little hope Aether had left.

The last bit of energy left the blond, but he slammed his palms into the floor, stubbornly hanging onto his sanity.

One mystery was now solved.

The gift Zhongli mentioned…it was definitely this Primordial Jade Winged-Spear.

The courting gift Zhongli had given Xiao was a weapon…and of all times he gave it to him, it had to be during a war?!

How could anyone not misunderstand?!

“T-then did Zhongli say anything when he gave that to you?” Aether asked in his last attempt of struggle.

“He said he hoped I would accept,” Xiao’s gaze was distant as he remembered the past. “That was the day, I devoted myself to serving him.”

THUD

“…What are you doing?” Xiao frowned at the human lying on the floor.

“Eh…his legs must be numbed. Humans tend to have this issue when they sit too long, don’t mind him!” Venti waved and picked up the erotic novel. “Let’s continue!”

Xiao nodded and the two went back to discussing the book, ignoring the worldly-outlander slowly withering away on the floor.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Hold on…you’re saying that the gift Zhongli gave Adeptus Xiao was his weapon and when he said he hoped Adeptus Xiao would accept…Adeptus Xiao misunderstood it as Zhongli asking if he would serve under him?!”

Aether hid his face behind his hands. Hearing Paimon repeated everything in his head out loud made the situation even more ridiculous.

After getting down the basics of how intercourse works, Xiao needed to work on making the Cleansing pills and left the inn, telling them to come back after three days to give them their portion of the pills.

So now they were back at Liyue Harbour, strolling around the streets since the last time Venti visited Liyue was centuries ago. The archon was running around the street, taking in the sights of the city while Aether explained the situation to Paimon.

“As I thought, this is all Morax’s fault,” Venti sighed all too happily, coming back with a steam bun in hand. “I figured that blundering buffoon couldn’t do a proper confession, but to think it would be to this extent.”

“Where did you get that steam bun?” Paimon asked, knowing full well the archon had no Mora on him.

“The old lady at the stall was nice enough to give me one after listening to one of my stories!” Venti took a bite into the hot bun and let out a satisfied hum. “Hmm! It’s been so long since I’ve tasted Liyue’s delicacies.”

Seeing the joy on the god’s face, Aether couldn’t help but smile and said, “let’s go to Wanmin Restaurant. We can talk while we eat there.”

“Now you’re talking Paimon’s language!” Paimon cheered. “Maybe Xiangling would be there!”

“Oho, I have heard of the name Xiangling. She is quite famous!” Venti nodded, taking another bite of his bun. “Ah, by the way…does this restaurant have any alcohol?”

“I’m sure they do, but…” Aether wanted to point out how none of them looked to be of legal drinking age, but Venti waved him off.

“Come on, you need to learn to live a little or you’ll end up becoming one of those block of rocks that can’t—”

“Oh? That can’t what?” A deep voice came from behind them, causing Venti to turn into the very stone he was mocking.

“Zhongli!” Aether turned to see Zhongli standing behind them with his arms crossed over his chest and those Cor Lapis coloured eyes glaring down at a certain archon.

“Aah, if it isn’t my dear old friend!!” Venti’s tune immediately changed as he spun on his heels and greeted his old friend. “I heard you’re going by the name of Zhongli now, yes? How is the life of retirement fairing for you?”

“How about we talk somewhere less conspicuous?” Zhongli suggested, though he wasn’t talking to Venti, but at Aether and Paimon.

They ended up booking a private room at the Liuli Pavilion with Venti and Zhongli listing out their orders to the waitress. Aether could already hear the sound of Mora leaving his wallet because there was no way these two broke gods would be able to afford any of it.

Once their meals were brought up, the waitresses closed the door on their way out, giving them full privacy. Finally, Aether found the opportunity to speak. He decided to start by telling Zhongli about Xiao asking for him to wait a week—or if he was to count the days that were already lost, to wait for five more days.

“I see,” Zhongli said with a small smile on his lips. “You have my thanks.”

“No, we uh, still haven’t figured out what he likes yet,” Aether said guiltily. To be honest, he had completely forgotten about that part with the porn and everything else going on.

“Wouldn’t anything be fine? That child is blindly devoted to you,” Venti chipped in from the sideline, but was ignored by Zhongli completely.

“It’s alright if you cannot find out. I know that it is difficult to get him to talk about himself.” Zhongli said with a soft sigh. “I have tried in the past, but he never gives me his opinion and only agrees with everything I say…”

“So that’s why you wanted us to ask!” Paimon gasped, finally understanding.

“What did I say? Blind devotion,” Venti lamented.

It was then that Zhongli finally spared some of his time to the other god. “Barbatos, why are you here?”

“Can’t I visit an old friend?” The Anemo Archon blinked those large, forest green eyes innocently.

“Venti was helping us gather some materials for Adeptus Xiao.” Aether quickly explained, not wanting Zhongli to think Venti was here to meddle.

“Materials?”

“Your little Xiao is refining some Cleansing pills so he asked our dear friend here to get some from Mondstadt.”

“Then he must have needed the Cecilias,” Zhongli nodded in understanding. “I should have told him I have already prepared the Cleansing pills. That is an oversight on my part.”

“He just started. We can tell him that you already have it prepared?” Aether offered.

“No, that’s alright.” Zhongli shook his head lightly. “I am happy that Xiao is taking the initiative. Traditionally, it is the one that proposed the courting be responsible for the preparations.”

That’s because he had no idea he was being courted—Aether wanted to say, but held himself back.

“What kind of preparations?” Paimon questioned with a tilt of her head.

“You know how male birds attract female birds by being pretty and all?” Venti cut in when Zhongli parted his lips to respond. “They must also build a nest and prepare the food. If the female likes the home they made, they stay with the male!”

“Barbatos,” Zhongli’s tone dropped and he glared at the other god. “Do not compare the courtship of adepti to that of animals.”

“Aren’t you all closer to animals than humans anyway? And besides, Xiao’s technically a bird.”

“Comparing Xiao to a bird is a grave insult. You say this knowing I am in the middle of courtship with him. Are you testing my patience?”

“I would never! I simply thought our friends here would understand better if I explain it that way!” Venti countered.

“Do not believe in this bard’s nonsense,” Zhongli said to Aether and Paimon. “The act of intimacy is important within our courting traditions. It is the first exchange of our adeptial powers, one cannot take it lightly. Therefore, it must be located in a place where we cannot be disturbed.”

“So…like a vacation home?” Paimon summarized.

“Yes, you can say that.”

“A vacation home…” Aether perked up when an idea popped into his head. “Zhongli, do you already have a place prepared?”

“Yes, I am thinking of Jueyun Karst. It is the only place with few mortals thus we would not be disturbed. I have already informed the adepti living there of this matter.” Zhongli paused when he saw the disappointment on Aether’s face. “Do you perhaps have an idea?”

“Oh no, if you already prepared it then it’s alright!”

“Plans can always change. I want to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like Adeptus Xiao have a home like the other adepti. Even when we sit down to talk, it’s at Wangshu Inn. I thought it would be nice if he could have his own place.” The blond said, scratching his cheeks. When he looked up to Zhongli, the archon was sitting there, staring at him with his eyes wide.

“Yes…that is…” Zhongli mumbled to himself before bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “It has been a long time since…perhaps now…”

“Uh, Zhongli?” Aether called, successfully snapping Zhongli back to reality.

“My apologies,” the man heaved out a deep breath. “It is only natural you do not know of this, but the Wangshu Inn is established for the purpose of supporting Xiao.”

“Eh?! What do you mean?” Paimon flew up from her seat.

“The Wangshu Inn is created by a secret organization within the Qixing. To be precise, it started with an agent, but it grew and expanded into an organization over time.”

“Then the boss of the Wangshu Inn…” Aether trailed off, remembering the woman always sitting behind the front counter. Now that he thought about it, there was always something strange about her…like how casual she was when mentioning Xiao and even took in ghosts that Xiao brought over.

“If you are referring to Verr Goldet, her real allegiance is to that organization within the Qixing.”

“And the Almond Tofu that Adeptus Xiao loves to eat?!” Paimon gasped.

“The Almond Tofu is also created for Xiao,” Zhongli answered.

“Let me guess, that agent that started the whole thing was you, Morax?” Although it was a question, there was a knowing look on Venti’s face as he grinned at his fellow archon.

“I will not deny my involvement, but the Wangshu Inn is the result of the people’s gratitude towards Xiao.”

“And of course, Xiao is oblivious to all that~” The Anemo Archon sighed wistfully.

“He doesn’t know?!” Paimon stared at Zhongli with wide eyes.

“If he finds out the truth behind Wangshu Inn, he will not go there anymore.” The Geo Archon had a troubled look on his face. “He is a stubborn one and does not easily accept help from others. That is why you must keep this a secret.”

“Of course! Paimon will never tell anyone!”

“Your secret’s safe with us.” Aether nodded.

Then, the two turned towards Venti who straightened under their gaze. “Why are you two looking at me like that? You think I would tattle?”

“True…the tone-deaf bard may be annoying at times, but he can keep a secret!”

“Thank you for your compliments,” the god chuckled.

“Since he got a place already, I guess there’s no need for a home, huh?” Aether laughed lightly.

“Not necessarily. You have given me a better idea.” Zhongli looked at the blond gratefully. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“Oh…I’m glad I could help?”

“I have one more favour to ask of you.”

“What is it?” Aether asked rather cautiously. He couldn’t help it, not after what Xiao asked them to do…

“You say that Xiao is refining the Cleansing pills right now?”

“Yeah, he told us to come back in three days and he’ll give some to us!” Paimon beamed. Even if it wasn’t Mora, it was still a reward for their efforts. Besides, if it was something made by an adeptus, surely it would sell for a hefty price!

“Three days…that leaves two,” Zhongli muttered. “That is plenty enough time. I want to ask you to lure Xiao away from Guili Plains for the remainder of those two days. Preferably somewhere up north—around Qingce village. ”

“But…would he leave with us?” Aether frowned. The whole reason Xiao spoke to them in the first place was because they were delivering his medicine and that he needed their help. As for their time at Wangshu Inn…that was because of Venti. If not for the Anemo Archon, Aether doubted that he would be able to convince the Yaksha to go anywhere with him.

Zhongli was conflicted as well. He knew that his request this time was too much to ask of the traveller. Even he couldn’t think of any convincing ways for them to get Xiao to leave the plains he dwelled upon for so long.

“Ahem!” Venti cleared his throat, letting his presence be remembered. “Might I offer a solution to that? Of course, it will come with a small price~”

“I will give you three gallons of the finest Osmanthus wine in Liyue.” Zhongli was quick to take up the bard’s offer. Putting their many disagreements aside, Venti was still an archon and the one who gave Xiao his Vision. The younger god may be childish, a drunkard, slacks off from his duties and overall a disgrace to the arts…but he was an old friend Zhongli could rely on when push comes to shove.

“Deal!” Venti chirped, snatching up a Lotus Flower Crisp and bit off the fluffy pastry petal.

Aether smiled and raised his chopsticks. “Well then, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

“Finally!” Paimon let out an exaggerated sigh, picking up her plate and chopsticks with her eyes sparkling as she gazed upon the food. Zhongli let out a small chuckle and joined in as well.

At that time, Aether had no idea what sort of disaster his innocent suggestion was about to bring to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the adepti and the Treasure Hoarders located in Guili Plains.

Likewise, he was also oblivious to the new hell that awaited him at Qingce village…

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#zhongli #xiao #genshin impact #genshin xiao #aether x venti #xiao x zhongli #genshin fanfic #Genshin Impact fanfiction

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 9 ~The Christmas Spirits~

Previously in Christmas Eve Rush

Her hand flew to her chest, and her eyes almost popped out at the realisation. "Good Lord. You're in love with her, aren't ye? It's all over your face. Oh my God!"

"Please? We dinnae have a lot of time," he whispered, almost close to tears. "Ye're the only one who can get through to Claire."

A few heartbeats passed as he held his breath.

"Fine! Let's do this!" Suddenly spurred by excitement into action, she quickly grabbed a piece of paper and pen and handed it to him. "Write down your number, and I'll update you after I've called Claire."

"Ye will?"

"Yes, yes ..." she muttered. "Come on, chop-chop!" She clapped her hands at him.

Elated with the turn of event, he didn't waste any more time and rapidly scribbled his number and pushed the piece of paper back to her. "Thank ye. I owe ye big time." When an afterthought came to him, he shoved his hand into his pocket, took out a spare key to his cottage and placed it on the table. It was meant to be for Claire. "Another favour, I have a dog and kitten in the house and ..."

"I got it." She grinned and made a shooing motion. "Now go!"

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

Claire sat at the airport's cafe, every sound of someone's laughter and the sight of happy couples holding hands, driving a knife into her chest. She still had a few hours to go before its time to go through security. With a heavy heart, she miserably flipped the pages of a glossy magazine, unseeing its pages' articles and pictures. It had taken every iota of her resolve and will power to leave Broch Mordha, and now Annalise had made her book a later flight because her friend was on the way and wanted to talk. Damn her for making this more difficult! In truth, she wanted to know what Jamie had told her friend and wondered what he would have said if she'd confronted him instead of running away. Now that she was finally out of his life was he even thinking about her? Staying in Broch Mordha would have most probably increased the likelihood of her believing his excuses and running back into his arms. She just couldn't handle the emotional fallout.

"I beg your pardon, is this seat taken?" a soft feminine voice asked.

Claire briefly glanced up, offered a weak smile and motioned for the woman to sit. She wasn't in the state nor mood for small talks so she put her head down and pretended to read, hoping the woman would take a hint.

Restless, she glanced again at her phone to check the time. Annalise should be here soon. Is she planning to fly with me? I hope not! She noticed the cafe was beginning to get busy with people waiting for love ones to arrive or the check-in counter to open. Tomorrow at this time, she'd be home. The thought of spending Christmas in London in the cramped apartment made her doubly miserable. She loved the open spaces of the Highlands and quaint villages. Although the weather could be quite grim, the landscape's natural beauty and loads of fresh air more than made up for it. With its tranquil settings, it was an ideal place to start her writing career. She'd put it on hold for far too long, working for a publishing company that gave her very little satisfaction and yesterday she'd even fantasised of moving to Broch Mordha and making it a reality to be closer to Jamie. How could I have been so stupid?

"Highlands in December is romantic, isn't it?" The woman sharing her table smiled pleasantly. "I love this place. There's something magical about it, don't you agree?"

Ah, another English woman to fall for the Highland charm! She was about to give some generic answer about the Highlands' ancient history lending the romance a hint of mysticism when the harsh truth chose that moment to free itself. "Kind of deceiving though, isn't it? I got caught up in that so-called magic, but some wanker decided to exploit it and use my heart to make fertiliser. I've only known him for a couple of days, but I can't stand being in this place anymore without thinking about him and his stupid, stupid handsome face. And the way he looked at me." She blew a breath and blinked back the tears. "I guess I was just plain naive and a bloody dimwit for thinking smooth talkers only existed in big cities like London. I tell you what, they're rife everywhere and you can never be too careful."

If the woman had been surprised by Claire's outburst, it didn't show. "Now, now, I'm quite sure there is a perfect explanation. Lovely and sweet as you look, I see the wisdom that belies your age in your eyes. You don't seem like a person to be taken by someone's smooth line at all."

She let out an almost deranged laugh. "Well, obviously, I am. I took one look at a beautiful face, and all logic went south. So there," Claire huffed.

The other woman looked away and sipped her tea. She was much older than Claire thought - in her forties maybe or could be fifties, but it was hard to tell. She had a dark, sleek modern bob hairstyle that contradicted the mumsy grey slacks, woollen jumper and lack of makeup and accessories. Her face was kind though, and there was a serenity in her demeanour she found comforting and familiar.

Claire regretted her oversharing and decided to shut her mouth and continued reading.

"I met my husband many years ago here. Not far from where we are now. A place called Broch Mordha."

Claire's head shot up. "Oh! Is your husband Scottish?"

"No, he's English. We met one summer while watching a Highland game. He lived in Broch Mordha while doing some research for work, and I was on holiday. We fell in love and eventually married. And every year from thereon we celebrated our anniversary here. It's a very special place for us."

"That's very sweet," Claire remarked, trying not to think of Jamie and what could have been for them if he hadn't been a knobhead.

The woman let out a soft laugh and daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Sweet isn't the description I would have used to describe the circumstance of how we met; nevertheless, it turned out my darling husband is my soul mate and marrying him had been the best decision I've ever made in my life."

"Good for you ..." Claire whispered, subtly glancing once more at the time on her phone. She hoped Annalise would be here soon because the last thing she needed right now was to hear someone else's happily forever after. But in the end, curiosity got the better of her. "So what made you change your mind about him?"

The woman sighed and took out her book. "My husband was an insensitive clod, and when he eventually saw the error of his ways and asked for forgiveness, I gave him a second chance. Forgiving him didn't change the past, and I realised in the end, if I hadn't forgiven him, my actions would have robbed me of the best years of my life. And of course, a beautiful daughter who turned out to be everything I've ever hoped for and much more." She smiled and then turned her attention to reading. Obviously, oversharing was now over.

"I see ..." Claire muttered. Well, what had she expected? A magical solution? She almost laughed out loud. No such thing!

It was too late for her and Jamie anyway. She was on her way to London, and he'd probably moved on now that she was gone. It was definitely better this way. Out of sight, out of mind.

**********

He switched off the ignition of his car and texted Annalise to inform her he'd arrived at his destination. She'd messaged him earlier letting him know Claire would be at D'Lish cafe. Scanning his vicinity, Jamie drew in a lungful of air. He'd only been in Inverness Airport's parking lot a few minutes, and already his nerves were on tenterhooks. From the congested traffic and beeping cars to stressed people madly rushing about, Jamie realised how far from his world he'd strayed, and the distance was only under an hour's drive.

He hadn't even stepped out of his car, and already he was counting the minutes till he was back within the peaceful haven of Broch Mordha. But he'd made up his mind. He wasn't going back without Claire and had taken his passport with him just in case he would have to follow her all the way to London. How he was going to manage that with his unpredictable episodes, he had no idea. He hoped he would be able to keep his panic attacks at bay long enough until he found her and convinced her to come back home.

"I'll walk in with you," Harry said quietly out of the blue as if he'd sense his trepidation. "My flight isn't till later, and my wife is probably enjoying her cuppa tea somewhere."

The tightness in his body relaxed, and Jamie nodded gratefully. Harry seemed to always understand his situation, popping out of the blue at the strangest times. Jamie had never questioned it and put it down to simply Harry being unusually perceptive and a good friend.

They quietly walked side by side towards the airport and when they entered the building, moving bodies and a sea of faces swarmed his vision. The racket and clamour of people going about their business surrounded him, and Christmas crowds trying to make it home before Christmas jostled too close, their cacophony of voices chattering excitedly.

Jamie swallowed the mounting panic and fixed his thoughts on Claire, breathing deeply in through his nose and with a heaving chest, letting it all out with a whoosh. His eyes darted and saw people smiling and nodding animatedly, laughter and children's squeals infiltrating his consciousness, their sound accompanied by an air of anticipation that told him it was a season of joy.

Jamie managed to put a grim smile on his face and concentrated on getting one foot in front of the other, apologising now and again whenever he accidentally bumped into someone, almost stumbling like an intoxicated man. Although aware of Harry's presence, perspiration coated his skin, and he could feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. The usually comfortable soft fabric of his sweatshirt chaffed and squeezed him like a clamp almost suffocating him. The chaotic din typical of an airport during the holiday season came in a huge rush of waves, at first faint, then building to a deafening sound that roared in his ears, shattering his foundation and foothold.

Oh, God, please, not now. Jamie knew it was happening. Attempting not to panic, he began to employ a technique that more often than not worked. He tried listening to his mother's singing in his head, the one that stuck most in his mind and brought him comfort when he'd been amidst a conflict in a war zone, a song that sang him to sleep when he was a wee bairn.

He stopped a few metres away from the cafe where Claire was supposed to be waiting and took a moment to draw in oxygen, clinging to his mother's singing in his head. Goodnight, you moonlight ladies. Rockabye, sweet baby, James. Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose. Won't you let me go down in my dreams? And rockabye, sweet baby, James.

He dimly recognised where he was, busy eateries, cafes and shops lined a wide area, a focal point for those waiting for love ones to arrive or passengers before heading to security that led to the departure area. Someone's child screamed nearby, and the sound of suitcases dragging on its wheels seemed to rumble and reverberate on the ground. Christmas light decorations that normally shimmered unobtrusively and gave a soft glow suddenly seemed to flash all around him, and the Christmas songs playing in the background became disembodied sounds. Jamie froze, gripped in the throes of a colossal panic attack that forced him to sink halfway to his knees.

Everything seemed to fade in and out, but it was Harry's voice he eventually clung to, his mother's singing hushing into the recesses of his head. The Englishman repeated his name and grabbed hold of his elbow, preventing him from collapsing to the floor and leading him firmly away from the moving crowd. Jamie pitched himself against the giant column and fought the crippling dread chipping away at his sanity.

He glanced around frantically, but Harry's hand grabbed his face and forced him to look straight into amber eyes.

"Breathe, Jamie. Everything is going to be alright. Just keep breathing."

"H-Harry ...I n-need to ..."

"It's alright. I know. I'm not going anywhere. Just breath."

Jamie unzipped his jacket and fought for air, sucking in a lungful. And then, again and again, gasping and coughing as he doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees. Harry's strong hand massaged his back in a circular motion, the older man's presence calm and controlled, breathing with him, encouraging to gradually take in more air.

It took a while to normalise his breathing, his heart to calm down and the cold sweat to evaporate. As he regained more control, though wobbly at first, he straightened up. Gathering his bearings, he ignored the odd looks from passersby, by now already used to it.

Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "Feeling much better?"

Jamie managed a nod as the initial feeling of shame and embarrassment took over the panic attack. Why am I even here? Claire deserved so much better than this and all his fucking issues. On top of it all, he'd managed to make her feel cheap when he was nothing but just half a man. There was no way she'd go back to Broch Mordha with him.

"Oh no, you don't. I know that look in your eyes. You've made it this far, old sport," Harry whispered fiercely, straightening his jacket. "Don't you even think of going back home without trying!"

Jamie blinked, confused. What the fuck? What does Harry know? But there was no time to ask questions, as he caught a glimpse of Claire past Harry's shoulder. She was in the cafe in the motion of getting up, her head bowed down while speaking on the phone.

Last night, he'd held Claire in his arms and now, the reality of the moment hit him hard as he saw her hand gripped the suitcase next to her, reminding him she's waiting to board a plane. He could hardly think over the furious pounding in his chest as a combination of relief at seeing her and fear of rejection surged through him. He barely registered himself, moving towards the cafe when Harry put a hand on his arm. He turned to meet his friend's eyes. "You're on your own now. For now. Remember to breathe."

Jamie swallowed hard and nodded.

"Now go and hurry."

**********

Claire panicked, her eyes darting around the cafe. Annalise had just called and confessed Jamie was on his way to talk to her. Her friend had insisted on giving Jamie a chance to explain and that he'd made a mistake.

But Claire couldn't do this. She didn't have this sort of experience nor the emotional strength to handle this kind of situation. All she knew and was aware of was how much Jamie had hurt her with his words.

She quickly stood up, said goodbye to the woman sat on her table, grabbed her bags and made her way out of the cafe. She kept her head down and tried not to look around in case Jamie spotted her. She began to walk faster, weaving through crowds of travellers as she wheeled her suitcase, images of Jamie encroaching her thoughts. A new voice was trying to make itself heard, telling her maybe she ought to listen to what Jamie had to say. But what was there to say? She'd seen what he wrote with her own eyes, and there was no explaining himself out of it.

She was just getting into the queue for the security check when a shout cut through the hubbub surrounding her.

"Sassenach!"

She stiffened, and her hand went slack around the suitcase's handle, sending its bulk toppling to the floor. It took a few heartbeats for her to turn around and face Jamie, afraid her resolve would collapse if she looked at him. When she finally saw him, he stood a few yards away, suspended in a sea of bustling chaos. Perspiration beaded his forehead, his face pale and eyes a little wild as they searched hers, snagging on the way she snatched her suitcase to an upright position and pulled it closer to her side. As always, ever since she first laid eyes on him, his unusual male beauty made her chest ache. A head taller than most, he looked out of place in the busy surroundings, his blue eyes penetrating through everything in their wake to reanimate her heart.

She waited for something to happen, but he just continued to stare at her, his body swaying a little. He looked like he was about to faint. Worry, combined with fear prickled her skin when she recalled his accounts of his PTSD condition. She'd made it this far, and now she was torn between going over to him and making her way to the security.

"What are you doing here?" she said a little harshly.

"Dinnae go in that plane.”

"It's too late for that."

Anguish fogged his handsome features. "I need ye to hear me out, Sassenach. Please."

Claire shook her head. "What is there to say, Jamie? That text you wrote, told me everything already."

"Please let me explain ..."

"I already know what you're going to say, Jamie. You're going to say you didn't mean to write that text. It's classic and cliche at the same time and utter bullshit." Claire's shoulders sagged, and she swallowed hard. "No, I'm sorry, I can't ..."

She started to step into the queue, but stopped, her heart caught in her throat when a passerby in a rush accidentally bumped into him, and he almost vaulted over. She saw how much it took out of him just to remain upright. She made a move to come to his aide, but he stopped her with a motion of his hand, telling her he would say his piece without any help. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took several deep breaths, discomfort, and distress in this busy environment evident on his face.

"You don't look well, Jamie. You should go home," she said, glancing around, aware of people looking at him.

"Damn it, Sassenach," he wheezed. "I'm gonnae make ye listen even if it kills me."

A stabbing pain went through her heart. "I can't do this, Jamie. I'm going."

"No!" He took another unsteady step forward. When Claire stayed put, relief washed over his face. "What I wrote to my sister about you was wrong ..."

Rage replaced the hurt she was feeling. "You made it sound I was just a notch on the bedpost," she snapped, angrily.

Jamie winced as a woman nearby gasped and glared at him, but they both ignored her. "No, Sassenach. You were never that ..."

"Your words winter fling said it all. What else could it mean?"

"Sometimes, what I think and what I feel doesn't translate into words ..."

"Or you don't think at all," she interrupted, tipping her head back to keep the tears from falling.

His head dropped. "No, I didnae think. What I said was inexcusable, and no explanation or apologies would take any of the hurt I caused ye back."

"It was a horrid thing to say about someone!"

His face flickered with regret and self-loathing. "It was, and I'm an arsehole for it."

"They why? Why Jamie? Is that how you talk about your conquests?"

His face paled even more. "No! You're not that at all. What we had was special, and I've never felt like this about someone before."

"You could have fooled me ..."

He took a careful step forward as if afraid she would bolt. "Sassenach, I said what I said not because that was what I thought about you and that's the truth. Partly, I text those words to get my sister off my case. She was badgering me for getting involved with ye because she was worried about me falling for someone from the city due to my condition. Another part of the reason I wrote that had to do with my fear of getting emotionally attached. I thought by labelling what we had as temporary, it would be easier to let ye go when the time comes. It was wrong ...so wrong. I wish I hadnae said it."

Claire could barely see him through the blur of tears. The awful pain she'd had in her heart all morning waned a little. She forced her feet to move, but the emotion in his voice kept her rooted in place.

"Christ, everything happened so fast between us. And I was rushing ahead before I could comprehend what was happening. When ye told me ye live in London, I was convinced that nothing could come out of this ...us ...whatever this is we have ....because I wouldnae ken how to live in yer world and it wouldnae be right to ask ye to give up yers. When I asked ye to extend yer stay, my intention was to make as many memories with ye because I needed to face the truth of my limitations. I was determined not to be that someone who held ye back and made ye regret what ye could've done. I said to mysel' whatever time ye could give me, I'd be grateful. Yet, here I am, begging ye not to get on that plane."

She wanted to go to him, take him in her arms and forget what had happened, but she needed more. She needed to know that this thing between them was more than just a handy itinerary with chemistry tossed into the mix. For her, it had always been more, but he's a man, and maybe it's just all about sex for him.

"Sorry, Jamie." Bracing her shoulders, she pulled her suitcase behind her and joined the line for security check-up.

"Wait!"

She and every person within hearing distance in the queue turned around to look at him.

This time, Jamie didn't flinch and looked at her straight in the eyes with unwavering intensity. "I cannae let ye go without giving it my best shot. I've used my condition as an excuse for far too long, yet not once did ye ever look at me as someone damaged. I dinnae want my condition to stop me anymore from going after what I want. I swear to God, ye havenae seen persistence yet, Sassenach. Ye have nae idea what it looks like until ye've seen it on me. I've fought for my life in a war zone before, and I'm doing it again now. If ye get on that bloody plane, be rest assured I will be on the next flight behind yours. I will show up in every God damned place ye go to until ye give me the time of day. And I willnae stop until I get it through yer pretty head how much ye mean to me. And if ye come back to me, I promise ye, I'm gonnae work my arse off to prove to ye every day how special ye are. Even if it means moving to London to be closer to ye. All I'm asking for is a second chance."

Looking at him, she knew he meant every word, and there was an intensity about him, that told her he would go through with his threat of following her to London. A lump stuck in Claire's throat, so huge she could barely speak. Her face crumpled, and she let the unshed tears she'd held all morning flow. Unable to stand a moment longer without feeling his arms around her, she let go of her grip on her suitcase and began to make a move towards him. Jamie fell back a few steps, both hands flying to rest on top of his head, relief and disbelief visible in every line of his body. She covered the distance separating them in three steps and flung herself into strong arms that circled around her without hesitation. Applause, cheers and whistles from passengers who had witnessed the scene erupted around them, making them both laugh through tears.

"Jesus Christ, Jamie," she stammered with a hiccup. "You really know how to cause a scene and really make it count."

A hand tunnelled through her hair, gripping her neck so he could angle her head and kiss her. "I'm so sorry, Sassenach. Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he muttered against her lips. "I was an idiot. I thought I wasnae gonnae make it."

A shudder passed through her. "I almost got on a plane and spent Christmas on my own."

Jamie fell back into the nearest seat, taking Claire with him. Obviously spent from all the emotions. "Dinnae remind me ...ever again, please. But just so ye know, I have my passport with me. I was ready to come after ye. Today."

Claire clung to him tighter. "It's Christmas, and we're together. Let's just focus on that."

"Christ, I thought I knew fear." His breath shook and fanned her skin. "That was the scariest situation I've been in."

She let out a sigh, inhaling his scent from the crook of his neck. How had she thought for one second that running away would have been a better option? She thought of the woman she spoke to earlier in the cafe and smiled.

Jamie shook her a little. "Ye're going to think this is mad, but I dinnae want to take another second for granted, so I'm just going to say it, so ye ken once and for all."

"Say what?" she whispered. Jamie tilted her face up for a slow, deep kiss, then stood, lifting her in his arms.

"I'm in love with ye, Sassenach. I ken it's too soon, but I want it out there just in case something happens and I dinnae get another chance to say it, or I do something stupid like making ye cry. Life's too short for over-analysing things and keeping something like that to myself."

She smiled through fresh tears. "I'm in love with you too, Jamie. And next time you say something stupid, I'm just going to get into a fight with you about it, instead of running away."

Jamie's laughter rumbled in his chest before his face turned serious. "Merry Christmas, Sassenach. May it be our first of many more to come."

Claire reached out and clasped his face with her hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips. Her heart broke open, and for the first time, all the pieces clicked together in a perfect puzzle, and everything made perfect sense. Because she'd learned early on you needed to take the bad with the good and embrace it all. Despite Jamie's condition and fear of uncertainty, she'd taken a gamble and trusted her guts, and by giving him a second chance, they'd ended up with the best thing of all.

Love at Christmas.

She knew it wasn't going to be smooth sailing forever. There were going to be long talks of how they ought to proceed with their relationship, compromises to be made, and probably many teething problems during their phase of getting to know each other. But as long they both keep their hearts open, they should have a fighting chance.

"Merry Christmas to you too," she whispered, her voice raspy with emotion.

"Shall we go home?" he murmured, smiling.

"Yes, let's go home."

Hand in hand they left the airport and headed back to Broch Mordha to celebrate Christmas.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, thank you for your best wishes and feedback from the previous chapter. This latest update was supposed to be published on Christmas day. Unfortunately, because I was so overly ambitious about the storyline, I was unable to deliver. I didn't want to rush it after having gone through the story in my head many times. Rushing it probably would have made me miss many of the elements I wanted to put in this story.

Anyway, I had a lovely quiet Christmas. With everything that's happening globally, it was more of a time for reflection for us instead of celebration. I am just grateful that my love ones are safe and healthy and hope you're own dearests are as well. As for this story's direction, I don't know how many chapters there are to go, but I can safely say there is another one after this. I will try to publish before New Year, and if I am unable to do so, I wish you all a New Year full of exciting possibilities, good health and lots of love. Keep the good vibes rolling and take care. X

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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tigerkirby215 · 3 years

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5e Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness build (My Little Pony: FIM)

(Artwork by SophiesPlushies on DeviantArt.)

Like, it took me a solid 5 minutes to find the first image in this post and I had to sift through so much softcore porn to find it. I didn’t even find it by searching DeviantArt I had to go on fucking derpibooru oh my lord.

Anyways: here’s another shit brony build because people don’t hate me enough! Well that and I do genuinely love the characters from My Little Pony, and think that they’d be fun to make builds for. But feel free to call me a garbage brony at your leisure.

These are the words of a man who has been beaten down after being a brony for around 10 years.

GOALS

I'm just good with animals - Fluttershy talks to animals. That’s one of the main things she does really.

I'm doing this because you're my very best friend - As the element of kindness we of course need to share our heart and soul with our friends.

Nopony pushes new Fluttershy around! - MLP Wiki makes an express point of mentioning The Stare in Fluttershy’s powers, so of course we’ll do our best to include that.

RACE

Before you say anything no I’m not a pegasi stan just because I did both Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. Regardless Aaracokra still makes the most sense for Fluttershy unfortunately because there’s few bird races and fewer flying races.

As an Aaracokra you +2 to Dexterity and +1 to Wisdom which we’ll be keeping because I don’t know if your DM will allow Tasha’s rules. You also get 50 feet of Flight but you can’t be wearing Medium or Heavy Armor to do this, which means I don’t get to say “something something Medium Armor.” And finally you can buck someone to deal damage equal to a d4 plus your Strength; technically their Talons which deal slashing damage but feel free to view them however you want.

If I was to build Fluttershy I’d honestly use the Owlfolk UA race (which will hopefully be out in Wild Beyond the Witchlight and / or Strixhaven) for a multitude of reasons, the most notable of which being the fact that you can fly with Medium armor as an Owlfolk. But the Detect Magic Ritual ability is also nice as is the reaction to stop yourself from falling. Unfortunately Aaracokra technically made more sense since Fluttershy can’t detect magic.

Basically even I have to make choices which are suboptimal in order to ensure maximum roleplay, and even when I play my builds I change them to make them better to play.

ABILITY SCORES

15; WISDOM - You are compassionate and good with animals: both those things are Wisdom skills!

14; DEXTERITY - Since I can’t go “something something medium armor” for this build (yay Aaracokra) I guess getting a 16 in DEX thanks to your race is a good call. If playing an Owlfolk or something you can afford to having 14 total in DEX, as you can then wear medium armor.

13; CONSTITUTION - Look, roleplay stats are great and all but so is not dying.

12; CHARISMA - You are cute small pony... bird... Pony-bird...

10; INTELLIGENCE - Most of your time was spent taking care of animals and most of your knowledge comes from on-hand training as opposed to studying. Basically you’re not Twilight.

8; STRENGTH - As a young filly Rainbow Dash would do most of the heavy lifting for you. As a young mare Rainbow Dash still does most the heavy lifting for you. She is a Barbarian after all!

BACKGROUND

Most ponies know to come to you if their pets are in trouble, and if you’ve ever had pets you know the doctor that helps them is a true Folk Hero. As a Folk Hero you get proficiency in Animal Handling (yay) but I’d swap the Survival proficiency out for Stealth because well... you’re very good at hiding. You also get proficiency with Land Vehicles (most Land Vehicles in D&D are controlled by animals; usually horses! Wait... aren’t you a horse?) and an Artisan’s Tool of your choice: go for Carpenter’s Tools to make some bird houses and chicken coops!

After living in Ponyville for so long most ponies are willing to give you some Rustic Hospitality, giving you a warm place to rest and recover... as long as you can get over your crippling shyness! Eep!

(Artwork by probablyfakeblonde on DeviantArt.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - CLERIC 1

Starting off as a Cleric because I thought Wisdom and Charisma saves were more fitting for Fluttershy, and for the Insight and Medicine skill proficiencies.

As a Cleric you get to choose your subclass at level 1, and there’s nothing you love more than a little bit of Peace and quiet. As a Peace Cleric you get proficiency in Performance thanks to Implement of Peace, for those great MLP song numbers. But more importantly you can call on the power of friendship for an Emboldening Bond!

As an action, you choose a number of friends within 30 feet of you (this can include yourself) equal to your proficiency bonus. Your friendship bonds them together for 10 minutes or until you use this feature again. While any bonded creature is within 30 feet of another they get a d4 they can add to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw once per turn. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

And finally we can talk about the Spellcasting! You get three cantrips from the Cleric list at level 1: Guidance is always welcome among friends, and Spare the Dying can be a literal life safer! Other than that you are still expected to fight in D&D so take Sacred Flame to defend yourself. You can also prepare a number of spells equal to your Cleric level plus your Wisdom modifier. As a Peace Domain Cleric you can inspire Heroism among your friends, or protect yourself (and hide!) with Sanctuary.

Other than that Healing Word is a staple healing spell (we aren’t taking Cure Wounds right now for reasons but feel free to prepare it), Shield of Faith will let you defend your allies, Protection from Evil and Good will help you invoke the Elements of Harmony against the big bad of the season, and Detect Evil and Good will help you find the Elements of Harmony!

You could also take Bless, but I’m not going to tell you to take Bless because optimizers would crucify me for telling you to double up on d4s.

LEVEL 2 - CLERIC 2

Second level Clerics get their Channel Divinity once per short rest and you have a variety of options to choose from:

Turn Undead will make skeletons and zombies not want to hurt the cute little ponies, which will force them to run away for awhile.

Balm of Peace (the main reason we took the second level in Cleric) will let you run around and heal all your friends for 2d6 plus your Wisdom modifier.

And Harness Divine Power (ty Tasha’s) will let you recover a spell slot, but can only be used a limited amount of times per Long Rest.

You can also prepare another spell and be a little less nice with Command. Telling your enemies to “LOVE” isn’t going to be that effective, but making them grovel or drop works just as fine.

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

When you spend enough time around animals you’re automatically either a Ranger or a Druid. Quinn? Never heard of ‘em. Regardless multiclassing into Ranger gives you proficiency in a skill from the Ranger list and it’s good to know about Nature so you can find plants to help your fluffy buddies! Deft Explorer also gives you two language proficiencies (again: pick your poison) and Expertise in a skill. You’ll never guess which skill we’ll be getting... it’s Animal Handling. You’re good with animals.

We actually aren’t going to be taking Favored Foe because we aren’t using weapons for one, but more importantly despite it’s name Favored Enemy is also good for tracking friends! You have advantage on Survival checks to track your favored “enemies”, as well as on Intelligence checks to recall information about them. Go for Beasts to easily find a feathered or fluffy friend! Oh and you also get more languages because I don’t know why, so again pick your poison.

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get their Fighting Style, or as I like to call it your Helping Style because we’ll be going for Druidic Warrior! You can pick up two cantrips from the Druid list: I opted for Druidcraft (you can grow some flowers for your friends; yay!) and Mending to tend to your cottage.

And of course with cantrips we also get more Spellcasting! You can learn two spells from the Druid list: you’re never not going to want Cure Wounds (which is why we didn’t take it earlier btw) and Animal Friendship is an obvious must.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

Third level Rangers get to choose their Ranger Archetype and we’ll be going for the Gloomsta- Ah you all know it’s going to be Beast Master. You get a Ranger’s Companion not from the PHB but from Tasha’s! The Beast of Land would make the most sense and while it’s probably expected that they be a wolf or something you can pretend that you’re playing Fighting is Magic and have Angel Bunny fight for you! Anyways here’s a crash course on your new fluffy friend:

Their AC is equal to 13 plus your proficiency bonus (currently 16.)

Their health is equal to 5 + five times your Ranger level (currently 20) and they have a number of d8 hit die equal to your Ranger level.

They have a 40 foot movement speed and a 40 foot climbing speed.

You can command it to attack with your bonus action; it has the same hit chance as your spell hit chance (WIS mod + Prof Bonus [currently 6]) and deals a d8 + 2 + prof bonus damage.

If they move at least 20 feet straight toward a target and then hit with an attack on the same turn, the target takes an extra 1d6 slashing damage and must make a Strength saving throw against your spell save DC (if they’re a creature.) If they fail they’re knocked prone.

You can command the beast to attack, dash, disengage, or hide with your bonus action.

If you don’t command it they take the dodge action.

You can revive them with a spell of first level or higher 1 hour after they die, and can change your beast after a long rest.

Man, who knew that taking care of a pet was so difficult? Well you also get Primeval Awareness (because Primal Awareness actually doesn’t work that well for this build.) You can use your action and one spell slot to sense the following types of creatures within 1 mile of you: aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. This lasts for one minute, and doesn’t reveal the creatures’ location or number.

And you learn another spell: Goodberry is good to feed yourself and all your friends! As long as they’re okay with eating berries, of course. C’mon... they’re good for you! Pleeeease?

(Artwork by AssasinMonkey on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

Finally an Ability Score Improvement... or Feat? We’ll be going for Eldritch Adept, which is admittedly weird but it’s the only way to get Beast Speech so you can Speak with Animals at will! Is total level 6 a little late to finally be able to speak with animals? Yeah, but this is unlimited so it fits better and doesn’t spend your spell slots.

LEVEL 7 - CLERIC 3

Finally back to Cleric land which means finally we can prepare some second level spells! As a Peace domain Cleric you automatically get Aid and Warding Bond prepared, both of which are very good for keeping your friends alive. You can also finally get Hold Person to finally have The Stare!

LEVEL 8 - CLERIC 4

Level 4 in Cleric means another Ability Score Improvement: Wisdom is still your core stat so increasing that by 2 would be your best choice.

You also get another cantrip at this level, and can prepare two more spells! For cantrips I’d recommend Light to see with your dumb bird eyes unless you’re an Owlfolk, and I’d recommend preparing Lesser Restoration and Enhance Ability to further boost your friends.

(Artwork by Koveliana on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 9 - CLERIC 5

5th level Clerics can now Destroy Undead of CR 1/2 or lower with their Channel Divinity. Don’t feel too bad about it; they were big dumb meanies anyways!

You can also prepare third level spells too! As a Peace Domain Cleric you get Beacon of Hope to help with healing, and Spike can send letters out for you with Sending. You can also prepare Dispel Magic in case Twilight needs help with more dangerous spells.

LEVEL 10 - CLERIC 6

6th level Peace Clerics get Protective Bond. When a creature affected by your Emboldening Bond is about to take damage, another bonded creature within 30 feet of the first can use its reaction to teleport to an unoccupied space within 5 feet of the first creature. That creature then takes all the damage instead. It’s worth mentioning that since this specifies “creature” you can actually bond with your beast companion and have it use its reaction, or have others go in to defend angel.

You can also prepare another third level spell like Revivify, so you don’t lose any friends. And to top it off you can use your Channel Divinity twice per short rest! Woohoo!

LEVEL 11 - CLERIC 7

7th level Cleric, 4th level spells. As a Peace Domain Cleric you get Aura of Purity to protect your friends, and Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere to put your enemies in time out. You can also prepare another spell like Freedom of Movement, in case you need to run!

LEVEL 12 - CLERIC 8

8th level Clerics get a variety of features. To start off you get an Ability Score Improvement, which means we can finally cap off your Wisdom for maximum spellcasting! This also means you can prepare more spells, but we’re actually going to hold off on getting more spells for now.

You can also put a little more LOVE into your spells with Potent Spellcasting, adding your Wisdom modifier to the damage of your Cleric cantrips. And finally your Channel Divinity will now Destroy Undead or CR 1 or lower.

LEVEL 13 - CLERIC 9

The reason we held off on getting more Cleric spells last level is because now we get those big 5th level spells! As a Peace Domain Cleric you can help your friends out of any jam with Greater Restoration, and know what they really mean to say thanks to Rary’s Telepathic Bond.

You can also prepare some of those big hitter spells like Mass Cure Wounds to save your friends, and you can cast both Dawn and Summon Celestial to call on Celestia herself! Isn’t that Twilight’s job? Well, it’s still good to have contacts!

(Artwork by CigarsCigarettes on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 14 - RANGER 5

Now that we’ve got all the support we could need for our friends it’s time to return to our roots and focus on Angel! Feel free to focus more on Ranger instead of Cleric if you so desire when building this yourself; I simply opted for more healing instead of damage.

We’re finally 5th level with Ranger which finally means you’ll be getting an Extra Attack!... Which you probably won’t use because you can use cantrips instead. Well it’s still nice to have?

The good thing though is that you can learn more Ranger spells like Healing Spirit, which is a really strong healing spell that was kinda gutted by erratas. But it’s still nice and efficient regardless of what spell slot you casted it at, effectively being a 6d6 heal for a second level spell slot!

LEVEL 15 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers can now add Roving to their list of skills from Deft Explorer. Your movement speed increases by 5 feet, and you get both a climbing and swimming speed equal to your walking speed. Is total level 15 a little late to get a 30 foot movement speed? Yeah probably, but every little bit helps!

Speaking of another little bit you get another Favored Enemy... I mean friend! ...I don’t know pick whatever you think will be relevant for the campaign. Also yes: you do get more languages, because Ranger.

LEVEL 16 - RANGER 7

7th level Beast Masters have Exceptional Training with their Animal Companion. You can use a bonus action to command the beast to take the Dash, Disengage, or Help action on its turn... which you could already do anyways thanks to Tasha’s.

I’d say that after Tasha’s this feature would work even if you don’t command your beast, but as always discuss the rules with your DM.

Well at least Angel’s attacks count as magical to overcome resistances, which is good because you were probably dealing with nonmagical resistance for awhile now.

You can also prepare another spell like Pass Without Trace, so you and your friends can sneak around unseen. Pass Without Trace is one of those spells that is always useful regardless of what level you are, so picking it up now is still useful!

LEVEL 17 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get another Ability Score Improvement. You’ve probably noticed our uneven Constitution score by this point: yeah that was because we were going to grab Resilient Constitution at some point. Increasing your CON gives you a nice +17 to your health and makes your Constitution saves (and concentration saves!) a +8 total.

You’ve also spent so much time on the ground moving through nonmagical difficult terrain costs you no extra movement thanks to Land’s Stride. You can also pass through nonmagical plants without being slowed by them or taking damage from them. Additionally, you have advantage on saving throws against plants that are magically created or manipulated to impede movement. You may be able to fly but that doesn’t mean being able to move on the ground isn’t useful!

(Artwork by AssasinMonkey on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 18 - RANGER 9

9th level Rangers can learn third level spells, and you’ve probably spent enough time training with Rainbow Dash by this point to make a Wind Wall to protect your friends! (Basically the Ranger spell list sucks and we’re only really going down Ranger still for more subclass features.)

LEVEL 19 - RANGER 10

You get a new feature from Deft Explorer at this level: you are now Tireless! As an action you can give yourself a number of temporary hit points equal to 1d8 plus your Wisdom modifier (so 5.) You can use this action a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Additionally whenever you finish a short rest your exhaustion level is decreased by 1.

You’re also a master of avoiding social interaction. Nature’s Veil lets you turn invisible as a Bonus Action until the start of your next turn. You can also use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a Long Rest.

LEVEL 20 - RANGER 11

11th level Beast Masters can invoke Bestial Fury! With 11 level in Ranger and 20 total levels in this build your Animal Companion can now... attack twice! Look Beast Master is playable now, I never said it was good.

At least you can learn one last Ranger spell: in your ultimate stand against darkness Daylight will help you banish the dark! ...Or something. Look again: the Ranger spell list sucks.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

You do not hurt my friends! You got that? - Even with the multiclassing you still get spell slots up to 7th level, and have more than enough magic to shake a stick at. Not to mention that Angel will always be by your side to pump out a bit more damage with your Bonus Action!

You’re the cutest thing ever - Maxed out Wisdom was rather expected from a Cleric, but Expertise in Animal Handling combined with unlimited Beast Speech means that you can easily make friends with any beast you come across! Just make sure your DM is okay with you giving a hydra belly rubs.

Whatever you wanna do is fine... - You’ve got quite a good mix of features that will help you both in and out of combat, meaning that there’s plenty that your friends can rely on you to help with! In fact there’s a lot of things that only you can do as a Ranger which are quite helpful!

CONS

You’re such a loudmouth... - Most of your class resources only come back after a Long Rest, with only your Channel Divinity coming back after a Short Rest. You’re still plenty capable with just Angel by your side but don’t spend everything in one fight, or else you’ll be left with nothing but Sacred Flame and Animal Companion attacks.

Are you coughing because... - So let’s talk about Angel: even with 11 levels in Ranger they’re not great. AC of 19 is pretty good but they’ll probably max out around 60 HP. Your average Wizard will have more HP than this by level 20. Two maul attacks will do decent damage but you could get equal value out of Spiritual Weapon, and you only get the second attack with Angel at total build level 20. And yeah for most of this build Angel is going to be sitting around 25 max HP, meaning they’re likely to go down a lot. Aid can help keep your pets healthy and happy but don’t be upset when your level 4 Ranger companion keeps going down.

Awful, just awful! - We kinda miss the best of both worlds for the sake of a build that’s “in-character.” No 10th level of Cleric means no Divine Intervention (even if it’s only a 10% chance it’s still good to have), and no 12th level of Ranger means no ASIs. One good thing about this build is that it does peak around level 10 or so where the multiclassing doesn’t start to damage it, but if you really expect to run all the way to level 20 I’d sooner play either a straight Ranger or a straight Cleric.

But you’re coming along to share your kindness with everypony around you, and guide your friends to victory! Use your expertise to keep your friends alive while Angel kicks some major tail! Get down and be assertive, but remember not to push yourself too hard. Everypony already loves you for who you are, even if you’re in fact a little shy.

(Artwork by Rodrigues404 on DeviantArt.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #My Little Pony #Friendship is Magic #mlp: fim #brony #dnd ranger #dnd cleric #fluttershy #flutter pony #animals

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hockeysweetheart · 4 years

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I was thinking about Katniss saying she never wanted to have children. I noticed most of the time she said she never wanted kids Gale was involved. Yes there are points fear yes if her and Peeta had kids with Snow in power. Her children would have a one way ticket to the games. But after the Peeta’s baby bomb she was like okay didn’t expect then then very shortly after she’s like well the damage is done thank god I had no say in this. and Then a few chapters later she was like it’s not my plan to have kids with Gale your crazy. 2 seconds later oh I dream of a world Peeta’s child is safe.

Okay Katniss who knew Gale better but Peeta longer. She is totally like me Marry Gale ahahaha your so Funny Me Have his children pfft not a freaking Chance. But when it comes to Peeta she could of denied it but she didn’t. sure she said “it’s for an act” but she knows she was fooling herself saying that because of the sheer fact that she was like well he’s not that bad... blushes... plus she never worked up any excuse for Hey Peeta we over. Because I truely beileve she had feeling for him the whole damn time. and when it came to Gale she’s like were friends. Peeta it’s like oh my god you saved my life I can’t live without you. ( without admitting shes in love with him). becuase lord knows how long that took. anyways I got off track a bit.

I’ll say this again she wanted to be with Gale because it would be the biggest slap in the face to the Capitol but she couldn’t let go of Peeta. without Fail every single time she had sparks with Gale her Feelings for Peeta were not far behind. Plus she totally burned that bridge when Gale came out as a player. but It’s Gale confusing Katniss when they kissed. Because not once before the games did he say btw I like you any sign of it that Katniss caught on. Whereas Peeta is flirting with Katniss the whole freaking time. and yes Katniss is a little slow to catch on so slow in fact it took Peeta to tell the whole world that he’s madly in love with the world before she realized that he was just a boy in love with me. ( in fact it took her longer to realize that).

Okay Katniss is a bit slow to show it. But some kisses were for I couldn’t do this without you. That beach kiss was all love sweetheart ( at that point we all knew that Peeta won Katniss’s heart.) But like Gale literally almost got whipped to death and her reaction was like was like just give him the meds to knock him out let him slip away. and for Peeta when he hit that force field it’s like oh my god I cannot live without you. Don’t ever do that again. and like later without Peeta I’ll never be truely happy again. I do I need you. I’ll be damaged beyond repare with you gone.

Below are some refences I pulled up of The whole “ not having kids or marrying to doing both” subject...

chapter 1 the hunger games

"We could do it, you know," Gale says quietly. "What?" I ask. "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," says Gale. I don't know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous. "If we didn't have so many kids," he adds quickly. They're not our kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale's two little brothers and a sister. Prim. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us? Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more? With both of us hunting daily, there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool, still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling. "I never want to have kids," I say. "I might. If I didn't live here," says Gale. "But you do," I say, irritated. "Forget it," he snaps back. The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain I love? And Gale is devoted to his family. We can't leave, so why bother talking about it? And even if we did. even if we did. where did this stuff about having kids come from? There's never been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we met, I was a skinny twelve-year-old, and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out. Besides, if he wants kids, Gale won't have any trouble finding a wife. He's good-looking, he's strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt. You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find.

the hunger games chapter 3

Finally, Gale is here and maybe there is nothing romantic between us, but when he opens his arms I don't hesitate to go into them. His body is familiar to me - the way it moves, the smell of wood smoke, even the sound of his heart beating I know from quiet moments on a hunt - but this is the first time I really feel it, lean and hard-muscled against my own.

the hunger games chapter 10

I don't know what to think. "I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid." "No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real," says Portia. "She's just worried about her boyfriend," says Peeta gruffly, tossing away a bloody piece of the urn. My cheeks burn again at the thought of Gale. "I don't have a boyfriend." "Whatever," says Peeta. "But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?" The words are sinking in. My anger fading. I'm torn now between thinking I've been used and thinking I've been given an edge. Haymitch is right. I survived my interview, but what was I really? A silly girl spinning in a sparkling, dress. Giggling. The only moment of any substance I hail was when I talked about Prim. Compare that with Thresh, his silent, deadly power, and I'm forgettable. Silly and sparkly and forgettable. No, not entirely forgettable, I have my eleven in training.

the hunger games chapter 23

Four of us left.

For the first time, I allow myself to truly think about the possibility that I might make it home. To fame. To wealth. To my own house in the Victor's Village. My mother and Prim would live there with me. No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom. But then. what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares me some. I think of Haymitch, with all his money. What did his life become? He lives alone, no wife or children, most of his waking hours drunk. I don't want to end up like that.

"But you won't be alone," I whisper to myself. I have my mother and Prim. Well, for the time being. And then. I don't want to think about then, when Prim has grown up, my mother passed away. I know I'll never marry, never risk bringing a child into the world. Because if there's one thing being a victor doesn't guarantee, it's your children's safety. My kids' names would go right into the reaping balls with everyone else's. And I swear I'll never let that happen.

catching fire chapter 2 ( this was what katniss was gonna say to gale after he kissed her)

That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday. I had this whole speech worked out, about how I didn't want a boyfriend and never planned on marrying, but I didn't end up using it. Gale acted as if the kiss had never happened.

Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. Or kiss him back. Instead I just pretended it had never happened, either. But it had. Gale had shattered some invisible barrier between us and, with it, any hope I had of resuming our old, uncomplicated friendship. Whatever I pretended, I could never look at his lips in quite the same way.

catching fire chapter 4

In my room, I remove my sodden slippers, my wet robe and pajamas. There are more in the drawers but I just crawl between the covers of my bed in my underclothes. I stare into the darkness, thinking about my conversation with Haymitch. Everything he said was true about the Capitol's expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn't really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. If we do, they'll have to face the reaping each year. And wouldn't it be something to see the child of not one but two victors chosen for the arena? Victors' children have been in the ring before. It always causes a lot of excitement and generates talk about how the odds are not in that family's favor. But it happens too frequently to just be about odds. Gale's convinced the Capitol does it on purpose, rigs the drawings to add extra drama. Given all the trouble I've caused, I've probably guaranteed any child of mine a spot in the Games.

catching fire chapter 18

There. He's done it again. Dropped a bomb that wipes out the efforts of every tribute who came before him. Well, maybe not. Maybe this year he has only lit the fuse on a bomb that the victors themselves have been building. Hoping someone would be able to detonate it. Perhaps thinking it would be me in my bridal gown. Not knowing how much I rely on Cinna's talents, whereas Peeta needs nothing more than his wits. As the bomb explodes, it sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can't ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is. I am pregnant. The audience can't absorb the news right away. It has to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they begin to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help. And me? I know my face is projected in a tight close-up on the screen, but I don't make any effort to hide it. Because for a moment, even I am working through what Peeta has said. Isn't it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the Games? And it could be true now, couldn't it? If I hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until I recoil at even the suggestion of marriage or a family?

The moment we step off the elevator, Peeta grips my shoulders. "There isn't much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologize for?"

"Nothing," I say. It was a big leap to take without my okay, but I'm just as glad I didn't know, didn't have time to second-guess him, to let any guilt over Gale detract from how I really feel about what Peeta did. Which is empowered.

catching fire chapter 24

Peeta won't let him, though. "It's too dangerous," he says. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I don't object because I do need to sleep if I'm to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are. He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. "You're going to make a great mother, you know," he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick. His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn't used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated. But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids with Gale? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that's never been part of my plan. And for another, if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta. As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.

mockingjay chapter 3

I skim my list. "Gale. I'll need him with me to do this." "With you how? Off camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?" Coin asks. She hasn't said this with any particular malice - quite the contrary, her words are very matter-of-fact. But my mouth still drops open in shock. "What?" "I think we should continue the current romance. A quick defection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for her," says Plutarch. "Especially since they think she's pregnant with his child." "Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?" says Coin. I just stare at her. She repeats herself impatiently. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?" "We can always work him in as your cousin," says Fulvia.

"We're not cousins," Gale and I say together.

"Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances' sake on camera," says Plutarch. "Off camera, he's all yours. Anything else?"

I'm rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I'm in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I'm devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. "When the war is over, if we've won, Peeta will be pardoned."

Dead silence. I feel Gale's body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasn't sure how he'd respond. Not when it involved Peeta.

mockingjay

They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years. How can I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:

My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard. Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I'll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won't ever really go away. I'll tell them how I survive it. I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.

#thg #Katniss #katniss everdeen #Peeta #Peeta Mellark #gale hawthorne #gale #Hunger Games #The Hunger Games #CatchingFire #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss and peeta #everlark

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 271: My Hero Tokodemia

Previously on BnHA: Mic was all “goodbye X-Less don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and just LEFT him with Tomura, like. ???! X-Less was all “I’m gonna sit here and do nothing and wait to die.” Ujiko was all “this has nothing to do with ANYTHING but I just want you to know that I conspired to murder your husband 15 years ago and ended up killing his best friend instead!” Tomura was all “what up bitches I’m in this chapter too” and had trippy dreams about hands and buildings and his family was there and also All for One (the dude)! Because guess what, Tomura has All For One (the quirk) now! Because AFO gave it to him! So yeah! And now he’s waking up, and Deku can apparently feel it happening because he’s a horcrux probably, and so basically everything is FINALLY GOING TO SHIT AND IT’S ABOUT TIME BUT ALSO AHHHHH.

Today on BnHA: SHIGARAKI WHO TOMURA WHAT. Back to Gunga Mountain! So Dabi is all “you do know your beloved mentor just killed a guy right?” and Toko is all “!!” and Dabi is all “SO THAT MAKES HIM THE WORST CRIMINAL OF ALL!” and, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF IRONY, IMMEDIATELY follows up this bold statement by TRYING TO BURN A CHILD ALIVE. Anyway so this is why Dabi wasn’t the keynote speaker at the “murder is bad” convention though. So most of the chapter is like this, with Dabi (albeit somewhat halfheartedly) trying to set Toko on fire while Toko desperately tries to keep between him and Hawks. Eventually though, Dabi is confusingly thwarted by Otter Pops, making his triumphant return and spraying a bunch of ice just every which way because things weren’t chaotic enough I guess! And then the chapter ends with everyone’s favorite Guy They Hoped Wouldn’t Be Waking Up In This Arc, Gigantomachia, waking up!! :’) :’) :’) etc you get it.

okay so I am please to clarify that the spoilers I received were not actually all that big of a deal, and that pretty much all I know is that we’re cutting back to Dabi and Tokoyami probably, and there’s a good chance we might not even see Tomura at all this chapter in spite of last week’s cliffhanger. so even if I’d have preferred not to know that up front, it’s all good! though I will say Horikoshi has a real knack for cutting away from things right when you’re at your most invested though. reminds me of what it was like reading Lord of the Rings for the first time. “nooo I don’t want to cut back to Frodo -- WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON -- NO I DON’T WANT TO CUT BACK TO MERRY AND PIPPIN DAMMIT -- WAIT WHAT”

anyways! lol guys guess what

so then! those spoilers did indeed have the ring of truth! well this should be interesting

lmao he’s forcibly clawing his way out of Fat’s belly via aggressive use of Dark Shadow oh damn

oh man you guys. time to catalog some feels

Fatgum you do realize you were in the running for #2 hero but have now bled serious points by letting a child run back into danger and doing absolutely nothing to stop him! although to be fair you do have other children to protect, and this one child also should not have been able to do what he just did! and also Child Endangerment is U.A.’s unofficial motto and you didn’t even go to U.A. but you would fit right in though let me tell you. but anyway so the point is this isn’t really anything new, but still

HIS BODY JUST MOVED BEFORE HE COULD THINK ahhhh Toko. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT!! THE MY HERO TOKODEMIA ARC BEGINS NOW

I hope we get a followup panel of Kaminari freaking out and trying to go after his pal (but not actually succeeding though, because I swear to god Fatgum, if you fuck this up again all of my remaining goodwill is just gonna fly right out the window. and it’s a lot of goodwill too! but we don’t screw around when it comes to children’s safety!!). just would be a nice touch! ah well if they don’t show it I’ll just headcanon it

last but not least, it’s also worth noting that while I love how brave and selfless and concerned for his mentor’s wellbeing Tokoyami is here, this was still an incredibly stupid move on his part! least of all because he actually had no idea that Hawks truly was in danger. is it weird to say he lucked out? “you’re so fortunate your teacher actually was being burned alive you reckless little goose!” but like, you know what I mean though right

anyway

-- oh they are showing it!!

YAY HE IS A GOOD BOY. THAT IS ALL. CARRY ON

Toko’s shouting over his shoulder that Hawks is “probably” in trouble. for fuck’s

I mean yeah, it’s probably just some gut instinct which funnily enough happens to be absolutely right. but I’m sorry you guys, there’s just this small part of me that just can’t get over the fact that he briefly saw Hawks flying for all of .2 seconds, and saw some flames, and just IMMEDIATELY leapt to the worst-case-scenario conclusion. you know what this is? it’s the decision-making process of a kid who is actually WAY more powerful than we’ve been giving him credit for. enough so that his self-preservation instincts don’t even kick in at all because it doesn’t even occur to him how dangerous of a move this is. goddammit Tokoyami. you kids think you’re all grown up now and ffff just please be safe

and okay, I’ll give Fatgum some benefit of the doubt for just letting that happen because apparently this is literally the first and only time

seems he didn’t even think it was possible up until now. so that’s fair

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT FATGUM YOU ARE REDEEMED

THAT’S RIGHT!! YOU DON’T JUST UP AND LEAVE THE FATAXI WHENEVER YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT. FARE DODGERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW!!

so he’s immediately following after him, but is smart enough not to put the other kids in danger! good split-second decision-making there. certain other people in this chapter could take notes! and of course my one fear now though is that the other three children will not listen to him at all, but you know what, let’s deal with one thing at a time

hmmm

dammit Horikoshi, what...?? you really like to toe the lines of what is and isn’t problematic huh? literally if you wanted to go for a cool barbarian look all you had to do was stick with the same kind of costume scheme you had going in the second and fourth popularity polls. but no, you had to go and give him a fucking war bonnet. was that one guy back in the Hero Killer arc not enough. at least this is only a cover page, sigh

also I see that Tokoyami was asked to name his own feature chapter. I’m just happy that he’s happy

would you fucking look at this

first of all, why is Dabi suddenly twenty feet away from them. and second, would you just look at how ridiculously intact Hawks fucking is. Dabi really was microwaving him on the defrost setting only huh

so now everyone’s just looking at each other. sizin’ each other up and stuff

yeah no shit it’s bad. you rushed in thinking you could somehow handle a situation which had even the second strongest guy on the ropes. and handle it alone, no less. lord help me why are the bravest ones also always the most stupid

EEP

HIS WINGS??? also his fucking BACK jesus christ. meaning he’s completely immobile for now at best, and probably soon to be in critical condition and going into shock if he isn’t already. okay so maybe it wasn’t just the defrost setting, fuck. Hawkssss 8|

oh???????

holy shit. an opportunity to actually find out how much of a bastard Dabi actually is?? we of course know he had no problem whatsoever with kidnapping a kid back in the day. but would he go so far as to seriously fight and/or try to kill one? a kid who’s no older than your little brother?? oh gosh oh golly oh intrigue

I literally have not made up my mind on Dabi redemption one way or the other, just to be clear (he’s just been too mysterious up till now and I feel like I don’t know enough), so I am super curious to see how this plays out so I can finally form an opinion!

OH SNAP

SCORE ONE FOR “HE MAY BE AN A-HOLE, BUT HE’S NOT, AND I QUOTE, 100% A DICK”? MAYBE?? but on the other hand he’s definitely not just gonna let Hawks go either so ahhhh???

(ETA: so it seems we’ve arrived at a solid “mildly bastardish!” idk. it definitely seems to me like he’s trying not to murder this teenager for no good reason. ironically he’s in much the same position here that Hawks was less than a dozen chapters ago; facing against someone who’s just trying to protect his friend, and trying to talk him down at first, but then attacking once it’s clear that he’s not going to back off. ah well. still as morally gray as ever.)

ah I see, we’re gonna start by shattering his naive illusions!

(ETA: fucking christ, the scan is so dark I didn’t even notice Twice’s charred corpse just LYING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND the first time I read this. and now that I have noticed it, I would just like to say, sincerely, what the fuck.)

welp, there it is. finally the kids are getting properly involved in this arc, and AS EXPECTED, they are promptly being traumatized. oh Toko ;_;

Dabi this speech you’re making would feel more original if literal scores of tumblrs hadn’t spent the last two months exhaustively analyzing every single last possible angle of this debate lol. everyone has already made up their minds on the “is Hawks worth saving” controversy one way or the other but okay sure, go ahead and throw your hat into the ring too

lmao whaaaaaaat. “as a last resort, after his attempts to take him peacefully were thwarted, Hawks killed a man so as to prevent that man from killing countless others during our coup to take over the country because our boss wants to destroy everything. clearly, Hawks is the worst out of everyone else involved in this equation!” now that! is a take! lol

OH NO OH GOD

“PEW PEW PEW ENJOY THOSE FEELS” HORIKOSHI WHOOPS WHILE SHOOTING LASER GUN FINGERS AT ME, AND HEY, NOW

HEY, I SAID!!!

WHAT THE FUCK -- WHAT EVEN IS THE FUCKING SCREENPLAY FOR THIS THING?? “A BARELY-CONSCIOUS HAWKS MURMURS HIS STUDENT’S NAME WITH AN ACHINGLY WEARY LOOK OF SHAME AND REGRET! AS DABI LOOKS ON, TOKOYAMI GENTLY LIFTS HIS FALLEN MASTER AND WRAPS HIS CAPE AROUND HIS BACK, LOOKING OVERWHELMED, BUT DETERMINED. TOKOYAMI: I’M JUST... CONCERNED FOR MY TEACHER.” who the fuck wrote this shit and how much pleasure were they taking in ripping my heart out and violently slamming it against the wall

sob, and unfortunately Dabi doesn’t look particularly moved himself by any of this

DAMMIT DABI PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. GO AWAY AND HAVE YOUR REVENGE SOME OTHER DAY GODDAMMIT

DABI!!

Dabi I swear to god!! if you seriously try and burn my gothbird son I will...

DABI WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY. LEAVE THE KID ALONE

Tokoyami... sweetie...

IF ONLY YOU COULD JUST. fly back out?? the exact same way you came??? if only that was a thing you could do??? or can he not fly while he’s carrying another person, maybe? dammit I forget

wait what?? is he implying that Dabi isn’t seriously trying to kill them yet? is that what this is? I should just read on since this is clearly only the first part of something longer that he’s saying and I have to stop this bad habit of trying to analyze half a sentence before I go on and read the rest of the sentence

well whatever it is, he’s absolutely right; Dabi as it turns out is still standing there 25 feet away like a social distance champ, monologuing from afar

this panel gets more hilarious to me the longer I stare at it you guys. someone please make a comic where Hawks is all “he’s still talking...” and Toko looks to see Dabi RAMBLING ON and slowly inches further and further away while Dabi completely fails to take any notice lmao

so Tokoyami is just staring back, and then suddenly he’s all “orders from Hawks!” which I think is just him asking Hawks what to do now??

and fucking look at this lol

“just slowly inch away while he’s monologuing. I just found out he’s secretly a Todoroki so now I know his weakness: he will literally drop dead before he ever stops being dramatic”

OH MY GOD

ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS ISN’T A JOKE AND THAT’S HIS ACTUAL WEAKNESS LMAO. HAVE WE CROSSED PLANES INTO SOME KIND OF SATIRICAL REALITY. WHAT IS HAPPENING

LMAO OKAY NO HAWKS IS SAYING THAT DABI IS JUST BULLSHITTING THEM BECAUSE HE’S USED UP ALL HIS FLAMES OR SOME SHIT. LOL OKAY THEN. ALL I HEARD WAS “HE WASN’T ABLE TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE HE NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP.” WHERE IS THE LIE

OH SNAP THERE HE GOES

he is running away in the background, right?? Dark Shadow is just a distraction? you better not be seriously trying to fight him oh god please be smart about this

okay yes good!!

bringing back some unpleasant memories of the last guy who took a tumble off this balcony, but whatever! I’m sure he’s got some kind of plan in mind here

yep okay so he’s using Dark Shadow as a bungee cord

Hawks is so fucking short he somehow looks the same size as this little bird hobbit who’s carrying him. this is just a battle of tiny, tiny people

OH MY GOD FUCKING OUCH OH GEEZ

I FELT THAT OH MY GOD

AND OF FUCKING COURSE THAT KO’D HAWKS FOR GOOD, BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS A FUCKING BACK, AND HE JUST TARZANED OFF A BALCONY AND TOKOYAMI LANDED RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM JESUS CHRIST. R.I.P.

TOKO IS ALL “HE MUST HAVE BLACKED OUT FROM THE IMPACT JUST NOW” AND YEAH, YOU THINK?? WOULDN’T YOU?? FUCK

OH MY GOD HE’S PICKING HIM UP AND HE’S SO FUCKING TINY OH GOD OH JESUS

STOP BEING DRAMATIC AND JUST CARRY HIM OUT OF THERE ALREADY CAN WE GET A MOVE ON PLEASE? YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD BUDDY AND I’M SO PROUD, BUT ALSO THE REST OF THE LEAGUE IS STILL OUT THERE AND NOTHING IS SAFE AND AHHHH

-- AND ALSO THIS GUY STILL!!

no doubt. no doubt whatsoever the blood that runs through those veins. the theatrics are more of a dna marker than the flame quirk could ever be

also!! ARE WE SURE HAWKS IS ACTUALLY TWENTY-THREE?? COULDN’T THE HPSC HAVE FORGED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE?? THIS IS A BABY PROVE ME WRONG??

anyway so since Dabi is now saying “joke’s on you, I can still use my flames whenever the fuck I want,” I’m going to take this as confirmation that he really was keeping his distance just so he could utilize forced perspective. I’m going to make a post about this as soon as I’m done reading lol

HORIKOSHI WILL YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE ENDLESS CLOSE-UPS OF A FRIGHTENED TOKOYAMI CLINGING TO HIS UNCONSCIOUS MENTOR SCARED BUT READY TO PROTECT HIM WITH HIS LIFE I REALLY CAN’T???

DABI’S REALLY OUT HERE TRYING TO BURN THESE LITTLE BABY CHICKS ALIVE. WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING CHILL MY DUDE

OH MY GOD

SOME KIND OF CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED AHHHH WHO

AHHH MT. LADY?!

(ETA: ngl, I’m still not sure how I feel about this sequence of panels but I did laugh good and hard though.)

-- holy shit that was ice??! oh lord don’t tell me

yeppp, looks like it’s our old buddy Dairy Queen back at it again

look... Geten?? is it?? nothing against you personally. but I have a deep-seeded and enduring dislike of everyone from the Meta Liberation Army still and that includes you pal

that being said, did you inadvertently save Tokoyami’s life, though? I originally thought those were just ~anime shockwaves~ from some off-screen attack, but if that was all actually ice, it looks like you might have cut Dabi off. which I approve of! but also that’s some serious friendly fire you tomfool

so he’s yelling that he’s disrupted the heroes’ siege, which it looks like he has! very sloppily, but still

and also, way to have both of your fire users currently 80km away, hero team! you knew Geten was here, no?? who even planned this

now this Bleach-looking dude is sneaking up on Gang Orca with what looks to be a hole-punching quirk which is freaking me out a bit ngl

Gang please take him out with your famous yeet as soon as possible, I don’t know if I can handle a prolonged fight against this particular quirk

YES TOKO GET THE FUCK OUT!!!

there is no fucking way this kid is anywhere near his twenties incidentally I might add. none at all. we’ve been had

NO STOP FEELS

HE’S CRYING JESUS CHRIST HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HIS TEACHER IS HURT AND DYING MAYBE AND THE VILLAIN SAID HE KILLED SOMEONE AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, HE STILL WANTS TO PROTECT HIM AND HE’S JUST A BABY TOO?! IT’S TOO MUCH??

AND I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SURPRISED OR SHOCKED BY ANY OF THIS AT ALL?? LISTEN UP EVERYONE, YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND INSIDE OF THIS BAG IN THE FRIDGE WHICH WAS LABELED “CHILD SOLDIERS LIFE-OR-DEATH BATTLE ARC.” THE CONTENTS OF THIS BAG... MAY SHOCK YOU

lmao yeah but GUESS WHAT! I’M STILL GONNA GET ALL WORKED UP OVER IT AND I’M EVEN GONNA LIKE IT! but also. my babiesss

oh for fuck’s sake this guy still??

okay so I’ve already scrolled down enough to see the very top of the last page after this, and I’m pretty sure that’s Gigantomachia’s hair lol. please don’t tell me the radio is still on and he heard Tomura’s voice oh fiddlefucks

YEP

:’)

welp. strap yourselves in, chums. 19 chapters in, and this arc is only just beginning

#bnha 271 #tokoyami fumikage #dabi #hawks (bnha)#fatgum #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #god this took forever to edit #and it's still a mess #long story short TOKOYAMI AND HAWKS #PROTECT THEM

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lokidrabbles · 4 years

Text

Bitter-sweetness (Loki x Reader)

Loki comes to visit the reader after they send out a drunk text

A/N: Another part of my Loki x Reader Winter Series! This is also an AU after Ragnarok where the Asgardians have settled on Earth. As always, Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: Language, Alcohol Use, Angst, Implied smut

You considered yourself to be a responsible person to a certain degree. In fact, you prided in your ability to make rational decisions about your day to day adult musings. Yet here you were, alone in your home, a whole bottle of red wine downed, complete inhibited from making sure you didn’t make a terrible decision.

This was your first holiday away from home. Living in the big apple had its perk, especially since you managed to land a job working at Stark Industries but living alone, while your closest relative lived three states away was not as glamorous as the shows made it out to be. You swore you would be able to handle it, after all, this had been quite a successful year for you career wise. And yet, the horrible emptiness expanded the moment you finished speaking with your sibling over the phone.

Reality hit. You were here alone, and that was just scratching the surface of it all. You had gotten along well with your co-workers and the supers you would run into often but it wasn’t the same. There was no way you would budge and plea for them to spend this ‘merry’ time with you, humiliating. And so, while not the healthiest of coping skills, you drowned your depression away with a little lady known as Lambrusco.

Being a lightweight, the red wine quickly put you in an inebriated state, fixated on feeling sorry for yourself and the impeccable loneliness. You cried, you laughed, and you sang depressing melodies in effort to bring your spirits up, but to no avail. You eventually ended up surfing on social media through your phone, twisting your mouth at the cloy pictures of families and friends celebrating together in their homes. What a bunch of bullshit. You resisted the temptation to instant message your old friends, knowing it would just be filled with a myriad of cuss words.

Your mind then wandered on texting your co-workers, clinging onto a childish hope of maybe one of them coming to your rescue and joining you in drinks and sobs. You flipped through your contact list and came across your most recently added. It was a 5 digit number, but that wasn’t weird for you. Tony would often have these weirdly set up numbers for some of the team members to maintain contact without having calls traced by ill intending foes, and you ended up with some of them through exchanges and other occasions. You weren’t really sure how it worked, but it was kind of like a trading card game you had with your co-workers. Obtain Thor’s number, Caps’ number, Dr. Banner’s number, Romanov’s number. It was stupid but it passed the time.

You squinted your eyes, attempting to decipher which Avenger’s number this was. However with the room spinning and your happy-go-lucky state, you didn’t bother to figure out who it was, and you began to text the unknown number with the best of your ability.

Helloo,,,,this is (y/n) and....comeover I have fun stuff to do...:) :) :)

Perfect. And with much gusto, you tapped on that send button, throwing your phone casually on the side of your couch. It wasn’t like you really expected anyone to answer or to come over, and it wasn’t like you really cared at the moment. Without any hesitation, you reached for the wine bottled and took a last swig, with only drops remaining of the sweet warm nectar. You felt the relief in your throat and closed your eyes, slowly drifting into a quick nap, completely disheveled on your couch.

Not ten minutes would pass before you heard a loud and obnoxious pounding on your door. The loud rapping sent you flying off your couch and in a frenzy. You cleared your throat and scurried over to your front door.

“I’m going, I’m going!” You yelled, not having a moment to sort out what was actually happening. But the room continued to spin, and you figured you were still heavily drunk.

You undid your locks and open the door wide open, only to be greeted by the cold winter wind and the last person you had expected at the moment.

“What in the seven realms are you trying to prove here?” It was Loki, standing tall and menacing over you. He held a small cellular phone between his thumb and index finger, showing you the drunk text you had sent him.

It was Loki’s number. You had completely forgotten that your coworker had given you the number after laughing about Tony giving Loki a method of communication and how Loki was entirely clueless on how to use the device or what it’s purpose even was. Your coworker had a know in with the security manager who programmed Loki’s phone and got his contact number through suggestive means. Again, part of the stupid little game, and you had mindlessly added the number onto your contacts.

Fuck. You guessed he had figured out how to use it.

“Ah, shit.” You sputtered casually. “I didn’t think anyone would have come!”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you incredulously. “You’re wobbling.”

Wobbling. Loki’s accent was distracting enough most of the time. But hearing him say a silly world like wobbling sent you in a laughing spree. It was uncontrollable laughter, where the more you stared at him the funnier it would become. It was apparent that Loki didn’t find this funny in the slightest.

“Wobbling, pfft. Woooosh.” You retorted, making fluttering movements with your fingers.

“Wait.” He began, his mind beginning to calculate and process. And finally it hit him. “You’re drunk. Are you foolish or just this stupid?”

“Both maybe.”

Loki groaned, shoving you inside your living room and closing the door behind him. Immediately he began to smell the heavy scent of alcohol coming from you, as well as quickly taking notice of the empty wine bottle and wine juices leaked on your coffee table. Also you wouldn’t stop laughing, continuing to giggle until you fell backwards onto you couch.

Loki narrowed his eyes at you. “Having a good time here? I see you’ve laid waste to that wine bottle.”

“Oh yeah.” You responded proudly, throwing your arms up in the air. “Nothing else to do here, but to see just how much I can drink till I stop making sense. Which is...now!”

“Really now?” He responded sardonically. “You look like an absolute mess.”

“Screw you.” You dejected at him knowing full well that wouldn’t offend him in the slightest. “Why are you even here if you’re just gonna be like this.”

“Would you rather I leave then?” His arms were crossed over his chest now, long legs and feet firmly planted on the ground. He looked very intimidating, but perhaps because of your state, he also looked extremely masculine and handsome. You never noticed how broad his shoulders actually were, or how defined his jawline was. You imagined being held in those strong arms and hummed pleasantly.

“No, I like you being here.” You said in a sing song manner, swinging your head back and forth.

“Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking for you? I wouldn’t imagine you meant to send that message directly to me.”

Loki took a seat across from you on the couch, continuing to shoot you looks of improvement, but concern as well. You continued to fixate on his looks despite this, suddenly wanting to see how his skin would feel on your hands.

“It wasn’t really meant for anyone. But I actually feel a lot better knowing it was you.” Even through your mashed up words, this was actually true. If it was Tony or a coworker or, lord forbid, anyone of the Avengers receiving this and coming over to lecture you about your substance use, your humiliation would have no bounds. There was still a sense of a professional relationship to maintain with them and if those boundaries were broken, maybe that would mean your job as well.

However, the moment you saw Loki standing at your door, you worry had instantly vanished. It was funny, but Loki was the only person who you could be yourself with. There wasn’t any authoritative nature to him, and you felt you didn’t need to prove anything while he was in your vicinity. He was just as lost as you were during this year in dealing with Stark Industries and the team. Also you both had bonded a bit with having a natural disdain for large crowds and ‘stupid’ people in general. You weren’t proud to be shit talking about others, but it made some work days bearable for you.

“Perhaps this is the moment where I as why you’ve drunk an entire bottle of red wine on your own. Even I can tell your natural tolerance isn’t very good.” Loki said, motioning for you to begin describing whatever had tormented you for this evening.

You sputtered again. “It’s stupid. I didn’t even mean to drink the whole thing. It just happened. Stupid bottle.” You really didn’t want to talk about, fearing how much control you would lose. You couldn’t put Loki in an awkward position, with you bawling over the fact that you miss your family or that you feel completely alone in such a large city. You knew Loki’s situation, you knew how much conflict he had experienced during the past year, what with settling down on Earth after Asgard was destroyed. Your human woes paled in comparison to what both him and Thor had encountered, why minimize that?

“Are you not comfortable with discussing this with me?” He asked, his voice firm. There was no malice in it but some sense of ease.

You shook your head. “I am sooo comfortable with you. I’m just not really comfortable with myself.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that.” He continued, but you remained quiet mostly because you began to feel sick. “But I do know, even in Asgard, we drank for both our victories and for our losses.”

You pondered on this for a bit and then sniggered. “I suppose a loss for myself. Because lord knows no one wants to be around me.” Here we go. You were beginning to be dramatic once more, drowning in your melancholy. “But noooo I have a lot of friends and people who like me right? Because that’s what everyone expects right? For me to be content with everything?”

Loki remained quiet but not for a loss at words, but simply because he knew listening would be the best way to tackle this situation. His body language changed and he turned his body to face you, full attention and focus. But of course, you were far too deep in your downward spiral to have noticed.

“I’m supposed to be this independent, responsible adult who knows what they want or want to do.” You continued, your voice beginning to break. “But I still feel lost. And stupid. And wobbly.” You sniggered again, not being able to hold back to stupidity of the word.

Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why humans always enjoy over complicating their own personal matters when the solution is staring them right at the face.”

You stopped giggling and furrowed your brows. “How am I over complicating things? I feel like shit because it’s been a whole year of me living in this city and I haven’t made one single valuable connection with anyone. Don’t be telling me that is an easy thing to solve.”

It was as if you had completely forgotten you were still tipsy.

“You do realize you could have just contacted me.” His words seemed to have echoed across your living room, sending a strong pang of guilt into your chest.

“What are you talking about?” You words meshed with one another, unable to articulate your frustration.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “I really do have to hold your hand for everything don’t I? As long as I am here in this forsaken city working for that piece of human garbage that is Stark, you don’t have to spend your evenings alone.”

You blink in total bewilderment, not really buying into his intentions or his words. “Don’t do that. Don’t just do that because you feel sorry for my pathetic ass.”

“Are you daft?” Loki responded with an elevated voice. “What indication of pity have I presented for you? What you need to realize is you have absolutely no reason to have this display of misery if companionship is what you seek.”

Your eyes widened as your focused in on the details of his face. Even though he had become quite angered by your stubbornness, he continued to be beautiful and ridiculously attractive to you. A strand of his dark locks fell over his face, making him even more desirable than you could have imagined. His piercing blue-green eyes were just as captivating as the last time you saw them. What would you have sacrificed for the opportunity to absolutely melt into him? To take in his scent or his heat. Maybe to even dig your face into the crook of his neck, providing you with much security.

Evidently your body began to move on its own as you leaned forwards to him, plopping yourself ungainly between his arms and his chest. Loki instinctively pulled backwards only causing you to fall further onto him until you were completely laid down upon his chest. He kept his arms slightly above you, unsure whether you’d be fine with him placing them on your back or on your waist. You sighed contently, nuzzling your face and fists into his chest. He was very warm, and you could hear the thumping of a heart deep within him.

“This...is not the best position to be in.” He said, a minute after laying there awkwardly with you.

“Heeey Loki.” You began, some mischief in your tone. “Let’s do it.”

You swore you heard him gulp heavily. “No. Especially with your inebriated state.”

You chuckled, your best attempt at being sly. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about you at first. I guess it didn’t cross my mind that you’d want to do anything with me.”

You finally felt his hands gently rest on your back, fully trusting of your total comfort with him.

“I’m going to reveal something to you but I don’t want you to tell anyone else. This is solely for your ears.” He began, piquing at you interest.

You plopped your head upwards to have a better look at him. “Oh?”

“I don’t come to New York solely for Stark. In fact, he’s become quite disdainful of me as you know. I go out of my way to come here because of you.”

An uncontrollable smile formed over your face. But again, that could have been the alcohol.

“You’re a foolish human. But...you are my foolish human. And you don’t need to be alone as long as I am here. I know how much this time of the year means for you, and I wouldn’t want to see you like this again.”

Before he could continue, you lifted your upper body to plant a much desired kiss on Loki’s lips. You didn’t care if you still reeked of cheap wine or if it was an impulse of your needs, but you deeply desired to still feel him skin on yours. You became even more eager once you felt him return your kiss, aggressively and longingly. His lips were so soft and tasteful and you pleaded mentally for him to explore your tongue with his. You pulled back briefly, your eyes watery and full of drunken bliss.

“I love you so much.” You said without much thought or meaning. You knew you didn’t fully convey those emotions yet, but the timing felt right.

He stared at you with his mouth slightly agape, his eyes also full of bliss and desire. “Don’t say that just yet. But I do too.”

The remainder of the evening was spent quietly as Loki adjusted himself to a much more comfortable position where he could fully encircle his arms around your frame. You melted into him, greedily closing your eyes and drifting away into a peaceful slumber inside his hold. You continued to be lulled by the thumping on his chest, your own matching his in full connection.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x (y/n)#loki #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki imagines #loki fanfiction #loki drabble #loki drabbles #Loki Laufeyson #loki friggason #loki (mcu)

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stufftippywrote · 4 years

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not my type, chapter 5

Read it from the beginning--

"First off," Shitty says, holding Jack by the shoulders, "you're not killing anybody."

"What was he thinking?" Jack hates this feeling, hates when the shakes seem to be reverberating through his blood. It's like every cell in his body is wobbly, like he won't be able to hold himself together. "How can he make all that up?"

Lardo's over at the computer, frowning as she reads the story through. "Actually," she says, "he did kind of a good job."

"What?" Jack takes in a gulp of breath, exhales it out in a whoosh.

"He did okay," Lardo says, turning. "Not too many details, but enough of a story to keep 'em interested. Easy for you to memorize," she adds, meeting Jack's gaze.

"Calm down, brah." Shitty's still got a hand on Jack's shirt. "It's all gonna be okay."

Jack lets them lead him to the sofa and sit him down, but he's still quavering. "He didn't have to say anything," he says. "He didn't have to go to the press."

"Sounds like the press came to him."

"And he couldn't say 'no comment'?" Jack drops his head into his hands. How could they have screwed this up so completely? How could Lardo think this guy was the perfect fake date? He went way overboard from the beginnning, with that stupid kiss hello. Jack should have walked right out. He should have never agreed in the first place. "So stupid," he mutters.

"Look, Jack, blame us if you have to," Shitty says. "We didn't think this cunning plan through. We should have realized it wouldn't be over and done in a single night."

"And I should have realized Bitty would talk," Lardo says. "You met him, you know how he is."

"I've never met him myself," Shitty says, "but yeah, bro, I hear he's that type. We shoulda known."

Jack can't stand to hear his friends blaming themselves. The desire to comfort them breaks through the web of anxiety, and he finds a bit of sanity to cling to. "Right," he says, "okay. Doesn't matter whose fault. What are we going to do now?"

"Well, for one, we should probably talk to him." Lardo has her phone out already.

"And by 'we,' we mean you," Shitty says, slapping a hand on Jack's back.

This very nearly brings the panic back. "W-what should I say? Wait..."

But Lardo's already entered the phone number. When it starts to ring, she thrusts the phone in Jack's direction.

"Lardo, Shits, come on--"

"Hello?" A soft high tenor voice comes from the phone's speaker. "Hello? Is someone there?"

Lardo gives him a look that might as well be a dagger. Jack takes the phone tentatively in one hand.

"Um," he manages, "yes, hello. Eric?"

"Who is this?" Hearing Bitty's voice near his ear stirs something in Jack, a strange vibrating in his chest.

"This is Jack Zimmermann."

Silence on the line.

Jack tries again. "Hello?"

"I... yes, sorry, I'm just surprised." Bitty's tone becomes cheery. "Mr. Zimmermann. What can I do for you?"

What can he do? Jack's flying blind. He's been shanghaied into this conversation. "I saw you talked to some reporters."

A gasp on the line. "Did I actually end up... in the news?"

Sounds like he's as horrified as Jack was. But what did he expect? "Yes."

Bitty gives an audible sigh. "Oh, lord. Well, of course you'd want to ask me about it. I really did my best to not tell them anything. I'm just not so great at keeping my mouth shut, especially not when they're customers in my shop. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you..."

Bitty is still going on, and Jack is still searching for the next words, when Shitty stage-whispers at him, "Invite him over!"

Jack answers him silently with wild, panicked eyes.

"What? You need to talk in person."

It's not Jack's apartment, but he abruptly has a better idea. "Eric," he says, "is your shop still open?"

---

The three of them take the short walk a few blocks down to Bittle's Bakeshop, and although it's evening, the lights are still on inside. When they come in, there's only one table occupied, a couple of kids that look college-age to Jack. Bitty is there, behind the counter, and Jack's heartbeat goes unsteady and weak for a second. He's not sure whether he's infuriated or delighted to see him again.

At the sight of Larissa, Bitty comes out from behind the counter and gives her a hug. Then he turns to Jack to give him a nod and a smile. "Mr. Zimmermann."

Jack looks him over. He's wearing a baker's apron, but it hasn't protected him very well from what looks like it must have been a hurricane of flour. It's smeared all over his shirt, and there's a light dusting over his face as well. Jack's thumb itches to pass over his cheek, just to clean him up.

But along with the flour, there are the bright brown eyes and careless smile Jack remembers, and for just a moment he's back at that gala, dancing with him, wondering idly what it would be like to reach out and touch him. His thumb itches even more. Jack curls his hand into a fist.

"So you know Jack," Lardo is saying, "and this is my boyfriend, Shitty."

Bitty blinks. "I'm sorry. Your boyfriend what now?"

"It's a long story," Shitty says.

A few minutes later, they're all congregated at a round table toward the back of the shop. Bitty has provided everyone with decaf, and once he's finished passing out pastries ("sorry, they are leftovers from today, I would of COURSE have baked some fresh if I knew y'all were coming"), Shitty stands up and raises his mug of coffee. "So! Friends, acquaintances, unfairly good-looking NHL players. We are gathered here today to figure out what we should do about Jack and Bitty's predicament in re: the press. Now that we know that the vultures won't leave these two poor gentlemen alone, we should think of solutions for how to handle the situation."

"You could stage a messy breakup," Lardo says, picking at the strawberry atop her tart. "Big public fight."

The thought makes Jack recoil. He and Bitty say "No" at the same moment, then turn to look at each other.

"It's just," Bitty hastens to explain, "I don't think I'm as good an actor as all that? I'm plenty good at pretending to be close to people, but I don't think I could play mean or angry."

"An unobtrusive breakup, then," Shitty suggests. "When the press comes after you, you just say you're not dating anymore, and when people ask why you just say GIMME PRIVACY YOU FUCKING VULTURES." He pounds the table as he says it, and Jack wonders if this is really decaf they're drinking.

"Will that work, though?" Lardo wonders. "I mean, Bitty's just given this interview where he sounds head over heels."

Bitty clears his throat. "Um... we could also keep pretending."

Jack's gaze flies to him. Why would Bitty suggest that? Isn't he the one who wanted out of this after a night?

"I mean. Just to keep everyone satisfied." For the first time since Jack's met him, Bitty looks a little shy. "Just for a while. Then have a fake breakup."

"How long is a while?" Jack's voice comes out hoarse.

"Until the press loses interest," Shitty fills in. "Problem is, that could last a week, it could be months. They could still be on your doorstep next season asking what you did together over the summer."

Bitty visibly shudders. "I don't know if I can keep pretending for a year."

"Then let's make it a week," Jack says. He turns to Bitty. "If you're willing to do a week. I can get someone from PR on our team in on it, and they can probably help with the details." He pauses. "What do you think?"

He's not sure what kind of answer he wants, what kind he's afraid of. And for a moment Bitty keeps him guessing, surveying him like he's sizing up an opponent before a fight. Finally, he nods. "I suppose that wouldn't be too much trouble, if it's only for a week. What would we have to do?"

"Go on dates," Lardo says.

"Be seen going on dates," Shitty clarifies. "Doesn't matter if you actually go on them."

Jack addresses Shitty and Lardo. "He should probably come to a practice, and then if he doesn't mind meeting the other -- the wives -- he should come to a game."

"Good opportunities for the cameras to catch him," Shitty notes, drumming his fingers on the table. "And you all don't actually have to spend any time together if you don't want to."

"I don't mind." The words tumble out of Jack in a rush, and he blinks, as surprised to hear them as anybody. Bitty is staring at him, those brown eyes wide, and Jack feels a flush creeping up his cheeks as he turns to face him. "I mean. If you don't mind."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shitty and Lardo exchange a look, but he doesn't pay much attention to it.

Bitty seems to have lost his everpresent words. He blinks right back up at Jack, mouth open. God, his eyes are just so wide, like Jack could dive right into them. Is it possible that for just a moment he's considering -- but no, he knows Bitty isn't attracted to him. He'd just be building false hope, thinking of something like this. All he needs is for Bitty to tolerate him. That's as much as he can reasonably ask for.

Shitty quickly rushes in to fill in the silence. "It probably is a smart idea to actually be seen together. Even if it means going on some dates."

Lardo coughs. "Fake dates."

"Right. Fake dates." Shitty reaches across the table and slaps Jack on the shoulder. "There ya go. Just be seen together a couple of times this week and then say adieu. When the press asks what happens, you just say it didn't work out. The end, finito, take a bow."

Bitty finds his voice, as well as a disarming smile. "Well, now," he says, "that's no trouble at all. We can survive a few evenings together without killing each other, right?" He winks at Jack, a movement that makes Jack's heartbeat skip. "I'll just take a couple of days off from the bakery, let Ransom and Holster take care of the place. I've been meaning to take a little break for a while now! Been working day and night between this and the catering." He rolls his shoulders back. "Gosh, this could actually be fun. I've always meant to go to a hockey game!"

Jack finds himself smiling, too. It's hard not to when Bitty's going on like he is. There's something contagious about his cheer, and even Shitty and Lardo seem affected by it. They're both smiling as well.

"I'll talk to Georgia -- that's the PR person from the team -- and we'll make a schedule," Jack says. "And if you need any pocket money for when you're not working, I can take care of that."

"As if!" Bitty turns up his nose. "I may be your escort for the week, but I am not an escort for hire, Mr. Zimmermann."

"You can call me Jack." Again, Jack is surprised to hear his own words.

But Bitty just smiles again. "Well, of course," he says, crossing his arms over his chest like he's in a huff. "We're dating, after all."

Lardo makes a small sound that sounds almost like a squeak. Jack and Bitty both turn to her. "Sorry," she says, covering her mouth.

They finish their coffee and treats, and Bitty walks the three of them to the door. "Well, I suppose you'll be in touch?" he asks, and Jack nods. "I feel like we ought to shake hands on it. Looking forward to working with you, Jack." Bitty holds out a hand.

"I appreciate your doing this," Jack answers. He takes Bitty's hand to shake.

Oh no. That hand in his feels far too perfect. One more time, Jack's taken back to their dancing at the gala. Bitty's hands felt good then too, on his waist and in his palm, and Jack finds himself mourning that they won't be able to end tonight with a kiss as well. Even a fake kiss.

His heart sinks. He actually likes this boy. Wants him, even. And now he'll have to spend a week with him, all the while pretending he cares (for the camera) and also pretending he doesn't.

He also can't wait to get started.

Shit. This could be the most miserable week of his life.

#zimbits #zimbits fic #not my type #fake dating #fake dating au #who likes some pining? i do!#check please #check please fic #omgcp #omgcp fic #stuff tippy wrote

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