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#on the bright side I did find the archives where they kept all the old yearbooks and stuff
allgremlinart · 2 years
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Being a comic book reader is so humiliating like I am. So dumb. Context:
Last year I started my first year of college and for some reason I thought that our enormous campus library would, you know, be like a normal library and have all kinds of books including comics/graphic novels. Fun fact: campus libraries are for like. Research papers. They do not have graphic novels. They barely have any non-annotated novels. Its all research shit, essays, and math.
I spent like 2 hours searching through all 7 floors of our library looking for the comic book section that didnt exist. Raw, powerful humiliation.
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l-sincline · 1 year
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Reluctant Hero - Cybernetics Side Story
Before his arm was broken, before there was the mechanic, there was wandering. Wandering leaves a lot of time to think, to remember. Wandering also means you end up in situations you aren't used to. Wandering means you eventually have to face yourself.
Why did he care?
AO3 tags: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandoms:Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types Sonic the Hedgehog (IDW Comics) Character:Shadow the Hedgehog Additional Tags:Alternate Universe Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk Mobius (Sonic the Hedgehog) Prequel Side Story
AO3 Link
Cybernetics Master List 
It was raining. 
Shadow’s hood grew heavier and heavier on his head as it soaked up water. Synthetic cotton was the cheapest, easiest to come by material in this world- but much like its sister fabrics, it soaked up water fast. He’d be hard pressed to find a polyester cloak, a jacket would restrict his movement too much for his liking. 
He could feel his ears fold uncomfortably and press into the top of his head with the pressure, but didn’t dare to reach up and remove his hood as he melted through the crowd unseen. Surveillance was everywhere- a second of his face was all they needed. 
Metal shoes splashed dirty water back up his legs, scraping just slightly against the wet pavement. Looking off to the side of the road, he could see Mobians curled up under awnings, pressing close to each other so they could all fit under the small dry spots, shaking their heads when another crept up to try and fit in. 
He kept walking past.
Several ducked into stores, removing the old tattered newspapers from over their heads as soon as they got into the bright light of the store- the faint sound of promising to buy something in exchange for shelter from the downpour. Some went in and exited with umbrellas, others picked up a snack and stared out the front display windows, eating as they waited. 
He kept walking past. 
A small Mobian pushed past him and he stumbled, not even sparing an apology, as she dashed forward, holding hands over her head. She zipped through the crowd before veering hard right and slipping into an alleyway. 
He stopped. 
The crowd continued moving past him, simply side stepping around as if he was an immovable object. Through the mass of Mobians and umbrellas his cybernetic eyes zoomed in on the alleyway, looking for the child that had pushed past him. He couldn’t see her with just his normal vision; using his cybernetic eye, his infrared flashed to life. She stood out easily now from her place behind the dumpster, bright orange and yellow compared to her blue and purple surroundings. The infrared shut off, and he began pushing sideways through the crowd. 
“Sorry.” He muttered continuously as he pushed his way through the crowd and ended up on the sidewalk. The Mobians to his immediate left watched wearily as he walked forward, clearly hoping he wasn’t going to demand space in their dryspot huddle. Of course, he didn’t. His main objective now was the alleyway. 
Walking into the alleyway Shadow was struck with how much quieter it was. The walls of the buildings on either side muffled the noise of the crowded street, which made the pattering of the rain louder. 
When he reached the other side of the dumpster and turned, there she was. He looked down on her from above- a light blonde, young dog Mobian. Perhaps a golden retriever of sorts. She looked up at him from her place, sat on the ground, knees hugged to her chest. The lip of the dumpster barely shielded her at all, but there was cardboard and newspaper strewn about the pavement, so he could only imagine that this was where she normally resided. Shadow realized he’d just stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time when it registered that she looked scared. 
“I’m real sorry, mister…” her voice was soft, “I haven’t got anything to give you. I’m sorry for bumping into you. It won’t happen again.” Her hands gripped her legs a little tighter. 
He exhaled out his nose and looked back to the street for a moment awkwardly before turning back to her. 
“Aren’t you supposed to have a box or something? Makeshift roof?” 
She looked shocked, “It uh, it blew away when the storm kicked up.”
He squinted.
“This is new to you, isn’t it?” 
She looked nervous to answer, but her grip on her legs had subsided. Now she fidgeted quietly with her hands, looking to the ground and away before back to him. At least they were both awkward, he thought. 
“Yeah.” She shook her head slightly as a large droplet smacked the top of it, “Mama went missin’ a few days ago. I dunno where she went, but I didn’t have a key back into the apartment.” 
Missing? Of course, things like that weren’t uncommon out here, but as he looked back out to the street again to think, Shadow was only struck by one thing;
Why did he care?
He’d been working on his own for a long time. He was always justifying a means to an end. Though he detested their world’s current situation and rule, many of his more ‘heroic’ crusades- if you could even call them that- were at the demands of the resistance. They had a mutually beneficial relationship, they helped him get information on chip sightings, he lent his power a few times a month when they asked for it. They weren’t asking him to help this young Mobian- so why should he? 
Perhaps a part of her situation reminded him of himself. Shadow had been alone with no solid home for awhile when he’d first entered Mobius. He remembered alleyways covered in cardboard boxes well. Rainy nights where all the water finally soaked through his makeshift roof and the wind blew away all his paper. Hot days where the sun made his metal arms hot enough to scorch the skin they were connected to, living off of scraps he could find recently dropped- or maybe the occasional kind stranger that gave you half of their lunch. 
Maybe there was another part of him that was reminded of Maria. The blonde fur and big eyes, innocent stature that had already been exposed to far too many evils that the world had to offer. He wanted to fix these things, make them better. Children should get to be children, no? 
“What is your name?” Shadow asked. 
“Bella.” The child responded. 
“Bella.” He responded, “Where did you notice your Mom went missing?” 
“Um,” She started, brows furrowing, “A few days ago I was walking with Mama- it was sunny out- and I let go of her hand to run over and go look in the window of the toy store. I saw something cool, and I turned to show Mama, but she was gone.” 
“Did you look for her?” 
“I did.” She nodded aggressively, “I ran up and down the street yelling for her and she was nowhere. I slept outside our apartment door the first night and waited for her to come back. When she didn't, the landlord kicked me out for sol… sull…”
“Soliciting?” 
“Yeah.”
Shadow scoffed. “I highly doubt you were soliciting.” He mumbled before moving on, “Where was the toy store?” 
“Two blocks up that way.” She pointed behind him.
 He made a final contemplation before speaking to her once more. 
“Don’t go anywhere under any circumstances, if someone tries to move you, scream and I’ll come for you.”
“What if you don’t hear me?” She asked worriedly. 
“Trust me,” He sighed, “I’ll hear you.” 
Bella nodded, somewhat resigned. He could see the words forming on her lips, asking to come with him, but before she could plead, he walked off. He had patience, but not enough to deal with a kid coming with him to interrogate Mobians. Not to mention the potential of finding bad news. 
This sort of thing wasn’t his forte. He wasn’t a hero or a savior of any sort, but he was alive. He felt the same empathy he imagined any other creature would. He would make this world give her a good ending, whether it intended to or not. 
So, he walked back out into the rain. He would check with the toy store first to see if they saw anything, and then he would go from there and see their security footage, where he would then see Bella’s mother be kidnapped off the streets. He would follow what he could see from the security footage to a back alley, when checking the walls with infrared he would find a whole collection of missing Mobians young and old. He would free them and reunite Bella with her mother. That was the good ending, at least. So long as bodies on the infrared ran hot instead of cold. But in this moment Shadow chose to be optimistic. Not for himself, but for the young Mobian sitting in the alleyway without even a cardboard box to cover her head. She didn’t deserve any more punches, he knew that as soon as he started talking to her. 
When the day was over, the rain would clear. The clouds would stay, seeming to never go away in this city, but warmth would filter through and dry roads and clothes as the sun set. As the night fell, Shadow would wander some more- never really tired enough to go home and sit in bed- until he felt he had seen all he had needed to see. Then, and only then, would he go home.
It rained the next day as well. 
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trashbinbackyard · 3 months
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6 - The lovers
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The Chained inn was the best place amidst the hustle and bustle of the bazaar to find privacy and sunlight. The fact that they also served fresh coffee and lokma was a bonus, but she wasn’t here to appreciate the locale or the offerings. She was waiting for someone, someone she hasn’t seen face to face in a decade.
Their dealings often led them away from each other, it wasn’t that sparsely they were separated for months at a time. But a decade… Time flew by so fast, sometimes it felt like the world around her moved at a faster pace than her, which must've been a side effect of her lived age. 
She hadn’t changed much, the white in her hair claims more space on her head, old pains flare up every now and then, she’s still the same image of a woman she was ten years ago. She had set up a house in Nia Vasileos, and continued her research with the help of two very esteemed institutions, or rather their archives, where she technically wasn’t allowed to go in, but no one needed to know.
She had gathered enough material to fill a journal with runes, excerpts and archaic texts in languages from before the rupture. She had been studying it all morning in preparation.
He should be here soon, she had left him ample clues and a time where to find her, he enjoyed the challenge, to keep that old brain of his working, and the prepare him for the task at hand. They’d need to search every nook and cranny of the city for whatever their patrons are looking for, and as cryptic as they always tend to be, they had little to go off on.
A familiar sense tingled in her brain, a touch of psionic energy she knew well.
"I missed you." His voice echoed in her head, he was near already if he could make the connection.
She lifted her eyes from her journal and scanned the room vigilantly. It was her turn to play. Now where was he…
He was stupidly good at hiding in plain sight, but luckily for her she had a knack for picking up on traces of magic. Their wedding bands were enchanted, and if he wished to sleep on the bed tonight he should be wearing it. 
Hints of magic floated in the inn, nothing yet quite as bright as she knew the ring would be. But then… His magic’s signature bright orange light shining through a black glove, on a hand holding a branch of amaranth. 
He had established a mind link announcing his presence, so she could reply back.
“I see you, you scoundrel. I’ve missed you too.” She thought warmly, turning her gaze back to her journal to find the right page. 
 His shadow crept on the table as he sat down beside her. He set the branch of amaranth on her tea plate and placed his hand on top of hers.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. He smelled like oranges and cedarwood, just like she remembered.
“You’ve kept yourself busy,” there’s a hint of amusement in his voice
She merely hummed in response, suddenly oh-so-tired. She wanted to stay like this longer, her cheek on his soft wool coat, taking in him and the touch of his hand on hers. But they will have plenty of time to catch up later. Some matters she’s found were quite urgent and why she did call on him to join her here.
“There’s something over this city, I can feel the pull on the weave, something is here that is not supposed to,” she nodded towards the filled spread, a web of runes, names, titles, “I can’t make sense of this city, maybe you’ll be able to. And if you’ve missed high society… now's your chance to make use of that silver tongue of yours”.
“Aw, you need me to talk to people for you?”
She was never the social one, the ten years she spent mostly on her own, with only brief acquaintances to map  out her surroundings. She knew he would slip into the city’s hidden inner circles with ease.
“That. And to accompany me to an obelisk, there’s something carved on it that has made me bang my head against the stone for a while now. I'm sure it’ll lead somewhere, I need your fresh set of eyes.”
“What is this? Archmage Harrow unable to decipher a glyph? My, the world really did end.”
“You know what, to this day I think,I would not have considered partnering up with you in a past life, or if the circumstances didn’t force us, you’re insufferable”, she snapped and then paused, “Sometimes” she lifted her hand to pat him on the cheek, and scratched his stubble that he for sure groomed before coming here.
“Isn’t fate and chance funny like that”, he turns his head to look at her, “it’s a good thing we grew on each other yeah? Couldn’t think of a better person to be trapped with.”
She shot him a glaring side-eye, they’ve been through this already and by now she knows he’s merely joking.
“Aaand, couldn’t think of a better person to bless me with her arcane gifts…” he draws his sentence out.
She turned her head towards him and raised an eyebrow, challenging him to finish his thought. 
“...that will keep be unharmed and—”
“The obelisk,” she interrupted him and flipped her journal shut, sandwiching his fingers between the covers.
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jadedpen · 3 years
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Welcomed with open arms
Sibling!Half phantom!GN!Reader x Sbi family (+ Tubbo)
Summary: You are stuck in the cold snow as a small toddler in a basket. As the snowstorm roared, Phantoms circle around you, letting out wails of woe and sorrow. Suddenly, you hear the flapping of big feathery wings and see the Phantoms fly away. You then see a mysterious man with a white and green striped hat and welcoming blue eyes.
For context: Wilbur and Techno are twins, the reader is the youngest of the family with Tubbo being 1 year older than Tommy. The twins are 11 years old, Tommy is 4 and Tubbo is 5.
TW: There is a small part in the beginning where the reader almost dies from hypothermia, so be mindful of that, please!
Also, don’t worry, this work will have multiple chapters, so stay tuned!
Sorry if this is kinda bad. This is my first time writing a reader fanfic.
Ao3 link here
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The bitter cold touched your skin as your breath came out slow and steady. Your fingertips glowed blue and your thin wings weren’t much help to warm you up. The basket you were placed in by your unknown parents barely kept you alive all these hours, the thin blanket wrapped around you.
Phantoms circled you, seeing you as one of their own. You could sense the distraught and worry in their cries and their wails. As they swooped down, they tried to pick up the basket that carried you, but to no avail. Your tiny toddler hands tried to reach out to them, wanting nothing more but to be carried somewhere where you won’t freeze in the storm. You let out small wails and cries, those very much akin to a Phantom, until you heard a caw.
One caw became ten, and suddenly there was a whole murder of them, so many that the amount started to block the storm. Some even tried to attack the phantoms, but they wouldn’t leave you alone. They’d rather die than let the crows have their way with you.
But, there came a large beating of wings. Ones way more than the huge murder swirling around you. As the beating wings died down, you could hear the thumps of footsteps coming towards you, and feel something or someone pick you up. The hands were the warmest thing you’ve ever felt, and your eyes met the mysterious person’s bright welcoming blue. The eyes could convey so much; uneasiness, pity, curiosity.
They wore a large hat, one that was green and white striped. Medium blond hair came out of the sides with a small braid in the front and little knickknacks hanging from the strange hat. Huge black wings stood behind them, making them seem larger than the storm from your view. Even though your vision was impaired from the cold, you could see a small bit of what they was wearing aside from their head; a green opened kimono with a black turtleneck and a strange red heart in the middle.
The person looked up at the phantoms, not noticing that their wails were of worry. They pulled out a bow and a sharp arrow, aiming it at the phantoms. You could tell that the person meant harm, and so you wailed at them to make them stop. The person looked at you, and then the phantoms. They finally noticed the roars of the Phantoms were wails and cries, meaning only woe. The person seemed to call to the crows, and the crows obeyed. Birds swooped down to the ground where you and the person were set, no longer focusing on the Phantoms.
The snowstorm got worse, cold even colder. It became harder and harder to breathe or keep your eyelids open. Eyes barely open, you could see the person holding you have panic in their eyes, looking up ahead and wings wide open. Your tiny hands clutched the cloth on their chest, trying to find even the slightest bit of warmth you could feel as the person held you and carried the basket in hand.
You felt the person run, and then take flight. Wind blew on your head as your eyes closed all the way, hearing the caws of crows seem to follow this mysterious person.
A few minutes later, you hear the storm dying down, becoming only a midnight breeze. The person carrying you descended down to the ground, walking towards something warm. Despite the storm now over, you couldn’t open your eyes, seeming to be iced shut.
A huge wave of warmth filled the air as the person opened the door to what you assumed to be their house. You heard childlike voices, 3 to be exact. You weren’t able to understand them, but you were happy to know that you weren’t the only person anymore.
“Who’s that?” A small voice said; you could feel their beady eyes staring at you. ”It’s a baby. I found them freezing in the cold. I’m happy I saved them; any longer and they might’ve been left to die. Poor thing.” The deeper voice came from above you, seeming to come from the person who saved you. The person then sat on something soft and held you in their lap.
“Are you seriously considering adopting another sibling? We already have to deal with Tommy-” “HEY!” Two voices argued, one being slightly deeper and older but still young, and the other being loud and boisterous, being the same small voice you first heard.
“Both of you shut up. Who cares if we have another sibling, this ones adorable.” A separate voice spoke up, setting a warm hand on your tiny toddler one. You lightly grabbed the person’s bigger hands, warming your seemingly frozen hand even more.
“So… do we have a new sibling now?” “Seems like it.” The two older voices continued, “Well, I just hope they don’t turn out like Tommy- “GOD DAMMIT TECHNO-“ Loud arguing could be heard while you continued to hold the mysterious boy’s hand. Opposite to the loudness, the mysterious man from before spoke, “Would you like to hold them Wil?”
You assumed he nodded his head as the striped hat man handed you to ‘Wil’. The boy held you in his arms while the striped hat man softly caressed your head lovingly. You climbed onto the Wil’s sweater, burying your face into the soft material.
“Boys, could you stop arguing before you upset the baby.” “But Techno is being a bitch!” “Tommy! Where did you hear that word?” “Nowhere!” “Shut up Tommy. Before you cause Phil to finally get those hearing aids.”
The three continue bickering while you and Wil just vibe with Wil patting your head and you snuggling into his warmth. After a few minutes of arguing, they finally calm down and crowd around you.
“Alright. I’m going to go and fix up some proper clothes for them. In the meantime, try not to make the child cry, okay?” The striped hat man said, walking out of the room.
You could feel their eyes on you, with Wil still patting your head while a hand held yours. You slowly opened your eyes for the first time in the house and finally saw your new family.
The boy named Wil had curly brown hair with bangs to right of his face, pointed ears, and brown eyes; big round glasses adorned his face and a red beanie upon his head, with a big yellow sweater. The person holding your hand looked almost exactly like him. His hair was the same as Wil’s, though it was to the right, with square glasses and the same pointed ears, with his sweater being pink. A small tusk grew out of each of their mouths, being on opposite sides.,
Wilbur swooned to you, “Hi there. I’m Wilbur.”, smiling at you with a big smile. “This here is my twin, Technoblade, but just call him Techno or Tech.” He looked over to said twin, with Techno staring at you and then patting your head.
The smaller one, who had blonde hair and blue eyes wearing a white shirt with the sleeves being red, looked just as boisterous and loud as he acted. He looked at you curiously as you turned your head to look at him, and to your surprise started poking you in the cheek rather annoyingly with you groaning out of annoyance and snuggling up to Wilbur.
“Tommy, stop poking them you’re gonna make them hate you.” “Shut it Wil, you know I will be the favorite brother. Better than you or Techno or even Tubbo.”
Speaking of the devil, the one you assumed was ‘Tubbo’, due to his name only now being said and the rest having said their names, walked down the creaky stairs; a blanket over his shoulders. The boy had messy brown hair and goat pupils in his blue eyes.
Tubbo walked towards the couch, rubbing his eyes in tiredness. “Phil told me that we apparently have a new sibling.” He walked towards you and sat in front of Wilbur, staring into your (e/c) eyes. “What’s their name? Have you guys even figured out a name?” “I think we should wait until Phil gets back. We don’t want Tommy to try and name them ‘Big Man’.” Saying this, Techno squeezes your hand. “But anyway, I had this super weird dream-“
As Tubbo started ranting about various dreams he’s had over the week, Wilbur nudges Techno and hands you to him. Reluctantly, Techno holds you, with you snuggling into his sweater, which was made of the same material as Wilbur’s.
A few minutes pass and Tubbo is still talking about his dreams when Phil comes in. “Alright. I’ve set up a room for the little one. Considering they seem to be half Phantom, there aren’t any windows since I don’t know if they are affected by the sun or not.”
“Great. Speaking of, what are we going to name them?” “I say we name them Big Man!” “That’s a horrible idea Tommy!” Wilbur and Tommy continue to argue while Phil, Techno, and Tubbo all crowd around you on the couch. “So… what should we name them?” Tubbo started. “Well, what about something nice? Something… simple but fitting.” Tubbo and Phil listed off possible names, seeing if anything would stick.
“What about… y/n?” The rest of the family looked at Techno, the person who suggested the name. “Y/n?” Wilbur stated, thinking over the name. “Y/n. A lovely name.” Phil smiled, looking at you.
“Welcome to the family, Y/n.”
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iceeckos12 · 3 years
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and he sees dawn before the rest of the world
or: a fucked up little au of 200. intended to be unsettling so just be warned warnings for: unreality (i think that’s the appropriate term? please lmk if not), implied self harm, fucked up relationship dynamics; lmk if i should tag anything else
Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!
“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face, as though he could stop the barrage of sound just by covering his eyes. His alarm was unsympathetic to his whinging, continuing to scream its daily mourning dirge, grieving the end of another period of blessed rest. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up, christ…”
He reached clumsily for the phone on his bedside table, only for his fingers to scrabble uselessly around the ghost of its presence. He was momentarily so stymied by the absence that it took him longer than it should’ve to remember that he’d moved it to his desk, to prevent him from giving into the temptation to hit the snooze button just one more time.
Letting out another slew of curses, Martin shuffled onto his other side and reached for
A jaw-cracking yawn near split Martin’s face in two as he hunched over the gleaming tea kettle, steam beginning to pour from the spout. He shuffled his feet, eyes meandering sightlessly over the cow-shaped mug drying on the counter, the cluster of crumbs that he must’ve missed when cleaning up after dinner last night.
He hated mornings. Maybe it was the preemptive dread he felt at the thought of going to work; maybe it was because he hated having to be upright this early in the morning. Either way, he felt strangely disconnected from his morning routine, each motion carried out with habitual, distant efficiency as his thoughts raced along like a hamster on a wheel just below the surface.
It...was a bit silly for him to be worried about work, though. The stuff he was doing was interesting, and he had the loveliest coworkers a guy could ask for. They’d even offered to teach him a thing or two about artifact restoration once they learned the truth about his CV.
He drew himself up to his full height and rolled his shoulders back, clouded sigh mingling with the fog from the boiling water. Things were going well. Hell, he was actually going to get top surgery sometime in the next year or so, which was amazing considering his teenage self would’ve laughed at the very idea of being out.
There was no reason to dread going to work.
Martin carefully poured the water into the mug, letting the tea steep before adding a splash of milk and sugar. When he picked the mug up, the heat from the tea had bled into the ceramic, so warm as to be uncomfortable against the delicate skin of his palms. He didn’t let go, just kept on gripping the mug, like trying to contain the last gasp of a dying star.
Martin stared around his kitchen. The waterstains on the inside of the cow mug slowly evaporating into the still air; the crumbs that had sat there for who knows how long. The empty, blank face of his fridge.
Martin lifted the mug, and steam collected on his glasses as his breath wafted over the surface of the tea. He drew away, waiting for the lenses to clear, before leaning in for another sip.
His reflection stared back at him, a monochrome facsimile of his face rimmed in white smoke, and he recoiled, the mug slipping from
Working nine to five, what a way to make a living…
Martin stared out the window, his hand pillowed in the palm of his hand as Dolly Parton crooned in his ears. Split second by split second, he let his eyes catch on a point in the darkened surroundings, only letting his vision blur into incoherence when that fixed point whipped out of sight. It was a game he sometimes played when he got bored of reading or playing cards on his phone.
The old woman across from him let out a quiet grunt and shuffled, drawing his attention back inside the train. She was a gnarled old thing, bowed by the gravity of grief and time and life, though Martin couldn’t say for certain whether it was one well-lived.
Barely getting by, it’s all taking and no giving...
That was the thing about people watching: Martin was never quite sure if it was disrespectful to make assumptions about a person’s life based on a passing glimpse. He could never be sure if the person with the grumpy expression had a foul attitude, or if they were just a kind person on the tail-end of a truly awful day.
The old woman was knitting though, and Martin generally found it safe to assume that knitters were nice people.
For a moment he thought about taking out his headphones and striking up a conversation; the pattern looked devilishly complicated, and as a beginning knitter, he always appreciated tips. There was an unfinished set of fingerless green gloves in the back of his closet; it was easy for hands to get cold in the Archives, and the color suited
“Alright, Martin?”
Martin startled, his pen clattering to the floor. He looked up to find Sasha perched on the edge of his desk, grinning like the cat who’d just eaten the canary. Or, he thought she was. His eyes kept skittering from one corner of her face to the other, like a smooth stone skipping across a lake.
“Uh…” Frowning slightly, he let his gaze travel over the shelves of books, the humming lights, his cluttered workstation. He removed his glasses so he could rub at his aching eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Probably just the stress. “Yeah—yeah! Sorry, I’ve been distracted all morning.”
Martin got the impression of Sasha’s grin being tempered with genuine concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?”
“I think so. Just...work, and my mum…” he gave an expansive you know sort of gesture at life in general. “Thank god the weekend’s coming. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come get drinks with Mel and Tim and I after work, but…” She cut him a meaningful glance, the bottomless holes where her eyes should be boring bright spotlights into the back of his skull. “We’d understand if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“Is Georgie coming?”
Sasha shrugged. “Probably. Mel didn’t say so, but they’ve been all over each other since they started dating.”
Martin laughed. “True.” Tried to gauge how he was feeling, whether or not he was up to a night of socializing. You should go, a strangely posh little voice murmured in the back of his head, and he found himself saying, “Actually yeah, I would like to come. I could use a night out.”
Sasha clapped him on the shoulder, and the impact rattled through him like a gong being struck. The echoes of it vibrated all the way down to his toes. “Excellent.”
Martin hesitated, and then, not entirely sure of what he was asking, “What about J
“Thanks for waiting with us,” Georgie said, smiling beatifically up at him. Passed out on her shoulder, Melanie let out a drunken snuffle and curled over, like she was thinking of climbing through the spaces of Georgie’s ribcage and sleeping in her chest cavity forever.
“Not a problem,” Martin replied, scratching the back of his neck.
To be honest, waiting with her was as much for his benefit as theirs. At first, he’d thought it was just stress; now, he was very sure that something was wrong. It wasn’t anything specific, or even bad; more like there was a sepia camera filter tinting the world dusty and nostalgic.
After his third drink, he’d looked into Tim’s laughing face and thought he might burst into tears. And he still didn’t know what Sasha was supposed to look like.
But he didn’t want to worry her, so he just bit his lip and rocked back and forth on his heels, even though the motion made his head spin that much worse.
(Maybe he needed to take a couple of days off. Have a lie-in. But that would—that would delay his work. The Institute’s work. Delays were bad; he felt strongly enough about that to carve it directly into his skin so that he’d never forget. He could roll down his sleeve and take a peek at it whenever his motivation slipped, like checking a watch for the time.)
For lack of anything else to say, he nodded toward Melanie. “She’s really out, huh?”
“She’s always been a lightweight.” Her tone was wry, but her eyes were soft and fond as she brushed Melanie’s bangs back from her face. “Never gets hungover though, the lucky bastard.”
“The nerve!” Martin said, affecting offense, which sent them right into another giggling fit.
Once he got his breath back, Martin mentioned offhand, “You know, considering how similar they are, I’m surprised that her and J̷̧̱̜͕͕̤͉̣̺̺̝͖̠̹̜͙̣͉̩̺̤̟͉͓̞̹̗́̆̂̋͆̊̎́͂̑͋̌͊͘̚͠ͅo̶̧̨͕̖͔̬̖̝̪͚̻̟̠̜̣̰̅n̶̥̉́̎͑̀͂͆̿̾͛̾̔̐͌́̅̂͂̒̆̐́͊̄̾̍̅̅͝
“Stop it!” Martin screamed, grabbing the mug from the counter and throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall, scattering shards of ceramic across the floor. “I know
“What you’re doing,” Martin gripped the bathroom counter, ignoring the persistent ringing of his alarm, staring deeply into his reflection, “Stop it, stop it, nononon̴̡̡͚̮̠͙̻͔͎͈̜̓̈́̈́͜͜ͅǫ̸̯̠̱̖̲͙͍͎͒̇̑͒ṅ̶̨̩̳̩̝̹̳͎͈̬̦͆́̈́́͐̏̈́̕͝͝o̸̡̻̱̗̥̮̙̳̞͗̄͋̈́̀͝n̸̢̛̟͙̘̱̩͕̦̫̤̮͆͑̊͋́̂̽͜o̶̘̱̗̘̘͑̿͜ņ̶̥̞̠͕͓̠͔͚̮͈̬͕̀͗̄̓͑͑͛̕ͅő̸̮̫̓͌̾̌͋́̂̏̒̃̃̄̚n̵̗̫͕̺̻͔̭͖̉͒͗̀̈́̃̅o̴͓͉͉͗͋̎̕—”
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s okay—”
“No!” Martin shrieked, shoving Jon’s hands away, skittering backward across the broken and cracked stones of the Panopticon. Through the arched windows, the sky was a poisonous green and black, and multitudes of eyes orbited the room, watched his every movement with sickening fascination. “Just—stop.”
Luminous gaze weary and resigned, Jon did as he was bid, dropping back onto his heels.
Rubbing sweat and grime and tears from his face, breathing harshly through his mouth, Martin took a moment to remember where he was, why he was here. It always took a moment for everything to come back.
As though unable to keep silent any longer, Jon asked, “So what was it this time?”
“Don’t,” Martin hissed, dragging his hands through his greasy hair.
Though his expression went mulishly annoyed, Jon raised his hands placatingly, a silent, alright, you win. It was a familiar gesture, one that he’d done so many times while they were living in Scotland, while they were traveling the devastated landscape of the apocalypse. It made Martin ache for when things were simpler, when his heart didn’t just feel like one big bruise.
He gently set the thought aside, and turned a more assessing eye on the Panopticon. Normally the changes were insignificant, but something thick and red and black had started to coil around the windows, weaving in and out of the floor, cracking the stonework. Martin traced the strange things with his eyes, frowning—
“Christ, Jon,” he whispered in horrified realization. “Are...are those corpse roots?”
Jon bobbed his head. “They’ve long since overtaken the rest of London. It’s just us, now.”
Martin sucked in a long, frustrated breath through his teeth. There was no point trying to talk any sense into Jon, not after so long, and force would only result in immediately getting kicked back into that horrible dream world.
“And the others?”
Jon shrugged, tracing the cracks in the earth with his fingers. “Still alive, and living happily in the dream I made for them.” He didn’t say, unlike you, but the implication was so loud he might as well have screamed it.
“Shut up,” Martin muttered, pushing to his feet and limping to one of the windows.
Corpse roots, as far as the eye could see. They covered the city of London in a blanket of tangled black, so thick that it was impossible to see the buildings beneath.
“Was it worth it?” he asked, sagging against the side of the window, too tired to be angry.
When the silence persisted a second too long, Martin turned around to find Jon with his head tilted back, examining the corpse roots consuming what had once been the Beholding’s seat of power, expression distant and thoughtful. The eyes, ever-watching, never understanding, drifted closer, greedily drinking in the sight.
When Martin realized that Jon wasn’t planning on answering, he let out another sigh, ruffled his bangs away from his face, and said, “You’re never there.”
Jon’s gaze snapped to him with a laser-edged focus. “Sorry?”
“If you’re going to trap me in a dream,” Martin said, each syllable clipped and precise, “You could at least be there.”
Like it always did, Jon’s face crumpled, and he looked away. “...I don’t deserve it.”
“Oh, we’re well past that and you know it!” Martin shrieked, striking his fist against the stone. “You made your fucking decision to damn the world, to hell with whatever we thought, the least you could do is stop hiding behind your pointless guilt and act like this is what you actually want!”
It would’ve been better, if Jon had simply become drunk with power and was no longer listening to reason. The fact that he’d made this same decision every single day with clear, unclouded eyes and sound judgement—as Jon the human, rather than Jon the lynchpin of the apocalypse, pupil of the Eye—made Martin want to scream.
“I do want it!” Jon snapped back, then quieter, “I do.” He looked up at the corpse roots again, eyes going misty. “I just—I should witness every second of misery and pain that I’m causing. I don’t deserve to just...forget.”
Wind snapped and howled around them like a creature mad with rage, and Martin idly wondered what would happen to this world once Jon died. If it would all go back to the way it had been before, or if the shell of the apocalypse would remain until the end of time, a corpse husk of a reality warped beyond repair.
“You shouldn’t have to experience this alongside me though,” Jon continued, rallying. “So I would really appreciate it if you’d stop breaking your dreams.”
“Tough,” Martin snapped back, folding his arms obstinately over his chest.
“You could be happy!” Jon reiterated, stabbing his index finger into the palm of his hand. “You could just...live your life! Forget! There’s no point in being here.”
“It’s a deal, remember? Where you go, I go. Fuck you very much, but I don’t break my promises.”
Jon stared at him for one beat, then another—and then promptly burst out laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Martin stared at him, utterly bewildered, as the laughing slowly began to dissolve into desperate, heaving sobs, as he began rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around himself in a mockery of comfort.
“I miss you,” Jon gasped out, half-crazed. “So much. I miss you every day even though you’re right in front of me. But I can’t go to you, because I don’t deserve to, not when I’m the one who trapped you here. I’m everything that’s wrong with the world. I always have been.”
“Jon,” Martin sighed, low and tired.
Jon buried his face into his knees. “No, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t forgive me just because you pity me, that’s not what I—I don’t—”
“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Martin shook his head. “Fine. You’re an asshole, and I hate you. But it’s like I said.” He gestured toward the Panopticon, the roots, the poisonous sky. “When has deserving ever mattered?”
Jon lifted his face from his knees, though his gaze stayed rooted to the floor. “...I suppose.”
“Right,” Martin agreed. “I’ve accepted that you’re not going to change your mind, but...at the very least, I don’t want to die alone. So can you please just…”
There was a long, weighted pause.
They’d had arguments like this what felt like hundreds of times before. Martin begging for Jon to change his mind, Jon refusing with that same resigned, determined expression on his face, before sending Martin back into his dreams.
Maybe it was because Martin wasn’t asking him to change his mind this time. Maybe it was because they were so close to the end of all things, and soon they’d be the last two people on earth. Maybe it was because Jon was tired, had been for so, so long, and he had won anyway, so there was no point in fighting any longer.
“Alright,” Jon whispered.
...
Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!
“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face.
Somewhere in the far distance, the toilet flushed. A moment later, a pair of feet padded lightly into the room, hesitated at the edge of the bed, and then made their way over to the desk. The alarm abruptly went silent.
Martin uncovered his eyes and grinned up at Jon as he tentatively slid back between the covers, every movement careful and deliberate, like he was reading stage directions from a script.
“Look at Mr. Workaholic, having a lie-in,” Martin teased, pulling Jon into his arms and inhaling the scent of his coconut shampoo. “Must be the end of the world, or something.”
Jon stiffened for just a moment, before turning around and burying his face into Martin’s chest. “Or something.”
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mrsdeanwinchester19 · 3 years
Text
The Dinner-Sequel to The Interview
Pairing: Steve x reader
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Sequel to The Interview.  Steve takes his wife to meet his team after her interview
Warnings: None
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“Steve, do you think this dress is ok?” I ask, coming out of our walk-in closet wearing my lace, off the shoulder red dress.  Steve is taking me to dinner with the team tonight, so I want to make a good first impression.  Most people would think I’ve met the team before, but Steve kept our relationship a secret in the beginning and then the team broke up because of the Accords and we got married when we were on the run, so we really couldn’t invite any of the team members.
We had our wedding in Norway, one of the few countries that hadn’t signed the Accords.  They claimed they didn’t sign because if a non-government owned unit made from people from different countries called the Alsos Unit hadn’t helped them in World War II, the Germans would have succeeded in creating an Atomic bomb in their country.  In Norway, there was one team member, Thor, who was visiting Earth; he vouched for us.
After our wedding, we went to Wakanda on our honeymoon and visited Bucky. We had been having dinner with Bucky, T’Challa, and Shuri when we told him we got married.  He was upset that he couldn’t be there, but he understood when he found out the wedding happened when he was asleep.  When he said Steve could make it up to him by naming his first son James; Steve started choking on his Umqombothi drink.  I know Steve wants kids, but he wasn’t willing to have them while being on the run. Now that we’re not hiding, we’re actively trying for a baby.  I wonder if tonight he’ll break the news that he has a wife AND is trying to get said wife pregnant.
As I walk out of the closet, I bend down to adjust the ankle strap on my right heel.  I stand back up, smooth my dress, and look up at Steve.  He’s staring at me with a dopey smile on his face, love evident in his eyes.  “The dress itself is fine, you make it look perfect.”
“Ugh, Steve, quit it with the cheesy lines,” I protest while blushing.  Men used to say these things to their wives and girlfriends back in their time, it’s why Steve and Bucky can be prince charming when they want to be. Bucky more often than Steve now that he’s more like his old self, or so Steve says.
“I’m just being honest,” he defends, shrugging his shoulders.  He comes over to me and wraps his arms around my waist.  “You nervous?”
“What do you think?” I ask rhetorically.   I haven’t been this nervous since I first met Steve. In 2014, during a career conference once for journalists, the resort we were at was seized by terrorists.  One of my coworkers and I were the only ones from The New York Sun attending, despite the fact that it was in New York. I suppose they only wanted to go if the convention was out of town so they could get out of work and go on vacation. We were held in the resort’s Grand Hall for hours until the Avengers were able to save us.  There was a pretty big fight between Steve, Thor, Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and the terrorists but luckily no one died.  I had been hurt in the kerfuffle, a broken finger, but after Steve wrapped my finger in a brace, he allowed me to interview him.  During the on-camera interview with him, Thor was teasing him in the background, doing silly faces and the “blah blah blah” hand motion.
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Steve had asked for my name and number to “keep in touch and see if my finger heals correctly”.  When I gave it to him, he wrote it down in an old-fashioned address book. I hadn’t expected him to call me ever, but he did, asking for a date.  At first, he was weary of me being a journalist, in case things ended badly and I wrote a bad article about him.  However, a year later, he was thankful I was a journalist because I had access to all archived articles about the Winter Soldier.  After that happened, I knew he trusted me wholeheartedly and I felt the same. When the Accords started happening, I had access to the signing, to interview government people about it, and relayed that information to Steve about who he could trust.  That was how I found out about Norway not signing.
“They’ll love you,” he says.  “Bucky loves you, Tony will probably love you because he’ll think the interview prank you pulled on me was hilarious.  Nat and Wanda will be happy another girl is around.  Thor likes you, even Loki took a liking to you; he would love the interview prank. Clint will like you, Bruce will like you; no one has a reason to dislike you.
I turn around and take a good look at him. Royal blue dress shirt and black pants. His hair is up and I want nothing more than to run my fingers through it. He keeps me pressed to his body closely and I rub my hands along his chest. “If we didn’t have to go to dinner with your friends, I would be all over you right now.”
“Sorry, last night’s sex is just gonna have to hold you.” I give a little laugh.  “I’m just messing with you, I’ll be all over you tonight,” he growls, pulling my face up to his and kissing me deeply.  His kisses always leave me breathless, whether they’re passionate like this or small, chaste kisses when he’s leaving for work in the morning.  This however, is a whole new level and it’s making my heart go crazy.
Steve picks up the basket on the kitchen counter and we walk out the door. When we get to the car, he opens the door for me, ever the gentleman, before climbing in himself.  As he drives there, I fiddle with the hem of my dress.  I’m so worried I’ll talk too much or too little, or I’ll offend someone or embarrass Steve. What if I mention something about him that they don’t know?  Like that he bawled like a baby at Where the Red Fern Grows and Homeward Bound. Tony would probably love that but I don’t want to make Steve feel bad, I was crying too.
My biggest worry is what they’ll think of me after the interview.  Will they think it was funny or will they look at me as unprofessional for not telling them I had a conflict of interest with the Avengers?  I think Tony will like me, and maybe Nat, but I have no idea about the others.   I don’t think Bucky would come around as much as he does if he really didn’t like spending time with both Steve and me. Besides, sometimes when Steve is on a mission and he isn’t, he comes and keeps me company with old movies and our little two person book club we started.  His first choice of book was The Hobbit, which he told me he had read it when it first came out in 1937.  He was happy but not surprised to find out there were movies based on them.
When we drive up to the compound, Steve has a difficult time getting me through security.  They recognized my face and apparently Tony told them not to let me back. “Don’t alert Tony about her,” Steve said as he explained the situation to the guard.  He looked skeptical but agreed.
Steve led me upstairs, but not to the dining room where the team was waiting. He led me to his room.  “Well, well, well, Mr. Rogers, I thought we had to meet your friends in a little bit. Though I know you could probably get it done in ten minutes.”
“Ha ha ha, very funny,” he sarcastically replies.  “I just needed to grab…this,” he says, pulling his wallet out of his nightstand.  “Forgot it here yesterday.”
I simply hum in response to his explanation because I’m too busy looking around his room.  I’ve only seen it over FaceTime and in pictures.  It’s very different from our room at home. Our house, which we had just moved to from our apartment in preparation for a family, has a farmhouse theme.  Our master bedroom has a cream colored walls and one shiplap wall which our bed’s decorative headboard sits against, while our king sized bed is covered in a thick white comforter.  There’s a gray bench at the end of our bed and a blue and white rug.  There are nightstands on each side of the bed where we keep our small before bed items and our white, shared dresser is on the other side of the room, next to the door for our walk-in closet.  We have an attached bath with a clawfoot tub and a shower stall.  Our room lets in lots of natural light, which Steve loves because he likes to let the morning sun warm his back on his days off.
This room has a completely different feel to it. It’s much darker than our room at home. The walls are gray and his comforter is dark blue.  He has a black dresser across from his bed with a TV mounted to the wall above it. A plain bathroom with just a few essentials like shaving cream, a toothbrush, toothpaste, etc sit on the counter.  While our walls at home aren’t covered in pictures, we have more than the two he has here.  One is a picture of him and Bucky laughing and the other is of his parents before his father went to war; the war he never came back from.  Both pictures he has copies of hanging up at home. There’s a somewhat large window on the wall, but it’s covered with a blackout curtain.
I did most of the decorating at home, while this decorating was all him.   “Steve?” He looks at me.  “Do you not like our room at home?”
He furrows his eyebrows.  “No.  I love our place.  Why would you think that? Also, that’s very random to be bringing up now.”
“Well it’s just…this room is so different from ours at home.  I just didn’t know if you liked the darker colors better.  I want you to be comfortable in our room at home.  We can change it if you want it to look more like this one.”
He gives a little laugh and turns to face me.  “I didn’t decorate this room, Tony’s person did and he gave me this room because it’s the “most masculine”.  I prefer our room because it’s bright and spacious.  The fact that you decorated it is special to me because it’s like a present you gave to me.  Plus, I don’t have the best eye for interior design since everything I grew up with was either floral or had doilies.  But to be honest, this one feels a bit like a dungeon.  I just don’t bother to change it because I just sleep at home.  And I didn’t change it before I met you because even then I just used it to sleep, if I slept at all,” he looks into the distance, remembering all the nights he spent up in the gym, trying to beat the memories out of his mind.  He changes the subject, “Ok, so when we go down there I’m gonna have you wait around the corner and then you can come out when I tell you.”
He leads me downstairs and has me wait in a hallway. He walks around the corner and I hear Tony say, “Alright Capsicle, what’s the surprise you have for us?”
“Everybody just sit down and I’ll get to it in a minute,” he replies.  The sound of chairs scraping the floor is heard and Tony grumbles something about how he had been planning to have lasagna with Pepper tonight.  After a few seconds of silence, Steve comes back around the corner, grabs my hand, and leads me out. I nearly trip over my heels when we start moving and the pit in my stomach only grows.
At the sight of me, Tony and Natasha stand up startled. “What is she doing here?” Tony angrily asks.
“I thought you banned her,” Natasha adds on.
They all begin chattering, asking Steve why I’m here until Bucky calmly says, “Hey Y/N.”
Sam looks at Bucky confused, “You know her?”  Bucky nods his head and Sam looks at Steve, confused and a little hurt.  “Steve?”
“Everybody,” Steve starts, setting his hand on my lower back.  “This is Y/N, my wife.”
“WIFE?!” they all shout at different times.  Steve and I get bombarded with about a million questions at once.  When did we meet, why weren’t they invited to the wedding, when the wedding was, why I interviewed Steve the way I did, etc.
A loud thud on the balcony draws everyone’s attention. Thor is standing there in his armor and cape, holding his hammer.  “Sorry I’m late for team dinner,” he begins but stops when he sees me.  “Lady Y/N, I haven’t seen you since the wedding.  How has being married to the Captain been?”
“Oh you know, being married to a man-child is a struggle, but he’s hot enough for me to keep him around,” I joke.
“Thor, you know her too?” Tony asks.
“Yes I do.  Loki does too but I decided not to bring him tonight.  I think it would have been a bad idea.”
“Alright, Tony, sit down and I’ll explain everything,” Steve says.  Tony hesitantly sits down and everyone else follows.  Steve explained everything from why we met to why we couldn’t invite them to the wedding.
As he’s finishing telling the story and answering questions from the team, Tony’s bots bring in the pasta and Steve gets up and grabs something from the basket we brought.  He opens a bottle of wine and begins filling glasses.  When he gets to mine, I put my hand over my cup.  “Not tonight,” I say.
“But it’s your favorite,” he says.
“I can’t,” I say, not wanting to get in to it.
“C’mon, I won’t let you drink too much,” he says jovially.
“No, Steve…I can’t,” I say forcefully, looking up to make eye contact, hoping he understands without giving anything away.
He understands, but unfortunately his mouth works faster than his brain.  He looks down at my stomach and an excited smile spreads on his face.  “Are you…?”
I look around the table, seeing the Avengers all looking at us expectedly.  I look back at Steve and sheepishly nod.  He gasps and nearly drops the bottle, but luckily he realizes that when I reach out to catch it.
“A babe,” Thor says happily.  “Mazel tov.”
“They’re not Jewish,” Bucky says to Thor.  “Can’t wait to meet little James or Jamie.”  I give Bucky a look to let him know it’s not happening.  “Ok, Bucky works too.”
Tony puts his head in his hands looking like he’s about to pass out.  “Oh my god, we find out Steve is married to a woman I banned from the compound, and now that he’s going to be a father.”
I look at Steve to see him with tears in his eyes. Thankfully, Natasha saves us. “I’d like to propose a toast,” she says, standing up and holding her glass out.  “To Steve and Y/N, I hope you have a long, happy marriage and a healthy baby girl that you name Natasha.”
“That was the other thing we had planned to tell you tonight.  We’ve been trying for a baby.  I guess we were successful.”  Steve finishes pouring the drinks while everybody suggests baby names.  After a while, the conversation drifts to other things.  I enjoy listening to them, though they’re constantly quipping (mostly Tony).
Bucky, who’s sitting next to me, whispers to Steve, who’s on my other side, “Are we going to church this Sunday?”  The three of us go to church most Sundays. Steve and Bucky both grew up going to church, and it gives them some hope in a dark world.
Tony, who wasn’t involved in the conversation, cuts in. “Barnes, you could live at church and you still won’t go upstairs when you die.”
Bucky’s metal hand clenches so hard around his fork I’d be surprised if it isn’t bent.  He looks at Tony and gives him a very fake, overly sweet smile.  “Tony, I love how mean you are to me because it makes me feel less guilty about what I did to your parents.”
Tony stands up, slamming his hands on the table and Bucky mirrors him.  It looks like they’re about to attack but Steve intervenes.  “Tony, Bucky!  Tony, that was uncalled for and Bucky, that was unnecessary.  We know how you actually feel about your past and we’ve watched you try to change.”  Both men slowly sit back down.  “We have a guest.”  Bucky relaxes first, then Tony does.
“Y/N,” Tony addresses me.  “I need to apologize for my rudeness towards Bucky on my first night officially meeting you.  I was hoping not to fight with him tonight.”
“You call that a fight?  You should hear these two,” I say, gesturing to Steve and Bucky on either side of me.  “These guys can bicker with each other like an old married couple for hours about the smallest things.  Last week they had a 45 minute argument on how many times you can reuse a towel before it needs to be washed.”
“Wash it right away,” Steve mutters.
“Steve, we used to use towels so many times before we washed them in the 40s,” Bucky argues.
“Yeah but that was because if we needed to wash things, Mom had to heat up water and then hang-dry it on the balcony.  It’s easy to wash things now days.”
“Anyways,” Tony says, stopping their argument.  “I guess the interview you gave Cap makes sense now…somewhat.”
“Well I was pissed at him that day, so I think he deserved it.”
Tony smiles at Steve.  “You need to bring her around more often.”
Taglist: @imanuglywombat @infernal-fire @dottirose @carpediemm-18​
69 notes · View notes
punkpresentmic · 3 years
Text
Traitor Aizawa AU Pt. 4 — 1, 2, 3
cw for implied sexual content, but nothing that warrants a mature rating
Hizashi digs back into his husband’s case, & it's clear investigators still don’t particularly WANT him to—partially for distrust, partially for the still-secret letters, he's sure. But he does what he can to show them that he wants this mess cleaned up. They reluctantly give him what they have to chew on: not much—a vague lead, an unreliable source. It puts Hizashi no closer to the letters or why they were taken.
The investigators only keep an eye on him until they get bored &/or annoyed, judging him airheaded or harmless. Once he’s away from prying eyes, he sets off on his own; Hizashi is already in deep with less-than-legal activities lately. He sneaks into their evidence archives.
The letters aren’t there.
Hizashi skips out of the police station before he’s discovered sticking his nose where it shouldn’t be. He has to get back to school anyway. After teaching English & having a shitty, lonely lunch, an idea occurs to him. If it was Nezu who suggested the letters be taken… would Nezu have kept the letters?
So Hizashi sets out about a new kind of heist. Nezu is in a meeting & the principal’s office is locked, but Hizashi as a tenured faculty member has access to anywhere in UA. Of course it’ll record that he entered, but that’s not Hizashi’s concern right now. He goes through every file in Nezu’s cabinet. Nothing. His heart sinks. Then he notices Nezu’s desk drawer has a simple lock on it. As a last ditch effort, he picks it with a bobby pin. There’s a bowl of candy inside. It’s the only idea he has left to pick it up & see if there’s anything underneath &.... Sure enough, just like in a bad movie the drawer has a false bottom. Under it, there’s a neat stack of letters bound with a rubber band.
They’ve all been opened.
Hizashi immediately seeks out the one marked with his name, tugs it out, skims it. It’s everything Shouta said it was. It ends with I love you. The script is shaky. Hizashi’s heart is in his throat. Oh, Shou…
Nezu coughs; Hizashi nearly jumps out of his skin. “You know,” Nezu says, “a locked drawer in a secure area might also be reasonably assumed to be alarmed.”
Hizashi meets his eyes, lets the letter fall to the desk. “Care to explain what these are?”
Nezu is impossible to read. “They are exactly what they appear to be: letters left behind by Aizawa Shouta, confiscated at the time of their discovery.”
“He left me a letter,” Hizashi repeats, careful to reign in his voice as he shakes his head. “He left his students letters. We all thought he left without even saying goodbye.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Nezu notes, tone even and gentle. “You are aware he left a clear & concise description of his crimes. I do believe that’s going to be important to remember going forward.”
Hizashi grinds his teeth at that. “Why wasn’t I made aware of this?”
Nezu backs down with a sigh. He climbs into his desk chair, Hizashi moving to stand on the other side of the desk. Nezu gazes sadly down at the pile of letters. “There were two main factors we had to consider. Firstly, at the earliest stages of the investigation, it was unclear if you or any of the students had secret involvement—the letters could have held nefarious communications.” Nezu took a breath. “We no longer believe that after thorough analysis. Though perhaps this should not come as a surprise—if there was anything we knew about our Eraserhead, it was his steadfast aversion to extraneous details or wasting time.”
Hizashi’s heart throbs painfully in his chest.
“As for the second reason: the emotional & psychological impact that these letters could have on our community. Our hero students with their steadfast trust in their instructor were particularly vulnerable. & you, Yamada, are not an exception to a similar emotional vulnerability. In the interest of damage control, in doing my best to hold the UA community together & keep it from further collapse, the letters were confiscated promptly & without notification of their existence.”
Hizashi’s fingernails dig into his palm, fists clenched to stop his hands shaking. “I’m an adult. & a pro. I don’t need the same protection as 15 year-olds. We’re talking about my husband. I think I’m entitled to some transparency.”
“I never said you weren’t,” Nezu placates. “But I wanted you to receive this information once we had a better understanding of the situation. & once you had emotionally stabilized from what I’m sure is an unforgivable betrayal.”
‘Unforgivable.’ That wording was purposeful, Hizashi knew. It almost begged him to dispute it.
Hizashi spread his hands. “So you don’t think I’m emotionally stable? & you let me keep watching over the next generation?” His laugh was intended to be dry at most, but it comes out nearly hysterical.
Nezu sighs again. “Yamada, you were hurting. & you refused the counselling we recommended. You chose to work through your pain. We were not going to deny you that.”
“Principal, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m not really buying that you’d have shown me these letters even if I had gone to counselling.”
Nezu hummed. “What do you know about Eraserhead’s motivations, Yamada?”
He forces a smile through gritted teeth. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, almost sunny. “Beyond the fact that he has them.”
“Indeed. I’d hoped you & this community would have time to heal. & I’d hoped in the meantime the investigation could provide further insight into why this happened. The rhetoric with which these letters were written is not something that can be overlooked.”
“I thought you said there weren’t any secret messages.”
“Codes & clandestine communications, no. Ulterior motives & further lies & attempted manipulation, on the other hand…” Nezu meets his eyes. “There’s a level of cunning with which these crimes were committed right under our noses, a level of plotting that got past even me. You must understand I am only trying to do what I can to protect my students & staff from any further harm or puppeteering at the hands of villains.”
Hizashi has to look away. He monitors his breathing, lets his head hang when it doesn’t come back under his control. Fists and teeth and heart clenched against all of this. Too much. It’s too much.
There’s a paw on his arm, then. “I’m sorry, Yamada. This was not an action intended to be harmful. You’re hurting. Of course you are. But you are also strong & intelligent. Meet with a counsellor. Talk to someone. Kayama is worried for you; that much is clear. There are people who care & want to help you through this. Please, Yamada. Don’t shoulder this alone.”
Hizashi does try seeing the counsellor. He leaves within fifteen minutes.
The next time Shouta arrives, as he said he would, he’s still absolutely ragged. But it doesn’t seem like he’s gotten worse. Aside from the smell. Hizashi has him take a shower. Shouta stepping into the room towel-drying his unruly hair in Hizashi’s fluffy robe is somewhere between endearing & heartbreaking. Hizashi pats the spot on the bed beside him. Shouta sits.
He tries asking again about the why, about the what caused you to do this. Again, Shouta can’t talk about it. Maybe soon, Shouta says noncommittally.
Hizashi relays the story about finding the letters, about reading his, about the confrontation with Nezu. Shouta looks concerned. Hizashi shakes his head, reiterates that he doesn’t quite have it in him to believe that Shouta is a villain here. But he can’t believe this blindly after all that’s happened. He needs information. Because this doesn’t make sense for the man he knows. Shouta nods. “I know.”
“Then why can’t you give me something to work with here?” Hizashi whispers, & they’re close.
“Two reasons,” Shouta breathes between them. “The first being that it would put me in danger of not being able to do what I need to do.” Then he gives Hizashi a small, shitty smile. “& the second is that if I tell you, you might try to come with me.”
Hizashi hums, drinking this in. “If I did, maybe you’d have someone to make sure you had your eye drops.”
It startles a snort out of Shouta, & his husband laughing in his bed is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in months, & Hizashi knows he’s already too far gone, & Hizashi doesn't hesitate when he kisses him this time.
They sink deeply into it immediately. It’s been so long. Too long. Hizashi makes a move to take it further—it’s been too long—& Shouta pulls back to start on the ‘I haven’t proven myself to you, I’ve done nothing to deserve your trust, etc etc’ spiel. Hizashi wants none of it. & frankly he’s a little sick of people making decisions ‘for his own good.’
& he sure as hell isn’t going to let his husband get away without knowing that he’s wanted here, that he’s missed, desired too. Hizashi tells him as much.
Ultimately they fall together easily, if not guiltlessly. There’s a heaviness between them even as they press desperately close, a weight to their actions. It’s a certain relief—this shared knowledge that they’re still them, or at least willing to try. ‘Deserved’ or not, to Hizashi it’s like catching a glimpse of the Sun after days trapped underground—too bright to look at directly, yet simultaneously the most sublime relief.
Hizashi is naked in Shouta’s lap, Shouta’s face buried in his chest. When Hizashi comes down from basking in the afterglow, it’s to realize that Shouta isn’t just trembling under him. Shouta's eyes are too dry these days to make actual tears, but the shuddering & quiet, hiccupping sobs are unmistakable.
Hizashi shushes him gently, kisses his eyes, whispers about not straining them more, about how he’s got him, how he’s here, how he’s not going away, how he loves him. How they’re going to get through this together. Hizashi lays them down, holding him near, stroking his hair. This time, it’s Shouta who falls asleep in his arms.
He’s still gone by morning.
(pt. 5)
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voiceless-terror · 3 years
Note
I’m bad at prompts so I have an aesthetic vibe for a fic: dusty library, silver glasses, warm blanket, hot tea, cold voices.
Jon wants to get Martin’s attention. Daisy and Melanie have an unusual plan.
“I think he’s made it quite clear that he doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“I need...I need to make sure he’s okay. Daisy’s already tried and well, you-”
“Absolutely not.”
“Exactly.”
Jon sighed. He needed to trust Martin, he knew this. But how could he, when he faded more and more each day? When Jon couldn’t reach him, couldn’t know he was safe? He needed to touch him, make sure he was still solid, still there. That Jon still cared. And if Jon could just break through-
“He won’t let me talk to him. And I don’t know what to do.” The words came out more plaintively than he would’ve liked. Melanie gave him an unimpressed look, Daisy leaned back on the couch. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly decided to confess his feelings to these two, perhaps it was the leftover alcohol in his system from their afternoon drink. Basira was off on another lead and Daisy needed the distraction. They all did. And now they were back at the office, bored and lethargic, Jon dodging the paper balls Melanie lazily tossed his way.
“You’ve got to do something,” Daisy drawled, idly picking at her nails. “To get his attention. You’ve got to make him come to you.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Jon groaned in frustration. “If I did, I would’ve done it already.”
“Wait.” Melanie sat up straighter, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I know exactly what to do.” Daisy and Jon shared a glance as she broke into a smirk. 
“And Martin won’t be able to resist you.”
____________
“Is this really necessary?” Jon asked, flinching back as Melanie applied the pink-coated brush to his cheek. “It seems a bit excessive.”
“Stop moving. And yes, if you want to look the part.” Melanie wielded the makeup brush like a weapon as Daisy followed with a critical eye. “Does he look pathetic enough?”
“Hmm.” Daisy leaned forward, uncomfortably close to Jon’s face. “I think he needs a bit more. Just a pinch.”
“Agreed.”
“This is ridiculous,” Jon snarked, leaning away from Melanie’s hands. “I don’t know why I agreed to this. It’s not going to work.”
“You agreed to this because you know it’s going to work,” Melanie insisted, dipping the brush in the compact. “Trust me, Martin won’t be able to resist doting on you if you look properly ill. When I came here the second time ‘round, he hovered outside the door the entire time. “Do you need anything, Jon? Can I get you some tea? Are you feeling alright?”
“That’s not what he sounds like-”
“That’s exactly what he sounds like,” Daisy smirked, settling back into the couch. “If you don’t like the makeup, we can always go with option two-”
“I am not letting Melanie punch me, thank you very much.” She still harbored a lot of residual (and rightful, in his opinion) anger from the surgery incident, and he wasn’t willing to be the outlet for it. “How do we know he’ll even see me?”
“He goes down to the library every Wednesday, sneaks in and out real quiet-like,” Daisy repeated for the third time. “Trust me, I know his patterns.” There was still some Hunt in her yet, no matter how much she starved it. Listen to the quiet. He didn’t say it aloud, but from the look in Daisy’s eyes he didn’t need to. “We’ll set you up there. Don’t worry, he won’t be able to miss you.”
“Whatever you say,” he grumbled, batting away Melanie’s hand. “Are you done yet?” She evaluated him with a scowl.
“That should do it.” She shut the compact with a definitive snap. “I was going to add a bit of purple eyeshadow under the eyes, but that might be overdoing it. You already look like a zombie.”
Daisy nodded appreciatively. “Powder did the job. God, Melanie. You’re a pro.”
“Thank you,” she preened as Jon rolled his eyes. “Now, for the finishing touch!” She leaned forward, yanking the scrunchie out of his hair and ignoring his yelp with an air of satisfaction. “Perfect!”
“I fail to see why that was necessary!” His head ached from the sudden pull on his hair, which was now falling down his shoulders in a tangled, ruffled mess. God, I must look insane. He lifted a hand to put it in some semblance of order when Melanie grabbed at it, stopping him in his tracks.
“No, you’ll ruin it!” she snapped. “Martin likes it when it’s down.”
“How do you know that?”
“God, he really is oblivious,” Daisy said with a disbelieving chuckle. “I may have only visited a few times, but even I saw the way he stared at you whenever you so much as touched your hair. It was sickening to watch.”
“C’mon, we’ve got to get you settled. We have to time this perfectly.” Melanie gestured impatiently for him to get up. “Daisy’ll take you up. I’ve got to grab something.” Jon didn’t trust her but in all honesty, what did he have to lose? The things we get up to when Basira’s gone...though I suppose this is significantly better than the Coffin Incident. 
Daisy took his arm, leaning on him for a bit of support as they made their way up to the library. To anyone else it would look the opposite, that he was the one relying on her- Daisy was good at hiding her weakness. “There’s a couch by the front desk,” she murmured as they rounded the corner. “It’ll be right in his line of vision.”
“What if he isn’t paying attention?” Jon worried, watching as the other staff studiously avoided their gaze, side-stepping them in the hallway. The Archives were truly toxic, and no one wanted to anger the heavily-scarred, scowling Archivist and his rabid ex-cop friend. For the first time in his life, Jon was intimidating. He didn’t like it.
“He always pays attention to you,” Daisy insisted. “He just doesn’t want you to see it.” The words put a lump in his throat. He wondered if they were true. He opened his mouth to reply when Melanie scurried up behind them, her arms full of-
“No.”
“Yes.” Melanie pushed into him, impatiently urging them forward. “Trust me, it’ll work.”
“I am not-” He was cut off by a surprisingly strong push from Daisy, landing him on the couch with an ‘oof.’ Melanie threw the offending object around his shoulders- a fluffy pink blanket Jon recognized from its place on Basira’s cot. He tried to worm his way out of it but Melanie gave him a sharp slap on the arm, ignoring his hiss of pain. He looked around, wildly embarrassed by the entire situation to find that the room was strangely empty, which was surprising for the time of day. I suppose everyone’s trying to avoid us these days.
Daisy froze, her eyes narrowing and posture straightening. “He’s coming.”
Melanie swore, running around the corner and coming back with an old, heavy tome she'd snatched off the nearest shelf. She grinned, an almost manic thing that Jon instinctively leaned back from. “The final touch,” she said proudly, not waiting for his answer as she opened the book with a flourish, flipping the pages in front of his face like a fan. He flinched back, utterly confused.
“Melanie, what on earth are you-”
_______
Martin heard him before he saw him.
The scurrying of feet across the hardwood was strange enough, but Jonathan Sims sitting on the library’s best couch, sneezing into a fluffy blanket and looking bleary-eyed and very exhausted was even stranger. Well, not the exhausted part. That was Jon’s normal state of being. 
But there he sat, wrapped in Basira’s fluffy pink blanket with a flushed face, messy hair, and an ashen pallor that could only come from sickness. Martin had seen it before, back when he lived in Document Storage and Jon was working himself into the ground, much like he was doing nowadays. He felt that pang of worry that accompanied those long nights in the Archives, something he was trying desperately to tamp down.
Working for Peter was infuriating and isolating, just as it was supposed to be. He was constantly reminding himself that it was for the greater good, that he was doing something important, protecting his friends. Protecting Jon. But how could he protect him when he kept finding Martin, even though he promised to trust him? How could he protect him when he kept throwing himself headlong into any danger he could find? How could he protect him, when his biggest enemy was himself?
Another sneeze. Jon looked almost confused by it, maybe even offended that it happened. It made him want to smile, an urge he fought down as he tried to remember Peter’s promise to keep them safe if he kept his distance. He hazarded one last glance, sure that he wasn’t in Jon’s line of sight that he noticed one last detail- Jon’s sweater. Incredibly baggy, worn, light blue knit- a color he’d never seen on him before.
Martin’s sweater. And with that, he found himself walking over to Jon almost involuntarily, steps loud and purposeful as they startled Jon from his perch on the couch. And when Jon noticed him he smiled, so bright and happy and obviously extremely out of it if he was having this reaction to Martin. His face really did look flushed up close- he must have a fever, especially if he wandered up here in this state. Martin successfully resisted the urge to feel his forehead. 
“M-Martin!” God, how could he not talk to Jon, when he said his name with such happiness? He fought to keep his voice level and cool as he responded.
“Jon. What are you doing up here?” Jon’s smile dimmed slightly, and Martin tried not to feel guilty. He did not succeed.
“I, um-” Jon stuttered, his usual sign of nervousness as he ran a hand through his hair. His hair, that was mused and tangled and falling in his face. Fuck. “I w-was reading.” He struggled to pick up a particularly heavy-looking book from where it sat on the couch next to him, its title obscured from Martin’s view. “It was getting, er, a bit stuffy down in the Archives.”
A red flag if Martin ever saw one. They rarely left the Archives these days, unless it was for a quick lunch and even then, Jon had to be dragged out bodily. He sighed, trying not to meet Jon’s pleading eyes. And still, he couldn’t help but ask. “Are you...okay?”
Jon looked down to his lap, the blanket half slipping off his shoulders as he fidgeted with his hands. Martin looked pointedly away. “Not feeling very well,” Jon murmured to the ground, looking strangely nervous, maybe even guilty. That didn’t make sense. He must be really ill, if he’s actually admitting to it. Martin hesitated, fighting between what he should do and what he really, really wanted to do. The cold evaporated just a little and Martin had never felt so seen. 
He missed that.
And so, less reluctantly than he would have liked, he extended a hand down to Jon, who looked at it in shock. “C’mon. Let’s get you back downstairs, I’ll make tea.” Make tea. His solution for everything, he remembered Tim deriding. But Jon looked at him like he’d offered much, much more than that. Maybe he had. The hope in his eyes was too much to bear. So when Jon put a thin, scarred hand in his, he looked away, even as he helped him to his feet.
To his disdain and delight, Jon immediately leaned into his side, as if trying to leech warmth that Martin couldn’t provide. In fact it was now Jon who was the warmer of the two- the Eye would not accept the chill of the Lonely, and the fever probably didn’t help. He was like a touch-starved cat looking for a crumb of affection, and god did he want to give it to him. If it were the Martin of a year ago he would have blushed, stammered, maybe even squeezed him back. Now he can only offer him the shoulder, nothing more.
Jon didn’t say anything more than a muttered thanks as they made their way down to the Archives, as if he were afraid of spooking him. More than one staff member they saw stared; Martin had been AWOL except for a few official emails, and was now suddenly the assistant to the head of the institute. To see him with the dreaded Head Archivist must have been even more of a shock. He felt pity- what a pair we make.
By the time they arrived at the archives, Jon had leant almost all of his weight against Martin’s side, making it difficult to maneuver them both down the stairs. No one was there, and he wanted to scold the other three, wherever they were, for leaving Jon to wander in his condition. I’ll fix him tea, get him on the cot and then I’ll go, he promised himself. 
Easier said than done.
He barely managed to pry Jon off of him, and only with the promise to return with a cup of tea did he let go. Never in his wildest daydreams did he imagine Jon to be this clingy, hanging off him like a limpet. As he made his way to the break room he drew the Lonely back to him like a security blanket, albeit a cold one. You can’t stay. You have to go. He looked blankly around the room he used to think of as a safe haven; it was no longer familiar, different mugs on the table, different food in the cupboards, a bag of makeup on the counter. He no longer had a place. 
Jon was sitting up on the cot when he arrived back, cup of tea in hand. He pointedly didn’t meet his eyes as he handed it over, staring at his feet and ignoring Jon’s thanks as he turned to leave. Go go go-
“Wait!”
Damn it.
He turned. “What is it, Jon? I have to-”
“Will you stay?” His face was so open, so vulnerable it made Martin ache with longing. “Just- just for a bit.”
Martin sighed, trying to maintain his stoic façade. “You know I can’t.”
“I miss you.”
“Jon-”
“I know, I know,” Jon replied, voice going quiet. He thought dying would harden the man, but it only seemed to soften his sharp edges. “I’m sorry.” He held the mug between his hands, staring down like it was something precious.
“It’s fine,” Martin replied, though they both knew it wasn’t.
“Will you stay if I don’t talk?” Jon leveled that hopeful gaze at him again and Martin looked up to the ceiling for divine intervention that wouldn’t come. 
“Jon-”
“Please.” He was begging. His eyes were bright, whether from tears or the fever Martin couldn’t discern. But what was he to do, say no? Not when he was like this, not when he was sick. Martin made excuses, none of them particularly convincing even to himself and they certainly wouldn’t be to Peter, but it didn’t matter. He’d already made his choice as soon as Jon said the word.
“Okay. For a bit.” That smile again. Jon said nothing as Martin tentatively sat beside him on that small, rickety cot. He would only stay for a bit, until Jon fell asleep. He had no one to look after him, after all. He would go back up and face Peter later. 
For now, he let Jon rest his head against his shoulder. He let his fingers rise of their own accord and brush the hair from Jon’s face, eliciting a shiver. When he fell asleep, Martin didn’t move. He needs the rest. So he sat, reveling in the warm, heavy weight of everything he’d given up, everything he stood to lose, and knew he made the right decision.
Much later, when he’s faced Peter’s disappointed gaze and a mountain of extra work, he notices the strange, powdery cast on his sleeve from where Jon had laid his head. When he rubs at it, his fingers come back with hints of pink and white. It takes him a moment to put the pieces together- the footsteps in the library, the absence of Daisy and Melanie, the makeup on the counter. He wants to roll his eyes, wants to be angry.
Instead, for the first time in months, he laughs.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581141
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Text
@ninjago-angst-week sorry I'm late!
Day 6: Anger
Kai hates the universe for everything. Surprisingly, his teammates don’t agree.
Or 5 times where Kai lets anger control him, and 1 time he doesn't.
Word count: 13,944
- Nya - It’s been 6 days. Kai has spent all his time at Wu’s Monastery doing nothing but training and passing out from exhaustion. The only reason why he kept going was his love of his sister- and his spite against the universe. First Spinjitsu Master, why had Lord-fucking-Germadon take his sister as a hostage? He was just a poor blacksmith, trying his best to make ends meet and to get a proper education for his bright, 14-year-old sister. But the universe has decided to throw another curveball at him by forcing him to become a ninja and complete this stupid course-
“ARGH!” Kai shouted in frustration as he was thrown off by the training course, again. “Failed,” Wu said and took a sip of his tea. Punching the obstacle course, with another shout, Kai seethed, seeing the colour red dancing all over his eyes. What did the old man know about saving people anyways? Why can’t he just fight Wu and be done with it? Graduate his class, be finally given the location to where his sister is, and end this chapter of his life- because he was all for it.
Looking for his tormentor, Kai noticed that Wu has slipped away, with all the stealth that only a ninja master has.
Taking deep breaths, Kai balled his fists even tighter, nails pressing indents into his palms. Tomorrow. There still was tomorrow. And by god was he going to pass because he won’t let his sister spend another day in captivity.
All he needed to do was complete the training course before Wu finishes his tea.
He had done it. Of course, it took a well-timed sword throw to technically pass, but he was done sitting around and waiting for some unknown force to rescue Nya. Master Wu told him to get a goodnight’s rest as they were going to leave in the morning. Yeah right. As if he wasn’t going to spend this night tossing and turning around again.
He didn’t spend the night staring into the ceiling of the monastery. Rather, he was rudely ambushed by 3 men dressed in black, who actually weren’t as much of a challenge that Kai thought they would pose. Huh, maybe the training Sensei Wu put him through was pretty useful after all.
All praises for the cryptic old man were thrown away once Wu revealed the 3 men to be his students. Seriously? Didn’t Wu just tell him to get a good night’s rest? Kai barely kept the snarl inside him when Wu did his spinjitzu thingy and he suddenly was in an entirely different get-up.
Hey! Kai thought angrily. What’s the big deal? The garment was loose-fitting and a solid shade of red, and whilst red may be Kai’s colour, the garb was still drab-looking and overall, not something Kai would have picked out for himself..
Wu then gave a quick introduction of the 3 men who attacked him, who were probably called Jey, Zain, and Coal. Hey, don’t look at him like that! It’s not like he had the time to go to school and learn Maths and the Ninjago Alphabet. Anyways, they were all, apparently Elemental Masters? Of lightning, ice and earth nonetheless. Now, Kai can understand Earth. And Kai of course can give a testament to fire. But what do lightning and ice have to do with the elements? Shouldn’t it be Air, Water, Earth, and Fire or something along those lines? What was the FSM thinking, naming these the elements of creation?
Just as Kai was about to head back into the monastery and actually catch a few Zs, Wu called to them telling them that they have to protect the 4 weapons of spinjitzu in order to beat Garmadon to them, for the Skulkin must have taken the map that Wu had hidden in the Four Weapons.
“And rescue my sister,” Kai stated, daring anyone to challenge this non-negotiable mission.
“We’re rescuing a girl? Is she hot?” The ninja in blue (seriously, why blue on a ninja? It really does not help his stealth) just straight up asked Kai if his sister was hot. Kai’s first instinct, of course, was to punch Jay hard in the teeth, followed by an elbow straight to his gut. But if he was going to be teammates with this guy, he had to control his urges and only glare at him through the convenient slit in his mask. The blue ninja chuckled nervously as Kai’s eyes bore holes into him.
“Does she like blue?”
“Back. Off.”
“When we find the weapons, we will find your sister. We rise at dawn to look for the Scythe of Quakes in the Caves of Despair,” Wu concluded the impromptu meeting at night, which diffused the tension between Kai and Jay. The fiery anger he felt pooling in the balls of his hands started to dissipate. In fact, most of his energy was gone too. Kai felt like he was sagging under the weight on his shoulders and immediately headed for his room, where he collapsed immediately upon reaching the soft, inviting mattress. It was the best sleep he had in possibly years.
Of course, Sensei Wu upheld his promise of rousing them at dawn to go collect the first Golden Weapon. What he didn’t warn the ninja beforehand was that he was going to use them to be his literal slaves, and Kai spent the morning running whilst pulling a carriage like a horse. This has to be illegal, Kai grumbled to himself. He was starting to be seriously short on breath. Luckily, his teammates seem to at least have some strength and endurance training, so whilst he was stationed at the easy middle, Cole was at the front spearheading the charge whilst still holding conversations like it was no big deal.
“So…huff, how did Sensei find you guys?” Kai panted, wanting to learn more about his teammates.
“Let’s just say if it wasn’t for Sensei Wu, we wouldn’t be seen together.“ Cole started
“I was testing my limits,” Cole gave a brief description of how when he was rock climbing, he found Sensei Wu already at the top of the mountain, drinking tea and offering him a cup.
“I was testing my inventions,” Jay also panted out, and tried to ramble about how he was testing a flying machine and crashed through a billboard (what?) before seeing Sensei Wu, was also drinking tea and offering him a cup. He couldn’t really talk too much, because at this point he was getting tired too.
“And I, was testing myself,” Zane said, whilst recalling how he was practicing to hold his breath underwater for even longer periods of time when he found Sensei Wu sitting next to him at the bottom of the pond, still somehow drinking tea before offering some to him, which immediately led Zane to choke.
“You’re right, if it wasn’t for Sensei, none of us would-” Kai said before Wu shouted at them to stop. They were here.
Immediately, everything felt more real to Kai. The drowsiness that he felt clouding his mind was cleared as pure adrenaline shot through his veins. He couldn’t fail now. Not when Nya’s life was on his hands. All he has to do was to collect 4 Ancient Weapons that have powers and he would be able to face off with Lord Garmadon. Jumping into action, he weaved through the Skulkin that were strolling and working in the area, body moving in autopilot and mind focusing on only one thing: Get the weapon.
On his way to the opening of the cave, Kai spotted Samurai reading the map to the 4 Golden Weapons on a watchtower. Kai immediately took a detour and climbed up onto the roof, where he could see Samukai reading the map.
“What’s the matter with you,” Jay whispered, hitting Kai on the head. Kai shushed him, before returning to watch Samukai laugh menacingly whilst holding the map upside down. Kai wondered how incompetent he was one week ago to have let this guy kidnap his sister. “The Golden Weapon is near,” Zane observed, before taking out a shuriken with a rope attached before looking at Cole for confirmation and then throwing it done, landing squarely in the middle of the map before pulling it back, holding the prize squarely in his hands.
There was no time to waste. Kai immediately backflipped off the building before climbing to the outcrop where 2 guards were stationed. Picking up a convenient lamp head, Kai carefully snuck by the 2 guards before ducking into the cave system. Kai began to start pushing the rock blocking the path to the weapon. But no matter how much he exerted himself, it didn’t move one inch. He felt like he was trying to make a sword again, doing everything he could but still failing. Grunting and groaning, Kai gave it his all.
Not soon enough, Kai heard the footsteps of his teammates.
“Hey, before you race off again, you gotta remember that we’re a team.” Cole’s patronizing voice made Kai stop his futile attempts at trying to push the boulder on his own. Kai looked at the 3 Ninja before sighing. “Yeah, whatever.”
The white, black and blue Ninja gathered around him and they all started to push, actually managing to shift the rock. Giving the rock his all, Kai did enough on his part to be suddenly be blasted by a golden light, shining from the cavern behind the rock. As his eyes got used to the sudden brightness, Kai spotted the Golden Scythe, sitting on top of a weird creature’s head.
“Woah, that is SO COOL!” Jay exclaimed, and his voice reverberated throughout the entire cave. Kai cringed from his volume. Here’s to hoping that the entire skeleton army outside won’t discover them. Cole shushed Jay again, before pulling out the Golden Scythe and jumping back down onto the cave floor. Wrapping it in a sheet of canvas, Cole once again reminded Jay to not be so loud.
“Oh, don’t be paranoid!” Jay brushed off the sentiment. Kai couldn’t believe that this guy was his teammate. “We’re totally on the other side of the caves!”
“Zip it, okay?” Cole admonished the blue Ninja whilst handing the wrapped Scythe of Quakes to Kai. It’s okay with him. As long as he can make sure that this weapon is safe which in turn ensures that Nya is safe, he’s alright with taking the Scythe. “Now that we’ve got the Scythe, let’s sneak out whilst the boneheads are still busy.”
“Alright team, everyone sticks together. Way out is right around the corn-“ Cole suddenly came face to face with Samukai. All Kai could think at that moment was Fuck the blue guy. Because seriously. Now he was going to have to fight these guys. And alright, honestly- Kai was more than happy to throw hands with the skeletons that captured his sister. In fact, he’s been waiting all week to do so. But come on, this guy was supposed to be a ninja? Pulling out his sword, Kai stayed in the middle of his teammates for a bit as they tried their hardest to protect the Scythe, but quickly they were drawn by enemies elsewhere and the red ninja was left in a precarious situation.
“Kai! Throw it here!” Thank god for Zane. Honestly, he took back what he said about how this guy takes things a bit too seriously, now that he was in the heat of battle and could feel every beat of his heart. Kai heaved the heavy weapon to Zane. Immediately, the heat was taken off him and Zane had to pass the Scythe to Cole as he was dog-piled by 3 Skulkin in seconds. Cole made it past a long line of skeletons before catching the Golden Weapon, but Kai could see 5 to 6. no, 9, 10- argh, who cares! Either way, there were too many enemies.
“Let me handle it!” Jay shouted, taking out a couple of enemies quickly, before exclaiming, “Hey! Guys!”
“It’s just like the training course! Over the planks, dodge the swords- here comes the dummy!”
Kai heard multiple enemies being defeated before a bright blue light shined through the caverns as this guy did spinjitzu. What. The. Heck. Kai’s level of respect for him instantly rose.
“Jay! What’s the key?” Kai waved at his teammate desperately. He had to do spinjitzu too- if he ever was going to see Nya again.
“Hehe, I’m just going through the motions! This is what Sensei must have meant when he said we already know it!” Jay laughed from inside his tornado as Kai watch him take down 4 enemies in one second. Kai contemplated this for a moment, before relying on his muscle memory to dodge a couple of Skulkin.
“Over the planks, dodge the swords- here comes the dummy!” Spinning in a beautiful vortex of red, orange, and yellow, Kai saw the world around him slow down as he moved with enhanced power and agility, taking down enemies with incredible ease.
“RETREAT!” Samurai shouted, and Kai could hear the screams of the skeleton army mixing with the beautiful chime of his team’s spinjitzu. Slowing down, Kai stopped his spinjitzu and surprisingly, didn’t feel dizzy. Man, this spinjitzu thing is really cool.
“Hah! Guess they didn’t want a second serving of these babies,” Cole flexed his biceps as Kai and Jay both shook their heads in dismay. “Good thing they didn’t check out the merchandise on the back!”
From the corner of his eye, Kai watched as Cole turned around to emphasise his point. Alright, 2 can play at the end game. Raising the Golden Weapon of Spinjitsu, Kai cheered and high fives Jay. That dude has many faults, but he would be able to have Kai’s back in a moment of need, and Kai vows to watch his back too.
“Uh… guys?” Cole stammered. Kai and Jay rolled their eyes. What was Cole trying to get at now?
“Didn’t Sensei say there was a guardian protecting the weapons?” Zane recalled. Kai tilted his head to the side, before turning to his right AND WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT.
“Is that- a..a, that’s- not what I think it is, isit?” Cole blubbered, his voice an octave higher.
“Y-you mean a dragon?” Jay stammered.
“Uh, that sure looks like a dragon!” Kai panicked, his voice on the edge of a scream.
“I sense that we won’t be able to spin our way out of this one,” Zane stated with the calmest out of any of them.
Out of the blue, the dragon breathed out a breath of earth, and Kai was suddenly flung to the side. Screams filled the cavern as his teammates landed from their dodge. getting up on his feet, Kai immediately started to run towards the exit, clutching the Golden Weapon tightly. Unfortunately, they were cornered, and Kai did the only thing he thought he could.
Removing the canvas, Kai moved to use the weapon but was stopped by Jay, stating something about how Sensei told them not to.
“Well you better keep your mouth shut,” Kai growled as he ran towards the otherworldly creature. Nothing was going to stand in his way from reaching his sister. Cole shouted something at him, but he raised the weapon high above his head and brought it down to the earth in front of the dragon, causing a split in the ground like a fault line and the cave started to shake. The dragon was temporarily rendered stunned as a large piece of rock fell on his head. It reacted too late, for Kai and his team were getting out of here.
“We gotta escape!” Kai said frantically. Looking up, he and his team saw the caverns opening up to the skies. “We’ll use spinjitzu!” Cole proclaimed, and Kai spun into his tornado, finding that the boost in speed and strength was exactly what he needed to make through the opening in the ceiling of the cave.
Landing on the ground in front of his sensei (on both feet, take that Zane and Jay!) Kai immediately devolved into cheering and celebrating with his teammates, because who wouldn’t after such an adrenaline high? They were 1 weapon closer to finding Nya, and Kai had learned the amazing art of Spinjitsu, and he had just escaped from a dragon.
“ENOUGH!” Sensei Wu shouted. Kai immediately felt his mood sinking. “I told you not to use the scythe!!” Of course, Jay, then Cole, immediately threw Kai under the bus.
“Using it was my only option!” Kai said, starting to get frustrated with his teacher and teammates. Couldn’t they see it that was a matter of life or death? He just saved all of their sorry asses!
“And what makes you think that you’re more important than your team? Huh? Huh!?” Wu got closer to Kai’s face, and he was not happy. Not happy with this at all.
“They took my sister, remember?” Kai stated angrily. Who did the old man think he was? Nya was everything to him, and losing her- Kai did not want to think about losing her.
“There are still 3 weapons left. Maybe next time, you can do it right,” Wu admonished him, and Kai could only watch as his teammates follow in their master’s footsteps. Whatever. It’s not like he needed a team. Hoisting the scythe onto his shoulders, Kai swore that nothing, not even the First Spinjitsu himself, would stop him from saving Nya.
Over the course of the next few days, Kai learned of a technique called the ‘Tornado of Creation’ as they journeyed all over north Ninjago and found 2 of the remaining 3 weapons. Just before they headed to the Fire Temple, Wu made them all rest, for some reason he was unwiring to share. Kai privately thought that it was for them to recuperate their energy because his sister was going to be the one they rescue next, and once he got his hands on the Sword of Fire, nothing would be able to stand in his way, his team included. If he was being honest with himself, Kai was grateful that they had time to celebrate his past achievements. They had been through so much climbing, exploring, and journeying these fast few days and they have beaten Garmadon’s Army too many times to not do something about it. His mood was so great that he even invited Sensei Wu to dance with them as Cole played the bongo drums that they had stolen from the skeleton army at one point.
Kai didn’t know when he fell asleep, but what he did know was that he was roused awake by a voice whispering his name. At first, he was groggy with exhaustion, but the second time Nya called out to him, Kai was wide awake. Looking at the source of the sound, Kai saw his sister standing directly at the edge of his camp. Immediately, Kai felt a great wave of relief wash over him. His sister looked, at least in the dark, fine and free from any visible injuries. He was just about to get up and reunite with his sister when she suddenly stated that she had to go, and started to run away from him.
Kai immediately shot to his feet, alarmed. There was definitely something wrong. He followed her as best as he could through the dense forest, calling out to her, but not receiving a reply. He was led to a temple sitting right next to a volcano. Ghostly whispers of his name reached him as he saw his sister’s vague figure entering the temple.
“Nya?” In a heartbeat, he arrived at the front of the temple. Fully pushing open the doors, Kai was blown away by the cavern and the inviting, welcoming warmth of the lava that slowly cranked up the further he went. In fact, it was slowly stifling, and Kai wanted to grab Nya and get out as fast as he could. Looking all over the place for her, Kai saw the image of his sister appear right in front of the Sword of Fire.
“Nya!” Kai said with a smile, running towards the platform. He was praising FSM for this miracle when suddenly, he skidded to a halt as Nya transformed into a large shadow that laughed menacingly. It was Garmadon. And he- was dangling Nya, wrapped in iron chains, on top of a pool of lava.
“KAI!!” Nya shouted desperately. The red ninja called back to his sister, as Garmadon taunted him, stating that only by removing the sword, could he save his sister. And as much as Kai hated the fact- Garmadon was right. There was nothing he could do but take the sword and save his sister. Nya begged Kai not to listen, but the chain had suddenly lowered her even more, and the screams of his baby sister were too much for Kai to bear. Taking a deep breath, Kai did a series of acrobatics pulling out the Sword of Fire and doing spinjitzu on the walls in order to get to Nya, and then to get her to safety on the other side. Landing o the warm rock, Kai pulled his sister up and told her to stay close.
Then Garmadon appeared directly in front of him, and Kai changed his mind. Not long after, he was getting beat up by a shadow- a shadow of all things! Then, Garmadon played extremely dirty and duplicated himself, and in no time at all, Kai lost the sword and Garmadon picked it up. Tired, out of breath, and running on a combined 18 hours of sleep this past week and a half, Kai collapsed and couldn’t move any further.
Just in time, Sensei Wu arrived and started to use his shadow to properly fight Garmadon. As Kai could only sit and watch, he saw Sensei Wu’s incredible usage of shadows, and his respect for him rose even more. But soon, the feeling of calmness turned into panic as he remembered his 3 teammates who were probably out like a light.
Nya gave Kai a hand to stand up, and they both moved to be closer to Wu. Soon, they were assaulted by Garmadon showing them that the Skulkin has taken Kai’s brothers and 3 of the 4 Golden Weapons.
“My brother must not unite the 4 weapons. We must keep them apart!” Sensei Wu commanded, to which Garmadon responded by rousing the dragon guardian. With a swipe of its flaming hot tail, the Fire Dragon blocked the entrance of the Fire Temple. There was no way out.
“He’s taken away all our options!” Kai said, starting to panic even more as the Fire Dragon breathed on them.
“All but one.” And soon, Kai lost his Sensei to the Underworld. Feeling terribly guilty for not being a better student and teammate, Kai collapsed on his knees. However, he was soon confronted with greater, immediate danger.
Luckily, he seemed to be able to talk down the dragon that was guarding the sword. They reached an understanding that they were trying to protect the weapons from Garmadon, and just in time too. He heard his teammates outside the temple and Flare did too, opening the temple dramatically. Too soon, he had to split from Nya again. But he would return in no time at all, with all members on his team.
Through a great load of traveling by dragon, managing to use the Tornado of Creation, and watching Samurai get vaporised whilst Garmadon passed into a portal to another realm, they eventually returned to Ignacia, and Kai could finally feel safe again. Of course, he immediately slept for 3 days straight after making sure that Nya was doing alright and that she could take care of herself for the next few days.
This was not the first time he was fuelled by only his fire, and unfortunately for his body- it would not be the last.
- Lloyd - The next time that Kai could say with 100% certainty that he hated the universe was when Garmadon decided that it was a good idea to turn them into all children. They then had to be saved by Lloyd, his baby brother, but in return- he had grown. Too fast. Way too fast.
And Kai had to look at his failure, his inability to protect Lloyd because it falls on his shoulder to at least stay beside the green bean whilst he deals with the fact that he was older now. And whatever fallout was happening with his body. Because whilst Lloyd can try to insist that he’s fine for the 100th time, Kai is not letting him get out of bed whilst he has a 40 degree fever.
So whilst Kai stews angrily at the edge of Lloyd’s bed, he reflects on all the things he’s going to punch the First Spinjitsu Master for. Honestly, he did not know where the thought came from, but today was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Kai will be honest- he hadn’t always been this friendly with Lloyd. In fact, if he saw someone else doing what he did to the kid when they first met, he would sock them in the eye, no questions asked. (In fact, he wanted to do that to himself now.) But then he got close to the brat. He saw himself in the kid, just- lost without an anchor as Kai had in Nya. And the ‘demon spawn’ became ‘kid’, and ‘kid’ became Kai’s baby brother. Kai’s baby brother who he lost at the arcade just because he was too focused on his ego, going after the damned Samurai who turned out to be his baby sister. Seems like Kai can’t do much protecting at all.
After Kai had rescued Lloyd from the volcano (Fuck you Pythor), it was revealed that Lloyd was the Green Ninja, and would, in turn, have to fight Garmadon And whilst at first Kai felt elated that the search for the Green Ninja was long over, he then felt horrible to see Garmadon and Lloyd falling out as both knew that they had to fight each other. Kai could see Lloyd’s lip tremble as his father released the hug, and almost start to cry when Garmadon disappeared after having saved the Ninja and the fang blades.
He knew that Lloyd had it especially hard, seeking his father’s approval and attention, yet not getting it as Garmadon tried his hardest to delay the oncoming final battle, but furthered it instead. He saw Lloyd look incredibly small in their tiny apartment, and wished that he had just earned more money, or that he had somehow managed to defeat the Great devourer instead of Garmadon.
Yet all he could do was comfort Lloyd when he opens up about Darkley’s (boy, wasn’t that’s something they’d have to unpack in the future) before they returned to the accursed school, or treat Lloyd’s sore muscles before the kid has to inevitably wake up at 5 AM tomorrow to do an insane amount of training.
He hates how all the pressure in the world is hoisted by the shoulders of his baby brother, and he would do anything, anything to give Lloyd a good childhood.
Now, he can’t even do that. Unless the element of time exists, all he could do was count the numbers of a good childhood Lloyd had on one hand. And goddamnit. All Kai really wanted to do was to give Lloyd the childhood didn’t have, not the incomplete one he had given Nya that ended with a kidnapping. Was that too much to ask for?
A drop of a hot tear escaped Kai’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. Quickly snapping his head towards Lloyd, he saw that he’s fallen asleep. Okay, thank FSM for that. Kai did not want Lloyd to see his big brother cry. Now, Kai didn’t want to be a bad brother. But he wasn’t Lloyd’s only family left. He’ll just ask Zane to watch over him as he runs the training course at Dareth’s dojo.
Or maybe not, Kai thought as he sat on the roof, hidden by water tanks and billboards as he had a meltdown. He didn’t even know why he was crying! All he knows is that suddenly, he can’t stop the water flowing from his eyes, even as his own body heat evaporates them as soon as they are shed. His head was still stuffy even though the night air breezed past him. All he wanted to do was to shout, screen- anything to release the tension he’s been building up in his body. Now that he’s reached his breaking point, he was ready to release like a coiled spring.
But he couldn’t. They were living in the midst of Ninjago city, not on the Destiny’s Bounty. And they would get kicked out of their cramped apartment if Kai just shouted at the night skies. So Kai hissed, growled, and wrapped his hands around himself, and squeezed as much as he could. He wanted to fight anybody, be it serpentine, skulkin, Garmadon, or even the First Spinjitsu Master himself.
The air around him got even more suffocating as his fist couldn’t find anything to connect to.
And suddenly, the roof hatch opened suddenly, scaring the living hell out of Kai Smith. Jumping into action and getting into a ready stance, Kai immediately felt the tension dissipate as it revealed that it was just Cole.
“Wow Kai, you must be really wounded up to be spooked like that,” Cole commented whilst giving Kai a smirk. Kai glared back at his team leader before futilely trying to wipe his face clean. Ah well. He tried. Cole snorted. “I always knew that you were a big softy.”
“Got any reason why you came up here?” Kai grunted. His ego had taken enough bruising these past few weeks.
“Of course buddy. I needed to spar with someone at full strength, and since Zane is looking after Lloyd and Jay won’t be able to effectively take my hits, I had to find you.”
“Psh, whatever. You’re in luck that I need to let off some heat too,” Kai shrugged off.
“Cool. Race you to Dareth’s Dojo?”  “You’re on.”
In a few minutes, Kai would come to regret his decision. Hey, it wasn’t his idea to race with the idiot who got himself dehydrated via crying. Still, falling in only just a step behind Cole (It’s been 80 years, Coke joked), he grabbed the energy drink Cole held out to him and take an unprofessionally huge gulp. Man, was he going to feel that later. Still, a promise was a promise, even if it was a verbal agreement. He watched Cole do his warm-up stretches before settling into his own normal routine.
Too soon, they rolled out the sparring mats, and Kai had a fleeting feeling of vertigo. Why had he agreed to this again? Oh yeah. Lloyd’s life is shit, and I can’t do anything. Balling his fists tightly, he started to bounce from on the balls of his feet.
Too soon, he ended up on the mat. And then again. And again. When he was defeated for the 4th time, Cole called for a break and sat down next to Kai, who was lying on the mat and just staring straight into the sky.
“Why did destiny make him grow up so fast?” Kai’s voice was trembling too hard for even Cole’s liking. “It’s not your fault-“
“IT IS MY FAULT! My fault, that I couldn’t protect him! Not from the serpentine, not from Garmadon, not from destiny!What’s my worth as a protector if I can’t even defend the one destiny said I must?!” Kai wailed out, enraged with everything. After his anger outburst, Kai breathed out deeply as his whole body sagged, the tension broken. They sat in silence as Kai contemplated what he was going to do next.
“You know Kai? Maybe you should talk with the Green Bean about this. But just so you know, no one is blaming you for what Garmadon had to do, and in turn what Lloyd had to do in order to save all of us,” Cole responded and stood up. “Thank you anyways for agreeing to spar with me.”
He offered a hand, to which Kai grabbed and was pulled upright.
“You go ahead. I’ll go wipe down the mats here,” Cole stated. It was a regular schedule that they had made up in order to reduce the amount of traffic using their tiny bathroom, and Kai gratefully accepted the chance to go first. If he was going to talk to Lloyd, he had to at least get his spikes up to regular Kai standard.
After doing the bare minimum amount of cool-down stretches, Kai took a swig of the energy drink as he jogged back home. After showering and gelling up his hair, Kai was ready to sit down with Lloyd and just- talk. He finished his bottle and prepared some sandwiches as the sun rose on Ninjago City, showering the apartment in fragmented light.
Just on time, Lloyd returned from his morning run, this time accompanied by Zane. Kai patiently waited for him to be done with his shower before Lloyd sat down right beside him and took out a peanut butter and jam sandwich from the small pile on the plate. Zane gave Kai an acknowledging nod as he went to grab his work bag before going back out the door.
“Hey, bud. How’re you doing?” Kai started tentatively. Lloyd, having just taken a huge bite of the pb&j, looked mildly alarmed at the confrontation, but still answered after finishing the bite.
“…honestly Kai? My bones don’t feel on fire anymore and Zane has said that my fever had gone down through the night. Still, I don’t regret what I had done,” Lloyd responded earnestly before taking another bite of the bread. If Kai didn’tknow better he would have thought that the kid had faced starvation before, because he was still eating as if the food could be taken away at any moment. Keyword: thought.
Kai really wanted to continue the talk after Lloyd had his fill, but knew that Lloyd’s busy schedule didn’t allow for such talks. So, he pushed down all the instincts that screamed that he was a bad brother and gritted his teeth.
“I know that that wasn’t your choice-“
“It was my choice!” Lloyd cut in even though he was still chewing. Gulping down another mouthful of food, Lloyd continued. “… because if I couldn’t even consider that my choice, how much of my life can I say that belongs to me?”
Kai was stunned into silence. In his mind, he didn’t think that Lloyd had thought of throwing the tea like that. He wondered how much Lloyd had been holding in inside of him, how much he had to endure being told by people that he hadn’t had a choice. Thinking back to the time where he couldn’t save Nya without listening to others on what he had to do, Kai felt even worse. Cole was right- he wasn’t at fault for this specific action that Lloyd did, but he was at fault for not being understanding enough, or even approachable enough.
Taking advantage of Kai’s speechlessness, Lloyd finished up his sandwich before reaching into the pile and taking out another, this time picking out a Nutella and cheese combination.
“It’s not just that. Now, I can finally go on missions with you guys. Now, you guys don’t have to hold back on me, and I can train for longer amounts of time. The Final Battle will be on us whether we’re ready or not, and I too would feel much safer if I am prepared to… to face my father,” Lloyd said before continuing to stuff his face with breakfast.
Kai’s brain began to work again, and he formulated a good enough response. “…Alright buddy, but just so you know, you’re still not going on missions with us.” Lloyd’s face immediately formed a pout and Kai grinned, rubbing his blonde hair. “Also, since when did you start speaking like that? ‘The Final Battle will be on us whether we’re ready or not.' Wow, such language. Much eloquence.”
“That’s because you guys gave me 2 hours to spend studying Uncle Wu’s books every day,” Lloyd huffed in annoyance, having finished another mouthful of bread. “But seriously Kai, please don’t be angry for me. It really isn’t your fault.”
Kai mused over those words as he watched Jay trained Lloyd with his acrobatic abilities. Of course, the kid was still getting used to his taller and larger limbs, but Kai could see him improve at an incredibly fast rate. Lloyd was right, in a sense. He didn’t really have the legal right to worry over Lloyd’s physical and mental wellness, but still- he was Kai. Master of Fire, protector of the Green Ninja, and he should be allowed to feel the fuel of his anger at any time he so pleases. If it happens to be an injustice to his trainee and well- who can blame him?
He accidentally fell asleep during Lloyd and Jay’s training, having to catch up to last night’s lost sleep, and boy was that a bad idea. He forgot one of the most important rules within the Ninja’s family: Do not fall asleep when with Lloyd and Jay, because those two can pull some terrible pranks.
Kai didn’t notice anything wrong until he passed Dareth’s trophies and saw that his beautiful hair was not spiked. Kai swore that when he sees those two again, he would chase after them until they begged for mercy because Kai cannot be seen in public with hair like this! Feeling his eye twitch, Kai wondered if Lloyd was going to be the cause of him popping a blood vessel.
Years later, Kai would realise that indeed, Lloyd would give him his first grey hair at 19. That damned brat.
- Zane - When Zane… left the team, all Kai could feel was a sense of numbness. He floated through a fuzzy reality as nothing seemed real to him anymore. His family was in shambles, broken pieces that were scattered without their missing piece completing them. The fact that Zane was gone didn’t really register to him until they had asked Lloyd to do a speech honouring the titanium ninja. Lloyd, face as pale as the gi Zane used to wear, couldn’t say any words, so he volunteered to step up for his brother. Lloyd looked at him with thanks, before disappearing off to whatever world he was in just moments before. Kai joined him, staring aimlessly at their ceiling, before having to get up and pen down words that he was going to say, to honour Zane.
He realised that he couldn’t, really couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t come out of his ink pen, even though he was pretty much literate now. He could only manage to jot down a few words that summarised what Zane was to him. A brother. A teammate. A fellow Ninja. Built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. But words can't do Zane justice. How could he capture Zane's cool-like grace, his calm calculation when it matters most? Zane's amazing cooking, his incredible kindness, and all-around sweet nature? How could he describe his first time meeting him, first time working with him, when he discovered his true potential and saved all of their sorry asses? How could he do all that?
Hot, angry tears dribbled down from Kai’s eyes as he hunched over their kitchen table. No, this wasn’t going to do. Kai decides that he'll just have to wing it.
As soon as he had finished his speech and paid proper respect to Zane, Kai left his family and just wandered around aimlessly, going from bar to bar to drink and inevitably get into fights.
Having been thrown out of almost all bars in Ninjago city for ‘disrupting common services’, whatever that was supposed to mean, Kai soon found himself standing in front of Yang’s Tavern. From what he heard, this place was run by quite a few Serpentine and they had a ‘Slither Pit’. Whatever that meant. What Kai needed to do was to feel his fist connect to something flesh-like, and he will be okay.
Months passed, as Kai found himself falling deeper and deeper into Ninjago’s criminal organisations. Under the name ‘The Red Shogun’, he would remain the undefeated champion, all whilst working for different kinds of bosses as ‘security’. Kai knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he shouldn’t be helping criminals get away with their criminal activity, shouldn’t have let human merchandise go under his nose. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing really mattered after Zane’s death. Nothing had mattered at all. Kai was stuck down in the pits of hell, drinking himself to half-death before the barkeep regulated his intake just so that he could bring in the cash that Kai made through betting, before receiving poor attempts to reach out by Lloyd.
Somehow, the kid had gotten the number of his burner phone. He even sent mail to the bar, to which Kai and his bar buddies had laughed at. Kai didn’t feel too bad for ignoring the kid. Zane’s death was partially his fault anyways. (Nromal Kai would have been horrified to hear him think this.) Kai was angry. Angry that Lloyd didn’t try hard enough. Didn’t try hard enough to defeat the Overlord, when he had a clear shot. Angry that Lloyd had apparently failed to defeat the Overlord 100%. Angry that he had been captured whilst literally wielding the power of God, only for the Overlord to use its incredible power to construct a new body. Angry that Lloyd didn’t try hard enough to keep the team together, to reach out to him, or even to speak at Zane’s funeral.
But above all, Kai was angry at himself. Angry that he had made fun of Zane for his passions and clothes. Angry that he did not try hard enough to train Lloyd, and ultimately failed to be with him in the ‘Final’ battle. Angry that he couldn’t have done his job as a ninja properly, getting captured and tied to a rocket ship which only made them have to try rescuing him instead of stopping Project Arcturus. Angry that he couldn’t do anything when Zane took on the Overlord by himself again.
And Kai was angry at Ninjago. At the world. At the universe. At the First Spinjitsu Master, who had no right to decide that his family had to face the world like that. Angry, and wondering why he was being put through this kind of torture: not being able to live, and yet not willing to die. Kai was a man of action and he had to stay in motion- so his knuckles split. So he goes ‘home’, to the hotel room in Yang’s Tavern, covered in bruises and sometimes even blood- just not his. So he has to take part in crimes, never rising above the level of a security guard, all whilst feeling terrible. He did not know how to get out of this state and feared that if he did, he would collapse into a lump of uselessness.
He fought all day and night, and in the moments where he wasn’t fighting, he was drinking. His sleeping schedule has shifted to between 6 AM and 2 PM. All whilst he kept grieving over a death that was not deserved.
After a year, Lloyd somehow inexplicably showed up on his doorstep, telling Kai to not drink too much ‘juice’ (he rolled his eyes at that and smiled fondly at Lloyd’s innocence) and asked him to show up at Chen’s noodle house where he was holding a meeting with his other teammates.
Unexpectedly, this led to a discovery that instantly brightened Kai’s mood before dampening it slightly. Zane was alive! But they had to fight through… an elemental tournament to get him? At this point in time, Kai was alright with doing anything, anything to get Zane back.
Just 2 weeks later, Kai would hesitantly retract his statement. Sure, they had gotten Zane back, but in exchange, Lloyd had to lose Garmadon to the Cursed Realm. Kai wonders if they’ll ever be able to make it through a fight with everyone intact, but today wasn’t about him. He felt a familiar spark of rage burning brightly through his chest as he watched Lloyd trying and failing to smile. From the corner of his eye, he saw Zane approaching him.
“Kai, can we talk for a moment?” Oh, dear. What is this about now? Was it about how Kai had almost killed their baby brother over a stupid staff?  Or the fact that Kai had very stupidly fallen for the Criminal Mastermind’s daughter? Did Zane find out about his criminal activity?
Well, it wasn’t everything that Kai had thought would happen, although the topic had come stupidly close to the last point. Zane confronted him, making him open up about his ‘feelings’ or whatever, before telling Kai that the alcohol content in his body was too high and that his livers were on the edge of failing. Well. Good to know that Zane is still regular old Zane who’d scan you without permission.
“Kai, all I’m saying is that you are free to tell me anything. To just let it all out -“
“I can’t let it all out!” Kai shouted in annoyance. What did Zane know about grieving- Oh wait. Doctor Julien. Well, what did Zane know about Kai’s specific method of dealing with his issues? He was fine.
“Why not, Kai?” Zane asked with a bittersweet smile. Kai looked around, desperately searching for an answer that he doesn’t have.
“Well- I can’t tell you that! Just know that it’s okay for me to feel angry!” Kai stated very, very eloquently. Zane just gave him a look that said ‘bullshit’. “It’s also okay for you to be sad, and to cry.”
“You’re-you’re wrong!”
“And you’re a hypocrite, Kai. You can’t make Lloyd do the right choices if you aren’t gonna do them yourself.”
“Well- Lloyd’s just a child! A teenager at best, really. Me? I’m a fully legal adult! I can make my own decisions!” Kai seethed. Zane looked sad for a moment, before straightening up and doubling down.
“Whilst according to Mill’s Harm Principle, you’re free to do anything that could harm yourself without damaging others, might I remind you that you’re still a role model for Lloyd, Nya, and even Jay? Please, Kai. If you can’t do it for yourself, at least do it for them.” Zane pleaded. And damn it. Whilst Kai wouldn’t lift a finger to save himself, just the thought of Lloyd doing what he’s done sent a shiver down his spine. Zane was right, as always. He had to be the big brother, and being the older brother means that he has to display healthy habits more. FSM knows that Lloyd would need it. So he sucked up his pride, arrogance, and ego, then threw it all away, metaphorically off the Bounty
He knew that they would always come creeping back to him later, but for now, Lloyd needed a functional older brother, and Kai was going to be exactly what he needs.
“Thank you, Zane,” Kai stated. Grinning, Zane waved Kai on to go save Lloyd, who now looked like he was drowning from some invisible force.
“Lloyd? Lloyd buddy, you there?”
- Cole - Of course, Kai couldn’t stop his blood pressure from reaching a boiling point. How could he? This month had been the worst month for his health since- well, since forever! Who would’ve thought that Wu’s dead first student would escape the Cursed Realm just to possess Lloyd in order to exact an act of stupid, grand revenge because he didn’t get the title of the Green Ninja?
Kai had to fight his baby brother, lose the staff of the First Spinjitsu Master, fail to defeat ghosts, bargain with a stupidcrook for some weapons that were actually effective to ghosts all whilst looking for the scroll of Airjitzu, who guess what? Turns out Ronin had it all along. And he had just handed it to Morro, which caused all of them to go to this cursedtemple, which was designed to be a terribly haunted house, because it just amplified Kai’s fear of water a 100 times more, and all that culminated in a stupid idea where they tied themselves together to not lose track of the other, which caused Cole to lose valuable time when the scroll of Airjitzu was dropped right as they were at the door to the temple.
Spinning around to check on his teammates, he saw a pale green sheen. Just as he was about to raise his weapon, he heard Cole’s voice calling out to them that they had the scroll. And oh. Oh no. No, Kai couldn’t deal with this anymore. He watched Cole realise with horror that now, he was technically dead, and wail.
Kai’s blood vessels were very, very close to popping. Being an alcoholic had not helped with his anger issues, and having faced too many setbacks, all whilst not having any powers or any victories, Kai was prepared to curse the entire 16 realms.
As Nya parked the bounty right next to the floating temple of Airjitzu, Kai could see her face widen in shock and horror at Cole. Fists clenched the tightest they had been in a while (and that was saying something, given that he had failed to protect Lloyd again) Kai could only take over the lead as he herded his teammates onboard the ship.
Cole’s a ghost now. So what? He can deal with that later. For now, they had to beat Morro to the Cloud Kingdom and the Realm crystal if he was going to have any chance of having Lloyd back.
Well, that was a lie, Kai thought to himself after the heat of the moment. Their ship was now charted towards the Wailing Alps, trying to make it as the Blind Man’s Eye passed over the top so that they may use Airjitzu to get the Sword of Sanctuary. And that meant they had time. Whilst Zane and Jay were working on some mechs to help them traverse the mountains, Nya was training with Sensei Wu to unlock her true potential faster, and Misako was packing them supplies. That meant that Kai and Cole were left in the bow of the ship. The air just felt denser than usual, even though by all logic, it should have been lighter due to their high altitude.
Kai watched Cole trying to tap a button on the control board, but couldn’t manage to get his hands to temporarily appear solid. He saw the frustration on Cole’s face grow as he gave up and slammed his hand on the board, accidentally touching on several buttons. Immediately the ship started to list onto the left side. So bracing himself Kai rushed to the position and immediately undid the damage Cole had done.
Cole then let out a scream of frustration. “All I wanted to do was to view the stupid GPS! Why. Can’t. I. Do. Anything. Right?” Cole angrily shouted, punctuating each word with a kick aimed towards the control panel, but never managing to connect. He immediately sunk onto the floor and held his face in his hands.
Kai sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn’t everyone’s go-to when comforting them from anger, but it seems that he had to step up this time.
“Hey, Cole?” Kai started gently. “Yeah?” Came a muffled response.
“I know that I’m not the best person to do this, but I just want you to know that I hate the universe as much as you do, and it’s alright if you wanna just shout and spar with me-“
“Hah! As if I can do anything good with this. Stupid. Body!” Cole replied, voice tense with frustration. Kai frowned.
“I’m serious Cole. And you will get better at using this body. Remember how Morro’s ghost friends had beaten us? Imagine them, not realising that we actually have a pretty powerful member right in their midst. Think of the recon missions you can do as a ghost! Imagine how satisfying it would be to just punch Morro in the nose without feeling bad for hurting Lloyd!” Kai picked a direction and resigned himself to it, smile getting more manic as he realised that hey! Cole’s new body is actually kinda cool. Cole snorted.
“Imagine all the pranks I’ll be able to pull on Jay. And imagine me possessing Mr. Cuddlywump-“ Both of them dissolved into laughter after this thought, each imagining Jay’s terrified expression as Cole’s voice comes out of the teddy bear that he thinks nobody knows he hugs every night.
“Hey- you know that being a ghost would be incredible for your stealth right?” Kai ribbed Cole gently, finding delight that it actually connected. Cole scoffed. “Oh, don’t remind me Mr-I-blew-up-2-trucks-filled-with-jet-fuel-and-thought-that-I-wouldn’t-be-noticed.”
“Hey! It was just one time.” Kai defended himself. “Seriously though, imagine all the cool shit you can do now.”
“Too bad that I won’t be able to eat anymore,” Cole said mournfully. Kai raised his eyebrow. “Nah, this just means that you can eat as much as you want and wouldn’t be scolded by Sensei Wu. Also, don’t we have Hungry Ghost Month right before Day of the Departed?”
“Holy shit, Kai. You’re right! You know, maybe being a ghost isn’t so bad after all,” Cole said with a hearty grin. With a grin of his own, Kai thought to himself that really, being a ghost is no big deal. We have a nindroid as a brother after all! Besides, at least Cole is still with us in, heh, spirit.
Too late did Kai consider the cons of being a ghost. As Cole watched helplessly from the banks of the river that Lloyd was drowning in, Kai had to bite his own tongue to stop himself from screaming as he plunged into the water to save Lloyd from drowning. Too late, after the defeat of the Preeminent, did he see Lloyd flinching from Cole’s touch, which led to a very heartbroken Cole and an extremely apologetic Lloyd. He saw Lloyd trying his best to just endure and adapt to the change, and his heart was filled with anger again.
It wasn’t as bad as his breaking point at Yang’s temple, but he now has a grudge against Morro that runs through the core of his being, like how ‘Nya is my Sister’ and ‘Lloyd is my baby brother’ are the code of his being. Still, victory tasted bittersweet as he gets to finally pat the golden head of hair his brother has.
Kai would be okay to go through anything, as long as he had his family with him.
- - Jay - Family. That’s what Kai’s life has circled back into, hasn’t it? He had fought skeleton armies for his sisters, fought snakes with his brothers, trained the youngest to fight the literal embodiment of evil, went through an entire tournament for one of his brothers, fought with Wu’s student to save Lloyd, and now destiny decides for him to face another whiplash.
His parents. His good-for-nothing parents. They had left Kai when he was 6 and Nya when she was just 3. It had been absolute hell, making sure that they had enough to eat, enough to drink, and enough to wear during the winter. Kai had to start working at the blacksmith shop when he was just 8, trying to find some independence from the goodwill of his neighbours. And whilst he was working odd jobs, being a stable boy, an errand boy, doing some house chores for the minimum wage- he also had to make sure that his baby sister could attend school properly.
He had properly started to work at the forge when he was 12, having sold most of his father’s previous work. Soon, he found ease in making spear tips, armour, and samurai-style helmets. He had been working on doing a good sword when his sister was kidnapped, and his entire life changed as he tried his hardest to bring her back. Since then, he hadn’t gone back to his old home in Ignacia.
But he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Looking at the smithing symbol on the inside of the Vermillion Warrior’s helmet, Kai had to take a quick journey back to his old home, back into his past. Picking up a decade-old helmet, Kai’s worst fears were confirmed.
“I knew it,” Kai said humourlessly as the puzzle pieces began to construct a monstrosity that he never wanted to know. In a fit of anger, he punched his father’s symbol, to which a secret hatch just suddenly opened. Curious, Kai took a look at the basement of the shop, only to see a double-edged blade as well as some old armour. What was he making? Kai wondered, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter now.
With single-minded determination, Kai took the blade, old, and a new helmet, then immediately headed to someone who he knows would understand.
10 minutes later, Kai was sitting at a booth in Chen’s Noodle House, venting out all his frustrations to Skylor, who, bless her, had offered him free noodles as he spilled out his feelings. Of course, Kai didn’t feel much better after doing so, but at least he felt like he wasn’t suffocating anymore. Just as Kai was summarising his rant, incomes Nya, proclaiming something about how Skylor was the mysterious and new Samurai X. Kai’s stomach suddenly started to churn and he gulped. He had to break the news that their parents were still alive to Nya. And whilst that was mean, what Kai learned throughout his years as being a Ninja that being honest with your teammates was the difference between life and death. Funny, he remembered a weird dream that was focused on this exact point. But Kai didn’t have time to reminisce now. All he could do was think of ways of breaking the news to Nya.
Too soon, Kai Smith, no not Smith, Kai had to think of a better surname after this was all over. Anyways, their team has decided upon infiltrating Krux and Acronix’s secret base, which also meant that they will find his traitorous father. Instantly, he felt a searing hot pain radiate from within his ribcage. teeth clenched, fists tightened, he and Nya arrived at the swamp.
He had a single-minded focus on finding his parents and nothing could stop him.
“Kai, I don’t see anything. Give me the map,” Nya whispered. “Hmmm, what even makes you think that Acronix and Krux will be around here?”
“I honestly don’t even care if they are,” Kai said noncommittally and looked around his surroundings. In the distance, he saw a building, right where the blacksmith shop was situated on the map. Heart pounding, he raced up the planks leading up the shop.
Kai was in too deep to stop now, to have second thoughts. Seeing his father’s blacksmith symbol on the door, builds up his resolve to kick the door open.
“I knew it!” anger, like how lava flows down a volcano, seeped into his bones as his father stared at him like he was some kind of stranger. In all fairness, he was. Because what kind of ‘father’ was Ray Smith for abandoning Nya, for abandoning him, all those years ago?
“Who are you? What do you want?” Those words cut deeply into Kai’s heart, etching all kinds of feelings that Kai couldn’t process. Because all he could see. Was red.
“I WANT JUSTICE!” With a war cry, Kai drew out the double-edged blade that his father had watched. But this time, he wasn’t fighting to disarm, to defeat, or to stun. He was fighting to kill.
Running towards the blacksmith, Kai jumped to plunge the blade into his father’s chest, only for him to dodge, Raising another strike, he missed and hit the edge of the forge. Spinning around, his next shot was parried by his father.
Blocked by his father again, Kai gave his old man a chance to explain himself. But what was said was, “You’re red like a Vermillion Warrior. But you’re no snake.”
“No, I’m not, BUT YOU ARE! TRAITOR!!” Kai broke out of his father’s block, spinning the weapon before clashing it with his father’s hammer again. His next few strikes were dodged and a kick sent Kai sprawling over the anvil. Getting up again, Kai swung the weapon wildly, getting dodged before being thrown back by a well-timed shot from his father.
“You messed with the wrong blacksmith, my friend,” Ray said, standing over Kai’s body. hearing those words sent a hot shot of seething fire down to his free palm. Building up a fire in his hand, Kai stood up and spun the double-edged blade.
“Fire power…” Ray thought out loud. Shocked, he could only get out of the way as Kai threw a fireball at him.
“No… you’re certainly not a guard. You’re… my son!” Hearing those words made Kai pause. He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t move. Too many emotions were battling in him, and he could only focus on his father’s next few words.
“Kai! You’ve inherited my elemental power!” his father had actually said that. In joy. Suddenly, his fire was rekindled.
“That’s the only thing I’ll ever inherit from you!” Kai started to move, to continue the fight when suddenly his baby sister screamed for him to stop from the front door.
“He’s a traitor!” Kai explained through gritted teeth.
“He’s still our father,” Nya begged Kai to reconsider.
“Whatever it is you think, I can explain-“
“Yeah… BET YOU CAN!” Kai threw back his left hand, ready to unleash another fireball at his father when a jet of water put his element out.
“Kai, let him speak!” Nya pleaded. “There’s no harm in hearing him out!”
Kai then moved to throw the double-edged blade at his father, who had dodged out of the way. sensing that Nya would just put out his fire again, Kai pounced on his father and dragged him hip by the collar of his clothes, and began to wrestle with him.
“It ends here! NOW!” Overpowering his father, he managed the wrench his left hand free, and pulled it back into a punch.
“Kai, you don’t know what you’re doing!”  “I DO NYA! I ABSOLUTELY-“  “I’m not your sister, son.”
Kai suddenly stopped. His mother… was alive?!
“Huh? M-mom? I-I don’t believe it!” Kai released whatever he was holding as he turned around, trembling.
“That makes the 2 of us,” Maya stated sweetly, and suddenly all the memories that Kai had been oppressing came back- he could see the woman who cared for him, hear the lullabies she used to sing Nya to sleep, smell the floral shampoo and scent of mountain springs that hung around her. He remembers the taste of the food that she had made, and the warm, slender hands that held his own. As Kai watched his mother fuss over his baby sister, his resolve to fight, to seek revenger, crumbled away into pieces.
Removing his hood, he threw his arms around his mother, still smelling the scent of mountain springs, feeling the her skin, folded and cut in several areas, but still warm and firm.
But suddenly, he remembered the snake helmets and of Sensei Wu, and immediately pushed her back.
“Why, she’s as guilty as he is! They’ve been helping Acronix and Krux for years!” Kai seethed. “They’re the enemy!”
“Is that what you think?” Maya reproached. “We are not your enemy.”
“Then how do you explain this?” Kai took up the vermillion warrior’s helmet and showed his father’s symbol to his biological family. “Dad’s blacksmith stamp on every piece of Vermillion armour!”
“They forced us to work for them! Part of their revenge…” Maya rebutted.
“For what?”
“For creating the time blades,” Ray shook his head and creased his forehead. “It goes back a long tie, then Acronis and Krux were still Elemental Masters.”
Ray recounted how Wu had asked them to forge blades made of a chronosteel, a sort of metal that suctions your elemental powers away permanently if you used them to their true potential on the metal.
“We had worked for days and nights. At the end of it all, we were so exhausted, that we could not participate in the fight. But Wu had told us the results of the fights, about how he and Garmadon had sent the Time Twins and the Time Blades into a Time Vortex, essentially having them lost to time.”
“Yet, immediately after the portal has closed, Krux had gotten away. And he had gotten a glimpse of the Blimp too. He now knew that his brother was being sent to the future without him.”
“Now, he had decades to scheme and plan. He adopted the persona of the kindly Dr. Sanders Saunders. He had begun making the first batches of Vermillion out of the Great Devourer’s eggs. And his army would need weapons. Armour. Vehicles.
“So he went looking for us, and we had built a cordial relation with the old man.”
“One day, he suddenly revealed his true colours and held you two at sword point, stating that if we did not cooperate, he would not hesitate to kill you,” Maya said, eyes glistening with tears. “What could we have done?”
Kai didn’t know how to react. He stood there shell-shocked. His parents.. they weren’t traitors after all? The fire of anger fizzled out. “Okay, but what about the stamp?”
“I stamped every piece of my work, hoping that one day, someone would figure it out,” Kai’s father admitted. “So that together, we can stop Krux and Acronix’s plan.”
“What is their plan?” Nya asked. Ray shook his head and creased his eyebrows in fear. “To control all of time.”
That revelation shocked Kai into speaking again. He looked at his father, bruised, dirtied, and tired from their fight before. The feeling of guilt bubbled in his stomach, and Kai had to immediately right the wrongs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Kai began, wincing internally at his bad apology. But Nya- blessed Nya, had saved him by asking about Krux and Acronix’s plan to control all of time.
“They made me design the Iron Doom, a machine capable of transporting the Vermillion warriors through time,” Ray explained, rolling out a blueprint of the iron doom.
“So you built a Time Machine?” Kai asked incredulously. Ray huffed. “No, just the shell. I’m afraid the Time Machines are bit out of my skill set.”
“But Cyrus Borg was forced to design a power source capable of powering the machine by using temporal energy from the Time Blades,” Maya said whilst rolling out another piece of blueprint next to Ray’s this time of some sort of machine.
“Oh no! That must mean that the pause we felt earlier… that must mean that there are 3 blades in the present!” Nya exclaimed. Kai thought out loud that if Krux and Acronix got the blade, there will be only one left. “And if they get that, their time traveling mega armour will be fully operational!”
Kai stared dumbfoundedly at the smile shared between his parents. “Sorry, full operational is… good news?” Man, if his parents could just pick a side already!
“They’ll never get it,” Ray said with a smile. “Master Wu found it shortly after Acronix disappeared. Turns out it had the power to reverse time. Wu knew it was too dangerous to keep, so we hid it, buried deep in a location where only a combined elemental power of Fire and Water can reach.”
“And since you inherited our powers-“ Kai’s mother gasped sharply. “You must leave. Now!”
Ray looked downright alarmed. “You’re right. If Krux and Acronix knew you were here, they could-“
At this moment, the door burst open and time stood still.
“Could force you to retrieve the Time Blade for us? Excellent suggestion,” Krux said with a menacing smile.
“No way! We’ll never retrieve the Reversal Blade for you!”  “You tell him, brother!”
“You will! Or your parents will face the same fate that they tried to protect you from.” Krux countered, his smile stretching impossibly wider.
“We’re done serving you, Krux. Bring your worst!” Ray shouted, charging towards the Time Twins. Kai watched in horror as Krux used the Pause blade to stop his father’s momentum immediately, before giving him a hard kick in the gut.
“DAD!” Kai shouted, watching his father still frozen in place, bouncing on the hard floor.
“Look what I found,” drawled the voice of Commander Machia, wheeling in-
“Master!” “Wu!’
“You know, it occurs to me that the Reversal Blade is the only way to undo Wu’s Time Punch.” Acronix grinned.
“I…I’m afraid that’s true,” Kai’s father said, having gotten out of the pause effect.
“If you want to save your master, you’ll have to retrieve the 4th blade.” Krux walked even closer to Kai, before snatching away the double-edged blade. “And I’ll take that.”
Lightning flashed over the skies, creeping in tendrils and thunder boomed, rocking the ship. Kai and his family were stuck on a ship, not able to help his other family back at the swamp to fight off a whole swamp’s worth of snakes! And to top it all off, he had to retrieve the 4th Time Blade for the Twins, directly enabling Krux and Acronix’s plan!
Kai felt anger in the many hot drops of rain the fell onto his skin. But he couldn’t afford to lose himself here, he and Nya would have to work together, get past all the challenges and get the time blade, save Wu and get out of here!
Yet, once he and Nya had returned to the ship, the blade was immediately knocked out of his hands and his father took another Time Punch. Just as he was about the throw hands with the Time Twins, he was hit with a jet of brilliant red light, trapping him a Pause as he could only see the ship moving away from underneath him. They barely had the time to pull up their fusion dragon before heading back to the swamp.
Upon their arrival, they saw the Time Twins enter a temporal vortex. They had to follow them. There was no other choice.
A long, tiring battle in the past 40 years ago had taken its toll on Kai and Nya. They had managed to reverse the Time Punch on Master Wu (though Kai wonders if maybe Nya used a bit too much) and they had managed to drive Acronix and Krux back into the Temporal Vortex, this time actually sneaking aboard the ship and trying to remove the Time Blades from the engine of the Iron Doom.
Unfortunately for Kai, he just couldn’t lift the Reversal Blade, but Sensei Wu had. Throwing the Time Blade to him, Kai almost didn’t register Wu telling them to use the blade of Ray before throwing both of them out of the time stream and back into the present.
After had used the time blade on his father, Kai and Nya were tasked with Master Lloyd’s command to return the Reversal Blade to its place in the Boiling Sea. Of course, Kai had complied, adrenaline still fuelling his body. And yet when all was said and done, Kai collapsed upon reaching the Temple of Airjitzu.
The days after Kai and Nya returned to the present without Sensei Wu were some of the worst. Kai felt like he was over bursting with emotions. Guilt, grief, and anger clouded his mind over the loss of Wu. Joy, confusion, and deep-seated anger clouded his heart over his parents. Kai didn’t know how to deal with everything. He couldn’t really talk with his previous confidence, he couldn’t move without double guessing himself, and his decision-making skills were in pieces, grounded into a fine dust.
Does he reconnect with his family or not? What could he do the aid the search of Sensei Wu? Are Nya and Lloyd doing alright? Cole seems to be the hardest hit out of all of them, maybe he should go check on him?
Lying on his bed in the Temple of Airjitzu, Kai couldn’t muster his strength to well, do anything! He just needed some time to just… process, everything that had happened in the past month. His parents, of course, had given him some space, and just said that when he’s ready to contact them. Kai thinks that they also didn’t know how to deal with his situation and just took a cop-out. Or maybe they just wanted to breathe fresh, non-swamp-sewer air and tour Ninjago after being in captivity in 10 years. Honestly, who knows?
Lloyd had walked in and provided a brief source of relief for Kai, but too soon had he walked away, going back to his training. Kai saw his baby brother’s eyes sporadically turn green, infused with his element, in just 3 days. Kai would have joined him too, doing whatever hellish program he had set up for himself, if he wasn’t just ambushed by his feelings whenever he tries to get up, wondering if that was even the right choice. He certainly felt that it was his fault that he lost Sensei Wu, and now his kid brother had trained so hard that his eyes became green just to find Sensei again.
Nya was dealing with her own reconciliation with his parents and sometimes offered Kai a shoulder to cry on. Mostly, she was by herself, as Jay had told Kai to ease his worry. Still, his worry for Nya is topped only by his worry about the future.
Cole had also been hit hard by the loss of Sensei Wu and was shutting himself in. Zane was still trying to spend time looking for Pixal throughout the Bounty and any of our other bases of operations, trying to tracer her down.
That left Jay, who really, was as much of a help as a hindrance to Kai. Hanging out with Jay meant that Kai soon developed a terrible sense of humour, an arsenal of horrible puns, and way too many prank ideas. Jay had made sure that everyone was fed, watered, and in some cases- slept. Of course, being the responsible one for once meant that Jay had to bully his most stubborn teammates into taking a break, or having some food.
“MOOOORRRRNNIIIIIINNG!” Kai was once again woken up by Jay’s terrible screeching. Turning to face the wall, Kai pushed a pillow on top of him just so he could remain in the land of sleeping for longer. No such luck.
“KAAAIIIIII! GET UP!” Jay, screamed as the door to his room flung open. Aw man here we go again, Kai grumbled to himself.
“So what would you like to have this morning? Eggs and bacey? Toast with jam? How about-“
“How about you shut up and leave me alone!” Kai shouted, irritated by the perky tone that Jay has adopted. Watching Jay’s smile become less bright and more forced, Kai couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sitting up and rubbing the base of his neck, Kai apologised for his outburst. “Sorry, Jay- it’s just that I need some time, alone.”
Jay nodded solemnly, before sitting down at the edge of his bed. Kai watched as Jay took a deep breath before saying his piece.
“I know Kai, but… Nya… she needs you. You have got to fix your relationship with your parents, or at least start on the first step. I’m going to be honest: I’m not good with people like you are. I don’t know how to get Lloyd to rest, because he’s going to break his body this way. Don’t get me started on Cole, who won’t open up to me at all. And I can’t out logic Zane. He keeps saying that since he’s a robot, he doesn’t need rest as we humans do.”
Kai stayed silent for a while, mulling over Jay’s words. Truth is, if he could, he would have done so already. What did Jay know about these kinds of relationships, anyways? In fact, when compared to everyone else on the team, Jay has the best relationship with his parents. So what was the point of this? Kai felt his hands curl up into a fist, bunching his bedsheets. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he breathed out to calm himself down before he could impulsively do something he’d regret.
“No can do, Jaybird. I don’t even know where to start,” Kai said regretfully. Kai honestly expected for Jay to slink out of his room, to go pester Nya to try or to get Lloyd to see sense, or to even get his best buddy to open up about his troubles. Kai did not think that Jay seemed to double down, taking several huge gulps of air, and one the edge of hyperventilation. He saw Jay’s hands tighten into fists before he spoke in a trembling voice.
“Kai… did is something that I really, really don’t want to share. It’s something that I keep wanting to erase out of my memories. But I can’t, because no matter how much I try to see it as just a prank- it’s the truth. I’m… adopted,” Jay finished in a hushed whisper. Immediately, Kai sat up straighter. He hadn’t heard this before. “Please, please, keep this a secret, Kai.”
“…so, when did you find out?” Kai whispered back.
“It was at the height of our popularity craze right after stix. A letter had come in, about how my father had died. Immediately, I went off to my Ma and Pa’s scrapyard, but it turns out that I had been adopted, and that my biological father was… Cliff Gordon,” Jay’s teeth had begun shuddering as tears came leaking out of his eyes.
“Oh,” That’s all Kai could really say. I mean, how were you going to reply to that?
“Of course, I felt all sorts of different emotions at first. Relief that my Pa didn’t die, confusion at why I was abandoned on my parent’s doorstep, realisation why neither of my parents had elemental powers, and eventually gratitude because my biological father had written me into his will.”
“But Kai, you don’t just easily forget the feeling when you thought that your parents died. I’m sure that if Cole was himself right now, he would have knocked some sense into you.” Jay stated with a small smile. “Our lives as Ninja are really, really dangerous. Yesterday, we lost Sensei Wu. Tomorrow… well, let’s just say that as a Ninja, you have to cherish time with your loved ones. Don’t put off tomorrow what can be done today.”
And Kai seriously was lost for words. Jay was… 100% right. There were no faults, no counterarguments. Danger was a Ninja’s job description, and too soon he could leave this realm without patching things up with his parents- his parents had almost done so too when his father had been struck by the Forward blade. If he couldn’t do it for himself, and his parents- well, he could do it for Nya’s sake.
Suddenly energised, Kai stood up.
“Thank you, Jay.”
And off he went to call his parents, checking in on them, holding a conversation that had a semblance of normality. They had talked about safe topics, about interesting areas Ray and Maya had visited, about Kai and Nya’s adventures, and about Kai’s team, Sensei Wu- anything, really.
Tears of joy fell down his cheeks before he decided to barge into Nya’s room, throwing open her curtains and rousing her from her slumber.
Because now, they had a chance. They could reconcile.
And then they can find Sensei Wu.
- Kai - It was their first machine in 6 months, and Kai had managed to lose his powers. Again. This time, however, the warmth and fiery spirit that Kai could always cling to were gone as well. He had always felt utterly powerless without his fire. But without his anger? Kai was more than useless. He couldn’t even defend the civilians from the fire snakes, because he was out of shape as well and had to rely on Jay to save him. Jay!
Severely discouraged by this fact, he told his team to just ‘go ahead without him'. He would not be of any help to them anyways. He would only add more onto their already full plate as they would have to focus on defending him too.
Slumping next to an overturned car, Kai hid his face in his hands. What if he never gets his powers back? Would they hate him? Forget him? Maybe he could become The Red Shogun again, maybe pilot a mech as Pixal does.
Kai’s jumbled thoughts were interrupted by a kid (seriously, how many disasters have Ninjago faced to let people carry on their normal lives whilst it’s raining fireballs?) handing him a journal, stating that Kai was his favourite Ninja and could he please, please sign his notebook?
“Sorry kid,” Kai huffed out. “I’m not really a ninja without my powers.”
“Well then, why don’t you go help your teammates?” The kid, Max asked.
“Because, I’m useless, that’s why!”
“Well- if you don’t help the ninja, I will!” And with that, Max stormed away and started to head for the scene of danger. Kai called out to him futile to come back and resigned himself to his fate. Picking up the notebook, Kai saw a cartoonish sticker of him in his ninja mask at the front, before coming to an epiphany.
His teammates didn’t like him for just his fire. Nor did the Ninjago citizens. He carried everyone’s hopes and dreams on his back and he can’t just turn around now and leave him to face the enemy alone!
What was he thinking?
Immediately, Kai rushed down the street to the Ninjago Museum of ancient artifacts.
Kai didn’t always have to run red hot. He didn’t need to perpetually be angry. Sometimes, it’s okay to mellow out. But now is not the time. Now, he has to save his family from one crazy snake lady who was fuelled only by revenge.
Kai couldn’t just be fuelled by his anger. Facing off with Aspheera taught him that. Being angry all the time was exhausting when he inevitably turned off the switch. Anger clouded his thoughts, made errs in his judgment, caused him to be impatient- all whilst ignoring the important parts of his life- his family. And from now on, Kai would only tap into anger when it was absolutely necessary. What matters the most to him isn’t feeling invulnerable, like nothing could hurt him, especially if he was protecting his teammates. Rather, it was the job that Kai had to do. Emotions in battle are a tricky thing, but all the times he observed Lloyd setting aside his feelings for the greater good had made Kai realise that emotions can be easily goaded. Manipulate, by enemies such as Chen and Harumi.
In a life or death situation, Kai couldn’t just rely on his feelings. He had to embrace his moral code, the values that he holds dear, and act upon them, even though it may seem impossible at times. And he shouldn’t get frustrated with his team.
Kai may be angry, but the only time he’ll properly deal with his emotions will be when the battle is all over, and then he will learn how to compartmentalise, how to sort through his emotions. Maybe he’ll take up blacksmithing part-time again.
All Kai knew that was in this instance, he refused to let his life be ruled over uncontrollable feelings, mostly of rage. He was the master of his own emotions.
And nothing will stop him from helping out his team.
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toothpastecanyon · 3 years
Text
We Creatures, Chapter 1
When Alcor felt Mizar calling to him, he came to help. Perhaps, this one time, he should have stayed asleep.
See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.
______________________________________________________________
    Sometimes Alcor the Dreambender was a terrible name, a name spoken by doomsday cults, by grieving widows, by pale newscasters over aerial shots of burning rubble. Sometimes Alcor the Dreambender was a soft name, whispered by children who’d found an unlikely friend.
    And sometimes, it was neither. Sometimes Alcor the Dreambender came out of a bad period, and into a quiet period. He didn’t feel like himself, but he’d gotten bored of the violence, bored of the blood, bored of the world, and for a few centuries he’d just… let it be. He’d sit in the fields of his Mindscape, close his eyes, and rest.
    When he felt like this, only a very special call could wake him from his slumber.
Alcor…
    A wing twitched.
Alcor…
    A brow furrowed.
Help me.
An eye opened.
    That felt like Mizar.
______________________________________________________________
    The smell hit him first. It was rank, wet, and pungent like he was standing knee deep in a sewer - and looking around, it seemed very much like he was. Dirty concrete and trash-filled water was all he could see in either direction, and the ceiling was so low his hat was phasing through it. Alcor wrinkled his nose at the mixture swilling around his leggings; he considered just leaving now, returning back to his comfy rest, but-
    “You came.”
    A voice. Her voice. He turned, and saw her standing beside a rough circle scratched into the curving walls. Her face looked strange to him for a second, but… wow. She looked a lot like Mabel.
    “I didn’t know if you would,” she continued, and her voice sounded like Mabel too, didn’t it? “These haven’t worked in over a hundred years.”
    Alcor didn’t know what to say. Maybe he’d forgotten - it was a long time since he’d last spoken. Mizar didn’t wait for a reply.
    “Listen: you have to help me. There’s these - these elves, they think I killed one of their own.” Her fists balled. “I didn’t do anything, but they’re hunting me. You can’t let them get to me.”
    Alcor blinked slowly. Help. He… he could help. He reached out a hand - and frowned when Mizar recoiled.
    “No, no teleports! They’ll, they’ll track the signal, don’t touch me. Just help me lose them, okay?”
    There was something missing, here. Something he needed. Almost on cue, Mizar started fishing something out of her sweater.
    “Hold on, hold on… here it is!” She opened her hand, revealing a tiny crystal twinkling on her palm. “One pristine elder dewdrop. Closest thing to a soul I could give you - just this much could turn New York into the Amazon.” A grin. “So, we doing this?”
    For a moment, Alcor just stared at her. He stared at her brown eyes, at her long flowing hair, at her bright sweater and skirt. He stared at the freckles on her cheeks, and the jangly bracelets on her arms. He stared at her hand, outstretched to take his, and reached out-
    “Hey, we agreed, no touchy.” She stepped back. “Deal?”
    Alcor parted his lips.
    “D̳̭̹̺̲̠̪̼́e̡̯̮͝a̹̥̜̘ͅl, M̰͝i̞̝z͕̙̞͙a͖̥̮̖̗̯͈͝͡r̜̰̗̹ͅ.”
        The sound echoed down the tunnels, and Mizar wrinkled her nose.
    “Real master of subtlety, aren’t you. Well, a deal’s a deal, soooo…” she turned, and tossed the dewdrop over her shoulder. “follow me, big guy.”
    And off she waded, wet trash piling over her white socks. Alcor didn’t quite float behind her as much as he was behind her; he willed himself to always stand a few feet behind her as she moved forwards, and the edge of his shoes clipped through the concrete as the tunnel took a turn.
    After a little while, Mizar glanced back in amusement. “I take back what I say about you being loud,” she said. “I keep having to check you’re still there. That’s a neat trick.”
    Alcor stared at the shine in her eyes, at the little snort she gave.
    “Not a talker, are you?” She turned back, and stepped over a large mound of filthy tissues. “Eh, that’s okay with me, I don’t need you for talking.”
    Talking… Alcor remembered talking. He remembered sitting with his Mizar for hours, talking about emotions, about favourite shows, about grief, about dinner. He frowned at the back of her head.
    “Mizar?”
    “Oh, great. Shouldn’t have said nothing - what?”
    “What’s…” He paused, and thought. “Why… Do you like…?”
    Mizar waited for him to finish, but when nothing came out, she chuckled. “Jeez, you okay, man? You sound like me when I wake up.”
    “Wake up…” He nodded. “Wake up. I wake up.”
    “Wish I could offer you a coffee.” She chuckled. “Anway-”
    “This is-” Alcor frowned. “We’re… running from elves?” He rubbed his head. “I don’t remember them doing this to humans… hunting humans. Why are they-”
    Mizar stopped. “Hold that thought,” she said, and pressed an ear to the concrete. “You hear that?”
    He listened, and he could hear everything. The trickle of water, the hum of a nearby powerline… the flap of a butterfly’s wing on the other side of the planet.
    “Yeah…” Mizar said, nodding. “That’s the sound of you not talking. I like it.”
Alcor watched as she straightened.
“Not trying to be rude, man. But elves can hear you from the surface, so shut up and keep up.”
______________________________________________________________
It was a couple hours of slow, silent, walking, and Alcor was starting to remember why he’d left this human world. The drudgery, the boredom, the sheer human waste he was literally trudging through… what did he like about helping people, again? And where were they going?
    He’d tried to ask, but the most he’d gotten out of her was a “Zip it.” By the way she was navigating the tunnels, though, they were definitely going somewhere; his omniscience wasn’t cooperating on where, so he resigned himself to finding out when they got there.
    He even closed his eyes a little, letting the tether between their souls take him along for the ride. He thought of the soft grass in his Mindscape, and prayed that he could return to it soon.
    Soon…
    “Wake up.”
    Her voice. Alcor opened his eyes, and saw her climbing out of a culvert. She offered a hand - and then quickly retracted it.
    “Come on, this, this way.”
    Alcor climbed out, and found himself standing at the beginning of a little moonlit creek. From the sounds of it there was a highway not far away, but Mizar was stumbling into the forest.
    “Hey,” Alcor frowned. “Uh, shouldn’t we be going away from the forest? The elves-”
    “Shut up!” Mizar snapped. “Shut up, will you!”
    Her hands were shaking, he noticed. He watched her clasp them together, like she was restraining herself.
    “Sorry, just…” she started, and then sighed. “You’re… a lot right now, I need to - I… Just trust me, okay?”
    Alcor cocked his head. “Are you okay?”
    “Just trust me,” she muttered, hobbling past trees. “Just trust me…”
    Frowning, he did follow her. They seemed to be walking some sort of overgrown trail; ferns had definitely broken it up, but he could see the way it still cut through the trees. It wasn’t long until they came upon a small shack in the woods; this too looked abandoned, but by the way Mizar started forwards, it was where they’d been headed.
    “Mizar-”
    “Wait! Wait there. Wait there.” Mizar was biting her knuckle. “Wait there, please. Trust me.”
    His frown deepened. Something was definitely off about this… but he was letting her go, wasn’t he? He heard the door slam, and stood there a little awkwardly. There was an old firepit in front of the cabin, and two mossy logs opposite each other. They were probably benches, but they were damp and slippery… no one had been here in a long time. He looked up at the black sheets covering the cabin’s broken windows.
    Not to camp, anyway.
There was a noise as the door creaked open. Mizar strolled out, hands in her pockets.
“Alright,” she said. “Sorry about that. Anyway, we better keep going.”
“What was in there?”
“Hmm?” Mizar smiled wider. “Oh, just an old shed. Had to get some supplies.” A pause. “You can take a look if you really want to, but there’s nothing in there.”
Alcor hesitated, and then took a couple steps towards the shack. He noticed the smell as he got closer - sewage - and the wards. They were uncomfortably strong, and kept him from looking in until he opened the door, and saw…
...Not much at all. There was an old table and a bed, but the only truly unusual thing was the two piles of magi-orbs sitting in the corner. There was a small pile of working ones, but the other, larger stack was all defunct; their screen had cracked or gone foggy, and they were covered in grime.
“Find any bodies?”
Alcor glanced over at Mizar, who was waving at him from the trees. He made a face, and then closed the door and floated back over to her.
“Glad you got that out of your system. Now come on.”
“What were all those magi-orbs for?”
“It’s a side business, I fix ‘em.”
“In an abandoned shack in the woods?”
“I like the solitude.” Mizar bared a smile at him. “Speaking of solitude-”
He reached out and grabbed her arm. He felt her stiffen, and then relax… and nothing more than that.
“Do you mind?”
Alcor was frowning as he took his hand away. “You’re… strange. You’re hiding something.”
“If you say so.”
“I know why the elves are chasing you.” He felt the dewdrop in his pocket. “Your end of the deal… you stole that from them, didn’t you?”
Mizar shrugged.
“Why would you do that? How did you do that?” He rubbed his head. “You… I wasn’t thinking about it earlier, but you’re just a human, how on Earth did you-”
“Shh.”
“No, don’t shush me this time, I-”
“Shut up.”
Mizar had gone very still, and that was when Alcor noticed the forest had gone absolutely silent. There wasn’t a cricket to be heard; in its place was something ancient, something angry, something… watching him. He locked eyes with Mizar, and her subtle nod said everything.
They were here.
Alcor didn’t see a knife coming until it opened his throat. He whirled around, and a shadowy figure was there - no, gone, and vines were erupting around his feet. It was strange magic, harder to break, and he gave a roar before incinerating it with a blast of blue fire.
Now he looked for elves, and he could see four souls shining bright as day as they were pinning Mizar down. He launched himself at one and tore its throat out, relished in the gargled cry it made. Oh, this he missed. It was- ack!
Magic… magic that hurt. He fixed his eyes on the elf that had come from, and-
A blade erupted out of its belly. Alcor could see its aura flash with surprise, and as it fell he saw another elf standing behind it. Mizar was standing beside it, smiling.
“Good, you got it. Excellent.” She spoke in perfect elvish, and hefted one of their blades. “You’re bleeding. Stand still, let me…”
And she lopped its head clean off. Its body hung there for a second, then dropped to the ground, spurting and convulsing. Mizar stared down at the body with an unreadable expression.
“Mizar?”
Almost unconsciously, she traced her finger across the bloodied blade, brought it close to her lips. Alcor made a tentative step forwards.
“Mizar?”
“Huh?” Mizar looked up, and saw him. “Oh… some fight, huh?” She tossed the blade away. “Saw what you did to that guy - glad you’re on my side!”
“Yeah…” Alcor traced his eye across the battlefield. He’d downed one elf, there were the two he saw Mizar take out… and there was the fourth one, lying some ways away, still breathing. He could see a deep, sucking chest wound, like a bear had slashed him down the middle, and next to him was a strange shattered visor.
All of the elves had been wearing those - it struck him how strangely… artificial they were, compared to their enchanted bark armour and bone-carved swords. He made to pick one up, but-
“Hey, no time to admire your work, we gotta move!” Mizar glanced over at him. “Oof, is that one still alive? Poor guy.”
Alcor looked at her, then back down at the elf. It… he looked young for an elf, and scared. He was staring up at Alcor with wide eyes, shaking his head, trying to speak through the blood pooling in his lungs…
Alcor closed his eyes. He snapped his fingers once, and when he opened them, the soul had left. It was just a body, now.
Just another petty mortal he’d killed, but it wasn’t quite as fun anymore. The pit in his stomach - was this his conscience coming back? It had been a while, for sure.
There was a hand on his shoulder, and he saw Mizar standing there with him. When he met her eyes, she gave a little smile, and motioned him to follow.
She stepped over his body and continued forwards. After a moment, Dipper stepped around, and followed.
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wildlyglittering · 3 years
Text
The Ones Before
Happy Sunday everyone!
Thank you again to those liking, re-blogging and commenting on my fic’s, I really do appreciate it. 
I’m loving all the ACOSF inspired fic’s and fanarts that are being produced - and definitely all the critique!!
I hope you enjoy!
***
A hand pressed against his bicep as a low, husky voice murmured in his ear.
“General.”
The owner of that voice, an attractive red-haired female, placed a glass of dark liquid in front of him and squeezed her fingers around his arm.
Cassian’s muscles automatically flexed and the voice turned into a breathless giggle. “On the house,” she whispered, her mouth moving closer to his ear. Perhaps it was his imagination but it seemed that she had pushed her breasts against him so he would feel their firm swell against his shoulder.
He turned to her with a smile so charming that her face lit up like solstice lights. “Thank you,” he said, “but I can’t accept.”
Those ruby red lips of hers turned from a grin into a pout and once upon a time Cassian would have eased her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before asking if there was anything he could do to put a smile back on her face.
Once upon a time. Not now.
Despite his rejection, she was undeterred.
“It’s our finest liquor, General. It’s incredibly silky as it goes down.” It was definitely not in his imagination that he saw the twinkle in her eye.
“I’m sure it is,” he said with a wink, “but let me rephrase myself – I won’t accept.”
The twinkle, much like the smile, disappeared. She frowned before snatching the glass and storming off, Cassian catching her stamp her foot as she left as though she were a petulant child and not a fae of likely over a century old.
Cassian chuckled and turned back to the table, picking up the drink he had. The beverage was sickly sweet and made from fruits that were imported into Night from Spring. It was Elain’s favourite and not at all Cassian’s. There were times when he missed the sharpness of wine or the spice of whisky but he reminded himself of what he gained by no longer drinking.
Early winter had come to Velaris and the city was bustling, its occupants rushing around hard at work or preparing for the solstice. Cassian was doing neither; a rare idle day off had lain ahead of him when he’d woken that morning.
The skies had been a bright, albeit pale, blue to start but had grown steadily gloomier before turning into an ashen grey with fat clouds that poured the rains down. The rain wasn’t the soft kind but the sort that smashed against the stones with such force that drops rebounded from the ground and back into the air.
A misty haze drifted around the footsteps of all the rushing fae, their shrieks filling the street as those without coverings ran for shelter from one building to another.
Cassian had been caught out when it started. The first rumble of thunder occurred when he was crossing the bridge and he looked down to see small droplets on the back of his hand. He stood, watching as the rain lashed into the river, mesmerised by the circles the drops created. His hair was drenched and he shook the strands around his head, laughing.
Storms never bothered him, the only reason he moved indoors was because he took up too much space outside for those who didn’t find getting soaked as delightful as he did. That, and his pending companion wouldn’t be too impressed to be made to hang around in the rain.
The café he settled in gave him a decent view of the streets and a prime view of the bridge ahead. Rainwater dripped from his hair when he tied it into a bun and he’d ordered himself his drink, delivered by an older female who wasn’t remotely interested in Cassian.
Fresh warm bread scented the place as the waitresses carried large slices, liberally buttered and served with thick broths in deep bowls, to surrounding tables. Despite the smell, he was content to drink his cordial and observe the world beyond the windows.
The clinking of plates from the table next to him drew his attention and he looked over to see the red-haired fae clearing crockery for the next customers. Although she was working, she was clearly keeping an eye on Cassian, probably waiting to see if he’d change her mind at her offer.
With her coquettish glances and the angle in which she now exposed her cleavage, it wasn’t only a drink she was offering.
A time existed once, when he would have charmed her and they would have removed themselves into the backroom of the café or even a room in the apartments above. Because he was the General, they would never have been reprimanded even if it left the café one employee down.
Admittedly something about the serving fae had captured his attention. Yes, flirtations from an attractive female were always flattering but he had entertained her smiles a bit more than he should have done in the circumstances.
The thrashing of the rain grew louder when the door to the café opened and a fae couple walked in laughing about their soaking clothes. The red-head walked past Cassian to greet them and as she did, her dress deliberately slipped, leaving a pale freckled shoulder to his view.
A memory flashed through Cassian’s mind and in an instant, he could place why she captured his attention so. It was a memory so dusty on the shelves of his brain that he was surprised it was even in the archives.
He was centuries old and he’d spent that time in a variety of ways. Chasing after attainable and unattainable females and fucking a fair few was very much on the list.
But everyone, even he, the fierce Lord of Bloodshed and General of the Night Court’s armies had to begin somewhere.
He’d lost his virginity not to a fellow Illyrian but a fae. She hadn’t been a female of strength or status and considering as Cassian was a bastard runt at the time, he couldn’t have even fathomed those females would ever be an option.
There had been a war. There was always a war.
The troop of Illyrians were on the outskirts of the Night Court and were setting camp around one of the smaller towns. A tavern with warm lights and a warmer hearth was tucked into one of the streets and he was sick of sleeping in the filth. The mud oozed its way into his fingernails and onto his hair and worryingly close to the fresh, open wounds he’d sustained while fighting.
Cassian had fought an Illyrian, broader and older than him and one that would have been stronger too if Cassian hadn’t been desperate. Cassian had pounded him into the ground, knuckles connecting harshly with bone, until the male had acquiesced, giving up the three gold coins Cassian wanted.
He’d sloped off to the tavern after his win, to bathe his body and tend his wounds in one of their boarding rooms. He wanted a decent night’s sleep someplace clean and comfortable and, if he’d had any coin left over, a hot meal.
The Illyrian’s in the tavern were either already in their own boarding rooms for the night, passed out in front of the drinking room fire or still drinking in darkened corners. If they saw Cassian, they paid him no mind, he was a tall thing with growing muscles but still on the wrong side of scrawny.
The only fae that looked at him was the female behind the bar.
She looked to be his age but where his skin was dark, hers was fair and where his was a mottled collection of yellow and black bruises hers was as smooth as cream. She had a mass of red hair which tumbled past her shoulders.
“What will this get me?” he asked and placed the coins on the counter.
She’d told him about a small room at the back he could take and the rest would pay for some slices of mutton. And that was all, she stressed, nothing else.
Cassian merely grunted at her, too tired and hungry to care about anything else that she may have implied.
They must have been used to Illyrian guests as their smallest lodging was still room enough for him and his wings. The bed took up most of the space and a narrow window gave him a view of the courtyard he didn’t care to see. When the food was ready the same red-haired fae brought it up to him and told him she would collect the plate in an hour.
Cassian tore into the meat and bread like a starved animal and when she came back to collect the plate as promised he nodded his thanks and carried on with his task. She’d paused by the door, hesitating.
His leathers and shirt were off and he sat, bare chested on the bed wrapping gauze around his middle with inexperienced hands, cursing when it slipped away.
“Here,” she said, “let me help.”
Her fingers were soft. It had been so long since he’d been touched by a female in any kind of manner. When he was a boy he longed for the touch of a mother but he was no longer a boy and a mother’s touch wasn’t on his mind anymore.
Her fingertips dipped and tucked around his skin, wrapping and folding the gauze so it held firm. All throughout she kept glancing from her task to see him watching her.
“You’re handsome,” she told him, “it’s in a rough way but you have a gentleness in your eyes.”
Cassian closed his eyes as her fingertips traced down his belly and lower and he shuddered when they dipped inside his leathers. Her lips placed a gentle kiss to the bruise on his cheekbone and then used her free hand to turn his face to hers.
Their kisses were slow, unpractised and wet. Their tongues sliding over each other until somehow, she was on her back on his small bed and he was nestled on top of her. When she guided his hand up her skirts and in between her thighs he discovered something else wet and his body hummed.
He didn’t make love to her but it wasn’t fucking either.
He was unskilled but made up for it with enthusiasm and he watched as the moonlit danced across her bare skin, highlighting the splattering of freckles across her shoulders and chest.
Cassian slept like the dead that night never knowing whether he’d passed out before she left or if she’d crept away in the night. Either way, in the morning she was gone and he was alone.
Despite the fact that he’d taken his pleasure but hadn’t managed to give her hers, she’d placed extra gauze on the wooden table by the bed along with a parcel of food, carefully wrapped up for him to take away.
She’d never asked for his name and hadn’t given hers either.
The continued laughing of the couple brought Cassian back to the café. That red-haired fae from the tavern would now be centuries old, like him, if she were still alive. The town that she lived in had grown to the size of a small city.
Whether the tavern still existed, Cassian didn’t know. Whether she was alive, Cassian wouldn’t know.
He was a nobody back then but it was no surprise that the red-haired fae in this café knew who he was.
Most, if not all, of the city knew who he was. Predominantly he was the esteemed General who had protected and fought for Velaris for centuries and a member of the Inner Circle, one of their High Lord’s most trusted confidantes.
The other facet of his reputation, and likely what the serving fae was interested in, wasn’t so much his prowess in battle as it was in bed. Cassian, and every female since the first, had one Illyrian female to thank for that.
Elvira.
By the time he’d met her he’d grown into a warrior of some esteem. Still a foot soldier and placed in the lowest ranks where Rhys’ father wanted him but the previous High Lord of Night couldn’t crush Cassian’s desire to succeed nor his natural talent at doing so.
He was broader by this point, the burgeoning muscles now in full growth and he ambled into camp with his war wounds now badges of pride.
Cassian was a long way off his nickname of Lord of Bloodshed but whispers spread amongst the camps of an Illyrian warrior, not even a century old, who was feared and revered in equal measure.
His success fed him even if Rhys’ father, nervous at the suggestion that Cassian was the reincarnation of the Illyrian’s first warrior, tried to starve him from his accomplishments.
Elvira had been in that camp, wings clipped and eyes hard. An immediate attraction existed between them and Cassian wanted her.
Luckily, she also wanted him.
After their first time, laying on the camp bed in his tent, he was cocky. You’re blessed, he told her, you’re in the bed of the best Illyrian. Her scoff followed by the comment about him not being the best Illyrian in bed wounded his pride.
He didn’t lick his wounds for long. Elvira was keen to teach and Cassian keen to learn and he liked to prove a quick study.
Cassian learnt the only way he could learn; through trial and error but with not much room for error. Soon he had it so Elvira panted desperately for her release, her fingers slipping on his skin for grip. Then, when they lay on the camp bed, their bodies coated in their mingled sweat, Elvira had no breath for comments.
Elvira didn’t do gentle and she never considered their acts as making love. Neither did Cassian. They were lessons in the art of fucking.
But some lessons were the hardest to learn.
Much like him, she was filled with rage and it exploded in a temper that was as hot as it was quick. Often their arguments were deliberate just so Cassian could fuck her anger out of her but when together they were flame and neither carried enough sweetness for the other to make their time anything close to joyful.
In the end they both fucked others and neither cared. As quickly as they came together, they fell apart and she drifted away to another camp.
Elvira was dead now. A name on a long list of Illyrians who perished in war. There had been so many that Cassian couldn’t remember which one it was.
Cassian let out a quiet sigh. His drink was now cloying, tasting too sweet against the bitter memories and he fought the temptation to have something stronger.
He had numerous encounters over the centuries and not all as sad as Elvira. In the sands of time, he’d had lovers who’d lasted hours and lovers who’d lasted months. There were those he left and those where they left each other.
Sometimes he wasn’t willing to let go first, they were rare, but they happened.
Mor came to mind. The difference was that he’d pocketed her away in a corner of his heart, one that held Az, Rhys and Feyre and even Amren - when he was feeling gracious.
Mor was the only lover who became a friend.
The night they spent together she was at her most beautiful. The bravado she would later have and that he would love was still developing. She lay back on his bed, the flames crackling outside his tent and her golden hair fanned across his pillow, a pale blush bloomed on her creamy skin.
Cassian was a means to an end that night but in truth, so was Mor. They became a tool for each other’s temporary destruction but then they became a tool for each other’s re-birth. He would always love Mor and she him.
There was only one other female from his past that he could say he adored for a time.
High fae were visiting Velaris from Dawn and she was one of the nobles, invited to the House of Wind as a special courtesy. She dressed in soft sunrise pinks and oranges, her hair a soft golden-brown caramel and she had sharp grey eyes.
Her appearance was gentle but she had her own mind and would speak it, although her opinions, even the forthright ones, were always tempered with kindness.
Cassian was older, sharper, more rough-hewn than before. He felt battle scarred and weary on a daily basis but at that moment he was amongst friends, drinking wine that tinted their lips ruby red and throwing back their heads in boisterous laughter.
The reason behind the Dawn Court’s political visit was long forgotten but Cassian would always remember her.
She strode over to him, her beautiful face with cheekbones sharper than any blade but holding a tender smile.
“My name,” she told him, “is Lyla. Yours?”
He’d introduced himself and, like the gentleman he wasn’t, kissed her palm.
“I’d like a drink Cassian and a tour of the balcony if you would.”
His grin was borderline feral.
Lyla smelt like jasmine and roses and every chance Cassian had he pressed his nose into her skin, inhaling as deep as he could to capture it into his lungs forever. That night he showed her the Night Court stars and the next, his scars.
Every night after was spent in his bed.
When the Dawn Court left to continue their tour, Lyla stayed behind for almost a year.
Mor teased Cassian relentlessly. “Is she yours?” she jested. “Is this it for our beloved Cassian? Lost forever in the endless drudgery of matehood?”
He’d laughed it off but secretly hoped it was.
He’d sometimes dream of a figure and the image that passed through his mind was always one with golden-brown hair and grey eyes. In his dreams he always tried to reach her, this female who was permanently one step away. Every time he got close, she seemed to slip down a corridor of a labyrinth she’d built up around her.
At times he would get close enough to touch the strands of her hair and as she turned a corner, he would glimpse a striking cheekbone and chilling glare.
On waking he would reach for Lyla, warm and supple in the bed next to him. “You were running from me again,” he murmured and placed hot kisses down her throat.
“I would never,” she gasped as he drew closer, unlacing the front of her nightgown and bearing her breasts.
“Hmm, but you did,” and a nipple would disappear into his wet mouth as he slid warm fingers up her thigh. She squirmed delightfully and the sun would break over Night, filling the room.
“And you glared at me,” he would continue as his mouth travelled down her body as he lifted the nightgown up. Cassian would nuzzle his face at the juncture between her legs, and languidly lick her as though he were eating cream from a spoon.
“Oh, I would never.”
Cassian waited for the mate bond to snap but it never did. After another half year had passed, he realised that he didn’t want it to.
Lyla was too good for him.
He licked honey from her body and couldn’t distinguish whether the sweetness was that or her skin. Her hands, smooth as butter, caressed his, snagging on the coarseness of his palms. She would talk about her friends and family, eyes drifting to the windows in longing while patiently spending all her time with his.
Cassian watched as Lyla pined for home.
“Perhaps,” she’d asked him, “Dawn would be a home for you too?”
It would never be and they both knew it. Cassian also understood that while it wasn’t love for him, it was for her. Maybe it could have grown in time but he wondered if it was fair for to Lyla to wait while Cassian forced it to root.
It could be years, Cassian told himself. Or decades. Centuries even. Time is nothing when you are immortal.
Eventually the sweetness would have turned to sorrow while Lyla waited for something that may never happen and that’s why Cassian told her to go. No, it wasn’t love but it still hurt.  
Years later, possibly a hundred of them, he was on a visit to Dawn and enquired about her. Thesan had surprised him by making arrangements and there she was, visiting his guest suite one afternoon as beautiful as ever.
She had mated to a Peregryn. She’d smiled at Cassian, her familiar happy smile and said, “I’ve always liked winged males.”
Cassian’s hug lifted her from the ground and no more was to be said.  
Cassian’s reverie was broken by the chime of the door as more and more fae rushed in. The sky outside had now darkened to charcoal and the rain was showing no sign of slowing. Inside the café, the fae lights lit up and flickered around the trailing ivy draped across the walls.
Another couple had entered and chose to sit in the alcove to Cassian’s left, pressed as close as could be decent in public. Cassian observed them for a second and felt his lips twitch into a smile. The years had turned him into a sap.
There had been too many females to count; multiple hair colours, eye colours and skin tones. A variety of accents and scents.
Then her but before her, during the time in which they sized each other up like dogs of war, there was another.
Cassian rubbed his hand over his face. That year held a long, cold winter and an unrelenting hot summer. Both were filled with anger and vile words. It was no wonder Cassian sought comfort in the arms of someone who wanted to comfort him.
He’d been simultaneously dealing with the discontent within the camps that grew from rebellion into civil war and a personal, much smaller scale rebellion at the request of his High Lord and Lady. Nursing a wounded ego, wounded wrist and what appeared to be a wounded heart he fled back to Velaris to find solace in the drinks at Rita’s.
A beautiful blonde had approached him. She recognised him, had knowledge of his reputation and knew what she wanted. It suited him just fine.
He’d fucked her against his bedroom wall in the House of Wind. He’d fucked her on his bed, against the silk sheets that were luxury in comparison to the rough blankets in his Illyrian cabin. He fucked her from behind and she rode him until her knees gave out. Cassian made sure it lasted the entire night and the next morning her voice was hoarse.
It made him feel better. For a moment.
Cassian hadn’t bothered washing the fae’s scent from him when he flew back to the cabin. It was a vindicative move but felt like a victory when he saw the reaction it had.
Was it worth it? It didn’t matter now. It had been so long ago, half a century - perhaps more.  
That blonde, the one whose name he couldn’t remember because ultimately it was never of significance, was the last female who would grace his bed before the one who mattered did.
That female, he’d said once, was the last female I fucked before the last female I would ever fuck. Cassian grinned at that memory and the subsequent reaction from the other fae in the conversation.
You coarse bastard – you refer to what we do in our bedroom as fucking? I’m your mate. Give it a more respectful name. Her eyes had narrowed and her glare was ice, her posture rigid.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Cassian nodded “whatever you say.” He decided to not mention how, on the morning of that conversation, when they were performing the very act that apparently required some reverential anointment, she had begged him to ‘fuck her harder.’
The current colour of the sky reminded him of her, mainly of the dresses she wore; deep grey embroidered with silver thread, but also of her eyes. Those blue-grey eyes would change shade dependent on her mood. Blue when contented and grey went irritated.
Whether it was magic or a trick of the light Cassian didn’t know but they were often bluer than grey most days.
A crack of lighting and rumble of thunder turned into shrieks as fae ran from the bridge to get out of the storm. All the while Cassian sat at his table in front of the window watching,
He once lied that he wasn’t concerned about who she lost her virginity too, he’d taken the virginity of many but there had been a time when he thought he would be involved in hers too. There was a sadness in that train of thought, that he hadn’t been the one to give her an experience worthy of who she was.
Their first time together was filled with resentment and anger so it was the other times that held more meaning. He remembered when they were on the mountain and the rain drops shone in her hair like jewels. He was overwhelmingly consumed with love for her.
There was time after time where they fell into each other, desperate for the feel of each other’s skin that they shredded through clothes. There had been the soft times where he pressed his mouth against hers, looking into her eyes while their bodies joined.
There had been that very morning and the night before. And the night before that one. She was hungry for everything these days and he grinned at the thought.
On the bridge a group of fae scattered, not to escape the weather but to make way for someone approaching. It wasn’t that they moved out of fear although she did still carry a certain reputation, but an element of her presence commanded respect.
Cassian’s grin turned into a chuckle as she moved nearer. She was using her magic as a barrier against the rain and instead of it hitting her, it lashed out at anyone too near. Despite this, the bottom of her dress was soaked and she wore a scowl on her face only Cassian found charming.
He waved the red-haired fae over and her face lit up until she realised who was heading their way.
“A bowl of your best stew please,” he gestured towards the window, “she hungry.” He paused, “And grumpy.”
Colour leeched from the fae’s face and she rushed off quicker than he’d ever seen anyone move. The door chimed again to announce its newest arrival.
Nesta. His Nesta. The only female he would ever lay beside again, the only female he would want to lay beside again.  
He stood to greet her and she glided over to him, an act which was getting more difficult for her each day. “This weather,” she bit out, “ridiculous. It makes everyone ridiculous.”
He cupped her cold face in his palms and leant forward, kissing her forehead. When he pulled away, she gave a little sigh.
His ever so slightly mellowing Nesta.
He got her settled and the serving fae placed a bowl in front of her before making a hasty retreat. “Thank goodness,” Nesta said, “I’m starving.”
Cassian was content to watch as she picked up her spoon and tucked in. Loose strands of hair framed her face and there was the hint of some freckles on her nose, remnants from the summer when she went to visit Elain.
He would be content to watch her forever.
Reaching out with a hand, he pressed his open palm against her growing stomach. Nesta didn’t break stride, one hand spooning stew into her mouth while the other came to rest on his, their fingers curling together.
Cassian knew when they’d conceived.
It had been one of their visits to Illyria, Cassian for routine training and inspection and Nesta to get some space.
It had happened on the third day.
Nothing unusual had occurred, just simple domesticity in the cabin they shared. Nesta looked so lovely by the fire, her hair loose around her shoulders while she read. A thick blanket was tucked around her and her entire pose indicated nothing but pure relaxation aside from when she occasionally quirked an eyebrow.
That, and the dusky blush on her cheeks, was how Cassian recognised she was reading on of her erotic stories.
He’d placed an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder. Nesta smelt like the smoke from the fire but tasted as fresh as mint. The little gasps she made as he continued down her body gave him all the encouragement he needed and she buried her fingers in his hair, the book falling with a thud.
Whatever the characters in her story were doing, Cassian could do better.
Soon it was nothing but their naked bodies pressed against each other, sweat coated skin slipping against skin. The firelight danced around them, shadows highlighting the curves of Nesta’s body as she writhed beneath him.
He was on her, in her, around her. His winged body taking up space on the rug. Nesta, his proper Nesta, who stood spine straight and unsmiling in public had sucked his thumb into her mouth, tongue flickering against his flesh, her pupils so large her eyes were black.
Cassian fucked her so hard that when her release came, she arched her back wide off the ground. He’d grabbed her thighs and hoisted her upwards, opening her up further so he could drive in deeper.
Afterwards they lay in front of the glowing embers, sweat cooling and he kissed her breathless because he never wanted to not be kissing her.
The rest of their time in Illyria was filled with duties that took Cassian away and it was a few days after their return to Velaris that he noticed a change in them both. A slight alteration of her scent and a distinct primal urge within him to tear apart any male who looked at her.
Cassian felt their baby shift underneath his palm, moving around for space, maybe even stretching its developing wings.
Nesta made a contented noise, food devoured. She rested her other hand against her stomach and leant back in her chair, looking out the window. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to sit further into the café, the alcove looks cosy.”
“I like watching the city.”
Nesta squeezed his fingers as the baby shifted particularly firmly. She sighed and Cassian saw her look out towards the bridge. “There’s not much to see in this spot.”
“I don’t mind,” Cassian said. “All this time, I was waiting for you.”
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heyitssmiller · 4 years
Text
Clandestine - Chapter Two
Alright people, say it with me: Trust Issues. Also Finn goes from zero to one hundred real fast.
This is definitely a filler chapter; we’ll get to more spy stuff next chapter.
@lumosinlove
Chapter One
.
Finn made sure to get to the office early enough to have time for a trip down to the Archives, his second cup of coffee in hand as he took the elevator up to the fifth floor of the building. He needed intel. Not on the Snakes – they were getting briefed on them later today. No, he was looking for files on his new partners.
Granted, he could learn a lot from observing them on his own time, but that could only give him so much. In order to get the full picture, he needed their hometowns, history, information about their families, jobs they’d done in the past, you name it. Because, for one of the only times in his life, he was stumped. His entire job was based on how well he could read people; this was frustratingly unusual.
Unusually frustrating? Finn questioned as elevator opened with a ding.
It was both frustrating and unusual. There.
Figuring Logan out was harder than he’d thought it would be. Finn was having a really hard time connecting the Logan he knew from two months ago to the one he was trying to get to know now. He was so different compared to the version of Logan he’d met at the New Year’s party… but alcohol tended to have that effect on people. The guy who cuddled with him on that ratty old couch while nursing a rum and coke now kept his distance. The easy smile and contagious laugh Finn remembered hadn’t been seen or heard since. He was so guarded. About everything, it seemed like. That made him hard to get to know, hard to predict. 
And then there was Leo. Leo made absolutely no sense, in Finn’s opinion. With constant movement but controlled, practiced actions, he was a paradoxical combination of restless and serene. His nerves pointed towards inexperience, but his eyes told a different story – one with complete confidence of his capabilities. He was an enigma. And Finn couldn’t seem to get a read on him.
That was important to Finn. He needed to be able to read and understand his partners. He needed to be able to know their thoughts, predict their every move, trust them. They wouldn’t work together otherwise.
So he woke up at a god-forsaken hour – it was still dark outside – and here he was, outside the Archives.
Staring at the back, broad shoulders, and brown hair of one of his new partners.
Fuck.
He put on a smile. “If I’d known I was meeting you here, I would’ve brought coffee for you.”
Logan didn’t tense, exactly, but his shoulders stiffened slightly. He turned and smiled back. It still wasn’t the smile Finn remembered from that night, wasn’t the one he wanted to see again so badly. “Hey. I see you had the same idea as me.”
“And what’s that?”
He shrugged, indifferent. “Getting intel on your new partners.”
“Nah,” Finn lied as they walked side-by-side to the front desk, “I’m here to brush up on the previous missions against the Snakes’ before our briefing this afternoon. But it’s nice that you want to do your research on us.” He winked. Logan’s lips twitched in an attempt to withhold a smile.
“Can I help you boys?”
Finn turned his bright smile to Lily Potter, who was manning the Archives desk. “Hello, my fellow redhead! We would like the files on past Snakes’ missions, and then the files on Knut, Tremblay, and yours truly, please.”
She arched an eyebrow. “How much time do you have on your hands?”
“Don’t have anything on my schedule until this afternoon. Why?”
“The missions will take you at least two days to get through. It’s probably eight, ten years of files.”
Finn whistled lowly. “Holy shit.”
He hadn’t really thought this through. In his defense, though, it was a spur of the moment idea.
“Well, just the other files, then. Someone over here wants to do research on his new partners.”
Lily sent Logan a curious glance, but left to grab the files. Finn turned to Logan with a flirtatious smile, resting his arm on the desk. “So, what all do you want to know? I’m an open book.”
“I seriously doubt that.”  Logan snorted, nose crinkling in the process.
Finn’s smile turned more genuine. God, he was cute. “Ok, then ask away. Here, I’ll help you out. I’m a Gemini, I graduated from Harvard, I’m a sucker for green eyes, I enjoy long, romantic walks on the beach as long as there’s no seaweed-”
“Why would you think any of that is relevant?”
“I give you all this information and that’s the first question you ask? I’m offended.” Lily chose that moment to return with three files, two significantly thicker than the other one. Finn thanked her and grabbed Logan’s file for himself before passing the other two to Logan.
“Have fun researching!” Finn said as he turned to head for the elevator again. He paused before looking back at Logan and adding with a wink, “Oh, and pass along Nut’s file to me when you’re done reading it.”
***
Remus stepped foot into the briefing room to find Sirius already there, messing with a laptop. Where he got said laptop was unknown. And a little worrying, seeing that he’d shown up in Gryffindor with a bag of clothes, some cash, and nothing else.
He glanced up at Remus and looked him over with a smile. “Good afternoon. Long time, no see.”
“What are you up to?” Remus asked as he set his bag down, clutching his cup of tea in his other hand and looking back at Sirius. There were bags under his eyes, reminding Remus of the fact that he was still sleeping on his couch. Sleeping was a loose term, though. He had also been awake when Remus had gone to bed and when he got up in the morning. Did the man ever sleep?
“Oh, nothing much.” Sirius said, hitting a few keys on the laptop in rapid succession. “Getting ready to brief the cubs.”
“The cubs?”
“Your logo is a lion. And they’re the youngest ones here, right? Hence the cubs.”
“Cute.” Remus sat down in one of the chairs with a sigh and took a sip of his tea. “So what are you briefing them on today?”
“Members of the Snakes. I have a powerpoint with pictures and everything.”
“Oh god.”
Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Better than me droning on and expecting them to stay focused.”
“They’re spies. Sometimes, that’s part of the job.”
“Sure. But it doesn’t have to be.”
Remus smiled a little at that. “How thoughtful of you.”
“I try.”
He hummed, cupping his mug with both hands. “You know, if you were really thoughtful you’d stop leaving your dishes in the sink.”
That startled a laugh out of Sirius. “Now, why would I do that when it’s so fun to get on your nerves?”
“You don’t get on my nerves.”
Sirius arched an eyebrow. “No?”
“No.” He took another sip of tea to hide his smile. “I’m a very patient man.”
Sirius was still laughing by the time Knut, O’Hara, and Tremblay entered the room. They all sat side by side, not really talking much and still a little unsure of each other. That needed to change soon. You couldn’t afford to be doubting your partners while on missions like the ones they’d be getting into.
“Alright, cubs! Let’s get started, shall we?” Sirius asked, connecting the laptop to the room’s projector. “Today we’re going over the members of the Snakes and what all you need to know about them.”
An animated picture of a snake in a party hat showed up on the projector. Remus sighed.
“Ok, so we’ll start at the top.” He switched to the next slide. “This is Riddle. Fuck Riddle. He’s in charge of every little detail of the Snakes, and very paranoid about handing over tasks to other members. He’s got a lot of messed up ideas about ethics and – well, pretty much everything.”
“What’s wrong with his eyes?” Logan asked, still staring uncomfortably at the yellow eyes on the screen.
Sirius shrugged. “I think it’s a genetics thing. Something about liver issues. I never really paid attention. On to the next member!”
A picture of a greasy-haired man with a sour expression on his face glared back at them.
“Snape.” Remus said with disdain. At Sirius’ look, he just shrugged. “Pots has gone up against him a few times. He hates the guy and makes sure everyone knows it. He works in the drug side of their operation.”
“Exactly.” Sirius smiled, which proved to be more distracting than Remus thought it would be. There had been teasing smiles, flirty smiles, sarcastic smiles, but this one was new. This was one of the first genuine smiles he’d seen from the ex-Snake. “I think I like Potter a little more now.”
“I think you two could actually be really good friends, and that terrifies me.”
“Ok, next is Bellatrix. Please, please avoid her as much as possible. She’s certifiably insane.”
Finn frowned. “She’s got one of the flash drives, right?”
“Unfortunately, yes. So it’s going to be up to you to distract her and Leo to grab the drive, probably.”
Both boys paled a little, then looked to each other, seeming to have a silent conversation all their own.
Sirius moved on to the next slide, where a man with cold eyes and a feral smile looked back at them. “This is Fenrir Greyback. Don’t fuck around with this one, he’s ruthless.”
Finn and Logan’s eyes snapped over to Loops, who looked pale and slightly nauseous. His hand was on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, massaging the muscle absentmindedly. Not for the first time, Finn wondered what exactly happened on that mission. All he knew was that Loops was supposed to take Greyback down and he came back with a mutilated shoulder and new cuts on his face that were sure to scar. He hadn’t been back in the field since.
Leo’s gaze moved from one person in the room to the next, slowly piecing together the story. He didn’t know all the details yet, but he knew they couldn’t be good.
Sirius, who was still talking, finally seemed to connect the dots. His eyes got wide and his sentence trailed off to remain incomplete. He stared at Loops in horror. “Fuck.”
“I think that’s enough for today.” Leo said quietly but firmly, getting out of his seat while giving Remus a meaningful look. His partners followed suit. “We can pick this up again tomorrow.”
The three of them left in a hurry, leaving Sirius and Remus alone. Remus started grabbing his meticulously organized notes and shoved them in his bag. He could feel Sirius’ gaze on him, but he refused to look up.
“Listen, Remus, I had no idea –”
“Of course you didn’t.” Remus cut in calmly. “How could you have known? Hell, you probably congratulated him after that mission –”
“That’s not true –”
“But you were there. You knew what he did to people and yet you just stood by.”
“Why do you think I left?” Sirius demanded, his voice raising. Remus finally met his gaze. “You weren’t the only one who got screwed over by the Snakes. I grew up watching that shit, just assuming it was normal because that’s the way it’s always been there. And then I realized my parents were monsters and started thinking for myself and realized how fucked up that organization is. Do you really think I’d be here if I condoned that sort of shit?”
“Honestly? I wasn’t sure you cared. The only motivation for wanting to take the Snakes down that you’ve deigned to share with us is that you want your brother safe. You’ve never said anything about how you feel about the organization itself.”
“What are you smoking?” Sirius asked with an incredulous laugh. “I want my brother safe because he’s in that hellhole. What other reason –”
“Then tell us that!” Remus shouted, finally getting Sirius to stop talking. “You keep everything so close to your chest, you don’t seem to want to interact with any of us, and you don’t tell us anything but the bare minimum. How are we supposed to get anything done if we can’t trust you?”
“That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think? I swear, you’re one of the most guarded people I’ve ever met!”
“Well, you don’t really need to get to know me, do you?” Remus fired back. Sirius froze. “You’re here to take the Snakes down. That’s it. When all this is done, it’s not like you’re going to stay. You don’t have to trust me as a friend, but trust me as an agent.”
“That’s it, huh?” Sirius asked, voice dangerously blank.
“That’s it.”
“Fine.” He said gruffly, slamming the laptop closed and grabbing his jacket from the back of a nearby chair. “I’m headed out. Don’t wait up.”
Remus sighed, staring down at his mug and swirling the now-cold contents. Even though they’d gotten along surprisingly well the past couple of days, they weren’t friends. And they didn’t need to be friends. This was business. They were working together to get a job done. That was all. 
Remus knew that the two of them getting along so well was like an already-lit fuse - it was bound to blow up in their faces sooner rather than later. 
***
Finn walked into the safe room, whistling lowly as he looked around. He’d never been in here before – he hadn’t had a reason to. There were safes of all different types and sizes littered around the room. On tables, on the floor, embedded in the walls. He wondered how many safes there were total, and how long it had taken to collect them all.
Leo was seated criss-cross-applesauce in front of one, pressing a stethoscope against the door of a safe and rotating the dial slowly. Finn smiled a little at the sight. This made more sense, seeing it in action. The constant fidgeting was replaced with stillness, the only movement being those of deft fingers against the dial. All that motion and pent-up energy were now focused solely on the safe. 
He walked up to Leo, completely unnoticed, and tapped on his shoulder. Leo jumped a foot into the air, yanking the stethoscope out of his ears and whirling around to look at Finn. “Fuck, you scared me.”
“Sorry, Nut.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Coming to see you, obviously.” Finn said with a wink. “Tremblay and I were wondering if you wanted to get dinner with us. You know,” Finn made a weird motion with his hand and then cringed, moving his hand behind his back and grabbing it with his other hand to keep from performing any more weird, random movements. “Get to know the team and all that.”
Leo’s smile lit up the room. “I’d love to! Y’all headed out right now?”
Y’all.
Wow, his genteel southern-boy routine could really take him places in this profession. With that combined with his looks, no one would ever think he could possibly be guilty of anything.
“Probably. It’s almost seven.”
Leo blinked, confused. “Is it?” At Finn’s nod, he uncrossed his legs and stretched, his back popping in the process. “Guess we should get going then, huh?”
“Yeah.” Finn held out a hand and helped the blond to his feet. He really was just a giant. How did he find clothes that fit him? Finn glanced down at Leo’s shirtsleeves and - sure enough - they were an inch or two above his wrists. He realized he was sort of staring at this guy’s wrists, of all things, and his eyes shot back up to meet kind, albeit confused, blue eyes. “We were thinking Sid’s for dinner? You been there before?” When Leo shook his head, he groaned. “You’re missing out, Nut. We’re fixing that right now. Come on.”
He led Leo back down the hall to the bullpen, where Logan was still pouring over files. How he ever expected to get through the huge pile of files on his desk, Finn had no idea. “Look alive, Tremblay. We’re getting pizza.”
Logan instantly looked up with a hopeful smile. “Sid’s?”
“Where else?” Finn laughed as Logan shot out of his seat and grabbed his coat. He’d never seen the other agent move so fast. “Hungry?”
Logan turned to look at him, his arm getting stuck in the sleeve of his coat. He grumbled under his breath in a language that definitely wasn’t English and shoved his arm into his sleeve. “I’m going to eat an entire pizza and you can’t stop me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
They stepped out of the building together, taking a right and heading down the street. It wasn’t actually that cold outside, for a Gryffindor winter – only thirty-five degrees or so. But Nut still shoved his hands into his pockets and nuzzled his nose into his coat. Finn couldn’t hold back the smile at the sight, noticing red-tipped ears and a slight shiver.
“Cold, Nut?” Logan asked, also noticing the blond’s hunched shoulders.
He looked at his new partners, then buried his nose again. “Don’t judge me. New Orleans winters aren’t nearly this bad.”
“New Orleans, huh?” Logan questioned, although Finn knew he was already aware of Leo’s hometown. It was in his file, after all. “I’ve always wanted to visit.”
“Ooh, yes!” Finn agreed, leading them around a corner. “The home of Mardis Gras.”
Leo shrugged. “If we’re being technical Mobile, Alabama had the first Mardis Gras celebration in the States. We just do it better. There’s a ton of people, though. If you really want to see the city, come at a better time in the year.” He sent the other two boys a smile. “Maybe summer, so you can experience real southern heat. And humidity.”
“No thanks.” They said in unison, making Leo laugh. The conversation trailed off as they waited for the sign at a crosswalk.
“Where are the two of you from?” Leo finally asked as the red hand morphed into a walking man and the ticking from the crosswalk speakers changed tempo. They stepped into the street with Logan staring down cars that could potentially start moving again and hit them.
Finn thought that was cute.
Maybe Finn was looking at his personality the wrong way. Guarded wasn’t the right adjective for him - protective fit much better.
“New York City.” He rushed to answer Leo’s question as they reached the other side of the street, pointing out the Sid’s sign for Leo.
“Canada.” Logan said a bit gruffly, but you could hear the fondness in his voice.
Leo arched an eyebrow. “Now I understand why you’re so accustomed to the cold.”
Finn held open the door to Sid’s, motioning for the other two to go on ahead. “You’ll get used to it, too, Nut. Logan, can you believe he’s never had Sid’s before?”
Logan went off on a tangent about the perfection that is Sid’s margherita pizza as they were led to their table by a young waiter, who eyed them curiously. They sat down and Finn noticed Logan choosing a seat facing the rest of the restaurant, back to the wall. He looked around at the others in the building, only relaxing when he deemed the coast to be clear.
They quickly looked over the menu, Finn and Logan giving recommendations about their favorite dishes (practically all of them) and began telling lighthearted stories about where they were from and how they grew up while waiting for their food. Leo’s leg was constantly bouncing under the table, but he looked happy and relaxed, which Finn took as a good sign. Finn finally, finally got one of those rare New Year’s party smiles again, as well as a new sunny, dimpled smile from Leo - both of which he really wanted to keep seeing.
He didn’t understand why he was making such a big deal of causing his partners to smile.
Ok, he might’ve had a slight idea. But he didn’t want to think about it too hard. Not yet, at least.
It was only when their pizzas arrived that Logan brought out the big guns.
“So what made you decide to do this for a living?” He asked, sticking his tongue out to catch a stray string of cheese from his pizza slice. Finn tried not to follow the motion too closely, for his own sanity. “For me, it was Dumo. He was our next-door neighbor growing up, after we moved from Canada. I remember he was always away on business trips, but he would  come back looking exhausted and a little beat up. I’d go visit Celeste while he was away – she was always so worried, so I knew something was up. I can’t remember exactly how I found out, but I think I was thirteen or so when I figured out what his job was.” Logan shrugged. “Nothing else really interested me after that.”
“You guys are close, then?” Leo asked, maintaining eye contact with Logan and grabbing the container of red pepper flakes, liberally adding it to his pizza. Finn watched on in horror. Had he previously burned all his taste buds off or something?
Logan smiled. “Yeah. He’s like a dad to me. The whole family’s great. I babysit their kids all the time.”
That was a mental image Finn would be thinking about for the foreseeable future. God, he was screwed, wasn’t he?
He hurried to talk and take his mind off of it. “I got recruited right out of college. I’ve got a good memory and a knack for predicting people and how they’ll react to things. I jumped at the opportunity.” 
He smiled fondly at the memories his mind brought up. “My brother and I grew up on James Bond movies. How cool would it be to do that for my career? So I joined. The obvious next step was becoming a conman, I guess. It’s where I fit best.”
They looked to Leo, who seemed mildly embarrassed. “My Mama caught me pickpocketing on Bourbon Street.”
Logan and Finn took a moment to process that, and then cracked up. Leo waited for them to calm back down, smiling sheepishly before he continued, “She said if I was going to do stuff like that, I should at least be doing some good in the world. So she googled and found Gryffindor and asked some recruiters to meet with me. I came home from school one day to Blizzard and Talker sitting on my couch, eating my mom’s jambalaya.” Logan and Finn laughed again while Leo dragged his crust through some marinara sauce. “Next thing I knew, I was driving a moving truck across the country.”
“Do you miss home?” Logan asked, finally shoving his plate away.
Leo shrugged, looking back and forth between the other two knowingly. “Doesn’t everyone miss home, in one way or another?”
Finn wasn’t even sure what home was to him anymore. Maybe he’d figure it out one of these days. He glanced over at his new partners. Logan also looked pensive, apparently grappling with Leo’s words as well. 
Leo seemed completely unfazed, his leg bouncing again. “Does anyone want dessert?”
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halcyonstorm · 3 years
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my contest submission for LH drabble week! @levihan-drabbles
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Kuchel Ackerman Additional Tags: Sick Levi Ackerman, Leukemia, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Car Accidents, Doctor Hange Zoë, Angst, Slight OOC, sorry Series: Part 9 of Short Fics Summary:
Hange and Levi were separated for several years for reason they couldn't help. They finally found each other.
At just 18 years old, Levi received the worst news of his life. He was sick. Extremely sick. If someone even coughed or breathed on him, he could die. He had leukemia, a disease which attacks the body’s white blood cells. Our white blood cells are our guardians, protecting us from any infection that dares to enter. He had one friend he wanted to tell the most: his best friend Hange. She had been his friend since the beginning of high school. He didn’t like her at first, but she kept showing up, eager to be his friend. He eventually warmed up to her, allowing her to sit with him at lunch, hang out after class; soon, they were inseparable.
Levi’s heart was in his throat as he mentally prepared to present the life-changing news to his best friend. “Hange, I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. Hange looked at him funny. He never spoke in such a strange manner before. Hange hesitantly sat in front of him at the empty desk, turning around in the chair to face him.
“What is it?” She asked, concerned. She was starting to get nervous.
“I’m sick,” he began, almost inaudibly. “I have leukemia… I am gonna have to leave school to be in the hospital. I get so weak, and my immune system is absolute shit… I can’t even risk getting a cold, otherwise I can die.”
Hange’s heart sunk into her stomach. She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. She had to be strong for Levi, and she knew that. 
“I’ll be here with you. We can text, call, facetime…”
“Yeah, we can,” he replied.
“We will! I’m your friend,” Hange said, grabbing his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”
-
At first, Levi thought he’d be strong enough to withstand the chemotherapy. That he’d be the rare case to have no side effects. Boy, was Levi wrong. After his first two weeks, his health was tanking. It tanked so bad, in fact, that no one was allowed in the room except the doctors and nurses. Hange was one of the only people to call him daily besides his mom. Hange would Facetime him after class, telling him all about her day. Levi never had much to share from his monotonous days of drug infusions and immobilizing fatigue, but he enjoyed listening to Hange’s voice. Over time, Hange began to notice her friend change: His skin became ghostly pale and his words were mumbled. She would show him the blooming flowers in the spring, the fallen leaves in the autumn, the snow in the winter. She would show him anything to distract him from the excruciating pain he suffered each day. 
After a year of chemotherapy treatments, the toxins started to take a toll on his body. He’d find clumps of black hair on his pillow every morning, until one night he insisted his mother shave it all off. Each clump of hair reminded him of the life he should’ve had. Going to class in-person instead of online for the rest of the semester, graduating through a computer screen. He fucking hated it. His physical and mental state began to worsen each week. He was like a walking corpse, sleeping about 16 hours each day. When he was awake, he was wishing he was asleep. Each day he withered away in the hospital bed. He would miss Hange’s calls frequently due to his concerningly deep slumbers. If he managed to pick up, he would fall asleep on the phone with her. Despite her busy school schedule, she found time to text him every day. That is what kept him going.
Every day turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, and soon not at all. He had officially lost touch with the only friend in his life. He felt it was his fault: he had no energy to ever respond to her texts. He couldn’t blame her. She did try. Alone in his hospital room staring at his old texts from her, his heart ached and tears spilled down his face.
Another year had passed when his doctor came into his shabby hospital room with a look of hope. Levi felt his heart begin to race. 
“Levi, we have some good news and some bad news,” He began, shutting the door behind him. He wore a bright yellow gown with a blue face mask and latex gloves. “The good news is, your white blood cell levels are elevated. This is an improvement compared to last month’s tests. Since they’re higher, you’re well enough to receive a bone marrow transfusion from your mother, who’s a perfect match. The bad news is, there are many risks to having this transfusion. Your body can reject the bone marrow, which may cause massive complications. However, I think it is best for you to get the transplant. It is your best hope for overcoming this disease.”
With no hesitation, Levi agreed. Let’s do this thing.
He tried to reach out to Hange to tell her the news, but after a week with no response, he was disheartened. A part of him hoped she would respond. He had his family, and for that he was forever grateful, but who would he have once he left the hospital? Who would he talk to? Who would he be? He completely lost the miniscule amount of social skills he had. He did make friends with some of the patients on his floor. Unfortunately, he outlived most of them. 
Fortunately for Levi, the transplant was a success. Within the next few months, he began to regain the color in his face, and hair started to sprout on his head again. He was sleeping less frequently, he was finally able to do a lap around the hospital floor without getting too tired. He was still on chemotherapy, but he was regaining his strength, and more importantly, he was getting his life back.
Levi was in (and rarely out of) the hospital almost four years. The day he was discharged for good was a beautiful spring day. The stale air became fresh as he exited the hospital in a wheelchair. He heard the bright green trees rustling and saw some beautiful pink flowers that reminded him of Hange. He took everything for granted until he was cooped up in a hospital room for years. He was grateful to Hange for being his eyes to the outside world. He felt a breeze run through his buzz cut. He took a deep breath, tears helplessly streaming down his face. He was finally free. 
It wasn’t long before Levi started searching for his long lost friend. He hated himself for forgetting how to spell her name. Was it Hanje, Hangi, or Hange? He couldn’t quite remember. He searched her name and was shocked to find out Hange was a medical student practicing at Shinganshina General Hospital. Shinganshina General wasn’t far, so she must still live in the area. He couldn’t, however, find any of her social media accounts. She was off-the-grid. Great… he thought. She was always difficult. He was one to talk, though. He hasn't used social media in years.
Throughout the summer, Levi was able to land a job as a mechanic and he worked endlessly. He had to repay the debt he placed his parents in. His mother especially hated the idea of him working just as he finished his treatments, but Levi was persistent. Eventually, he saved enough money to send monthly deposits to his mom and move out. He couldn’t have his mom taking care of him anymore after all she sacrificed for him. He had made enough money on his own to afford a cheap apartment two blocks away from her house. 
After getting settled, Levi told himself he couldn’t begin college without knowing about Hange’s whereabouts. He decided maybe if he drove to Shinganshina city, he would be able to find her somehow. Someone ought to know her… He got in his car one evening, punched in a diner’s address in Shinganshina, and started to drive. As he drove, he started to realize his plan was stupid. What, am I gonna stalk her at the hospital?
 After finishing a 10-hour shift at the shop, he impulsively drove past his block and hit the highway. The highways were ruthless that Friday night. He had never been to Shinganshina before on his own. He drove, hovering his head over the steering wheel with his elbows tightly tucked to his sides. The speed limit signs read “65 MPH''; however, everyone was quickly steering around him, going way over 75. He was very tempted to turn around in spite of his impetuous road trip; but he couldn’t find an opportunity to do so.
On the other side of the road, the two lines merged into one. One of the drivers did not recognize this, and suddenly swerved onto the other side of the road where Levi was driving. Perhaps if Levi didn’t work so hard that day, there was a slight chance it could’ve been avoidable. The last thing he saw were bright fluorescent headlights before he was knocked unconscious.
-
“We checked his driver’s license. His name is Levi Ackerman, age 22, victim of a head-on vehicle collision. He was wearing his seatbelt and had an airbag. He may have suffered a SCI and concussion. His heart and lung sounds are normal although his sternum and ribs may be broken,” A paramedic announced as they wheeled the unconscious man through the glass doors of the emergency room. 
“Get him up to imaging. We need to do a MRI, CAT scan, and x-ray STAT!” the doctor replied, taking her stethoscope to listen to his chest. She recognized the man right away but allowed her feelings to be suppressed for that crucial moment. Of course she recognized this man. He was her long lost friend, after all.
After finishing the tests, Levi was brought to a hospital room where he was changed into a hospital gown. Dr. Hange Zoe and Dr. Erwin Smith discussed the results: MRI showed signs of a concussion; CAT scan showed no signs of hemorrhaging; x-ray showed a cracked sternum and ribs 4 and 5 were broken. No signs of broken extremities, however he presented with ecchymosis on the bony prominences, such as his hips, knees, and collarbones.
As Levi awoke about two hours later, groaning loudly.
“My chest!” he complained, finding it hard to move. The two doctors turned around to find the patient had regained consciousness.
“Hello, Levi,” Dr. Smith began. “You were in a car accident. You’re at Shinganshina General Hospital. I am Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my intern, Dr. Hange Zoe.” Levi’s eyes widened when he announced her name. 
“H-Hange…” he whispered, attempting to sit up but failing. Dr. Smith placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to sit up. Just relax. How is your pain? We can give you some medication.”
“It’s fucking horrible. Please,” He whimpered, grimacing. Dr. Smith nodded, leaving the room. Hange immediately grabbed a chair, sitting next to her patient, but more importantly her friend.
“Levi, dammit what happened?” She said softly, looking at him. His face was not scratched, it was just the rest of his body that was injured.
“What happened to you?!” He retorted, looking her in the eyes. She could tell he was hurt, not just physically. “So much for not losing you...” 
“I was texting you as much as I could, Levi,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I had lost my phone and got a new one, but I couldn’t remember your number. I tried to find you online but I couldn’t… I am so sorry.” She hesitantly grabbed his hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he squeezed her hand.
“I was too sick to reply,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”
“It’s not-” A knock rang on the door and Hange stood up almost on cue. 
“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, how would you rate your pain?” She asked, switching the topic.
“A big fat 10,” he groaned. Dr. Smith wheeled in an electronic machine with a wire and handle attached.
“This is a patient-controlled analgesia pump. You can push it as many times as you’d like to help alleviate your pain. You will not overdose since it has a set amount of medication you can receive per hour. Also, we have some acetaminophen for you.” Levi downed the pills as soon as it was handed to him. Dr. Smith hooked the tubing up to his IV and handed him the button.
“Hange, gather your information on your patient and then meet with me in the conference room.” Dr. Smith left the room, Hange hesitantly looking at her friend again.
“Let me just do a quick physical assessment,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her pen light. As she did her assessment, he admired her. Being a doctor really did suit her. She was wearing a white lab coat with her name embroidered into it. As she would move his gown around to assess his heart and lung sounds, his breath hitched when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his bruised chest. He looked at her face as she worked. She simultaneously looked the same and different. Different in how she wore her hair, in the shape of her glasses, and she stood taller, more confidently. Same in her eyes never losing their sparkle, her focused pouty face, as well as her smile. That breathtaking smile never changed.
Once she finished, she cleaned off her materials and tucked them away.
“Levi, you’ll be kept at the hospital overnight to monitor your heart on the EKG. If you are able to walk in the morning, you will be discharged. Do you have anyone you can call?”
He thought of his mother. He thought of the burden he crushed her with. He decided to deal with this on his own.
“I live alone,” he replied, looking towards the foot of the bed.
“I can stay with you,” She offered instantly. Levi’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I-I mean… if you want! You have a concussion. You can’t drive yourself or be left alone.”
“Isn’t that like… against the rules?”
“...I am not working tomorrow. I can pick you up and we’ll go from there. Since you won’t be in the hospital for long, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curled upwards.
“That is fine with me. Let’s do it.”
The next day, Levi was able to do a lap around the hospital floor. He walked around with one of the nurses to make sure he didn’t collapse. He was ready to go home. Correction: He was ready to go home with Hange.
Hange went to his hospital room in her normal clothes. Her style changed. She used to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans. She looked more mature in her white button-up top and black slacks. He had to prevent his mouth from opening when he saw her. She was beautiful, but of course he would never mention it. Hange walked down to the entrance of the hospital with the nurse and Levi. She went to get her car. A few minutes later, she arrived in her dark red Honda.
“Levi, you just have to direct me to your house…” She began, tapping at the car’s GPS. He gave the address and she punched it in.
“Hange? Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, almost by accident. She shifted the car into Drive.
“I… never stopped thinking about you, you know,” She began, driving away from the hospital. “Even though we lost touch, I still hoped to meet you again someday. You are the reason I wanted to be a doctor… and whenever I lost hope, I thought of you. Whether you know it or not, you pushed me to keep going.” He looked at her blushing face.
He was shocked by what she said. He felt the same. “Me too,” he confessed, looking in his lap. “Your calls saved my life. You were the only one who stuck around. I will never forget that.”
He was never one to say what he meant, but knowing he had the courage to speak those words to her, Hange felt a strong urge to kiss his lips. She always had feelings for him. Her feelings never changed, despite their time apart. In fact, it only confirmed her feelings for him even more.
“Even before I was hospitalized, I took everything for granted…” Levi said. “I have been wanting to tell you something ever since my diagnosis…” Hange felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke. 
“Thank you for being there for me.”
At the red light, Hange looked at him and squeezed his hand firmly. She noticed his cheeks were dusted with a red blush. 
“I’ll always be here for you.” 
He met her eyes, those radiant hazel eyes. He took advantage of the long stoplight to kiss the woman’s lips. He couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He swore he’d tell her how much he meant to him one of these days. And God, her lips were soft and velvety and everything he’d imagined they’d be, but ten times better. She was shocked at first, but kissed him back. His lips were a little chapped from his rough night, but they were warm. She dreamt of this moment for years (as did he). It was better than how she thought it’d be too. She was intrigued by the quiet boy in school ever since she met him. Maybe she thought he’d lack passion, but it was the opposite. The kiss was full of passion and relief; after years of being in love with each other from a distance, they melted into each other. Suddenly, there was a beep behind her; the light had turned green. Hange chuckled, starting to drive again.
“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”
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hoodoo12 · 3 years
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The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 3/?
@bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @werwulfy @mel-time @rainingpaint @infptarius @monsterlovinghours @turtlepated @strange-n-unbluusual @heresathreebee @sweetcat-666 @genderless-cryptid @fireflower1015 @go-whovian-universe
Monday at the archives went by uneventfully, though Pate did have some difficulty staying awake. She actually ended up going out to her car for her lunch hour and took a nap, the result being that she didn’t eat anything.
Pate was never quite sure these days what she might walk into when she opened her apartment door, but it was unusually quiet when she arrived home. “Beej?” she called out. He’d taken off once or twice before, taking care of she didn’t know what business she didn’t know where, but he’d usually be back before bedtime. Feeling a little more energized thanks to her nap but famished from her skipped meal, Pate changed into loungewear, scrubbed off her makeup, and started preparations for dinner. It didn’t take long, and she would ordinarily wait for Beetlejuice to return from his roaming but she was starved and quickly scarfed down her portion, keeping Beej’s helping warm with a foil tent over the plate.
Unsure what to do with herself with the specter gone, Pate curled up on the couch and put on an animal documentary to wait for him.
He worked it down to a system.
Find a crack, enlarge it enough to send a tentacle or two to start searching for the next one while he forced the rest of himself through. A few times he was slowed when the scouting tendrils took longer to find the next exit point, and once he was stymied because a crack was above the ‘window’. He had no idea if anyone on the other side of that mirror saw him, or what they thought as he shimmied up the inside of the glass like a striped spider right out of a nightmare.
As Beetlejuice expected, there was no rhyme or reason to any of this, and no way to determine where he was. He could have been halfway around the world or in the apartment next door to Pate’s. Nothing he saw when he looked out--and he looked out of every window--was familiar. Undeterred because he had nothing but time, he kept at it.
Just because he had time, though, didn’t mean he didn’t ache. He’d never worked his tentacles so long that they were sore, and his fingers felt more numb than not. He had no fingernails left and he could feel the scrapes on his face, left after he’d pushed through a hole that wasn’t quite large enough for him to get through.
Hours had to have passed. If he got to Pate’s mirror before she came home, Beej promised himself a rest. Till then, he pressed on.
It seemed a Sisyphean task, this endless clawing into the white space behind mirrors. Evilly, his brain started asking questions like, “how many mirrors were there in the world? What if he was going in a circle? What if Lillian had forced the illusion that he was making progress, when he was still just trapped in her one special mirror?” If he gave into those thoughts or despair, he’d be lost for good. Then, all at once, as he pressed his forehead to the inside of yet another pane of glass to look out, a piece of paper on the outside caught his eye. He’d been through plenty of mirrors that had photos stuck to them, but very few in a bathroom--with the same black and white striped shower curtain as in Pate’s! The photo had curled from the humidity. Around it was a smear of lipstick in the shape of a lopsided heart. She’d been so angry he’d used her favorite shade to add the decoration--with his finger, no less!--but she’d never wiped it away.
He couldn’t see the front of it, of course, but knew the photo: a spontaneous Polaroid shot on her balcony one evening during the golden hour, an old-school selfie taken just because. They’d both been laughing because it had taken time to line it up correctly and not just get hair or half of someone’s face. They’d wasted so much film trying to get a good one. The final shot was the two of them slightly turned towards each other, Pate’s forehead against his temple, her eyes closed and a wide grin on her face. His mouth was slightly open because he’d been caught mid-laugh, but he was smiling too. Both their arms were outstretched because they figured both of them holding the camera might work better. The tips of his hair were pink.
He was home.
Beetlejuice would have cried in relief if he wasn’t so tired. Now all he had to do was wait till Pate came into the bathroom, probably inadvertently scare the crap out of her, and get her to let him out.
She must have nodded off there on the couch because the next thing Pate knew she was startling awake, heart thumping in her throat. She’d been on the colorful road again in the foggy wood, running from she didn’t know what and towards she didn’t know where.
Pate rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands and sighed, swinging her legs to the floor. What she needed was a splash of cold water in her face. Rising to her feet, Pate stretched and squinted at the time on the cable box, noting that Beetlejuice still appeared to be absent. She frowned, slightly unsettled that he had yet to return home.
She padded to the bedroom and on to the bathroom, flipping on the lights. In the sudden brightness she was instantly aware of a figure in the medicine cabinet mirror that was not her own. The initial shock made her jump, but the oh-too-familiar green hair and striped suit made her huff a relenting half smile.
“Okay, Beej, that was a good one. You totally got me,” she said, turning to face him behind her only to find that the room was empty except for her. Brow furrowed, Pate took another moment to look around in case he was hiding and hoping for another shock but there was no sign of him. Turning back to the mirror, where his disembodied reflection still stood with a strange expression on his face, she flashed him a questioning look.
“What’s goin on, Bug?”
Looking more closely at him, Pate noticed that his already mussed hair looked even more awry than normal, and there were marks on his face. Growing concerned, Pate took a step closer, pressed against the counter to lean closer to the cabinet and the mirror with the growing suspicion that something was wrong.
Time still had no meaning here. He tried the same things on Pate’s mirror that he had in Lillian’s, pounding on the glass with fists and tentacles, to the same zero effect. He even did his best to simply wrench the glass from the wall, but unlike the odd cracks he’d found that was seamless, like it was one solid piece of material. Eventually he gave up and just waited. It was like being in a tomb. He’d had plenty of practice with that, although this was unending light and he could see a portion of the bathroom. That was almost worse torture than just laying in the dark. Pate had to enter here sometime, however. When she did, looking a little like she’d just woken up, it actually startled him. The light was blinding for a moment and he jumped. Pate did too, when she saw him there, and then tiredly derided him for the scare.
He shook his head and said, “No--Pate, baby, you gotta let me out!”
She didn’t see it. She had turned to look behind her as if expecting him to be there.
When she turned back around to face him, she looked confused. She asked him what was going on.
“Pate! Pate!” he shouted, the volume in his voice increasing. “I’m stuck here! I can’t get out, you’ve gotta let me out! I went to see Lillian and she trapped me in her mirror, and then I kept moving from mirror to mirror until I found yours--how long have I been gone? Let me out!” Beej watched her gaze shift from his eyes to his mouth, and realized with growing panic that one, she couldn’t hear him, and two, he just word vomited so much so quickly there was no way she was able to lip-read everything that spilled out of his mouth. He put one hand flat on the glass towards her and licked his lips to try again. Enunciating as best he could, voice still just one notch below yelling, Beetlejuice said, “Pate. I’m stuck. Stuck! Help me get out, baby!” He put his forehead on the glass. The fingers on his outstretched hand, the one pressed palm side to the interior of the glass, trembled as well. The specter lifted his eyes back to her. “Please,” he pleaded.
Ordinarily after pulling a scare on her, Beetlejuice would be preening like the cat that caught the canary, punctuated with nuzzles and kisses to her forehead and cheeks and statements that he simply couldn’t help himself, she looked so cute when he caught her off guard.
This time, though, he looked positively frantic. His eyes were wide and desperate, his hand pressed flush against the inside of the glass. Pate’s eyes narrowed as his lips moved but she couldn't hear him. She did her best to discern what he was saying by reading his lips, but even then she could only make out a few words.
She thought she caught him say the words “stuck” and “help”. She swallowed, feeling an apprehensive flutter in her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. He was scared, and anything that could scare Beetlejuice was something to be deeply concerned about.
Questions began forming in her mind; how had he gotten himself stuck in her mirror? How could she get him out? The first thought that occurred to her was breaking the mirror, but somehow that didn’t seem like a good plan. What if it hurt him or something?
‘Come on, think!’ she told herself, reaching up to press her hand over the spot where his was in the glass.
Nothing Lillian had taught her seemed to be of any use, it was all about how to keep spirits and specters away, not letting them loose. At that thought she wondered darkly if Lillian might have something to do with this.
“Beej,” she said slowly, in case he couldn’t hear her, too. “Did Lillian do this? Because if she did, I’ll go talk to her right now.”
If the older woman somehow sealed her demon lover away, surely she had the ability to release him, Pate reasoned. And if it meant finally coming clean about having Beetlejuice around, if Lillian refused to teach her anymore because of it, then so be it. She just had to get him out of there.
Pate putting her hand against his, unable to touch, felt like they were miles apart instead of separated by a layer of glass. He swallowed and ran his free hand through his hair, hoping it wasn’t betraying his rising panic with some odd color. She must have picked up something from his spill of words, because she hit on the person who had done this: her mentor. Beej nodded at her query, but Pate’s announcement that she was going to talk to the older woman right now made him pound a fist on his side of the glass in anger and fear. “Yes it was Lillian! But baby don’t--don’t leave me here!” he shouted. “Pate--!” Frustrated and increasingly worried she was going to follow through with her idea to go to Lillian’s right now, walking away from him after he’d clawed his way and only by chance ended up where he wanted to be, Beetlejuice continued to pound on the mirror. A terrifying thought skipped through his head: What if she went back to Lillian’s and he needed to be in Lillian’s mirror to be let out?!
He’d have to get back to the old woman’s apartment. Frantically he glanced in the direction he’d entered this space and to his ultimate fear, it was once again plain unending white. There was no broken seam, no evidence he’d ever been anywhere but where he was right now. That threw him into a state of even more panic, and without warning Pate, he stepped away from the window.
A tentacle immediately nosed the spot he thought he’d come in, but found nothing. His fingers found nothing. The seam he’d torn apart was nonexistent. He’d have to find another to try and leave this mirror, and who knew where that would take him. Where would he be? Could he find his way back to Lillian’s? A whine that he now knew Pate couldn’t hear escaped his lips. Beej pushed himself back to his feet and went back to the window. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered.
tbc . . .
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tearsofgrace · 4 years
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written for suptober day 16: switch it up
so i decided to switch it up (heh) and do something i never do... go back to an old work and make it have a happy ending! 
enough of y’all talked me into this soooo here’s my part two to my piece for suptober day 5: daydream [you don’t need to have read the first part]
word count: 3.7k (total), 1.8k (this chapter), tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff, angst, djinn world, love confessions
this work is also on archive
It had been a few weeks since the case. Sam hadn’t mentioned it once, true to his wishes, but he knew it couldn’t last long. Every time he and Cas were in a room together Sam looked at him with a soft glance that almost always turned pained. Sam’s words echoed in his head, You could have that, you know. 
He was wrong. The djinn had created a nearly perfect world, but it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t let it be possible. And it wasn’t even because he knew Cas didn’t feel the same, it was because he didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve to be happy. 
Cas’ voice replaced Sam’s in his head. You don’t think you deserve to be saved, and he pushed it away. 
They were working. He needed to focus. 
He slid the book in front of him across the table to Sam and tapped on a section. “What about this? 
Sam looked over it, sliding his finger along the text and shrugged. “Could be,” he said thoughtfully, reading further down. “No. These only hunt on the Summer Solstice.” 
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
Dean let out a frustrated sigh and pulled the book back toward him. “Man, we been looking for this thing for days. It probably isn’t even our kind of thing.”
“I know. But we got no other leads, so,” Sam said with a shrug. 
Dean slammed his book shut, dust flying in the air. “Why don’t we go on a vacation or something?” 
Sam snorted. “A vacation?” 
“We always talk about it. Why don’t we just go for it?” 
Sam finally looked up from his book, running a hand through his hair. “We got a case.”
“So we call in Jodi and Donna. They’ve been looking for something anyway.” 
“Okay,” Sam said, confusion still painted across his face. “So, what you and I just-”
“And Cas,” Dean immediately interrupted. Inwardly, he cursed, but outwardly he held Sam’s gaze with what he hoped was a blank expression. Sam slowly raised one eyebrow, but it wasn’t snarky. It was full of pity. 
“One weekend, Sammy.”
Something on Sam’s face changed and Dean immediately regretted this. It was a stupid idea. Founded in a daydream he would never get. But now Sam had that look on his face he got when he was planning something, when he knew something Dean didn’t. 
“Fine. We’ll go on vacation, leave this hunt behind,” he paused, but he left something unspoken in the air. 
“What?”
“If,” Sam continued with a smirk, “You talk to Cas about the djinn world.” 
Dean’s eyes narrowed and he looked down at the table to harden his face before Sam could see his reaction. When he looked back up, Sam’s smirk had disappeared to be replaced with that stupid soft puppy dog look. “No.” 
“Dean-”
“Sam, I told you, okay? We aren’t talking about that ever again.” 
“Don’t you want that?” Sam said quietly. 
Dean could see himself in Cas’ arms again, his head pressed into his shoulder, firm arms holding him tightly. He could taste Cas’ lips against his own, could feel his steady weight and warmth, his scent filling his nose. He could see Sam’s eyes widen in understanding when he stepped into the room. 
“No,” he said finally. “He’s my best friend, man. The djinn got it wrong.” 
He knew Sam wouldn’t believe him. Knew that as much as he didn’t like talking about his emotions, his feelings, he wore them on his sleeve whether he wanted to or not. Sam had probably known about Cas for a long time. But this stupid dream, it gave him the opportunity to force a conversation. 
“You know it would be okay with me, right?”
“Yeah, well, there’s no “it,” okay? Please drop it,” Dean said, trying to control his voice, to not sound like he was begging. 
Sam just ignored him. “And I’d be okay if it wasn’t just Cas too.” 
Dean froze. This… they didn’t talk about this. They didn’t talk about the time Sam had come back to the motel early to find a man leaving. They didn’t talk about the boyfriend he’d had in high school that had lasted until John beat the shit out of both of them. They didn’t talk about it because it wasn’t a part of himself Dean wanted in the open. John was right. He was wrong, broken, useless. 
The silence that blanketed the room was heavy, suffocating, but Sam didn’t break it. He just kept looking at him, his eyes sincere but devoid of pity. Just ready to take whatever he said next and move on with it. And he was grateful for it. 
“Sam,” he started before stopping again. The silence had lifted and he could breath, could think. Then something inside him pushed him, decided to stop being a coward. “It wasn’t just Cas. For a long time. But now… it’s just him, Sam. He’s it for me.” The words caught in his throat, clawing their way past all his guilt, all his fear, all his years of self-hatred. But they made it out all the same. 
Sam smiled a little but dropped his eyes to the table to give Dean space. His eyes stayed down, and he left them there when he answered. Dean expected a speech. Countless empty words about acceptance and love and equality and support. But Sam just said two words. “Tell him.” 
Dean gulped and laughed bitterly. “Why? What’s the point?”
Sam finally raised his eyes and smiled gently into Dean’s veiled panic. “Just tell him. It’s time.”
Before Dean could answer, Cas entered the room and Dean closed his mouth firmly, blush spreading across his cheeks. 
Cas walked over to them and sat at the table, pulling up a book from the large stack in between them. 
“Have you figured out what we’re hunting?” he said, his eyes flicking between the two of them. If he picked up on the tension in the room, he didn’t say it. 
“Not yet,” Dean answered. His throat had gone dry and he gulped to fix it but that just sent him into a coughing fit. When he was done, Sam laughed and gestured to their closed books. 
“Dean actually wants to go on a vacation,” he said. Dean shot him a death glare, but he just shrugged. 
“Why?” 
Dean barked a short laugh. The answer was so purely, painfully Cas.
“For fun,” he said with a smile. He ignored Sam’s eye roll. So what if Cas made him smile? The angel didn’t feel the same and that was final. 
“Oh,” Cas said solemnly, nodding. “I assume we’ll give the case to some other hunters.” Sam nodded and Cas slid his book back toward the stack. 
“Where will we go?” 
“Well, nowhere until Dean helps me with something,” Sam said pointedly. 
“Helps you with what?” Cas said. And Dean wanted to bury his head in his hands, or better yet, sink underneath the floorboards to a world far away from this conversation. 
“There’s this case we were on a couple weeks ago,” Sam started, “I could really use his help remembering the details.” 
Dean rolled his eyes, trying to get rid of the panic crushing his chest. At least Sam was going to be smooth about this. 
“Why don’t you fill Cas in while I pack?” he said before standing. Dean watched him as he left. His hands had started to tremor a little, and he was sure his face was bright red. But at least Sam had given him the chance to say no. To fuck it all and live in misery for the rest of his life. 
Yeah, that’s the way to go, Winchester, a voice in his head whispered. 
“What was the case?” Cas said innocently, his eyes crinkled with concern. 
“A djinn,” Dean said. Those two words, he could do those. He could tell Cas a little bit more, too. He didn’t have to tell him what he’d dreamed. “I got caught. Got put under the djinn’s poison, and Sam saved me.” 
“What did you see?” 
Great. Of course that was where Cas jumped. Maybe it was his conversation with Sam, the quiet acceptance that still beat quietly in the room, but he considered it. If it went terribly, he wouldn’t lose Cas. He knew that. No matter how much he’d fucked up before, the angel had stuck by his side. So he wouldn’t lose him. But he would make things different. 
“You,” he said before he could change his mind. 
Cas tilted his head and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Me?” he asked slowly. 
“You,” Dean said with a gulp. He’d run out of words. 
Cas just stared at him, his face blank. But he could see behind Cas’ eyes, could see his wheels spinning, could feel him trying to understand, to read between the lines. 
“What about me?” he asked finally. 
Dean sought for the words to describe it. To tell Cas that they’d been happy. That they’d had everything. That they’d been everything to each other. But he couldn’t. 
After a minute of silence, Cas leaned forward. “Can I look?” he asked. 
Before Dean could back out--he was too far in--he nodded. Cas gently rested two fingers on his forehead, sending a shiver down his spine. And then the djinn world, hazy and dreamy, was playing again in his mind. He hadn’t been there long. Less than 24 hours. But even rewatching it play quickly before his eyes brought a small smile to his face. Brought the smell of Cas pressed closely to him back.
When Cas removed his fingers, he stood up and walked to stand next to where Dean stood. 
HIs heart was pounding in his chest, crawling up toward his throat. His body told him to run, to get far away while he was safe. But instead, he stood to meet Cas chest to chest. 
“Is that what you want?” 
Words spun rapidly in his head and he couldn’t grasp any of them, couldn’t string them together in a way that would tell Cas how badly he wanted it. So he just nodded again, waves of shame already crashing over him. 
Then Cas reached up and rested a hand on his face and ocean of guilt, of fear disappeared, fading away until it was just a dull presence in the back of his mind. He looked into Cas’ eyes, trying to read the softness there, but he got lost before he could. 
Without another word, Cas closed the gap between them. 
It was so much better than the daydream. So much better than a fake poison-induced existence. He felt like he was soaring, flying above the Earth and all it’s beauty. Cas tasted sweet against him, and the warmth radiating off him could have kept Dean warm in the middle of a snowstorm. 
He kissed softly, letting himself revel in every feeling, every emotion that overwhelmed him. 
When they pulled apart, he was still speechless. But this time it was because of the happiness filling his entire body. Cas pressed one more gentle kiss against his lips then pressed their foreheads together, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Dean’s neck. 
They stayed there, just breathing together. Then Cas smiled and ran a thumb over Dean’s lip. 
“We can have that.” 
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midnight1256 · 3 years
Text
The Child of Heaven and Hell
Prologue
The Beginning
Long ago when heaven and hell were not at war when everything was peaceful, when angels did their job to help humanity, and devils tried to tamper with their work. Yes everything was good in the world everyone did their job,
“ Some times,” a voice whispered.
“ AHEM!” a deep stern voice said.
A young teenager looked back at the adult rolling their eyes and sticking their tongue out at them, making the adult furrow their eyebrows at them in frustration.
“Fine, where was I,” the young teenager said, sighing at the adults frustration and not wanting to be punished again.
Yes everything was good in the world, everyone did their jobs properly, humanity was growing on earth, people were happy and healthy, the angelics were making sure that humans choose the right path for good and happiness and devils would try to make their lives worse by making the humans commit sins…
“ Why do I have to read it like this?” The teenager sighed in boredom.
“ Because this is how the prologue should be done if you want people to have an understanding of how everything started and how you came to be,” the adult said calmly while scribbling away at some documents not even bothering to look up at the bored teenager's face.
“ But it feels like I'm reading an old scripture with Osiris again,or how the start of every other god or celestial being story starts,” dropping their head to the table letting out a big dramatic sigh to show their boredom or the paper.
“ That is what you are doing you though writing your story of how you came to be who you are now, and I understand it's boring starting it like old scripture of how almost every gods stories start, but it is common and traditional to start it like this,” looking up at them showing empathy for how they feel.
“ I’m not like those oldie foldies though, I'm the new generation. I want to start it differently, please?” clasping their hands together hoping for the adults approval.
“ Fine do what you wish,” letting out another sigh and getting back to work as the teen let out a quiet ‘yes’ for their success reaching over to grab a new piece of paper to start over.
Prologue II
The Beginning
Okay so like a really long time ago before the 300 year war between Heaven and Hell everything you could say was normal for that time period. Heaven had its job helping humanity and whatever else they do and Hell just sorta interfered and messed with humans and taught them things the angels didn't want to teach them because it was a sin, like how demons taught humans about pleasure and exploring sexualities, now that was awesome.
Now the thing is not every angel, human, or devils did their job, some were lazy others might have been on vacation and yes angels and devils get vacations so it can be really hard to take care of humanity now and then.
And sometimes they were doing other people's jobs, because despite what humans think angels had a lot of work to do a LOT of work it's like running an entire corporation up here that never sleeps and you can find overworked or collapsed angels from exhaustion everywhere. But on the bright side they do get days off like sundays that's a good side at least.
“ What are you doing!” The angel stood up from their chair with their wings spread wide showing their anger, “ You shouldn’t be telling things like that in your story, especially if humans might read this.”
“ Oh put your wings down your not intimidating anyone you overgrown dove,” the teenager looked back at the annoyed angel crossing their arms, “ It's not like it will do any harm where in the 21th century either the humans believe it or they don't believe it, or they think it's a fictional book that someone wrote because they were bored and the other gods wouldn’t care ether.”
The angel sighed sitting back down at their desk somewhat agreeing with the irrational teenager after what humanity had to go through in the past year they don’t think humans or gods would be surprised if a story like this was was put into the archives, letting out another sigh the angel picked up their pen and went back to looking at documents letting the teen continue with their story.
“ So like I was saying,” the teen said enthusiastically.
Angels are overworked and so are devils but not as much, they also are not as happy doing the stuff they do I mean ya some of them like doing the things they do but not all of them do not every angel or devil is happy with what they do some are even depressed, not all devils take joy in messing or torturing humans and not every angel likes having a lot of paperwork on their desk or helping humans with their problems and being divine holy messengers hell angels and devils have their own version of suicide in both worlds.
So in conclusion both hell and heaven has its ups and downs and because of this is how a war started, beautiful uncle Lucifer saw god abuse his power against humanity so he declared war against him for his throne which is how the 300 year war started.
Now somewhere near the end of the war no one really knows how it happened but it did and no one can still explain it to me for the love of god but an angel got pregnant, with a devil's child, in heaven, during a 300 year war, where many angels fell from heaven.
But lucky enough this beautiful angel did not get ejected from heaven, even though she was pregnant with a demon devil?
“ What am I, am I half demon or half devil?” The teenager looked at the adult in curiosity still wondering what her other half was.
The adult looked up at the teen and all they could do was shrug their shoulders.
“ How many centuries have I been alive and we still don't know what my other half is, you know what never mind,” turning back around and continuing writing their paper.
So at the end the war Lucifer and many other angels had fallen and I was born, for some reason no one really questioned it when I was born everyone had their wonders and doubts but people for some reason turned a blind eye and never told the higher up, heck I didn’t even look like I had half blood in me I looked like a normal angelic child like all the other kids, so ya my mom got away with a half blood angel.
And it was like this for many years. I grew up in Heaven with my mom and other angels and angelic children everything was fine, until I started to reach the double digits.
As It started to approach my 10th birthday that's when my mom started to notice some changes in my form, a small nub started to appear on my head and my halo started to droop down to the side diagonally and one of my wings began to dull of it’s pearly white color, so she decided to do some research and the results were not that pleasing.
Up until now my mother had thought I might have been more angelic than demonic, but every- thing she had thought was wrong, that small nub on my head was a horn growing and my halo who knew what's happening to it.
So for a while my mother had me stay in my room so she could watch me and as the days went on the horn grew bigger and the halo kept drooping to the side, until one day half of my halo just broke off leaving the other half at a constant angle in my hair and the horn grew bigger until it grew into the shape of a rams horn and one of my wings had fully blacked as dark as the deepest night.
And by my tenth birthday I finally looked like the half breed I was and I finally learned what I was, that I was half angelic and half demonic, I was known as a Nephalem a threat to both angelic and demonic, what would happen to me, what would people do to me if they found out who I was, would I die.
But my mother would not let that happen so she told me,
“ Don’t worry my child, go lay down and take a nap to clear your head. You'll feel better when you wake up.” so I went to take a nap but what I didn’t know is what was happening while I was asleep.
She looked down at her child as they were wrapped in a blanket kissing her forehead gently while handing them over to the cloaked figure.
“ And she will be safe no harm will come to her,” the mother said in worry to the cloaked figure. She couldn’t believe she was doing this but she had to, to protect her child.
“ Yes she will be fine, we will put her in a human family and hide her true form and her memories,” a man said in a deep voice holding the child carefully in his arms.
“ I must get going now, thank you again, Lucifer,” the mother said making her way back to heaven.
As Lucifer turned around holding the child in his arms and walked into the foggy night disappearing into the night.
This my first time posting one of my writings so please be gentle if this blows up I might start writing more and other themes like BNHA and Twisted Wonderland and Obey me but I hope people will like it.
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