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skycitiesandtheforsaken · 3 months

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Beautiful Static: The prequel/introduction to the android farming sim 'Skycities and the Forsaken Vol. 1'

It does not follow the MC, rather a secondary character, but still, I hope you'll give it a read and introduce yourself to the setting a bit!

Beautiful Static

As Zizi ran through the halls of the Sky City, no one noticed her among the chaos. One thought kept repeating through her head as she rushed through the alleys and halls:

He’s going to hate me.

But the thought was followed by another.

I don’t care anymore.

Zizi knew exactly what she was doing, and exactly what effect it would have on everyone, on everything, here in Sky City 236. She knew that she would be hated. She knew that the city would fall from the sky. She hoped that perhaps part of the station would still be attached to the pillar, but she didn’t know. Alarms blared all around her, but she didn’t listen. She just hurried. She didn’t know if Zero would follow her or not, but she did know one thing.

She didn’t care. There was life down on the land. She knew that now, and she knew what the leaders were going to do now that they knew.

Declare war once again. On anything alive down there. There were trees again, plants; there were people in the waters that were being plucked from their waters, and even if that was the only remnant of humanity, she couldn’t stand for—

She hesitated as she was walking past a science facility. Huh. A truck that hadn’t been unloaded. Perfect to steal and get out of here.

She walked through the gate, past the blaring sirens. She didn’t give any attention to the people—androids that they were, they were all people—in the room, as they weren’t fighters, but she did fight them off and out of the way, shoving the last one off the ship with her foot as she climbed into the cockpit. She glanced back. There was a waterfolk in a tank. Well. She’d let that passenger come along.

With that, she set off into the unknown. There wasn’t much fuel in this tank, but hopefully enough to make it to the ground safely, hopefully to water to let her new ‘friend’ free.

She glanced back one last time, and saw him, his eyes troubled, as he shoved past everyone, reaching his hands out of the closing city behind her. She sighed and gave a bitter smile as she turned away for the last time.

He would make it. She had turned his anti-G mode on high enough to get him to the ground intact. The rest? Well…

The rest was nothing but a field of beautiful static. That was all life was, after all…

An anomaly. Static in a void. Beautiful static in a void.

Zero

Zero had been trying to catch up to Zizi for weeks, no, months, but she was so many steps ahead of him. He had seen that she was on the list to be Recycled and did his best to push it to the back of the line—he couldn’t find a reason that she was, however...but he thought he had figured it out even before the sirens blared in Sky City 236, even before he finally, finally caught a glimpse of her. She was corrupted.

She must’ve been infected by a virus in her work. That was why she was off work! It had to be. She had to have put herself on leave so that she could try to work out the virus. To work through it, get rid of it—but Zero should’ve noticed sooner, it shouldn’t have taken her being on the Recycling list. He should’ve been there—He should have been there for her!

Instead, he was so focused in on his work. So focused in on himself, trying to come up with a way to propose to her, thinking that he had to be perfect—and in it, he had nearly lost her—well…

Not so much...nearly. She was clearly corrupted beyond saving...well, had anyone tried after someone was that far along? He didn’t know. They were always Recycled. She had been pushing him away, telling him that she just needed rest, a break...but when he looked up her records she had been doing anything but staying still.

Zero should have noticed sooner. Zizi was everything to him. Zizi…

He reached his hand out through the closing wall, watching her fly off. He swallowed.

This city was going to fall from the sky. If he was going to die...he wanted to touch open air just once.

And so, he shoved his way through the opening, throwing himself out of the city. He saw the flailing bodies of many others who had chosen the same, but…

He wasn’t...falling as quickly. Still, he watched Zizi and the ship flying downward way faster than he did, but in a controlled manner. She’d reach the ground before him at this rate. Why was he falling so slowly.

Wait...the last call they’d been on. The email that Zizi sent...it pinged. It had...an update?

Was that why he was—no, he was going to be corrupted, too! That’s the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, worse than falling with the rest of the city, worse than being Recycled—right?

Right?

Zizi was corrupted, right?

And...he had to find her. Save her. If he...if he made it to the ground safe.

Maybe he wasn’t going to be corrupted too, but Zizi was...there was no cure, but he’d find one. He’d find a way to save her. Because...because she’d save him.

Zizi

The ship made it to the ground, but not much further. It sputtered out of power, luckily near some river somewhere. She sighed and looked at the tank with the river person. She sighed and walked over.

“Wonder how heavy you are, big guy?” she pondered as she tried to figure out how to open the tank. “I’d love to know all about your life, your culture, everything...I’d bet it’d be fascinating.” She sighed.

She jumped back with a yelp as he pounded his tail against the sides of the tank, trying to break it. “Hey, hey! I’m trying to help you out of there!” she said. “I know you can’t understand me, probably, but…”

She paused for a moment before sighing. “Well. If breaking’s the only way, then…” She shifted her hand into a point that ended in a blunt tip. She pressed it against the glass with all her might, and the glass shattered. The entire tank. “Hope that didn’t hurt you, big guy.”

She jumped backwards as tail switched to legs and he climbed to his feet, all seven feet tall of him. He looked at her calmly before looking himself over for injuries. He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he hissed out of vocal chords clearly not used to such speech.

“Uh...you’re welcome.” She blinked a few times. “Uh...Do you need any more help?”

“Probably not that you can offer.”

“Hit me with it.”

“This is a river, but I don’t know in what way it connects with the one where my mate is. I was captured—but you seem to know that much.”

“Oh…” She swallowed.

“But, you might be able to help—but you seemed to have some kind of plan, and I don’t want to interrupt it.”

“No. No plan. Just…” She sighed and looked away. “No plan. What the hell was I thinking?!? Am I corrupted?!?” She laughed bitterly. “There was a plan. But now that I’m here, now that my home is falling from the sky in pieces…”

“What was the plan?”

Zizi was quiet in response...she didn’t have one at that moment.

“I can’t stay out of the water much longer.”

“This thing has a boat on it.”

“It has a motor.”

“It’ll row.”

“With what?”

She laughed lightly and shifted her arms into long oars. “I can’t let my core get wet, but I certainly can let my arms get wet.” She shifted them back.

“What are you?”

“Android.”

“Eh?”

“Uh...artificial human?”

“Oh...that makes sense.” He tilted his head.

“You have a name, big guy?”

“Aura. You?”

“Zizi.”

“Right. Zizi...if we have to meet the sea, just know, the seafolk are a violent group. I know that I can’t take them on—but you might be able to figure out how to get us away.”

“Can do.” She smiled. “Now, to the water you go.”

He got into the water, and Zizi got the boat and put it on the water.

“You ready?” He asked, popping his head out of the water.

“Yep. Just pop up once in a while.”

“I...I’m not great with rivers,” Aura admitted. “I’m a lakefolk, but my mate was teaching me how to be a riverfolk.”

“They sound nice.”

“He is…”

“Let’s get you back to him.”

“Right…”

And so, they started their way down the river.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” Zizi asked, looking down into the water at Aura.

“Do you have a mate?”

Zizi paused. “Yeah...I guess I do. Or rather, did.” Zizi looked up toward the sky, where the city once stood. Instead, only rubble.

“Oh. He fell with the city.”

Zizi swallowed. “But that’s okay.” She nodded.

“That’s...okay?”

Zizi shook her head. “You see, I was corrupted.”

“Corrupted?”

“I actually prefer the term ‘enlightened’. Basically, through a virus, I was attached to the mainframe, and overcome by horrible, horrible knowledge.” She sighed.

“I recognized the last part of it, so I think I understand.”

Zizi smiled. “But that’s okay. He’s with me now. In my head.”

“Your mate?”

“No. Another.” She smiled and closed her eyes. “He understands me better than Zero ever did. Though, I do wish that Zero didn’t hate me.” Zizi sighed. “I don’t regret knocking down the city as I went. They were kidnapping you water folk. Saw signs of life and were going to exterminate it. It was awful! I couldn’t let that happen, and then he unlocked powers within me. Now I can transform my own body. I can touch others to change their composition as well.”

“Huh. That’s fascinating. We’d just say you went insane.” Aura sounded calm as he said so. “Or, perhaps, as you said, ‘enlightened.’”

Zizi nodded. “Yeah…I know. But as for me. I was on the list for Recycling. Or, being scrapped, in other words.”

“Oh. Killed.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Maybe I didn’t have to go out in such a blaze of glory, but hey, I saved you in it.” She smiled. “No regrets. He’s with me now.” She closed her eyes. “He hasn’t spoken to me in a while, but he will again, I just know it. And when he does, I’ll be ready.”

“I hope that you don’t harm me or those I love, otherwise, you do you.”

She sighed. “I won’t. With Sky City 236 gone, all there is is...beautiful, beautiful static.”

#original writing #androids #post apocalyptic #indie game dev #my writing

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aquillis-main · 1 year

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Ignoring Jehtt's parody for a sec

-It was 200 years of Iblis. I legit don't think there's a profit to scamming people into thinking they can save the future. 2-3 gens directly tied to the Great Disaster already are dead, and GUN seems gone too

-We already beat Iblis only to see him reincarnate again. We can already infer Silver beat him many times with no difference. In fact, he legit considers giving up in frustration

-Mephiles wouldn't even be the first suspect. Blaze's fire powers scared survivors, but Silver stood by her (sadly this is in bios)

-The intro CG cutscene notes the generational divorce from the event. No one knew where Iblis came from cuz it's been so long, only that it ravaged the planet for eons. Silver is noted to question the origin, getting nothing

So yeah, I'll take hearing this shifty stranger's new theory, cuz repeatedly killing Iblis 3 million times is doing nothing but exhaust me, regardless if I die to this stranger or not. It's not like I can make this worse (in my context)

Other things;

-Silver's reaction to Meph saying to time travel:

Not "oh yeah I immediately believe you" like 90% of parodies, it's him gauging interest after dismissing the first prompt

Even to Meph saying "Oh yeah, I can time travel" it's more dismissal (though tinged with amazement)

when Meph notes the Iblis Trigger the first time, both Blaze and him just ponder a sec before hesitating to ask if killing him would save the world, their first true mistake. But again, better than just mindlessly killing Iblis over and over

Then Meph bothers bringing articles on screen showing the Egg Carrier's crash and release of Iblis, then the Emerald showing Sonic's visage in the fire (glares slightly more angry), Blaze being perturbed cuz she knows of one, and Meph immediately time traveling them before much of anything can be said in protest

If it were me, I'd have them question how he found this info, with him revealing that he stumbled upon a Chaos Emerald that showed him the image of a blue hedgehog (which he'll show to Silver like OG, only with Sonic expressing better than wood), leading him to do research on him, and finding the article of Elise dying in a crash despite his chase. He'll then note research of time travel done in GUN logs of when they checked Eggman's base after the crash, noting the process being risky. Silver and Blaze can ask why he can't do it, which...I mean look at him, he's deformed and barely hobbling (interestingly nowhere as much as the Shadow release scene, or later twirl), likely frail as heck (we know he isn't if we the audience played Shadow's story first). He'll attract unwanted attention outside supposed fraility, vs how the powerful Blaze/Silver look a smidge more stable. They'll admit having nothing to lose/repetition, then Meph warps them

But otherwise, I feel the Silver bias is glossing events a wee bit too much, and parodies aren't helping. It's legit wanting to break useless repetition that drives most of Silver's hasty actions

"But he looks evil"

The entire world is homeless. Being remotely not brazen is an anomaly if anything (Blaze at least has an excuse)

Also what's he gonna do, jump the guy that has psychokinesis? He looks weak as hell

I still think that Silver shouldn't have jumped to follow Mephiles so easily when the latter spouted out shit about 'Chickens and eggs', especially since it seems he and Blaze just willingly follow Mephilies into his crack den of info he shouldn't have. I'm sorry, but I feel Silver just hopped on a little too quickly. If there was a scene of him and Blaze arguing with each other about going to follow, I'd buy it a lot more than it is now. However, since the cutscenes skip that moment and have Silver and Blaze immediately follow Mephiles to his crack den without thinking, it still comes across to me as Silver and Blaze being stupid, not naive.

I appreciate you trying to help clear out some aspects of this, but without the key moment of Silver and Blaze arguing about going to listen to Mephiles or not, it comes across as an idiot kid being taken by a guy with a white van to me, especially since the only time Silver stops to consider his decision is when Amy tells him to not kill Sonic and dashes off. After that, he doesn't ever really question if he's doing the right thing, and just blindly trusts the guy that showed him a vision of Sonic in fire with a really pissed off look, and not much other information besides anecdotal evidence.

#Aquillis Answers #kinopioa #Silver the Hedgehog #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic 06

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nuk-terrible · 3 years

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People acting like Bellamy wasn’t loved enough at the end, as if he didn’t betray all his friends, turn in Clarke and Raven to get tortured, and then said he’d let all his friends die if it came to it... maybe he didn’t love them enough

#the 100 #Bellamy Blake #you can’t pick and choose which parts of canon are true based on what you personally liked or disliked...#also eff anyone who says Echo didn’t care about his death #or didn’t care about him or love him #she followed him with no hesitation into the anomaly to go save him #trained for 5 years to go rescue him #and when she thought he died the first time she was brought to tears and tried to avenge him by killing his kidnappers/captors/murderers #AND THE FANDOM HATED ECHO FOR IT #Echo is damned if she does damned if she doesn’t with the fandom #she cries over him and tries to avenge him and fandom says she’s grieving wrong. She accepts he made his choice and chooses forgiveness and #fandom says she’s grieving wrong 🙄 so just shut up about Echo plz #and for the record - Disciple Blake can suck it #he sold them all out immediately and chose to blindly follow Cadogan #Clarke ran into his arms to hug him and let him know what’s going on and HE TURNED RIGHT AROUND AND TOLD CADOGAN EVERYTHING #and even after that Echo tried to reason with him she TOLD Bellamy who these people were and what they’re capable of #she trained to pass as one and assimilate into their culture she underwent fear simulations and was psychologically tortured by them #she told him he was forgetting who he was and who his family was. she TRIED to understand him and reach out to him and he chose Cadogan #meanwhile Clarke made fun of his outfit and told him to go float himself 🙄

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aquilaofarkham · 3 years

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title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought.

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️ Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity.

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.”

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician.

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

“I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough.

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

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literaila · 3 years

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hopeless reality

BAU team x reader

request: Hii! I’m in serious need of some angsty sshhiiiit and I love your writing... Could you maybe write some platonic BAU x reader where the reader is the youngest, idk she can be like 20 or something, and a case goes TERRIBLY wrong and she’s injure dying and everyone’s like but she can’t die, she was supposed to outlive us all!

warnings: kinda sad, panicked everyone, hotch basically abandons all of them, some spoliers past season 6, no concrete ending..

a/n: I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS ITS SO DIFFERENT

“I can do it.”

Those words weren't surprising for any of them.

As the youngest, Y/N was always looking for new ways to prove herself to all of them. She was used to the staring, and the scoffs people made when they saw her next to the all mighty prestigious BAU team. She was used to people looking at her and wondering if they had picked someone up off of the highway, or if she was a murder just riding along with them. She was used to being undermined and underestimated by everyone.

Age was a tricky little thing people didn't seem to look past.

But it wasn't as if she put up with it. When the local police officers were making side remarks about her right behind her back, she didn't keep her mouth shut. Didn't stand there and listen to them expect nothing of her.

And she enjoyed the looks on their faces when they realized she was listening. She liked the stammered apologies that came out of their mouths while she stared them down.

She wasn't one to bite her tongue.

And she had something to prove, to herself and to all of her teammates. She had to show them that she was valuable, that her age didn't affect how much she could do, how much she was willing to do.

And so, it was expected when she offered herself up like a doll for sale.

It's what happens during every case.

This time though, all of her teammates nodded along with her. It was a man closer to her age, only a couple of years older, and she was the most likely to lure him. The most likely to trap him in the prison of being caught.

“Okay, Y/L/N will go in, Morgan and Rossi follow her in as backup, blend into the crowd.” Everyone awaited Hotch's formal orders, ready to finally be done with the case that had taken them days to solve. “You three need to remember, he's going to be on the lookout for us, he's definitely seen the news by now.”

The three of them nodded, Y/N already antsy on her feet as she waited to leave. Definitely the most willing to catch him out of anybody else in the room.

She nodded at the rest of the team, smiling at Garcia’s “See you soon Neptune! Be careful.” from the phone on the table. She grabbed her bag, filled with clothes that would help her fit into the bar scene, and her vest. Just in case.

She started to walk out the door, trailing after Morgan and Rossi as they got ready to leave when Hotch called her back into the room.

Everyone else had already left, and her nerves were telling her to continue walking and get to her job, but out of anyone else there, she was used to being pulled back behind.

“Yeah, Hotch?”

“You shouldn't hesitate to call in Derek or Dave, this unsub isn't going to stick around if he suspects something. You know that?”

It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at his protective instincts, instead going for a smile, hoping to ease whatever paternal nerves he could be feeling.

“Course, Hotchner. I know what to do.”

She nodded at him, choosing not to stay any longer than she had to, saving herself from his double-checking, and reassuring.

She waved with one of her hands walking out the door.

Wearing a dress and both a bulletproof vest was extremely uncomfortable. Especially when it was supposed to be discreet.

Y/N sat in the middle of the bar, sipping on a fake drink, throwing smiles to anybody who seemed to look at her, waiting for the one person she needed looks from to approach her.

She knew what to expect, an alpha male, expecting her to fall under his wing and go with him home- which of course would be when he would torture and murder her like he did all those other girls -and she wasn't going to let herself slip up when he was so close.

A couple of guys had come up to her already, asking her if she was new around if she needed some help getting home, if she was lost in a bar like this one. All things that she tried not to show disgust at, smiling and telling them she was expecting someone.

Though, when she saw him, she knew he would be different.

He was carrying himself differently. Smirking at everyone else, unlike a normal too confident male would. It was more threatening, like he expected everyone in the room to do whatever he said, whenever he said.

An alpha male.

Y/N could tell in almost an instant that this was her guy, and that it was time to put on a show.

It was an easy catch. The bait pulled him perfectly.

And she played the part just as expected.

Laughing at everything he said, smiling at him whenever she got the opportunity, drinking the drink she knew he was planning to spike soon.

It was a rehearsed part, one she was exceptional at.

But, when he started pushing her, begging her to come home with him, promising her that he would make it worth her while, she didn't know what to do.

With the last girls, he had waited longer, drugged them before he even dared to take them home, stayed at the bar with them so that they would be more comfortable with him.

But it had only been twenty minutes, only a short minute since he had first looked at her.

He was devolving too fast.

Y/N smiled, trying not to let the sudden nerves she felt show in her eyes, trying to keep herself comfortable sitting so close to him.

She looked over to Derek, who was sitting across the bar, pretending to drink while he listened to their conversation. He was looking back at her, giving her a look that she knew was asking if she was okay, if she knew what to do. He was worried too.

She took a quiet deep breath in.

“I haven't finished my drink yet,” she said, playing dumb, trying to act like she was innocent enough, trying to test him.

“I have plenty of drinks back at my place.”

She giggled, playing with the bracelet on her wrist, looking back over to Derek.

“It's so early in the night…” She whispered, flaunting her confidence, playing off her “drunkenness” as best as she could while still smiling at him.

But she could tell that he was getting impatient, and wasn't willing to wait anymore.

“What game are you playing?”

And she could hear his real voice. Not the man that went to strange bars to pick up women, but the man who murdered them as soon as he took them home. The man who was planning to murder her.

She looked over to Derek once more, once too much.

The unsub was looking with her, glaring eyes meeting Derek’s, and the reaction was written out in front of all of them.

He had seen Derek on TV. Seen him with the FBI.

He turned back around, his hand slipping to his pocket.

“You’re with them huh?” He was whispering, but his voice was demanding, furious.

And the giggle that came out Y/N wasn't fake this time, just nervous.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, her feet tapping on the barstool, her body getting ready to run, trying to smile.

“The FBI.”

He spat the words in her face. The smile falling from her lips.

The hand moving to point at her.

What was it she wondered?

What was pain?

“Physical pain inspires the worst kind of helplessness.”

Ambulances were surprisingly loud.

Louder than you’d assume.

They were threatening, and dangerous, and did nothing to help give you hope.

Derek didn't get scared. He didn't need hope to keep him upright, he wasn't threatened by any of the ambulances that he had seen before, he didn't find them too loud.

But he was supposed to be protecting her.

They all knew, going into the bar, before the bar, that it was dangerous. They all knew that there was a strong possibility that she could get hurt. But she was cautious, and she was brave. So he didn't worry. He didn't think he had to worry. Even with an unsub who was known for lashing out, for making big decisions with no thought. Hotch had told Derek, all of them, that this would be harder than normal, that they needed to be more watchful, more careful.

She’d been laughing with them in the car on the way over. Telling them that if either Derek or Rossi got in the way of her job, she’d disown them as her friends. She’d laughed and joked with them, not an ounce of fear in her eyes, no anxiety resting upon her body.

But he saw that look in her eyes.

That strange scared look.

It was unfamiliar, an anomaly to him. He’d never seen her eyes like that.

She was the youngest, the most daring, the person who offered to do anything that no one else wanted to.

She laughed when one of them said they were too tired to go out for drinks, offered to watch both Hotch and JJ kids when they were busy. She moved between them like she was mending with them, and she was everyone's best friend.

She took too many risks, moved too fast, thought too hard. She did everything on a whim, but it was impossible to stop her. Impossible to fade her from the scene. Impossible for anything to scare her like it would any person.

He’d never had to worry about her before.

She’d made it clear that she could take care of herself, that she was strong, that just because she was the youngest and most inexperienced, it didn't mean she couldn't do what any one of them could.

She was so strong.

And he’d never seen that look in her eyes before.

Desperation, trepidation. Two things that had never filled his body like in that moment.

He could see the unsub moving, he could see her worried eyes, her panicked posture. He saw everyone else around them, moving normally, none of them quite as scared as she was. He saw Rossi looking over at him from the bar.

And he saw the gun in the unsubs hands.

He wished he had been paying attention more, watching her, checking to make sure she seemed just fine. He wished he had watched the unsub, checked to make sure he couldn't see any weapons on him. He wished that he could’ve done it all over again, asked her to step back, to let him catch the guy.

And he wished he could’ve been fast enough.

The unsub had pulled out the gun, had stared at her with his threatening eyes, and she moved back, tried to get away but, she wasn't fast enough, and the unsub was too quick.

Derek had watched her stumble backward. He watched the pain light in her eyes and the panic fade out.

She used to tease him about watching everything.

“We aren't at work, you don't have to profile everyone in the room, Derek.”

Then she’d pass him a drink. Tell him that it was supposed to be fun, that they all needed a little more fun in their lives.

But now, all Derek needed was to get her eyes out of his head.

Her eyes were so desperate and panicked and worried for everyone, for everything. Her eyes were usually so brave and so curious.

He needed to get them out of his head, he needed this moment to be over.

He needed to not be sitting in the back of an ambulance with her.

It was surprisingly loud.

And scary.

He’d never been scared like this before.

Rossi wasn't worried.

He wasn't. Really.

He knew her, knew how fast her body would spring back, rejuvenate itself. He knew that she was strong, that she could stand any amount of pain, that when he saw her next she would be smiling, and she’d ask him if this meant they could have a party.

He knew she’d be fine.

He wasn't allowed to go in the ambulance with Y/N and Derek. The paramedics assured both him and Derek that only one could go, and Rossi could see the time slipping past them. He could see the clock ticking and he knew that they had to speed things up.

So, he’d pushed Derek into the ambulance.

He wasn't worried, so why would he go with her?

Besides, Derek was scared. He was shut down and focused so much on her, Rossi thought that Derek would have fought him for the place in the ambulance.

He thought about all the people he’d seen get hurt while working this job. Thought about all the times one of them made a mistake, or someone wasn't quick enough. Most of the time, they were fine. Not many people got hurt on the job.

There was always a couple weeks of leave, a couple weeks to get themselves back together, but they always came back.

He hadn't seen too many people die.

So he wasn't worried. The odds were that she would live. The odds were that she would be completely fine by the time he got to the hospital.

Because she was strong. She was healthy, had a young body, and more energy than she needed in the first place.

Rossi thought it might be good for her to slow down. This might be a good experience for someone like her. Someone who takes too many risks, goes out on a whim, and doesn't slow down even when she has the chance.

This might help her become a better agent. Someone more careful.

He wasn't worried.

She’d be fine.

Really.

JJ got the news first.

Back at the police department, while they were clearing up. She knew that Derek, Hotch, and Rossi all knew. She knew that the unsub had clued into who Y/N was, she knew that Derek and Rossi hadn't been enough to protect her. She knew that Y/N was on her way to the hospital, that she’d been shot in the field.

They didn't tell her where. Or how she was doing.

JJ had been here before. She had been in the situation of not knowing, of constant anxiety, of the questions that just bang back and forth in your head until you can get your answers.

She knew how that felt.

She looked over to Spencer and Emily, both of them clueless to what was going on, to their friend being brought to the hospital.

“Have you got the unsub detained?” She whispered, leaving the room, trying to gather all of the facts before she made assumptions.

“Yes. He's on his way to the police station now.”

“And no one else was hurt?”

“No.”

JJ nodded to herself, feeling relieved at the news.

The questions were in her head, spinning around. She knew that she wouldn't have any of them answered any time soon. Not until they could get into the hospital and see her.

“And JJ?”

Hotch’s voice was the same as always. Demanding.

“Yes?”

“I need you to tell Spencer and Emily.”

“Hotch-”

“I’ve got to go.”

And then she was left. With her news. And her questions.

And her confusion.

Of how this could ever have happened.

Hotch wasn't allowed to have a reaction. He wasn't allowed to think about it.

He was working. He had to do his job.

Members of his team had been shot before.

They all knew the risk there was in going in. They all knew how disguises couldn't hide everything. And they all knew that people got hurt doing the job.

It wasn't surprising. Wasn't anything new.

But she had reassured him. She had told him she knew what she was doing, she knew what she was doing.

He had believed her.

He could hear his voice in her head, telling all of them that she would do it. Like she always did. Like every other time, she got the chance.

She never took a step back, never looked at the situation before offering to go.

It was reckless and stupid.

No one ever said a thing. When she offered to be the bait, all of them accepted it, expected it. They all knew that she would be the first to jump at the chance to go out in the field. They all knew that she was smart and strong, and she knew what she was doing.

None of them ever said no. It was so hard to say no to her.

But she had reassured him, Hotch had double-checked this time, just to make sure she would be safe. He put two experienced agents as her back up, two people that he trusted and knew would protect her.

“I can do it.”

She could do it.

She’d been shot.

And he felt like blaming himself, felt like being angry, furious at her for offering to go, for reassuring him and lying, and he felt like being angry at himself for letting him go, for not properly preparing her.

But he didn't have time to ponder those thoughts.

He didn't have the time.

He couldn't have a reaction.

He had a job to do.

He was working.

He wouldn't think of it.

Emily probably knew better than anyone else.

She was probably most familiar with pain. With hurt.

She knew how this would affect her, she knew how she would feel. She knew how it would change her even after she was healed. She knew how the scar would never leave her body, and that she would wince every time she saw it.

No matter how much Emily wished she wouldn't understand, she did.

She knew what would happen to Y/N.

If she lived that is. If she was strong enough, if the bullet wasn't stronger than her. If she wasn't too late, if the doctors could save her. If she would stay alive.

And she would be there this time.

If she died. If the world was cruel enough to take her away.

She would have to be with her friends, she wasn't allowed to run away again. She wasn't allowed to go across the world and break alone, she wasn't allowed to turn her back like she had before. Even if she wanted to. Even if running away seemed like the only thing she could do. She would stand by them, and learn what it felt like to have your friend die.

But she wouldn't come back.

That was probably the hardest thought.

If Y/N died, she wouldn't have the opportunity to come back. She wouldn't have the months to heal, the job across the world, she would have the pain of knowing that her friends thought she was dead, but she also wouldn't have any pain.

She’d be dead. Gone. Forever.

And Emily knew what that meant.

It almost killed her to know that.

When she watched Spencer freeze as JJ told both of them, when she saw the worry in JJ’s eyes, she knew that the only thing she could do was be there for all of them. For her, if she could. And for them, if she had to.

It was a scary thing to know your friend was hurt. To know that while everything else in the world stayed the same, several hearts were breaking with the knowledge of the pain their friend was in. It was crazy to think that not everyone's world changed.

It was selfish of her to be thinking of herself, to be avoiding the memories and the thought that came with Y/N being dead. It was selfish to assume she was. It was selfish that she wasn't doing anything to help her friends, to help herself. It was terrible of her not to hope, not allow herself to feel some relief.

But she had to protect herself.

Expect the worse, welcome the best.

Emily was scared. She was scared for Y/N, scared to be there this time, scared to have to hold everyone together like she couldn't before. Scared for the worse to be the reality. For her friend to really be gone.

She could hear her laugh in her head. She knew that it wouldn't leave. It wouldn't go away until Emily could hear it again.

Pain.

She was so familiar with. She was so used to.

Pain.

Emily probably knew that better than anyone else.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

That's all Spencer knew.

He didn't know what was going to happen, if she would live, if she would die, if she was okay, if she wasn't. He didn't know what they would do without her, what would happen if she really did die, if the youngest died before any of the oldest could.

He didn't know how everyone would feel, how he would feel if she died.

He didn't know what any of them would do without her laughter, without her pushing for them to have fun when work was over, without her running around the office, making everything seem bright when it was nothing but dim.

He didn't know what would happen. What was happening?

But he knew

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

He knew that if he could see her, if he had more information about what had happened, he could figure out the probability that she would live. He knew that if he had been there, he would know how to feel, what was going to happen.

But they were sitting in the hospital waiting room. They couldn't see her yet.

Derek hadn't said a word. Emily was sitting next to Spencer. JJ was walking around, checking on all of them instead of herself, being as selfless as she could while they were all stuck in a state of panic.

Rossi was talking to the nurse again.

There still wasn't any news.

None of them were sure how she could’ve been hurt, with her vest, and her self defense techniques. None of them were sure how hurt she could be.

But

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

Spencer held onto that.

She wouldn't be one of the hundred. She wouldn't.

He thought of the sleepovers Y/N, Garcia, and he had. Like children. He thought of how both of them spent the entire night picking on him, trying to make him laugh. He thought of how she always convinced the two of them to come over, told them that it was movie night even if it was a completely random day.

He hated the thought of not doing that anymore.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

She was the youngest. Everyone teased her about it. They all expected her to live for a hundred years, far longer than any of them could. She was the youngest and the brightest and the bravest. She wasn't supposed to die before any of them could.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

When she had offered to be the bait, Spencer hadn't felt worried. He didn't even think of her getting hurt, only felt relieved that this case would finally be over, that they could all go home. He didn't worry at all.

But he should have.

Because she always did this, she always offered, and no one ever turned her down. The odds were that she should’ve gotten hurt long before this.

Odds were that she was extremely lucky.

Except for now.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

Spencer didn't know what would happen. He didn't know if she would live, if she would die. He didn't know what would happen. He barely knew anything at all.

But Derek wasn't talking, Emily was silent, JJ was avoiding the topic, and Rossi had asked the nurse for an update eight times in the last thirty minutes.

He didn't know.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

She wouldn't be one of the hundred.

She couldn't.

Before JJ had told her, Penelope knew something was off.

No one had called her to update on if they had got him or not. Her phone had been completely silent.

That was off.

She called her Neptune.

It was one of the planets that couldn't be seen from Earth.

She’d always asked where the nickname had come from.

Penelope had called her that because Y/N was unreachable to her. She held so much, all this brightness, and you could barely even tell from the surface.

It was a nickname that seemed to fit her more than anything else.

And she couldn't help but think of it as soon as she got the call.

Neptune. Her best friend.

She didn't understand much about profilers, but she knew that Y/N was different from all of her other friends. She didn't know if it was because she was younger, and less experienced, or if she just carried something different to her.

But it was a smart decision to be her best friend, to depend on her.

They’d spent nights together, laughing, creating insanity with every sentence, every hour that ticked past on the clock. They’d spent time laughing, and crying, learning everything they could about each other.

‘Best friend’ was a loose term, one that didn't extend far enough for their relationship.

And Penelope had known something was wrong, as soon as no one had called her.

The first thought was that the unsub had gotten away, that he was going somewhere else and they still had to catch him.

But she knew that wasn't true, because they hadn't called her to help.

And then she thought that maybe he had been difficult, that maybe it was taking all of the team to help deal with him.

But, that didn't seem quite right.

And then she thought of all the other times something like this had happened, when she hadn't gotten a phone call, and there was nothing but silence for a couple of hours.

And all she could think of, was the day Emily almost died.

And then the bullet Spencer had taken to the leg.

And then the stabbing Hotch had been through.

For Penelope, after those thoughts, she didn't have any choice but to find out where they were.

So, she hacked their phones.

It wasn't completely rational, but Penelope had never proved to do things that were rational before. And she was far too protective to not do anything.

JJ’s phone showed up at the police department they were working from. So did Emily and Spencers. Hotch was somewhere across town. Rossi was still at the bar, and Derek was at the nearby Emergency Room.

By the time she had gotten to Y/N, she knew something was wrong.

One of them was hurt.

When she finally got the phone call, she had already pulled some of her hair out, stalked the news, tried to hack into the hospital's patient list- which she couldn't because not all of it was digital -and bitten off almost all of her nails.

JJ had told her, just like JJ always did, informing all of them the best she could.

And they didn't know enough.

Penelope had no idea how her best friend was, and even though she’d asked over and over, what had happened, JJ didn't have any answers for her.

It was a stupid situation.

Penelope hoped she wasn't hurt. That the bullet hadn't gotten anywhere near anything important, that she would live just as Penelope had years ago.

If she had lived, so could Y/N.

She was young and strong and she had been wearing a vest, and there was nothing wrong with her, if they didn't know anything it was good. It was good that no one had told them anything.

That meant she wasn't dead yet.

And that's all Penelope had to hold onto.

She called her Neptune. Because she was unreachable.

She would be fine.

Her eyes. They looked so scared. Derek was so scared.

She would be fine. Rossi knew.

JJ didn't know how this could have happened.

He wouldn't think of it. He was working.

Emily knew better than anyone else.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

She called her Neptune.

She was the youngest out of all of them.

She had to be okay.

my masterlist here.

#derek morgan x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss x reader #penelope garica x reader #aaron hotch x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 9

Fun fact: when I was like eight I got an ultrasound done on my chest because of some non-descript heart anomaly. Got to miss a day of school and everything.

Anyway, on the day of cult girl’s twenty week anatomy scan, Hannibal has second thoughts about putting the baby up for adoption.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: pregnancy and lactation, medical examination

It was a small victory, but a much-needed one.

You kept in close touch with Max and Archie over the next few, crucial weeks. Before you knew it, your first trimester ended. You tried your best to push all worries about your rapidly changing body aside, in favor of your studies. To a point, it worked. You cranked out a few research papers and kept up on your reading, but not as efficiently as you may have wanted. Your body was operating at 100% all the time and you felt like an overheated laptop with the fan running at top speed.

The morning of your twenty-week checkup arrived far quicker than you hoped. You were noticeably pregnant, having put on a good ten extra pounds to support your passenger.

Your phone alarm sounded, telling you to greet the day. You'd been in and out of an uncomfortable state of half-consciousness all night.

"Good morning, my goddess." Hannibal cooed in his admittedly very sexy morning voice. He turned on his side and faced you.

Seeing him with bedhead was definitely the best part of waking up. But the delight quickly faded when you tried to turn on your side and realized you couldn't. You plopped back onto your back, seriously considering if any amount of money was worth this.

"Don't patronize me." You pouted, folding your arms.

"Patronize you?" He chuckled, pulling you into him. "Now why on earth would I do that?"

He cupped your head in his hand and stroked your cheek. "The most divine woman in the world is carrying my baby."

Before you could say anything, he brought his lips to yours. His other hand ran down your body, tracing the outline of your firm, round belly.

"And what an honor-" He whispered, weaving his fingers through your hair. "To have Venus herself descend from Olympia to carry my child."

You didn't want to unpack what he was saying. All you knew was you liked it. Your aches seemed to melt away under his touch and your worries dissipated with every word.

"My breasts are so swollen and heavy." You complained. "And they ache so much."

"Is that so?" Hannibal smiled hungrily and propped himself up on his elbows above you. "Well, what is to be done about that, Mrs. Lecter?"

You unbuttoned your pajama shirt, revealing your significantly larger breasts. You blushed and instinctively covered yourself.

Hannibal chuckled and effortlessly pulled your hands off your chest. He lowered his face to where your neck meets your shoulder and took a deep breath in. A pair of warm, gentle hands cupped your breasts.

"You're starting to produce." He observed, a little smile creeping on his face.

Before you could really register what he meant by that, his thumb began to stimulate your swollen nipple. A small drop of milk leaked out, dampening his finger. All you could do was turn red and whimper in embarrassment.

He brought his finger to his lips and tasted it.

"It's a bit thin, but my goodness, it's sweet." He said, as nonchalantly as if he were sampling ice cream.

"Only the best for our baby." You said.

That caught him off guard in the best way. Whether you were playing along or feeling genuinely maternal, he didn't care. He wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to gratify his crippling desire to feel like a father.

"Fuck, [F/N]." He cursed, looking at your protruding belly with awe. Not awe, but worship.

He cleared his throat, chasing away any strong emotions he may have let reveal themselves. "Never mind. Let's get ready to go to the doctor."

You swung your legs over the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing, my darling." Hannibal said, lying professionally. "Everything is wonderful."

You push yourself to your feet and follow him into the bathroom. "Hannibal, please."

He turned around and leaned against the sink. "It's nothing that concerns you, love. Don't worry about it."

You folded your arms. "You don’t need to be a doctoral candidate to recognize deflection."

"So you don't." Hannibal said. "Darling, please understand that I have your best interests at heart. Even if it is at the expense of my desires."

"I see what this is." You nodded. "You want to keep the baby, don't you?"

"I didn't know how much I wanted a child until now." He admitted.

"But you know the emotional and physical toll it'll take on me." You finished.

"I don't know, actually." He corrected, face contorting with frustration. "Thus the basis of my hesitation. There are so many facets of life that can be molded to one's liking, but parenting-"

"I get it." You sighed. "So many things could go wrong, or right, and either way it would throw me off track."

"If I could relieve you of all of the burden of parenting this child, allowing you to step away and finish your schooling unfettered with domestic duties, I would." He said. "But if we're being honest, it's not like you would let me."

"Ruth Bader Ginsburg studied law at Harvard while taking care of a baby." You offered. "And her sick husband."

"I have no doubts in my mind that it is possible, nor that you're capable, darling." He assured you. "But I would never forgive myself if I let you burn yourself out before you even get a chance to take off."

"Okay, look." You took a deep breath. "Let's see what the obstetrician says, assess the risks, weigh the pros and cons and talk to Max and Archie. We will figure this out."

You were counting on the assumption that going for your twenty-week checkup would scare you out of any desires to keep the baby. They often did. The more time you spent with an ultrasound wand in your vagina, the more you became convinced that you'd become implanted with an alien parasite determined to destroy you from the inside.

"Good morning, Dr. And Mrs. Lecter." The obstetrician greeted you as she always did. You hadn't bothered to correct her to save yourself an awkward conversation. "Here for our twenty-week ultrasound, are we?"

"No, I'm here for the taco truck in the parking lot." You said, half-jokingly. The other half was thinking about tacos. "I just thought I'd lay down on this surgical table for fun."

"Good to see you're still hanging on to your sense of humor, [F/N]." She smirked. "Should we take a look under the hood?"

You fought the overwhelming urge to smack your belly like a car salesmen and say "this bad boy can fit so many fetuses in it". But given that there was only one fetus, that would be inaccurate.

The doctor emptied a tube of extra-freezing gel onto your stomach and readied the ultrasound wand. "Have you been feeling any kicks, Mrs. Lecter?"

You shrugged. "Maybe? I wouldn't know what that would feel like so I don't know."

She smiled warmly. "Trust me, you'll know. But don't worry about it. First pregnancies tend to take their time. When you have your next children, it will happen much faster."

"I think you mean," Hannibal said, voice hardening. "If she decides to have more children. Let's not be presumptuous."

The doctor noticed her mistake. "My apologies, Mrs. Lecter. I didn't mean to assume."

You kept your eyes on Hannibal, too afraid to look at the screen as the doctor searched around for a clear image.

“Oh my goodness, here it is!” She exclaimed with an ear-to-ear grin.

It took you a minute to make out exactly what she was pointing to. It looked more like a fucked-up Rorschach test than anything resembling a person. You didn't want to say it out loud, but she sensed your confusion.

"This big round part is the head." She said, pointing to the opposite end of the screen. "There's its spine, and there are its little hands and feet."

It hit you all at once. There was a person growing inside of you. And it had limbs, bones and a brain. You finally had the answer to the question "how did something come from nothing". It was right there in front of you.

"Wow." You said, dumbfounded. "My body made that?"

"Amazing, isn't it?" The doctor smiled, clearly still as enamored with her job as she was on day one.

"And it made that without my brain even thinking about it." You continued, trying not to go into a ramble. "That's actually pretty insane."

"I told you that you're a goddess." Hannibal whispered into your ear. "My divine feminine."

"Would you like to know the sex?" She asked.

“Sure.” You said, without really thinking about it. You looked back at Hannibal, who seemed pretty indifferent too.

“Congratulations, you’re having a girl.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x reader #pregnancy #domestic fluff #lactation #body worship #cult girl #cult girl 2 #cult girl doctorate #more cult girl

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fatefulfaerie · 3 years

Text

Domesticity

Zelink Week 2021 prompt #5/7 @zelinkweek2021

Word Count: 1,951

Incarnation: Breath of the Wild 2 (post)

Additional Prompts Followed: Hearts, Family

No Trigger Warnings

“Is one of us dying?”

The feast was definitely unsettling to Wendie, and although she was mostly joking, she couldn’t help but think that such a nice dinner at such a random time of the year was odd. Of course her dad was a great cook, but this was a step above, despite there being no family birthdays for at least three months and no holidays for five.

“No,” her mother said as she placed on the table a large bowl of goat-buttered mashed potatoes, one of Wendie’s favorite foods. She had said it with a slight motherly laugh and a warm smile. “No one is dying. We’re just having a family dinner.”

The mother, who went by the name Zelda, had aged gracefully over the past twenty years, blonde hair highlighted with streaks of white that her husband would often call angelic and ethereal when she would doubt her beauty. At the moment, her age-hued hair was swept into a single braid behind her head, messy yet secure.

“Our family dinners aren’t usually this elaborate,” Wendie observed. “You made mashed potatoes and seafood rice balls—which is Elyjah’s favorite food—grilled carrots, meat pie, mushroom skewers and you have an apple turnover on the counter for dessert!”

“Nothing gets past you,” her father said, putting a bowl of baked and salted radishes on the table. His blue eyes looked over to Zelda. “I think we raised them too smart.”

“Nonsense,” Zelda said, walking forward and using the rag that was just draped over her shoulder to wipe a smattering of flour off of Link’s forehead. “Where’s Elyjah?”

Wendie made a sound that sounded a lot like a lazy “I don’t know” while shrugging her shoulders where she sat at the table.

“He can just eat when he gets home,” Wendie reasoned. “There’s more than enough food.”

Wendie didn’t see her parents exchange glances, the seventeen-year old not caring in the slightest that her twin brother wasn’t here to ruin her first dibs on dinner.

“I’ll try and find him,” Zelda said with a sigh, Wendie looking back up at her parents. Link nodded as Zelda departed. Wendie once again questioned what was going on.

“Ly!” The father and daughter heard outside, Zelda from just the doorstep of their modest Hateno home calling out to the entirety of Hyrule. Link sat down across from his daughter, elbows on the table and arms folded into each other. The deep thought he was in concerned Wendie greatly. He wouldn’t even meet her glance. Was she in trouble?

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

Elyjah.

Of all the people to be in trouble, surely it was him. He had never gotten into anything truly bad but he was the biggest prankster in Hateno. The only shop he wasn’t banned from was the dye shop. The green-eyed troublemaker was here nonetheless and Wendie prepared herself for another fun show. Zelda moved to sit down next to Link at the table but Elyjah stopped as soon as he saw the table, mouth popped open and body frozen.

“Is someone dying?”

He had looked over to his sister when he asked the question.

“Yeah,” she said. “You.”

“What?” Elyjah asked, almost believing it.

“Wendie, that’s enough now,” Zelda said, before looking over to her son. “No one is dying. We would just like to talk to you both.”

Elyjah sat next to Wendie with the same bewildered look as her, trying to figure out what it was before their parents spit it out. It was like Hylia’s Day presents except they didn’t have a good feeling about this, especially when Link took Zelda’s hand and looked at their children, ready to address them.

And yet it was Zelda who started.

“Do you two remember the fairytale we used to tell you?” Zelda inquired, her voice shaky. “The bedtime story? Of the princess and the knight?”

Neither Elyjah nor Wendie had any clue of the relevance, but they both remembered the tale well.

“The one with the weird ending?” Wendie asked nonetheless. “Where he rescued her and then that was it?”

“Yeah,” Elyjah said. “Didn’t they just stare at each other in silence? After all they had been through, it seemed like there should have been more.”

Link dove his hand into his forehead.

“Zelda, you could have given them a better ending,” Link suggested.

Zelda scoffed and put her hands on her hips.

“It was a lesson in imagination,” she said. “And clearly none of you have any.”

“But that’s besides the point…” Link said, prompting Zelda in a different direction.

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding at Link and returning her gaze to their children, confused as ever. And yet she smiled at them.

“You both have grown up so fast,” Zelda said. “We both love you very much and cannot believe that you have blossomed right before our eyes into adults.”

Zelda’s smile became sad and she bowed her head.

“You see it’s a lot easier to lie to children.”

Wendie’s brow furrowed.

“Lie…” she repeated from her mother.

When Zelda’s head tilted back up, green was glazed with waves of coming tears, making the emeralds that Link fell in love with a hundred years ago shine even brighter.

“That fairytale…” Zelda said. “The princess who used her sealing power to keep away Calamity Ganon and the knight who slept in a ruined Hyrule for a hundred years in order to recover from his injuries and save her…”

Zelda stopped herself. Twenty years of keeping it in and it seems it wanted to stay in. She wrestled with her conflicted heart, kept it at bay long enough for her to blurt it out.

“It’s true,” Zelda said, no weakness in her voice, no lie, no apprehension. “The knight and the princess really did fight the calamity, really did survive a century to see it through and then some. Once they tracked down the cause of the anomaly, destroying the true form of Ganon, they settled down in Hateno. They got married and eventually gave life to twins, a boy and a girl.” Zelda’s eyes were proud as she looked upon her children, although they glistened with tears. Her heart hurt to see their faces in shock, but the outspoken truth felt better than she could have imagined. She felt Link’s grip tighten around her fingers.

“You both have royal blood in you,” Zelda said. “Even though I stepped away from the throne in the search of a simpler, more fulfilling life, you both still have claim to the titles of Prince Elyjah and Princess Wendie. We wanted you to know in case that path would prove fulfilling for you and…well, now that you’re adults you have the right to know the truth.”

Wendie stood up and walked out of the house, her parents not daring to stop her. Elyjah, however, just sat in shock, piecing it all together in his mind. Link and Zelda both could see his green eyes working, much like his mother’s did when she went over schematics or theorized about plant life.

“The story,” he finally started, “everything you went through…the pressure…you wanted to protect us from that…you wanted to give us the childhood you never had…that neither of you had.”

Link nodded.

“That’s right.”

Elyjah pursed his lips and nodded. Sometimes he was just like his dad. He shrugged.

“Okay,” he said, replacing his empty plate with the one filled with the seafood rice balls meant for the whole family. “Cool,” he continued, or at least it sounded like the word “cool”, his mouth mostly filled with rice.

Link raised his eyebrows and looked over at Zelda.

“Apparently we’re…cool.” Link said the last word as if it were completely foreign.

“Not all of us,” Zelda reminded her husband. She started to stand up. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Yet Link placed a hand on her arm.

“I’ll go,” Link said. “You stay and enjoy the food.”

Link found his daughter on the banks of Firly Pond, knees hugged close to her chest and water lapping at her bare toes.

At first he waited with his hand on the bark of the near apple tree, pursing his lips. Sometimes he was thrust back in time twenty years, when he felt he had no idea how to be a dad. This was one of those moments.

Link saw in his mind’s eye Wendie’s big blue eyes staring up at him, stubby arms reaching for him. He smiled. She grew up so fast.

“I know you’re there,” he heard Wendie say. She didn’t turn her head away from the pond. “Did you come to give me a speech?”

Link walked towards her.

“Maybe.”

He sat down next to her and Wendie only gave him the smallest of glances.

“I feel like I don’t know my parents at all,” she finally said.

Link nodded.

“I understand.” He said. “I don’t agree, but I understand.”

Wendie looked over to his profile, trying to ascertain how he could be serious. The calamity was real and her parents fought it. Sheikah technology really could heal fatal wounds and the goddesses power really was wielded by a mortal, not to mention her own mother, who never seemed like a princess in the slightest. Her father was a knight in a kingdom that really did exist and she?

Well she was a princess. This whole time, she was a princess. The girl who was called the “ugly duckling” of the family as a child was a princess in peasant’s clothing. She almost wanted to go brag to the town, but that seemed petty for just a small ounce of appreciation from the people her age who used to tease her when they would play as children.

Her parents were legends and in comparison, what was she?

Definitely not a princess.

“You know us as what we became after everything we went through,” Link finally said, having taken the time to get his words together. “The people we were before…”

He hesitated.

“We were nothing more than what the kingdom wanted us to be…statues, legends, weapons…we were never fully ourselves, and we could never afford to be ourselves with an entire kingdom looking at us to save them from a calamity. The slivers that were left of us found a friendship in each other, one that grew into love in time. After everything was settled, we began to truly find ourselves, basking in the freedom to do so. It’s something that usually occurs in a fifteen year old but your mother and I were a hundred and twenty years old when we solved the identity crisis. She did not want to be royalty and I did not want to be a knight. When we finally did not need to be those things, we took our first breaths as Link and Zelda. We wanted our children to take those breaths from the very second they were born, and that is why we let you grow up before we told you the truth. We wanted royalty to be an option for you two, not a necessity. We wanted you to become yourselves, not tiny versions of us. I only hope we have…at least I think we have.”

Wendie smiled.

“You have,” she said. “If you want your daughter to have absolutely no idea what she wants to do with her life.”

Link brought his daughter closer by hugging her far shoulder, bringing her close enough to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he said. It sounded strange but Link didn’t mean it as a bad thing. “Because finding out your passion for yourself is the most exciting thing in this entire wild land.”

#zelink #zelink week 2021 #zelinkweek2021 #botw #botw 2 #but like twenty years after #hateno

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vintage-writes · 3 years

Text

Come here, Captain Levi Ackermann x Reader

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Getting kidnapped by the Scout Regiment was not on today’s agenda. Levi Ackermann being the one to watch you was an unexpected turn of events. However, don’t be fooled, You’re still in charge.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Oral (M. receiving) Fem!Dom!Reader, Sub!Levi, Corruption Kink (if you squint).

18+ ONLY

A/N: This was originally just supposed to be fun and then I decided to add some spice.

Word Count: 2 070

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The streets of Trost were quickly filling up with people. The crowds were letting loose a series of cheers and shouts, all jeering in excitement for the King’s generosity. His decision to open up the royal food supplies to Trost was like a saving grace to the starving.

Or rather, it’s excellent bribery. The king has been desperately trying to garner support from the lower class. This is most definitely due to the rising conflict within the government. Erwin Smith, Commander of the Scout Regiment, has been placed behind bars and will most definitely be executed. Whether or not that would be today or tomorrow, I’m sure they wouldn’t let me know.

Two days ago You approached the higher ups about the arrest of the Scout Regiment. They were uninterested in what You had to say, fully believing that the anomaly known as Eren Jaeger would be the end of humanity. Their fear is driving them forward and the Scouts were apparently plotting to harbour this secret titan power for themselves. You pointed out that that was ridiculous and was immediately slapped for my ‘insubordination’.

Whatever the case. You’re now patrolling around the Trost district. The watchful eyes of a few of your subordinates are keeping you in check as many apparently believe that you’re a step away from chasing after the scouts and pledging my loyalty. All information regarding the situation has been kept away from you, you feel as though you’re being locked up in a cell despite your freedom to walk down a street.

This is ridiculous. A General shouldn’t be monitored by a bunch of recruits. They’ve even confiscated your gun, leaving you vulnerable with nothing but a knife.

You adjust your jacket, the military police insignia sewn proudly onto the back. The Unicorn, the perfect creature for the biggest joke in the military.

Glancing behind your back, you notice that one of your ‘babysitters’ is currently occupying themselves with a lost child. A young boy was tugging on his pants while he awkwardly tried to pull him off.

Perfect.

You duck behind the nearest corner and dart into the alleyway. Your boots thudding gently on the pavement. The thrill of finally dodging the watchdogs was like a fresh breath of air. And then.

“Don’t move”

Of course you would run into the only dumbass in the world willing to rob an MP. A knife’s sharp edge presses at your throat. The hand that grasps it connects to a young boy with blond hair and sharp eyes. Although, despite the fiery look in his eyes your instincts tell you that he wouldn’t follow through with his threat. He quickly grabs a ball of fabric from his pocket and stuffs it into your mouth. You let out an indignant shout but it’s muffled by the cloth, however before You can grab the brat You hear another voice, this time from behind you.

“Lift up your arms.”

Behind you, a heavy metallic object nudges you slightly forward. A Rifle, no doubt.

You slowly raise your arms as you feel the presence shift forward and grab them. You expect him to tie them together but instead he hesitates. It feels as though he is unsure of himself. Instead he brings your arms behind your back and simply holds them.

Well this is certainly awkward.

“You’re coming with us.”, says the blonde in front of me.

You raise your eyebrows at this. Robbing an MP is certainly a bold move but kidnapping is a whole other ball game. Whoever these guys are, they’ve certainly got guts.

About an hour later You’re sitting in a remote part of Town in a stuffy warehouse. Luckily, you’re gagless as it appears no one here has anything to tie my hands together with. After the long faced asshole with a stupid hair cut tossed me into the corner you pulled out the gag and threw it at him. It smacked his head with a wet thud before rolling away. He let out a high pitched wail before vigorously rubbing at the spot, tossing insults at you like they were going out of fashion.

“Oi, Brat!” shouts a rather familiar voice. “Quiet down.”

In walks Captain Levi of the Survey Corps. The pieces begin to click together as you realize what’s going on. Despite the missing Wings of Freedom sigil on everyone’s back, you can tell that you’re looking at the Scout Regiment or more specifically, the Levi Squad.

Humanity’s strongest soldier is currently staring down at you, completely uninterested. You, on the other hand, are very interested to see him. Despite being a relatively strong soldier and Erwin’s right hand, he’s generally rarely seen around the Capital. His appearance has been described as plain but I disagree. His features are sharp and he’s incredibly lean and muscular. His dark eyes never miss a thing, an air of constant alertness surrounds him. He’s certainly the most attractive man you’ve seen by far.

You shift backwards a bit, your back now resting on the table. Two Glasses sit atop the wooden surface, completely empty. Levi notices the slight movement and turns to the two boys.

“Why isn’t she tied up?” he says, face remaining stoic.

“Because I’m not into rope”, You respond dryly.

He sends you a glare before ordering them away to find something suitable to keep you still. You roll your eyes at this before fixing them on Levi. He leans on the locked door, the only other exit besides a window barely small enough to crawl out of three meters above you. His eyes feigning disinterest but any soldier with a brain can tell that he’s watching very closely.

“So-”, You begin to say.

“Shut up.”

Excuse me?

“I thought I was here to answer questions?” you say instead. Why else would they go through all the trouble of kidnapping you?

His eyes study me and you can see he’s contemplating something.

“I figured Daddy’s little girl might have other uses.”

Ohhhh, You get it now, somehow Levi has figured out that one of the King’s dear advisors is your father. Little does he know, that man will likely rather leave me for dead. You couldn’t be a worse leverage. Although the phrase “Daddy’s little girl” coming from those lips have you smirking up at him. How very kinky, Captain.

“Well you know-”

“Quiet”

Oi. Let me speak.

“Captain”, You say with warning.

“General”, he retorts. His voice is surprisingly rough and low.

Who do you think is in charge here Captain? Despite what it may look like, You don’t think he has as much power in this situation as he thinks he does.

You shift forward preparing to stand up. You’re done being stuck in this stuffy place, you need to escape before everyone else comes back. Levi immediately straightens up in front of you. Despite his size, the amount of danger radiating off of him is immense and you don’t have a weapon on hand. The slow sinking feeling that maybe you’ve underestimated him begins to settle in.

“Sit back down. You’re not leaving.”

Reluctantly, you shift back into place. Maybe escaping right now isn’t the best option.

He begins again, this time his voice drops considerably deeper, "If you move one more time, I swear I’ll choke you until you pass out”

His eyes have turned to slits. Suddenly you feel as though you’ve made some kind of mistake. However, despite his pretty face staring angrily into your soul, you feel incredibly excited.

Leaning your head back, your eyes spot the two glasses sitting on the table. You tip your head to make eye contact with him. You hold his gaze. Warning signs flashing in his eyes as you turn your body to face the table. Eyes still locked on his own. You raise your right hand and sweep it across the table, knocking them onto the floor. The glass shatters instantly upon hitting the ground.

The look of surprise on his face sends your heart racing. Eyes widening as his face flushes red. You turn back to face him

“Alright”, You say.

You tilt your head back, looking down your nose at him. You brush your hair away from your neck and continue to stare intently at him.

“Come here, Captain”

He backs away a step. Excellent, you’ve caught him off guard.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” You taunt, “Are you not going to keep your word?”

He straightens up quickly and presses his lips together.

Good. Let him put his mask back on so You can rip it off again. You quickly straighten up and hop onto your feet. Slowly, step by step, you make your way forward, until you stop right in front of him. His eyes burn into yours.

You lift up one hand and bring it to his chin. He exhales sharply. You bring your lips to his ear. Gently breathing in his sweet musky scent.

“Are you not the one in charge here, Captain? Or have you finally remembered that I outrank you?” You breathe against him before moving your head back. His face has completely reddened.

With the hand still on his chin you gently tilt it upwards and apply pressure, effectively pushing him back into the wall.

“As a General, I don’t particularly like taking orders”, You say moving both hands to his shoulders before beginning an achingly slow descent. “I’d rather be the one giving them. Now stand still and be a good boy.”

Both hands finally reach the top of his pants and with a single finger begin to slowly trace the inside, moving across the inside until you reach his pants button. He jerks his hips towards you. He releases a sharp breath as you begin to unbutton each one before opening them. You run your hands back around to his waist and tug them downwards. They softly thump against the floor. You look into his eyes as you drop to your knees, he still hasn’t said or done anything to stop you. Excitement flares within you. The idea of having humanities strongest wrapped around your finger has heat flooding downwards.

You pull away the last layer of clothing separating you from his dick. His hand flies to the back of your head. Fingers tangling into your hair. You stare up at him. He doesn’t make a move to push you forward or away. The ball remains in your court as he simply stares down at you, licking his lips, breaths short and heavy.

“Levi”, You say gently, breath brushing against his member as he begins to squirm. You smirk, “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

You place a kiss to the inside of his thigh. Another slightly higher, and higher again. His hips buck forward.

“Stop moving”

He stills beneath your hands as you decide to finally grab onto his hardened member, dripping with precum. Slowly but surely, you pump him up and down as he sighs out. you lean forward and place another kiss at the base of his cock. You run your tongue from the base, to the underside and all the way to the top where you twirl your tongue around the head. The grunt that accompanies this action urges you on as you begin to suck deeply.

He Whines out, “Y/N”

You pause and he squirms some more. Hands gripping your hair harder.

“Yes?”

“Please”, he blurts out. “More”

“Do you want to cum?”

He nods vigorously. Good, let Y/N break him. You do your best to relax your throat and breathe deeply through your nose. With a slow push You push forward all the way to the hilt. He Gasps. He’s panting now.

“Please”, he breathes out. Mumbling over and over again. You pull back slightly and let your tongue swirl around the head again. You look up and make eye contact. Mouth hanging open, eyes wound shut. His lips let out moans and whines.

“Oh God!” He lets out before releasing in your mouth. You swallow everything before standing up again. You run your tongue over your lips before looking at him.

Pants pooled around his ankles, eyes glossy, mouth slightly open as his breathing begins to slow. His face is of pure ecstasy.

“So are you willing to listen to me now?” You smile at him gently. “Or do you want to take a minute?”

#aot #levi attack on titan #levi #ackermann #attack on titan #aot fic #levi smut #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #sub!levi #dom!reader #levi ackerman

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.36}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"And that is?" Robin raised her eyebrows at him in question and curiosity alike, immediately catching onto the spark of hope that came with the prospect of an advantage indeed.

"Me." He replied as simply as that, with an entirely, if not too straight face, and Robin couldn't help her snort in return

"How very humble of you…" She said smoothly, but with a smirk on her lips nonetheless. He was right though, they did stand two against one after all, and they always would. The thought, as always, served to calm Robin more than any piece of saving history or weapon could.

"I am entirely serious about it." Snape added however when Robin's humoured expression didn't cease even after a few seconds, and thus her smile vanished to make way for her utmost attention to his words again. "Since there have always been mutual affections between the Morgan and the Bennett heir up to this point, as well as going by the few accounts of various incarnations of the prophecy, it is safe to say that there has never before been such a disturbance. Both heirs have as of yet always opposed each other alone, because neither was free in their choice to seek out a different partner."

"And you think that whatever anomaly it was that made me not have any curse-inflicted positive or negative emotions for Morgan is the reason why the prophecy will end differently this time?"

"I believe you are the best chance to end the prophecy once and for all that the Bennett line has had in over five hundred years." He replied in open sincerity, and Robin's heart skipped a beat before it was captured by both hope and adoration. "And I can state the facts as they are: I was never meant to be part of this prophecy, nor am I part of it now. I am the anomaly in this scenario, and as we both know, anomalies tend to lead to a different outcome than the predicted one, even in any controlled environment."

"Did you just use potions logic to explain why we will win against Morgan?" Robin couldn't help the affectionate smile that took over her features once more; phrased like he had just now, it really did sound like she had a chance. She couldn't put into words how much she loved him for always cheering her up. For giving her hope, and every strength she could possibly need.

"It appears so." He mused in return, quirking an eyebrow up along with his words as he studied Robin in the flickering light of the flames. "Yet the fortunate preconditions will not change one of the core problems of the entire prophecy: in order for you to live, we will have to kill Morgan instead."

Robin's heart fell in an instant, as did her smile, and even her stomach picked up the all too familiar churning once again. For a few seconds she avoided Snape's eyes by staring into the flames, before at last her gaze returned to him in all the unfathomable sadness it brought along. "I can't kill him, Sev. I had every possibility and reason to today, and yet I… I can't."

"I know. And we will see to it that you won't have to." He replied quietly, then seemed to be lost in his own thoughts for a moment until he spoke on. "Though I admit I do not entirely understand how the prophecy treats the subject. From what I understand, Morgan will have to die at your hand and only yours, even though or especially because I am not part of the prophecy. Otherwise I would gladly have volunteered to end him myself in this very instant."

A huff, both bitterly humoured and indignant, escaped Robin's lips, and she found herself rolling her eyes at this stupid prophecy. Of course it had to be her… everything else just would've been too easy, wouldn't it? But then again… "I wouldn't have wanted you to do it either way." She said. "I will gladly spare your soul that torture at any cost."

"Morgan's death is inevitable if we want to keep you alive, you know that."

"Nothing is truly inevitable. It can't be." Robin shrugged with another sigh, then finally gathered her wits to speak up about another thought that had fostered in her mind ever since this afternoon. "You know, I looked at him while he was at my mercy today, and I realized something that only now makes sense to me. At last."

"Enlighten me."

"Do you remember what my boggart turned into, in my third year?"

"How could I forget… It was a deeply concerning and unsettling occurrence." Snape scoffed, but then sighed and motioned for her to continue.

"I think it was the prophecy that made the boggart change into that dark version of myself which we both saw. And it's also what turned my nightmares in my fourth year into such a horror show. Remember Morgan's words, at the ball: he sees in me the hollow darkness of inevitable death." Robin took a deep breath, then finally got to the point. "The boggart and my nightmares showed me precisely what will become of me if I kill Morgan like I am obviously meant to. It was my destiny in the prophecy that the boggart and the curse found in my being, not my deepest fear. Even though it might as well be one and the same thing at this point."

"That-..." Was his only reply for a few long seconds, until surprise was followed up by understanding in his expression. "I believe you might just be right about that."

"I don't want to become that thing we saw back then, Sev." Her voice took on an almost pleading tone, low and far too breathy for Robin's liking, but it was the price for keeping it from breaking entirely. "But I would, if I kill Morgan. Perhaps it's part of the curse… or perhaps it's just my own stupid weakness. But we both have seen what will become of me, and I don't want to be that person. I can't be. I can't kill him."

"Then we will find another way to end the prophecy. Without anyone dying."

"What other way could there possibly be? You said Morgan's death at my hands is inevitable, it's always gonna be either him or I. No third option. I kill him, or I die."

"Just as you said before, nothing is truly inevitable." He returned, as calmly serious as ever. "While I would not hesitate to end Morgan in a blink, I will also not hesitate to spare you from doing so yourself. We will find a different way, because we always do. Because we have to."

"Alright." And again, as always, Robin couldn't help believing him in the end. A half smile tugged on her lips as she looked up at him once again, in the knowledge that they would be alright somehow. "We will find a way, before it's too late."

"That we will." He sighed under his breath, then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and yet held onto her a little more tightly in return. They weren't optimists, no… but they had as of yet gotten out of even more impossible situations than this, every single time.

Robin's smile brightened ineffably as she allowed herself to be tugged closer against his chest, his head coming to rest on top of her own, and for a moment they simply enjoyed the silence of the night. It was terribly late, and there was no doubt that they both were beyond exhausted. Perhaps detention and almost dying weren't quite comparable in what they did to one's body and mind, but it was safe to say that this day ought to come to an end for both of them nevertheless. It had been too much… Hogsmeade, the room of hidden things, Morgan's office, dinner, their office, Morgan's rooms, the astronomy tower, and finally the entire struggle with the prophecy right here and now. Good gods, Robin's head felt like bursting with all the things she had just learned. They had uncovered so many horrible truths today… but they finally had gotten a step further in understanding the big picture. A step further to bringing it all to an end.

"Is there any more we can do now?" She asked after a while. "I feel like we forgot something crucial, but I can't grasp what that might be."

"We should rest, for now. Everything else can wait until tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be." He replied with a subtle sigh, and finally pulled away just enough to look at Robin once more. "Perhaps we should see the bright side of things, too, for once."

"And that would be?"

"I can keep you here with me all night without any remorse."

A loud snort escaped Robin as they both got up from the ground to get ready for bed at last, and she couldn't help the smirk that just then tugged at her lips. "As if you've ever felt any ounce of guilt over that before…"

"Officially, I have."

"Officially, I shouldn't even be here in the first place for you to feel guilty over."

"Good thing we make our own rules then."

"Indeed."

… … …

Falling asleep that night, surprisingly, turned out to be less troublesome than Robin had anticipated. Once they both were curled up under the soft covers, wrapped tightly into each other's arms in the fierce comfort of utmost protectiveness, they were both out like a light within seconds. While it still hadn't been often that they'd gotten to spend the night like this, it currently was the reassurance of each other's presence that made it possible to find sleep in the first place, and while Robin would've found more excitement in it under different circumstances, it was the calmness that gifted her a dreamless sleep for what was left of the night to rest.

The morning, however, was everything but calm in return. It was Sunday, sure, but when they woke up five minutes after breakfast had started, the world came crashing down on them rather abruptly. In all due haste, it took them only a few minutes to get ready and hide the box of parchments in one of the shelves before they quickly made their way towards the great hall. Together, for once, since Snape had absolutely refused to let Robin wander through the empty hallways alone, and Robin had given up her protests before she had even gotten properly started. When Snape had set his mind to something, there was little to nothing she could do about it. And honestly, she found herself rather glad about that.

As always, they did go separate ways once they reached the doors to the great hall though, and Robin didn't hesitate to make her way inside and towards the Slytherin table already, while trying to catch her breath after almost having to run to keep up with Snape. At some point, when there wasn't such a pressing reason to hurry, she would have to remind him that his legs were about double as long as hers, which made it nigh impossible to keep up sometimes. Or at least it felt like that; she would have to remember to bring it up at some point. Unfortunately, it was only when Robin spotted Gideon and Michael that she remembered something else, namely the thing she had forgotten about last night. Their challenge, which really hadn't been one in the first place. Oh bloody hell… she had forgotten to take a proper look into her memories to check the stupid order of the stupid items on Morgan's stupid desk. But seriously, there had been so much more urgent matters at hand! Bloody fucking hell though, for she still couldn't tell them that. She still had to put on a smile and joke as if there wasn't some ridiculous life changing prophecy at work. Great.

"Got up on the wrong foot, eh?" Gideon greeted her with a smirk right when Robin reached their little group in the middle of the long table. "You look like someone's turned your shower cold while you were still under it."

"Something like that, yeah." She sighed in return, then dropped down into the seat between Jorien and Simon that had been saved for her. "Anyway, good morning to you, too."

Granted, her friends did try to cheer her up during breakfast, and Robin found herself sighing inwardly more than once while she put on a fake smile and, sometimes, could even muster up a real one. Her occasional glances towards the head table were kindly ignored like always, her 'hmm's for an answer as well, and at last she almost believed that the boys had forgotten about the challenge for good when after twenty minutes still nobody had asked about it. But of course, fate or whatever entity was currently messing with her wasn't as kind as to let her off the hook that easily.

"So, when are we finally going to talk about yesterday's evening activities?" Cas asked with a beaming and giddy smile that made Robin want to strangle her in an instant. Honestly, she loved Cas, but the girl had the most awful timing known to human history.

"Oh yes, right!" Gideon jumped right onto the train of thought, and even dropped his toast while his gaze flew over to Robin. "Where's that proof you promised, huh?"

Under different circumstances, Robin would've straight up snarled at the boy's smug expression and quieted his every inquiry with a single glare. But she had more or less promised them proof, and she had most definitely promised herself to keep her friends out of this mess. So she had to live with the consequences now, even if they majorly annoyed her. Sighing inwardly, she tried to recall the details about Morgan's desk, what it had looked like, what items he kept on there… Perhaps a rough description would have to do. Or, perhaps indeed, it would only take one single detail, a detail that almost nobody could know of. Well, unless they had carefully searched through his desk like she had, of course. Yes, that certainly would do to serve as proof for the boys! Why on earth hadn't she thought of that before?! With a mostly feigned mischievous smile, Robin leaned onto her lower arms and over the table, closer to Gideon and Michael. Unsurprisingly, every single one of her friends followed suit and leaned in closer to her as well. The fact that they were already so used to her antics rendered her smile a little more real, and a little less bitter.

"Alright, but don't judge me before you've checked the facts yourself." She started, once she was sure that all five of her friends were listening. Even Jorien and Simon, who had shown absolutely no interest in the entire endeavour last night, were intently paying attention now. "In the locked drawer in his desk, Morgan keeps a book on beautifying spells 'for the modern gentleman'."

It took a second, but then Michael and Gideon burst into laughter, while Simon and the girls simply gaped at Robin as if she'd told them that a spaceship had crashed in Hogsmeade. Admittedly, both reactions amused Robin quite a bit in return, which served as a most welcome distraction from the morning's hasty gloom. The book had indeed been an amusing discovery, now that she thought of it. One that she had previously simply ignored in order to focus on the greater good, the bigger plan, the more important matters. Well, perhaps it did her some good now to remember that there were other things in life than the big problems. That Morgan was also just a human being, with flaws and secrets and weird mannerisms. It certainly made breathing a little easier for now.

"That is absolutely hilarious." Gideon snorted a moment later, after he had finally managed to catch his breath. "I honestly hope it's true."

"Of course it's true!" Cas snapped back at him, even though the fact still seemed to irritate her at the same time. "Robin doesn't lie…"

"Thank you." Robin gave the girl a half smile and a nod, then turned back towards the boys across from her. "I consider this inane challenge completed now, but you are of course free to verify my claim."

"I believe you." Michael shrugged with another humoured huff. "Would explain why the guy's always so…"

"Pretty?" Gideon suggested with raised eyebrows, and Michael nodded in agreement. "Pretty is a good way to describe it."

"Petty would be even more like it." Robin sighed under her breath, but her own thought made her snort a second later nonetheless. Arrogance wouldn't help her, but if she was stuck in a limbo between confidence and fear already, she might as well enjoy the highs for now before the lows came back to haunt her.

"Speaking of petty, you won't believe what that pillock Justin did last night!" Gideon said, and Michael just groaned in return before shoving his friend and rolling his eyes.

"Who the frick is Justin?" Jorien asked with an indignant frown in return, which almost made Robin snort again, for the girl, as so often, displayed a copycat version of Robin's own thoughts.

"Some guy in their house." Cas answered with a roll of her eyes, but more at the subject than because of her friend's question. "He should be in Robin's year, actually, but knowing her, she probably has no idea who he is either."

"Caught me. I still don't care about the people in my year." Robin shrugged with one shoulder and kept her eyes on her toast, but she didn't cease to listen curiously to the elaborations around her at the same time.

"Anyway, Justin was helping us with our charms essays last night. Or rather, he was supposed to help us, but ended up being a stupid pillock about it." Gideon went on to explain.

"Yeah, he is really good at charms." Michael continued in a sigh where Gideon had stopped. "But he didn't even try to help us! Properly, I mean. He could've just answered our bloody questions, or pointed us to books that would have helped, but no, he had to make it all even more difficult by giving us even more questions! Questions and problems and… ugh! He honestly just made it more difficult for us to get the bloody essay done."

"I bet he didn't even want to help us." Gideon made a face, and Micheal nodded once again in agreement. "He probably just wanted to make himself look clever in front of the girls in the common room. Honestly, next time we'll just do it by ourselves."

"Or ask Robin."

"Right."

Robin nodded; of course she would help them with their stupid essays if they asked, she always did, but that was entirely besides the point right now. Her thoughts were already drifting off into another direction entirely, to something they hadn't even said, and that yet their rambling had triggered in Robin's mind. A thought, an idea… a perspective! A rush of adrenaline started burning down her veins, and her eyes just as her thoughts inevitably moved away from her breakfast and her friends, towards the head table, then towards Snape. It took but a few more seconds for his eyes to meet hers, and another for his mind to reach out to her.

'That look on your face is not about the dunderhead gang, is it?' He asked, straight to the point, which Robin was as always grateful for.

'No. We need to talk. With words. Now.' Her reply was a mere staccato, phrased like that in order for her request to even come out clear over the mess her thoughts had become once more. Going by the look on his face, he had understood her nonetheless.

'Astronomy tower. In five minutes.'

______________________________

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peach-the-owl · 3 years

Note

Or something with the Cree trying to get rid of the child because she see's how they trigger memory's and want to stop it. But Lucien protects them saying how he needs them.

The Anomaly

Child of the Nein (Lucien & Child!Reader)

You genuinely had a hard time figuring out if what you were doing was worth it or not, the Tombtakers weren’t what you’d call "good people" and yet for some reason or another you just couldn’t bring yourself to abandon them. Perhaps it was your childish ignorance at the hope that maybe, just maybe there was a chance you could appeal to Lucien’s better nature or that a sliver of Molly was still in there somewhere. After all it was quite obvious Lucien had grown attached to you, not to mention he could, at times, recall very faint, blurred memories that belonged to Molly, all of which you were involved in. However you weren’t the only one to notice these little moments, a certain tabaxi was also catching on and was starting to perceive you as more of a threat because of it.

Moving ever closer in on the supposed end goal, you were met with an explosive greeting when entering the ruins of Aeor, something that could’ve easily killed you was shielded by Lucien taking the hit for you. You still took some damage and were left with a ringing in your ears as you look around to see Otis, Tyffial, and Zoran all unconscious, Cree badly damaged by the blow and despite Lucien taking most of the hit he was unaffected. Voices came out muffled over the sound of your fast beating heart, tuning out everything as you try and calm yourself from the near death experience. Looking over you can see a few looks of guilt aimed at you by the Nein, so wrapped up in their plans they’d most likely forgotten your presents, even catching sight of Essek with them who looked generally shocked to see you in the first place. You don’t have time to dwell on the matter long as you’re suddenly teleported to another location and on the move, coming back to your senses just in time to feel the effects of a magical quake shake through the area while making your way deeper into the ruins.

"Are ye alright?" Lucien asks kneeling next to you, taking a moment to catch your breaths.

"Ummm, yeah I-I think so." You reply, shaking yourself back into reality again. "Are you okay?" You already knew the answer to the question but just let the words slip out anyways.

"Perfectly fine." He gives you a side smile.

"Of course he’s fine, he’s untouchable." Cree huffs under her breath, though you still catch it. The three of you travel deeper into the ruins, fighting off any creatures that get in the way, Cree and Lucien doing most of the work while you stayed more to the sidelines as support. Finally you find a place to stop and rest taking some time to heal and bandage up your wounds while they conversed with each other. You zone them out as you look yourself over, at this point you now had 6 of those red eyes on you, still not fully sure what each of them do aside from now having darkvision. Those dreams where still present too, always welcoming you, always offering great knowledge and power. The power part you didn’t really need or care much for, but knowledge was a handy thing, however you tried not to fall too deep into their possible false promises. Things were so complicated now and it was hard and exhausting for you to deal with all of this because let’s be real here you were just a kid, you didn’t ask for all this, you just wanted to live a simple, happy, fun filled life with your friends… Who were you kidding, your life was never simple, happy and fun filled at times, yes, but never simple.

"I’ll take watch, you two rest up." Lucien's words pull you away from your thoughts you look up and watch him walk off to patrol the area, leaving you alone with Cree. You try to settle down but the hard stare from the tabaxi was not helping things and you end up staring back.

"Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing." She says with a low growl. Your brows furrow in confusion at her.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not really doing anything." You reply, hoping to move away from whatever was happening here.

"Playing stupid isn’t going to work either, I know you’re a cunning one when you want to be." Sure she had a point, you could be quite the little charmer and deceiver but what did that have to do with your current situation? She suddenly pounces on you, one hand grabbing your neck, claws slightly digging into you, making you let out a small yelp.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" You weren’t really thinking, just letting words tumble out in fear and confusion.

"I should’ve gotten rid of you when I first had the chance, but I let you stay thinking you couldn’t do anything to harm our mission. I see now how wrong I was in assuming your presents wouldn’t affect Lucien like you have, placing that imposters memories into his mind! Once he sees how much of an infection you were he’ll be thankful." She sneers, her grip tightening around you as magic sparks to life in her free hand. Every joint in your body erupts in pain, like your blood was being moved in all the wrong directions as Cree holds her focus on you. Unable to move you let out a cry at the feeling of being split apart, then it stops, her weight on you disappears, the pain still lingers but is mostly gone. Slowly, hesitantly you crack open your eyes to see Cree partly sprawled on the ground, like she’d been thrown off of you and looking up nervously. You follow her gaze, landing on Lucien who steps in front of you like a barrier, and while you couldn’t see his face his menacing stance told enough as he then stalks over to the tabaxi.

"Cree." His voice comes out as a growl, while closing in on her. She scrambles to her feet, holding her arms out in defence.

"My Nonagon, please if you would just listen-" She’s cut off by Lucien grabbing hold on the collar of her coat and harshly slamming her up against the wall.

"You are treading very thin ice right now. If I were you I’d choose my next words carefully." His voice comes out as a hiss as he holds an intense stare on her. Cree takes a second to find her words before speaking.

"This child is an anomaly and they’re jeopardizing our goals, don’t you see it? They were originally with that imposter and yet you openly welcomed them. You'd rather save their life then the others, they don’t even serve a purpose! All this child's done is play a few measly songs. They’re messing with your head, and are nothing but trouble you have to believe me!" She explains, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. You never liked how they’d refer to Molly as some "imposter" but knew better then to speak up about it in this tense situation.

"Jeopardizing?" Lucien raises a questioning eyebrow at the word before letting out a low chuckle. "I can’t believe ya feel threatened by them. They have their purpose for being here just as much as you. They haven’t slowed us down either, it’s their rowdy friends that have been the largest obstacle to our plans."

"That’s the other thing, they're friends with those people, shouldn’t that be a sign of trouble?" As much as Cree tried to show confidence, she was shaking, especially when Lucien narrows his eyes at her.

"If anythin', yer the one losing sight to our goal, best get yerself back on track." He lets go of Cree causing her to slid down the wall a small ways before catching herself.

"Why keep them around? What’s their purpose? I have to know!" She blurts out without thinking, covering her mouth in self shock once Lucien gives her a pointed glare.

"You wanna know so badly, do ya?" He lets a sigh. "Fine. For yer sake think of it like this; every ruler needs an heir, every god an avatar." He pauses, giving you a chance to also let this information sink in, thoughts flooding your head trying to figure out if there was more meaning behind this. Cree also seemed to be having a hard time wrapping her head around what was said to her, she opens her mouth to say something but Lucien beats her to it. "Now that that’s all sorted out, this conversation is over. Since we don’t wish to rest here, let’s get a move on." He then walks over to you and offers a hand, with slight hesitance you reach up and take it letting him hoist you back onto your feet and start leading you farther down into darkened city of Aeor.

"Is-is that really all I’m here for?" You will up the courage to ask, looking up at him still a little confused, he stares back down at you with a softened expression compared to how he looked at Cree earlier.

"Only if ye want to look at it at face value. There’s more to it then that, but I suppose some just wouldn’t want to understand." He gives a side look over at his loyal cleric who now walks a bit of a distance behind the two of you.

#critical role #critical role & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #lucien #lucien & reader #nothing romantic here

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sheliesshattered · 2 years

Text

Chameleons and Bowties - chapter 7

In the weeks after his concussion, Adrian Smith of the Coal Hill English department becomes certain of two things: First, he has been in love with his colleague Clara Oswald for as long as he can remember. And second, Clara is most definitely having a secret affair with John Smith, Coal Hill’s Scottish caretaker.

Souffez and Whouffaldi canon-divergent AU set in roughly s9. Rated T, will be 11 chapters and ~25,000 words when finished. Chapter 7 is 2300 words. Posted for the #EmbraceTheRaven event week three prompt ‘genre shift’. New chapters will be posted every Saturday. Also available on AO3 under the same title and username.

–

Chameleons and Bowties - Chapter 7

“Is it safe to take Adrian into the __?” Dr Jones asked, once they’d left the Black Archive and entered a long narrow hallway.

“Probably,” John replied, not breaking his stride. “Won’t jog his memory, at any rate. I can’t make any promises about existential crises, but everyone reacts differently. Frankly, I’ve always been curious how I would take it, if the shoe were on the other foot.”

“What’s this now?” Adrian asked, trying to keep up in more ways than one. Whatever strangeness was going on, he supposed he was all in now. Anything to save Clara.

“The, uh, word you can’t hear,” Osgood said, meeting his gaze. “It’s his spaceship.”

“And timeship,” Dr Jones added as they entered the lift at the end of the hallway.

“You’re having me on,” Adrian said, disbelief colouring his tone. Around them, the lift began to move upwards. “Just when I thought today couldn’t possibly get any weirder, now you’re telling me he's an alien, too?”

John shot him an acidic look. “Stop expecting things to get less weird. Your ‘normal’ life was the anomaly, not this.”

Unsure what to make of that, Adrian snarked back, “Courtney Woods warned me against going to see your spaceship, you know.”

“Taking her to the moon was a bad idea on my part, admittedly,” John said grudgingly.

“Think this is weird for you,” Dr Jones murmured as the lift came to a stop, “imagine how the rest of us feel.”

The doors opened to reveal an ancient-looking stone roof ringed with parapets. The sun was setting in the distance, and a chill wind whistled in from the nearby Thames. In the far corner from the lift stood an old fashioned police box, blue-painted wood and white-framed windows, exactly like the image that had been planted in Adrian’s mind by the supposed aliens the others all called the Tu’kavari.

“How did that get up here?” Adrian asked in confusion as they crossed the roof towards the police box.

“It’s a spaceship!” John cried, exasperated. He turned to Dr Jones. “Was I this bad, back when it was you and me hiding out?”

“Worse, somehow,” she answered dryly.

“I saw this, in that vision or whatever it was,” Adrian said, ignoring John’s insult. “Is this what they meant, then, when they said we have your machine?”

“Yes,” John said, lengthening his strides to reach it faster. “T-A-R-D-I-S, Time And Relative Dimension In Space. That’s the word you can’t hear.”

“But they don’t have it, if it’s here. Were they bluffing about that, too?”

John sent him a scathing look over his shoulder. “It’s a time machine. There are two versions of it in the local area, currently. This one and an older version that we left hidden in Clara’s flat. That’s the one they have.” He paused at the door of the police box, pulling a key from his pocket and fitting it into the lock. The door opened and he stepped inside in one fluid motion, as though he had done it a thousand times before.

Dr Jones followed after him without a backward glance, and Adrian hesitated, wondering how they were all expected to fit into such a small wooden box, supposed spaceship or no.

“It’s, uh—” Osgood started, then shook her head. “Nevermind. You’ll have to see it to believe it.” She offered him a reassuring smile and stepped through the door as well, leaving Adrian alone on the rooftop in the rapidly dimming light.

For half a moment, he considered making a run for it, getting as far away from the entire situation as he could. But the vision from the Tu’kavari was still sharp in his memory — the feeling of Clara lying lifeless in his arms, the inhuman voice telling him, We have the woman you love. He still wasn’t completely convinced that he could trust Osgood and Dr Jones, much less John Smith, but as much as it might be easier to believe this was all some elaborate hoax, he couldn’t deny the alien feeling of the Tu’kavari forcing their way into his mind, couldn’t dismiss the first-hand experience of something so impossible.

Which meant that Clara was actually in danger. The others all seemed to believe that the threat against her life was real, and John was— Well, Adrian could hardly continue to think that the abrasive Scotsman was indifferent to Clara, when his frantic worry about her was so blatantly obvious. He loved her as much as Adrian did, and had declared that he would stop at nothing to get her back safe.

How could Adrian do any less? How could he possibly walk away now and leave Clara to her fate? No. He would do whatever it took to get her back, no matter how bizarre all of this seemed, no matter how unlikely. Clara was in danger, and he would go to hell and back to save her.

His mind made up, Adrian gathered his courage and pushed his way past the blue wooden door, trying to ready himself for whatever lay beyond.

But nothing could have prepared him for the room on the other side of the door. It wasn’t just bigger than the footprint of the police box, it was cavernous, dimly lit and seeming to stretch on impossibly in every direction. A sort of circular computer station occupied the centre of the room directly ahead of him, at which John was already standing, tapping away at a keyboard, ostensibly ignoring him while Osgood and Dr Jones lingered nearby. Adrian’s gaze followed the central pillar upwards to a large set of rotors that disappeared into the low light overhead.

“Oh, this is...” he started, words failing him as he nearly stumbled over his feet, trying to simultaneously walk towards the centre console and look around the room, unable to pull his eyes away from the inconceivable sight around him. “This is proper— proper alien, isn’t it?”

“I’ll give the Chameleon Arch this much: its impression of a pudding brain is spot-on,” John said sourly, not looking up from the monitor in front of him.

“Don’t pretend this isn’t your favourite part of introducing someone to the __,” Dr Jones chided him gently.

Adrian paid them no mind, too engrossed by the interior of the police box. A second level ringed the entire space, filled with bookshelves and chalkboards and well-worn armchairs, accessible from the several staircases placed at intervals around the room. It was somehow both ancient and brand new, cosy and homey and yet like something brought to life directly out of science fiction. Osgood was right: no description, no warning could possibly have prepared him for the reality of seeing it in person.

An external awareness touched his mind, and Adrian flinched, bracing himself for another assault from the Tu’kavari, another round of pain and horror and threats against Clara. But to his amazement, this time the foreign presence in his head was gentle and calming, speaking to him not with the terrifying collective voice like knives dragged over ice, but rather in abstract concepts the size of galaxies, wordless and profound.

“Is this ship... alive??” he asked, trying to grasp what it was he was being told, and by whom.

John shot him a brief surprised look, barely pausing in whatever it was he was occupied with at the computer console. “Now that is a first.”

“It is alive, isn’t it?” Adrian went on, more sure of it with each passing second. “It— she, she knows me. She’s always known me,” he added in an awed whisper.

He pulled his gaze down from the rotors to find Osgood watching him with that same longing, wistful look he’d seen her direct at John and Clara, though he couldn’t imagine why. “She stole you and ran away, a very long time ago,” she said. “It’s always you and her, in the end.”

“Ah ha, gotcha!” John said triumphantly, before Adrian could ask Osgood what on Earth that meant.

“You found Clara?” she said, turning towards him.

John shook his head. “Not Clara, the signature of the other __. Oh, she’s clever,” he murmured, his gaze still on the monitor on the central console. “She put the __ into siege mode. That’s why the line went dead: no communication in or out, except from Gallifrey High Command or another __ in siege mode.” He tapped a few keys, frowning at the display. “But it also would have locked her out of all the major systems, since she’s not a Time Lord — flight controls and navigation and just about everything else.”

“So wherever Clara is, she’s stuck,” Dr Jones said, grimacing. “No way to fly the __ or call for help or anything.”

“Would she be able to take the __ out of siege mode?” Osgood asked.

“She ought to be able to,” John said, finally looking away from the monitor to meet Osgood’s gaze. “Unless it’s not safe,” he added ominously. “Unless she needs to stay in siege mode.”

“Unless they have her, you mean,” Adrian said, too sure he was right to quite manage to phrase it as a question. “Unless it wasn’t a bluff.”

John looked at him sidelong, his face serious. “Given the evidence at hand, in all likelihood the Tu’kavari do technically have the __, with Clara inside,” he said. “But they can’t do anything to either of them, so long as Clara stays in siege mode. It’s all hollow threats. For now, at least.”

“Then how do we save her?” Adrian demanded.

“I’m working on it,” John muttered, turning his attention back on the computer monitor. “It doesn’t help that we’re going into this blind. I miscalculated the Tu’kavari once already, and it got Clara captured. We can’t risk doing that again.”

“Well, what do we know about the Tu’kavari?” Dr Jones asked, looking from John to Osgood.

“Clara’s report said that they’re a telepathic hivemind conglomerate,” she replied, “travelling around the universe subjugating and absorbing other telepathic beings. They want the Doctor, for obvious reasons, but Earth’s population should be fairly safe from them.”

Dr Jones’s brow wrinkled in concern. “That’s all we have?”

“UNIT has never had contact with the Tu’kavari before, so nearly everything we know comes through Clara. She didn’t get much of a chance to talk with Bowtie,” Osgood said, catching herself with a wince halfway through a gesture towards Adrian, “before he used the Chameleon Arch, but she wrote down what little he was able to tell her.”

“No, hang on, what have I got to do with any of this?” Adrian demanded. “My memory’s been a bit fuzzy since my accident, but I’m sure I’ve never said anything like that to Clara.”

“Your ‘accident’ wasn’t actually an accident, or an injury of any sort,” Dr Jones said, turning to him. “You had to forget all of this, so you could hide from the Tu’kavari. Your name isn’t really Adrian Smith—”

“What the hell are you talking about? Of course it is!”

“We don’t have time for this,” John growled, crossing towards Adrian with a few long strides, his heavy boots ringing loudly against the metal floor. “We can’t truly end this without the fob watch, but until then, this will have to do.”

Without warning, John seized him by the shoulders and knocked his forehead into Adrian’s with enough force to send Adrian staggering back a few steps.

“Ow! Why would you—” he started, but he was quickly overwhelmed by a flood of images in his mind, flickering rapidly, each one overflowing with information, with history, with memory. There were too many to count, too much all at once to try to make any sense of it, but amongst all of it a few moments jumped out, seared onto his heart as if he’d always known and was only just now remembering:

Clara smiling at him, framed in the doorway of the TARDIS as he leaned against the console, watching her fondly.

A field of shimmering deep space filling his entire vision, stars and galaxies whose names he knew, planets and moons he had walked, the whole wide scattered universe peppered with his fingerprints.

His hands digging through a pile of old clothes, discarding some sort of monk’s habit in favour of a familiar tweed jacket and bowtie, as his pulse thrummed in his chest, excited and relieved.

Clara saying to him, “She said you were the savior of worlds, once. Are you going to save this one?” and his own voice replying, “If I do, will you come away with me?”

It was all too much, disjointed and yet intensely personal, intensely his. Defeat and triumph, adventure and heroism, love and loss so painful he thought he would never recover. But then Clara, always Clara, her hand in his and her eyes watching him as though he’d hung the moon and the stars.

“How—” he managed to gasp out as the flashes of memory continued unabated. “How is any of this possible??”

And the TARDIS, his TARDIS, how could he have ever forgotten? The daft old man who stole a magic box and ran away. Oh, that box. You’ll dream about that box. It’ll never leave you. Big and little at the same time. Brand new and ancient, and the bluest blue ever.

The most beautiful thing he had ever known.

“Telepathic transference,” John was saying, as the images in Adrian’s mind continued to ripple outwards, like a stone dropped in water, disrupting everything he thought he knew about himself. “Martha and Osgood are right,” he went on, “you had to forget everything, so that you could hide from the Tu’kavari. Only it hasn’t worked. They found us anyway. And now Clara’s in danger, so I need you to step up, memories or no, and do the only thing Clara has ever asked of us: be a Doctor.”

Chapter 8

#Embrace The Raven #EmbraceTheRaven #Souffez #Whouffaldi #Clara Oswald/Eleventh Doctor #Clara Oswald/Twelfth Doctor #available on AO3 under the same title and username #please comment and reblog!#my writing #Chameleons and Bowties #Chameleons and Bowties chapters #Doctor Who fanfic #Doctor Who #Clara and the Doctor #Clara Oswald #Eleventh Doctor #Twelfth Doctor #Petronella Osgood #Martha Jones

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Man’s Best Friend.”

Try not to bee too mad at me guys :) Sorry about the angst.

It is a more than well known anomaly that humans will social bond with any species. This is not barring their danger levels, or factors of perceived cuteness; no matter the cost, humans will pack bond with any animal. They have even been known to bond with inanimate objects and houseplants. However, one of the greatest bonds man has ever created, is their bond with dogs. Thousands of years ago a man shared his food and his fire with a wolf: another social pack species. After years and years of careful breeding selection manipulated by humans, they ‘created’ an animal that protects loyally, forgives quickly, and loves unconditionally.

In my study of humans, I have found that the emotional bond with a dog can run deeper than an emotional bond with humans. I am not entirely sure why a human would find it more displeasing to watch a movie where a dog dies than to watch a movie where a human dies, but I have some suspicion that it has to do with the innocence and unconditional friendship that dog has given man, a quality that man has never given himself.

***

Waffles: a 75lb 34kilo german shepherd shoved her head into an alien bush nose working furiously as she pawed through the strange purple plant. She came back up a moment later and sneezed violently sending up a cloud of delicate yellow polin.

Admiral Vir laughed and whistled, and turning on her heel she bounded back to him over open ground her ears straight up, her tail wagging furiously. She ran up to him and touched her nose to his hand as if tagging base before bounding off again to sniff the path before them.

Krill and Sunny walked with him, Krill staring at the brightly colored alien landscape with buzzing antenna.

Waffles leaped through another patch of wild blue grass sending up more white spores into the air, stopping only to sneeze again before continuing.

Sunny went up to walk beside the Admiral, “She looks happy.”

Adam nodded, “Yeah, I like bringing her down on occasion to get some fresh air. I know she does pretty well on the ship, but I feel bad keeping her cooped up so much.”

With another bound Waffles plowed through a shallow stream sending up droplets of water.

This planet was one the GA had been studying for some time, and, as it seemed, it was a relatively nice, habitable planet that they were readying for colonization for the Finnari, or perhaps, humans, or even both permitting everything went well.

Krill watched the dog as she plowed through the grass, rolling in the weeds like she was having the time of her life.

Predators used to scare him, but the dog had proven herself to be docile at the Admiral’s command, and he could at least tolerate her if not like her…. Just a little.

Adam Grinned at his dog’s antics and charged into the grass after her.

The dog dropped her front paws, but and tail sticking up in the air, a nonverbal invitation for her master to play with her. He didn’t reject her offer and raced forward to play chasing her around the field, their legs swishing over the grass. She barked happily as they did.

Adam had now ran far ahead of the others towards another nearby forest path. Waffles was behind him just a little ways as he pulled to a halt panting.

It was then that he heard it, a sudden rustling of foliage turning into a swirling thunder of air.

He turned on the spot eyes wide in shock and surprise.

Surprise at the ravening beast charging directly towards him, its purple fur and white tusks glittering in the sun. he leapt out of the way, but the beast was quick, about waist height and angry. He was so startled he couldn't even scream his only reaction to try to kick at the creature and keep it back.

It squared off against him, and he tried backing away, but it charged again.

There was a sudden snarling noise, and waffles charged into the fight snarling and snapping.

She bit the creature hard on it’s back leg.

“WAFFLES!” Adam shouted

The creature turned violently and whipped it’s tusks at waffles, who didn’t heed them as she charged in again, snapping at its face and throat forcing herself between Adam and his attacker.

It thrashed and she yelped in pain, but charged forward again, grabbing it by the leg and holding on for dear life as it trampled into the bush dragging her along with it.

Another yelp came from the forest, high pitched and painful.

“WAFFLES!” It didn’t take a moment before Adam was chagrin into the bush after them pulling his sidearm as he did. He followed the sound just in time to see the creature whip it’s head around and catch waffles hard in the side picking her up and tossing her to the ground. Blood drenched her fur, while green icor drenched her muzzle.

He screamed in anger instead of fear this time as he leveled his sidearm and emptied his magazine at the creature. He wasn’t sure how many hit, but the creature was tough enough that it staggered off itne bush yowling. He ignored it for the time and ran, throwing himself to his knees at the side of waffles, who was lying on the ground breathing shallowly.

Sunny roared into the clearing just behind them, her spear raised, but the creature was already gone.

Adam reached out his hands which were trembling so badly he could barely function, “Waffles, waffles no no no no.”

He rested a hand on her side and she whimpered in pain, her muzzle resting on the ground her eyes half hooded.

A choked sob broke from his throat, “No. no…. You’re g-gonna be o-ok.”

His hands fluttered uselessly over her body, covered in blood.

“KRILL! PLEASE Someone… h-help.”

Sunny stood back in shock and fear as Adam clawed at his hair, tears rolling down his face in uncontrolled streams.

Krill scuttled in not far after.

Adam turned to look at him his face twisted into a snarl, “Help her!” His voice cracked on demand and he turned back hands still shaking not knowing what to do. Being a doctor krill was well aware that the human’s anger was displaced and did not take it personally as he moved forward and took a look at the injured animal.

He lifted her front paw, and she whimpered piteously.

Off to the side Adam was still inconsolable, his hands in his hair threatening to rip out fistfulls with his clutching fingers. His agitations was actually getting in the way of Krill working.

“Adam, Adam just hold her head ok, help her stay calm.”

He nodded following orders stiffly, crawling over the ground to sit her head in his lap and tell her she was such a good girl and that she was going to be ok. Streams of continual tears rolled down his cheeks and onto her fur. Waffles licked his hand lethargically.

Sunny knelt next to him, hand on his shaking shoulder powerless as for what to do.

She had never seen him like this, ever.

Not that Adam was one to conceal his emotions completely, but he generally subscribed to silent tears if there were any at all. This, this was different, no holds barred uncontrollably sobbing, the kind where the human loses all functioning, eyes, nose, mouth and racking sobs that shook the body in aggressive, violent spasms.

Krill rolled waffles a little further onto her side spotting a deep gash from her chest and abdomen. He couldn't tell how deep it was, and didn’t want to look in this sort of environment.

“Sunny, call the shuttle!”

The urgency in his voice only served to secure Adam’s worst fears, “No… no, ou’re going to be o.”

“Adam, give me your jacket.”

He did without hesitation, ripping it off his body and offering it to krill as if it was the thing that was going to save her life.

Krill got Adam to help lift her onto the jacket and wrap her up, while he used some thing from his medical kit to staunch the bleeding. Waffles was still conscious, through her eyes were half lidded.

“Please be ok.” Adam begged, and despite all her injuries, her tail thudded against the ground at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand. This only started his tears flowing even harder.

Overhead the sound of engines whirred, and touched down on the grass not far away.

“Ok, lift her gently.”

He did as ordered hugging her to his chest and practically racing towards the shuttle as it descended.

When the doors opened he practically bowled past the waiting marine who looked on in shock.

He gently lay Waffles on one of the seats all but yellin at one of the marines to make sure she stayed there before racing to the ront of the craft.

“Admiral are you sure…” The copilot began.

“Get out o my fucking way!” he snarled, and the ire in his voice was so that the man quickly leaped from his seat as Adam slid into the pilot’s seat. Krill was worried that the human was going to kill them all trying to pilot in that state, but what he witnessed next was a feat of pure talent and skill as he maneuvered them up through the clouds faster and steadier than krill would have thought possible.

Waffles whimpered softly in the background, held tight in Sunny’s arms now.

Their copilot sent out a medial call as soon as was feasible and very prudent.

By the time they made it inside, a crew was waiting with a stretcher.

Didn’t matter that it was waffles, but they treated her as they might any human with krill tagging long beside.

Adam ran after them until the doors to the med bay shut in his face and he was told to stay outside.

***

Sunny made her way quietly down the hall footsteps no more than a whisper over the metal floor. It was dark on the ship, the lights having been dimmed for the night. Up ahead she could see light filtering out into the hallway, and the rim lighting of a figure sitting in the dark.

She moved forward, and the mass of shadow coalesced from the darkness. Adam sat on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, head in his hands. Three pairs of bright yellow eyes looked up at her from the darkness. And Sunny tilted her head in surprise to see three Finnari curled up around Adam. One leaned against his left side, one leaned against his right side, and one rested against his legs.

The others raised their heads, though Adam remained curled up with his head in his hands.

Sunny nodded to them, “I can take it from here.” She said quietly

The Finnari looked between each other and then waddled to their feet. One of them patted Adam’s hair before joining the group and waddling off down the hall. Sunny knelt and then slowly sat next to Adam resting a hand on his back.They sat in the dark in silence for a long while before he looked up at her.

His cheeks were still wet, and she had no idea how he was still producing any, sure he would have dehydrated hours ago.

In response, she pulled the human closer using all four of her arms until he was curled up against her head resting against her chest.

“I….I can’t l-lose her s-sunny…. I I don’t know what I-I’d do.”

She rubbed his back gently with one of her lower hands, feeling as his body continued to spasm rhythmically with the beat of his grief. He covered his eyes with his right hand turning into her chest as if trying to hide his face. His teeth were gritted against quiet sobs.

But despite his attempts to stay quiet, he couldn’t.

It killed Sunny to watch.

He was completely debilitated. She had seen a human like this maybe once before under different circumstances. Neither war, nor kidnapping, or injury in the time she had known him had ever brought this man to his knees, and if it had it had been silently and alone where he dealt with it himself.

This was different.

He had snapped, broken right in half.

It surprised her almost how fragile humans were, after everything he could have gone through, and after everything he did, this is what hurt him.

His grief came in waves, one moment she thought he had finally calmed down, and then the next moment he was escalating again just as bad as before. It was exhausting to watch, and she had no idea what to do other than keep him company in the dimness of the hallway.

They were there for hours.

And then the door hissed open.

Adam shot to his feet as krill stepped out into the hall.

His hair was disheveled -- even more so than usual-- his face was red and puffy, his eyes were ringed in bright red. The collar of his shirt was damp.

Sunny rose to her feat as well.

“Is she-” he couldn't finish, choking up again.

“She’s alright, we were just waiting for her to wake up to make sure. But she’s going to be ok.”

This time the sound he made was a sob of relief rather than grief, “Can I see her?”

Krill paused but then nodded, motioning him back. He hurried after into the med bay.

At the end of the room, waffles lay curled up on one of the beds.

She was wrapped in bandages and an IV was held into her right front leg with pink gauze. Someone had managed to fashion a makeshift cone out of plastic shielding.

Adam rushed over.

Waffles blinked slowly at him, too tired to lift her head, but her tail began to whap happily against the covers of the bed. He smiled rubbing his hands through the soft fur of her face and ears, “Good girl…. You’re such a good girl.” tears were leaking down his face again, but he was smiling.

With great effort, waffles lifted her head, licking at his face with her long pink tongue, whipping the tears from his face the only way she knew how.

Krill walked over and paused by them, “She should be up and about by tomorrow, but she definitely needs to rest and recover.”

Adam looked up at Krill, “Can I stay here…. With her?”

Krill looked at him unsure, but the look on the human’s face was one the little alien certainly couldn't say no to , and he sighed, “Alright, you can stay.”

When Sunny left the room Adam was curled up on the bed with the dog resting with her back to his chest, the two of them fast asleep.

Thank the spirits Waffles was ok.

***

Ask a human, the vast majority of them find the sadness of grief or pain of a dog to be more poignant than that of a human -- unless the human is one they know--. This is why movies often employ dogs for emotional factors. Perhaps you cannot get an audience to cry for the pain of a human, but if you get a dog to wait at its owner's owners grave than you can have an entire audience in tears. As I said earlier. It's hard to watch the pain of someone who doesn't deserve that pain and never will.

Dogs are a reflection of the best parts of man

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [97]

xiii. blood giant

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: blood, fighting, violence, death, angst, language.

Summary: your return to sanctum coincides with a red sun eclipse, making an already stressful situation worse.

a/n: do words about this chapter even need to be said? the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

The tension in the room is so thick that it’s practically suffocating.

Gabriel, Doucette, Cadogan, Bellamy and Raven remove their helmets, all of them looking around the room as they do, their eyes landing on Russell, who is standing next to the throne of bones. Gabriel steps forward a little, smiling a little at his former friend and current adversary. “Russell. What the hell is this?”

Russell stares at him with an angry glare, countering, “Who the hell are you?”

And though you have no idea what’s going on, you know that the man in the front of the room, standing next to a horrifying throne, his body adorned in Grounder clothes, is not Russell. You step forward a little, drawing Gabriel’s eyes back to you, and earning a warning stare from Cadogan. “That's not Russell.”

Confirming your point, the man between Russell and Indra announces, “This is Malachi kom Sangedakru, and you will kneel before him.”

You hear Raven whisper, “Well, I guess we found Sheidheda's code.”

Sheidheda. Not a threat that you expected to arise in your time away from Sanctum. Civil War between Wonkru, Eligius, and the Sanctumites? Sure, very likely. The Children of Gabriel changing their minds and deciding to kill everyone who left them out to die? It’s possible. But the code of a Dark Commander killed over a hundred years ago now taking over the body of your mother’s killer? Not something you were expecting.

Sheidheda seems to be handling his power well, because he looks over all of you with no fear or worry. “Since my Ascension, the protocol has become rather simple really. Kneel...or die.”

You pull a face and Cadogan bristles, stepping away from you and the others to draw closer to the opposing leader. “Ordinarily, I would relish the opportunity to recruit your forces to the cause. But unfortunately, I have neither the time nor patience to suffer your primitive tribalism.”

He holds out his hands and bows his head, giving a silent signal to the hidden disciples in the room to begin shooting. They take out every person in the room that is holding a gun, killing them all without hesitation, before revealing themselves one by one, deactivating their ghost mode. You are hyper aware of at least one missing disciple, still hidden from view, but your mind is distracted from the information when Raven calls out, “Murphy!”

She and Clarke rush towards him, along with Indra, and you try to step closer to them, only to be stopped in place by Doucette. You turn towards him and glare, wondering if you can use your restraints to choke him out before anyone would notice, but you see Bellamy looking at you from the corner of your eye. When you shift your gaze to him, he’s giving you a look, one that says he knows exactly what’s going through your mind and that you better stop considering it. You roll your eyes and turn away from him, catching bits and pieces of the whispered conversation being held by your friends and twin.

“...ray guns I can accept, but that…”

“...Madi's safe with…”

“...Gaia was with you.”

“...safe for now.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Cadogan, who was also eavesdropping, and who is now turning to give commands to the disciples in the room. “Restrain the soldier with him.”

The disciples move towards Indra and Sheidheda, but Clarke steps in front of Indra, trying to protect her. “No, she's with us.”

They take Indra away anyways, ignoring Clarke, and Cadogan watches them take the warrior over to a pole in the room, preparing to tie her up. “She was standing unrestrained by the throne. The only reason she’s not dead is because she was unarmed.”

Sheidheda lets out a yell and starts to run towards Cadogan, intending to attack the cult leader, but the last unseen disciple stops him in his place, shoving a knife into his side. He lets out a grunt of pain as the disciple turns off ghost mode and then drops him, Sheidheda falling to his knees as he clutches his side. Black blood seeps between his fingers as Cadogan points at the microphone nearby and bends down to Sheidheda’s level. “That wound is deep. I have no interest in removing you from your throne, so here's my proposal. You give me undisturbed passage to get what I came for. That means I see not a single soul on our path, and I leave Dr. Santiago here to treat you. When we're gone, you're free to continue the debasement of our species until you're saved like the rest of humanity by the completion of my quest. Refuse this, and you die.”

Sheidheda just lets out a grunt and Bill nods. “Right then. Make the announcement, I don't want to see anyone in our way.”

Sheidheda nods once and reaches for the microphone, and Cadogan rises to his feet and turns in the direction of the exit. “Onward to the Key.”

He walks past all of you, and Bellamy and Doucette move to pass. When you don't follow, one of the disciples shoves you ahead, behind the group of men. Gabriel stays behind to save the Dark Commander and the two of you exchange a look before you are pushed out the door. Murphy, Raven, and Clarke all move behind you, following you through the palace, and Clarke gets close to you and whispers, “I’m gonna get you out of those cuffs.”

You whisper back, “I’m more concerned with getting rid of Cadogan.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Well, work faster.”

A disciple reaches out to shove you again, moving you apart from Clarke and the others as the group steps out into the cool night air, goosebumps immediately lifting across your skin. Cadogan and the others look out on Sanctum, watching as people scurry into their homes and out of sight, following the instructions of Sheidheda, who is repeating a message on the loudspeakers overhead. The Shepherd turns and glances at the castle, a disgusted look passing over his face as he mutters, “A fire burned castle surrounded by a city of garbage dumpsters.”

You turn and look at the castle, realizing for the first time that half of it is burned away. You turn to look at Clarke, your eyes asking a question, but she just shakes her head in that ‘tell you later’ sort of way. Ahead of you, Cadogan continues his musings. “Everywhere human beings go is worse off for it, but thanks to us, we will transcend. Thanks to us, we will reach the promised land.”

Clarke, tired of the man and his ramblings, scoffs, “Oh, for God's sake.”

She pushes past him and walks ahead, moving down the stairs, and Raven scrambles to follow. Cadogan and Doucette begin walking again, and Bellamy waits until you're at his side to continue moving down the stairs behind the others. Murphy catches up with the two of you, reaching out to grab Bellamy’s arm. “Hey, so what's our play here?”

Bellamy speaks for the first time since arriving on the planet, turning to look at Murphy in confusion. “Our play?”

“Don't get me wrong, you look good. Not as good as me, but I know a thing or two about pretending to be something you're not.”

You glance over at Murphy and let out a short laugh before moving your gaze over to your brainwashed fiance. “Unfortunately, he’s not pretending.”

Murphy looks at you in confusion, “What?”

Bellamy adds, “This isn't an act, Murphy, I'm trying to save us all. I don't expect you to understand, just know that I am your friend, and I'm looking out for you.”

Murphy looks at you with wide eyes, waiting for one of you to say ‘just kidding’, but you just give him a look that says ‘I wish it was bullshit too’. Murphy nods once, quickly understanding your meaning, barely glancing at Bellamy as he answers, “That's very reassuring. I'm just gonna…”

He trails off, motioning towards Clarke and Raven before he scurries after them, leaving you and Bellamy behind. You watch him go, so eager to get away from disciple Bellamy, and something about it makes you let out a quiet snort of laughter. Bellamy glances at you, brows drawn together as he takes in your amused expression. “What?”

“Murphy is speechless. You actually stunned Murphy into silence. No comeback, no biting remark, just a hasty retreat.” You give him a look of appreciation before your eyes lock on the back of Clarke’s head. “It’s impressive, really.”

Bellamy says nothing, but you spare another quick glance at him, and you swear you can see the ghost of a smile on his face. It gives you hope, because maybe he isn't lost to you yet, maybe you can bring him back to the side of reason, just like you did when he followed Pike. And as all of you start to stride through Sanctum, you open your mouth to ask a question, snapping it shut again when something wet lands on your cheek. You look up, watching as big white flakes of snow fall on Sanctum, and you smile at it, the first sign of snow you’ve seen in years. Skyring has a pretty mild climate year round, and you missed the beauty of the snow in winter.

You turn to look at Bellamy, but his eyes are locked on the sky, his expression haunted. You reach out and touch his arm, getting his attention, and he shakes his head a little before looking at you and whispering, “It snowed on Etherea. I never thought it’d stop snowing. I thought we were going to die in that cave.”

You shake your head, the few sentences containing so much information for you to process. “Etherea? You were on Etherea? What cave? Wait, and who is ‘we’?”

“Doucette and I. We were on Etherea together.”

You look at the man meant to replace Anders, suddenly understanding all of the looks he seems to throw Bellamy’s way. You turn back to Bellamy, who is watching you closely. “What cave?”

“The Anomaly Stone was at the top of a mountain. There’s a cave on the way, the Cave of Ascent, and-”

He’s cut off by Cadogan's voice firmly calling out, “Hold.”

Clarke stops and turns to look at the man in frustration. “Look, I'm in a hurry. You have my twin and our friends. I would like them back, then to see my daughter. If you want to see yours, the Flame is this way.”

She turns towards the stairs behind her, already walking away, but Cadogan calls out to her retreating figure, “New plan. You go, we'll stay here.”

Clarke turns around, an annoyed look on her face, and Bellamy moves forward a little, trying to step in before Clarke loses her cool. “Sir, you heard her. As long as our friends are out there, she won't risk their lives.”

Cadogan nods, motioning towards you, Raven, and Murphy. “That's why these three are staying with us. Hurry along, Clarke. I don't want to be on this infernal moon a moment longer than I have to.”

She gives you a long look, clearly not wanting to leave you behind, but you smile a little and nod, letting her know you’ll be okay. She hesitates for a second longer, her hand absentmindedly reaching out to touch the star charms that hang around her wrist, before she finally nods, turning to leave and quickly head down the stairs. As soon as she’s out of sight, Murphy throws up his hands and tries to walk away from the group. “Well, what do you say we wait in the tavern instead?”

He makes it less than three steps before a handful of invisible disciples appear in front of him, deactivating their ghost modes, and Murphy clutches his chest in fear as he yells out, “Oh, what the hell!”

You and Raven let out a laugh, his reaction easing the tension for half a minute as you call out, “You get used to it!”

He turns to look at you, completely unconvinced. “Yeah?”

You nod, still smiling, before Cadogan interrupts, motioning towards the others, “Come.”

Doucette and Bellamy start to walk away, following the man, but you hang back, fully intending to sit with Raven and Murphy instead. Unfortunately for you, Cadogan senses that you’re no longer behind him, and without turning around, he calls out, “You too, Miss Griffin! I still don't trust you!”

You give an annoyed look to Raven and Murphy, watching as they step away and move towards a small fire pit, leaving you to go and trudge behind the men in white. Cadogan walks them to the top of the stairs that lead down to the crops and the edge of the shield, looking around with a satisfied smile. “I like this spot. High ground.”

You sigh and step past them, moving down one step before plopping down, leaning against the stairs, looking out at the fields below. You can hear Murphy and Raven already talking quietly, leaving you with the stiff, boring Shepherd and his disciples, all of them standing quietly just behind you. They stand in complete silence, and you sit repeating the mantra you created after speaking with Anders, trying to translate it into Trigedasleng. Ai laik wor, reij belen ona ai… you’re hung up on the word for skin, racking your brain, trying to find something close, when Cadogan interrupts your thoughts, sounding annoyed. “What's taking her so long?”

“She'll be here.”

Cadogan turns to look at Bellamy, noting his confidence in Clarke is mixed with uncertainty in his expression. “I know how hard this is on you, son, believing in something with all your heart that the people you love don't understand. You remind me of myself when I was young.”

The thought makes you want to gag, not liking the idea that your fiance is anything like the crazed man that stands behind you. You turn to glance back at the men as Cadogan glances at Doucette. “Would you excuse us, please?”

“Of course, my Shepherd.”

Cadogan watches him go before he turns back to Bellamy again, speaking as if you aren't sitting right beneath their feet. “Doucette's a good man. He'll make a fine replacement for Anders, but he's not like us.”

You roll your eyes, turning away from Bellamy and Cadogan to look out at the field, sending silent messages to Clarke in the hopes that she can hear you. But you have a hard time concentrating on anything other than Cadogan’s preachy speech, delivered to Bellamy with earnest. “The disciples are taught our ways from birth, they know nothing else. Makes faith easy. We, on the other hand, know the pull of love between individuals, what it makes us do, the highs and lows of it, how it leads to hatred of the other, tribalism.”

You can feel his eyes on the back of your neck, staring at you, his words about you, and Bellamy’s love for you. You ignore him as he continues preaching, “I've spent generations dedicating my life to something greater.”

“Transcendence.”

“Now you know the weight of that too. The path of the prophet is always hard. Your friends will understand eventually.”

No we won't. You love Bellamy, you believe in him, you trust him, but you feel none of that for Cadogan. You see right through his bullshit, the same way you saw through Jaha’s bullshit and Pike’s bullshit. He is nothing more than an egotistical cult leader, obsessed with the idea of being worshipped and saving the human race. You start to wonder if it’s worth the risk to kill him now, even if it means the disciples will kill you immediately after. You wish you had your Grounder knife, lost to you since your confrontation on Bardo, your hand practically itching to push the blade into Cadogan’s chest.

Bellamy’s soft, conflicted voice cuts through your thoughts as he appeals to Cadogan for advice. “You had a family, how did you manage it? I feel like I'm failing both you and them.”

“You're not failing me, Bellamy. Far from it.”

“You are failing me.” You know the words are mean, and one glance at Bellamy’s face confirms that they hurt him, but you can’t help it. You're frustrated that he’s buying into Cadogan’s lies, and you just want him to wake up and stop playing disciple.

Cadogan cuts his eyes at you, but you ignore it as he attempts to reassure Bellamy. “You're special. You were given a glimpse of what comes next, just as I was.”

“They all think I'm crazy.”

“And so we ignore their judgments and we save them anyway.”

Bellamy whispers, “For all mankind.”

Cadogan takes a breath and smiles, repeating the words back to him. You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “Joken koken hedswisha seda.”

Fucking crazy cult leader.

“I’m not a cult leader.”

Your eyes go wide and you stand, spinning around to face Cadogan, who seems to understand the Trigedasleng words you just used to insult him. “What did you just say?”

“I’m not a cult leader. Crazy, maybe, but aren't we all?”

You glance over at Bellamy, wondering if he somehow had the time to teach his Shepherd Trig, but he seems just as surprised as you are. You look back over at Cadogan and the smug look on his face. “How do you know Trig?”

He looks like he’s actually going to answer, until he is interrupted by the loudspeakers of Sanctum powering up and beginning an announcement. “Attention, Sanctum. Red sun toxin has been detected. Make your way to your assigned location for evacuation.”

You look at Bellamy in alarm, remembering what happened the last time all of you were exposed to the toxin. Raven and Murphy walk up to you, Doucette behind them, as Murphy jokes, “Time to play another round of ‘Who Wants to Murder Your Friends?’”

“Sir, we should get you back to Bardo.”

Cadogan shakes his head, ignoring Bellamy’s advice. “I'm not going anywhere without the Flame, and for all we know, this is another one of Clarke's tricks.”

“If it is, then it's a good one.” Behind you, you can hear a soft buzzing sound, and curious, you turn to see what it is. The shield over Sanctum that is usually invisible, is now visible to the naked eye, thanks to the thousands of bugs colliding with it, trying to reach all of you down below. You turn to look at the others; you, Murphy, and Bellamy sharing a knowing look based on your first experience with the eclipse. “Bugs.”

All around you, the people of Sanctum have started to scurry from their homes and into their evacuation locations, the P.A. system repeating the warning on a loop. Murphy glances at them as they run past, before turning back to Bellamy. “We should be going with them to Ryker's Keep, or maybe you'd like to drown me again in the pond.”

And as all of you are standing there, waiting for Cadogan to decide on what to do, Sanctum goes dark, punctuated by a chorus of screams. All of the lights, the quiet machine hum, the shield, they all power down, plunging you into darkness before a series of torches are lit by people around you. As you’re able to see the faces of those around you one by one, Raven’s face pulls into one of realization. “Power's out. That means the shield's down.”

You turn to look at the shield, your eyes locking on a strange movement in the sky, seconds before your brain remembers the bugs. The swarm is lowering themselves to the ground, moving towards Sanctum in a wave, and you watch them in fear for a second before calling out, “Guys. We should run.”

Bellamy backs you up, remembering the swarm of bugs from your first night on Sanctum. “She's right, we should go right now.”

“Not without the Key.”

Doucette moves closer to Cadogan, preparing to protect his Shepherd. “I agree with Bellamy. We should execute the hostages and get you home.”

You all look at Doucette in alarm, Bellamy's message lacking anything about an execution, which Murphy comments on. “Well, Bellamy never said that.”

Worried about your possible death, your mind starts to process through your thoughts quickly, trying to think of anything to save your life, before you remember Clarke’s earlier words about wanting to see her daughter. “Clarke heard the alarm too. She'll go for Madi.”

“Yes, right, good. The reactor.”

You look at Murphy in shock. “The reactor? As in the nuclear reactor?”

Murphy grimaces, unable to explain why your niece is in the reactor before Raven adds, “I'll get the power back on and kill the bugs.”

“Before they kill us. Everyone grab a torch!” Bellamy starts to step away, grabbing a torch as he moves, calling out towards your group, “Sir, stay with me. You too, la lune!”

You give him a look at the nickname, not wanting to hear it from disciple Bellamy. Though some of your earlier anger towards him has started to dissipate, you meant it when you said that it was a nickname meant for family, and that as long as he worships Cadogan, he is not your family. But none of that matters, not right now when thousands of toxin crazed bugs are swarming behind all of you, trying to kill you.

Murphy leads all of you to the machine shop built around the reactor, and when you run into the building, you find that bugs are already inside and have already claimed three victims right outside the door of the reactor. Those with the torches use them to push the bugs out of the room and away from all of you, and Bellamy yells, “Scatter them! Get that door closed and seal the windows! The swarm's still outside.”

As they start to lower the door to the garage, a voice calls from just outside, “Wait, hold the door.”

A wave of relief crashes over you as you watch Clarke run inside, a bag slung across her shoulder and a torch in her hand. She immediately locks eyes with you, looking you over and making sure you’re okay as you smile at her. “Clarke!”

Cadogan looks at her with suspicion. “What's in the bag?”

“Antitoxin from the farmhouse.” She pulls the bag off and passes it to Bellamy, who happens to be standing closest to her.

Cadogan deadpans, “For your daughter and twin.”

“Enough for all of us, but, yes, I was thinking of Madi and la lune before you.”

You smile at her, grateful, not too keen to see the ghosts of your past in this moment, but Cadogan ruins the moment by remarking, “Another lesson in the destructiveness of familial love.”

You turn towards him, tired of his preachy attitude. “Destructiveness? That antitoxin is going to keep you from seeing all your regrets playing out in front of you. Maybe you should just go without.”

“La lune…” Bellamy’s voice is a warning, and you turn towards him with an angry look. “I told you not to call me that. And why are you still defending him? ‘The destructiveness of familial love’? How many times has familial saved your life? Octavia’s life? My life? The lives of our people? You can't honestly tell me that you think love is weakness.”

His eyes frantically dart between you and Cadogan, but his expression is unreadable, making you worried that maybe he is lost to you after all. But you never get to find out, because Cadogan steps up beside you and snaps, “Enough, don't make me gag you too.”

You have to physically bite your tongue to hold back your response, your entire body wanting to fight back and put him in his place. But you can see the warning in Clarke’s eyes, telling you not now, not here, so you step back, accepting the antitoxin that Bellamy throws to you as Cadogan turns to your twin. “Do you have the Flame or not?”

You take your dose of the antitoxin as she responds, “If you open this door, I'll give it to you without a fight.”

“All right. Disciple Kelly, the door.”

The disciple steps up and moves towards the door of the reactor, firing a single shot into it, damaging it. Murphy steps towards it first, muttering to all of you, “Let me go in first, I’m the least likely to get attacked.”

You all nod and watch him step inside, you and Clarke waiting just outside of the door until you can hear the soft sounds of happiness from Murphy’s reunion with Emori. You and Clarke exchange a look before she steps inside, in search of Madi, and you stand just outside the door, wanting to follow her, but unsure if you can. You look towards Cadogan, who is standing resolute, before tuning your pleading eyes to Bellamy, hoping they still have some effect on him.

Luckily for you, they do, and he turns to his leader, his voice soft and insistent. “Sir.”

“Fine, go.”

You smile at Bellamy in thanks before turning and stepping through the door, walking around the corner, your eyes already moving past Murphy and Emori. There, a few steps behind them, is your niece, your bright little sun, and her face lights up as she gets a glimpse of you over Clarke’s shoulder. “Ani!”

Your face breaks into a grin as she pulls away from Clarke and runs towards you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. You slip your restrained hands over her shoulders, hugging her back the best you can, relief flooding through you as you look down at Madi. She pulls back and you lift your hand to her cheeks, her eyes landing on the restraints holding your wrists together, and you see a flash of worry cross her features. “Why are you tied up?”

“It’s not important. Are you okay?”

She nods her head, blowing past your concern to focus on her own. “I’m fine, but you aren't.” She reaches up to touch the bruise around your left eye and cheekbone. “What happened?”

The room falls eerily silent around you and you turn to the door to see why, everyone watching in shock as Cadogan steps inside the room. You push Madi backwards, the two of you moving back towards Clarke as you mutter, “He happened.”

And though Cadogan himself did not give you the injuries, his fanatics did, beating you up in defense of their leader. Which means that though it is technically an exaggeration, it isn't a complete falsity. Cadogan crosses the room, over to Clarke, who stands near you and Madi both. You push Madi behind you, putting yourself in front of her, and Clarke puts herself in front of you both. The Shepherd says nothing as he holds his hand out towards Clarke, waiting for his Key.

She reaches into her jacket and hesitantly pulls out the Flame, sliding back the lid on the container just enough so he can see that it’s inside. He takes it with a look of excitement, holding the damaged AI up in his hand as a grin splits his face. “For all mankind.”

Clarke just looks at him until he puts the Flame back in its container and closes it, stepping across the room to stand near the door, Bellamy and Doucette on either side of him. You, Madi, and Clarke back up towards a set of stairs, the two of them lowering themselves down as you stand beside them. The room is tense, everyone unsure of what’s going on or how to act in Cadogan’s presence. Madi gives you and Clarke the quickest summary that she can manage on how all of them ended up hiding in the reactor, and you feel a flash of regret that you weren't here to protect her or keep her safe. Your mind shifts to your curse, the one that plagued you when you first landed on the ground, long forgotten in the chaos since then. But now, standing near the people you love the most, your brainwashed fiance standing across from you, you're suddenly reminded of it again. The curse that takes the people you love away from you, now working in its own creative way: dangling Bellamy just out of your reach.

Madi watches Cadogan across the room, who is back to admiring the damaged Flame, and her voice is low and serious when she whispers, “I don't think you should have given him that.”

You and Clarke exchange a look before you look at her in confusion. “Why?”

“I remember things.”

Clarke looks at her in alarm. “Your sketchbook?”

You know you must have missed something, because you don't understand the importance of Madi’s sketchbook in this conversation, but based on the expression on both Madi’s and Clarke’s faces, you know whatever is in that sketchbook must be a big deal. Clarke confirms as much when she mutters, “Madi, don't tell anyone that, okay? Ever.”

Madi nods and you watch her for a second before you turn to look across the room, over to Bellamy and Cadogan. Cadogan’s eyes are still locked on the Flame, but Bellamy’s are locked on you, watching you closely. You watch him back, searching for any signs of affection in his face, but just like when he followed Pike, his expression is unreadable to you. You sigh and lean your head back against the wall, your hands hanging in front of you, the bar that holds them apart pressing against your body, and you look down at the restraints, tired of being the only one still tied up. The lights in the room come on, reminding you of your genius mechanic friend, who is more than capable of getting you free. You glance over at Clarke and whisper, “I’m gonna go talk to Raven.”

She nods and you slip away, using Cadogan’s focus on his prize to get away unnoticed. You walk into the next room, looking for Raven, but finding no one. Instead, someone steps out of the secondary containment, a blonde haired woman with braids on one side of her head, an Eligius uniform on her body. She barely glances your way as you walk past, and something about the situation raises alarm bells in your head. Worried, you call out, “Raven?”

A soft sob answers your call, and you feel a wave of panic as you rush towards the secondary containment, anxious about what you're going to find. But instead of finding Raven in a pool of blood, bleeding out from some unknown wound, she is kneeling at the base of a machine, knees pulled up to her chest, crying. The sobs that wrack her body are hard, and you look at her with pity as you cross the room, dropping beside her to whisper, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

You have no idea why she’s crying, but it doesn't matter, because she clearly just needs someone by her side. She reaches out for you, wrapping her arms around you, and you hug her back as you settle beside her, beginning to softly hum Clair de lune. She cries in your arms, not stopping when Emori, Murphy, and Clarke run into the room, clearly worried about her. Clarke drops down beside you, Emori moves to Raven’s other side, and Murphy kneels in front of her, all of them reaching out and holding her arm or her hand, offering her their comfort.

You don't know how long the five of you sit together before Bellamy comes into the room and lets you know it’s time to go, but it doesn't feel long enough. You don't want to go back out there and join Cadogan, or watch Bellamy follow him around like a lost puppy, but you know you have no other choice. The others know it too, because you all stand, and Raven quickly wipes away her tears as you walk back into the main part of the reactor.

Clarke grabs Madi, and all of you follow Bill back to the castle, prisoners to the cult leader as you await the return of your friends. When you step inside of the throne room behind Cadogan and two disciples, you find Indra pointing a gun at all of you, surrounded by dead disciples. Sheidheda is leaning against a nearby pole, looking weak and drowsy, Jackson is standing in the corner of the room, surveying the scene, and Gabriel is setting up some machine nearby.

As soon as Indra sees Cadogan, she lifts the gun towards him and snaps, “Where is my daughter?”

“Who the hell is your daughter?”

Bellamy moves from his place behind you, stepping into Indra’s line of sight, holding his hands up in surrender. “Indra, hold on. We didn't know she was missing until today. Nobody did. We're gonna get everyone back, but you have to put down the gun.”

You step forward, nodding at Indra, corroborating Bellamy’s story. “It's okay, Indra. He's gonna help us.”

She lowers the gun, and as soon as it’s clear, Gabriel steps forward. “Does that mean you have the Flame?”

Cadogan nods, “I do.”

“I believe I can restore the damaged code with this.” Gabriel turns and motions towards the nearby machine, and you look at him in disbelief. What is with these men and following Cadogan? “It's used to repair memory drives, stitching together broken strings of code. Code, like the Flame itself, that was created by-”

Cadogan cuts him off, saying her name first, “Becca Franko.” Gabriel nods in confirmation and the cult leader mutters, “Show me.”

He passes the Flame to Gabriel, and all of you watch as he loads the tech into the machine. “If Becca's memories are still in here, this will find them.”

The screen comes to life, showing a loading page, letting all of you know that soon Cadogan will have exactly what he wants. Doucette looks at it with a smile and muses, “Now we can start the Last War.”

“It's working.”

But as everyone watches the percentage bar get closer and closer to the end, your eyes shift to Gabriel, confused as to why he’s helping Cadogan, only to find that his entire demeanor has changed. He now looks conflicted, his eyes locked on an empty spot at Cadogan’s side, and he suddenly whispers, “We are. I’m sorry.”

Everyone looks towards him in confusion, not understanding who he’s talking to given the silence in the room, when he suddenly pulls out a gun from his waistband and aims it at the Flame, pulling the trigger and blowing it to pieces before you can even make sense of his movements. You all look towards him in shock as he turns the gun on Cadogan, aiming it at the shocked man before he yells to the disciples around the room, “Helmets off and weapons down, all of you, right now!”

They comply, worried about the risk of losing their Shepherd, and as they disarm and remove their helmets, Gabriel reaches a hand out towards Jackson. “Antitoxin.”

The pieces slide into place as you realize he must have been seeing Josephine, talking to her, until he remembered that she had never been a good voice of reason. As Gabriel takes the antitoxin, Bellamy steps closer to him, trying to plead with him. “Gabriel, we need him to get our friends back, your friends... Echo and Hope too. Now put down the gun.”

Gabriel doesn't waver, his gun still trained on Cadogan, but out of the corner of your eye, you see Doucette growing antsy, eyes darting between Gabriel and his leader. The man makes a split second decision and yells, “Take him!” as he runs at Gabriel. But he makes it less than three steps before a gunshot rings out and Doucette lets out a cry of pain, blood blooming across his white robes. You turn to look in the direction the shot came from, unsurprised to find your twin holding a gun, clearly the one that took Doucette down.

Gabriel nods at her in thanks as Bellamy lets out a loud cry, running towards Doucette and putting his hand over the man’s chest wound. “No! No!”

You feel a rush of pity for him as he loses his friend, but you feel nothing for Doucette himself, unconcerned with his death. Clarke calls your name, and you turn towards her, catching the gun she tosses your way. You immediately turn it on Cadogan, ready to take him out if you need to. Clarke grabs a second gun for herself before turning to Raven. “Raven, fire up the stone. We need to get to our friends.”

Raven pulls a helmet on her head and pulls up the map, calling out to Cadogan, “Which planet? Where are they?”

He looks at her with a smug smile, “It's offline. Only I know the code.”

“He's telling the truth.” Raven pulls the helmet off her head and turns to look at Clarke. “There's one planet we can't get to.”

Pissed, Clarke lifts her gun and turns it on Cadogan, three guns now trained on him. “Enter the code, and you get to live.”

He only hesitates for a second before he moves over to the stone and begins entering the code. When he’s done, a bright green glow erupts in the room, shining over all of you, and Cadogan motions towards it. “There’s your bridge. Go.”

Clarke shakes her head, “You're coming with us, now move.”

Bellamy stands, moving towards Cadogan and Clarke, clearly prepared to go with all of you, but Clarke turns to glare at Bellamy, her voice angry as she snaps, “Not you! You've made your choice.”

You turn to look at her, already prepared to protest. “Clarke-”

“No, la lune. He chose them. He chose Cadogan.”

You hesitate, turning to look at your fiance, and Murphy calls out, “I really hope this new thing you believe in is worth it.”

Bellamy gives him a resolute nod when he answers, “It is.”

The words hit you like a shot to the chest, because even now, at the threat of being left behind by all of you, he still chooses Cadogan. You turn to Clarke, heartbreak evident on your face, silently asking to say your goodbyes. She nods, keeping her weapon trained on Cadogan, allowing you to lower your own. All around you, your friends walk past you, stepping into the green glow at your back. The green glow that you desperately tried to reach to save the man in front of you. The man that now stands in front of you, still on the other side. And everything feels like it’s crashing down around you as you realize that the man in front of you is no longer the man you love. No longer the man that loves you. He’s nothing more than a stranger, your enemy, and his conflicted feelings won't change that.

He gives you a soft look as you close the space between the two of you, your hand already reaching for the ring on your left hand. As you slide it off your finger, you hold it up to him. “When you gave me this ring, you told me that I meant everything to you. You told me that you want to protect me and love me until your last breath. But the man that said those words to me while we were tied up in that cave is gone. The man that’s in front of me now has been willing to torture his best friend, watch his fiance walk around restrained, and his sister be sent to an unknown planet, all without a word of disagreement.”

You reach out and grab his hand, pressing the ring into his palm. “I wish I knew what you went through on Etherea, and I wish I understood why you seem so determined to follow Cadogan. But Bellamy, even if he’s right, even if Transcendence is real, Cadogan should not be the one to deliver us to it. That man is a monster, and we’ve known it since we were on Earth. None of what he’s done is okay, and by following him, you’re condoning his actions. By following him, you’ve become someone I don’t even recognize.”

It feels like your heart is ripping in half as you say the words to him, and it must hurt Bellamy just as much, because you see tears spring to his eyes. You ignore them, pushing past his hurt and reminding yourself of your own hurt, your own anger, not allowing yourself to be swayed by his tears. “I guess Bellamy Blake really did die the day that grenade went off in the Stone Room, because the man that came through the Anomaly from Etherea is not him, is it, Disciple Blake?”

You practically spit the last two words, ignoring the tears that are now spilling down his face and your own. “So much for this lifetime and the next. So much for forever.”

His expression morphs into one of complete heartbreak, and you abruptly turn away from him, unable to stomach the look on his face. Your eyes fall on Clarke, and she nods, encouraging you, letting you know this is the right thing to do. As you move closer to your twin, she reaches out for you, grabbing your free hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. Indra grabs Cadogan and pushes him towards the Anomaly, you and Clarke right behind them. And when you are mere inches away from stepping inside of the green glow, you turn to get one last look at Bellamy, which stops you in your tracks.

Because he now stands near the bone throne, something held in his hands, flipped open to a random page.

Madi’s sketchbook.

And though you don't quite understand the importance of what’s in the sketchbook, you follow Clarke as she pulls you away from the Anomaly and back into the room, calling out to your former fiance, “Belomi... Kof em op gon ai.”

Bellamy, give it to me. Bellamy looks over at her, as the disciples in the room turn towards you, starting to close in. You and Clarke drop each other’s hands and lift your guns, leaving you to turn slightly to your left, away from Bellamy. When Bellamy doesn't close the sketchbook or pass it over, Clarke’s voice gets harder and she snaps, “Kom nau, o ai na rip emo klin. Yu get klin ha e'na bilaik.”

Now, I'll kill them all. You know I will. Bellamy finally turns away from the book, moving his teary eyed gaze towards the two of you. “Madi isn't in danger, I'll make sure of that. I’ll keep her safe.”

“Du na frag em op na gada in chit bilaik emo gaf in, en yu foshou get em klin. Ai nou na teik em na gon daun.”

They will kill her to get what they want, and you know it. I won't let that happen. Bellamy looks at her, tears welling up in his eyes as he shakes his head, his voice cracking with emotion. “I am trying to save us all, Clarke!”

“I'll kill Cadogan. Is that what you want?” He shakes his head, and she raises her voice, “Kof em op gon ai!”

Give it to me! As soon as the words leave her mouth, one of the disciples near you starts to run your way, clearly intending to take one or both of you out. You pull the trigger before he makes it halfway, his body hitting the floor as you turn to look at Bellamy with anxiety. “Give her the damn book, Bellamy!”

He looks at you, his expression pleading, “This is bigger than any of us!”

You turn towards him slightly, locking eyes with him. “We already made Madi a pawn once when we made her the Commander, and I won’t do that to her again! Not after everything she went through with Sheidheda.”

“I’ll keep her safe, but this is important!”

You cut your eyes at Bellamy, shaking your restraints. “What, like you kept me safe?”

You see a look of hurt pass over his face, but you look away when one of the men to your left starts to shift, inching closer, and you step towards him, aiming your gun right at his chest, daring him to make a move. As you do, you can hear Clarke beside you, teary eyed and pleading, “Don't make me do this.”

“You're not gonna shoot me, Clarke.”

You turn to look at her as he says that, noticing that she has now moved her gun from the disciples around her to the man that you still love. Your voice is a soft warning when you whisper, “Clarke, don’t.”

Bellamy nods to the Anomaly behind you, “The bridge will close, you should go.”

“Not without that book.”

Bellamy starts to cry as he looks between you and Clarke, trying to reason with her. “Look at yourself, what you feel right now, the need to protect someone you love so badly you're willing to kill your closest friend, someone you trust, who's telling you that the fate of the entire human race is at stake. All that suffering can end. Madi's suffering too. I have no choice but to share this.”

You and Clarke are both crying now, though you suspect it’s for different reasons. Your anxiety is sky high, squeezing your body and making it feel like your heart is going to burst from your chest. Clarke stares at Bellamy, her voice shaking when she mutters, “I can't let them hurt her.”

“This is how we do better.” He tries to appeal to her using Monty’s words, but they only make her angrier, if anything. He shifts, reaching out to hand the sketchbook to the disciple closest to him. “This is the only way, I'm sorry.”

“Me too.” And as soon as she says it, you’re diving towards Clarke, the words triggering your fight response. You watch her finger pull the trigger as your hands shove against her arms, trying to stop her, and when the gunshot rings out, you swear you feel it rip through your own heart. You can hear it hit Bellamy’s body, and you turn towards him, the gun dropping from your hand as you watch red blood spread across the chest of his white robes at an alarming pace, his body falling towards the floor. You hear a scream, ungodly loud, broken and wailing, your brain unaware that it’s coming from you.

Three more shots ring out but your brain doesn't process it, too busy trying to tell your feet to move. You move closer to him, ignoring Clarke’s voice that is screaming your name, ignoring the disciple that is running towards you, your only focus on Bellamy, and the blood all over his clothes, his body, on the floor. You feel arms wrap around your waist, and Clarke yells in your ear, pulling you backwards, towards the disappearing Anomaly and away from Bellamy. You fight her hard, kicking and screaming and scratching at her the best you can, but she is resolute, determined to get you off of Sanctum, dragging you back into the Anomaly with every ounce of strength she can muster.

You scream again, repeating Bellamy's name like a mantra, watching as he disappears from view, the Anomaly closing around you. You don't stop fighting the entire time you’re in the green glow, trying to process why Clarke would do that, why Clarke would shoot Bellamy. He may be your enemy, he may be on the wrong side of things, but you love him. You may have given him the ring back, but you didn't mean it, oh god you didn't mean it. You just wanted it to be a wake up call to him, a way for him to see the error of his ways. But now Bellamy is dying, bleeding out on the floor, alone, thinking that you don't love him.

Bellamy Blake is dying alone, thinking that no one loves him.

The thought tears your chest open, cracks your heart into pieces as you cry harder, thinking of the blood, all that blood around him. All over his robes and dripping out of his mouth, filling up his lungs and killing him. No one at his side to put pressure on his wounds, or say the Traveler's Blessing, or to just be there for him.

He thinks his sister on another planet hates him, and his best friend who shot him hates him, and his former fiance who gave him back the ring hates him. All his friends and the people that he calls family, angry and hating him. Leaving him to die alone with no one at his side. You thought it was bad enough to see him die in security footage on Bardo. But to see him shot in front of you, by your own twin, your other half, it’s enough to destroy you.

And as Clarke holds you in her arms, sobbing apologies in your ear, you can only think of her one way. Now, she’s just Wanheda.

The Commander of Death, killing everyone in her way, even the man you love.

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#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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