#Even if that means he’s swimming in the ocean in his combat boots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-greatest-magic-of-all · 6 months

Note

1N (canon whump) for fabriz, if you want? :)

I do very much want, I do!

This is a bit of a UA (Universal Alteration) scenario where Whitclaw's crew found Fabian after he was thrown into the sea. Hope you enjoy it!

Send in your writing requests!

CW: vomiting, descriptions of injuries + illness + aftermath of torture

Fabian’s forearms and knees were surely bruised from the fall when the imps that plucked him out of the sea dropped him onto one of Leviathan’s lower decks. The pain from them was dull and throbbing. Using what little strength he had left, he propped himself up on his hands. His palms were still tender and red from the rope burn he got from escaping death for the first time tonight.

Any of the hacking coughs and throaty retches he made as he tried to expel any of the seawater he’d swallowed or inhaled were all drowned out by the roar of crashing waves. It was all he could taste and smell, too. Heavier than freshwater, brine and fish overwhelmed his every sense. For a few long instants, Fabian feared he’d never rid himself of them. That he’d forever be stuck under those waves. Swimming for his life, ignoring how the merciless ocean tossed and threw him and how his muscles screamed and ached.

But he was safe now. As safe as anyone could be in a pirate city.

Umberlee below, he was pathetic. Leviathan was supposed to be his city. His home turf. Nothing and no one should’ve been able to touch him here, let alone threaten him in any way. He’s sure his father had never felt this way, frail and humiliated. Not on Leviathan, not anywhere.

A tiny flicker of bitterness reared its head amongst the gloom and exhaustion, the point of its sword aimed inward. How could Fabian even call himself Captain Bill Seacaster’s son after a night like this? How could he call himself a champion fighter? An adventurer even? He was supposed to be good at all of this. At swordplay and combat. At holding his own within his adventuring party. At being someone impressive and exceptional. But right now, all he could be was weary and nauseous. Who even was he without all that?

…Well, he certainly wasn’t a Seacaster.

The bitterness turned irate for a moment as the weight of his soaked letterman jacket and the chafing of his father’s eyepatch became too much to bear. With a surge of energy fueled by inner loathing and hatred, Fabian ripped both of them off. Flinging the jacket to the side and shoving the eyepatch into his pocket. Almost immediately, he wrapped his arms around himself as shivers began to rack his frame. The chilly night air now had no barriers to his bare skin.

Huddled in a crumpled pile on the ground, he didn’t notice the approaching footsteps. He was far too consumed by cruel thoughts, the waves of nausea that crashed over him, and the beginnings of wheeze in his chest to notice. No, it was far too late when he finally raised his head, his eye hazy and heavy, and saw a group of familiar pirates. Captain Whitclaw’s men.

Fabian wanted to have a witty, snarky comment to throw at them, but his mind was foggy and his lips were too slow. All he could do was cough up greenish-yellow bile onto the lead pirate’s boot.

Barely perceiving the reaction to his slight, Fabian flinched as a clammy hand grabbed his chin. Forcing him to look up at its owner. An older, suntanned human man with a black bandana wrapped around his greying blonde hair sneered at him. Revealing a few golden teeth before he spoke in a gravelly, grating tone.

“Dear old Captain Whitclaw is on his way to the Ramble, but I think he’ll appreciate finding you in his brig after all is said and done. The first gift of his glorious reign.” The pirate said, tightening his grip on Fabian’s chin and moving it this way and that to get a good look at him. “Heh, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t have some fun with the son of Captain Bill, right fellas?”

The sounds of the rest of James’ crew cheering and jeering overpowered the crashing of the waves.

Chained and bound, the pirates dragged him back to the Crimson Claw. Uncaring and even delighted when he threw up on himself along the way or when his coughing fits would end in a desperate, shuttering gasp for air. As soon as they strung him up by his wrists in its brig, the strain on his shoulders and arms was immediately clear.

Surrounded by cruel grins, ravenous eyes, and hands full of blades, belaying pins, and brass knuckles, Fabian couldn’t help but wonder if he’d died under those waves and gone straight to Hell.

Riz’s heart pounded in his chest as he rushed through the winding, haphazard streets of Leviathan. Searching for a missing Fabian. Kalina had promised to save him and though he had accidentally sold out Lydia Barkrock, a shameful part of him thought that it’d been worth it. But only if Kalina kept her word and it was looking more and more like he’d been duped.

Sure, they’d found his letterman jacket discarded near the edge of one of Leviathan’s countless docks. But it might’ve been a trick. They still didn’t know everything Kalina could do. Maybe she had her lackeys steal Fabian’s jacket and place it there to keep them searching in the city while Fabian drowned out in the sea. All alone. Cathilda had calmed his worrying (without disparaging his paranoid tendencies which he appreciated.) with a warm hand on his shoulders and some reassuring words. They were going to find him. He was going to find him.

Dashing through shadowy alleyways, Riz almost missed an idle conversation between two matronly pirates. Chatting as they washed their laundry. One of their husbands had seen some of the crew of the Crimson Claw haul of wretched-looking, young half-elf onto their ship.

Riz didn’t think about subtlety or how to persuasion as he burst out of his hiding spot and said, “Which ship?!”

The piratical woman gasped, rearing back from the street corner Riz popped out from, his eyes wide and wild. Instinctively, their hands reaching for the pistols slung on their hips.

“What’s it to you, Goblin?” The reedy one asked with a scowl.

Riz held up his hands and shrunk back a step. “Please, the half-elf you were talking about is my best friend. Where’s the Crimson Claw? I need to find him.”

The two pirates looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them before the plumper one pointed down a streetway. “Should be docked not too far from here, lad. Look for an all-black ship with a blood-red flag, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you!” Riz shouted over his shoulder at them as he took off in the direction she’d given. He didn’t even care to attempt to be stealthy at this point. All that mattered was getting to Fabian as quickly as possible. If that fucking squid had harmed a single hair on his head, he’d eat him whole.

Barrelling down the streets of Leviathan, Riz bumped into countless other people. Getting cursed at with swears he’d never heard of before. Soon, though, as the sun rose over the horizon, he neared another set of docks and thanked the gods that that pirate lady was right. The Crimson Claw was hard to miss.

Huge and imposing, it loomed over the rest of the ships tied up beside it. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Seacaster Manor and its many rooms and expansive floors. Even more than a year into knowing Fabian and spending so many afternoons, evenings, and nights there, he could still get lost in a wing he’d never seen before.

Fabian was in there somewhere. Logic told him to wait and try to signal his friends and companions to his location. Not putting himself in unnecessary danger that could very well kill him. But, for once, his heart took the lead and began to move his feet faster than his brain could think and sent him into the Crimson Claw.

Luckily enough for him, it seemed like most of James’ crew was out with him. Making it easier for him to sneak up the gangway, across the deck, and down into the lower decks. Passing by crew quarters and so many barrels of ale, he managed to find several dead ends and once back up to the upper deck before he found the brig.

Riz’s heart, the thing that’d been guiding him, urging him this whole time to find Fabian as quickly as possible because if he didn’t then it might give out, it stopped.

He couldn’t take in all of the injuries at once. They seemed to be increasing with each passing second. Noticing more and more. Until he couldn’t see anything because his eyes were blurred with tears.

Head hung low and dripping blood onto the floorboards, Fabian hung lifelessly from the ceiling of the cell by his swollen, red wrists. His straining arms were covered in bruise after bruise and his tank top was sliced in several places and soaked in blood. Worse yet, a lone dagger was still stabbed into his left thigh. Riz had thought only a few hours early that there would never be anything worse than seeing Fabian strung up in those ropes, half-dead, but this was worse.

This was so much worse.

Wiping those tears away before they could fall down his cheeks, Riz pulled out his lock-picking kit and got to work unlocking the cell. Any finesse was mostly forgotten in favour of brute forcing it. Because how could he be deft and delicate in a moment like this? He’d scarcely heard the clank of the lock unlocking before he yanked the cell door open and rushed over to a stool to drag in front of Fabian. Allowing him to reach high enough to press a keen ear to his chest and hear his heart faintly beat.

Whew. Okay. okay.

He did it. He found him. He found him and it’s all going to be okay.

“Fabian?” Riz said softly as he cupped Fabian’s face and lifted it to meet his gaze. He gasped. Fabian was almost unrecognizable underneath so many bruises, a broken nose, and a swollen eye. Of which slowly blinked as open as it could at the sound of Riz’s voice, only for it to squint at him in confusion.

Fabian went to speak but at first, all that came out was a glob of blood and bile that ran down his chin followed by a series of wheezy coughs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t strain yourself.” Riz said in a gentle coo. More than happy to wait it out until Fabian’s body somewhat agreed with him again.

“R’z?” Fabian asked after a couple of shallow breaths, his voice weak and hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you. Duh.” Riz answered as he took a small step back to inspect the manacle situation from his angle down below. Just like the cell door, they didn’t look too hard to get through. Maybe James should invest in better shackles and locks. Not that it’d make a difference to Riz, he’d get through ‘em anyway.

“No.”

That word pulled him out of his roguish investigation mode entirely. Riz looked up at Fabian who was shaking his head at him and narrowed his eyes and echoed, “No?”

“It’s not safe—they’ll find you—I can’t… I can’t protect you.” Fabian said, building up all of his energy into trying to convince Riz until even that was too much for him and his body went slack and all he could do was whimper. “Go. Leave me here.”

Well, now that wouldn’t do.

“No!” Riz said, his tone probably too harsh, but he didn’t care. Not when Fabian was proposing that he leave him here because the going is a bit tough. As if there was a universe where he’d do that. “Are you stupid? And what? Let you die here?”

“I don’t want anyone else to die on my account today. Especially you.” He said, lifting his head to look Riz in the eye. “Please, the rest of the Bad Kids need you—”

Riz grabbed Fabian’s face again, pulled it close, and said with a crack in his voice, “Yeah, and I need you, you fucking idiot.”

“No, you don’t,” Fabian chuckled weakly. “When have you ever truly needed me?”

“Every day. You’re my best friend in the whole entire world. I need you every day.”

Another soft chuckle fell from Fabian’s lips, but this time it was accompanied by a small smile. “I think I need you too.”

“Good. Because I’ll always be there.” Riz said, his words ringing out in this little space and into the wider multiverse, as hallowed and true as a paladin’s oath. He would always be there for Fabian, until the day he died. There just was no other way for the world to be. “Now, shut up and let’s get you out of here.”

The process of sneaking a staggering, fatigued Fabian out of the Crimson Claw was a slow and arduous one. Believing that slow and steady would win them their freedom, they crept across the lower decks. Hiding as well as they could when a pirate was coming their way. Lurking in the shadows until it was safe to start inching their way out once more. There were a couple of close calls. When Fabian would stumble and fall to the ground with a loud thump or when Riz would misjudge a pirate’s gate and almost reveal themselves too soon. But after almost an hour, they emerged onto the upper deck and into the early morning light unseen by anyone save a few scurrying rats.

Riz’s back and shoulders ached from holding up most of Fabian’s weight for so long, but he pushed through it. Gritting his teeth until they’d gotten far enough away from the docks to satisfy his worry. Ducking into the shadowiest alleyway between two ramshackle buildings, Riz guided Fabian to sit against one of the walls before collapsing beside him. He rolled out all the parts of him that hurt the best he could and tried to steady his heaving chest. They’d done it. They were out. And with the crew of the Crimson Claw none the wiser.

The whole world got a bit slower and a bit clearer in these small moments, now that his mind wasn't overcome with anxious thoughts of “Where’s Fabian?” or “How do we get out of this alive?”, his ears picked up the wheeze in Fabian’s chest. The shallow breathing. The shakes and shivers despite the morning sun beating down on them. Scrambling to his knees, Riz pressed a hand to Fabian’s forehead and felt an intense heat radiate out from it. A fever. Oh no. Fabian was—A shaking, rope-burned hand pressed itself into the middle of Riz’s chest before pushing him away with a surprising amount of force. Seconds away from complaining, Riz could only watch as Fabian turned away from him to wretch until he threw up what little he must’ve had in his stomach.

Wiping his mouth with the flat of his wrist, Fabian stayed silent, for a few long moments before he turned back to Riz, looking beaten like a dog. Soft and shuttering, he said, “Riz, I don’t feel so good.”, before slumping into Riz’s chest.

Which was awkward and heavy because of their height difference, but Riz didn’t care. He welcomed Fabian into his arms and held him as tight as he could, wrapping his tail around him for good measure. No one would ever hurt him again. Not the Nightmare King. Not Kalina. And definitely not James fucking Whitclaw.

Riz wouldn’t fuck up this time and let Fabian slip through his claws and be taken from him. Not again.

Not ever.

Whew! Hopefully, that was whumpy enough for you. I hope you enjoyed reading this and if anyone else has a writing request for me the OG post is here! I'd love to hear from you!

#fabriz #fabian seacaster #riz gukgak #fanfic #d20 fic #whump #tw vomit #tw injury #tw illness #my boysss!!! i've hurt my boyss!!#it's okay because it's an excuse for them to cuddle #send me a number and a letter!! let me write for you!!

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 1 year

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Name: Joseph Melissa

Nicknames: Joe, Jo-Jo, Punk, Octo-Punk, (all by his friends), Weirdo, freak, Emo, Creep (outsiders and step-mother)

Birthday: November 17th

Age: 20

Height: 6'4

Gender: Nonbinary (he/they)

Appearance: Joseph has a stern honestly very intimidating scary face that is usually bruised or bleeding from fights, pale skin and big round ocean dark blue grey eyes, long wavy pale blonde hair with purple dyes and high lights usually done in a pony tale, big build in muscular with rough edges and firm abs, he has a naval piercing, and a very special thing he has are slightly sharer teeth from history of braces and fights

Clothes: He's usually dressed in simple not so flashy outfits that don't get in the way when he's working or fighting, usually tank tops and button ups with a simple pair of jeans ripped and not ripped, and a leather black bomber jacket gifted from his mom, and always wear combat boots or water boots

Personality: He's very tough in the outside and is what Jac calls a "jaw-breaker" where you have to really try hard to get him to chill out or laugh at a joke or even smile, often cold or scary looking, but as his friends know he's very much a loyal softie who likes children and animals and will do that thing when he tries to pick something up and forget his has long legs and so he kicks the item away from each time but repeats

Schooling: 2nd Year of Collage, Marine Science major

Likes: His friends, playing the cello, playing the piano, ocean waves, the beach, lo-fi, poems, Edgar Alan Poe, cupcakes, brownies, working out, the gym, McDonalds, Pop-Rocks, Pepsi and Orange soda, kids, reading, the feeling of someone hugging him close, romance (that's a big ass secret only Charles knows), rock music, alt rock, Hot Topic, octopus, squids, sea turtles, honest people, coffee, iced coffee, lemonade, the smell of blankets out the wash fresh, Cavetown, Conan Gray, Paramore, sea shells, random things no one else would enjoy, video games, vintage things, Polaroids, swimming, smoking weed

Dislikes: His dad and step-mom, missing a work-out day, pollution and littering of the ocean or the beach, liars, cheaters, thieves, loud annoying people, annoying people, homophobes, those who start a fight with him and then claim he started it, his family's titles

Abilities: Cooking, left things, fighter, fast runner, fast swimmer, singing is good, great with kids and babysitting

Story: Joseph was a only child within the Melissa house hold full of love and care by his family. His dad was usually working for long hours and so he grew very attached to his mother who gifted him her old high school leather bomber jacket for his 7th birthday.

One day when he was 13 his mother had passed away in a boating accident he was in as well, leaving him with terrible survivor's guilt. It didn't help his father didn't comfort him in the grieving process and after four months since her death moved a much younger woman into the home who later on became his step-mother. Heart broken and torn apart by this change of life Joseph wished to be free from the pain and during a walk on the beach decided to try and take his life, only to be stopped by a young Charles. Since then the two never grew apart as best friends. Joseph began working out and being his self now by this time to try and be strong enough to protect those he love, making his distaste of his father and his step-mother easy to be seen by all even strangers and would sleep at Charles' place.

Currently he attends college with his friends while helping Janice's dad's tackle shop/diner

Name Meanings: Joseph - Hebrew for "God will give" Melissa - Greek for "bee"

#disney villain recruiters #disney villain recruiter au #joseph melissa #eight foot joe

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one-desperate-duros · 2 years

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*Shriv nuzzles himself more thoroughly into @a-big-hat at his short-lived, affectionate rumbling. He still feels shy and embarrassed with the more or less naked women roaming around. On top of that, he is still in turmoil at learning of Bane's killing spree at the Imperial Base. His inconsistent mannerisms aren't helping, making it so that Shriv feels like crying again, though he manages to tamp it down.

About that time, @man-with-a-big-cape strolls along behind @freelance-combat-medic, patting Shriv on the shoulder. He comments that he looks better now than he did before the bacta session. That makes Shriv worry. He doesn't feel very put together at the moment, and can only imagine what he must have looked like before this for Lando to say something like that.

'Maker, must have looked like real shit, Shriv.'

'Nothing new, I guess.'*

Thankss, *he mutters unsurely, being nudged somewhat out of the way as Bane retrieves the fruit he means to give away, at the same time having placed his free hand along Suurgav's waist.

Shriv sighs, not wanting to budge from this spot. He takes into account that no matter what Bane has said about himself, here he is making a kind gesture, even to the woman he had hours earlier threatened to kill at the end of his blaster, and as she is making more smart-aleck comments, no less. This further confounds him, though he is somewhat relieved. All Bane's talk had been so asinine! Is he really such a bad Duros?

The HoloNet said so, the datalogues said so, all those bounties on his head said so, and even Lando and Bane himself. He is notorious. Still, that didn't mean he didn't have a heart or a considerate bone in his body, did it? He is being nice right now, though had Shriv called him on it, he is sure he would get less than a pleased reaction.

'Some of the best people are assholes, remember? The Princess said so herself.'

'She would know. Han's rough around the edges, even though he means well.'

Shriv snaps out of his daydreaming, Bane relaying they still have time to take a dip, though in the next moment Bane lets go, yet he doesn't move away. It only makes Shriv want to cling to him more tightly, but he refrains. He peeks from behind the other Duros, watching Calrissian stroll off towards the Lady Luck, leaving the two of them alone with @crazytookalady as he sighs about duties being duties, and wishing they could just stay here.

It felt like they had just arrived. If anything, Shriv is going to go swimming if it kills him, which he doesn't know what could be lurking in these waters, though there is only one way to find out.*

Yeah, I do wanna, actually, *he says with more attitude than he had meant to, wandering away from Bane and towards the shoreline as he follows after Rose, though he keeps his eyes downcast and averted towards the sand until she is in the water.

He clumsily begins removing his weaponry, followed by his boots, teetering on one foot until he can get each one off in turn. He removes his jacket first, then his shirt beneath, leaving him bare-chested. He bites his lip, but thinks it shouldn't matter he's getting down to his undershorts again, though he for sure refuses to take them off, towel or not.*

You coming, Kil- Cad? *he asks sheepishly, catching himself before using that awful nickname.

Without another word or thought he removes the trousers, too. He enters the ocean slowly, testing the temperature. It's nearly perfect, and Shriv was starting to feel hot, anyway. He gingerly slips in the rest of the way, allowing himself to be submerged up to his shoulders. He makes sure Rose sees him coming before he bashfully approaches, deciding maybe he should just try to forget his troubles and make conversation for once, if he is even capable, focusing his gaze on the waves themselves, still trying to be polite.*

I can get your clothes for you, if you want. I know he can be a grump, and maybe he's not so fun to be around sometimes, but he promised me he wouldn't kill you, so there's ... that, and I'm not exactly chipper myself.

Be-besides, I believe him, *he whispers, almost to himself.*

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cottoncandyreaper · 2 years

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New characters?? Yes...Yes I think I will

Gabe(Gabriella)

24(June 18th)

5'4"

Shoulder length auburn dyed hair(originally blond), Golden brown eyes, light freckles across cheeks, ring lip piercing, wears glasses(contacts on special occasions), comfy clothes only~leggings and soft t-shirts~

*hates showing to much skin

Gabe is a genderfluid asexual werewolf that has deemed pack life to much thus does not associate with any pack within the radius of town and the woods(close to 30 miles). Working, living on their own and handling the world as best as possible given that without a pack...Gabe left herself to deal with many wolf ordeals alone.

When shifted, Gabe's wolf form is a warm caramel with shading mixed delicately of the dyed auburn she had done herself. Golden brown eyes become strictly gold.

Gabe is stubborn, set in her ways only thanks to a fear of change. She often refuses help of any kind but the moment someone needs assistance she's the first to jump in and help in anyway she can.

~loves all kinds of music, mainly rock

~nests, blankets and pillows on her bed for dayyyys

~often found with headphones in so not to be spoken too

~favorite colors are burgundy + royal blue

Ashton

25(December 4th)

5'7

Black hair cut in a fade;top part slightly longer then normal fades, light brown eyes, scar over left eyebrow, beauty marks side by side on throat, nose piercing, ears pierced and industrial on right ear. Enjoyer of skinny jeans and soft t-shirts, boots all the time, leather jacket in the winter, wears a ring his grandfather gave him on right thumb.

*hates swimming but loves long baths

Ashton is the pack leader of the west domain pack and the first trans man in any pack history. He was kicked out of his original pack where his family still resides for beating the alphas right hand man in combat when he was only 21. They had deemed him, *unacceptable* for a years years by then. The words stung of course but he found joy in knowing he was stronger then one of the top-members, even risks it to visit his parents too close to the pack land still as often as he can mamage. The pack Ashton created from the ground up is of other wolves banished or simply packless for other reasons. They are all very loyal to him and support his ways.

Ashton's wolf form is as black as his hair, eyes as bright as the ocean, though still slender Ashton packed on enough muscle to hold the alpha title even in wolf form.

Ashton is generally laid back but with a title comes responsibility and can shift attitudes when needed. Loves to tease and annoy the others if the chance ever raises.

~started hormone therapy when 15/top surgery when 21

~loves playing with kids

~mega fall out boy fan

~favorite colors are any shade of purple + greens

~The pair are moonlight mates, this meaning that unlike normal mates who find themselves on a normal day to day basis: Ashton and Gabe seem to form a connection through random run ins with the final connection forming on a full moon night. This is because as each random passing accures their wolves slowly yet naturally pull to each other in yearning which starts their time together officially.

#writers on tumblr #werewolves #trans character #asexual #genderfluid #they/she #they/he #i cant stop thinking about it #theyre so cute #i will love them so much #puppy love #i havent wrote werewolves in a long time

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years

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deep blue

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - hotch recruits you for a single case, a certain genius catches your eye

warnings - cursing, mentions of case

word count - ?

note - i’m not sure the true numbers but let’s asssume the acadamy program is anywhere from two to four years

one early morning at the bau, rossi stepped into hotch’s office. “have you seen the case?” the italian man asked. hotch nodded, “yes i have. do you think we need her?” rossi pondered for a quick minute.

“i mean she would be nothing but helpful,” rossi reasoned

grabbing his suit jacket, hotch stood up. “then let’s go, the team will brief when we get back.” with that, the two men exited the office much to the confusion of the team.

____

you practically grew up in the water.

as a kid, your family lived on the coast. swimming was something that came naturally and you were doing it even before you could remember. from age five to twenty-two, you did various swim teams outside and in school. in college, you had swam and broken records all while majoring in criminology. in the end, you decided to go into the fbi acadamy with your skill set.

four years in, you were just a few months away from graduating. however, you had no clue what team you would be recruited onto. you were top of your class with academics and your physical training which made you a good prospect.

you were currently swimming laps in the pool for some extra training. your instructor was sitting at one of the chairs, timing you. he looked up when two familiar agents entered the pool area. you didn’t stop swimming as you hadn’t even realized the two enter.

“agent hotchner, agent rossi,” your instructor greeted, shaking the hands of both.

the three turned towards the pool where you did your final push off of the wall on the far end. “excuse me,” your instructor spoke and leaned down by the wall, the stopwatch in hand. it didn’t take more than a few moments for you to press your hand against the wall and stop swimming.

you emerged from the water, removing your goggles and swim cap. after going under one more time to get your hair wet, you finally appeared and leaned against the wall. “how’d i do?” you asked, not completely aware of the other two agents.

“shaved off five seconds. i’m not sure why you keep wanting to break these acadamy records. you’re already in the top spot.”

you shrugged as a response before looking up at the two older men. “nice to see you again y/n,” rossi greeted. you nodded slightly before getting out of the pool and accepting a towel. once your arms were no longer wet, you shook the hands of hotch and rossi.

“so what brings you to the acadamy?” you asked as you continued to dry off. “we need your help with a case,” hotch revealed. you stopped your movements and furrowed your eyebrows. “my help? what for?” you responded.

“it’s a case in gulf shores, alabama. the unsub is using the ocean to dispose of his victims and all the divers in the city and surrounding area are on a retreat to california. we need someone with diving experience and the swimming ability to aid us,” hotch explained.

“alright, i just need ten minutes to shower, change, and then grab my bags,” you explained. “we’ll be waiting.”

you rushed into the locker rooms, rinsing your hair before using shampoo and conditioner to wash out the chlorine. you were done in record time with five minutes to spare. after changing into jeans, a tank top, your combat boots, and slipping on your oversized fbi windbreaker, you exited and went to grab your bag.

just as you said, you were meeting up with hotch and rossi ten minutes later. you had a go bag in hand and behind you was another with your diving equipment including a wet suit, flippers, and a mask. the three of you headed to the car and began your drive to the bau building.

walking in, hotch motioned for you to drop your bags in his office before following him into the conference room.

“everyone this is y/n y/l/n from the acadamy. she will be assisting us on this case,” hotch announced, “these are agents prentiss, morgan, j.j., and doctor reid. you already know rossi and that is our technical analyst penelope garcia.”

the team took in your appearance. it was hard not too, as they were profilers. you were pretty young, almost the same age as spencer. your hair was still soaking wet and you had the faint smell of chlorine on you. “wait, why do i recognize your name?” emily spoke up.

“well,” rossi started, “y/n currently holds the record for the women’s open swim competition as well as smashing the biathlon and triathlon times at the acadamy.” you blushed slightly, not used to all this attention. emily nodded, obviously realizing why she had known you.

“we can get to know y/n on the plane, let’s get started,” hotch said as he sat down.

garcia began to go over the details of the case, “three bodies have been found in the gulf of mexico over the past two days. what’s weird is that they were all killed around the same time and have markings that resemble shark bites. however, the medical examiner determined that they weren’t actually made from a shark. none of the victims knew each other either. plus, all divers are out of town. these bodies were found by chance.”

“the unsub has to know about the retreat. anyone could have stumbled on the bodies if he hadn’t,” you added.

after bouncing around possible theories, hotch told the team that it was thirty minutes before ‘wheels up’. you, however, were in hotch’s office, receiving your orders for the case.

“since you are still a cadet, you are not allowed to go anywhere alone. all orders must come from one of us,” hotch told you. it was pretty much just standard procedure.

meanwhile, the official agents of the team all sat around their desks in the bullpen. “so the new girl?” j.j. started. “she’s a killer athlete and her skills are really good,” derek added.

“what do you think reid?” emily asked.

spencer, who was reading some book, glanced up for a quick moment. “her record is impressive,” as he said this, his voice went up slightly on the last word. “oh my god,” garcia started, “you totally think she’s pretty!” spencer’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. the other agents were about to add something but hotch and you emerged from his office. “let’s head out,” he announced.

on the plane, the first ten or so minutes were spent going over the case details. “alright, i want reid, y/n, and morgan to all head down the the port. a boat is waiting to take you out to the dump sight. y/n i need you in the water seeing if anything useful is underwater. time is important and we need you there as quick as possible,” hotch ordered.

“should i get changed?” you questioned.

once seeing your superior nod, you grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom. it was honestly miracle that in the small airplane bathroom, you managed to change into a swimsuit and your full body wetsuit. after tossing your hair up into a messy bun, you slipped back on your shoes and made your way into the jet.

all eyes were on you as you sat back down in your seat next to spencer, now in a completely different outfit. “so y/n, what’s your life story?” emily asked. hotch and rossi were now sitting on the opposite side of the jet leaving you, j.j., derek, spencer, and emily to talk.

“well, i was raised on the coast and was pretty much swimming before i could talk fully. my parents always had me involved in different swimming groups during my childhood. i was on varsity swimming all four years of high school. i went to harvard for college, majoring in in criminology and swam for the school also. entered the acadamy after when i was 23,” you explained.

“i thought the acadamy training was only two years?” derek asked.

you shrugged and took a drink from your bottle of water, “i’m taking profiling courses and doing minor field work at the same time. it adds two years on to the program,” you responded. “so your what, 26? 27?” you cracked your knuckles, “i’m 27.”

“not much younger than pretty boy over here,” derek smirked, “so what do you do for fun?” you leaned back into your seat. “oh i’m a huge sci-fi nerd,” you smiled. spencer perked up as derek groaned. “what shows?” the genius asked.

“i mean star wars and star trek are my two favorite. i’m also a fan of doctor who but i haven’t watched it recently,” you explained.

emily, j.j., and derek all watched as you and spencer became engrossed in conversation about one of the shows. you two were talking incredibly fast and motioning rapidly with your hands. wide smiles were on both of your faces. the three other agents shared a look before going to sit in different seats.

upon arrival to the city, you, spencer, and morgan all headed down to the port. after greeting one of the police officers, you boarded the boat. you were shown a room where you could finish suiting up. the water where the body was dropped was pretty deep, meaning you would need to wear an oxygen tank.

“hey spencer!” you called, “can you come help me?” spencer walked out from the deck and into the room. “i need some help putting on the vest.” spencer grabbed the vest which would hold the tank. you held your arms out behind you as he slipped it on. the two of you were extremely close as spencer began to fasten and clip the buckles. you inhaled sharply and when you felt his hot breath on your neck.

“alright you’re good to go,” spencer spoke, still close to you.

you stepped back with a smile. after thanking on, you slipped on your boots and fins. the police officer helped put the tank on your back and connect it to your snorkel.

now, you sat on the edge of the boat, about to go under. “you ready?” morgan asked. you didn’t respond but instead leaned back so you fell off of the boat and into the water. spencer and morgan shared a quick look as they watched you disappear under the water.

minutes later, you emerged at the surface. in your hand was a necklace. derek held out a bag which you then placed the necklace in. after climbing onto the bout, spencer moved over to stand with you.

“do you need help again?”

you shook your head no. “i’m okay for now,” you spoke. as you walked away, spencer felt something be placed in the palm of his hand. he looked down to see a small polished shell, no doubt from you. he smiled softly before going to find morgan.

____

three days later, the team had identified the unsub.

the only issue was that his current whereabouts were unknown and he had another girl with him. however, an anonymous tip was sent to the police station that they saw a small boat go out in the ocean a few minutes ago.

one of the police boats was started and the team piled on. as quickly as you could, you got into your scuba gear just in case. this time, it was a much more modified version; only wearing a wetsuit and a snorkel mask. you didn’t think you would need it and you weren’t even due if you were going in the water or not.

it only took a few minutes for you to arrive at the location. just as you were in view, the unsub pushed the girl off the boat before jumping in himself. he pulled her down deep as a way to drown her. the unsub was clad in his own scuba gear, allowing for him to do so.

after hotch nodded towards you, you took off running before diving off the edge of the boat.

as you swam down the ocean, you looked around. suprisingly, the unsub wasn’t even in sight. it didn’t help that the water wasn’t exactly clear. however, you managed to spot the victim a few feet down. you grabbed her arm and pulled her to the surface.

the boat was a few yards away. using one arm, you propelled yourself through the water. morgan and hotch were already waiting by the ladder at the back part of the boat. after taking your mask off and tossing it on the deck, you helped the victim over to the ladder.

once she was lifted onto the boat, you started to climb up. but, a hand on your calf stopped you. you could barely react as you were pulled underwater, most of your oxygen being knocked out of you.

the water was extremely salty but you pried your eyes open and were met with the unsubs. you were at a disadvantage as he had a mask and you didn’t. if you tried to swim up, he would just drag you back down. so there was only one option, you needed to fight.

in ten seconds, you managed to rip the mask off. you were even deeper underwater now and you knew you couldn’t hold your breath underwater. with your strength, you managed to kick the unsub hard in the stomach. the unsubs eyes showed nothing but panic as water filled his mouth.

in a final effort to save yourself, you wrapped your arms around the unsub neck and started to strangle him. black spots crowded your vision as the unsub thrashed violently, creating bubbles around you. finally, he stopped moving.

you managed to swim to the surface, taking in as much oxygen as possible as you frantically looked around.

the police boat was now even further away. you knew the risks as water was still in your lungs and dry drowning was pretty much inevitable at this point. nonetheless, you dived back under and grabbed the unsubs now dead body. after bringing it to the top, you managed to make it over to the boat.

the team helped you back onto the boat. you rolled over so you were on your knees, pressing your forehead to the deck floor. you began coughing, directly due to the salt water the filled your lungs. your eyes screwed shut as you wrapped your arms around your stomach.

spencer kneeled down beside you, placing his hand on the small of your back. “post-immersion syndrome, known as dry drowning,” spencer informed everyone.

your chest grew tighter as you struggled to breathe. in the background, you heard hotch yelling to speed up. “match my breathing pattern okay. i need you to stay calm,” spencer whispered to you.

he rolled you over so you were sitting upright. a painful look was displayed in your face as the two of you made eye contact. your breathing matched his despite your cloudy vision. you struggled to your first and over to the side of the boat, immediately leaning over the rail to cough up the water from your lungs.

that’s all you remembered before you passed out.

waking up in the hospital meet hours later was less then fun. your lungs burned but thankfully, with the ventilator, you were breathing okay.

in the corner of the hospital room, you noticed spencer sitting with a book in his hand. you smiled weakly and moved your arm to get his attention, not trusting your voice at the moment.

“hey,” spencer spoke, moving to sit by your bedside.

you smiled softly. “i feel terrible,” spencer added. you shot him a questioning look. “i mean you almost drowned. i should have done something.”

“take me out to dinner and we’ll call it even,” you managed to get out despite the raspiness of your voice.

spencer grinning brightly, “i would love too.”

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia

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atmilliways · 3 years

Text

Dethentine’s Day 2

February 9th - In the Style of Disney/Studio Ghibli

Inspired by but not closely following The Little Mermaid. Charles is a merman, Nathan is a human, they... meet and stuff.

Blood Ocean

When it storms over the open sea, flashes of lightning illuminate the upper reaches of the depths in a pale facsimile of sunlight. It lasts for only an instant, and below the surface the sound of thunder feels like the impact of whale sonar. But when the lightning comes thick enough, it takes on the strobe effect of a stop-motion picture show.

A man falls into the water, followed by the downed mast of a wounded ship.

Impact.

The man is sinking faster than the debris around him, weighed down by his heavy boots and coat. He moves his limbs, but sluggishly. Too slow to make any difference, at the rate he's going.

Impact.

Tiny bubbles stream from the man’s mouth as he fights a losing battle to hold his breath. In the inky blackness below, just at the outside range of the storm’s light, something is beginning to dart upwards.

Impact.

The man is gone.

Charles doesn’t know what possessed him to do this. He hadn’t liked the Water God’s order to destroy any ships that ventured through their waters. That’s what the rest of the patrol are off doing, and tearing the throats out of any sailors trying to swim to safety besides—he can taste it in the water even at this distance.

But he swims on, balancing the necessity of speed with the difficulty of keeping an airtight seal between his mouth and the now-unconscious human’s, sharing oxygen and releasing the creature’s exhales through his gills. This one must have been smart enough to try and climb to safety, and fell with the mast when the ship finally capsized. If Charles hurries, he can throw the man up onto the nearest accessible bit of shore and race back before he’s missed.

The place he finds is rocky, but not so shallow that he can’t swim up to it or too steep that the human won’t be able to climb back to its people. Getting the man onto it takes some effort—he’s very broad, and overburdened with approximately the same amount of muscle as a blue whale. No wonder you nearly drowned, Charles thinks with an irritated frown, and gives one final heave—there, he’s up. Should be fine. The tide isn’t due to come in for another hour.

He prods him, just to make sure, with the heel of one hand. The human groans and coughs up sea water. Yeah, he’ll be just fine.

Suddenly a big hand closes around Charles’ wrist. “Hey,” the human he’s just rescued mumbles. “Hey, you . . . saved my life. . . .”

Charles feels his dorsal scales prickle in alarm. This isn’t good, the human wasn’t supposed to wake up. Humans aren’t supposed to know that merpeople exist, let alone go around thinking that they’re particularly friendly towards them. In spite of what Charles has just done, it wasn’t because he liked humans, it just . . . didn’t seem right, clawing holes in the bottoms of their ships as the Water God had ordered. It was like shooting birds in an air bubble.

“No, I didn’t,” he hisses, panicking and yanking his wrist free. “And, ah . . . don’t tell anyone about this!”

The surf is trying to push him past the rocks into tide pools but Charles kicks off hard, both hearts hammering and doesn’t slow down once he’s out over deeper water. He still feels a phantom of that hand on his wrist, and he doesn’t understand why any more than he knows why he saved the man in the first place.

He does not see the pale shape following at a distance.

It takes Nathan a while, but he does manage to make his way up the rocky incline. Doesn’t help that it’s February, and that between his already wet clothes and the rain he’s shaking almost too hard to stand by the time he reaches the nearest town, but still, he gets there.

No one believes him when he tries to explain how he survived the wreck.

He spends the next several days in bed, still shivering. From time to time he rambles about shapes in the water and being rescued by a man who had a tail in place of legs, and people are pretty nice about it but they clearly think he’s touched in the head. By the time the fever breaks even he isn’t sure if what he thinks he remembers is actually what happened.

Once he’s recovered enough to move on, Nathan decides to stay. It’s a nice enough town, and he’d been on that ship in the first place because he was leaving his parent’s home to find his place in the world. The town butcher needs an apprentice and has a room to rent above the butcher’s shop for cheap. He makes friends with the town drunk, who knows some guys who’re great on string instruments. They’re thinking of putting a band together. There are a lot of things that make hanging around worthwhile. . . . None of them are why he actually stays.

Every night, Nathan dreams of his mysterious rescuer. Of hazel eyes and a blur of skin and scales. Of a mouth on his, breathing life and a heavy taste of salt into him.

“‘Course ya dream about it,” Pickles tells him one night, when they’re both wasted past the point of Nathan being embarrassed talking about what might just be a vivid remnant of fever dream and possible head trauma. “Yer the sole survivor of that shipwreck, dood. If someone or something saved you, yer connected to it now. Gonna be until that debt is repaid. So, y’know, meybe that is why yer still here, yer all . . . connected to somethin’ by one’a those strings of fate or whatever.”

Nathan squints in conversation as he slowly absorbs this new idea. His hair falls across his face—it’s getting long, but it doesn’t bother him much so who knows when he’ll bother to cut it. “You mean like . . . an anchor?”

“Sure, either that’r survivor’s guilt.” Pickles shrugs, belches, and signals for the barman to bring them new pints. “I’d say it’s a fifty fifty chance that one’a those is true.”

That percolates in Nathan’s thoughts for a while, and in the meantime he finds himself picking his way back down to the rocky beach every day, rain or shine, and looking out across the water.

Where are you? Nathan wonders. What are you? It had spoken to him with the voice of a man, so it, he, obviously had some reason. Nathan wonders if he has a name, and if so, what it is.

He knows he’s obsessing. But if it’s fate or whatever, then what choice does he have?

Charles is going about his business, updating the abacai records for his patrol, when a great white behemoth of a merman crashes through the shell-curtain door of his office cave. Only a last minute dive saves him from being barreled into, but not before he gets a good look at the gnashing rows of teeth that belong to one of the Water God’s watchsharks. This one looks to be half Great White, and is wearing a misshapen piece of welded metal as a mask over the top half of his face.

Fuck. This is because of that damn human, he just knows it. He’d thought he’d been so careful, and in the days since nothing had happened, reinforcing his sense of relief. . . . until now.

The other merman has a crude knife, one of his own long teeth strapped to a handle with. After the first miss he turns—slowly, Charles notes—and lunges again.

Everyday patrol schools are usually only taught minimal hand-to-hand combat skills, focusing mainly on hunting outer ocean game, targeted destruction of ships, and techniques for drowning struggling humans. But Charles had mastered the latter skills years ago and had, out of boredom and perfectionism, made a thorough study of the former in his free time. It’s something his colleagues often tease him about.

Who’s laughing now?

He waits until the last second before darting to the right, counting on his own agility—and catches the arm with the knife, kicks into a spin, and pushes the razor-edged tooth into his attacker’s own side. The sand-rough skin scrapes at his palms, but if that puts any of his own blood in the water it’s definitely covered by the red gout billowing from the other merman, who Charles shoves ruthlessly into the wall before slipping out of the cave and swimming for his life.

Leaving as quick as a riptide, for Charles, isn’t simply a matter of skipping town. It’s not just that he left without any of his personal effects until all this blows over. He knows his absence will be quickly noticed, and that means goodbye career. Between that and the watchshark—who could be dead or could have survived, there’s no way to know now, but even a corpse would tell a damning story—it’s goodbye colony as well. If the Water God has it out for him, no one will dare to take him in, not in any colony. He’s completely alone.

Charles tries not to think about this, focusing instead on more immediate problems such as shelter and food. The further he gets from the colony’s heat vents, the colder the water becomes, so he’s forced to stick to the relative shallows along the coast, where there’s less chance of something spotting and ambushing him from below.

Where he’d left that human.

Somehow he proves harder to avoid thinking about than all the rest; when Charles floats awake at night in whatever new crevice he’s found to hole up in, he pictures the man’s face. Strong, stubborn jaw and high cheekbones. Heavy brow overshadowing eyes that are a deeper green than seaweed, with the dark depth of an ocean except without a trace of blue. Black hair that had streamed straight back during the hurried swim. Charles’ hand had brushed through it when first grabbing him and again when grappling to get him onto the rock, but out of the water it had clung to the man’s head and shoulders like an oil slick.

He can still feel where the man had grabbed his wrist, an indelible handprint. Sometimes he catches himself rubbing at it absently. Still has no idea what possessed him to save someone only to lose everything, but for some reason he can’t move past that blankness of not knowing into being angry about it—at himself, at the human, at anything, because it just feels so . . . inevitable. As though he’d had to do it, no choice in the matter.

This does not help him sleep, but eventually he does drift off.

In some underwater caves there are pockets of air that were trapped tens of thousands of years ago when the sea levels rose. They sit, without light or wind, and do not wait because they expect nothing.

But this one has light. This one has wind, and a smooth beach of solid rock against which Charles wakes, half out of the water. Using his lungs instead of his gills, which is more odd than uncomfortable. The air tastes clear and he smells the greenness of above-water plants. He has no idea how he got here; it’s definitely not where he fell asleep.

A human man stands above him. Not his human—Charles realizes he’s thought this an instant after doing so and feels his dorsal scales prickle—but an old man dressed in dark red and black robes.

Somehow the old man knows that Charles is alone, an outcast in hiding. He introduces himself as Ishnifus Meadle and offers a way to escape pursuit for good.

Naturally suspicious of both the offer and this whole set-up, Charles asks what the price is.

Ishnifus tells him.

Charles listens in dawning horror. It’s not the answer itself, but the scope of it; a coral outcrop that, upon further inspection, has formed an entire reef that he had until now mistaken for bedrock. Ishnifus knows things that no human should know. He knows things about Charles’ own life that no one could have possibly told him. Somehow it’s all connected, and the feeling of inevitability rises in Charles again like bile—but ultimately what Ishnifus is offering is an explanation.

“Do you accept?” Ishnifus asks in his whispery voice.

Impact.

Charles takes a deep breath, slides down the rock shore briefly to wet his gills one last time, and says, “Yes.”

Impact.

The merman is gone.

On his daily visit to the rocky beach, Nathan finally sees something. He makes his way carefully but as quickly as he can down to the edge of the water, where a figure is sprawled on one of the rocks. It is in fact, he realizes when he gets there, the same rock he’d found himself on after the shipwreck, unexplained miles from where the ship actually went down.

The naked figure is pale and hardly moving, cold and clammy to the touch, but Nathan helps him sit up because he recognizes him. Except for having legs instead of a tail, it’s the same mysterious hazel-eyed stranger who saved him from drowning.

“It’s you,” Nathan says stupidly. He hesitates, but the guy is so weak from cold that before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s got his shirt off, a paltry offering but it’s better than nothing. It drapes hugely from the man’s damp, smaller frame, but after getting it on him Nathan feels like he’s at least provided some protection from the cold sea breeze blowing in from across the water.

He scoops the man up—there’s something so weird about this, like their roles are reversed and how he has to stumble through the roll of rescuer like some sort of bumbling idiot with no experience in this sort of thing. But he manages to get them up the rocky incline and into town, into his room above the butcher’s shop without attracting anyone’s attention. Wraps the man in blankets and gets the kettle going until the bath is filled with steaming water. When the tub is full, Nathan turns back and sees the man struggling to unwrap himself, straining to get to the water on his own power.

“I can do it,” the man rasps as Nathan helps him, but it’s like watching a baby deer try to walk for the first time. This guy seems to have no control whatsoever over his shaking legs. But Nathan gets him stripped down again and into the hot bath, and he sinks into it with a sigh that borders on indecent.

Nathan doesn’t know what to do with his eyes. It’s just the one room, and there’s not much to it, so it’s kind of hard to ignore the naked dude in his tub. Plus, he’s already seen everything the guy’s got to offer while carrying him in. So he settles for sitting on the end of his bed, shirtless and holding his wet shirt, and just . . . staring. He watches the man in the tub carefully pull each limb into the water and then dip under the surface, completely submerged, and stay there for a full minute.

When he comes back up for air he uses the water streaming off him to slick his short hair back from his forehead and sits, nose just above the water to breathe, and stares at Nathan.

“You, uh,” Nathan starts awkwardly. “You had gills before. On your neck. Right? Or did I hallucinate that?”

The man in the tub doesn’t answer, just stares at him.

“What’s your name?” Nathan tries. “I’m Nathan.”

There’s a long pause, and then the man in the tub lifts his head just enough that his lower lip is out of the water. “Charles,” he says hoarsely, then coughs and dips down to sip from the tub.

“Shit, don’t—You don’t know what I’ve had to scrub in there, don’t drink that. Hang on.”

Nathan gets up and pulls on a shirt to go back out into the hall again, and returns with a glass of water. He hands it to Charles and watches him slowly try to sip from the middle of the glass.

“It’s, uh, you gotta put the edge to your mouth and tip it,” he offers, miming it.

Charles—fuck, it’s just so weird to finally have a name attached to the face, but a good weird, the reassuring Okay so I’m definitely not totally crazy after all kind of weird—gives him a skeptical look, but mimics the motion and successfully gulps the water down. Soon the glass is empty, and he hands it back.

They stare at each other.

“So, uh,” Nathan says, “you saved my life.”

“I did,” Charles replies. “And I, ah, think you might have just saved mine.”

For some reason, Nathan wants to deny this. Here he’s been, thinking about Charles literally every day for a while now, feeling at the very least like he owes him some sort of debt, then the minute he shows back up in his life they’re suddenly even again and that’s it? No. He shakes his head. “Nah, I just helped you get up the hill. You could’ve done that on your own.”

They stare at each other again. Nathan gets the distinct impression that they’re both fully aware that what he just said is all bullshit; Charles couldn’t even make it into the bath on his own.

Charles says, carefully, “In that case, I, ah . . . I could use a place to stay.”

“You got it,” Nathan replies instantly, and is he really offering to share his small room and small bed with some stranger who he’s pretty sure is an honest to god merman, an actual mythic sea creature, no questions asked?

. . . Yeah. Yeah, he is. He’s not totally sure why, but he really means it, too.

Charles is going about his business, updating the accounting book in the back of the butcher’s shop. Word has gotten around town that he’s good at this sort of thing; he’s due at the bakery first thing tomorrow morning to go through their books and make sure all the math is correct, and then in the afternoon the grocer wants him to perform an audit to make sure that none of the employees are stealing from the till. He actually much prefers this bloodless work to patrols.

But he still practices hand to hand combat in his free time. Now that he’s found his land-legs it seems even more important to maintain whatever physical prowess that he can in this dry, non-buoyant environment. Nathan is helping him get better at lifting weights, and they both benefit in their own ways from the bar fights Nathan and his friends get into and that Charles finishes.

At night, they share Nathan’s narrow bed. Charles is never cold anymore with Nathan there, although the man is strangely shy whenever he mentions this—some strange human hangup, he assumes, and doesn’t press the issue. He’s become unexpectedly fond of his human, more than fond if he’s really being honest with himself, but hasn’t yet learned the culturally appropriate way to act on this yet.

Sometimes when he’s waiting for sleep to come, or when the figures on the page and flowing from the nib of his ink pen become so tedious he needs to tear his eyes away to stare at nothing for a moment, he thinks about what Ishnifus told him before giving him this above-water life. He wonders if it’s for the best that Nathan remains oblivious to all of it, Charles’ feelings included.

There’s a storm coming, and Charles hopes that, if it comes to that, he’ll be able to save his human from drowning again.

#metalocalypse #dethentines 2021 #my fanfiction #narles #nathan explosion #charles foster offdensen #metalocalypse au #metalocalypse fanfic #pickles the drummer #mma #ishnifus meadle

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modern-vellichor · 4 years

Text

Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage Four: Depression

Warnings: Loss of a major character, depression, grief, suicidal thoughts.

Series Masterlist

Depression; feelings of severe despondency and dejection.

You ask Pepper for a few weeks off, she's more than happy to supply. She says you've worked to hard, you haven't had time to grieve. The others are going through it too, she says, she's seen Bucky crying on Sam's shoulder, Peter has come crying to her, Morgan can no longer sleep, she misses her dad. You have been grieving, just not like them, not in public. You are the piece of tape holding this team together, if you break now, so do they.

You tell Sam and Bucky that you're catching up on sleep, Peter is too scared to ask, and Thor, only god knows where he is.

You close all your curtains, your room is always dark and dim, always too warm, hot and heavy, humid. You wrap yourself in sweatpants and an old hoodie, Steve's old hoodie. It's far too big for you, comes down to your knees, the sleeves come past your hands. You curl up under your sheets, cocooning yourself away from a harsh and unfair reality.

The first few days, you cry. You scream and sob and shake, cries racking your body, your soul leaves through your tears. You scream into the nothingness until you can't cry any more, until your mouth is dry and your chest aches. You dampen your pillows, stain your sheets with mascara, you hug your knees to your chest. You breathe in his scent and you're thrown into a whirlwind of memories, happy memories, and it's like you can cry a million more tears, and you do.

"Y/N, baby, please", Steve cooed, his body wrapped around yours, his lips nipping at your ears.

You giggled in response, your gaze still focused on your book.

"In me burns the most Catholic of desires; to devour the divine", your voice was like honey in his ears, sweet and sticky, a melody that only you could play.

"what?", he asks, attention on your words, they resonated him. God, he wanted to devour you whole, absorb you, protect you from all the bad in the world, in a way, he wants to protect you from himself.

You repeat your words, he bathes in them, soaking them in.

"what do you think that means?", he ponders, into the air, you smile.

"I don't know. It depends on the person I guess", you whisper.

"what does it mean to you?"

"in my head, against all I was taught, burns a desire to do all that's unholy", you word it softly, slowly, in that moment Steve falls in love with you again, and this time, deeper, deeper than ever before. He's oceans away, meters below the surface, he just wants to keep swimming down, there's no hope for him now, you're it.

"You're the divine I wish to devour", he sings, to you and only you.

You sob into your pillow, fresh tears gracing your soft cheeks, not even the moon can comfort you know.

"honey?", he calls, playful and happy, pure joy dripping from his tongue. This is love, he thinks.

You round the corner, a smile gracing your angelic features. God, you're gorgeous, even more so than usual.

"Darling, I missed you", he says again. He always was one for pet names.

"Hey, Stevie. I missed you t-", you're interrupted by a yawn, your eyes drooping. You're tired, limp is his arms as he embraces you.

He carries you to bed, tucking you in before tucking himself flush against your back. You fit perfectly, you always did, he was always so much taller than you, you always fit so perfect in the palm of his hand.

You fall asleep again, hidden away from the outside world, the one that had brought you so much pain. Your mind is blank as you sleep, the only moments of peace it has allowed you since he left.

As you snooze softly, Bucky knocks on your door, calling out for you. He's worried, but you were doing so well. He decides you're just asleep, and you are, he leaves, but you're not well, you never really have been.

Its still dark in your room when you open your eyes, but its warmer, you know the moon is long gone. Sunshine filters in through the smallest crack in your blinds.

Sunshine.

Steve used to call you that, among other things.

Flower, doll, sunshine, honey, darling, baby. The usuals.

Sometimes he got more creative though, he always was artsy. He would come up with them while he scribbled a messy sketch of you into a beaten up journal.

"my goddess divine" "soul catcher" "maiden of my dreams"

Sometimes, in the dead of night, as the both of you were falling asleep. He would whisper a little poem, a mantra, for you, about you.

"my lady with honey skin and dew drop eyes"

"an angel stood at the gates of heaven, awaiting me with golden love"

Sometime over the week, your tears did dry out. You were left empty, broken, horribly numb. You hated it, you always hated silent emotion. You wanted to scream and shout and sob and cry, you wanted to throw tantrum after tantrum because it wasn't fair.

Because at least as sobs racked your feeble frame, you knew there was something there. You knew that a fire still burned deep inside of you, lightbulbs still flickered in your broken mind. Now, basked in miserable silence, and there was no life left inside of you.

There was nothing here for you now. Peter was growing up, he was graduating soon. Morgan was almost seven. Bucky was doing well on his own, Sam was filling Steve's shoes nicely. Even Pepper was running things smoothly, without you. Without you. Maybe, you've told your story. This is it, the drip finally stops. Not everything lasts forever.

You roll over, gaze landing on a photo you had framed on your nightstand.

You're sandwiched in between Bucky and Steve, both men pressing a wet kiss to either side of your face, and Sam is stood behind you, laughing his ass off, as usual. You smile, and start to stay your goodbyes.

You go through all your memories with your golden boys, happy, sad, angry, desperate. You whisper sweet words of sorrow into thick air as you choke on nothing. You save Bucky for last, he deserves the final kiss.

You remember when you first met Bucky, he was broken and bruised, Zemo had gotten to him. He nearly hurt Sam, his best friend. Bucky was only half there, The Soldier still present in every aching muscle.

Steve knew how good you were, how gentle and understanding you were, you could fix this. He knew you could hold your own, too, if God forbid something were to go wrong.

White walls. White. White. White. A metal table in the middle of the room, two chairs, a plain bed, which was considerably more comfortable than his cell at HYDRA. A mirror graced the wall of the door, double sided mirror, he knew that much.

Then you walked in, in a too-big hoodie and a pair of pajama bottoms, you were tired. Instead of staring at him with shock, or fear, or anger, you smiled. Big and warm and happy, teeth bared to the world.

"May I ask who I'm speaking to?", to you, Bucky and Soldat were two different people, in the same body. Classic personality disorder.

"I don't know you", he stated, voice low and gruff.

"My apologies", you smiled again. He liked that smile. "I'm Y/N", you stuck out your hand to him, no fear, no hesitation. "Y/N L/N, I work with Steve"

Steve. He knows Steve. Despite himself, he takes your hand, your skin is warm and soft, he loves it.

"Bucky?", you whispered, he shook his head.

"Soldat?", you spoke, tone normal once again. "Or would you preferred to be called otherwise?"

You were always so kind to him, you sat and spoke with him, made him feel safe while he fought to cage The Soldier once again. You weren't afraid of The Soldier, he liked you, you were soft, you were sweet, truthfully, you liked him too.

The Winter Soldier had fallen in love with you long before Bucky had. That love festered, growing, burning, constantly, brighter and brighter, taking over his conscience until he was feverish.

He was always there too, on the backburner of your whirlwind of a mind. He was the one you went to when Steve was away. Bucky remembers those days.

It didn't take Bucky long too fall in love with you. No, not at all. You were always there, angelic, ethereal, kind and otherworldly. So sweet and soft, poetic. He loved being your friend, the one you came to. He remembers laughing at you every time you knocked on his door.

"can you open this?"

"I need your help?"

"come train with me"

"I'm bored"

Even as you and Steve got serious, he loved helping you make him smile. You were always happy if Steve was, it was like you were one. You always knew if something was wrong, and you always made it better. If he was hurt, sad, happy, angry, so were you.

"Help me plan Steve's birthday"

"let's plan a game night for Steve"

"what's Steve's favourite colour?"

You and Steve weren't secretive, you just kept to yourselves. Maybe that's why only Sam and Bucky knew your relationship was falling apart. Bucky heard screaming through his ceiling, Sam through his walls. Bucky heard the soft pad of your feet and gentle knocking at his door, Sam got combat boots and broken hinges.

"he's angry again. mission went bad. he needs space"

"don't make me leave, I'm not ready to go back yet"

"can I stay here tonight?"

Then things got better, you never came to his door red faced and teary eyed. It was always with small smiles and propositions, always wanting to go somewhere. You were barely ever at the compound, barely ever with Steve.

"we're going on a mission, me and you"

"let's go out to eat"

"wanna go on an adventure"

Maybe it wasn't time for goodbye. Maybe there was time for just one more day. This is your chance. Live your life. This is your story. Your life does not end because another stopped. Maybe the greatest grief in life is losing another, but Grief, my dear, is a Beautiful Thing.

You threw your legs off the side of your bed, trudging quietly through the night. Soft feet cold on hardwood floors. You tapped your knuckles gently against his door, willing him awake.

The door swung open, he stood tall in the frame. You smiled sadly up at him.

"wanna go on an adventure?"

He didn't even bother getting dressed, neither did you. You just grabbed your shoes, running barefoot to your car. You slid them on as he was jumping in, starting the ignition.

Now, the early morning light was beautiful. The cool sting of pre-sun air, grey skies for miles, a blank canvas, waiting, yearning for the beautiful colours of a sunrise.

Neither of you had spoken a word since you got in the car, reveling in the silence, thick and heavy, filled with sadness and pent up anger, but it was still comfortable. It always was with you too, comfortable.

Stevie Nicks played softly through your speakers, keeping the silence at bay. Bucky never minded the silence, you, on the other hand, hated it. You always had something playing, someone speaking, some noise, any sort of noise playing in the background. Bucky didn't mind the noise either, at least you were happy.

The air warmed up as the sun rose, but you kept your hoodie on, opting to turn the AC up instead.

"So", Bucky finally spoke, "where are we going?"

"I don't know, nor do I care, darling", you laughed.

"I know a place"

Bucky knew a lot of places, so many of your conversations had gone like this. Once he took you to a farmers market in New Jersey, some old hidden bridge covered in weeds uptown, once, you had even ended up in Maine, only god knows how.

You don't know how much time passed before you spoke again, could have been minutes, could have been hours.

"do you think, Steve would be mad at us?"

"why would he be mad at us, doll?", he answered, without taking his eyes off the road.

"I mean, for us."

"I mean, he's not here to judge, but even if he was, I think he'd be happy. Steve was a good man, he respected people and their choices, he would have respected this one too", Bucky was so sure. Steve would always be a good man in his mind, the best man, America's hero. "Why, what do you think?"

"it doesn't matter what I think, just keep driving", you faked a smile for Bucky, and he dropped the subject, remaining silent until he stopped the car.

He had stopped at a field, parked in front of the old, rotting wooden gate.

The field was yellow and rolling, glistening under the rising sun. He hopped the fence easily, quick and agile, beginning his hike to the center of the field. You followed, with significantly less grace, climbing the rickety old fence with caution, almost falling over to the other side.

You walked a few paces behind him, hands outstretched, running through the tall, dry grass. You were almost completely surrounded by it, it was like suffocating in sunshine. Yellow, yellow, yellow, everywhere. And then there was him, tall and stoic and dark, clothed in black from head to toe, silver hand glinting.

You were so caught up in the magic of your surroundings, you hadn't realised Bucky had stopped, until you walked into his wide chest. Then his hands were on you, wrapping around your neck, tangling in your hair, cradling your face, exploring every dip and curve of your body. His mouth was on yours, breathing your air until you were both gasping.

He rested his head on yours, breathless, hands cradling your cheeks. You admired him, "where are we, Buck?"

He stood then, taking your hand and leading you a little to the left. And there, rotted and discoloured, stood an old gazebo.

"Before everything happened", he sighed. everything. HYDRA, The Avengers, Thanos. "I wanted to get married here, have the small wedding. Then the American dream, beautiful wife, two kids, a boy and a girl, a big old dog, white picket fence life, you know"

You nodded along, that had never been your dream. Once upon a time you wanted a wild and chaotic relationship, marriage and settling down was never on your cards, but you had settled down on your own.

"there was this one girl, she was lovely, I always had my eye on her, then she went off and married some abusive old drunk who was at least twice her age."

"I'm sorry", you whispered, not really knowing how to respond. This was something so intimate, so secret, and he was telling you, and it felt wrong, like you were invading his privacy, even though he had told you.

"What about you?"

"Pardon?"

"The dream life, what did you want?"

"I guess I thought it was always just gonna be me n' Steve. I didn't really care if we got married or not, I never really through about kids or a house. I always wanted a cat though, one of the really fat and fluffy, white ones, you know?"

He laughed at the blatant vagueness of it all, "Yeah, I know the ones"

You stood in comfortable silence for a while, until you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder blade as he breathed.

"I'm sorry", you mumbled.

He let out a dry, humourless chuckle, "for what, doll?"

"Everything that happened. I know I can't control it, it's just not fair, you deserve a break"

"you and me, both sweetheart"

You sat in the backseat for a while, holding each other like the world might end soon.

This was love , you thought.

You just want to sleep forever. If Sam doesn't stop knocking on your door you might just kill him. You pulled your covers further over your head, closing your eyes, and willing yourself to sleep. You hadn't been awake for more than twenty minutes at a time, for the last week. You were dehydrated, malnourished, and you were sure you had a bladder infection.

Eventually the knocking ceased and you drifted away.

Steve came to you in your dreams, holding you close and promising forever, just like he used to do. Forever obviously wasn't written in the stars, not for you two, anyway.

Bucky stands at your door. Its locked. He could get in if he really wanted too, and he does, just not that way. He's knocking gently and cooing through the thick wood of your door.

"doll, please"

"wake up, Y/N"

"pup, come on, open the door, for me"

You don't stir from your sleep, you're too far away. It's cool where you are, there's a breeze flowing through your hair, instead of being hot and suffocating and still.

Bucky slid his back down the door, the sun was setting in the sky. His head rested on the cool wood, and eventually, he, too, fell asleep.

It was 3 in the morning, you were hungry, and thirsty, and felt like death. You needed to go for a walk and punch the shit out of something and take a bath. It was overwhelming.

kitchen first. get a snack.

You pulled open your door, only to have Bucky collapse at your feet, now wide awake and in pain.

You stumble back, panicked, shocked, he's scrambling to his feet, reaching out to you. Your back hits the corner of your desk, you're tired, you're still half asleep. All you can think is intruder. run. run. run.

He's still coming for you, calling your name. "Y/N, doll, come here". He's mocking you. doll. Only Bucky calls you that.

Bucky.

You look, you see the familiar glint of metal in place of a hand. You calm. Bucky.

"Bucky"

You allowed yourself into his embrace, he was warm, furnace warm. He wasn't warm like your bedroom. He wasn't suffocating and humid, he was welcoming and cozy. You breathed in that signature scent of gunpowder and old whiskey, and it felt like home.

This was home. He was home.

"no", you mumbled at the innocent thoughts.

"Doll? what's wrong?"

This. This is what's wrong. You fell in love with Steve and now you're in love with his best friend. You cant do this. Steve would be so upset.

"Steve isn't here, pup", he said. You'd sweat that man could read your mind.

Bucky was right, Steve wasn't here, not physically. But he was in all your pictures, he was tangled in your sheets, he was buried in the ring you wore.

He was watching, and he was disappointed. This was wrong, and you were disgusted with yourself.

You felt it bubbling to the surface, hot tears and bile, sweats and empty heaving over a toilet boil. There was nothing to expel, nothing but water and acid that burned your throat and dampened your senses.

This was punishment. You did wrong, you deserved this. You deserved all of this.

you deserved being left, you deserved being toyed with, you deserved the tears and the pain and the grief. Love hurts, grief takes, and it takes, and it never stops, it will eat you from the inside out, because, darling, Grief is a Violent Thing.

@vicmc624 @dee-vn @soleil-dor

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #marvel fic

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 years

Text

Bright Smiles and Tired Eyes ~ Part 3

(THE FLUFF IS HERE!!! This one is all fluff guys! to make up for last chapter. but also.... there’s more angst coming and i’m sorry buuuuuutttt this ones...real cute! Enjoy guys!!!)

Ao3 - Whole Fic

Summary: Modern Au, Punk!Jaskier, Creature!Jaskier. Geralt needs a new roommate to help him pay rent. Jaskier answers his ad. Through a handful of circumstances and series of events… there’s bed sharing. And some angst. ...And so much more.

Word Count: 2581

Geralt hears Jaskier’s voice as he’s walking down the hall. He’s speaking in a hushed voice, whispering sweet nothing to… someone. Geralt’s heart drops into his stomach as his legs falter beneath him. He thinks about turning around, giving Jaskier space to do… whatever he’s going to do with whomever he’s with. He has hiding options flashing through his head like a shuffling deck of cards when his ears dial back into Jaskier’s voice.

“- and your little floppy ears are just ridiculous, so soft. I mean all of you is soft, obviously, but these ears! And these feeties!” his voice gets higher as he speaks, Geralt has heard people uses voices like that before, but never on a lover. He stops in front of their door, reaches out slowly, wraps his fingers around the door knob, and gives it a turn. He pushes the door open slowly, and has to bite his tongue to keep… some kind of strangled noise from escaping him.

Jaskier is sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, his legs spread in a wide V, drink in hand. His mohawk is pink today, a light pink, like the sweetest cotton candy, the sleeves of his green flannel are shoved up his arms, his combat boots are sitting by the door, rainbow striped socks covering his wiggling toes. He’s looking down at the space between his legs, eyes full of adoration, his lips moving as he continues talking to the… Geralt drops his eyes to the floor between his legs, brows furrowing as his eyes take in the animal settled there.

It’s the biggest rabbit Geralt has ever seen. Nearly 3 feet long, its legs stretched out behind it, face smooshed against Jaskier’s thigh as he digs his slender fingers deep into its brown fur. He watches Jaskier for a minute, the man clearly hasn’t heard him come in, lost in his own world, currently full of… a giant rabbit.

“What do you have there?” Geralt inquires, stepping a little closer, crossing his arms. Jaskier’s eyes snap up to him, a smile automatically curving his lips, his eyes are wide as he looks down at the drink in his hand.

“A smoothie.” He says, eyes full of genuine innocence that makes Geralt’s chest ache. Geralt looks at him, widens his eyes.

“Try again.” he says, amusement in his voice. Jaskier’s brow furrows, he looks at the drink and then Geralt watches his eyes drop to the rabbit, he smiles softly as Jaskier’s eyes widen again and his mouth falls open in a gasp of realization.

“Oh this!” he says, pointing at the rabbit.

“Yes Jaskier. That. What is that?” he shakes his head but keeps smiling.

“Right well. Do you remember last week when I texted you and asked if you liked cats? And you said-“

“They don’t like me.”

“Right you said they don’t like you, cuz of the whole,” Jaskier waves his hand in Geralt’s direction, gesturing to all of him.

“Thing. Good so you remember that. Well this is… not… a cat.” He finishes lamely, pointing at the giant rabbit resting against his legs. It looked up at Geralt as he stepped a little closer. He waited for it to see what he was, and bolt, and found he was waiting in vain. The rabbit looked at him, its nose twitching as it seemed to assess him, and then moved its head back to Jaskier’s leg, closing its eyes with a sigh. Geralt furrowed his brow. Jaskier looked up at him with shinning eyes.

“I can see it’s not a cat. Why is it in our house?” He knelt down slowly, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at them both. Jaskier took a sip of his smoothie and set his cup down, clearly stalling for time.

“Okay so here’s the thing, a friend of mine owns an animal rescue. And their building is being renovated, because they’re expanding so they can help more little babies like her. So they had to foster all their animals out. It’s just for a little bit. And I did tell her that you might say no so she has someone else lined up if this little one needs somewhere else to go. I just thought… I don’t know. That we could help. For a bit.” He grimaces after his rapidly spoken rant, clearly waiting for Geralt to tell him no, waiting for him to tell him to get the rabbit out of the house. Geralt sighs and lowers himself fully onto the floor, crossing his legs.

“How long is a little while?” he sees light begin to shine behind Jaskier’s eyes.

“Two weeks, three at the most! And she’s trained and everything. She’s got a litter box and a big pen thing, I have it set up in my room right now. And my friend gave me food and everything so we don’t have to pay for anything out of pocket, just house her and keep her safe. She’s an older lady, she won’t be any trouble… I hope.” He smiles sheepishly at Geralt, his hand reaching out, fingertips brushing against Geralt’s knee before he thinks better of it and pulls his hand back. He’d been doing that a lot lately, reaching out for Geralt and then seeming to catch and stop himself. Geralt’s heart flinches in his chest every single time it happens, he can’t help the feeling that he wishes Jaskier wouldn’t stop himself.

“Three weeks.” Geralt affirmed. Jaskier nodded, watching him with patience, letting him think. He was good at that, or had gotten good at it. Over the months he’d been here. Jaskier was… very much not, the kind of person to think things through. He jumped into things head first and figured things out as he went. Geralt had a habit of silently thinking things through before doing anything. Jaskier had picked up on it almost immediately, and had not, not once, pushed Geralt to make any decisions faster. Sometimes he would even leave him to it, grabbing a book and reading or playing some music in his room, while Geralt thought. Geralt watched Jaskier’s fingers tapping against his own knee and looked at him.

“Okay.” He sighed. Jaskier’s smile shined at him, impossibly bright.

“Okay? Really? Are you sure cuz I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.” He held his hands up in front him, a gesture of surrender that wasn’t needed.

“I’m sure. Does she have a name?” he asked, his fingers beginning to itch as he watched the rabbit sleep.

“No. They don’t name them anymore.” His voice sounded sad, but there was a glint in eyes.

“Anymore?” he pressed the palm of his hand against the floor and moved his hand toward the rabbit slowly.

“Yeah. They kept getting… attached.” He sounded a little breathless, Geralt could feel his eyes on him. Geralt pressed just a little closer, his fingers finally reaching the fur on her back foot. Her head lifted again at the touch. She looked at Geralt for a moment and then moved to sniff him. Her nose twitching against his fingers, she pushed herself onto her feet, turned herself around and hopped over Jaskier’s leg, toward Geralt. She pressed herself into the space between them, squeezing through their legs and lowering herself down again. She wiggled, getting herself comfortable, and then dropped her head on Geralt’s knee, her eyes falling closed again. Geralt’s eyes were wide, he could feel them, his heart beating fast in chest at this small show of affection. He heard a small noise and looked up. Jaskier had his hand pressed to his mouth, his eyes shinning with- were those tears?

“Are you alright?” Geralt whispered, not wanting to raise his voice, worried he’d startle her. Jaskier wiped at his face, nodding and smiling.

“I’m fine I’m good. Sorry. It’s just so cute.” He waved his hand at Geralt, sniffling as he looked down at her resting between them. His eyes moved slowly up to look at Geralt, his tongue peeking out and running along his bottom lip before his teeth bit into it. He did reach out then, his hand falling carefully on Geralt’s arm. He looked at him, something swimming in those ocean eyes, and gave Geralt’s arm a gentle squeeze. Geralt looked back at him, and dried not to drown.

~*~

He was laying on the couch, book open on his chest, when he felt it. A gentle tapping on his leg. He moved his book to the side to see the rabbit, still nameless, standing up on her hind legs, her front paw smacking at his knee, her little head turned towards him, ears twitching. Geralt swallowed hard, he knew what she wanted. He’d seen her laying across Jaskier’s legs while he was laying here the other day. He looked around the room, checking for nonexistent eyes that might be watching him. He let his book fall onto his chest and moved his hand down his leg slowly. She shuffled to the side a bit, her neck stretching to nose at Geralt’s hand. He let her sniff him and then patted his knee. Once. She looked at him. Still a bit unsure.

“It’s alright. Come on.” He encouraged, voice quiet, not quite a whisper, and patted his leg again. She was on him in an instant. Her big paws gently moving herself around his thighs. Her claws poked him a few times, but only just, she was so careful. Picking her paws up in small steps, shuffling in a circle before settling on his knees. She lay on her tummy as he watched her. She looked around the room for a moment and then pushed herself onto her side, resting her head on her paws. Geralt felt warmth spread from his knees up to his chest, a smile tugged at his lips and he let it spread. He reached his hand down, fingers pressing into the fur at the side of her neck.

“He’s right you know. You are very cute.” Her eyes shut slowly as he moved his fingers through her soft, thick fur.

“You like it here with us?” he asked, she pressed her head into his hand.

“Hmm. We like having you.” He assured, moving his thumb over the top of her head between her large ears, giving them a scratch before moving back to his book. The warmth she carried with her seeped into him, his eyelids began to droop, eyes no longer moving over the words in front of him. He slid his finger between the pages of his book, keeping his place, and let the book rest on his chest. He closed his eyes, just to rest them, only for a moment, and drifted off to sleep.

He hears the front door open. He hears Jaskier stumble in. Hears him struggle to get his key out of the door. And keeps his eyes shut.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaskier calls, his voice quiet in the fading light of the living room. Geralt shoves down a shiver. He knows Jaskier is talking to the rabbit. He’s been saying it since she came to stay with them. He bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to focus on the fact that his life has led him to a place where he’s jealous of a rabbit. He feels her shift on his knees, but feels her settle again.

“Guys?” Jaskier calls softly, Geralt can hear him walking further into the room, his boots squeaking softly as he walks toward them. And he keeps his eyes shut.

He hears Jaskier gasp when he sees them, and hears him digging in his pocket, no doubt looking for his phone.

“Oh for fucks sake.” He breaths, clearly struggling to get his phone out.

“Hi sweetie, are you and daddy number two sleeping?” he’s whispering, the quietest Geralt has ever heard his voice. Geralt has to bite the inside of his cheek again to stop from smiling, knowing how hard Jaskier must be trying not to wake him. The back of his eyelids glow, only for a second, and then go dark again. There’s a tug in his chest knowing Jaskier now has a photo of him sleeping on his phone, the tug grows stronger knowing Jaskier wants a photo of him sleeping on his phone.

He feels Jaskier lean down. The corner of his flannel brushing against Geralt’s face briefly as he reaches over him to pet the rabbit in his lap. He can hear him whispering nonsense to her, feels him lean down further to press a kiss to her head, and tries his hardest not to smile. And keeps his eyes closed.

“One for you.” He hears him whisper, feels him pull back, the flannel disappearing from his face with a small breeze as Jaskier passes back over him. He feels the arm of the couch below his head dip as Jaskier frames his head with his hands, Geralt can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his heart beat moving to his ears as he listens to Jaskier bend down again. He feels the gentlest press of lips against his forehead, the briefest brush of skin against skin.

“And one for you.” Jaskier whispers, and then he’s gone. The contented scent of him lingering behind in a cloud around Geralt’s head, assaulting his senses as he lies in the dark. He listens to Jaskier shuffle around in the kitchen, still doing his best not to wake him, and hears him walk to his room, humming softly to himself as he closes the door behind him. Geralt opens his eyes when he hears his door click shut, his hand moving to the fur of the rabbit still cozy on his knees, letting her ground him. He looks down at her, sighing when she gives him a knowing look.

He lies in the dark. His heart pounding in his chest, his skin burning from the kiss Jaskier had given him. Such a small thing, the smallest press of lips to his skin, but it felt heavy in the dark. Like Jaskier had dropped a weight on him. Not dropped really, Jaskier would never drop anything too heavy on him, he’d lay it on him gently, making sure he could take the weight before giving it to Geralt fully. Geralt couldn’t know this, not really, but he knew Jaskier. And he knew Jaskier had thought he was sleeping. And he knew one more thing.

He knew how often he’d fallen asleep on this couch. And how often Jaskier had come home late. And how often he’d woken with blankets covering him. Geralt lay in the dark, his fingers digging gently into thick fur, his heart pounding at the thought of Jaskier having pressed his lips against him before. Maybe more than once. Maybe several times. And he’d missed them all. Because he’d been wrong before, he didn’t just know one more thing. He knew two. The other thing he knew, as he lay in the dark, skin burning from the contact Jaskier had given him, was the it had seemed natural to Jaskier. Like he’d done it before. A swift but gentle press of lips, the ghost of a kiss that could be, the ghost of kisses that had been. There was a practiced familiar feeling to it.

Geralt lay in the dark and let himself smile at the ceiling.

#bright smiles and tired eyes #bsate part 3 #geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fic #the witcher netflix fic #my fic #my writing

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akhilleuskcsmcs · 4 years

Text

CHARACTER INTERVIEW

▌real name: Akhilleus (in proper Greek)

▌single or taken: Single, technically. In proper myth, he’s with Patroclus and Briseis.

▌abilities or powers: Immortality except for his right heel. Super Speed (described as the fastest of all Achaeans and that fastest hero of all eras), great combat capabilities (he’s able to fight both Siegfried, who is stated to have an outstanding swordsmanship and Frankenstein’s Monster who is, well, a Berserker), mastery of Pankration, mastery of spear combat, great swordsmanship (he carries a xyphos with him that he uses in conjunction with his spear, in order to fight hordes of enemies.)

▌eye colour: Gold.

▌hair colour: Green (Red in the Iliad)

▌family members: Thetis (mother) / Peleus (father) / Neoptolemus/Pyrrhus (son)

▌pets: None - his horses don’t count.

▌something they don’t like: Failure/losing

▌hobbies/activities:Training, fighting, reading (at times if he’s bored enough)

▌ever hurt anyone before: Yes.

▌ever killed anyone before: Yes.

▌worst habits:Achilles has a tendency to not take his opponents seriously from the get-go. This stems from the fact that, well, he’s Achilles. The immortal hero of the Achaean Army, he’s so confident on his own strength and power that when someone actually poses a challenge to him he gets frustrated and gets angry (which is also a really bad thing for him but that’s not the issue) not to mention that, against people he likes, he’s never going with the intent to kill or hurt and if those people fight against him for real, he can’t bring himself to fight them seriously. His own self-absorbed moments tend to bite him in the ass (such as when he didn’t notice Atalanta’s problems in the Great Holy Grail War)

▌role models: Chiron, his father Peleus.

▌sexual orientation: Bisexual.

▌thoughts on marriage/kids:Believe it or not, he likes kids! Had he not died in Troy I believe he would’ve loved to meet Pyrrhus and spend time with him. Marriage is a bit tricky for him since he wasn’t married during his lifetime, he had a few encounters here and there (Briseis and Deidamia, the princess of Skyros) he doesn’t have any real feelings for marriage, he’d only had eyes for Patroclus and the two were never married, but for all intents and purposes they were a married couple seeing how much time they spent together and how long they’ve known each other. Really, Patroclus is the only serious relationship he had in his life, in the romantic sense so who knows, in modern day he might ask Patroclus to marry him. If anything just to make it even more official.

▌fears:Achilles doesn’t fear many things, if any at all, he’s a hero after all! However... A part of him was always afraid of losing Patroclus (Which did happen and he did NOT handle it well) in general, losing people he loves/cares about is his greatest fear, in no small part helped by how he lost Patroclus. He doesn’t fear death, he willingly went to war despite knowing he’d die young.

▌style preferences: He’s not exactly picky about it. He does tend to gravitate towards the comfortable and practical styles, things like jeans, work boots/combat boots, simple shirts like henleys and leather jackets are also his thing. He tends to go for colors easy to pair such as black, grey and blues, though he will add some color like orange that contrasts with his hair. Despite his standing as a prince, he’s not one to flaunt his status and the money he has.

▌someone they love: His parents, Patroclus, Briseis and to a certain degree Penthesilea.

▌approach to friendships: Complicated. Achilles isn’t one that makes friends easily but when he does, his friendship is the kind that means he’ll always have your back. His first and most dear friend is Patroclus and that happened due to how Peleus threw the two together, so Achilles uses that relationship as the basis to get friends. Just stick to them and be himself. Sure, it might not work at first since he’s a bit too familiar (like how it happened with Atalanta) but he’s a steadfast friend and a really reliable person when it counts.

▌thoughts on pie:He LOVES pie. In general, he’s not picky... Though give him apple pie or cheesecake or he’ll stab you.

▌favourite drink: Wine.

▌favourite place to spend time at: Depends of where he’s summoned. Though most often than not you’ll find him sitting down in the forest (or wherever there’s trees) and near any body of water. Rivers, lakes and the ocean, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s a large body of water, it makes him feel close to his mother Thetis (a sea nymph/goddess of water) no matter what, he thinks better and clearer when he’s near the water.

▌swim in the lake or in the ocean:Normally he’d prefer either but, since it’s a choice, he’d prefer the sea. Again, he’s used to it and he’s not afraid of deep water.

▌their type: He does have a type. He loves the kind of person that is sure on what they can do and owns it, the kind of people that are confident and know what they’re about are really what he likes. If they’re strong, can fight and keep up with him then it’s even better for him. At the same time, he’s appreciative of someone who isn’t swayed easily, someone who, like him, sticks to the path they chose and don’t back down. Just like how he chose to go to Troy and earn glory and never went back on that, that’s the kind of person he loves. Those that stick to their guns.

▌camping or indoors: Camping, no doubt.

Tagged by @ardenssolis (THANK YOU!)

Tagging: @burdensword , @warraigoe , @waytofall , @warhcwl , @risquees , @mirckel , @miburoni , @caemthe and ANYONE who wants to do it. Just say I tagged you

#( Long Post )#( To be tagged )

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

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Chosen Stories From the War #29: A Day at the Beachside Ruins

“Get that oversized rat away from me!”

“Konnie, come on! He’s been here two weeks! He’s practically family!”

“No! It is a wild animal, with claws and teeth and it eats garbage!”

“So are we, Sister! You can’t hide from it forever!”

Bradford sighed, sipping his coffee loudly as the clunking of angry combat boots filled the ship. He wished for the love of any god out there, that Kon-Mai would just pet the damn possum so Gur-Rai would shut the hell up. Unfortunately Kon-Mai’s fear of koalas seemed to spread to other marsupials as well, and she all but demanded that the thing be put outside. To be honest, Bradford couldn’t really blame her. Having a live animal (and a wild animal at that) was probably a bad idea, but of course Senuna had seen the damn thing and immediately fallen in love with it, so now there was no chance of it going anywhere.

And thus, poor Bradford walked over to the sink, dumped his coffee and crossed his arms. “Children, I can barely hear myself think over that noise you’re making.”

“Tell him to leave me be, then!” Kon-Mai jabbed her thumb at her brother as he followed her into the common area. She was still favoring her previously broken leg, but Tygan had at least given the okay for the metal splint to come off for short periods.

“Tell her to just pet the damn possum!” Gur-Rai held up Pangu, who was hanging from his grip like a floppy rug.

“Leave your sister alone, Darkstrider.” Bradford said. “Don’t you have a robot to build and supplies to destroy?”

“Soft animals are relaxing, Bradford.” He held Pangu close to Bradford’s face. “Come on~”

Bradford shook his head. “Put him back in his pen.”

“Aw come on.”

“That’s an order, Darkstrider. That or I’ll have Tygan put him in the maze again.”

Gur-Rai gasped dramatically and hugged his possum close. “You monster.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine. Konnie, don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back.”

As soon as he left, Kon-Mai turned to Bradford. “He is gone, let’s pack up and abandon ship.”

Bradford chuckled. “Come on, he’s your brother.”

“Yes.” She raised a brow and chuckled. “It’s what you were thinking, Central.”

“Got me there.” He stood up. “Need anything? Besides to get away from your siblings?”

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“Itching for a mission already?” He set his dirty cup on the console. “The Commander is stopping by Carthage. Geist wants to renegotiate the terms of our alliance. Again.”

Kon-Mai raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean renegotiate?”

Bradford ran a hand over his wrinkled face. “Geist and the Commander don’t like each other all that much. Nonetheless, both of them realize they need each other to achieve their goal of killing the Elders. Unfortunately, that also means that they keep trying to stab each other under the table.”

Kon-Mai seemed to bristle at that. “The Commander goes behind the back of her own allies?”

“Not if she can help it. But Geist is crafty, and it’s a tough job keeping all the Templars in line.” He admitted. “As it stands, he’s upset because we’ve been diverting extra training to our own Psi Soldiers, like Princess, rather than his Templar warriors. We have limited space for both so the Commander needs to hash out a deal with him, one that ends in this alliance staying together.”

Kon-Mai avoided Bradford’s gaze and crossed her arms. “I don’t see why this needs doing. Should one side not just capitulate for the sake of the war?”

“Which side?” Bradford asked. “That’s the problem, Shrinemaiden. We can’t favor the Templars at the expense of our own soldiers, especially when the Reapers and Skirmishers already don’t like them. Doing that would put more out of balance than would be worth it.”

“Perhaps I am not suited for politics.” Kon-Mai admitted.

“You’re one of our best assets on the battlefield.” Bradford assured her. “Don’t worry about the Templars. You three keep doing your jobs, and we still have an amazing edge on the Elders.”

Kon-Mai nodded and smiled. “I am thankful, Central.”

“Oh I am too. Believe me.”

“You are tense this morning.” Dhar-Mon’s voice cut into the depths of Malinalli’s mind. It was futile to ignore when they were bonded like this.

She opened her eyes briefly, then closed them again as the bright fluorescent light of his bedroom stung her cornea. “Just thinking about the other soldiers.” She said softly.

“What about them?” And with that, she felt him tense up as well. It made her giggle.

“Getting jealous?” She cooed. “A lot of them have been suffering from psychological ailments, stuff I’m not qualified to treat.”

The anxiety faded from Dhar-Mon’s mind, replaced with a curious twinge of blue.

“We’ve been having a lot more deaths, too.” She added. “I think it’s starting to wear on people but I don’t know how to help.”

“You are a kind and genuine person.” He assured her. “You do not simply wish to better your own life but the lives of others. That is something I have rarely seen.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “But how do I help them?”

Her connection to Dhar-Mon faded as he let go of her hands, and she opened her eyes. She was once again aware of her surroundings, like the softness of the bed they sat on, and how very warm it was.

He was silent for a moment. “To say I know how to help these poor souls would be to lie.” He admitted. “But there is a way. Perhaps it is for you to find. Perhaps not. In either case, I have full faith in you.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Master~”

He blushed, and she giggled, declaring that a victory.

The ship shuttered just a bit, and they felt the gentle thunk as they touched down on land. Malinalli stood up and stretched. “We’re here!”

“And where is here?” Dhar-Mon asked her.

“Dunno.” She held out her hand. “Wanna come see?”

The sun was high in the sky, covering everything in a blanket of warmth. The sky was such a bright blue, and the way it reflected in the ocean blurred the horizon line and made it seem as though everything was merged together. Truly, as Dhar-Mon looked out over the ocean, the smell of the salty air took him back to his stronghold, and he breathed in deeply, the tranquility consuming him.

For a moment.

Something slapped him in the back of the head, and as he bristled and turned around, he saw Gur-Rai laughing with Shen as the two of them raced down the platform of the Avenger and onto the sand.

Kon-Mai and Verge were not far behind, emerging slowly from the Avenger dock, both decidedly curious at the sight before them. Kon-Mai seemed to twist her leg a bit inside the splint, and it held.

Dhar-Mon opted to turn back to his brother. “What have you done to me?”

“I just flicked you. You weren’t paying attention.” Gur-Rai raced up the dock again and took Dhar-Mon’s hand. “Come on, come on, I wanna go swimming!”

“Swimming? We are here on a mission!”

“Bradford gave us the okay as long as we keep our radios on!” Shen called out. “Do you know how to swim, Hieromonk?”

Dhar-Mon scoffed. “Dr. Shen, I am surprised at you. My stronghold was in the center of Italy, and I patrolled the coastal towns on the regular! Of course I know how to swim!” He raised a brow. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” She came up behind Gur-Rai. “And how to surf~”

“Oh, we should do that!” Gur-Rai looked to the two behind his brother. “How bout it you two?”

Kon-Mai sighed. “We are working, Gur-Rai, this is not a vacation.”

“Sure it is.” He smiled. “I bet you just know I can outswim you, Little Sister.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow and smirked. “You are quite mistaken, Brother.”

“Prove it.”

“I do not have swimwear.” She protested. “And if you think I am going to strip to my undergarments, you are sorely mistaken.”

On cue, footsteps came up behind them, and as Kon-Mai turned, Senuna stood there, beaming. She was flanked by Malinalli, Bradford, and Jane, the latter of whom was carrying a stack of clothing in her hands.

“Commander.” Kon-Mai and Dhar-Mon both bowed respectfully, and Verge saluted her. But she seemed to ignore them all.

“The ocean is so beautiful today…” Senuna sighed, her green eyes as wistful as the air. “Reminds me...well.” The Commander looked forward, finally facing her soldiers. “I have gifts for all of you!” She gestured Jane forward, and it was then they saw the officer was holding a few articles of clothing.

“What is this?” Kon-Mai asked. Jane went to her first, pointedly holding up what almost looked like a dress, though it was short enough to be a shirt. With it was a pair of small trunks, both dyed a dark pink, nearly purple color.

“We had your measurements from making your armor.” Jane said. “I...hope you don’t mind, I took some liberties. Seemed like something you would like…” If she was blushing, Kon-Mai couldn’t tell in the sunlight.

“If it fits me, then it is a masterpiece.” Kon-Mai smiled at her. Jane avoided her gaze and kept distributing the articles of clothing.

“Are you guys gonna join us?” Shen asked.

Bradford shook his head. “Unfortunately we have to meet with Geist.” He sighed. “God I wish I could join you guys. Been too long since I’ve been to the beach.”

“You kids have fun for me!” Senuna winked. “There are some wood panels in the garage that would make excellent surfboards~”

Senuna had to admit, as much as she hated Geist, she loved Carthage and really admired what he had done with the place. The ancient metropolis had found new life with the Templars, who made their way lazily along stone streets, practicing fighting techniques in open arenas, trading goods and services among themselves in front of the stores they had set up. While some of the ancient walls still lay in ruin, they had repaired what they could and replaced even more, and Senuna could feel some of that mysterious, ancient energy returning to the site.

“Commander.” A familiar voice said. “Geist is this way.”

She and her officers turned to glance at the dark-skinned woman behind them, her blue uniform all too familiar.

“Iabet. Good to see you! How’s the wife?” Senuna cried.

Iabet seemed surprised before she smiled warmly. “Tornike is well. And little Siv too, they have recovered from their injuries. Siv is looking at a promotion soon...”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” She clapped.

“Commander, I understand you and Geist do not get along. But he is waiting.” Iabet chuckled.

“Yes, I know. But I’ve waited a thousand years before and it did me so much good!” Senuna laughed as though everyone else was in on the joke, when in reality Bradford was facepalming and Iabet stood there in confusion.

“...I do have one question.” Iabet admitted. “The Warlock…”

“What about him?” Senuna asked. “He goes by the Hieromonk now, by the way, and I think it fits him so well! I couldn’t be more proud of the little-”

“He’s alive?” Iabet gasped. “...I’m sorry, last I saw him he was bleeding out, when they took him away.”

“He’s alive.” Jane cut in. “He made a full recovery too. Can fight again and everything.”

Iabet’s face relaxed significantly. “I’m glad...none of us knew what happened. Geist never told us.”

“Of course he didn’t.” Senuna growled. “Come on then. It’s time I spoke to him.”

It had been so long since Kon-Mai had been in the water. Well, water that wasn’t from a shower or bath. She had been trained to swim by her priests in her first year, but even that was almost a decade ago. Since those lessons, she’d been confined to the shore for her work, focusing most her efforts around inland China, being ferried by helicarrier when she had to cross the open sea.

Kon-Mai took a breath, remembering the old words Bhandasura used to speak to her. You must be calm, like water. Water does not hurt, it waits, trickles patiently. And that is who you are, how you love. But this? This was different. The ocean was so raw and unhinged, so gentle and forthcoming. It did not hold back; it did not need to. The waves crashed against the shore with a fury so foreign yet so familiar to her, and yet the way the lazy foam hugged the sand was warm and comforting.

She took a step forward into the wet sand. Her long hair was out of it’s unusual braids and hung loose down her back, baby hairs flying wayward in the sea breeze. The water ashed up around her feet and she gasped at the cold. She had removed her splint to keep it from being damaged, and saw yet another badge of honor graced her leg: an angry white mark where her bone cut her skin.

“Heads up, Konnie!” Gur-Rai called from where he was as he smacked the water. Even from his position deep in the water, waves up to his chest, he still managed to splash her all the way on shore. “Come on! Quit stalling and get in!”

“Brother!” She growled. “Stop that!”

Gur-Rai smirked and smacked an oncoming wave again, this time showering his sister with droplets of foam.

She hissed. “You will suffer for that!”

“Make me~” He stuck his tongue out.

“Dude, she’s gonna do it!” Shen cried, backing up away from the ballistic missile she knew was coming.

“You are right.” Kon-Mai took several steps back, took a breath and dashed forward, launching herself into the waves. For a moment, the sand blinded her, but then the water cleared and she could see where Gur-Rai (or at least his feet) were.

With the grace of a dolphin, she swam along the shallow bottom, keeping low until she was directly behind him, at which point she curled up, tightening her body like a coil, and sprung.

Gur-Rai let out a yelp as his sister grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him down into the water with her. Shen burst out laughing at the sight, while Gur-Rai struggled to get back to his feet.

“Kon-Mai! Stop! Lemme go! I can’t swim, you bitch!”

“That is a lie!” Kon-Mai popped up once again. “You are Chosen! We can all swim!”

“Can you?” Malinalli asked as she came up beside Shen. Her hair had fallen from it’s bun, and the water had plastered her curls nearly flat, making her hair resemble dark locks of seaweed..

“Of course.” Warlock was wading over through the waves, although he was so tall that they barely came up to his knees. “We have trained for years in many survival skills. Swimming is important in a world that is mostly covered in water.”

“At least the Elders made sure you all could do that.” Malinalli looked over to Verge, who was sitting cross legged on the sand. “Come on Verge! The water is warm!”

He hesitated. “I am fine, Molly! Don’t worry about me!”

“Unfortunately, Sectoids did not get the same treatment we Chosen did.” Dhar-Mon sighed. “Verge, if you wish, I will teach you to at least survive in the water.”

“I am fine here…” Verge seemed to hesitate as he said that, and it prompted Warlock to sigh.

“Are you sure?” Gur-Rai called out when he finally broke free from Kon-Mai’s grasp. “Come on Verge! You can stay in the shallows for now!”

Verge looked hesitant.

Kon-Mai emerged from the depths, wringing out her long, white hair. “Verge, come join us, please.” She flashed him a smile similar to her brother’s when he wanted to be charming. “I promise you, you shall not drown when I am here.”

While Verge did not seem to be swayed by her, he did look longingly out at the waves, and slowly stood. His swimsuit looked like it had come straight from the 60’s, and was more like a full body wetsuit if not for the fact that it stopped at his elbows and knees. He took a few steps into the water.

“Malinalli, you have lied to me.” He said. “This water is frigid.”

She laughed and, like a mermaid, dove back into the water.

“Commander.”

“Geist.”

The two examined each other in the low light. Seated on opposite sides of the table, a chessboard sat between them, Senuna in white and Geist in black. His robes matched his pieces perfectly, in stark contrast with the Commander.

“We should switch.” She said. “Black isn’t your color.”

“I know.” He said. “I am in mourning.”

“For who?” Senuna leaned forward and plucked her queen piece from the board.

“Three more of my Templars have fallen.” He spat. “One on a mission you sent him on.”

“I’m sorry.” Senuna sighed. “I remember Hassan. They were facing off against a Berserker. He died defending his friends.”

“He is still dead.” Geist stared her down. “Senuna. You have been reckless with the agents I give you.”

“Your agents are some of the best.” She said. “I would never give them a challenge they couldn’t handle.”

“But you did, and now Hassan Apoorva is dead.”

Senuna looked up, her eyes surprisingly blank and dead. “We are fighting a war, Geist. Remember?”

He glared at her, his eyes glowing purple in the dim light of the room. Any light that leaked inside had to cut through thick curtains and stone walls. Still, a bit of yellow sunshine tickled the edge of the room.

Senuna met Geist’s gaze and did not flinch. He was powerful, but she was even moreso. He was still a baby in terms of his power. He would be no danger to her, even if he tried.

But she took a breath even so, calming herself. “Geist, it makes me sad to see your soldiers die, as sad as it makes me to lose my own.” She tried to assure him. “I never sent Hassan in with the thought that he would die. But deaths do happen. I have lost at least 50 good people in the last six months.”

“To be honest, Senuna.” Geist crossed his arms. “I feel like you don’t take this seriously.” He leaned forward. “You need us. It’s why you’re here.”

“That is true. I do need you.” She stood slowly, her cape flourishing around her in a way so elegant, it would make any Templar jealous. “But let's not forget, Geist, how much work you all put into getting me out. Whatever was the point of that, hm?” She smiled, her teeth glowing white as she circled around the table.

Geist began to lean away, but Senuna’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm, her long nails digging into his sleeve. “No, no, no. Don’t go running off.”

“Let go.” He tried to rip his arm away, but her grip was like steel, and when he looked up, her eyes glowed like blue coals in the hottest fire. Her expression, though blank, held the faintest smile.

“You have no idea what I’ve seen, Geist.” She hissed. “What I can do.”

“You’re no more powerful than I.” His own eyes burned with purple light, and the room was growing hot.

“I wouldn’t place your bets on that.” She giggled. “I don’t want a fight, Geist.”

“Why not? Afraid to lose?”

“No. I’d just hate to accidentally kill you.” She let go of him. “I am not your enemy.”

“You are making a terrible case for yourself.” He muttered, rubbing his arm.

She sat across from him again. “...This world is my home too.” She said softly. “Just like it is yours.”

“Then act like it.” He said. “I want my soldiers to be given better equipment. Better training. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I don’t have anything better than what you already have.” Senuna sighed. “You want me to keep your soldiers from death and that’s not something I can do.”

Geist glared at the chessboard, and Senuna reached out.

“I can’t give your soldiers priority.” She said. “But if, hypothetically, they wanted to join in the Reapers and Skirmishers training, that is a possibility.”

Geist thought for a moment. “More training with guns? ...That is something we need.”

“I have some basic ammunition in the stores as well. I can set up the Carthage militia with some extra equipment.”

Geist nodded. “That’s not what I had hoped for. But it will do.” He picked up his own queen and tossed it aside. “I suppose you’ve beaten me at this game.”

“I don’t even know how to play chess.” Senuna grinned.

Verge let his head dip below the water, only long enough that the salty wave crashed over his head. The force would have been enough to send his scrawny body flying, had Dhar-Mon not been holding his arms.

“Calm yourself, I have you.” His strong voice reverberated through the water and made Verge feel safe once again. “Kick your legs, Verge.”

Verge tried to say something, but as he opened his mouth he just breathed in a bunch of water accidentally. Jumping up and hacking, he stood there in chest deep water as Dhar-Mon patted his back.

“I’m sorry...” Verge gagged out between hacking coughs.

“Do not worry.” The Chosen chuckled. “It was a mistake.” He looked out into the waves. “It appears the tide is coming in. The waves are growing.”

“Perfect surfin’ weather!” Gur-Rai called. He and Shen had managed to sand down some of the boards into functioning surfboards. While they weren’t completely aerodynamic, they could support their weight in the water. Shen was straddling one while Gur-Rai stood beside another, waving to Dhar-Mon and Verge.

“You wanna join us?” Shen called.

“I shall observe for now.” Dhar-Mon answered. “Come, Verge, let us find a calmer spot.”

“Where is Kon-Mai?” She and Malinalli had gone walking along the beach somewhere, and they hadn’t seen them for a while. As the waves picked up, he heard Gur-Rai let out a holler.

“I am wondering the same thing.” Dhar-Mon looked vaguely worried. ‘And Malinalli, I had thought they would have reappeared by now…”

“I can always practice swimming later.” Verge insisted. “Let’s go-”

“Dhar-Mon!” Malinalli’s voice echoed across the channel.

“Malinalli?” He called out, his booming voice overpowering the sound of the waves. Verge could not see them, but he could hear.

“Dhar-Mon! Get the others!”

“Molly?!” He cried. “She must be hurt.” He waved to his brother and Shen. “COME! WE ARE NEEDED!”

Verge saw Gur-Rai jump off his board into an oncoming wave and begin paddling over to them, followed closely by Shen. As he looked, he realized that Malinalli’s voice was coming from a sea cave that was a good way into the ocean, along the jutting cliff face. He’d have to swim to get there.

Dhar-Mon had no trouble with that prospect. He dove into the water with the speed and grace of a dolphin, as though he was born in the water. Verge saw him come up for air, and then stared at the Hieromonk as he began to swim, the toned muscles on his back rippling as he did. The water and sunlight made his blue skin glisten…

He looked up as Gur-Rai emerged from under the water too, and Shen followed, dragging her board. “Here.” Gur-Rai pulled it over to him. “Get on this, I’ll pull you over.”

“I’ll just stay here.” Verge insisted.

“I’m not leaving you alone out here.” Gur-Rai gave him a smile that was almost comforting. “It’s okay. Come with me.”

Verge sighed, and Lily held the board steady as he hopped up. It wobbled a bit in the waves, but Gur-Rai was holding it, and Verge knew he would not fall.

They waded out into deeper water, and soon Gur-Rai began a frog stroke, keeping hea head above the water and one hand on the board Verge sat on. Lily swam beside them, doing more of a floppy doggy paddle.

Verge opted to watch Gur-Rai. Every so often he would duck under the water, then come back up, the blue of his skin mixing with the blue of the ocean. He looked and moved like he belonged in the water, his lithe body cutting through the waves like a fish would. Verge could see Gur-Rai’s own muscles as he swam and, while they were nowhere near as impressive as Dhar-Mon’s, his skinny frame paired with the sharp tendons made him look incredibly powerful.

Gur-Rai came up and called out “Dhar-Mon! What’s the-” He broke off with a slew of curse words, practically jumping out of the water and almost knocking Verge off the board. “FUCKFUCKFUCK SOMETHING TOUCHED MY LEG!”

There was a bubbling sound, then a splash, and Verge heard laughing as Kon-Mai came up, struggling to tread water when she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“You bitch!” Gur-Rai slapped the water, splashing her in the face. “I thought you and Molly were dying!”

“Nope!” Verge turned at the sound of Malinalli’s voice and found that she was now piggy-backing on Dhar-Mon, who was miraculously staying afloat under their combined weight. “We just found a cool cave and wanted to show you.”

“I apologize, Brother.” Dhar-Mon chuckled. “Scaring you was my suggestion.”

“The whole world is against me.” Gur-Rai put a hand to his head and pretended to faint into the water.

“I am not against you.” Verge assured him. “In fact while I cannot swim, I can climb. Somewhat.”

Gur-Rai grinned. “Race you guys up that cliff!” He took hold of Verge and began to paddle.

“Gur-Rai, you are going to get hurt!” Kon-Mai shook her head. “Is there any real point in stopping him?”

“None that I see.” Dhar-Mon held out his hand. “Come on, Sister, we cannot simply let him win~”

“I’d say that went well.” Senuna mused as she scratched Pangu behind the ears. The possum was nibbling on a piece of jerky Bradford had given him, and her Central Officer was now laid back on the couch. “Bradford, there is still daylight left if you’d like to swim~”

“Nah.” He chuckled. “Doubt I remember how. When you grow up in rural Kansas it’s an awful long walk to the beach.”

“Well, I could always teach you.” She mused, looking out the window as the sun cut across the glassy waves. She saw the Chosen, the children, returning to the shore, playfully splashing and shoving each other into the waves, laughing like there was nothing wrong with the world.

(Another short one today, but after this, we’ll be getting into some pretty intense stuff, so I wanted one more chapter where all seems to be well in the world!)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom fanfiction #xcom au #xcom the chosen

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rendiggitydog · 5 years

Text

Blast From the Past

The start of a mini-series!

-Chapter 1/7-

The blast from town center sent a shockwave across the whole world, sending the hermits into a frenzy. Almost instantly, the group chat was flooded with messages, and hermits flew from all corners to the scene.

A large crater had appeared in the shopping district, in front of the statues of Tango and Cub. The smoke was still clearing as everyone peered over the edges of the hole.

Xisuma, feeling confident his armor could protect him from possible foreign substances, slid down the sides of the pit, hopping over rocks as he made his way to the center. The smoke began clearing, and a figure could be seen lying in the rubble.

"Hello?" X called cautiously. "Are you alive?"

"I'm real knackered..." The figure sat up slowly, revealing himself to the onlooking group. He sported a big black moustache, with messy back hair that brushed the tops of his ears. His shirt evidently used to be blue, but wasn't anymore, and his jeans weren't much better. His shoes looked nearly worn through on the soles. With wide eyes, he observed the large group watching, and then turned to X. "Where did- how- who are you?"

"My name is Xisuma, what's yours? Where do you hail from?"

"Name's MJ. I think I got too buzzed, this is a wild fever dream..." He glanced at the group peering over the side of the hole, and examined X's armor with skepticism. "You'd think I was a swigger, the things I'm imagining..."

"You aren't imagining anything. This is Hermitcraft! We all live together and have fun. Shall we climb out of this hole, then?"

The pair made their way out of the crater, where Joe met them with a glint in his eye, but a worried expression. "Howdy MJ. It sounds like you're from the 1950's, am I right?"

"Yeah, '51. Ya make it sound like it isn't '51?" MJ wrung his hands.

"No, it's 2019. How bizarre..." X mused.

MJ ran jittery fingers through his hair. "Man, this blows. I don't- and there's- colors everywhere, and- and you're all just like me-"

"I mean, I don't exactly look like you," Doc chuckled.

"Nah, you don't get it. Where I'm from, I'm it. Sometimes ya run into a pig- a creeper if you're unlucky, but that's it. The whole world is grass and trees, as far as the Farlands. It's quiet, being the only one... aware." MJ went quiet, rubbing his arm.

"So you live in a Classic world... How interesting..." X began pacing unconsciously.

"Are you sure it's Classic? He knows creepers, weren't they added in Indev?" Joe quizzed.

"Nope, Classic. Depends on the version, but he probably knows pigs, sheep, zombies, skeletons, spiders and creepers."

MJ nodded at the only words he understood in their conversation. He was still fairly certain he was dreaming.

"Also, he's using 1950's American slang in a British accent- that error was removed in early Indev."

X nodded quickly. "You're right, I forgot about that."

"Can we all get to bed? We don't want phantoms killing MJ, who knows where he would respawn." Scar pulled out a couple beds, which hermits promptly hopped into.

"Phantoms? Why we gotta sleep? Are The Phantoms a gang?" MJ asked quickly as the rest of the hermits led him to the Stax-4-Stax Tavern.

"The longer you go without sleep, the more phantoms spawn, and they're deadly." Grian explained. "When was the last time you slept?"

"....never?" MJ watched the dark sky anxiously.

"Oh yeah... Let's get inside, quick!" Grian shoved him inside. The phantoms screeched, making Grian chuckle and MJ shudder.

—

The next morning, MJ was full of chaos and concern. Now fully rested for the first time in his life, he began to realize his situation. He anxiously danced around the small room of sleeping hermits for a few minutes, before he mustered enough courage to creep out the front door.

There was so much color in this strange world- even the grass looked different from what he knew. His head spun on a swivel as he took in everything he possibly could.

He started low, running his fingers through the long grass and smelling the colorful flowers scattered across the ground in front of the building. A chicken wandered across his path, so he decided to follow it wherever it went.

The chicken, followed by an intent MJ, meandered to the shore by the ocean, which MJ noted, was filled with seaweed and assorted swimming creatures.

As they wandered further inland, MJ drifted away from his chicken guide, stunned by the variety of blocks in the buildings towering around him. He poked his head into a red striped building, but ducked out just as quickly when he couldn't name the shiny blue rocks or cylinders in the wooden boxes.

As he stepped out, however, something shot over his head with a loud explosion, sending him to the floor in a panic. The creepers were in the air, too?

"Heya! Enjoying my store?" A man fell out of the sky holding one of the striped cylinders. His hair was golden and shimmered in the light, along with his bright red eyes. His ears and teeth were pointy, and his combat boots completed the intimidating look. "What are you doing on the ground?"

MJ glanced around carefully, motioning the man to crouch down next to him. "There are creepers flying around here!"

The man gave him a blank stare, then laughed, standing up again. "Oh man, that's priceless! You mean me? Using a rocket to fly?" He pulled out a so-called rocket, and it exploded in his face, sending MJ into another fit of shakes. "It's okay, they're harmless!"

"You can fly?" MJ asked cautiously, afraid the answer might include more explosions.

"Let me show you!" The man crouched down, preparing another rocket, but stopped when he saw MJ's petrified expression. "Well, maybe we should start smaller. How about the Cherry Store?"

The man, who MJ learned was named Tango, lead him patiently to another store, this one made of wood. Wood was more familiar to MJ, although this wood looked entirely different to what he was used to.

"Look, this stuff is called redstone," Tango explained, displaying a nicely packaged bag of redstone, ready to be purchased. "You can make lots of hardware with it, which you can use to make machines!"

MJ opened the bag, running his finger through the red dust. Some of it sparked, glowing slightly. "What can you make with the parts?"

"Well, you can start small with an automatic fish farm, or you can build an iron titan, or you can make something like Sahara! Let me show you, it's super cool!"

Excited again, Tango led the way to Sahara, a large building in the side of the hill. After showing MJ the interface, they staircased up to the second level to get a look at the modules.

"Iskall made all of these himself- crazy, right? Grian tried to help, but he's definitely the builder of the Architechs," Tango laughed.

MJ walked down an aisle, marveling at the large machines. They were made of small parts MJ couldn't name, but he knew they were made of redstone. It was all incredible, but MJ didn't understand a bit of it- he considered himself more of a builder anyway.

"Oi! Trespassers!" Grian, as MJ remembered from yesterday, soared through a broken window. He smoothed his wild sandy-blond hair, a wide grin across his face.

"Don't mind us! I'm just showing MJ around!" Tango waved.

"Oh! You should come see my base, MJ! It's super cool!" Grian bounced excitedly. He had a lot of energy, MJ gave him that. Not usually his cup of tea in friendships, but beggars can't be choosers.

"I'll leave you two to it then! Xisuma wanted me to work on some code with him today anyway. See ya!" Tango flew away with another explosion, causing MJ to jump.

"Hm, I suppose you're not much of a flyer, huh?" Grian observed. MJ simply shook his head. "Guess we'll boat over!"

MJ carefully stepped into the boat Grian made, with Grian clambering in after him. They rowed out into the bay, MJ watching as the shore faded into a shimmer at the horizon. "Here we are!"

MJ turned around and was stunned by the white building towering over them. Grian hopped out of the boat onto a glass bridge, motioning MJ to follow. He carefully did so, being sure his shoes were dry enough that he wouldn't slip.

"This is my base! Sorry it's kind of a mess, I have a chest monster problem," Grian giggled and soared down into the center of the tower. He rifled through a couple of the chests (as MJ had just learned they were called) and flew back to MJ with arms full of mysterious items. "Here's a starter kit!"

Grian tossed the items on the floor and sorted through them, giving MJ a run-down. "So that's full iron tools and armor, a stack of golden carrots, a stack of torches, and an elytra with rockets to get you started! Does that look alright to you?"

MJ nodded, entranced by the items- especially the strange golden carrots.

"...You don't talk much, do you?" Grian stared into his eyes. Despite his brown eyes being almost black, they sparkled with love and innocence.

MJ cleared his throat. "Ah, I guess I'm still feeling a lil buzzed from... however I got here." He shrugged, carefully picking up the gifted items.

Grian opened and closed his mouth several times, and then settled with a confused smile. It looked strange on his usually-energetic face. "Feel free to set up your base anywhere that's open. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to text anyone." He handed a small black box to MJ, which he held with reverence. "It's a phone- just press the name of who ever you wanna talk to."

"Thanks," MJ hesitated. "By chance are you a greaser? You don't have any beef, do ya?"

Grian cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe? You won't need any beef though, the golden carrots are way better for your health."

"...are you booted, dog?"

Grian blinked. "I think you have different slang in Classic, because I don't know what that means..."

"My bad. Just, nevermind. I'll leave ya to it. Thanks for the setup!" MJ, embarrassed, hopped in his boat and paddled off, avoiding eye contact with Grian. The guy was weird to say the least- MJ wondered if that was why he lived in the ocean alone. Hopefully he hadn't killed his reputation by talking to Grian, and he could find a more helpful person tomorrow...

#rae writes #blast from the past #grian #xisuma #hermitcraft #joe hills #docm #goodtimeswithscar #tangotek #mumbo jumbo #dont worry the 50's slang eases up a couple chapters in #lol

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rizandclackers · 5 years

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JoJo Pirate AU

Bruno's gang are pirates, La Squadra will be all mermen. Obstacle to overcome on their great pirate adventure. The basic premise is Bruno's Crew seeks to find the treasure of the fabled Devil's Sea, but have to prepare for the long journey for it is far away and accidentally fish up Formaggio, causing the rest of the group to come after them, even after they release him. And by release, I mean selling him to the fishermen, from whom he escapes.

Bruno’s Pirate Crew

Bruno Buccaneer, Captain

Giorno Gangplank, Doctor

Narancia Gunwale, Master Gunner

Galley Mista, Boatswain

Lucre "Landlubber" Abbacchio, Cook

"Privateer" Fugo, Quartermaster

Lucre "Landlubber" Abbacchio

is the diva of the crew, insists on visiting every single port, to visit 'the ladies'. Mostly to stock up on rum and select vintage of booze for himself that he hides from the captain, and visits 'ladies' to get more makeup to hide exhaustion and stress.

Fugo

refuses to tell people his actual name and is only known as the "Privateer" for his refusal to be called a pirate and trying to do things 'by the book' even if it's a Pirate's one. Calling him a pirate is a no-no...prepare to be drawn and quartered by him if you do.

Galley Mista

spends more of his time eating than fighting and yet still somehow manages to remain fit. Uses firearms exclusively and insists on only wearing red hats, without feathers, however, cause they make him sneeze. Mediocre in melee fights, only carries a small knife to peel apples. Is proud for not needing a large blade to 'compensate' for anything like the rest of his crew, gets along best with Narancia Gunwale the Master Gunner.

Narancia Gunwale

is the gunner of the crew, relatively short and passes for a girl, which the crew uses to lure in ships, by having him pretend to be the only one left on board or stranded on an island in need of a rescue. Doesn't actually like wearing dresses, due to how heavy they are to swim in as he inevitably ends in the water by either trying to escape or being thrown overboard. Has deadly aim with cannons and firearms, but still carries several knives, one in each boot and an extra tucked into his right sleeve. Enjoys Mista's company and they often compete in shooting, though, at times Narancia is better than Mista, when drunk than when both are sober. Mista refuses to admit it.

Bruno Buccaneer

is the captain, but acts more like a parent to his band of misfits. Has several knives stored in small compartments on his clothes, that are all zipped up, but oiled well to avoid making sound. Causing him to have to wash his hands often granting him the nickname "Sticky Fingers." Though no one dares call him that in his presence. Second only to Abbacchio in age, worries his Cook might be purchasing booze for personal use rather than food making, but doesn't know how to approach the subject without upsetting him.

Giorno Gangplank

is the medic on board, though prefers to spend more of his time charming the populace in ports, often swindling and pickpocketing for petty cash, but since he is known for being a doctor, no one believes the victims, for he is polite and well-spoken. Second only to Fugo in terms of education level, but prefers to use his mind for criminal activities rather than bettering himself.

La Squadra Mermen Team

Risotto Mare, tail of an orca.

"Futtock" Formaggio, tail of a leopard shark.

"Pelagic" Pesci, tail of a cookiecutter shark.

"Purser" Prosciutto, tail of a "sleeper shark".

"Marlinspike" Melone, tail of a nurse shark.

"Island" Illuso, tail of a spotted dolphin.

"Growler" Ghiaccio, tail of a white shark.

"Gibbet" Gelato, tail of a tiger shark.

"Scuttle" Sorbet, tail of a thresher shark.

Risotto

as the de facto leader of the group of mermen, has no nickname, likely due to his intimidating aura and no-nonsense attitude. Boasts the largest tail of the lot, and yet is the most stealthy and agile swimmer, likely due to the dark colour scheme. Is strict and ruthless, but just. Has very sharp claws and teeth and will not hesitate to scratch or bodyslam any that challenge him. Prosciutto is the one responsible for making sure the group is fed and equipped for combat, by organizing hunting trips for prey or raiding parties on ports and ships. Has a habit of licking the gap in his teeth, when thinking, but gets annoyed if someone points it out and can get verbal if not violent, depending on the level of mockery.

Pesci

looks up to Prosciutto as a leader, more so than Risotto, and wouldn't mind if he was the captain, but secretly prefers Risotto to remain in charge for as much as he respects Prosciutto, he could never be like him if he were to be given responsibility, but the calm manner in which Risotto solves things appeals to his more gentle nature. Watch out if you insult his hunting skills though. He is the fastest in the group despite being the heaviest and having second to shortest tail. How he does that, no one is sure, but he has no match when it comes to acquiring provisions, which is why he is often following Prosciutto.

Gelato and Sorbet are rarely present, preferring to go on long hunting trips together, the most vicious and aggressive of the group and thus not really missed when they are gone, unless they need a raiding party or extra help for defending their reef. Gelato often being the one to reel in Sorbet's temper tantrums if he was not given his 'fair' share of the loot, especially if it contained shiny things. Sorbet doesn't care about the value, only the gleam of it and hoards metal and glass objects indiscriminately, and has the sharpest claws that he uses to cut through things. Gelato is the most sleek of the group, while Sorbet's tail is covered in scars from multiple scuffles with other mermen or pirates, for he refuses to flee, unless ordered by Risotto himself. Sorbet Holds Prosciutto in contempt for not 'training' Pesci better and for being too obsessed with appearances and keeping the better looking things for himself. Often clashes with him when dividing the loot. Gelato is more mellow and doesn't care much about what he gets as long as he's fed and has at least a hook to stab with.

Illuso

is often sitting on rocks and showing off to passing sailors, luring them in with sweet singing, and looking like a mermaid and then sending shockwaves with his tail should they try sending a rowboat near him, causing it to capsize. Most vain of the group and often fishes for compliments . Refuses to admit he is wrong on anything, but will back down if called out by the leader or Prosciutto, whom he gets along best with, due to mutual appreciation for finer things.

Formaggio

has the shortest tail and is often considered more of a pest than anything, for his insistence on throwing fishing nets on his sleeping comrades as a joke, freaking them out, but being one of the fastest in the group, second only to Ghiaccio in speed, usually gets away with it. Pesci is faster, but too timid to chase him and he doesn't mess with Ghiaccio anyway, for he does not react well to jokes or pranks due to not understanding the point of it all. Is prone to stealing loot from others, and placing it in other mermen's chosen dens to hide him doing it and provoke conflicts.

Ghiaccio

is the second fastest in the group, though believes himself to be the first in speed, but lacks maneuverability of Pesci and is often left behind, when he rushes into obstacles and sometimes knocks himself out. Has a very cynical and dry sense of humour. Does not understand wordplay, takes things too literally and often becomes frustrated when he doesn't get the jokes Formaggio tells. Doesn't really get along with anyone because of his temper, but is generally feared respected well enough to leave him alone. Has the loudest voice and can shatter glass with his siren screech, though is usually silenced by Sorbet if he's around, to avoid him breaking his 'shinies'.

Melone

is the lightest of the group, second only to Gelato in terms of being sleek, though is much better at taking care of his tail, being the only one in the group without any scars. Spends most of his time grooming himself or toying with any swimmers that have strayed too far from the rest. Uses his siren charm to confuse people and make them obey him, by talking to them as if they were a child, giving simple commands that work on a primal, basic understanding. Complicated orders are avoided, due to causing the people to think and break the charm.

Glossary

Buccaneer: Another name for pirate.

Futtock: A curved timber that forms a rib in the frame of a ship. "One o’ the bits yer trip over."

Galley: A low, flat ship with one or more sails and up to three banks of oars, chiefly used for warfare or piracy and often manned by slaves or criminals. Or the kitchen in the ship.

Gangplank: A removable board or ramp used to board a ship from a pier.

Gibbet: Chains or cages in which the rotting corpses of hung pirates are displayed in order to discourage piracy.

Growler: A small iceberg or ice floe which is barely visible above the surface of the water.

Gunwale: Originally the structure was the "gun wale" on a sailing warship, a horizontal reinforcing band added at and above the level of a gun deck to offset the stresses created by firing artillery.

Lucre: Money, especially when regarded as sordid or distasteful or gained in a dishonourable way.

Lubber: An awkward, clumsy, unseamanlike fellow.

Landlubber/Land-lubber: The worst kind of Lubber, one that’s never even been to sea before.

Mare: Italian or Latin for "sea"

Marlinspike: An iron pointed tool used to separate the strands of a rope for splicing.

Pelagic: Living in the open ocean rather than coastal or inland waters, taking place in the open ocean

Privateer: Someone who robs at sea or plunders the land from the sea with letters of marque from a government.

Purser: An officer on a ship responsible for provisions and clothing. Such provisions were often sold to sailors on credit against their next payment which meant the sailors never actually managed to keep any of their money when they were finally paid.

Scuttle: To deliberately sink a ship by making a hole in the hull.

#jojoau #jojo au #jojo pirate au #kyrare #rizandclackers #bruno buccaneer #risotto mare

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islareeveswriting · 5 years

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INSTAS

What you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

Molly thought the concept of that was laughable. It seemed stupid to her that anyone could think something unknown couldn’t hurt them. Maybe that was because Molly hated being in the dark, she’d prefer the truth, even if it was a horrible truth, every day of the week. At least that way, at the very worst she knew what she was facing, and the very best she could put her fears to bed and move on. Things unknown, kept secret, hidden, tended to fester into something much greater and far harder to deal with. Once a secret was kept, it’s not just the facts of the secret, it’s the fact someone kept something from her, felt they couldn’t tell her something, that she had to face.

What Molly didn’t know was killing her emotionally, mentally. And she didn’t even know for certain if there was indeed something she didn’t know. She was running on instinct, on an assumption, but it was hard to ignore when Harry seemed to be making such an effort to avoid contact with her.

It was exactly as it had been before, when they’d returned from her parents house. He’d gone cold, quiet, and Molly was left in the dark wondering what she’d done wrong. If there was a bitterness left in his mouth from her mistakes taking Ryan home and not getting in a taxi, she could understand that, and she’d apologise and explain herself as much as she could, knowing full well the action itself and then not telling Harry about it put her firmly in the wrong. It was proof that what people didn’t know, could indeed hurt them. However, Molly was sure they’d moved on from that, and if it wasn’t the same on his side, all he had to do was say so. But Harry had been normal for days following their argument, things had been back on track, going well, with no signs anything was amiss.

Until everything was amiss, and for no apparent reason. Things had fallen off the track with no warning signs whatsoever and Molly could feel the whiplash of it ricocheting through her mind.

It was infuriating to keep coming back to square one, when Molly was sure they should have been far away from that place. They seemed to be taking it in turns to set fire to themselves before they were fully built and they were left to start from ashes all over again. Everytime Molly thought she was close it was ripped away from her, like the ocean between her and Harry kept getting deeper, wider, and shore much, much further away. But for some reason, she just wanted to keep swimming. There were far more reasons to walk away, his temper, the way he laughed any serious conversation off like it was meaningless until he had no choice but to face it, the darkness in his eyes that he wouldn’t let her into. But Molly couldn’t help herself, she was falling, and no warning signs made her want to stop.

When Molly woke up the morning after ‘girls night’, there hadn’t been a part of her that was intending on acting on Lauren’s words. When Lauren had suggested Molly go round to Harry’s uninvited Molly had literally laughed it off. But over twelve hours later and Molly was spinning back and forth on her desk chair, staring down at her phone seriously contemplating it. It was verging on three pm and she hadn’t heard a word from Harry, despite her reply to his late night text, despite her trying to call when she stopped working to have some lunch, despite the sweet text just checking in he was ok, and the slightly more salty message a few hours later when he still hadn’t contact her the way he’d promised.

There was a little fire that started inside her of, at the sound of his voicemail yet again. It came from anger, or frustration, but by that point the feelings weren’t mutually exclusive, and they felt one in the same. It fueled her up from her chair and out of the door, with nothing but her purse, keys and phone, which she shoved into the pockets of the denim jacket she shrugged on over her hoodie. It pushed her onto the bus, and off at the stop just outside Harry’s building. It drove her all the way to the front door of his block, until she was stood outside with her finger lingering over his doorbell.

There was a moment where she thought about turning around. Harry had told her he was busy and she should respect that. But he’d also told her he’d call first thing, and not only had he failed to do that, he’d failed to answer her calls, or either of her messages, even though she could see he’d read both. Perhaps if they’d spoken, Harry had sorted something out as he’d said he would, she wouldn’t be there. As it was, Molly was feeling let down and in the dark, and perhaps Lauren was right when she’d said that Molly wasn’t being unreasonable to expect a little clarity and honesty.

Molly’s finger was seconds from pressing the buzzer, when a larger than life man pushed the door open, as startled by seeing Molly on the other side as she was by being pulled from her train of thoughts by the door opening before she’d even pressed the button.

��Oh sorry sweetheart didn’t see you there, you going in?” The man asked, his accent far from local.

“Thanks,” Molly whispered, slipping in the door that was being held open for her. Now she was inside, without even having to speak to Harry over the intercom, it felt like the world was telling her to take the steps to his flat, she’d made the right decision. Still there was apprehension in her belly - just because the world thought it was a good idea, didn’t mean Harry would, and Molly was certain there was only two ways this was going to end.

The stairwell was as cold as it was every time Molly had been there. Even as the days were beginning to get longer and the sun warmer, the winding staircase, modern, and clinical, was always cold enough to give Molly goosebumps, even through her hoodie and jacket and the fleece lined leggings she’d been keeping comfortable in at her desk. Even the battered and beaten black combat boots over her thick socks were doing little to nothing in terms of keeping her warm. But perhaps it was more than just the cold making her shiver.

The third floor seemed further away than normal, but Molly got there eventually, Harry’s door, number fifteen glittering over the wood, looking as normal and inconspicuous as ever. There was a peep hole in the door, and Molly swallowed knowing as soon as she knocked on the door, Harry would be able to know she was there, and there was a part of her, growing larger with every second, that wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to do this. Once that door was opened, if it opened, there was no going back. As much as Molly had thought she’d wanted it, she was beginning to wonder if maybe she could carry on living in peaceful ignorance. Though of course, there was nothing peaceful about it at all.

And so she knocked the door. Three gentle taps and a gulping swallow on nothing before she stood patiently with her hands in her pockets, toying with the frayed piece of pink ribbon she had tied to her key ring.

If Harry hesitated at the peephole, he did it quickly, because the door was open in no more than thirty seconds, and Molly was looking up from the scuffed toe of her boots, to someone who was very not Harry. Molly’s breath hitched in her throat at the sight of the dark haired woman. She was a complete stranger to Molly, she’d never seen her before, not even in a photo, not even in passing, but there was something that was vaguely familiar. Molly couldn’t put her finger on it at all, but there was something very slightly recognisable about the woman greeting her at Harry’s door.

“Hi,” The girl grinned, apparently not at all thrown by Molly being on the other side of the door. At least not as thrown as Molly was. Half of her hadn’t expected the door to be answered at all, but the other half certainly didn’t expect someone other than Harry to be answering the door, and Molly’s mind started to tumble unkindly into all the ways he could have been busy enough with this woman to cancel on her last minute and ignore her calls and texts.

“I was erm,” Molly started, swallowing down on nothing. There was nothing lodged in her throat, not even air, as she found she’d been holding her breath waiting for the words to come to her. “Is Harry in?” Molly asked, wrapping her jacket further around her as if it might protect her from something that was aiming for her heart.

“Oh no, he’s just popped out, he’ll be back in like five minutes, come in,” The girl encouraged with a bright grin that might have set Molly on edge if she could have had any clue as to who she was and why she was in Harry’s flat. Her mind was racing, but she was simultaneously trying to rationalise it. She’s just a friend, he might be a dick sometimes but he wouldn’t...would he? The question lingered in her mind for a second, as Molly thought about what she wanted to do.

“It’s ok, I’ll come b-”

“Molly,” The girl interrupted as Molly moved to turn away from the door and take the stairs back away from the flat, not sure where she would exactly go from there, entirely unsure what to think, especially when her name spilled from the girls lips like it had been well rehearsed.

“How do you know my name?” Molly asked, frowning, entirely curious now.

“Because you’re all Harry bloody talks about, and he’s never used social media so much in his life until he had photos of you to put all over it,” The girl chuckled. Molly lightened quickly then, doubts and fears almost, but not quite, eradicated. “I’m Ellie, I’m a friend of Harry’s,” she explained, and Molly lightened yet more with the new information. For all her initial apprehension, Molly found it surprisingly easy to trust Ellie. There was just something about her, something almost sisterly that Molly began to settle into as she stepped over the threshold into Harry’s flat.

It was warmer inside, the underfloor heating was on, Molly could tell, but there was also a window cracked in the kitchen letting some fresh air travel through the space. The TV was on, playing to itself as Molly kicked off her boots and Ellie shut the front door behind them. It was calm, and not at all how Molly had anticipated turning up at Harry’s flat would go.

“Can I get you a drink or anything?” Ellie asked, sliding back into the flat with her socked feet, the white fabric loose on her toes.

“No I’m good thanks,” Molly smiled,following Ellie tentatively through towards the kitchen area. As easy as Ellie was in Molly’s company, it wasn’t entirely mutual. Molly felt better than she had when Ellie first opened the door, but she still didn’t know who this woman was, and it showed in the way Molly didn’t take her jacket off and kept her hands firmly in her pockets. She looked like a stranger in the space, Ellie commanding it easily, taking the lead in this strange little set up they found themselves in, though Ellie didn’t seem fazed by it at all. Where Molly was cautious, Ellie was confident and helped herself to a mug from Harry’s cupboard as if the flat was her own. Ellie was no stranger here, and Molly guessed not a stranger to Harry at all, but Molly hadn’t even heard her name, let alone seen her face before.

There was something a little strange about it, but Molly couldn’t put her finger on it without supposing she sounded as if she thought she were entitled to know about everyone he associated with. It wasn’t that. It was just she doubted any of the friends of Harry’s she had met would let her into his flat, or offer her coffee, grab a mug from his cupboard, and she’d spent a considerable amount of time with those friends. Even received texts from Amanda to see what she was up to, how she was, if she wanted to meet up. Someone who seemed so at home in Harry’s flat, is someone Molly thought Harry might have mentioned. It just pointed to those secrets she was sure she could almost see.

“Are you sure? I was about to make coffee anyway,” Ellie told Molly, nodding at the coffee machine with it’s green go light illuminated. Molly chewed the inside of her mouth. She was beginning to wonder what Harry would think when he got back and she was sat at his kitchen counter with his friend drinking his coffee. Molly swallowed, it didn’t matter.

“Ok, go on then,” Molly smiled again, and Ellie grinned back. The coffee machine whirred to life, spitting out coffee from the spout into one of the two mugs Ellie fetched. Ellie helped herself to milk from the fridge and poured it into the jug that Harry normally kept on top of the machine, though Ellie found it in the dishwasher without even seeming to think it could be anywhere else. She gave it a rinse before she used it, and Molly wondered how many coffees she’d had at Harry’s already that day.

“He won’t be long, I’ll give him a text in a minute, let him know you’re here,” Ellie told Molly as she heated up the milk in the metal jug.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s not expecting me,” Molly informed Ellie, glancing over to her from where she’d been staring out of one of the large kitchen windows.

“Oh, he told me he was seeing you later,” Ellie said with a frown, clearly a little confused, though not as confused as Molly. Molly didn’t know what she’d missed, or misunderstood, but it certainly wasn’t Harry letting her know that he’d be seeing her later.

“He told me he was seeing me today, but he cancelled last night, he also told me he’d call him this morning, but he didn’t, so I’ve given up listening to what he says he’s going to do, and started focusing on what he actually does do.” There was a bitterness in Molly’s voice, she could hear it and it sounded as ugly as it felt, but Ellie simply sighed, a big sigh that lifted her shoulders and let them fall again, heavily. Molly watched her suck one of her cheeks in. Maybe Molly had just insulted this girls friend, but she didn’t look annoyed, at least not annoyed at what Molly had said. In fact she looked disappointed.

“He’s a fucking dick head,” Ellie spat, and Molly felt her eyes go wide. If she’d had coffee in her mouth, she was sure it would have spluttered out thanks to Ellie’s quick, harsh words. “If I’d have known he was meant to be seeing you, I, it’s probably best he explains,” Ellie sighed, turning back to the coffee and pouring the milk into it. “Just make sure he explains, don’t let him laugh it off so you find you’ve forgotten about it,” Ellie warned placing a mug in front of Molly which Molly gladly wrapped her hands around as she smiled to herself.

“He does do that huh?” Molly chuckled before lifting the mug and taking a sip of it.

“All the time,” Ellie laughed. “Some weird defense mechanism,” Ellie shrugged. Molly nodded, rolling her lips together and looking down at her mug. This girl knew him, better than Molly it was clear. Perhaps this was someone he let in just enough so she knew how he kept himself shielded from everyone else, something Molly was still working out. “Harry and I are just very much friends by the way, just to be clear,” Ellie added, quietly, carefully. Molly shot her head up at that.

“Oh no, I didn’t, it’s fine,” Molly babbled quickly shaking her head frantically.

“No I know,” Ellie smiled. “Just there’s nothing, there never has been, well-”

“Heyyy,” Harry’s voice was sweet and sing songy as it rung through the flat behind the sound of the opening door and the sound of wheels on the floor. “We’re back,” he called again, and Molly spun on her stool, just about able to see him through the spaces on the book case, though he couldn’t see her. The push chair was easy to spot and for a minute Molly assumed it was Zak, that was until a pair of toddling feet wobbled around the bookcase and a little girl with blonde hair tied in two little bunches appeared. Molly felt taken back at the surprise of the new child, but just smiled brightly at the little girl staring up at her.

“Hi,” Molly cooed, the little girl having slowed her steps and side walking towards Ellie with an outstretched hand, eyes fixed on the stranger in the room.

“Lolly?” Harry questioned, following after the child with a deep frown on his face. “What are you doing here?” He asked, reaching for the child and lifting her up onto his hip where he started removing her little converse from her feet. Molly didn’t say anything for a second, just stared up at Harry from her seat as he stared back at her.

“She came to see you after you forgot to call this morning,” Ellie explained for Molly who was chewing her lip, watching the child grabbing at Harry’s ringlets, the thumb of her free hand finding her mouth as she continued to stare at Molly trying to work her out. Molly raised her eyes to Harry and she saw him sink, his forehead uncreasing quickly and his eyes closing for a few seconds. There was an apology on his tongue, Molly could almost hear it, but it didn’t find air, just lodged in his throat, as he decided to save it for later when they were alone. “Lola baby, this is Molly, Uncle Harry’s friend, you gonna say hi?” Ellie tried, seemingly attempting to loosen the atmosphere.

“Hi Lola,” Molly grinned, eyes back on the blonde haired little girl who couldn’t have been much over three, but Molly had never been good at guessing ages.

“Hi,” Lola mumbled around her thumb, the words clipped and not fully formed. She had the biggest doe eyes Molly could imagine, bright green and glistening in the lights of the kitchen as she continued to stare back at Molly. “M’ Lola,” Lola babbled, her thumb popping from her mouth and her hand resting by her thigh that was hooked up in Harry’s arms.

“This is Lolly,” Harry started edging closer to Molly, head twisted to look at Lola. “Lolly’s my friend, do you want to sit with her while me and Mummy get your things together?” Harry’s voice was sweeter than normal, a little higher and softer, somehow slower though Molly didn’t know how that was possible. Lola nodded and reached out for Molly, who looked to Harry with wide eyes not entirely sure how to take what was happening. Harry just nodded, a soft, somehow reassuring, smile on his face. Molly took the child from Harry resting her on his lap and looking over her blonde head to see Harry motioning for Ellie to follow him. They headed up the hallway towards Harry’s open bedroom, but the door almost closed behind them. Molly swallowed and look down at the child who was looking up at her with her thumb back in her mouth.

“You’ve been with Uncle Harry today then?” Molly asked spinning a little and placing Lola up on the work top, hands knitting together behind her to stop her moving away or falling from the edge. Lola nodded, her eyes somehow widening. “Did you have fun?” Again Lola just nodded and Molly giggled. “What did you do?”

“Went to park, and for ice cream,” Lola told Molly, looking around the room a little as she did so. The words weren’t full, syllables missing here and there, but Molly could make out the words just fine.

“Wow that sounds fun.” Molly’s voice trailed off, both her and Lola distracted by the sudden raised voices from the bedroom. “So what ice cream did you get?” Molly asked, trying to grab Lola’s attention again, but it was futile. Lola’s big green eyes were fixed on the bedroom door and her mind on the noise.

“Why they shouting?” Lola asked, eyebrows dipping a little.

“I’m not sure, maybe they can’t find something,” Molly suggested quickly, not quite sure what to say, she didn’t have the answer, and the things in her head didn’t concern Lola.

“Just tell her the truth Harry for fucks sake.”It was Ellie’s voice that called the final blow, and where before they’d been hushed, attempting to not be heard but failing, Ellie’s words were loud and clear, ricocheting around the flat like bullets sent straight for Molly. Molly felt herself tighten, her spine lengthening and shoulders rolling back, as her eyes shot to Lola. It didn’t appear that she noticed the swear word particularly, but the tone had clearly registered with her little ears and her fingers lifted to her mouth, resting on her pillowy bottom lip as her eyes blinked quickly.

“Hey, Lola, what ice cream did you have?” Molly asked brightly, picking the child back up and placing her on her knee where she bounced Lola quickly, trying to distract her from what was going on in the bedroom.

“Mummy shouting at Uncle Harry?” Lola asked quietly, lip literally and visibly trembling. Molly swallowed, not sure what to say. Could she lie? Was there any point when Lola clearly knew the answer? “Why?” Lola asked, obviously seeing the truth in Molly’s face.

“I’m not sure hunny, I’m sure you don’t need to worry,” Molly smiled, trying to catch Lola’s eyes but she was looking out of the side of her eye back at the door.

“Mummy used bad words,” Lola mumbled over her fingers again.

“It’s ok, I’m sure she didn’t mean to, hey, why don’t you tell me about the park, did you go on the swings?” Molly tried again, but the toddler was completely distracted. “Come on look, shall we see if we can find something on the TV?” Molly suggested standing up and resting Lola on her hip as she did so. Lola finally looked away from the door, moving slightly to rest her head on Molly’s shoulder, her small chubby hand finding Molly’s hair and twisting it slowly around her fingers. Molly sighed quietly, looking down awkwardly to the little girl sucking her thumb and lost in her head, reminding Molly of herself as a child, and even now. Molly didn’t think anything of pressing a little kiss against Lola’s soft blonde hair before she began flicking through channels.

Before Molly could find anything though, the bedroom door was opening. Molly turned to the noise to find Ellie heading back towards her. For the tone of her voice she looked calm, and she smiled sweetly at Molly as they caught eyes.

“Sorry,” Ellie said with a shrug. “We have to go home now Lola, you gonna say goodbye to Lolly?” Ellie asked, as Molly gently handed Lola over to her mother. Lola sat up more in Ellie’s arms, looking back at Molly over her shoulder.

“Bye Lola, I’ll see you soon,” Molly grinned, bending a little to catch Lola’s eyes.

“Buh-bye Lolly, see you soon,” Lola grinned happily before turning back to look at her mum.

“See you Molly, thanks for watching her then,” Ellie said, backing out of the room towards the entrance way and Lola’s pram. “If you have any questions, just get my number of someone and give me a call,” Ellie offered quietly. It took Molly a little by surprise and she found herself blinking quickly as Ellie left the room finally, Molly watching after her dumbfounded. Questions? Molly wondered, why would she have questions? What would she have questions about? It set her heart of racing, and she wanted to chase Ellie out of the room ask what she meant, but she could hear the response before she’d even asked. Ask Harry, talk to Harry about it, he needs to tell you. The real question was if he would actually tell her, or pretend like it was nothing, and tell her that Ellie was just being over dramatic about something that was nothing, just like he’d done when Katie had told her Harry liked to lead people on, that she should be careful, made out like Harry wasn’t good enough.

“Mummy, don’t shout at Uncle Harry, make him said,” Molly heard Lola tell her mother as she was clipped into her pram, but Ellie didn’t say anything, just shouted a goodbye into the flat that was followed quickly by the sound of the door opening and closing.

The flat fell silent and so did Molly. She took a seat on the sofa and fell back into it heavily, resting her head on the back of it and looking up at the flat white ceiling. The lights weren’t on up there, and the lamp in the corner cast an odd shadow across it. It was coasting into early evening and the sun was just beginning to lower, turning the sky a deep orange that filtered through the windows and stained everything a similar vibrant hue. Molly closed her eyes to it all and focused on her mind.

What she was supposed to think she didn’t know, but what she was thinking was that maybe she was in well over her depth with Harry. Perhaps there’d always be more to him than she could understand, and maybe she wasn’t as adept to coping with that as she’d like to think. It wasn’t even that she wanted everything from him, just an admission there was indeed something. Molly could understand if he wasn’t ready to open up and tell her all the things about himself that he’d been practicing so hard at keeping closed off, that was fine. What she couldn’t understand was pretending what she saw was what she was going get, because with each day it became clearer that might never be the case. There was never ending layers to Harry, and with each step closer to him she got, all she really discovered was another layer encasing him that Harry refused to admit, at least out loud, was there.

It wasn’t as if Molly hadn’t given Harry chances to tell her there were things about him he wasn’t ready to talk about, it wasn’t as if circumstances had kept him from telling her that, it was only himself that had chosen to make it into something else, to pretend there was nothing to him she didn’t already know. When Molly had met Harry he’d seemed so confident and self-assured, but she was beginning to think that was just a mask for someone insecure and afraid of themselves. Someone who didn’t know how to process someone else getting close to them. All his mood swings, his outbursts, his cocky, smug attitude, appeared like a coping mechanism for the fear of letting someone in, and putting a dent in his armour.

Molly was more than willing to be patient for him, if he was willing to at least admit there was something to be patient for, admit there was more than the exterior shell he let the world see, admit there was a softness, a weakness, an achilles heel to the faultless Harry he portrayed day in, day out.

Molly opened her eyes again at the sound of footsteps and twisted her head in the direction of Harry’s room. Their eyes met as he headed towards her slowly, socked feet almost sliding along the floor. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the long curls away from his face, his eyes dropping to his feet and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. The silence persisted, Molly refusing to say a word until he did. Perhaps it seemed stubborn, bitter or petty, but Molly didn’t want to say a word and give him an escape route through what she had to say. She wanted to hear his words, standing alone for what they were.

“I’m sorry,” Harry started carefully, quietly, hesitating at the edge of the living space. He held his hands in front of him, wrapped together pulling at this fingers. Molly didn’t say anything, just looked up at him, turning a little on the couch so she could see him without craning her neck. “For letting you down, and for not calling, and for…” Harry continued, but hesitated for a second, “that,” He finished, flicking his head back towards the bedroom door that he’d left ajar.

“What was that?” Molly asked. She saw Harry’s throat twitch, the lump in his neck bobbing under the skin as he stepped a little closer, his thighs resting against the arm of his sofa.

“Lola’s my god daughter,” Harry told Molly confidently, holding himself tall, his words laced with conviction, making himself look as strong as possible even if he was feeling weaker. Again he swallowed on nothing, flicking his tongue over his lips. “Ellie is an old friend, she called last night to ask if I could watch Lola today for a bit, I hardly get to see her so I said yes without really thinking,” Harry explained calmly, though there was a slight shiver in his voice.

“Hardly get to see her? It looks like she adores you?” Molly pointed out, finding it difficult to forget how easily Lola had rested in Harry’s arms, and how comfortable and content she’d looked resting on his hip and toying with his hair. Harry cleared his throat quietly before continuing again, looking past Molly to the window for a second, seemingly checking over his words. Molly wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t say anything, he was talking, and that was something.

“It’s fairly new is more what I mean,” Harry added. “Ellie and I, we, well uh, we don’t exactly know each other for the best reasons,” Harry tried, scratching the back of his neck as he did so.

“What do you mean?” Molly asked, turning fully to Harry and pulling her knees up into her chest, her feet finding a home under one of the cushions that had fallen from its perch when she’d taken her seat.

“Really?” Harry winced. Molly just nodded, and Harry sighed, rounding the edge of the couch and taking a seat on the coffee table opposite Molly. She turned again to face him, still holding her knees against herself. He made it sound like Molly might not be sure she wanted to hear what he had to say, but really it was him that wasn’t sure he wanted to say it. The thing was once he let her in, took of some of the armour, it was easy for the rest to fall away, and far harder to put it back on, to ask to her leave again, to shut the door after her and pretend like the space hadn’t changed for her existing in it. Once he said it, he couldn’t un say it. “Ellie and I used to,” Harry hesitated again, looking to the ceiling, perhaps for some divine inspiration, but more likely just the best word for what it was that had happened. “Fool around,” he settled on; “years ago, years and years ago, it was nothing, stupid, at least for me, but I was a dick to her, next thing I know she’s having a baby and doesn’t want me anywhere near her, not that I blame her for that, but over the last couple of years we’ve gotten close again, both grown up a lot, we were close friends before we started, y’know, and I guess we’re in that place again so she asked me to be Lola’s godfather,” Harry explained quickly, the words reeling out of him as if he were reading his favourite story.

“Why would you not just tell me that rather than say ‘something’ had come up, I would have understood,” Molly promised, staring back at his face, a picture of regret. As he sighed his whole body moved with it, shoulders rising and falling, his lips pinching between his teeth.

“I don’t know,” Harry breathed, shaking his head and looking down at his clasped together hands, the rings making them look even bigger and bulkier than they were.

“Cause you wanted to keep me at arms length,” Molly told him with a flick of her eyebrows. Harry’s face fell instantly, a deep frown creasing his brow, his lips pouting a little more than normal and parting just slightly, just enough to let air pass, as he contemplated what Molly had said. Though he could clearly make no sense of it, as if he didn’t even know he’d been doing it.

“Huh?” He asked, his lips barely moving at all, the almost word pushing past almost unnoticed.

“It’s what you do, keep me at a distance until you’re forced to let me in,” Molly told him with a certainty she hated. She didn’t want to feel like that, she didn’t want it to be that obvious to her, but it was, and it hurt her just as much as it clearly hurt Harry, dropping his head again, curls falling over his shoulders and hovering in mid air around him.

“It’s not like that,” Harry mumbled down to his feet.

“How is it then? Because I’m really struggling to see it any other way,” Molly informed him, dropping her knees to sit cross legged.

“Ellie has only just let me into Lola’s life, she could take her away again at any moment, I…”

“Think I could be the reason she might do that?” Molly offered for him, quietly, a little saddened by the idea.

“No, no, not at all,” Harry corrected quickly moving closer to Molly his hands reaching out for her, but never quite finding her. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” Harry sighed, shaking his head and falling back from Molly again. “I don’t have a real reason for not telling you the truth, apart from I’m just used to keeping people at a distance,” Harry guessed with a shrug. If it was anything he’d ever paid any sort of mind to, he wasn’t showing it. It appeared like he was learning as much as Molly, like it was all intrinsic to him, like it was all wired into him.

“Why?” Molly asked, finding the bravery to do so somewhere deep inside. Her voice was quiet, barely audible above the constant hum of the world, but her eyes never left Harry. Harry sucked his cheeks in, beginning to chew on them as he looked back at Molly, looking for something, but Molly couldn’t tell what. Maybe the part of her he could trust, or maybe looking for parts he couldn’t, reasons not to say another word, not to let another piece of armour fall.

“Cause people I let in have a tendency to fuck off,” Harry told Molly bluntly, with a nonchalant shrug that suggested that what he was saying didn’t hurt as much as it clearly did. Molly sighed and moved forward to sit as a mirror of Harry, bending over, resting her arms on her knees and clasping her hands together so her first nearly bumped Harry’s.

“I’m not going to fuck off, the only reason I’m going to go anywhere is if you keep shutting me out all the time, or if you ask me too,” Molly promised him, holding his eyes as she said it. He stared straight back at her, his eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. He swallowed it down, literally, the corner of his mouth twitching just a touch.

“I’m not going to ask you to fuck off,” Harry sort of whispered, unclasping his hands to wrap them around hers. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,” He told her, giving her hands, how cirlcled up in his, a gentle squeeze.

“Then can you start letting me in, cause I feel like I don’t even know you sometimes, everytime I think I’ve got you figured out it ends up like this,” Molly lamented twisting their hands a little so one of hers was on the outside of one of his, her thumb gently sliding back and forth along the the ridge of his hand.

“I’m sorry, I am trying,” Harry told her.

“I know,” Molly nodded, offering a gentle, almost one sided, smile. It didn’t seem enough for Harry though, who looked down at the hands and turned his mouth down, bottom lip jutting out before he twisted his mouth to one side.

“I’m sorry for letting you down today,” Harry said, lifting his eyes just slightly to look at her again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Molly told him with a shake of her head.

“No it does, I should have told Ellie no,” Harry decided. Molly didn’t begrudge him now she knew the truth of it, she didn’t hold it against him, wanting to spend time with his goddaughter, it was fine. It just would have been nice to have been told that. There would have been no stopping them rearranging to do the fitting in the evening, if he’d only explained.

“Does Ellie have a key?” Molly asked not really sure where it had come from exactly, but knowing there was something tickling in her mind, and sure it would come back to her later if she wasn’t to ask then.

“What? No,” Harry answered, a little befuddled by the question.

“Oh, she was here when I got here,” Molly told Harry, hoping she wasn’t appearing as if what she was saying was coming from a place of mistrust or jealousy.

“There’s a spare under the mat, I told her to let herself in if she got here before we were home,” Harry explained, and Molly took one long, slow nod. “You are more than welcome to use it whenever you want,” Harry told Molly, and it wasn’t a second thought, he was simply letting her know, but Molly shook her head at that. “Why not?” Harry asked, back to confused and unsure again.

“I’m not just gonna let myself into your flat Harry,” Molly told him.

“I’d like you to,” Harry tried with a shrug.

“No,” Molly told him finally. Harry huffed and sat up straighter his hands trailing away from Molly’s. The change was instant, and she could feel the pull of that dreaded square one again, with the same minimal warning signs as ever. Molly sat up as well, her eyebrows dropping a little with the sudden change of pace.

“Thought you wanted me to let you in,” Harry huffed, folding his arms across himself both defensively and immaturely.

“Yeah you let me in, not let myself in,” Molly returned with the tiniest drop of venom.

“Is there a difference?” Harry quizzed with a flick of his eyebrows and a near sarcastic tone in his voice.

“Telling me I can let myself into your flat is not opening up to me,” Molly pointed out. Of course Harry was trying to patch things up, but being told she could use the spare key under his mat wasn’t what Molly wanted, even though it was a sweet gesture. She just wanted a little clarity, to not feel like she was paddling against the tide for a change, like she was drowning in all the possible things he wasn’t saying.

“Ok, so what do you want to know?” Harry asked with a sigh, holding his hands up, as if surrendering, giving up, hopefully realising how little of being kept in the darkness Molly could take, that he really did have to start letting her in, little bit at a time if he wanted her to stay. Molly wanted it to be on his terms, if he wasn’t ready, telling her he wasn’t ready would be enough. But then he had asked, so she took the first step into the unknown.

“How old were you when you left Manchester?” Molly asked gently.

“Fifteen,” Harry told her with a curt nod.

“Why?” Molly went on, pulling her legs back up underneath her, crossing them, and letting her hands fall into her lap. Harry nodded, and looked away for a second, swallowing on nothing. “If you’re not ready, tell me you’re not ready, but don’t tell me just because, or laugh it off, please,” Molly begged. If it seemed unreasonable, she didn’t mean it too, but if she wanted him to be honest, she had to be honest about how she was feeling too. Harry nodded, understanding, and finding her eyes again.

“After my dad died my mum kept coming down so we could see Nan,” Harry started, his voice rougher around the edges than Molly was used to. “I think Nan wanted to keep us close after Dad passed, I was a handful, went off the rails a bit after dad, I suppose that’s normal,” Molly nodded because she supposed it was too, not that she could say for certain of course. “Got in with the wrong crowd that kind of thing, I’ve always been told I was going to be staying with Nan for a weekend so mum could have a bit of a break, but when she left me at Nans that day that was the last time I saw her or Ida,” Harry finished finally, biting his jaw together and his throat clenching hard.

“Your sister?” Molly asked to be sure, and Harry nodded again. “And you were fifteen?” Again Harry nodded. He couldn’t look at Molly, he was trying to, but whenever he got close he just dropped his eyes an inch or two, looking at the rounds of her cheek and the natural rosiness of them. “Did you ever try to find her?” Molly asked, starting to chew on her bottom lip not quite sure where the line was but hoping Harry would make it known when she got close.

“Yeah, a few years ago I had a go, but I gave up, don’t think she wants to be found,” Harry told Molly, and she could hear it was the truth in the tone of his voice, and see it in his eyes.

“What about your sister?” Molly went on, cautiously.

“No idea, couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere, Nan reckons they might have gone to the states, apparently mum always spoke about going but dad didn’t want to leave the family,” Harry explained, and Molly just nodded, taking it all in and appreciating every word like it was gold dust.

“If she came to find you…?” Molly hinted carefully, not sure how that would be taken, not sure if it was even something Harry had contemplated.

“I’d ask for an explanation,” Harry started, and at last he found Molly’s eyes, with confidence, telling her it was something he’d thought about, maybe even imagined, and probably more than once. “I’d have a conversation, but I don’t know if I’d want her back in my life properly, maybe Ida because none of it was her fault, but mum, I’m not sure,” Harry admitted without hesitation or regret.

“You know none of it’s your fault either don’t you?” Molly wondered out loud, eyes narrowing. Harry shrugged, lips pouting and eyes looking away again. “It’s not, your mum decided to leave you, it’s not your fault,” Molly assured.

“You don’t know that,” Harry pointed out, his words mumbled staring down at his knees. Molly supposed that was true, but still she couldn’t believe it could be the case.

“Why would it be your fault?” Molly asked. Harry shrugged again, sucking his cheek into his mouth, avoiding eye contact at all cost. “Harry,” Molly whispered, moving forward and taking one of his hands in hers, wrapping her fingers between his and clutching him tightly. Harry didn’t look at her, just glanced at their hands, before he started talking.

“I just always thought the way I acted, treated her, like it was her fault dad died, some of the things I did, and don’t ask cause you don’t need to know, and I’m not ready to talk about it, it makes no odds, it was just stupid teenage shit, might have pushed her away.” Molly saw it was hard for him to say, and she appreciated him telling her he wasn’t ready, as much as the rest of it. It was honest, and that’s what she wanted, more than she wanted to know what had happened, more than she wanted to know about his past, and what made him how he was, she wanted his honesty.

“But she took the final steps Harry,” Molly reminded him quietly. Harry didn’t react at all, so Molly carried on, because she couldn’t just sit there and have him think it was his fault, or that letting her in would end the same way, that caring about her, would end with him broken, alone, confused, and hurting. “Don’t blame yourself,” Molly begged, “if this is what it’s about, if you’re scared of pushing me away because of some mistakes you’ve made or whatever, you won’t, as long as you’re honest with me, about things, and you don’t keep shutting me out, I’m not going anywhere,” Molly promised him and she meant it, because she couldn’t see herself walking away. For every part of her that got frustrated at him, there were far more parts, far bigger parts, finding themselves caring about him, loving him even.

“I don’t need you to tell me everything if you’re not ready that’s fine, but don’t pretend there’s nothing to say just tell me you’re not ready, just be honest with me, that’s all I’m asking.” Harry pulled Molly closer with that, up from the couch onto his lap. She took a seat there, on his thighs and let him pull her close. Her head rested on his shoulder and he buried himself into her neck, letting out a long shaky breath into her skin, that left him limp, but still holding her tight, with all the little pieces of his broken, mending heart.

A/N Happy Friday everyone! Hope you enjoy this one. AT LAST some answers, by are they actually the answers? WHO KNOW!?

Let me know what you think, and have a lovely weekend <3

#dive #harry styles au #harry styles fan fic #1dff #harry styles #hs fan fic #harry fluff #harry angst #harry and kids #LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS #and your theories #and you feelings #come talk to me about it

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ellymunro-blog · 5 years

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Hello everybody! The name’s Cat (or Speedy... I answer to both). I’m 25, cisfemale, and from the EST timezone. I’ve recently just started a new job; and I’m also still recovering from a surgery I had last month. So I will apologize in advance if my activity isn’t the greatest. I promise it’ll pick up once my life becomes less hectic...

Anyway, I bring to you my little weirdo Ellis “Elly” Munro. She’s a modified version of a character I’ve played in a few groups before; so I’m interested in seeing how Crownsville Elly turns out. This RP honestly looks so great; and I can’t wait to start plotting with y’all!

[ willa holland, twenty-three, cisfemale, she/her ] — hey, I just saw [ ellis “elly” munro ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ two years ], and you can catch them around town working as a [sales associate at shazam comics ]. I hear they’re known to be [ loyal & determined ] and [ stubborn & cynical ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ sushi rolls, piles of comic books, extra large cups of coffee, movie theatres, bruised knuckles, hospital bracelets ].

Backstory (trigger warning: mentions of chronic illness)

Ellis Amalia-Rose Munro, more commonly known as Elly, was born and raised in Los Angeles (Hollywood), California to an up-and-coming thriller screenwriter/director and his trophy wife. She was their second child, having a brother roughly thirteen years older.

Growing up, her family was well-off due to her father’s success with many of his films. He was, by no means, a household name as far as filmmakers went; but for fans of thrillers, most knew at least a good handful of his work (think of him like Shyamalan only not quite as popular).

She actually had a tendency to have a small role in every single one of her father’s films. This continued up until she moved away for college.

At the age of 3, she was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. She had faced multiple lung infections as well as poor weight gain for her first few years of life, thus leading to the diagnosis.

Her CF has always been well managed. It’s not something she ever let get in her way. She was always the very rambunctious and active child, just sometimes needing to take more breaks than others.

She was also a child model from the ages of 7-11. An agent had seen her in one of her father’s films and reached out. She was compliant for a few years; but modeling just was never really her thing.

Her mother is from Chelsea, London; and she grew up visiting her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins there every summer. London is one of her favorite places to go; and she’s quite proud of her British heritage.

At a young age, she was introduced to the world of comics and superheroes; and she was hooked from the start. She used to pretend she was a superhero, running around her house dressed like her favorites and wishing she had superpowers.

Due to her love of comics and superheroes, her parents thought it would be a good idea to get her involved in activities that would allow her to “train to be a superhero”. They signed her up for martial arts (she’s now a 4x blackbelt) and gymnastics. This way, she could use her imagination and stay in shape.

As the years went on, fencing and archery were added to Elly’s list of activities. And as soon as she learned what it was, she took up parkour as well. And out of everything she’s done, parkour has forever been her favorite.

She was actually once scouted for the Olympic archery team; and her coach kept encouraging her to train for a goal of the Olympics. But she never had any interest. To her, archery was just a hobby and nothing more.

After high school, she decided to go across the country for college; and wanting to stay in an area with warmer weather (she hates the cold/snow), she decided on attending the University of Miami as a psychology major.

While attending the University of Miami, she initially had no desire to end up on Greek Row. But she ultimately ended up pledging for and joining a sorority (Chi Omega) during her time at the college.

Loving the east coast, she figured she’d want to stay in Miami or go elsewhere in Florida upon graduation (or not as she only finished three years of school); but she somehow ended up settling in the small town of Crownsville, Georgia. She’d gone home over the holidays with a friend who lived there; and she just felt drawn to the town.

That was a little over two years ago. Elly’s been in Crownsville pretty much ever since. She’s started making a life for herself here. She’s gotten a job working as a sales associate at Shazam Comics; and she’s also gotten herself a little apartment downtown. And while she often does miss California and her family, she’s started to become really happy in small town Georgia.

When it comes to her CF, she’s always been one to not feel the need to hide it. She’s been like this since she was little; and even now, she doesn’t feel the need to hide. It’s not something she tells everything; but she’s okay with people knowing she’s sick.

Another important thing about Elly is the fact she’s training to hopefully make it on to American Ninja Warrior. She fell in love with the show when she first saw it several years back; and given her hobbies, she’s always felt like she was a good candidate. She has yet to try out; but her plan is to try out this upcoming season.

Recently, however, her health has started to decline. Her lung function is now in the yellow; and it’s really scared her. She’s started to wonder if she should give up on her American Ninja Warrior dream in favor of her health. Her fall back plan is to open her own archery school or maybe get back into acting.

Likes: comic books, superheroes, coffee, sushi, movies, parkour, archery, katanas, tattoos, cosplaying, video games, flannel, hoodies, beanies, combat boots, avocados, star wars, workouts, roses, kingdom hearts, stitch, stuffed animals, british sweets, funkos, motorcycles, skateboarding, jolly ranchers, american ninja warrior, bdsm

Dislikes: hospitals, swimming, cold weather, snow/ice, kale, cats, needles, alcohol, energy drinks, high heels

Misc. Facts

Her parents almost named her Ellis Isla; but they opted not to due to the fact it sounded too close to Ellis Island.

She has 4 blackbelts (karate, taekwondo, jiujitsu, krav maga); so don’t piss her off.

She can swim; but she’s honestly not a fan of water. Despite growing up in California, she doesn’t like the ocean.

She doesn’t like the taste of alcohol; so she doesn’t drink. If you ever see her drinking, she’s probably in a really bad place.

She can do a spot-on impression of Aqua from Kingdom Hearts and a pretty decent impression of Stitch.

She loves stuffed animals. Her bed is covered in them. Her favorites are Batbear, Stitch, Toad, and a sushi roll with a face. Batbear is like her security blanket.

She does have her driver’s license; but she doesn’t have a car in Crownsville. She has her red Ducati; but Uber is still her preferred mode of transportation.

She was born a month and a half prematurely. Her due date was February 14th.

Because of her CF, she has a feeding tube (g-tube) that’s normally hidden under her clothing. She also does several daily treatments (nebulizers, vibrating vest) to combat her symptoms as well as takes pancreatic enzymes before each meal.

She wears a medical ID bracelet that states she has CF and that she’s allergic to latex, penicillin, and prednisone. It’s not noticeable as an ID bracelet unless one really looks at it.

She has saved two people from getting hit by cars by pushing them out of the way and taking their place. The first time, she was 15. The second time, she was 23.

[trigger warning] She is actually unable to have children of her own; but she doesn’t actually know this yet. could be potential plot-line if anyone is ever interested

Wanted Connections

Older Brother — This is pretty self explanatory. Elly has an older brother; and this connection is for him. I picture him being roughly ten years older than she is (give or take a few years) and being in Crownsville for reasons UTP. His faceclaim and name are also UTP (though I gotta admit my bias towards Stephen Amell or Colin Donnell FCs). OPEN (0/1)

Father — Elly’s father is a thriller screenwriter and director by the name of Chandler Munro. I think it might be cool if he showed up in Crownsville for whatever reason. He could be filming a movie in the small town or just coming to catch up with his children. I would like his FC to be John Barrowman; though I am open to discuss others. OPEN (0/1)

Extended Family — Maybe for some reason, one of Elly’s extended family members (most likely a cousin from England) comes to visit her in Crownsville and ends up staying for awhile. OPEN (0/?)

College Friend — This connection is for the friend with whom Elly went home for the holidays with one year while attending the University of Miami. This friend lived in Crownsville and is part of the reason Elly lives there now. Everything about this friend is UTP: name, age, gender, faceclaim, etc. I’m not picky; though I would love for them to have stayed friends. TAKEN (1/1)

Childhood Friends — This is for any friends of Elly’s from back when she lived in Los Angeles. She could’ve known them back in elementary, middle, or high school. They could’ve lost touch and then met up again in Crownsville or stayed friends since they first met. OPEN (0/?)

Roommate — Upon first coming to Crownsville, Elly got herself a decent sized apartment downtown. I would love for her to have a roommate she shares this apartment (and its rent) with. TAKEN (1/1)

Ex-Roommate — This was a previous roommate of Elly’s. This individual stopped being her roommate for reasons open to discussion. OPEN (0/2)

Ride or Die — Give me a ride or die bestie for Elly please. I have no preference for gender, age, how they met... Everything would be discussed upon inquiry. I just want her to have that one person she’d do anything for. OPEN (1/2)

Nurse Friend(s) — Elly is kind of a wild one. With her hobbies and desire to be on American Ninja Warrior, she has quite the tendency to get injured. She could definitely use some friends with medical training to help her out from time to time. OPEN (1/?)

Doctors — Since Elly has CF, she does spend a good amount of time at doctors offices. This connection would be for any of the doctors who treat her; though I mostly would love to see her pulmonologist. OPEN (0/?)·

Red Band Society — This is for anyone else dealing with any type of medical condition. Elly and these individuals have formed a sort of support system for one another. OPEN (1/?)

Ex-Boyfriend(s) — Again, this is super self explanatory. Elly and this guy (or guys if I decide to make her have more than one ex) used to date. And now they’re not. Why they broke up and all the details of their relationship would be discussed upon inquiry. They could either be total enemies now or still be cordial. OPEN (0/3)

Friends With Benefits — I feel like most of my wanted connections are self explanatory. This is your standard friends with benefits connection and plotline. It could have the potential to turn into something or just stay FWB. OPEN (1/2)

Straight Until Prove Bi — As of now, Elly identifies as straight; but I am not against her having an experience with another girl. OPEN (0/1)

Future Love Interest — Self explanatory. At some point in the future, Elly is gonna end up in another relationship. This is mostly open to males; but I would not object to a female if the chemistry was there. OPEN (0/1)

Workout/Sparring Buddies — Elly spends a lot of her free time working out; and it’d be great for her to have someone she can work out with. Whether it be at the gym, while kickboxing, or even while doing parkour, a friend can make a workout so much less boring and routine. OPEN (0/?)

Stylist — Elly has been very much a tomboy since she was small. This connection would be for the individual in Crownsville who attempts to give her a makeover and make her more “girly”. TAKEN (1/1)

Tattoo Artist — Elly loves tattoos and is working on obtaining quite the collection. This individual is the one who has done most of hers and is the one she’d go back to when she’s ready to get her next tattoo. OPEN (0/2)

Fans of Chandler Munro — Like stated in her little backstory, Elly’s father (Chandler Munro) is a thriller movie director and screenwriter. I’d like if there was someone who was a big fan of her father’s films and tried to use Elly to get autographs, spoilers of upcoming movies, a small role in an upcoming movie, etc. OPEN (0/?)

General Friends, Frienemies, Co-Workers, Neighbors, etc.

More to come...

click here for Elly’s stats page

#crownsvilleintro #like this and i'll come to you or #message me for plotting :)#i am super excited to be here!!!

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the-tendo-blog · 6 years

Text

Curse of the enchanted arrow - henry danger mythology au

So this right here is a nice little oneshot for this au, and I’m REALLY proud of the results! I’m sorry it’s so long, though.

H*nray shippers don’t interact I don’t have a banner for that shit

Word count: 4420

Rating: PG-13?

Warnings: towards the end there’s pretty violent fight scene and some super light gore, and a quick scene with body horror right before it

"You see our enemies on that crystal screen, my friends?" Ray asked, slamming his cup down. "I pity them. They were brought here with more combat expertise than anyone here could hope to have. They outnumber us six to one. They're fast and they're mean. Every single one of them will be dead by sunset. They think we're demons with swellview wrapped around our finger. They think they can wipe us out. However, they couldn't be more wrong. You see, my friends. They are no soldiers. They live a sheltered life in Their leader's hideout. While they sit sunning their wretched hides in calm meadows, we fight unspeakable horrors in the harshest conditions, protecting the land of swellview with our lives! Our suffering is our strength, let's show them the unbreakable fighting spirit of captain man and kid danger! Shred their bodies with a storm of lead! Rip out their organs with your swords! Crush their pathetic skulls with your iron boots! SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!"

"Calm down, Ray. It's just dr. Minyak with an army of weird magic rats." Henry brought his friend back to reality, all nine of his orange tinted fox tails curled around himself as he sat on the ground.

"Oh, so I can't give a pep talk?" Ray replied, crossing his arms and curling his scorpion tail.

"No, just maybe you should save your big dramatic speeches for murderous shapeshifters and pissed off dragons." Henry said, Grinning a little. "We could definitely use it more then."

"Whatever." Ray said as he got to his feet, two massive scorpion claws on the front of his body helping him up. "Let's go stop minyak and his army of 'magic rats', as kitsune boy here calls them." He said as he made air quotes.

"Sorry, scorpion man. I have a big test tomorrow, I need to get home early to study."

"Hey! So you're just going to leave me to fight those things on my own? Then it'll be, like, 100 to 1!"

"Ask Charlotte to go with you, she's an amazon! You're not the only one here who belongs to some fancy warrior race."

Ray crossed his arms. "I guess it'll be nice to have a real warrior around for this one." He teased.

Henry's ears flattened. "Hey! Just because Charlotte is an amazon and always wears armor doesn't mean she's any kid danger! I have hypermotility!"

"Don't you have to study?"

"Yes! It's important."

Ray nodded. "Alright then. Charlotte, I'll go grab your hero armor. Looks like we'll have to show them the unbreakable fighting spirit of captain man and red Valkyrie."

Charlotte stood up and saluted him. "Can I use that scythe?"

Ray nodded and Charlotte jumped on the back of Ray's scorpion body, and they headed off to another room while Henry walked over to a magic doorway, leading to junk-n-stuff.

He walked out and took a look at the potions, amulets and spellbooks littering the walls, locating Jasper behind the counter, helping an elf check out a few potions. Once they left, Jasper walked out from behind the counter and closed up shop.

"Hey, jasp. Where are you going after work?" Henry asked, his tails fanning out.

"Oh, I'm just heading home." He replied, his intricate and beautiful antlers bumping into a shelf, causing him to flinch a little from surprise.

"Can you give me a ride to crystalline lake?"

Jasper's hooves clicked against the ground as he turned around, as if he were surprised he'd ask.

"Of course! Hop on!" The cervitaur replied, grinning.

Henry thanked him and switched to his kitsune form, jumping on Jasper's back and laying his head on his paws as Jasper walked out the door.

It was sunset, and the town of swellview looked even more enchanting and beautiful than it typically did. Several small wyverns flew right past Henry, a bird stopping to rest on Jasper's antlers. The buildings around them stood tall, nearby trees glowing faintly in the slight darkness. Beings and beasts alike littering the paths beside the road, a time where the adventures of the day began to calm down. Henry watched as a mother gryphon carried her young on her back to a nest high in the sky, his currently foxlike face curling into a drowsy smile.

In what felt like no time at all, Jasper stopped at their destination.

"Here we are, crystalline lake," He said, watching Henry jump off his back and to the ground before switching to his Humanoid form. "Do you have your water amulet?"

Henry rifled through his pockets and took out a small circle that looked as if it had small scales with an ocean wave painted on it, and put it around his neck alongside his kid danger talisman. "Yep."

"Good, see you tomorrow!" Jasper said and scampered off.

Henry turned to look at the lake, it seemed to go on for miles, a bridge right in the middle, the other side of the lake reaching all the way to downtown swellview.

The kumiho looked down at the lake, and took a deep breath and clutched the water talisman, and dived in. He had friends in that lake, the magical kind.

Henry felt the water hit his face, as he went deeper, a flurry of bubbles unveiled him as a satisfying chill ran through his body. Slowly, he tested himself and let a little air out, no bubbles rose up.

With the help of the amulet, he could breathe underwater. Slowly Henry became more accustomed to it, short breaths, then deeper ones.

Slowly he opened his eyes, before him stood a wonder he completely forgot about.

An underwater city, lights of bioluminescent kelp illuminated the streets. Buildings covered in aquatic plants as far as the eye could see, and beautiful sea creatures to match. A school of fur-bearing trout sped past Henry as he began to swim down towards the bottom.

The blond wasn't sure if he knew where he was going, he hadn't been in the underwater district of swellview in a while. There were a few levels, after all. He had only come down recently to stop a threat, and even then he spent a lot of it practically carrying ray, whose species didn't swim well due to their heavy scorpion bodies.

He paddled further towards the city, then stopped to rest on top of a second level building.

I'm here, but I've completely forgotten where to find what I'm looking for. He thought, deciding to take some time to look around.

"Hi Henry!" A familiar voice called to him.

He turned to see a satyr with short black hair, beige skin, and glasses.

"Oliver?" He replied, his ears perking up.

"What are you doing down here?" The satyr replied, sitting down on the roof of the building with him.

"I'm looking for Sidney's place," Henry was distracted by a kelpie swimming by. "Although I've completely forgotten where it is, I don't come down here often after all."

"That's fine, I'll help." Oliver replied as his own water amulet glowed and translucent, ghostly batlike wings appeared.

"Woah!" Henry was amazed by the newfound magic appendages. "How did you do that?"

"water amulets can recognize it's wearers swimming abilities and help them accordingly." Oliver explained as he got ready to lead Henry to their destination.

"How come mine doesn't do that then?"

"I don't know, maybe because your tails can work like fins?"

Henry shrugged and followed Oliver as they began to swim again. They weaved through buildings of all kinds; coffee shops, clothing stores, and they even passed a huge dome Oliver said was like a botanical garden, but for plants and creatures found in the ocean.

He missed his trips down here, he didn't know why he stopped. It was like an entirely different world, everything felt silky and ethereal, high speed races through the clouds high above swellview were nothing compared to the odd peacefulness found here. Not many on the surface really seemed to bother with it, some even considered the thought of what could possibly be contained in that lake unnerving. As for henry, he considered it an almost safe place, where the waves would gently caress you and let you feel peace, drifting alongside creatures you'd never see on land.

"Hey, we're here." Henry's admiring of his surroundings were stopped once he realized where he was.

He was in front of what appeared to be a typical house if it were built at the bottom of the ocean, carvings of seashells and Celtic symbols decorating the exterior. Henry recognized the place immediately.

Oliver knocked on the door, and not much later a merperson answered who had short black hair that caused the large fins protruding from their ears and arms to stand out, and wore a gray shirt to compliment the blue and white hues of their tail. Henry recognized this creature as Sidney.

"Henry? I haven't seen you in forever." They said, pleasantly surprised by his presence.

"Decided I'd come down with Oliver to visit." Henry replied, his ears twitching a little.

Sidney invited them both in, and the two land-dwelling creatures sat down in relief, the underwater district of swellview was nice and all, but it was definitely tiring to navigate. The three took some time to catch up, it had been a long time after all. They told each other about all things that had happened above the water, and Sidney told them the events of the lake, as the two districts were a bit detached from each other. Suddenly, the merfolk asked Oliver to leave. He said he'd meet Sidney by a certain pub henry never caught the name of, and headed off.

"Sidney? Why did you want me alone?" Henry asked, a few of his tail tips facing up but curling, the others twitched a little.

"Because I can tell something's bothering you." Sidney said, crossing his arms. "I could tell before you even showed up today."

"How?" Henry asked, one of his tail tips twitching.

"I know a little plant magic, remember?" Sidney reminded him, showing Henry a line of aquatic plants near a windowsill. "Each one is named after a friend of mine, if a plant starts to droop or look unhealthy, it's a magic indicator that something is bothering the friend they're named after."

Henry nodded. Sidney was right, something was bothering him, he just hoped to hang out and forget. That plan had failed.

"Look." Sidney pointed out a small pondweed plant with curly leaves, and it seemed to be turning brown near the ends. "That's yours. So, what's bothering you?"

"It's nothing, really."

"Plant magic doesn't lie, Henry."

Henry's ears flattened in reluctance, how was he supposed to say this without revealing he was kid danger?

"There's been a lot of mysterious appearances up on land, and it's getting a little creepy." Henry admitted. "My boss up at junk-n-stuff says it's happened before a few times, like some pattern."

Sidney tilted his head. "Are you sure it's not some dragon with an unusual hoard?"

"No, no." Henry continued, shifting from side to side ever so slightly. "If it was, captain man and kid danger would probably return with the creatures that disappeared, and my boss said that every time this has happened, they don't come back. Apparently captain man and kid danger don't find a dragon or anything."

Sidney suddenly froze as he remembered something. "Henry, I think I might know what's going on. You have every right to be scared."

Henry's ears flattened again and his tails curled back. "What do you mean?"

"I saw something on the surface last night. I know it'll be safe here in the water, so you're welcome at my place in the face of something happening."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to worry anyone else. Just take this and address it to the man cave, make sure it's submitted anonymously." Sidney gave him a waterproof scroll.

"A scroll? Sidney, people just use paper and envelopes."

"Not when it's important."

"Right..."

"Anyways, I'd suggest keeping your mind off the disappearances. I'll make sure your plant gets extra sunlight."

Henry thanked him and swam off, heading to the surface and switching to his kitsune form, scampering all the way home with the scroll in his jaws.

* * *

The next day, Henry managed to get Sidney's cryptic message off his mind. He was sitting in the man cave with a video game controller in his hand, much more relaxed now. Despite this, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what was written on that scroll. Scrolls were only reserved for messages of utmost importance, so what would they know that captain man and kid danger didn't?

His thoughts were interrupted by ray bursting into the room, wide-eyed and holding something.

"HENRY! Get ready for the biggest mission we've ever gone on!"

Henry' ears perked up as ray headed over. He was holding Sidney's scroll. "This was just mailed to us with no return address or anything, and it has everything in it to finally put an end to an ongoing crime!"

"What kind of ongoing crime?" Henry asked.

"There's been random periods of time when a bunch on swellview citizens suddenly disappeared, without returning. I've been chasing whatever's responsible for it for nine years!"

Henry nodded, only half listening.

"I couldn't figure anything out about it to save my life! But this scroll, this has everything I need to know! Whoever wrote it has all the missing information!" Ray went on before rolling it open.

"Cool."

"Those mysterious disappearances, they were murders! Victims of some kind of hunt! The scroll says a marrashi was planning it!"

"What's a marrashi again? Aren't they usually peaceful?"

"They're beings that look like jackals with bird's feet and wings that stand on two legs, they can't reproduce normally, so they craft enchanted arrows and shoot them at a living thing and that technically kills them and turns the body into a new, sentient marrashi. But here's the thing, that doesn't happen anymore. Marrashis are civilized, they create magic statues and shoot those so nothing has to die! They just shoot animals if anything at all!"

"Sounds cool, dude."

"But this specific one, he calls himself mizain the bold, has been building an army! And he doesn't use statues, he's been killing innocent swellview citizens! For nine years! And he's going to attack tonight!"

"Mizain the bold? That's a cool name."

"Not when it's the name of a brutal murderer!" Ray shouted back. "Tonight we're going into the woods next to crystalline lake, I'm guessing that's their training ground. Bring your most powerful weapons, we'll take the part facing swellview. wait a second, have you even been listening?"

"I have. Now go away, I'm training my mind for battle."

"Henry, you're playing video games."

"Exactly, training. Now leave me alone, you're distracting me."

* * *

And so, night fell. Ray, Henry, and Charlotte stood outside the woods, each one clad in their respective armor, their best weapons with them.

"Okay, here's the plan." Ray began, snipping his claw a few times in thought. "Charlotte, you stand guard here. Make sure to take down any marrashis that make it past us. only the hostile ones in some kind of armor, don't go attacking any innocent citizens."

"Tell me something I don't know already." Charlotte said, crossing her arms.

"That's a dangerous statement. There are many things you don't know, and there's even more things that should be kept secret."

Charlotte was clearly surprised by his response. "You're annoyingly cryptic, captain man."

Ray smirked and shrugged. "I try."

"alright, general. Let's go." Henry said, jumping on Ray's back so he'd have some time to get his weapons ready.

As they walked around looking for their enemies, Henry has brought a large rucksack and continually took weapons and their holsters out and strapped them to his armor. Henry had brought weapons ranging from shurikens to gauntlets, and needed everything to be accessed easily. As he was doing this, he took out what appeared to be a dull sword with a hook at the base.

"How are you going to do any damage with a sword that dull?" Ray asked, looking at the weapon his sidekick was holding. "I told you to bring only the best weapons."

"Best offensive weapons." Henry corrected him.

"And this isn't just any sword, it's a hachiwari."

"Okay? It just looks like a bad katana."

"It's more than that."

"A sword that dull is totally useless, kid!"

"Only if cutting and stabbing are it's only uses." Henry replied, his tails fluffed out in annoyance.

"That's what you use a sword for."

"didn't you bring a bow and arrows?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Then by using that you're not expecting your enemies to be wearing any metal! The arrows will just bounce right off them! With a hachiwari, it's made specifically to tear off armor-"

"Sounds a little creepy to me."

"So you can make them an easier target for things like arrows! Who doesn't wear something underneath their armor? That's just bad planning."

"I do that sometimes!"

"That's weird."

"You're weird."

The two stopped, Henry put the hachiwari in a holster on his back and instead took out intricate red and silver gauntlets. Ray curled his tail as if ready to sting and put his claws in front of him defensively as he grabbed a battle axe.

"Keep watch for anything." Ray whispered.

They were out there for quite a while, looking around for something, anything to indicate that mizain the bold was coming. After what felt like hours, they heard a rustle in the bushes. Henry noticed something nearby.

"Captain man, it's just a deer."

Ray stood wide-eyed and held his battle axe closer to himself and held out a claw in front of Henry.

"Stay back, kid."

"Why?"

"That's not a deer anymore."

They watched as what they thought was a deer's antlers seemingly melted off, as their ears decayed away and new, taller ones at the top of their head grew in their place, it's front hooves slowly seemed to melt off and handlike paws appeared underneath, it's back hooves elongated into large bird's feet. The rest of it's body looked like it was rotting, shrinking a little and turning a dark brown with small spots, it's snout elongated and wings sprouted in a process that looked so painful it was hard to watch.

Henry seemed to recognize this transformation after a while, it had been hit by one of the enchanted arrows, and it had become a marrashi.

"Surprised, are you?" An unnerving voice called out to them.

Henry and ray turned to see one of these creatures, clad in heavy metal armor and blue paint on it's face. Behind it stood what looked like an army of creatures of the same species.

"Who are you?" Ray shouted, brandishing the large axe.

"The name's mizain. I'm here for swellview." They replied.

"If you want swellview, you'll have to get through us first."

Mizain grinned and drew a broadsword. "That won't be an issue."

The crowd behind mizain all drew their weapons. The marrashi grinned. "Get 'em, boys!"

The army charged foward, Henry's ears flattened and he hissed as he charged back and punched an attacker right in the snout. They snarled and swung their sword. Henry blocked it.

He ran around to the back using hyper motility and climbed onto them and jumped off their head as a booster, tossing several shurikens at enemies below.

He landed on another marrashi and slammed their head into the ground before getting hit in the stomach by a mace-wielding enemy. Henry hissed in pain and tried to deflect the mace, but it was no use. He almost took a blow to the head, but the opponent's weapon was knocked out of their hand. Henry quickly glanced behind him to see ray with a longbow, quickly winking before returning to the fight.

Henry ran and quickly grabbed the mace and finished off the attacker before heading off to another, the rush he got from all intense fights kicking in. He slammed the mace into the head of an approaching attacker. Then into the wings of another particularly determined one. They punched him in the neck.

Henry gasped for air and hit them with the mace again. And again. And again. Henry just barely missed getting stabbed with a sword and dropped the mace, mizain swooping down and grabbing the weapon.

Henry wrestled the attacker to the ground and punched with the gauntlets until they gave up.

"Who's next?" He growled, drawing his sword.

Five attackers answered to that call, each swooping in with their swords.

Henry's tails drooped as his eyes widened. "Oh no."

He took the hachiwari in his other hand and ended up in quite the sword fight. He could barely hold them off.

"It's over, kid danger!" One bellowed before getting knocked several feet in the air by a familiar blue battle axe.

Ray had arrived to help out his sidekick. together, the two were knocking marrashis off their wretched evil feet.

Henry was about knock out a particularly vicious one, but he noticed something about it. It looked familiar. Too familiar. Henry's grip softened as something came back to him.

"What's wrong, kid?" Mizain taunted, his lips curled into a devilish smile. "Was this someone you knew?"

Henry's heroic fighting high melted into shock. Henry looked up at the leader. "You..." he whispered.

The shock ignited into a raging fire of anger and vengeance. This fire consumed him as he activated the claws on his gauntlets.

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO KILLED MY SISTER!" Henry screamed and charged at mizain, tackling him and ripping off his helmet and stabbing and slashing him anywhere he could, watching the blood spurt out like it were a firework show.

Once mizain was for sure dead, Henry switched to his kitsune form and sunk his jaws into the neck of another attacker, the need to bring justice morphing into bloodlust.

He went back and forth between every remaining member of mizain's dark army, switching between humanoid and kitsune forms, mauling any one unfortunate enough to catch his eyes.

"DON'T YOU DARE THINK YOU'RE GETTING OUT ALIVE!" Henry screamed as he snapped the neck of an attacker, the remaining fleeing.

"Come back, I'm not done with you yet!" A kid danger drenched in marrashi blood shouted, running after one of them.

Suddenly, ray picked him up off the ground and pulled him close, holding him back from doing any more damage.

"Henry, stop! You've gone hysterical!" Ray shouted as Henry struggled to get out of Ray's grip, but to no avail.

Henry squirmed and kicked and hissed, screaming to be let out and about how he wanted all of them dead. Ray kept him close, making sure he didn't get out again no matter what. After a while, Henry calmed down.

Henry slowly came back to his senses, taking deep breaths. His eyes, however, were closed.

"Good, good. It's okay, Henry. I'm here. Mizain's gone. Nothing can attack you anymore." Ray said, looking down to make sure he's okay.

Henry's eyes slowly opened, he saw the damage he caused. Marrashis across the ground for what seemed like miles, dead.

His ears dropped to the sides of his head, similar to that of a sad puppy. Then, he cried. Silently, but ray could clearly hear his sniffing.

Ray was shocked. He'd never seen anyone cry like that before, tears were streaming down Henry's face so fast it looked like a waterfall. He slowly put Henry down.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

All ray got back was Henry's hysterical babbling.

"Do... do you want to go back to the man cave?" Ray asked.

Henry nodded.

"Here, you can ride on my back." Ray said, helping Henry on.

The whole walk back, he kept checking on henry, and he didn't know what to do. Just minutes ago he watched Henry shred through countless enemies like a murder machine, and now he sat sobbing hysterically in his blood-soaked armor.

He could only wonder what had happened to send Henry into such a state.

Once they got to Charlotte, even she couldn't help Henry. He just had his face buried in his gauntlets, tears dripping down.

Once they got back to the man cave, they sat Henry down on the couch.

Ray took off his armor plates, revealing scuffed chainmail.

"Henry, Henry..." ray began, drying Henry's tears with a finger. "Speak to us, Henry."

Henry sniffled. "I... killed them back there..."

"They were our enemies, it happens..."

"No, ray! You don't understand! I killed them! There were like, a thousand or more! I don't even know how many I got..." Henry sobbed. "I'm a terrible person..."

"No, you're not..." Charlotte said, unsure of what else to say. "What do you remember?"

Henry looked up at her.

"It's just us here." Ray gently reminded him.

"I... I was fighting... and I saw this one try to attack me.. I was going to... I was going to hit back." Henry began.

"and?" Ray asked, putting his hand on Henry's shoulder.

"It was... it was Piper."

Ray's eyes widened. "What do you mean it was Piper?"

"When... I was eight, Piper got hit by some cursed arrow that killed her... and she came back as a ghost person... but that's what her body turned in to." Henry explained through sobs as he hid his face in his tail. "I realized mizain killed her... and I don't remember what happened next. All I know is ray was holding me off the ground and all the marrashis were dead, and something told me I did it... I'm a murderer, ray! A crybaby and a murderer! Why would captain man want a sidekick who's a murderer?"

Ray didn't know what else to do besides hug Henry close and try to comfort him. Henry buried his face in Ray's shoulder and cried even more.

"It's okay, they were enemies out to destroy swellview. If anything, you saved us..." he said, hugging Henry tightly back.

Once Henry calmed down, he went off to go take a shower. Charlotte had to go, and ray sat alone in the man cave.

He didn't know what to make of it. All he knew was he wished he could have done more, and maybe Piper wasn't the brat he thought she was.

#henry danger #hd mythology au

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