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weasleysprincess · 3 years

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The dragon tattoo

a/n: something I came up with hoping it would get me in the mood to write. just a cute charlie imagine for ya’ll :) shouldn’t be any major warnings besides food mentioned twice, just talks about cooking it. sorry if i missed any

Summary: you start a job as a camp healer in Romania on recommendation letter from St. Mungo’s. A certain redhead tries to win your attention after years outside of school.

The morning sun was shining through the English rainstorm, rain whipping on the windows. Rolling over, sighing, it was time for me to finish packing for Romania. The floor was cold as I stood on the wooden floor, pepper, my three month old kitten was already meowing at me. “Okay, baby. I’ll feed you”, Pepper stomped her feet on the floor, before climbing up my thighs, “Yes, hi love. I’m getting it”, I winced as the ball of fluff left her nails in me. Popping a couple pieces of toast in the toaster, grabbing my check list. Pepper was happily meowing at her bowl, such a sweet girl.

Everything was packed, pepper was in her carrier with a couple toys, the door was locked. “Well, Pep it’s time. I promise the dizziness will stop soon enough, sweet baby”, sitting the portkey down. “Ready?”, I asked. Finally landing in front of the office of the dragon camp, I landed on my feet with everything I packed. “You must be the new doc? I’m Steve”, a tall blonde man stuck out his hand. “That’s me, I’m Y/n”, I smiled, shaking his hand. “I’d watch your kitten, if I was you”, Steve looked at Pepper in her carrier. “She doesn't leave the house much”, I joked. The kitten was a homebody. “I’ll show you to your cabin”, Steve said, following him. You could hear dragons roaring and flying around as we walked further to the cabin. A tall redhead held a tiny purple dragon, and looked like it was hurt or sick. “You’re next to Charlie and Mike”, Steve unlocked the door. Charlie? Why does that sound familiar? Steve showed me the cabin and said dinner was in a couple hours. “Whatdya think Pep? Can we make it home?”, I opened her door. Pepper sniffed around, taking her toy with her. Deciding on cleaning the cabin before I made it home.

I was in the kitchen, when someone knocked on the door. Opening the door, the same redhead stood with no dragon. “Yeah?”, I asked. Where have I seen him? “Hi, I’m Charlie! Just wanted to say hello and see the face of the new healer”, Charlie smiled. “Here I am”, I grinned. Charlie was tall and well built, muscles threatening to pop out of his shirt, piercing blue eyes all complete with curly red hair. Red hair, could it be him? “Can I ask you something?”, I bit my lip, Pepper meowing. “Yeah uh?” “Y/n. This is gonna sound crazy, but did we go to school together?”, I asked. Charlie grinned, “Hogwarts, was in Gryffindor. What about you?” “Fellow Gryffindor as well”, I laughed. “How? I never saw you in the common room or anywhere”, Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t talk much, had really bad social anxiety. Should have been in Hufflepuff, swear I think the hat made a mistake or was tired of sorting”, I looked down. Charlie was quiet. “Charlie?”, I looked up and saw Charlie holding his hand out for Pepper to sniff.

“Hi there, I’m Charlie”, Charlie smiled as Pepper let him pet her head. “Uh this is Pepper”, I choked out. Charlie left as dinner was approaching pretty soon. I skipped dinner, needing to finish the cleaning and get my bed made. Getting out of the shower, I threw on a silk set of Pj’s as a knock entered the cabin. I opened the door, Charlie stood with a couple plates, “Hi Charlie” “Hi love, uh I brought you some dinner and dessert. Didn’t see you at dinner”, Charlie smiled. “Thanks, new places and I’m nobody so yeah”, I felt a pang of anxiety as the redhead walked in. “This okay?”, he asked, sitting the food at the table. I nodded. The next morning came quicker than expected. Walking into the healer’s building, “Ah Y/n! Good morning, I’m Healer Reiter”, Healer Reiter smiled as I approached him. “We mostly get burns and scratches here, but a broken bone will come occasionally”, Reiter said as he showed me around.

“Y/L/N, room three. Burns and a huge gash”, the blonde nurse said, handing me the chart. “Okay. Alright, Mr. Weasley, I’m- oh hey”, I closed the door. Charlie was shirtless and stretched out on the bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?”, I asked looking at his shoulder. “Give me some burn cream and do a healing spell, I really need to get back out there”, Charlie said. I cocked an eyebrow at him, “I don’t come to you and tell you how to do your job, don’t do it to me. I ask you a question”, I crossed my arms over my chest. Charlie sighed, “I’m sorry, just hurt is all. I pissed off the mum putting her baby back, she thought I hurt her baby” I winced, “Mothers tend to protect her kids. Raise up for me, Charlie” Charlie sat up, I noticed the dragon tattoo and smiled, “Nice tattoo” Charlie chuckled, “Thanks, love. Did it get burnt?” “No, didn’t leave your left shoulder blade”, I rubbed the cream on his shoulder, grinning at the freckles on his back. Admiring his muscles and freckles, “Y/n, hey love. You okay back there?”, Charlie asked. “Huh oh yeah. Let me see your gash”, I snapped out of my trance. Charlie was a beautiful man that made my job hard for twenty minutes.

The weekend came and Reiter gave a couple days off, it was raining and the wind whipped around. Pulling on legging and a green sweater, grabbing my boots. Opening the door, I was met by Charlie’s fist. “Oh love, sorry about that”, Charlie put his hand down, smiling sheepish. “It’s okay, Charlie. How’s the burn and gash?”, I asked, standing on the porch. “Good, still sore, but nothing I can’t handle”, Charlie smiled. I watched the rain fall, a comfortable silence happened. Charlie cleared his throat, “Yeah?”, I turned to face him. Charlie was biting his lip, “Do you wanna go to dinner with me sometime?” I took away, “Sure, how soon is sometime?” “Tonight okay with you? I can cook us something”, Charlie smiled. “That’s perfect, Charlie”, I grinned, brushing my hand next to his. I walked to Charlie’s cabin, dressed in a yellow blouse and jeans. Not sure how casual this was, I hoped it was a date with Charlie. I knocked on the door, “Hi love, you look beautiful, yellow is a good color on you” “Well hello to you too, you’re full of compliments”, I grinned. I watched Charlie move around his small kitchen, finishing the food. His back muscles moving around through his shirt, arms bulging. He bent over getting something out of the oven, Charlie was blessed everywhere, his jeans were tight around his thighs and ass. I’m a healer, I've seen some nice bodies. And Charlie has a gorgeous body. “Enjoying the view, doll?”, Charlie smirked. “Maybe”, I looked him up and down. Charlie shook his head.

Dinner was amazing, we talked about family, hobbies outside of work, even Pepper. “Care if I walk you home?, it’s late”, Charlie asked. “Not at all, afraid a dragon may kidnap me, Charles?”, I smirked. Charlie rolled his eyes, “My dragons won’t, but mother did raise a gentleman” Charlie pulled me to his sides. “I’ll have to thank her one day”, I looked up at him. Charlie and I stood outside my door. “Y/n?”, Charlie asked. “Yes Charlie?”, I turned around, looking up at the redhead. Charlie looked at my lips and up at me again, “Do you mind?” I shook my head as I gently brought him closer to me. Charlie laid his hands on my waist, thumbs holding my hips in place. Tugging his curly red locks as I felt his tongue on my bottom lips. “Charlie? There you are!”, a man stood at the railing of my porch. “Oh sorry mate” “What is it?”, Charlie turned around, still holding my hips. “Hydra is worse and her mom won’t do anything” Charlie sighed, “Go on, Charlie”, I said. “I’m sorry about this”, Charlie looked down at me. “It’s your job, now quit apologizing and go help that baby before I go myself”, I stared up at him. “Aren’t you the new healer? This is a baby dragon, love”, the blond chuckled. “I am, so what. I take care of sick and injured things”, I sassed. “Frankie, go on”, Charlie rolled his eyes. Charlie smiled, “See ya around, doll”, Charlie kissed my cheek. I watched as the redhead ran to the sick baby. “Think I’m gonna marry you, Weasley”, I smirked.

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley imagine #hp x reader #charlie x fem reader

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archangeldraws · 3 years

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Coming Home

A King Ghidorah fanfiction

Doraut AU

This is the story of how three little Dorats find their forever home and the bond they shared with a special human child

(Eva is my OC)

Soft light shines through the curtains and into the dim room. The sun is just starting to rise, but the owner of the room is still in bed, covered by a soft blanket, her chest slowly rising and falling.

She doesn't even notice when the door quietly opens and two figures step inside, approaching the small bed. One of the intruders opens the curtains, letting the warm glow of the sunshine in. The man smiles as his gaze falls upon the sleeping figure of his little daughter, still nestled into her pastel colored blanket, happily dreaming. His wife sits down at the foot of the bed, gently rubbing her daughter's side to wake her from her slumber. “Wake up Eva. Good morning darling.” They wait, carefully nudging the girl and smiling as she opens her eyes, yawns and stretches her little arms. “Happy birthday, darling!” They cheer, holding up a breakfast muffing with a candle.

Eva's face lights up, a big grin forming on her chubby cheeks as her parents sing her the Birthday song and she gets to blow out the candle. “Today is a very special day, sweetheart. You're 5 years old now!” Her father smiles. “Yes, indeed. You're a big girl now”, her mother agrees. “And we got something very special planned for you.” Eva jumps out of bed, already excited. “What is it? What is it??” “You'll see soon enough. But first, let's have breakfast.”

Quickly, the family makes it to the kitchen, where Eva's mother had already prepared breakfast. Not just a simple breakfast, but all the things Eva likes. Breakfast muffins, waffles with whipped cream and fresh strawberries, onigiri filled with sweet red bean filling and fresh veggies in a side bowl. After such a filling breakfast, her father pulls her aside. “Now, for your first gift, I need you to get dressed. Because we're going to go somewhere special.” “Where are we going, daddy?” “That's a surprise. Now quickly, get dressed and we'll go!”

Only 10 minutes later, the two of them were in the car and making their way through the city of Tokyo. It almost seems like forever, as Eva watched the huge buildings pass her by. Once they stopped, her father tells her to close her eyes and wraps a bandana around her eyes, as he carries her to their destination. “Alright, you can look now.” Clumsily, Eva pulls off the bandana and looks around the place, as her eyes grow big and light up. “Dorats!!” she exclaims excitedly. There they stood, in front of a big window, separating them from a group of Dorats in their enclosure. There were quite a few Dorat cubs, playing with each other and flapping around. “Yes Eva, Dorats. Your mother and I have been thinking long and hard about this. And since you've been such a good girl this year, we decided that you can have your own Dorat. Choose whichever one you like.” She smiles as a woman, who had been standing with them opens a door, leading her into the play room of the Dorats. “Take your time. You can play with them a little if you want, get to know them.” She smiles as Eva carefully steps into the play area of the pen, looking at all the little Dorat cubs. They watch her as they mew and trill, sniffing the air before approaching. Like every child, they're happy to see a new playmate. “I'm sure you'll find the right partner amongst them. Dorats know which human would be best for them. Let them approach you.”, the breeder explains.

There were so many of them. And they were all just so cute! Dorats, as Eva can see, come in different colors. There were brown ones, ginger, white, some had spots, some had stripes. Even a tri-colored one was there. And golden ones too! Eva laughs as she gets to pet them all and play with them. So adorable. And so small. Like a puppy. One of the golden ones inches closer, curious who this new human is. They all try to communicate with her, not yet able to build a strong mental link. All Eva can pick up are their emotions and single words. “Happy! Play! Pet me!” The little golden one was sniffing her hand, licking her fingers. She giggles and reaches out, running her hand trough it's fluffy head and back fur. The Dorat purrs and trills happily, asking for more scratches. “It seems this one really likes you.” Eva's father and the breeder watch her play and cuddle the little cub. “I like him too!” “Do you want this one?” “Yes, daddy!” She grins, picking the cub up and hugging it. It licks her face, purring and tail wagging. Then it looks back, grunting. It was calling. Eva follows it's gaze, spotting two other golden cubs. They were watching her, one slowly approaching her, the other sitting on a cat tree, looking down on her. “Come here little guy!” She stretches out her hand, letting the second Dorat sniff her hand. The one in her arm jumps down, circling the other golden one and grooming it, urging it closer to the girl. This cub seems weary of her, not daring to come much closer. She wonders if this cub was scared of her? So she thinks.... And then puts her hands into her pockets, pulling out a fist of crumbled fish crackers, holding them out for the Dorats. “Do you want some? They are my favorites!” The cubs sniff her hand again before licking the crumbs off her fingertips. Now the second Dorat seems to have lost it's weariness of her and purrs happily as well. The third one, still watching, spreads it's wings and glides down towards her. This cub seems to be good at flying already. It gives her the side eye, eyeing her up and down before it too, eats some of the crackers she offered them. Eva giggles, their little tongues tickling her and she pets the third Dorat, surprising it. But it doesn't shy away as they look each other in the eyes. She reaches out mentally, asking for a connection. Dorats, at this age, are still developing their psychic abilities, so complex thoughts aren't possible yet. And building up and holding a telepathic link with a human wasn't easy, as their capabilities weren't as strong as a Dorat's. Still, she tries to get in contact with the cub, letting it know she means to harm.

The breeder and Eva's father watch, as the girl communicates with three Dorats at once. “This is interesting.”, the woman says. “What is?” “These cubs there. They're brothers. They always stick together, but usually, when people come, only one of them tries to interact with humans. The other two aren't interested in contact, normally. So seeing them approach your daughter like this and not running off is special. I was a little worried that they might not get adopted if that keeps up.” “I see. But if that one is so friendly, how come it's still here?” “There were some that wanted to take him, but whenever I tried to give him over he would fly away and huddle up with the other two. And then no one could touch them again and all three would hiss and bite... So, if you want that one, you would have to take all three of them.” “All three?! But we only wanted one!” “Then you have to choose another one. I'm sorry, but these are a package deal. They do not want to be separated.” Eva's father ponders, looking back at his child, playing with the cubs. “Honey, come over here please. I want to ask you something.”, he beckons her over. She leaves the rest of her crackers with the cubs and skips over to her father.

“Yes, daddy?” “Sweetheart... Have you chosen a Dorat yet?” “Hmmm....” she thinks for a while. “I like these!” she points to the golden siblings. “Honey... I'm sorry, but you can only have one. Your mother and I agreed to one Dorat, but three? That's a lot of work! I don't know if we can handle three. Why don't you pick another one?” “But daddy!”. Eva looks at him, then back at the cubs. “I like them. We talked! And they're so cute!” “I know Eva, but-...” “Sir, if I may?” The woman looks at him. “I know it's not my place to say this, but... A bond between a human and a Dorat like this... This is special. As you know, while Dorats can link with anyone, the bonds they share with that one human are much stronger. And while we like to believe we choose the Dorat we want, it's actually the other way around. They, choose their human.” She smiles, but leaves out the part that, if they don't get adopted soon, the chance of finding a home for them would be slim to none, if they don't bond with a human. And then... She could still keep them for the breeding program to father a new generation, but if their cubs are like that as well, they don't have a chance. And Dorats that don't bond aren't wanted and don't live very long...

“Please daddy! They will be sad if we only take one!” “How do you know that, Eva?” “I could feel it. They want to stay together!”

At home, Eva's mother had decorated the living room and was getting everything ready for the family, once their relatives arrive for the party. She smiles as she heard the front door open and her daughter hastily taking off her shoes to storm inside. “So, how did it go? Did you find a friend?” “Yes mommy, thank you! This is the best day ever!” She smiles as her husband carries a transport box into the room. “Alright, this is your new home!” He opens the door and, waiting for a minute, a little golden Dorat steps out, looking around and sniffing the air. And then another one... And a third.... “What-.... What is this? Three Dorats! Dear! We agreed on one Dorat!” “I'm sorry! But you should have seen it! I just couldn't say no to her. And look, she's so happy!” His wife sighs, shaking her head. “Can we even take care of three Dorats? It'll be too much work. And the costs for food, the vet bills, the toys!” “I know...” he grins, shrinking back a little. Eva doesn't care. She is now a happy little owner of her own Dorats and already busy showing them around and talking about everything all the while. Her parents watch, following them as the cubs looks around and sniff everything, following their daughter. “So.... Do you have names for them yet?”, her mother asks, hoping a bit that she doesn't and isn't as attached as she thinks she is. Maybe they can give two back? “Hmmm... Not yet.” The girl thinks... and thinks.... Before pulling out the three collars they had picked up on their way from a pet shop and all the other things they need. She takes the blue collar, putting it on the quiet cub. “Your name is now..... Ichi! Ok? You're Ichi!” she grins and the cub, now dubbed Ichi looks at her, seemingly nodding and accepting his name. Then, she puts a red collar on the second one. “And you.... You are Ni!” the now named Ni pulls at the collar, not used to having something around his neck and eventually gives up once he realized it won't come off and just huffs. The last collar, the green one, goes on the third. And it seems pretty happy with it. “And your name is San!”

Behind her, her parents laugh. Their daughter, in her creativity, just named them One, Two and Three! The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur. Eva doesn't even notice when her aunts and uncles and cousins arrive and spends most of the time getting to know her new friends. And at the end of the day, her parents tuck her into bed, happy but exhausted. And next to the child, three little Dorats snore away in the same bed.

They are now home.

(If you enjoyed this little story, please give me some feedback. I don’t usually write, so please bear with me ^^)

#King Ghidorat #Dorats #Dorat AU #King Ghdorah Dorat AU #King Ghidorah fanfiction #Fanfiction #Kind Ghidorah backstory Dorat AU #Ichi Ni and San #Godzilla OC #Godzilla Human OC #Human OC #Fluff #Ichi #No #Ni #San #King Ghidorah

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chamomileteainabuttercup · 3 years

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Dincobb Week Day 7 - Alternate First Meeting (SFW)

Welcome to my Dincobb Week fanfic posts! I've written stories and scenes of varying lengths and tones. For clarity I should say that most of these exist as miniature AUs of their own and have no continuity with each other or with anything else I've written about these characters, so in different pieces they may be described having different physical features, personal possessions, preferences, et cetera. (There are three exceptions which I'll note as such when they come out.) Thanks to @djarining, who helped me a lot with brainstorming and discussing my ideas!

For today I have one piece and it's SFW.

Alternate First Meeting - in which the Jawas weren't there but a Mandalorian was

There’s a small, struggling human shape toiling across the desert below the Razor Crest. Din notices it from a distance. Someone alone and on foot. No speeder, no bantha. Leaving an uncertain, wobbly track in the sand. Doomed, out there.

It’s not his problem. And he’s busy. There’s a big bounty to track down, someone Bib Fortuna wants contained in order to consolidate his new power. He hasn’t got a contract from this high up the Tatooine power structure before — it seems the regular guy bit the dust along with Jabba, opening up an opportunity. Din doesn’t know him, but he’s heard he was a Mandalorian, so the galaxy is a little worse off without him — but there’s nothing he can do about that, he just has to stay focused on his own work, take care of his own people.

It’s not his problem.

Damn it. It’s one thing when people have done something to place themselves beyond his sympathy, when they’ve threatened him or what he protects, but he can’t just ignore whoever is stupid enough to try to cross the desert alone and on foot. Maybe he doesn’t have to do anything now. The little figure just fell over and lay still.

Still, he lands close by and goes over to check.

It’s a man, one of the local settlers from the look of him, grey-haired and lanky. He’s not remotely dressed for this — not even a hat to keep off the sun, let alone a robe or a poncho, just a shirt and pants. He didn’t intend to cross a desert in that outfit. He doesn’t have a canteen. He was carrying a camtono — no idea what’s in there but presumably something of value, just not of any practical use for his survival. His breathing is shallow, but he is still breathing. Din picks him up, with some difficulty since he’s a dead weight, slings him over his shoulder, scoops up the camtono and carries him up the ramp into the hold of his ship, where there’s shade.

He places the man on the floor, sitting up against the wall with his head lolling, and examines him. He’s badly dehydrated; when Din pinches the skin on the back of his hand it takes several seconds for it to smooth out again. His lips are chapped and cracked and he’s covered in dust and dirt. He needs water, but if Din just pours it down his throat he’ll choke, so he goes and gets his own canteen, fills it from the galley tap, brings it back and shakes the man’s shoulder a little, crouching beside him.

“Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me. Can you hear me?”

The man stirs a little, his head rolling from side to side before he manages to lift it up. He looks at Din blearily, with suspicion and some alarm, and makes a faint croaking sound, his mouth clearly too dry to speak audibly.

“You’re safe. Drink some water.” He offers the canteen and the exhausted man moves like lightning to grab it. He puts it to his lips and drinks frantically, water trickling from the sides of his mouth into his beard and down his neck as his throat bobs, looking up at Din with disconcertingly sharp eyes. He looks ready to do murder when Din takes the canteen from his hand, but doesn’t have the strength to stop him. “Take a breather,” says Din. “You drink too fast and you’ll throw it back up.”

The man pants and sniffs, and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm before clearing his throat and saying hoarsely, “Who’re you?”

“I’m a bounty hunter,” says Din.

“They send you to get me?” the man asks.

“No. I was flying by and saw you pass out. I don’t know who you are.”

“Name’s Cobb Vanth,” says the man, then, politely, “May I have some more water?”

Din hands it back to him and he drinks again, his eyes closing this time as if in bliss. He lowers the canteen after several more deep swigs with a soft “paah” and catches his breath. He peers at Din again. “Are you a… you’re a Mandalorian, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve never met a real Mandalorian.” He chuckles. “Heard stories. I know you’re good at killing.”

Din lets that pass. He’d like to think there’s more to him than that but he won’t deny he’s efficient.

“And you’re a bounty hunter, you say?”

Din nods.

“So you’re for hire?”

“You’ve been out in the sun too long,” says Din. “You can get some rest now. Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“No, I’m asking…” Cobb sits up straighter, pulling himself together. “I know some people that need killing. And I can’t do it all by myself.”

“I’m not a hitman,” says Din.

“You don’t understand,” says Cobb. “The Mining Collective.” He’s clearly still exhausted, but pushing himself hard. “They moved in on my town. The night we got news of the Death Star blowing up. We didn’t even have time to celebrate.”

Din’s heard about that in vague terms over the past few days; it doesn’t make a great deal of difference to his day-to-day, though he’s glad to hear of the Empire going down. Maybe sometime soon it won’t be so dangerous to be a Mandalorian. He won’t hold his breath, though. Can’t be disappointed if you don’t get your hopes up. The Mining Collective is bad news too. He nods.

“I lit out. Took what I could from the invaders. Grabbed a camtono,” Cobb says, looking around vaguely and then nodding when he spots it by his feet. “I wandered for days. No food, no water. And then… I was saved.” He gives Din a sly smile and points at him. “I guess every once in a while, both suns shine on a womp rat’s tail.”

“Guess so,” Din says, and begins to stand up. Cobb grabs a handful of his cape and holds on. He’s still weak, but he is quick. “Listen to me,” he says. “I’ve got treasure. That camtono. It’s full of silicax crystals. It’s yours if you help me. Help me take back Mos Pelgo.”

Din has to think about that. A full camtono of silicax is nothing to turn up his nose at. Depending on what Mos Pelgo is like, this could be a side job that doesn’t take too much time away from finding Fortuna’s bounty. Depending on the quality of the silicax he could be almost doubling his payday, and he has a lot of mouths to feed. He sits down. “Tell me about Mos Pelgo.”

It’s manageable. Mos Pelgo is just a flyspeck on the map. The Mining Collective hasn’t committed a whole lot of resources to it because they don’t have to, not to control a small population of frightened and demoralised people armed only with mining equipment. He has an armed ship and it amounts to a few minutes’ intensive work culminating in a fireball outside of town. He circles to make sure there are no survivors leaving the wreckage and returns to land closer to the settlement.

Cobb Vanth is grateful, relieved. It’s a good feeling when he can do that for someone he actually likes. Pretty rare too. Cobb is brave and resourceful and not too proud to ask for help. He likes that. He asks Din to have a drink with him before they settle up and while he declines the drink Din is happy to sit with him while he has one. It’s just the two of them in the shady cantina at the end of the day. Cobb keeps looking him up and down appraisingly, and it’s mildly disconcerting but not unpleasant.

“Would you consider staying?” Cobb asks. “As our defender. We can make it worth your while.”

Din shakes his head. “I have my own people to get back to.”

Cobb sucks his teeth, thinking. “Well, would you consider selling me your armour so I can do it myself? Take it out of the camtono too.”

Din’s back straightens from the more relaxed posture he was sitting in. “No,” he says.

“You can always get more, can’t you?” Cobb protests.

He clearly doesn’t understand what a repugnant suggestion it is, and Din doesn’t have the time or the inclination to walk him through it. “To get my armour you would have to pry it off my dead body,” he says. “Don’t ask me again.”

“Then we’re just as vulnerable when you leave as we were before,” Cobb says. “Sitting ducks for the next syndicate goons.”

“I’m sorry but that isn’t my problem,” says Din. “I’ve gone out of my way to assist and I need to get back to my job. You’re a survivor. You'll survive. Good luck.” He gets up and turns towards the door, he hears the clatter of Cobb’s chair overturning and — the man is quick — he feels something blunt and hard butting into the back of his neck, where he’s only protected by the folds of his cape. If he’s not mistaken, that would be the muzzle of a blaster. Must have been dropped by one of the Mining Collective goons in their rush to leave. Cobb is a survivor, a scavenger; of course he picked it up.

Cobb’s voice is urgent, sharp. “Take it off,” he says, “or I will.” He’s also still recovering from his exhaustion and dehydration. He’s not strong right now. Din simply drops down, whips his leg out and kicks Cobb’s feet out from under him, then rises up as he falls down and steps hard on the wrist of the hand that is indeed holding a blaster. He presses down with his boot until Cobb swears and lets go of the blaster, and then he kicks it away; it skitters under the sagging old piano by the wall. Cobb keeps on swearing and cursing him, sitting up wringing his bruised wrist with the other hand.

“What am I going to do now? What the hell am I going to do now?” he keeps saying.

“I can sympathise with your motives,” Din says, “and that’s why you’re alive now.” The camtono is standing on the table where Cobb set it, and Din picks it up and sets it down between his legs where he sits on the floor. “You should be able to buy the kind of gear you need with this. Try the Jawas, or the black market in Mos Eisley. Don’t tell anyone about me. The Guild takes a very dim view of freebies.”

“That’s it?” Cobb asks, looking up at him from red-rimmed eyes.

“That’s it,” says Din, and turns to go.

“I don’t know your name,” Cobb says abruptly, behind him. Just for a moment, Din wants to tell him. He wants to hold onto the feeling he had that they could have been friends. But Cobb is not his problem. He has more than enough of those.

“I don’t expect our paths will cross again,” he says, and he leaves.

#dincobweek2021 #dincobweek #dincobb week #fanfic

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nitannichionne · 4 years

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LUNA IV Chapter 5: Roles (Henry Cavill Syverson Fan Fic)

Chapter 5

“We need to talk.”

You shake your head as you work on the garden. He gave it to you as a project to do. You liked it instantly because it was something you did for fun before your life changed. There were certain things your father liked to do with you at home when he wasn’t on a mission, and this was one of them. You like the feel of earth in your hands, and how you could pound it and shift it, and make something grow from it. You had great talks in the garden while planting it, watering it, and finally walking it or harvesting it. It was becoming your little world away from the one you got dropped in.

You must stay away from him, no matter how much you want him, you tell yourself everyday while you’re there. The plan is to get away from him, not curl into his arms, not to succumb to his kisses, even if he is compassionate, even if he feels good, even if his voice lulls you in the night when you wake up. It had happened again last night, and you fight the memory:

You awaken with a cry, shaking with tears streaming down your face. The dream-the flashback-had happened again:

Marette was coming at you in your own home, telling you that you were his. You tell him you’re not. He tells you it’s the law. You tell him fuck the law, and your father left you your fortune. He laughs and comes at you, telling you that he is going teach you a lesson that you father didn’t. The fight ensues, and he underestimates your abilities, all your father taught you. The room becomes a war zone, and everything is a weapon as far as you’re concerned. You throw things at him to keep him at bay, and he laughs. He lunges for you and you get out of the way. You pick up a chair and he grabs the other end, but your struggle gets you closer the weapons cabinet. He wrenches it away from you and takes your body to the floor. You feel your clothes rip and you clap his ears. You back away, scrambling for the cabinet. He catches your leg, and you fight, but he’s strong, pulling you to him. You feel him on your back and he squeezes your breast so hard you scream in pain. You roll him over and head butt him, using the moment his grip on you loosens to roll and scramble to your feet. You dive over the couch, away from the weapons cabinet to your father’s desk. You jump over it, and open the drawer. He always had a weapon there. You grab it just as you feel Marette’s body take you to the ground again. You struggle as he tries to disarm you, your fingers fumbling between you for the gun. BANG!

His body is heavy on yours. You push him off, see his expressionless face. You back away from him as if he may spring back to life any moment. You bump into the wall and one of your father’s military jackets fall over you. Your life is over and you know it. You curl yourself in it, still holding the gun, and cry.

In the darkness you awaken from the memory, weeping and trembling. Then you feel a warm embrace, you feel a hand at your back rubbing you. You curl into these arms, and then freeze, realizing this could be no one you know. You look up and see Syverson’s face.

Your mind’s eye closes and you see Syverson standing over you with that same look on his face.

“What?”

“Whatever happened to you, I’m sorry,” Sy ground out. “I feel as if there is so much more to your story—”

Your eyes fly to his. “There is more to everyone’s story, here.”

“There is?”

“Yes, like Gabrielle,” you say her name. “She’s here because she stole food, because she was hungry.”

“I got that feeling when I saw her,” Sy says softly. “I swear to you she is in gentle hands.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” you hiss angrily, and go back to turning the soil with your hands.

“Have I done something to you?”

You say nothing, because he has done nothing. A pattern had been established. You have been trying not to enjoy Sy’s smiles and comments about your cooking and cleaning, which usually surpassed his expectations. And in return--

His fingers and mouth brought you great relief and ecstasy. He knew you intimately, but you hadn't felt his hot hardness inside you since your first night. He comforted you when you had the nightmares, but sometimes you found herself wanting more. He would stroke your limbs every night, and you got used to it, even had trouble sleeping when he had to go if a crime occurred. You were on edge, starving for him, and he knew it, despite the cuffs he had attached to the bed that he adjusted to your size. After that, you’d been keeping conversation to a minimum and even that was killing you. His eyes silently asked you to talk, and so you stopped looking. But your body was a traitor. This morning you awakened with your arm and leg draped over him his muscular frame, your head over his heart. You even sniffed his neck as you awakened. He looked down at you and you got out of bed as fast as you could.

“Why aren’t you at work?” you ask, still tilling the soil.

“I’m working from home today.”

You sigh. So much for time to strengthen your reserve. “I could start lunch early.” You rise and assume an at ease position, deciding that he was not going to let her garden.

His eyes travel you. "I would like to take you to town today," he says quickly. "You should go every week for supplies." He watched you nod in understanding.

You avert your eyes, visibly bracing. "May I finish here?"

"You may not have enough time, it is best to go before the sun is too high." he nods, watching your eyes lower. "I will help you."

Alarms go off within you. "You don't have to—"

"Tend my own garden?" he smiles. "I haven't had time to do it, but I assure you, I know how. We can finish quickly, and still get to town before the sun is high." He is outwardly calm, but you sense tension and don’t know why. You both kneel side by side and get to work, loosening the soil and planting more seeds. "You know a great deal about running a household."

"Yes."

He takes a breath. "I am at a loss. I know why are you are here, but I don't know...why you are here."

You take a deep breath and exhale, "I don't belong here."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

You stab a hole it the shifted earth. "I killed a man—" you make eye contact with him. "In self defense."

"Go on."

"My father was very wealthy, very affluent," you decide to go back to work while you talk. "I was to be married in a year, and had just met my fiancée."

"An arranged marriage."

"He was a nice man," You defend. "I knew no one as kind as Kieran, except my father."

"Kieran?" Sy repeats, frowning. "Kieran Feloni?"

You nod.

His eyes widen with recognition. "Then that would make you—"

"Daughter of General Andari."

He stopped working. "Your father was one of the most admired and decorated warriors in the Luna System." His whole demeanor shows great respect. “I was saddened about his loss, I truly was. Good man.”

"Thank you," you nod, feeling his sincerity. "Don't know much about me, do you?"

"No, not really," he shook his head, feeling guilty. "Your stories were in the society section, I don't read that."

You nod in understanding. "Yes, that is how they did it." You tensed, still concentrating on the work before you. "They took everything."

"Who?"

"Luna III," you nod. "Women can't have anything, remember?"

"They only ask you have a guardian—"

"I don't need one!" your anger flares, eyes sparking at his. "My father raised me to take care of myself. I was fine!"

"I heard that he died in a—"

"They died," Your voice wavers, and you go back to concentrating on the planting. You realize you have finished planting the seedling in front of you, and shift quickly before he can touch you. "They took everything away from me...in trust till I found a new guardian." You pause, starting a new row. "One was picked for me. I didn't want him. He tried to take over—take me—it was me or him."

"And?"

"I am my father's daughter." You smirk darkly at him, vigorously stabbing the earth and dropping seeds in each hole, creating a rhythm. "Female I am, but my father taught me how to fight. Marette was stupid to think I'd let him—I warned him, told him to leave me...alone." You find your vision is blurring, your breath is heaving, and you stop.

"You'd never killed anyone."

You stab the ground so hard the hoe stands straight up in the soil. "I never had to!" She raised her eyes to him, her breath racing.

"Enough gardening today." He rises to his feet.

You stiffen. "Yes, I'm sure you've had enough digging around today." You lift your face to him defiantly as you rise to your feet even though your tears still fell.

"Time for a bath." Before you could say anything, he picks you up. He keeps a gentle but firm grip on you, anticipating resistance, but there was none, though she was stiff in his arms. He sets you down in the bathroom, turns on the water, and undresses you slowly. You say nothing. He undresses and pulls you in against him.

You put your palms on his chest, trying to keep some distance. "I can't wash this way." You don’t want to look at him.

He smiles gently. "It's alright. Let the water do some of the work, wash it away." You go rigid and he starts wetting your hair, smoothing the water over your head. "Close your eyes, relax..." He gently massages your scalp until you relax. He puts your head on his chest. "See?"

Your vision completely blurs as you try to hold in sniffs and sobs. He holds you closer as he takes a sponge from a small wall shelf and strokes your back, saying nothing. You hide your tears in the flow of water. You had not cried since the day law enforcement took you, the last time you held your father’s jacket. You realize he is too quiet and he is caressing more than bathing you. Does he know you’re crying? You hesitantly pull away.

Given access to the front of your body, he rakes your hair back gently, pulling it to tilt your head to his. He lowers his lips to yours, pressing gently. He withdraws, but only to wash your breasts and stomach, then kneels to wash your legs as well.But then, his mouth opens against the apex of your legs, his warm breath providing only a second's notice before his tongue slides between your lovelips, and you exhale in a half cry, half moan. You lean against the shower wall. His strokes are slow and deliberate, coaxing your legs to open more. He guides your hands to his head, and you massage his scalp as you pant under the flow of water, lost again in passion. He moans as drinks from you and then rises to his feet to pin you against the wall and lift you effortlessly onto his hips, his muscles exerting great care as he lowers her onto his erection. Your both moan, the sounds blending with the sound of flowing water as he lifts and lowers you again…and again…

Passion strips away roles as the water rinses you clean. You wrap your legs around him in surrender as he gently thrust into you, the movements becoming more urgent. You flex around him as he draws moans from you, your fingers digging into his shoulders and intensifying his release.

For moments after he holds you to him, he keeps you pinned against the shower wall as he strokes your arms and legs. He kisses your shoulder and you realize you have been rubbing the back of his head almost absently, naturally, your legs still wrapped around him. It was as if you aren't prisoner and warden at all.

"We are going to market?" you ask softly.

He draws back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "Yes. I want the people in town to know you are with me and whatever you buy is on my account." He kisses your nose, and smiles at your confusion. His words do not sound like that of a warden. "Get dressed, alright?" He sets you down on your feet, and you wash quickly and get dressed.

Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you wish to be tagged, and comments are WELCOME. Please feel free to also check out other stories on my page.

Thanks @fckdeusername and @maan24 ! I thought no one was interested in this story!

#henrycavill #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henrycavillfanfic #Henry Cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #geralt #syverson #superman

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aethelar · 4 years

Text

This is a love story. Not the usual sort; it doesn’t end when they marry, and it doesn’t end when they divorce, and the they of it isn’t really important. What’s important is the he.

His name is Newt Scamander. He’s born small, loud, with wisps of curly hair that will darken to red-blonde when he’s older. He has an older brother who loves him, a mother who loves the idea of him, and a father who dotes on him when he remembers. It’s not a bad start.

Later, he gains a nanny. He calls her Ayah at first because that’s what his mother called her, but he learns, soon enough, that her name is Bhudi and she smiles when he uses it. He learns a lot from her, picking up new names and new words and new knowledge until his mother scolds him for the foreign accent that’s invading his speech.

They are in India. It’s 1902. His father works for the British Ministry and his mother ships exotic creatures back to England to grace the menageries of the rich and Bhudi shows him a feather and teaches him about the bird it came from. She speaks in Marathi because the Lady Scamander doesn’t like Newt learning English from her, and, privately, she thinks that if the Lady Scamander wants her son to speak like his parents then perhaps his parents should speak to him so he can learn.

At breakfast, Newt stumbles through asking Theseus to pass the dudha instead of the milk, and his father shakes his head and calls him cute. His mother purses her lips. She commands Newt to follow her that day, and the next, and for the rest of the week he trails her heels as she judges how many peacocks she can convince the Lord Malfoy to buy. They aren’t even magical, but they’re pretty, and because of this they are valuable.

Newt frowns at the little brown peahen that’s pecking at the dirt and has no pretty feathers to make her worth anything, and thinks they should be valuable anyway.

His mother finds she likes the idea of Newt trailing her more than the reality, much like she liked the idea of a pair of sons more than the time it took to raise them. He asks too many questions, he calls things by the wrong names, he has too many stories that distract her from her work. She gives him books instead, worthy and important books to improve his English, and a month later Newt sits at the breakfast table and recounts to Theseus how he’d rescued an “exhausted and dispirited monkey” from a rope snare trap.

“Exhausted and dispirited?” His father repeats, laughing. “Did you hear that, Theseus - your brother’s a scholar in the making!”

Newt doesn’t speak for the rest of the meal. He asks Bhudi what he did wrong, and she tells him that people who set traps for monkeys don’t understand why it’s important that they’re set free.

“But why?” Newt asks.

“If you love the monkey’s coat then you want it always in reach,” she says. “If you love the monkey, then you wait for it to come to you.”

“If I were a monkey,” Newt says, “I would rather be an ugly one with a coat no one liked. Then no one would trap me and ship me off to England, and I could stay here forever with you.”

Bhudi laughs and kisses his forehead, but when Newt is ten he has to leave her behind anyway.

He resents England, when he arrives. It’s cold, and the houses are too close and too dark. There are no peacocks, with grand feathered tails or otherwise. There are no monkeys. His grandmothers speak with accents he can’t understand, heavy with Gaelic undertones that his mother sniffs at and asks the children not to copy. But if he cannot talk to them, and his parents are busy, and Theseus is at boarding school, and Bhudi is in India - then who does Newt have left?

“Namaskar,” he says cautiously to the hippogriffs. “Hello. Um, Ha - halo?” The Gaelic is awkward in his mouth, copied from a greeting he wasn’t supposed to learn, and he ducks in his head in shame because he thinks he got it wrong.

The hippogriff huffs, and when he looks up, it’s ducked it’s head back in mimicry. It almost looks like it’s bowing. And when the next hippogriff comes up, curious, Newt bows again - and the hippogriff blinks in startled thought and then slowly, ponderously, bows back.

“Oh,” Newt says. It’s a new language. Not Marathi, not English, not Gaelic. Well, ok then. He can learn.

And he does. His mother calls the hippogriffs vicious beasts, best handled by experts, suited more to the war that’s brewing than to anything else. Their value, she tells him, is in their strength, their hooked beaks and their curving, deadly talons.

Newt bows and smiles with his mouth closed and straightens the feathers between their wing bones and curls up amongst their foals in the spring, and he tells them, “I’d think you were valuable even if you never fought in a war. I can’t imagine you’d want to. I don’t think you should have to.”

When he’s eleven, he goes to Hogwarts. When he comes back, the hippogriffs are gone, and new ones have taken their place. “These sorts of beasts aren’t pets,” his mother dismisses when he asks. “They’re property.”

And at school: “They’re dangerous.”

And when he’s expelled: “They’re illegal.”

And when he’s gone to war himself, too young, too scared, too short of other options because Theseus went to war and if Newt doesn’t follow him he has to go back home but home is in India with a woman who was more of a mother to him than the one he’s got - when he’s gone to war: “They’re weapons.”

He looks at the dragons and he rubs what poultices he can make into the scars that litter their sides, and he says, “I don’t love you for your fire. I’d wish you didn’t have it, except it’s yours, and if I love you for you then I should love your fire as well. I just wish people wouldn’t keep using you because of it.”

The dragons croon, low, gentle rumbles that they’d use to soothe a frightened hatchling. They bend their necks around him and quietly despair at the way his lack of scales leaves him vulnerable, and when he cries, they hold their wings out over him to shield him from the world.

“You aren’t weapons,” he tells them. “You’re dragons. War is not where dragons live.”

It’s not. War is where dragons die.

When peace is called, Theseus goes back to England, a hero, a leader, a different man than the one who first joined the fight. Newt goes to India, a runaway, expelled and disgraced and the same little boy he always was, loving the birds in the trees even if all he can see of them is the feathers they leave behind.

He doesn’t make it to India. He finds a niffler on the way, and then a bowtruckle; he finds a demiguise and an occamy nest and a nundu.

He calls the nundu Adelaide. She eats scones with clotted cream and jam. She learns his gestures and mimics them back to him, and she takes up all his sofa because she’s not a kitten any more. When Newt publishes a book about the creatures he’s found, someone edits her entry without asking him, and the rest of the wizarding world believe she’s a monster.

Later, he finds a little girl who’s so afraid of her magic it kills her. He finds a thunderbird, kept in chains and forced to bring rain to a patch of desert that should never have been settled to begin with. He takes the thunderbird home and on the way he finds an auror who was fired for doing the right thing, and her sister who’s chosen to wait tables because people are scared of the secrets she hears.

“Pickett,” he says in frustration, “I love you, and because I love you, I’m telling you that you’ll be happier in a tree. Because you’re a bowtruckle. You belong in trees.”

Pickett blows him a raspberry and continues arranging his curls until they look like a crown of flowers in the sun.

Newt calls him an impossible creature, and dutifully passes up a clip so Pickett can fix his work in place.

When he marries, he’s distracted. He’s known all his life what love is, and he knows that if you love something, it’s a careful balancing act. Addie wants to roam, but she always comes home in the end; Pickett wants to stay, and he cries if he’s left behind. Frank wanted to fly with his wings stretched out and his feet never touching the ground, and Dougal wants never to take his medicine again.

It’s difficult, persuading a demiguise to take his pills when he can see the future coming.

Some of these, he can give them. Some of these, because he loves them, he can’t. He says goodbye to Frank. He bargains a compromise with Pickett that won’t put the bowtruckle’s health at risk. He slips Dougal’s medicines into his food and forces himself not to react until at least an hour after they’ve been eaten. He cries when Addie calls for him, and he cries again after a week when she’s settled enough in her new home to stop.

“I miss her,” he admits to Bhudi, one afternoon in May when the jarul are flowering and he finally made it to India. “I checked on her, and she’s doing so well - I think she’s going to have cubs soon. But I miss her.”

“You love her,” Bhudi says, worn and wrinkled and beautiful. “It’s hard to let go of those we love, even if we have no choice. We think it should be enough to know that they’re happy, but sometimes we’re selfish, and that’s ok.” She smiles, and teases, “It’s nice when they come to visit, at least.”

“You were hard to find,” Newt defends. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Do you want to come?”

Bhudi laughs, and tells him to stop worrying about old women when he has something so important waiting in England.

“America,” Newt corrects. “And one thing being important doesn’t make anything else any less so.”

It’s still on his mind when he marries. In his vows, he promises to value this one person above everything else, to put them first, to love them before all others - and it sits wrong. He feels like he’s lying. How can he love one person more than all the dragons that died, more than the niffler that started his journey round the world, more than the monkey he once released from a rope snare trap? He knows so many languages now, even if some of them he lacks the tails to speak, but he doesn’t know how to explain the words that stick inside his throat.

“Newt,” they say, he says, she says, it doesn’t really matter who they are. “I know you. I know who I married. I love you, and you love me, and that’s enough.”

Is it? Because there’s a world, such a big world, with so many creatures and so many people and all of them are so deserving of love but Newt is just one person and how can he save them all how can he make people see how can he ever be enough -

He has a son. Galton Scamander. In time he has a grandson, Rolf Scamander, and in time after that two great grandsons, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

Addie has a son as well, and two daughters. They don’t have names - not that Newt can pronounce. They hang back warily but Addie prowls forwards and butts her head against his chest, and she still knows the gestures he taught her and the gesture she uses for him is the same as she taught her cubs to use for her.

The niffler has more children than he can keep up with. She dies, in the end, because she is small and nifflers don’t live that long, but she passed her thieving ways on to her children and Newt’s sugar spoons are never safe.

Pickett doesn’t die. His life is tied to his tree. Newt tried so hard to make him bond to an oak, a great sweeping elm that would live for centuries, even a yew that would grow and keep on growing - but Pickett is bound to the tree he chose because Newt would be sad without him and Pickett would rather he not be.

There are no hard words when Newt divorces. Only an apology and an acceptance and a thank you for twenty seven years, and if both of them cry they do it in separate rooms on separate siblings’ shoulders. It is enough, sometimes, to have twenty seven years of happiness and leave it there.

Newt doesn’t cry at Bhudi’s funeral. He wasn’t there, he didn’t know; but when he next goes to visit he is taken to the place her ashes were released, and her daughter hovers awkwardly and decides to leave him to it, and Newt walks until he finds a feather on the ground and tells it in his first language that he doesn’t know what he’s doing and he misses her and he’s trying so hard but he can’t -

He hears a monkey calling out in the darkness, and he stops. He breathes. Pickett crawls up to his shoulder and starts fussing with his hair. When he starts talking again, he tells her about the next book he’s writing, the dragon sanctuaries that are going to open soon, the changes he’s made to the way creatures are taught about at Hogwarts. He tells her about a friend of his who’s just retired from running a bakery, and his son who’s learnt to fly and gives Newt a heart attack every time he goes up on a broom. He tells her about the sunset he saw and the trees he found and the tracks in the forest that belong to something new. He tells her about the world, and everything he loves about it, until he runs out of voice and he tells her everything by saying nothing at all.

In 1997 when he is a hundred years old a boy called Harry Potter breaks out of Gringotts riding the back of a dragon. It’s a Ukranian Ironbelly, scarred from the war, and when it finds Newt it croons, low, gentle rumbles like it’d use to soothe a frightened hatchling.

He is old, now, and he doesn’t run around the world fighting battles for the creatures he loves. But the dragon - his dragon - he digs in his heels and he digs in his cane and he fights until she’s free, because he loves her, because he thought she was dead, because she is old like he is and she failed to guard a vault so she is of little value to the goblins but she’s worth so much more to him.

“She has to live in a sanctuary,” they caution him. “Dragons are too dangerous to be allowed to run wild.”

“And yet people can go where they please,” he retorts, run down and tired and still not ready to stop. But he is no longer naive enough to believe that a dragon without fire is safe from those who would use it; the sanctuary is as much for the dragon’s protection as for anyone else’s.

He takes a month to sort things out. He lives in the old house in Scotland, where his grandmothers used to teach him Gaelic on the sly and make him promise not to let his mother know. There are hippogriffs, and kelpies, and an ever growing hoard of nifflers - he makes arrangements for them all, as best he can.

In the autumn, he packs his life into a beaten up old suitcase, tells Pickett to hold on tight, and apparates to the sanctuary. The dragon lifts her wing and drapes it over him, and Newt rubs poultices into her old scars, and in the evenings the dragon keepers gather round the fires with mugs of whiskey-spiked tea and Newt teaches them how to identify birds from the feathers they leave.

He meets Lorcan and Lysander there, in the sanctuary. They are small, like he was once small, and they will grow to be curious, like he still is. Their mother believes in creatures she cannot see and loves them from the clues she finds, and Newt smiles and asks her name four times and doesn’t remember it and when she goes he looks at the cork necklace in bemusement and wonders why it seems important.

He dies in the spring. There are no jarul flowers, because he is not in India, but there are primrose, and crocus, and blue forget-me-nots - and between them tiny speedwells, close to the ground and small and easy to miss but no less valuable for it.

He leaves behind a dragon on the side of a mountain who can stretch her wings and fly, and a nundu on the open plains who can roam with her pride in tow. He leaves occamies and kelpies and demiguises and nifflers, he leaves the knowledge that hippogriffs bow to say hello and thunderbirds should never be forced to stay on the ground. He leaves children and grandchildren and great grandchildren, he leaves generations of students who are taught what it means to love something, he leaves a world that is still struggling and still in need of so much more - but that is, in a thousand tiny ways, so much brighter than it would have been without him.

He doesn’t leave Pickett. He is Pickett’s tree. Pickett will follow him wherever he goes, because without Pickett he will be sad, and Pickett loves him too much to allow it.

They bury him at the sanctuary, his ashes safe beneath the rock he used to lean his cane against, and the dragon keepers take up the job of rubbing poultices into the Ironbelly’s old scars. At his funeral they call him a hero and a fighter and a good man, and his brother wheels his way to the front and calls him an idiot boy who got expelled for caring too much and never learnt to stop.

A year after he died, a special edition of his first book is released. It lists the creatures he’d found up until that point in his life, and his notes about what he’d learnt - though the book is prefaced with a caution from his grandson that some of the information was now out of date, and that Newt’s later books refined and corrected a lot of his thoughts. Still, though, there’s something beautiful about the book, raw and unpolished, with no ministry classifications, and illustrations that are at times more enthusiastic than precise. The side notes give a glimpse into the life of the man who wrote it, cautions about nifflers and their attraction to cufflinks, and a winding diatribe on the frustrations of moulting season when the entire nest of occamies have taken residence in your bed.

Between the nifflers and the occamies there’s an entry for nundus. It remarks that they have no concept of how large they grow, that they believe themselves to be lapcats despite being significantly heavier than the owner of the lap in question, and worries that their fondness for scones and jam will do bad things to their teeth. The entry comes with a postscript saying that in the original printed version the ministry had decided nundus were too lethal to be so carelessly written of, and had replaced Newt’s text with one they felt more accurately represented the threat of so large and dangerous a beast.

“Dangerous?” the newest generation of magizoologists said, setting up habitats, warding off breeding grounds, relocating people to places they won’t disturb the latest litter of cubs. “Well, yes. It doesn’t make them any less worthy of being loved.”

#newt scamander #pickett #addie the nundu #i got some bad news today #writing this helped #long post #my writing

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ghostgetter · 3 years

Text

That would be Gold Rush

When Keith thinks of Lance, he thinks: loud, eccentric, supercilious. Over the years, he’s had the luxury of learning more about him, like how he’s exceptionally considerate, especially when anyone around him is at their lowest point. Or how passionate he is about the things he loves. Or, even, regardless of his occasional arrogance, Lance was actually pretty good at the things he put his heart to.

Sharpshooter, indeed.

Now, after wars have ended and the peace has claimed everyone’s hearts, there is a certain epiphany Keith has had for his righthand man.

He may potentially, possibly, in some fashion, be in love with him.

It is utterly horrifying.

Keith has fought aliens twice his size, defeated empires, lead the most powerful robot and defended the universe, but this makes his skin crawl.

Whenever Hunk talked about legitimate romance and his love for Shay, Keith never thought twice about what it was like. Love and being with another person never came close to his ideals and imaginations while he was growing up. He needed to be with the stars, to find what was calling him. A lone-wolf that yearned for a family.

Now? Now he yearns for Lance.

Quick brushes of hands, stories of his family, his compassion and support when Keith would feel like collapsing in on himself after a rough assignment with the Blade. His overall being, which has now collected in his own imagination when he lies in bed, or in a tent in a galaxy far from Earth, where Lance is next to him, holding his hand and simply existing.

Keith doesn’t think he’s wanted something more in his life.

Like water rushing his veins, he comes back to Lance snapping his fingers in his face, his own way, way too close as he leans forward on the McClain’s sofa. It almost looks like his Altean marks are sparkling.

“Universe to Keith.”

Keith blinks several times, trying to right himself. He pushes his hand out of the way, “The snapping is unnecessary.”

“It is when you’re in LaLa Land,” Lance says, going back to swigging his beer back. “You weren’t even listening to me about Veronica!”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes, “Long mission.”

“S’okay, I figured,” Lance is always understanding and empathetic when Keith visits the farm. He has his mother make the best soup Keith has ever had in his life, next to Hunk’s own, and gets a guestroom set for him and Kosmo, who is already napping upstairs. He puts a warm hand on Keith’s shoulder, and of course electricity rushes down his arm, sparking in his fingertips. “We can just watch NASA and make fun of them if you want.”

Keith smiles softly. Shiro’s always been the brother he’s needed growing up, the shoulder to lean on, the support he desperately craved. Lance is his own brand of supportive. Carefree and funny and kind. He’s like gold, rare and sought after by hundreds. “I’m okay. Tell me about Veronica.”

“Well, Veronica became an instructor at the Garrison. Took over for Iverson and stuff, so I think the mental health of the cadet’s is gonna be a bit better.”

“Oh, thank the universe,” Keith says, “I hated that man.”

“I figured, hotshot,” Lance jokes, “Wasn’t hard to miss when you tried punching him one time during class.”

Keith turns, only the slightest bit ashamed, “You were there for that?”

Lance flicks him on the head, Keith recoiling and glaring back, “I was in your class, stupid! Geez, I’m still so annoyed you don’t remember me.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I’m not apologizing for not remembering some of the worst years of my life.”

“The Garrison wasn’t awful,” Lance sets his arms on the back of the couch, fingers brushing Keith’s shoulder. “I mean, Veronica actually wants me to come…join her?”

Keith lurches forward, gaping. “Really? Lance, that’s amazing!” Because from what Keith knows from visits and friends, Lance hasn’t stepped foot anywhere related to space in over a year. Hasn’t gone to the Garrison at all, according to Shiro. Hasn’t had any interest in going to space again, according to everyone else.

“Yeah, as an instructor,” Lance chuckles. “Can you imagine, me? Instructing?”

Yes, Keith thought, Absolutely. And he’d be amazing at it. Because, sure, Keith gave him a hard time back in the Voltron days on his piloting skills, and for some odd reason, Lance showcased some sort of desire to outshine Keith in flying, but he was good. Keith may have been the best pilot, and flew like he breathed, but Lance flew with passion, with pure heart.

Before Keith can voice Lance’s acclaim, his strengths, Lance sighs and shakes his head. He brings his hands to his knees and squeezes them under his jeans. It’s almost like a cloud washes over the living room, and it’s darker. Sadder.

“I dunno if I’m ready for anything…space-related,” Lance says. “With Allura…I dunno. I’m still…y’know?”

Yeah, Keith knows. It’s been a year and a half since the war ended, and Allura left them, left Lance, behind. He knows Lance still holds a torch for her, who doesn’t? He spends his time telling her stories to aliens and humans alike. He nods stiffly, looking down at his own beer before putting it on the coaster sitting on the long table in front of him.

“Yeah, I know.”

Lance takes a drink from his bottle, “Right.”

Right. Keith holds in a long exhale, swallowing instead and pushing himself off the sofa.

“I gotta go outside for a sec,” he says, his mind wandering and his chest constricting.

“What?” Lance sits up, sniffling. “What’s wrong? Um, do you need me to come with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Keith snaps, and he hates it. He hates that it burns off his tongue and how bitter the taste of it is. He walks towards the foyer and turns to look at Lance remorsefully. Lance looks downtrodden and confused, standing up after Keith, because he’s compassionate like that. Because he cares about him. Keith swallows and turns away, then softly says, “I just need to be alone.”

“Oh,” Lance frowns, “Okay.”

He closes the door behind him, and steps off the porch, crossing his arms and just breathes.

Deep, deep breaths, because he will not cry, he will not scream up to the clouds covering the stars he knows shine behind them. He will not break down in front of the hundreds of pink flowers covering the green in front of him, which still gleam in the dark of night.

He hates this so much.

To be with Lance is to imagine myths and legends. Like the juniberry flowers that cover his front lawn, to be in love with him is to wilt and decay eventually. Because, and Keith will attest to it, Allura will always be in his heart. Even if his feelings were to be reciprocated, if ever, he’d always be second best.

Keith never tolerated being second to anything.

He wipes his glove-covered hands down his face, trying to drag the stress with them. His chest constricts and it hurts. He never asked for this, and he remembers telling Shiro that once he figured out he’d fallen in love with Lance after too many recollections of their time together in Voltron, Lance’s support, the fucking abyss that showed the wisps of his past and future; of a scrawny boy with short brown hair standing up to Keith’s bullies, of a taller boy with looking out to the sea with a ring on his finger, slowly turning towards Keith before blinking out of existence, too scarce to tell who it was but Keith knows now it was Lance. It was always Lance.

“Ugh,” he finally voices, fingers grasping onto his leather jacket. “I’m such a dipshit.”

He knew how Lance felt about Allura. And frankly, Keith knows how Lance feels about him: a guy that runs away from his friends, his feelings. It sweats off his body, out of his pores; it’s not like he hides his traits well.

“Keith?”

Because of course he’d follow after him, even when he asked to be alone. That’s Lance, after all. He turns around as the wind whisps at his longer hair. Under the porch light, Lance’s skin twinkles like gold.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Keith chokes out. He curses at himself, emotion wrapping around his throat. He sniffs, rubbing at his nose. “Fantastic.”

Lance is silent for a moment, watching him, contemplating. He tilts his head and looks on sadly, before opening the door behind him. “Come back inside. I’ll grab your 80’s movie pack and make some hot chocolate.”

Keith crosses his arms, looking away, because he can’t look at Lance under a spotlight as if he’s some…some celestial being. His hair even falls into his eyes handsomely when he looks at him, waiting, and Keith doesn’t want to fall any farther than he already has. He needs to reverse these feelings, in anything. Slam on the control shift and buck his ship out of here.

But Lance is like the Sun, and Keith succumbs to him like gravity.

After a sigh, he walks back up to the porch, up to Lance, who closes the distance and brings Keith into a tight hug. He wraps his lengthy arms around him and pulls him in close. Keith’s eyes widen, shocked and overwhelmed with the feeling and the scent of Lance, until his nose tickles against Lance’s soft skin and suddenly he’s calm again. He breathes in deep and wraps his own arms around him, turning his face into a steady shoulder.

At least Keith has this.

#klance #fanfiction #voltron #xxmine #yo...i did it i'm that deep i finally.....did it #btw. post canon so like. lance has his marks if that bothers you!!!!! sorry #otp: we had a bonding moment

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softboywriting · 4 years

Text

Haven Port | Chapter Three | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Shawn and his pack have moved to your tiny town of Haven Port. You’ve never met werewolves other than your dad before and you’re infinitely curious. You may be only half werewolf but you and Shawn have a connection that will send you on a wild romantic journey in this small town you call home. [hybrid reader] [werewolf shawn]

Word Count: 2.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

You wake up and immediately you're confused, not familiar with your surroundings. Then it hits you, you're at Shawn's place. You sigh softly and relax. You're laying half on his chest, his arms around you, legs all mixed up with yours. He's snoring, soft little noises coming from his open mouth, warm against your cheek. You're not sure what time it is, to guess you'd say it was still some time in the middle of the night.

The wind rattles the windows and from your place in bed you can see the white snow flying about endlessly. The storm doesn't seem to be getting any better. By morning the world will be coated in a fresh several inches of snow.

Shawn stirs, hugging you close, then rolling you under him so he is laying on top of you. “Go back to sleep.”

“The storm hasn't let up."

"Mmm it's fine. I promise I'll make sure you're comfortable if you have to stay."

You duck your head against him and he tangles his hand in your hair. You close your eyes and fall asleep wrapped in his warmth.

When you wake a second time the bed is empty. The sun shines through the window, reflecting off the bright snow outside. Shawn's side of the bed is cool as you stretch and take in your surroundings. It feels so strange being in a bed that isn't your own. It's much softer, warmer too and it smells heavenly, like cologne and fresh laundry. You don't want to get up, but you have to pee and the bathroom is downstairs.

You pass two open bedrooms on the way, one that you guess is Ava and David's judging by the colorful decor you see inside. That definitely seemed like Ava. The bathroom is on the other side of the stairs when you go down and as you turn to go down the hall, you hear Shawn talking. He sounds upset.

"Who wants to explain last night?" Shawn asks just as you slip into the bathroom. You close the door enough so that it doesn't latch but you can still hear and not be seen.

"Explain what?" Ryan asks.

Shawn scoffs. "The greeting you gave our guest."

"We greeted her just fine?" It's Lindsay's voice.

Shawn growls low and guttural, it sends a shiver down your spine. "The two of you were extremely cold to her. Lindsay, Ryan, want to talk about that?"

"I guess she wasn't what we expected." Ryan says nonchalantly. "We were expecting a wolf."

"Is she not a wolf?"

Lindsay scoffs and Shawn must do something because she clears her throat immediately as if covering with a cough. "She's a hybrid, Shawn."

"And?"

"And she's just...not what we expected."

"Listen. All of you, but particularly you two. We do not discriminate against hybrids in this pack. I will not stand for it. If any of you say another word about her or her upbringing and I hear about it, there will be consequences. Am I clear?"

There's a chorus of "Yes Shawn." And then silence. You back away from the door and sit down to use the bathroom. You knew they didn't like you, you just knew it. These wolves were no different than humans, judging you for what you are and how you look. Was there anywhere you'd fit in?

______________________

"You awake?" Ava asks as she opens the door to Shawn's bedroom. "Shawn and Ryan went out to shovel out the cars and I thought maybe you could join me in making breakfast."

You roll over and look at the girl in the doorway. Her pajamas are adorable, little ducks and hearts all over a bright pink and yellow background. "I think I'll just stay here."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Well..." You sigh and Ava steps in, closing the door. "I don't know if I fit in."

"Because of last night?"

"Yeah. I don't want Shawn to make everyone like me."

Ava sits on the bed and lays her hand on your shoulder. "Shawn loves you. He does. He might not admit it yet, hell, he might not even know it but he does."

"That's insane. We've basically just met."

"I know. I know." Ava giggles. "You and Shawn are definitely mates. Not all the wolves understand that, or realize it yet Lindsay and Ryan are from a pack that used to exile hybrids, they're still acclimating to a different life. And Jo...well I think I know why she was so quiet."

"Quiet?" Jo wasn't quiet, she was just as bad as Lindsay and Ryan. You want to tell Ava what you heard, but what if she tells Shawn? No. No drama.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Jo has been in love with Shawn since she joined the pack. She's the youngest of us all. She is Shawn's friend's sister and left with him when he split from his old pack."

You curl up tighter and sigh. This is so overwhelming. You had no idea wolves were this complicated. Mates, packs, dislike of hybrids. You don't fit in here, you don't fit in anywhere.

"I just want to be alone." You pull the blanket up over your head. "Thanks for talking to me though."

Ava rubs your side and stands up. "You'll fit in just fine. It'll take time."

You remain quiet as she leaves. As soon as the cars are dug out you ask Shawn to take you home. You don't belong with wolves, you belong in town with Parker and your teas and coffees and rugged old boat captains who treat you like a long lost daughter.

____________________

"Are you sure you don't want me to shovel out your walkway?" Shawn asks, leaning toward you across the center console of the Jeep.

You shake your head, standing outside the Jeep with your hand on the door to close it. "I'm fine. I'll get to it in a while."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Um, yeah, I guess."

Shawn furrows his brow. "Something wrong? Did I do something to upset you?"

"No, no...I just think I need some time alone. Meeting everyone was a lot."

"Oh. Uh, well, let me know if you need anything. You have my number now."

You nod and hold up your phone. "Got it right here. Bye Shawn." You close the door and start tramping through the snow toward your front door. It hurts, saying goodbye. It feels so final. He didn't do anything wrong, in fact if you could spend all your time with him you would. But his pack isn't fond of you and he wasn't going to choose you over his pack, you'd never expect him to do that. It was best you just ended this now.

_____________________

A week passes before you see Shawn again. It's your own fault, you've been dodging him. Faye says you're being stupid, that his pack doesn't understand you yet, that you're running away without giving him a chance. At night you can't sleep, body aching for his touch. It's like a drug, once you've had it you can't get enough. You have laid awake every night wondering if he was right about mates, and if there was something to that business.

It's Monday, officially nine days since you last saw Shawn and the bell over the shop door jingles. It's a little late in the day, usually customers stop coming around ten and it's well after noon time. You look up from the coffee grinder you're wiping out and see Ava.

"Hey, there you are!" Ava says in relief. "We thought maybe you left town. I've been so worried about you!"

"No, I'm here." You set the grinder aside and go to the order counter. "I'm fine, just working. Did Shawn send you?"

"No, I came on my own. Shawn is a mess." She sighs and folds her arms over her chest. "He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he just goes out in the morning and then comes home late. I've got no idea where he's going, but I really hope it's to work."

"He works, he got a job?"

Ava looks around the shop. "Yeah, I think he got a job at the docks. David did too and he works the morning shift, they put him in the parts room. Ryan and Lindsay work out of town at a temp place in Jonesville. But anyway, Shawn has been in a foul mood lately, when he is home he's snappy and annoyed. I'm pretty sure it's because you're avoiding him, he's heartsick."

"I am not avoiding him." You fidget with a paper stir stick, avoiding her eye contact. "I've been working...and so has he obviously."

"But you don't reply to his texts or calls."

"How'd you know that?"

"Because he told me." She leans on the counter and gives you a soft smile. "He wants to see you, why are you avoiding him?"

You cross your arms and start to pace the length of the back area. "The pack doesn't like me. I can't be around people who are going to mock me. I like Shawn, I really, really like him, but it's not going to work. I separated myself to make things easier."

"The pack doesn't know you yet. They didn't even try, but you didn't either."

"They made fun of me!" You tremble, feeling like a child tattling, but you don't care anymore. "They think I'm a freak! Ava they don't like me and they never will."

"Whoa, hold on. Who made fun of you?"

"Jo and Lindsay. They were talking about me in the hall after dinner that night. They were mocking my ears and how they move." You clench your jaw as you bite back tears.

Ava walks around the counter and puts her arms around you. "Did you tell Shawn?"

"No."

"You should have. He's the alpha, he will talk to them."

"No. I didn't want to start drama and make them hate me more."

Ava rubs your back slowly. "You need to talk to him. I can send him to your place when he comes home tonight. Just talk to him."

"I can't. He would never choose me over his pack." You sniff softly. "I'm just some girl he met and I'm way too emotional about it."

"You're his mate." Ava steps back and holds your face in her hands. "Don't forget that. It's not something that's going to just go away. He will choose his pack and his mate."

"How am I his mate? I just...it's so much to understand. We just met and I'm having all these feelings and I don't even know him that well yet." You pull away from Ava and lean against the far wall, hoping the cold of the brick will help relieve some of the stress. "I'm overwhelmed."

Ava nods and smiles softly. "Being a mate can be overwhelming even for a person who grew up with wolves, I can't imagine how it feels for you. But I can tell you that hiding from him is not going to solve a thing."

"What do I do? What do I say?"

"Start with talking to him. Seriously, just talk to him and you'll find things just come naturally. I'll send him to your place as soon as I see him."

"I guess." You sigh and thank her for stopping by. She invites you to the store with her and you close up shop, having filled your online orders earlier in the day. Maybe talking would be good, because hiding sure isn't solving anything.

_____________________

Just as you're getting ready for bed later that night, a knock on the front scares the shit out of you. You're not sure why. Maybe it's because you're not used to visitors, or maybe because you are so on edge about seeing Shawn. You pull on your night shirt and head down the stairs to see Parker sitting at the front door, fur raised on the back of his neck. Strange, he never got this way unless he was stalking a bird through the window.

"Scoot over you crazy cat." You look through the peephole and see Shawn standing on the porch. He's got his hands in his pockets and he's looking around anxiously. "Oh, it's just Shawn," you mumble and pull open the door, shooing Parker away with your foot.

"Hey, Ava said I should come by." Shawn says quietly. "I've been meaning to but..."

"But I've been dodging you."

"Yeah." He smiles weakly and you open the screen door to let him in. "You're hard to find when you don't want to be found."

You close the door and press your back against it. "I can hide when I need to."

"Why did you need to? What happened?"

"N-nothing."

Shawn steps close, hand sliding along your cheek as he cups your jaw. "Don't lie, I know something happened. Tell me who hurt you."

"I-" You swallow harshly. He's looking at you with so much concern it hurts. You haven't seen a look like that since you were a child and your mom scooped you up after you broke your arm when you fell on your bike. It's a pure form of love and you can't comprehend how he has this look for you. "It's the pack."

"Jo, Lindsay and Ryan?"

"Yeah...Jo and Lindsay." You look away and he moves your head back up to look at him. "I heard them making fun of my ears. It's fine, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm-"

"But it does hurt. I can see it. You're hurt because you thought they'd accept you, I told you that they would." He drops his hand and curls his fingers around yours loosely. "They know better."

"This is what I'm afraid of, making you choose me over them. I was doing you a favor by staying away. I don't belong with wolves, I-"

"A favor?" He laughs curtly. "Staying away did no one any favors. I've been in a shitty mood because I couldn't be with you and I know I've been snapping at my pack since last week. I've been trying to find some way to get back to you and to hold you. This last week has been awful."

You look down, eyes wet. "I'm sorry."

"No," he drops one hand and tilts your chin up. "You didn't do anything wrong. You thought you were doing the right thing, you were scared. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me or come to me about this."

"I don't know what to do. I've never been a mate and I feel like I barely know you, but I've also known you forever somehow. I feel like everything has happened so fast and I haven't had time to process and understand any of it."

Shawn steps back and shrugs his coat off. "We'll talk. I'll answer every question you have."

"But it's late."

"And you need answers. Come on, we can sit in the living room or wherever you're comfortable."

You peel yourself away from the front door and go to the stairs that lead to your bedroom. "My room. The bed is comfortable and if I fall asleep, then I won't get a back ache like I do on the couch."

"You're sure? You want me in your room?"

"Yes...I need it."

Shawn takes your hand and looks up the stairs. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

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

Please send feedback in asks, replies or reblogs. Let me know if you’d like to read more of this story. Thank you so much -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes au fic #shawn mendes werewolf au #shawn mendes werewolf fic #shawn mendes stories #shawn mendes fics #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fan fic #haven port

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willowaudreykeyes · 3 years

Text

Red Stains On The Sun

Warnings: Self-harm, bullying mention, racism mention, blood, knife, injury, wing injury (non-permanent), facial scars, paralysis mention, swearing

Medusa-esque Remy, Dragon Janus, Indian Janus

@ladyedwinya @sparrowofsong @5am-the-foxing-hour

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Remy

Despite the amount of coffee that I drink weekly, it’s surprising that I’m not as antsy and jittery as I am right now. The weapons stowed away behind my enchanted sunglasses dart between every person on the street despite my insistence to look between my phone and coffee cup. It’s a Medusa’s instinct I guess; but I don’t have the time to explain why forty people in the street are paralysed in place. I’m uncharacteristically worried and my coffee cup is both too full and too empty for my liking; so I’d only be grumpy and irritated to whatever copper that stopped me.

My best friend, a sarcastic but secretly loving bitch, is way too quiet after the last week of constant tears and comforting, so sue me for being worried about him. The very act of being weak in front of others is so unlike Janus already, and now he’s just silent instead of deflecting the topic by ranting about another or constantly denying the building tears in his eyes.

It’s strange and I don’t like it.

It’s not normal for Janus to let his calls go to voice mail only an hour after he gets home from school ‒he’d prefer to pick up and tell whatever person who dared call him during his studying hour to fuck off– and even if he had left it to voice mail, he would call back within the hour. It’s been five since I last saw him quickly flying away from school grounds, ignoring me as I called his mobile as he flew away.

I make sure to adjust my glasses properly before rushing on into his apartment building and climbing the stairs, two at a time. I can feel the coffee slosh around in my hand, but that’s what the lid is for. Besides, the carpet is brown enough to not tell the difference between it and a coffee stain.

The few drops of red just outside of Janus’ apartment door sure is visible against his mostly-yellow welcome mat though.

“Janus!? Jan, babe, open the door!”

After moments without a reply, I press my ear up to the door in the hopes of hearing… something that helps me. His parents haven’t been home in weeks because they’re business assholes who went to Fiji or something, so the light tapping sound that I have to strain to hear must be him. Or maybe a pipe in the wall.

“Jan! I know you’re home, babes! Let me in. Please!?” Nothing but that tapping sound replies back to the increasing franticness of my voice. I wordlessly thank the stupid adults who thought teaching a magic-born teenager how to pick a lock was a good idea and put down my coffee to take out the small bits of metal that live inside my jacket’s inner pocket.

With practiced hands, the door opens in under a minute, and I rush inside once I grab a hold of my cup in my now-shaking hands. The small blood drops lead me straight to the kitchen where a familiar pair of snake-themed socks peek out from behind a counter.

My heart stops as I race over to them, seeing the dragon-boy attached to them curled up on the floor, knife in one blood covered hand as the other holds a scaled wing at a strange angle. The sun-dipped scales of his wing are hidden behind a smothering of bright blood, along with the scarred warm brown skin that the blood threatens to hide beneath its foulness.

Words trap themselves inside my throat as his brown eyes, the golden sparkles reflecting the red of his blood scarily well, sit unfocused in the wings’ direction while the knife slowly approaches it. He aims it towards a slight cut that’s as close to his shoulder as he can reach, the blood still flowing from it and hiding how deep it truly is.

My coffee is on the floor, and his eyes are on mine just as I realise what his goal is.

“Fuck- Remy, Y… You weren’t supposed to s-see me yet!” His stained red fingers shakily grip onto the knife tighter, yet sink away from the open cut slightly. The shake in his voice is almost like another person, as Janus doesn’t stutter. He doesn’t freak out and cuss freely. Those precise hands of his don’t shake.

But he does. And he is. Oh fuck, he’s really going to do this…

“Wait, Rem, just… j-just give me… Give me a little longer. Just a b-bit longer...”

“S-Stop…” The lump in my throat hardens and becomes painful as my legs give out, letting me fall to my knees by his side and take the bloodied knife away from his hand before he can react. He stutters in protest as I throw it over my shoulder, making a loud clang as it hits the bottom of the sink, and I take both his hands into mine. “I don’t want this, Jan.”

“L-Liar…” His throat bobs as he harshly swallows; avoiding my eyes as his wings twitch and try to fit him as they sit in dangerously bad positions. “No o-one wants them… Or me…”

“Those bullies are the fucking liars-”

“I’m a monster, Rem…” Jan sniffs as a few tears manage to shift a small trail of blood down a bit, with their only real achievement being that they’re turning his eyes bloodshot from crying. “You know that I’m adopted… Not even m-my real parents wanted me...”

“I do, dumbass.”

I shift our hands so that I can hold them both with just one of mine; using the thumb of my free hand to gently turn his head by the chin to look back at me. I can see the small hairs that frame his face begin to fade back to a dark brown instead of the gorgeous gold that he loves to dye, getting stuck to his forehead with blood and sweat. The specks of gold in his eyes now reflect my dark sunglasses, causing his eyes to darken and make their bloodshot nature more prevalent. The slowly forming frown line that grows every time someone pisses him off and causes him to spout out line after line of insults sits behind the blood spatter that managed to cover the majority of it.

How anyone thought of Janus as a monster without getting to really know him, and how amazing of a friend he is behind the sass and self-defensive insults, is the real monster in the world.

“You may be a monster, but so am I. So are the twins… They’re bloodsuckers, babe. Apart from ghouls, they’re the only ones that have to drink actual blood to survive. And my ancestor was a bitch who killed people and made them into badly-posed lawn ornaments.”

“But you don’t have th… these wings! They’re wings of criminals!” Stupid, dragon racism can go fuck itself. “Th-The stupid, fucking scars are ugly and a headache to look at, too...”

“Your dark scars are prettier than their tanned six-packs and stupid, jock faces could ever be. Plus…” I release his chin to lightly boop him on the nose, gaining a smile as I watch his face scrunch up and show off the dark freckles over his forehead and scarless cheek that manages to peek past the blood. “If your bestie and close friends think that you’re cute and an amazing person, then who fucking cares about what some assholes say?”

His flustered hiss of reply draws out a short laugh from me. While the hint of a smile plays along his lips for the first time in a while, which is all I need from him for now.

“I-I… I apologi-”

“Uh uh. Shush your face, pretty scales.” I shift, quickly kissing the top of his head before grabbing the bandages and wet rag that sat on the bench behind him that he was probably going to use once the deed was done. The thought sends a shiver down my back, but I ignore it and show the wet rag to him. “I gotta patch and clean you up, carry you to the couch, let you pass out on me, then wake up to buy coffee for us both before I clean up the blood and coffee that would be dry by then– but fuck cleaning it today.”

Caffeine can wait; there’s always another cup of coffee tomorrow; Janus surviving this means more than a measly three dollars. Luckily enough, once the blood slows down I can see that he barely managed to cut through the scales and skin of his wing and that he had hardly gotten to the muscle and nerves. I wouldn’t have a clue on how to tell him that he’s fucked up any future late-night flights, so at least I wasn’t too late to stop him. Although, I’d much prefer it if I didn’t have to see any of his blood.

“If you want to try and cut off a limb again, come talk to me first? Please, Janus?”

“... I’ll try to.”

“That’s all I ask for, babe.” I doubt Janus will ever be open enough to tell us when he needs help, but I’m sure he can become a little better at it. The depressing look in his eyes shows how much he regrets doing this; it was probably a hurried thing from the looks of it. So giving him some cuddles to calm him down as soon as possible will hopefully bring back the sass that I know this snakey-dragon can dish out. “I promise that this won’t take too long, and then we can go have some water and crackers before having a nap.”

And while we snack, I’m sure I can think of a few ideas on how a half a dozen kids can become ‘accidentally’ completely paralyzed just before their next big sports event...

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medeafive · 3 years

Text

Blood and Stone - 27

Masterpost

She feels restless. Bobbi only lets her have the baby under her supervision but of course, Natasha doesn't actually want the baby, the thing she tried to murder- It's best if she stays away, lets Bobbi handle it, Bobbi who cares for the baby because that's just what she does, regardless of any moral considerations. Because it’s her job.

Natasha’s job was always to kill. That’s what she does. Hunt and kill. Clint was right, she’s not built for this. She’s used to weed out what’s bad, or what she sees as bad- well, the vampires. And not killing James comes really easy because he’s hard to kill, and because she loves him, and she just doesn’t love the thing, the baby. It’s just not her baby. She doesn’t have the maternal instincts that are supposed to kick in when seeing something small and vulnerable in need of help. The thing may not be a real baby but it still needs feeding, though that’s about the only thing.

Maria seems to be quite disappointed. That’s what really scares Natasha. If it hadn’t been Bobbi there, if it had been Maria, she wouldn’t have batted an eye. She can’t trust herself. She’s scared of what she’ll do if she’s not stopped. She’s scared of the killer she is and where it’ll take her. Maybe the only thing keeping her from killing her baby is Bobbi watching her. Maybe that’s what she really is, all she really is. A killer who would murder her own baby if the opportunity presents itself.

The baby doesn’t do much. Of course it doesn’t. It eats and it sleeps and it looks around with impassive eyes. Natasha really doesn’t know what she expected. How she deluded herself that it would be anything other than this , when she’s literally a professional monster hunter and killer and James is a fucking vampire and they’re in a collapsed society fighting a neverending bloody war they’ll never win, and she apparently thought that was a fine place to have a baby. She really thought she was going to be able to have this good thing when life hasn’t given her a good thing for at least a decade, if it ever has.

So that’s what she’s stuck with now. A baby that’s not really a baby, that doesn’t do anything, that doesn’t need anything, a thing she might just kill unless there’s literally something thrown into her way. And she’s still exactly who she was before, except now, she has to face it.

She's outside when she hears Bobbi talk, seemingly to no one in particular. Can't be the baby. Bobbi hardly talks to the baby. Still better than Maria who won't even look at it, like some superstition, like it's bad luck. Or the devil. Bobbi seems to trust her not to kill it, though, unlike Natasha.

It's a longer talk, several minutes, and Nat drives the axe through blocks of wood while Maria replaces them without a word. Bobbi must have given her a hefty dose of vampire blood because it still hasn't worn off, the axe blade slicing through the wood easily, she's not even breaking a sweat despite the thick jacket. Still no snow but the air is frisk, biting at her nose and eyes and ears.

When she's done, she goes back inside quickly, excusing herself with the cold. Not that Maria cares. Bobbi looks up when the door opens, the baby on a pillow on the couch table. Natasha clears her throat, closing the wooden door behind her. Bobbi watches her with an alertness in her eyes that always makes her stomach turn, not because it's mean but because she deserves it. "Everything alright?"

Natasha nods, sitting down on the couch, fidgeting so she doesn't have to look at the bundle on the couch table. "Were you- who were you talking to?"

Bobbi nods towards a thick brick of a phone, complete with an antenna and all. Probably the only way to get any connection out here. “Fury called. Wanted to know how you’re doing.”

Natasha bites her lip, unable to stop herself from quickly gazing at the bundle on the table. A blank slate, as always, something to project all her hopes and fears on. “Did you tell him about-”

“No, no,” Bobbi interrupts, picking up the bundle and handing it over. “Just said the whole thing is not easy on you. Here, take it, really. It’s your child.”

This feels like a purposeful approachment, designed to slowly reacquaint her with this thing in a healthier way, safely supervised. Natasha’s pulse jumps as she takes the bundle, careful not because it’s fragile but because she ’s fragile, who knows if her mind will twist again and she’ll try to smash this thing on the floor or strangle it or gouge its empty eyes out, she almost sees it-

“It’s alright,” Bobbi repeats, leaning over the back of the couch in a show of relaxation. “It happens. How are you feeling?”

Like a murderer. “Is that all he wanted? Fury?”

Bobbi sighs, dropping her arm. “No. They’re- they’re going to move on the Castle. Can’t wait any longer or the black cloaks will be here.”

A hot flash explodes in her belly. That should be her. She should be there. She may not be able to hold this thing but she can fight, she can kill. That’s what she’s good at, good for. “How’s it looking? Is James going to be with them?”

“They got a plan.” Bobbi watches the head peeking out of the bundle. “It’ll probably all go well but… well, you never know. Yeah, your friend will be the first to go in. We’ll see.”

“You’re worried,” Natasha states, cradling the tiny head.

“It’s weird not being there,” Bobbi admits. “But someone has to look after the baby.”

Because Natasha can’t. “I should go.”

“You should recover,” Bobbi returns. “Really. It’s only been a few days.”

“I am recovered,” Natasha states. “You gave me so much vampire blood- I have so much unused strength and I’m just sitting around here anxiously- I know I can’t do this here, I can’t look after the baby, but I can fight. I know I can fight.”

Bobbi shifts and gets up. “I should show you something.”

Natasha presses the bundle against her chest, tiny head resting against her shoulder, and follows her outside, around the cabin. The truck is parked behind, partly hidden behind trees and branches, covered with a tarp that Bobbi pulls off now. The baby sniffs the outside air, the forest, the wood, probably the forest animals. Bobbi discards the tarp and yanks the back doors open. “Here. I don’t know where Fury got it.”

Inside is a motorcycle, strong smell of oil, black and sleek and huge, more of a sportbike than a cruiser, looking quite massive with its full fairing. Natasha’s jaw drops. It’s gorgeous . “What’s that for?”

“Fury thought I might want to return to the city on short notice,” Bobbi explains, holding the door open. “If we needed something or whatever. Didn’t come to pass.”

Natasha touches the handlebars reverently. It’s real. She hasn’t seen a bike that wasn’t on the verge of falling apart in years. “Can I have it?”

“You really want to go?” Bobbi asks. “You’ve been through a lot. Just physically.”

It’s definitely better than this. “I can’t stay here.”

Maria is not keen on going to the city ever again, which she states in no uncertain terms, so Natasha is flying down the bumpy highway alone, in full gear. The sun has set but it’s not dark yet and every meter she gets away from the cabin, she feels lighter, free. The wind cuts against her helmet, her neck guard, her suit, not gaining purchase anywhere. The only other sound is the roaring engine. The air is cutting cold but she’s protected from it, can’t feel it, and so she speeds over the highway to get to Prague before the night falls.

This is what she does, who she is. Not the baby stuff. She failed but she’s not going to fail at this. This is a task that she’s up to. It feels good not to have to be something she’s not, after all, despite whatever she wanted to be. To leave it behind.

It’s already dark when she reaches the outskirts of the city. She hardly even slows, blazing through the empty streets, turning tight corners, rumbling over cobblestone. The castle is not lit up tonight. She likes that. It fills her with adrenaline, blood thrumming as she cuts through the air fast. This is for all the days the castle was lit up like for a ball at a mansion, the vampires having a feast on the people they killed that night. Turning predators into prey.

She hasn’t been close to the castle in a long time, and only during daytime. Going there at night is elating. She weaves her way up the hill, not hearing the fighting over the roaring of her motorcycle until she sees them, Clint dodging attacks from a vampire with a jagged knife while there are three on top of James wrangling him to the ground, trying to get in bites and scratches, no, four, several beheaded corpses around- she gets light, dropping off without steering the motorcycle off course and it crashes into the four while she rolls over the cobblestone. It’s easy to jump up again, with the vampire blood still running through her veins, she draws a silver gun and shoots Clint’s guy, draws the jagged silver knife and rams it through the vampiress that comes at her first, it’s the one with dark curly hair from one of the hunting parties, she howls, sharp teeth, but the stab wasn’t fatal yet, Natasha kicks her legs out before punching the other vampire so hard she hears his ribs crack, she punches again, fist sinking in, fingers closing around his shrivelled heart and she tears it out.

James is taking care of the other two, she notices out of the corner of her eye, before the vampiress sinks her fangs into the biteguard, ugly screeching noise, Natasha throws her off easily, slipping through under her arm with superhuman speed and slitting her throat from behind before she can so much as hiss. Tumbles down lifelessly. Natasha shoots her in the head with a silver bullet, and the other one with the open chest too, for good measure. James is standing amid headless vampire corpses, grinning widely, and intense relief washes over her. She’s glad to see him, she doesn’t care about whatever stupid shit they were fighting about last time, and whatever the baby turns out to be, she still fucking loves him. She holsters the silver gun. “Can’t leave you guys alone for a fucking second, can I.”

He’s still grinning unabashedly, pure joy, adoration, happiness. “I love you.”

She blushes, despite herself, interrupted by a cracking sound she knows to be the breaking of a spine. “Save it, guys,” Clint remarks, tearing the head off his vampire. “Good to see you, Nat, but we need to move, Sam and Pepper need help.”

And she was mildly worried this could turn out emotional and awkward. James looks her up and down while Clint already runs down the street. “Are you good? You look good.”

“I’m good,” she confirms, starting after Clint but slower. “What about you? Everyone alright?”

“Far as I know,” he returns, stopping. “Come on, let’s take the other route.”

She looks after Clint who disappears around the corner, then nods, and James grabs her and before she knows it, they’ve jumped onto the roof, running over tiles trying to keep quiet, jumping from building to building with the vampire strength running through her. She spots Sam and Pepper barricaded behind a stone wall, the vampires somewhere in an arched passage, occasional shooting. She ducks behind the rooftop to avoid getting seen. Clint comes running down the street just then and barely makes it to a house entrance, bullet at least grazing his shoulder, she can’t quite tell. James is cowering next to her, she can see him counting the vampires. Just one jump across the street to the opposite roof and they could drop behind them, take them by surprise. "Is Clint okay?" she whispers, gloved fingers tightening on the tiles.

James sniffs, drawing the night air in sharply. "Bleeding but not a lot. Should be fine. Do you think you can take them?"

She nods. "Yeah, I'm good. Vampire blood doing a fine job. I can jump on my own."

"Okay." He grins, gold-streaked fangs flashing in the moonlight. "Man, I'm glad to see you. You go first, I'll be right behind."

She's glad to be back where everything makes fucking sense, where it's them against the vampires and James is just the exception that proves the rule. She peeks down on the vampires who must also have caught the smell of blood, sneering. Well, it's good if they're distracted. Makes them easier to kill.

She crouches, fixating the opposite roof like a cat about to pounce. For a second, she starts doubting whether she can actually make the jump but she knows how strong she is right now. She's only been this strong when she killed Pierce, the black cloak, or maybe she's even stronger now. Let's find out.

She leaps off the top, sailing through the air, landing hard on the opposite roof and dropping down on the other side right away, James is already there, it's six vampires and she catches two by surprise, the third one kicks her but it doesn't feel too bad, she jumps right back at him, baring her teeth, knocking back every single one of his punches, slamming his head against the wall, slashing his side open so dark blood splatters, he tries to go for her jugular and that's when she snaps his neck, dropping him carelessly. James is just biting the neck of the last vampiress who screeches helplessly, dark blood pouring from the wound, and James doesn't let up until she goes completely slack.

Natasha calmly beheads her vampires. "I thought you don't like vampire blood."

James spits out, mouth and fangs smeared with dark blood. This is not a clean controlled eat, this is a bloody fight. "Still don't. Bah."

Sam is coming out from behind the stone wall, crossing the street. James turns away discreetly. Yeah, she's not sure they could take the sight. She grins and lets Sam hug her tightly. "Wow, didn't think you'd be back! So good to see you alive and healthy."

That she is. She grins, patting his back. "Glad to be back. Now, any more monsters to kill?"

Sam rolls his eyes and lets go. Pepper approaches her more carefully. "Hey Nat. Are you okay?"

Clint comes out from his hiding place and she picks up the smell of blood. Yeah, that would be an issue under other circumstances. "I'm alright. Really."

Clint looks her up and down sceptically. James returns, face now mostly clean. "I'll go and see whether I can find more. Be right back."

Sam nods and James jumps onto a roof, cloak flaring, and then he's out of their sight. "Gotta say," Sam remarks. "Really useful, your friend."

"Yes, he killed twelve before we even engaged," Pepper agrees. "The six here, Clint, you had-"

"Nine," Clint replies briefly. "One got away, though."

"We shot two," Sam adds. "So 28 dead, out of 40."

"Where are the others?" Natasha asks. "Tony and Sharon?"

"East," Pepper replies. "Haven't heard from them. We should go check."

"Yeah, let's go," Sam agrees. "But I think they're fine."

Tony and Sharon are not where they're supposed to be and Natasha uses her tracker instincts and abilities to find them chasing two vampires. Sam coordinates them around to cut their way off, surrounding the vampires with no way out, and Tony burns one to a crisp while Sharon calmly shoots the other. Plus two they killed before. 32. Eight who got away.

They meet back at the tower and James reports one more that he caught, so it's 33 and seven missing. Fury seems satisfied. Of course, the real challenge is going to be the black cloaks, however many of them. In the meantime, they just have to kill as many as they can.

She meets James on the roof, climbing up with relative ease due to the vampire strength. It'll be hard when that's gone. Maybe she needs another dose before the black cloaks arrive. She'll get all of the side effects anyway. "That's it for your cover, huh?"

James shrugs, pulling her up the last bit. "It's fine. Was always going to happen."

"Not worried that Schmidt will hear?" she asks, settling next to him. "That he'll come here personally to reign you back in?"

James breathes out shakily. "Yes. Very worried. Maybe I can- maybe I can be gone before that."

She hopes he means gone away and not dead. "I don't think he still has control over you."

James laughs drily. "Yeah, thought that before. Turned out to be horseshit."

"Come on," she nudges. "That can't have been as intense as this."

"No," he relents. "Still. I don't know. So, you're really good? All healed?"

"Yeah." Physically at least. "This vampire blood is really crazy. Only took me a few days to recover completely."

He bites his lip, fangs digging in. "And the-"

She tries not to flinch. Nobody else asked about it. "That's complicated."

"So it's not what you wanted," he states, and it sounds genuinely disappointed and not at all told-you-so.

She sighs, dangling her feet. No. It's really not. But she never ever got what she wanted. "That's not your fault."

"It would be different if I wasn't this ," he insists sourly.

"You killed a whole lot of vampires today," she reminds him. "Not fledglings, really dangerous ones. I don't think you could have done that otherwise."

He breathes out in frustration. "Doesn't have to mean I like it."

"No," she agrees, dangling her feet, looking out over the nighttime city. "But you get what you get."

#blood and stone #buckynat #vampire au #natasha romanoff #black widow #bucky barnes #winter soldier #everyone else is in this too but I'm too tired to tag #fanfic #my writing

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crystalgirl259 · 3 years

Text

How to Train Your Dragonblood 3: The Dragonblood Alpha Ch6

Ed and Cliff shivered badly as they flew on Karloff's back over a half-frozen ocean in the middle of a snowstorm. The sun was almost completely set by now, casting the sky in a beautiful light and dark purple with a faded yellow. High above them were dozens of stars starting to appear through the clouds. On any other day, Cliff, Ed, and Karloff would have found it beautiful. But they were too focused and worried about Kai and Jay to think about it.

"He's just like his mother! She could never stay put either!" Cliff suddenly shouted in frustration at his son's stubbornness. When he first met her, Libber may have come off as a little awkward, but once he got to know her, she was strong and uncompromising and was always willing to stand up for those who were helpless. Jay was almost a perfect copy of his mother and most of the time Cliff loved it, but not today.

"He's just twenty, and a Viking; I mean there couldn't be the worst combination." "When I think of how stubborn and senseless you were back in the day..." He trailed off as his expression switched to a hopeless one. "Huh, now not much has changed actually.

"Ah, you know how he's like; he won't give up, and if Jay finds Iron Baron before we find him..." Cliff gulped in fear at the thought. He had already lost some of his closest friends thanks to that monster, he wouldn't let him take his son.

"Nothing can happen to your boy as long as Kai is with him; he's a Fire Dragonblood for crying out loud!" Ed tried to reassure his friend, but it did little to help the old chief. While he agreed that Kai was powerful and cared about Jay, he was more stubborn and careless than his son. Cliff was about to voice his concerns when he noticed something in the corner of his eyes. Below them, a crack in the ice was seen. Cliff noticed it and made Karloff fly back.

As they approached the hole in, Ed leaned on the side and grabbed the floating helmet out of the water.

Sitting back up, he handed it to Cliff who carefully looked at it. He looked back and Ed caught his concerned gaze. Cliff looked down at his dragonblood in determination and offered him the helmet to sniff.

"Find them, Karloff!" He ordered. Karloff took a sniff, memorizing the scent. The Metal Dragonblood growled and started beating his wings faster as they ascended, the storm still raging around them...

****************

It took a few minutes until Jay finally got back to reality. A reality that was getting crazier by the minute. First, he breaks tradition by saving and falling in love with one of the most dangerous species of Dragonbloods, then he loses his leg, and now his mother is back from the dead and living with dragonbloods. Why did things like that happen only to him? Right now, Libber was leading Jay and Kai through a maze of rock caves. While Jay struggled to keep up, Kai was easily able to navigate through the inner ice caves from his past experiences living in the nest for years.

"Ho-hold on! Wait just a minute!" Jay shouted as he chased after his mother through the caves, but he was steadily ignored. Libber swiftly jumped on the rocks ahead of him, motioning for him to follow.

"You can't just say something like that and run off!" He exclaimed angrily as he climbed on the rocks after her, noticeably slower and less gracefully while Kai came after him. "You're my MOTHER?! I mean what the– Do you- do you grasp how insane it sounds?!"

"She does kinda look like you," Kai called from the back.

"NOT HELPING KAI!" Jay screeched at him as they reached a steep slope that Libber climbed in seconds.

"Come quickly." She pressured the couple.

"I have questions! Where have you been all this time?!" He demanded as he attempted to climbs after her but slipped so Kai grabbed his waist and easily pushed him from behind. Jay felt his face heat up and this earned a round of chuckles from the brunette. It really wasn't easy to go through such terrain with a prosthetic leg. He had seen some of the people from Ninjago struggle and he had years of experience. Jay tumbled forward and got back on his feet right after to keep going.

"What've you been doing?! They said you were dead! Everybody thinks you were eaten by a..." He trailed off as they got out in an open, sunlit cavern where hundreds of different dragonbloods were flying around frozen structures covered in greenery. The sight brought gasped of wonder from both Jay and Kai. Kai was stunned to see such a peaceful nest. For most of their lives, he and Nya had been forced to join under that monster's rule and others were born there.

He would have never thought there was such an amazing place that was practically right next door to Ninjago.

As they step out, Jay and Kai glance at a group of baby Dragonbloods playing nearby. They both stepped back when a huge dragonblood flew right over them. Jay smiled at the multitude of dragonbloods flying freely in the open space. He got closer to the rim wherefrom above there was a creek running down the edge.

"Uh, Jaybird." Kai suddenly said and pointed up above them. Jay looked up and gasped when he saw the same Lightning Dragonblood hanging from the ceiling, his mother also holding it. The sapphire-colored dragonblood crooned as it tilted its head to look at them. Jay stared at the pair in shock. He honestly thought that he was the first dragonblood rider, yet here was his mother being so close to one. While a part of him was overjoyed that his mother was alive and well, a part of him was angry at her for being gone all these years.

He wanted to yell at her and tell her what it was like growing up with just a judgemental father and a disappointed village.

To make her feel as bad he felt his entire life. People might say he was being petty, but he didn't feel like that. But if she and the Lightning Dragonblood had a bond similar to the one he shared with Kai then there might be a chance for them to build bridges. His heart was still conflicted about this. Even though this place looked good he couldn't see what was so great about it to keep her away from her home, husband, and child.

"This is where you've been for 20 years?" Jay asked, not sure what else to say at the moment. Libber smiled and nodded as she observed him carefully, her face alight with happiness, hope, and a twinge of fear. Behind him, Kai sat down on a nearby boulder, seeing that this was a moment between Jay and Libber, not him. As he watched his boyfriend agonize on what to do, he was approached by a young Shadow Dragonblood. He chose to ignore the noirette and focused on Jay

"You... You've been rescuing them." Jay realized when he remembered what Clutch said about their fort being attacked. Libber looked around and nodded again. Jay was in complete disbelief as behind him the Shadow Dragonblood started nuzzling Kai in welcome. This caught the brunette off-guard for a second. After living with humans for five years, many of his friends and himself had had to force down their animal instincts. They didn't want to frighten the humans any more than they had.

Kai understood that the noirette didn't mean any harm, but he was worried that Jay might get the wrong idea and didn't want to upset the ginger-haired man any more than he was.

"You're not upset?" She asked a little nervously. Jay sort of was, but he didn't know how to tell her. His mother had been living among a dragonblood paradise while he had to put up with his father's disappointment and the villagers' mistrust.

"What? No, I-I don't know..." He stammered as Kai stepped away from the Shadow Dragonblood who watched him crestfallen. "It's a bit much to get my head around, to be frank; it's not every day you find out your mother is some kind of crazy, feral, vigilante, dragon lady." He chuckled awkwardly and Libber smiled sadly. Indeed, her ideas weren't welcomed. She could tell her son was heartbroken to hear how much happier she was among the beasts.

In the same way, Jay was more at ease on the back of his boyfriend.

With a quick look, the Lightning Dragonblood offered Libber a claw that she hooked her staff around and was lowered down, sliding on a wing. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the Lightning Dragonblood transformed into their human form. They were revealed to be a woman who was around the same age as Libber. She had long auburn hair kept in three separate braids behind her back and pale skin. She has a slim figure, but Jay could clearly make out some strong muscles.

She wore a midnight blue, long sleeve tunic, an orange belt, and black leggings that appear layered.

She had armbands and boots with spikes on the sides. She also had a few layers of cloth wrapped around her waist, with her left leg exposed.

"At least I'm not boring, right?" Libber replied as Jay looked around as an Ice Dragonblood in its dragon form bumped his shoulder and other young dragonbloods started coming over to look at them. They hadn't seen a Fire Dragonblood in years and the only human who was nice to them was Libber. He was hesitant to touch it but gave in when it continued.

"Well, I suppose there is that... one specific thing..." Jay muttered, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Do you... Do you like it?" She asked as she approached him unsurely.

"I-I-I don't have the words..." He admitted, looking cautious and a bit hurt while Libber was acting like a fearful, untrusting dragonblood. But they didn't expect things to be fixed with a snap of the fingers. This was a very delicate matter. Unfortunately, Ninjago people didn't do delicate. Meanwhile, Kai was surrounded by curious dragonbloods. One dragonblood sniffed him down the clothes and then lifted him up with their bare hands. Kai was stunned as he found himself supported only by a stranger's hands.

"HEY! HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE YOU GODDAMN CREEPS!" He roared and they quickly backed off. Libber finally noticed the brunette and immediately got closer to him, hunching down.

"Can-Can I?" She whispered to her son, already seeing his bond with Kai. She had only caught a glimpse of a Fire Dragonblood when one attacked Ninjago all those years ago. She had been living here for about two decades and she had never seen a living, breathing Fire Dragonblood. Libber had feared that they were extinct. At Jay's approval, she crouched and dropped her staff.

"Oh, he's beautiful." She cooed as she lifted a hand for him to sniff then traced her hand through his spikey brown hair.

"Of course I am." Kai laughed along with her and nuzzled her cheek. Jay was little put off by Kai's actions, but he knew the brunette long enough to know he only loved Jay and he was prone to these animal interactions, whether he was in his human or dragon form, even though he mostly only did it in private with Jay and other dragonbloods. Jay was surprised to see his mother right in her element. She was still so beautiful as the pictures Cliff had shown him, and every one of her moves was graceful and fluid.

It spoke of years of trust and attention dedicated to the dragonbloods she had been living with.

It truly wasn't a big surprise to see her get along with Kai, an outside dragonblood, so easily. Kai watched them get along and smiled warmly, happy to see his mother and boyfriend becoming friends. Without realizing it, Libber stood on her knees and kept the brunette's head in her hands.

"Um... I'm sorry, but what's your name?" She asked and Kai chuckled.

"My name's Kai, and I've been dating Jay for almost five years now, he's a great guy." He replied with a smirk as he caught Jay blushing, only to freeze when he caught Libber's wide eyes.

"You're both dating?" She gasped as her eyes kept darting back and forth between the brunette and her son. Jay cast Kai an angry look, which made his fiery boyfriend wince, before looking back to her mother.

"Yeah... as Kai said, it's been going on for a few years now and we couldn't be happier."

"Yep, we've been talking about a summer beach wedding and a little cottage by the lakes for the grandkids." Kai laughed and was soon joined by Libber while Jay spluttered and stumbled to find any words as his face turned scarlet.

"T-That's not what's happening! I-I-I mean, we've talked a-about it but there's n-nothing set in stone, a-and things are t-tough right now and-"

"Jaybird, relax, I'm just messing with you." Kai sent through the link and Jay relaxed almost immediately. Libber quickly noticed the change in mood and it didn't take her long to figure out what was happening.

"YOU TWO SHARE A LINK!?" She screeched as if she had just been told everything she touched turned to diamonds and gold.

"You know what the link is?" Jay asked, but he wasn't that surprised. If she had been living with Dragonbloods for twenty years then she must know all their secrets and probably shared a link with one or more.

"Of course, many dragonbloods only share a link with people they trust and love the most; it's typically only shared with family members such as parents, siblings, mates, or children."

"Do you share a link with anyone around here?" Kai asked, eyeing a few locals still hanging around.

"Um, no, I don't; I've been living here for twenty years and I haven't shared a link like that with anyone, not even Wisp." She admitted, looking a little disappointed, gesturing to the Lightning Dragonblood she was riding earlier. "I'm so pleased and happy for you both that you can have something as special as that." She smiled as she wrapped her arms around her son and his boyfriend, which the couple happily returned.

"Thanks, Mom," Jay muttered.

"Um, Kai, if it's not too much bother can I please see your dragon form?" She asked, feeling very awkward asking. Kai chuckled lightly before he suddenly vanished a flash of red light and a dragon stood in his place. Libber didn't hesitate to look the red beast over, running her fingers over every scar and scale as her eyes burned every detail into her memory.

"He might very well be the last of his kind." She said without thinking.

"Thanks for the reminded." Kai thought as he trilled dejected. Jay glanced at his boyfriend and felt sorry for him. He wanted to comfort him but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to approach the Fire Dragonblood's side while his mother was inspecting him. He settled for sending the brunette as much love and comfort through their link, which Kai was thankful for. Kai then walked around her and butted his head underneath her arm for more attention.

He rolled on his back in her lap as she scratched him as inspected his neck, causing him to purr.

"Look, he's your age! No wonder you get along so well!" She gasped in delight and Jay smiled. Kai was in much better spirits. Libber was very nice and entertaining. It was quite obvious she would be since she was the mother of his boyfriend. They stood in front of each other again, Libber tipped her head up and down like Kai and mimicking his yelps of happiness. "How did you manage to meet such a magnificent creature?" She asked her son, not taking her eyes off Kai.

Libber's enthusiasm was infectious and Jay, Kai, and the nearby dragonbloods found themselves smiling and cheering.

When the couple registered her question, their smiles dropped and almost all the dragonbloods sensed it and took off faster than a Speed Dragonblood could blink.

"I found him in the woods; he was shot down and...wounded." He gulped, a little worried about how his mother would take the news about how he was the one who basically crippled Kai. When he said that, Libber frowned as she stood while Jay sheepishly fidgeted on the spot and Kai looked anywhere but her or Jay. She walked to a Water Dragonblood who was in their dragon form, missing their right back leg, and ran her hand down its jaw.

"Vapore lost her leg to one of Iron Baron's traps." She said as bent down to grab her staff and walked over to a Mind Dragonblood. "Interis got his wing sliced by razor netting, and this... oh, poor Theuros was blinded by a tree snare, and then left to die alone and scared." She whimpered as she carefully took hold of a Poison Dragonblood's hand and he leaned into her touch. Jay nodded along with her as he took a good look at some of the other dragonbloods perched around them.

Some were missing patches of scales, hard to see with their dark coloring, and others had tattered wings, no doubt from flying non-stop and whatever wound they gained from the traps.

He and Kai both stiffened, however, when she pointed to Kai's prosthetic fin.

"And what of this? Did Iron Baron or his filthy trappers do this atrocity too?" She snarled as her voice turned cold and hard as she gripped the leather and examined it and the couple instantly paled.

"Ooohh... hehe, yeah... Huh, well crazy thing is..." He gulped as he swung his arms awkwardly and walked closer to his boyfriend. "I'm actually the one who shot him down." He reluctantly confessed, only to receive a confused and angry look from his mother. "It's-It's okay though, he got me back, right baby?" Jay giggled as Kai shook his head happily in Jay's arms as he kept running his hands over his scales. "You couldn't save all of me, could you? You just had to make it even! So, peg leg!" He exclaimed and he threw an arm around Kai's neck and lifted his foot.

Libber was at a loss.

It really was the most obvious proof of the Gods' sense of humor. Her son condemned a dragonblood and in turn said dragonblood also crippled him for life. Now they love and depended on each other. Kai to fly and Jay to escape life. Kai suddenly shook him off and dove down between Jay's legs, throwing the human on his back as he laughed nervously. Libber, just as uncomfortable, got on her knees to touch Kai's snout again.

"What did your father think of your boyfriend?" She finally asked the second most awkward question for the couple.

"Uh... he-he didn't take it all that well... but then, he changed; they all did." He smiled as a crease of disapproval crossed Libber's face as she listened. "Pretty soon, dragonbloods from the nest came to live in Ninjago with everyone." Jay giggled lightly, still a little stunned at that fact, but his smile dropped when she shook her head.

"If only it were all possible." She scoffed and Jay's blood turned cold at his mother's certain doubt.

"No, really-"

"Believe me! I tried as well but people are not capable of change, Jay; some of us are just born different." She sighed as she sat up and looked at him and then at Wisp as Kai returned to his human form. Wisp suddenly took off to the sky to join the other dragonbloods. Libber sighed sadly as she remembered her last night in Ninjago. The sky was red and filled with smoke as a large Earth Dragonblood flew overhead. As it swept up, she remembered seeing a burning hall, the light illuminating the sky and revealing even more dragonbloods flying around.

Screams were heard and a giant torch was lifted.

"Ninjago was a land of kill or be killed, but I believed peace was possible." She told her son as she remembered the Earth Dragonblood falling down right in front of a charging soldier. As the man lifted his ax to kill it, he was stopped by Libber grabbing his arm. She believed that fighting would only make it worse. But it was a very unpopular opinion. That night was one of the worst raids the village had ever suffered and not only that but the Chief and his family very nearly died.

The Earth Dragonblood quickly go back up and flew away and the man looked at her with contempt.

As he ran off after the dragonblood, Libber looked at her house and saw a dragon getting in through the broken roof.

"Then, one night, a dragonblood broke into our house finding you in the cradle." She sighed as she visualized Wisp walking into the house towards a baby's cradle. As soon as Libber entered the room she reached for a sword near the door. She stopped, however, holding the blade up, when she saw the dragonblood playing with Jay with her giant claw. As she looked at the laughing baby and the dragonblood she lowered the weapon in amazement.

Kai cooed, thinking of his boyfriend as a cute, little baby.

Jay didn't know if he wanted to glare at him or bury himself in embarrassment as his face turned scarlet again.

"I rushed to protect you, but what I saw was proof of everything I believed." She smiled at the memory. When Wisp noticed her, the dragonblood accidentally scratched Jay's chin, making him cry as she turned around on the human, growling under her breath. Libber quickly took a few steps back, holding the sword up. But as she looked in Wisp's eyes, she let it go. This wasn't a vicious beast, but an intelligent, gentle creature whose soul reflected her own.

They looked in each other's eyes and a bond was born.

But then, an ax flew between them. The dragonblood retreated, howling as Cliff appeared, dodging its lightning, as he told his wife to run. Libber grabbed Wisp's wing but she shook her off and turned back to face her. Seeing her cornered, Cliff made his way through the flames to his son. She remembered his husband shouting at her to hold on like she was in danger. Once Jay was safe in his arms, the Chief looked back at his wife to see her being carried away by the dragonblood.

He watched through the hole in the roof as the dragonbloods flew further and further away from him and his crying son.

"You and your father nearly died that night, all because I couldn't kill a dragonblood." She mumbled, unable to look at her son or Kai.

"Runs in the family." Jay smiled faintly, starting to piece things together, as Kai pulled him into a one-armed hug for comfort. There were still things left unclear, but he shouldn't jump to conclusions.

"It broke my heart to stay away, but I believed it would be safer if I did." She finished and a blind man could all the years of pain and sorrow in her face and eyes.

"How did you survive?" He asked, fearing that Wisp had taken her to the nest then they both managed to escape that monster, but Libber suddenly burst out laughing.

"Oh, Wisp never meant to harm me; she must've thought I belonged here, in the home of the great Dragonblood of Creation." She beamed as they started walking closer to the edge. Down below, in a pool of water, was a huge, white, and gold creature with giant whiskers that looked like a beard and hundreds of long shining spikes jutting out from the back of his head and all over his back. Dragonbloods were flying around him and bowed down to him when they got close.

Kai's eyes widened when he saw the ancient dragonblood below them.

Creation was one of, if not the most powerful elements in the world; rivaled only by the element of Destruction and the mythical First Born. Many secrets remained about the true extent of this dragonblood's powers and abilities. Many believed it was just a myth. This white and gold dragon possessed the elements of Fire, Earth, Ice, and Lightning and could affect the physical world in ways that Elemental Dragonbloods couldn't.

"This is the Alpha species, one of the few that still exists; every Nest has its Queen but this is the King of all dragonsbloods," Libber smirked when she saw Jay and Kai's stunned faces at the sight of this giant, stunning creature. "With his icy breath, this graceful giant built a safe haven for dragonbloods everywhere." She smiled as she pointed with her staff at the ice-covered roof of the cave while they walked down.

"Wait, that's the ice-spitter? He's responsible for all that destruction?!" Jay gasped as he looked at the ice-covered roof.

"He protects us! We all live under his care and his command." She snapped, thinking he was being rude. Behind them, a group of hatchlings appeared out of the foliage and converged on a frightened and annoyed Kai. The Fire Dragonblood was only saved by Wisp scaring them off.

"All but the babies of course, who listen to no one." Libber laughed loudly as the babies flew around and hung on the King's face, unbothered whatsoever. The white and golden dragonblood rose and spun to look at them. On the hill they were on, Libber and Wisp bowed down as Jay looked at the giant's head. Even Kai felt intimidated as he crouched lower to the ground. The Alpha stood right in front of Jay, before transforming into his human form.

The Alpha was an elderly man with a long white beard.

He was wearing white robes and a conical straw hat with a tattered cape. He seemed to pull a long staff out of nowhere and walked over to them. Jay stood frozen as his mother, Wisp, and Kai was on their knees in a sign of respect. The ginger-haired man had never once seen Kai bow down to anyone, not even at the nest. This did little to ease Jay's worry as the old man came closer, examining Libber's son. His face showed no emotion as he scanned the young man up and down.

Jay gulped, getting ready to either run, beg, or just stay still as a statue.

All of a sudden, the old dragonblood transformed again and puffed a breath out that covered the two humans and two dragonbloods. Jay, being closer, ended up with his hair covered in frost before returning to his spot in the creek.

"Master Wu likes ya." His mother laughed merrily.

"Master Wu?" Kai asked as they get back to their feet, feeling like they could relax again.

"Yeah, that's his name." She replied as Jay shook his head from the frost and gasped at the impressive creature. "You must be hungry." She smiled at the couple.

"Ah, yeah, I could eat." Jay nodded.

"Same." Kai grinned as he and Jay held each other's hand.

"Good! It's feeding time." She said as she gently took her son's arm and guided them further into the sanctuary...

#how to train your dragonblood #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago jay's mother #ninjago cliff gordon #plasmashipping

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

Hegemony

he·ge·mo·ny (n.) A dominant influence or authority over others.

One cell, two captains and an uncertain future.

(Or: Kidd and Luffy in prison. Let’s talk about it.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Captivity, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Friends

Set in Wano. Spoiler warning for Act Two of Wano. Content warning for... Kidd (= bad language). Read Chapter 2 here.

***

It so happens that, one day, Eustass ‘Captain’ Kidd finds himself in a prison cell.

It’s not terribly big, perhaps ten by twenty steps and bland as all hell to boot. Stone floors, metal bars, a corner to sleep in and a bucket to shit in, nothing fancy about it. Standard fare, not that Kidd would have much experience with that.

There’s no brig on the Victoria Punk. The Kidd Pirates don’t take prisoners.

Of course, the reasons why Kidd’s in the cell aren’t that simple. None of it has been, this whole sordid tale of alliances and betrayal and a war botched before it could even begin. It’s too late for regret, far too late yet Kidd can’t quite rid himself of it, this cloying sensation that writhes just under the surface. Like peeling back his skin is all it would take to expose the maggots and rotting flesh beneath–

Don’t be dramatic, Killer would tell him right about now and he would be right.

And yeah, perhaps Kidd is throwing himself a fucking pity party. It’s not like there’s anything else to do in this shithole, every night spent with his thumb up his ass or dreaming about things he can’t change. His wounds sting as they heal; Kidd scratches at the newly-formed scabs out of sheer boredom, watches blood well up and dry in interesting patterns.

The ones he can reach that is, chained to the wall like a mutt by his remaining hand.

Ain’t anybody here to stop him, anyways – certainly not Killer, wherever he ended up, nor Heat nor Wire or any other member of his crew. They’re lucky if they even have a ship to return to, as things stand.

Kidd laughs, loud and a little unhinged. They couldn’t have fucked themselves over any worse if they tried.

Night turns to day, the morning sun a bright smudge beyond the bars of his cell as it struggles against the smoke gathering above like hazy storm clouds. The guards return for another day of work, same as the last and the one before that.

Kidd gets to his feet. His stomach growls.

He’s long stopped laughing.

By the end of that day, things change.

It’s black as pitch outside, the movements of Kaido’s goons vague in the shadows. There’s no mistaking the sound of a body hitting the floor, though. The clinking of shackles dragging across stone, forceful steps – Kidd closes his eyes and thinks, too slow, as the door slams shut and the bars rattle with the weight of something, someone crashing against them.

Panted breaths, wet. The scent of blood, heavy in the air. Finally:

“Bastards! Come back and fight me!”

Kidd’s eyes snap open.

Ah, fuck.

“Hey.”

Twenty steps up, twenty steps down.

“Shithead. I’m talking to you.”

The silhouette moves, up and down, in constant motion. A beast, caged, heaving with rage.

“Strawhat.”

A growl, “What?”, the word cut short by gnashing teeth. Unflinching, Kidd meets the glare glinting amidst swathes of bandages. They’re spotted black with blood.

“Sit the fuck down. They’re not coming back.”

A minute ticks by, then two. Monkey D. Luffy relents, the dejected frown on his lips perhaps real, perhaps something Kidd imagines. It’s hard to see shit in the dead of night, especially long-lost rivals who by some unholy coincidence decided to show up in the most unlikely of places.

“Screw them.” Strawhat throws himself against the wall with all the grace of a soggy towel, close enough that Kidd hears the strained hiss he exhales under his breath. Chains rattle with every motion.

“Screw this. I would’ve sent them all flying without the Sea Stone.”

Looks like they fucked him up good – sounds like it too, Strawhat’s voice raspy like he screamed his vocal cords to shreds. Kidd watches him settle down, knees pulled up and cuffed hands hanging in-between, limp.

A pretty tragic sight, all in all, not that Kidd particularly cares.

“Think I’m sitting here for shits and giggles?” He scoffs. “Get in line, brat. I’m killing them first”, and it’s not as satisfying a thing to say without Strawhat rising to the challenge.

In fact, the guy doesn’t reply at all. Back against the wall, Strawhat’s eyes search the bit of sky they can glimpse from their spot. There’s nothing to see, Kidd knows: Udon’s nights are devoid of stars, even the moon’s gaze turned elsewhere.

Kidd doesn’t care but it’s been just himself and his thoughts down here for a week now.

Killer would probably shrug it off, if their places were reversed: All this extra time would go into thinking up a plan to get out of here – perhaps get in that nap he’s been complaining about not-getting for weeks now – and… Kidd’s not one for scheming, never had to be. Brawling and killing and fucking, that’s what he’s good at and he’s always done it with Killer by his side.

The thought makes Kidd shift in place. The chains pull taut, the raw skin of his wrist burning with it. How pathetic.

“The hell are you doing here, anyways?”

Smooth is another thing Kidd is not, and it’s good Strawhat is as dumb as the day is long. Which is very, locked in a box made of bare, uncaring rock.

“I’m not supposed to tell”, says the brat, quietly, like he’s trying to contradict every single thing Kidd remembers about him. (Which isn’t much but it’s enough. No one who has the nerve to deck a World Noble and rail against the powers that be at every turn sounds like that.)

Kidd spits, “Fuck that”, and Strawhat just… shrugs. “So you’re still sailing with Law. Didn’t think the prissy bastard would stick around that long. You aiming for Kaido or what?”

Blinking at him, Strawhat’s surprise is apparent despite the bandages. “You know?”

“Are you stupid?” (Kidd doesn’t pause, the question more than rhetorical.) “Some people read the damn paper.”

Some people being Killer, so: Yes, Kidd knows.

“Ah. Traffy won’t like that.” Strawhat rubs his chin, realizes he can’t, pulls with some measure of frustration at the gauze around his jaw. It comes loose, badly done in the first place. Unraveling in the matter of seconds. “He didn’t get caught, though. That’s good.”

There’s genuine relief there, and Kidd laughs. “You mean he turned tail and left you behind. There’s a difference, dipshit.”

Bloody bandages are thrown aside. Strawhat gives him a look, ticked off.

“Traffy’s not like that.”

“Everyone’s like that”, Kidd bites back, a little faster than he means to, and the grin drops off his painted lips. “Whatever. See if I care.”

Silence falls, then, more than tense in this limited space, and while the previous monotony was bad having Strawhat here is worse: Somehow this Strawhat is even more annoying than the bubbly fool with the devil-may-care smile he met that day at Sabaody, all sulky and seething anger yet too drained to do anything about it.

A wildly familiar feeling and isn’t that a shitty realization to have, an hour into their captivity?

It grinds Kidd’s gears enough that he turns his back to him, tugging his fur coat tighter around the bare stump of his left arm. Sleep is going to be a challenge with Strawhat’s gaze etching a sense of danger across his neck; the drag of Sea Stone will get Kidd there eventually and so he focuses on that instead.

Of course, Strawhat pipes up before he can even get close to testing that theory.

“You fought him, too. Right, Spikey? You fought Kaido.”

Spikey? Kidd’s lips press together, a tight red line Strawhat can’t see. What am I, a dog?

“Spikey.”

“I have a fucking name, Strawhat.”

Kidd might as well have said jack shit with how little Strawhat is listening. “I did. Traffy said it's a bad idea and he tried to stop me but–”

Strawhat isn’t known to hesitate like this and really, it doesn’t matter. The haunted edge to his voice tells Kidd the gist of how that hopeless endeavor went, and his memories fill out the rest.

He stares into the dark and waits all the same.

“Spikey.” A strained breath, shivering on the exhale. “Did he get your crew, too?”

The tears are silent yet Kidd knows they’re there. Knows because that was him, a week ago, beaten bloody and furious and suddenly, shockingly alone.

It shouldn’t matter, none of it should.

Crying about it won’t change the fact they’re in here and their crews are out there, dead or alive – and even after a week in this hell Kidd still hopes it’s the latter. That, wherever they are, they’re laying low and still breathing when he finds his way back to them.

Luffy sniffs, loud and disgusting. Kidd closes his eyes and sighs.

“… Go to sleep, Strawhat. You’ll need it.”

>>Chapter 2.

#one piece #eustass kid #monkey d. luffy #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #hi i'm emotional about One Feral Boy #this fic is also on AO3!!#(there's mentions of kidd/killer in this just as a head's up)#chapter 2 should be up sometime next week #my stuff

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

The Prince of the Sea and his Child of Fire - Chapter 2/15 (Rated NC17)

Summary: Blaine is a water sprite, prince of the undersea kingdom and sole heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen and his big coronation, he decides to take a journey to the surface, to seek out a legendary flame said to be tended by an evil witch. Instead of a witch, he finds something else entirely ...

Kurt is a fire fairy, prince of a race of fire fairies and heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen (on the night of a full solar eclipse when he will transform and become king), he sees for the first time in his life a water sprite - a member of a race that he's been raised to hate.

What will happen when these two mortal enemies fall in love? Is there any way for them to escape destiny and be together?

Read on AO3.

Chapter 2

“Kurt? Kurt, what in the world was that?” A fairy dressed in a gossamer gown of pale gold and followed by a trail of pink effervescence hurtles through the air toward the cove, her voice ringing like a crystal bell, cutting cleanly through the night. “Kurt! Kurt! Where are you? Are you okay?”

Kurt rolls his eyes as his younger sister alights on the branch beside him. She had just learned that sparkle trick and now she was overdoing it. She’ll have every hawk and owl in the forest chasing after her, looking to make a meal of her, and he’ll have the misfortune of having to save her.

“Yes,” Kurt answers in a pacifying, singsong voice, “I’m fine. But aren’t you supposed to be asleep? You have lessons in the morning.”

“I was watching you from my bedroom window,” Rachel replies, making a face at her silly brother, “like I always do. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says with a heavy sigh, “I know that.”

“Besides,” Rachel continues, not noticing her brother’s exasperation, “the way the flame flashed white like that, I’m amazed a whole regiment of the queen’s army isn’t down here to check that you haven’t screwed up.”

Kurt balls his hands into fists and squeezes tight, counting down from ten in his head in order to stay calm. He doesn’t want to snap at his sister. She’s not trying to be insulting. It just happens to be a talent of hers. In reality, this is the way she shows that she cares.

By being a humongous pain in the neck.

Still, Kurt sometimes wishes that his sister would care a little less.

“Yes, well, thank heavens I haven’t messed up too badly yet,” Kurt says, his sarcastic tone flying completely over her head. “But don’t you think you should be heading back now? It’s not good for you to be about at this hour of the night. Mother will worry if she finds you out of bed.”

Rachel blows a frustrated breath between pursed lips. “I’m fourteen years old! I’m not a child anymore!” (Kurt bites his tongue hard to keep from saying all the things crossing his mind while his sister rants on.) “And besides, I am a princess, and will become keeper of the flame during the night when you are crowned king. That’s in five days!”

“Yes, it is.” And thank you so much for reminding me. Kurt drops down on the branch beside the flame that is his charge - that has been his responsibility for the last fourteen years. Ever since his wings could carry him, he had been given the task of watching the Eternal Flame. His mother, the Queen of the Fire Fairies, watches the flame by day. It is a necessary duty that only a high-ranking member of the royal family can perform.

Kurt, heir to the throne when he turns seventeen, will become king and take over for his mother, leaving Rachel to guard the flame by night.

An eternity of this, only during the day instead of at night.

Kurt could hardly wait.

“Though I don’t see how I can.” Rachel sits beside her brother, sounding distinctly downhearted. “I don’t know how to tend the fire the way you and Mother do. You’ve had years of practice. You and the flame are practically one, closer than you and I even. And I …” She tuts her tongue and shakes her head, her brown locks brushing her rosy cheeks. “I’m going to be a failure as a princess … even more so than you.”

Kurt huffs and scoots away. Rachel sighs, her wings drooping, her body deflating with sorrow. Kurt eyes his sister, ready to send the wicked menace on her way, but as she sinks deeper into her own ridiculous despair, he can’t help the small smile starting on his lips.

She may be a menace, but she’s his menace. And he loves her dearly.

“Come on, you little pest.” Kurt flutters his wings and rises to his feet, hooking a hand beneath Rachel’s arm and lifting her up to join him. “Pay close attention. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

***

Rays of morning sun start as pinpricks on the horizon, but in no time they bathe the cove in golden light. Kurt yawns, twirling on his toes, stoking the flame higher to greet the dawn, and scowling at Rachel, who fell asleep in a cozy nest of grass hours ago. He yawns again, loudly to disturb her. It doesn’t have the desired effect. But when, in her sleep, she yawns back, he smiles. He can’t stay mad at her, even if he wants to. Even if he deserves to. He could never truly be angry with his sister. The closest to his age of all their sisters, she is the only fairy in his life that he can call friend, even if she is an annoying, obnoxious beast.

The sunlight races across the water to meet him and he knows at any moment she will appear. A shadow sweeps over their heads, circling once before landing effortlessly on the branch beside him. Kurt stops his tending and stares in awe of her.

She may be his mother, but in her regal glory, crowned by the morning sun, she’s a sight to behold.

“Good morning, Mother,” he says, bowing low to the fairy whose body shrinks before his eyes. Queen Elizabeth is a fairy of exceptional beauty - bright blue eyes the color of cornflowers, long brown hair that hangs down past her waist, and alabaster skin - one of the greatest gifts she bestowed upon her son.

”Good morning, my son,” his mother returns, resting a hand on the crown of Kurt’s head. “I see you’ve had an eventful night.”

Kurt’s eyes pop open, the color draining from his cheeks as he stares into his mother’s face. She knows, he thinks. She knows about the intruders – the sprites from under the sea. The sprite with the glowing golden eyes …

“Uh … eventful, Mother?” Kurt stumbles, not sure how his mother will react to knowing there were sprites in the cove – and that he let them escape with their lives.

At least, he hopes they had, that that beautiful sprite who had the audacity to stare at him, open-mouthed like a trout, was well.

Kurt swallows hard as he waits for his mother’s response. She is a fair and kind queen – most of the time. But being a fairy, even one imbued with tremendous magic that allows her to change size and shape at will, she can only express one emotion fully at a time.

When his mother becomes wrathful, the whole of Earth trembles in fear.

But Queen Elizabeth only smiles sweetly at her son.

“Your sister.” She gestures toward the fairy sleeping in the dappled sunlight. “She came down to bother you again, I see.”

“Rachel?” he squeaks, close to fainting away in shock. “Oh … yes. She’s nervous about learning to command the flame. I taught her a few steps, but then she fell asleep the little snipe.”

“She’s a talented fairy for her age but not quite so dedicated as you. If she would stop bothering you at night, maybe she could stay awake for her lessons during the day and catch up,” his mother says with a lighthearted chuckle.

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, nervously nodding his head, “but it was alright. Her visit broke up the … uh … monotony.” Kurt’s heart races, and he knows that his mother, with her immense power, can sense it. She can sniff out a lie for miles and Kurt has never been good at keeping secrets, especially from his mother. She tilts her head as she looks at him, her brow furrowing.

“Shall I take her back to the palace for you?” Kurt asks, hoping to sidetrack his clever mother.

Queen Elizabeth narrows her eyes and stares at him, a frown curling the edges of her delicate pink mouth.

“No,” she decides, smiling again as she begins her dance around the flame. “I’ll let her rest here. When she wakes up, she’ll start her lessons. Why don’t you return to the palace and get some rest?”

Kurt bows again, sighing his relief softly in the hopes that his mother won’t hear. “Thank you, Mother.”

“You are welcome, my love.”

Kurt turns his back to the fire, feeling its heat escape him as he starts to fly away. He spins once he’s in the air, gazing down at the cove, his mother and sister, and the pool where the two uninvited sprites had snuck up on him the night before.

What were they doing there?

What did they have planned for him?

To his knowledge, there haven’t been sprites above water anywhere near the kingdom on the fire fairies since before he was born.

Why now?

He’s soon to become king. Did their visit have anything to do with that?

Kurt gasps. Were they assassins, sent to kill him before he could take the throne!?

Kurt sputters a laugh thinking about how the sprite with the golden eyes had called out to him:

‘Fairy! Hey, fairy!’

Assassins - he thinks not. Not unless they are truly lousy at their trade.

They were curious about him. Curious as he is now.

Kurt had always been told tales of water sprites who lured unwitting fire fairies to the water’s edge and then drowned them. But the sprites he saw didn’t look like they meant him any harm. One seemed afraid and the other … the other was captivating.

Kurt only knows what he’s heard and, now, what he’s seen, but it’s still so confusing. He’s not sure what to think. What if they come back? What should he do then?

He knows what he’s supposed to do, but he doesn’t think he can turn them over to the palace guards.

And he definitely doesn’t think he can kill them.

He flutters back down to the log and sits. He watches his mother dance, envious of her beauty and her grace. So many times he’s felt awkward tending the flame. His feet don’t know the steps as well as hers do, even after many years of practice. His arms do not bend as smoothly. Hers she can curve like a petal, while his are all angles like a thorn.

But he’ll have a lifetime to perfect his technique.

Longer than a lifetime. An eternity.

“Mother?” Kurt asks, swinging his legs back and forth, careful not to touch the water. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Elizabeth says, not halting her steps nor her song.

“Tell me again, please, why we do not interact with those who live beneath the sea?”

Elizabeth’s dance ceases.

Not a favorable sign.

Kurt holds his breath.

“We just don’t, my son,” Elizabeth answers, shrugging the question off and starting again.

“I know …” Kurt ventures forward boldly with his question while his brain screams for him stop “… but why don’t we?”

Elizabeth halts again and Kurt prepares to retract his question, apologize profusely.

And fly as fast as he can for home.

“Why are you asking me this?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “Have you seen one?”

“No, my queen!” Kurt says, leaping anxiously from his seat. She says nothing, her eyes boring into him, trying to unearth the truth. He presses his knees together to keep his body from shaking. “I swear!” he lies. “I have seen nothing! I’m simply curious.”

Kurt can’t contain his trembling, a combination of excitement, exhaustion, and fear seeping into every muscle of his body and fighting for control. Seeing those emotions swirl in her son’s eyes - a well built from the preparations of the past few weeks as he moves toward the greatest transition of his life - Elizabeth takes pity on her son.

“My poor child!” She reaches out a hand and pets his cheek. “Look at you! You are so tired! So worried about such trivial and unimportant things!”

Kurt relaxes. His mother is evading his question, but that’s fine. He prefers her avoidance over her anger. Or her disappointment - both of which he rarely sees. Besides, there are other ways to find out the answers.

“Yes, Mother. I am tired,” he says, yawning for good measure.

“I thought so.” She continues her dancing. “Go back to the palace and get straight into bed.”

“I will,” Kurt says. He catches his mother long enough to kiss her on the cheek, then takes to the air, climbing high until the cove is out of sight and he can see the ocean stretching out from the land. Somewhere beneath the water live colonies of creatures and animals he has never seen, things he couldn’t possibly imagine.

Somewhere beneath the water is the sprite with the golden eyes.

Kurt recalls his face - his open, startled expression; his eyes with their soft light glowing from within; raven curls framing olive skin. The sprite didn’t seem dangerous and yet Kurt tried to burn him. His heart freezes with the shame of it – a wash of regret that weighs him down and almost drops him from the sky. Kurt can only hope that he didn’t kill him … and that he will find a way to return.

Kurt needs to see him again.

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic

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spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia · 5 years

Text

“Forgiveness”: A Ducktales Fanfic with Lena

Dedicated to lenasmagic, a blog on Tumblr.

“Gary, are you SURE you haven’t forgotten anything?”, Pricilla asked with that tone that implied that she was 100 % sure that Gary had most DEFINITELY forgotten something.

Gary rolled his eyes as he approached the pod door of his golden spacecraft that shined and glowed in the bright noon day sun.

“Pricilla, for the last time, I HAVEN’T forgotten anything!”, he complained, fishing in his golden pockets, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Really?”, she asked in disbelief, hands on her hips. She was taller than him, so it always gave him the impression that she was disappointed in him when she did that.

He was right.

“I’m telling you, I haven’t forgotten…”, Gary started, when suddenly it snapped and he realized that…

“…The keys.”, he sighed, resigned to his fate.

Pricilla closed her eyes, triumphant. “Yes, the keys. I told you so.”

“Hey, uh, your keys are here.”, a different voice suddenly rose up from the crowd of moonpeople walking around looking for their earthly… Or, well, moonly possessions.

You’d think that spotting a voice in a crowd of blue and purple aliens clad in golden armor would be difficult.

But hard as she tried, Lena Saberwing (formerly Lena De Spell, niece of one of the most evil people to ever live, but who’s thinking about that) couldn’t NOT stand out.

The teen duck with pink dyed hair that heavily contrasted with her mood, a black and grey striped shirt over a mint collared shirt that gave her a very different feel to the more simply dressed inhabitants of the planet, and most noticeably, purple eyeshadow that gave her a haunting or haunted look, depending on your perspective, stood in front of the moon people, a golden key chain in the palm of her hand.

If Gary and Pricilla knew the years of pain, suffering, self hatred and resentment buried deep in those black black pupils, they may have taken pity on the young girl, who held aloft their way back home.

But Gary and Pricilla didn’t, and space traffic WAS busy this time of year.

“Give me that!”, Gary snatched the keys, momentarily scraping Lena’s feathered palm, making her recoil for a second.

“What you deserve…”, a voice whispered, as it always did when she got hurt.

She had learned to mostly tune it out.

…Mostly.

“Hey!”, she protested, annoyed at the shabby treatment. “How about a thank you? I just helped you get off this crummy planet.”

Pricilla waved Lena’s protests off, as if they were some annoying fly or something, and not a living, breathing person… Er, Duck, in front of her.

“Whatever, young one. Let’s get out of here, Gary.”

Gary unlocked the pod and mumbled under his breath as Pricilla entered their craft.

“Gary do this, Gary do that…”, he muttered, and he lumbered inside, the door closing and the shuttle flying off into the deep unknown of space.

Gone.

Forever.

“Good riddance.”, Lena thought, and she frowned at the departing space crafts, all of which had moments ago been trying to kill her and all her friends.

Her family.

Her only family.

And they were going off scot free!

She kicked a pebble with her left green and white sneaker, annoyed at the injustice of it all!

What if someone she cared for had been hurt by these monsters?

Someone like Scrooge McDuck, or Mrs. Beakley, whom had given her another chance after all the damage she had caused?

Or someone closer to her, like her new friends Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck?

Or even worse: Her new adopted sister and lovable pain in the butt Violet Saberwing?

And Violet’s dads…

Correction: Her dads.

…Her dads. That felt… Weird.

And worst of all: What if Webby had been hurt?

Her best friend had been at the thick of the fighting, literally part of Earth’s last defense!

“But…”, Lena admitted, as she walked up to a hill overseeing the moon men spaceships. “I can’t exactly criticize others for nearly hurting my friends and family.”

Lena shivered for a moment as she got another intense flashback: A regular occurrence, but never a pleasant one.

“After all… I nearly did too.”

Oh no. She was sinking again.

And she was hearing a weird sound again.

One negative thought leads to another. Soon she’d be thinking about lying to Webby about their friendship, which would be followed by trying to steal Scrooge’s number one dime, followed by losing her body to her “loving” Aunt Magica, followed by being trapped for a YEAR as a shadow, followed by almost becoming Magica…

Lena suddenly realized that the weird sound she was hearing was her own hyperventilating, and, not wanting anyone to see, she clasped her beak with her right wind and clenched her left wing’s fist, hoping that she could force it out.

It didn’t really work, but thankfully, a distraction arose.

“So… Moon people.”

Lena had heard many distinct sounds in her life, but perhaps the driest (and right now, most thankfully distracting) sound she had ever heard was the voice of Violet Saberwing, her aforementioned adopted sister/giant pain.

Lena smiled in relief as she approached the hummingbird with a mint green shirt and average expression (though Lena had lived with her enough time to know that there was a small smile that was only reserved for her), and the two sisters stood face to face… Sort of.

Lena was very tall.

“Should that be something I should be worried about? Most kids my age are around her height.”, Lena thought, and she cringed. “Am I seriously getting angsty over my height as well?”

Violet nodded at the disappearing space craft with an educated sniff. “Must say, not only did I think that no one lived on the moon, but I didn’t think they’d be such…”

“Jerks?”, Lena offered, still frustrated with their behavior and conduct.

“I was going to say inhospitable invaders, but sure, jerks in laymans terms works too.”, Violet dryly joked (at least, Lena thought it was a joke. You could never tell with Violet).

The two stood in silence for a moment as the ships continued to lazily leave. There were MANY, MANY ships, so the evacuation would take some time.

Some people, like Lena and Violet, opted to stand and watch the ships go by. There were even those who sat on the grass and ate sandwiches, waving goodbye to the would be conquerors.

Others, though, were preparing to leave back to their homes and their sort of but not really normal lives.

Off the corner of her left eye, Lena spotted the McDuck family entering a number of sleek black limosuines.

She could see Scrooge, Webby still clinging to his chest, stepping in to the vehicle, or at least, trying to, since Dewey tried to backflip in.

She couldn’t hear anything, but she didn’t need to to see Scrooge humorously chide the energetic boy, or Webby giggle that lovable laugh of hers.

Huey was excitedly jotting down something in his Junior Woodchuck guide book (for sure all the “thrilling” moon facts he had learned in the last few hours), Della and Donald were laughing together for the first time in a decade, and Launchpad was trying to reattach the car door he had just broken.

Lena could see multiple faces in that crowd, faces she sort of recognized from the last few days, like that Darkwing what’s his name, and Gizmoduck, or faces that she had known for a long time, like Mrs. Beakly and Duckworth.

There were even faces she was only vaguely aware of, like Qucakfast and Gyro Gearloose.

But even those she didn’t recognize made her feel almost…

At home.

Like they were all one big family.

But Lena was honestly unsure if she could ever belong to that family.

What with…

“No!”, She demanded, furious with her mind. “No, I DON’T want to think about this!”

“I’m better now…”, she said to herself, but less assuredly.

For a few minutes, Lena and Violet sat silently as the ships departed, saying nothing, Lena lost in her thoughts, Violet trying her best not to think about the fact that her adopted sister was clearly suffering again.

Finally, Violet stood up and clicked her tongue.

“Welp, I’ve had all the fun one can possibly have from watching aliens enter spaceships.”

“Zero?”, Lena asked with half a smirk, looking up at her new little sister.

Violet again unleashed that small smile that only Lena got. “Around that amount.”

She looked back at her dads, who were waving at her next to the mini.

“Dad and Dad want us to come home and have a “Post Moonvasion Goulash”.”

“What the heck is that?”, Lena asked, humor laced in her words.

“Whatever it is, it’s going into our beaks. But they’re good cooks, so…”, Violet shrugged, and she started walking out.

Suddenly, she looked back at Lena, whose back was hunched and her shoulders were slumped as she stared at the lonely wet grass.

“…You… You coming?”

Hesitation could be heard, a rarity from Violet.

Not much phased the girl; she was a bit of an emotionless girl (which worried her fathers endlessly, much to her chargin).

However, if there was one thing that upset the bookworm, it was the sight of her new older sister depressed yet again.

Violet, however, was a smart kid; she knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk to Lena yet.

And if anyone could, they’d have to be particularly stubborn.

Violet knew that right now, that wasn’t her.

But she still asked an empty question, one she knew the answer to, hoping against hope that Lena would just come instead of spend the next few hours…

“You go ahead. I’ll… I’ll catch up.”, Lena breathed out breathlessly, her voice as distant as the moon that had brought upon her mood.

Violet nodded, knowing that this was to be the answer. “All right.”

She turned her back to Lena, half a sad look back.

“I’ll… I’ll keep a seat warm for you if you want to play Smash Bros.”

Lena nodded wordlessly.

“Cool.”, Violet remarked, and sighing, she began to walk up to her dads, trying to calculate how she would explain to her dads that Lena needed to feel bad again.

And for now…

Lena was alone.

Like always…

Lena was alone.

As she would always be…

Lena. Was.

Alone.

A light breeze blew gently, tickling her beak, making her wrinkle it.

Her eyes closed as she tried to breath deeply like Mrs. Beakly had suggested once.

Breath deeply, count to ten, and try to ignore the all encompassing guilt of existing.

Easier said then done.

But Lena never did do things easily, now did she?

Entering a lotus position (sort of. She needed to work on that, it wasn’t easy), Lena tried to focus only on good things.

“The past is behind me. The past is… Behind me.”, she said, shivering as she tried to ignore.

She tried SO HARD.

And she was SO TIRED.

“Think… About what you have.”, she said to herself, and she breathed deeply.

The wind blew through her hair, and she thought of Violet.

“I have a sister… And I have two dads. That’s cool. Some people have no dads. I’ve got two. Beat that.”

She took another deep breath, her words unsure.

“I have… Mrs. Beakly and Scrooge and Donald and Della and Launchpad looking after me. And I have Huey, Dewey and Louie.”

She took another deep breath, trying to ignore the terrifying feeling of inevitable depression.

“I have… Webby…”

She imagined herself grabbing hold of Webby’s hand, the friendship bracelets glowing…

Only for a strange yet familiar hand to grip her arm hard, removing the friendship bracelet in the process.

“Ow!”, Lena cried, and suddenly she saw herself back at the beach, contacting Aunt Magica.

“Aunt Magica…”, she had whispered, almost triumphantly. “I’m in.”

“This… Is your fault…”, a voice whispered.

Lena’s eyes widened and she turned to the voice, the waves crashing oddly muted, but her heartbeat pounding like a rocket launch in her ear. “Who said that? I’m… It’s not my…”

Suddenly she got smacked by an invisible hand, which flung her somewhere else.

Somewhere dark and cold.

“IT IS YOUR FAULT!”, the voice screeched, echoing and disappearing suddenly.

Turning around, Lena saw herself underground, lying to Mrs. Beakly over her allegiance.

“You lied…”

Lena looked around, searching for the voice that wasn’t there, yet also was.

“No I didn’t! I mean, I did, it’s just…”

“SILENCE!”, she got hit again, her beak throbbing now, forced tears dropping, lying on the ground, completely helpless.

“No… I…”

Suddenly she heard the tracks and the whistle.

The train was going to hit Beakly, just like last time.

“Beakly, look out!”, Lena screamed, but when she jumped at Beakly, she got hit by the train.

Waking up, she found herself in the shark she had created.

She had created.

Her fault.

Her fault

Her fau…

“Shut up!”, she shouted, eyes closed shut, but it wasn’t enough. The fingers kept pointing, pointing, pointing, changing, transforming, until they became…

“We’re friends, you beautiful idiot! I don’t care what you did!”

Lena wanted to believe that.

She HAD to believe that, it had to be true!

“Look at what you did for a body…”, the voice whispered again, leaving feedback in her ears, but Lena didn’t have time for guilt!

She had to save Webby and herself!

Sliding down like she had, she chanted “With the hand of my best friend…”

Lena glowed blue like she had then, and she could see Webby falling.

An excited smile popped on her face, redemption was right there for the taking!

“I bring about…”

But as she reached towards Webby, the invisible hand choked her, lifting her up from the ground.

Lena grasped and throttled, barely calling out Webby’s name as the duckling fell down and down and down and down…

“WEBBY!”, she screamed, tears falling, her vocal chords nearly damaged, as she got dropped down to the ground…

“TAKE. THE. DIME!”

And here she was, in the other bin, Scrooge’s fabled Number One Dime almost at her grasp, Aunt Magica ordering, demanding her to seal the world’s fate…

Her hand slowly and surely reached…

“NO!”, Lena screamed, taking her hand away, but the invisible hand pulled her back towards it.

A tug of war occurred, Lena desperately trying to go away from the coin, the invisible hand dragging her back.

“Hands off of me, you… Hand!”, Lena shouted, and with a swift tug, she got out of the hands grasp and rolled away just in time to…

It glinted in her palm, just like last time.

“…Oh no…”, Lena whispered, failing to believe that she had done it.

“But why is it so hard to believe, Lena?”, the voice echoed in her mind as she went to her knees and held her head in fear, shame and panic.

“After all…”

Webby’s body fell from the money shark down to the ground next to her.

“WEBBY! Are you all…”

But Lena couldn’t finish the question. As she turned her friend around, the haunting image of a Webby doll stared right back at her.

Lena backed away in fright, barely reaching the wall behind her, gasping and hyperventilating.

“STOP IT! LET MY FRIEND GO!”, Lena screamed at the invisible hand.

“Stop what? What you’ve been doing?”

Another smack and Lena found herself in Magica’s hands, the witch’s face turning into her own, maliciously grinning at her.

“You’ve been using her, pulling her strings…”

Lena tried to escape, but the invisible hands held her tighter as Magica forcibly entered her soul and…

All was black.

All was lost.

Her eyes, her mind, her heart…

Poisoned to the core.

And here she was in the mansion.

Nearly destroying Scrooge’s life, the once great man laying distraught on the ground.

“Mr. McDuck? You don’t have to…”, Lena tried again to help, but the shadows came tumbling down around her, a vortex opening between her feet.

“It’s your fault they almost DIED!”

A kick to the chest nearly stopped her heart and her eyes rolled up to her head and…

Silence.

Shadows.

Nothing.

Seconds turn to minutes turn to hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to months…

“YOU HURT BEAKLEY!”

A punch like a train collided with her beak.

She tasted blood in her mouth and recoiled.

“YOU HURT SCROOGE!”

Her knees tripped and she smashed down to the ground, coughing out blood, her arms wobbling as she tried to stand up.

“YOU HURT THE McDUCK CLAN! YOUR CLOSEST THING TO A FAMILY!”

Multiple punches, kicks, pokes in the eye, scratches and slaps collided, hurt everywhere and nowhere, instantaneous and everlasting, inducing hot tears of shame that melted her face, retching out her soul.

The ethereal brightly lit soul, looking like Webby, reached out her hand, and Lean, desperate for redemption, reached out her hand in return.

The friendship bracelets returned, glowing brightly, Lena’s smile returning with joyful tears, hope seemingly back…

When Webby reached in and removed her heart.

“YOU HURT ME!”, Webby screeched, and pushed her off a cliff, Lena knowing she deserved it…

“No… That’s not true… It’s… Not my…”

Wake up.

Go to sleep.

Wake down.

Go to rest.

Wake on.

Go to the light.

Wake off…

DOWN TO THE DARK.

Lena crashed down, eyes braced for impact, only to be caught by…

“Violet?”, Lena asked, Violet right there, as ever, holding her back.

Lena burst into tears and cheered, nearly squishing Violet.

She smiled gratefully as her tears made Violet’s shirt wet, the hummingbird still silent.

“Violet! Oh my god, thank goodness you’re here! I almost…”

“ALMOST WHAT? HURT VIOLET?”, The voice returned, and Lena got held back as Violet was moved away, her eyes blank and lifeless, next to Webby, her Dads, Huey, Dewey, Lewie, Scrooge, Mrs. Beakley, Donald, Della, Launchpad…

“NO! I’D NEVER!”, Lena screamed back, when suddenly she saw a giant hand reach to hurt her family.

“STOP!”, She ordered, and she shot a blinding magic blast, purple light fizzing everywhere, sparks entering her eyes.

But at least the blast…

“…No…”, she mouthed, as she saw…

Empty eyes…

Limp hands…

Cold, unmoving bodies…

They were…

Dead…

“Because of you…”, the invisible voice whispered, this time almost gently.

Lena sobbed and sobbed as she got to her knees and held her face in her hands, crying tears, crying black magic, crying blood…

“Your fault… You killed them… You always did… It was you… From the very beginning…”

Lena suddenly felt herself changing, yet somehow staying the same…

She felt different, yet familiar…

A mirror was propped up between her and a wall, and Lena looked in to see…

“YOU were the villain.”

Magica’s face stared back at her, cackling.

Lena screamed, and anger and rage consuming her, she shouted “THAT’S. NOT. ME!”

She punched the mirror, but instead of the glass shattering, Magica’s face shattered, turning into…

“Me.”, she breathed out.

“You’re right, Lena…”,the voice said, taking shape as…

“You’re not Magica…”

Lena turned around to see…

Herself.

“You’re you.”

Lena stared back at the other Lena and vice versa.

The first looked like Lena always did, but the second was… different.

Her tears were black, her eyes were soulless, and her body was scarred beyond repair…

For some reason, Lena felt compelled to touch the other Lena’s hand…

So she stepped towards her…

And…

The two put their palms together…

“You’re you…”

Lena, smiling bravely despite it all, tried to wipe the black tears off of the other Lena…

WHOOSH!

It took a moment for Lena to realize that the weird wet thing she felt on her shirt was blood…

Spewing and gushing down from a gaping hole in her heart…

A diamond knife twisting harder and harder into her chest…

The other Lena crying and laughing, smiling and frowning, joyful and distraught…

“You’re you…”, the other Lena said…

“And that’s even worse than Magica.”

Lena tried to speak but no words formed.

The other Lena suddenly pushed Lena off the cliff, her family suddenly appearing, waving goodbye as she soared down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down no hope no hope all is lost all is lost it’s over it’s over I’m lost I’m lost life lost life lost love torn love gone love lost love found love taken pain granted wishes of pain slit and desist and stop and never come back the guilt is you and you are the guilt and your actions never lose their impact you try to swim but you sink because the depths of your shame know no limit and the folly of redemption is but a tick an illusion a n empty promise like your meaningless existence daring you to be anything more than what you are but you know you can’t because to your great and everlasting fault you are no one but…

“Me”

But just before Lena can finally sink to the bottom of the sea and gain everything by losing it all…

“Hey, Lena.”

Violently waking up, as if nothing had happened, Lena gasps and turns around suddenly, the voice now not belonging to herself but to…

Louie Duck.

“…Sup?”

Lena takes a moment to visualize her surroundings.

The Moon men ships are soaring in the sky, the grass is blowing softly near her feet and Louis is standing next to her, hands in his pockets.

The nightmare is over. She really is back.

But was that a good thing?

Right now, though, she didn’t have time to process the raw trauma she had just experience, since Louie was next to her, and she wanted to get rid of him before he caught on.

Taking a deep breath and trying her best to hide the terror and resignation from her voice, Lena said “…Hey Louie.”

Louie kept his hands in his hoodie pockets, a blank expression on his face.

It was hard to tell what he was really feeling, and usually that blank expression was accurate, but one got the feeling that this time it was an act.

“So… You watching the moon people leave?”

Lena nodded, hoping that would be good enough of an answer.

“All alone on this hill?”

Apparently, it wasn’t good enough of an answer.

“I’ve gotta get rid of him!”, Lena thought, calculating options quickly. “Maybe a barb will shut him up.”

“What’s the matter?”, she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Aren’t you busy taking over McDuck Enterprises and sending it down the toilet?”

Louie took it in stride, but Lena could tell that he was hiding his true feelings about that day. “Hey, that was last week. I’m a changed duck!”

“Wow. New Louie is only one week old and already as disappointing as old Louie.”

Lena knew she was being a jerk, but right now that was easier than sharing… All that.

Besides, she didn’t really have a relationship with Louie.

Sure, he had helped her with her nightmares, and she’d forever be in his debt for that, but that was about it.

“Oh, man.”, Lena thought, the hole in her chest hurting. “I sound like such an asshole.”

Louie however, did not take the insult that hard.

“Mind if I sit down?”

Lena did mind.

But it seemed like Louie would not take no for an answer.

Besides, she could just avoid it, she’d done it before!

So Lena patted the ground next to her, not daring to look at Louie out of fear that he’d see through her mask.

“Sit down, the grass is fine.”

So he sat down next to her, albeit with his back to her.

And for a while, the two ducklings did nothing but sit and breath, Lena’s heart hurting and Louie’s mind working overtime.

There were still a few moon people embarking their crafts, but they would all be gone soon, and Lena would have no excuse to stay.

She tried to come up with some kind of way to kick Louie out, but her mind came up with blanks, instead continuing to quietly and slowly hurl more and more guilt onto her.

Suddenly, Louie broke the silence. “…Why are you really sitting here?”

Lena didn’t want to answer.

So she said nothing.

Louie sighed. “Silent treatment?”

Lena still said nothing.

Louie sniffed for a moment, blinking at the clouds. “…Look, if you’re not going to tell me what’s on your mind, then I’ll tell you why you should tell me.”

Lena barely stifled a dark chuckle. “I should tell you? No offense, Louie, but I find it hard to believe that you of all people hold the key to making me feel less shitty.”

Louie objected to this, of course. “Come on! You’re not even willing to give me a chance to prove myself?”

“Well, let’s see: You broke the timestream, nearly losing your family, you scammed Glomgold out of his entire company, NOT that he didn’t deserve it, and, oh, there’s the little thing of taking over Scrooge’s company and almost running it into the ground in a day.” Lena scoffed and counted on her fingers.

Louie, half jokingly and half seriously defended himself. “Ok, ok, so mistakes were made…”

“Title of your autobiography.”, Lena quipped.

“I was thinking something more like “Louie Duck: Lit and Fit with Moolah in the Mint”, but sure, “Mistakes Were Made” works too.”

And again, silence fell.

For a moment, Lena thought she had avoided it for good, but then Louis spoke again, this time with a little more emotion.

“…I really could help you. If you’d let me.”

Lena sighed, knowing that the youngest duck triplet’s intentions were good, but misguided. “Look, Louie, it’s really cool of you to try, but…”

She left that sentence hanging, but Louie didn’t need the rest of it to interpret its meaning.

That didn’t stop him from insisting. “I’m telling you, I can at least try.”

Lena, tired of waiting, turned to him, anger in her eyes. Louie could also detect damp spots in said eyes, but he decided that he’d rather not die like that. “Louie, I’m serious: Stop trying.”

Louie knew that messing with Lena was a bad idea: She could get pretty mad, and he knew that he was no match physically for her.

But it didn’t stop him from staring right back, eyes narrowed with determination.

“Why? I’m tired of taking the easy route.”

Lena laughed. “Since when?”

“Since last week!”, Louie shouted back, slight emotion crawling into his voice.

“You can’t. Change. In a week!”, Lena emphasized, talking more to herself than to Louie.

“How are you so sure? How are you so sure that you can’t?”, Louie turned the tables.

Lena groaned, frustrated with his stubbornness. “Louie, you can’t help me!”

“Why?”, he shouted back, not expecting the following event.

Lena, finally out of patience, shoved him to the ground, angry tears flying off her eyes, a red face and a shaking body above him now.

“I. CAN’T. BE. HELPED!”

Realizing what she did, she turned her back to him, clenching her fists and looking down at the ground with shame.

She wished it could swallow her whole, leaving no trace.

But to her great misfortune…

She was still alive.

Louie slowly got up, dusting himself off, not averting his gaze from her hunched back and slumped shoulders.

“…No. You can’t be helped.”

Lena knew it was true, but it didn’t stop the shiver that emcommpassed her entire body.

But Louie wasn’t finished.

“You can’t be helped if you never let yourself be helped.”

“Sometimes, I really just want to deck that kid.”, Lena thought, and she turned around, pissed.

“Louie, for god’s sake, shut up…”

“No. Not until you hear me out.”

The two were in an unofficial stand still, a sort of unspoken staring contest, both refusing to break.

Lena desperately wanted to kick him out…

But at the same time, she knew that he wouldn’t leave without having his say.

Sighing, she turned her back again, and, muttering, she murmured “Fine. What do you want to say?”

Louie cleared his throat, knowing that he was now in the homestretch. He had to nail this or he’d lose his chance to help her.

And hard as it was for even him to believe, he wanted to help her.

Twiddling his thumbs, his usual confidence absent,, he started to make his point.

“As I’m sure you know, I can be kind of… Selfish and manipulative.”

Lena shook her head, failing to believe this. “Are we seriously talking about you?”

Louie quickly intervened. “Wait, wait, hear me out!”

Lena sighed and motioned for him to go on.

Louie kicked some grass and continued. “What I was trying to say is, as you know, I can be a real jerk.”

“Real asshole.”, Lena added.

“Yeah, that too.”

“And a dick.”, Lena added, now with a dry smile.

“Ok, that’s a bit much.”, Louie protested.

“And a prick, moron and cock.”

Louie dryly looked back at her. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, very.”, Lena admitted, enjoying the moment of relief.

Louie sighed. “Oh boy. Anyway, what I was trying to say, is that yes, I am all those things. And for a long time, I didn’t really think of the consequences of my actions.”

He started to get a little more serious, the memories of his past mistakes still a touchy matter.

Lena knew this, and she started to feel a little bad for barbing him so much. He too had regrets.

“I regret that. I regret tricking my family, I regret the timephoon, and I definitely regret taking over the company.”

Emotion broke into his voice, and Lena swore that she could hear a tear or two, but she refused to turn, still rejecting help.

That, and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

“I… I fucked up real bad.”

Lena snickered. “Gee, what a dirty mouth. You kiss your mother with that mouth, Lellwyn?”

“Oh, you bet! That dirty mouth didn’t even have that privilege until about 3 weeks ago! I’ll kiss her with my disgusting mouth as much as I want!”, Louie retorted jokingly, but Lena could tell that Louie really had missed his mom.

She wondered what that felt like.

Louie resumed his talk. “Anyhow… I… I didn’t realize I was wrong. I was sure that there was only one way in life for me: To scam everyone in my way, make it rich quick and live the easy life. But I see now that…”

He sighed. It was never easy to say this, but he had to for Lena’s sake.

“I see now that I was wrong.”

Lena sighed too. “Louie… You don’t have to be hard on yourself.”

Louie disagreed. “No. You’re wrong. I should be. I made big mistakes. And I need to fix them. And it will take time.”

Louie then smiled hopefully, a little at himself and a little at her. “But… Here’s the thing.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the wind in his hair. “The reason I’ve been able to live with myself… The reason I’m not just lying in my room hating myself for being suck a dick… Is because I took the first step towards redemption. Something you haven’t done.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. “…What are you talking about? What did I not do?”

Louie smiled softly, sympathy present in his eyes. “You didn’t forgive yourself.”

Lena gulped. In a way, she knew he was right, but at the same time…

“Louie… I can’t.”

“Why not?”, he asked, pressing her.

“I… I just can’t!”, Lena shot back, turning again, clutching herself, feeling cold.

“I… I’ve done too much. I’ve… I’ve fallen too far down.”

“No. You. Haven’t.”

Lena growled. “Louie, you don’t know what I’ve gone through.”

“Of course not. But answer me this: Did you choose to steal the number one dime?”

Lena turned to him, hands on her hips. “Uh, duh! Of course I did!”

“No, Magica did. You only did it because she told you to.”

“That doesn’t change what I did!”, Lena protested, attacking herself.

“Yes it does! You were being led astray by an abusive family figure! It’s a perfect excuse, ‘cause it’s not an excuse! It’s fucking abuse!”

Lena shook her head, not wanting to fool herself into believing. “Louie, even if that’s true…”

“Did you choose to make the money shark? Or the shadow war? Did you choose to let your body be taken over?”, Louie asked, disgust laced in his voice.

“Well…”, Lena had to admit, he was making a good point.

But she still felt so guilty.

“Well, I guess I…”

“No, no guessing. Yes or no.”

“But…”

“Yes or no.”

“Wait, I…”

“Yes. Or. No.”

“Listen, ok, it’s not that simple…”

Lena was spiraling, and Louie refused to budge.

��Yes or no, Lena! It IS simple!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Answer me!”

Lena shook and her head throbbed and her heart pounded and…

“Did you choose to be made?”

That was it. That was the million dollar question.

But the prize was most definitely not cash.

“NO, OK? I DIDN’T CHOOSE IT! I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO LIVE!”

Lena collapsed to her knees, weeping, not caring anymore who saw.

“I…”, she started weakly, her breath cold, her body aching.

“I didn’t choose to live. I didn’t ask for all of this.”

Louie stepped up to her, a look of pure sympathy painted on him. “…Exactly.”

Louie knelt down and embraced her, which surprised her. They were not huggers.

“Don’t dismember me.”, Louie asked, and Lena couldn’t help but smile at that.

“No promises…”, she said, through the tears.

Louie separated from the hug and gazed into her eyes.

“Lena… I get why you feel guilty. You almost hurt all the people you love, you helped an evil witch, and you nearly became her.”

He smiled encouragingly. “But you’re not. You were forced to do all this. You were being manipulated. Hurt. Controlled.”

Lena started listening, almost willing to accept it all.

“None of that was your fault. As you said, you didn’t ask for any of this: Magica did.”

Lena shook her head. “So what? That doesn’t absolve me for life.”

“Of course not. But…”

Louie nodded slowly. “You have something you didn’t have before. Something Magica never gave you.”

Lena stuttered out a question. “…W-What?”

“…A choice.”

The wind blew and the birds chirped and Lena took a deep breath.

“A choice?”, she asked.

Louie nodded, sitting down next to her. “I could choose to keep scamming. But I want to work hard from now on. I want to earn my riches. I want to do it the right way.”

He shrugged. “And if I don’t choose to do that, if I choose to revert to type, well… I’m choosing to be what I hate. I’m choosing to be the version I’m ashamed of.”

Lena nodded.

“I’m not saying you’re bad. ‘Cause you’re not. But if you decide that you are bad, well… You’ll never have a chance to be good.”

Louie smiled. “We’re all willing to forgive you, Lena. You’re family. But… Are you willing to forgive yourself?”

Lena hated to admit it… But he was right.

“Wow. You actually said something that didn’t piss me off.”

Louie laughed. “Yeah, I know, shocking.”

Lena suddenly hugged him.

“Woah.”, he exclaimed, surprised by this.

Lena now had happy tears. “Thanks for talking to me.”

She wiped the tears away as she separated herself from him. “…I know that… That I didn’t choose to do these things.”

She looked down in shame. “But I can’t help and feel like I did.”

Louie nodded. “The only way out is to forgive yourself. You’re not even giving yourself a chance to get better.”

Lena fearfully asked the question that terrified her: “…What if I still go bad?”

Louie sighed. “You won’t. You’re better than you think you are. You helped us all eve under Magica’s control. You’re a great person. Now it’s time to let yourself be that person.”

Lena looked back at the clouds.

Forgiving herself couldn’t be easy..

She still felt all the things she had done… No. All the things she had been forced to do.

Well… If that’s the case…

Then she hasn’t had a chance to actually BE bad.

Which mean, in a sense…

“I have a blank slate.”, she uttered quietly.

And if that was true…

Then…

Then there WAS hope.

If she had a blank slate, then she had just as much of a chance of ending up good as she did ending up bad.

For the first time in her life…

Lena had a choice.

Lena could try again.

One more chance.

Tears flowed down as Lena realized she could be who she wants to be.

She COULD.

And, despite spending so many years in the company of magic, that was the most magical thing she had ever seen.

“There really is still hope…”

Lena slowly stood up, following the last alien ship as it began to leave.

Closing her eyes, she projected all the mistakes she had made.

All the terrible things that she was forced to do.

Magica wasn’t her…

She was an illness.

To fight an illness, one must accept that it isn’t who they are.

But also…

To choose to fight it.

Lena could see that she could be good.

But she could never be good, be happy…

If she didn’t forgive herself.

A hand softly landed over her heart.

“…I didn’t choose to be like that. And I choose not to be.”

She closed her eyes tight. “From now on… I choose to be me. The real me.”

She smiled.

“I give myself… A chance.”

And that’s what she did, as her guilt flew away to the moon, far far away.

And as one last tear flowed down, Lena felt it.

Hope.

It would take time… Time to heal. To discover herself. To shut the voice down.

But…

One day…

She’d be good.

And she’d be happy.

And she’d be… Herself.

And that was truly magical.

#ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #Lena #lena ducktales #ducktales louie #ducktales season 2 #violet sabrewing #lena saberwing #saberwing sisters #moonvasion #lenasmagic

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amazingmitchell · 5 years

Text

you long to say a thousand words but seasons change

author: me :’)

beta: @rainbow-phan

artist: @snekydingdong (art will be linked here when it’s finished!)

word count: 4417

available on: ao3

rating: none (g)

warnings: major character death (no description of the death itself)

summary: dan wipes away at the layer of snow on the ice and, noticing his reflection, reaches up to touch his face. he doesn’t know what to think about himself. his cheeks are rosy and he can faintly see his breaths crystalizing in the air. he’s wearing a fur cloak with the hood up, but doesn’t know who made it or how he came by it. then again, he doesn’t know anything about this place, just that he’s meant to be here.

author’s note: this was written for the phandom big bang 2019! it was an amazing experience and i had the best teammates in the whole world.

in the beginning, there was chaos. fires ravaged the face of the earth, and ashes rained from the sky. from the discord, mother nature was created out of necessity. she tamed the wind and gave the world stability, her sweat and blood falling as fresh water, but she could not hold the ground together on her own. and so summer was born.

the first of mother nature’s children, aine loved the long hours of the day and kept the sun in the palm of her hand. she fostered fire while mother nature turned the earth. they tore away the earth to create the moon, then when they decided the ground was too flat and boring, mountains rose under their command. then one day, aine discovered what would become the first life in a pool of water. when she tried to touch it, she nearly destroyed it. afraid to lose the precious specks of essence, mother nature reached deep inside herself to create spring.

phil was mother nature’s finest creation. she cried tears of joy when she first saw him, and her tears wet the earth and allowed the first trace of life to become something more. phil nurtured it until it became a living organism, and slowly it grew in complexity. but aine was jealous of the attention mother nature was giving phil, and they argued night and day. eventually, mother nature decided her children could not live together. so she took aine with her to the depths of the earth, to one day trade places with phil on the surface. once it was phil’s turn to reunite with mother nature, aine returned to her place in the sun.

except aine was still frustrated with both phil and mother nature. she made the air so unbearably hot almost all the water in the world evaporated, which killed many of the organisms phil fought so hard to protect. to control the dying, mother nature reached inside herself once more to create autumn. eve began to undo the harshness of summer, making the air cooler and nights longer. she could not save the creatures, though, from the damage aine had caused. so eve taught them to become dormant until phil could tend to them again.

after years of argument and disarray, there was finally harmony between the children of mother nature. she called them her seasons, and for the rest of time they would watch over the earth as life developed. the water creatures became plants and smaller animals, which turned into trees and large beasts. mother nature helped her children build a cottage by the edge of a lake once the animals phil coaxed into existence were a nuisance, especially the insects.

one year, just as summer was about to give way to autumn and the days lost their warmth, aine created a hearth. when eve returned, the fire was dreadfully warm, so she made the air colder. but the air became too cold too quickly, and the storm clouds that were looming overhead dropped snow instead of rain. not knowing what to do, eve called for mother nature. and with that, winter was born.

—

when dan opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is the snow-covered branches of the forest. he’s sitting near the roots of a tree, and he runs his gloved hands through the snow. he doesn’t know where he is, or how he got here. come to think of it, he doesn’t know where he was before this, if anywhere. the only clue he has is the two words repeating over and over in his head: a name and a title. dan. winter.

slowly, dan stands up, using the tree for support. something inside him pulls him forward, and he’s walking down the hill. birds, or at least that’s what he instinctively calls them, fly overhead in the same direction as him. other than the pair of birds, the forest is lifeless and silent.

he stumbles into a large clearing, beyond which is a frozen lake and a small cabin. dan’s sure he’s never seen this place before, but it feels so familiar that he might as well have. stepping inside, it’s much drier than outside, and the fireplace in the center of the room warms the air. there’s nothing more than a table, bookshelf, and bed in the cabin. the heat begins to bother dan, so he opens the door again and sets out to explore the forest.

dan begins by circling the lake, though it’s cold and just as silent as the forest. he wonders if there might be life underneath the ice, surfacing when the ice disappears. if the ice disappears. dan wipes away at the layer of snow on the ice and, noticing his reflection, reaches up to touch his face. he doesn’t know what to think about himself. his cheeks are rosy and he can faintly see his breaths crystalizing in the air. he’s wearing a fur cloak with the hood up, but doesn’t know who made it or how he came by it. then again, he doesn’t know anything about this place, just that he’s meant to be here.

he pulls away from the hypnotic trance the ice drew him into. finding nothing else of immediate interest, dan wanders back into the trees. it seems repetitive at first, the same tree copied over thousands of times to create the forest. but as dan spends more time tracing the land, he starts to see small differences from one tree to the next. one might have an owl hole or the antler markings of a stag, and another might be otherwise unremarkable.

soon, the light fades and dan makes his way back to the cabin, where the fire flickers through the windows. the warmth is comforting, he realizes, after being outside for so long. dan finds himself drawn to the bed, and while he recognizes it’s for sleeping, he doesn’t feel tired. he slips his cloak and boots off and lays in the bed, closing his eyes and entering a dreamless sleep.

—

as the days pass, dan develops somewhat of a routine: wake up, start the fire, then spend the rest of the day in the mountains and valleys, visiting the same places each time. even though dan never seems to catch it in action, the trees and rocks and snow change. not all of them, but it’s enough for dan to notice.

one such day, long after dan has lost count of how long he’s been here, he finds new growth, new needles on many of the trees. the next day, a bear and her cubs emerge from somewhere deep in the mountains and sniff around the cabin, drawn to its warmth. it gives dan something new to check up on every day and he’s glad for it.

that is, until the ice on the lake begins to crack. it first happens in the middle of the night, like a clap of thunder, and dan jolts awake. over the course of the next few days, the crack becomes part of a vein, the trunk of a tree with smaller cracks branching out across the ice. dan can hear the splitting throughout the valley, and he wishes he knew what was causing the sudden change, because something inside fills him with unease.

dan wakes up one morning to the sound of sparrows chirping outside, the first birds other than ravens. he sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning when the door opens, letting cold air inside. at first, he expects it to be the mother bear and her cubs, looking for food. but the hooded, sable-haired person who walks in is no bear.

dan scrambles out from under the covers and backs into the corner of the room. the person clearly senses his fear and confusion, and they lower their hood.

“you must be winter,” they say, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “i’m spring, but you can call me phil.”

dan doesn’t take their, his, now that he can see their face, hand, instead focusing on the other’s appearance. his cloak is much like dan’s except a lighter material and darker in color. more importantly, his expression is soft, and dan can’t find anything that says phil’s here to hurt him.

“why are you here?” dan asks bluntly, though it comes out harsher than he intends.

“why am i-?” phil blinks, as if dan just asked an obvious question. “what’s your name?”

dan shakes his head, “tell me what’s going on first.”

“well,” phil starts. “you may want to sit down for this.”

and so phil explains their origin story. he has to retell it for everything to make sense to dan, and even then, he still doesn’t grasp the concept of evolution. but dan doesn’t really care about why birds are the way they are; he wants to know how he got here, and it’s the one thing phil can’t explain.

“i remember when i first met eve,” phil says. “fall, autumn, whatever you want to call her. aine had set fire to literally everything, and eve suddenly appeared to help the land heal. she just...started to exist.”

“it felt like i’d woken up from a long dream,” dan says softly, staring out the window and into the forest where he’d first found himself all those months ago. “i don’t remember ever having fallen asleep.”

“it felt that way for me, too. but that was before mother nature separated us, so when i… ‘woke up,’ as you put it, i had aine to talk to. i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been.”

dan shrugs, “i didn’t know any different, until you showed up.”

“are there even any animals out when it’s cold like this?” phil asks. “the deer visit me when it starts getting warmer.”

“only recently.”

phil smiles warmly. “want to show me? i can’t wait to see how the forest dealt with all this snow for so long.”

dan agrees, though somewhat hesitantly, but forces a smile as they stand up from the table. there’s still so much about phil he doesn’t know, and dan isn’t close to understanding who he is or what his purpose is. for now, he leads phil into the forest, pointing out evidence of stags and which trees have since fallen over. it’s clear phil’s walked this earth hundreds of times over, and dan feels he’s making a fool of himself for pretending to know the forest like phil does.

until they reach the top of a hill and stop to look out across the valley. “it’s beautiful,” phil remarks, his breath clouding in front of him. “it’s so quiet.” he lets silence fill the air between them. “you know, you never did tell me your name,” phil says after a while.

dan lets the silence linger on before answering. “dan.”

“and mother nature decided to call you winter. i think both of those names suit you.”

“well, that’s a relief,” dan says, again, more rudely than he’d intended, but phil seems to take it as a joke and laughs.

“you did well, dan,” phil says, looking back to the valley. “the forest is more beautiful than i left it.”

“i’m not sure what i did,” dan mutters.

“i’m not sure either, but at least you didn’t burn it all down like aine.”

—

dan doesn’t know what he expects phil to do, but after the day passes and another starts, dan finds himself wondering why phil’s still here, since seasons aren’t allowed to roam the earth together. phil explains it later as seasonal changing, where winter slowly turns into spring, until there isn’t any trace of winter left, and then spring seeps into summer, and so on. they disappear and reappear when the time comes, and that explanation is enough for dan.

except dan’s heart can’t help but hurt as the snow melts more each day; as the ice cracks further and animals he’s never seen before drink at the lake’s edge. phil’s eyes only grow with wonder as he shows dan secret fox dens and birds’ nests. each day, they walk through the forest as dan usually does, then they do it all over again with phil’s path. it’s exhausting, to say the least. but dan learns so much about phil and the forest that it’s worth it. any doubts he had about phil have been long forgotten.

eventually, the lake stops freezing over at night and the remaining ice melts away. the trees are almost completely green now, and storms drop sleet instead of snow. one day, as dan puts out the fire, he feels extremely tired all of a sudden. he hasn’t done anything yet today, and once phil comes back from checking on something outside, they’re supposed to go on their daily walk. dan tries blinking it away, but when he tries to stand up, he doesn’t have the energy. within seconds, everything cascades into darkness.

—

the next thing dan knows is that he’s waking up from what feels like a deep sleep. he’s sitting exactly where he last was, or at least where he remembers he was. the hearth is burning again, and when dan looks out the window, it’s snowing. even with the fire going, it’s much colder in the cabin than he left it. how long was he asleep?

he stands up, steadying himself on the mantle. the room looks exactly the same as before, except now there’s a notebook on the bedside table. dan walks over and picks it up, turning to the most recent page. “dan,” it reads.

“i went out for a while and when i came back, i couldn’t find you. you probably have a lot of questions, and i would have answered them while you were still here. you sorta caught me off guard by leaving so soon. you know seasons change here on earth, and when our season’s up, we disappear so the next can come. we usually don’t know when it’s our turn to leave until we’re gone.

“it feels like falling asleep, doesn’t it? then suddenly you’re back, doing exactly what you were before you left. i feel guilty for not being by your side when it happened to help you through it. i can only imagine how confused and worried you must have been. there’s a lot more to talk about, but i don’t want to overwhelm you after your first seasonal change. hopefully i’ll be back in a few months so we can see each other again. p.s. the baby bears are getting bigger and cuter! ♡ phil”

dan finds himself smiling as he reads phil’s note. it does answer some of his questions, but he feels left with a perpetual feeling of loneliness, of starting over again.

he waits until the storm passes to go outside. the lake is completely frozen over, and the air is silent as ever. at first, he tries to find the den where he first saw the bear family. then he realizes it’s been two full seasons since he last saw phil, so the bears are probably all grown up and have moved on already.

and so dan finds himself falling into his old routine. he walks around the forest, somewhat bored with the grayness of the trees. the realization that he misses spring occurs to him as he sees empty birds’ nests and rocks covered with dead lichen. more importantly, dan realizes he misses phil, especially when he turns to tell phil something but is greeted with empty space.

it only takes dan a few hours to decide he hates winter.

—

the days pass slower than dan can possibly imagine, and eventually he reaches the day when the ice on the lake starts to crack again. it takes a few more days for the trees to start showing their color again, but dan is sure it’s a sign phil will return.

when he does, dan comes back into the cabin after checking the ice again to see phil laying in bed, and he nearly screams. “you came back,” dan says breathlessly.

“did i?” phil smiles. “that’s a surprise.”

“you didn’t think you’d come back?” dan asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“just joking with you.”

—

“why didn’t i see eve?” dan asks some days later. they’re both sitting at the edge of a waterfall, one that pours into the lake some miles ahead. “if i get to see you at the start of spring, why doesn’t eve see me at the start of winter?”

“she’s decided she hates winter,” phil says back. “after she first made the earth too cold, she’s sworn off snow for eternity. mother nature agreed to let her disappear right before the first snow of the season.”

“how do you know that if there’s all of summer between you?”

“we talk to each other through the notebook. well, i guess it’s not really talking.” phil shrugs. “we leave notes when we’re alone and do as much talking as we can when there’s two of us.”

dan pauses for a moment before asking another question. “what’s aine like, then?”

“aine was the first of us, i suppose. she knows a lot more about things than i do. she’s hard to become close to, though, since she’s so warm all the time. i’m kind of glad i follow winter. i much prefer the cold.”

“but you get to watch the animals and feel the grass,” dan frowns. spring is everything winter isn’t. dan feels like their seasons are reflected in themselves; phil is bright and always cheerful, whereas dan is cold and has nothing to smile about when his season is silent and empty.

“there’s something special in every season, dan. it took me a while to appreciate myself.” the silence of winter fills the space between them, until suddenly, the ice below the waterfall cracks and sends water spraying everywhere. dan shrieks and backs away from the edge of the waterfall as phil laughs. “that never happens in spring.”

“lucky you,” dan grumbles.

—

as the weeks go by, dan spends every minute with phil because he knows soon enough, he’ll have to leave and when he comes back, phil won’t be here. so when dan feels tiredness creeping up on him one morning, he immediately reaches out for phil’s arm and whispers his name, “i think it’s happening.”

“it’s fine, dan, everything’s going to be fine,” phil says as dan falls into his arms and struggles to stand. “it’s normal, right? you’ll be back before you know it.”

even being so close to phil, literally in his arms, dan’s heart nearly races out of his chest until his vision fades and he disappears from the earth.

—

but sure enough, dan returns for another winter, waking at the edge of the lake where phil left him. the first thing he does is check the notebook on the nightstand, sighing with relief once he sees phil’s handwriting. “hi dan,” the note says.

“you looked really scared before you left. the first few times it happened to me, i was scared, too. it was sad to see you like that, since i couldn’t do anything to stop it. it’s not always easy to leave. but you’ll get used to it soon enough.

“today i had to bury a baby bird that fell out of its nest before it could fly. i tried to convince its mother that everything would be alright, but in hindsight i’m not very good at communicating with birds. i left it some berries in its nest, though. i had a few myself and they’re really good! they just became ripe enough a few days ago, and unfortunately i don’t think they’ll keep for a year so that you can try them. you’ll just have to take my word for it :P ♡ phil”

the note leaves dan feeling warm inside, though it also makes him miss phil more. for the rest of that winter, dan doesn’t stop thinking about spring.

—

when phil comes back, dan runs to him and hugs him tightly. the clouds are dark and it’s bound to start sleeting any moment, but dan doesn’t care. “you’re back,” he smiles.

“did you miss me that much?” phil grins back.

“i’m sorry,” dan says, almost sheepishly. he pulls away from phil, letting his beaming friend catch his breath. “i’ve just been so lonely without you. i’m sorry about that baby bird, by the way.”

“what?” phil asks. “oh, that’s right. it feels like ages ago when that happened. don’t you get any animals dying from the frost?”

dan shakes his head, “if i do, they’re buried in the snow.”

“speaking of the snow, let’s go inside, yeah? it’s freezing.”

“i thought you said you liked the cold,” dan teases, starting to walk back toward the cabin. phil just rolls his eyes, and dan laughs.

—

that night, dan and phil sit by the fire, the storm raging outside the cabin. the wind is so strong it threatens to blow the door in, but dan moves closer to phil and breathes in deeply, calming himself down.

“quite the storm you’ve got,” phil says softly.

“it’s nearly spring,” dan counters. “it’s your storm, too.”

“well, we should think about going to sleep,” phil yawns after a few minutes of watching the fire crackle and pop. “we’ll have to get up early tomorrow to see how much damage the storm did.” but dan’s already asleep, his head rested on phil’s shoulder, so phil carefully lifts him off the floor and tucks him under the covers of the bed.

when dan wakes up, he finds his legs tangled with phil’s. it’s the first night they properly sleep together, and they find themselves in the same situation every night afterward. after the first night, dan’s nervous; are they breaking some sort of unspoken rule? but phil never mentions it, and so they go to bed together each night, as well as spend every waking minute with each other. at first, dan thinks it’s because phil wants to be by his side when it’s time to go, but as time passes, he isn’t so sure anymore.

—

“i’m starting to understand what you mean when you say the seasons are lonely,” phil writes. “i always used to find comfort in watching the animals or walking around the woods, but now all i can think about is you. the animals are still adorable, of course, and the woods are still breathtaking. i saw a baby deer drinking from the lake today. imagine if that deer had been born a bit earlier, maybe we could have seen that together.”

there’s a space after the note, followed by another entry.

“it’s been raining nonstop for the last few days. that’s nice for the plants, i suppose, but i haven’t seen any animals since the rain started. it’s a cold rain, too. sometimes it turns into sleet or hail at night. it’s probably cold enough to bring you back, but i don’t think it works like that. i wish you were here to warm me and the animals up. ♡ phil”

every note of phil’s puts a smile on dan’s face. he reads them like they’re in the forest together and phil’s by his side, telling him about all the things he’s seen.

over time, dan’s winters change. some seem to get shorter and shorter, which dan isn’t upset about because it means he gets to see phil. some years, winter lasts a few weeks before phil shows up again. and some years they’re longer, other years the winters never pass, but dan patiently waits to see phil again.

he writes in the notebook, they both do. most of the time, there’s nothing interesting enough about winter for dan to write about, so he’ll draw the view from the window, or he’ll draw the same scene but how he imagines it to be in the spring. he reads an entry from phil each day, learning about what happened on that particular day of spring, but sometimes phil’s days are boring and he’ll end up drawing, too. and, of course, they’re inseparable when winter melds into spring and they’re together again. as much as dan hates winter, phil makes the time he has to spend alone worth it.

—

as the winters get even shorter, dan finds himself seeing phil more and more often, which seems like the opportunity of a lifetime. until one year, when dan sets foot on the earth again, phil is already there.

“it’s too short,” dan says, looking over at the lake, which didn’t freeze over at all this year. “something’s not right. what happens if winter doesn’t come at all next year?”

“aine’s been coming earlier and earlier, too,” phil admits. “she tells me she doesn’t have as much control as she used to. she thinks it’s humans.”

“the ones that pray for good harvests and build those funny houses?”

phil shakes his head, “ they’re getting rid of winter, dan. they’re getting rid of you. and soon there won’t be anything left but the dry heat of summer. and i’m nervous, because all the life will die and we will, too.”

“i don’t want to think about leaving you,” dan says, taking phil’s hands in his and resting their foreheads together.

“then don’t,” phil says, and he kisses dan. it’s soft and slow, and it surprises dan at first, but his heart hurts so much at the idea of never seeing phil again that he can’t pull away.

that was dan’s last winter.

—

“where do we go when we’re not here?” dan asked, picking up a river rock and skipping it across the lake.

“what do you mean?”

“when we come back, it feels like waking up from a dream.” another rock splashed into the water. “when we all fall asleep, where do we go?”

phil took a rock of his own and threw it into the distance. “i don’t know. even summer doesn’t know, and she was the first.”

“tell me about summer again.”

“again?” phil laughed. “she’s radiant. she makes the water warm but can evaporate it all in an instant. she’s constantly changing, and that’s what i love about you. you seem cold, but you’re kind to the earth. you’re a reminder of the life that remains and the life to come.”

“but you’re the one who brings life with you,” dan said back.

“i suppose i do. but you never appreciate what you have until it’s gone.”

#pbb2019 #phandom big bang #dnp #phanfiction #phan #writing #fanfiction #fluff #death tw #au

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parkrstark · 5 years

Text

who needs pictures?

based on this song (X)

It took him a while after everything happened to even go near Peter’s side of the lab. It had been months, maybe even a year already since he’d be gone. It felt like a million lifetimes. Tony lost track of time when all of the days merged into one long nightmare.

He only started looking through all of the stuff he had shoved in the desk drawers because May was looking for one of Peter’s old notebooks. She couldn’t find it in his bedroom and of course, the only other place that managed to collect all of the kid’s things was in the tower. Either in the spare room that had slowly turned into Peter’s or his section in the lab.

He didn’t mean to make it an all day affair, but every little thing he found had him distracted for a while.

He clicked on the old DS he had shoved in the top drawer and it still had his Animal Crossing game inside. Tony winced as he walked the little guy character (Peter named him Han Solo. Of course, he did) around the town, through the weeds that had taken over every spot on the ground. Peter used to always make sure to check his town routinely so there was never one weed in sight.

There was a plastic spoon in the bottom drawer that once lit up when you clicked the button. It was red with a faded cartoon picture of both Iron Man and Spider-Man on it. Peter had gotten it out of a box of cereal when the public first started noticing Spider-Man and Iron Man’s unlikely partnership. He had it hidden in here so no one ever used it and “tainted its awesomeness”.

Peter kept his fidget toy, one of many, on his desk. It had been a present from Tony when he noticed how the kid was always fidgeting. Especially when he was sitting in the lab doing nothing else but homework or something that didn’t involve much moving. He threw it to the kid one day after school nonchalantly. He’d been hesitant to use it until Tony told him about the collection of stress balls he had; there wasn’t ever a time when he didn’t have one in his pocket. Tony had spoiled the kid with dozens of fidget toys; some he loved, some he liked, and some he wasn’t a big fan of. When Tony was in a store, usually a gas station, they’d sell them by the cash register and Tony bought one he thought Peter would like. He even ordered special Star Wars ones.

When he reached the camera however, he froze. Of course, it had its own special drawer. Peter took care of that thing like it was his literal baby. He used to talk to it sometimes. He named it...Tony thought hard to Peter got it for his birthday from May (she had saved up months to get it for him and the look on his face when he opened it was well worth, even Tony knew). He had been there, but Peter hadn’t named it until a few days. He claimed he needed to pick a name that felt right. Four days after his birthday, he walked into the lab with the strap around his neck and holding the camera tucked safely in his hands against his chest.

“Meet Paisley!”

“Finally named it, kid?”

“Named her, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiled at the memory, lifting the camera up and brushed away the layer of dust that covered the screen. He tried the power button, but nothing happened. Dead. He sighed, ready to put it back in the drawer when something stopped him. He turned it carefully in his hands and popped open the SD card insert.

He put the camera in the drawer and then went over to his main desk where he had a computer capable of showing the contents of the SD card. He stuck it in and waited for the monitor to load the pictures.

The first on the screen hit hard.

Peter was staring right at the camera smiling so widely. And with the high quality the camera took pictures in and his compute showed pictures on, it was almost like Peter was right in front of him again. He reached a hand out and his fingers hit the screen.

Peter had a weird tradition of “baptizing” each of his SD cards. He always took the same first picture. Whoever he was with when he replaced it, he threw an arm around their shoulder and took a selfie. Tony was usually the one caught, though he had a few with May, Ned, Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper.

Tony was in this one. He was staring down at one of his tablets, not giving the camera a glance. But Peter was there, next to him on the couch, pulling him in close and smiling. Tony wished he had looked up...just to see that smile on the kid’s face. But he didn’t. Because that had be a normal thing for Peter to do. Tony never thought there’d be a day where he wasn’t there to fill up empty SD card and start with an impromptu photo session.

He’d never get a chance to do that again. He took that moment for granted just as often as Peter took the picture.

He swiped to the next photo and smiled. They were a lot miscellaneous shots of people and places Peter loved.

There was May raising a pair of chopsticks to her mouth as she sat across from him in what looked like a restaurant. Which Tony bet it was. Whenever she tried to cook, that’s usually where they ended up.

Ned sitting in a pile of hundreds of Legos they had dumped all over Peter’s bedroom floor.

A view of the city streets from a very high spot somewhere Peter perched to get the perfect shot.

Happy petting a orange cat, Murphy was his name if Tony remembered correctly, that sat on a counter of Peter’s favorite deli.

May and Pepper laughing as they sat on a couch, each with a champagne glass in their hands.

Endless photos of dogs in the park.

Tony sitting on Rhodey as they played Mario Kart, so he could win.

Ned making a funny face in the camera as he sat in a library with a book open in front of him.

Happy yelling out his window as they drove, Peter was sitting in the passenger seat.

A duck walking down a city street.

Tony working on something in his lab.

Peter liked taking candid shots of Tony in the workshop. Sometimes Tony was glancing at the camera from the corner of his eyes, but most times he had no idea the picture was being taken.

God, Tony. Why didn't you ever take a fucking second just to look? Look up at what you had. The kid was always there. And now, he’d never be there again.

He swiped through the dozens of photos Peter took of Tony in the lab, mixed with a few of the bots hanging around.

(Tony’s favorite was the one he took himself. Peter, U, and Dum-E were sleeping on the floor in a sea of blankets Peter had set up for the four of them to watch a movie. He had made sure to drape a blanket over each of them.)

He smiled when he realized what the majority of this SD card was full of: Peter and Tony’s roadtrip to Florida over the summer. They had a big trip planned to Disney World for the kid’s 17th birthday. He’d always wanted to go to Disney World and one of the parks was practically throwing up Star Wars. There was a ride, character meet and greets, parades, firework, shows, and more just for this movie.

So, it was a no brainer where Peter was going to celebrate his day.

Except there was one problem: Peter was deathly afraid of planes. Ever since the night he crashed the Stark plane on Coney Island. So, flying to Florida was not an option. At least not for Peter.

Tony remembered when they surprised him with the tickets and told him about the private jet that would get them there in no more than 2 hours. He hands started to shake. Tony didn’t hesitate before saying Peter didn’t have to take the plane. (“I’m thinking about driving down, if you want to join. I could use the company”)

Sure, one day, Tony would help Peter get over his fear of flying, but he didn’t need to do that when he was going to celebrate his birthday. He didn’t want the kid to dread the trip. So, Tony and Peter left two days before everyone else did and they started their roadtrip.

It was the best trip Tony had ever taken. He enjoyed the car ride to and back more than the actual vacation, probably.

The collection of vacation photos started with Tony packing the car with their suitcases. Tony was looking over his shoulder as a bag on the top was about to fall over on his head. (“A little help, Parker?”).

Tony steering the wheel with one hand and shoving a fast food burger in his mouth with the other. (“Who the fuck puts mustard on a burger? Are their taste buds that dead?”)

A random horse Peter had made Tony stop driving for suddenly by screaming, “Stop!” (“Christ, Parker, you’re lucky no one was behind me. Don’t do that again.” “But he’s so pretty, Mr. Stark.”)

Peter’s dirty converse kicked up on the dash and a blur of Tony’s hand, swatting his feet off. (“Unless you want to clean the dashboard with your toothbrush, get your filthy feet off.”)

A sunset Peter made him spend 10 minutes driving to get the perfect shot. (“Peter, the sun is going to be gone by the time you find a spot you like.”)

One that Tony took of Peter fast asleep in the passenger seat, drooling slightly with his head at angle that couldn’t have been good for his neck. (“How do you even sleep like that?”)

Then the next one was Peter sleeping again, this time after Tony leaned over and fixed him so he was in a comfortable position. He leaned the seat back, laid his head in a normal position, and covered him in a blanket. (“See? I take care of you.”)

He continued to skim through the pictures and found the selection of pictured from the actual trip itself. Peter had gone crazy with photos. LIke he snapped a picture of every little thing. He was like those tourists they made fun of in Times Square.

Tony and May had taken a lot of them too when Peter wanted to be in the pictures. The kid almost cried when he saw all the Star Wars shit. There was a show that had an entire dedication to Han Solo, and Tony actually saw him wipe at his eyes quickly. Tony had rolled his eyes, ruffling the kid’s hair.

He continued through the hundred of pictures for what had to have been hours before he reached the last one. Tony packing a full car that overflowing with bags and bags of Disney souvenirs.

Tony didn’t realize he had been crying until there were no more photos to distract him. He sniffled and wiped his wet cheeks.

That was only one SD card...the kid had dozens in his drawer that Tony could look through.

He always took a picture of everything. His face was always behind the lens, taking a photo of something.

Tony told him to put the camera down and live in the moment, but Peter said he didn’t want to forget a single moment.

Tony didn’t understand how he could when it was all so clear in Tony’s mind. He could still close his eyes and remember what had happened in each photo before and after it was taken.

He didn’t need these photos to remember Peter.

Peter was the most vivid memory in his mind every time he closed his eyes.

Sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse.

#iron dad #tony stark #peter parker #infinity war #shannon writes

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