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adaptacy · 5 months

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A Found Flame {Pt.8}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

A/N: got to the astral boat scene... cried a lil. got to the mystra meeting... punched my monitor a lil. /j anyways i made a new divider thing cause the other one was a placeholder and uhmm dont judge it pls i am nawwwt an artist i just slapped together some bits n pieces

Word count: 1.2k

He couldn’t have been more than sixty miles from Daggerford when he first felt it. Hardly subtle was the sensation that bordered on the edge of painful – a stinging pain, like a papercut or a pinch – as the orb was disturbed. He pulled his brown mare to a halt, who offered only an irritated whinny, and his palm pressed to his chest. Even when it was buried beneath three layers of fabric, he could feel the buried beat, thumping against his ribs in some attempt to escape. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold or fear that rendered his throat so irrationally dry, and his eyes flicked to the saddlebag to his left, reminding himself that his dagger rested mere inches away, should he need to use it.

Not that he felt it was truly an option he could make – not when they remained in Waterdeep, waiting for him. Not when his mother sent letter after letter requesting his presence, worrying about him spending all of his time in that damned tower. Not when he still had so much to do, to teach, hells – to learn.

But the weave didn’t care. Mortal worries, mortal fears, mortal disobedience. What the weave wanted from him, it would take, and no bargaining would score him any better.

It beats again, but the reasoning is beyond him. He stumbles, awkwardly shifting off of his horse and staggering off of the road, the saddlebag now in his hand. The horse whinnies once more behind him, giving a stomp of disapproval, but it doesn’t yet flee.

Another beat, and this one echoes in the very earth around him, the leaves of the woods – the Misty Forest, he concludes – trembling at the power that he holds? The ground shudders, and again, he stumbles, falling to his knees, dirtying the plush plum of his coat. One hand presses against the trunk of a tree, desperate for stability, and the other rustles through his bag, hissing as his fingers grace the silver blade of his dagger, staining it with fresh blood. Then they find the hilt, and the weapon is retracted. He meets its eyes – his own eyes – and he feels the judgment. The shame.

What a mess he’s become. A terrible waste of talent. A miserable slum of what was once a wonderful wizard. How far he’s sunken, wallowing as a lowlife where he once had a seat at the very table of the Lord’s Helm. A short-lived seat, it was, but the stark difference of status is nauseating.

He hasn’t said all that needs to be said. He hasn’t seen his mothers face in, what, years? Certainly not since this gods-forsaken blight has invaded his body. He hasn’t told her he loves her, not face-to-face, in perhaps even longer. He used to share tea with her every other week. He used to brag to her about his newest studies, read his journals to her as she praised her son as though he’d done something truly life-changing. He’d promised her – promised her that he would do something with them. That, one way or another, he’d change the world, for her, for his prodigious talent, for Mystra–

Gods, Mystra.

They’d never understand. Perhaps nobody could – the mere idea of godhood isn’t something the average mortal fumbles with the concept of. To touch godhood, real godhood, to feel godhood’s embrace, to taste godhood, to love and argue and plead with godhood?

No, nobody could understand.

There was, once, a reason he wrecked his body to such unfathomable levels. A beautiful, divine, wonderfully perfect reason. A reason he’d hunted down the extent of her reaches, dared to tussle with some influence even larger than his goddess, a reason he threatened the very origin of the weave itself.

There was a reason he’d gotten so far, and fallen even further. He liked to believe there was a reason he was chosen. A reason beyond his charm. A reason beyond her playfulness. How arrogant everyone else must have been – reminding him again, and again, and again, that he was not special. Not to her, not to them, hardly even to himself. How sweetly she spoke to him. How highly she praised him. How generous she’d been, to so fondly accept his kisses, his touch, his love, only to sever all ties the instant he strayed too far.

His grip tightens on the dagger, and the earth trembles again – he wants to find a purpose. Beyond being the plaything everyone says he is. Beyond being just a muse in her long history of flings, of mortal manipulation, of abandoned chosen after abandoned chosen. His eyes close, and he tries to find a sense of belonging in his memories with her. Whether it be in her lectures, her fleeting warmth, her luring coos or her mystical prowess.

He tries to find a sense of belonging seated at her side. So many years of his life, wasted to entertain her for a mere fraction of her trite immortality. In decades, he’ll be nothing more than a few lines in even fewer books, a word of warning to young wizards everywhere. He’s read them before, the names thus far belonging to men all but unfamiliar to him. Karsus, Dornar Silverhand, Khelben. Even Elminster shared such similar encounters, only ever brought up in quickly-fading exhales, shame stringing the sentences along, unwilling and cold.

Youth lent him such forgiveness. Disregarding the tales were easy – this Mystra would be different. This Mystra would love him the way he loved her.

But he’s no longer the doe-eyed seventeen year old he was when he granted her the benefit of the doubt. Instead, he’s nearly forty, and tired, and weary, and finding himself at the receiving end of a ridged, steel-forged blade, the orb pulsing, twisting, battling to overrule the beating of his heart.

And the woods shake again, and he feels the apical tip press into his skin, earning a hiss of discomfort from his bared teeth.

He pressures the blade further, but the earth shakes again, and he’s thrown off his balance, the blade lodging instead in his shoulder, and he groans in overwhelming discomfort, his irritation for the misplacement only overshadowed by the pain searing through his nerves.

The orb doesn’t erupt, but the sky certainly does, splitting to cast a large darkness over the forest – over the entire world, for all that he knows. He rolls onto his back, fighting to remove the blade from his shoulder, but his grasps are awkward and far too hesitant. A large, snaking mass of flesh-like anatomy swipes over the forest, knocking trees around him, and his chase for suicide is halted by an intense horror, completely unaware of what in the hells is happening above him. He coughs, choking on his pain, and another curse of biology crashes into the forest.

He’s able to follow the form to its root, finding a terrifically unfamiliar hard-encased body of flight soaring the sky above him. At last, he rips the dagger from his shoulder, crying out at the tearing of muscle, and he instinctually tosses it aside. He hears the horse, at last, galloping to a safety he can only yearn for, and he’s not even granted a chance to see which direction it ran before the appendage of likely certified doom separates into smaller tendrils, the trees knocked aside once more until one grazes his torso, perhaps only by a mere stroke of luck, or the lack thereof, and he’s whisked into a pitch-black loss of consciousness.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios angst #gale dekarios bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction

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midnightstar-90 · 10 months

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Stuck

Mindy Meeks Martin x Fem! Reader

Taglist | Requests | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | Scream Masterlist

Requested by Anonymous: “Mindy and y/n are dating and anika is about to fall of the ladder and y/n grabs anika before she does and pulls anika up, and after they all go to the hospital and get patched up and, Mindy does a stab marathon w y/n bc mindys proud of her :)”

Summary: Ghostface attacks the group, and somehow everyone survives.

Warnings: SPOILERS, SPOILERS, SPOILERS Angst, Gore, Stabbing, Blood, Signs of PTSD

A/N: I hated writing this on my phone, but I guess that is what I get for being clumsy. 😩

Anyways, this request was fun to write. I did change a few things from the movie, but not too much. Minor details.

Don’t read if you don’t want Scream 6 spoilers.

And I hope you guys enjoy it. ☺️

Words: 3.4K

Halloween.

A day that emits a constant fear out of me. Thanks to Gale’s books that she continues to write (no matter how many times she gets punched and ridiculed for it), and the Stab movies that follow, Ghostface costume sales have gone through the roof. Everywhere I turn, a Ghostface is lingering nearby, and it doesn’t help that the killings were starting up again. It takes a lot out of me not to pull out the small pocket knife that I’ve been carrying since the Legacy killings back in Woodsboro.

After Sam and Tara were attacked at a bodega, Sam insisted on the whole friend group staying over, including our friends who didn’t fall victim to the events that happened a year ago. So Chad and Tara were in the process of making dinner for everyone, and Mindy and I decided to help out by preparing the table. Everyone else was off doing their own things, all around the house.

I place the last set of utensils that I had in my hand down on the table and look up at Mindy. Everything about her was mesmerizing to me. From the day I met her, I knew I didn’t deserve her, but she chose me, in the end. And the way her mind works, as if everything was a movie, intrigued me. Her thoughts were what made Mindy Mindy, and just the thought made me smile. Nothing had changed about Mindy, besides her hair.

‘I love her.’

Those 3 words are all I could think about when I am around Mindy. But I couldn’t admit that to Mindy, because the last time I admitted my feelings, I was stabbed right after.

That night at Amber’s house constantly replayed in my head.

“I like you, Mindy,” I said with a blush. I shyly looked over at the girl next to me. A shaky breath left my mouth as my Y/E/C eyes met her beautiful brown eyes. The original Stab movie that we were watching reflected off the iris in her eye.

I watched as Mindy’s blank face slowly shifted into a grin. I could see the gears turning in her head as her soft fingers caressed my cheek. “Oh, my naive little Y/N. You are so cute when you act all shy. You know, not all my movie knowledge is in the horror department. I know the basic signs of romance. The tensing of the body whenever I get close. The constant blushing anytime I speak directly to you. The-”

“You could have just said that you like me back,” I spoke with a sigh as my head shifted away from the girl. I hear a soft chuckle before a pair of soft, plump lips press against my cheek. She slowly pulled away, making my body fill with heat. “I like you too,” She mumbled into my ear.

“I-I have to go to the bathroom. Brb.” I nervously stood from my spot on the couch and walked out of the room. Mindy was left confused as I rushed down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hoping that maybe I could give myself some confidence, but it didn’t work. The sound of someone trying to open the door echoed through the bathroom. “Someone’s in here,” I called out to whoever was at the door, but then they began to knock. I assumed it was Mindy trying to get me back to the movie. I still wasn’t ready to face the girl, so I responded with, “Mindy, this isn’t funny. I told you I had to go to the restroom. Cool your jets. We can finish the movie in just a sec.” My voice was still a little shaky as I looked at myself in disappointment.

But it didn’t stop there. I realized it wasn’t Mindy when whoever was at the door began to pound causing me to swiftly turn around and open the door. “Hey, I said-” A cloaked hand covered my mouth as I felt a sudden pain in my abdomen. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my entire life. Ghostface stood in front of me with a knife wedged in my stomach. He pulled the metal weapon out of my body and I grabbed my stomach in pain. Blood pooled through my fingers, leaving my hands stained. I felt a scream leave my throat before Ghostface tackled me down to the ground, and everything went dark.

“Y/N,” Mindy calls out to me. I was back in Sam and Tara’s apartment, and Mindy was standing across from me. I looked down, inspecting myself for any stab wounds or blood, but nothing appeared to be wrong. ‘I must have zoned out,’ I thought to myself, looking back up at Mindy.

“You good?” She asks, giving me a concerned look. I nod, trying to ease her worry, but it didn’t. “You zoned out,” She says, grabbing ahold of my face, turning it from side to side to see if anything was wrong.

“I’m fine, Mindy,” I mutter as I push away her hands. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but she ignores it. I don’t blame her. I knew that if she did something like that, I would be worried too, but ever since I checked out of the hospital last year, I hated when people asked me if I was okay. I felt as if I was being coddled, and I hated that feeling.

Mindy’s gaze moved from off of me and onto Chad and Tara. I watched as her frown became a smirk. “Look,” she repeats, aggressively slapping my shoulder. I wince in pain as I grab ahold of the shoulder she slapped, and I turn around, facing the direction she was pointing at.

Tara and Chad were talking it up in the kitchen. They weren’t physically showing affection for the other, but you could tell by the look in their eyes that they had feelings for each other. It reminded me of how Mindy and I looked at each other before we got together.

“They’re so cute together, and they don’t even know it,” I said, staring at the two with a loving smile.

Mindy began to cringe at my comment. “It’s not cute, it’s annoying, and disgusting to watch.” She then began making gagging sounds, catching the attention of Chad and Tara. I elbowed Mindy for doing what she did, and shaking my head in disbelief, but she continued to speak. “Will you two just make out already?” She asked.

Chad fires back, “Mindy, that is so inappropriate, dude.” Mindy throws her hands up in surrender and I just watch in amusement. “Okay- Whatever. Just hurry it up,” she groaned.

We made our way to the kitchen with Chad and Tara, right Sam walked in with a bottle of wine. Mindy tried telling Sam that we didn’t need to be here, but Sam didn’t agree. “Oh, please,” she scoffed at Mindy. “You and Y/N just want to be alone together.” Chad and Tara laughed as Mindy and I shrugged and gave each other knowing looks.

The conversation then went on to how we would all be safe as one rather than be in separate locations. Chad looked around the group before saying, “This’ll be so fun. A little sleepover with the Core 5.” Everyone looked at Chad, questioning him about the nickname he just gave the group.

He passed a high five around to everyone, hoping to confirm the nickname, which everyone disagreed with. But when he got to me, I cringed at the nickname, but I felt bad. Being the “people pleaser” that I am, I high five the boy back in pity, but Chad didn’t see it that way. “Yesss,” he cheered as the 3 other girls began to berate me for agreeing with the boy.

Anika calls us into the living room where the tv screen shows a news report. It spoke about how the police’s main suspect in the murder against Jason and Greg was Sam. I look over at Sam, giving her a sympathetic look as I begin to notice that her body is tense and she looked as if all the air had been knocked out of her.

I look back at the tv when a video of the frat party came on. Sam quickly moves from behind the couch to turn off the tv, and goes to sit at the dining room table. Tara’s the first one to engage in conversation with the girl before Chad, Mindy, and I join in.

We talk for some time, trying to cheer the girl up. Chad reminds all of us why we all came to New York together, which sparks something we never thought we’d hear. “We are the Core fucking Five,” Mindy says, prompting Chad to pull Mindy and I into a hug. Mindy and I give each other a look before rolling our eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, we are,” he cheers. I shake my head “no” at the boy as Tara and Sam watch us, also wearing a smile. We try to get Tara to say it, but she’s too stubborn.

“I’ve been sleeping with cute boy, from across the hall,” Sam says out of the blue. We all give each other a look before cheering.

“I knew it. I knew it. I fucking knew it,” I say over everyone else’s confirmations. We all stick our hands into the middle of the table, initiating what Chad called a “Core 5” high-five.

It wasn’t until Sam’s phone went off for all of us to go bizarre. It was Danny, AKA cute boy from across the hall. Tara grabs Sam’s phone and acts as if she answered the phone. “So, uh, what are your intentions?” She asks, earning laughs from all around the table.

Sam tried grabbing her phone from her sister, but Tara was quick to push her hand away. When she gets the phone back she declines Danny’s call, saying she’ll call him back.

Moans began to sound from Quinn’s room, just as Sam put her phone down, which made for another joke at the table. When banging sounds started, all our phones went off, signaling a group text. We open our phones to a picture of Ghostface strangling Quinn in her room, and suddenly time just stopped.

I sat in my seat, frozen. I continued to stare at the image as everyone stood up. I felt as if I couldn’t move. As if I was paralyzed. It wasn’t until Ghostface threw Quinn’s dead body out of the room, and revealed himself for me to finally look up.

When my eyes met the dark eyes of the Ghostface mask, I could feel as if whoever was under there was staring me down. I could practically see the smirk on their face. I had a bad feeling about tonight.

Tara and Chad quickly ran out the door as Mindy ran towards the masked killer. Ghostface slacked Mindy’s arm and she fell in pain. I quickly stood from my spot and ran towards Mindy. “Mindy!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Ghostface was beginning to attack Mindy again, but Anika moved the attention off of her by attacking them. Ghostface began to choke Anika, stabbing her in the stomach. I froze in my spot, next to the table as I began to remember the pain I felt when Richie stabbed me the same way.

“Y/N!” I heard Mindy scream. Her screams quickly pulled me out of my trance. I grabbed a dining room chair and made my way over to Ghostface and Anika. The girls screams filled the room as Ghostface dug deeper into Anika which their knife. I lifted the chair over my head and broke it against Ghostface’s back, causing the killer to topple over.

I helped Mindy and Anika stand as I passed Anika off to Mindy, and told her to run. Mindy did as I told her before a cloaked hand grabbed my shoulder and slammed me into the wall. Ghostface stood in front of me, staring at me for a second before stabbing me in the stomach. All the pain that I felt last year rushed back to me as I screamed in agony.

Ghostface twisted the knife in my stomach before yanking it out, causing me to scream louder. I held my stomach in pain, as blood poured out of me. Somehow this felt worse than the first time. Ghostface raised the knife, ready to attack when Sam came up behind them and smacked them over the head with a knife block. Ghostface toppled over, causing the knife to drop off of their hand. The knife slashed my shoulder and I cried out in pain.

“Shit,” I cried as Sam helped me up. We rushed into Sam’s room, where we found Anika and Mindy holding themselves in pain. Sam locked her door before Ghostface could enter. When the banging stopped, Sam remembered the bathroom door was still open, and with Mindy being the closest, she told her to close it.

“Ah, fuck, that guy’s dead,” I heard from Mindy. She began to scream, so I moved as fast as I could to help her. She was struggling to close the door as Ghostface attempted to slash her with their knife. I pulled Mindy back into the room, allowing for Sam to close and lock the door before Ghostface could enter.

Sam and Danny made a plan to escape while Ghostface banged against the door. Mindy held the door shut as I pushed the dresser against the door.

Danny passed a ladder over, telling us to climb over. Sam called me over, but Mindy and I were busy trying to keep Ghostface out. We both urged Sam to go first, which she did hesitantly.

When Sam got over, I turned Mindy and looked her in the eye. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what I would do if you died and I lived. You have to go first, Mindy,” I said through my tears. Mindy shook her head and continued to mumble “no” repeatedly as she cried. I wiped her tears with my bloody fingers as I nodded yes. “You have to go, Mindy. If not for me, then do it for Chad.”

She stared me in the eyes for a total of five seconds before she gave me a soft, yet passionate kiss on the lips. I pulled her closer almost like a goodbye kiss, but she pulled away and said, “I’ll see you on the other side.” I saluted her as she exited through the window.

I waited a few seconds before making sure the door was secure. I made my way to Anika. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. We just have to get you over to Danny’s. Come on,” I said, helping Anika walk over to the window with her arm around my shoulders.

She pulled herself away from me, leaning against the wall. “No, Y/N, you go. I’ll be fine. Go first,” Anika spoke through her pain. I watched as her blood Oozed from her stomach, where she held herself.

I refused to take no for an answer. I grabbed the girl and basically pushed her out the window. She was in the most pain, so she took longer to climb over.

I looked over at the door, seeing Ghostface was almost in. I hurriedly began to climb out the window, even with Anika still climbing over. I rushed to be directly behind Anika as the shouts from Danny’s got louder. I looked behind me, seeing Ghostface standing at the window. When I looked toward Mindy, the ladder began to rattle. I look back at Ghostface, seeing them shaking the ladder.

“Anika, we have to move quicker,” I spoke, trying to hold my balance. Anika sat frozen on the ladder. “Come on, Anika.”

“I know. I’m scared,” she cried. I noticed that her grip wasn’t holding on as well as mine and that with one more shake she’d be done for. I looked at where Anika was and where we were from Danny’s apartment and I took a leap of faith. I gently pushed Anika close enough to grab Sam’s hand.

She quickly pulled her in before another shake came to the ladder. I crawled a little more before feeling myself start to slip. “You got this Y/N,” I heard Mindy call out. But between the constant shaking and the major loss of blood, I didn’t feel like I had this.”

I felt my leg fall through the gap in the ladder as another shake came about. I slipped, feeling myself scream and close my eyes, but I didn’t feel myself falling. I’ve been on enough drop towers to know that this certainly wasn’t it.

I opened my eyes and there I was, holding onto the ladder as if I was on the monkey bars. I laughed at my amazing reflexes, but it didn’t last long for another shake. I tried my best to ignore the pain from the stab wounds and I began to climb. I felt like a little kid again. Like I was at the playground. I tried channeling those thoughts before I made it to the last bar.

Danny reached his hands out from between the bars. I accepted his help and shakily grabbed his hand. He attempted to pull me up through the bars, which proved to be more difficult than I thought. As my body slipped through the bars, my stomach slid against them causing me to scream in pain. Danny didn’t flinch, only mumbling “sorry” over and over again, continuing to pull me up. Sam joined in and I eventually made it through, but I’d lost so much blood that I just passed out.

I woke up in the hospital. Mindy was the only one in the room. She sat next my bed while holding my hand, but her attention wasn’t on me. It was on the tv, which was playing the original stab movie.

“You’re not finishing the movie without me are you?” I questioned with a raspy voice.

Shocked, she looked over at me, pulling me into a hug. I groaned in pain causing her to quickly let go. “Sorry, I’m just happy you’re awake,” she said, looking down at me with a happy smile. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched me. I watched her also, noticing that she only wiped her tears when she sniffled.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, looking around.

Mindy smiled, “You missed everything, babe.” I looked at her confused before telling her to continue. “Well, how do I start? You’ve been in a medically induced coma for 3 days. Doctor said Ghostface really messed you up, and that you almost didn’t make it. But here you are,” she said, adding flare with her hands.

“So is it over?” I questioned, eager to hear about everything.

“Yes, Ethan, Quinn, and Officer Bailey turned out to be the Ghostfaces taunting us. And-“

“Wait… Quinn was one of the Ghostface? I thought she was dead.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t trust someone with a cop for a father. They faked her death with Officer Bailey arriving first to switch the bodies,” She explained.

I shook my head in disbelief. I took my unused hand and tried to hide my face in it. Mindy squeezed the hand she was holding before continuing. “You saved Anika. She probably wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t push her through. She also stayed in the hospital. In the end, Gale and Kirby almost died, but they survived. I was stabbed on the subway. Chad somehow survived a shit load of jabs at his abdomen, and Sam and Tara ended up getting stitches. So far, everyone is getting discharged tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” I softly spoke before my face scrunched in confusion. “Wait, you were stabbed?” I asked, concerned.

“Yes. Keep up, babe,” she said quickly as if she didn’t want to talk about it. “Want to have a Stab marathon, like old times?”

I smiled at the girl and rolled my eyes. “Sure. But we are talking about this later. Understand?” I scowled at her.

“Yes, mom,” she mocked with a salute.

Mindy restarted the first stab movie, sitting back into her chair. As soon as the movie started, I pulled her into the hospital bed with me, and we started our marathon.

A/N: So, I rewatched the movie to write this, and it took me two watches to realize how much these mfs be fucking Ghostface up, and yet the mfs behind the mask don’t have no bruises, wounds, or nothing. I’m sooo confused.😐🤷🏽‍♀️

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bloodynereid · 11 days

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Melted Gold

pairing: marjorie 'marge' spencer x fem! reader

tw: period typical homophobia (mostly just internalised but it's there unfortunately), slight angst, mention of gale, mentions of kissing, fluff, emotional cheating???

description: two women meet on a sunny afternoon in a bookstore.

a/n: today i give you ww2 lesbians!! i literally adore marge sm, she's my wife even if she only got like 5 minutes of screen time which was honestly such a shame. anyways hope you enjoy even though i literally made up marge's entire personality at this point. ALSO isabel may is so so beautiful. OH and this is in no way about the real people just the silly little fictionalised versions of them <333

i am deceased, look at herrrr

The world was warm and bright with the sun pouring in through the windows of the bookstore you were visiting. Life felt serene and calm while you were surrounded by books. You had allowed yourself the luxury of buying a single book with the wages you had gotten from the waitressing job, even if you should probably be saving it for something.

But now it seemed like an impossible decision, there was a pile of four books in your arms and yet you were still looking at the shelves. Then you saw it… a beautiful edition of the Jane Austen book you had been meaning to read for quite a while.

The moment your fingers started to graze the spine someone bumped into your side.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” A woman's voice greeted you as a hand grabbed hold of your arm to steady you.

“It’s totally fine, no harm done.” You said with a smile as you met the woman’s brown eyes. She was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. And then you stopped that thought process short, she probably had a husband or something and was most definitely straight. There was absolutely no chance there.

“I’m Marge.” The blonde said, smiling as she retracted her hand from your arm. Instantly you missed the solid weight of her hand but gave her your name with a smile.

“I’m glad I didn’t totally bump into you, those books might not have survived the fall.” You laughed in response and looked down at the four rather large books in your hand.

“I think they might have drowned me actually.”

“Are you going to buy all of those or…” Marge said with a laugh as you smiled at her, trying not to look too enthralled by her presence.

“Oh no, I do not have enough money for that, or enough time. I’m trying to choose between them.”

“Ah, I have the same problem.” Marge said as she pulled out two books from her shopping bag and shrugged her shoulders.

“We should start a book club at this rate.” You said before internally recoiling, well there goes your chance at even becoming friends with her, shit.

“Oh I would love that! I just moved here and it’s hard to meet people.” Marge’s face instantly brightened and it felt like her smile just made all the thoughts in your brain disappear.

“I- That would be wonderful. And don’t worry, I’ve lived here for quite a while and I still have a hard time making friends.”

“I’m glad I bumped into you then!” You smiled and then went to pull out the hardcover copy of Emma from the book shelf.

“How about we start with this? There’s two copies here anyways.”

“Oh! Jane Austen! This is absolutely perfect. One moment, let me just-” You watched as Marge rustled around in her purse for a moment and pulled out a pencil and a small pad of paper. “Here.” Marge said as she offered you the piece of paper after a few moments of scribbling. You took it, only to find that a telephone number was written on it with a little heart next to it, which instantly made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Perfect! I’ll call you after my shift tonight?”

“Sounds great, better not lose that then.”

“Cross my heart.”

Marge felt anxious, which was a peculiar feeling to be having all because of some girl. You weren’t some girl though… Marge internally berated herself for even thinking what she was starting to think. You were so beautiful and it felt like fate to bump into you but who was she kidding? There was absolutely no way that anyone like you would be interested in her! Anyways she had Gale.

Gale… Marge proceeded to start biting her nails as her knee anxiously bounced up and down. The newspaper in her lap long abandoned as she retreated into the corners of her daydreams. Marge had never felt this anxious over a man, not even Gale. She was always able to just talk to him, she never felt all that flustered around him. Not like how she felt when she bumped into you at the bookstore.

She started straying into her thoughts of how the light came in just right to make you seem like an angel earlier that day when the phone rang. The sharp sound quickly drew her out of her frenzied mind and she quickly stood up, letting the newspaper fall messily onto the ground as she quite literally flew to the telephone.

“Hello, this is Marjorie speaking.”

“Marge? Hi! We met at the bookstore earlier today, I was wondering if you might want to meet tomorrow? I know this little cafe near the diner and I could- I’m rambling aren’t I? Please feel free to talk at any time.” Marge’s face quickly erupted in a giggle as she listened to you talk, she could feel the skin of her face quickly dusting with blush.

“That sounds absolutely divine. When would you like me to meet you?”

“Would around 3pm work?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great. Uh well I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Actually! If you don’t mind talking for a little longer… I’m not exactly doing much at the moment.” Marge heard what resembled a squeak down the line that had the smile on her face widening even more as she eagerly awaited your response.

“I- I would love that. I don’t really have any plans at the moment.”

“What, no loverboy?” Marge was genuinely asking to be polite, at least that is what she told herself as she internally prayed that you were single.

“Oh God no! I wouldn’t be caught dead.” You said laughing over the line, you sounded just like melted gold Marge thought as she felt a burst of instant relief.

You tapped your foot against the edge of the table and then gingerly picked up the white mug. Blowing off the steam of the hot coffee, you carefully took a sip and let the pure energy go down your throat. You needed it after staying up far too late talking to Marge. Oh Marge…

Still in a slight state of disbelief you thumbed the pages of Emma and traced over certain words. Making up a little poem in your head as you waited for your date to arrive. Well, not a date date. You were just waiting for a friend, you told yourself as you took another sip of coffee.

Looking up for a moment you spotted Marge’s blonde curls as she quickly walked over to one of the post boxes in front of the cafe and then crouched to push a letter in. You tilted your head as you watched her hesitate for a few moments before nodding slightly and letting the letter fall into place.

You took another delicate sip of coffee and blatantly stared as the beautiful woman you now could call a friend walked into the cafe. She was obviously looking for you and she stood unsure for a few moments, scanning the faces of the patrons before her eyes finally landed on you.

You waved and quickly motioned over to the little table you had saved. Smiling as she sat down, Marge quickly pulled out her copy of Emma and placed it next to yours on the table.

“So what do you want to drink? I would have gotten you something but-”

“Anything is fine, darling. What are you drinking?”

“Just black coffee.”

“Then that should be fine for me.”

“Great.” You started to stand up but suddenly felt the lightest brushing of Marge’s fingers on your wrist, you quickly tried to suppress the smile on your lips as you looked down at the blonde. Only to find she was already staring at you with something in her eyes. An emotion you couldn’t really place but made you feel all floaty.

“Marge?” You whisper her name out as a question and she only cryptically smiled up at you.

“You have such a pretty smile, any person must be delighted to kiss you.” You felt your jaw drop as she whispered those sinful little words out so no one could hear her over the din of other conversations.

“And who do you have in mind?”

“Oh I think you know.”

we need more marge fics !!! also some random details: marge's letter that she sends at the end is actually her letter to gale telling him that she's breaking up with him! also gale and bucky are 100% dating and he's actually kind of glad that she broke up with him - they stay friends tho and everyone lives happily ever after <3 let me know what you thinkkkk

#masters of the air #maria writes #mota #mota x reader #masters of the air x reader #marge #marge masters of the air #marge mota #marge cleven #marge spencer #isabel may #isabel may x reader #marge x reader #marge spencer x reader #mota fic #mota fanfic

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oceankat8 · 7 months

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Sorry I've been gone I was playing Baldur's Gate and I'm a v slow player... I just got to arc 2 but I have been having So much fun. Anyways here's my Tav, they're a failed paladin turned fighter <3 they're from Baldur's Gate and they're mostly neutral but also soft to people asking for help. They originally hated magic (they cant use it to save their life...literally. it's why they're a fighter.) but Gale seduced them with his magic act and now they're v protective of him.

They're also maybe a bit too trusting...hence the unfortunate situation with their once beautiful pair of brown eyes 😔

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #Tav (oc)#technically?#kat8 #fanart #art

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sp00kworm · 4 years

Text

A Fayre (Part 2 )

Pairing: Rakuh (Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Blood and Injury description.

Part 1

Tag List: @silverclawz

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“Rakuh?” You peered into the workshop with a worried frown, “Your mum is worried.”

Shul had grabbed you as you pulled up into the garages, a great worried frown painting her features as she tucked her hands into her apron. Apparently, she hadn’t seen Rakuh since that morning. It was a Sunday. The garage was closed, except for emergencies, so the two brothers were free to spend their time as they wished on their day off. Usually that meant Rakuh spent his time alone working on his own projects while Xurek whisked himself off to the city for a day socialising.

A grunt of acknowledgement came from further inside the work shed. Typical, you grumbled to yourself as you stepped inside and took your coat off. It was far too warm in the shed with all the metal working. The clang of a hammer smacking against superheated metal drew you into Rakuh’s working room.

“Rakuh?” You cooed as you watched him heavily smack away at one of the final imperfections in a shoulder pauldron, “Shul is worried, and you know if you don’t go and have your lunch she’ll interrupt you and make you mad.”

Rakuh worked the dent free before cooling the metal in a water bucket and pulling his visor free, “Is it lunch time already?” He asked as he reached for his towel to wipe the caked sweat from his face, “Fuck.” He cursed as he wiped his hands on the towel, black smudges staining the fabric.

“You forgot again, didn’t you?” You joked as you watched Rakuh scrub at his face on another rag and sigh at the sweat and charcoal that came off his skin, “I’m not mad.” You soothed as he looked at you sheepishly, “But we better get inside for lunch before Shul comes and kicks your backside herself.”

“I’m sorry.” Rakuh muttered. He gently cooled the forge off before taking you by the hand and dragging you back towards the house, “You go on inside.” He insisted, “I should go and get a shower out back. Ma won’t let me in the house if I’m treading muck in.”

“You’re not that…” Your eyes widened as he sighed and pulled off his shirt, his chest covered in sweat and metallic grime from the fire and hammer, “Never mind. You go and shower. I’ll let your mum know you’re coming.” Rakuh nodded but before he could run off you reached up to kiss at his cheek. After grumbling and blushing, snatched at your chin and kissed your forehead softly before he disappeared to the small, sheltered shower block back towards the garage. They usually used the outbuilding for showering off after working in the garage, but it served just as well for Rakuh and Gurlog with their other messy hobbies.

You opened the door to the house with a smile and shouted through to the kitchen as you pulled your shoes off by the door, “He’s just having a shower, Shul!” You shouted before tucking your shoes up against the wall.

Shul smacked a pan of vegetables on the side, “That bloody boy!” She cursed softly and apologised before waving you in, “Be a gem and help me plate up? Oh, but first, go and give Gurlog a kick? He’s fallen asleep in front of the rugby, again!” Shul huffed, her greying, black hair swinging in a dangerous, whip tight braid, as she started draining the other pans of water and reached down to take a roasting tin from the oven.

You took a drink in your hands for Gurlog and gently shook the old man by his shoulder, “Shul wants you up, Gurlog.” You smiled and offered him the large cup of herbal tea, “Dinner is ready as well…But it looks like your team lost.” You pointed at the score.

Gurlog cursed, and gave one vicious stomp in annoyance, “Typical! I fall asleep and they lose! They were winning before I dropped off!” He insisted before sitting up and rubbing his eyes, “I’ll be through in a minute. Tell ‘er, before she blows through the roof.” He chuckled before taking a sip of tea.

With a salute you headed back to the kitchen to help Shul begin plating up the large lunch, which was, apparently, a tradition in their household.

Gurlog sat down at the table with little fanfare and smiled as you placed his roast meat lunch in front of him. Your own lunch was much smaller than all the others but, considering the other three were Orcs, you weren’t too concerned.

Shul sat down and shook her head as Rakuh dashed up the side of the house, fresh bottoms pulled on but his chest bare. As the door opened, Shul leaned back to scowl at her son, “Go and put a shirt on! Then, and only then, will I let you into this kitchen!”

Rakuh growled in the hallway but you smiled as he stomped up the stairs and then back down once again. He reappeared in the kitchen doorway with socks on his feet and a tight-fitting t-shirt on, “Better now Ma?” He asked with a scoff as he sat down next to you at the table, “Is Xurek not eatin’ with us?”

“No, he left and said he was eating out, don’t you remember?” Shul asked before sighing as Rakuh frowned, trying to remember his brother even leaving the house, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” She joked.

“I don’t even remember seeing him leave to be honest.” Rakuh grunted as you all started to eat, “I was busy with the pauldrons all morning. I barely remember what breakfast was.”

Shul clicked her tongue.

Gurlog reached out and squeezed at her thigh, “Shul, leave the boy alone. You know exactly what he’s like.” He took his hand back and smiled, “Besides, Xurek really is missing out this time. Its delicious, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, darling.” Shul’s rage seemed to melt as she smiled at her husband.

“So,” Gurlog chewed a great piece of roasted beef before continuing, “Where are you both off to today?”

“Up to try and spot some of the new fawn from the Red Deer. They’re apparently up towards the west hills. I heard the old salmon fisher talking about it.” Rakuh offered as he sliced up his own food.

Gurlog sighed through his nose, “They’re like vermin those things.” With a scoff he ate another mouthful before commenting, “Not the most romantic thing, Rakuh.”

Shul scowled and kicked Gurlog underneath the dinner table.

Gurlog gave a grunt and a sad look of pain before putting on a fake smile, “But I heard the heather is lookin’ nice.”

“I think it’s a lovely idea.” Shul offered, “Would you like me to pack you both some food? I can make a flask of tea while I’m at it if you’d like?”

Rakuh opened his mouth, scowling, but didn’t get to say a word before you cut him off.

“A flask of tea would be nice, Shul. But don’t worry about the food. I think we’ll both be full until tomorrow!” You nudged Rakuh’s knee.

The male Orc looked down at you before rolling his eyes, “She’s going to make sandwiches for when we get back anyway…”

Shul smiled, “Of course. Sunday supper.” She nodded her head, her earrings clinking, before turning the conversation onto other matters, “Are you going up there to propose, Rakuh?”

Both of you simultaneously chocked on the roasted vegetables.

Purple Heather was in bloom across the peaty sides of the hills, long stems of grass between the shrubbery stretching towards the sky in a desperate attempt to see the last rays of the summer sun. So high in the dales, most of the weather consisted of rain and wind. The pine trees were thick in the place you pulled over in Rakuh’s truck. The air was damp but sweet with the smell of heather pollen and you stuck your nose out of the window to smell at it. The drizzle dampened your skin as you looked around at the thin outcrops of pine trees. Rakuh was characteristically quiet next to you, looking at the trees, the wipers of the four by four swiping left and right at timed intervals.

“We’re not likely to see them if it rains any harder.” Rakuh whispered as he looked at the treeline, “They don’t like the rain.” He chuckled softly before catching your hand in his own.

Softly, you squeezed his hand, locking your fingers together as you peered out of the window, your coat collar tugged up to keep the breeze out. The trees swayed in the gales from the hills and Rakuh sighed as the weather worsened.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing any deer today, Rakuh.” You offered with a disappointed smile, “Maybe the weather will be better next week?”

Rakuh huffed, “Typical. The day I bring you to see them they don’t show.” He grumbled with his elbow rested on the car door, looking out at the field.

Suddenly he perked up, pointed ears alert as he looked out at a set of old dry-stone wall, “Over there.” He whispered as you undid your belt and leaned over to see what the Orc was looking at. There was a long stretch of crumbling dry-stone with hedgerows growing either side. It was a field made for cattle, but beyond the small gate in the middle, a rough, brown coloured hide of a deer poked out, visible through the bars of the gate. You smiled as you perched yourself across Rakuh’s lap, watching the deer’s tail flip left and right before it raised its head. It was a stag, great antlers tall and proud on top of its head as it looked around the fields before it stuck its head back down into the grass it was eating previously.

“Its beautiful.” You cooed softly as Rakuh grunted and pulled you properly into his lap, sitting you across his thighs as you both watched the stag perk up again and slowly walk along the wall, big eyes trained on the car as it headed back towards the trees.

“At least we saw one.” Rakuh rumbled as you watched the white backside of the stag disappear back into the trees.

“We saw a stag, that’s pretty impressive in itself.” You smiled as you peered at the trees before remembering you were spread over Rakuh’s lap.

With a tug, Rakuh stopped you from rushing back to your own seat, “You can stay there if you want?” He blushed a bright cherry colour before placing his hands on the bottom of your back, the fingers rubbing small circles.

Smiling, you reached up to tug at the septum piercing in his nose. The big gold ring was an easy target, and Rakuh wasn’t fast enough to stop you tugging his face down with the piece of jewellery. You laid a kiss on his lips before he could grumble about something and gave a soft noise as he relaxed against you. Carefully, you traced around the bottom of his tusks and rubbed the soft, sensitive skin as you pulled away from his lips.

“You need to stop surprising me with those.” Rakuh huffed. His cheeks burned with the bright colour of his blood, “I can kiss as well, ya know?” He grumbled before dodging the next tug to his large, thick septum ring. Your hands were pinned in front of you before the Orc took the initiative and pressed you back in a hot kiss. Tusks grazed against your cheeks as you pushed back into the kiss and wound your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. Ginger strands of hair came loose from the braids and sat between your fingers as you held onto Rakuh tight, determined not to let the male get away from you again. Unfortunately, you were still the first one to break away for air, but as soon as you took a few breaths of air, Rakuh was on you again, his lips pressed to yours as his tongue prodded uncertainly at your lips and licked inside of your mouth. Your tongues met briefly before Rakuh pulled away with a deep grumble, his fingers pinching tightly at your hips and bottom, squeezing the flesh tight before he reached to stroke over your jaw and neck. You looked at the Orc and traced your own fingers over the freckles over his cheeks and nose, playing dot-to-dot with the brown freckles before flicking the golden earrings in his ears and rubbing his beard playfully.

Rakuh’s teeth clicked as he smiled bright and wide, hugging you to his front as the rain bounced off the road and the car’s windscreen. He adjusted his braid over his shoulder before gripping you tightly to his front again, blushing, embarrassed but happy.

“What did I do to deserve someone like you?” He sighed happily before holding your face in his huge hands and kissing you softly on the nose.

You snagged his nose ring again in order to place just as soft a kiss on Rakuh’s nose, “That’s my line.” You cooed, “You’re just perfect.”

“Hardly. You’re human and…” Rakuh grumbled when you gave him a curious look, “You’re so… Gorgeous. You’re too good for an Orc.” He confessed as his eyebrows furrowed with worry, “No one likes me enough or has ever… ya know, gotten to know me to get this far…”

“Well I have, and I think you’re perfect.” You offered as you took his hands and kissed him again, softly yet resolute.

Rakuh huffed against his seat before kissing you again and nodding, “How about we go to the fayre at the end of the month?” He offered, “My treat. It’s a weekend thing that we do to meet up with distant relatives. Most Orc clans have them. ‘Celebrates our history.”

You nodded as you listened before you grinned at the Orc, “Will I get to see your armour and outift?” You poked him excitedly, “And the kilt?”

Rakuh nodded with a blush as he placed you back into your own seat, “Yeah. The kilt as well.”

“No underwear?” You asked.

“We’ll see.” He grunted as he turned on the engine and put the car into gear.

Rakuh shouted your name from the bedroom of the house. You were both the last people left. Shul and Gurlog had left with Xurek in tow, revving his motorcycle behind his parents before zooming off in front. Rakuh waved from the bannister as you peered up the stairs.

“Have you gotten dressed?” He asked as he leaned over the bannister. His dark eyes looked you up and down as he frowned, “You’re goin’ in that?”

You shrugged, “Yeah? Does it matter what I go in? Its only a re-enactment fayre, isn’t it?”

Rakuh scoffed at the top of the stairs before waving you up, “Come ‘ere.” He stomped back towards his room to fetch something. As you made it to the top of the stairs, he reappeared with a bag in his hand, “I had Ma help me with the measurements and she did most of the stitching but I added the leather and…Here!” He grunted as he thrust the bag into your hands, “Get into that. I’ll get the car runnin’.” You took the bag from Rakuh and watched him walk down the stairs, the blue and white kilt he had on flapping behind his thighs.

You peered into the bag after the front door opened and then closed with a resolute bang. There was a whole outfit. The clan tartan adored a sash for you to wear along with other hard-wearing clothing and leather additions. It was a typical outfit for an Orc married to a warrior, except sized down for your human needs. You pulled the blue and white tartan out of the bag and smiled at the soft sash before quickly ducking into the bathroom to change out of your normal clothing and into the new ones. You pulled on the soft leather and cotton before tying the great hanging sash around your waist and shoulder. It was warm underneath the layers but you looked in the bottom of the bag and smiled at the faux fur coat. After you pulled the coat on, you tied it closed with the belt before rushing to the bottom of the stairs and pausing by the door. A pair of boots were sat in front of the door and you quickly threw your sneakers into the bag with the rest of your clothes before putting the boots on and rushing out to the car, locking the door only after a brief afterthought.

Rakuh smiled at you as you posed beside his side of the car. He whistled jokingly at you as you gave him a spin, “It suits you.”

“Thank you for making it. And Shul! It must have taken you both so long!” You exclaimed as you leaned through the driver’s side window to give him a long kiss, “Its amazing, so thank you.” You cooed at the Orc.

“Anything for you.” Rakuh uttered against your lips before reaching his hand out of the window to smack at your backside, “Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

You yelped at the swat, rubbing your backside through the coat as you walked around the four-by-four and opened the passenger seat. You tucked the house keys into the glove box before fastening your belt and smiling at Rakuh.

“Ma’s got the lunches, so we’re set…I think.” He rubbed his ginger beard before shrugging and reversing off the driveway, “You ready for an Orcish fayre?” Rakuh asked as he shifted into gear and started along the main town road.

“As ready as I’ll ever be!”

The hills turned into flat farmland after a while of driving along small, one car wide roads. Eventually you joined onto a main road and watched as the beginnings of civilization appeared. You drove through a large town, passing a number of department stores before heading back out into the countryside. The farmers’ fields turned into traffic ridden roads and you listened to Rakuh grumble next to you.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He cursed as the car slowed to a crawl. You both had most of the armour and normal clothes in the back for the way home, so he was sat shirtless in the summer heat, one hand on the wheel and his arm out of the window.

“I’m sure it’ll move.” You offered before you heard a text notification from your phone. You opened your phone and looked at the text message from Shul, “She says the traffic is because of the fayre turn off.” You offered, “But apparently its also because your uncle broke down at the entrance. They’re moving him out of the way now.”

“Fuckin’ typical.” He grunted as he shook his head, “We won’t even have time to get ready properly at this rate!” Rakuh huffed as he pointed his thumb back at the armour and body paint, both of which he had in the back seat for his display fight.

“Don’t panic! We’ll get there in no time.”

Thirty minutes later the traffic finally let up, and you stretched happily as you finally got out of the car, reaching for the sky as you popped your back.

Rakuh popped open the boot of the car and pulled out your bag for you before he went to collect the paint and armour off the back seat, “Do you think you could help me to get ready?” He asked softly.

You smiled, “Of course.”

“You made it!” Shul’s voice rang out over the carpark and she gasped in glee at your outfit, “Oh he did give it you!” She cooed as she took hold of your face and squashed your cheeks before stepping back to admire the fit, “You know he had me sneaking around with laundry to find sizes and everything!”

Rakuh’s head peered over the roof of the car, “Ma! Shut up!” He was bright red as he scowled at Shul. His mother simply grinned, exposing the pretty bands around her tusks before she snorted at him and went to go and grab your leather pieces and accessories. Rakuh handed them over without protest but rolled his eyes at Shul’s excitement as she tugged you forwards to dress you properly.

“I need…” Rakuh was stopped with a scowl and a growl from his mother as she helped you wear your clothes in the proper orcish fashion.

Shull huffed, “You’ll get your turn.” You heard Gurlog laugh from behind her as he went to go and help Rakuh fasten his armour plates to his body.

“Is Ma done cooing over you now?” Rakuh asked as he sat down in one of the lawn chairs Gurlog had brought along. He shook his head and opened the bag of paints and accessories with a small smile.

“I think so, but she insisted on putting these on my outfit.” You showed him the tied pieces of bone to your thin leathers and chuckled before pointing to the body paint in his hand, “Do you still need some help with that?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Rakuh nodded and opened the tin with a crinkle of his nose, “You’ll want a brush.” He pointed to the bag, “This stuff stains.”

You rustled in the large bag before finding a brush, “What is it made out of?” You asked as he placed the pot on the camping table.

“Woad. It’s a plant. You mush it all up and it produces a blue dye.” Rakuh sat forwards on the chair and leaned over to expose his back to you, “I brought some designs.” He pulled out a piece of paper with various runes and old tribal designs, “You can paint around the tattoos.”

You looked at the sheet on the table and hummed, “I think I can do something for you.” You smiled as you dipped the brush in the pot of Woad and set to work replicating the three-pronged spirals over Rakuh’s back and shoulders.

The fayre was in full swing by the time you met up with Xurek by the large animal arena. They were showing a large horse off, the creature easily well over two metres tall. Its fur was brushed to perfection, the black shiny, and its mane was fastened up on its neck in small buns. It trotted around the arena in a big circle as the Orc in the centre whistled.

“They’re not selling any of the pigs this year.” Xurek offered as you both looked into the pen, leaning back as the huge draught horse came running past once more, “Apparently they’ve had a tough breeding season. They’re too small to show and sell yet. Need more time with their Ma.” He grinned as the horse came past again, “A beauty though this girl.”

Rakuh nodded, “Big chest and strong legs.” He scoffed at Xurek’s eyebrow wiggle, “You need to go and chase skirts or somethin’.”

“What else do they show here?” You asked as the horse went up for bidding.

“Usually Pigs, Wargs and Horses but I think they’ll only be Wargs and Horses this year.” Xurek said sadly as the horse was sold for a small fortune.

Rakuh hummed, “The Wargs are usually very expensive. Ma used to breed ‘em before we came along. Ran a big farm up in the hills to stop ‘em killing things. She had a few show winners.” Rakuh smiled brightly as a white and black spotted Warg was brought into the ring.

You watched the beast snarl lowly as the lead was attached to its harness and it was whistled into action, prowling around the ring in a light walk. Rakuh gave a whistle as the male lumbered past and you watched the pointed ear twist in your direction as burning orange eyes watched Rakuh. Its snort snout opened in another growl as a child rubbed at its fur. The Warg returned to the child and sat by the fence, ignoring commands as the little girl giggled and rubbed at its fur. The beast returned her mile dopily, its tongue hanging from its mouth. All of a sudden, you realised the tall beasts were simply a wolfish great cat, happy for any attention. It shook its head and the pointed fur down its back wiggled before it lumbered around once more and sat low to the ground as the auction began.

“Why don’t you buy a pup?” You asked softly as Rakuh watched the Warg longingly.

He scoffed before replying, “We hardly have enough room to raise a Warg at home.” Rakuh wrapped your arm back through his own as you headed towards the small large holding and display tent for the animals up for sale.

“I’m sure Shul wouldn’t mind if you converted a bit of the garden. Its massive!” You poked at his arm, careful not to poke the Woad stain tattoos on his shoulders.

“Maybe one day.” He offered lamely as you both strolled into the flap of the animal tent.

There was a lot of horses in stalls, kicking and huffing, others chewing hay, looking at you both boredly as you went through. A small pen housed chickens and the one next to it geese, then ducks flapped around in the end zone. They clucked and quacked loudly. The Wargs were in their own tent, away from the prey animals to stop there being too much stress. You looked in awe at the variation in colours and patterning. Rakuh chuckled at your wonder and steered you closer to the pups. The Warg mother sniffed at you through the pen bars but laid down on her side again as her pups rushed around, jumping over her stomach and snapping at one another. There was one with sandy coloured fur and spots like a cheetah climbing on her belly, whining at her as it began to jump. She rolled and the pup slid off, whimpering pathetically as it landed on the floor in a lump. A lick got it back up and it soon returned to its sand coloured siblings to carry on wrestling.

“They’re adorable.” You cooed as one snapped through the bars at your sash.

Rakuh snorted with laughter, “They’re much more dangerous than they look.” He assured you as they started wrestling again.

“You should have one, Rakuh. It would be good for you.” You teased.

The Orc laid a kiss on your hair, “You are more than enough for me at the moment, love.” He took your arm again as you left the pups with a final coo and took you along the path towards the young males.

The display matches were brutal.

“Jesus Christ.” Xurek cringed as the male competitor was carried off on a stretcher, his arm entirely in the wrong position. The female, who had battered the other competitor black and blue, rushed over to apologise and help get the Orc to a hospital to reset his arm. There was a commotion as the doctor on site rushed to pop the shoulder back into place.

“Rakuh are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked, fear welling in your gut as the Orc took his mace from your hand before asking for his shield with a curl of his fingers. The heavy, metal, circular shield weighed a ton to you as you passed it to your lover.

He blew hair between his tusks before leaning to give you another kiss to the forehead, “I promise. I’ll be safe. That match went on too long, but that idiot didn’t call it.” He pointed back at the male who was sat in agony with his arm limp by his side, “I’ll stop if I get too badly beaten.”

Xurek laughed from behind you, “Unlikely! You’ve not been beaten yet, nor ‘av you ever yielded!”

You scowled at Rakuh, “Promise me.” You leaned up to kiss his bottom lip, your fingers rubbing at his beard before you tied a strip of cloth around his arm tight, “A good luck token for my knight.”

The Orc blushed and huffed but gave you a nod, “I’m no knight…but I promise. I’ll be careful.”

The announcer hollered from the stand and you tapped his backside with your fingers, “Now get in there and give them what for.”

Rakuh strode into the ring with confidence, his hair ringing with metallic clicks as his braids waved over his back. The round started as the other Orc entered the ring. The sand kicked up with their circling and instantly you were worried for Rakuh. A long sword was hefted over the other’s shoulder and you looked at Rakuh’s defensive stance as the other Orc strode closer. They were as broad and tall as one another, covered in blue stains of war paint as they circled closer and closer to one another. The first hit came from Rakuh as his mace clipped against the side of the great sword and glanced off with a metallic scrape. The other started his barrage then, driving Rakuh backwards steps with great heavy blows. Rakuh was not small enough to duck or dodge the blows, so he was forced to take them upon his shield and wait, grunting underneath the heavy weight of each strike. Rakuh grunted and stepped two back to avoid a sweep before rushing forwards, glancing the sword from his shield before slamming into the other Orc. The overconfidence sent the other flying backwards, his weapon flying from his grip as he hit the stand with a great thump. Rakuh advanced quickly as the other scrambled for his weapon. As the mace came down, he rolled and snatched for Rakuh’s legs. Rakuh was quick, stepping back, dodging the grab but allowing his opponent time to grab his weapon and defend himself against the next blow of the mace. The two of them separated and growled, circling each other, spinning their weapons before they locked again. Rakuh’s shield shove was dodged, and he feinted into a quick flick of his mace, catching the Orc on the arm. They both locked after that. Rakuh took the tip of the blade to his cheek and a heavy punch to the nose. They both continued pushing against each other before Rakuh’s mace cracked against his leg and the other Orc was sent to the floor.

“Called!” The announcer threw his hands in the air and gestured for the medics to see to the cuts and bruises.

“Rakuh!” You screamed joyously as he walked out of the ring and you were quick to grab his face, forcing him to drop his weapon and shield in order to hold your hips, “You did amazing.” You smiled and placed your forehead against his own.

“Thank you, love.” He said before pushing you away gently, “Now let me get this seen to, then I’m all yours.” A medic laughed behind the both of you before sitting Rakuh down by the ring, a box in his hands ready to stitch up his lip.

“Broken nose again this year, Rakuh.” She tutted as he pointed at you, “Look here.” He did and growled as she snapped his nose back into place, pushing her fingers against it before she tapped the bone back in place, “It’s nasty but you’ll be fine in a few weeks.” She snapped open a saline bottle and poured it over the slice to his cheek, scolding him for squirming before she took out her stitching equipment and laughed, “Hold his hand for this. He’s always been a big baby.” The elderly medic laughed at Rakuh’s growl and smiled as you took his hand, holding him still as she set to work, putting three stitches into the deep cut to keep it shut before she cleaned it once more and covered it with a patch dressing.

“Now, you look after him, I’m going to go and check on the other one. He took a very nasty blow to the leg.” She huffed and returned to the ring.

Rakuh scowled after her, “Vicious hag.”

You slapped his arm but kissed at his uninjured cheek as Rakuh sat down with a huff, “How about we get you that puppy to make you feel better?” You joked.

“Har har.” He scoffed before he kissed you more soundly, in a brazen show of confidence. You leaned into the kiss and hummed softly before Rakuh hissed, tugging away in pain. You had bumped his broken nose.

“Sorry.” You stroked his forehead and pouted, “Now I can’t see all your freckles.” You whined as you brushed the tape over his nose and the dressing on his cheek.

“You can see all of these you baby.” Rakuh touched your hand to his cheek and you paused, feeling his heart beating heavily in his chest.

You smiled and helped him up from the chair, “I love you.” You gushed and Rakuh paused.

His breathing caught in his throat as you wound your fingers together, peering up at the giant Orc with nothing but love in your eyes. After all the months together, he still wasn’t used to the adoration in your eyes, “I…” He blushed, his chest turning pink as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck, “I love you too.” He confessed gruffly. You leaned up to give him another kiss and smiled brightly as Rakuh wrapped you tightly in his arms.

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lesetoilesfous · 3 years

Note

did you have another nightmare? For Zev/Warden (could also be Zev/Alistair!)

Oh man I kind of forgot how much I love writing my OCs, thank you so so much!!!!!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Zevwarden

Characters: Zevran Arainai, F!Warden Tabris

Tags: Tabris and Zevran have enough baggage to block the Suez canal, hurt/comfort, angst, nothing explicit, something something intricate rituals

Rating: Mature

“Did you have another nightmare?”

The camp is quiet, tonight. The fire has long since been put out, and a cold wind winds about the tents, not quite strong enough to set them to rattling. Dog and Alistair snore, but they’re all accustomed enough to that to set their tents far enough away to take the edge off the volume, and not so far they won’t be handily equipped to handle any walking corpses.

The forest is still: there are no wolves in this region that have not been handled by poison, traps, or the Grey Warden herself. Earlier, there were owls, but they too have grown silent, flitting on wings soft as snowdust through the echoing chapel of the trees. Overhead, the sky is clear, and the stars wink with distant promises, fickle and unspeaking. Zevran stares at them for a long moment before he answers her.

“Crows don’t have nightmares.” His back aches.

Kallian plays with her knife, rolling the blade between her knuckles so that it flashes like a fish in the dark. She doesn’t say anything. The trees sigh under the moon. Zevran adjusts his jaw, wincing at the click as he attempts to unclench it. The stars glitter. Alistair snores.

“It was nothing.”

Kallian remains silent. Zevran shifts, rolling onto his side under the heavy oilskin of his sleeping bag to stare up at the elvhen woman on the log beside where their fire had been. Her features are impassive in the dark, half hidden by the shadow, like a sculpture not yet finished. What little is revealed by the moonlight suggests a masterpiece. Like this, Zevran cannot see her scar, only the blunt cut of her thick hair as it rests against the nape of her neck, and the elegant arc of her ears, heavy with iron and silver piercings.

“Do you never dream?” He asks, softly. Kallian shrugs, and keeps rolling her blade between her fingers. Zevran resists the urge to get up onto his knees, half struck by the image of praying to some old forgotten god. “Do you not have nightmares? Alistair complains of them. Often.”

The corner of Kallian’s lips that he can see in the moonlight tugs upward, and Zevran grins. She sighs, and tilts her head back, and her dark face is washed with light that rushes to fill the cranny of her scar like liquid silver. Her hair falls back from her head, and she shuts her eyes. She lets out a long, slow deep breath, and around her the sigh of the forest answers. Zevran bites his tongue.

Eventually, Kallian says, “I have nightmares, often.” She opens her eyes then, and looks down at Zevran, and in the dark her gaze is black and endless. “Not as often as you.”

Zevran shrugs, a little stiffly, and breathes a soft laugh. “It is a habit that I have struggled to break. Though many have tried to break it for me.”

Kallian’s impassive expression flickers a little at that, like a candle in a gale, darkening. The knife stops moving in her hand. Zevran hurries on, “not that it was not warranted. I am told that when the Crows first bought me, my screams were louder than all the tomcats in Antiva City. You haven’t been, so you might not realise what an achievement that is in itself, but -”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kallian’s question is as quick and efficient as her blade. Zevran stops, the breath falling out of him. She doesn’t meet his eyes, just looks back down at her lap and the flash of the knife she’s playing with there. Zevran opens his mouth, fingers curling minutely in his bedroll - more of a suggestion of movement than anything easily perceptible to a human eye. Kallian’s gaze shifts, anyway. Zevran moves his hand.

“I - no. Not tonight, my dear warden.”

Kallian nods, once, and then shifts on the log, slipping her blade into her belt in a movement too fast for Zevran to follow, and pats the rough bark beside her. “Join me?”

When Zevran doesn’t move she adds, swallowing, “I could use the company.” Zevran cannot see her mouth in the dark, but the scar on her cheek twists. He stands, and pulls on his smalls, pants and boots. By the time he’s done, Kallian has pulled a flask of what smells like potato vodka from somewhere in her pack.

She passes the leather-bound bottle to him silently, and Zevran takes a long, burning drink of the stuff and wrinkles his nose. “You Fereldans know nothing about decent liquor.”

Kallian giggles, ducking her head as she does so and lifting a hand to her mouth. When she meets Zevran’s eyes, her smile falls a little, and she reaches up to take the bottle back, fingertips trailing over his knuckles. She drinks for a long moment, throat working as she breathes through her nose, eyes squeezed shut against the sting. Then she lowers the bottle, and screws it shut, dropping it back into her pack. She lifts a hand, and gestures up at the clouds of light and dust above them, glancing at Zevran.

“Tell me again about the constellations. What do you call them in Antiva?”

Zevran pulls on a smile like a new pair of shoes. “Well, there’s the Tripping Whore, and of course the Ridiculously Handsome Elf. Not to mention the Lonely Assassin, though that story is not for the faint of heart.”

Kallian laughs, and rests her head gently on his shoulder. Zevran doesn’t move, but when he glances down she is already looking up at him, brown eyes silver in the moonlight. “Start with that one.” From this angle, the scar that rips down the centre of her cheek looks like nothing so much as tear tracks, tattooed into her skin.

Zevran nods, and readjusts his smile. “As you wish.” It takes another heartbeat for him to turn away from her, and look back up at the sky. “Once upon a time, not so very long ago, in the beautiful Antiva city, there lived the son of a whore.”

#dao #zevwarden #zevran arainai #warden tabris #midnightprelude #dadwc #my fic #my fic list

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frogs-spawn · 3 years

Text

it’s true lads, i have actually written something

(this was a prologue of a long canon fic that i’m writing/on hiatus on (oops) but i was thinking of changing the pov of it, so this doesn’t fit in it anymore) i may end up finishing the canon one, but it is long, so it probably won’t see the light of day, but we’ll see

anyway, here’s the ao3 link if you would like to read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31116254

a tragic twist of fate:

summary: the lupin family are enjoying a quiet evening, when an unwelcome visitor shows up, changing all of their lives forever.

word count: 1.6k

The sun was setting, casting a burning haze across the sea, and subsequently over the unsuspecting cul-de-sac in the Gower. The pebble-dashed bungalows that hugged the road were quaint and uniform, with a meagre patch of grass out the front that barely constituted as a garden. All things considered; it was a very normal street. There were the Jones', with their tiny Yorkshire terrier, which was small in size but easily compensated with its tremendous bark. The Thomas', who were always out the front regardless of the weather, observing the street's comings and goings. The Liu's, whose windows were constantly filled with an assortment of different lights, illuminating the street, making it feel like Christmas every day. Opposite them, were the Lupin's. There was Lyall, who has a mysterious job that no one is quite able to figure out exactly what it entails; his wife, Hope, who made sure that the whole street was well and truly fed; finally, their 5-year-old son, Remus, who's usually found playing out on the empty street.

Remus, as expected, was having a game of tag with Julia from across the road when his mother called out from the front door. She had thick blonde hair, slightly greying at the crown of her head, which was tied up into a loose bun, the fly-always whipping the side of her face, which was covered slightly with gravy.

"Remus, it's time to come in now. Your father has just gotten home, and dinner's almost ready."

"But Mammy! I'm not even tired," Remus pleaded, shouting back, a little breathless. "Can we have a few more minutes? Please?"

"It's okay, Mrs Lupin." Julia panted, brushing her dark fringe from out of her eyes, it was a miracle she could even see. She was a few years older than Remus but was still somehow shorter than the boy (who was only slightly tall for his age). "I think my parents want me back soon anyway." She turned to Remus and smiled, "We're going to go out and play again tomorrow, aren’t we Re?”

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" Remus chirped back, with some newfound energy. He then proceeded to hurtle up the driveway and stumble through the front door.

“Not even going to give your old mammy a cwtch?” Hope laughed, following her son through the door, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He clambered onto his chair at the kitchen table and watched eagerly as his mother took a roast lamb out of the oven and began to dish it out on to mismatched plates. There were roast potatoes, which were crispy on the outside, but still fluffy and buttery on the inside, peas, carrots, and parsnips - that were roasted to perfection, and it was all smothered with thick gravy that was laden with salt and had the potential to clog up your arteries – but if it’s bad for you then that meant it would probably delicious. Remus’ mouth was practically watering.

"Now, as you've been running around all afternoon, I'll give you the extra roastie, how about that?" Hope smiled down at Remus, scooping a roast potato onto the plate.

Lyall stooped into the kitchen at that moment, placing his tattered briefcase down onto the splintered wooden counter and bent over to kiss his wife on the head. He was tall and lanky with brown curly hair that was just starting to thin. He wore deep navy robes over the top of a well-fitted suit, looking as if he had just walked out of a very important meeting. He could have been a very intimidating man if it weren't for the way his eyes lit up and his mouth formed a crooked grin when he looked adoringly across his small family, with an immense sense of pride.

"This looks wonderful, darling. What did I ever do to deserve you?" he laughed as went over to his son and ruffled his hair. "According to Mrs Thomas, you've been charging up and down the road all day! No wonder you look knackered." He fell into the chair next to him, as Hope brought the dinner over.

The family ate with easy conversation. Hope explained how she had heard from Mrs Thomas that Mrs Jones was apparently putting empty wine bottles into her recycling bin and Lyall explained his new case at work, but it seemed boring, so Remus didn't pay it much attention. He wolfed his food down so quickly, barely stopping for a breath, his poor mother thought he might end up with indigestion.

"Stay in your own lane, Lyall, that's what they said," Lyall explained in between mouthfuls, gesturing at no one in particular with his fork. "They won't believe me though, and that Greyback has been released again, the man makes my skin crawl." He used air quotes when describing him and huffed, as he took another bite out of his roast. "It's madness, I told them that. Did they listen? No. Cases of lycanthropy are going up and it's because of creatures like them. String 'em all up for all I care. Bloody werewolves.”

"Not at the table Lyall," Hope piped in, sensing that her husband was about to go on another one of his world-renowned rants. "I understand it's a pain, especially if no one listens to you at work, but let's keep dinner time a happy affair, don't you think?"

"Yeah, no, sorry love" he gave her a sweet smile, which she returned. "Anyway. Did you have you had fun today, Re?"

The boy looked up and nodded quickly. "Yeah, me and Julia played lots of games. We had a race to see who was faster. And I won!" he exclaimed, talking at the speed of a hundred miles per hour, he spread his arms for dramatic effect and sat up higher in his chair. "She said I was cheating, but I wasn't, I promise!"

"No, of course, you weren't." Lyall laughed and looked down at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world.

After dinner, the family were positioned around the small-rickety fire pit that was positioned in the corner of the patio, made up of broken slabs of concrete with weeds emerging like great vines through the gaps. The fire crackled and spat, specks of charred wood and the burning flame releasing swirling smoke into the atmosphere. They sat on wobbly wooden chairs, that they had gotten from the charity shop, which were starting to rot and covered in splinters. However, Hope had made some colourful and slightly garish cushions, so it was incredibly comfortable, despite the small risk of the chairs collapsing from underneath them. Hope was sat with a pair of knitting needles in hand, focusing on the burgundy jumper that Remus would undoubtedly get for Christmas in a couple of months time. Remus sat opposite and was looking eagerly at his father, who was making the little old wooden figurines of soldiers that Hope collected do an Irish jig across the uneven stone.

Then, there was a rustling in the undergrowth at the far end of the garden. The birds that had nested and settled in for the evening took flight, flying off into the rising moon, bright and beautiful.

"What on earth could that be?" Hope wondered out loud, staring out into the distance, squinting her eyes.

'I'll go check it out.” Lyall chuckled as he pushed himself out of the chair. "Probably just a fox, I shall go shoo it away."

He wandered to the end of the garden, managing to avoid the snail hotel Remus had built a year ago. He lit up his wand so that he could see at least three steps ahead of himself.

It was a surprise that it remained standing, despite the howling gales and torrential rain it had to endure, it stayed. For as long as he could remember, Remus looked after the snails in the hotel, gave them any leftover lettuce. They were his favourite magical creatures. It fascinated him, the way they could stick to the walls and go upside down, the only way that was possible, Remus decided, was magic. Lyall didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Ah, Lyall Lupin. Just the man I wanted to see." An unfamiliar voice snarled. The voice was deep and ragged as if it had been strained from screaming too loud "Fancy seeing you here."

“Fenrir.” Lyall cut back, voice curt but contained a small tremble. "Leave me and my family alone and take your unpleasant business somewhere else." He straightened his jacket and stood rigidly, making himself taller. But the figure, Fenrir, stood a head above him, despite his hunched posture.

"I don't think that would be necessary." He countered, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "How is your family? I'd love to meet them." He shoved Lyall out of the way, causing him to lose balance and he stumbled into the hedge.

“Hope! Remus! Get into the house and lock the door!” Lyall shouted, desperately, unable to keep up with Greyback, who was striding across the garden.

Hope quickly grabbed her things and ran, pushing open the back door with a creak.

“Remus, come on lamb, into the house.” Hope coaxed from the door, trying to sound as calm as possible.

But Remus stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving, fixed and waiting, staring into the monster before him.

Fenrir Greyback was a giant of a man, towering easily over 6 feet tall. He was unkempt and greasy, covered in black matted hair. His deceitful yellowing eyes emitting nothing venom. Remus scrambled off of the chair and edged slowly towards his mother. It was too late.

Their eyes locked. A deal had been struck.

Under the silver moon, Greyback's manic grin turned pointed and wider. Bones cracked, twisted, and popped. Hair became thicker, wired, and coarse. Tortured hands and feet transformed into gnarly claws. His previously crooked nose became a leathery, wet, snout.

Barring his teeth, Fenrir Greyback took a couple of paces forward, crushing the hotel under a monstrous paw, towards a terrified Remus Lupin.

And pounced.

#remus lupin #hope lupin #lyall lupin #fenrir greyback #young remus lupin #marauders era #marauders fic #hp fic #cait has actually written something #(don't worry i'm as surprised as you are)#sorry this is quite sad

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timeforelfnonsense · 3 years

Text

Looking to Make Friends

Dafni x Astarion || T || Ao3 || Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series

Some pre relationship fun before any feelings were caught. Astarion has a pretty good WIS score and with his background, I think he'd be quite good at reading other people. It's interesting to contrast that with Dafni, who is also very perspective but in a very different way. (and they were narrative foils)

Astarion padded along softly behind Dafni, bow drawn and at the ready. He’d offered to help her catch dinner for the party. To be perfectly honest he wasn’t much for hunting. Not with a bow anyway. In truth, he’d followed her out here to pick her brain. He wanted to get the measure of each of his newfound associates and the peculiar cleric seemed the best place to start. She was far and away the most open of the bunch. The rest of their number all carried an air of privacy about them. Dafni, in contrast, was completely transparent or at least presented herself to be. She could also serve as a bridge to gaining the trust of the more discerning among them. She’d already created a respectable rapport with Gale and the pair they’d picked up in the grove, Wyll, and Criella. She’d gone out of her way to offer hospitality and kindness to each person in the party, even those who seemed less than interested in playing nice.

You do seem the type. Inquisitive. Looking for connection… It’s every man for himself and you are looking to make friends.

The corner his Astarion’s lip turned up. Shadowheart was canny. That much was clear. She was, however, too short-sided to see the benefits of having someone of that sort on her side. Dafni wanted friends and he needed to secure an ally- It was an ideal fit. He’d noticed the way she blushed at his teasing. How eager she was to keep his company. She almost certainly found him attractive. That made things a bit easier at least.

“Can I confess something to you?” He inquired, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear, “I asked to tag along because I wanted to spend time with you.” Dafni’s cheeks turned cherry red as he traced the blade of her ear. A coy smile forming across his lips. “Aw, I hope I haven’t embarrassed you. I couldn’t help but overhear the way Shadowheart rebuffed you this afternoon. It’s her loss really if she can’t see what an intriguing woman you are.”

“I-Thank you, Astarion.” She stammered, tracing a small circle in the dirt with the toe of her boot, “What did you want to know?”

“Tell me about your life before all of this?” He asked, gesturing to his temple.

“In the city or before that?” She asked, tilting her head thoughtfully, “I can think of several ways to answer that question.”

Astarion mulled his response over for a moment. He was curious about her life in the city. Dafni was a creature of the wild through and through. She seemed very much at home among the plants and creatures of the forest. It was hard to picture her strolling about the lower city. But, he’d observed her to be the sentimental sort. An inquiry into her more distant past would yield far more.

“Tell me about where you grew up?”

He heard her heart give a worrying lurch. Her honey-brown eyes falling to the faded leather of her shoes as the flush that covered her cheeks grew even deeper. That was not the reaction he had been expecting from her. Was she embarrassed? No. Nervous. Her arms crossed over her chest as she let out a rush of air from barely parted lips.

“Umm- Well, as you might have overheard Criella saying, I’m from the Feywilds originally. I should have told you the truth when you asked about my being from the city. I don’t like lying! Even by omission! I just wanted you to trust me...”

Astarion knew a thing or two about conceding one’s nature. He had to stifle the chuckle building in his chest. It would seem he and lovely little Daffodil had something in common.

Her reaction had been rather dear. But, the logic did follow. The creatures of Faerie had a certain...Reputation. View by the common folk as at best, fickle, whimsical beings, ruled by emotion and a strange sense of decorum. And at worst as wicked, Unseelie tricksters or hags looking to strike duplicitous bargains.

She wants to be liked, He thought, Her reputation is important to her.

“Think nothing of it!” He soothed with a wave of his hand, “We are all entitled to our little secrets. I’d still like to hear more if you’d be kind enough to indulge me?”

“Of course!” The tension in her shoulders loosened and she continued, “I’m actually quite proud of my heritage, despite my omission. Of all of the Protectors' children, the eladrin of the Faerie are the most like the first elves that sprung from his blood. The plane of Faerie is magnificent. As close a place to Arvandor, there is. It teems with the most beautiful plants and colorful creatures in all of creation. It is a place of enchantment and wonder, both deadly and delightful. Many creatures who stumble into a crossing by mistake lose their wits to its irresistible splendor but my people, we prosper where others wither.”

He took note of the way her back straightened when she spoke. Her posture took on an elegance he hadn’t seen in her before. He couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips. For all her charity and warmth she still held a small taste of that classic elven haughtiness. Interesting indeed.

Even more interesting still was the specific pride she took in her ability to survive what overs could not. He was not easily impressed but spirited Dafni had made quite the impression on him. She was tenacious and spirited. She would not surrender herself to their grim fate.

Another similarity.

He thought back to their first night in camp, to her girlish snickering at his unease about sleeping outdoors. She had called ‘N'Tel'Que'Tethira’, a city elf.

But, no sooner than the words left her did a modified expression fall across her pretty round face. Her next sentence had been a string of apologies and assurance she felt no superiority to her city-dwelling cousins.

Astarion had gathered the fondness she felt for the elves was not limited to her own people but rather all varieties of elves. He’d overhead her with Gale, insisting she was no scholar yet there seemed to be no question of elven lore or history she could not summon at the drop of a pin. He’d not given much thought to his own elveness in quite some time. On the list of things, Astarion was, elf did not fall very high on the ranking of importance. Yet Dafni, from the moment she set eyes on him, saw kin and ally. He’d even seen her extend this esteem to Shadowheart.

Pride in her culture and people. He’d found another piece of her puzzle. A bit obvious but important nonetheless.

“I was born in the Faerie reflection of the Moonshaes, on the Isle of Gwynneth.” Dafni continued, “In a village called PeleiraI. It was an oasis created by the primal elves who first came to the feywilds after being cast out by Corellon.”

Astarion nodded along as she spoke. He recalled the images that had flashed through his mind upon their first meeting. Tucked away in a forest of mythical beauty, her ‘village’ had been a far cry from the thatched huts and dirt floors the word brought to mind. He’d seen spires and structures of flawless marble reflecting a breathtaking, sunset of burnt orange and vivid violet. The ethereal structures scattered among the woodland didn’t detract from the wild nature of the glen but enhanced it. Appearing as if they had been grown from the earth just the same as the imposing trees that sheltered them.

“I saw the fleeting image of a settlement when our minds touched. It looked like something out of a fairytale. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He affected his voice, coloring it with wistfulness and awe, “I can only imagine the adventures you got up to there.”

“I did a lot of nothing most days.” She snorted, “Read. Practice medicine or magic. Explore the forest. Pester my older sisters. Maybe a hunt with visiting Seelie knights if I was lucky. I was never really allowed out without my sisters or some sort of escort.” Dafni scoffed the heel of her boot hitting the tree behind her with a soft, repetitive thump. “My mother, Thesmia is our clan’s leader. She’s a well-respected wizard and historian of a sort. I think she knew I was curious about what was on the other side of the mirror so to speak. Gwyneth is littered with fey crossings and she didn’t want me wandering off to the material all alone.”

She was the sheltered daughter of a noble (or close to it)? Right within his bailiwick! Her story wasn’t an unfamiliar one. Many of his marks in the city had been young lords and ladies smothered by the expectation and duty. All itching for the taste of freedom they were certain they’d find in Astarion’s honeyed words and dark charms.

This revelation did not yield new information so much as clarify an impression he already had. He’d seen more than her childhood home that day on the beach. The worried face of an otherworldly elven woman and bone aching wanderlust still burned through him when he played the memories over in his head.

“Is that why you left to live with the wood elves?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, “To see this side of the mirror?”

“You remembered?” The flush returned to her cheeks as she fidgeted with the string of her bow.

Astarion smiled his most beguiling smile, “I told you I thought you were intriguing, did I not?”

“I suppose you did!” She hummed, “Well to answer your question, yes. In apart anyways-'' She shrugged squeezing her biceps, “I wanted to explore, I was never going to know myself in Thesmia’s shadow. She was very...resistant to the idea. She’d seen how cruel people could be. That was part of why she made a home for us in PeleiraI. If she had it her way I would have spent the rest of my days in tucked away safe in her tower.” Dafni paused for a beat, her hands anxiously toying with the edge of her sleeve, “Please don’t misunderstand me. I love my mother dearly. She can just be a bit…”

“Overbearing?” He suggested.

“Yes.” Dafni giggled, releasing the worried fabric from her fingertips, “I know she wanted what was best for me. We just didn’t agree on what that was. I wanted to live my life and she wanted me to live hers.”

“I can sympathize to an extent.” He said, his mouth turning down into a scowl.

“You had a loving but smothering ancient being as a mother?” She tittered, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.

“No.” His tone came out a bit sharper than he’d intended. He ran his hand through his hair composing himself before he continued, “But, I understand the feeling that your life isn’t really your own.”

It was a risk to offer such information up. One he maybe shouldn’t have taken but, something about her vulnerability made him feel a little less guarded. A skill that could prove dangerous. At least his slip up hadn’t been for not. Her heart had slowed to a steady thrum. The jittery shuffling of her feet had stopped.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dafni responded, placing a hesitant hand on his arm. He had expected her to pry. She was painfully curious and astonishingly open with her own feelings. Yet, she seemed to sense pressing the matter would upset him. Instead, she moved on. Her voice coming out small and far away, “I think she wanted me to be more like her. Refined. Intelligent. Graceful.” She sighed pressing her back to the mossy tree trunk, “Sometimes I worry I might have been a bit of a disappointment.”

Ah-

There it was. The piece he’d been hoping to find. She wanted reassurance. Validation. To be valued and appreciated by her own merits.

“I don’t know your mother or her mind but, for what it’s worth, I think you are quite remarkable.”

“Really?” Her voice quivered as she looked up at him with sparkling doe eyes.

“If not for the tadpole’s intervention you may well have, how did you put it, cut my smug head right off my shoulders?” He snickered toying absentmindedly with the pommel of his dagger, “Or made a respectable attempt at any rate. I’m not often bested by my quarries.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad I didn’t.” Dafni leaned in close, the sweet scent of her dizzying his senses. Her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, “Your head is far too lovely to be parted from your shoulders.”

“Why, Daffodil! I’m flattered!” He stated a pleased grin plastered across his face, “Not surprised but, flattered. You did strike me as a woman of taste.”

“Are you always this cocky?” She chided in a teasing tone.

“Probably.”

“Hmm. Why am I not surprised” Dafni had tried to sound vexed but the edges of her voice teemed with amusement. Her big, topaz eyes gleaming with joviality, “Fair is fair. Tell me about your life before the tadpoles?”

He felt a slight unease creep into his chest in response to her innocent inquiry. He’d played fast and loose with the truth countless times with his marks but Dafni was different. She was observant, always picking up on the little subtleties of people's deminers. He would do better to stick to omissions rather than out and out mistruths. He brought his hand to the back of his neck giving the tender mussels a gentle rub.

“Oh, what is there to tell.” He put on a dispassionate expression. Careful to sound cool and nonchalant. “I was a magistrate- it’s all rather tedious.”

“Really? I can’t picture you as a bureaucrat.”

“And why not?” He gasped clutching his hand over his chest.

“Well for starters, you despise rules even more than I do. You like to stir up trouble. And your sense of morality- How do I put this, seems a bit...crooked? No offense.” She explained, indicating her points on the tips of her fingers.

“Oh, none taken!” Astarion gave her a peal of hearty laughter, shaking his head, “Daffodil, I hate to be the one to tell you there is a great deal of dubious morality in government.”

Her expression soured, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly as she stuck it out, “Well, I still can’t picture it. You are far too much fun for such a stuffy job.”

“People have many sides, dear.” He shrugged glancing over at her with a playful look, “But thank you.”

#Dafni of Gwynneth #astarion #elf writes #bg3 fic

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junie-bugg · 4 years

Text

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M

(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))

Word Count: 3125

Chapter Two

Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then.

If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around.

“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen.

When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there. The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing.

This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house.

Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl.

“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast.

“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.”

Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy.

Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea.

We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter.

There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball.

I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed.

Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter.

“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself.

“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.

I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile.

“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk.

With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get.

I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back?

Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up.

It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze.

Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live.

At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim.

We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up.

I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare.

Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked.

With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes.

I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh.

“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me.

“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me.

Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.

I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life.

As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since.

The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back.

I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular.

“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.

“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name.

His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me.

“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then.

He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.”

He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again.

“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.”

“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.”

I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square.

“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home.

“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”

“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!”

Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.

He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his.

#thg #The Hunger Games #thg fanfic #everlark #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #everlark fluff #jane austen au #pride and predujice #regency #regency au #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #finnick odair

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dragonfire2lm · 3 years

Text

Rubies and Sapphires: The Ruby Heart

Chapter 1: Fox Tails

The ornate white castle in the center of the bustling village was like a beacon to her as she walked through the front gate and flashed her identification to the armoured guards standing out front.

She flicked her hair, long orange tresses tied back in a loose ponytail via a blue ribbon and looked up the clocktower within sight of the town square, adjusting her spectacles to counter the harsh glare of the midday sun.

A breeze fluttered her long white robe as she strolled down the bricked road towards the middle of town. The buildings were as white and pristine as the castle, with shopfronts that had colourful signs, houses with beautiful and intricate stained-glass windows caught the eye, and flowers of every kind and colour imaginable growing in neat little flowerbeds lining the street.

As she grew closer to the center of town, the noise of the open market grew in volume, drowning the rhythmic beat of her footsteps, and a prelude to the work that lay ahead of her. Not that she minded of course, as much as the bright sunlight, colourful garments and noise was a welcome sight after spending so long on the road, it was already an annoyance to the normally reclusive woman.

She could already feel a headache rapidly taking a hold of her right temple as she ducked into the nearest tavern.

The building, lit by orbs of mage light that floated near the ceiling, all dark wood and invitingly quiet, was a welcome respite. There was a bar at the far end of the room. Behind it lay a staircase that led to the upper floor of the building.

She took a seat at one of the empty tables dotted around the room and pulled out a piece of parchment from her robes. It was a flyer advertising the ruler of this region would open sections of his home to the public to host a ball.

She smirked.

She knew full well the ruler in question, Lord Galeforce, had been having trouble with an ancient order of mages that stole magical artefacts, and this ball was his attempt to catch them red-handed by having the Star Sapphire and Radiant Ruby on display for the event, two of the realms most valued magical jewels.

She stowed the flyer away and called a barmaid over to order some roast beast. As she waited, she heard a couple of people take the empty table behind her.

"Terrence is gettin’ ballsy, gunnin’ after Gale.” One man said gruffly, in a Terralian accent.

His partner sighed, replying wearily. “I’ve tried talking to him, he wants those jewels even if it kills us.”

The gruff man snorted “Yeah, us, not him… You should jus’ let me put an arrow in his head Reg.”

“Absolutely not!” Reg said, a little too loudly.

��All I’m sayin’ is it’ll be nice an’ quick, no one will miss him.”

“And who will lead the clan?”

“You could.”

“Me?” Reg squeaked. “Don’t be ridiculous Wright…”

“You got the brains for it.”

“And nothing else.” Reg replied sourly. “I’m not strong like Terrence is, the moment I try to take control I’ll be thrown out of the fortress.”

Wright hummed. “Alrigh’ then, you be the King, I’ll be yer Champion.”

“Wright… I appreciate the sentiment, but now isn’t the best time, nor place to discuss this.” Reg sighed.

“Fair point,” Wright conceded, and the conversation changed topic. “Looking forward to seeing the ruby tonight?”

“Of course, it has been quite some time since I last laid eyes on it.”

Her eavesdropping was interrupted by the arrival of her food. The sight of freshly cooked meat made her mouth water as she tore into her meal.

She paused as the sound of her robes shuffling. With a calm breath and her fork sticking out of her mouth, she forced her tail, concealed beneath her clothing, to stop moving.

The two men behind her continued a far more mundane conversation as she ate, ordering drinks for themselves, and by the time she had scarfed down the last shreds of meat, half an hour later, they had paid their tab and left.

I’d better be careful tonight, don’t want to step on their toes. She thought as she asked for directions to nearest inn.

Hours later and she was walking into the lavish ballroom, a long flowing blue robe draped across her form, and wearing white slippers that muffled the sound of her footsteps against the polished floor. Her true self concealed under a mountain of wards tightly coiled around her body, unseen to the untrained eye of the average person.

The room was massive, with the same white walls as the rest of the castle, long wooden tables laden with food were placed at the edges of the room as a live orchestra played music quietly on a raised dais near the back of the room.

In the middle of the ballroom, held in a glass display cases, were a pair of jewels. She walked over to them, mindful of the soldiers in dress uniform that stood guard on either side.

Resting on a velvet cushion was a ruby as red as blood. It gave off its own light, pulsing crimson in a steady rhythm. And while that glow had initially got her attention, it was what lay beside it that truly drew her eye.

The four-point sapphire, flecked with white dots, looks as if the night sky had been taken and compressed into a jewel. She felt as if she could stare at it forever, that it held the secrets of the universe.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” A voice asked.

She startled, snapping around on her heel to see a man in his late twenties with a curled brown moustache and dressed in an elegant black suit and red bowtie.

His red eyes twinkled in amusement as she righted herself. “I didn’t mean to give you a scare, I was merely commenting on the rare sight his Lordship has graced us with this night.”

She recognized the voice, one of the men from the bar. She shrugged. “It’s fine, happens enough as it is with a bung eye an’ all.” She said, gesturing at her left eye, unfocused, and half closed.

“Terralian?” he asked, and she nodded. “A bit far from home, aren’t you?”

“I do a lot of travelling,” She answered, turned to face him, and paused. “You know, not many people can pin down my accent, most folks I’ve met think Terralia is a myth…”

He chuckled. “As good as the academy’s are, world history isn’t a mandatory subject outside of the diplomacy courses,” he held out a gloved hand. “Reginald Copperbottom, Noble of the House of Crimson Scales.”

Now that was a title that gave her pause. “The Dragon Slayers?”

“The very same,” he confirmed. “And you?”

"Lucina Grey of the Elder Grove Alliance,” She said, the alias falling easily off her tongue as they shook hands. As an afterthought she added. “Illusion specialist.”

Reginald politely offered his arm, an invitation to take the discussion elsewhere. She however, breezed past him and motioned for him to follow as she led them over to an empty table out on the rather spacious balcony.

“Not one for polite conversation I take it?” he asked, once more amused by her antics.

She gave him a flat look, one that matched the tone of her voice as they sat down. “I don’t exactly ascribe to the notion I have to act a certain way just because others expect it of me. My respect should suffice, shouldn’t it?”

“Indeed, it should,” he agreed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. “Are you familiar with legends around those gems?”

“Aside from the fact the Star Sapphire is said to grant wishes, not really,” She admitted, leaning back in her chair. “Why, you know a few tales?”

“I’m well versed in the subject,” he answered proudly. “For example, the Radiant Ruby was said to have been the heart of one of the Dragon Princes of old, supposedly the Prince of Honor.”

“I know a fair bit about dragons,” she said. “If that ruby is a dragon heart, that means the dragon’s still out there.”

“Dragons don’t die,” she added, and Reginald nodded. “They hide until they can retrieve their heart. ‘Course, most never do, so they make do, and live their lives as best they can.”

Reginald’s eyebrow flew up into his hair. “It almost sounds like you’ve met some.”

“I travel,” She offered by way of explanation. “I’ve met a few, nice people.”

He smirked. “I daresay very few people are as accepting as you,” his smile became something sly. “Why don’t we cut to the chase, hm? Which jewel are you after? Cadmean.”

The silence offered by the balcony was suddenly deafening.

“Ah… Right, okay…” she said as he relished her floundering. “How?”

“Your eyes,” he answered coolly. “As slippery as you are Lady Cadmean, there is one trait that always matches your disguises, the blindness in your left eye. You cannot hide a deformity like that… I’m surprised the guards haven’t caught on.”

She stiffened, sitting rigid in her seat, as she waited to see what he would do and ready to flee.

Panic. Raw, jarring panic set her on alert. “You can see through my wards,” She said evenly, sounding far calmer than she felt. Resigned, she replied. “The Star Sapphire. I’m here for the sapphire.”

Some tension left the man’s shoulders, he leaned back in his seat, and rested his hands in his lap. “Good…”

He sounded relieved. Something wasn’t adding up, he clearly was here to cause trouble of some sort yet appeared to be concerned about the actions of a mere thief.

“Why?” she asked once the initial shock wore off. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Because I’m here for the ruby,” he explained. “And if I am to see the sunrise tomorrow, I need to get that ruby.”

A frown adorned her face. “Is someone threatenin’ you?”

“Ah, no no, nothing of the sort!” Reginald hastily denied, slowly wilting under her firm gaze. “…Yes, unfortunately.”

“My liege wants both jewels before the night is over, or else my friend and I are out on the streets... or dead, whichever happens first.” He explained.

“You got a plan?”

He blinked. “You want to help?”

“We’re after the same thing yeah? If your boss wants both, I can just find something else for my collection…” she trailed off at the stunned look of wonderment on his face. “What?”

He beamed. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I last met someone so… blasé, it’s frankly quite amazing.”

She shrugged. “If you say so.”

He cleared his throat. “Now then, here’s what I’ve managed to put together…”

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

Sometime later they returned to the ballroom, she took her position leaning up against the wall with the gemstones in full view. She watched Reginald walk over to man with a bushy orange moustache and green eyes, quietly converse with him for a moment, and gestured at her.

She gave the men a polite nod.

She moved away from the wall as the other two parted ways, and with a discrete signal from Reginald, it began.

Smoke bombs hidden on the ceiling, detonated, raining black, glittering smoke onto the guests. The familiar sound of people screaming and running in terror filled her ears as she expertly weaved through the crowd.

The din of panicked people was quickly drowned out by the thunderous noise of countless guards storming the room.

“Surround the gems! I want those Toppats caught!” a voice barked, Lord Galeforce, she assumed.

She made it to the glass case just as the smoke cleared. She pressed a fingertip on against the glass, a thin blade of magic materializing around the digit and cleanly slicing through the glass.

With one fluid motion, she had cut a hole in the case. Grabbing the two jewels, she froze as the clattering of guards stopped just behind her and the sharp ends of several spears were pressed into her back.

“Well, well, we were hoping for a Toppat, but to catch the infamous Cadmean Vixen instead? Looks like your luck just ran out.”

She smirked.

“Not this time.” She said calmly as she wreathed herself in magic, blinding the gathered soldiers in the flash of light it created, and using the confusion to head to the balcony.

Once outside, her form shifted, her body blurring, clothes disappeared into grey wisps of magic as a rather large fox stood where the woman had once been. She glanced back to see the guards scrambling to find her and leapt up onto the balcony railing.

With a leap she jumped up onto the windowsill below her and with practiced ease, scaled her way down the exterior of the castle. In minutes she was hiding in a bush, scanning the fleeing crowd that poured out of the Castle gate for any sign of her cohorts.

There.

She spotted them leaving, none the worse for wear, and she stuck to bushes, alleys, and the darkness of side streets as she tailed them to the rendezvous point outside of the town walls.

They stopped by a river, near a boat tied to a rock by the riverbank. She shifted back onto her human form and walked over to them. As soon as she did, she had the business end of a sword in her face. It was the man she had seen Reginald talking to earlier.

“You ‘ave them?” he asked.

She pulled the ruby and the sapphire out of her robe and held them out to him. Reginald sidled up to the other male, eyes locked onto the ruby.

“Finally… after all these years…” he murmured, picking up the ruby delicately as his companion grabbed the sapphire and prodded the woman with the tip of his blade.

“You’re coming with us.” He stated as Reginald got into the boat, the Radiant Ruby clasped tight in his gloved hands.

For her part, she shrugged and clambered into the small watercraft.

“Wright, show her some respect, she’s risked quite a lot by working with the likes of us.” Reginald stated, voice authoritative.

“I’ll show her some respect when we’re sure she won’t turn tail on us.” Wright scoffed as he joined them in the boat and cut the rope tying the vessel to shore. A blast of fire magic from Reginald burned the remains of the rope to ash and hid any trace of their getaway.

She remained unfazed despite the accusation; it wasn’t anything new in her line of work.

“So, now what?” she asked Reginald.

He grinned at her, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’ll introduce you to our leader, The Toppat King, and have you join our ranks. You have the talent for it.”

“Reg.” Wright warned.

“She could have taken the gems and ran off to who knows where, and yet she honored our agreement,” Reginald pointed out as they left the town behind them. “The Cadmean Vixen is wanted in three kingdoms for vigilantism, theft, and unlawful release of slaves.”

“S’not your call though, it’s up to the King.” Wright said and a shadow passed overhead.

“I’m aware,” Reginald replied and looked over at the woman. “If you’re not accepted, be ready to run.”

“Nothing new there then.” She commented as she looked at the massive red fortress that loomed overhead and the pair of ropes that had been thrown down for them.

She offered Reginald a small smile. “Thanks for trusting me though, been a while since I’ve had that luxury.”

“Of course, Er, what is your name?” he asked as they started climbing, Wright bringing up the rear.

“I don’t have one,” she replied and elaborated at his confusion. “I got kicked out of my pack, a Furhide with no pack is a Furhide with no name. Most people just call me Red.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Red, hopefully Terrence shares the sentiment.”

“Yeah.” She replied.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

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

Glossary

Terralia: Basically Australia, but magic

Furhide: Basically werebeasts (werewolves and the like)

#fanfic #henry stickmim collection #reginald copperbottom #fantasy AU #I decided to post my fanfiction on here just because

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songbird-of-the-rain · 4 years

Text

Tales from the Forgotten Era

Because I’m an absolute sucker for worldbuilding and storytelling, and drink my own kool-aid like some sort of sad heathen, I started writing nonsense tangentially related to my main RP character, Eru’a, and the history of his ancestors, largely focused upon his Great, Great, Great, so many generations back, grandfather - a miqo’te named Aelua, his right hand man, Kahja, and their adventures during the great miqo’te migration of the Fifth era.

Now I know what you’re thinking: But we don’t know anything about the fifth era, so how on earth are you going to write anything about it?

To that, I offer a hedonistic giggle, curl my fingers inward, and maniacally declare that in an age of lost information, the possibilities are endless, and it’s all in good fun anyway or something, so I really don’t think the fantastic staff at Square-Enix is going to mind if I indulge in a pocket adventure and extrapolate that into bad novella proportions.

Still, for the all of two people who accidentally opened my blog and landed on this page, I hope there’s some enjoyment to be had from my nonsense endeavors when they find their way here.

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The barren fields of the great ice plains stretched a thousand malms in each direction. No matter which way one were to look, the endless sea of blinding white stared back with a dreary emptiness. It was beautiful in a way, poetic, he thought as his feet crunched against the hardened snow. Would that it offered more of a view than buried trees and long forgotten memories of a world spoken of in fairy tales.

Kahja adjusted the collar of his thick coat, drawing it tighter about his neck. Even if he'd grown into a young man amidst the howling winds, the feeling of chill nipping against bare flesh never proved comfortable. In truth, he loathed the long walks he took in the open air. Like wisping water ripples, the wind wove throughout his hair and battered the woolen feline ears nestled upon his scalp. Snow clung to his body, right to the very tip of his long tail. He supposed it was a blessing that his people were gifted with such assets, for without them, he was certain he and his would have faced a similar fate to those forgotten souls at the start of what had come to be known as the Fifth Umbral Calamity.

The gods could be kind, even if they had seen fit to scorn the mortal realm and bury it beneath the frost.

With a flick of his lengthy tail against the ivory powder, Kahja began the trek up the hillside, patting his boot against the ground once, and then twice, to be certain the ground were stable. The heaviness of his breath pooled before his face like dense fog, leaving behind puffs of clouds the further he trekked.

"Aelua!", he called over the gentle breeze when he reached the top of the hill's curve. His ears perked forward and he waited, listening intently to the silence about him. When no response came, he cursed, spitting a heated drop of saliva upon the ground before lashing his tail from one side to the next.

"Gods damned manic.", he grumbled. "Can't simply stay put like he's asked to do. Watch the hunt. No. Always galivanting off like some---"

As Kahja turned to descend the hilltop and continue along his journey, his feet slipped upon a patch of loose ground. His feet fumbled with the powder, and, giving a yowl one could not hope to describe, he promptly slid along the edge of the hill until he tumbled feet over head from top to the very bottom. The mist of snow plumed up in a puff, twirling about the gentle breeze before it deigned to carry it on and into the endless empty.

"That's certainly one way to make your presence known.", a voice lilted within his ringing ears. Soft and gentle as it was, Kahja could not help but turn himself towards it in an attempt to lay eyes upon its bearer. Lyrical and crisp as it was, it carried with it a certain quality that somehow both soothed and boiled the blood within his very veins.

Not unlike the face it accompanied.

Standing before him was a miniscule young man, much like himself. Like all miqo'te, brilliant feline ears coated in fur pointed and perked towards him, and a tail so long it settled upon the ground sat before his face, tickling the tip of his nose with each strand of obsidian hair. Kahja shoved it away and blinked the snow from his eyes until his vision had grown clear enough to focus upon a pair of mismatched ones, azure as the blue glacier and black as the night herself.

"Aelua." Kahja breathed a weary sigh. Each of his hands pressed down against the ground, seeking out the solid points so that he might hope to place his weight upon them. "Stars grant me strength, have you any idea the trouble you've caused tonight? And now you show up here, as if---"

"I seem to recall hearing you calling for me, not the other way around." The young man, Aelua, smiled. Nimble fingers brushed a few strands of long hair from his face before he offered a hand to the fallen man before him, waiting patiently for it to be taken. Once it had been, he leaned back with all of his weight, straining to drag the other up and onto their feet. "As for the trouble, you'll accept my apologies, won't you?"

Kahja staggered two steps forward, until he were balanced. The ears upon his head levelled out, finding themselves lost amidst his own choppy hair. He narrowed his eyes at Aelua, then promptly proceeded to brush the loose bits of snow away from the dark fur and heavy cloth of his clothing. "Even if I accept them, Yahana might not, you know... We lost two bits of game to the beasties without a pair of eyes on the store and she's more red faced than the second moon."

Aelua's thin lips quirked into a grimace. He hummed a low note while brushing a bit more snow from Kahja's garments, staring listlessly at the air.

A long moment of silence passed between the two men, broken only by the whisper of the gale. It was not until the quiet became uncomfortable that Kahja spoke to shoo it on its way:

"Did it happen again?" He trilled a bit of air upon his lips and ran his hands throughout his choppy hair.

Aelua offered a small nod in turn, then tore his eyes away to look back over his shoulder. The ears upon his head followed suit, turning slowly before settling on a point in the far distance. With a shake of his head, he returned his gaze to Kahja and feigned a weary smile. "I heard it. I swear I did. If I hadn't, I'd not have left the game unattended. You know that, don't you?"

Kahja rolled his head back, pointing his nose towards the sky. His brown eyes closed, shrouding the world in comfortable darkness.

"You don't believe me."

Aelua's voice sang within his ears. His eyes promptly opened, returning to gloss over his companion and then the area about them. Without a word at first, he closed a bulky hand about Aelua's shoulder, urging him to walk forward and towards the trail of shallow footsteps he'd left behind upon his initial journey into the empty wastes.

"I don't know.", Kahja answered simply. "But you can't go wandering off like this. Not without saying anything."

"And if I said something, they'd not believe a word of it, you know that!"

Kahja shook his head, knocking away flecks of snow that clung to him with arrogant persistence. "Nevermind it, now. What's done is done, and I need to bring you back before the Sixth Umbral Calamity befalls us all." With a puff of air from his nose, he huffed and continued onward, occasionally shoving his companion as if to ensure the pace did not slow to a crawl. He was cold, after all, and the less time he needed to spend in the open breeze, the happier he knew he would be. Nevertheless, as their stride slowly began, he took a moment of pause to watch Aelua trudge forward. "Tell me about it tonight, would you? What you heard?"

A brightness sang within Aelua's eyes when he looked back towards the other. Thin lips curled into a wry smile and he nodded his head once, then twice, for good measure. "Home, then. And hopefully Yahana won't be too cross about the game."

#FFXIV #Final Fantasy #FFXIV RP #Final Fantasy XIV RP #Miqo'te #Miqo'teRP #Miqo'te RP #songbird-of-the-rain #Eru'a Rainsong #FFXIV Stories

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waypathfinder · 5 years

Text

Crimson Lane - Chapter 20 - Twilight

Beta’d by @kathknight and @ashtyntaytertot

Links

Tumblr Master Post

Archive of our Own (from the start)

Archive of our Own (chapter)

Fanfiction.net

Chapter Text

And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes in a hundred worlds in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you

—Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars

The grand old place had fallen into disrepair. Lawns infested with weeds, the pond had flooded and at least a dozen shutters had half-fallen off their hinges. Ben wiped his boots on the steps, trying to kick away a layer of mud. There used to be a welcome mat here, he knew this as it was his job to beat the dust and dirt from it every week, but now there was nothing but scuffed concrete, cracked with weeds, covered in muddy footprints.

He was responsible for it all, another failure, like notches on a belt, they wrapped around him, squeezing the air from his lungs some days, other times it held him together, an identity that gave him certainty.

Much had changed here, but the spirit of the place remained; elegant but austere in this place of nature with its white-washed walls, keeping watch over the cliffs that overlooking a wild sea.

A growl of thunder rolled from the horizon. Ben pulled his coat across his chest as a fresh slap of wind billowed his hair and slammed the shutters against the windows.

He hadn't knocked yet. He'd travelled over a hundred kilometres to get here but the space between himself and the door was like a step between worlds.

Leia's voice came from inside and he froze, the sound of it hit him in the heart. She could be gentle, away from the public spotlight, forgiving to a fault, unyielding in her opinion, ferocious in her defence.

And God, he had missed her.

Ben reached his hand towards the door, ready to knock, while his other hand buried deep in his pocket. The door opened.

A gust of wind rallied the trees behind him, and Ben's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to find something to say.

For a woman who was grander than life, Leia's stature had always betrayed her. She'd answered the door in her nightgown, a long white robe that reminded him of childhood days, her grey hair, rarely loose, tossed behind her shoulders.

She gasped, hand clasped over her mouth in shock.

Twelve years old again, shame coloured his face and he averted his gaze, slipping his free hand back into his pocket.

Why did she have to look at him like that? Brown eyes shining with tears, pale lips cracked with aged lines and parted in shock.

He shot a fleeting glance back at her, pulling his hands out of his pockets and balling them into fists, swallowing an overwhelming urge to vomit over her petunias.

She had changed too much, grown older. And, even more unnerving was the fact she was speechless.

He opened his mouth … hi, I've missed you, I'm sorry …

But instead.

"Senator Organa-Solo lost for words? That's a first."

Shit.

It was a jerk thing to say, but she was making him nervous.

"Ben," she whispered in awe and from the corner of his eye he saw her hand lift, as if she would caress his cheek.

"Yeah, well, I've —" He scrunched his face. He shouldn't have come back. He went to turn away but this time she stopped him, pressing her warm hand against his cheek and forcing him to face her.

One touch was all it took. He broke like a piece of clay crumbling in the hands of his maker.

"I messed up, mum." They were barely words, rather jumbled gasping breaths.

"Oh, my boy—" She pulled his head to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. "You came home."

Rey leant her forehead against the car window. The glass was bitingly cold and vibrated against her forehead. Finn had warned her the drive would be long, just over an hour, to a place she'd only ever known by name for its massive estates and ocean cliffs, Chandrila.

The world shifted, from grey hues of the city to clean-cut lines of suburbia, and onto large homes on acreages sitting atop velvet green hills.

Her eyes lazily opened and closed, giving in to the overwhelming fatigue. On the horizon, curtains of grey mist reached down to the ocean, blurring the line between sea and sky. Clouds and sunlight painting it from turquoise blue to navy grey.

She wound the window down and the icy wind whipped against her face.

Lost in a sensory shower of sea salt and ozone, her mind wandered. What had happened to Ben after she left?

She would have called him right after her talk with Maz, but if that number belonged to the First Order, or worse, Snoke, she wouldn't risk it.

What would she have said to him, anyway? He'd tried to explain the truth to her and now it was with some shame that she acknowledged a part of her would never have accepted what he had to say this morning. Not then. Not from him. The reality of knowing what really happened that night had broken her. It was like every bad thing in her life had led to that point, the memory that had fired and moulded her into who she was and what she believed.

He'd broken her apart and now her soul rebuilding itself on new foundations, her understanding of the world, skewed in a new light.

"Are you alright, peanut?"

"Yeah." She put the window up and hugged her arms with a gentle smile. "I'm good."

"I hope you don't mind being dragged out to this interview?"

"Are you kidding? I love seeing you in action."

A smile crept onto Finn's lips and he straightened in his seat. It was so easy to shift gears with Finn; for a moment in time, she could find the part of herself that was always happy, no matter what life threw at her.

It wasn't true. But everybody wore a mask, not just monsters.

"So… What's your status now anyway—you got a girlfriend?" She flashed a mischievous smile in his direction. "Boyfriend?"

"Oh my God. That was once!"

"I know."

"In college."

"I remember," she giggled.

"I was very drunk."

"You told me."

"And curious..."

"You don't need to defend yourself to me," she said, trying to placate him now he'd given her the rise she knew that was coming. "There's nothing wrong with being curious."

"Geez, Rey, I told you that in confidence."

"And I've never told a soul."

"I like girls," he said. "Like, a lot."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "I just thought, you know, Poe's a handsome guy and you work pretty closely together."

"Poe's married with kids, and his wife is a researcher at the paper!"

Rey nodded, pressing her lips together. The noise of the car dulled into a quiet roar as they came onto the smooth road leading to Chandrila.

Finn exhaled, as though he'd been holding his breath.

"Look, I know in the past I might have swung both ways…" He glared at Rey, daring her to say something, but she kept her mouth shut. "But I haven't met that someone yet. I thought I had but life just pans out differently than we think it will sometimes… "

He gave her a pointed look and returned to concentrating on the road ahead, leaving those unsaid words to fall into oblivion.

Rey stared at her hands. At some point, she had started wringing them together. There was nothing to say, they'd been here before and he knew, as well as she did, that sometimes you can love someone but still only ever see them as a friend.

And now, she'd felt what the other end of that spectrum was like, when you loved someone so much that the boundaries between the two of you blurred. Rapture, belonging … coming home after never having one…

"How about you?" Finn asked, back to his happy self again. "Got a boyfriend, a cute boyfriend?"

Rey's stomach dropped, and she stared straight ahead.

"Well?"

Cute boyfriend? No, Ben was hardly what she would call a cute boyfriend.

"It's complicated," she deadpanned.

"Isn't it always? What's he like?"

What was Ben like? He was darkness, and light, and shadow all mixed together. Intense and achingly expressive. Strong and vulnerable. Beautiful and terrifying. He wasn't any one thing, he was everything. How could she come close to describing such a man?

Rey cleared her throat. "Tall."

"He's tall?"

"Yep." She nodded, gluing her eyes on the dashboard.

"And … that's it?"

"Yep." Couldn't she just hide in a hole now? Anything was better than answering these questions.

"Wow," Finn said, nodding. "Wow." He turned to her, those wide friendly lips bubbling in a smile. "He sounds amazing, Rey."

She cracked, laughter breaking the tension. They only stopped when there was a loud bang beneath them and the car began to tilt with a recurring thump.

"Ah, crap!" Finn stuck his head out the window, trying to see the damage.

"What was that?"

"I dunno. But it's blown the tyre." He looked back again. "I don't have time for this."

"It's okay. I can change it for you. You got a spare?"

Finn sunk into the driver's seat, avoiding her gaze. "That was the spare."

"Oh."

The thumping sound slowed as the car pulled over to the side, crawling along the shoulder in the shadow of wind-tossed maple trees that let through tiny pinpricks of rain every time a gale blew.

"Tell me again, what did they teach in that military academy you went to?"

"How to kick butt, that's what! Care for me to show you?"

"Bring it on, soldier. I'll take you!" Rey laughed, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

They got out of the car, jostling and laughing until they were holding their sides and out of breath.

Meanwhile, the ash-coloured rain clouds had swarmed overhead, covering them with light rain and mist.

Rey wiped the light droplets from her forehead. "Seriously though, what are we going to do? You can't miss your interview."

Finn stared at the car, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Not much we can do. I'll call Poe and let him know what's happened. But first, I need to pee."

He wandered away from the road and into the bush.

Rey shivered, listening to the melodious rumble of thunder rolling overhead like a giant stone. The wind picked up, blowing a sleeting rush of rain across her cheeks. In the distance, she could hear another vehicle and when she looked up a pair of lights were coming at them from the end of the road.

She looked back at Finn. He hadn't even noticed the car. It was travelling far faster than the speed limit and as it approached, the warm yellow lights bounced off the slick grey road creating a line of light before it.

Rey bit her lip, calculating a risk. In a flash, she'd shoved her thumb in the air, walking backwards along the side of the road, eyes fixed on the oncoming car.

Tyres screeched on wet bitumen and she held her breath as the eighties-style silver car with butterfly doors came to a sharp stop beside her.

A Millennium Falcon. She beamed at it, as Finn ran up to meet her.

"Are you mad?" he hissed. "He could be a psycho, a murderer, a…"

Finn closed his mouth as the driver's side window came down with a whir.

Rey strolled up to it, ignoring the way Finn pawed at her hand to come back. "Thanks for stopping."

"You could have given me more warning," a male voice grated out the window.

"I wasn't sure you would have stopped," she said, catching sight of an overactive Newfoundland dog dashing around the back seat in a blur of hazelnut-coloured fur. "Aren't you a beautiful guy!"

The dog barked at her excitedly, trying to nuzzle past the front seat to lick her.

The driver got out, walking over to her with a slight bend in his back, straightening with each step.

"His name's Chewie, and don't be fooled, he'll rip your arms out of its sockets if you cross him."

"I wouldn't believe that for a minute."

Finn came up to meet them, wiping his hands on his pants.

"We blew a tyre back there," Rey said. "Can you help us out?"

"I don't think—" Finn began but even as he spoke the man flipped the front seat forward indicating for him to get in.

"I'll take you as far as the next petrol station. Where are you headed?"

"You probably won't even know it," Finn rushed. Rey noted the way he'd brushed his eyes over the car, lingering on the ripped leather seats and rubbish scattered on the floor. "It's just one of the houses around here…"

"Try me." Han was gruff and Rey suspected he'd also noticed the way Finn had looked at the car like she was a pile of junk. If only he knew. A Millennium Falcon was far more than outward appearances. It was the way she moved, the speed, the old-world devil-may-care character —

"Senator Organa-Solo. I've got an appointment with her."

Rey's mouth hung in shock. "You do?"

Finn nodded, buoyed by her reaction.

"Yeah. It's a pretty big deal."

"Well, big deal, jump on in. I'm on my way home, anyway."

Home?

Rey stared at the man, noticing the familiar long nose and narrow face. Time had worn away some of his good looks, but it didn't take much imagination to see the man that he once was. Han Solo, four-time winner of the Kessel Run, a notorious scoundrel—

Ben's dad.

"You're lucky I found you, the Senator doesn't like to be kept waiting. Get in back. We're not more than five minutes away."

Han stepped back, holding the door open for Rey as she scrambled in the front seat, no longer able to meet his eye.

Her hands shook as she secured the belt, heat rising in her cheeks.

"So, what's your story?"

"Mine?" she stammered. "I don't have a story."

"Right. What's your name then, kid?"

"Rey." She flicked her eyes up at him before pulling the door closed and trying not to gauge his reaction. "You know, with an 'e'."

He held his chin, nodding, and for a fleeting moment, Rey had the startling realisation that he'd seemed to recognise her name. But when Han got in the driver's chair, he just he revved the engine and said: "Rey? What kind of name is that?"

Rey had never seen such richness in her life. The estate and its grounds were breathtaking, even under the grey hue of the passing rain clouds. All around them, long verdant grass stretched out before them. Before the mansion was a pond, flooded from earlier downpours; even now raindrops tickled the surface of the water in tiny radiating waves. A worn fountain lay at its centre, dripping a steady stream of water like a leaking tap. They stood before the oak doors as Han wiped his muddy boots on the cement and ushered them inside.

The sound of Rey's heart competed with the roar of thunder as she stepped over the threshold into what must have been Ben's childhood home. Han showed them through a long narrow corridor lined with photo frames, while Chewie nuzzled into the back of her hand.

She felt a stab of pain as she spotted the familiar flop of black hair in the photos, each one of them sending an electric charge to her heart. With every step, she passed a story of Ben's life, as he transformed from a stocky, doe-eyed toddler with grazed knees to an awkward teenager who hadn't grown into his long arms and legs. The last photo was of Ben in his karate uniform, smiling proudly, his parents on either side of him sharing his enthusiasm.

That was the last photo they had of him. The rest of the hallway was empty, hospital-white in contrast, like life had stopped from that point.

By the time they reached the end of the hall, Rey noticed the older woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a regal expression standing in the lounge room. Rey's breath caught at the sight of her. Ben's mother. Yes, she could see the resemblance in her dark, intelligent eyes and the proud way she held herself. This was a woman who would never bow before anyone. She was magnificent. There was no other word that came to mind.

"You must be Finn. I'm so happy you got here safely. Poe called me about your car troubles." She turned to him. "It was lucky Han found you on his way back from town."

"Senator Organa-Solo, it's an honour."

"Call me Leia, please." She turned to Rey then, regarding her with an odd expression. "And you are...?"

"Rey." The word was blurted out, and she pushed her hand towards the Senator a little overzealously. Finn raised an eyebrow at her, but she dared not look at him. She already knew she was being awkward. "I'm here as a friend to Finn."

Leia reached her hand, wrapping it in her own, a smile spreading across lips and sparkling in her eyes. "Rey," she repeated. "I'm very happy to meet you."

The tight press of Leia's hands filled Rey with warmth and time slowed to a crawl. How lucky Ben was to have a mother. Did he even know what a blessing that was?

Rey blinked, pushing the thought of him away.

"Rey's helping me on the Snoke story, too."

"I see," Leia nodded. A small line spread across her brow as she indicated for them to sit.

Finn pulled out his notepad and phone, and the sky burst with loud clamouring rain, pelting against the glass.

For a moment, Leia's guarded expression faltered as she looked to Han, who was already staring out into the grounds, pacing like the scurrying raindrops making lines down the windows. He turned back to Leia, shaking his head, and she sat back in her chair, mask back on.

"So, Senator Organa-Solo—Leia, I wanted to ask you about your decision to return to politics after all these years?"

Leia cleared her throat, her voice was low and rusty, like she had spent a lifetime delivering speeches. "I hadn't planned on returning, but when I see our political system being flaunted and abused by the current government with their hands chained to the pockets of larger corporations, I couldn't stand by any longer. It has gone on long enough."

Leia looked up at Han, but he was not listening. Instead, he still paced by the window, growing more and more restless.

"It has been … difficult on my family," she said haltingly. "But they stand by my decision to run again…"

"Your family is happy with your decision?" Rey could have slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Finn peered at her with an expression as if to say what the hell?

"Yes, I believe so," Leia answered stiffly.

"All of them?" She couldn't stop herself, her words were like knee-jerk reactions.

Leia's face twitched. "My husband has always supported my political career."

"And your son?"

What the hell was possessing her to keep going?

"My son?"

Rey sighed. She'd dug this hole, she may as well keep going. "Doesn't taking up the helm of the Resistance put him in a position to be under more scrutiny, or worse, blackmailed?" She stumbled at her words. "'Them', I mean to say. Not 'him'."

Finn choked, poking her in the side with a sharp but subtle elbow jab.

"Excuse me?" Leia seemed incredulous at the line of questioning, her gaze searching for Han even more so, almost demanding him to look at her. But he wasn't there anymore and through the heavy lines of rain, Rey could make out his form heading out into the grounds.

Leia composed herself, not missing a beat. "I've always kept my son out of the media spotlight."

"But that hasn't stopped him from being a target though." The words rushed out of her again.

Rey's flushed with colour, astounded at how defensive she had gotten.

There was a beat and Leia stood then, smiling at them both. "Give me a minute, please."

She left the room, opening the French glass door panels and standing under a small alcove. Leia's outline glowed beneath a dull outside light, lines of rain provided a backdrop to her stoic figure, drowning out every other sound.

Eventually, Han emerged, running slightly, out of breath. He leant in close to her ear; they could have been shouting for all Rey could hear amidst the constant clamour of the rainstorm. Leia raised her chin, brows furrowed as she spoke to Han, and biting her lip when she listened. Rey leant forward, trying to imagine she could lip-read, and that's when Leia looked straight at her.

Rey turned away in a flash, only to be faced with a very angry-looking Finn.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Huh?" she asked, refusing to meet his eye.

"Why are you asking her about her son? Everyone knows she doesn't like to talk about him."

Rey shook her head, overcome with shame. The last thing she wanted was to mess this up for Finn … but, being here, before his parents, knowing what challenges Ben was facing alone right now. How could she not fight for him if no one else would?

"I'm sorry," she whispered back. "But don't you think it's worth asking?"

"No," Finn said through gritted teeth. "Not if it will cost us the whole interview. The only reason Leia agreed to do this was as a special favour to Poe."

Leia returned from outside. As she did a fresh zephyr of wind swept in through the sitting room. The cloud burst had passed now, leaving only a small drizzle of mist-like rain floating in the outside air once more.

Her mask was unreadable. She was seasoned at concealing her expressions, something her son had never learnt.

Nor Rey, obviously.

She attempted to apologise when Leia spoke up, interrupting them.

"Do you know my son?" she asked, the question to both of them, but Leia clearly directed the words at Rey.

"We met in town the other day," Finn replied.

"And you?" Rey's cheeks glowed at the way Leia stared her down, almost like she knew what they had done together in the privacy of her apartment.

"As Finn said," she mumbled. "Poe introduced us."

"He must have made quite an impression on you then."

Rey gaped, speechless for the first time.

"I—"

Fuck. She scrambled for words and every one of them failed her.

"I appreciate your concern with my family," Leia said. "But you won't find what you're looking for here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ..."

Oh, God. She had messed this up so much.

"Perhaps, you could take a walk about the grounds while Finn and I finish this. The rain has stopped now. Who knows, it might give you the answers you're looking for."

Was she really being kicked out? Rey's face felt hot with humiliation and guilt. Without saying another word, she got up and walked over to the double bay doors where Han waited, smiling.

"Don't be offended, she gets very defensive about Ben," he said, and then raising his voice again. "And she likes to order people about. It gives her something to do."

"I'll give you something to do, you scoundrel" Leia snapped at Han, but her expression was fresh, all mischievous joy. "Where should Rey go?"

Han and Leia's exchanged a look, and Rey could have sworn there was some kind of conspiracy brewing between them. Han opened the door, handing her a large golf umbrella.

"There's a small pond by the cliff face. It looks out over the ocean. You'll find it if you head north through the rose garden and cross the bridge over the brook," he said, adding, "You'll know it when you see it."

Rey nodded, glancing back at Finn one last time. He was now deep in conversation with Leia, scribbling notes on his pad without even noticing she was leaving.

She sighed, pushing open the umbrella and with a fleeting smile at Han, embraced her banishment.

Rey slipped off a pair of shoes and stepped out onto the wet grass. It was freeing to be outside, no longer in danger of saying or doing the wrong thing. Overhead, a breathy roar of wind thrashed through the canopies of silver eucalyptus trees. The daylight was fading into twilight, with the sun trapped between grey storm clouds and a grey sea.

She began walking, enjoying the way her toes sunk into the overgrown grass. The air was crisper and brighter now that the rain had passed. She stepped over a small bridge that passed an overflowing brook, and she cleaned her feet in the water, listening to the sounds of nature coming back to life after the downpour.

Seagulls called from the cliff face, frogs croaked by the pond and the wind continued to roar like distant rivers, the quiet backdrop to it all.

Rey let the sounds fill her senses, and it didn't take long until her thoughts turned inward, thinking back to the morning when she and Ben had made love. For one moment, she had been so blissfully, divinely happy.

Perhaps they could have that again.

Even after … everything.

She felt close to him here, walking through the grounds of his childhood. Longing for him to be here, telling her where he used to play as a boy, the secret hideaways and mystical forests that made up imaginings of youth.

In the dim light ahead there was a large pond that stretched out to the edge of the cliff, dotted with fading solar lights and white lilies. The young trees around the edge cast long slim shadows on the ground, shivering and swaying dark shapes upon the ground.

But one of those shadows moved against the others.

Rey squinted, trying to make it out … large, hands in pockets, hair wet and stuck to his long thoughtful face, his gaze fixed to the ground.

Rey pressed a hand over her heart. How long had he been out here in the rain? Did he even know she was here?

"Ben!" she cried out.

He froze, slowly turning to see her. His face was pale and shiny with rain. Even in the darkness, she could see how he shivered.

Ben hadn't moved, and nor had she. Then she felt a wave of tenderness wash over her and the stillness shattered. She ran, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him everywhere she could reach.

Chilled hands pressed into the small of her back, tucking her into his body.

"What are you doing here?" his voice croaked, barely audible. "I thought—"

"You saved me!" She pressed her cheek to his chest, holding him close as her breath came in halted sobs. "Thank you."

#crimson lane #reylo #reylo au #save ben solo #reylo fan fic #reylo fan fic rec #angst #angst with a happy ending #reylo angst

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kriscme · 5 years

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One Life To Live

“One Life to Live” is the title I’ve settled on for this fic (thanks Loueze). It’s only one chapter instead of my usual three, but it was trickier to do as it sets up what happens next - whatever that may be. Even I don’t know. As usual, could be subject to change later on if it suits the plot. When it’s finished it will be put on AO3. Thanks for reading. Chapter 20 Marcus Muir pulls a map from his pack, unfolds it, and lays it across the rock ledge. It’s a topographical map which shows elevation changes. He also has another that shows landscape features. And aerial photographs taken from a hovercraft as well. Not to mention some kind of handheld device that reminds me of a Holo. Only this doesn’t show pods but your location anywhere in Panem. Marcus uses it in conjunction with his maps. “Why did you need me when you have all this stuff?” I ask. I take a water bottle from the side pocket of my pack and take a big gulp. The weather is still chilly, but the climb to the top of the ridge has me sweating under my clothes. Marcus turns his extraordinary eyes to mine. They are a light brown, the colour of maple syrup, and almost the same golden brown of his hair. Paired with even features, a lithe athletic build, he’s not too bad on the eyes. A little like Finnick in appearance actually, if Finnick had a not-quite-as-good-looking older brother. “There’s no substitute for local knowledge,” he says as he refolds the map and tucks it back into his pack. “Take this place.” He sweeps his hand over the lush valley below. It’s a magnificent view and a familiar one. It’s where Gale and I used to meet. “A map only tells you that there’s a high elevation point and then a sharp drop in altitude. It takes someone who’s actually been here to know that it’s worth the climb to see it.” “Humph” I grunt in reply. “And why should it be so important that there’s a view worth seeing?” “For a look-out,” he says, his gaze now trained on the horizon. “This is perfect. We’ll have to put up a barrier, of course, for safety’s sake. We don’t want people too close to the edge and falling off.” He maps out a large square with his hands. “We could put a platform right here. And once that thicket of bushes is removed, there’ll be nothing to impede the view.” He’s right. The bushes are in the way. And the loss of them won’t take anything away from the natural beauty of the place. But they’re not just any bushes. Gale and I would nestle into a nook in the rocks between these bushes and the ledge, and talk, and eat, and plan our hunting strategy for the day. This is the place where we met on that last morning before the reaping to share a meal of bakery bread and a goat cheese, made by Prim. A few meters away is the large flat rock where Cressida filmed us. And it’s where I came to rest, that first time I could rouse myself to venture back into the woods after I was confined to 12. I let the last of Gale go that day, that day Peeta returned. It was a turning point, I now realize. To be free of the ties that had bound me to him. But it was for no purpose in the end. Peeta no longer cared.

“Imagine it, Katniss,” Marcus enthuses. “People using the forest as it should be. Out exercising and enjoying nature and learning about the natural world. That’s the way we conserve it. Not by putting fences around it and shutting everyone out. Or the way it is now with people doing whatever they like.” I say nothing but he doesn’t seem to expect a response. I think he’s used to my sullen silences by now. He hoists his pack onto his shoulders and that’s the signal for me to do the same. He likes to keep moving. It’s been a challenge for me to keep up, and I don’t consider myself a slouch when it comes to traversing through the woods. Ambivalent is too mild a word for how I feel about Marcus’s purpose here. He wants to establish national parks to conserve our natural heritage for prosperity, he says. He got the idea from an ancient book he discovered in the basement of the Capitol library where he worked. He had access to all the old books stored down there, many of them forbidden to the public. They had national parks before the dark days, it seems, and they were very successful. Most of the wilderness areas we have now were once national parks. The irony is that great care was taken to conserve these areas but the rest of the planet was left to go to pot. The changes in climatic conditions – rising sea levels, or something – led to civil strife, and then wars and then finally the Panem we know today. It’s not that I don’t see the value in it. I know what’s happened to the woods since the fences came down and people are free to enter as they please. Before the rebellion, you would have been whipped in the town square, or even hanged, if you were caught trespassing. Only a few of us were daring enough, or desperate enough, to risk it. But, because there were so few of us, what was taken from nature was very little and it quickly recovered. When I escorted Marcus into the woods for the first time, I saw through his eyes just how much damage has been done. People have lost the fear that once kept them out of the woods from either predators or the law. And they are no longer afraid of being put to death if they are caught in possession of a weapon. Forget bows and snares, firearms are used now and some species are less abundant as they used to be through over hunting. Trees, some of them centuries old, are indiscriminately chopped down for building material or firewood. And human footprints crisscross the terrain causing erosion and destruction to undergrowth. I saw rubbish left behind by picnickers, and the remains of a camp fire that was surely too big for safety. Yet, on the other hand, I don’t want a look-out built on my old meeting place either. Gale and I were the only ones who knew it was there, so well hidden it is, and now everyone will know about it. It dawns on me that there was a least one good thing about the pre-war days and that was having the woods virtually all to myself. We continue our walk along the ridge. Marcus makes a few notes as he goes, stopping occasionally to peer across the valley. I think he’s searching for more look-out sites. Eventually we descend into a saddle with another steep climb just ahead of us. It’s sheltered from the wind here and sunlight filters through the tall straight pines. A fallen tree lies invitingly a few meters away. I glance hopefully over at Marcus. My stomach is rumbling and I want to eat. Luckily, he seems to have the same idea because he props his pack against the log and pulls out a rumpled paper bag. “Ready for lunch?” he asks. I don’t have to be asked twice. I take a seat beside him on the log and get my food out too – ham sandwiches, a banana and a couple of cheese buns. The buns are from Peeta. For some reason, he’s started baking them for me instead of cookies, even though I can get cheese buns from the bakery. I think, maybe, that he has a memory of baking them for me, and he’s acting it out to see where it leads. Rather like with the snickerdoodles when he couldn’t remember the key ingredient. Going through the motions helped him to remember. I think now that is what was behind all the touching he used to do. It came out of all the hugging and affectionate gestures we were forced to do in public as the star-crossed lovers. His body remembered it even if he didn’t. And now his body remembers baking cheese buns for me. Cheese buns equals Katniss sort of thing. Much as I would like to, I don’t set any store by it. The action means little without the feelings behind it. “I know how you feel,” says Marcus. “Hmm?” I mumble through a mouthful of sandwich. “About your woods being turned into a national park. When you’ve had it to yourself for so long, it becomes like your home. You certainly don’t want strangers walking through it. And then there’s the peace and solitude. It’s just not the same when you have to share it. “ I look at him skeptically. How could anyone from the Capitol know how I feel? All the Capitolites I knew were as divorced from nature as you could possibly get. Artifice is what they valued. Expensive cloying perfumes. Thumping synthetic music that would as soon give you a headache. What colour wig to wear that day. “I grew up not far from the mountains east of The Capitol,” Marcus continues. “The Rocky Mountains they were called in the old days. Very different from here – the mountains are much taller, more rugged. And there’s far fewer trees but in its way it’s just as beautiful. My father and I would go hiking most weekends. Sometimes we’d camp out overnight. He knew someone whose job it was to the manage the border fence. He’d turn the electricity off so we could slip under it. In return for a monetary contribution, of course.” “Wait! Why would you have to get past an electrified fence? I thought they only had them in the districts.” I say, in surprise. “No, we had them too. Only it wasn’t to keep us out. It was to stop people from neighboring districts from getting in. You know, terrorists and other malcontents. That’s what we were told anyway. My grandmother lived in terror that she’d be murdered in her bed by marauding savages if the fence failed. It’s a common phenomenon, I’ve noticed, that we assume that others will act exactly like ourselves, if given the opportunity. We oppress others in the mistaken belief that if we don’t, the oppressed will just turn around and do the same to us.” “But we didn’t,” I point out. Marcus is free to travel the country as he pleases and to promote a scheme that was forbidden under Capitol rule. My former prep team prospers in a foreign district. They couldn’t have done that under Snow. But, underneath, a disquieting thought niggles at me. The Victor’s meeting with Coin and the proposal to choose between another Games with Capitol children, or the extermination of all Capitol citizens. It was all made up by Coin, wasn’t it? I assume it had to have been, since neither of those things happened. But still, at least one person had the idea. It’s possible she wasn’t the only one. “No, you didn’t,” confirms Marcus, gazing straight ahead. We sit in silence for a little while. I glance over at him as he quietly eats his lunch. Suddenly I have an urge to reach out to him, to know him better. I sense that, in a way, he’s like me. A kindred spirit of sorts. “My father took me into the woods too. Not to hike or camp. But to show me how to hunt and forage. I was named from the katniss plant that grows around here. Katniss roots are edible – a bit like a potato. My father once told me, “that as long as you find yourself, you’ll never starve.”” “And it’s in the woods that you find yourself?” he asks, with an understanding smile. “Yes,” I say, after considering his question for a moment. I’d never thought of it that way. That my father’s words could allude to more than just my physical survival. “For almost as long as I can remember, actually. A friend once told me that I never smile except in the woods.” I can’t help my lips turning upwards at the memory. It was Gale who said it to me. He certainly had to wait a long time for one. It seems funny now, how intense and focused I used to be. Marcus laughs. “I bet that’s not true.” He starts to pack away the remains of his lunch. “You do get a sense of ownership about it. That it won’t be just yours anymore. Not once we start making it more accessible by laying down walking tracks and putting up signs. But you know it’s happening already – this incursion by the public. And they have a right to enjoy the forest too. At least this way, it can be regulated. If it’s left unchecked and without rules . . . well, you’ve seen what will happen.” I nod. “Yeah, it’s not that I don’t see the necessity. It’s just . . . well, it won’t be the same, will it?” “No, it won’t,” he concedes. “But change is inevitable. It’s better to adapt than to fret about something that won’t come back.” I think about this as we make the long hike back to 12. About fretting over something that won’t come back. As usual, Peeta isn’t too far from my thoughts. I fretted over Peeta for the longest time until I decided to accept the inevitable and adapt to the new situation. I can’t say that I’ve been very successful. As much as I might tell myself that it’s time to move on, there remains a corner of my heart where hope refuses to budge. The wedding looms ever closer and there’s no sign that either Peeta or Lace will change their mind. In fact, they seem more lovey-dovey than ever. She’s back to licking ice-cream off his face. I had the misfortune to catch her at it as I passed by the ice-cream parlor a few days ago. It’s positively sickening. Johanna agrees with me. Overkill, she called it. But apparently not as cringe-worthy as the way Peeta and I used to act. I did take umbrage at this. But I managed to hold my tongue. Johanna has become something of an ally of mine in the Lace affair and I don’t want to ruin it. I need all the allies I can get. Johanna arrived in 12 a few days after Marcus. It was toss-up between mine or Peeta’s house where she stayed – Haymitch’s house was never seriously considered. I wasn’t at home when she turned up unexpectedly at the Victor’s Village, suitcase in hand. But Peeta was. So she’s staying at his house. In the guestroom. I almost choked on my cheese bun when I heard. What happened to being a good boyfriend? Why is she allowed to spend full nights in his house, when I can’t even sleep there for just a few hours when the nightmares get too much?

I was sure my hurt and indignation must have shown, but Johanna didn’t appear to notice anything untoward. Maybe it’s because she was too busy licking the grease from the buns off her fingers, or she just thinks it’s my habitual expression. Between sips of tea, she filled me in on her adventures as an environmental activist. That’s a job title Johanna’s given herself. I knew something about it already. I had recently seen her on TV chained naked to a tree as part of a protest. Johanna got involved when Marcus came her district to call for the cessation of unauthorized logging in the forested areas of 7 and to declare it protected as a national park. And Johanna, aimless and looking for something to do, seized upon it as a cause worthy of her time and effort. She became one of Marcus’s most enthusiastic supporters, organizing protest rallies and demonstrations. I could see why this combination of resisting authority and civil disobedience would appeal to Johanna. And it made her quite the celebrity in 7 in a way that’s totally unconnected to the Games. Most people in 7 were hostile towards the logging companies, who exploited their workers by paying them poorly and making them work long hours in unsafe conditions. No one wanted to see the industry taken to task and regulated more than they. “Is that what brings you to 12?” I asked. “If you’re here to do the same, I think you’ll find that there’s little for you to do. There are no big companies to fight, and most people are OK with a national park. After all, there’s no advantage in taking what you want from the woods, if everyone is doing it. Soon there’s nothing left. And Marcus has the approval and assistance of the local council too. That’s how I came to be working with him.” Johanna simply shrugged. “That’s OK. I sort of knew that, but I’d thought I’d come anyway just in case Marcus did need my help. And since my work is done in 7, I figured I might as well travel a bit and catch up with old friends.” She’s bored, I thought. And lonely. But then something else occurred to me. “Are you interested in Marcus?” “What?” she exclaimed, in genuine surprise. “No! Of course not. I mean he’s attractive enough, but he’s not my type at all. Far too earnest. And he has a one-track mind. It’s all about saving the forests with him. Didn’t even blink when I stripped off in front of him.” “Oh,” I said, momentarily without words. Johanna is used to getting a reaction. It must have come as quite a shock. “Maybe the sun was in his eyes, or something.” “Yeah, maybe. Come to think of it, it was.” Johanna reached for another cheese bun. “So, there’s to be a wedding soon, I hear. I just caught Peeta as he was about to dash out the door. He was in a hurry to get into town so there wasn’t time to chat, but he mentioned something about having to finalize the menu for the wedding reception.” “Yes,” I said, trying to put off for as long as possible what I was sure was coming next. “Peeta’s very particular when it comes to food.” Johanna turned to me with a quizzical look. “Funny. I’d never have picked you for the big wedding type. Peeta, maybe.” “Um, it’s not me Peeta’s marrying. It’s someone else.” I turned my attention to pouring myself another cup of tea. Anything to hide from Johanna’s startled reaction. Of course, then I had to explain everything. And there was no sense in spinning some story about how I don’t care or that I’m happy that Peeta is marrying another. Johanna has the best bullshit detector of anyone I know. And she was with us in the Quell, saw how Peeta’s hijacking affected me. She knows I was far from indifferent about him. “Wow,” said Johanna, after I finished. “The evil-mutt version of himself must still be in there. Except it wants to destroy your soul instead of your body.” “I don’t think it’s quite like that,” I said. “But something is holding him back. Maybe they put some delayed programming into his head. Something that erased the memories he gained and made him fearful of getting them back. I don’t know. Dr Aurelius doesn’t tell me anything.” “Are you still in love him?” asked Johanna, peering at me intently. “Yes,” I said eventually. “But something’s been lost.” “Innocence,” said Johanna, nodding sagely. “And trust. Well, if you want him back, I’ll help you. I know if I were in Peeta’s shoes, and I was about to rush into marriage with a half-cracked brain, I’d want someone to stop me. You in?” I hesitated. It’s not that I don’t want Peeta, it’s that I’m certain that Peeta doesn’t want me. And half-cracked brain or not, he’s happy and I don’t want to ruin that. Anyway, my attempts at interference had just made him more confused than ever. “In,” I said cautiously. “But there’s conditions. He’s not to know how I feel about him unless he specifically asks. We have to give Peeta credit for knowing his own heart, at least. He wouldn’t be marrying Lace if he didn’t love her. This has to be about helping Peeta find the person he was before the hijacking so he can make the best decisions for his future. But if we see signs that we’re doing more harm than good, we back off. Agreed?” “Agreed!” cried Johanna with almost unseemly gusto. Well, at least someone’s happy. Johanna has herself a new project. And then she laid out her ideas for what we should do. Marcus and I eventually make it to the edge of the woods, where the electrified fence once stood. It’s now a tangle of twisted wire, flattened into the ground by many feet. No one seems afraid of predators anymore. Indeed, most of the predators have retreated deeper into the forest as more humans invaded their territory and decimated their numbers with high powered weapons. Marcus has plans to erect information boards here and transform the meadow into a picnic area. I had to remind him that the meadow is also a burial ground and he has promised to respect that. Maybe a memorial of some kind. We haven’t spoken much since we stopped for lunch and I’ve decided that’s one of the things I like about him. He enjoys nature as I do, keenly attune to the sights and sounds around him. The only talk that’s welcome comes from the birds, or from the wind rustling through the trees. We’ll part ways soon. I’ll go home to my house in the Village, only a short distance away. But he has a far longer trek to his hotel on the other side of town. It’s not the most convenient location, even mid-week, as he likes to consult with me about future reconnoiters. “You know, I have plenty of room at my house,” I say. “Why don’t you stay with me for the duration instead of the hotel? It would be more convenient for both of us – closer to the woods for you, and we could plan our walks without having to meet somewhere.” It takes a split second for Marcus to make up his mind. A couple of hours later, he had retrieved his gear from the hotel and he’s now comfortably installed in my house. In the guestroom.

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gingerxtrash · 6 years

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As the years go on /4

So I was in a hurry to finish last chapter so I didn’t proofread all the way so sorry for the mistakes. I just needed to update. I really enjoyed it and it got my a little emotional myself lol. Hope this chapter will be good

Rating:T

Couple: Nalu (also some gruvia, jerza, miraxus, gale)

---Lucy’s P.O.V.---

As I walked to the doors of Magnolia Academy the anxiety in my chest is increasing by the minute. In the first time in five years I must soon face everyone I knew that I have attended middle school with, I have to face the friends I once had until I left without warning. My heart is beating, and my body feels as if it’s shaking. ‘Well, it’s too late to turn back now I guess. I can’t be the weak one anymore, especially with what I have gone through’ I thought to myself. I came to the school early to avoid the crowd of kids that will be coming later. Slowly I open the door to enter the school and saw the nearly empty hallway, I make my way down to the principle’s office to check in. After five minutes I find the office and knocked to see if there was anyone there so I can go through with the paperwork. After knocking on the door I heard a deep and raspy voice coming from the other side telling me to come in. I opened the door and saw a short old man with white hair, on the front of the desk it his name tag was labeled ‘Makarov Dreyar’. “Hello, you must be the new transfer student that I’ve been expecting. Lucy Heartfilia was it?” he said with a small smile on his face. “Yes sir, it is very good to meet you” I said and bowed to him in respect. “There is no need to be formal here, I suppose that you already know of the current gangs here? Please don’t be afraid because they won’t hurt you unless if you do something to irritate them. There is no need to fill out any of your paper work so here is your class schedule” he said. “I already know about them so there is no need to tell me and thank you very much” I said with a smile. “Hope you enjoy your days in Magnolia Academy” he said with a grin and waved me goodbye. I smiled and waved to him. When I looked down at my schedule, I started to make my way to my first class of the day ‘this is going to be a long day’ I thought to myself.

---time skip to English class---

Alright, I have gone through with almost all my classes and now I was on my way to my next and final class. When I opened the door, it creaked open causing everyone in the room to look at me. I scanned the classroom and that is when I saw him. ‘Dear Mavis why does this world hate me so much?’ It will be hard for me to face them due to my disappearance four years ago and I am beyond scared to talk to them. I don’t want them to know anything of my absence because I don’t want them to worry about my situation and I definitely don’t want to put any danger towards them or Fairy Tail.

“Dear, what is your name and are you a new student here?”, a voice I hear from the front of the room comes from a big and bald man who I assume is the teacher of the class. ” Yes, my name is Lucy Hearfilia”. I said silently, trying not to gain more attention on me than I already have. “Well it’s lovely to have you, can you sit next to the big, scary pinky boy in the back?” the teacher says again, and I make my way to my desk and sit down. I look at everyone and see how much they have grown up, well it’s obvious we have grown because we are all 17. Erza has long red hair and a stern look and has a body to die for, she has always been beautiful. Next to her is Jellal who has messy blue hair with the same tattoo he had last time I saw him. Gajeel and Levy are still always around each other, and as promised he does have piercings all over his face, but Levy doesn’t look all that different except for the fact she has grown a few inches over the years. Levy as the same short hair as she did before and looked as if she was going to cry with her eyebrows clenched. Gray has a more sculptured figure then before and had the same messy raven colored hair. Juvia has long blue wavy hair and was sitting next to Gray and stared at me in absolute confusion. The girl with long wavy brown hair was Cana and she had a…. apple juice bottle in her hand...? Laxus must’ve changed a lot because he looks even more scary than he did before. Mira had long silver hair and looked like an angel as always. Mira, Erza, Cana, and Juvia all had big busts so that is a huge difference they have since the last time I have seen them.

Lastly, there he is, the boy…no, the man that I have yearned to see for the last four years. Although, I am afraid that he will never accept me and that is why I need to stay away from him, but he is the kryptonite to my heart. I can’t let myself slip. He has certainly toned up a lot just by looking at his body figure and has messy salmon-colored hair. I look at his onyx colored eyes but quickly looked past them, trying not to get lost in them. He is currently looking at me in pure surprise, but I can see that he is trying his hardest to restrain his emotion. The way he is looking at me makes it even harder to muster up the courage for what I need to say.

After a long pause I gather the strength to face them head on, “I am so sorry to all of you guys for leaving without a word, and I will understand if you guys hate me” I said without showing any emotion. I hated how I need to be harsh to them, but I cannot risk telling them the truth. I cannot tell them because this is something I must do alone, even if I must die in the process.

Everyone just stared at me in shock in what I have just told them, all except for the pair of cold eyes that are set on me. These cold eyes belong to him, they belong to the heir of Fairy Tail, Natsu Dragneel. He once had the eyes of innocence and brightness, but I guess that with his position in the gang he was forced to do many things to become the future leader. I looked at him hoping that he understands what my message to him is. Natsu has always been very respectful to my requests unless it puts me in absolute danger. Natsu nodded his head in agreement so that signifies that he got my message, his gang just turned away when they saw that Natsu’s head turned away from me.

Halfway through the class Mr. Bob told us that we have free time until the rest of class and left to visit the class next to his. Once he left everyone started talking to each other about who ever know what and I didn’t even take the time to listen. In the corner of my eye I see Minerva, Angel, and Jenny staring at me with the same disgusting smirks they had four years ago. Hopefully they don’t plan on talking to me because I really didn’t have the time for their stupid remarks. I can see that they have certainly grown from their physical appearences which I don’t even want to describe. Although, they all wore a bunch of skimpy outfits that revealed a lot of cleavage and probably had five layers of make-up on. There was two other men next to them that had black hair and the other had chestnut hair. ‘Whatever, I don’t have the time nor the energy to associate with them’.

Everything was normal until I heard one voice speck up, “hey loser, why did you even come back? It’s funny because you look more pathetic since the last day we saw you. What’s under that huge sweater of yours? Too many late-night snacks fatty?” Minerva said, and everyone stopped talking. ‘Lovely, another person I have to ignore, although she isn’t someone I mind ignoring’ I thought to myself while letting out a soft sigh. “Hey loser are you deaf or something? I’m talking to you so I demand a answer from you” Minerva said. “Minerva, I don’t think she is worth talking to you knowing that she is now the ugliest brat in the school” Angel said to her ‘friend’. At this moment Erza glared at them, she already has bad blood with Minerva as is. “You’re right Angel, she is a waste, no one wants her here anyway” Minerva said.

Natsu glares at them with a deathly stare and then the bell rings loudly meaning that school is out now. ‘Thank the lord, I finally am done with them’. I get up and quickly start heading out of the door, Loke and Virgo must be waiting for me at the apartment right now. Although, I need to make sure no one follows me home because there are a lot of sketchy people in Magnolia. Who knows, someone may remember me, so I need to keep my guard up.

I make it out of the school and start to exit the gates of the school campus, sadly there are a few people who are following me so I start to walk faster. I finally stop when I heard Minerva’s voice, ‘what does she want now?’ “Hey fatso, did you not hear my question or something?!” she said with an annoyed tone. “Sorry but didn’t bother on listening , oh and you look as if you gained some weight since the last time I saw you” I said with a smirk. “What did you say you b*tch. No one as ugly as you has the right to talk to me like that.” Minerva said who clearly is starting to get mad. I started to walk away until Angel opened her mouth, “we all know why she’s back, the little brat must’ve begged Mommy and Daddy to come back to see her friends, to bad they hate her now” she said while laughing. “Shut your mouth you whore” I said glaring at Angel. “What did you say fatso?” she said back at me in a bit surprise. “I said shut your mouth you whore, did I stutter”, now I as starting to get angry and I know that this little ‘meeting’ will not end well.

Angel starts to walk over to me clearly pissed off from my comment, “you’re gonna pay you pathetic piece of shiz.” She raise her fist to punch me so I grab her arm with my left hand and used my right knee to kick her in the stomach. She bent over from the kick, so I twited her elbow and pulled it until *pop*. She started to scream in pain since I popped her shoulder blade out of place. “You talk to me again like that and I will not hesitate to put you in even more pain. As I said, I don’t have time for a pathetic piece of trash like you” I said while looking down on Angel with pure disgust and rage in my eyes. She looked at me in pure shock and tear in her eyes “Who even are you? I promise you, that was a big mis-”. I didn’t even bother to listen to her and walked away in the direction. I start to get close to home until I see a red car trailing me from far away, I already know that it is Natsu so I go decided to go a different direction to trail him off. I couldn’t let him follow me home because he can’t see where I’m living. He knows how wealthy my family used to be, so he would of course ask about my living conditions and that could lead to the topic on where my parents were. Although, I actually like living in an apartment because it makes me feel like a normal person and not so rich snob.

I spent a half an hour walking around until I finally stopped at a park and sat on one of the swings and waited for the red car to approach the parking lot. About two minutes later, I see his car pull up and he started to get out of the car with a concerned and mad look on his face. That is something I expect no less from him now, after all he does have a right to be mad at me. Natsu walked up to me and sat on the swing next to me, “What the hell happened?” he said while not even looking at me. “It was nothing, just a bit of a grudge.” I said, still looking forward. His head snapped towards me and he raised his voice, “Don’t play coy, I’m talking about why you dissapered for four years and then you suddenly just come back.” I looked at him back knowing that he was getting annoyed at me, “It’s none of your business okay? You have other things to worry about at this point so there is no need for you to talk to me” I said coldly. Honestly, I felt horrible talking so harshly towards anybody but at this moment it is necessary for me not to show any emotion. “Hmph, don’t you know that it is stupid to say something like that in front of me. I’m your superior so don’t think you can get away with not telling me the truth Heartfilia” Natsu said with absolute rage in his eyes. I widen my eyes and ponder on what he said ‘he’s my superior?’. I stand up and stand in front of him and started to raise my voice, “Excuse me? Since when were you my superior” I said as I started to raise my voice. Natsu stood up to and stood up in front of me looking down to meet my eyes (because he was a few inches taller than me). “Even if you did abandon us, you are still apart of Fairy Tail as you once were. And take note of this, I never leave a friend behind”

I widen my eyes in shock and step back a little but I didn’t notice until it was too, I tripped on a rock. Immediately I feel a strong and firm arm wrap around my back and the other arm hit the ground, like it was preventing me from fully falling on the little pebbles. I look up to see the cause of my protected landing and I see that it was Natsu holding me with his face just a few inches away from mine. I was beyond surprised that a bright red blush covered my face. Since we are so close I can smell the burnt wood that intoxicating my nose which made me crave him. Suddenly, the space between us is starting to close and I can feel the heat that is radiating off of us. Natsu raises his hand to caress my cheek and I---.

“Princess, I was loo-, oh did I just interrupt something? If so you can go ahead and punish me if you’d like to do so.” Virgo said with a smirk on her face. Natsu and I both stand up immediately, embarresed of the situation that just happened. “u-u-uh, no…nothing was happening…w..we were j..just-“ I was trying to make an excuse until I was interrupted. “Don’t fret Princess, you need to run a few errands.”

---Natsu’s P.O.V.---

As I look at Lucy, her back is turned, and she was walking away from me with Virgo. I wanted so badly to reach out to her and not let her leave my sight, I wanted her in my arms, and I desired to get lost in her beautiful eyes once again. I feel horrible about the way I talked to her, my anger got the best of me since this day has been absolutely crazy. It hurts like hell, but I will not let her go easily. I am upset that she un-intentionally hurt me, I am upset that she didn’t want anything to do with me, and I am definitely upset that she is keeping secrets from me. I am a leader, and I will not let my comrades go through things alone. Lucy may not consider herself as a Fairy Tail member anymore, but she will always have a place in Fairy Tail.

“Hey Natsu!” I turn around hearing a familiar voice which belonged to a man in his mid-twenties with messy orange hair and topped off with sunglasses. “Well long time to see Loke, almost didn’t recognize you since you look like an old man now. Bet you don’t get anymore ladies no more.” I said with a smirk to my old friend. “Ouch, that hurt me Natsu and were you ever taught to respect your elders?” Loke said while pretending to act as if he is hurt. “I’m getting bored so I’m going to le-“, as I was talking I was interrupted as Loke put a hand on my shoulder. “I know you have all missed Lucy, but we need you to stay away from her”, Loke said with a serious face. “And why should I listen to you old man?” I snarled, and I was starting to lose my temper because I do not tolerate others telling me what to do. Loke started to walk away, “Virgo and I will be watching you so don’t do anything stupid, Natsu!” he said over his shoulder.

I just look at him walking away, my fists were clenched, my anger started to rise every time I think of what he just told me. My thoughts have been interrupted when I get a phone call, I quickly looking at the screen to see that it was Laxus calling. I answer the phone and put it up to my ear, “What do you need?” I said harshly into the phone. “Calm down pyro, I was just calling because you’re late to the base. Is your brain so small that you forgot about the mission we have in a couple hours? Man, I can’t believe that you’re going to be our new leader.” Laxus said over the phone. ‘That man really needs to take a chill pill’ I thought to myself, I responded, “Yeah yeah I’m on my way right now so don’t get your panties in a twist” I said and hung up the phone without giving him a chance to respond. Walking to my car I look around at my surroundings only to see houses and I start making my way to the base.

---Lucy’s P.O.V.---

After a short and silent car ride home, Virgo and I entered the peaceful looking apartment, we walked over to the kitchen and Loke was sitting on one of the chairs sipping his coffee. “About time you guy’s got home, let’s go over tonight’s plans, shall we?” I took a seat and took off my fake glasses from earlier today. Virgo was retrieving a big piece of paper then took a seat at the table. The piece of paper was a map of a building here in Magnolia and it was also the location I was going to ‘to do some errands’. Loke cleared his throat, catching my attention and grabbed a gun, tranquilizer, and a whip. “Lucy, your mission today is to take out a semi-small gang which is nothing you can’t handle on your own” Loke said in a serious tone and I nodded in agreement. “What is the name of the gang?” I asked, I wanted to know what I was getting myself into ahead of time. My head turned when I heard Virgo’s voice, “The gang calls themselves the Neo-Sies, they are powerful but a sloppy gang. They have started selling women as slaves to pay their debts to other gangs. We need to terminate the gang before their underground business grows” Loke said with a serious face. “Agreed, where is their base?” I said. “15 miles from here so I expect you to leave immediately and leave no trace of your work”. I looked Loke straight in the eye and nodded in agreement. I walk to my room to change into black leather pants and a black leather hood. The outfit hugged my curves perfectly, but I only wore it so I can move around stealthy and quick. I topped my ensemble with black combat boots that stopped a couple inches above my anckles.

Once I am done with changing, I go to the table and grab my assigned weapons and walk to the door, but I was interrupted by Loke’s voice. “Lucy, you will be accompanied by one of the gang members of the gang that acts as a spy. I know this man personally and I trust him with my life.” I look at him in curiosity “If so, who is this man that I am to work with” I said as I rested my hands on my hips. “Don’t worry sweetie, you will figure out in due time”. ‘That man at times can be really suspicious’ “If this ends up getting me killed, I am coming back for you and killing you myself” I said and immediately left.

---Third Person---

“It seems like the topic of punishment has occurred, if Loke gets punished can I get punished too” Virgo said, still in her stoic voice. “Don’t worry I will punish you myself sweet-heart” Loke looked at Virgo.

“I advise to you children that this is mature content between big brother and I, in this chapter we will keep it PG-13” Virgo said looking straight at the screen. “Um Virgo…you really need to stop calling me big brother when referring to sexual topics…it creates the wrong kind of idea…” Loke said with a sweatdrop above his head. Virgo turned to look at Loke, “does that mean I will receive more punishment, big brother?” “OKAY BACK TO STORY!!”

---Lucy’s P.O.V.---

After 15 minutes, I arrive to the destination of the base of Neo-Seis, I see a warehouse with dim lights in the building and a gray exterior. It would look like an abandoned building to the blind eye so that would explain why no one really would find this place too suspicious. There are wired fences around the building, although I am lucky that there is no electrical wire on the top so I would be able to easily climb over. As I get closer to the building, I’m keeping myself in the shadows so I can get a closer view of the place. As I approach the building I see a silhouette walking towards me ‘shiz’ I quickly hide behind the abandoned car until I hear a raspy and deep voice. “Lucy Heartfilia, huh? I’ve been waiting for you, I suppose Loke already told you about me?” I see the figure coming closer and I see a man with chestnut brown spiky/messy hair and tan skin. “Cobra?” I say in a low but questioning voice, “So are you really the friend Loke told me about? Seems to me that he is a bit too old to have friends that are your age.” I said with a smirk on my face. “Hmph, I must admit that the old geezer is a good man” Cobra said. “So why are you apart of a gang that you want to help me destroy?” “There is only one simple answer to that, I was instructed to be a spy to the gang….and they took away someone special to me so I will not let them get away with that” Cobra said with a devilish grin on his face. I choose not to ask because I don’t want to invade his personal privacy, “So do you have any info on the man that we are supposed to kill before we blow this place?” Cobra looked at me “Yes, this man is known as Zero, he is pretty sloppy with his work and has resulted to sex trafficking young woman to pay off his debts to multiple gangs. He has security but they are not all that great at their job so it will be easy to get around. Drug and weapon deals are low due to the quality being completely horrible. They are not worthy of calling themselves a gang and should be disbanded because they are forcing innocent people to join the gang, people who don’t have it in them to take the real jobs” Cobra said in disgust. “I agree, now enough with the chit-chat and lets get this job done with” I said with a playful wink.

---Natsu’s P.O.V.---

The mission is almost over, and I am exhausted and ready to sleep, I really hate it when my dad has me do such easy jobs. At the moment we are on the docks waiting for the shipping units to arrive to receive the drugs and weapons. We are receiving weed, acid, and some cocaine for the drugs. For the weapons we are receiving eckler, Koch HK MG4 Machine Gun, curacy International AS50 Sniper Rifle, and FN F2000 Assault Rifles from the gang Lamia Scale from a few towns away that we work with.

In the front watching for the gaurds are Laxus, Gajeel, Erza, and Jellal because they are some of our best fighters and can take on any amount of people. The people back here are Mira, Cana, Juvia, Levy, and Gray. They are the ones who are checking if our shipment is correct. Lastly, I am the one who is negotiating with Jura Neekisn. He big, tall, bald mixed man with a small mustache and eybrows. Definetely a man I wouldn’t want to start beef with because he is one of the most known gang leaders and the most dangerous. Although, he is not as dangerous as my Father who is known as the King of Dragons.

We are talking about how things are going in the industry and what the upgrades are about. Jura proceeds to talk about what the improvments in the weapons are and what they can do. I honestly couldn’t care less about the drugs but that is one of our biggest demands in the markets. “Mr. Dragneel, have you ever heard of the gang the Neo-Seis at all?” Jura said with a strict face that would make anyone piss there pants, including me. “Yes, there are some members who work for them in my class, hmph some of the girls in there are total cunts so I don’t even bother messing with girls like them.” I say with a smirk on my face, ‘hmph, Luce is the only one I want in my arms and in my bed….wait, what am I thinking’ mentally scolding myself for that thought. “Well, I want you to check them out for me and update their position. They have started a business of sex-trafficing and I am wondering where they are on that. As gang members we shouldn’t really care on what rival gangs do, but this is a form of business that only low-lifes do” Jura said still looking forward at mind and his workers. “I will defentily look into it, it is on our way home so I check it out” I say looking forward at the same thing Jura is looking at.

Once we got done, me and my team and I entered our black vehicles so we could go back to the base at a quick pace. Jellal is currently driving in the car we are in with Mira, Laxus, and Erza in the back while I sit in the front. “Jellal, take us to the Neo-Seis base. There are some things I need to check out befor we enter the base. Jellal looked at me and then nodded without any question to my orders. It takes about ten minutes to get there, once we got there Jellal parked the car and I proceed to get out.

*Boom*

I soar back and hit the hood of the car as the base of Neo-Seis werehouse is burning from an unknown explosion.

‘What the hell just happened here?’

Hey so I know that you guys can be a little wierded out from what just happened between Loke and Virgo. I would usually ship Loke with Aries, but due to the story I had to put them together because of comedy effects. PLEASE FORGIVE ME! Anyway I hope that you enjoyed this chapter though 😊 if so please leave a review of a like!!

VIRGO: “I would feel very violated if big brother bunished me Em, I would much rather my Princess to punish me.”

Aries: “Leo *sniff* *sniff* HOW CAN YOU DO THIS *runs away crying*

Loke: No No Aries, it’s all that ginger authors fault!!

Chapter 1- https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173317577354/as-the-years-go-on

Chapter 2- https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173429902759/as-the-years-go-onch2

Chapter 3- https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173535087109/as-the-years-go-on3?is_related_post=1

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