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shantechni · 9 months

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"2012 Mikey is Abused" and other constant complaints that, quite frankly, don't make sense

Since one Reddit user (who shall remain anonymous) inadvertently made me type out an essay I intended to write and post in a more coherent manner at a later date, I will be using their comment and my response.

Anyways, the comment itself starts off fairly normal and agreeable:

But then I see the next three points and my sleep-deprived mind just goes off the rails, so let's start with the second point:

Let me preface this by saying I absolutely do not condone the writing here because everyone under the sun will agree that we could've easily had the "Karai is our sister!?" plot twist without Leo and Karai briefly developing feelings for each other.

The problem is that this brief development of feelings is wildly blown out of proportion by the fandom, so much so that it makes it seem as though Leo and Karai actually had anything legitimate going on between them.

The "incest-eqsue garbage" between Leo and Karai is almost nonexistent outside of the writing room. They openly crush on each other for a whopping six episodes by way of verbally teasing each other and being at odds before Karai tells Leo that she's the Shredder's daughter. That's it. He is not pursuing her after that (hardly ever did, not even to the extent that Donnie pursues April) and Karai isn't remotely fond of him anymore after he broke their deal. Then, after we find out alongside Splinter that she's actually his daughter, he tells Leo towards the end of Follow the Leader. We don't get a reaction, actually nothing on Leo's side since the Foot Clan is mostly absent with April being the main point of conflict, even in Target: April O'Neil because April's forgiveness of the turtles is the main focus.

Leo eventually attempts to tell Karai the truth in Wormquake! and The Manhattan Project and she obviously doesn't believe the poor guy, she just wants to kill the turtles and Splinter at this point. Leo doesn't tell her because "he still likes her", but because, in his own words, it would change everything. She deserves to know the truth and Splinter shouldn't have his own daughter cursing him at every waking moment. When she tricks the gang into bringing her to the lair under the guise of her finally accepting the truth, Leo is ecstatic and his first thought is for her and Splinter to make amends. He's upset that Raph still can't fully trust her in the end when she fought alongside them (who can blame Raph though, he's cradling an unconscious brother after a plan gone awry), and that's the end of that.

They dedicate two episodes to the guys attempting to rescue her because Leo has enough brain cells to worry about what the Shredder could be doing with her, and Raph makes a jab at Leo on one instance when they find her (there is absolutely no romantic undertone, Raph just picks at his old crush on her and their tendency to tease each other at the worst times). Then, when she wants to get back at the Shredder for ripping her away from a life she never knew was her's, Leo attempts to aid her because he knows it isn't wise to face someone like that alone, especially with his henchmen there.

There's one last self-aware jab at their past feelings in S5, of which Karai awkwardly remembers and forgoes mentioning, and that's the last you see or hear of that.

As much as I dislike it, I'd take this narrative over the Donnie-April-Casey hurricane any day.

It seems that 2012 Mikey's mere existence is a sore spot for fans because Jesus Christ this gets brought up way too much.

Mikey is not written as a complete idiot, he's written as someone who doesn't see a reason to take everything so seriously, has odd habits, and doesn't always think things through, yet is shown to be highly capable and intelligent when the situation calls for it. Yes the writers left much to be desired at times, but to say they wrote him to be a "complete idiot" and left it at that is just offensive. I'll ignore all the miraculous things Mikey can do with Kraang stuff and Dimension X and focus on what other things he's shown to be capable of.

Mikey was a temporary learning model for Donnie in how to fight without thinking, or in better terms, how to fight instinctually without becoming bogged down by your own mind. Splinter's lesson is shown in a comedic manner, but that's ultimately what helped Donnie defeat Falco.

Another interesting thing is his ability to keep his composure when no one else around him can do so. I mentioned this briefly in another post, but it really stands out to me how he put Leo at the top of his priority list in Invasion Part 2. He's as worried for Splinter as Raph and Donnie are, but they have with them a crippled and unconcious Leo who needs medical attention asap, compared to martial arts master Splinter who's older and wiser than the three of them combined at times. Even when they eventually find Splinter and lose him, he keeps the gang in line by reminding them, as well as himself, that Splinter can take care of himself.

Along with that is when Splinter was kidnapped in The Manhattan Project. Mikey was quick to intervene when Raph was angry with Leo for allowing Tiger Claw to coax him into calling Splinter, and he reminded the two of the problem at hand: they have Splinter, let's go find him and take him back. There are so many other moments when he becomes the levelheaded one in response to the chaos or disorder surrounding him.

Mikey is a highly skilled fighter, he's emotionally intelligent, he remembers the weirdest things that eventually aid the team, he's street smart, he's a fast learner (ex: Bradford's secret kata, as well as the temporary use of the plasma katana in Target: April O'Neil), he's great at distracting enemies without needing to become bait, he gets insecure about things, he has photographic memory, he's the most outgoing of his brothers and therefore ends up with the most friends, he's quick to adapt to a situation and think of a plan, he can throw together seemingly random ingredients to create exactly what Donnie would struggle to create, he knew exactly what to do to find Casey after his run-in with Tiger Claw, the list goes on.

Heck, just to add to this, Mikey is the one who saves the day in three separate stories in S5. 1) His temporary electric powers save the world from Dregg and the Newtralizer, 2) he convinced Frankenstein's monster to join their side, retrieved the scepter from Savanti and Dracula (he accidentally broke the scepter while he was at it, but that helped) and cured Raph and Donnie of their vampirism, and 3) he was the one who repaired Kavaxas' seal and made him reopen the portal to the Netherworld so the dead could return.

The brothers don't always take him as seriously as they should or listen to him, and that's understandable at times, but when they do, they're reminded of the fact that Mikey, in his own way, is intelligent.

If I had a dime for every comment I've seen about this, I'd be rich enough to buy the TMNT series from Viacom and right every wrong they made with the 2012 series.

These abuse allegations are as bad as people putting Markiplier in the same tweet as problematic Youtubers and saying something wild like, "these content creators should've been cancelled a long time ago." I feel like people who say the brothers abuse Mikey are either an only child or genuinely have a warped sense for what actually counts as abuse, and I'm not even trying to be mean, those are just my thoughts. I shouldn't even have to comment on this, but the fact that people are still seriously believing that to this day is shocking.

Would you also like to say that Raph was abused in Turtle Temper when Splinter had the boys ceaselessly taunt him in that little exercise? Or that the boys abused Raph everytime they downplayed his anger? Or that Raph abused Donnie by threatening to hit him if he didn't find Snakeweed's hideout? Or that Leo abused Donnie everytime he stressed him out by rushing him for answers? Or that Donnie abused Mikey because Mikey flinched 2cm to the right when Donnie raised his hand to playfully knock at his noggin? Or that Leo was abused by the team because they took forever to view him as their leader? Or that Splinter abused the boys because he was "too rough" on them during training?? Or that April abused Donnie because she "constantly led him on"? Or that Xever and Bradford abused Baxter???

I'm losing my mind over here

Mikey is never physically or emotionally abused by his brothers, the show speaks for itself. But if you somehow aren't listening, go look up a textbook example of abuse, or better yet, look at Karai.

Abuse is the Shredder locking Karai in a dungeon when she tries to escape to her real family and going so far to become a peak manipulator by saying Karai was hurting him by making him lock her away. Worse than that, he starts brainwashing her with mind controlling worms so she has no choice but to obey him. Even before then, he's lowkey uncaring of her wellbeing: he treats her like any other soldier of his and doesn't listen to her when she tries to tell him something. He doesn't address her concerns about the Foot bots nearly finishing her off, instead telling her, "disobedience comes with a stiff penalty, especially for my daughter," when she objects to him telling her not to take action against the turtles while he's gone.

He only ever pays her any attention or gives her praise when it benefits him and his vendetta against Splinter.

Splinter and the turtles are the farthest thing from the image of a family filled with abusers. Raph openly apologizes to Mikey when Splinter tells him to stop picking at him in Shellacne, Raph comforts Donnie when the brainiac is somber after forcing Timothy into the equivalent of a cold sleep, Raph apologizes when his anger gets the better of him and he hits Leo harder than intended, Donnie apologizes when he realizes he shouldn't insult Raph when the guy is visibly upset, Leo regrets doubting Donnie about Metalhead, etc., etc.

Even beyond apologies, Raph is the quickest to entertain Mikey and vice versa during a mundane moment, Donnie never kicks Mikey out of the lab, Leo plays around with Mikey when the situation doesn't call for him to be their fearless leader, and Splinter is quick to advise Mikey during Karai's Vendetta and Shellacne. There are even times when the guys just go along with Mikey's antics because there's no harm in doing so, and often times Mikey needs a moment to be silly.

If you think play fighting, teasing, or getting a little physical with a sibling is the equivalent of abuse, particularly in the context of TMNT of all things, you need to do some re-evaluation.

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paintingpuff · 8 months

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Ooh the backstory for the comic sounds so cool! Could you maybe post the short story?

Sure, I'll put it under the cut!

Keep in mind the comic is an adaptation so the story had to go through some changes.

File info says this was made during quarantine which definitely explains why I can't remember writing it

My sister--and most people in our village, in fact--think that my child is not my own. One would assume it was because of the incident a month after my daughter’s birth, where I walked into her room only to find a fairy flying out the window, a bundle in her arms.

But that’s not why my sister thinks my daughter is fae, because I didn’t tell anyone about that incident. Instead, my sister says it’s because my child is acting odd. It’s a logic I can’t understand, since all children are strange to me.

I love the way they approach the world with a mix of naivete and eagerness. I’ve even met children that don’t realize that a scrape or scratch is supposed to hurt until you look alarmed. They have no understanding of common sense, because everything they do is for the first time in their life. They’re honest, harsh, and innocent in a manner that is gradually clogged up with new responsibilities and knowledge as they grow older.

Their world is limited, and as such they completely permeate it. It’s fragile and destructive in a way I don’t think can be replicated, not after that window of early childhood has passed.

I see it in every child, and my daughter does not seem any more unusual. But my sister insists that there is a difference, and shakes her head whenever she thinks it’s relevant.

My child has broken the table. Not much, she just jumped on the top one too many times and its leg splintered. I’m not going to get it replaced, or get it fixed, or at least not immediately.

She got in a fight with some other children in town, they said something that she just couldn’t understand and she lashed out with a stick. The other kid only had a red mark on his skin from the impact, at least.

My daughter hates being around others, and spends most of her time back home, where it’s quiet. I once tried taking her to the market and she broke down crying, sitting in the middle of the road. I consoled her there, crouching in the dirt path, and tried ignoring the judgemental stares from people passing by. She would rather spend hours on end at the edge of the forest. I don’t let her explore on her own, and when I’m gone the others say she always stands just before the trees become too dense and stares off, wistfully.

She’s a picky eater, but a very hungry one. I can’t find a consistent set of taste, and each new meal feels like a gamble of my time, but I have to take those chances because I can’t have her eating only eggs and milk for each meal of the day.

She doesn’t like being touched, reacts to my fingers as if they’ve given her rashes, and for the longest time I felt lost because I didn’t know how else to comfort her.

(I found my ways eventually. When she gets upset, I take my grandmother’s woolen scarf from its rack and wrap her in it. She loves running her hands along the threads.)

After long days of gathering food and walking from errand to errand I’m woken up in the middle of the night by her, and we both struggle to go back to sleep from her nightmares. When she was a baby she wailed as loud as she could, because she knew doing that would bring me to her. Now I’m afraid that I won’t hear her and she’ll think I left her alone on purpose. My friends comment on the bags under my eyes always getting darker. I know they’re trying to remind me that it’s a bad thing.

They call her a changeling, something that has replaced my real baby. The child I gave birth to is out in those woods, the stories say, maybe dancing with fairies or being sacrificed to the devil. But in the meantime, they say I am left with a parasitical replica, a creature that saps me of my energy, food and time.

I sometimes wonder if they’ve ever had a child before.

I do my best to brush off the people in town, but my sister is more insistent. I know she’s just being protective since my husband’s passing, but something snapped in me with the way she spoke. I yelled that the stories of the fae were all hogwash, and she asked me how I could be so sure. So I told her the truth:

I had already seen the fairy.

I had returned home early from the market, and had seen my daughter sitting at the edge of the forest, like always. Her hand was raised to the air, a single finger stretched parallel to the ground. This didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me, and I was about to head back inside and prepare dinner, when I saw a flicker of movement.

A tiny sparrow emerged from behind a tree, and settled on my daughter’s finger.

It was difficult to see her face from my angle, but just from the outline of her cheeks I could tell she was grinning from ear to ear. The bird whistled to her, and the child gave a raspy, unpracticed melody in response. She moved her hand around carefully, not wanting to startle the bird, but a part of me knew that something as simple as a jolt wouldn’t make the bird go away.

The bird was only there for a few minutes before it took off and vanished back into the forest. So my child sat up, stained in green but not caring, and ran back to the house. I entered shortly afterwards, acting casual. She didn’t know I saw her, and she didn’t tell me about the bird then, so I can only wonder how many times the bird had come before.

Still, gradually the two of us came to a common understanding: she figured out I knew about the bird, and I knew that she knew.

I hadn’t fully realized we’d had this agreement until my daughter stepped into my house, sharp distress twisting her face. She raised her tiny fingers to show blood spilled on them, but not from any wound of her own. She told me the bird had been missing feathers, had perched on her finger with only one leg, and its song was weaker than before. Her bird calls had already greatly improved, so she imitated the bird’s pained song for me, just to make sure I understood.

She wanted to follow the bird into the woods, see that it’s alright. I crouched down with the scarf, wrapped her in it, and told her that I would find the bird myself.

So I wandered through the dark woods, the sun already starting to set, a torch in hand and a cloak on my shoulders. I heard a whistling in the woods, and the melody rangs familiar. The bird was still singing, and it didn't sound any weaker, but my daughter has always been more attentive to details; I trusted her.

I kept walking, kept following the bird, and for brief flickers in the treetops I saw flaps of wings. It was flying slower than usual. It ducked behind a tree, and when I stepped around to keep my eye on the bird, I saw a child.

It was not my child, but another little girl of a similar age, one with brown hair closer to my own than my daughter’s fiery red. Patterns were dotted across her arms like that of a sparrow’s wings, but her skin was also spotted with bruises and scratches, twigs and leaves and mud in her hair and stuck to her body. She didn't seem to be in pain, and I wondered if anyone had told her that those scratches are supposed to hurt. She hugged the tree, perhaps as a shield or perhaps as comfort.

I crouched down, and kept my voice quiet. “Hello.”

She stepped back a little, keeping her eyes off of me.

“Are you the one who plays with my daughter?”

More silence. I swallowed, my throat already dry. “She considers you a very good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.”

The girl’s voice was rough and unused, but that similar constriction in my chest came when I heard it, and I fully realized that this is just another kid I was talking to. I told her what people call me. The girl gave no response, but I could tell that she was relaxing.

“Are you a fairy?”

The girl nodded. “I can turn into a bunch of different animals.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“A cat, and....a dog, and, uh...I’m a sparrow a lot.”

“Do you like flying around?”

To my surprise, the girl shook her head. She told me she likes landing on my daughter’s finger. “I like singing with her,” she said.

I asked her why she doesn’t transform into different animals to do so much more, and the girl looked at me with the most genuine and honest confusion I’ve seen. She didn’t understand the other options, because this was the only one that mattered to her. Her scope was so small, but she embraced it so wholly that I couldn’t be upset. “Are your injuries okay?” I asked instead.

There was a slight bob of her head, one I almost didn’t see in the dark. “They’ll get healed up.” She pointed over her shoulder to a small ring of mushrooms behind her. I know a fairy circle when I see one, and I nodded in understanding. I left her to vanish in the fog of that forest.

I returned home to my daughter and told her the bird is okay, and will come again tomorrow. She didn’t make a relieved expression or gesture, but gave a very quiet and polite “Thank you,” so I know that she was grateful.

Some of the townsfolk think I’ve had my real child switched with an anomaly, a magic changeling. When I first met the bird, I thought that perhaps she was the changeling that was supposed to replace my child.

But whenever the bird appeared again, I made sure to leave some bread and milk for her, as well as leave our window open, in case she ever needed to rest at our home. My child came to me, wanting to sew a pillow for the bird to sleep on. The snacks I left out became more and more elaborate, from a small bit of porridge to pieces of a cake. Some days I would wake in the morning early enough to see that bird curled up in the roughly made pillow of my daughter’s.

I didn’t even think twice before I moved the pillow to my child’s room, setting it next to her head. I watched her and the bird snore peacefully, and I watched as the bird’s feathers slowly retracted and its silhouette expanded in the faint morning light.

It wasn’t until I saw the two children, holding each other tightly under the warm blankets and roof of their shared house, did I realize that both I and the townsfolk were wrong.

No child of mine had been replaced, nor were they meant to. I simply had two daughters.

#writing #changelings #ask #gray ball

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is-lu-for-everyone · 1 year

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TMNT 2012 AU that i have trapped in my head and i need to get OUT✨️

Time travel and apocalyptic future where the kraang is living it's best life

Leo, Raph and Donnie played with things they Shouldn't Have and ended lost in a mess of a New York, years in the future and things look Bad

Mikey stayed behind, very much scared and lost, like, they were just THERE and now they AREN'T

Years into the future, the turtles go to their home just to find it abandoned and destroyed and without Master Splinter or Mikey or ICK or anyone on sight

Begins a race to catch up with old friends and enemies, find out all the things that happened in the last years, and defeat the kraang once and for all.

Donnie is flabbergasted by the fact that April and Casey have a daughter

A DAUGHTER

Mikey, April and Casey are living their best lives being rebel leaders and parents of a little menace with powers (someone PLEASE help them)

Raph has someone that FINALLY matches his anger issues (he is not amused by this, he hates it actually)

The Trio has a List Of Incidents that had happened in the last years

Leo is Not Amused

Little Jones is Raph's Fan Number 1, he tries to doesn't hide how proud he is of that

'Yeah little Jones, i'm THAT awesome' 'that didn't happen, Raph' 'shut it, Don, we cool people are talking'

Donnie, Leo and Raph Do Not Like being treated like kids so suddenly, they are NINJAS, MIKEY, NINJAS

Nobody is treating these three teenagers like adults and they HATE IT

Mikey puts them in time out at one point. Leo had a crisis, Raph was so angry that he couldn't even speak and Donnie was in mourning. He had ONE little brother but not anymore. Now HE is the little brother. He didn't appreciated the privileges of being a Big Brother enough

They Don't Like the fact that Mikey is now older and they try to be Cool with it

(The pain goes away when Mikey gives him kraang tech later, he actually like being spoiled like this, a little)

They are not coping well, that's their LITTLE BROTHER, YOUR HONOUR.

He has no bussiness being a LEADER or a FATHER

Mikey is protective with his siblings

they look very small, OK? (Yes, Casey, we will ignore the fact that Donnie is still taller than Mikey, Don is barely taller)

April is deranged, kraang mutations kicking strong with her

She likes to scare the shit out of Casey with them

Karai comes and goes being the Queen that she is, best Big Sister and Leader of what there is left of the Foot Clan

Casey is CONVINCED that she and April are hanging out on a regular basis without them, he does not like that. Karai ALWAYS has the best missions and NEVER takes Casey with her

Spike nearly broke all of Raph's bones with a hug

Softie denies it but he loved it

Michelangelo 'morals? What morals?' Hamato

The Trio gives zero fuck right now

Leo is horrified by this

They just try to make it work

ANGST

Mikey is big brothering like a PRO in the outside but truly he is panicking in the inside, my man is about to lose it.

The Trio + Their Little Menace

(Not pictured, but just as Mikey has one of Leo's swords, April has Donnie's Bo and Casey has one of Raph's sais, it was a battle of custody)

Little Jones wants to learn to do The Thing With The Disgunting Pink Things but April doesn't tell her how. UNFAIR.

Why Mikey has hair? He and Casey fucked around with mutagen for shit and giggles and found out. Terryfing at the time, hilarious now (that's what they say)

Too much thoughts in my mind

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 au #tmnt 2012 april #tmnt 2012 casey jones #tmnt 2012 mikey #tmnt 2012 michelangelo #tmnt 2012 leo #tmnt 2012 raph #tmnt 2012 donnie #tmnt 2012 april o'neil

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abbatoirablaze · 11 months

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The Understudies, Season 2, Chapter 7

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of suicide/character death, angst.

“What else do you need, Mr. Hargreeves?”

“Nothing Abhijat,” he said gruffly, trying to ignore the emotions that were threatening to overflow from him, “please…leave me and my daughter now, so that I may grieve.”

“As you wish, sir.”

The thick, oak doors closed to the basement, temporarily sealing Reginald in with the daughter that was now frozen in time. His anger mixed with the sadness over the soulless corpse laying in front of him.

“Stupid…stupid girl,” he muttered out loud, a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he stared at her. He sniffled, “how could you do something so inconceivably stupid!”

The door slammed open, wood splintering from both the frame and the door, and Reginald as well as Abhijat rushed into the bathroom.

Terror overcame the eccentric businessman as he noticed the overflowing tub, stained a horrible, muddled pink-red color. His throat went dry as the horror processed and Abhijat rushed to the tub.

“Miss. Brianna!”

He knew that she wasn’t his child in the biological sense.

But his heart broke over the kinship that the two of them had shared in the short amount of tiem that she’d been in his life.

He watched, motionless, as Abhijat struggled with pulling her body out of the tub, what little blood remained in her body spilling from her throat, staining his clothing.

“She’s dead!”

The words barely registered in his mind as Abhijat looked at him. But he was simply unable to pull his eyes away from hers; the lifeless orbs staring back, unwavering.

With teary eyes, he finished his collections, sending the last sample into the briefcases that were temperature controlled. He gave a heavy sigh as he closed the lid to the first one and placed it beside the cooler. The second one he left open.

Over the years that they’d spent together, he’d taken samples of blood and tissue, sampled her genetics so that he could see where down the line her body mutated, making her have superpowers.

And he was able to modify it. So much so that they had altered Pogo, the chimp that was now like a son to him. His modifications were the only tangible thing that he’d been able to accomplish with her in his life.

“I’m so sorry I failed you, little one,” he sighed to himself. He looked at her face. The mortician had done his best to cover up the self-made wound, and he’d used a scarf that had been his mothers, tying it around her neck in another attempt to further hide the fact that she was gone of her own accord, “but you worry not…I will not allow this to happen in the future. I will find you, and I will prove to you that I am able to protect you from them. We will make the Sparrow Academy…and you will be the one who leads it. I will make you proud, whether you know it or not, little one.”

“This isn’t right, mum…”

“She’s your sister,” the handler shrugged, looking at the dazed looking Dot, “the two of you are on the right side now…you should be happy that I didn’t ask you to dispose of her, like I’m asking you to do to your little boyfriend.”

“Diego is-“

“Different,” she groaned, cutting her off, “yes, yes, I get it. You think that your little boyfriend is so much different from the rest of his family, but he’s not. He’s only using you, Lila. He on-“

“But she wasn’t?”

The handler scoffed, looking at Dot, who barely seemed coherent, “she went chasing after five for so long that she had halfway fried her brain anyways. If anything, we fixed her!”

“She looks like a zombie.”

“Not a zombie,” the handler corrected as she walked to the briefcase room and grabbed a case, “she’s a well-trained operative now. We’ve had her running missions all over the place! And she hasn’t cracked.”

“Zombie!” Lila repeated, tapping her sister’s cheek. Dot didn’t shift an inch. She frowned, half hoping to get a reaction out of her.

“Enough. Stop prodding your sister!” The handler proclaimed, linking arms with both Dot and Lila. A blue light wrapped around them, and pulled them to the farm. The handler smiled, taking a deep breath in, “Hmmm. I love the smell of fresh country air. Don’t you darling?”

“Makes me want to vomit!” Lila groaned.

The handler looked at Dot, “Dot? Any input?”

She only grunted in response. The handler chuckled to herself, “See…she’s got opinions.”

“Hardly!” Lila replied, “come on mom, let’s find Five. I want to watch him pay!”

“Soon, darli-“

“What do you idiots want?” he asked. His brow quirked momentarily as his focus shifted to Dot, “Dot…y-you made it here? Why are you with them?”

Lila and the handler stopped their back and forth only to see Five and Diego standing before them, “to watch you suffer!”

Five’s concentration broke, “what?”

“And what about me?” Diego asked.

“You’re not even worth my wrath!” she growled.

“Easy,” the handler warned, “we’re here on official business.”

“And what business is that?” he taunted, “to bring back Dot?”

“As the head of the commission, I’ve decided to eliminate the criminals responsible for the assassination of the former board of directors!”

Diego’s brow furrowed momentarily, and then he scoffed, “yeah, right. WE didn’t kill the board!”

“Actually Diego, that’s not entire accurate!”

The handler looked amused, “you didn’t tell them? Oh, five!”

“What did you do?” Diego asked, turning towards his brother.

“I did what I had to in order to get my family home,” he grumbled, “until someone reneged on our deal!”

“Somebody wouldn’t have reneged on our deal if somebody else could have met a simple deadline,” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders, “alas.”

“YOU SET ME UP TO FAIL!”

“You set yourself up to fail, friend!” she replied quickly, “you and your brothers and sisters. It’s kind of the running theme of your little life, isn’t it? Thankfully, one of your sisters was smart enough to join the right side, and stay there!”

“Dude I can’t believe you are the one that killed the board of directors,” Diego called to five, “you have no idea how messed up the commission is right now!”

“Messed up?” the handler asked, “who’s saying that?”

“Everybody! Christ, even the janitors think it’s going to shit!”

“That’s not all he killed!” Lila said angrily, upset that the conversation had devolved into nothing more than the lot of them bullshitting.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb you pre-pubescent piece of shit!”

“Enough!” The handler proclaimed, “the point is that all of you are going to die today, hmm?”

“Oh, well I don’t like your chances,” Diego chuckled, “seven of us. Three of you!”

“You know what, you’re right,” the handler smirked, snapping her fingers, “let’s change that, shall we?”

In the instant that she had begun snapping her fingers zapping was heard, and agents started appearing, filling the field behind them, until there was nearly an army.

Every agent in the field.

Diego looked nervously to his brother, “so what do we do now?”

“Well we’ve got two choices,” five admitted, “fight right now and die or run and die later. Either way, we’re food for worms.”

“Preference?”

“Wouldn’t mind a few more minutes breathing air through the old windbags!”

“Alright, let’s get this over with, shall we?” the handler said, rolling her eyes. She lifted up a bright red handkerchief. Five’s eyes went wide.

“Run!”

She dropped it, and Diego and Five bolted. The agents started shooting, and chasing after the two Hargreeves. They managed to hide behind a hay bale before Vanya came out, wrapped in her power. She floated over the field, and with a single burst of her energy, she sent the agents flying back to the ground, killing them instantly.

But what caught the siblings eyes was the small blue-white bubble that had encased Lila, Dot, and the handler. Lila and Dot dropped one another’s hands and the forcefield fell.

“Show them what you can do, honey!” the handler encouraged, looking to Lila. She smiled, imitating Vanya’s powers, floating into the air. With another singular burst, she sent each of the Hargreeves siblings flying off in different directions; her attention caught solely on number five as she followed after him.

“Dot…stay with me!” the handler said firmly, before stalking towards the barn.

Chapter 8

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lottiebagley · 3 years

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Have you ever been in love? - Cedric Diggory

The Diggory family had lived next door to her family since she moved house when she was only 4. He had been in his garden on a kids broom, his parents sat on the patio in front of the grass watching him play, when the new next door neighbours had burst into their garden.

It was like life itself injected into the small and quiet village. Twin boys, maybe 7 or 8 with loud laughs and boisterous attitudes. A young girl who had a desperation to keep up with her brothers running out after them.

The parents had talked over the fence and Amos invited the family over for dinner, insisting that after the stress of the move they shouldn't be cooking.

The daughter ended up being only 2 months younger than Cedric and immediately they were joint at the hip.

They grew up together. Swimming in the lake in hot summers, cuddled up under blankets whilst drinking hot chocolate at Christmas. They made promises of a lifelong friendship in the small village and neither had any intent to break it.

The boy was the epitome of kindness. He was caring and sweet. Always patient with her when she got into stupid situations and loyal as they come.

She was just different enough it worked. With two older brothers who she always wanted to impress she was brave, some would say to the point it was stupid. She could be reckless but she was also passionate. If she cared she would do anything for someone and she really, really, cared about her best friend.

It was no shock that they were placed in different houses. It was also no shock to anyone that knew them that they stayed best friends. Joint at the hip.

He grounded her and cared when she felt like no one else would.

She stood right by his side through anything.

It was natural. The love that blossomed in her heart. He had grown up to be an attractive boy. With perfectly tousled hair and a tall stature. Milky skin with bright eyes and a sharp jaw. But he was more than that to her.

He was warm smiles and easy laughs. He was her rock. The one thing she could always rely on. Of course she fell for him. Fell hard. It was only ever natural.

"Ced!" Her voice sounds through the hall, she leaves the Weasley twins' side, they were her closest friends in her own house.

He can't help the wide smile on his face when he turns to see her jogging down the corridor to catch up to him. His dorm mates rolling their eyes and calling him whipped jokingly before continuing on their way to breakfast. Leaving him to be with his best friend.

"Morning love," he grins down at her when she reaches his side, his arms wrapping around her. She can't help the blush on her cheeks at the pet name. "You sleep well?" He asks, his arm stays tightly wrapped around her as they walk to the hall.

"I slept okay. Angelina has a cold so she was snoring which kept me up a bit," the girl admits. Rolling her eyes when she sees the worry over taking her best friends features.

"You should have just come and slept in with me," he reprimands gently

"Oh yes Mr. Prefect, let me just break those school rules with you," she teases

"Since when did you care for the school rules?"

"I don't want to bring you down with me,"

"Ah. But you're the only one I would let drag me down," he laughs

"Seems like your reputation will stay crystal clean then,"

"You're a pretty bad bad influence," he chuckles giving her a tight squeeze "I mean it though. I never mind you staying in my bed," he smiles lightly.

"Thanks Ced," she grins. They arrive at the hall and she drags him to eat breakfast with her at the Gryffindor table. He pretends to protest, knowing she will never let him actually not come. The love-struck grin on his face lets everyone near the pair know that he could never say no. Even if he wanted too.

The pair talk easily over their breakfast, playing footsie under the table like it's a thing all friends do. He makes sure she's eating a balanced breakfast and she laughs calling him a mother hen. Both of them mistake the love in the others eyes to be platonic.

"Sorry love birds but y/n we have to get going. We have Herbology," George smiles down at the girl waiting patiently for her. Trying not laugh at the bright flush overtaking both their features at the name.

"I'll see you in divination?" She asks the Hufflepuff in front of her.

"See you there love," he grins. She smiles pressing a kiss to his cheek over the table. Before flouncing out of the hall with George.

If she had looked back she would have seen the smile he can't wipe off his face. The way his hand subconsciously touches his cheek. The way he laughs at himself quietly. You got it bad Diggory. He can't get the thought out of his house as he watches her laughing figure turn round the corner.

"You're playing with fire you know," George mutters to the girl as they stand working on a mandrake in a tucked away corner.

"What on earth are you talking about Georgie? You must have inhaled some fumes," she jokes

"Flirting with Pretty boy Diggory. You're only going to get yourself hurt if you are with him all the time and don't tell him you feel," he states "I mean you're clearly in love," he adds on the end, laughing when her face turns beat red.

Y/n sits with Cedric in the library. It's late, the library will close within the hour, and a Friday night. Most students are having a night off and relaxing but the girl had vowed to finish all her homework by midday on Saturday, freeing up all day Sunday to spend with Cedric.

He had asked in divination if she would like to sneak into the Hufflepuff common room, something not uncommon for her, and join him and some of his friends in a games night. She had politely declined, too embarrassed to say the reason she wanted to get all her work done tonight, instead telling her friend she was behind.

Ever the good friend, he had decided to join her in the library. With their OWLs being at the end of the academic year their was always work he could be doing. He would rather be studying with her than having fun without her in any case.

He's noticed she's been distracted ever since breakfast. Arriving in their shared second lesson and slipping into a seat next to him, in some form of trance, lost in her own thoughts. He wishes he knew what it was making his best friend so stressed. Wished he could help.

"Ced?" She questions into the silent room. Looking up to see her friend peer at her from behind the book he's copying notes from.

"Yeah?" He replies, placing his quill down and smiling gently to her.

"Have you ever been in love?" She asks.

See it wasn't the idea of it being dangerous to be close to the boy she was crushing on. She knew that. Knew she was setting herself up for a heart break. It was the word love. Was she in love?

"Yes," he answers without a doubt. No question in his mind. He was in love with the scared looking girl in front of him. He had never seen her look scared before.

"Really?" She questions mouth agape. She tries so hard to ignore the ache in her chest. The feeling of her heart splintering. The way her whole world crashes down. "How did it feel?"

He is worried. Who did she think she might be in love with? The pair are practically inseparable. What boy had captured her heart whilst he had sat next to her blissfully unaware she was being snatched from him?

"It feels nice. Like home," he starts. He's nothing if he's not honest. He prides himself on that. He will help his friend through what she's feeling, he would always help her. "She's the only girl I ever want to see. Only person I ever want to see. I wake up and she's my first thought. If she's okay? If she slept well? When I'll see her?" He admits.

She nods. That fits. He is always her first thought.

"I don't stop thinking about her all day. She just occupies my head without even trying. Anytime I hear a joke I think of her laugh. When something upsets me if vision her hugging me to cheer up. When I'm in the same room as her I can't pull my eyes away," he continues.

That fits. Doesn't she always turn to see if he's laughing at a joke? Always relies on him no matter what.

"She's the first person I tell when anything happens in my life,"

That one hurts a bit. That there's some girl out there finding out the ins and outs of Cedric before she does.

"I would do anything for her. Break any rule. I'd move earth if she asked. All I have to do is vision that smile and I'm putty in her hands," he finishes.

It all fits. And it hits her like a ton of bricks. She's in love with Cedric.

"Have you?" He asks. Trying so hard to swallow his jealousy. Maybe it one of the twins. He could come to accept that. They're good to her. They would be worthy of being her first love, stealing the title he has been dreaming of since they were 11 and she broke into the hospital wing in the middle of the night to check on him.

"I think I might be," she admits. Not looking at him. It's even harder to hear than he had imagined.

"Really? Who?" He asks. God why is he torturing himself? He feels helpless. The last thing he wants is to hear and yet he just has to know.

"I don't want to tell you. It's silly," she whispers.

"If there's a boy on this planet who could have you and would choose not to then he is stupid. If he's stupid you don't want him in the first place," he's never been so sincere. What boy could ever say no to her?

"He's not. He's beautiful. And he's kind. And he's smart. I know he loves me. I just-well- I think it's platonic," she admits. There's something about how she says it. About how she's looking at him that makes hope spark in his chest. He squishes it down. This is painful enough without letting himself think it could ever be him.

He doesn't say anything. Doesn't know how to form words. Doesn't know what he can say that won't let her know she's just broken his heart.

She doesn't say anything. She is so certain he knows she's talking about him, that she'd made it so clear. And kind, sweet Cedric is trying to think of a nice way to reject her.

"We don't have to do this. You don't have to say anything," she whispers. Gathering her books grabbing her bag. "Night Ced," she tries so hard to smile but there's tears pooling in her eyes as she slips out of the door.

His heart snaps. Grabbing his own bag and leaving the book on the table chasing her through the quiet corridors.

"Love, just wait, hold up. Just-" he calls out for her. She stops in her tracks. She can never bring herself to walk away from him.

She blinks rapidly before turning around, the moon shining through the window the only thing lighting the pair. He can't help but think how ethereal she looks, the moon illuminating her.

"What's going on?" He asks, hands holding her arms, rubbing gently with his thumb in an attempt to comfort her. Heart breaking at the tear dripping down her cheek.

"Look Ced, you don't have to. Yknow- say it. We will be fine. Just- I need a bit of space. Not for long- just- just for a bit," she steps out of his hands. She can't let him comfort her right now. Not when she's so in love and only just realised. Not when he's breaking her heart.

He is confused now. Why they would need space. Why she doesn't want him to say anything. It all falls into place and he struggles to say it. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's his desperation causing him to see things that aren't there.

"Who are you in love with?" He whispers. Scared to talk any louder.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" She questions, trying to bite back the sob "I just- if you're going to force me to hear you reject me you don't have to make me say it," she whispers. Refusing to look at him.

His heart explodes. He's in front of her in two steps. One arm wrapping around her form keeping her there. The other hand cupping her cheek, the thumb reaching out to dry a tear.

"I've been practicing asking you out in my mirror since I was 13," he admits. Her eyes widen in shock before he presses his lips to hers. Kissing her with so much passion and desire that there's no doubt in her mind. He feels the same.

She's desperate for more. Kissing back with as much fervour. Grabbing at his school shirt to pull him closer, impossibly close. She can feel him everywhere as her hands squeeze the fabric. His arms hugging her whilst he kisses. They pull apart panting.

"Can I take you on a date?" He smiles "I wanna do this properly," he admits, if it was anyone else he would feel shy. Not with her.

"Sunday?" She asks, she couldn't be more glad she had cleared the day. He nods a beam on his face.

"I know you want to this properly and I do too. But please tell me we get to kiss again before the first date," she smiles, he chuckles

"Whatever you want love," he grins, his lips pressing a gentle kiss on hers now.

"Love?" She whispers against his lips. He's called her it forever but it means something so different now.

"I love you," he states. No one can ever question it, not when he says it with that much confidence,

"I love you," she repeats. "Merlin, we really have done this in the wrong order," she laughs

"Whoever said proper had to be what everyone else does," he smiles back.

He's right of course. It was just right. It was them.

Masterlist

#cedric diggory #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x y/n #cedric diggory x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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By the king’s hand 🐍 V

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, slight oral, handjob/fingering, degradation)

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You leave the capital but you can’t break away from your keeper.

Note: Hopefully I can work on my masterlist updates today! So keep an eye out on @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The king hadn’t been gone long before your departure was set and the palace set to readying the horses and their riders. Loki presented you with a maid’s dress and apron and had you dress the part for the journey to his brother’s manor of Thunder Lodge.

“Keep your head down,” he bid as you changed, “If any should wonder why you are unfamiliar, you will explain that you have recently been re-allocated among the staff. When we do arrive, if any do question your duties, you will say you tend to one of the lords.”

There were a dozen servants in the cart with you, packed in among chests and other luggage. As you rocked with its motion, you could see him and hear his voice still.

“Do not mention me. Once all is settled, you will join me and remain in my chambers until we return to the road.” He fixed his hair in the glass as he spoke. He was agitated as he continued to find ways to keep his hands busy. “And at last, I might show you truly the extent of your sentence.”

You squeezed your thighs together as you pressed yourself to the side of the cart. You could remember so clearly the way his tongue felt and that joyous flame which had overtaken our core. It made you sweat to think on it and his promises of more only added to your unwanted fervour. Your spite was splintered by your sinful want.

The secrecy made it feel worse. It assured you that it was wrong. Certainly, a bed warmer was not unheard of, mistresses far more common, but Loki’s insistence upon deception made you anxious. Perhaps, it added to his amusement. Or perhaps he was ashamed to lay with a commoner. It truly didn’t matter so you pondered little on his whims.

Camp was made just after dark. The moon beamed down on the party and you slept among the staff and the horses. You didn’t expect Loki to call for you nor were you disappointed. Yet you thought of him. You couldn’t shake him.

Even as you thought of sneaking away, he lingered in your mind. He warned you that you would not go unobserved and you hadn’t. You noticed the guard and how he stayed close to the servants’ cart. His grey eyes as they found you amid the bunch. He was one of esteemed warriors assigned to the king’s personal guard and yet he wore the mail of the common palace sentinel. You both wore disguises and both knew each other to be interlopers.

The party rose with the sun. It wasn’t long before you were in the cart again. You dozed for some minutes but woke as you were jostled roughly. You watched the winding path and the trees peter out to tall grasses and fields of yellow, blue, and red petals.

Your vision streaked as your head spun; something about this trip made you anxious, not that you had felt anything but in the last days. There was a foreboding deep in your stomach and it had you fidgeting as sweat beaded under the collar of your dress.

You had never been far from the capital, you never had the reason or the means. You were further then than you had ever been. The great stone pillars of Hammers Bough rose around you and opened up to the city that marked the threshold of Thunder Lodge.

The oldest of the royal houses, Thunder Lodge was an implacable fortress said to be built on the will of the gods. It had once been the capital until a great storm swept in from the sea and flooded out the city. It had since been rebuilt but the royals and their court had since moved to the current capital of Starseed.

The gates of the royal abode were open as the king’s retinue approached and within, silks hung from the walls bearing the crest of the major houses of the realm. The sky was dimming as the sun began its decline and the August afternoon began to cool. The progression had made good time on the road but still with little time to prepare for the next day’s events.

At the rear of the train, you peered past the horses and the nobles and their carriages as a booming voice broke over the din. The blonde prince greeted his dark-haired brother before he could dismount and nearly pulled him from his saddle with his gruff handshake. Loki righted himself and slid down to his feet. The two men were similar in height, though Thor was twice as broad.

As the lords and their wives, daughters, and sons, began to deploy, you lost sight of the sons of Odin. You were forced from your haze by the servant next to you and you hopped down from the cart as the others began to unload the chests. You joined them, straining beneath the great weight as your skirts bunched between your legs with each bend.

You wiped your dusty hands on your apron as you caught your breath and readied to care a heavy chest up through the servants’ doors with another girl in brown wool. You paused as you caught the eye of the covert guard. He fingered the pommel of his sword as he squinted at you. The dented armor of his disguise did little to disassemble his stature.

You grabbed the leather handle of the chest and heaved it from the dirt. You followed the other girl along the line of servants to the doors. Inside, the resident staff directed the visitors and instructed them according to their master. The servants who had no specific liege, were to remain in the kitchens.

You let the other girl, Hanna, take the lead and left the chest in Lady Ulna’s chambers. You returned to the lower floors and exited through the same doors. Slowly, the toil was thinning as the nobles were welcomed through the front doors.

As you neared the cart, you were caught by your arm and thrust behind it. The armored guard shoved you against the wood as his hand returned to his sword.

“Stay,” he snarled. “Can’t have you getting lost.”

You stared up at him. A dark haired man with broad shoulders and a thick beard beneath his helm. He was similar to Thor in build, perhaps bigger.

“He thinks I will run?”

“He knows you to be a trespasser,” the man shrugged, “It is not beyond you to stray.”

“And you think I could outpace you?” You scoffed. “I haven’t tried upon this journey.”

“There has been little opportunity to do thus and I assure you, you wouldn’t make it two steps beyond my grasp, girl,” he glanced around and watched the other servants. “The king has assigned you as my personal duty. It is not what I’d prefer but I have always served well and you would not stain my reputation.”

You said nothing and crossed your arms as you leaned against the cart. He felt around at his belt and dug out a strip of dried meat from a leather pouch. He chewed and grumbled as the din of voices faded beyond the tall door of the palace and the servants went about their labor.

“Alright, best have you away,” he made to grab you again and you drew away.

“I can follow,” you assured him, “You don’t need to drag me.”

His nostrils flared and he shook his head. “I should like to,” he muttered but didn’t try again as he waved you back down to the servants doors.

Within, he asked a scullery where the king would be lodged and nodded at her directions. He continued on, prodding you back into step and strayed away from the path of other servants.

“She said the other way,” you intoned.

“I know my way,” he growled, “Now, quiet, girl.”

He led you up a winding staircase wordlessly, trailing behind you in his armour. When you reached the top, he ducked through the low archway and led you through the maze like corridors until he happened upon the more lively passages. A pair of doors was open as the guard approached the boy Hal who stood by the frame.

“Magnus,” Hal’s voice cracked as he saw the guard and his eyes peeked at you.

“The king does not want any suspicion. Keep her hidden in the bedchamber as the luggage is unloaded. I will be close.” He nudged you forward. “Hurry, before she is noticed.”

Hal nodded and waved you within. The boy was terrified of the much larger guard and you couldn’t blame him. You stepped through the doors as the servant scurried to open the bedchamber doors. Magnus lingered by the entrance as his armor clinked against the stone.

“Please, miss, the king would be unhappy if you are discovered.” Hal warned. “You must remain and keep quiet.”

You wondered at why such caution was being taken but merely nodded. The boy was only doing his duty and he was surrounded by cruel men. You walked the perimeter of the bedchamber and turned back to him.

“We both know the king to be mean-hearted,” you said, “I will do as you say.”

“I must close the doors,” he said as he retreated.

You tilted your head and spun back. You went to the window as the doors shut with a click. You gazed out from behind the silk drapes and that same stone set in your heart. A foreign prison was no less a trap.

🐍

When the servants finished their work, Hal knocked and asked after you. He was a kind boy, not very talkative, and nearly completely silent in the presence of the king. You affirmed that you were as well as you could be and he left to return with a plate for your supper. You sat at the small round table in the bedchamber as he set down the covered dish.

“What duties await you now?” you asked.

He blanched and blinked. He lowered his head as his muddy brown hair fell over his forehead. “I will wait for the king.”

“Will you sit with me?”

He raised his head and gaped at you. “I don’t-- I don’t know that it is permitted.”

“You are not allowed to speak with me?”

“The king has never said it but I do not… speak with many.” He confessed.

“Oh,” you lifted the lid of the plate, “Well, there is very much food here and I have a small stomach. I will need someone to share with and I must admit, I am lonely for company.”

“I don’t know,” he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“I will take the blame for it, if the king is displeased.” You offered, “What good does it do you sitting in the next room alone?”

His brows drew together and he looked around. Cautiously, he pulled out the other chair and sat. You pushed the plate to the middle of the table and took a chunk of cheese. He shyly took a slice of the thick bread and bit into it. You could see he was nervous. You caught his eyes on you several times and a blush upon his cheeks.

“I’m not a whore,” you said sharply. “The king might put me in the position but… I am just a woman.”

“I didn’t--”

“Well, we both know why I am here but I can’t bear you looking at me so.” You reproached. “I used to make pots and the like. I worked in a shop. I suspect I am little different than you.”

“The king says you are a criminal,” Hal nibbled between words.

“Well, in a sense, yes,” you tapped the table with your fingertips, “I ventured onto castle grounds without permission but it is no great crime.” You bent your arm on the wood and cupped your chin. “Does the king say anything else of me?”

“Not to me,” Hal took a carrot from the plate, “He commands me, that is all.”

“As he does me.” You sat up, “We are both bound to his will.”

The boy glanced away guiltily. “I don’t think you a whore. I’m sorry.”

“It is fine,” you assured him, “I am not offended. I would not share my plate if I was.”

He chewed for a time and took another morsel from the plate. Finally, he dared to look at you again.

“I’ve heard him… hurt you.” Hal said quietly, “You shouldn’t goad him so.”

You chuckled and took a deep breath. “It is not hard to do so.”

“But if you were more amenable--”

“You are young. You can’t understand,” you wiped your hands on your apron, “But my resistance is all I have. And there is nothing the king can offer me but pain, so I’d rather meet it with gull than grace.”

Hal frowned. He thought but only looked more confused. He sniffed and shifted in his seat.

“I should go prepare for the king,” he stood, “He is of little patience when his brother is near.”

“Alright,” you sat back, “I will not mention this to him.”

“Thank you,” Hal neared the door and paused as he looked back. He smiled before he ducked into the receiving chamber and your lips curved slightly in kind. Then his words settled in your mind, ‘prepare for the king’. You would have to deal with Loki eventually.

🐍

The door slammed and had you rigid. You spent the hours since your arrival pacing the room and watching through the window. Hal appeared once more to clear your plate but didn’t say much as he returned to the task of unpacking the king’s luggage.

You heard Loki’s voice from the receiving chamber and you went to the bedroom door. You peered through as he swayed on his feet and Hal struggled to unclasp his cap from his shoulders. The king was barely aware of the boy as he drunkenly smiled at the walls.

Finally, Hal freed the length of green silk and hung it. The king staggered forward and caught himself against the settee. His eyes flicked up and caught yours. He smirked and stood straight. He raised a finger.

“Boy, you can go. I trust I can tend to myself tonight,” Loki declared, “And I have help should I require it.”

Hal bowed his head with a quiet ‘your majesty’. He peeked over at you as he went to the door. He reluctantly left you and the door closed gently in his stead. The king ambled forward and reached out for you as he stumbled. You could only catch him as he threatened to topple.

“Look at you, mouse,” he slurred, “Dressed as a maid. How silly!”

He leaned on you heavily and too afraid to drop him, you turned and angled him into the bedroom. His arms fell down your back and he squeezed your ass through the layers of wool and linen. You grimaced and managed to get him onto one of the chairs. He sat sideways and slumped against the back with an arm bent over the top.

He hiccupped and pushed his legs apart. He swung his leg as he looked at you and hummed.

“Do take off that ridiculous attire,” he slithered, “You will serve me but I expect more than a dusting.”

You stared at him and hesitated. You touched the apron across your front and he sat up and snapped his fingers.

“I am your king!” He proclaimed. “I have bid you undress for me, wench!”

He slapped his thigh and you flinched. You reached back and untied the apron. You turned and tossed it over the low bench against the wall. You undid the straps of your smock and shimmied out of the skirt. You left it atop the apron and removed the long white linen underdress. Your shift slipped easily down your figure as you spun back to him and raised your chin.

You slid your feet from your slippers and rolled down the stockings. You stood naked and glared at him as he admired you. Your crossed your arms as his gaze made you shiver and he grabbed onto the chair as he nearly fell over.

“Here,” he waved you forward with two fingers, “Get me out of this...” he pushed himself to his feet with effort, “Shit!”

His voice warbled between quiet and loud as the alcohol made him clumsy. You crossed to him and his hands clapped your shoulders as he held himself up. You looked up at him as he leaned dangerously and reached up to unbutton the high collar of his overcoat. His hands fluttered up your neck and cradled your face.

He bent and his nose touched yours. He smiled and swayed you with him.

“You’re mad at me.” He sang. “I do love it when you sneer so.”

“I’m not mad,” you worked down the front of his jacket, “You need to stand straight so I can get this off.”

“I can hear it in your voice,” he stood and let his arms drop so you could push the brocade down them. “Or perhaps you are impatient. You wish a repeat of our last meeting.” He snickered, “Does your cunt ache for me?”

You tore his coat off entirely and strode away to hang it over a chair. When you returned to him, he bent for you to remove his tunic and his hands grazed you sides.

“I did expect a slap for that one,” he taunted, “I will only have to try harder…” He looked down, “Speaking of hard.”

His trousers tented as you unlaced them. He sat for you to slide his boots off with his socks and stood again as you pushed his leggings down. His erect member was hard to ignore as he was completely naked and unstable. You looked him in the face and narrowed your eyes.

“I am not angry at you because I despise you already,” you said, “It is hatred you feel from me.”

He chuckled and pulled you to him, his arms around your waist as he pressed himself to you.

“You hate what I make you feel because you are too proud to admit that you want me,” he purred, “And too afraid of what you’ve never known.”

“Oh, let go of me, you drunken fool,” you pushed on his arms. “You are like to have us both on the floor.”

He winked and slapped your ass again. He drew away but took your hand as he did. He neared the bed and sloppily snuffed the lamp with a blow. The chamber was dark as he flopped onto the mattress and dragged you down beside him. You snarled as he rolled you against him and stretched your arm across him. His other hand danced over the scars along your back.

“I am drunk,” he admitted and played with your hand, “I had to imbibe to bear my brother’s nonsense.” He guided your hand down and closed it around his cock. “And I do require a release as I find myself riled.”

You gripped him but did not move your hand as his fell away. You breathed darkly over his chest and his other arm hugged you tighter.

“Would you rather your mouth?” He taunted, he slipped his arm beneath yours and turned his body slightly, “Or you do long for reciprocity?”

He pushed his fingers between your legs and found your bud. You squeezed your thighs against him and he rubbed you roughly.

“Go on, don’t just hold it,” he hissed as toyed with you.

Slowly, you moved your hand up and down his length. Your legs twitched as your cunt slickened beneath his touch. He explored your folds as he held you to him and you stroked him almost without thought. Your hand kept time with him as he lured you to the edge and dangled you there. His breath smelled of wine as his grazed your skin and he pressed his nose against your hair.

“Come on,” he whispered, “Almost there.”

He shoved his hand between your legs and felt along your entrance. He pushed a finger inside and you gasped. Your rhythm faltered but he urged you on with a groan. You were too overwhelmed to stop. That unearthly delight began to gather in your loins, deeper as he slid another finger into and rocked his hand against your clit.

You rasped, then moaned, and felt his body begin to quake. The noise of your wet cunt underlined your heady pants and he had you on your back as he turned onto his side and kept you against him. Your legs splayed open around his hand and your eyes lolled back in your head.

You exclaimed as your walls clenched his fingers and you came. He climaxed in quick succession as warmth seeped down your palm and coated his member. He spasmed and pulled away from you as he grew overly sensitive but kept his fingers inside of you. He stilled his hand and sunk to his knuckles as he explored your depths.

“I can only imagine how you’ll feel around my cock,” he said. “But I should like to remember the first.”

He slipped his hand away from your cunt and sighed as he rolled onto his back. He lifted his fingers to his lips and licked them. He purred and sucked them clean before trailing down to his pelvis. He tutted.

“I am a mess,” he said, “You’ve made a mess of me.”

You sat up, trembling and turned to climb off the bed. “I will fetch a cloth then--”

“You will not,” he grabbed your arm as you held your wet hand aloft. “You will clean me up yourself.”

“Wha--”

“Your mouth,” he pushed your hand towards your face. “Taste me.”

You stared at the silhouette of your hand in horror. You hoped he could not see your face. You gulped and brought your hand to your lips. You touched your finger with the tip of your tongue and reluctantly dragged it over your skin. He released you and pushed himself up on his elbows as he watched you in the dim.

One, two, three, four fingers and your thumb. You lowered your hand in shame and he nodded at his loins. You stifled a grumble and bent over him. His cum had cooled and was sticky as you closed your eyes to the revolting task. He groaned as you tried not to hear him and when you finished, he pet your head like an obedient dog.

“Ah,” he sighed and drew you up against him once more, “I feel it. You are mad now.” He yawned and tickled your hip, “Perhaps we might take it up on the morrow.”

“You are vile,” you sneered.

He snickered and pinched your ass. “I never denied such a claim, little mouse.”

#loki #dark!loki #dark loki #loki x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #mcu #marvel #thor #by the king's hand #series #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #king!loki

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Shackles 10: Beasts

[part 9]

“You know I’m really getting tired of walking through hot rocky deserts.”

“Yang, you’re the last person I want to hear complain about the heat.” Ilia grunted. “Just be thankful we aren’t in Menagerie.”

“We marched through it yesterday for a couple days.”

“Oh….well then stop complaining! Dawn has barely broke and Vacou is marginally less hot. These two know what I’m talking about.”

Blake and Jacquelyn remained silent. Both were lost in thought, mentally preparing for what was ahead. Ilia clicked her tongue. She looked at the spot marked on her map to make sure she hadn’t messed up the directions.

Blake could hear her teammate’s heartbeats as they walked. Jacquelyn might’ve been quiet but her heartbeat was faster than a hummingbird. Yang’s beat like a steady drum while Ilia’s, well, it was actually calm. Not a beat of worry. Blake was envious.

“What I wouldn’t give to be calm like you.”

Ilia looked back at her briefly before looking onward. “There’s nothing you have to give. Last time I checked we were taught to be calm by the same person. Though I guess…it was more of a quiet rage. He had that in common with my parents.”

“Has.” Jacquelyn corrected. “And I wouldn’t say his rage was quiet. Sometimes it felt like he could only scream into the wind.”

Yang raised her brow. “Wasn't that annoying? Concerning even?”

“Rage doesn’t do well bottled up. Should I have been concerned and annoyed when you yelled at me?”

“I…that is…” Yang sighed, giving up on a response.

“Rage like this can’t be solved immediately with wimpy meditation practices or a stress ball. Better to shout in a nameless desert than to go around breaking things. Anyways, that hasn’t happened in awhile. Adam has been lost in thought lately more than anything. Now that’s concerning. Being alone with your thoughts is risky business. I’m sure we all agree on that.”

Ilia stopped walking as she made it over a dune. “I don’t know. Thoughts are probably the best thing in a place like that.” She points down towards a lone rock plateau with a tattered wooden mineshaft entrance.that’s blocked by debris. “We made it.” Blake and Jacquelyn said nothing as they began walking ahead of her. Small talk was over.

Yang took a deep breath. She was never one to be nervous about situations like these. Being a huntress meant you saw some disturbing things by nature, but that didn’t stop the air itself from feeling dead. Blake described the scent as a slaughter house earlier. Somehow, Yang could tell she was right. “We ready for this? Who knows what is waiting for us inside.”

“Ready as we’ll ever be. Ilia will stand guard outside. We don’t want them knowing our numbers fully or any backup arriving. You and Jacquelyn back me up while I take the lead.”

“Works for me. But…” Yang approached the entrance and pressed up against a support beam, widening the entrance as debris crumbled out of the way. “That’s better. I’d rather have a quick escape instead of a squeeze through when things get loud, because it’s definitely going to.”

Blake smiled. “Quiet was never your thing anyways, but remember, this is a dust mine. Dried up or not, let’s not shoot anything immediately.” Blake walked in with her swords ready. Jacquelyn followed second with Wilted Rose on her hip.

Yang gave Ilia a wink before following the other two. The shaft didn’t take long before it started sloping down into darkness. A problem for anyone not hanging out with a faunus with great eyesight, or a girl whose hair glows like a torch on command. Normally that would be a benefit, but it made things all the more uneasy for Yang.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too dark in here? I mean…I don’t think the guards themselves could see; unless…” she trailed off. Breaking their focus was the last thing she wanted, but Yang was certain they already knew. Step by step the cave expanded. Water dripped down to the pools below. Faint clinging metal grew louder while Yang’s light revealed rusted cell bars, chains, and mining tools. A thick, potent odor hung in the air so intensely that it made swallowing difficult.

“Don’t look inside, not yet.” Jacquelyn uttered, holding back her gagging.

Blake marched forward. “Smell getting to you?”

“It’s not the stench that makes me want to hurl.”

At last they reached the end of the holding area to reach another passageway. Light curved through it and Blake’s pace slowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hear people. Dozens of them. Workers and…the rest.”

Jacquelyn’s eyes glowed. “Then what are we waiting f-”

“They aren’t moving. Everyone’s just…” Blake approached cautiously, crouched and weary. A knot festered deep inside her. Tears she restrained kept fighting to the surface the closer she got to turning the corner until Blake finally came around. In front of her was the main area. Faunus of every kind stuffed into this giant chasm. Men, women, and children bound in shackles all over the place while guards over watched them; yet nobody was working. They all were watching a man on a platform make another example of the very person that brought them here. Without thinking, Blake spoke.

“A-Adam…?” She said barely above a whisper, yet all heard her in the deathly quiet chamber.

Guards and prisoners alike turned to her in surprise. Jacquelyn and Yang came in soon after with their own look of shock at what they were witnessing. Tired, dread, shock, pain, terror, rage, lifelessness; so many expressions stared at the three from the prisoners who cowarded and guards that pulled weapons.

“Halt. Let’s not be too hasty.” Sobek said, turning around to view his arrival. They couldn’t help but notice his white lab coat stained in red that matches the curved knife he currently wiped on his sleeve. “My goodness. Well isn’t this quite the surprise. I should’ve known catching a big fish and the fact some of my men hadn't returned in a while meant someone was gonna come knocking on my door, but my wildest dreams didn’t think it would be you. Ms. Blake Belladonna, welcome to Purgatory. I’d shake your hand but…” he grabbed Adam by the hair to lift his battered face, but that was tame compared to the gashes and massive bruises that riddled his body in red and purple. “I’ve been pretty busy.” He lit Adam’s head droop limply again.

Overwhelmed, neither Blake or Jacquelyn could speak. The two had yet to shake the shock of it all. As for Yang, she chose to break formation and get in front of both of them. “Why?” That’s all she could ask. That’s all there was to ask. Yang was so caught up by the horrific sight before her that she failed to realize her eyes had long abandoned their lilac color.

Sobek smiled at her. “What’s this, a human? Well I suppose wonders never cease. Caring humans do exist but to find one here is both shocking and unfortunate. You see these monsters before you aren’t worth your compassion. Every last one of them are affiliated and conspired with the very group that poisons the world you and I cherish.”

“That does not answer the question! Why the hell are you hunting people?”

“Animals! How many times do I-” He took a breath, composing himself. “These animals do nothing but spread misery, breed hate. They teach it to their vermin and drag the good faunus through the mud! Just like they did with my daughters! The White Fang aren’t faunus. They’re animals that need to be tamed; and the ones that can’t get put down! The High Leader understands.”

Blake tensed up. All eyes shifted to her and her alone.

“It was faunus like you that showed the rotten parts. The posers and liars that threatened good names. You yourself waged war against the splinter cell this filth-”

“Let him go.” Blake finally spoke. Her voice trembled. The taste of iron hit her mouth as her teeth clenched and pupils constricted. “Let them all go, right now!” She yelled.

The charisma the man held faded. “Excuse me? S…Surely you’re not defending them?”

“And why wouldn’t I!? This…it’s sick. In what right mind does any of this make sense? All you’re doing is hurting people.”

“They get what they deserve.”

“AND WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE!?” Blake could feel her blood boil. Her nail pierced skin and she could feel her heart pound. “I don’t give a damn what your reasons are. I don’t care if anyone in here took lives. This is not how things work. You don’t get to decide others' lives, especially after this!”

“You stand here before me and defend the likes of Adam Taurus, terrorist?”

“I defend life.” Blake pointed her sword towards the man. “I defend change, no matter how bleak!”

“……I see. So you're a beast after all. Then mourn for them.” Sobek withdrew his hospitality, and then snapped his fingers. The guards took their weapons, then went for the prisoners to immediately beat, stab, and shoot whoever.

Yang wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Before she could even act, Blake had let out a scream of pure anger, leaping through the air to Sobek while a trail of tears were left behind. The scientist had made a mad dash towards a metal down with Blake in pursuit.

“Blake!? Don’t go alo-shit!” Yang dove back into the passage they came from to avoid gunfire. “Damn it all!” Yang readied her for a shoot out when the sound of lightning rattled her ears, followed by the sound of several yells before silence returned. Yang looked out and found gunmen on the floor, Jacquelyn walking by them.

The maiden said nothing. Her goal was a simple one and if she was honest with herself, everything else was white noise at the moment. Wind lifted her up to Adam’s platform. Jacquelyn gripped the shackles that strung him up, freezing them until they shattered like glass. His body fell onto hers and she fell to her knees. The world gave Jacquelyn her fair share of tragedy, but this was too cruel to comprehend. His face was so swollen the skin was purple, his good eye swelled shut. Blood leaked and clotted all over his torso and back from stabs, gashes, shocks, and the broken bones.

“Adam?” She uttered, but no response was given. She leaned down to hear the faintest sign of breathing and a weak beating heart. What should’ve sparked hope only made her cry. They had kept him conscious through so much and now his body…

Guards begin to circle around them aim their guns. “Don’t move! Step-” the guard couldn’t even finish his demands before letting out a strained cough as the rock wall behind him shot out like a spear through him.

“I’ll kill you.” Jacquelyn lifted her head, making all the guards shake in fear of her glowing tear filled eyes. The wind picked up around her and the air began to freeze. “I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU!”

“FIRE!” The guards shot into blistering winds that cut and carved the area around their target, firing back ice and imposing the pressure of her storm to the point the entire cavern shook.

“Give me a break. So much for dust safety.” Yang ran through the area, punching and shooting unsuspecting enemies caught up in the whirlwind of dust as she made her way to prisoners; tearing apart chains and yanking them out of walls. “If you can walk then help those who can’t!” She shot falling debris from afar that nearly blocked the exit. “Hey! You’re going to bury us!” Yang’s words didn’t reach the emotional woman holding her partner. Yang looked around frantically. Guards still poured in, some tried escaping, and others ran to where Blake left. All while prisoners either ran for safety or layed dying; beyond the limit of what they could take. “C’mon, act Xiao Long. Act!”

Her feet moved without thinking. Yang didn’t know how this was going to end but if she wanted the best then she’d have to reach for it with her own hands. If that meant rushing head first into a snow storm then so be it. Her hair ignited into pure flames and her clothes kindled like dying embers. Yang lunged right into the dome of wind to grab Jacquelyn.

“Jackie, get a grip! People need us right now. We’ll all die here if this keeps up.” She put her hands on the sides of Jackie's face. “Hey hey hey, look at me.”

Jacquelyn looked Yang in the eye. “He…He’s dying.” Her hands pressed against open wounds. Fire and ice sealed and cauterized wounds but what good it did was unclear.

“Adam’s a stubborn bastard. He cheated death before and he’ll do it again.”

“But-”

“I will take care of Adam! I promise.” Yang put her hands on Jacquelyn’s. “You take care of the guards following their boss and back up Blake. I hate to say it but I don’t like my odds going through that door, so I’ll get these people out. Okay?”

“E…Even if I barrel through them all I don’t know if I can handle-”

“They’re… weak.” Adam mumbled, gaining their attention. He could barely see or move but managed to move his hands enough to grab Jackie’s. “All mutilated, barely trained; but insane. Sobek, he… Atlas.” He coughed blood.

“Adam!”

“Just…grab Blake.” His consciousness faded in and out. However, Adam managed to squeeze Jackie’s hand for reassurance before going silent.

“Well you heard the guy. Though if you do see a chance to grab the bastard…”

“Oh you don’t have to tell me twice.” Jacquelyn was hesitant but gave Adam to Yang. She finally stood up, gripping the hilt of the crimson blade on her. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” With one fluid motion she drew the blade while channeling her magic. A fierce and single slash cut through the wind; pushing it out with force that pushed everyone while the attack cut the metal door down. Jacquelyn didn’t delay any further in doing what she was asked. Yang put Adam on her back best she could. Thankfully he was able to wrap his arms over her shoulders.

“Do me a favor and don’t fall off.”

“Do me a favor and don’t get me shot.”

Yang groaned. Of all the people she had to save. Right on que, bullets flew their way. Time to head out. Yang did her best to run with the extra baggage. Adam honestly wasn’t too heavy but that wasn’t a good thing realistically. Chances are he hasn’t eaten much in days. If it wasn’t for the swelling then the man’s features would’ve been sunken in and pale. Yang can’t say she has compassion for him but she’d be hard pressed to believe she could idly watch if it happened right in front of her. Ruby would say that’s what makes her a hero. It was more frustrating in Yang’s opinion.

“For your sake I hope you’re worth all this trouble.” Yang kicked downed guards trying to get up from the wind blast to give others more time. “Well at the very least all these people are so I guess I should shut up about it.”

Adam did his best to look at the chaos. His vision couldn’t register faces but he saw how many people pushed and rushed over one another. Though one of them, he couldn’t help but think about Sobek’s words and thought process. It was twisted, outright demented, yet one part of it held true to an extent. Adam felt his ego take a hit. He led them here.

“…I got what I deserve.”

“Tsk, if you ask me you’ve only gotten a piece of it. How you get rest isn’t for me to decide, thank goodness. If I were you I’d start thinking on how-”

“Cells.” He interrupted. “Don’t leave without opening the cells.”

“Huh? Most looked empty or wore silent. No one even came up to bars.”

“A girl, Jasmine, she should be there. Brother too.”

“Dude you can’t afford many detours. I’ll try but no promise we’ll find anything. I’m telling you it was quiet. Dead quiet.” Yang felt ill saying that last part. “What kind of person does this to kids? Can’t imagine a childhood like this.”

Adam’s grip tightened. “I can.”

After a few more minutes of letting stragglers go first and looking out for danger, Yang left the cavern. Defending everyone was a Dream already killed before it could start and she promised to look after Adam so taking her time wasn’t an option. “Do you know what cell?”

“I was strung up on a platform.”

“A no would’ve been fine.” Yang started checking one at a time, punching in doors just in case. It was far too dark to see completely in them otherwise. “Uhh Jasmine? Hello?” She kept looking again and again but no one answered. Yang was about to cut her losses until she heard hissing when a prisoner bumped into a set of bars. “Jasmine?”

No one answered. Yang grabbed the bars and hissing turned to growling. There was definitely someone in there. She busted open the door and stepped in, lighting a section of the area. A gasp escaped her lips at the sight of blood soaked dirt. Pale eyes glowed in the corner. Yang stepped closer carefully until the girl could no longer hide in the dark. A maple skinned girl covered in dirt, sweat, and blood crouched low with eyes as scary as Blake’s; her teeth gritted while the volume of her growl grew louder with her soiled white ears folded back. Yang was easily in no real danger, yet the glare on her was startling. This little girl clearly was ready to kill if need be.

Yang got low. “H-Heeey. Sssshh It’s okay. I’m gonna- ah!” Yang winced. Jacquelyn lunged forward and sunk her teeth into Yang’s good hand. Yang didn’t lose composure. She reached out with her other hand, rubbing the child’s face. “Feel better? Hehe, let’s get you outta here.”

Jasmine tried biting deeper but was caught off guard by a third hand resting on her head. Her eyes widened once she realized Adam was one the woman’s back. Her jaw loosened up and the rage turned into grief.

“Jasmine, where’s-”

“Adam…?” Yang said, staring to the right. Her light didn’t reach the other side of the cell but it was enough to make a trail of blood and limp arm visible. The two went silent again. Adam pulled Jasmine closer until she climbed up on him, clinging for life as she began to whimper against his back. Yang let her hair fade out and then left, walking through the dark. She didn’t want to see another second in this place.

xxxx

Jacquelyn wasn’t much of a better time. Unlike the rest of Purgatory, everything past the medal door reminded her of Atlesian research labs. Including the defenses. Around every corner was an annoyance. Two armed guards tried getting the jump on her but were quickly outmatched. Jacquelyn froze the first with ice breath while the second tried taking a swing at her. Catching the fist, Jacquelyn twisted the guard's arm and pinned her against the wall; draining what aura she could in the process before pressing on. Jacquelyn was thankful Yang calmed her down when she did. Expending more energy like that would've been bad in her condition. Jacquelyn felt like she was running on fumes.

“I can see why my mom never gave me siblings. Gotta make this quick before I’m the one who’ll need saving.” More enemies marched from behind, forcing her to run through the sterile hallways. On the way a trail of several guards were already taken out that led to a bigger group of struggling men. Jacquelyn could make out a pissed off Blake in the middle of it all.

“LET ME GO!” Blake headbutted the one restraining her right arm and swung at the ones in front of her. A burst of strength rushed through her. She gripped the guard on her left arm, flinging them across the room. Blake swiveled around to aim at the ones behind her but Jacquelyn was quicker on the draw. Adam’s signature gun already riddled two with wounds while the blade cut down three more.

“Where’s Sobek?”

“He keeps heading deeper in.” Blake pointed at the scientist’s fallen scales and light trail of blood. “I tried taking a shot but I kept getting swarmed.” Blake noticed the pack behind Jacquelyn and tried running but was immediately grabbed by the wrist. “Jacquelyn!?”

“It’s a trap. We both know that.”

“We’ve known that from the jump. If we corner him then-” Blake and Jacquelyn shot past each other at the same time before standing back to back. Jacquelyn slammed her hand on the ground and conjured ice walls to by time. “Damnit! There’s no end!”

“Yeah…let’s retreat.”

“What!? But you’re the one-”

“I know! Believe me, I know. Honestly I want to tell you I came here to back you up but Yang offered to take Adam to safety in exchange for yours.”

Blake’s eyes widened. “Yang…offered?”

“Truth be told, I think it was more self preservation than kindness. Listen I don’t want to get blown up again but Sobek seems like the type to let it all burn when things fall apart. I told you that you’d find your answer when we arrive. Don’t tell me it was to get angry and die?”

“……” Blake shut her eyes and took a breath. It didn’t help. If anything her heart felt like it was beating faster. Pent up frustration gnawed away at her so much she couldn’t stop shaking. Her grip was so tight around Gamble Shroud her hands threatened to bleed. “What did you say earlier outside, about screaming when you’re enraged?”

Jacquelyn chuckled. “We’re well past that point. Don’t tell Adam but I think we should break some shit. Lucky for us we have volunteers. Care for a violent escape?”

Blake turned away from the path deeper into the lab and faced Jacquelyn’s direction, listening to reason. “Back me up. I’d feel guilty if your baby got hurt.”

Now that was an offer Jacquelyn couldn’t refuse. Blake’s kindness managing to shine even while in this situation was something Jacquelyn could only respect. She got behind her. “I’m in your hands. Now let’s get busy.”

Jacquelyn spit the wall in front of them to funnel the lackeys in for Blake to cut loose on with her blades, performing a double cross slash into snap kick that launched one backwards into the group. Keeping on the offensive, Blake followed up with a rising knee to push them further back. A strong gust of wind from Jacquelyn helped increase the force and distance Blake went while suppressing the rest. A guard tried restraining her but only grasped the afterimage while the real one unleashed an aura slash that went through the crowd. Deep cuts engraved the wall and glass shattered. Blake tossed her blades up and went through the halls quickly guiding Jacquelyn safely to the other side.

Pressure filled the air. A dense building of force rose steadily until Jacquelyn couldn’t ignore it. “Blake? What did you do-” the cuts in the wall doubled in size. An almost unseen second flash went through the hall, the blades traveling with it until stopping on a dime in front of Blake for her to grab from the hands of a clone Jacquelyn never saw materialize. It faded as quickly as it was noticed. One by one the guards adamant on killing were dropping like flies.

“A double moon slice? Heh, I guess you really are his disciple at heart.”

“In more ways than one.” Blake flung the blood off her blade while she sharpened them on one another.

“And why would you say that?” Blake looked back at her. The vacant and dim stare she gave expressed a bleak hollowing pain Jacquelyn couldn’t mistake. “Oh…well that’s okay. It just makes you one of us.”

#rwby #adam taurus #sobek #blake belladonna #ilia amitola #jacquelyn frost #yang xiao long #rwby shackles #rwby au

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raph-and-spike · 4 years

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Jealous (Part 1) - Leo x fem!reader

request? yes/no

“You have no idea how happy i am to find a 2k12 blog! These boys deserve much more love. If it is ok, can I have reader who has a huge crush on Leo and feels jealous everytime he interacts with Karai because she can see the way he look at her? I always wondered how having a crush on blue boy would work out since he seems so much into Karai.”

a/n: Y’all really have a thing for the leader in blue, huh? ;) I got suuuuper carried away with this, sorry it’s so long!

warnings: Angst :/

Steam had been practically coming out of your ears.

You, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph were walking into Shredder’s chemical lab building, you slightly more angry than the other three (maybe besides Raph, of course).

It started when Karai had taken over Shredder’s lair with her new witchy sidekick, making it their mission to take down the man that had lied to the kunoichi her entire life. She had been betrayed and manipulated for years, and the man covered in blades was going to pay.

You watched Leo’s eyes fill with hope as the teenager had explained her mission, hoping that she would join him and his brothers as a team. But alas, Karai wanted not only revenge, but chaos while she did so. Splinter knew this wouldn’t be a good idea, he had practically begged his daughter not to go through with it, but she brushed her true father off; she was going to end Shredder no matter what she had to do.

As you crossed your arms, watching as she exited the lair, you furrowed your eyebrows, watching the blue-masked leader follow her with his eyes. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips.

“I’m going home,” you growled. “I need some sleep.”

Mikey frowned. “Hey! I thought we were going to watch Chris Bradford together!”

You looked at him sadly. “Maybe tomorrow, Mikey. I’m sorry.”

You had to go home, and once you made it to your bedroom, you were screaming into your pillow. Why did Karai have to pour all of her problems onto the team? Why couldn’t she just be the daughter that Splinter had been missing all along? Why did Leo care so much about her?

These were all questions that made you sick to your stomach, causing you to toss and turn the entire night. You went to school the next day, exhausted, and you could barely concentrate in any of your classes. After your last class, you nearly bolted out of the school; you needed a distraction. Walking to the familiar alleyway manhole, you climbed in, following the path your legs had remembered by now until the lair came into view.

“Turtles!” you called, tossing your backpack to the couch. “Someone spar with me, now.”

Mikey turned his head, wide-eyed at your demanding voice. “I think Leo’s in the dojo already.”

You nodded, walking into the dojo to see Leo stretching.

“Hey,” you greeted, “wanna spar?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

You grabbed your weaponry whilst he got his katanas ready.

“You sure you don't want to use the cardboard weapons instead?” he asked seriously. “It might be hard to go easy on you with my actual katanas.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle it, honor boy,” you taunted with a grin.

He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but he loved it when you called him that. The way you said it made it so personal; it was his nickname, no one else’s. And despite the negative connotation Raph had given it, a man of honor was exactly what he strived to be, and it made his stomach erupt in butterflies when you recognized that.

You both circled the room, weapons at the ready.

He cocked an eyebrow, “you sure about that, Y/n?”

You grinned. “Give me your best shot.”

And with that, you began fighting. The sounds of blades slashing against each other and defensive grunts filled the room. You used the anger you’d been feeling, the jealousy that had filled you to the brim, to assist your adrenaline high, making you fight better than ever. He noticed your kicks and punches were stronger, wondering what was going on with you.

“Y/n, you know we’re just sparring, right?” he yelled as he guarded your throws. “I’m starting to think you should have chosen Raph to train with instead!”

You rolled your eyes, yelping as he caught you off guard and pinned you to the ground. Your chest heaved up and down, out of breath as your senses came back. You blushed at his figure on top of you, rolling out of his grasp that had loosened. Still on the floor, the two of you sat, catching your breaths. You pulled your knees to your chest.

“You’re going to help her defeat Shredder, aren’t you?” you spoke up quietly.

His eyes widened, surprised at your words. He slowly nodded.

You shook your head, clenching your jaw. “How come you always abandon us when Karai suddenly needs you for something, Leo?” you argued.

He turned to you. “She won’t be able to take him down without me. She needs our help, and I’m the only one willing, you know that,” he stated.

“I don’t trust her one bit; she’s manipulated us too many times, when will you realize that your family is more important than some girl?!”

“Karai is family!” he yelled, causing you to jump at the sudden raise of his voice.

You rested your chin on your knees, pulling them closer in attempt to comfort yourself. “Yet she’s chosen not to be apart of it,” you spoke, your voice barely a whisper.

He frowned, standing up. “This discussion is over.”

And with that, he left you in the dojo.

You sat in Donnie’s lab that night, spinning around in a wheel-y chair whilst he worked on upgrades for the van.

“I don’t get why he’s so hung up over Karai, you know? He’s practically feeding her grapes at this point,” you grumbled.

He chuckled at your comparison.

“He’s always been like this, if you remember when they first met,” he explained.

You chewed on your lip. “I know, but why?”

“Guys!” you heard a high-pitched yell, knowing it had to be Mikey. The two of you scurried out of the lab to see what the commotion was.

“Leo’s not in his room! What if he was taken?!” he yelped, his hands resting on his freckled cheeks in shock.

Raph rubbed the sleep out of his eyes whilst Donnie pulled his phone out, tapping away.

“His T-Phone is unresponsive, too,” Donnie frowned.

You sighed, feeling a pit in your stomach. “I know where he is– or who he’s with, rather.”

The three of you got in the van and headed to Shredder’s chemical lab building, your fists clenched.

Mikey looked at your angered form with a questioning look.

“Everything alright, dudette?”

You sighed. “Yes, Mikey,” you gave him a forced, reassuring smile. “Leo’s just a dumbass, is all.”

“You’ve got that right,” Raph grumbled next to you.

As the four of you entered the building, weapons at the ready, you noticed the building looked trashed– and empty.

“Aw, we missed the battle?” Mikey whined.

Donnie began peering over something, with an “uh oh”.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” the purple-masked turtle exclaimed, pushing the three of you to the nearest exit as he followed.

It became clear as to why he was trying to escape, once the beeping got louder.

They bombed the place.

Suddenly, the four of you were blasted, your ears ringing from the loud noise. Your body had come in contact with something incredibly hard, the pain in your head taking over your conscious. Before you knew it, you were slipping into darkness, your mind clouded with the flames of the building.

Your eyes opened, seeing Splinter and Leo towering over you. You turned your head, noticing the purple-masked turtle awakening beside you. You realized they had performed their healing mantra.

Your head was spinning, and your body ached everywhere. You scanned your body, seeing cuts and bruises scattered all over your skin.

“I am so sorry,” Leo admitted, his invisible eyebrows knitted together with worry.

You sat up with a groan, your hand immediately going to your head. Leo put a hand on your back, worried that you’d fall backward. He assisted you as you carefully got up to stand. The others left, leaving the two of you alone in the dojo.

He couldn’t bear to look at you; you looked so fragile. It broke his heart that he had done this to not only his brother, but you as well.

You watched him as he stared shamefully at the floor.

“Leo,” you spoke softly, making his deep, blue eyes finally meet yours.

“You were right, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice much quieter and softer than his usual confident and clear tone. He was embarrassed and ashamed. “I shouldn’t have went behind the team’s back to help Karai.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Donnie and I could have died if it weren’t for Splinter,” you fought, though your voice was weak.

“I know,” he admitted. “And, I’m sorry. I wish I listened to you.”

“You never listen to anyone when it comes to Karai,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

He frowned, crossing his arms. “Why does Karai upset you so much?”

Tears began to well in your eyes and your bottom lip began to tremble.

“You really want to know why, Leo?” your voice cracked. “I see the way you look at her, the way you push everything aside to assist her with whatever she desires; it tears me apart.”

His eyes softened and his green cheeks flushed. “I-I had no idea you felt that way, I’m sorry.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks and you found it hard to look him in the eye. “You can’t be sorry for how you feel.”

You couldn’t handle his rejection. You left the dojo, running as fast as your sore body could take you despite the turtles calling for you in confusion. As you escaped the sewers, you put your hands on your knees, catching your breath.

Leo stood in the dojo, alone, not sure what to do.

#tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #tmnt leo x reader

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simpz-art-stash · 3 years

Text

The Breakdown [LMK]

A moment between MKing and Fang where both finally regard each other and their relationship as father / daughter & teacher / student. Tags: LOTS OF FLUFF “Again.” A pained groan escaped Fang as she sat up on her sore butt for the upteenth time. “Can’t we take a break?...My tail hurts…” She whined. She was tired, sweaty, and not at all having any fun. “No.” MKing replied bluntly, “Get up. You’re never going to win if you stay down.” He replied, arms crossed with that same serious look on his face.

She pouted and with an exaggerated motion, propped herself back up with the little wooden staff she’d been using since the start of this whole training business. The poor thing had seen better days, it was splintered and worn, to the point she’d had to wrap the base of it in fabric just to keep her hands from getting blisters. Which at this point had hardly done much to ease her swelling callouses. And that wasn’t even counting the last few matches she’d endured under her father’s lessons. Ever since she’d turned 50 or so, that was when they’d started this whole routine. He’d told her his reasoning for why she was here, to grow strong and take by his side as his successor in the future. She of course agreed to it, being the ever giving child to the Monkey King. She wanted nothing more than to be just like him. To grow up big and strong and eventually go on her own journey. Right now however she was struggling just to keep her legs from collapsing as she wiped the sweat off her brow. “Again.” He commanded, snapping her from her thoughts as her eyes glanced across the field of the dojo into his. She took a breath to steel her nerves and charged at him. Remembering what he’d told her, putting force into each step, and attempting to swing into the strike at the last minute. This time, this time- Her steps were still just as unbalanced as the last attempt, even with her stance poised properly, it left her wide open for an attack. Something MKing had masterfully pulled from his observation in watching her run at him the way she was now. It was sloppy, unfocused, and it didn’t take him any time at all to swiftly advert her center of gravity around his and throw her back. And just as before she found her world spinning in a blurred mess of colors as she was flung back onto the ground. This time landing on her side where a loud SNAP was heard. As soon as he’d heard that noise he’d switched his demeanor in an instant and rushed over, his brow creased as the dust settled. He first saw the staff broken in two, its splintered bits laying scattered about. But as some movement caught his eye, he shifted his attention towards that and saw her moving to sit up, there wasn’t any screaming or crying so that was a good sign. “Ah geeze..” He sighed, grateful it hadn’t been anything serious, “Come on let's get you a new one-” “I DON’T WANNA ANYMORE!” She yelled. Which caused him to jump a little at her sudden exclamation. His attention now primarily focused on the very distraught child before him. Upon closer inspection she looked fine, maybe a lil bruised but nothing a good night's rest couldn’t fix. No, what really caused him to freeze up was the look on her face. She looked at him with a look of fear.

Now, Wukong was a monkey of many things. A proud warrior, an old general, a friend and then some. He’d taken on countless battles and fearsome enemies, with very few able to really strike the fear into his core. But when it came to being envisioned with a look of fear, and by his own child no less, it left him in a state of shock he hadn’t felt in quite some time. In that moment of shell-shock she’d managed to regain her footing enough to stumble on passed him, her hands wiping at her face as she ran off. “Fang!” He called out to her, “Sweetpeach, wait- I-” It hadn't taken him long to really find her, one peek with his true sight saw her high up in the old bonsai that had been growing on the ledge of the cavern his little hut resided in. But even so..she didn't look anywhere near ready to deal with him right then so he simply sent out a few of the monkies to keep an eye on her while he went off to pick up some food, think things over. And boy did he think things over, if he thought he overthought things before, his mind was practically buzzing like an angry hive by the time he'd finally made it home. He was pushing her and pushing her and at this point he might as well of pushed her away altogether with the way she left him earlier. It broke his heart..seeing his little girl so distraught. All the while he'd been keeping himself blind to the signs for this reason alone, to make her strong..and himself stronger so that when the time came and something worse happened... He shook his head, he didn't wanna think about something like that when she couldn't even leave the island without his guidance.

He still found her in the same place as before, and exchanged a few glances with some of the older monkies that had been keeping an eye on her. They all seemed pretty huffy with him. 'Well that makes two of us...' He sighed. Passing them and climbing up into the tree, his eyes glancing over at the little ball curled tight around a cute little plush he'd made for her. Minikong, defender of the princess, stared back at Wukong, judging him in all his glory. But he could care less at that point, he had enough guilt to flood the ocean several times over, no his eyes were more keen to meet the current bundle taking resident in the little spot in the tree. "Sweetpeach?..." He spoke softly, as if the slightest wake against her fragile little ball would crumble her. It crumbled something when she flinched at his voice.

He cleared his throat when no answer came, "I uh..brought you some dinner." He rose his arm a little, before he placed down a carefully folded package of sliced fruit, all wrapped together in banana leaves. When she made no real movement to go for the food he sighed, "Come'on bud..throw me a peach here.." He pouted. She made a small noise, her little tail curling around her ankle, as if trying to make herself smaller in hopes he'd just forget about her and leave. "not hungry..." A rumble of her stomach claimed otherwise, which in turn got a small laugh out of Wukong, before he had to remind himself of his manners. "You sure about that?? Could've sworn I heard a rather distinguished appetite.." He hummed a little, his eyes never wavering from her furry little tail. She only seemed to grumble something incomprehensible in return. Creasing Wukong's brow as he tried to formulate a means to break through to her, at least enough to where she wouldn't starve herself... His eyes glanced back to Minikong, looking for pity, before an idea came to mind. "What's that Minikong?? She really isn't hungry?? Well that just won't do! And even after I picked her most favorite ripe fruit too..." He opened up the little ball of leaves, revealing the sweet savory piece's he'd so neatly cut up. He wasn't the best but he made due. "Sure would be a shame to let these spoil so soon..." He gave an overly exaggerated sigh, "I suppose that just means I'll have to eat them aaaaall by myself.." His eyes gave a side glance to the slight shuffle beside him. "Every.Last.Piece." "Nooo!!" Fang whined aloud suddenly, her movements jostling the branch she'd taken up residence on. Prompting Wukong to collect the rest of the snack before it met an untimely end to the monkies below. "Hmm?" Wukong quirked a brow back at her, hovering a piece dangerously close to his mouth all the same though. "Nonono!!" She smacked at his arm with Minikong, the traitor taking up arms against their king. "Woah kiddo I was just kidding!-" “Please don’t hate me. I know I can get better! Just train me more!” He froze, the piece in his hand lowering altogether as he turned to look at her altogether and her poor puffy face. Then it clicked. "Sweetpeach..." "I wanna get better, I wanna be strong, but it's hard!! I'm sorry!!" She stared tearing up again, her hands wiping at those big blue eyes of hers as she broke down. "I'm sorry, I'll get stronger, just don't leave me daddy!!" She bawled. And that right there shook Wukong's heart to the core, prompting him to drop what little fruit he had in hand before he finally took her into his arms. Cradling her and trying to soothe her cries. "Shh shh..hey it's okay.." He sighed, commending all those mother's and father's out there for having the strength to last as long as they did with this whole parenting thing...he could only imagine how the hell DBK dealt with it when he'd still been around. When her crying finally seemed to calm down he simply stayed with her like that for a bit, letting his hands comb through her hair while she sat curled up in his lap, so small to the rest of the world was she. He wanted to keep her safe from that world, that terrible merciless expanse that sought to take just as much as it gave. He wanted her to be strong, to keep safe, but he also wanted her to be happy...and what kind of father would he be to fail his own daughter if she wasn't any of those things? "I would never leave you behind...never for the remainder of eternity would I ever think of doing that to you." He softly stated, "I'm sorry I've been so hard on you..I didn't mean to push you as much as I did I just..." He sighed, "I just wanted to make sure that you would be ready. More than I was when I had to face the world and it's many painful lessons..." A sniffle escaped Fang then, her hands gripping at his shirt, before she shifted up a little, enough to look up at him, "Is that why you've been so scary?..." She sniffled, hiccuping a little, "Because..the world is scary..?" She blinked. His face grimaced, trying to keep it together for her sake, he brought his hand up and brushed a few stray tears off her cheek with his thumb. "I guess you could say that..." "I don't wanna..." Her face twisted into a sad frown, a threatening bout of tears pooled along the edges of her eyes despite the snot already running. "I don't wanna face the world if I can't have you with me anymore..." There it was, that remorseful little sliver of guilt that had been biting away at his core for the last few months, finally breaking through his stone ridden skin and jabbing him right in the heart. She'd been doing this for him. Pushing herself for him. To be the successor he told her she'd grow to be one day. She'd been so amped up, so happy to know she had a future to look forward to under his guidance. But that had been back when she was still a child, no better aware of her knowledge of the way things worked more than he did with the humans and their ever-growing fondness for technology. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way sweetpeach...You don't have to be my successor if you don't want to.." "B-but I do!! I wanna make you proud!!.." She exclaimed, grabbing onto his shirt, "Be strong like you.." "Fang.." He called her name, prompting her to stiffen, he never used that name unless it was serious business. "I'm already proud of you...You've come so far with your training, even if you can't see it, you've already mastered plenty of martial arts! Took me years to find a good starting point and even then I had to fight just to get a teacher as good as myself." He hugged her close, "You don't need to be my successor for me to be proud of you OR to live here, you'll still be my little sweetpeach all the same..." He smiled down at her, easing her fears finally. "Whether you like it or not-" A squeal rang out of her when he lifted her up and began to smother her with kisses. "Stooop!!" She laughed, squirming like a fish out of water as he tickled her silly. "Stoppit!! That tickles!!" "I should hope so! Had me worried all day!!" He grinned, before heard a growl from her, his brow perking up. "Oh? Does the princess have her appetite back finally??" He smirked, finally putting her back down. Before his tail finally put down the bundle of leaves he'd been holding onto and allowed her to pick out the more juicy piece's she liked. "Go on then, I don't want you complain'n later that you missed dinner." He ruffled her hair a little and sat back. "Thank you daddy.." Her voice replied, a little muffled from the mouthful of food she had, but glazed with a sweetness that coated his heart with a sugary glaze that left him warm inside. "Of course bud..."

#my fics #LMK #Sun Wukong #Sun Wu Fang #my char

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brax-was-here · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 1

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 1: Just Walk Away From It

Sometimes we try to change the past

The fresh air of the Brisban Wildlands greeted Ceara as she exited the waypoint beam in the sylvari village at Zinder’s Slope. The warm environment was welcoming compared to the frigid cold she had just experienced at the Durmond Priory. The pleasant smells of the village greeted her nose, which she breathed deep. The sounds of the forest filled her ears, a stark contrast to the deathly silence of the halls of the priory. She looked over the surroundings. Citizens of the village going about their daily lives, paying no mind to her. Unhooking the clasp of her cloak, she started walking up the gentle incline of the hillside towards Amaranda’s home.

“Home…” she thought to herself as she looked at the small sylvari structure at the top of the hill. She thought back to the years spent travelling around in her life, never settling in one place for very long. Until dark times took control of her. She paused her ascent, taking a moment to look out over the river that ran nearby. Her thoughts drifted to those months living in the damp cave under the Durmond Priory.

“I never thought I would ever have a home.” She said quietly to herself as she looked down at the dirt path. She kicked at a small stone that lay in front of her.

“Come home, my child.” the voice of the Pale Tree drifted through her mind.

“Mother…” she whispered.

“It’s time for you to come home.” The voice of the Aspect thundered through her memory. She closed her eyes, her brow furrowing at the thought.

“No…” she thought to herself, forcing the image of her ghostly doppelganger from her mind. She sighed and continued up the path.

“There, there. Now, you’ll grow stronger.” Amaranda spoke softly to one of the plants outside of her home. Tending to their needs, nurturing them gently when she noticed Ceara coming up the path.

“The prodigal daughter as returned.” she spoke softly to herself as she smiled lightly. She went inside and started gathering together a bowl of fruits and getting a container of juice ready. She placed them on a low table as Ceara entered the home. The pleasant smell of lavender greeted Ceara’s nose as she stepped through the threshold.

“Welcome home. Any news from the Priory?” Amaranda asked.

“Nothing new.” Ceara replied removing her cloak and hanging it on a nearby hook. She sat on a small stool and removed her boots, stretching out her legs before kneeling at the table. “They said that…since the demise of Mordremoth, activity in the blade had diminished but they still keep it heavily warded.” She plucked a strawberry from the bowl. Amaranda poured a leafy cup full of juice and set it front of Ceara before sitting across from her sister.

“Do you think…Do you think it gone?” Amaranda asked grabbing an orange from the bowl and slicing it open.

“I don’t think so. I could still feel it while I was there. It was trying to break free, but it’s severely weakened. The asura cutting it off from any energy source really did damage to it.”

“Well, I hope it stays that way. I would hate to think what would happen if it got out again.” Amaranda started cutting the orange into slices.

Ceara stared out of the front door, watching a pair of dragonflies dance around a small bush just outside. She slowly chewed on the strawberry as she thought about Amaranda’s book in the Priory. Amaranda looked up at her sister, realizing she was lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” Amaranda finally asked after a few moments. Ceara turned back to her, staring at her somewhat blankly.

“Well?” Amaranda asked, taking a bite of one of the orange slices.

“Tell me about Malyck.” Ceara finally said taking a drink from her cup.

“Malyck? Why?”

“I’m just curious, is all. What was he like?”

Amaranda sighed as she remembered the strange sylvari Trahearne had brought to her. A sylvari not of the Pale Tree, but another tree. A sylvari with no connection to the Dream nor Nightmare.

“He was an enigma, to say the least. Not a sylvari like us. Different. No connection to the Dream. His pod was found just up the river actually. A pod from another tree possi-“ Amaranda paused as she looked at her sister, who was smiling impishly.

“What are…” Amaranda paused a moment. “No!” she snapped sternly when she realized what Ceara was thinking.

“What?”

“No!”

“Why not!?”

“I am not going to help you look for him or some other tree!”

“But why not!?’

“I’ve had enough adventure recently to last a lifetime!”

“But it will be fun!”

“Remind me to discuss your definition of ‘fun’ sometime, Ceara.”

“Oh, come on. Do you just want to stay here for the rest of your life? Live a little!”

“I am living. And I don’t consider travelling right into the front yard of our creator ‘fun’. You’ve heard about the creatures roaming around in the jungle. Some of them were sylvari at one time.”

“But Mordremoth is dead. There’s nothing that we couldn’t handle. Look what we did in Lion’s Arch.”

“Yes, and it could have killed us. No thank you.”

“Feh!” Ceara spat.

“How about finding someone to settle down with. To spend your time peacefully enjoying a quiet life with someone else?’

“Well there is-“

“Someone not named Lord Faren.” Amaranda spoke bluntly.

Ceara looked at her sister somewhat perturbed. “He’s a fine man!” she rebuttled.

Amaranda looked at her, a look of disbelief on her face before snorting a small laugh.

“Really?” Ceara shot back at her. Amaranda shook her head.

“Dear sister…you have much to learn.” She said with a smile on her face.

“’You have much to learn.’” Ceara repeated, snidely mocking her sister. Amaranda laughed as she finished her orange.

“I’m leaving in the morning to travel into the jungle.” Ceara said abruptly

Amaranda looked up at her. “You’re seriously going to look for this other tree? It’s not even known if it exists. And even worse, if it does exist, we don’t know if Mordremoth attacked it as he attacked mother. It may be full of his creatures now.”

“Well, that’s what I’m going to find out.”

Amaranda sighed, as she took a sip of her juice, shaking her head lightly. “I know I can’t stop you. But…just…be careful. Make sure your waypoint device is working.”

“Aren’t I always?” Ceara asked with a smile. Amaranda slowly shook her head as she gently set her cup on the table.

The sun was rose slowly in the morning sky as Ceara arrived at the waypoint furthest west for which she had coordinates. She exited the beam near an area in the far southwest part of the wildlands dubbed “Tangle Root”. Most likely due to the fact that the area is believed to be where Mordremoth had managed to break through and spread his influence throughout Tyria. The dry air gave a hint of where she was heading. A slight shudder went down her spine as she saw the remains of Mordremoth’s large vines protruding from the limestone ridges that surrounded the area.

“You were my champion.” The jungle dragon’s voice rumbled through her mind. Closing her eyes, she focused the memory away. She breathed deep before slowly opening them. It would still take her a day to get through the chasm filled borderlands between the wildlands and the desert wastes of Maguuma. She had decided to stop by the small mining town of Prosperity to check to see if any of the things she left behind were still there.

“This would have been so much easier with my old transporter.” She thought to herself. She had left it behind when she moved her operations from the cave in Lornar’s Pass to the Breachmaker. “I guess the Priory has it now.” She wondered. “Or that little asuran girl with the crooked walk.” Her brow furrowed at the thought.

The Seraph outpost near the edge of the canyon that would lead her to the Dry Top region of the wastes was quiet. Two guards manned the perimeter. Her thoughts drifted back to the first time she had passed through this area as she approached.

“Im just passing through to the desert regions. I’m going to study the plants that live there! I’ve heard they are so much different than anything I’ve seen here!” she happily lied to the Seraph that were stationed at the outpost at the time, covering up her true reason for heading into the desert. To this day she still wasn’t sure if that was a lie she made up as her own or if it was brought forth by the Aspect that was residing in her mind in those dark days. The outpost seemed lightly manned. Just a few troops scattered about going about their mundane tasks.

“Hopefully, this works.” She thought to herself as she opened a small panel on one of her gauntlets and pressed a tiny, illuminated button. She was enveloped in a light bending field that caused her to turn seemingly invisible. She quickened her pace as she knew the field would not last long.

The hours passed by as she made her way through the twisting canyon. She rarely saw a Seraph patrol, and when she did, she was able to easily hide and get passed them. A few travellers were also passing through the canyon as well.

“This was a bandit route in the past. I guess the rise of Mordremoth changed things.” She thought to herself. Midday had come and gone, and the walls of the canyon had started to change. She recognized the vines that were weaving throughout the limestone rock. She approached one slowly, cautiously reaching out and placing her hand upon it. The outer skin dried and fragile, broke and splintered at her touch. She slowly closed her fingers, digging them into the dried vine, pieces of it splintering in her grip as her hand closed into a fist. A feeling of anger was forming in the pit of her stomach, as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“This thing. This took control of me. This is what drove me to madness…” Her angered scream echoed through the canyon as she smashed both of her fists down, shattering the section of vine, sending shards in all directions. She choked back the tears as she cleared her thoughts. She stood in silence for a moment, her breathing heavy as she calmed herself.

“I’m sure someone heard me.” She thought as she looked into the distance, down the path her journey was taking her.

The hours rolled on. The sun was low in the sky as Ceara neared the western end of the canyon. Soon the desert expanse of Dry Top would stretch out in front of her as the path curved slightly northward. As the mouth of the canyon gave way to the arid desert, she paused at the scene that lay before her.

“The Zephyrites?” she thought to herself as she gazed upon the wreckage of the Zephyrite airship. Its structure strewn across the desert, twisted and broken like a pile of twigs she would find in Caledon Forest. Off in the far distance, she could make out the small buildings of the town of Properity. Dimly lit windows dotted the dark face of the far cliffs. She took a drink of water from her canteen before making her way down the pathway along the cliff face.

“What happened here?” She thought to herself as she surveyed the wreckage during her decent. As the pathway emptied out at the bottom of the cliff, she felt uneasy as parts of the airship slowly creaked and groaned in the desert breeze. Not even the smallest of animals were to be seen throughout the crash site.

“Did… was this Mordremoth’s doing?” she pondered quietly to herself. She paused a moment. “If it was…then…” Her heart sank. She closed her eyes a moment before taking a deep breath. “I…I can’t think about this now.” She continued moving through the wreckage. She took note of possible remains of footprints in the sand around large pieces of the destroyed structure.

“Someone survived, I guess. Or bandits. Looks like some asura as well. Also, I haven’t seen any of their special crystals.” She glanced at the sun, which was dipping below the far cliffs.

“The wind is picking up. Maybe a sandstorm blowing in.” She thought. She pulled her scarf up, covering the lower half of her face and placed her goggles over her eyes. Lastly, she pulled the hood of her cloak up.

“I may not make it to the town in time.” She thought as she quickly scanned the wreckage for anything to make a temporary shelter. Grabbing some broken beams and some battered panels, she managed to fashion a small shelter against an alcove in a pile of nearby boulders. She quickly grabbed more materials to help reinforce it against the blowing wind.

“I guess I’m staying the night here. Not what I had planned at all.” She said to herself as she closed the makeshift door, securing it behind her as the wind buffeted the small building.

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The mid-morning sun shone brightly over Properity, a small mining town that also acts as a waystation for travelers passing through the Maguuma Wastes. The towns inhabitants were going about their daily routines. Some heading towards the mine to work, others taking care of business around the town. A particular duo was busily leaning against the town well when they noticed a familiar sylvari approaching. They watched as she crossed one of the bridges over the river of quicksand that helped to protect the town from danger.

“Is that…is that who I think it is?” the asura spoke to his charr compatriot.

“I…I think so. Never thought we would see her again.” The charr replied.

“I hope she doesn’t want to see her place. Think she’s gonna be a tad upset when she sees what that crew did to it.” The asura said, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Ceara paused while crossing the bridge into Prosperity. She could see remains of Mordremoth’s giant thorned vines sticking out of the cliff walls surrounding the northern part of the town.

“It’s amazing they survived him.” She thought to herself. She continued across the bridge, immediately noticing a waypoint beacon set up nearby.

“Well that’s very convenient.” She smiled to herself as she pulled out her waypoint device and calibrated it. She then turned and started walking to the building where she lived for a time. She paused when she saw the duo at the well gawking at her.

“Those two…still standing in the same place the last time I was here…” she said, squinting at them. “They must have grown roots by now.” She shook her head and approached the room she called home for a while. She paused several feet away, looking at the door that had been blown off its hinges.

“Someone set off the trap…” she thought to herself. Cautiously stepping inside, the pit of her stomach sank. The room was completely empty. All her things were gone.

“Well, I should have guess something like this would have happened.” she said to herself. Sighing, she stepped through the hole in the far wall into the cavern beyond. She illuminated a small light from her satchel and cautiously descended the wooden stairway into the cave. A lot of things were still there. Random parts of asura tech, broken odds and ends that she had no use for. Everything that was of any value to her in those days was gone.

“Thorns!” she spat. She climbed back up the makeshift stairs and exited out of the room. Spying the duo at the well, she started marching over to them.

“Uh-oh.” The charr grunted.

“Um…turn around. Act like you didn’t see her.” The asura sputtered. The pair turned and started walking away.

“OH my! You actually don’t have roots!” Ceara shouted. “Now, I have a question and I think you two know the answer!”

The pair started quickening their pace, but Ceara caught up to them, grabbing the asura by the collar.

“Don’t hurt me! It wasn’t us!” he screamed. The charr turned to find the barrel of Ceara’s pistol in his face.

“Whoa! Whoa! We didn’t do anything!” the charr stammered.

“What happened to my things!?” Ceara barked.

“Look! It wasn’t us. It was some other group! An asuran girl. With some humans. And a charr and a norn! They destroyed the door to your place and the asuran girl had a krewe come in and move everything out.”

“And you didn’t stop them?”

“Why should we!? They were heavily armored and carrying around big weapons!”

“Heavy armored…” Ceara thought for a moment. “You said a norn and charr? And some humans?”

“Yes.”

“Was the charr a female? With funny looking eyes? And the asuran girl? Did she have a crooked walk?”

“Um…yeah”

“And the humans… two women, one with dark hair and wearing dark armor, and the other looking like a princess?”

“Yeah. They came in here asking a bunch of questions about you and what you were doing here.” Ceara let the asura go and holstered her pistol.

“What I was…” Ceara thought back to those dark days.” “Oh no…oh no!” she exclaimed; her eyes wide. She bolted back to her room. Darting through the cave, she quickly found the exit that led into a canyon that would take her to a place she had not seen in a very long time.

Ceara journeyed through the canyons of Dry Top as fast as she could hoping to find the cavern where she first found and studied leylines. She didn’t know what lay waiting for her there, only that she had to stop anyone from using that machine.

“That infernal device.” Her mind drifted back to that fateful day.

“At long last I’m going to see it. I’m going to see the Eternal Alchemy itself.” She remembered saying as Omadd was securing her in the isolation chamber.

“I’m so sorry…” she thought.

“Come, young one. Let me show you the truth.” She heard the deep bellow of the jungle dragons voice through her memory.

“If I had only known.” She thought. “If I was only better prepared.” She stopped to rest a moment as the midday sun beat down on her. She opened her canteen and started taking a drink when she heard footsteps in the distance. Hooved footsteps from the sound of them. She turned and could make out centaurs approaching from the direction she was travelling.

“That’s right. I remember there being a centaur camp along this route.” She placed her canteen back in its satchel and started walking towards the approaching group. As she got closer, she counted three of them. She remembered that they were seemingly friendly back during those days, but she undid the clasp on her holster as a cautionary measure.

“Look. Another sylvari.” One of them spoke.

“Another?” Ceara asked puzzled.

“Yes. Tell me, traveler. Do you need any assistance in getting through the canyon?” Another asked Ceara.

“Uh…if you are offering it, then yes. I need to get to the Uplands as fast as possible.”

The trio looked at each other, then back to her, seemingly judging her. Ceara felt uneasy.

“We’ll take you as far as the pass that leads to the desert, but no farther.”

“That’s good enough.” She replied. She climbed onto the back of one of the centaurs. After securing her things, they galloped onward towards the west.

“Well…Ventari would have just made me walk…” she said snidely under her breath. “At this rate we’ll be in the Uplands in no time.” she thought.

Time passed as the trio raced through the canyons. Ceara saw other centaurs along the route, patrolling or hunting. She couldn’t tell, nor did she really care. Her thoughts were only on one thing at the moment.

“If it is still there…if it still exists…” she hesitated at the thought of what that machine did to her and it possibly could do if another entered it. Soon the canyons started fading away, and the desert once again started looming out before her. The centaurs slowed their gait, coming to a full stop.

“This is as far as we can take you, sylvari. Your journey from here is on foot.” One spoke as she climbed off his back.

“Thank you.” She said looking up at him.

“Safe journeys.” He said to her before they turned and headed back into the canyon.

“Well, this looks somewhat familiar.” She commented as she looked out at the rolling dunes of the desert. “Time to get moving.” She thought back to the days of when she lived here before. She remembered making the trek through the desert many times and let her instincts take over, remembering landmarks along the way. She knew she was on the right path when she came across the remains of one of her steam minotaurs partially buried in the sand near a cliff wall, it’s steel carcass blasted clean by years of blowing sand.

“I remember you…” she said, kneeling down, brushing the sand away from its lifeless face. “Thanks to you, and the others, I was able to haul all my equipment into that cavern.” She stood and moved on. Cautiously making her way down the incline, approaching the cavern entrance, she found remains of asuran golems and some security turrets. They had been damaged beyond repair and left where they lay. She picked up a crystal from one of the golems.

“Inquest…” she spoke, looking at her reflection on the surface. “They must have been here studying the ley line…and someone…or something didn’t like it.” She dropped the crystal into the sand and took pause. A giant steel door of asuran design had been constructed at the mouth of the cavern, and it too had been destroyed. She cautiously stepped through into the cave, her heart racing as she was met by the cool air of the cavern. The smell of ozone filled the air, getting stronger as she descended into the cave. Energy she had not felt in a long time washed over her as the path emptied into the main room of the cavern. Its walls illuminated brightly by the river of energy that coursed through it. Ceara gasped as she stood in silence, staring at the beam of leyline energy that flowed from the far end of the cavern to the other, piercing the stone wall and flowing beyond. Her thoughts returned to that day so long ago when she first discovered it.

“Look at that. It’s beautiful.” She thought. “and it still is.” Her thoughts snapped back to the present. She looked around the immediate area, noticing more asuran tech set up in various locations. She slowly walked over to a small terminal that had been set up near the flow of energy.

“The inquest were studying it.” She spoke softly as she ran her hand down the damaged control console. “If they were here…then…” She slowly turned, her eyes gazing up at an opening at the end of the cavern. She felt anxious, as if an icy hand were slowly closing over her heart. Slowly she made her way up the small ridge, each footfall more carefully placed than the last. The ridge was lined with damaged inquest equipment as well, but one console next to the cave opening stood out in particular. It wasn’t of Inquest design. It hummed softly, sounding a periodic beep as lights flashed in time on its control surface. Her breathing labored as she neared it. She paused before reaching the threshold as she thought about what lay beyond in the cavern. Turning her gaze through the opening, she gasped, her eyes widened as she laid her eyes upon what she knew lay in the cave below: Omadd’s isolation chamber. The very machine that allowed her to view the Eternal Alchemy, that showed her secrets she wanted to know, and that allowed the jungle dragon to consume her.

“No…” she shook her head. “NO!” she screamed as she ran into the cave entrance, only to be repulsed by an invisible shield. She screamed again as she slammed herself into the field, trying to crash though it, but to no avail. The shield held fast. She turned to the console.

“No…no….it can’t be here…it has to be destroyed…” she gasped as she frantically threw switches and pressed buttons on the control panel. ‘THORNS!” she screamed, slamming her fists on the unit as nothing seemed to drop the shield. She turned and slammed her fists against the barrier.

“No…” she whimpered as she slowly dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“If I understood the stories correctly…” a voice echoed through the cavern. Ceara drew her pistol, spinning around pointing it randomly behind her.

“The last thing anyone, you of all people, should want to do is be near that machine.” The voice continued.

“Who’s there!? Show yourself! NOW!” Ceara hollered, her voice echoing through the cavern. She heard the sound of an ethereal chime that reminded her of a mesmers teleportation spell.

“I’m down here.” The voice called out. Ceara slowly peered over the edge of the ridge to see a dark colored sylvari woman in white dress looking up at her. She was holding a very odd-looking staff.

“Are you going to shoot me?” the woman asked almost playfully.

“Who are you? Why are you following me?” Ceara replied sternly.

“My name is Liathlas. And I’m not here to harm you, secondborn.” The woman shouldered her staff and started walking up the ridge. She stopped when Ceara fired a shot at her feet.

“Don’t come any closer.” Ceara barked at her. “I asked you why you are following me?” aiming her pistol at the womans face.

“I’m not following you. I am following a group of Nightmare Courtiers that are apparently travelling into the jungle. They seem to be looking for some great item of power. You just happened to catch my eye as you were travelling across the wastes and my curiosity got the better of me.”

Ceara narrowed her eyes. “Nightmare Courtiers? The last I heard Faolain had been killed in the battles against Mordremoth and the Nightmare Court fractured without her leadership.”

“Indeed. Faolian was slain, and in turn resurrected by Mordremoth as one of his champions.”

“You were my champion. My chosen one…” echoed through Ceara’s mind. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

“Are you ok?” Liathlas asked, noticing Ceara’s momentary lack of focus.

“I’m fine.” Ceara snapped at her.

“Well, anyway, as for the Court, they have indeed fractured, their top ranks warring amongst themselves for control.” Liathlas continued. “This particular group seems to have developed a plan to take control of the Court using whatever it is they are looking for in the jungle.”

“And who is this group led by?”

“A sylvari named Nafiona. A practitioner of necromancy.”

“A sylvari necromancer?”

“Yes.”

“An item of great power…” Ceara muttered. She looked at Liathlas unbelievingly. “How do I know this is all true? Maybe you’re here to kill me?”

Liathlas returned her look in disbelief, shaking her head. “I’m not here to kill you. As a matter of fact, I think we should work together, at least until we get into the jungle. There are still plenty of mordrem wandering the wastes, and they won’t waste a second to try to kill anyone that crosses their path.”

Ceara closed her eyes, breathing in deep. She knew this sylvari was right, and it would benefit her to have someone watching her back during the journey.

“Ok…” she reluctantly agreed. Sighing deeply, she slowly lowered and holstered her pistol. Liathlas cautiously walked up to her, turning her gaze to look at the device that lay inside. She looked back at Ceara, who was looking at the machine, before cutting her own eyes at Liathlas.

“I think you need to forget about that machine.” Liathlas stated looking down at Omadd’s device.

“That will be impossible. That machine-“

“Just walk away from it, secondborn.” She turned back to Ceara. “The past is gone. It can’t be changed. Just walk away from it.” Liathlas turned and started walking down the ridge.

“Feh…” Ceara sneered at her, glancing one last time at the machine that was a blessing and ultimately a curse in her life before heading down the ridge herself.

The pair travelled back through the Uplands, eventually back to the canyon that brought Ceara here. The trek was long on foot.

“Tell me, secondborn, which name do you prefer to go by now? Your birth name? Or the name you have chosen for yourself?” Liathlas asked.

Ceara pondered for a few moments. “It doesn’t really matter. Some call me by my birth name. The rest of the world now knows me as Scarlet Briar.”

“I see. Well, how about we just call you…Ceara Briar?” Liathlas giggled.

Ceara looked at her somewhat dumbfounded. “Really?”

“Well, it fits.” Liathlas grinned.

“No, we’re not doing that.” Ceara stated. “So…what’s your story?” she asked the dark hued sylvari.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your story? A wyld hunt?”

“I didn’t have a wyld hunt. I’m not one of the lucky ones.”

“Maybe you are a lucky one for not having one.”

“And why do you say that secondborn?”

“Doesn’t it feel better not being tied to the Pale Tree? Not having to answer some call, some preordained destiny set before you?”

“I think it would be something remarkable, to have been chosen to have one.”

“That’s delusional.”

“What’s wrong secondborn? You didn’t like yours?”

Ceara’s bioluminescence flared at the thought of being tied down with a wyld hunt.

“I didn’t have one and I am very thankful I was not chosen for one!” she said sternly.

“A touchy subject, I see” Liathlas replied.

“It’s best to just let it go.” Ceara sneered.

“Now, I’m curious.”

“I don’t have one…” Ceara growled through her teeth.

“Ok…ok. There is no need to get upset. Anyway… we should make a stop by the centaur camp to stock on supplies…and maybe rest for a bit.” Liathlas suggested.

“I agree.”

“This trek will take us a while to reach the jungle. I also suggest we make stop by Camp Resolve as well.”

“Camp Resolve?” Ceara asked, pausing.

“Yes. The camp from which the Pact launched their attack on Mordremoth.”

“I’m fully aware. And they weren’t successful.”

“Sadly, no.” Liathlas sighed. “But in the end, Tyria did prevail.”

Ceara’s face dropped. “And it was because of me.” She thought to herself. “It would probably be best if we do not visit that pact camp.” She paused.

“Hmm?” Liathlas looked over her shoulder at Ceara.

“I have the feeling that I wouldn’t be wanted there.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure it would be fine.”

“I don’t think so.” Ceara muttered. “So, tell me about this Nafiona.”

Liathlas pondered a moment. “I don’t know much about her. She’s a necromancer and member of the Nightmare Court as I said. And I’ve been tasked with stopping her from finding whatever this item of power she seeks. Stories tell of her being at the Nightmare Tower in Kessex Hills during its construction.”

Ceara stopped in her tracks, looking at Liathlas. “The Nightmare tower?”

“Yes.” Liathlas turned to her. Ceara pondered a moment, remembering the giant spore plant.

“There were so many Nightmare Court there.” She paused, shaking her head lightly. “My memory from those days is fuzzy. I don’t…I don’t remember her at all. How powerful is she?”

Well, she’s a necromancer. Maybe as powerful as Trahearne was. I’m not sure.”

“So, it’s just you against this Nafiona and her slice of the Nightmare Court?”

“Well, since she’s travelling into the jungle, I was hoping to get some of the Pact to help, honestly.”

“I think the remnants of a splintered faction are beneath their worries at the moment.” Cear stated.

“You’re probably right. So, I hope you’ll help instead!” Liathlas grinned at her.

Ceara slowly looked at Liathlas. “Why do I feel like I just got played at my own game.” She sighed heavily.

The trek through the canyons was arduous on foot and took longer than Ceara had remembered. The sun was very low, the blackness of night slowly creeping across the sky. Long shadows were cast through the canyon as they continued. It wasn’t long before they were approached by a pair of patrolling centaurs who offered to escort them to the camp, which they gladly accepted. Arriving at the entrance, Ceara held her breath.

“It still smells as bad as I remember.” She thought to herself. “What was I thinking agreeing to rest here.” She slowly exhaled and tried to breathe as shallow as she could. Looking around the torch lit area, she saw a handful of other individuals. One looked like a possible merchant, other looked like wayfarers making their way through the region.

“Is there a place where we might rest for the night?” Liathlas asked a one of the centaurs.

“There is a communal structure at the far end of the camp.” He replied.

“Oh, thank you so much.” Liathlas motioned to Ceara to follow.

“Do we really have to stay here?” Ceara asked quietly, a look of disgust on her face. “The smell is terrible. I’ve been trying not to gag.”

“Would you rather stay out there in the desert in the blowing sand and wild beasts? I’m sure any mordrem that might be out there would just love to meet you.”

“That’s…that’s not funny.” Ceara hissed at her. Passing through the camp, they were approached by an aged centaur with a noticeable limp.

“You there.” He said, his voice deep. The pair stopped as he lumbered up to them, setting his gaze upon Liathlas. “What is your name?”

“My name is Liathlas!” she replied happily. “And this is Ceara.”

“And you are?” Ceara asked, almost commanding. The centaur cut his eyes at her for a moment, then back to Liathlas.

“I am Ganthar. You look familiar. The same as your kind that came here a great many years ago.”

“Oh, who was that?” Liathlas asked, her curiosity brimming.

“Her name was Wynne.” He spoke. Ceara gasp slightly at the name.

“Wynne? The firstborn?” Liathlas asked surprisingly.

“Hmm...” the centaur nodded slightly. “She was a gentle soul that visited my tribe many years ago. She was very eager to learn our ways. And very interested in Ventari.” He paused a moment. “Until more of your kind arrived. They attacked us, taking us by surprise. Slaughtered my tribe. I barely survived the assault and escaped with my life.” He told them as he narrowed his eyes at Liathlas. The two sylvari looked at each other momentarily before turning back to him. Ceara slowly placed her hand on her pistol under her cloak.

“It took me a very long time to forgive. To realize there are some amongst your kind that would see the world burn rather than to live in peace. You reminded me of her.” He continued.

“I’m sorry but I did not know her. I was born from the tree much after her. I understand that she was quite peaceful in her demeanor.” Liathlas said, looking at Ceara. Ceara stared at the sand in front of her, slowly releasing her grip on her pistol. She knew of Wynne somewhat, and knew what had happened to her.

“Secondborn, are you alright?” Liathlas asked. “You’ve fallen quite silent.”

“I’m fine. I’m just…just a little sleepy is all.”

The centaur nodded. “You should rest then. I will not take up anymore of your time this night.” He bowed his head slightly and trotted past the sylvari.

“He was rather nice, wasn’t he?” Liathlas said joyfully.

“Yes, I guess so.”

They arrived at the communal structure. A large leathery tent with makeshift beds laid out in two rows.

“Well, this looks healthy.” Ceara stated as she looked over the dimly lit area. A few other travellers were using the area as well. Liathlas made her way to the back of the structure and plopped down on a heavily worn cot.

“Just like being a newborn sapling again, living in the bottom of the Grove.” She said almost whimsically.

“Yeah, except with this terrible smell in the air.” Ceara replied to her, a tone of annoyance in her voice.

“Oh, come now, secondborn. It isn’t that bad.”

“No, it’s bad.” Ceara stated, unstrapping her rifle and leaning it against the next cot. Liathlas looked upon it, various gauges and holographic images glowing softly in the dimly lit area.

“Your rifle seems very vibrant.” She said curiousily, kneeling down waving her hand through the holograms.

“It is. And even more so when when it’s powered up.”

“Did you make it?”

“No, I did not. A pair of asura in Rata Sum constructed it. I am merely…borrowing it…until further notice.”

“Oh, I see.” Liathlas stood and sat back on her cot. “I guess we should get some rest.” She said laying down.

“I guess we should.” Ceara muttered Ceara muttered as she unlatched her shoulder pauldrons and set them beside the cot. The makeshift bedding creaked as she wrapped herself in her cloak and laid down. Staring at the roof of the structure, her thoughts drifted through the recent events of her life and the people she met. Mender Seoras, the asuran pair in Rata Sum whose names she couldn’t remember, and Ventari. She was briefly interrupted by the sound of light snoring coming from her sylvari compatriot in the cot next to her. She smiled lightly for a moment before her thoughts drifted to the Aspect that had been a part of her at one time. A piece of Mordremoth’s will fused with her own mind. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and slightly shaking her head.

“I was so foolish.” She whispered to herself as she tried to drift into sleep.

#Guild Wars 2 #GW2 #GW2 Fanfiction #Scarlet Briar #Sylvari #AU Ceara

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unfunny-quips · 3 years

Text

Of all the many people in the world who wanted him dead, All For One had to admit that he was rather surprised by the person who actually managed to both track him down and get past his impressive security.

He knew someone was there the moment he opened the door. Could sense the presence of another person in his high rise apartment that shouldn’t have been there. A steady heartbeat, unflinching and unafraid. Brave or stupid, he wasn’t sure, but they’d be dead either way once he wrung out of them how they’d gotten in and which of his security detail he was going to have to kill.

He shrugged off his coat - it was new and fit him well, he’d rather not get blood on it - and hung it up carefully by the front door. Slipped off his shoes and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Though that particular apartment was not homey per se, there was something oddly comforting about returning to a living space that was entirely his own at the end of a day. Though centuries ago, a childhood fraught with uncertain living situations and inconsistent care had left marks on him that time and power had not fully been able to shake.

All the more reason to make the intruder’s death slow, as insignificant a threat as they were, they’d at least been able to find him. Which meant finding a new luxury apartment, perhaps even in a new city. And he despised moving.

He kept his steps light on the polished wooden floors, stopping by the oversized and little used kitchen for some water before he meandered his way towards the living room where his uninvited guest waited. Perhaps he’d throw them out the window, eighty stories up would make for a rather long time to think about their impending death. Or maybe tear them apart inch by literal inch so they had to languish in their suffering.

Setting his glass down on the kitchen counter he stepped into his spacious living room and paused at what sat waiting for him.

All For One, Emperor of Darkness, King of all Villains, Boogeyman of the Boogeymen found himself...uncertain.

There was a woman seated on his couch. Casually dressed and relaxed looking, knees drawn up and tucked beneath her, an open book bag on the floor beside where she sat and a law textbook in hand. She finished highlighting a section carefully before capping the marker and turning her gaze on to him, letting him see her face properly for the first time.

Green eyes were the first thing that struck him. Clear and bright and intelligent, set in a kind face. Her hair, also green, was swept down a little past her shoulders with half of it pulled up in a fluttering little bun at the back of her head. He was struck by two thoughts as he took her in.

The woman sitting before him was entirely unintimidated by him.

And...

She looked a bit like Nana Shimura.

The woman tilted her head, seeming to take him in while he’d been observing her. She shifted on the couch a little, shutting the book softly and setting it down. Her heartbeat was steady, her gaze unflinching but not combative. Purpose seemed to flow off of her, as resolute as her steady gaze. He understood that she knew exactly who he was and felt no need for fear nor sense of unease in his presence. A strong will, he knew the aura he carried around him well and it was someone interesting indeed who could face the overwhelming killing intent that drifted off him in waves without so much as a flicker of uncertainty.

“Hello.” She said with a soft, clear voice. The kind of ease one has with an acquaintance or a friend not often seen, not a stranger whose house she had invaded. “I’m sorry to have broken in like this.” She started, with the appropriate level of apology one would save for knocking over a stranger’s drink. “But I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”

He should be irritated, he should just kill her and get on with his evening, he should make her an example for anyone else stupid enough to think they could waltz into his home without consquence.

He wasn’t irritated though. And he didn’t kill her. Instead he found himself oddly...charmed by the stranger that sat before him.

“Indeed?” He asked blandly, slipping his hands into his pockets before leaning against the wall casually. “I’m afraid you’re rather lost if you think this is a police station.”

The woman broke into a small smile, a soft huffing chuckle leaving her. Shaking her head she dropped her gaze for a moment and he saw the faint pink of a blush on her cheeks. He was, he realized. He was absolutely charmed by her. And it wasn’t even her Quirk doing it, hers had the feel of a gravitational telekinesis, not a mood altering ability. The woman that sat before him, who had broken into his home and casually asked him for help as if searching for her stray cat, was oddly endearing. And it had been a long time since he had found himself endeared by anything, let alone a person.

“Sorry,” She said, shifting on the couch. “I’ve probably done this all wrong. But I wanted you to know I was serious.” Green eyes met his own and he was struck again by the intelligence he saw in her gaze. “I don’t know why I thought this would be the way to do it but…” She gave a shrug, then slowly got to her feet. Careful not to topple her bag or trip as she untangled from her comfortable position on the couch. “Here, let me try again.”

He watched as she gave a short, polite bow, hands clasped before her. A neat and polite introduction, complete with a soft smile as she rose to meet his gaze again. “My name is Midoriya Inko. I’m a graduate law student at Kyushu University, and I was hoping you could take my Sensei’s Quirk.”

Well.

How on earth was he supposed to kill such a charming, polite young woman when she came to him with such an interesting request such as that?

He couldn’t, of course, was the answer.

---

Inko always had trouble with authority.

Even when she was very young she’d been prone to doing what she was told she shouldn’t just because an adult told her not too. Her father - in what faint and blurring memories she had of him before his death - used to call her his little revolutionary and would laugh over the hijinks her stubborn nature would produce. Then again, her father had his reasons to support the wholesale refusal to bend to the whims of authority.

Trying to take down the corrupt system the government had put in place had been the cause of his death, after all.

Her mother had been far less amused by Inko’s acts of rebellion for rebellion’s sake. Always begging Inko to please just follow the rules just once honey with a perpetually exhausted look on her face. Inko’s only picture of her mother - a snapshot of the entire family at a park, her small frame held in her father’s arms a month before he would be killed - showed Nana Shimura with a wide, infectious smile in place. It felt odd looking at it in years to come, as Inko could only recall her mother looking mournful and sad in those last days.

It had been Kotaro that was the well behaved one of the two of them. Thirteen minutes older than her, he took the responsibilities of the eldest sibling with a seriousness that was almost frightening at times when they’d been children.

He’d been the one to tell her not to get into trouble, the one to reprimand her when she misbehaved. The one to tell her not to sneak out when they were teenagers in one of their many foster homes after their mother had given them up. Rule abiding, strict and, as they’d grown, more and more obsessed with control. Of her, of their situation, of whatever he could. A strangling, grasping bid at a control that had only led their already rocky relationship to splinter even further.

Her last conversation with him before she’d stopped speaking to him completely he’d told her that she should be a quiet housewife. She’d gone and applied to law school the very next day.

She still found herself wondering if that had been Kotaro being clever. Using her own contrary impulses to make her commit to something she’d always wanted to do but been too uncertain about to try and follow. It would have been the kindest he’d been to her in years if it was true, and she’d been too afraid to reach out to him to find out for fear that it wasn’t.

Instead she focused on her studies, focused on being the person she wanted to be instead of the person she’d been forced to become over the years. Not the abandoned daughter of a hero that had to retire too soon, but someone who was able to take the rules she’d been so long rebelling against and reshape them. Twist them under her hands until they settled into something she could believe in. Something she could follow.

At nineteen, after careful consideration and one less-than-helpful conversation with her friend Mitsuki she changed her name to Midoriya. On her twentieth birthday enjoying the fact that she could - legally - drink herself into oblivion, she cut her waist long hair off in a single ugly cut with the kitchen scissors. The next hour was spent in laughter as Mitsuki’s shy fashion student boyfriend Masaru fixed the mess as best he could. At twenty-one she clutched her best friend’s hand and gritted her teeth as a tattoo artist brought to life a stylized kitsune on her shoulder. A mark of the trickster she wished to become. And in between all of that, she proved herself to the academic world at large and earned herself a full ride to Kyushu University’s much lauded law program.

The work was challenging, equal parts exhilarating and mind-numbingly boring. She spent her days working hard to get top marks in every class, to ace every test, and impress every teacher with her sharp wit and unbending will. Her nights were filled with studying and working whatever jobs she could pick up to cover what her scholarships didn’t cover. Mitsuki teased her that she would get wrinkles from squinting at so many books, but her friend was always supportive.

Years passed, semesters flying by in almost a dream at times, whisking her closer and closer to graduation and her dream of reshaping the system into something she could believe in. Despite her exhaustion, she’d found herself happier than she’d ever been in her life.

Which of course was the exact moment that it all started crashing down.

It started with one of the girl’s in the same program as Inko suddenly dropping the ball on her studies, the other woman’s grades began plummeting at an alarming rate. The girl - Shibata Aiko - looked ragged and exhausted, unable to focus and eventually being dropped from the program entirely due to the issues with her academic performance.

A few weeks later it was another female student shutting herself away in her dorm room for an entire week. The girl finally left her dorm looking haggard and sick, refusing to speak to anyone as she walked barefoot out into the wider world and immediately attempted to throw herself in front of a bus.

Then one of Inko’s senpai’s - kind and serious Hanako who had mentored Inko briefly when she’d first joined the school - had what could only be called a breakdown in the school library. Screaming and crying as she began tearing up law books and flinging chairs.

Each incident was quickly handled and waved away as young women not suited for the high expectations and difficulties of such a high ranking university. Most of Inko’s classmates had been, if not content to accept that information, at least too exhausted by their own heavy workloads to question further.

But Inko never was good at accepting the will of authority.

#My writing #Fic snippet #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #Inko Midoriya #kotaro shimura #all for one #all for one is midoriya hisashi #dad for one #inko x one for all #inko is nana shimura's daughter #rebellious inko midoriya #all for one is completely smitten #bnha au #all for one: this is the story of how I met your mother

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

Text

AU Blind Murdock Reader x Leonardo (TMNT 2014/2016) Chapter 4

"Please someone....help.."

You jolted and Leo's eyes darted forward. He dropped his arms, wondering what it was that broke your focus.

"Are you alright?"

During the beginning, you were quite reluctant to join, and he realized he just needed to be persistent. So after you healed, and tried to get out of working together, you finally gave in. Leo knew if you were going to trust them, he would have to give you a reason to, so there was no doubt about showing you the lair. You'd already been there, and he had the sense that you would be able to find them even without his guidance.

At first, it was difficult, going out together and fighting crime. You still tried to operate like you were solo, and he didn't want to risk a casualty, so he asked Splinter for some advice. He suggested team training exercises. It helped with his brothers, so why not you? That's what you were currently doing, until something distracted you.

"I'm fine."

Fine.

You kept saying that. It was starting to get on his nerves. He knew for a fact you weren't fine. But with your very prominent trust issues, getting that information out would be a challenge.

"I need to go." Leo narrowed his eyes. It was Saturday afternoon. You didn't have school, and he was positive when you agreed to come, you did so because your schedule was clear.

"Where are you going?"

Your fist tightened at your side. "I didn't realize this was an interrogation. I just need to go. Or do I need permission to leave sir." He internally winced at the venom in your voice. He'd stepped on a bomb, he knew that now. "Sorry, I don't mean to be nosy. I was just under the impression that we were going to practice. I'm just a little worried, I want us to work well when we're out there. I can't do that if we aren't familiar with each other. "

"We'll be fine." You spoke flatly. You were already turning before he could say much more. You only made a few steps before his hand grabbed your wrist. Effectively halting your movements.

"Let me help you." you bit down on your lip. Asking for help would take a while, Leo understood that. That just meant he had to pay attention. He supposed you were used to being ignored, so it was easy for people who didn't pay mind to miss the subtle expressions on your face. He was getting better at reading you. "Something is bothering you, it's been that way for a while." He could feel you tense in his hold.

"I'm right." So it wasn't just a hunch on his part. At the start of the session he could tell. You were a bit antsy, and some of your hits were delayed. He'd seen you fight, you were calculated, strong and agile. Today you weren't as quick. Your shoulders slumped, and he loosened his hold, watching as you turned to him slowly.

"There's a girl in my building. She's..in pain. I can't seem to help. Every night she cries out for help and I..I can't do a thing."

"Did you try talking to the police, maybe they can help." you frowned.

"I've called child welfare and they didn't do a thing."

"Child welfare..." The child was being abused.

"(Y/N), are they beating on her?" your jaw clenched, and you turned abruptly.

"Are you going to help me or not."

You didn't answer his question, that wasn't good. Something told him that it was better to just go along with you. If he didn't, he'd be stuck worrying about what could happen. He didn't want you acting rash and getting hurt.

"I'll help."

He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into, but at least this way he was in the loop.

~~~~~

As darkness overtook the sky, you and Leo stood on the roof of your building. You kept flexing your fingers. Leo realized that watching you filter through all the sounds around you was intriguing. You seemed to react like an antenna, picking up signals until you found the right one. Your head would turn at every quick noise you caught. Your outfit really was a clever choice, the black blended nicely for the activities you need to carry out, and your eyes were completely covered, so the chance of someone even catching a glimpse of your eyes was impossible.

"How do you deal with it, all the conflicting sounds. It can't be easy, hearing all that you do."

A pause.

"It wasn't always easy, at first it was chaotic. They weren't sure what to make of me, so they placed me in an orphanage. Some of the nuns thought I was possessed. " you muttered. Leo swallowed. This was dangerous ground. Sometimes you'd give him little pieces of your past.

"This world isn't that pretty anyway, people think this disability is a curse, but it's a gift. My gift. I see everything through my other senses. I try to fix it. But everyone else, they see it all. The death, destruction, yet they are the ones truly disabled. Because they choose to be blind. "

You knew what your purpose in the world was, and this was it.

"Please don't.."

"Be quiet."

Leo straightened, and you turned to him. "Did you hear that?"

He nods. "He isn't sure what it is he just heard. It was an obvious cry for help, but the other voice came from inside the room. So it had to be a family member.

"I don't understand, why would they leave that relative with her if he's hurting her."

"It's because he's her step dad." Now he was even more confused. "She's a kid, what could she be doing that warrants abuse. I know parents are strict with their kids but-"

"He raped her." Leo's eyes widened. He took a step back, disbelief in his eyes. You couldn't see him. But there was no doubt genuine surprise.

"Your father, Splinter, I figured he sheltered you guys from a lot, and you've probably only been dealing with the minor threats. Bank robberies, common assaults. There's a lot more out there. Far more than you guys realize. You have no idea how much restraint it's taken me not to smash that man's face into a wall. It's been going on for weeks. I called the police, left notes for the mother. Even tried to get the girl to talk to me. Nothing. "

You tried getting him alone at night, you'd been studying his routine the moment you knew what was up, but there was rarely an opportunity. The hours he worked clashed with when you attended school, and every other chance he was always surrounded by someone. A friend, coworker, or his family.

"But he's...he's her.." Leo felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't comprehend it.

You just let out a dry chuckle. Dark, emotionless.

"The world isn't that black and white Leonardo. In this line of work, if you can't stomach the sight, you might as well be one of the other blind sheep."

Leo was still trying to gather himself. He finally registered that something was about to go down when he heard the sirens not too far away. "Their on time for once."

"W-Wait what are you.."

"If I can't get him for one crime, I'll just have to make him pay for another." he couldn't even ask what the actual plan was. You jumped over the edge of the building and Leo panicked.

"(Y/N)!!!!!!"

Gripping the ledge, you catapult yourself through the window, crashing into the glass. It broke, startling the man in the bed. He jumped off the girl in shock, and you tucked and rolled, cushioning your fall.

"What the hell!" He barely had a chance to pull up his pants. You drove forward, punching him square in the jaw. He took it, grunting and backpedaling as he crashed into the door.

"H-Honey!! Honey are you okay!!" you could hear the mother frantically yelling on the other side of the door.

"Mommy!!" your head whipped to the side. "I'm not going to hurt you." you said softly. You could hear the rustling of the sheets, she was cowering into the bed. "He hurt you." the girl didn't say anything, and you could hear the labored breathing of the step dad. He was still slightly disoriented from the hit.

"H-He said if I told anyone they wouldn't believe me. I-I was bad. I deserved it." It broke your heart to hear those words come from her mouth. "He's a liar. There's nothing you could have done to deserve any of this. He's a monster, you hear me, there's nothing wrong with you."

"Bitch!!"

That was becoming a frequent title. You just smirked when he picked up a bat from the corner. He raised it, striking in your direction. You dodged, moving in as punched him in the gut. He tried to use the lack of distance to get a hold of you, but you elbowed him in the jaw. He yelled out in pain, dropping the bat. You gripped the back of his scalp, driving his face harshly into the wall. It wasn't enough. You drew back. Clenching your teeth as you smashed his face harder. The crack of his nose was satisfying. Blood gushed down his face, and you released your hold on his hair, letting him face plant. He curled into a ball, wailing.

"Pussy." you sneered.

You shifted from the door, moving back to the shattered window. You could hear the police coming up the staircase. It was then that the mother finally forced her way into the room. She kicked in the door, standing in the doorway partially paralyzed at the sight of her spouse bleeding on the floor. "Mommy!!" the girl raced off the bed, right into her mother's arms. She caught her easily, hugging her protectively to her chest as she watched you wearily. It's then that she seemed to really take in the scene. Her husband's pants were down, and her daughter wasn't wearing any.

"No..." you sighed.

"Protect your daughter, if I see him back here again, I won't be so generous. " You raised your leg, stepping on the edge.

"NYPD OPEN UP!!" She could barely say much, the minute she turned at the call, you were already gone. Police flooded the house, and the little girl just held unto her mother, crying softly in her arms.

~~~~~~

"How did you...what did they take him in for." You and Leo were on the roof. You watched the aftermath of all that went down. Leo felt useless. He'd couldn't do much at that point but stay there and hope you got out before the police got there. The number of officers aware of his existence was pretty small, drawing in a larger audience, especially after his family was almost exposed, it was dangerous. He couldn't take the chance. That wasn't the only reason. Somehow he could still barely process the prospect of what that poor girl went through. From her own family no less.

"I planted some weapons I recovered from a russian mob a few weeks back. My plan was to just dump them at the nearest dock, but I guess there was a reason I held unto them for so long. Didn't think I'd need it, but it came in handy. Those guns have been used in numerous crimes around the city. That doubled with the charges his wife is gonna file, he won't see the light of day anytime soon. "

Your only wish is that you'd been able to do something sooner. Nothing was going to make up for the innocence that was stolen from that girl. Hopefully, with the help of her mother she'd be okay. Leo was quiet.

"You've done this already. "

Until now, Leo felt like he was making a difference, but he wasn't so sure anymore. You dealt with this often, no wonder you were so insistent on being left alone. If he had to deal with people like that regularly, he probably wouldn't trust anyone either.

"Don't doubt yourself. You're a good guy Leo. "

You could deal with the dark, it was a part of you. But Leo, he was pure. He still had hope in humanity. In some weird way, you kind of hoped he'd always be that way. You had no problem dealing with scum. It just meant that someone else wouldn't have to worry about it. You didn't mind suffering, it's all you'd known. You could bear it.

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emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

I Will Find You

Nessian final battle scene, from Cassian’s Pov.

*****

Feyre's voice was steady, calm as she said,

"Now, Amren and I need to go now." With the battle raging in chaos around us all, they could make it, but king would expect them, he would find them before they reached the cauldron. My mind raced to find something to distract him with, while Rhys made to shoot back to the ground, Feyre with him,

"Wait." He did, waiting for what else Nesta had to say, "Use me. As bait."

"No." Feyre just stared at her sister as I spoke, she couldn't, she'd die, I wouldn't allow that, never.

"The king is probably waiting beside that cauldron." She continued, completely ignoring me, "Even if you get there, you'll have him to contend with. Draw him out. Draw him far away. To me."

"How," Rhys breathed, Feyre still motionless in his arms, as if struggling to process what Nesta was suggesting,

"It goes both ways," Nesta murmured, "He doesn't know how much I took. And if ... if I make it seem like I'm about to use his power ... He'll come running. Just to kill me."

"He will kill you," I snarled, she couldn't possibly face him and survive, not now. She squeezed my arm, holding on tight,

"That's - that's where you come in." To protect her, to lay a trap. I could do that, protect her, even if it took everything, I would protect her, keep her safe.

"No." Rhys glared towards us both, the warning clear,

Don't be stupid, don't get yourself killed.

But I ignored it, almost laughing as Nesta dismissed him entirely,

"You're not my High Lord. I may do as I wish. And since he'll sense that you're with me ... You need to go far away, too." Rhys ignored her dismissal and said to me,

"I'm not letting you throw your life away for this." I ran my gaze across our lines, holding strong now as Azriel reached them,

"Az has control of the lines." He could keep them together while we did this, together.

"I said no." Rhys snapped, pure command lacing his tone, but I couldn't follow that order, not after everything he had done for us, not when I had a shot at repaying him,

"It's the only shot we have of a diversion. Luring him away from that cauldron." I held on tighter to Nesta, I would protect her, she at least would walk off this battlefield, "You gave everything, Rhys. You went through that hell for us, for fifty years." Feyre's face betrayed her own horror, he hadn't even spoken to her about it, any of it, "You think I don't know what happened? I know, Rhys. We all do. And we know you did it to save us, spare us." I shook my head, blinking as the sunlight shone into my helmet, "Let us return the favor. Let us repay the debt."

"There is no debt to repay." My brother's voice broke, his eyes brimming with tears as he realized what I intended,

"I never got to repay your mother - for her kindness. Let me do it this way. Let me buy you time." My own voice cracked as I spoke,

"I can't." Never, never had a High Lord cared so much, never.

"You can. You can, Rhys," he had to, I had to. "Save some glory for the rest of us." I flashed a lazy grin, trying to convince him that it was alright, to convince Feyre,

"Cassian-"

"Do you have what you need?" I asked Nesta, if I acknowledged Feyre now, I would shatter into a million pieces. Nesta nodded, Amren had shown her what to do, to rally her power, she looked down to Elain, then to Feyre,

"Tell Father - thank you." She wrapped her arms tighter around me, bracing to move, and squeezed her eyes shut as I shot for the ground.

Nesta opened her eyes when we neared the ground, pointing out the clearing she wanted, and clung on tight until I set her down again. Even when she stood on her own feet, she held on though, needing some sort of contact while she summoned that stolen power to her side. She squeezed my hand as the cauldron's power rallied to her, the power rumbling through the world, until it surrounded us entirely, blocking everything else out, until it was just her, and me. She opened her eyes, and the cauldron's power shone out through them, glowing silver as she gazed at me, and threw her arms around me, the silver of her tears indistinguishable from her power,

"I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"I would have come anyway, I will always protect you, Nesta, I promised."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, another rumble of power, urging the king to leave the cauldron, to let Feyre and Amren slip through. She steadied herself again, beckoning, her power singing to the cauldron, come, come.

I drew my sword the moment I sensed the king's approach, pushing Nesta slightly behind me, her eyes still shining with that unholy fire,

"Get ready," she breathed, barely holding back the death-blow that she would strike when the king arrived, "He's coming."

Dark power speared for us, and the King of Hybern winnowed right in front of us. Nesta's power rallied - and vanished. I didn't dare move, not as the king held a man I knew to be Nesta's father before him, a bade at his throat. She would not land that blow with him as a human shield,

"Nesta," he breathed, his attention crossing between her ears, her eyes, the power spluttering out in them, noting the fae grace with which she now moved. The king smiled,

"What a loving father - to bring an entire army to save his daughters." Nesta had frozen, her power drying up, I glanced around, looking for anything to give us an advantage, anything to save Nesta. The king tilted his head to peer at Nesta's father, eyes raking over his blood spattered body, weathered face,

"So many things have changed since you were last home. Three daughters, now fae. One of them married quite well." Nesta's father merely gazed at her, the king's words barely registering,

"I loved you from the moment I first held you in my arms. And I am ... I am so sorry, Nesta - my Nesta. I am so sorry, for all of it."

"Please," Nesta said to the king, even her pride fading away before this threat, "Please." One word, guttural and hoarse.

"What will you give me, Nesta Archeron?" Nesta stared at her father, shaking his head, silently begging her to strike. While the king's focus was on her, I moved slightly, trying to angle my blade for a clean shot, "Will you give back what you took?"

"Yes."

"Even if I have to carve it out of you?"Her father snarled,

"Don't you lay your filthy hands on my daughter -" The crack resonated through the clearing as his head twisted sideways, as the light in his eyes went out. Nesta made no sound, almost no reaction, but her breathing caught, and as she looked down at his body crumpling to the ground, her power went out. Mine did not.

I launched arrows of blinding red for the king, throwing up a shield around Nesta as I threw myself forward in front of her. The king laughed and met my sword with his own, stumbling backwards under my onslaught, I pushed him back, meeting each of his blows with my blade of magic, forcing him away from Nesta, and her father. I lost sight of her as we fought, blow for blow, he ducked one of my blows, I deflected one of his, neither of us able to get the better of the other. Even his strikes with magic were met by a shield of shimmering red around me, but with each blow that landed on it, my vision blurred, and I barley blocked his attacks, shouting for Nesta to go. Power roiled around us at the same moment that my shield finally shattered, and the king landed a blow, slamming his sword into my side, armor crumpling under the force. I let out a bark of pain as my ribs cracked and I collapsed sideways into a tree.

The king made to shove past me, to attack Nesta, but I stumbled back, blocking him, even as my siphons glowed and failed. The kings smiled as raw power slammed into me, flipping me backwards, and I screamed as bones splintered.

I opened my eyes moments later, surrounded by a pool of my own blood, my wings broken and useless beneath me. My arms buckled as I tried to rise, as the king stood over me, extending a hand, and I bellowed in pain as his power shot through me, making me arch off the ground as another rib cracked.

"Stop." Nesta stepped towards us, and I mouthed at her run, spitting out a glob of blood onto the moss beneath me. It took her a heartbeat to take in the scene before her, and angled her head.

Not human, not fae. Animal. Predator.

"I am going to kill you," she said quietly, the king's attention snapping towards her, his power leaving me, and facing her as he said,

"Really? Because I can think of far more interesting things to do with you." Nesta's fingers curled, the cauldron following at her side. The king snorted, and brought his foot down on my nearest wing. Bone snapped, and a scream tore its way out of my throat. At the same time, Nesta exploded, all of her power, all at once. The king winnowed away.

Her power blasted trees apart, blasted right across the battlefield, landing in the Hybern ranks, destroying hundreds before they knew what was happening. The king reappeared, surveying the cinders behind him,

"Magnificent. Barely trained, brash, but magnificent." Nesta's fingers curled again, as if rallying that power. But it was gone. She'd spent it all in one blow.

"Go," I managed to breathe, dragging myself towards her, broken wings and leg dragging behind me, leaving a trail of blood over grass and roots, "Go."

"This seems familiar," the king mused, "Was it him or the other bastard that crawled toward you that day?" Nesta ran. But not away, no, she ran for me, kneeling at my side, devastation shining in her eyes, but she did not stay to comfort, but picked up my blade, fallen where I had.

No, no, she couldn't win this one.

I tried to grasp her wrist as she stood, tried to stop her, but she stepped towards the king, lifting that sword before her, standing between me and the king. She said nothing, only held her ground, but her scent reeked of fear. The king chuckled and angled his own blade,

"Shall I see what the Illyrians have taught you?" He struck before she could move, and she leaped back, lifting her sword higher, clipping his blade with her own, fear blazing in her eyes. He lunged again and she retreated through the trees, away, away from me. She dodged another blow, stumbling backwards, and the king grew bored. He moved lightning-fast, slamming her sword sideways and spinning it out of her hand.

I cried out her name, desperately trying to reach her, and he struck her across the face, so hard that she fell to the floor. The king merely sheathed his sword, towering over her as she pushed off the ground,

"well, what else do you have?" Nesta showed him, turning her hand over as white, burning power shot out of her palm, sending the king flying, trees snapping beneath him, the last of the cauldron's power gone. She surged to her feet, blood at her mouth where he'd struck her and dropped to her knees before me,

"Get up." She sobbed, trying to pull me up. I tried, and slipped back down, "Get up." Tears were streaming down her face as she hauled at my shoulder, "You're too heavy," she pleaded, still trying to pull me up, her fingers scrabbling in my armor, dried blood flaking off, "I can't - he's coming -" She sobbed, tears splashing down onto my armor,

"Go." I groaned. Her power had released the king, if she didn't go now, it would be too late. He now stalked towards us. brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket - taking his time. He knew she wouldn't, she wouldn't leave. Nesta gritted her teeth, trying once more to haul me to my feet, but froze at my grunt of pain,

"Go!" I barked at her, she had to survive, she had to go, now.

"I can't," she breathed, her voice splintering, "I can't."

The same words Rhys had given.

I grunted in pain, but raised my hands to cup her face, the blood stark against her skin,

"I have no regrets in my life, but this." My voice shook uncontrollably with each word. "That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta." For the first time, she didn't withdraw at all, and allowed me to lean up and kiss her, lightly, as much as I could manage. I brushed a tear away, "I will find you in the next world - the next life. And we will have that time. I promise."

The king stepped into the clearing, dark power radiating outwards from his fingertips. Nesta looked up at him, saw the death twining around his fingers, then her gaze locked onto mine, and she covered my body with her own. I went still for a moment, then slid a hand over her lower back,

If we were dying, then we'd go together.

"Romantic," the king said, "But ill-advised." Nesta still didn't move, she didn't see the king raise his hand, power whirling in his palm. I held her as tight as I could, focusing on her scent. She would be my last memory when that power struck us. We wouldn't survive. But I would stay with her, we would find the next life together.

I turned my face into her neck, but the blow never came. When I looked back, the king's hand fell, and a choking noise came out of him, and a black blade broke through his throat, blood spraying outwards. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king's neck as she snarled in his ear,

"Don't you touch my sister."

The king slumped to his knees, desperately trying to dislodge the knife jutting through his throat, and Elain backed away a step, the fire gone from her, but not from Nesta. She lunged to her feet, heading for the king, gaping at her, blood dribbling from his lips. She gripped Truth-Teller's hilt, and twisted the blade. With every bit of pure Illyrian precision, she twisted the blade into his neck, severing bone and flesh. Elain reached my side as her sister finished sawing the king's head off, her every move calculated, clear, Illyrian. I couldn't help wondering what she would do if I ever got the chance to take her to the mountains, to meet the camp-lords. She'd tear them to pieces.

She glanced down at the king once, still trying to claw the blade free before she made the final pass, her eyes gleaming with that same death-promise that she'd had in Hybern, the king's eyes flared before his head tumbled to the ground.

"Nesta," I groaned nudging Elain away as I reached for her, the king's blood spraying her leathers, her face, her hands. She didn't seem to care, seemed empty as she took up the king's fallen head and lifted it, staring into his dead eyes,

"Nesta," Elain whispered, and the king's head fell to the ground again with a thud as Nesta blinked, realizing what they had done, she was staring blankly at Elain when her sister's gaze fell on their father's body, when the scream tore out of her. I barely heard Nesta's voice as my vision blurred again and I passed out.

I woke again with Nesta sitting beside me, my head in her lap, tears brimming her eyes,

"I'm okay," I murmured,

"No, you're not." Her voice broke, "Tell me how to fix it. Please, tell me how to fix it."

"You can't." I mumbled, my entire focus on her hands brushing the hair away from my face,

"I can." Az was sprinting for us the moment he landed, dropping to his knees beside me, barely mumbling a warning before his magic forced my bones back into the right place. Nesta murmured softly, her hands brushing away the pain as I bellowed again. Az quickly patched up the rest of my injuries, "He'll live."

"You idiot." Nesta whispered, waiting for Az to go to Elain's side, draping an arm around her shoulders as she stared blankly at her father. Nesta pressed a kiss to my brow before helping me to my feet, calling for Az to help her as she stumbled under my weight, carrying me between them as we made our way to the cauldron, to Rhys and Feyre, and Amren.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nesta #nesta x cassian #nessian #cassian #elain x azriel #angst #fanfic #fanfiction

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karoiseka · 3 years

Text

Forgotten Home

Spoilers for End of 5.0-takes place 5.1-2 ish. ((This is finally digging into a bit more of Karo’s backstory. I really took my time with this one, and am very proud of it. Hope you enjoy!))

The Twelveswood felt different. That was the only way Karoiseka could describe it. The First was saved, and she was back on the Source again, giving an update to the Scions still here, but had felt a pull to the woods just to the South of Camp Tranquil. The forest giants of years past had given way to a younger growth bordering Thanalan, the warm air from the desert colliding with the cool shade under the trees. She could feel Ardbert's curiosity at what they were doing there, paired with her own. The paths she had walked most of her life held an extra forgotten meaning that was clawing its way back into her memories. This wasn't just a hunting trail, like so many others, there--beneath the tall oak--she could remember her first hunting kill with her new larger bow, a gift from--

There was almost a physical pain as the forgotten memory surfaced, almost an Echo manifestation, and she could see a snapshot of the moment, Seirlait--her Da--proudly standing nearby. Her heart ached as she saw his face in her mind as clear as it had been that day. As clear as it had been when she had waved good-bye to them-both her fathers- a smile on her face as they headed out to help with the preparations for the clash at Carteneau as she stayed to look after the cabin. How? How had she forgotten them? Da and Pa both, the memories assailing her senses as feet tore along the trail heading to a destination her mind had not reconciled yet.

There- that tree had been so good for climbing.

The little stream that held such wonders to the small child she once was.

That clearing holding the best herbs for the evening stew to be cooked over the fire.

Tiny fingers weaving a flower crown, placing it triumphantly on Feophaux's (Pa’s) head.

The boughs of a willow creating a curtain to play hide and seek in--learning more skills from both her fathers.

The perfect reading nook nestled high in the treetops with just enough light.

Eyes unseeing of the present, Karo lived in the flashbacks of her past as every step closer to- closer to home. The word burned in her mind as a beacon, blinding her to all else. Was this what she had been seeking all these years? Wasn't that the Rising Stones? Hadn’t she found her other home in the Crystal Tower on the First? She vaguely remembered in her unforgotten recollections the Highlander and Duskwight, eyes full of grief as they watched her escape the cabin that she had lived in after the Calamity--and before she now knew again. The pain in their voices as they pleaded with her to remember them, and the anguish when she told them to stop calling her their daughter. She left shortly after, headed to Gridania to find her own way, adrift with scant more than the short bow she had been teaching-reteaching-herself to use, and a small pack.

The Calamity. It had to have been the catalyst of the memory loss, for she could see clearly now that nothing but muscle memory and a vague sense of what felt right were all that had remained from before that fateful day. Now she wondered what had changed again, even as the sheepish feeling from Ardbert guided her to an answer. The shock of living through the initial seventh rejoining of souls must have triggered the amnesia in the first place, her mind blocking the trauma of the moment. The acceptance and welcoming of Ardbert's soul to her own had healed all those splintered parts, even those that were unknown to her to begin with. It had taken time to come back to her, and a slightly longer stay on the Source than she had taken in a long while, but now that the trickle had started, the dam was broken--her mind filled with all that she had forgotten. Ardbert ensured that they didn't stumble through the frantic rush she made down the trail--not caring about the tracks she was leaving in her wake.

Malms later, her feet stopped and past and present collided as her eyes saw again. The small cabin was sealed tight against the elements, and the overgrowth in the garden and clearing spoke of no one having tended to them for at least two years. The Bard fell to her knees, a low keening sound filling the air--she vaguely recognized it as her own voice, grief overwhelming her. The run, much less the mental exertion, had taken a huge chuck of energy from her, and Karo wept, broken at the sight of her childhood home--empty.

As the sun crawled across the sky, Karo slowly took in the details of the clearing. Not much had changed in the years since she had left. The garden was overgrown, but the perennial plants fought for their place among the weeds. The archery targets were still affixed to the surrounding trees, all at different heights, some now hidden from the growth. Bluebells covered the small meadow, and she remembered stubbornly throwing the seeds all over instead of planting them in neat rows in the flowerbeds because they were her favorite and she couldn't see the flowerbeds from her bedroom window. Looking carefully, finally pacing forward on shaking legs, Karo noticed that the cabin was carefully secured--just as it had been every time they had left for their summer journey. The only thing that concerned her was that it looked as if they hadn't been back in at least one winter--maybe even two or three--not even passing through during the warmer months.

Digging into her newfound memories, she spun and headed to the tree that was surrounded by the most bluebells. The archery target there was still attached to one of the lower branches, but the Bard still had to climb a bit to reach it. Fiddling with the back of it, the small compartment made itself known, and the prize ended up in her nimble fingers. The front door key. Jumping down, she forced herself to walk fully around the house, checking for any breaches that could mean that the house wasn’t secure, or that someone or something, was residing within. Not finding even so much as something that would let a draft in, she braced herself and headed to the door.

The key slid into the lock, and only needed a slight bit of jiggling to get it to turn, the door itself stiff from disuse and the hinges creaking with the rust buildup. Karo was hit with the sweet smell of dried lavender, vanilla, and sweet cedar; all the smells she remembered that hearkened to what home meant. The curtains being drawn left the main room in shadows, the light from the doorway streaming into the air laden with the dust she had kicked up by entering. The cabin was one main room split with partitions into areas for cooking, dining, and leisure. There was a bedroom for her fathers off to one side, and a small bathing chamber on the other. The tiny loft above the bath area had been hers to claim, curtains creating a small wall for her privacy.

Leaving the door open for the light, and to air the place out a bit, Karo started to open the curtains to let in more natural light before she looked around for any clues to where Seirlait and Feophaux had disappeared to. Absentmindedly, she headed to the kitchen sink, and ran the tap for a few moments, letting the components loosen up and water to come back through the pipes since it had obviously been a while. Grabbing a rag, she wet it with the first bit of water that came through, and wiped down the counters, removing the thin layer of dust that had gathered. A quick peek at the pantry showed that beyond some items that kept for seasons, naught had been left. That was normal enough, so she continued on to the all-purpose room. The large fireplace on one end was one of two in the house that provided most of the heat in the winter, as well as some basic charms. The wall was lined with books of all types, and one of the racks of shelves was full of supplies for writing, and hooks for instruments that had obviously gone wherever their owners were.

Karo’s attention was pulled to her left, for there, lying on the table near the fireplace, was a folded piece of paper, her full name carefully written across it. Hands shaking, she picked it up carefully, blowing dust off of it as she broke the seal on the back and started to read.

Dearest Karoiseka,

If you’re reading this, it means, we hope, that you have found your way back home and that beyond our wildest dreams that you have finally remembered all that occurred prior to Carteneau.

After you left, we continued on best we could, despite missing you dearly. We know that we had spent a long time at Carteneau helping to clean up and transport people all over Eorzea, but we had not anticipated you not remembering us at all or anything from your childhood.

Some time after you left, at least a year, we started hearing your name out of Gridania--how you were a bit of a local legend as an adventurer. You had cleared out several dens of evil, and were becoming beloved by all that crossed your path. Incredulous, we followed any scrap of information we could get, hearing about the Scion, Primals, and Garlean forces and your role in taking them down only made us fear for your safety.

Then came the accusations from Ul’dah. None of which could be true. Word of you dropped off except for hushed whispers, before rushing back in a whirlwind of fantastical stories of you bringing the Dragonsong War to an end in Ishgard. We even made the trek to Mor Dhona hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but left before we did--partially because we feared you still wouldn’t recognize us. We heard that you were part of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn there, and even talked with an Ironworks engineer who said he had worked with you before. Knowing you were safe among friends eased our hearts for a bit as we headed home.

Another year passed and the uprisings in Ala Mhigo are now all that the city-states are talking about. The Scions are said to be helping with the organization and negotiations , so we have decided to pack up for this year and help. I know not if we shall cross paths while there, or if you will ever see this, but we must do what we can to help. Not only for those that live there, but for you as well. Knowing that we can hopefully take even a little of the burden off of your shoulders is all that we can hope to do.

We love you, and miss you, and pray that you stay safe and healthy through it all.

~Da an Pa

A hot tear splashed onto the paper in her hands as Karo put together the timeframe that they had been gone. They hadn't yet returned from the liberation of Ala Mhigo--and they had left near the beginning of the conflict, well over two years ago. Considering they had taken almost five years to return from Carteneau, she shouldn't be much surprised. They were probably helping courier refugees back home, and the wounded to the respective city-states. She paced the length of the room, worrying for their safety throughout the conflict as well. It had been extremely wide-spread with the Garlemald forces targeting anything and anybody they even thought were helping the Resistance. She had seen it time and time again from the small villages and hamlets throughout the region in the aftermath as she tried to ease her own guilt from not being there for them and tried to help with the smallest of tasks from anyone who asked. She knew logically she could only be in one place at a time, and that the forces she had been helping were the same. If they hadn’t done what they had, there was a chance the country would still be occupied even now..

Had she seen them though? Walked right by with unseeing eyes? Had they greeted her, only to get her strained public smile in return and a generic platitude--all that she could muster? Had she passed by their graves not knowing who lay there? She had talked to so many people all over the broken country, her mind raced, but all the faces were a blur. She had spent plenty of time in Doma as well, not counting for all the travel back and forth, during that time-paths may have crossed, or may have been missed without even the chance of happening.

Karo wasn’t sure how many times she re-read the pages, and wasn’t fully aware that she had curled up in the large armchair until the evening light hit her eyes streaming in from the still open door. Blinking blearily, she stood and lit a couple of the candles to provide some light in the growing dark. The house had electricity, however, she didn’t feel like finding and turning on the generator quite yet. She closed the door, and got a glass of water from the tap, scrounging for some trail rations that were still in her pack from earlier. The Bard didn’t remember relinquishing her bow and pack at the door, but old habits die hard, and they were neatly hung by the door on the pegs meant for that very purpose.

Tucking the letter safely in her bag she cleaned up the small mess she had made and went to the washroom to clean her face of the salt-crusted tears that had dried there. Not a thing had changed, towels and soap stored neatly away in the same places they always had been. The vase on the sink, usually filled with wildflowers picked during the day, was empty for the time--and she longed to fill it and keep the room cheery, but knew not how long she would be there herself. Responsibilities still loomed both here and on the First, her comrades bodies still laying still in the Dawn’s Respite.

As she climbed up to her loft, not much had changed since she had last been up here. When her memories had first escaped her, she had stayed down in the main bedroom, not realizing that it wasn’t her’s. The loft she had never quite gone up the ladder-like stairs, and so it remained very similar to when she last called it her own. The bed was made, but with an additional sheet covering it all to keep the dust off, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. The hope that lived in her parent’s hearts nearly broke her own, as she caved to exhaustion finally, Ardbert’s comforting presence allowing her to drift off to sleep when she thought it was the furthest thing from her mind.

On the morrow, Karo would write her reply and leave it where she had found her own letter, secure the cabin once more and return the key to it's hiding place. She wouldn't forget again now that her soul was healed, yet her obligations would keep her busy, she knew. When she had time, she would ask her various contacts, hoping beyond hope that someone has news, and if they didn't, that her note would be read, and that they would return once more to the Rising Stones, asking for her proudly by name.

#ffxiv #karoiseka #karo's backstory #My writing #proudofthisone #I really like how the chair pose came out too #did that from scratch #I got a little lazy with the other shots #might redo them later #if I keep the apt set up like this #bought and decorated a whole apt just for some of those

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martellthemandalor · 4 years

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OMG THANK YOU FOR WRITING THE CUTE NICKNAMES FIC!!!!! I was so happy when I read it and it was so good!!!!! I was wondering if you could write a sequel where Mando tries to teach the reader Mando’a and shes getting frustrated that she can’t get some of the words down so Mando comforts her and there’s just a lot of fluff? Thank you💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

(read part 1 here!)

Hello again sweet anon!! I’m so happy you liked your last request :)

This one was just as fun to write, soft!Din is possibly my favourite thing atm. I hope this is what you had in mind! So without further ado:

It’s All In The Nicknames - Part 2

You wanted to scream. Actually and literally just scream. Right in his face, or rather your face as that was all you could see being reflected back at you in the dark shine of his visor. The pair of you had been at this for over an hour. You heard him repeat the word again, using the soft coaxing tone that only really came out when trying to get the child to eat some damn vegetables instead of another live frog. You took a breath.

“Ad’ika, meaning little one, daughter or son,” You repeated back to him dutifully. The word felt foreign leaving your lips, like it didn’t belong anywhere near you.

“Almost, but the emphasis is on the ‘D’ not the ‘A’, like this: ah-DEE-kah,” He said, gently correcting you. You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you, your eyes briefly leaving his visor before fluttering back.

“Ad’ika,” You responded, nodding your head slightly as you emphasised the ‘dee’.

“Perfect cyar’ika!” (“sweetheart”) He praised. You weren’t sure exactly how many times he’d said that now. Every other time you pronounced any Mando’a phrase correctly he would repeat that sentiment, as if he himself had drilled it into his head the way he was drilling these words into yours. Those words, that once would make butterflies fill your stomach, had lost their lustre to you now. “Next one, cabur.”

“Cabur, meaning guardian or protector.” It still didn’t feel right. Din had been teaching you these phrases over the past month or so, but for whatever reason you just couldn’t get it right. You patiently waited for his response. You knew you had said it wrong, Din knew you did to, he could read it plain on your face. His hesitation seemed to last a lifetime, so you braced yourself for him to give up on you. Your hand drifted to your chest, palming at the heavy mental pendant that rested under your shirt.

“Nearly, kah-boor.”

You couldn’t even look at him.

“Kah-boor,” You said quietly, on the verge of giving up yourself. Din tilted his head at you, the lights of the cockpit making the beskar shine in a multitude of shade. Normally you would have been entranced by the way reflections danced in his helmet, but you couldn’t summon your usual wonder to even look at it.

“I need a break, excuse me,” The words tumbled from your mouth, almost catching on the tidal wave of tears you could feel building behind your eyes. You shot out of the cockpit, dropping unceremoniously into the hold.

Din slumped back against his pilots chair, head resting against the plush headrest of the seat. The kid cooed at him from their crib and when he looked over, he saw their little arms in the air. He sighed as he leant over the picked the child from the floating container, nestling them in his lap.

“You don’t happen to be able to read minds do you?” He asked earnestly, stroking a finger across one of their soft ears. They babbled back in return, tiny hands patting at Din’s leather clad own. “Yeh, I didn’t think so.”

He looked from the big orbs of the child to the open cockpit door and the ache to follow you spread across his chest, but he knew that he was probably the last person you wanted to talk to right now.

“I just want to right by them, kid, I really do. I thought this was the best way to do it. When I asked them, I mean you were there, but I was so sure it would make things perfect for us, my aliit,” (“family”)He looked back down at the green child in his lap, who was so intently listening, ears pricked up just to hear Din speak. The sight made his heart swell. “The lessons are supposed to help them, but right now they’re just upsetting them. It hurts to see them sad.”

Even more than that really, it broke his heart every time your face fell when you couldn’t get your head round the words. He thought it shattered today though, you couldn’t even look at him when you got it wrong. No the kid wasn’t a mind reader and neither was he. He needed to talk to you.

“I should go after her shouldn’t I?” He questioned the small creature, who babbled happily in response. “Thought so. Good talk, little whomp-rat.” Din placed the child back in the crib, closing the lid on it so they couldn’t get to the control panel (again). Then he slipped out the cockpit to find you.

You’d crawled into the bunk that you and Din shared and shut the divider, blocking out the lights from the hold. There you sat, knees curled up to your chest, and in your hand you held the silver pendant of your necklace.

You traced the bumps and ridges of the cool metal with your thumb, the action soothing you a little as you sobbed quietly. The tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need your eyes to tell you that the metal had been forged into Din’s Mudhorn signet, Maker knows you’d traced the shape of it on his armour with your fingertips enough times to memorise the shapes.

The divider slid open with a heavy schuk , flooding the small space with light. Instinctively you tucked your head into your knees. You knew full well that it was Din who’d opened the door and you didn’t want him to see your tears, your weakness. Then you felt the worn spring of the cot dip at your feet, a gloved hand lightly coming to rest over your own crossed ones at your shins.

“Mesh’la?” (“beautiful”) Din said softly, “Talk to me.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Large sobs wracked your body, separated only by gasping breaths. Din didn’t say anything more, simply removed his hand from yours. The action made you only cry harder, thinking that your worst fears were true, he did think you were weak. Weak and stupid.

You were so sure of it that when you felt the bed shift even more and his warm, leatherless hands surrounding yours, you almost stopped crying out of shock.

“Come here cyar’ika,” Din coaxed, manoeuvring the two of you so your back was resting against his armoured chest. He folded is arms around you, hands never leaving yours and in this small space it made it feel like he was surrounding every inch of you. It’s the most comforting thing you think you’ve ever felt.

Slowly the crying subsided. Your Mandalorian held you tight and gently smoothed his thumbs over the soft skin of your hands, silently soothing you through it all. Inside your combined grip was the Mudhorn pendant, the metal now warm between your palms.

“I’m sorry Din,” You eventually said. His grip on you tightened momentarily. Then he sighed.

“Don’t apologise mesh’la,” He replied firmly, “But please tell me why you’re so upset, I don’t know how to help you.”

Your heart nearly splintered at that. Even after this, you being so difficult to teach and now crying about it, he still wanted to help you. Maker above you loved him with everything.

“I just feel like I’m letting you down Din. When you asked me that night, when you gave me this, you told me you wanted me to be a part of your family for good. And in return all I could promise…” The words petered off as your mind reeled with the memory of that night.

The night he had asked you to be his Riduur. His Wife.

The memory burned in Din as well. He’d been so nervous, so scared you’d say no. He’d already been to see the armourer and gotten the signet pendant, his signet, forged out of his own damaged thigh plate. He’d threaded it onto the black string of the necklace himself.

He’d landed that evening on Naboo, knowing how much you loved the water, hoping it would show you that he remembered these small details about you. It was all worth it when he saw your face as you walked onto the vibrant grass of the world. Though nothing could ever compare to your face when you realised what he was asking, the weight of his words.

You knew how much of a big deal the Riduurok (marriage agreement) was, you knew it meant he was ready to show you his face. You were so overcome that silent tears had escaped your eyes as you breathlessly answered “Yes.”.

In return you promised to learn some Mando’a, more than the basic endearments you already knew at least. Din had sworn that it wasn’t necessary, but you could hear the excitement in his voice, the longing to teach you another part of his religion, part of himself. And yet here you were, messing it up and letting him down.

“How could you ever be letting me down, mesh’la?” Maker he was being so gentle. One of his hands moved from yours to carefully wipe the tears from your cheeks, and then he began stroking your hair. You sniffled, leaning into the soft touch.

“Because you’re going to give me so much, maker alive Din you’re going to share your creed with me, share your face and your soul. I mean how can I ever give you something so incredibly special in return? So I thought you would at least be able to introduce me to your creed brothers and sisters with pride, tell them that I can speak some of your mother tongue. It was the one thing I could do for you in return. But all I’ve managed to be is a disappointment and an embarrassment.”

You twisted in his arms at that, burying your face into the fabric between his chest plate and pauldrons. Din’s hand never left your hair, he kept stroking it while the other hand drew patterns across your back.

“Cyar’ika, you have already given me something I myself feel impossible to repay. You gave me your unconditional love, you have from the start. Even when I believed I couldn’t be loved like this, you were right here to prove me wrong,” Din’s voice was painfully sincere; you could hear it even through the vocoders modulation.

“Do you know what else you gave me? You gave me a family. Ever since my parents…” He stalled at the mention of his parents. This time it was you who held him tighter, arms snaking under his and pulling him impossibly closer. “We have a saying, ’Aliit ori'shya tal'din’. It means ‘family is more than blood’, when I was young it felt like a stupid excuse, a way to glance over my lack of true family. Now it feels like it couldn’t be truer, because you and the child are my family.”

He pulled away from you, one hand cupping your cheek while the other prised the pendant from your closed fist. He held the signet up, right between your faces.

“When I asked you to be my future Riduur I gave you this. It’s my promise to you, that we will be under one signet. Our clan of three. Seeing you wear it gives me more pride in you than anything else.” He looped the string of the necklace back around your neck, positioning it neatly at your sternum.

Then he tilted his helmet so the beskar touched your forehead. Closing your eyes, you let your smile find its way back you, savouring the warm emotion swirling around your body at his words.

Din had never spoken to you so much in your time together, the fact that he was comfortable enough with you now to talk like this made your heart ache with joy.

“Thank you Din,” You whispered, almost afraid your voice would somehow break the spell of the moment.

“I love you, cyar’ika, I’ll do anything for you,” He replied, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Even continuing our Mando’a lessons?” You asked sheepishly. A breathy chuckle passed through the helmet, causing an answering giggle to rise from your own chest.

“Yes mesh’la, especially continuing our Mando’a lessons,” he pulled you to his chest once again, revelling in the closeness of your bodies and your soft skin under his fingertips. “I’ll even tell you the secret of it. When Mandalorian’s speak in Mando’a we do not speak from the head, it’s what we use to speak from the heart.”

Your eyes shot wide in realisation. The words you spoke with ease were the ones you connected with the most, which were essentially only the nicknames you used with Din. Knowing that, you thought, maybe this whole Mando’a thing wouldn’t be so hard after all.

“I love you, ner cabur,” (“my guardian”) You murmured into his chest. Din almost cried at your perfect pronunciation, his head swimming with joy at the sound of you talking his language with your whole heart.

“I love you to, ner meshurok.” (“my gemstone”)

#💜 anon #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fic #el answers

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