#most likely forced from their homes or killed or sent to camps of some sort? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ontheroadrp · 1 year

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GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, JACQUELINE “WHISKEY” DANIELS (olivia cooke fc)

life on the road can be tough, but we’re glad you and yours made it to taos!

the runaway app

basics

[olivia cooke, f, she/her] ever heard about [jacqueline “whiskey” daniels]? Out here on the road, they have a reputation of being [+courageous, +resourceful] but also [-standoffish, -untrustworthy], no wonder they’re called [the runaway]. According to local legend, they’re [nineteen] and when they pull up to camp not a soul can mistake the sound of [please please please let me get what i want by the smiths] following them. Some say they carry [a hand-me-down walkman, a tattered journal, and a rusty locket] and have been traveling with [the militants]. [rocky, 28, pst, she/her]

full biography (tw: sexual abuse, physical abuse, drinking)

jacqueline lucy daniels didn’t cry when she broke through her mama’s belly. everyone who had been in the room that day said she looked like a plum when the doctors finally pulled her out—a result of her umbilical cord being wrapped so tightly around her neck that it nearly killed her. in retrospect, jackie wondered if this was her body’s way of warning her or trying to spare her of what was to come.

annie lee daniels brought her first daughter home without her husband at her side. he was in vietnam, fighting for his country like all the good men were back then. she’d prayed and prayed and prayed that whiskey (or jack daniels, if we’re talking legal names) would be home by october of ‘66…that by some miracle he’d be sent back in time to hear jackie’s eventual first cry. but no. so annie sent him letters and tried to fill him in on his little girl’s life as best she could, but the postman never brought her a response. it wasn’t long after jackie’s birth that her mama got the telegram. jack wouldn’t be coming home.

after losing the love of her life in another pointless war, annie was devastated and utterly lost. how was she supposed to raise a baby by herself? bitter and angry at the world, she helplessly packed up the house she shared with her now dead husband and moved back to greenville, south carolina, to the same house she’d been born and raised in. jackie’s grandma, aunts and uncles felt as much like her parents as her mother did, and back then? life wasn’t half bad…dead daddy aside. but then came warren.

warren johnson was beautiful. everyone knew it—even jackie. he had hair as gold as the sun and eyes so blue and so kind they could make even the toughest men cry. it came as a surprise to no one that annie was smitten from day one. warren was a simple man. he was a miner and also a veteran who’d done a couple of tours in vietnam. most importantly, he was crazy about annie and jackie. he stepped into the role of ‘daddy’ faster than anyone else in the family could say ‘shotgun wedding.’ less than a year after they got together and married, warren and annie welcomed jackie’s baby sister, montana. at three years old, there was nothing jackie loved more than the gurgling baby girl her mother had brought home swaddled in a blanket.

life wasn’t kind to annie lee daniels johnson, because just when things were getting good, tragedy struck. again. warren and the other men who worked in the coal mines had started talking about going on strike given the conditions they were forced to work in, but their bosses weren’t having it. and then one day, in the middle of summer, the worst case scenario became reality. jackie was too young to fully grasp what had happened, but she gathered that there had been some sort of accident at work. it had been bad. and now, daddy number two had joined daddy number one in heaven or wherever it was that dead people went.

after warren, jackie watched as her mama became a complete shell of herself. one heartbreak was bad, but two? it was unsurvivable. as annie withered away, jackie got close to her aunt ruth, who helped her figure out how to take care of montana when mama wasn’t feeling up to getting out of bed. it was hard, but jackie did what she had to do. anything for her mama and anything for her sister.

when dale smith came knocking on annie’s door, begging for a chance to take her out on one date, jackie was nearly ten years old. he wasn’t much compared to jackie’s daddy or to motana’s, but he got mama out of bed. that was something. one date turned to two and with a man at her side again, annie had a newfound reason to live. she married dale and finally moved out of her family home with her girls. they were going to be a proper family and it wasn’t long until annie was pregnant again, this time with a boy.

the first time dale touched jackie was when annie was miscarrying in the backseat of his car on the way to the hospital. mama was nearly unconscious and jackie was in the front seat, in a state of complete shock, while dale reached over and did what most men did when no one could see them. after annie and dale lost their baby and the doctors told her she wouldn’t be able to have any more kids, things at home got bad. dale developed a drinking problem, which did nothing to help his anger issues or his inability to keep a job. the more dale drank and the harder it was for him to find work, the more he abused jackie. and it wasn’t just sexual, it was physical too. jackie never told a soul about what dale was doing to her. teachers and family questioned her about the bruises and broken bones, but she always lied. it wasn’t until the bruises started popping up on montana that jackie came clean and told annie. annie immediately left dale, but he found a way to weasel his way back into her arms. and then things would be good for a bit…and then they’d get bad again.

the cycle continued until jackie got to high school. once she was fifteen and started looking more like a woman than a child, her mom turned on her. suddenly she was a whore and it was her fault that dale did what he did. when montana got to high school, she got the same treatment. between the two of them, montana had always been braver. smarter. where jackie still had some hope that things would get better and that they could be normal, montana knew that the only way out of this fucked up situation was to take off. so that’s exactly what she did. jackie was 17 when she woke up and her sister had skipped town. she’d left behind her locket and a note that said you’re the only thing left for me here, but i can’t do this anymore. i love you. xx m. jackie never told her mama about the locket or the note. she let annie go on assuming the worst.

after montana ran away, everything got worse. annie became obsessed with finding her youngest, which meant she was neglecting dale, which meant he was fixated on jackie. given her age, jackie had started working at a local diner to start saving up her own money. it was her get the hell out of south carolina fund and it was her north start. jackie stored all of her cash in a shoebox under her bed, but one day when she got home late at night, a couple of months after montana had snuck out in the dead of night, she found the box empty. she knew immediately that dale had taken it, of course he had. after a disappointing confrontation with her mother about everything that had happened to her and to her sister since dale had walked into their lives, jackie decided she was done too. annie would never leave dale and dale would never stop. so, with nothing but the work uniform on her back and the locket and note her sister had left behind, jackie walked out the door to the nearest highway and stuck her thumb out. anywhere was better than here.

life on the road was lonely and scary for a while. but things got easier once she succumbed to her bad luck. she started doing unspeakable things for money like stealing and sleeping with men who offered to pay her. to be frank, dale was kind of a walk in the park compared to some of what she had to deal with on the road. eventually any trace of jacqueline lucy daniels was gone. a few months of doing what she had to do to survive and she was no longer the meek, innocent girl who still believed she’d find her sister somewhere out there. now she was whiskey, like her father. cold, strong, esoteric and independent.

now it’s been two years since she walked out her mama’s door. she still wears montana’s locket, now rusted, but the note is long gone. she stole a walk-man from a fifty-something she slept with somewhere in arkansas and her crappy knapsack holds her journal, her most prized possession, but is otherwise stuffed with crappy hand-me-down clothes and mixtapes containing morrisey’s croons and janis joplin’s belts. she’s not scared of dying anymore. all she knows is that she’ll never go back to south carolina. the rest is up to god.

stats

Athletics: 0

Burglary: 3

Contacts: -2

Crafts (Sewing, mending, basket making, weaving, etc. etc.): 2

Deceive: 3

Drive (like, actual driving ability): -3

Empathy: -2

Fight: 2

Investigate: 2

Lore (Kinda like knowledge): 1

Navigation: 0

Notice: 3

Physique: 0

Provoke: 0

Rapport: -1

Resourcefulness: 3

Stealth: 3

Will: 2

extras

playlist - pinterest

#submission #accepted #the runaway

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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Cabin In The Woods [M] ~ BC [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4K

GENRE: SMUT, non idol au

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

A/N: I had to name the camp this there was no other wayyyyyy Hope you like it!

Camp crystal lake home to some of the most adventurous kids every summer the camp would be home to 200 kids with 16 camp counsellors all in charge of them and you were there every year, along with one of your best friends Bang Chan who was a counsellor as well as a lifeguard that worked on the lakes. The entire camp was huge despite there only being nine cabins that the kids could stay in. Eight of them would house 25 kids within their age ranges since kids from the ages of 13 to 17 came to the camp you had to keep them all in different groups so that group activities were fair to everyone. While the younger kids stuck to swimming, football and other outdoor activities the older kids got to learn and do more. Archery, boating, horse riding, and many more things were all part of your daily activities around the forest. There were two major lakes in the camp, Wilderice lake and Crystal lake the one that the camp was named after and each was just off from the cabins that went on a long stretch of road. Everything was pretty close together the only cabin that was far away from the rest of the camp was Seneca, which was known as the punishment cabin. Mostly because kids who had done terrible things were sent up there, only allowed out to go to the toilet, or meal times other than that they had to sit there bored while everyone else got to do the fun activities. Not completely unsupervised of course, that would be dangerous. A camp counsellor would always go to check on them to make sure they weren't doing anything they would regret or that they weren't in any danger.

"Y/n!" You turned around hearing your name being screamed from the entrance and smiled as you saw one of your favourite kids rushing over to you. A bag around her shoulder as she sprinted into your arms, you span her around a little.

"Hey Alice," You laughed as the small 15-year-old girl began telling you how much fun she was going to have over the summer with everyone.

"I invited my best friend along, Brenda!" A brunette turned around when she heard her name being yelled and jolted over to you and Alice.

"We wanted to see if you and Chan were dating yet," You laughed loudly upon hearing Alice, Chan and you were known among everyone as the flirting pair but it was nothing more than playful banter.

"You're too young to think of boys that way," You began messing up Alice's hair when she moved away from you, whining and straightening out her hair.

"I'm not, I'm 15 and I know you and Chan lovvveeeee each other," You glared at her playfully about to tell her she was wrong when Chan came to stand beside you.

"Ah the trouble maker," He whined out, pretending to be upset that Alice was standing there. She was by far your favourite kid there, always willing to do whatever it took to have fun and even helping out around the camp when she needed to.

"We were just saying how-" Alice stopped speaking when her mother came over, kissing her on the cheek as she began to cry about leaving her at the campground as she did every year. Not that you blamed them, it must have been a nightmare leaving your kids somewhere for two weeks and having no means of communication.

"I'm new, you must be Chan. I've heard a lot," Brenda said as she began shaking Chan's hand with a giant smile on her face, blushing as she turned to look at you.

"Good choice," You pushed her and Alice towards the bus that would take them down into the camp and you ignored as Chan asked what that was about.

"Go, you have your first round of kids at the lake in an hour." You whined as he walked up behind you, tickling your sides as he demanded to know.

"Tell meeee," He whispered in your ear, it felt as though a bolt of lightening ran through your entire body and you whined at him once again. Slapping his hands away from you and shaking your head,

"Go to work, I'll tell you later." Later meant you had enough time to come up with some sort of lie instead of telling him that Alice and Brenda thought you had a crush on him. Which you did but he didn't need to know that. Things between you were good and you didn't want to ruin that by admitting that you had a crush on him, playful flirting was easier than losing him.

"Who have you got this year?" Chan asked as he sat down beside you in the archery field. It was pitch black sine it was around midnight, the two of you had been so busy with the first day of camp you'd barely seen one another besides a brief encounter at the lake.

"Ages 13 to 14, what about you?" You questioned as you looked up from the folder you were studying from, every year you liked to try and get to know each of the kids you would be looking after for those two weeks. Getting to know their names, likes and dislikes as well as what they were allergic to and everything else you would need to know.

"16 to 17," He said with a giant smirk plastered across his face, the camp counsellors that were blessed with the older kids barely had to do a thing around the camp. Take them on the odd walk around the forest or make sure they weren't trying to kill ne another with equipment but that was it. They were practically adults and could look after themselves, of course the counsellors would be around if they needed them.

"You're going to get stuck with the younger ones one summer, even if I have you force you to myself," You joked as you jabbed him with the end of your pen, leaving a small black mark on his white crystal lake shirt.

"Already in uniform?" You frowned looking down at him as you realised he was wearing the red shorts and white shirt combo that was giving to you every year.

"I thought I would be the first one...That and I accidentally spilt a drink down my only good pair of jeans." He mumbled as he looked at you, you began laughing softly before laying your head on his shoulder tiredly.

"It's going to be a great summer," He whispered to you as he nudged your softly,

"Fire night, bring your scary stories and marshmallows!" Someone screamed making you move apart from Chan and nod your head.

"I've got the perfect scary story," You smirked. Fire night was the night camp counsellors got together to try and tell the best story as well as sharing food something you did every year when the kids all went to bed on the first night. It was somewhat of a tradition amoungst everyone for old and new counsellors to get to know one another.

"You probably stole mine from last year," Chan rolled his eyes at you jokingly and you rolled yours back,

"Oh yes because yours about the child who had diabetes was so scary Christopher, I'm still shaking." You pushed his shoulder and got up from the seat you were sitting on, watching as people began filing over in the direction of the fire grounds. It was a huge campfire with logs around it so that everyone could be warm.

It turned out that your story had nothing on what Chan was telling that year, your story was about a girl who got lost in the woods but Chan's was far more creative.

"Jason was never seen again after he entered the lake and every year when the counsellors came to the camp to set up they were all murdered!" He clapped his hands together making you jump as he continued to tell the story of a masked serial killer killing off counsellors one by one using different ways that were all nearly impossible yet creative.

"Then just when the counsellor thought she was safe in the water Jason swam up and dragged her down to the bottom of the lake!" Chan finally finished and you did your best not to act as scared as you were about it. It wasn't as though the story was completely impossible, the thought of someone randomly walking onto the camp was easy and they could just as easily kill everyone if they wanted to.

"You okay?" Chan questioned when he sat back down beside you on the log, giving you a hot chocolate as you stared into the flames.

"Y-Yeah, peachy," Your voice cracked and Chan knew that you weren't okay, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"I'll keep you safe," He whispered as you snuggled closer to him just enjoying the feeling of being that close to him.

"I'm heading up to my cabin, walk me?" You questioned as you noticed how late it was getting, you weren't scared of the woods but walking around in the dark wasn't something you opted to do alone most nights especially after the story that had just been shared by Chan.

"Sure," He chuckled softly as he began walking down the field with you heading in the direction of your cabins, all 25 kids seemed to be sleeping so your night was going to be easy.

"Are you scared?" Chan nudged as you clutched onto his hand tightly as you stood outside the cabin debating going in or staying with him a little while longer. The sparks you were getting from his hand begged you to stay and feel them longer but you knew you had a long day tomorrow and couldn't.

"N-No," You lied obviously as he smirked at you, hugging you tightly.

"I'll be right next door, if Jason comes for you I'll save you," You pushed him away before going over to the door and opening it up.

"Night," You whispered to him before heading into the room, Chan stayed outside for a moment just waiting for you to come back out but you never did. He hoped you would come back out and beg to stay with him for the night because you were so scared but you never did.

"Night," He whispered to himself before walking in the direction of his cabin for the night which was right next door to yours.

The next day was ruined by the thunderstorm that seemingly appeared out of no where. No outdoor actitivties could be done since it was unsafe for everyone to be in the water and no one wanted to get sick out in the cold.

"Does anyone know where all the board games are?" You questioned as you sat in the dinning hall, 200 kids all staring up at you with unimpressed looks on their faces. You didn't blame them, this was supposed to be one of the best summers of their lives and yet here they were spending it trapped inside where it was raining so hard you thought it was night time.

"Punishment Cabin, we kept them up there last year for Tommy and Ned since they were in there so much." One of the counsellors mentioned as she looked at you, none of you could figure out how to get the kids to calm down so if this was the only way then so be it. Board games and indoor games it would be.

"Christopher. We're going for a walk," You ordered as you grabbed him by the back of his jacket, pulling him towards the door as you stared out at the rain. It was coming down so hard that it looked as though it was a tap gushing out water,

"Why? Why can't you go alone? I'm so dry in here," He whined looking at you but all you did was give him your large puppy dog eyes and he melted, giving into you right away and grabbing his umbrella.

"Let's go." He grumbled as he began heading out into the rain, the two of you sprinting off in the direction of the cabin which was secluded from everything else around the camp.

"Punishment Cabin," You mumbled as you looked up at the cabin, the roof was leaking a little and the door was wide open thanks to the wind.

"Let's get the games and leave," You told him as you headed inside finding everything practically ruined that had been on the floor. It was all soaked in water and the roof was leaking inside and on the beds dripping onto the mattresses.

"Oh shit," He whispered as he looked around noticing everything, a clap of thunder sounded and you jumped back knocking into him as the door slammed shut behind you both jamming in place.

"What the fuck?" You asked as you twisted the handle trying to open it but it was locked in place, not even budging a little no matter how hard you tried to pull on it.

"Here, let the man do it." You scoffed stepping away from the door and watching in amusement as Chan continued trying to do the same thing you had been but with little success,

"Let the man do it," You mocked playfully before sitting down on one of the dry chest of drawers.

"You're just going to sit there?" You shrugged your shoulders since there wasn't much else you could do, the windows were bolted shut from the outside and it wasn't as if you could just smash them open.

"Look, they know we're up here. They'll come looking when we don't come straight down." You reassured him as you shivered a little, it wasn't exactly the warmest in the punishment cabin but you would only be there for an hour at the most.

An hour turned into three and you were sitting in front of the fireplace together trying to stay warm. No one had bothered to come to look for you but not because they didn't want to but that they had planned for this. As soon as the counsellors saw that it was going to rain all day they set their plan into action deciding to take matters into their own hands. They were going to arrange for you both to go up to the cabin and have someone follow behind you, locking you inside and only letting you out when they knew that you had finally confessed your feelings for one another. It was juvenile but they didn't care, every year it was the same. Endless flirting together, the costant hints that you btoh had a crush on one another and they were finally going to make sure you ended up together in ways that were more than just friends.

"I'm cold," You shivered as Chan started up the fire place that was in the cabin, he'd found old scraps of paper and some matches in the drawers you'd been sitting on and started it up. The thought of you getting sick made him feel bad as he looked over at you,

"Here," He whispered as he began laying down dry blankets and pillows in front of the fire.

"We'll warm up together," He promised as you sat down on the floor beside him, his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Maybe it was the cold or the fact that you were snuggled together in such a romantic setting but you couldn't help but stare up at him in awe.

"Thanks," You stuttered out as he kept you close to him, your body felt as though it was going to surrender to him. Sitting so close, hearing his heartbeating and the way his fingers traced small patterns on your skin was doing all sorts of things to you. A wetness dripped betwee your tighs as you squeezed them together trying to ignore the sensation and focus on getting warm but it was hard with him right there.

"You know what might warm us up faster," You finally broke the silence as you glanced up at him, the two of you had been sitting in front of the fireplace for ten minutes.

"What?" His voice was smooth as he looked down at you, eyes seeming to sparkle in the light of the fire, one thing came over you and you kissed him. Smashing your lips against him and rolling him back against the floor. At first he didn't do anything, he held onto you until he realised what was happening and gave into the feeling of having your lips on his own.

"F-Fuck," He stuttered out as you pulled away to look at him, his lips were pink from the kissing and you could feel your body heating up from the embarrassment of randomly kissing your best friend.

"I-I'm sorry...I don't know...I just wanted...I've wanted to do that for so long," As soon as the words left your mouth Chan kissed you once again pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed you softly.

Your hips began to move out of habit and you felt him harder beneath you which meant he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

"N-No one is around," You whispered breathlessly as you began to kiss down his jawline and down his neck. Whimpering at the thought of finally lettin him take you the way you had always dreamed,

"We would warm up faster," He smirked as he ran his hands down your hips pushing at the red short shorts you were wearing. Your whole body tensed as you realised it was finally, really going to happen.

"Do you want to?" You nodded at his question and he kissed you again, making out with yo as you both slowly removed one another's clothes piece by piece.

Laying down completely naked in front of him should have made you nervous but with Chan you weren't at all, he looked at you as if he admired every inch of your skin. Taking a good look as he licked his lips, kissing your lips softly,

"You're so beautiful," He whispered as he ran his fingers down your stomach until he was at your clit, slowly rubbing your wet bud in circles as you let out a whimper.

"So wet, how long have you wanted me?" He smirked as he pushed a finger through your folds, your toes dg into the floor as you mewled out,

"Tell me," He whispered again as he pushed two of his long fingers into you, curling them up to hit your g-spot again and again making your head spin.

"A while!" You stuttered out as you began squirming underneath him as you moaned out his name.

"Me too,2 He whispered as he began kissing you deeply, thrusting his fingers deep into your soaking core. Wet noises filled the cabin as Cha continued to take you with his fingers.

"C-Chan," You breathed out as you gripped onto the blankets that were surrounding you, you felt intensity building up inside of you.

"I-I'm gonna-" You couldn't cum before he took his fingers out of your abruptyly and smirked as he began kissing you possessively, your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him close to you.

"So needy," He chuckled as you let out a hiss when his cock ran through your folds,

"Shut up and fuck me, we've waited too long." You begged as your breath as heavy, he smirked shaking his head and kissing down your body.

"I want to taste first," He whispered as he kissed towards your core, he lingered above your cunt and looked up at you to check that it was okay. Once you gave him a nod he dove his tongue between your lips and began flicking your cunt with his tongue.

"Oh shit!" You screamed out as your hands worked their wayy into his hair, pulling him closer as he continued to eat you out, biting down softly on the part of your outer labia making your eyes roll back.

"J-Just like that," You cried out as you felt your orgasm building again, he hummed against your cunt and you shuddered over and over again as he continued to eat you out like you were his last meal.

"C-Cumming," Your voice cracked as the pleasure exploded in you without warning, your head threw back against the pillows and you filled the cabin with your desperate moans of his name.

He kissed you sweetly as he lined his cock up with your opening, teasing you with the tip as he smirked against your lips.

"No teasing," You whined out, too desperate for any games that he was planning in his head.

"As you wish," He pushed his hips forward slowly, sinking into you. You moaned out squeezing your eyes tightly at the stretching, he stayed still for a moment wanting you to feel comfortable before he even tried to move inside of you,

“Y-You can move," You whimpered as you opened your eyes, his cock felt incredible inside of you, you felt full as you gripped around him as if he had always belonged there.

"Shit you're so tight," He whined out as he grunted, slowly pulling out of you only to thrust back in as he let out a small moan.

"Mmm Chan, please," You begged, digging your heels into his ass wanting him to move faster than he was and he smirked,

"Chan please," He mocked playfully before he began to move his ips faster, fucking into you as you let out moans of pleasure he was sure people would have heard even from the dinning hall.

"Just like that!" You screamed out as he began thrusting harder into you making you squeal out as he rammed in and out of you. Cock hitting so deep you thought if he came it would be deep in your gut.

He continued to fuck into you hard, changing between slow and passionate thrusts to hard and fast ones as he stared down into your eyes.

"Holy shit," You cried out as you felt yourself tighrening around him, the build up becoming too much as you began to cry out his name, pleasure reeling inside of you.

"You close?" He questioned as he felt you tightening more and more with each thrust of his cock.

"Cum for me," He whispered as he bent down into your ear, biting down as you wrapped your legs around his waist drawing him closer if that were even possible until you finally came undone around him. Grunting out he pulled out of you, cumming onto your stomach as you giggled up at him.

"Shit," He panted watching in awe as you ran your fingers through the liquid and licked your fingers clean.

"Y-You're going to be the death of me," He panted ashe laid down beside you and took a deep breath.

"We should move babe," He whispered an hour or two later after you had been laying there, the sun was out and someone was bound to come looking for you now that you had been gone for so long.

"Here-" He handed you the shirt he had been wearing and then your shorts before he slipped on his coat since he had used your top to clean up your stomach.

"Babe?" You looked at him with a smirk on your lips,

"You don't think I'm going to just have sex with you and leave it be, do you? I'm in love with you." He whispered as he kissed your lips again, the door opening just as you kissed each other.

"They finally kissed," Someone announced out of the door, if only they knew the two of you had done a lot more than kissing in that cabin that day.

Tagline: @taestannie @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @minholuvs @anxiousbobatea @justbangtanthingz

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griffintail · 3 years

Note

I love all the parental stuff you write, it’s all so amazing!! And I may have been thinkin about it a lot while at work, and I originally wrote this idea/prompt thing down on some receipt paper, but anyway!!

Y’know how Dream manipulated Tommy during Exile? Well, how would Dream react if a similar thing happened to his own child? If his child had been taken from him somehow, and is made to believe that no one loved or cared about them, that they had to behave a certain way if they wanted any smidge of affection, etc.? Like the kid, when Dream’s gotten them back that is, is obviously touch starved and sleep deprived and so many other things, but they don’t mention any of it because they’d been explicitly told doing so wasn’t allowed?

About how many pieces would Dream’s heart shatter into? I must know.

-Signed Angsty Anon from a Fast Food Joint🍔🍟

That’s a mood, I have an actual notebook I have at work to write work stuff...I write more in it about my prompts than my work stuff. I hope it’s to your satisfaction!

Little Terror

Pairings: Parental Dream x F! Reader

Part 2

WARNINGS! : TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, IMPLIED ABUSED, MANIPULATION, BLOOD, IMPLIED VIOLENCE

DO NOT READ IF THESE MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE AND/OR CAUSE A TRIGGER!

(Y/N) was Dream’s kid. Dream didn’t have to worry, that’s what he told himself.

When she wanted to go with that…boy…he knew she’d beat the shit out of him if he got out of line. He taught her how to do that. She assured him though, there would be no need for that. They were in love and they’d be ok.

He should have listened to his fucking instincts. He knew he should have.

He found out by accident what was going on.

Dream trusted his little girl, she’d be ok, she was strong…but she was still his little girl and George and Sapnap were about to break Dream’s neck if they heard one more time how Dream was worried.

So.

The three of them went to where the pair had moved out. Dream remembered letting his little princess move away.

“I’ll be fine daddy.” She gave her sweet laugh as she slung her inventory bag on her shoulder. “Trent’s a good guy.”

“I just wish you’d let me meet the boy.” Dream huffed, his mask on top of his head.

“He lives so far away; I don’t want to force him to come all the way here and you need to keep everyone in check.” She grinned, a sparkle in her eye. “I’ll write, I promise. I know if I don’t Uncle George will cry.”

Dream laughed quietly as he nodded. “Yeah, he would. Just, be careful out there, alright sweetheart?”

(Y/N) put a hand on her sword. “I’m not the little terror for nothing.”

It had been so sudden but she wanted to be close to this boy she had started dating. She hadn’t written though as of late and he had begun to worry when for a few months, it just didn’t come. That’s what sent them out with Eret in charge.

“Come on, she’ll be fine.” Sapnap nudged him, hands in his pockets. “She’s your little terror.”

Dream smiled lightly behind his mask. “Yeah. We’ll see there’s nothing…I just worry and I have been missing her.”

Three-day travel on foot, they made it to the village where (Y/N) said this guy lived on the outskirts of. It wasn’t hard to find the larger house outside the village and they came up, Dream knocking on the door. It took a moment but the door opened, (Y/N) looking at him, but…it didn’t look like his little girl. Her eyes were dull, with no spark to them as bags were collected under them. She had no smile on her face either but everything looked perfect and trim about her.

Her eyes went wide seeing Dream’s eyes as his mask was on the side of his face, sputtering.

“You…I—You don’t trust me?” She questioned.

Thousands of alarm bells were going off in his head and a thousand more went off after her words.

“What? Of course, I do (Y/N).” He gave her a light smile. “I just missed my princess, so did Sapnap and George.” He motioned to the men behind him. “So, we came to surprise you, surprise.”

She didn’t hold any sort of excitement in her eyes. Trent’s words echoed in her head as she watched the man in front of her.

If he really loved you, he’d trust you to be ok with me. Right? Because I love you and I trust you.

“I…I think it’s best if you guys leave.” She muttered.

Dream stood there as Sapnap and George were looking at each other in shock.

“Why? We came out here to see—” As he spoke Dream reach a hand over to put it on her shoulder but she flinched back from him and all movement and thought stopped.

She flinched from him. Why would she flinch from him?

Dream had seen men flinch from him before; Tommy, Wilbur, most of the L’Manberg people did after the war. But that was because he hurt them…

“What happened?” Dream asked carefully.

“I-I-I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sputtered, her mind running rapidly.

She couldn’t tell him, that was the number one rule!

“(Y/N), it’s me. Dream, dad. I’m here.” He spoke carefully. “What, happened?”

“What’s going on here?” Dream heard from behind him and (Y/N) shrank back behind the door slightly.

Dream didn’t not like the picture he was making and the tall, lanky man appearing did not help matters. The man was slightly taller than Dream but Dream slipped on his mask as he was anything but intimidated.

“You Trent?” Dreamed asked, stepping forward.

Trent looked to (Y/N) and then back to the man coming towards him.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“I’m her father and I want to know what the hell you’ve been doing with her?”

Sapnap stood a few steps behind Dream as George stood by the door.

“I have no idea what you’re talking—”

Dream simply shoved the man and he fell over. The masked man stood over him, his hands on his hips.

“What, did you do, to my little girl?”

Trent tried to kick Dream’s leg but Dream was quick to react, sidestepping his foot and instead stepping on the other man’s chest and putting his sword point to his throat.

“(Y/N).” Dream looked over at her, lifting his mask up enough to smile at her. “Go get your stuff, George will help you.”

She hesitated by the door as George stepped towards her carefully.

“Come on kid,” George said quietly to her and she nodded slowly.

She walked inside, Dream sliding his mask on as he grinned sinisterly behind it as he tilted his head as he looked at the man under his foot.

“Now, why don’t we have a little chat?” Dream laughed.

George was very careful not to make too fast of movements after seeing her flinch at Dream. He helped her pack the few things she had; George was concerned as he felt like she had less than what she actually left with. As he gathered everything up, he also saw how little she had in the way of personal belonging, such as pictures. The most significate thing he didn’t see was her old mask and that concerned him greatly. The color-blind man was worried about what Dream would do.

The pair came out, George carrying her bags to see Dream without his mask on, his hands in his hoodie pockets as Sapnap smirked next to him with no Trent in sight. George could spot the small bit of blood under the cuff of Dream’s sleeve. There was no blood on his weapons, so it was safe to assume he had used his actual hands and the other man was probably alive but he was never going to be the same.

“Hey sweetheart, let’s go home.” Dream smiled gently as he nodded his head.

Her hands twitched but she walked beside the three of her family members. Dream was on her right as George was on her left and Sapnap behind the group. The group of them walked in silence towards the Dream SMP land. As night started to drop, Sapnap and George made camp, and Dream and (Y/N) sat by the campfire.

When the two other men were going for firewood, Dream looked as (Y/N), who was playing with the end of her shirt.

“I don’t know what he did.” Dream said and she jumped slightly, making him frown deeply. “And you don’t have to tell me right away, but I’m here sweetheart. I’m never going to leave you alone again.”

She hugged herself as she looked around at their surroundings, expecting Trent to come out of anywhere.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” She whispered. “But did you come because you loved me?”

“Of course, I did.” He assured her and she hugged herself tighter. “Can I hug you, kiddo?”

“I-I-I-” She stuttered.

He carefully scooted over and first put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened and Dream waited before he pulled her into a hug. With the hug, her entire body relaxed, having missed such a loving feeling. She started to sob and he pulled her into his lap and hugged her as tight as he could.

His little girl, she was so broken. He didn’t know how that lanky, bitch boy managed to break her but he did. Dream ran a hand through her hair as he rocked the both of them as his heart was broken seeing his little girl like this.

“It’s ok princess, I’ll make all this right.” He muttered. “I’m so sorry this happened, I’ll make it right.”

He hated himself. He should have gone with her the first day she left. He should have done anything! He had to make this right now and he’d do everything in his power to bring her back. To make everything right.

....

George and Sapnap came back seeing Dream holding a now sleeping (Y/N) as close as he could. Their friend looked so heartbroken as he held her.

“I should have killed him.” Dream said. “No one else will ever get away with doing this to her. Are we clear?”

The two other men shared a look before nodding to Dream.

“Crystal.”

Dream wouldn’t let this happen again and it was going to be a long time till he managed to fix his mistake.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #dream x reader #dreamsmp

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kikis-writing-world · 3 years

Text

Pregnancy Announcement HCs

Drabbles under the cut for how Pedro boys would react to your pregnancy, and how you’d share the news. Trigger/content warnings: Pregnancy (both planned and surprise,) mention of abortions as an option, talk of contraception, smut (including cum play, cock warming,) mentions of PTSD and past drug addiction, mentions of dead former partners, blood, periods, doctors/obgyns, single parent/father not wanting to actively participate. If I missed anything, please let me know! Lack of editing as usual...

Pics are for inspiration, not always an exact replica. All take place in a sort of modern AU where there might be a social media to post pictures to.

Dave York

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Dave already has a family and he made it very clear that he wasn’t leaving them for you. When you found out, you were terrified he would demand you terminate the pregnancy - heck, you considered it briefly yourself. You thought long and hard about your options even before telling Dave.

His first reaction was about as bad as it could get: he said nothing, got up and left. He returned a few hours later when you had already cried yourself hoarse. He held you in his arms as he spoke clearly and carefully. He asked if you wanted to keep the baby, and when he said yes he almost seemed torn. You don’t know if it was wishful thinking that he was excited to have another child, but you swore you saw a sparkle in his eye… of course, it wasn’t that simple.

He told you it wouldn’t be easy for you since he would never be with you like that - you were just the nanny he was fucking. If you wanted to go it alone, he would help financially and support you as much as he could, but he couldn’t claim the baby as his and risk losing his daughters.

You were going to have to go the single mother route, and if anyone asked you’d have to either say it was a fling or the father wasn’t interested in being in the picture.

Din Djarin

In all honesty, you were surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Din loved to cum inside of you. He’d lay with you, his softening cock still inside you to make sure nothing slipped out. When he finally did, he’d watch with amazement as your body twitched as it adjusted to emptiness. Gently, he’d push any dripping cum back into your fluttering hole. His deep, gruff voice was laced with exhaustion and lust as he would talk about filling your pretty pussy, not wasting a drop…

When you started getting ill, you at first thought it was just a passing bug. It was inevitable with all the travel that you would fall under the weather. Two weeks into the churning stomach, you realized you missed a period.

When you brought it up to Din, he changed all travel plans - the bounties could wait, he had to get you to the nearest clinic ASAP. The test coming back positive had him glowing with pride. It was hard to convince him to wait until further along to announce the pregnancy, knowing anything could happen in these early stages. As soon as you gave him the all-clear, he did everything but shout it from the rooftops. By the time the picture was posted -your headgear, his helmet, and a tiny helmet between - everyone already knew anyway.

Ezra

It was a surprise, but not a shock. You and Ezra, although you tried to be safe, definitely had a habit of being caught up in the moment and forgetting certain precautions. A walk through the forest that led to a beautiful field of flowers, a picnic on a moonlit beach - there were times Ezra was so overwhelmed by your beauty and the beauty around him that he just got swept up. It was hard not to get swept up with him.

He was ecstatic when you told him you thought you might be pregnant. He could hardly wait for you to take a test. His knee bounced anxiously as you waited the 2 minutes, holding your hand tightly in his. The positive result brought tears to his eyes as he embraced you close but gently, already scared of hurting the baby. He saw it as nothing less than a blessing. He dropped to his knees as soon as he let you go, already talking to the bundle of cells, calling them his little shining star. The nickname sticks throughout the pregnancy, leading to a beautiful space-themed nursery and all events leading up to the birth, including the announcement.

Frankie Morales

You’re absolutely terrified to tell Frankie. You knew he wanted to be a father, but the two of you had talked so much about the fears you shared about being parents. Mental health, substance abuse, financial stability - it made the concept of “starting a family” overwhelming.

Your stomach rolled the whole time you waited for him to get home from work, little plastic test taunting you from the table. What if it set him off? He’d been sober for years, but you knew every day was a new battle. You were so consumed by your own thoughts, playing out how he might react in your head, that you didn’t even hear him come in.

“Are you…” He half-asked the question, eyes darting between you and the test. You couldn’t find your voice, only nod. The facial change in him was immediate: broad smile and wonder in his eyes as he laughed, scooping you into his arms. You clung to him just as tightly as he started laughing, too much joy coursing through him. As he started crying “holy shit, I’m going to be a papa,” how could you have possibly doubted he’d be anything but ecstatic?

You each tell your closest friends and your families, but you manage to keep it under wraps for the first months until posting your announcement and shocking everyone. Toes in the sand at the beach of your favorite camping spot, imagining the sandcastles and other games you’d be playing in the near future - it was everything you could ever want.

Jack Daniels

The two of you were religiously careful. You had talked about a family, but had agreed that until Jack was ready - which may or may not happen - you were going to prevent it. But life finds a way…

You find out much later than you would have liked - nearly 3 months in, you missed the whole first trimester. Looking back, there were obvious signs of pregnancy but you just didn’t think it was possible. You and Jack find out together at a doctor’s appointment. You leave the office shell shocked with a stack of pamphlets to consider your options and an appointment for next week. When you get home, Jack doesn’t even talk about it. You try to bring it up a few hours later, but he ignores you.

Finally, 3 days later, you can’t take it anymore. You feel like you’re in this completely alone at this point as you yell at him “ignoring it won’t make it go away!” Jack breaks down and tells you he’s so damn scared. He cries in a way you’ve never seen him cry, talking about how he wants a family with you but he can’t go through that kind of loss a second time. It nearly killed him the first time and he wouldn’t be able to handle it again. You talk long into the night about all of it - both of your fears, worries, dreams, thoughts - nothing is off limits as you talk about all the possibilities lying in front of you. Even through the fear and trauma, one thing is clear: you both want this.

It’s not easy, but your doctor helps relieve some worries. She speaks frankly to you about the development of the baby along the way and suggests a therapist that might be able to help, as well as classes you can take on parenting. It doesn’t take long for the worried “what ifs” to be paired with excited “whens.”

Javier Peña

When Javier Peña walked into your small town police station, you thought you were dreaming. Sent to help with a case that your rural forces didn’t have the experience to handle, he was only supposed to be in town as long as the case took. You never imagined you, just a lowly admin, would catch his eye.

It didn’t take long for you to tumble into the bed of his hotel room. And your bed at home. And your car. And his truck. And just about any possible surface in between. What you thought was a one night stand turned to three, then four, and soon into a full fledged fling. You knew the expiry date hanging above your heads, so you kept your feelings for the charming (if a little gruff around the edges) agent locked deep away. The case took about two months, and then he was gone just as suddenly as he arrived.

A month after his departure, when you found out you were pregnant, you didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t even left you his number, so you were sure he had no plans to see you ever again. Should you track him down and let him know, or just carry on with this on your own? You spent night after night talking to the growing baby, asking what you should do.

Javier ended up answering the question for you, when he unexpectedly walked into the station once more. He asked to speak with you privately before admitting he had missed you. He told you about trying to forget you, only to spend most of his evenings telling his father about you. Eventually you cut him off with a kiss, telling him you’re glad he came back. You take his hand, placing it on your stomach when you tell him you had been thinking about him too.

Javi helps you secure a transfer to Laredo and even though you technically have your own place, you’re spending practically every night with him anyway. If anyone wondered why the move, well the recognizable mustache on your announcement answered their questions.

Marcus Moreno

Marcus doesn’t believe you the first time you tell him “I think I’m pregnant.” He remembers his wife’s pregnancy with Missy, and you haven’t shown any of those signs. You roll your eyes and tell him that every woman and every pregnancy is different, but he still doesn't believe you. It isn’t until he’s staring down at three tests, all positive, that it clicks in his head he’s having a second child.

He’s excited, but he admits he’s scared. He’s older now, what if he can’t keep up with a baby? More than that, he’s worried about Missy.

You both know you don’t want Missy to feel left out or replaced by a new sibling. The two of you have a good relationship, but of course there were speed bumps to get there. She understood you weren’t trying to replace her mother. Would she be as understanding, knowing that you weren’t trying to replace her?

You and Marcus sit her down and tell her together. Before you can even start on your planned spiel about how the family is growing and no one is getting replaced, she is talking a mile a minute about having a little sister. You and Marcus share a relieved breath and lock eyes before you have to remind her that it might be a little brother. This seems to dampen her mood a little bit, but overall she’s still excited… even if she is adamant she isn’t touching any stinky diapers.

Another way you make sure to include her, is how you announce it to your friends and family. You’re sure, with Marcus’ status, it will get out to the public eventually, but you start by sending close friends and family a picture of Missy wearing a shirt calling her a “Big Sister.” She loves the photoshoot, making all kinds of faces as you snap away on your phone. Happy, sad, pouting, crazy… they all go in the baby book.

Marcus Pike

It was only a few months after your wedding that you and Marcus were ready to start a family. You didn’t “start trying” as much as you “stopped preventing.” There were a few false starts when your period would be late or the time you caught the stomach flu, but a few weeks short of your first wedding anniversary, you were pregnant.

Marcus spent many nights laying next to you in bed, hand on your stomach as he just stared at you - to the point where you actually started to get annoyed by it. He was amazed at your body changing, at the growing child inside of you, that he was finally getting the “happy ever after” he’d been looking for all his life.

The announcement was hilarious to shoot. Marcus and you were covered in paint splotches, laughing with love shining in your eyes. You held a palette Marcus knelt in front of you with a paintbrush, painting “Masterpiece coming soon” on your stomach where the bump had just started showing with the right angle.

Max Phillips

Max knew before you did, even if he didn’t put it all together. He started complaining that you tasted different, smelled different. Not just your blood, but as he spent hours trapped between your thighs. His keen senses had him identifying a change, but neither of you knew what change it was. After all, as far as you knew, a vampire couldn’t get a human pregnant.

Max whined when your period was late - he loved your time of the month. “Best of both worlds” he would say as he feasted on you for as long as you could stand it. It had happened before, your period being late due to stress or illness, but this time it wasn’t just a day or two. A few weeks later nothing had happened. A quick trip to your gynecologist confirmed it.

“I thought you said there was no way you could be pregnant,” she teased as she showed you the results.

Max was shocked, scared, and then proud as a pig in shit. He was terrified to be a father, but he hid that behind a swagger and a “yeah, I knocked her up. Not even death can stop these swimmers.”

Even if you did try to hide it for much longer, the vampires he worked with could smell the change in you too. Put together with Max’s protectiveness over you being ramped up even more than it had been… it was easy to figure out.

You took the picture as a joke - it was supposed to be a compromise that if you took this photo, he’d take the cheesy ones you wanted - but damn if it wasn’t your favorite of the bunch.

Maxwell Lord

You know that Maxwell had a bad history with family. First his parents weren’t as supportive as they could have been, and then his ex-wife had all but used Alistair against him anytime she could. You knew he may be nervous when you shared the news, but you didn’t expect him to turn into Maxwell Lord, television personality instead of your Max.

The first question out of his mouth was “is it mine?” Which broke your heart and set a fire in your gut. You threw anything you could get your hands on at him screaming at him for accusing you of cheating on him. You had just started to calm down when he mentioned lawyers and set you off again. You knew his past, but you truly thought he loved you and that you were his future.

You left, booking yourself in at a hotel. You didn’t leave the room - not only had you not packed anything and knew the paparazzi would devour a picture of you looking so disheveled, but you just couldn’t find it in you to go anywhere. You stayed in the room, ordering room service, watching TV, and crying. In a fit of rage, you had thrown the bottles from the mini bar across the room, needing to channel your anger and knowing you couldn’t drink your sorrows away anyway.

He showed up a few days later, having followed the credit card charges to the hotel, looking remorseful. He apologized for the way he reacted, and you heard him out despite still being upset. There was a long talk in which you reminded him that you’re not his ex or his mother. You’re not trying to screw him over or get anything from him by having his child. It takes him a long time and a lot of groveling for you to truly forgive him, but you go back home that night.

A few months later, as the two of you take a picture on his yacht, both of your hands holding your growing bump, you can hardly tell the fight had happened at all.

Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand

Ellaria noticed before you did. A mother herself, she picked up on the glow in your skin, the change in your body, and the complaining about aches in your back or your breasts. When she pulled you aside and suggested you were pregnant, all you could do was blink. The three of you didn’t use protection with each other, only when others were invited into your bed. You’d never gone out of your way to prevent pregnancy, so while it shouldn’t have been shocking, it still caught you off guard. Ellaria brought you to her doctor, sitting with you while you found out for sure.

You were nothing but excited to share your news with Oberyn. You knew how he felt about you, about love and passion, about the children he already had. You had no doubt that he would love your child just as much as the rest of his daughters. The night you told him was spent making love while he waxed poetic about you, your body, your child... If you hadn’t already been pregnant, you’re sure you would have been at the end of the night.

With sand snakes spread across Dorne, you struggled for a way to tell them all. Sending letters didn’t seem to do the moment justice. This may be Oberyn’s 9th child, but it was your first and you wanted an extravagant way to share the news.

Ellaria helped you to plan gathering all the children together. It wasn’t easy, but a month and a half after finding out, you had the whole, huge family together. You posed them all for a picture with you, Oberyn and Ellaria front and centre. You were handed a sign to hold for the picture - supposedly showing the family crest. However as soon as the picture was taken, you turned to show them.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata @phoenixhalliwell @dihra-vesa @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @spideysimpossiblegirl @thottiewinemom @mrschiltoncat @anaaaispunk

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undercoveravenger · 4 years

Text

A Pirate’s Life For Me

Creature Week 2020: Day Two

Pairing: Harry Hook x Siren!Male!Reader

Request: “Harry Hook rescued by a male!siren reader?”

A/N: This is set in an AU where the villains were never trapped on the Isle, so Harry grew up on the Jolly Roger with his father.

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Harry had been working on his father’s ship practically since he’d been born, but in all that time he had never seen the typically crystalline waters of Neverland become this rough. He’d seen the Jolly Roger weather storms before. He’d smelled the salty sea air grow thick with the scent of rain and watched as the dark wooden planks of the deck speckled with the falling droplets of water. He’d seen the sails billow and tear when the winds came ripping through more suddenly than the crew had been prepared for.

This was no normal storm though. The sails were being shredded up on the masts, the wind was thrashing the tail ends of the rigging around like whips and no one had been able to pull them in. Harry had abandoned his previous post almost immediately when he realized just how bad the storm was getting and did his best to help mitigate the damage.

He’d barely managed to reel in one of the flailing lengths of rope and get it tied down when he found himself slammed into by a wayward boom, the thick beam uncontrollable since the vicious winds had torn through the sail. The force knocked him from his feet and sent him plummeting over the ship’s railing and into the freezing water below.

Harry flailed, trying in vain to flounder his way to the surface but only succeeding in tiring himself out. The weight of his heavy leather coat and the sword and scabbard strapped to his hip dragged him further beneath the frigid waves as they soaked in water.

His movements had started to slow and his vision was going dark when he’d first seen it. A dark figure had flitted past him, barely discernible from the black depths around him. Then he’d felt the thickly-muscled tail brush against the back of one of his legs and, as his consciousness finally slipped away from him, Harry hoped that he would drown before the siren chose to do more than observe him.

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

When Harry had woken up and found himself lying on the sun-warmed sand of an unfamiliar beach, he had been sure that this must have been the afterlife. The burning ache of his ribs where he’d been struck by the beam during the storm when he tried to sit up had been enough to convince him that the events of the previous night had really happened.

He forced himself to sit up quickly, ignoring the pain from his bruised chest in favor of attempting to identify his surroundings. He was sure that this was not the main island of Neverland, but it also had a very different appearance than any of the smaller surrounding islands that he had been to. He supposed that the ship could have drifted during the storm, but he doubted that they’d made it into a previously uncharted archipelago. But then, how had he ended up here?

The last thing Harry had known, he had been drowning and the ship had been far enough from land to have made washing up on some beach nearly impossible.

“Oh good,” came the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “You were out so long I was starting to wonder if I hadn’t gotten to you in time.”

Harry wheeled around at the sound of the stranger’s voice, eyes widening as he locked eyes with the most attractive guy he’d ever seen. The stranger was laying in the water on his stomach with his chin propped up on his hands, seemingly undisturbed by the freezing temperature of the water as waves crashed up over the bare skin of his back and shoulders. Harry forced himself not to linger on the stranger’s shirtlessness, instead shifting his attention to the damp waves of thick (h/c) hair falling over captivating (e/c) eyes and the alluring smile he was being offered.

Harry swallowed sharply, suddenly struggling to remember how speaking worked, “You? You were the one who saved me?”

The (h/c) nodded, shoulders straightening proudly, “Yeah, I was swimming nearby and saw you fall off your ship.” He ducked his head, looking almost abashed, “My sisters told me that it was what you deserved, but I didn’t agree so I dove after you.”

“Your family wanted you to let me drown…?” Harry wasn’t exactly sure what sort of people would want to let someone drown, but he had the distinct impression that he probably wouldn’t like his savior’s family.

He shrugged, rolling over onto his back so he could look up at the sky, “Wouldn’t be the first time. It’s kind of what we do.” At the baffled look on Harry’s face, the (h/c) let out a huff. Harry watched as the stranger shifted his weight back onto his shoulders a little, using the new leverage to lift his legs out of the water.

Except it wasn’t legs that emerged from the frothing waves. No, instead, the (h/c) lifted a huge, gleaming caudal fin from its previous place hidden under the water, droplets and rivulets trailing down the length of the tail toward where it merged with his torso.

At first glance, Harry had assumed he was just one of the merpeople that lingered in Mermaid Lagoon, but he quickly noticed the distinctive differences. Merpeople had beautiful, elegant tails that came in a rainbow of shades more appropriate to showing off than for use in hunting. Sirens on the other hand? They were made to kill and one good look at the (h/c)’s tail had Harry convinced that he knew what he was dealing with.

His scales shone a brilliant emerald color and the myriad of colors that made up the caudal fin nearly camouflaged the set of poisonous spines hiding along the length of the fin. Harry knew, even without seeing it, that a similar set could be found along the shorter fin that trailed up the back of the tail.

After all, sirens were deadly even without their captivating songs.

Harry scrambled back at the sight, pushing himself further up the beach in an effort to get away from the creature.

The (h/c) let out a disappointed huff, letting his tail drop back against the water with a loud slapping sound. He dropped his head back against the sand, but Harry knew he was still under observation. “You realize that if I were going to make a meal of you, I would have done it by now, right? I had the perfect opportunity before. Y’know, when you were drowning?” He sighed as Harry made no move to relax, eventually pushing himself further into the water and slipping off below the waves.

Harry knew that even with the siren out of sight, it still posed a massive threat. He wasn’t sure exactly how long it would take for the crew to find him, if they ever did, so his first priority needed to be securing himself a shelter. He wasn’t sure how large the island really was, but he decided that he would rather make his camp near the beach than in the thick jungle that loomed beyond the welcoming white sands. He’d just have to make sure to take some precautions to ensure that his silver-tongued visitor would not be visiting unexpectedly.

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

It took him several hours to set up a shelter that he deemed secure enough, and several more to find enough rocks to serve as a sort of barrier. He spent the rest of the day arranging the stones in rows three or four deep around the sea-facing edge of his camp, the most jagged edges facing the water. He knew that rocks alone would do little against a siren, but it made him feel better to think that if the creature wanted him dead enough to drag itself out of the water after him, it’d at least have to risk injuring itself.

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When Harry awoke the next morning to find the siren lounging in the same spot as it had been yesterday glaring reproachfully at his meager stone barrier, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction.

The (h/c) turned to look at him as he emerged from his shelter, (e/c) eyes glinting oddly in the light. “What’s this for?”

“To keep you away from me,” Harry replied evenly, crossing his arms over his chest.

The siren rolled his eyes grumpily, dragging a claw-tipped finger along the edge of one of the rocks, “And here I was going to offer to take you back to the other humans once you were healed.”

Harry let out a bitter laugh, “And get back in the water with a siren? Not a chance.”

“Good luck meeting back up with your family then,” the siren retorted, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. “There are not many boats that come this far. There are too many of us up here.”

Harry’s eyes widened; if the siren was telling the truth, then he really was on his own. There would be no chance of rescue if he was deep in siren territory. He swore at the realization, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Why should I believe you?”

The (h/c) shrugged, pushing himself to sit up further to watch the waves come rolling in, “I have no reason to lie. Because of you, I have no family to go home to. No one to protect but myself.”

The brunet was confused. “Because of me? What did I do?”

“I saved you,” the (h/c) replied simply. “They saw that as a betrayal. Thought that I was putting a stranger above the wellbeing of the pod and decided to cast me out.” He smiled wryly, eyes fixed on the horizon, “I have no one but you now.”

The siren’s honesty had Harry feeling a little guilty about his earlier hostility. And the (h/c) had a point when he said that he could’ve just let him drown, but instead he’d tried to save him and he was offering to take him back to the ship as soon as he was better.

Harry took a deep breath as he made his way closer to the siren, kicking a few of the stones out of the way as he approached. The (h/c) looked stunned by his change in attitude, but he chose to remain silent even as the brunet sat down beside him. “My mom died when I was little,” he started slowly, azure eyes fixed far past the boy beside him. “She’d gone out on the ship with my dad and his crew and when they came back she was gone along with almost half of the crew.” The breath he took was shaky and Harry felt like he didn’t have nearly enough air in his lungs to continue, “My dad says it was sirens; they were lured off of the ship by their singing and drowned.”

The siren’s (e/c) eyes were wide as he looked back at Harry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Harry replied slowly, “I just wanted you to understand why it’s hard for me to trust you.”

“That makes sense,” his companion nodded, the end of his tail flicking and creating a mess of tiny waves that washed up over Harry’s feet and wet the ends of his pants. “You can call me (M/N), by the way.’

“The name’s Harry,” the brunet replied, watching the light dance off his new friend’s scales hypnotically. His lips quirked up as he realized that being trapped here with him until he had recovered may not be so bad after all.

#harry hook x male!reader #harry hook x male reader #harry hook x reader #male reader x harry hook #male!reader x harry hook #descendants x male reader #descendants x male!reader #descendants x reader #male reader #male!reader #male reader x #male!reader x #male reader insert #male!reader insert #Creature week 2020

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pjo-whore · 3 years

Text

Percy Jackson At Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Wizards Are What Now?

Look, Percy never wanted to be half-blood.

Being a half-blood – the child of a mortal human and a god – was dangerous. It was scary. Most of the time, on top of having neglectful parents and a dysfunctional and incestuous family that wanted you dead for petty reasons, it got you killed in other painful, nasty ways.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Percy didn’t feel envious of the kids who didn’t have to deal with the mythological world.

Percy Jackson was seventeen years old. Until a month ago, he was fighting a war against a Greek primoradial, the Earth Mother incarnate, Gaea – also known as his great grandmother. Before that, he fought in a war against his grandfather, Kronos, Greek Titan of Time, who wanted to overthrow the Olympian gods and take over the world and the Empire State Building. Somewhere in between he also found time to spend a month in literal Greek hell, Tartarus, who also happened to be his great grandfather, and who also tried to murder him on sight.

Was Percy a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

And right now, he was still trying to clean up the mess from the Second Giant War.

Now that there wasn’t a war looming overhead, the gods’ recent exploits were coming to light, and new demigods were popping up everywhere, everyday. The number of demigods skyrocketed now that they were actively searching and not waiting for them to stumble into Camp on their own.

But that also meant there were new kids to train, more demigods for the gods to claim, and less time to recoup from the recent war.

Less than a month had passed since Gaea’s defeat.

The days were filled with helping each other get back on their feet, rebuilding the camps, and trying to keep the fragile peace in order.

There was still a lot to sort out, and the gods weren’t as hands-on as most would like. There was conflict building up. News spread about how the gods helped the seven demigods of the prophecy fight the giants, because a giant couldn’t be killed by a mortal alone, and this made many jealous and angry. The gods could pop in for a single battle when it was their own ass on the line, but not when a group of their own literal kids needed to rebuild their home that was dedicated to the gods?

Besides Chiron and Dionysus, the only god to physically stay at Camp Half-Blood following the battle against Gaea due to his punishment from Zeus, there were no other adults. The oldest demigods were barely twenty. Despite age, most, if not all, the demigods looked to the prophecy demigods for guidance and leadership.

Annabeth, Jason, Percy, Piper, and Nico.

The brunt of the responsibility fell on the daughter of Athena, and the son of Poseidon. They led their Camp through the Second Titan War, and now they were survivors of another war.

Things weren’t easy for a long time.

The Camp was completely ravaged.

During Gaea’s seize of the Greek demigod Camp, the cabins were burned by the monsters and toppled by Gaea’s massive earthquakes. Not even the Big House – the staple of Camp Half-Blood, the oldest building on the lot – survived the attack.

Camp Jupiter didn’t fare any better, but their buildings had been more structurally sound, thicker and built of material that didn’t burn and crumble. Enough buildings were still standing well enough to inhabit.

Everything had to be rebuilt for Camp Half-Blood.

Nobody could be sent home – to their mortal homes, with mortal parents, and a mortal life, mortal being the slang for “normal” among the mythological world – despite the new lack of residency at Camp Half-Blood. Kids needed to heal. There were nightmares and PTSD. Trauma and concussions. People to be counted, bodies missing, some so mauled they were impossible to identify. Several bodies were unearthed from the ground, sucked in by Gaea’s attack and suffocated beneath the dirt.

Shrouds were made for those who could be identified, the unknown buried in unmarked graves to be remembered. Those who were missing were given honorary shrouds, unknowing if they were in one of the unmarked graves. The Romans were unable to do their traditional funeral rituals, transporting the bodies all the way to Camp Jupiter, and were burned in shrouds alongside the Greeks.

Mortal parents simply couldn’t help.

They couldn’t fathom their children being in a war.

There were fears that demigods would be taken away from Camp Half-Blood by their mortal parents, horrified at what their kids were put through. Chiron especially worried about demigods who would be kept from Camp by parents, forcing them to live alone without any mythological world support, to defend against monsters on their own, without any magic or special weapons.

So, among the remaining able-bodied demigods, Greeks alongside Romans worked together to erect the new Big House. Tents from the Romans’ siege on Camp Half-Blood were gifted to the Greeks to provide residency until the new cabins were built, while the Romans started to march back home.

During all the chaos, Percy didn’t have any time to sit down and process all that happened.

The whole Camp looked up to him as a leader, but Percy didn’t feel very strong or wise.

He only felt bitter.

There were some who walked by and whispered “lucky” and “prophecy.”

Some who stopped talking as soon as he walked into the room.

Those who acted like he wasn’t even human, just some untouchable hero; but they ostracized him.

Percy was aware that he was one of the so-called “lucky” campers; lucky being compared, because at least he walked away with all his limbs intact.

It didn’t feel like he was lucky.

He wasn’t unscathed. He bore many scars, visible and not. His time in Tartarus was an impossible nightmare on bad nights, and a shadow on good days.

Percy was learning that he had triggers.

He was learning Annabeth did, too.

Neither liked using elevators.

Annabeth’s expression went tight when Percy used his powers around her. She turned away, sometimes completely leaving the area.

She got antsy in the dark, a childhood fear resurfaced.

There were other little things; at night when she had nightmares she would toss and turn in bed, sweating through her clothes and sheets, despite the breeze being cold. Sometimes Annabeth would completely avoid Percy, acting snappish, always coming back and apologizing in the end, and they would hold each other like they were hanging over the chasm again.

Annabeth refused to talk about what she saw in her nightmares, and Percy never pushed. He was one of the only people who could understand what she was going through.

Sometimes all they could do was sit and try to drown out the memories of The Pit.

Percy’s triggers were different.

He developed a deep-seated hatred for empousai. The moment he saw one, his body started to shake with adrenaline and nerves, fire flashing before his eyes.

Percy could no longer look at the stars without feeling a deep loss, tears pricking at his eyes.

He prayed to his father, Poseidon, more often, as if trying to re-establish his connection to the sea, to re-establish his connection to the Overworld, as if that could cleanse him of what happened in The Pit. As if he could wash away the touch of The Pit.

Percy’s nightmares were always blurry and violent. He wouldn’t snap awake like others. He didn’t startle or jerk upright. He didn’t make a single noise. He would wake silently, and lay there in bed, eyes open and unseeing, that shattered glass feeling he always dreaded at the bottom of his stomach. After he could never go back to sleep, and he would get up and sit on the tile in his cabin for hours and look in the mirror and wait for the image to change. He would wait for it to reflect what he feared, though it never did.

“Okay, so, how big is the situation? Is it like, ‘Aphrodite lost her hairbrush again’ big? Or is it ‘Gaea has risen again’ big?”

Annabeth frowned. “I don’t know. All Chiron said was that a god needed our help – and I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the sound of that.” She chewed her bottom lip in thought as they headed toward the Big House. They had been asked to attend a private meeting with Chiron, outside of the camp counselor meeting. “He sounded serious, too. Whichever god it is must be an asshole to seek help so soon after the war.”

She wasn’t wrong, Percy thought.

Jason was appointed Pontifex Maximus in Camp Jupiter, and as such he was responsible of advising the praetors, ruling over the Camp Jupiter counsel, and overseeing the work and prayers to the minor gods. His promise to Kymopoleia to bring worship and awareness for all minor gods became his fulltime job, and it was ruled that most gods must go through Jason to request help from either demigod camp.

A god asking for help directly after a full-scale war? Using Chiron as their connection? It was a hit below the belt, and it made Percy frustrated.

A few demigods raised their heads in greeting as Percy and Annabeth passed by the arts and crafts center. Conner and Travis Stoll, who were trying to build bombs with bits and pieces from the forge, took one look at Percy, then at Annabeth, and wiggled their brows suggestively. Percy unsubtly stuck them the bird, and they started to laugh their assess off.

The Big House was smaller now, after being rebuilt.

What could be scavenged from the attic was saved, but most of it was lost. Magical artifacts and ancient texts were burned and crushed. Now the Big House served mostly as the infirmary, aside from the drop-by medicinal tent near the Apollo cabin, where more medical supplies were. The Apollo and Hephaestus cabins had been the first to be rebuilt because they gave needed services.

Aside from the infirmary, the Big House had a commons area for meetings, and housed a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

Checking in the commons area, Chiron was in his wheelchair. Nico was sitting at the beloved ping pong table, which had somehow survived the siege on Camp, and Thalia was sitting backwards on a chair by the new counselor table, which no one ever used.

Percy sat next to Nico and twirled the ping pong paddle between his hands, Annabeth taking her usual seat during counsel meetings.

Chiron looked tense.

“Now, I know that only a month has passed since the end of the Second Giant War, but –”

The air practically sparked with the collective tension that built.

“– a new quest has been issued.”

Annabeth leaned forward in her seat, interested. “Chiron, you can’t have an official quest without a prophecy. And the last time I checked; the Oracle of Delphi wasn’t working right now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing this isn’t a quest from the Greek pantheon, then.”

Percy cocked a brow and shared a look with Annabeth.

“The Roman pantheon doesn’t have an oracle, and their last augur exploded himself, so –”

“It’s a friend of Lady Hecate, the Triple Goddess.”

Dead silence.

“The Triple Goddess?” Percy parroted. “I don’t follow.”

“The Triple Goddess is of the Old Religion, once practiced in Europe hundreds of years ago by the druids and magic users in general. It belonged to Albion, a land of five kingdoms, before it split into the United Kingdom and Ireland.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Nico said.

“All those years ago, in the middle ages, after the golden age of the Greek pantheon, the Old Religion became very popular in Albion. Magic was something that anyone could practice even if they weren’t born with the innate talent, with the proper training. Through the ages, though, the religion declined, and the New Religion rose and became the staple. While the Old Religion relied on the magic of the land, sea, and sky; the New Religion relied on your inner magical core, and so not everyone could do this new magic.”

Chiron shifted in his wheelchair and pulled out a small stack of photos, but when he tossed them onto the ping pong table, the demigods saw that they held moving pictures.

In one photo, it showed a person standing over a boiling cauldron, on the wooden table beside them, old parchment with a quill that moved by itself, writing on the paper. The picture moved slightly, the character stirring the cauldron. Then the animated picture reset and repeated.

In another photo, two persons stood facing each other, holding purposefully shaped wooden sticks, pointing them at each other. Bright lights exploded from the tips of the sticks, and their robes and hair swayed with strong winds.

In the last photo, a person was wearing a uniform of sorts, with a helmet and pads on their knees and elbows. They held an old broomstick between their knees, and metal hinges held on the back close to the bristles, like a hitch for the feet. In the picture, the person grabbed onto the end of the broomstick and shot into the air, like magic. It gave image to the stereotype of witches flying on brooms in the night.

“The Old Religion died out because the land lost its magic. Only select spots held magical creatures and natural magic. Magic was only preserved through the New Religion, and those who practiced the New Religion became witches and wizards. The lot of them went into hiding and created their own society – the wizarding world.”

“In today’s day and age, magic is passed down through genetics. And sometimes, those with magic cores can be born to those with no magic at all. The population of magic users stays stable, and there is balance in the world of magic …” Chiron winced. “Mostly.”

“But these people have lost contact with the Triple Goddess. They no longer worship or prayer to her. They rely solely on their own magic, not what comes naturally from the land, like in the Old Religion. And recently, war has passed for them. The Second Wizarding War ended four months ago. And this has severely depleted their resources and magic. There is a school for the magic users, used as the stronghold during the war, and now the wizarding world’s hero is returning to finish his studies.”

“His moniker is ‘The Boy Who Lived,’ and he’s called Harry Potter. But he was only a child – is only a child. He and his peers are children who have been used to fight a war that they shouldn’t have had to fight.” Chiron looked very grim.

Percy bitterly sank back in his seat.

“We were kids, too.”

Chiron sighed. “This war has thrown the balance of magic out of whack. The natural magic has been depleted for too long, and there are those who are actively tipping the balance to sabotage the magic for their own gain. It’s suspected that the dark forces from the war – Death Eaters – are still operating in the shadows. It is because of this that the Triple Goddess has called upon you as heroes to help restore the wizarding world and save magic.”

“You would only be obligated to attend the school of Hogwarts until you uncovered the source of oppression over magic, so the Death Eaters can be caught and restrained. If you choose to accept, of course.”

Percy eyed him sharply. “You say that as if we have a choice.”

Chiron pursed his lips. “Despite what you think, yes, you do.”

“But this is from a whole other pantheon,” Nico said. “A group of magical people who don’t even believe in the goddess who brought about their magic. Why do we have to fix this?”

More silence.

Chiron looked down on them unapologetically.

Percy shifted uncomfortably, looking over at Annabeth. Chiron seriously expected them to just up and leave Camp for this quest. Barely a month had passed since their own war, and they were getting by as they were. Percy didn’t believe Camp Half-Blood could afford to lose any support or cabin counselors, even for a short period of time.

“So, let me get this straight,” Percy said. “Basically – if I just ignore the little prologue, you gave there – you want us to go to this magical school, on orders of a goddess that’s almost faded, stalk a kid, and watch out for people who like to try to rob the world of magic – magic, which they use themselves.”

Chiron looked pained. “No, I don’t believe they’re purposefully robbing the world of magic.”

“Oh, well that clears everything up.” Percy threw his hands in the air.

“Regardless, you understand what’s being asked. This is a quest, technically coming from Hecate, as a favour for the Triple Goddess. It’s valid as a hero’s quest. It was decided it would be best that you go undercover as transfer students and secretly watch over Harry Potter, the target for most Death Eaters. Your goal is to prevent trouble before it gets serious, though I doubt that will be hard, as trouble always manages to find you –”

“Wait, hold on,” Percy said, still hung-up on the quest. “How are we supposed to fit in at a school for the magically gifted? None of us are wizards.”

“Oh, that is something that can easily be fixed,” Chiron said, dismissing the problem.

“Excuse me?!” Thalia said.

“Hecate considered this quest from the Triple Goddess for a long time before coming to me.”

Percy rolled his eyes. Out of everyone in the room, he had the least faith in the gods. They never gave him anything to have faith in.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the camp director. “And how exactly does Hecate plan on ‘fixing’ the problem? I don’t see any obvious solutions. We’re demigods, not wizards.”

Chiron shifted awkwardly. “She has not shared that with me. I have only gotten the request that you undertake this quest for the Old Religion, and that she will visit to prepare you.”

Percy felt like grinding his teeth. “Oh, so she just expected us to accept the quest. She never considered us refusing? Why can’t the wizards fix their own problem?” Chiron said nothing. “Camp is still in shambles – we don’t even have all the cabins rebuilt yet! We can’t leave, not now. There’s still too much work to do here, and too many new demigods to watch over and protect. And have you even considered that maybe we don’t want to go on this quest? That maybe we want a break? My entire childhood was prophecy after prophecy, quest after quest, serving the gods. We’re under no obligation to do this. You can tell Hecate that she can stick her magic wands up –”

He didn’t get the chance to finish because Annabeth had already taken a ping pong paddle and smashed a ping pong ball in his direction, the mutual action used to keep order in camp counselor meetings.

“BALL!” Annabeth yelled, slamming her paddle across the table.

Percy scowled and took his seat again.

“Now, Percy,” she said sweetly, leaning over the table. “Where did you say Hecate could put those wands?”

“Nowhere,” he muttered.

Annabeth acquiesced and put the paddle down.

“Where is this school anyway?” Nico asked. He frowned. “And Hogwarts? What kind of name is that?”

“It resides in Scotland, its exact location unknown and hidden by powerful magic. Outside of the school, which is an ancient and famous monument for the wizarding world, there are other magical establishments. One place you will be required to visit is Diagon Alley, a wizarding market. That’s where you’ll collect your resources for going undercover at school.”

“Again, you’re saying all this like we’ve agreed to go,” Percy mumbled.

He was ignored. Thalia raised her hand, her features etched with confusion. “Okay, I hate to be the one to say it – but how are we supposed to blend in with wizards and witches? We can’t use magic, and we know nothing about their world.”

Chiron admitted he didn’t know how Hecate would find ways around the problems. “She has informed me that, only once the quest is accepted, will she come and discuss the details. In fact, she should be arriving any moment –”

What happened next could not have been anymore dramatic.

There was a blinding flash of light – the glow filling the entire room – and it forced the demigods to cover their eyes lest they go blind from laying eyes upon a god’s true form.

All eyes landed on the goddess, technically titaness.

Hecate appeared as a tall, thin woman. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a kekryphalos, the shining coil twisting and adorned with intricate gems and metals. Loose strands of hair framed her sickly pale face, which held sharp chartreuse yellow eyes. She wore a dark chiton robe that draped over her thin figure, and it seemed to ripple like a heat hallucination, like ink spilling off to the ground.

At her feet, she was accompanied by a black Labrador retriever and a polecat.

The demigods all stood as one and politely bowed, as was common for all gods. Percy glared up through his bow as he followed reluctantly.

“Rise, my young heroes.” The goddess’ voice was smooth and rich. She sounded monotone. “You have done more than enough to prove your worth to me, and for that, I know that I can trust you. I have called you four here on special request from the Triple Goddess, who has observed your acts of heroics. She believes you can save the wizarding world, her beloved kin, and magics.”

“You will use the ways of the Old Religion to learn magics and go undercover. As demigods, you already have magical cores. They just need to be trained; refined.”

Percy scowled.

“And will the oh-so-gracious Triple Goddess be visiting us herself?”

Annabeth shot him a scathing look.

“Percy!” She hissed.

Hecate eyed Percy again, as if reappraising him. “No,” she said, after a tense silence. “You will be sent to get your wands from one who still practices the Old Religion and can pair you with an appropriate wand. Your cover stories are fabricated and with the wandmaker. The Triple Goddess does not appear without dire need.”

“Her entire world being in trouble seems pretty dire to me,” Percy muttered under his breath.

Annabeth elbowed him harshly.

Hecate narrowed her eyes.

“This,” she said, pulling a laminated piece of paper out of thin air, “is called a portkey. It is an enchanted item; when touched by the intended people, or random persons, it can magically teleport you to a predetermined location.”

She held it out to demigods.

On it, in fancy letters, it read: Littletree Farms, Dorchester, Boston, Massachusetts.

“Touch this, all at once, and you will have accepted the quest.”

Chiron gave them an encouraging nod. The demigods all shared exchanged looks.

“Our responsibilities …” Thalia started, subconsciously reaching up to grab at her lieutenant circlet, from the Hunters of Artemis.

“Will be forgiven for the time while on quest,” Hecate assured. “The Triple Goddess does not ask favours lightly. This has the potential to spill into the real world; to affect our pantheon. The Old Religion is younger than the Greek pantheon, but its reach goes far and wide. The Triple Goddess is powerful; no harm will befall your precious little Camp while you are away.”

Nico hesitated, but was the first to reach for the paper. “If this is really that important … why ask for us specifically? A larger group, organized and planned, could do better.”

“The Triple Goddess has observed you, and believes you are the right heroes to help save magic.”

“But right now? This instant? Can’t we have time?”

“You will come back to your little Camp before you leave for Europe.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, then also reached for it. “Okay.”

Percy looked at her, askance. “Okay? Just like that?”

Annabeth shrugged. “A quest is a quest, and someone needs help. We are in peace right now and have no threats. I don’t see why not.”

“Fine,” Percy said, tone short. He looked over at the laminated paper. “So, this will take us where? What’s in Boston that could be so magical?”

“A wand wood farm,” Hecate said, smiling thinly. “And your quest starts now.”

Percy’s eyes snapped to the paper, where Hecate had pushed it into their collective hands unwillingly. Then the world began to spin, and there was a sharp tug in his gut, yanking him out of time and space.

#pjo #hp #percy jackson #harry potter #pjo x hp #crossover #percy #annabeth #nico #thalia #part 1 #magic percy

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

Phantoms

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Two

A JSE Fanfic

Oh wow, second chapter already? :O Yeah I was really excited to keep writing this. Fantasy is my element; I’ve returned home. After wandering out into the woods for so long, Chase wakes up in an unfamiliar location. Where is he? Who are these strange masked people who have found him? And what happened back in his village? Answers will follow, as we meet new people...including a couple boys that us readers will know :D

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Chase woke up slowly, over the course of what had to be a few minutes. First, he was aware of weight, something pressing down on him. It was warm. And that felt really, really good. Because there was a coldness in his core that he couldn’t quite shake, sending chills across his skin. After the weight, sound came trickling in. There wasn’t much of it. Just some strange scratching sounds, and occasionally footsteps, which echoed. It was only after registering the echo that thoughts started to form. Where...where was he? How’d he get here? Last he remembered, he was...in the forest? It was dark. Was it nighttime? Chase found it hard to recall.

He finally opened his eyes. It was difficult; they felt weighed down. But he did it. And once his eyes were open, he saw...stone. Rough, natural stone, not stone bricks. The light was strong, but flickering. And completely unfamiliar.

Turning his head to the side was an effort, but he managed. He was on a bed, he recognized that much. With a few layers of blankets, including one made of fur on top. Again, completely unfamiliar. As was the rough stone room he found himself in. Some sort of cave...? But then why was there a bed in a cave? No, scratch that. There was a whole row of beds, he could see them extending to the side, along with a couple rickety wooden chairs. And, currently sitting down in one of those chairs, was a woman with a bird face.

“Wh...?” Chase tried to sit up, but the blankets were too heavy, and his body felt weak, so he gave up easily.

The bird-faced woman looked up, and—oh, no. It was a mask. Of course. With a long, curved beak that couldn’t be practical. The woman gasped, and put down the items she was holding—a stack of parchment and a long white feather—a quill—down on the nearest bed. “You’re awake. How do you feel?” She asked, standing up again and hurrying over. Her voice was...it sounded different. In a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

How did he feel? How did he...how...The simple question took Chase a full thirty seconds to answer. “...tired.”

“That’s to be expected,” the woman said, “when you catch the shivering like you did.”

The shivering? Chase groaned as he suddenly remembered the events of last night. Running through the forest, tripping and falling in the water, then continuing to walk until he couldn’t. How stupid. He knew about the shivering, how it could kill a man who stayed out in the cold for too long. Why had he kept going? Actually, why...why had he been out in the forest that late? It felt...important. But those memories still eluded him.

“Don’t worry, you’re going to be alright,” the woman reassured him. “We found you just in time. You, ha...wandered pretty close to camp.” She gave a small smile. Though the mask only covered the upper half of her face, the beak still hid most of the smile. “What’s your name?”

“...Ch’se.” Chase mumbled. His eyelids were really, really heavy. Maybe if he just closed them for a moment...

“Chess? Odd na—no wait, don’t fall asleep!”

Too late. The moment his eyes closed, he drifted off.

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He kept drifting for some time, bobbing on the sea of sleep, occasionally cresting a wave and catching a brief glimpse of that strange cave room again, before falling back asleep. He didn’t regain true awareness until he heard voices. And then, he opened his eyes and turned his head towards them.

This time, he’d rolled over to the other side of the bed. He could see the row of beds continuing, then ending at a large, dangling sheet of canvas. Like for a ship sail? Was he on a boat? No, silly him. A cave wouldn’t be on a boat. Maybe it was just blocking off the entrance. He also saw lanterns this time around, dangling from the distant rock ceiling on chains. There were a lot of them, actually, providing a bright light. Bright enough to see the two people talking to each other nearby. Chase concentrated, and soon the words started to make sense.

“It’s dangerous!” This voice was coming from a man with a fox face. No, wait. Again, it was a mask. The man was also wearing leather armor on his chest and arms. His hands were on his hips and he was staring down at the other figure he was talking to.

“Oh, really? He was already deep into the shivering by the time they found him,” the other voice said. Also a man, if Chase had to guess. He couldn’t quite tell, because this figure had its back to him. All he could see was a red cloak, down to the figure’s waist, with the hood pulled up.

“That could’ve been...a mistake,” the fox-masked man said slowly. “After all, he was wet. If he tripped and fell, and out in the middle of the Dragon’s Greatwoods, there wouldn’t have been time to retreat to shelter. So he continued on his mission.”

“Mission?” The cloaked figure laughed. “Yea, the King sent a man without any jacket or cloak, only armed with a shortbow and five arrows, to find his current greatest threat’s lair. That makes perfect sense.”

The man folded his arms. “He could be a scout. There could be a greater force coming.”

“Look, Lukas, I admire your vigilance,” the figure said. “But there’s just too many holes. If he’s a scout, why doesn’t he have an insignia anywhere? And I know you’re going to say he had to have nothing in case he was caught, or that he could’ve been sent to infiltrate, but in that case? He should have had better gear. A dagger or knife, at least.” The man started to talk again, but the figure kept going. “And also, even if he is part of the King’s forces, shouldn’t we keep him around to ask questions? Instead of just throwing him out into the cold with the shivering like you’re suggesting.”

“Not with the shivering—”

“That doesn’t make your idea much better.” The figure snaps, and surprisingly, despite being at least a head taller, the man in the fox mask shrinks back. “Like I said, I appreciate your vigilance,” the figure continued in a softer tone. “But right now? Does this man look dangerous?” The figure turned around and gestured to Chase, then stopped. “Wait a moment. I think he’s awake.”

The fox-masked man gasped, and backed up. Chase tried to say something, or nod, or do anything, but...the depths of dreamland were already calling him back. He closed his eyes once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third time Chase woke up, it was for good. He opened his eyes, and found he didn’t have the urge to close them again. When he turned his head, it was easier. And his mind was clear, able to take in the strange cave in more detail. Like the fact that it was large enough to put three cottages inside, and still have room to walk in between. Or that the end opposite the canvas was actually a pile of rocks, like there was a cave-in, but with a few stone bricks in the gaps, as if people came along and tried to reinforce the rocks into a solid wall.

He was really, really warm. Not hot, but just warm enough to be noticeable. So he tried to sit up. It was harder than expected, both because of the weakness that lingered in his limbs, and because the layered blankets were surprisingly heavy. But he managed to get upright.

“You’re awake again!”

Chase let out a startled cry, then turned to see the woman with the bird mask from before. She was standing near the rock-brick wall, a wooden chest open at her feet, which she quickly closed. Now, Chase took in more about her. The long, curved beak was still impractical, and Chase couldn’t recognize the type of bird the mask was modeled after. She wore a white apron over a tunic and a pair of trousers. Her black hair was pulled back in tight braids, and she had darker skin than anyone Chase had ever known. She hurried over. “Lay down, lay down. And keep the blankets on.”

“It’s a little hot, actually,” Chase mumbled an explanation.

The woman hummed, then leaned over and pressed her hand against Chase’s forehead. The touch was cool. “Well...I suppose your temperature is closer to normal,” she said, leaning back. “But don’t get up yet. How do you feel, Chess?”

“Um...well, my name is Chase, actually,” he corrected. “But anyway, I feel...still a little tired, but I’m not...not sleepy. Just kind of...weak, I guess.”

“Well. That’s good,” the woman said cheerfully. “One moment, do you mind holding this?” She reached into a pocket in her apron and took out a smooth, round stone the size of a fist.

“...sure?” Chase took the stone. For a moment, his hand dropped with the weight, but he kept it aloft.

The woman hummed again, watching his arm as his muscles trembled slightly. “I suppose that’s not enough to worry.” She took the stone back.

“Thank you, I guess,” Chase said. He glanced once more around the large cave—or, actually, a cavern. “Now, uh...if you don’t mind. Where am I? And who are you? And how did I get here?”

“You’re...well, that’s hard to say,” the woman said. It was then that Chase realized why her voice sounded different: she had an accent, one he couldn’t identify. “I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet, but you are safe. You are in a...place...full of good people, and you are currently in our infirmary.”

“In a cave?” Chase blurted out.

The woman laughed. “Oh believe me, they argued about where to put it for so long. They still do, actually. But we keep it clean. As for how you got here, you wandered right up to the edge of our...place. There was a whole group out nearby, talking to each other and spending time, and they saw you in the distance. So they picked you up and took you here. And for your question in the middle, you can call me Ibis.”

“Ibis,” Chase repeated. “Is that a type of bird?”

“Yes, it is!” Ibis beamed, and adjusted her white bird mask. “They live near rivers, in warm climates.”

“Oh. Interesting. I...hadn’t seen them before,” Chase said slowly.

“You are not the only one,” Ibis assured him. “It is cold in these mountains. But I have to ask you something. I hope you don’t mind. It is...What were you doing so far out in the woods, so late at night?”

“I, uh...I go out into the forest to hunt,” Chase said. “Every day, usually, except in the winter, unless it’s really necessary.”

“Really? Interesting,” Ibis said. She brushed some dirt off her apron. “Well, Chase, you are recovering from the shivering nicely. But I hope you don’t mind if I have someone else take a look at you. Not today, tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Oh. Um...alright,” Chase said, still a bit confused. “And...when are you going to tell me where I am? And who this group is? And why all of you are wearing masks?”

“Chase, I would really like to answer your questions, but I don’t know what we’ve decided,” Ibis said honestly.

“So keeping it a secret is important, huh?”

“I suppose you could say so. Now if you don’t mind.” Ibis walked around the bed. “I am going to get you some water. You must be very thirsty.”

He hadn’t actually noticed it, given the more pressing concerns of his situation, but the minute she mentioned it, Chase realized how dry his mouth was. “I am. Thank you.”

“I will be right back,” Ibis assured him, then headed towards the canvas. She pushed through a flap in the middle, not unlike that of a tent, and disappeared.

Chase stared after her for a few moments, then slumped back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, wondering. Who were these people? What did they want? And what was going to happen to him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to her word, Ibis reappeared the next day with someone else in tow. Chase heard the sound of the canvas flap open from the bed where he was laying, and rolled over to see her and another man walking in. They took a slight detour to the side, where they both put on a white apron, then headed over. “Hello again, Chase,” Ibis said cheerfully. “This is Owl.”

The other man nodded. “Hello.” As the name would have indicated, his white mask was shaped like an owl, though...Chase noticed that his mask was more...decorated. Ibis’s mask had a symbol in the center of the forehead drawn in black, a vertical line with two others twisting around it. The man’s owl mask had that, too, but it also had colorful details along the feathers, and a pattern of pale blue diamonds along the cheeks. Underneath the apron, the man wore a blue scarf and a white tunic with buckles in the front. He also had a belt with several pouches hanging off it. Brown hair framed the owl mask, cut short, and blue eyes looked at Chase through the wide eyeholes.

“Hello,” Chase said politely. “How’re you doing?”

“Oh, ah, I am well.” Owl sounded a bit surprised by the question, which confused Chase. People always said that when greeting each other. “But more importantly, how are you?” He continued, sitting down in a chair next to the bed.

“I’m tired.” Yes, tired of saying that.

“The fatigue is expected. How are your thoughts? Is your head clear, or is it more foggy?” Wait a moment...Owl also had an accent. But it was different from Ibis’s. While hers was smooth, mellowing out the vowels, his was sharp, especially on the S’s and TH’s. And it...sounded strangely familiar...which really stood out in contrast to all the strange new things Chase had been going through.

“No, it’s pretty clear,” Chase said slowly, silently wracking his memories. Where had he heard that accent? “And before you ask, I’m not cold, but I’m also not that warm, either. At least, not on my own. The blankets, though, they are making me warm.”

“That is what they were made for, yes,” Owl nodded. “Ibis says your temperature is not too bad, so if you would like, we can take away some of them.”

“That would be good, thank you. And, um...slightly related question. Where are my clothes?” Chase gestured to the shirt he was wearing. It wasn’t his; this one was thick and woven. It hadn’t seemed important yesterday, but might as well ask now. “And all the rest of my things, too?”

“Ah, sorry about that. They were all wet, so we had to change you out of them. They would just make you colder. We have your things nearby, you can go get them later,” Owl explained. “Once we are sure you are not with the shivering anymore.”

That way of talking was just so familiar, it was distracting. Where would he have heard it before? Chase fell silent for a moment as he thought about it. Maybe in another similar environment? When he was sick? Well, he didn’t really get sick that often, but maybe when someone else was sick...like...

Owl paused, waiting for Chase to say something else. “...are you okay?”

The memory hit Chase in a flash, making him gasp out loud. “Henrik?!”

Owl looked shocked for a moment, but then he glanced at Ibis, who had an identical expression under her mask, and quickly turned the shock into confusion. “I am sorry?”

“That’s you, isn’t it? Henrik...I don’t remember your surname, but you had one. I thought that was strange. You’re a traveling doctor, you were in town last summer!”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Owl said slowly. “You might be mistaking me for someone else—”

“No no no, I couldn’t be mistaking you,” Chase insisted. “It’s embarrassing that I didn’t remember you until now, really. Maybe I am still foggy from the shivering. My son, Quentin, he caught a fever, we—we were really worried about him making it. But Michael told me there was a traveling doctor staying at his house—maybe you remember him, he’s a woodcutter? But I ran over and I explained everything to you, and you came back with me straight away to see to Quentin. You gave him some medicine, and...and you probably saved his life.” Chase went quiet. “I’d never forget that.”

Owl looked like he wanted to deny it at first, but the longer Chase talked, the more recognition sparked in his eyes. “Actually, you look...In a mountain village last summer? A little boy with a fever...Did he have dark curly hair? And a quiet sister?”

“Yes! That’s Quentin! And my daughter, Amabel, too.” Chase nodded fast enough to make his head dizzy. “That was you, right?”

A slight pause. “Well I suppose if you already guessed, there is no point in saying no.” The man reached up and took off his owl mask, revealing his full face for the first time. And now, there was no mistaking it.

“It is you!” Chase smiled wide. “Oh, elders. I never thanked you enough. We would have—Quentin’s only eight, you know, but he’s had trouble all his life—and that you agreed on such short notice—”

“You think I would say no to something so urgent?” Henrik scoffed, though it didn’t come across as harsh, more like a habit. His voice was actually quite soft as he continued, “And for a child, as well.”

“A lot of traveling doctors charge a lot—”

“They are selfish. Who would charge for a child?” Henrik shook his head. “But you recognized me. I am surprised. I have not done any traveling in nearly a year.”

“It was the accent,” Chase explained. “I think I remember you explaining why you have it? You’re from Al...Altir...Altherd...”

“Alterde,” Henrik finished. “It is across the sea, to the east of here.”

“Right.” Chase glanced over at Ibis, who was standing to the side while they talked, bouncing on her feet and waiting for them to finish. “Are...you two aren’t from the same place, are you?”

“Oh, no no, not at all,” Ibis said. “Though, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to get specific.”

“Oh. That has to do with the masks and the secrecy, doesn’t it? Well, that’s okay.”

Ibis smiled, then walked away a bit. “Henrik, if you do not mind, I am going to continue inventory.”

“No, no, go ahead,” Henrik said, nodding. Ibis nodded back, then walked towards the back of the cavern and bent over to open up a chest. She took out some parchment and a quill with ink, then proceeded to open another chest. “Ah, anyway.” Henrik turned back to Chase. “Where was your village? Is it nearby?”

“On the edge of the forest,” Chase confirmed. “They call it Hilltown.”

“Right, because of the slopes and steeps,” Henrik said. “And how is your son now? He has not had any more scares since I tended him?”

“No, nothing major. Though the other day, he fell into the trough for Rainer’s sheep.” Chase laughed. “He was fine, but we should keep an eye—” He suddenly stopped.

No. No, they couldn’t do that. Because the day after that incident, Chase had gone hunting and returned to find the village burning. His family—Stacia, Amabel, Quentin—they’d all disappeared. And now, as the memories came flooding back, he remembered why he’d gone into the forest so late at night, why he’d kept walking despite being so cold and tired. Because his family was missing. Because he’d run in to see his cottage alight, the orange flame searing his eyes, the scent of woodsmoke and ash all around, smoke filling his throat...then run into the forest, hoping maybe, maybe he would see them. Frantically searching, not caring about what happened, just as long as they were safe, please let them be safe. Please let them be safe, somehow, somewhere—

“Chase?” Henrik said slowly, eyes filled with concern. “Is everything okay?”

And with that simple question, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears filled his eyes and overflowed. Chase bent over and started sobbing, burying his face in his hands as his body shook. Henrik’s concern grew into worry, and he leaned in closer, putting a hand on Chase’s back. “What is wrong?” he asked quietly. “Is there—could I help?”

“I don’t—know what happened—to them,” Chase said in between gasps for air. “Town was—I went out hunting a-and town was—it was on fire—when I came back. A-a-and the cottage was on fire, a-and they were—my wife, my kids, they—I-I couldn’t find them. I thought I’d look for them, i-in the forest, but—but I couldn’t find them, and I—I—kept shouting, but I—I—”

“Oh.” Henrik’s expression slowly shifted to horrified realization. “Oh, no. Chase, I am so sorry.”

“They—they can’t be...gone,” Chase continued, a desperate edge to his voice. “I-I-I couldn’t see their—they could’ve gotten out and headed downhill, or to another village. But I do-don’t know. That—that chance that they could be—it’s j-j-just—” He gave up on forming words and just cried.

Henrik didn’t say anything. He sat with him, a comforting presence, letting Chase sob his eyes out. Which was appreciated. Chase didn’t want any words, any promises of false hope. He wanted to let the tears consume him. How could he have forgotten that was what happened to his family? That they were the reason he was even here in the first place? How could something like that have slipped his mind?

It was some time before Chase’s crying died down. Slowly, the wracking sobs petered out into quiet whimpers. Henrik reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a square of cloth, which he handed to Chase. “Thank you,” Chase mumbled as he took it, and wiped his eyes.

“It is no problem,” Henrik said. “Chase, that is...I am sorry.” He paused. Chase just nodded. So he continued. “How...how was the village on fire? If I remember, most of it was stone, except for the houses on the sloping parts.”

“It was...the oddest thing,” Chase said, recalling the sight. “The stone buildings were on fire, too.”

Henrik’s eyes seemed to sharpen. “Really?”

“Yes. I-I don’t know how, but I know what I saw.”

“No, no, I believe you. Ah...” Henrik cleared his throat. “You do not have to answer if you are uncomfortable, but...was anyone there who...was not supposed to be?”

“Oh. Oh. Yea, there were these strangers on horses,” Chase remembered. “Or at least, some of them were on horses. They were all dressed the same, or similarly. Dark tunics.”

“Did they have any sort of—of marking, or insignia?”

“I was too far away to see...no, wait.” Chase closed his eyes to remember. “Yes, some of them had the crest on the back of their tunics.”

“Crest?”

“The kingdom’s crest, Glasúil’s crest. The green field on the striped shield. Heh. That’s how my mom taught me to remember it in lessons.” Chase smiled for a moment, but it soon faded. “You know, I was...obviously more concerned at the time, but...why were strangers wearing the crest even there? They had to be working directly for the royal family. Maybe they were there to help?”

Henrik didn’t answer, though when Chase looked over at him, his face was dark and stony. “Chase. Ah, I think we could send someone to...look at the village...ruins. To see what happened. If you’d like, we could tell you...if we find...”

“That would be good,” Chase said softly. “Henrik, is...is something wrong?”

After a moment, Henrik put his owl mask back on. “Yes, something is wrong. And I will explain to you what it is, after you are completely better from the shivering. That should only take a few more days. Is that okay?”

“Yea, I guess that’s alright,” Chase agreed. Maybe it was just the fogginess from the shivering, but he felt really overwhelmed and more than a little confused. But he got the feeling he wouldn’t be getting any answers right away, so he had to wait. That was okay. He was patient, even if the distress for his family was eating a hole in his chest.

“Thank you.” Henrik stood up. “I can come see you later, if you wish, but I have to take care of something right now. Feel free to ask Ibis for anything.”

“Alright.” Ibis looked really busy with the chests at the back of the cavern, totally absorbed in her writing on her parchment. Chase doubted she’d heard any of their conversation. But okay. He’d ask her if he had to.

Henrik gave him a small smile. “I will be back.”

“Goodbye.” Chase waved as Henrik turned and left through the canvas flap at the front of the cavern, disappearing from sight. Then he sighed, and looked up at the rocky ceiling. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was sure he’d stumbled into something far bigger than he’d ever expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took three more days for Chase to fully get over the effects of the shivering. During that time, Henrik and Ibis were frequent visitors, talking and helping him regain his strength. Occasionally, he’d see some other person in a mask enter the infirmary cavern. Usually someone wearing a bird-themed mask, but he saw other animals as well—he recognized a hedgehog, a badger, a couple mice, and a snake. And he noticed that the ones in bird masks would always put on an apron before entering. Given how Henrik and Ibis had bird masks and would do the same, he assumed that the birds were the doctors for...whoever these masked people were.

None of the masked people talked to him, so he didn’t talk to them. But more than once, he caught someone staring at him. No doubt he was an unusual sight. And probably some sort of security risk. He could still remember that conversation he’d overheard between the man in the fox mask and the figure in the red cloak. Talking about how he shouldn’t be there, how he could be...some sort of enemy, he guessed. So he didn’t blame them, though it did make him a bit uncomfortable at times.

Eventually, the fatigue disappeared, and Chase could walk around and pick up and hold things without his muscles trembling. Henrik had brought him his set of clothes back, and Chase had quickly changed into the familiar garb, which wasn’t nearly as warm as the clothes they’d given him. Though he couldn’t help but notice his bow and arrows were missing. More security risk, probably.

On the third day, at a time when Ibis had left the cavern and Chase was on his own, idly sitting on his bed, Henrik walked through the canvas flap and right up to him. “Chase?” He said.

“Hello, Henrik,” Chase said. “How’re you doing?”

“I am well, thank you. And you?”

“Doing fine.” Chase stood up and stretched. “Except I’m completely bored.”

Henrik laughed a bit. “Well, it is not the most exciting thing to be stuck in here.”

Chase smiled. Honestly, he preferred being bored to being constantly worried about his family.

Henrik’s expression became serious. As if reading Chase’s thoughts, he said, “Well...do you remember what I said a few days ago? That we would go to check Hilltown and see if...there was anything left?”

Silently, Chase nodded.

“I have some good news, and some bad news, Chase. And the good news is that we could not find any signs of your family being dead.”

The wave of immense relief Chase felt was enough to make him physically stagger. “Really?” he whispered.

“Really,” Henrik confirmed.

“Oh, thank the elders.” Chase sighed. But then a wave of nervousness shot through his body. “What’s the bad news, then?”

Henrik sighed, reaching up and taking off his mask so he could rub his eyes. “Hilltown is...gone. There are the remains of buildings, but...no people in sight. Or at least, none alive.” He paused. “The bodies the group found, they...looked them over. And none of them are children, women, or elderly. All of them were adult men. Not killed by fire, but by...wounds that would be inflicted by people. Arrows, and blades.” And he paused again. “That is not all, though. The reason the group took so long to return was because they checked out the nearby mountain villages as well. And...things are exactly the same in the three they found. Burned, with bodies of men, but no one else.”

What color there was in Chase’s face completely drained, leaving him white as a sheet. “The...same thing happened in three other villages?” That was...it was too terrible for him to even put into words. He’d been to one nearby village a couple times before, called Pinetown, but the other two...though he might have known of them, their names escaped his mind. But they all had to be roughly the same size as Hilltown, with about three hundred to four hundred people living there. Altogether that was...as many as sixteen hundred people dead or missing.

“At least. They only checked nearby,” Henrik said tentatively. “We are going to go out farther, see if there are more...tragedies like this.”

“...oh.” Chase wasn’t sure what to say at first. But after a moment, he landed on a question. “Wh-who would do this? And why?”

“We are not so sure about the why. As for who...” Henrik hesitated. “This may be difficult to hear, but do you remember how you saw strangers wearing the Glasúil crest that night? They had to be working for the King.”

“I’ve figured that out by now, yes.” It was really the only logical explanation.

Henrik was clearly waiting for Chase to say more, but when he stayed quiet, he asked, “And...did you wonder what they were doing up in the mountains? Very far away from Suilthair, where they would most likely be?”

“I...yes, but...maybe they were some sort of group on patrol,” Chase suggested. “That happens sometimes. And they saw the fire, and came to help. Why are you shaking your head?”

“Chase,” Henrik sighed. “You do not want to hear this, I understand. But those soldiers had to be the ones to start the fire.”

“That’s absurd,” Chase said weakly. Really, it made sense. Because even though it was true that soldiers sometimes patrolled the kingdom, it was rare that they would go up into the mountains. The terrain was difficult if you weren’t familiar with it. In all his life, he’d only heard of nearby patrols only a few times, and it was too much of a coincidence that they’d be there when the fire happened. But...

“The bodies they found had injuries from blades and arrows,” Henrik reminded him. “The fire was not an accident, it was a cover for soldiers shooting down innocents. They probably took away all the townspeople they didn’t kill, so that they could not tell anyone what happened. And do you remember what you said, about how even the stone buildings were burning? That could only be caused by wizardry, and the King has many wizards working for him.”

“Whoa, wait, how do you know it was a wizard?” Chase asked. “There are other magic users. And how do you know that, even if a wizard did cause the fire, that they were working for the King?”

“You do not know that much about the branches of magic, do you?” Henrik asked, raising an eyebrow. “Only wizards and sorcerers would be able to conjure fire, and even then, only a very powerful sorcerer would be able to burn stone. And as for why the wizard was most likely allied with the King...well, that is a longer conversation, but suffice to say, they have good reason to be.”

“I can’t believe the Alterden knows more about politics in this kingdom than I do,” Chase muttered.

Henrik laughed. “Well, the Dragon’s Teeth Mountains are very far away, not many things affect you up here. Or at least...they didn’t used to.” His expression became serious once more. “Chase...the King is not a good man. I have lived here for fifteen years, I have seen things change. He was good once, but...he is different. He desires power, and control, and he will go to any lengths to have it. The villages burning it is the sort of thing he would do, even if we do not know why just yet.”

“I...I need a moment.” Chase sat down hard on the edge of the bed. His whole world had flipped upside down. There was no longer ground beneath his feet, and he was spinning through empty space. But, still, it made sense. The people praised the King and his actions when he took the crown after the previous royal couple, but over time, that praise had dried up. He’d assumed that people were just getting used to it, but hearing no news from the flatlands below regarding their leader? That was just...odd. Maybe deliberately odd. And of course, there was the evidence of his own eyes. Strangers working directly under the King, showing up the same day Hilltown burned...it just made sense.

“This is a lot, I understand.” Henrik sat down next to him, setting his owl mask in his lap. “But...our group, the ones you have stumbled into, we—”

“You’re some sort of rebels, aren’t you?” Chase interrupted. “The other day—before everything went down—my wife, Stacia, heard rumors that there were masked people in the forest, and that they might be plotting against the King. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Henrik paused. Then hit his forehead with an open palm. “Well I suppose I should have some words with people about being seen! Rumors up here already, damn it all. We are trying to be subtle and invisible. Like spirits.”

“So I’m right,” Chase summarized, a small grin on his face.

“Yes, you are right,” Henrik sighed. “We are trying to fix everything. Protect people. Stop things like the villages burning.”

“Noble cause,” Chase said.

“Thank you. And...it is a cause you could help with.”

Chase blinked, unsure if he’d heard him right. “Sorry?”

“We could always use the numbers,” Henrik continued. “And as a hunter, you already have some skills. Of course, you do not have to. But...we cannot risk anyone hearing we are up here. Even though there are apparently rumors.” He scoffed for a moment. “So, I am giving you two offers, Chase. You can help us, or I will give you a tonic that will make you forget what you saw up here, and we will drop you off somewhere where you could move on with life.”

“A tonic? There’s something that could do that?” Chase asked, leaning away a bit.

“Oh yes, you would be surprised.”

“And...those are my only choices?”

“Unfortunately,” Henrik said apologetically. “I trust you, but many of our people are more paranoid. And we cannot have anyone knowing who we are.” He paused, then stood up. “I can give you some time to decide—”

“No, I’ve already decided.” Chase stood up as well, grabbing Henrik’s arm. “You said that these soldiers who burned down town...they probably took everyone away that they didn’t kill, right? That...that would include my family.” His voice cracked on the last word. “I—I need to find them. A-and it sounds like you could help me with that.” He tried for a weak smile. “Besides, if you made me forget everything that happened up here, I’d go looking for Stacia and the kids on my own. We might even run into each other again. So, really, it wouldn’t do much.”

Henrik smiled, relieved. “I am glad to hear that, Chase.” He put a hand on Chase’s shoulder. “And I give you my word that we will find your family. We will help you get them back.”

Chase nodded, stiffening his resolve. If he’d been there that night, he might have been able to get Stacia, Amabel, and Quentin to safety. But he hadn’t. So, now he’ll have to make up for that. He will find them. Whatever it took.

“Oh elders, finally!”

Chase gasped, and turned to the source of the strange voice. The tent flap had flown open, and in walked...a man in a waist-length red cloak, with the hood pulled up. The same man that Chase had overheard talking with the other man in the fox mask.

Henrik jumped, and spun around as well. “Schwestern, do not scare me like that, Jackie!” The moment the name escaped his voice, he clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

“Sorry, Hen. And don’t worry about the name, if he’s going to join, he’d find out eventually,” The other man—Jackie—waved off the concern. He had a mask as well, though this one was in the shape of a wolf. There was a different black symbol in the center of its forehead, a circle with two dots inside. But...his mask was also more colorfully decorated, including some red triangular markings along the edge. So far, his mask and Henrik’s were the only ones with color like that. Besides the mask, Jackie wore a blue tunic pulled over a chainmail shirt. The end of a dark ponytail stuck out from under the hood, and bright blue eyes looked at Chase with excitement. “It’s so good to have you on board!”

“On...board? On board what?” Chase asked, confused.

“It’s just a figure of speech, I mean that you’re part of the group now! Welcome to the Phantoms!” Jackie hurried over and stuck out his hand, in a blue glove. Chase took it, and Jackie shook his hand vigorously. “It’s been so hard to recruit people up in the mountains, every other location of ours is bringing in more people than ever, because the King keeps being a prick, he’s increasing his prickishness. But up here there aren’t even that many people to begin with, and everyone’s tight together in the villages, and nobody knows what’s going on down below. So you’re the first! It’s nice to meet you!”

“I—uh—Phantoms?” Chase latched on to the easiest part of that rambling to take in.

“Yea, that’s us, the Masked Phantoms,” Jackie confirmed. “Because we strike invisibly, and before anyone knows we’re there. And the mask part is obvious. You’re gonna get one, too! Well, eventually. Right now we just have a few backups, we’re waiting to get more plaster to make more. But when we get that, you can choose the animal and everything.”

“Jackie, please, you are overwhelming him.” Henrik stepped in and pushed Jackie back a bit. “Give him space, a lot has happened.”

“Sorry, I just get excited sometimes.”

“I know you do, it is okay.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Chase added. “I was, uh...surprised. Were you listening to our whole conversation?”

“No, just the part near the end where Hen was explaining your options,” Jackie said, tucking a lock of hair behind one of the ears of his wolf mask. “Anyway, if you’re ready, we could finally show you around where you’ve been staying all this time. I mean, the infirmary’s nice and everything, but it’s still a cave. We need more open air in here.”

“No, we do not,” Henrik said firmly. “Open air can bring wind, which can bring insects and other small, unclean things. Not to mention it could blow everything around and mess things up. Nemet works so hard on keeping everything organized.”

Jackie rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, you’re the doctor. Anyway, Chase, we can show you around now if you want.”

“Uh...you know what? Yea, I’d like that.” Chase nodded. “I’ve been here for, what, seven days?”

“Six,” Henrik corrected.

“A long time. I’m tired of it. So, yes, you can show me around now.”

Jackie beamed. “Alright! Come on, follow me. You’re going to love this place.” And he turned and headed towards the canvas at the front of the cave.

Henrik looked at Chase. “It will be a bit shocking,” he said.

“Okay,” Chase said, frowning uncertainly. What could be so shocking? Well, he was about to find out. He hurried after Jackie, with Henrik following him in turn, who was waiting for him, holding the flap partly open.

“Alright.” Jackie smiled at him, then disappeared through the flap, holding it open on the other side.

Chase walked through. At first, he blinked in the sunlight, partially hidden through a cloud but nonetheless bright after being stuck in the infirmary cave for so long. Then, when the afterglow faded, he looked around. The cave entrance was on the side of a steep slope of rock, almost vertical. Before them was a large, almost empty space, the ground cleared of any brush and packed down into dirt. There weren’t any trees nearby, but there was a line of large white...rocks? Curved rocks. They rose in size, and continued into the distance, the line curving gently. The gaps in the rocks were large enough for at least three people to walk through side-to-side, so that’s exactly what the three of them did.

Beyond the line of rocks was more space clear of brush. Though this area was filled with tents. And with people. Some of them wearing masks, many of them bare-faced but with a mask somewhere on their person. They bustled about, carrying weapons, equipment, or stacks of parchment. Or they stood and sat around, talking with each other. The air was cool, so they were all wearing cloaks or jackets, though Chase noticed that he was the only one wearing a hat. The line of rocks continued to curve around the tents, getting larger and larger to one side. Wait a second. What was that in the distance? Chase raised his hand to shade his eyes from the sun, eyes following the curve of the rocks.

No, they weren’t rocks.

They were bones.

Gigantic bones.

That thing he’d seen, a bit off to the side in the distance? That was a ribcage. He turned around, noticing the way the bones they’d walked between were similar, but got smaller and smaller. A tail? Yes, a tail. Probably of a reptile, judging by the shape. The skeleton curved around this massive area of space, big enough to fit half of Hilltown inside. And the area it circled was filled with tents and people.

“What the...?” Chase whispered.

“I told you,” Henrik said. “And you cannot even see the skull from here. Or the legs. Or the wings.”

“I’m sor—wings?!” Chase repeated. What animal was this big?! And had wings?! And was reptilian?! Oh...wait. He knew exactly one animal that fit all those qualifications. His eyes widened, and he looked back at the skeleton, mouth open as he gaped.

Jackie clapped his hands. “Welcome to Wyvernlair, Chase. Come on. There’s so much more to see.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos au #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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alisarb · 4 years

Text

the nature of frenchie and kimiko’s relationship

in every frenchie-kimiko video about their relationship there’s always someone commenting how much they ship it and there’s always someone else pointing out that their relationship in the comics is like father and daughter

so, being the obsessive shipper that I am and weirdly overthinking everything about a tv show because i can’t enjoy things like normal people, i decided to write this post to defend why I think their relationship in the show (and even a bit in the comics) is anything BUT paternal, and why their relationship in tv vs. comics is so different

(please bear in mind this is my opinion and in no way i wanna force ships onto anyone, you’re free to interpret stories and ship characters however you want!!)

Okay, the first thing we learn about frenchie in the show is that he is a man of many skills: in his own words, a gunrunner by trade, but with a very particular niche. we also learn he used to be a hitman, probably, and then he talks about his victims like scars he has to carry forever. he’s the first character apart from hughie that expresses some kind of remorse in the show about killing someone up until that point in the show (and i know it’s only the second episode, but by then we’d already seen quite enough violence)

he’s a layered character from the beginning, going from what looks like a man who likes his pills way too much and who seems dangerous to someone who actually has more to offer. still, he has other personality traits that differentiate him from the rest: frenchie describes himself as a womanizer in a conversation with m.m, who he mocks for being in a loving relationship with his wife. he “goes to sleep every night next to someone different.” we’ve met cherie by then but we can assume they are not really in a relationship by this statement, more like a casual lovers situation

and then, like a joke from fate, he meets kimiko. and from the very beginning they form a connection like no other. one can argue that their earlier interactions are kinda sweet and tender and not romantic at all, but from what i see, they share the kind of intimacy that most tv couples wish they could convey without even touching. their chemistry is undeniable

on top of that, as their relationship progresses, kimiko begins to return the affection. she goes from this killing machine that can’t stand to be touched to initiate contact with (and only) frenchie, because he’s her source of comfort and reassuring. at mesmer’s, kimiko looks at him because he’s the only person that she can trust and the first one to show her kindness in who knows how long

the rest of the group is understandably wary of kimiko, as she has proved to brutal and ruthless. frenchie is the only one who understands her, and that’s why he frees her that first time: to give her a choice

in exchange, when they are at mesmer’s,he asks her to show them what he sees, and she complies. because she doesn’t trust the rest yet, but she trusts frenchie. and even with that first vision he doesn’t doubt for a second that she can’t be just a terrorist. so kimiko shares with them and relives her trauma: the murder of her parents, being removed from her home and sent to a camp with her brother, being forced to become a soldier, being injected with compound v and becoming a supe with a talent for mass murder just to be locked in a cage like an animal...

the look they share after that revelation is anything but platonic and/or paternal:

LOOK AT MM AND BUTCHER. BUTCHER IS LIKE WTF AND M.M SHRUGGED LIKE “NOTHING TO BE DONE HE’S IN LOVE YOUR HONOR”

sorry about the excitement this scene makes me wanna squeal with delight

shortly after, kimiko is watching shark week again and frenchie comes up to her to talk about vought and how they’re hurting people like they hurt her, how she could help them stop it. at first kimiko keeps staring at the TV and looks defensive, but the moment he says: “it’s your choice, if you wanna go back and look for your brother i’ll take you to the airport” she looks at him, surprised.

because he keeps giving her a choice, which is the core of their relatiionship

and, as another user pointed out in a post a while ago, if you watched the show with the captions on (as i did bc english is not my native language) as she holds his hand, you can hear and read that shark week talks about mating and how if a female shark returns the male’s feelings will make some sort of move. one could think that this was accidental but c’mon, this show doesn’t leave anything a coincidence

it’s clear from the beginning that frenchie is completely smitten with her. in fact, we see small glimpses of him literally OBSESSING over her from the beginning: he meets with cherie to get the gas to sedate kimiko and we learn he hasn’t been with her in a while. i’m sure he was plenty busy with the whole vought + kimiko situation, but at that point they were all living separately and they returned to their places even if it was less frequently than usual (and cherie seemed to spend a lot of time in his place, if not even living there)

he cooks for her when she’s chained and then later on he teaches her HOW TO BAKE my heart

I could keep listing every moment when Frenchie looks at Kimiko (because his eyes inevitably follow her at any scene) or how the rest of The Boys is so aware of what they are (”you’re dating a terrorist”/”your crazy ass girlfriend”), and (SPOILERS SEASON 2 STOP READING FOR A SECOND) in the s2 we see how Frenchie is dog tired, probably angry and frustrated, and his face automatically changes when Kimiko goes to show him the origami piece. He smiles sweetly because she makes him happy, and amidst all the chaos they are going through one of his main worries is still Kimiko and how to understand and communicate with her.

END OF SPOILRS SEASON 2

One of the last moments is in the finale, when Kimiko is finally pulling herself back together after years of abuse and mistreatment by brushing her hair, wearing pretty clothes or painting her nails. Simple acts that make her feel like she’s a person. When she comes out of the bathroom, he looks at her with pure AWE. He even says “look at you, mon coeur”, because it’s like she’s the prettiest thing he’s seen. When the gas comes into the room he pushes her into the bathroom first thing.

M.M’s face at the end when they’re surrounded and he sees Frenchie hitting his head against the wall because even though he’s been shot he only wants to go get Kimiko, I think it says everything. His face when he talks about Kimiko and how she made him a better person. The way he pulled the hair out of her face.

I really love how everything is coming together this new season, so now I’d like to address the main issue of this post: the nature of their relationship and how it’s nothing like the comics.

There’s a very basic reason to why I believe their relationship is romantic, and not only by the actors’ interactions in Instagram, or the way Amazon promotes their relationship, but because the comics are so different from the tv show.

Every character’s background story is changed, and so are their motivations, personalities and, as far as we’ve seen, their storylines. In the show they’ve made it pretty clear that Kimiko and Frenchie share a connection that resembles that of a soulmate.

And even in the comics, (spoiler) when they’re about to die, Frenchie turns around and tells her that he’s loved her since the beginning. I don’t think that’s very father-like.

In conclusion, it’s likely that they’ll make us wait for a long time before we get more romantic interaction (especially since Kimiko is growing as a character and that might mean she might need to grow on her own, which I think is great), but it’s been clear since the beginning that they are meant to be. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

#kimiko #frenchie x kimiko #frenchie #kimiko x frenchie #the boys #prime video #the boys prime video #they are so precious and i love them so much #they deserve everything #never thought i'd be so in deep with a straight couple again #but oh boy here we are

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littlefreya · 4 years

Text

Lines in the Sand

Summary: She is one of the best snipers serving in Iraq, but she is also suffering from an attitude problem and ironically has a hard time following orders. After an incident in her former base, she is sent to join the Special Forces unit led by Captain Syverson, who requires a talented sniper.

Unlucky for her, Captain Syverson is a hard man who likes things by the book and according to order. He ain't got the patience for troublemakers.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Jessica Gallagher)

Word count: 1,784

Warnings: Smut in future parts, some foul language and sexual content.

A/N: Please enjoy, reblog, like. The world needs more Syverson, and I think he is one of Henry's finest roles.

Bad girl.

That’s what they say she is; trouble, attitude problems.

She heard all of it at psych evaluation.

'Prodigy' is another word they use for her.

And sometimes even 'asset'.

She likes this one the most. It strips her of all human notions.

That’s the only reason to keep her around, and it’s not like she has any desire to go home anyway. Home is tough. Here in the desert, surrounded by death and horny virgins - that’s the easy part.

“Killing is easy,” she said to the military psychologist who had her profiled from head to toe before being transferred to camp Warhorse.

“Gallagher?” a young soldier calls toward her, huffing and covered with a sheen layer of sweat as he runs toward her. She glares at him bemused, holding the fresh new uniforms which she just collected from the storage unit.

“Yeah?"

The boy's face is lightly freckled, his big doe eyes seem untouched by war and his freshly shaven buzzcut shows he only just arrived. 'More meat for the grinder' she muses, just another kid who doesn't belong here, like the most of them. She knows the type well enough to write a thesis about it by now. If she thought she had any brain to do that sort of stuff.

"Captain Syverson wants to talk to you.”

The kid looks her up, probably wondering why she even here. She got used to that type of stare a while ago.

“I just arrived here from another division” she explains, “didn’t even get into my uniform, what’s the fucking rush?”

The kid shrugs, looking slightly terrified as if she is supposed to be scared of Captain Syverson and shouldn’t be talking that way.

“Fine…” she sighs heavily, lowering the tip of her army hat and rolling her eyes.

As a soldier serving at the professional US army, Gallagher knows she has a shit-ton of issues with authority, yet she wouldn’t be in any other place.

The Captain sits at his office, wearing his favourite red t-shirt and army shorts that cut at his knees. A small portable fan is perched on his desk, pinning from side to side and blowing tiny droplet of sweat from his ridged forehead.

During that time of the year, the temperatures reach a level that won’t shame the fiery pits of hell. Even a southern-born man like him an effort dealing with the heat, but Sy suffers quietly, not even mentioning a word of the weather. Small-talk is a waste of time, and ain't nothing but the pretence that people care when they don't.

“Captain, Sir,” the kid walks into his room, saluting the Captain. “I have private Gallagher with me.”

The young woman follows, a blank stare on her face. She salutes toward the Captain, looking robotic and so indifferent he can tell already she had a great potential of pulling some stunt and getting detained.

“Thanks, Private Holt, you may leave now," he answers in a heavy southern accent, and voice low and rich like smoked Whiskey.

Holt leaves the room in a hurry, leaving Gallagher to stand quietly in front of the Captain. She has dressed in a plain white t-shirt and khaki field trousers while her eyes remain hidden beneath the tip of her hat.

“Sit down, soldier."

He commands, taking her file in his large dirt-stained hands.

She sits down quietly. Scanning the room with silence. It is yet another captain’s office, maps on the wall, guns and ammo. A "Slayer” labelled mug rests on in his desk with freshly brewed coffee, next to it is a deck of cards. No pinup girls posters apparent anywhere, not a perv unlike her former Captain, or at least he is hiding it in his bedroom.

He finally turns to look at her, manspreading on his chair with zero elegance or concern toward her. Why should she be treated any differently?

Captain Syverson is surprisingly a very attractive man. A big guy with broad shoulders and massive muscles. His cropped short hair does well to bring out his excellent bone structure while a few scars decorate his forehead and his upper left cheek. His strained face is covered with a thick, untamed beard which he strokes at his chin while thinking to himself.

He takes one glance at her with his fierce blue glare, and then gives her his next command “Hat off, private.”

“Sir”. She replies with compliance, taking off her hat and placing it atop her folded uniform.

One glance at her now exposed face, and he is forced to fight back a snort of laughter. He learned how to keep his emotions hooded in this job. She is petite, her arms may look strong yet quite skinny. And it’s quite a wonder that her skin is pale while serving in the middle of the fucking Iraqi desert.

If this was anywhere else right now, he’d offer her a burger. This is the elite they’ve been speaking of? For fuck sake. Better be worth it.

He is aware, of course, that she is pretty, they usually are. Chase and Annica for example. Sometimes he wonders if they send all the cheerleaders squad to his unit to fuck with him, since he can’t actually, fuck them.

“That’s better”. He gives her a small smirk which quickly fades back into what seems like his usual grumpy face.

“We’ll keep it short and honest, private,” he says, opening her file “You’ve been transferred here from your unit, they say you are a prodigy…”

“Take me out there, and I’ll shoot a rabbit between the eyes from 20 miles away.” she interrupts him, speaking coldly.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asks her with slight anger. Never in his life, he had a young recruit dare to do so, especially not a woman.

She remains silent, knowing that’s actually the required response. For change,

“Good. Your file shows amazing achievements” He throws her file in front of her with what seemed like an utter lack of actual interest “it also shows you have attitude problems.” His eyes meet hers as he says these words, his lips clasped to show some sort of severity. “Do you know what I want to know?”

Her blue eyes stare back into his with a dead gaze.

He sighs, rolling his eyes “Permission to speak granted.”

“You want to ask if I’m going to cause any trouble.”

He nods, folding his arms together, his eyes travelling up and down her features for a mere second.

“No, Captain.” She can’t promise him that even if a gun was pointed at her head, but she plays along. Everything in life is like her stupid video games anyway. Oh, she does miss those.

“Good.” He gives her another hasty smile, the kind that doesn’t show any genuine care or affection and is just meant to move the conversation forward. “So you know why you’re here?”

“I’m very good with my sniper rifle, Captain."

"It says you’re a fucking wonder”. He answers, not ashamed to curse in front of her, which she finds slightly refreshing. All the other men constantly apologize as if she doesn’t shoot people’s head-off for a living. As if women don’t see brutality as much as men do. Perhaps even more.

“Listen, I care about my men. Just live up to your name, be a good girl and you might just make daddy proud ”. He explains to her, not even regretting saying the finale part. It’s just how he talks and if she has a problem with that she might as well not be here.

But she doesn’t even flinch. Instead, she replies with a small, nearly invisible smirk and nods.

“Yes, Captain."

The Captain’s eyes lit up with the charm of a child as he smiles widely for surviving yet another conversation with a new recruit and even though he has scruff all over his face she detects two large apparent dimples in his cheek.

Finally, he stretches from his chair and stands. She follows, noticing he is menacingly tall and seems to carry himself with sheer confidence and intimidation.

"Come, I’ll show you your room."

She follows him silently down the hall. He doesn’t bother with making any boring small talk which she is actually quite thankful for. It’s easier to not try to connect with people. The base is quite loud at the moment anyway, and she’d be unable to hear half of it.

"Men go here.” He points to one room by the end of the hall and then continues walking until they pause next to a closed room, “Ladies go here, you met the other girls?” he asks to which she shakes her head “Well you will. Girls get their own private shower in the room, in under no circumstances you are to use the collective shower room”

He pauses and turns to look down at her. Eyes growing sofer all of a sudden. “Anyone ever bothers you, says anything even slightly inappropriate, you come straight to me, you get it?” he asks her, managing to sound both severe yet still soft at the same time.

“I’m just over there, by the end of the hall.” he looks to the other side, touching her shoulder without thinking, so she’ll face where he is pointing. His hand leaves her shoulder without any of them, giving it any attention.

The Captain has his own little private kingdom at the end of the very house they turned into an army base, so it seems. She wonders if that’s where all the pinup posters are hidden at.

“Enjoy your stay, Gallagher”. He speaks, looking down at her face, wondering how long will it be before he has her in his office for some sketchy behaviour.

“Thank you, Captain, I will.” she gives him another one of her forced smirks and turns away, walking into her new quarter.

He takes one look at her as she turns from him, unable to resist his natural temptation to look at her ass.

It’s small, tight, the way he likes it.

'Yes, she’s gonna be trouble.'

There are two girls in the room, sitting on their beds. A beautiful redhead with rather wide shoulders and strong arms. The other woman is somewhat petite as herself with tanned skin and beautiful dark eyes. They’re both looking quite curious to know her.

“The fuck is with your captain, walking around with severe big dick energy?!” she speaks out with sheer confidence.

The other girls look at her for a long moment, complete shock on their face by the content that came out of her mouth but then burst into laughter that can be heard all over the base.

Clearly, she isn’t the only one who noticed.

#Captain Syverson #Sand Castle #Captain BDE #henry cavill #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction

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scoutsbattlecats · 3 years

Text

Merlelight

Medicine Cat

Petite mostly-black tortoiseshell she-cat

245 moons at death (20 years) (cause of death: old age, heart stopped in sleep)

Mother: Gentlebreeze

Father: Unknown

Brother: Steadyheart

Mentor: Cottonwind

Apprentice: Tansybloom

Merlekit her brother, Steadykit, were born long before any other living cats, to Gentlebreeze. The calico queen was very secretive about the father of her kits, and refused to explain the meaning of “Merle”.

Of the two kits, the tortoiseshell she-kit was only about half the size of the black tom, causing Steadykit to start a lifelong habit of calling her “little sister”, much to Merlekit’s frustration. It’s not known which one was truly born first, as Gentlebreeze hadn’t even bothered to call for the medicine cat when she kitted.

Riverclan had just lost most of its warriors to a Greencough outbreak and a dog attack around the time that Steadykit and Merlekit were born, and Gentlebreeze was forced to return to her warrior duties before her kits were ready to leave the nursery. Unfortunately, one night during a patrol, a dog was once again loose in the clan’s territory, and Gentlebreeze was unable to get away, leaving her kits orphans.

Merlekit and Steadykit no longer needed milk when she died, but after her death they leaned on each other more than ever, as much as Steadykit annoyed his sister. This bond would be lifelong, and Steadyheart would be the only cat that would never doubt that Merlelight enjoyed his company, and who only ever had kind words to say about his sister, no matter how many times she hissed or swatted at him in her annoyance at his stupid jokes.

Before she left the nursery, Merlekit witnessed the dog once again return, this time to the camp, and attempt to take kittens from the nursery. The permanent nursery queen, Petalrain, defended the kits in the nursery, ultimately giving her life in the process. Later on, most of the kits she gave her life to save, would die when an illness swept through the clans. Seeing this, Merlekit decided that a queen’s life would always be more valuable than her kits’, that kits were potential but not a promise, and these views stuck with her throughout her training and life.

Merlekit never wanted to be a warrior. While Steadykit thought fighting was fun and couldn’t wait to start warrior training, the tortoiseshell thought it was all pointless danger. She knew right away that she would become a medicine cat, even though her mentor-to-be, Cottonwind, was infamous for his erratic and radical behavior, and Merlekit wasn’t looking forward to working with him.

At six moons, Merlepaw became Cottonwind’s apprentice, and the old white cat told her many strange stories while teaching her everything he knew about being a medicine cat. Cottonwind was a Goldstar sympathizer, the second of the final pair of Skyclan leaders, whose murder ultimately ended with the dissolving of the clan. Given his views, Cottonwind was fascinated by Twolegs, often repeating the old Goldstar motto: “Cats belong alone or in the house, and everything else is foolishness.”

Despite the old cat’s code-breaking viewpoints on living with Twolegs, he was a skilled and respected medicine cat, and he taught Merlepaw well. He would not, however, make her a full medicine cat without having her see what Twolegs were able to do.

One night, on the way home from the half moon gathering, Cottonwind told Merlepaw that they’d be taking a new route home. The tortoiseshell resisted at first, being all-too-aware of the old cat’s strange and illogical tendencies at this point, but eventually gave in and followed him.

Cottonwind eventually ended up getting Merlelight trapped in a Twoleg trap; one of the traps they used to capture wild cats, bring them in to the cutter, and then bring them back. The Twolegs took Merlepaw away, bringing her into a strange building that smelled like ammonia and fear.

It was here she met a kittypet named Vixen, who lived in the building and called herself “the office cat”. While Merlepaw was not friendly at first, as one might expect, the orange and white she-cat eventually grew on her. Vixen told Merlepaw that the Twolegs had said she was very sick, but it’s not unusual for wild cats, and that they’d make her better. Merlepaw felt fine, but Vixen explained that healthy cats don’t have fleas on their pelt or worms in their bellies, an idea that confused Merlepaw as she’d never known a cat who didn’t have at least a few fleas.

Days past, and at Vixen’s insistence, Merlepaw began to cooperate with the Twolegs, and accept their strange medicines. The tortoiseshell began to feel more comfortable than she’d ever felt her entire life, and when she asked Vixen what herbs the Twolegs used, the she-cat responded that they weren’t herbs, certainly not something they could find in any forest nearby, and that the best guess she had was that Twolegs were magical.

Eventually the Twolegs gave Merlepaw medicine that made her fall asleep, and she woke up with a belly ache and a torn ear. In a panic she asked Vixen what had happened, and the ginger she-cat explained that it was painful now, but once it healed, Merlepaw’s life would be extended and her annoying heat cycles would stop, and it was more Twoleg magic.

A few days later, the Twolegs pricked Merlepaw’s with multiple needles, and then put her back in the trap she’d been caught in, taking her back to the spot she’d been captured from. Before returning to Riverclan, Merlepaw decided to say goodbye to Vixen, who she’d grown quite fond of.

She travelled a short distance and found the cat curled up in the window of a Twoleg nest, one that smelled like the place she’d spent the last few weeks in. The cat was very happy to see her, but refused to come outside, saying that she has to stay safe indoors, and she wished Merlepaw could stay inside too.

Upon her leaving, Vixen asked Merlelight to make sure she lived longer than the other ferals she saw in her office. She added that self preservation was the most important thing, and that’s why it was best for cats to stay inside, with Twolegs.

Begrudgingly, Merlepaw returned to Riverclan, where Cottonwind made her a full medicine cat. Her mentor eventually snuck away from camp and was never seen again, leaving her to work alone - something that she absolutely preferred.

Years passed, and Merlelight was a skilled and respected medicine cat. Her brother Steadyheart was praised for his skill in battle and loyalty to his clan, but there was one problem - his “appreciation” for she-cats. As a result of his vices, the surrounding area was filling up more and more black kittens with familiar green eyes, causing Merlelight a severe amount of embarrassment. Only two of Steadyheart’s kits, his daughters Pineneedle and Ripplestream, were full-clan cats, and the only ones Steadyheart got to be a father to all the time.

Pineneedle was an irresponsible and immature cat, and Merlelight would regularly admit that while she didn’t like either of her nieces, she felt that Ripplestream was the superior cat. Still, when Pineneedle showed up in her den, expecting a local kittypet’s kits that she didn’t want, she felt obligated to help her brother’s kin.

Pineneedle gave birth to a litter of kits. By the next sunrise, however, the she-cat had snuck away, never to return to the clans. Merlelight was unsurprised, but there were no other nursing queens to take in the kits, and all Starclan told her to do was “save at least one of them”.

One by one each kit died, until the only one left was a brown tom who Pineneedle had crudely named “Dirtkit”. Merlelight instructed the warriors to seek out prey that had a milk scent, and bring it to the medicine den, and that they did. While the kit was scrawny and weak, Merlelight was able to get him past weaning age. The kit frequently asked why Merlelight didn’t use a name for him, but she never answered, and frequently sent him away lest he show interest in becoming her apprentice.

Eventually Merlelight lost her patience with the kit bombarding her with questions, and she told him everything about his mother and his name. The brown tabby did not react well, storming away and vowing to destroy the clans. He’d eventually become the leader of a group of former Skyclan cats and rogues that would plague the clans and kill countless cats for generations to come.

Years later, and Merlelight was a very old cat. She preferred to work alone, and had no interest in taking an apprentice. However, when the apprentice Tansypaw’s mentor died in combat and the orange tabby developed a tendency to panic and freeze when confronted with any sort of violence, Merlelight was forced to take her on as her apprentice. She did not want to give up her solitude, but she admitted that as far as young cats go, Tansypaw had a good head on her shoulders and a great deal of intelligence.

Merlelight and Steadyheart outlived every cat they’d known in their lives, with the exception, surely, of some of Steadyheart’s countless kits. When Steadyheart’s health began to decline, Merlelight knew what was going to happen, and she stayed by her brother’s side until he breathed his last breath. His death, though he was well over 17 years old and had lived multiple lifespans, made Merlelight even more resolved to live, even when he, their mother, and numerous Starclan cats insisted she deserved to rest. Tansypaw tried to be supportive after the death of Steadyheart, but Merlelight grew more paranoid and self-preserving.

Tansypaw was Merlelight’s apprentice for well over a year, and Starclan started pushing the tortoiseshell to make her a full medicine cat. While Merlelight admitted the tabby was ready, she did not want Starclan to feel that she could die and Riverclan would still have a fully trained medicine cat. Thus Tansypaw was Tansypaw for longer than most other apprentices, though the cat wasn’t in any sort of hurry.

After a stern scolding and vague threats from Quailstar, the clan leader during Merlelight’s birth, the old medicine cat caved. She named Tansybloom, and she knew that doing so meant her days were officially numbered.

Merlelight started having strange experiences. First, one day while she was foraging for herbs, a fox with strange starry eyes burst out of the woods and attacked her. She was a lithe cat though, and she was able to escape unharmed.

The next day, a hawk flying above Merlelight’s favorite lounging spot by the river, dropped a turtle right above where the medicine cat was resting. Fogwhisker spotted it and warned her, allowing Merlelight to rolled out of the way right it time.

Then, during a breakout of a strange illness, a severe thunderstorm raged as Merlelight had to fetch herbs from her den back in the camp. One of trees was struck by lightning, very nearly crashing down on the old cat. She was beginning to get incredibly irritable at that point, and could barely focus on her medicine duties, as she was too busy dodging death.

After two moons of escaping many different near-death experiences - dog attacks, herbs blowing into the thunderpath, attempted drownings, and greencough, Merlelight was exhausted. She’d taken herbs every night to keep her from dreaming and speaking to her warrior ancestors, and refused to go to half-moon gatherings lest Starclan throw something else at her.

One night, she took her herbs and went to sleep. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in Starclan - which confused her, as she’d taken her herbs for the night. Steadyheart and Gentlebreeze soon appeared, gently informing her that she would not be returning to her body. Tired of Merlelight escaping death, Starclan was forced to stop her heart as she slept.

She did not take this well, calling her brother and mother cowards and refusing to speak to them or anyone for at least a moon and snarling at anyone who attempted.

Then, she discovered how to communicate with living cats. She began to contact Tansybloom constantly, giving her input on every issue practically every day. Most of Starclan felt this was excessive, but preferred this behavior to the sulky and angry behavior she’d exhibited before.

When Tansybloom was attacked by one of the rogue cats and nearly died protecting Frostkit, Merlelight revived her, unwilling to allow Riverclan to be without a medicine cat. When Tansybloom died, Merlelight would painstakingly supervise Frostberry, contacting them just as often as they had their mentor. She warned them that Duckkit was dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed to make it to apprenticeship, and was frustrated when the medicine cat wouldn’t dispatch the premature kit at birth. Later on, however, she would meet with Duckpaw and teach him, in hopes she might sway him from his path. In this she ultimately failed.

Eventually Starclan had enough of Merlelight’s meddling with the living. As a punishment, Starclan decided that Merlelight had to be stopped. One morning, Merlelight woke up in the Thunderclan nursery, the first face she saw being Pigeonfluff’s, her much-hated Thunderclan rival. She’d been put in the body of a newborn Thunderclan kit, named Burntkit due to her orange coat with black speckles, the inverse of Merlelight.

Burntkit was in the medicine den long before she was apprenticed, scolding Pigeonfluff and giving him instructions, which the old gray cat finds incredibly amusing. While the kit always seems angry, both Pigeonfluff and his underling Toothcrag take it in good humor, which just frustrates the small angry animal more.

Personality:

Merlelight is not a kind cat. While she is a medicine cat, she does not have the nurturing or sympathetic nature that one might expect. When Tansypaw was her apprentice, queens would often wait until Merlelight was out gathering herbs to bring in their kits with minor injuries and illnesses, as most kits learned to fear Merlelight from an early age. This is no problem for Merlelight, who hates kits.

Merlelight is serious, reserved, inexpressive, and unemotional. Above all else she values logic and practicality, and gets annoyed at the emotional decision making of others.

While she’s by and large a cold-hearted cat, she does have a soft spot for a few individuals in her life. Her brother Steadyheart has been by her side her entire life, and she enjoys his company, even though she wishes he would stop fathering kits and take things seriously for once and will often berate him for both. She appreciates Tansybloom and her calm demeanor, and is willing to look the other way when it comes to Frostkit despite the rule about medicine cats not having kits. And when it comes to Vixen, the charming kittypet she met all those years ago - she deeply admired her, and thinks about her often, taking her advice to self-preserve above all to heart.

Merlelight had a quick temper, a sharp tongue, and very little patience, and she was very stubborn and independent. She saw fighting as beneath her and was able to go 20 years without ever being in a serious physical confrontation. She was very crafty and resourceful. She also loved her clan and would have continued to serve it until they disappeared entirely, which is why she was so reluctant to die and why she kept interfering after death.

#merlelight #profiles #don’t make a 20 year old cat character unless you want to have to include 20 years of story

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way-too-short-formysoul-corazon · 3 years

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Here’s section 2, all wrapped up for you guys to enjoy!

1: "What is she doing?" Keons asked from the control room.

"I'm not sure, but it seems she's up to something, she's not taking the drone with her. We should go check this out for ourselves," Nico replied.

"But what if she's doing it in order to not look suspicious to the rebels? She's a really smart girl -"

"And I'm not saying she's not, all I'm saying is that it's unusual. If she didn't want them to be suspicious, she could have told the drone to fly in stealth mode, could she not?"

"Well, I guess that's right... But can't we just wait a few more minutes for her to give us some indication if there are rebels in those woods?" Keons replied, starting to feel like he's been betrayed by the one whom he loves the most.

"Alright, we'll have it your way, Keons. I'll give her two minutes. If she doesn't turn up in that time, you will be the one to find her and execute her."

"Yes, sir." Keons replies, deflated, a knot welling up inside his stomach.

2: As I was walking through the thick woods, I began to think of what the people back home were saying about me. Were they proud that I went off in search of these "rebels"? What was my father thinking about behind those palace walls?

Does he even miss me?

A few minutes into my walking around, I heard footsteps. Careful, soft footsteps, and I got excited.

They're here, they're here!!! Real Banditos, I get to finally see them, finally talk to them!!!

"Hello?! I know you're out there, I can hear your footsteps! Come out, please! I promise I won't -"

"Won't what, Savanna? Won't turn them in like you said that you would?" My father said, hurt encompassing his voice.

"Th- that's not what I-! Bu- But Dad! I- I wasn't- !"

"I'm sorry, Savanna, my daughter. I never meant for this to be this way. Just don't fight, and there won't be any pain." My dad said, a tear running down his face.

He's gonna kill me, feed me to the vultures, I thought, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I need to run.

And so I did. I ran at the fastest speed I could go, running through shrubs and prickly bushes, running for my life.

3: When I finally got to where I thought was a safe place, I collapsed.

I'm done running, I can't run anymore. I'm done.

I just sat there, thinking about my life, if I would make it out of this forest alive, and what they would do if they caught me.

Shall I be made to suffer the same fate as that man back in the city? Or will a worse fate await me?

I fell into a reluctant and fear-ridden sleep. A sleep in which I never wanted, yet needed immensely.

4: Suddenly, I awaken from my nightmare sleep to find two people, Banditos, hovering over me. One of them has short, shaven hair while the other has somewhat curly hair and a pair of yellow drumsticks. I attempt to utter out the words "Who are you guys?", but nothing comes out of my mouth, and I'm stuck trying to speak and making no sound.

"It's alright, don't strain yourself. You're safe now," promised the one whose yellow duct tape was around him in an 'X' shape.

I nodded, and they helped me up. We started walking into the camp.

When we got into the camp, the Bandito beside the one with the mask suggested that I should have a tour of the camp, and his friend agreed.

"I'm sorry, we really haven't introduced ourselves, have we. My name is Tyler Joseph, this is my friend and head of the Banditos, Josh Dun," Josh waves and smiles, and Tyler motions towards the camp, "And this is our camp. Make yourself at home, please,"

I nod my head.

"Do you have a name? I mean, if you're able to talk, that is. If not, we can get you something for that," Josh inquired.

Before I was able to try to speak, a flood of Banditos, young and old, came flocking towards me, Tyler, and Josh. All I remember of what happened next is that everything went black and I collapsed.

5: A young Bandito is patrolling the perimeter of the Bandito camp. As he walks, he scans the tops of trees and the edges of the beaten path below. Something catches his eye from the ground, beckoning him to take a closer look. As he stoops down, he finds a stranger's belongings. What lies there is a red robe and an identification card. The red robe smells of death and hurt. The name on the identification card reads Savanna Keons. The face seems familiar to the young Bandito. He knows this woman, but from where? He decides to put the red robe and identification card in his carrying sack and continue patrolling the outskirts of their small camp. He goes home and realizes who the young lady is and how he recognizes her. There will be a time to show this information, but now is not it, the Bandito thinks.

6: When I awaken, I seemed to be in an infirmary of some sort, and all I see in front of me is Tyler and something else. The "something else" was small and round, with a circular head, horns, and long ears. Its eyes were like deep chasms, vast and expansive. Its color was a silvery grey. At first sight, I was frightened. I'd never seen something like this before.

"What is that? What does it do?" I asked Tyler, frightened by the newness of the being.

"Oh, him? This is our little buddy, Ned!", Ned waved at me shyly, "He's a nice companion to have, not really used to new people though. I'm sure he'll grow to like you, though!"

"Oh, ok! Well, hi, Ned!" I said while sticking my hand out towards him.

Ned just takes a couple of steps back, like he’s frightened of me.

Tyler looks confused towards Ned, asking, “What’s wrong, little buddy? What is it?”

He turns to me, saying, “He’s not usually like this, I’m sorry, I just don’t understand why he’d be like this.”

I start to get nervous, “Is there any other times when he’s like this?”

“Yea, actually, he’s usually like this when there are Bishops around, but I don’t see any, and he’s doing it only towards you, oddly”, he says, scratching his head.

I had to make an excuse, and quick, “Uh, well, I got tackled by a Bishop, and I fought him and ran away,”

Tyler looked quite unimpressed, but just said alright and left it at that, “So, how was your day so far?”

“Boring, seeing as I have to stay in this hospital bed til you guys decide what to do with me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, we’re going to have a meeting tonight, that’s one of the topics we’ll discuss,”

“Alright. Well, stay safe!”

Tyler kind of chuckles and says, “Alright, I will, Logan. You stay alive now, ok?”

“Ok,”

“Promise?”

“Promise”

7: “So, have we all came to a consensus?” leader Josh Dun inquires.

“Wait!” a young bandito exclaims, “I forgot about something important”.

“What is it, Jake?”

“I found this while I was walking the perimeter of our camp. It’s a Bishop’s cloak and a Dema identification card for a Savannah Keons,”

The entire crowd gasps,

“If you look closely at the picture, you’ll see it’s the newcomer”. Jake hands the cloak and card to Ned, who then hands it to Tyler.

Tyler and Josh take a while looking at it and debating what to do with the newcomer at this point, with all the new information that was presented just seconds ago.

“But Josh, she’s one of them! What if she came to spy on us? What if?”

“And, what if she was captured or found out the truth and is coming to start anew?”

“But, But what if-”

Josh puts his hands on Tyler’s shoulders, “Ok, ok, calm down, it’s all alright. Remember, my friend, everyone deserves a second chance, no matter what they’ve done,”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Tyler sighs.

“Now, go tell Logan to meet us at the bonfire tonight,”

“Alright,”

8: I was sitting on a stump fidgeting when Tyler and Josh came out. When I heard the flap of the makeshift tent door, I jumped up, terrified of what would come next. They already know, they already know, I’m gonna get fed to the vultures, or worse!!!

Tyler comes up to me while Josh hangs back, observing.

“Hey, Logan?” Tyler says when he gets closer to me. I start to get nervous and tremble

“Y-yes?”

“Uh, do you know what these are?” he shows me my past belongings: my cloak, badly damaged and worn, and my (former) id card, which insists on keeping me prisoner in my own skin.

I say, trying to keep the twang of fear in my voice at bay, to no avail, “Why are these here?”

“One of our Banditos picked these up patrolling the perimeter of camp. Are these really yours?” he inquired softly.

Terror runs through me as everyone’s eyes lock onto my frail being. I can’t keep it out as I yell, “It was never meant to be this way!!!” I fall onto the ground, my head forcing itself into my hands, curled up like a child.

I hear gasps, then silence.

After a while of this silence, I feel something touching my arm, like a kitten wanting affection. At first, I flinch at this new contact and yank myself up to a cradled sitting position, face wet from the salty tears that have striped patches of oil from my face, leaving them feeling like bandages.

When I look at what or who was touching me, it was Josh. He whispers to me, “It’s alright, we’ve accepted you into our crew. You’re safe from those who wish to do you harm here.”

Baffled by his actions, I say, “But I was one of them. I was sent to harm you guys,” I give a tear-filled inhale and exhale, “Why are you letting me in?”

He just smiles and says, nodding at Tyler at the end, “Because everyone deserves a second chance.” Everyone starts cheering and clapping, and Josh sticks his hand out to me. I grab his hand and he helps me up, “C’mon, we need to get you cleaned up, or else Ned’ll never warm up to you!” Josh says with a laugh. I laugh along, hearing everyone clapping and cheering me on. Me, not that dema kid who supported the murder of all those innocent people. That person was long gone, and I am what remains.

9: After everything goes quiet and all the applause stops, I inquire, “Hey, Josh, where are we going, exactly?”

“East, to where your past wrongs will be righted, to where you can be free to start anew.”

“Alright,” I say, and continue following.

When we finally get to where Josh was taking me, all I can say is wow. The place looked magnificent, like the angels themselves carved this place from the earth and put their hearts and souls into creating it.

There was a shallow, burbling waterfall trickling softly into a pond lined with several light-colored rocks, some sparkling and some not. This wondrous sight was lit by the vivid green lampshade of the trees, the leaves deflecting the sun’s rays here and there. There was greenery and assorted berry bushes and shrubs around the pond, and the entire place looked like it came from the garden of Eden.

After I was done taking in the awe of this mystical and magical place, Josh turned around while I bathed in the healing waters of this pond.

When I was done, there was a towel and a pair of Bandito attire in the tree next to me. I say thanks and josh replies with, “Don’t worry, I didn’t look,”

When we got back to camp, Tyler and Ned were waiting on us. Josh went up to Tyler, did a secret handshake, and introduced me as the new member of the crew.

He started the bonfire, and for the first time in a long time, I was with family, with people who wouldn’t hesitate to die for my sake, and for who I would die for in an instant. I was with people of my own kind. At that very moment, I could care less about what they were saying about me in the city, cause they’re talking about someone who never was.

10: My first week at camp, and I already feel at home. I’ve gotten better acquainted with our leaders, Ned too, and found a couple of friends among the crowd. A couple of notable ones I met early on; one of them happened to be the first Bandito I ever seen, remember him? Well, it turns out his name is Rodney Garron, and he’s an aroace enby who’s in a platonic relationship with his straight adhd counterpart George Evergreen. When I first saw them both in camp, Rodney almost had a heart attack, shouting, “You’re that Bishop kid! Don’t take me back! You can’t take me!!!!” Now that I’m thinking about it, their friend had to calm him down.

Oh! I’m sorry about the confusion, Rodney likes to be referred to as he or they. Anyways, back to it then.

After their friend calmed him down, he explained everything about himself, how he grew up watching Good Day Dema, how they came to the camp in the middle of a snowstorm, and how seeing a Bishop take off their hood and offer their hand took several hours of heavy meditation to get over. I laughed and said sorry to that last one.

On another note, I got to see someone I haven’t seen since I was in training up in the city. he used to be my teacher, he was my teacher for all of my training, and I was wondering what happened to him…

“I thought you were dead, teach?”

“Miracles happen, my young one,”

“But, they said you were exterminated! They said tha-”

“They say, they say, they say. They say one thing, but what does your heart say?”

I hesitate, give him a big hug, and demand him tell me how he escaped.

This is Logan Slife, and this is my story.

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

Photo

The next Cinderella AU part is here...and I am so thrilled about this part, because not only do we get a new character (who I’m quite sure you can identify from the sketch above -- only my second time drawing him ever, and I’m actually pretty happy with it!), but we’ll also get a nice serving of drama! Goodie!!

Robin Hood as a legendary figure first originated through the oral tradition, so its history is a little hard to plot out, but his first reference in writing is a ballad from the 15th century. Although our modern image of Robin Hood is that of a chaotic good heroic figure, his original incarnation was decidedly less saintly -- he was a bandit, and although he did refrain from stealing from women, he was rather violent, reckless, and hot-tempered, as well as flagrantly against both clerics and all nobility. Robin Hood’s backstory of being a disgraced nobleman who turned outlaw after losing his title and land and who remains loyal to the “good king” Richard while opposing the unlawful regent Prince John was added later, presumably to make him a bit more “approachable” to an Elizabethan audience who was more accustomed to hearing tales about nobility (just look at a lot of Shakespeare’s plays from that period -- many of them center around royalty or the upper class). Plays about or referencing Robin Hood then increased in popularity on the British Isles throughout the 16th and early 17th century, until the rise of Puritanism in the 1640′s put a halt to theatrical productions. (Bloody kill-joys.) For more information on the history of Robin Hood’s development, I strongly recommend this analysis done by Overly Sarcastic Productions (...actually, just watch everything on their channel, it’s all great XD).

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had a lot of trouble returning to her daily routine at the palace the following morning. Getting so close to the border with Orion and hearing about how much scarier it was likely to get on the battlefield made her all the more worried for Jacob’s well-being. Even if the spell Charles Cromwell had paid for nine years ago made it so that Jacob would stay alive as long as he willed it, Carewyn dreaded the thought of what harm, physical and emotional, that Jacob might face. If she only had some idea which battalion he was a part of and where on the front he’d be, then she could always just try to send a letter his way...maybe even ask Orion to drop it off to the camp for her, since his father was an officer. But Carewyn had combed every military roster she could get her hands on, but hadn’t been able to find a single record of Jacob anywhere.

‘He must be under another name,’ Carewyn told herself.

It wouldn’t be too unreasonable that Charles wouldn’t want Jacob to advance in the ranks on the back of their family name. And really, Carewyn knew full well how displeased her grandfather would be if he found out she was trying to reach out to her brother without his approval -- he could’ve even forced Jacob to take on another name, just to try to make it that bit harder for Carewyn to contact him without his approval...

Carewyn’s friends noticed a rather abrupt shift in her mood. She was singing as always, but her choices were a bit less upbeat and her voice sounded oddly distracted and nostalgic. At one point, Andre mentioned offhandedly that he’d been designing themed outfits for his friends to wear to his mother’s New Year Eve’s Masque Ball, but Carewyn had trouble putting much attention on it.

“I’ve already finished some ‘owl wings’ on a cape for KC and a fur-trimmed wolf mask and gown for Erika...I was thinking perhaps a stag for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, and a lioness for Ginny? I considered a horse at first, but I think a pale gold would make her just glow, don’t you think? Yours I’m most excited for, though...I’m hoping to actually make your newest pair of shoes with fabric on the inside for comfort and diamond on the outside for sturdiness, if I can manage it!”

“Mm...that sounds great,” said Carewyn absently.

Her gaze was drawn out the nearest window, as far out as she could.

“...Andre,” she said slowly, “I realize this is very last minute, but...may I have this afternoon off, to go see my family?”

Andre blinked. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, no,” Carewyn lied with as pretty and reassuring of a smile as she could. “It’s just...well, it’s nearly Tristan’s birthday. My uncle keeps him very close to home, compared to my other cousins...I merely thought I might stop by and bake him a little something, as a surprise.”

Andre frowned slightly. “You...get along better with your uncle and his son than with Iris, then?”

“No, but Tristan is only a boy. It’s hard to hold any bad behavior against him. And well, maybe if he and the others don’t know I made it, he’ll enjoy it better.”

Carewyn could see Andre still looked confused and a little dismayed, so she quickly added, “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, in time for my rounds. I won’t allow it to interrupt my duties.”

Andre offered a hesitant smile. “Well, all right...if it really means that much to you.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Andre -- I really appreciate it.”

Fortunately for Carewyn, Andre wasn’t the best at picking up on other people’s pretenses. Unfortunately for Carewyn, two of his most regular confidantes were his cousin KC and fencing instructor Erika, and they did pick up on Carewyn’s odd behavior.

“She said she wanted to surprise her cousin with something for his birthday?” asked KC, frowning deeply.

“Well, yeah,” said Andre. “I admit, it seemed a little weird to do something so nice without even wanting credit, but Carewyn is an awfully selfless sort. From the way she made it sound, she just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“And you believed her?” said Erika rather coldly.

She whacked Andre’s practice sword out of his hand with her own, making the Crown Prince hiss in pain.

“I’ve told you before, Prince Henri -- you all may think Carewyn Cromwell’s nothing like her family, but that’s absolute bunk. She might be more pleasant than them, but she’s not stupid and she’s not honest. Or did you not notice that that weird guy she hangs out with keeps calling her ‘his lady,’ as if she weren’t the penniless orphan of a deadbeat merchant?”

Erika picked up Andre’s sword and tossed it back to him with ease.

“Then of course that guy himself is shady as all get out.”

Andre frowned. “You mean Orion? Come on, Erika, he isn’t that bad -- I thought he seemed quite amiable, myself. Don’t you agree, KC?”

“He is,” said KC fairly. “But Erika isn’t completely off-base. There is a lot about Orion that we don’t know -- that even Carewyn herself doesn’t know. She admitted as much to me, after I first met him. That being said,” she raised her own sword and got into position to attack Andre, “I don’t think Orion’s a threat. You would think anyone with the ability to sneak over the palace walls not once but twice would’ve tried to make some move to attack you by now, but he’s only ever come looking for Carewyn. And although I don’t completely understand the reason behind why she’s acting like a lady around him,” she shot Erika a faintly reproachful look as she and Andre traded blows, “I’m pretty sure it has more to do with her own insecurities than because she’s a terrible person -- ow! Damn it!”

Andre had successfully disarmed KC.

“Insecurities?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What is there for her to be insecure about? I mean, yes, she has no dowry, and taking Orion’s wardrobe into account, I’d suppose he has to come from a family with modest wealth -- but Orion seemed to enjoy the Weasleys’ company quite well, and their family is poor. I think they’d make a lovely match, really,” he added with a rather smug grin. “They even matched at the Festival, without realizing it.”

KC massaged her wrist, frowning a bit sourly. “Yes...but Carewyn is solely under Lord Cromwell’s charge. He’s the one who sent her here. He’s the only guardian she really has. And I think it’s quite clear how much influence he has over his family -- even his daughters who married into other esteemed families still live at his estate with their husbands and children, rather than moving out onto their own estates. And in Carewyn’s case, she doesn’t even have a parent to help shield her from Lord Cromwell’s will. She doesn’t have a penny to her name. So that means, in effect, she’s chained to him, and in those circumstances...well...”

She hesitated.

"Well what?” Andre prompted her.

KC looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t want to say anything before without knowing for sure...but I think someone’s been looking at our military ledgers, documenting troop placements. Everything’s neatly put away the way they should be, but there are more fingerprints on them than before. And usually I’m the only one who has much use to look those up, whenever I’m ready to suggest a new war strategy...”

Erika’s eyes narrowed very sharply and she got right up into KC’s space. “And you’re only just saying this now?! That information could be critical to Royaume’s enemies! What if that guy Orion sneaked in not just to see Cromwell, but to get his hands on those? Or what if it was Cromwell herself, working in collusion with him?”

“Impossible,” Andre said forcefully. “Carewyn would never be a spy for the enemy -- it’s not in her character.”

“And I don’t think Orion would know where those documents would be, even if he did sneak in,” said KC.

Erika, however, looked unconvinced as she made for the door. “You can coddle those two all you want, but I plan to tell the King and Queen -- they’ll want to interrogate Cromwell and this ‘Orion Freeman’...”

“Erika, belay that!” Andre said in a suddenly much sharper and more authoritative voice. “That’s an order.”

Once Erika had stopped walking and turned back around, the Crown Prince exhaled heavily and crossed his arms in a business-like manner.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said firmly. “If Carewyn is heading to the Cromwell estate, she’ll have to take the road through town, correct? I’ll simply take a horse and follow the road after her.”

Erika and KC looked startled.

“Uh, Andre,” said KC, “you haven’t forgotten that you’re not allowed to leave the palace, have you?”

Andre smirked. “No. I’m just sneaking out.”

Before Erika and KC could articulate an argument, he added in a much sassier voice, “Look, I’m doing it whether you come with me or not. I’d appreciate the company if you want to come along -- all I expect is that you’ll dress appropriately. I hear linens and cottons are fashionable for those who don’t wish to attract attention.”

And so Andre, KC, and Erika made preparations to follow Carewyn...completely unaware that a half-hour earlier, Bill and Charlie Weasley had -- after having a similar, but much more concerned conversation with Badeea Ali about Carewyn clearly lying to Andre’s face -- decided to take their horses and tail their friend themselves. And sure enough, the two eldest Weasleys soon enough found themselves following Carewyn on the road heading northeast, avoiding the Cromwell estate all together.

At the very same time, in Florence, Orion had finalized his plan. Today was the day he was going to request a formal audience with Prince Henri, as Prince Cosimo VII. As Carewyn had said, he’d need to act fast if he was going to stop his father from finding a way to complete his own ruthless strategy -- the battlefield itself would be a difficult place for Orion to make his case, with so many distractions, but he knew a more balanced, peaceful setting wouldn’t be. And so he wrote a long letter to the King, explaining everything that he had learned from Royaume and its people as well as Florence’s own, so as to make a case for peace. He then had the court magician Severus Snape deliver it to the Florentine camp in his stead, while he dressed in his finest and prepared to leave for Royaume.

When he made as if to take his own horse, however, Orion found Skye and McNully waiting for him, a black coach already prepared.

“If you’re planning on going to meet Prince Henri, you really should arrive in style,” said McNully with a wry smile. “A good first impression to the King and Queen would help your case by a good 45%.”

“And you have to know there’s no way in Hell we’re going to let you go out and expose your true identity to the enemy without back-up,” Skye added, her arms crossed over her chest. “

Orion’s black eyes softened. “...Thank you.”

As he climbed into the carriage, both McNully and Skye’s faces nonetheless betrayed some hesitation.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McNully asked. “There’s a 74% chance they’ll respond badly to it -- I reckon there’s a 39.5% chance they’ll try to arrest you on the spot and hold you as a prisoner of war...”

“I carry no weapons with me, and I come with the explicit purpose of diplomacy,” said Orion levelly. “Therefore I’m not an enemy combatant. As long as I follow their direction while under their roof, then any harm they might do me would be violating the conventions of war...and the Royaumanians, for all of their flaws, do have honor.”

“One could make a case for you having been involved in espionage, though,” McNully pointed out, but Orion ignored him and settled down in the carriage, crossing his legs offhandedly.

“What about Lady Cromwell?” said Skye, her voice a bit lower and more concerned. “She’ll find out you’re a Florentine. And not just any Florentine, the Prince of Florence.”

Something sad flickered through Orion’s confident, unflappable expression.

“She was going to learn the truth sooner or later,” he murmured. “If our time together has come to an end...then at least I may have the memories to hold onto...and the knowledge that by ending this War peacefully, I may have spared her of more heartache.”

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, clearly having said his piece on the matter. Skye and McNully, however, couldn’t help but exchange a look that was both anxious and very sad.

As long as they’d known Orion, he’d always been a little reckless, but he was also passive and avoided direct confrontation. This plan to directly appeal to Royaume’s royal family, however, required a lot of guts -- far more than either of them had thought Orion possessed. And they knew such courage could only have been encouraged by one person...the very same person who Orion loved so much that he would choose to follow her example and protect what she loved, even if it meant destroying their relationship forever.

Orion meditated during most of the journey to the Royaumanian palace. It was merely fortunate that, as they approached, McNully broke him out of his trance by tapping him on the shoulder and pointing out the window. If he hadn’t, then Orion would not have seen a rather familiar trio of riders on horseback, riding through town past them -- a short, stocky lady with dark red hair and freckles; a very tall blonde with a square jaw and sharp eyes; and a very handsome dark-skinned man dressed in a purple tunic, emerald green pants, and gold-buckled black boots.

“Stop the carriage!” said Orion, his soft, level voice nonetheless very firm despite not rising in volume.

He barely waited for the carriage to completely stop before slamming the door open and jumping out.

“Andre! KC!”

Andre, KC, and Erika all stopped their horses in an abrupt halt and turned around as Orion dashed up to them.

“Orion?” said Andre, startled.

KC looked from the rather finely dressed Orion to the expensive-looking black coach behind him and back. Erika’s eyes narrowed critically upon Orion as he came to a stop in front of them, his hands clasping in front of him.

“I...had not expected to see you out and about,” said Orion, trying to put on his most pleasant, calm expression.

Andre glanced over his shoulder up the road, frowning deeply. “Yes, well...some business has come up.”

“Orion, have you seen Carewyn?” KC asked him, her face very serious.

Orion blinked.

“Not since last night,” he said. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Never you mind,” barked Erika, as she turned back to the road. “Come on, we don’t want to lose the trail -- ”

“Erika,” reproached Andre, before he turned back to Orion, his face visibly concerned. “...Carewyn asked for the afternoon off to go see her family, but it was very last minute, which isn’t like her. And according to what we’ve heard in town, there’s been no traffic down the road toward the Cromwell estate in the last four hours...”

“So Carewyn had to have been lying about where she was going,” finished KC, her face much more stoic but her voice no less tense. “We need to find her and figure out why.”

Orion’s eyebrows had furrowed over his widening black eyes. His heartbeat was slamming in his ears as the memory of Carewyn in the woods returned to him -- looking northward, toward the army camps, as if longing to run toward them --

“I know where she’s gone,” he said at once.

He rushed back to the coach, grabbing onto the window frame and standing on the boot of the carriage.

“To the northern border,” he urged Skye, who sat in the driver’s seat. “Quickly!”

“The border?” repeated Skye as a sharp whisper. “But Orion, your meeting with the Prince -- ”

“Can come later,” Orion told her very firmly under his breath. “Both he and I must get to the war front.”

He shot a significant look over his shoulder in Andre’s direction. McNully, putting two-and-two together, nodded and inched himself up to the window of the carriage.

“If you tie one or more of your horses to the carriage, we should decrease our travel time by a good 21% per horse,” he told Erika, KC, and Andre. “If Carewyn left an hour ago, then with one horse, we should be able to overtake her within an half-hour -- two, within twenty minutes, and three, within ten. Though with Orion on the boot, there’s a 12% chance he’ll fall off if we ride at full speed, so we might have to go at 95% instead -- ”

KC fixed the blond-haired man with an incredulous look as she leapt off her horse.

“Are you really calculating all that on the fly,” she asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused, “or are you just pulling those numbers out of fat air?”

McNully couldn’t help but grin. “Excellent! Now I can officially say that I’ve been asked that question over a hundred times before.”

Still looking faintly bewildered, KC moved to help Andre, who’d quickly started attaching his, Erika’s, and her horse’s to the front of the carriage with the two black ones already pulling it, ignoring Erika’s incredibly sour and distrustful expression. There was no time to lose.

From the boot of the carriage, Orion directed Skye down the same road he’d taken with Carewyn the previous night, Andre, Erika, and KC riding with McNully inside the coach. Once they’d reached the forest, Orion caught sight of a familiar-looking golden eagle with a bandaged wing -- at the sight of the Florentine prince, the eagle gave a loud shriek and flew down into the trees, and Orion urged Skye to pursue him into the woods. The road took them deep into the trees, until at last the eagle landed on a branch over the heads of two familiar-looking ginger-haired men, who were bound with thick rope to a tree.

Bill and Charlie were stunned at the sight of such an elegant coach, but were absolutely beside themselves with relief at the sight of Andre, KC, and Erika. Erika immediately yanked a knife out of her ankle boot and set about sawing off their bindings -- once she’d cut Charlie free, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed Andre’s shoulders.

“We’ve got to hurry!” he said anxiously. “They’ve got Carey!”

“‘They?’” said Andre, very startled. “They who?”

“This band of Florentine bandits,” said Bill, his voice very low and urgent. He kept maneuvering his bindings as Erika cut them to try to sever them faster. “They cornered us so they could try to rob us -- they were willing to let Carey go since she was a lady, but she bartered with the leader, saying that they could take her so long as they left us alone. Claimed that they could probably get more money from holding her hostage than us, given her family...”

Both Skye and McNully glanced at Orion. The Prince’s face had lost most of its color -- he’d turned his face away and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he tried to stabilize his emotions.

“The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you,” Baroness McGonagall’s words returned to his mind, “but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

“They took all three of our horses and tied us to the tree so that we wouldn’t follow them,” growled Charlie. “They left us a knife so that we’d be able to cut ourselves free, but it’s so dull I reckon it would’ve taken us hours to do it ourselves...”

Bill succeeded in snapping the weakened ropes in half and leapt back to his feet, massaging his wrists.

“They must have taken her to a camp of theirs,” said KC, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Even bandits need some base of operation.”

McNully nodded, resting his arms on the edge of the coach’s window. “The lady is right. Given where we are, I’d say the odds are fairer that it’s southeast of here.”

“Closer to the Florentine side of the border, you mean,” presumed KC, and McNully nodded again.

“They were heading south through the woods,” said Bill. “But we won’t want to bring the coach. They stopped us because they wanted money -- if they have any reason to think any of you have it, they’ll no doubt want to imprison you too...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion in a very low voice, “this carriage may be just the thing we need, to ensure that they don’t imprison us.”

Everyone looked at Orion, their faces all a mixture of incredulity and revulsion, but he seemed disinterested in explaining himself.

“We must be quick, McNully,” said Orion, and although his voice and face were as level and unreadable as ever, they both betrayed a slight edge. “Time is not on our side.”

With Bill now sitting with the driver’s seat next to Skye and Charlie hanging off the boot with Orion, the black coach set off again. Overhead Orion caught sight of the wounded eagle again, which shrieked at them warningly -- the Prince thought it must mean they were close, but did not respond fast enough to the trap set out in front of them.

The coach rode right through a certain cluster of vines, and within seconds, they had magically sprung to life, lashing themselves around the limbs of the five horses pulling the coach. The steeds reared back, panicked -- Skye immediately yanked out a sword from her belt and began hacking away at them, and Erika and Andre both leapt from the carriage with their own swords to help, but it was no use. The vines only lashed onto them, binding all three of them fast and making it impossible for them to move. And when things seemed like they couldn’t be any worse, without warning, a group of green-dressed men and women had swung down from more vines attached to the nearby trees, surrounding them in a tight noose-like circle and pointing their arrow-decked bows at them.

They were trapped.

“Well, well,” said a voice from the trees above, “we don’t often see coaches that ritzy out here.”

The voice’s owner leapt down to the ground. Unlike his companions, his hooded tunic was yellow instead of green. When he lifted his head enough that they could see his face, it was the host of a mischievous smirk.

“Especially ones crafted in Florence,” the dark-haired and eyed bandit said breezily.

Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys all stiffened.

“Florence?” breathed Bill.

They all as a unit whirled on Orion. His face was remarkably calm and solemn as he stepped off the coach and in front of the others and faced the bandits’ leader, his hands clasped in front of him.

“We do not come seeking trouble,” he said. “We merely come to retrieve a lady who surrendered herself to you. Frame like a robin’s. Hair the color of a red sunset. Eyes the color of the sky.”

The bandit’s leader raised his eyebrows curiously. “The maid called Cromwell?”

“That is her.”

“And what reason would you desire her in your custody?” challenged one of the green-dressed bandits with a cocked eyebrow, a dashing man with tanned skin and dark brown hair.

“Wants to ransom her off himself, no doubt,” sneered another woman with messy brown hair and cold magenta eyes. “He probably works for Lord Malfoy -- we all know he’s the sort to make money off illicit enterprises and keep it all to himself, rather than give it to anyone who actually needs it...”

Two of the other bandits -- a pair of women with long red and short pink hair, respectively -- exchanged a sour look.

“We have nothing to do with Lord Malfoy,” spat Skye, vainly tugging against the vines binding her. “We wouldn’t collaborate with that rat if you paid us -- !”

“Skye,” said Orion in a quelling voice.

The last bandit, a very strong-looking man with dark red hair and emerald green eyes, frowned deeply at the leader, who considered Orion carefully.

“I know your face,” he murmured.

Orion inclined his head, his black eyes boring into the other man’s face. “I’m sure you do.”

The leader’s thin-lidded eyes narrowed critically -- then they widened, realizing.

“Bring out Lady Cromwell at once,” he said abruptly.

The others all whirled on him.

“What?!” cried all three women and the dashing man.

“Jae, are you mad?!” said the woman with the magenta eyes.

“Do it,” said the leader called Jae firmly, without flinching.

The strong bandit -- the only one who hadn’t questioned the leader’s direction -- grabbed a vine, which immediately retracted back up above them.

Jae glanced at the magenta-eyed woman. “Merula, have the vines set them loose.”

Merula looked rather scandalized. “What? Oh come on, you know how much of a pain it is, to have to recast a spell after it’s broken -- ”

“Better that we do it now than wait around for the spell to expire on its own,” Jae said dryly.

Still looking very reluctant, Merula nonetheless did as she was told, holding up her hand, which glowed with light green.

“The terms are now invalid,” she muttered sourly at the plants.

The plants sparkled with a similar green flare before falling limply off of the horses, Andre, Erika, and Skye. KC and Bill moved to detangle the now harmless plants from their companions and around the horses’ legs, and Charlie moved to soothe the frightened steeds.

Within a minute, the strong bandit was back, holding onto the vine easily with one hand and holding Carewyn under his opposite arm. She had her ginger hair tied back in a loose bun and was dressed in the green peasant dress she’d worn to the Festival and her slightly oversized brown shoes -- no doubt because it was the most comfortable dress for travel she had. Orion was also beyond relieved to see that she was perfectly unharmed -- not a single cut or bruise.

“CAREWYN!” cried KC, Andre, Bill and Charlie in relief.

All three of the men immediately dashed right over to her and threw their arms around her in a group hug.

“It’s all right,” Carewyn reassured them with a small smile. “I’m all right.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Bill interrogated her.

“You must have been terrified -- ” said Andre.

“Where are the horses?” asked Charlie.

“Tied up in a makeshift stable over there,” said the pink-haired bandit with a wry grin and a vague hand gesture.

“A bit tricky to lug them up into treehouses,” added the red-haired one cheekily. “And no, for the record, we did not hurt Carewyn Cromwell. She may be a stick in the mud, but she’s a decent sort.”

“And brave too!” said the muscled man, beaming. “She wasn’t scared at all, not even when Merula stuck a knife in her face!”

“I was only getting fed up with her smart remarks,” huffed the magenta-eyed bandit called Merula. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba, with how she acts...”

“She is a proper lady, to be sure,” said the dashing bandit, shooting Carewyn a rather Casanova-like smile.

Carewyn tried to stifle a snort of laughter behind her hand as Jae approached her.

“Seems you’ll have an escort after all, Carewyn,” he said, lowering his bow with a slightly more serious look. “I don’t think I can convince you to reconsider, but under the circumstances...well, just make sure you’re careful. I’d hate to hear of Royaume losing one of its only honorable citizens due to their own stupidity.”

Carewyn inclined her head to him, her blue eyes very solemn. “I’m far from Royaume’s most honorable citizen, Jae, nor from any other country, I daresay. But thank you.”

Jae nodded. He then looked up at Orion.

“By your leave then, your Highness,” he said with an abbreviated bow.

He then nodded to the other bandits, and one by one, they all disappeared back up into the trees.

None of the people on the ground, however, gave them much mind. All of them had turned back around to face Orion -- Carewyn felt like her heart had stopped still as she stared, taking in his neat ponytail and finely tailored black doublet and hose and boots.

“...‘Your Highness?’ ” repeated Charlie, shocked.

Andre’s eyes widened. “Then...then you’re...?”

Orion swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure as he nodded. His eyes were locked on Carewyn’s face, never shifting and as turbulent as a black ocean.

“King Cosimo’s new heir,” KC breathed, her face flooding with fresh understanding around her amazement. “Cosimo VII.”

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inglourious-imagines · 4 years

Text

The Only One (Lewis Nixon)

Requested by: @dontfearthereaper-09

Summary: You're Colonel Sink's granddaughter and you're helping out with paperwork - you eventually fall in love with Lewis Nixon and start dating. However, every relationship has its ups and downs.

Prompt: a requested one - I wish I'd never met you.

Author's Note: I struggled so hard with this and I'm not proud of it at all, but hope it is what you wanted. A big thank you goes to for @alienoresimagines and her great help as always!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @stressedinadress @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday

"He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began." - Anna Karenina, L. Tolstoj

Y/N had never in her life shooted from a rifle or even held it in her innocent hands. She had never known combat, real combat, where men kill and die. She had never endured real physical pain.

And still, Y/N was standing in the middle of Camp Toccoa during the hot summer days of 1942 with a huge grin on her face. She finally persuaded her grandfather to let her join the paratroopers. Well, she was there to help out with paperwork mainly, to be there at hand for the intelligence officers, but she also managed to pull a few strings so she will be undergoing the combat training like every other soldier even though she's not allowed to go and fight in France.

The first weeks were exhausting - physically and mentally - with the combat training Y/N volunteered for. She constantly felt like she's at the verge of giving up and going home.

But Y/N didn't and neither will she. Even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life, it seemed right. This is where Y/N Sink belonged.

But thank God it wasn't just exercise, work and signing documents. One evening, when everything was finished for the day, her grandfather Sink took her with him to a certain celebration, more like an occasion to get drunk and forget that a war is going on just across an ocean.

It was certainly the most eventful night during her stay in Camp Toccoa, Georgia. Y/N lost her grandfather nearly 10 minutes after they walked in the pub. She immediately befriended two guys - George Luz and Joe Liebgott. It seemed like they'd known each other for years. The soldiers heard all about the mysterious woman that had been helping out in their training camp weeks ago now but never really got the chance to talk to her.

George introduced her to the rest of his friends within Easy Company and they spend the night together laughing, downing shots one after another, dancing and joking around. Y/N felt relaxed and genuiely unworried that night so when they were told to break it up and get some sleep for tomorrow, it suddenly saddened her. The Easy Company boys were the most welcoming, kind and funny men Y/N'd met during her stay and she was sure that she's not gonna have a chance to talk to them like that night for a long time.

There was a soldier waiting for her outside of the pub to escort her into her room but Y/N kindly told him to fuck off and he made sure to be quickly on his way.

So there she was again, standing under the starry night in Georgia, a warm summer breeze dancing through her hair while she struggled a bit to remain on her feet due to all the alcohol flowing in her veins.

"Have a trouble finding your way, Miss Sink?" a deep voice filled her ears and Y/N jumped a bit on her spot as she didn't see him coming from behind.

"I'm perfectly fine, soldier." she tried to answer with a firm steady voice but a quiet giggle escaped her lips.

"I can see that. Let me help you there, Miss." he offered his help kindly, smirking. The Moon was illuminating his face making his hair appear darker than the night itself and his eyes shined like two stars up at the sky.

"I assure you, Mr Nixon, that I have no trouble at all. I can manage myself." Y/N stood behind her words but a part of her desired his gentle hand on her lower back steadying her.

"I'm surprised you know my name." Nix laughed raising his eyebrows as he took a few steps closer to her.

"And I'm surprised it was just a can of peaches." Y/N replied boldly looking directly into his dark eyes.

They were covered in silence for a few moments but they burst out laughing in the next second earning some "shut the fuck ups" from the nearest barracks.

The duo spent the rest of the night walking around the camp as they eventually ended up in her room talking about nothing and everything. By the next morning, Y/N knew every little thing about Lewis and he knew every little thing about her.

It was no surprise, to Easy Company boys or even his grandfather, that the two of them started dating just a couple of days after the party. Richard Winters soon payed Y/N a visit informing her how he's never seen Lew so damn happy and cheerful all the time.

•••

At the end of May, 1944 when all the preparations for D-Day were finishing, another party was thrown in honor of the paratroopers that had earned their jump wings. Y/N persaued Sink to take her to Britain with him so she was able to celebrate with all of them.

She was a bit tipsy already because George Luz made her drink three beers and the forth was already on its way.

Lewis Nixon glared at the duo with a bottle of whiskey in his right hand and a cigarette in the left. He watched how Y/N's lips curled into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen at something George whispered in her ear. She burst out in a hearty laugh as she touched Luz's shoulder gently and this simple action reminded Lewis the night they met for the first time. An uneasy feeling burned through his chest - it suddenly became hard to breathe. Nixon clenched the glass in his hands and he'd have break it eventually if Richard didn't shake with Lew's shoulder.

"Not now, Dick," the intellingent officer snapped immediately, "we'll talk tomorrow. I'm heading back to my room."

And with that, he stood up and walked out of the pub without any other glance toward his girlfriend. The bottle of Vat '69 was left on the table half full.

•••

"Baby? Why did you disappear so quickly?" Y/N barged in his room while he was sitting behind his desk looking out of the window absently.

"You seemed quite happy with George." Nixon murmured quietly, he didn't even bother to turn and face her.

"What is this all about? Is there a problem?" she asked kindly moving closer to her broken soldier. The sweet tone of her voice was making it even harder than it already was.

Lewis Nixon looked at her for the first time. "I think we shouldn't be seeing each other anymore." He sounded decided, strongly convinced in his statement.

Y/N suspiciously eyed his face whereas Lewis tried to avoid her concerned look. "Is this about George?"

"No, it's not about fucking George!" Lewis raised his voice and stood up from the little chair, "you are better without me, okay? I drag you down, Y/N."

She stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? I love you and only you, damn it!"

"You just think you do!"

Y/N's eyes began to water and when the first hot tear rolled down her cheek Nixon's heart broke into million pieces. He hated himself for hurting the most precious human being on the Earth but he had to do it. There was no other way.

"I wish you trusted me more, Lew." she breathed out reaching out to caress his cheek but changed her mind in the last second and her hand fell to her body.

Lewis pressed his eyelids tightly together forcing the coming tears stay inside of his soul. "I wish I'd never met you."

•••

The next days hit Y/N harder than her first days at Toccoa. No combat training, no amount of paperwork had ever made her feel so broken, tired and demotivated. As weird as it sounds, even after the relatively short relationship with the Easy Company intelligence officer, Lewis was a big important part of her life. He made her feel so many new emotions, he fulfilled her soul and heart like nobody else did.

And now, it was all gone.

Everyone noticed the sudden cold behaviour between Y/N and Lewis but they didn't really know what happened. Y/N brushed it off every single time when someone asked her and no one really dared to approach Nixon.

It wasn't like the duo stopped communicating absolutely. Lewis after the argument stormed off and got drunk, he was genuiely wasted, but he also realised what a mistake he did. It was the first time Y/N told him she loved him and he was still able to make the person who cared for him the most go away.

When Y/N tried her best to avoid Nixon, he tried his best to talk to her as much as possible, every day he left her a note at her desk along with a flower and every time she accidentally glanced at him he sent her an apologetic smile.

Y/N knew her anger and hurt was slowly fading away. Lewis felt truly sorry - alcohol and jealousy wasn't really a great combination.

•••

My dearest Y/N,

I know you don't want to have anything to do with me, and I don't blame you, but there's still something I need to tell you. I'm just gonna hope that this sort of letter is not lying in the bin already.

I want you to know that I regret every single word I said that night. Clearly my jealousy and my alcoholic problem (as much as you hate me right now, please don't tell anyone I just admitted that) came in the way and I thought you're better off without me.

I'm not the perfect boyfriend, Y/N, and I never will be. I'm not funny as George, and I guarantee you there's gonna be more arguments between us. But I can assure you that no matter what happens, I will love you for the rest of my life.

Hope you can forgive me,

I'm sorry.

With love, your Lewis

A tear soaked into the piece of paper as she pressed it to her heart. Little did Y/N know that she will love the idiot forever.

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dragonswithjetpacks · 3 years

Text

Theurgist

Chapter Four: The Shadow of Anger

-dragonswithjetpacks

Summary: That surge was quickly squashed as a dark shadow swarmed her mind again. It clouded her thoughts. It struck down any empathy she might have felt. And replaced it with hate. The shadow rippled, revealing another grasp of icy fingers, bending her will to bring her to her knees with guilt. Ferelith fought it. She refused to give in to the mind meld, refused to be its thrall.

Notes: So quick note about Ferelith. She is a very prideful person. Even what some might call a know-it-all. Very eloquent and charismatic, even when she shouldn't be. Of course, it does sometimes lean in her favor. There is also a very temperamental side to Ferelith. A stubborn and dangerous one. She is selfish. Very selfish. And greedy. She will be angry until she has her way. Also, I am notorious for writing long fight scenes. So I shortened this one up so it didn’t up with another 10k words. This is mostly game retell with Ferelith’s personal feelings. And a few little fun quips in dialogue. Not my favorite chapter or my best writing.

Read here on Ao3.

One day. It had only been one sodding day. Ferelith lay on her back blinking into the purple sky as the sun rose over the horizon. She lay listening to the river, the birds, the trees swaying in the wind, the sound of shifting bodies as the others began to wake. Astarion- who had been awake with her for several hours now- remained incredibly quiet the rest of the night, much to her surprise. But he had learned quickly that Ferelith, although approachable, was not so easy to converse with. Especially after ending their last conversation as awkward as they had. She wasn’t sure how long he had been gone when he did leave the camp. She didn’t care, but she wondered if he had taken his rest at some point. After all, they would need their strength to make it through the day. She rose to her feet, stretching her arms high above her head before heading toward the water to freshen her face. It was cold, but at least it was clean. She dipped her hands into it, splashing it up onto her cheeks when the sound of footsteps over rocks were heard behind her.

“What were you two talking about?” Shadowheart asked, kneeling down to feel the water for herself.

“Who?” Ferelith asked, running her hands around her neck.

“You and our rogue companion,” she barely looked up. “I heard you two chatting last night.”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just about the camp.”

“I see,” she stated, but it felt as if she were looking for something specific. “I would be careful with who you confide in.”

Ferelith flung the remaining water from her hands. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about when it comes to who I confide in.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s a very short list,” she grinned.

“Good,” she said while rising onto her feet. “Let’s just hope we rapidly find a healer.”

“Once we’ve reached the temple, we could get on higher ground. Take a look at what we should expect from the wilderness and if there’s a village nearby.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” she crossed her arms.

“It also would be wise,” another voice approached from the fire, now smoking as it had been doused, “to check the wreckage for any more supplies. We’ve about gone through any rations we’ve found. Unless anyone has a knack for hunting.”

The two woman looked to Gale first, then to each other, frowning with disappointment. All three of them looked in unison at the rogue waiting by the fire, kicking dirt as he was already impatient. He had a set of knives on his persons, but no bow. Ferelith recalled the fishermen she found at the docks. There were poles there they could use to fish, if need be. She was certain their supplies had already been ransacked. Not only by herself, but possibly by the bandits Gale had mentioned before.

“Say, Astarion,” Gale piped up as he made his way back to fire pit. “You wouldn’t happen to have any experience with hunting would you?”

Astarion’s face dropped, his eyes scanning over his comrades. “Why?”

“We’re a bit short on food. Not a lot of options to choose from here, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh,” he straightened himself. “Well yes, of course. I have been known to hunt. For sport.”

“Were you any good at it?” Shadowheart muttered under her breath.

“I don’t think it matters if I’m the only shot we have at killing something for food,” he sneered at her. “But if you must know, yes. I am quite good at it.”

“Then we just need to find a bow,” Ferelith concluded, crossing her arms. “And we could always grab the fishing poles from the docks when we go to search for more supplies. Let’s gather our things, then. The earlier we get started, the better.”

The party of four stood at the top of the hill looking down into the wreckage of the nautiloid. Most of the fires were out, but the coals were still hot and spitting smoke into the air. Ferelith scanned the area below, seeing broken chairs, burned steps, and a few carcasses, but nothing useful. There was a large doubt that there would be nothing worth using beneath the ash, but they would have to cross the debris, regardless. They descended into the mass of it, listening to the framework creak above them when the wind blew. It seemed just as empty and eerie as before.

“I don’t even know what to look for,” Ferelith said, kicking over burnt rubble on the ground.

“What’s that?” Gale said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder to alert her.

Ferelith looked up, and the other two had his attention as well. They stood quietly looking further back into the destruction of the ship. Ahead, there were three villagers digging at what seemed like a large heap that had fallen from the ship. They were covered in soot and ash like they had been sorting through it for awhile. One of them was yelling, commanding the others, frantically flailing his arms as he did. The elves squinted to focus, using their better sight to get a closer look.

“Is that-?” Astarion lowered his brow.

“Shit,” Ferelith pushed past Gale, marching toward the group of villagers.

“Somethings wrong,” Shadowheart said, realizing now what they saw by the flash of it’s gray skin. “They should be trying to get away if they had any sense.”

“Ferelith,” the wizard called after her. “Ferelith, we should be careful.”

She didn’t care. The rage inside her had already swarmed. Astarion was at her heels, Shadowheart close behind. Gale trailed them, treading carefully and observing more from a distance. As Ferelith got closer, the human man was sent into a full panic. There was a large cut on his hand from where he had carelessly moved the debris. He looked up to address them as the approached, but the others continued to dig. They scratched and clawed at the heap in front of them, as if their own lives were at stake. Beneath a very large piece of the ship was a mind flayer. Too weak to move. But not too weak to control them.

“Stop it,” Ferelith reached out to touch the back of a dwarf.

“My daughter!” the human man shouted at her, causing her to step back. “She’s under there. Please!”

“That’s not your daughter,” she snapped, wrinkles forming at her nose as she growled at him. “Step aside.”

“You… monster…” the look of pure horror on his face only made her fury worse.

She looked down, the creature- the mind flayer- its hold on them was too strong. It’s yellow eyes watched Ferelith, observing what she would do as if it were a test to her own nature. Something triggered a memory from the dark streets back in Baldur’s Gate. A hand outstretched, waving as this one did now. It created a cold feeling like ice covered fingers piercing her skull. And those yellow eyes were just the same as before, menacing and fierce. It reminded her of the screams from her patron inside. That he somehow had been affected. She tightened her fists. It was the very same being that had taken her.

“You’ll die for this,” she said lowly and she knew it understood.

“She’s already dying!” the man yelled and as he did, the other two fishermen began to rise to their feet. “You… you did this. You want to kill her!”

The three of them drew their weapons. But the commoners stood no chance. A blast of energy fired from the palm of Ferelith’s already charged hands into the man’s chin, sending him backwards across the wreckage. Shadowheart swung her mace, striking down a halfling who was ready to attack, but unable to defend. And Astarion had cut his blades across the dwarf, who gurgled helplessly to the floor. Gale crossed his arms with a disappointing sigh.

“I feel like this could have gone better,” he said solemnly shaking his head.

Ferelith stepped over the mound with the mind flayer beneath, her hand out and filled with more energy for another blast. However, a convulsion inside her caused her stop. Her hand came to her chest, and she slowly turned. The mind flayer was now curling it’s fingers towards her. She could feel her mind bending, twisting, melding with those who attacked her. She felt a moment of fear, just as they did. It wanted to use that fear to force her to attack her comrades. Except, this time was nothing like the attack in the alleyway. She was better prepared. Stronger. Determined. Her mind was a fortress and she pushed back the fear with all the anger inside her.

“There is no place for you here, you wretch.”

The tone she used caused Shadowheart to look at the others. Her voice held all the ferocity of something fowl. It came from a place they did understand. And how could they? Ferelith’s mind was home to something dark. And it was now empty, leaving a vacant space that this thing was trying to fill. This space was something she made specifically for someone else. Someone sacred. To try and take it left her violated.

Whatever it was Ferelith had done, it caused the mind flayer to shrink in it’s already shriveled state. Forgetting about the human behind her, she stepped onto the piece of the platform crushing the creature. The bond was severed and she could feel the others awakening. The dwarf was gone, but the other two were still with beating hearts. There was rustling behind her, causing her to turn with a readied spell.

“Wait!” the human sat up, his hand held out with a plea of mercy. “… where are we?”

She lowered her spell, but her guard was still firm. “You’re in the middle of a crashed ship.”

“Ship? I don’t… There was fire in the sky… and then…” he looked around, seeing the blood on the ground. “Oh Gods… Sonna… what happened to my friends?”

“This,” she pointed down below her feet. “You were protecting this.”

“Gods… I think you’re right,” he looked down at his own hands. “It called out from the wreckage. Sounded just like my daughter. But… she’s been dead for years. That thing got into our heads… drove us mad. We wrecked our boat just trying to get close to it. What do we do now?”

Gale watched as her shoulders hunched forward, her chin leaning out in a way the reminded him of a curious predator. There was a hint of something else when he watched her, like a brief flicker of a shadow, something like wavering smoke through a reflection of glass. Her anger had not subsided. And she was feeding off of it with every second.

“You?” she asked, her tone dropping and her voice quiet. “We don’t even know where we are. If it wasn’t for this abomination, we wouldn’t even be here.”

“You were in this thing?” his eyes widened. “To survive that only to land in this bloody wilderness. We’re in the middle of nowhere. The gods must have it out.”

Something shifted in Ferelith’s mind. The bond between them was not entirely broken. The man had felt it too. She spotted the realization the moment his face twisted. The fear had returned, but only by his own control.

“Wait… you… I can feel you,” he started to step backward. “Just like one of those things. You’re one of them!”

“What?” the growl in her voice returned. “I tried to save you. You attacked me.”

“There’s something in your head,” he shook his slowly. “Please… we’ll take our chances out here. Just… leave us be.”

The man went to leave, but she stopped him, stepping forward as her yellow eyes pierced his gaze. He flinched, catching his footing off balance. Ferelith took advantage and stepped over him as he crouched, cowering beneath her.

“The bow,” she said, holding our her hand.

“What?” he stammered, terrified to look up at her.

“Give me the bow. Take your friend. And run.”

The human looked at the weapon clutched tightly in his hand then back to Ferelith. He cast it down, scrambling to the halfling’s side as he struggled to throw her over his shoulder. The group of them watched him half carry, half drag her out, stopping only once he was a good hundred feet away to completely lift her into his arms. Ferelith bent over, snatching the bow from the ground, and tossed it to Astarion.

“Simpletons,” he said catching it effortlessly in one hand. “The beast is half dead and they still bowed to its whims.”

Ferelith said not a word as she looked over to the dwarf’s body. A crossbow lay at his un-moving fingertips. She reached down, taking it from his dead hands and began to storm back toward the squirming mind flayer. She rounded the rubble, standing directly in front of it. She wanted to see the fear in it’s eyes. And for a moment… she did. Then, she felt the swirling wield of pity. This helpless thing was reaching out for her, pleading with the entirety of it’s thoughts. She felt compelled to come to its aid with a sudden surge of compassion.

That surge was quickly squashed as a dark shadow swarmed her mind again. It clouded her thoughts. It struck down any empathy she might have felt. And replaced it with hate. The shadow rippled, revealing another grasp of icy fingers, bending her will to bring her to her knees with guilt. Ferelith fought it. She refused to give in to the mind meld, refused to be its thrall. The harder she fought, the weaker it became. Until eventually it’s clutch loosened and she felt it slip away. It’s eyes flashed once more, an indication that if this creature could display any emotions, it would be that of bitter resentment. Her hand grasped the base of the crossbow.

“Have you used one of those before?” Shadowheart asked.

Ferelith ignored her.

“Are you sure you-” Astarion began.

The bolt released with a pull of the trigger. It violently split the mind flayer’s face in two, digging into the ground and splattering blood up Ferelith’s body. The sound of impact made the others jump, not expecting such a loud and hasty action from her petite hands. She pressed her foot down on the remainder of its skull, pulling her arrow up from the dirt and reloading the chamber. She turned to her companions, filled with awe and struck cold during her display of rage.

“You’ve… got…” Gale pointed to his face.

Ferelith lifted the back of her hand, wiping the blood on her face. Some of it came off on her glove, but most just smeared across her cheek. She looked down at the back of her hand, examining the dark blood. It brought her thoughts to the tadpole. About how it had twisted in her head the more the mind flayer pulled. It was able to connect to the creature while her mind remained free. Perhaps that was the reason why she- why they were alive. The worm may not have had the ability to connect to their minds because there was already something there, something already bound to that space. The only reasoning Ferelith would have was her patron. As for the others, she didn’t know enough to create a strong theory. It all seemed too far fetched and coincidental.

“Let’s go,” she said, walking back over to the dwarf to rip off the holster.

His body made a loud thud, causing Gale to grimace and Astarion to chuckle as they followed behind her. The three trailing behind her remained silent. And a good distance away. None of them were brave enough to address the temper they had witnessed. Or that it was completely uncalled for. Astarion, specifically, seemed restless. Although he was the furthest behind, his eyes kept wandering to the back of her head. If he could just have one more peek into her memories of the night she was taken, he could have a bit more insight on what to expect. It wouldn’t put him at any sort of ease, but it would at least prepare him for… whatever it was that he just saw.

“Ferelith,” Gale said, trotting behind her when he had held his silence for too long. “I feel like we should talk about-”

“No.”

“You don’t think we should discuss what just happened?”

“Not at all.”

“Really? Because I think you just-”

“Gale,” she turned to face him, her face finally softened. “I don’t believe now is the time. If there’s something that needs to be discussed, can we wait until we camp?”

“Of course,” he nodded, but his eyes were still filled with concern. “I just need to know if you’re alright.”

Ferelith lowered her brow in confusion, her eyes shooting down with the understanding that this was the first time her comrades had witnessed her true nature. They had seen the shadow. Which only meant that if they could see it, must have meant her patron had returned. The voice still had not made itself known, however. And his presence was just a faint blip in the corner of her head. But something had drawn him out. The same thing that had drawn him to her. The rage. How typical.

“I’m fine,” she smiled at the thought. “Honestly, I’m sorry. I must have gotten carried away.”

Her eyes looked back over the others looking for the reactions but found they were all generally uninterested. It was quite the relief and surprise, as most who caught the first glimpse of her in that state would question her stability. It seemed her silence of the matter was welcomed.

“It’s quite alright,” Shadowheart shrugged. “If you weren’t going to do it, I was. I’m just glad you were capable.”

“And you’ve managed to secure not one, but two long ranged weapons,” Astarion pointed out from the back. “With an impressive display of intimidation.”

“Yes,” Gale tilted his shoulder upward. “That was quite the show. A lot of pent up anger, I’d say.”

“Well, it didn’t take much,” her eyes shifted. “It could be from a lack of food this morning. I’d like to get to that temple and see what sort of luxurious these bandits have been living in.”

“Do you think they’ll have wine?” the wizard jested beside her.

“Gods, I hope so.”

Ferelith, Shadowheart, and Gale sat against a large boulder, their backs pressed firmly against it. They glanced at one another, unable to speak lest they alarm their targets. Words were shared between facial expressions, however, and if there was anything they currently agreed upon, it was that they were tired of waiting. They had wasted enough time back at the wreckage and they wanted to at least scout the temple before nightfall. Astarion was not hastening their progress, however. And the moment he reappeared to bring them news, they all looked at him in frustration.

“Well?” Shadowheart lowered her brow.

“Two tieflings have someone captured,” he said, glancing over the rock in their direction.

“Do they look like bandits?” Ferelith questioned.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” her brow lowered as well.

Astarion turned his head to the two scowling women. “They looked like tieflings.”

Ferelith rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. “For complete wilderness we seem to be running into a lot of people.”

“The crash must have brought them all out,” Gale suggested.

“We can either go on, see what they’re about, or go back and around. Maybe there’s another way?” she looked to the cleric.

“Not a chance. We’ll push through here.”

“I agree,” Gale nodded. “Let’s go.”

The four of them lifted onto their feet, pacing around the rock and onto the trail in front of the clearing. It was a small ravine covered in rocks, a natural bridge hanging above them. Wrapped around it was a solid rope with a cage dangling from it, a clever and sturdy trap if they had ever seen one. Contained within it was a woman with yellowish green skin, adorned in gleaming silver armor and brandishing a frown of disgust. Her arms were crossed as she awaited her fate. And as Ferelith looked upon her, she recognized the woman as the very same from the ship.

“The thing’s dangerous,” one of the tieflings pleaded. “Leave it for the goblins to kill.”

“And if it escapes?” the other argued. “How will you- oh! We gave guests, it seems.”

“We’re just passing-” Gale began to speak to them as they grew near, but Ferelith became distracted by the pounding cold wave in her head.

She looked up, meeting the gaze of the gith in the cage. Her stare was focused as if she were sending shards of thoughts straight into her brain.

“You again... Get rid of them.”

Ferelith gave a slight wink to her the gith woman without realizing she had no inclination of what the gesture meant. She turned back to the tieflings, indulging in the conversation they were having with Gale. He began to describe their journey from the ship and how they had been stranded in the wild. They began to mention an encampment, somewhere there would be more supplies. But the woman was growing impatient. And Ferelith could feel her poking to get back into her head.

“Is this one of the gith that was attacking the ship?” Ferelith inquired, glancing back up to her former companion.

“We’re… we’re not sure,” they glanced at one another. “We were sent out to investigate that blast. And we found her here.”

“There might be more of them. And I’ve seen what they can do,” her fingers began to twitch as she began to consider a spell, but dropped them when it was not needed. “They’re fierce fighters. What do you intend to do with her?”

“We can’t seem to agree on that,” the male said, his eyes glancing up to his current problem.

“You could leave it to us,” Ferelith motioned to their party. “I believe we could handle her. We’ve fought through the ship to survive, after all.”

The woman rolled her eyes from above. Ferelith could still feel her intense stare, growing with intensity the longer the conversation went on.

“Are you sure?”the male tiefling lowered his brow.

“No,” Ferelith shook her head with a slight chuckle. “But I’m afraid we stand a better chance than two of you.”

The tieflings had a moment of hesitation, looking at one another. There was a sigh as there clearly was no correct course of action. Either the gith had to die or they had to leave it. Something about leaving the matter in strange hands was far more appealing than making the decision themselves.

“She’s right,” he finally said with a nod to his companion. “Let’s go.”

“Be careful out here. There’s goblin traps everywhere,” the tiefling woman said. “Perhaps we’ll see you back at camp.”

As they walked away, they both gave one final glance over their shoulder. Like two very suspicious individuals, Gale and Ferelith waved until they disappeared beyond the other side of the ravine.

“Is there a reason we’re dismissing the tieflings to deal with a githyanki?” Gale asked, leaning toward her as soon as they were out of ear shot.

“She helped me on the ship,” Ferelith replied quietly. “We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“What do you mean?” he looked at her curiously.

“We fought on the bridge together.”

“You were the one that sent us through the portal?”

“Yes. I. Am,” she nodded proudly.

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get her down then,” he stated nonchalantly.

They made their way over to the cage, looking up. Though the engineering put into the contraption was impressive, the make of it was still rather crude. It would be easy to take it down.

“Enough gawking,” she narrowed her eyes. “Get me down.”

“Say please,” Ferelith grinned.

The gith stepped away from the bars that surrounded her, crossing her arms with a spiteful gaze. “Never.”

Ferelith turned to the other members of her party, two of them humored by her sarcasm while Gale stared like a chiding parent. The warlock shrugged, taking the crossbow from her holster and carelessly aiming it upward. With barely a glance, she fired the bolt and down came the bottom of the trap. The gith woman tumbled out, catching herself on one knee as she slammed onto the earth.

“The tadpole hasn’t yet scrambled your senses,” she grumbled, rising to her feet. “Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people posses the cure for this infection. I must find a creche. You will join me.”

“Lies,” Shadowheart spat, coming forward without waiting for a response from anyone else. “Just get rid of her.”

“Hold on,” Ferelith held out her hand. “I didn’t kill Astarion when he tried to stab me, so I’m certainly not killing anyone for simply just existing.”

“He what?” Gale turned to glare at the rogue.

“Let’s not dwell on the past,” he said quietly while quickly shaking his head with a robust frown.

“I think we should consider this as an option,” she continued over their squabble. “What little options we have. Lae’zel, what is a creche?”

“It is many things: a hatchery, a training ground, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear: when infected with ghaik tadpole, we must report to a caretaker for purification.”

“I don’t trust her,” Shadowheart stated. “We’ve already got information on the camp the tieflings mentioned.”

“This camp,” the gith straightened herself. “That is where this Zorru is. He has seen my kin. We will go.”

“Then we can all go together.” Ferelith interrupted.

“A questioning compromise, but I accept,” she pressed her shoulders back with an observing eye. “You have made an ally from Creche K’lir. Few know such fortune. Call me Lae’zel.”

“Fool,” Shadowheart interrupted before Ferelith could speak. “No point in showing a mad dog kindness – it’ll still bite you in the end.”

“You’ve a sharp tongue, elf. Would that your mind prove its equal.”

“Half elf. I suppose the finer details are lost on a creature like you.”

“Right,” Ferelith sighed, her eyes gliding across the ground wondering what exactly she had done to deserve the cruel fate she was handed. “Now that we’re all acquainted… I believe now would be a great time to re-establish a better plan of action.”

“We’ll be here all night,” Gale mumbled to her, leaning forward in an attempt to intervene.

“Then perhaps… we should just head back to camp. And we can find supplies… and that wine… in the morning.”

#astarion #astarion x mc #medium burn #angst #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x ferelith #ferelith #ferelith moonshade #ferelith writing tag #dwjp writing tag #this one is about anger folks

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