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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 19 days

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Fic Prompt #3

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters: Dame Aylin/Isobel Thorm, Shar; also features Selûne, and Balthazar, that wretched walking content warning Length: ~4000 words Summary: Aylin prays in the Shadowfell, to a mother who can't hear her - and an aunt who can.

What can silence the Nightsong? @stachless prompted "nightmare" and also drew [this art]. Brainworms heavily inspired by @featherwurm's [art] and its followup [here]. Also inspired by a bunch of Aylin's Shadowfell dialogue, the extremity of what she went through, her mother, and the Jesus-Christ-Superstar-Gethsemane of it all. Then we have my own need to see her cherished and taken care of and protected, along with a bit of weird fascination with how the Calm Emotions spell is actually supposed to work.

Hurt/comfort. Warnings for canon-typical violence and references to torture.

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Once, there would have been a steady hum, a warmth blooming eternal in her chest. An undeniable, reassuring presence, like a hand on her shoulder, and a loving murmur in her ear as if her Mother were there, but only just out of sight. Now there is nothing.

There is worse than nothing; there is a tug, a pull, a leeching so unnatural and wrong it makes bile rise in Aylin's throat. Makes her first steps into a stumble, as she pulls herself to her feet from where the latest Sharran had felled her, leading her so close to the bounds of her enclosure that the sickly glow of the grasping claws starts to manifest.

So instead she kneels, as she has done countless times before: in magnificent temples and humble shrines, in muddy battlefields before and after skirmishes, in winter storms and in bright summer showers. Privately, or as one in a crowd of worshippers. Or, a traitorous little shard of her heart pipes up, with Isobel, whose devotion was always catching like the most pleasant of flames.

"Moonmaiden, hear me," once she finally speaks, Aylin's voice is strong to her own ears, rising clear and resonant from the depths of her chest, unhampered by her predicament or by the bitter sting of grief. It is a bracing thing to note, and it makes it easier to straighten her shoulders and persist.

The odious essence that permeates the Shadowfell makes calm, comfortable meditation a distant dream, but Aylin does her utmost to shake off the worst of it. She chooses instead to focus on going through all the well-practised, familiar, reassuring motions. Hands open, relaxed, palms resting on her thighs, eyes closed but not clenched shut, chin upturned slightly, waiting for the light of an absent moon.

"Weaver of the silver loom, look upon me with mercy and pluck the threads of my fate to lead them away from this place, away from this dungeon of loss and dark and grief."

It is easy, natural, to intone the words, even as the recitation feels slightly more formal than Aylin is used to. The conspicuous absence surrounding her and blanketing her heart does nothing to deter her.

"Guide me out of the grasp of shadow. Turn the tides, so that I may vanquish Your enemies once more and shield Your faithful from the darkness in turn, under Your watchful eye."

Ketheric will bleed, a Sharran plot that was allowed to fester and grow much too far will finally be thwarted, and Reithwin salvaged, recovered, a haven for those basking in the light of the moon once more.

Surely, whatever time Aylin has spent here… surely it is enough.

Her only answer is a coward's blow; a would-be justiciar who has snuck down to her prison oh-so-quietly, who has chosen to anoint herself with the blood of an unarmed, unaware opponent knelt in prayer.

In the rush of her own lifeblood Aylin could swear she hears laughter.

"Hear me. Moonmaiden," the words are ground out this time, slowly and painstakingly. "Our Lady of Silver. Shine Your gleaming light upon me, dispel the grip of shadow and pain, bolster my heart with Your radiance…"

There is an arrow lodged in her flank, and another one near her shoulder blade, still burning with the telltale traces of poison. This one wanted to make sure - a good Sharran: thorough, prepared. Lurking in the shadows and well out of reach, even for this. Truly meant for his mistress' embrace.

"I, whose hand has ever borne Your sword against wickedness gladly and with pride…"

The third in what can't have been more than, what, a day? But how to tell, when her own body falling and rising is the only thing she can rely on to try to gauge the passage of time? In any case, Ketheric is ramping up the production of his army, that much is clear.

So much of Reithwin has paraded before her eyes. People she had lived beside, even if for a little while, coming here to kill her. Some of them acknowledge the fact, even - let her know they never trusted her, sneer about their welcome and respect being but pretence, or forced by fear of divine retribution. Others avert their eyes and pretend they weren't the ones to help her pick out flowers for a bouquet to gift Isobel early in their courtship, just as they weren't the ones to help with the delicate petal-cups of the moonflower arrangements for her funeral.

If she thinks of what has happened, what must be happening to the ones who she hasn't faced here, the rage mixed with the bitter bite of failure threatens to overwhelm her utterly. They were hers to protect. Just as Isobel was.

She can't reach the accursed arrow in her back to pull it out. The sting mounts and mounts and meets the agony driven deep in her heart.

"Moonmaiden, hear me. As You guide the lost back onto their paths, as You set before our feet roads out of darkness, I pray. For my path is winding, never-ending, yet I have ever heeded--"

How much more? How much, how much, howmuch…

The spear to the heart she would have taken for one of the quick and merciful ones - but no. Because the Sharran misses, curse them, and then stops to deliver a tirade - before being swallowed by vicious, hungry shadows.

"The tides turn, inexorably," she mutters, half-dazed with blood loss, stumbling to her knees. "The tides, they… in Your strength, as all things, they…"

Aylin's head lolls forward, proud chin meeting chest, prayer cut short. "Enough. It is enough. I have borne--" What, she cannot say. Penance? Some crucial holy burden? Instead, she ekes out syllables around the agony in her chest, where the spear is still lodged. The spear left in her in disgust, once the acolyte realised it was a mere inert replica of the artefact they sought, incapable of delivering true death, of elevating them beyond a mere ordained assassin. Before their own fate was sealed so very efficiently.

One does not become the Chosen of a goddess by choosing themselves, after all.

"Please."

In the silence, she scrabbles with bloody hands and pulls the spear out herself, inch by painfully slow inch. Throws it into the abyss with a roar of fury and disgust, for she has no use for a weapon here. She cannot fight and tear and kill her way to freedom, a sword that cannot cut itself free. The best she could achieve by destroying her captors here and now would be oblivion, to be forgotten here.

Lost.

"Mother," she whispers, and feels burning shame at prayer being reduced to pleading. "Mother, please."

Nothing.

The necromancer visits again, when she is barely recovered from the last freshly-made justiciar, still catching her breath and clutching at newly-unshattered ribs.

Aylin has goaded him before. Barked out whatever insult came to mind, every threat and vow of vengeance most bloody on both him and his coward of a general, who so adamantly refuses to come face her. But this time - she will find she cannot remember, after, what it was she said that led to this - if she even said anything.

But whatever she does or mutters or simply is right then crosses some threshold, unfathomable to her. Something that permits such aimless, gratuitous cruelty, justifies it in the mind of the truly monstrous.

Balthazar is uncharacteristically silent, the usual sick gloating absent, when he gestures for the hands to pull her to her knees, to hold her in place; when they grip her neck and claw her head back and rip her jaw open against all her mighty strain, as if she is not even trying to resist. When she tastes the rust of the blade and then the rust of her own blood.

Her mouth burns, jaw and chin and palate aflame, agony spreading from the carelessly cut lip down to her throat. She spits blood, and blood, and blood, but it will not stop, and it chokes her. Dizzying, mortifying. Hunched over after she is released, one hand clenched in the dirt of her rocky prison, barely holding her up, the other scrabbling at her neck.

She cannot speak aloud the words that old and young, great and small throughout Faerûn know will bring the Moonmaiden's keen-eyed, loving gaze to them. But then, she has never really needed to. Selûne has ever kept watch over Her daughter, Her sword.

Mother. Aylin tries to think, upwards, upwards, imagining flying up to pierce the shadowy dome. Mother, hear me, when they would silence me.

Nothing.

Balthazar shuffles into her blurred view, doing something with a jar, and silver-flecked muscle and--

And what will he do with it? What does he do with all else he steals from her? It is a horror she does not want to contemplate.

Her tongue, made for poetry, made for battle cries and striking fear into the unworthy and the wicked, into the scheming and the twisted. Made for jubilation and proclamation, made for testifying the glory of her Mother and the good, righteous cause she championed so gladly. Made to argue and philosophise. Made for joy and pleasure taken in the mortal and worldly and wondrously, preciously, divinely mundane: tasting fine wine and succulent food and the sweetest of lips and the softest of skin and most cherished of flesh, all hers, once, all of it -- all of it taken, gone.

Lost.

Instead, violation and violence. A cut throat, and spilt guts. And here comes one with a cruel mace - atypical, for Sharran clergy. She would laugh at herself, a half-mad thing, at the spark of absurd, sick excitement at being murdered slightly unusually - but what else is there? What is there, here, in the void?

Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. Pain, or nothing.

Her.

Aylin does not attempt to pray when she next rises. She screams curses and barely-coherent tirades against her hated, hateful aunt, if only for there to be something, anything else.

"Silence," comes that rarely-heard voice. Despised, yet known. "My sister spawned a rabid dog, it seems."

A gleam of feeble triumph warms Aylin's heart. A response provoked. A goddess' hand forced, even if in a matter so very small. She stands, as tall and proud as she can in bloodied rags. "I was chosen to bear her light, to be her sword, to champion her cause--"

"She did not choose you," the voice cuts her off, growing louder and closer, echoing in the endless chasm of its domain, surrounding. "She made you. And what a pitiful job she did of it, too." The disdain is palpable, radiating out of every wisp of shadow swirling around the lonesome platform. "She whelped you to hunt down my faithful."

"She charged me with protecting her own." Aylin glares into the darkness, turning this way and that, trying to fathom where to best aim her fury from her perch in the eye of a growing storm.

"She who seeks always to steal from me, to supplant me, she who knows no measure, whose ambitions know no end."

The raging shadows swirl ever closer, angrier and angrier still. But Aylin refuses to be cowed, refuses to yield, faced with the one who gives her purpose. For the Sword of the Silverlight is a necessity, yes, but it is not Selûne who makes it so. It is her spiteful sister and her misguided followers, ever prowling and looking to harm.

"You lie, as always, Lady of Loss. She wishes only for peace, for her faithful to be left to make their own way, to flourish. Without your schemes, there would be no need for my service at all."

A clap of thunder behind her; Aylin turns, but not in time to see the grasping shadows that rush towards her, wind around her legs and arms, around her neck and chest. Restraints nothing like the eerie, necrotic claws, but just as cold and cruel and unmoveable.

"Ah, so my sister needs to bind her paladins with chains of bloodline to ensure they serve her?" The voice is mocking, and so very, very near. As if Shar herself is standing there, speaking in Aylin's ear as her shadows mercilessly pull her down. "Perhaps, for once, she is right. For I have claimed a prize from her already, and he has brought me you."

"I am not bound," Aylin spits out, pulling against her fetters, grinding her knuckles to dust and bone on the cold stone of her prison. "I am not bound. I choose, I serve, I am faithful--"

"You are a failure."

"I am-- I am Dame Aylin Silverblood, Sword of the Moonmaiden, Moon Daughter, Bearer of the Silverlight. When I am free, there will be a mighty reckoning. I will bring it on wings of silver, on the edge of my blessèd sword, in the name of my Mother, and in my own name."

"You are a failure," the darkness repeats, unphased, calm, certain, factual, "and so you have been discarded."

"I am," Aylin starts, barely forces out, then stops, gritting her teeth against the burning pressure, the rancid atmosphere cloaking her prison. "I am--"

"I am the Nightsinger and you are my Nightsong, and so it is mine to silence you."

The darkness becomes tangible, cloying, suffocating. Aylin tries to draw breath but finds that she cannot. Cannot see through the thickening murk even to the sickly blazing runes of her prison-circle.

"The moon does not shine its foul light here, and it never will. Here, in my perfect dark, we are gloriously free of it. Howl your foolish prayer-ditties, Nightsong - they will fall upon no ears. Your ever-whimsical, capricious mother has abandoned you to my care."

The shadows tighten and Aylin chokes on darkness like she choked on blood. Her back burns with phantom pains, spiking up and down her shoulder blades, and every wound and indignity feels visited upon her again. A scream feels like it should tear itself from her throat, but there is only silence.

"In the creation of my army, I have given you purpose. Much more than my pathetic sister ever has. And once that purpose is fulfilled, I will silence you forever."

She finds herself sprawled on the ground, suddenly free of the restraints, as the final, threatening proclamation rattles through her muscle, deep into her bones.

"The loss of a daughter," Shar sounds amused, almost, a cruel smile tainting her words, "is devastating, I hear. It will make a fine gift for my deserving kin. Now rise. One approaches who must prove their worth."

Aylin's mind is flooded with Isobel, Isobel, Isobel, and her chest feels like it will cave in on itself.

The air rushes in, finally, and Aylin tastes blood in her mouth from a bitten cheek, feels a pounding in her head - and very little else. A cool balm, a much-needed distance has been put between her and the red-hot thornvine of the past century, and it allows her to breathe.

She blinks, and knelt before her is Isobel, alive and whole, in a simple nightgown, hands aglow with the remnants of a freshly cast spell.

"Aylin?" She asks, cautiously, with the telltale downturn of the corner of her mouth that means she is concentrating. Her eyes are wide and filled to the brim with such tender concern, the restrained but clearly pained tremble in her voice more agonising than any Sharran knife. She keeps her distance, though the tension and the need to leap forward, to be close, to hold, is palpable.

"You were… I tried to wake you, but you weren't responding. It was like you were lost to me."

Lost.

"I am…"

Aylin stops, because she does not know what words could follow and not be lies.

"This will only last a minute. Please, stay with me, Aylin. Alright?"

Aylin nods.

"Breathe with me."

Aylin does.

"May I touch you?"

Aylin hesitates, where she should have roared her enthusiastic consent. But her entire body still feels raw.

"...yes," she says only when she truly feels it to be true, and Isobel seems… proud?

The lightest, gentlest hand comes to rest on her cheek and jaw. Familiar, loved, ever so slightly colder than… than before. Isobel.

She would have nuzzled into it happily, usually, pressed a kiss or two to the soft palm. It is a bit much at the moment, though, just that little bit too close, and so Aylin slowly pries it off her cheek and holds the hand between both her own instead.

Then the minute is up and the spell wears off, and the veil that was between her and what seems like the rest of the world abruptly falls away. Aylin draws air in with mounting effort, then lets it out in a hiss at the flood of sensation.

But the hand between hers serves to ground; Isobel's eyes, luminous in the moonlight that seeps into the room, hold her own and seem to encompass her entire.

"Should I cast it again?" Isobel asks softly, free hand already rising towards Aylin's temple.

She moves to decline, muster up some sort of casual air, but stops herself at the last moment. Digs down to the soldierly disposition that has been a help to her, an ingrained way to make sense of so much. It does no good to overestimate one's own capability. Her mind rattles off, almost of its own accord. A correct measure of one's strength is key to all engagements.

"Once-- once more, please, my love," Aylin asks, and is mildly surprised at the complete lack of shame and nauseating sense of inadequacy that had, for a time, become her stalwart companions.

"As many times as you need," Isobel says reassuringly, already leaning forward and reaching out with both hands. "There is no shame in accepting help."

It is a song and dance they both know well by now. The words Isobel has spoken what must be hundreds of times, in an effort to make them real and true to Aylin.

Her touch on what feels like the sides of Aylin's troubled mind accompanied by a murmured incantation take all of a second, but the coolness and numbness and the slight drowsiness ripple outward and encompass her again. The separation from herself, the distance from everything, is always mildly discomfiting and ever-so-slightly reminiscent of the Shadowfell - a reassuring fact, as Aylin takes it to mean she is in no danger of craving it, or growing to depend on it.

It is but a moment of reprieve each time. But it is just enough to buy her a chance to shore up her own defences, when they have been so cruelly torn down by the workings of her own unconscious mind. She places her hands over Isobel's own once again, breathes in time with her, and thinks, very deliberately, of little else.

This time, when the minute runs out, the shock of being plunged back into the world is barely noticeable.

There is no brand-wound placed on her by Shar, like brave Shadowheart still bears. And yet it still feels so often like her aunt's cruel grasp is lying in wait behind every shadow, waiting to snatch her up and pull her down, down, down, until her knees meet the cold rune-inscribed rock in the heart of the Shadowfell.

It makes Aylin still want to laugh at herself, sometimes. Her knees are, in fact, resting on the finest mattress of the grandest bed Waterdeep's House of the Moon could provide. Her legs are entangled with duvets filled with the softest down, with sheets of finest silk. And yet, and yet.

But she does not let out any bark of bitter, self-deprecating laugh, for even after everything, there is Isobel. The anchor. The crux of everything. The eye of a swirling storm. A beacon of light so blessedly blinding it washes out all else, all pain and sorrow and acrid, biting memory.

Isobel, whose mere presence drowns out the roaring winds of the Shadowfell, fills up the Lady of Loss' cursed silence that steals and numbs everything it touches.

Isobel, something to focus on when all else is too much, or too little. Who scuttles closer to Aylin on the bed once she sees her calmed enough, and leans in until they are pressed shoulder to shoulder.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Her thumb rubs small, delicate circles into the back of Aylin's hand.

Aylin sighs. "I cannot possibly begin to explain… to put into words…"

"Could you try? For me, my love, and for yourself?"

The only thing silencing Aylin now is she herself.

Truth and honesty, ideals to strive for - and the light that chases away any Sharran shadow. Aylin draws in a deep breath, as much as her chest that still feels cramped will allow. Squares her shoulders as if preparing for combat.

And still her words come out hesitant, almost meek. "I would not have wanted you to bear witness, then. To… to their crimes, their sins against me. To my shame. And so I do not want to make you a witness to them now, even if it is only through my telling."

She feels reluctant to expose Isobel to any of it. Even when, yes, she is an accomplished cleric and a healer and has seen and dealt with her own share of horrors, but…

"Aylin," the palpable pain in Isobel's wide eyes is already too much as she reaches out a gentle hand again, turning Aylin's face towards her. "You are the woman I love, and the chosen of my heart. Nothing will ever change that."

"It has been nigh a year." Aylin knows she sounds petulant. Knows she would have thoughtlessly blinked away the meagre span of a single year, before.

"Compared to a hundred?" Isobel shakes her head, looks at her almost pleadingly. That way she does, the way she seems to have reserved for whenever Aylin insists she should think nothing of the way she hastily exited a too-tight or too-dark space.

"Fine. Fine, my love, for you," Aylin breathes out. "But… outside. Let us first recover somewhat, in my Mother's light."

Let Her hear as well.

Isobel rises, takes her by the hand, and pulls her along, gently, out onto the balcony. Theirs is a spacious, luxurious suite situated in the prime spot of the temple complex housing wing, overlooking the luscious inner gardens in the House of the Moon. Usually, neither of them care for the pomp and circumstance their visits tend to invite in Selûnite spaces. But this time Aylin feels grateful for both the privacy and the position under the moonlight dome, as she does little but breathe in the scent of the moonflowers, freshly opened for the night, each cupping a little mote of moonlight and embracing it in blue.

For a good while, until Aylin feels ready, Isobel chatters, hums, softly fills any second of silence. She has come to understand so much, and Aylin is so grateful as she lets the sweet voice buoy her heart, carry her.

It felt near-blasphemous, at first, these calls to a goddess over things she would have once called trivial. But the joint efforts of her Mother and her beloved have convinced her they are anything but.

Mother? Aylin sends out the simplest of thoughts as she gazes upward and feels the moonlight bathe her face, fill her heart to bursting, settle around her shoulders like a blanket.

I hear you, daughter. I see you. I hold you under my gaze, safe.

This, too, is her birthright. Simple reassurance.

Under her Mother's silver eye, guarded in the circle of Isobel's arms, Aylin speaks. Once her words run dry and she is left feeling drained, scoured out, head dizzyingly feather-light, Isobel finally moves from her side. She returns within moments, wraps herself around Aylin and wraps them both in a star-embroidered coverlet.

"Never again," Isobel whispers, all moon-bathed steel, as she presses a dozen soft kisses to Aylin's face, then holds her to her chest. "I will not let anyone harm you again."

It is a heartwarming, if impossible thought. Aylin doesn't have it in herself to do anything but believe it.

The moon continues on her path across the sky, her Tears shining bright, as the night descends into a silence that is both warm and comfortable.

#dame aylin #isobel thorm #aylin x isobel #baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #my fic #bg3 #oathkeeper writes things #fic prompts 2024 #sipping that hurt/comfort juice

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 7 months

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Hezekiah’s Sickness and Recovery

1 In those days Hezekiah became sick and was at the point of death. And Isaiah the prophet the son of Amoz came to him, and said to him, “Thus says the LORD: Set your house in order, for you shall die, you shall not recover.” 2 Then Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the LORD, 3 and said, “Please, O LORD, remember how I have walked before you in faithfulness and with a whole heart, and have done what is good in your sight.” And Hezekiah wept bitterly.

4 Then the word of the LORD came to Isaiah: 5 “Go and say to Hezekiah, Thus says the LORD, the God of David your father: I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will add fifteen years to your life. 6 I will deliver you and this city out of the hand of the king of Assyria, and will defend this city.

7 “This shall be the sign to you from the LORD, that the LORD will do this thing that he has promised: 8 Behold, I will make the shadow cast by the declining sun on the dial of Ahaz turn back ten steps.” So the sun turned back on the dial the ten steps by which it had declined.

9 A writing of Hezekiah king of Judah, after he had been sick and had recovered from his sickness:

10 I said, In the middle of my days I must depart; I am consigned to the gates of Sheol for the rest of my years.

11 I said, I shall not see the LORD, the LORD in the land of the living; I shall look on man no more among the inhabitants of the world.

12 My dwelling is plucked up and removed from me like a shepherd’s tent; like a weaver I have rolled up my life; he cuts me off from the loom; from day to night you bring me to an end;

13 I calmed myself until morning; like a lion he breaks all my bones; from day to night you bring me to an end.

14 Like a swallow or a crane I chirp; I moan like a dove. My eyes are weary with looking upward. O Lord, I am oppressed; be my pledge of safety!

15 What shall I say? For he has spoken to me, and he himself has done it. I walk slowly all my years because of the bitterness of my soul.

16 O Lord, by these things men live, and in all these is the life of my spirit. Oh restore me to health and make me live!

17 Behold, it was for my welfare that I had great bitterness; but in love you have delivered my life from the pit of destruction, for you have cast all my sins behind your back.

18 For Sheol does not thank you; death does not praise you; those who go down to the pit do not hope for your faithfulness.

19 The living, the living, he thanks you, as I do this day; the father makes known to the children your faithfulness.

20 The LORD will save me, and we will play my music on stringed instruments all the days of our lives, at the house of the LORD.

21 Now Isaiah had said, “Let them take a cake of figs and apply it to the boil, that he may recover.” 22 Hezekiah also had said, “What is the sign that I shall go up to the house of the LORD?” — Isaiah 38 | English Standard Version (ESV) The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Cross References: Numbers 16:33; Deuteronomy 6:7; Deuteronomy 6:18; Joshua 10:12-13; Judges 6:17; 2 Samuel 12:22; 1 Kings 21:27; 2 Kings 18:12-13; 2 Kings 20:7-8; Job 10:16; Job 33:24; Psalm 27:13; Psalm 33:1; Isaiah 31:5; Isaiah 39:1; 2 Corinthians 1:9; 2 Corinthians 5:1; Hebrews 7:22; Hebrews 12:9

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sebstanaddict · 1 year

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The Distance

Bucky Barnes x OC Story

Summary : A space adventure where we follow Bucky Barnes around the universe as he struggles to reclaim the love of his life amidst the backdrop of war between humans and the Kree race.

Bucky and Adriana successfully escaped from Zogg-Larn and Adriana takes them to a planet Bucky didn't expect. He has high hopes that he will be able to win Adriana's heart back in the beautiful planet, but his hopes are squashed as Adriana still holds a grudge against him. Will he be able to change Adriana's heart and make her love him again?

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x Adriana Weaver (OC)

Chapters: 13 / 20 (might add more as I write)

Chapter List >

Warning : angst, grief, slow burn, sexual references

Word count : 9,8k

This is a sequel to my first Bucky fic, New Beginning. Check it out here.

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Torfa, Outskirts of Greater Magellanic Cloud - May 2025

Zogg-Larn veered his ship to the right trying to avoid the shots that were coming his way from a mysterious red ship. He glanced back and felt like he had seen the ship before, a long time ago. But it couldn't be. The owner of the ship was supposed to be dead.

He didn't have time to think much about the red ship. He couldn't let James Barnes get away again. He already lost all his men trying to kill him. He wasn't about to let their loss be for nothing.

He looked to the front and sped up towards the ship James Barnes and a female Torfan was on. He set his ship's missile to target them and launched it. His heart dropped to his stomach as he saw them going to warp, but his missile succeeded in hitting their tail before they went fully into warp. Hopefully it would hinder them from going too far.

Zogg-Larn started to set his ship into warp too and set it to chase James' ship, which he could still see on his radar due to the beacon on the ship. But suddenly his ship shook when the red ship successfully hit his ship's right wing. In a split second he made the decision to go back to Hala. He couldn't chase James Barnes with his ship damaged. He also needed to gather some more Kree to help him. So with a quick push of a button his ship went into warp and headed back to Hala.

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Yahiri, Reina Star System - May 2025

Bucky was jerked back on his seat as the ship went out of warp and slowed down. He looked to the front and in the distance he could see a blue orb, a blue planet with two moons orbiting around it.

"Where are we?" Bucky turned to Adriana.

"Welcome to Yahiri." Adriana replied as she continued to steer the ship closer to Yahiri's surface. The fact that their ship's tail had been hit by the missile Zogg-Larn launched at them thankfully didn't affect the ship much. It could still function normally and didn't seem to pose any threat to them.

"Yahiri?" Bucky pondered.

"Yes. Yon-Rogg was planning on taking me here for our.. honeymoon.." Adriana replied with sadness in her voice.

Bucky's heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to her. His heart ached that Adriana still thought about Yon-Rogg. But it ached even more as he thought of how stupid he was for killing Yon-Rogg. He was, as usual, overcame with anger at Yon-Rogg and didn't think much except eliminating him as his Winter Soldier programming automatically ran his mind. Yon-Rogg did attack him first though. It wasn't like he had a choice. But you could'vespared his life and just hurt him without killing him. Another side of him argued. He sighed and shook his head. There was nothing he could do now. He just had to accept that he did, yet again, hurt Adriana by killing someone dear to her. Granted, she was manipulated by Yon-Rogg. So, Yon-Rogg deserved it. But still, it didn't make matters easier for him to win Adriana's heart back. He would have to try really hard to gain her trust again until her memory comes back, hopefully.

Bucky's eyes widened as they went closer to the surface of the planet. It seemed the whole planet consisted of water, all he could see was endless blue ocean. But then slowly he could see an island and what seemed to be structures surrounding the island, spread out far from the island onto the sea like tree branches.

Adriana steered the ship towards what looked like a large hangar on the center of the island. Suddenly a yellow light flashed on the ship's communication screen signalling that they were being contacted. Adriana pushed a button near the yellow light and a female voice came out from the speaker.

"Good afternoon, welcome to Yahiri. Would you please state your name and your business here?"

"Uh, hello. My name is Una-Ver from Torfa, I'm here for a vacation." Adriana replied and Bucky's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Very well. Please direct your ship to hangar 25. We will be with you shortly." the female voice said.

"Thank you." Adriana replied.

"Vacation?" Bucky asked, turning to Adriana still with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yahiri is a planet known mostly for being a resort for people around the universe. 95% of the planet consists of water and only 5% of it is land. The natives are amphibians. Some live on the land but most of them live underwater. The ones living on the land built overwater bungalows surrounding the main island and rent them out. It's quite a popular place for a vacation for races across the universe. They also produce many delicious seafood but of course we can't say we're here for seafood trade. So vacation is the only reason that makes sense." Adriana explained.

"Oh, okay." Bucky nodded. Vacation? With Adriana? That sounded good if only they were in a normal situation. But they were being hunted and Adriana hated him. Truly not the best circumstances to have a vacation, he thought in defeat.

Adriana steered their ship towards hangar 25 and soon landed in it. They went out of the ship and was welcomed by a tall humanoid female alien with skin the color of rainbow and long white silvery hair braided neatly behind her back. The alien's face was similar to a human. Bucky could even say the alien looked beautiful with mesmerizing blue eyes. She wore a skin tight blue suit much like a diving suit and he noticed she had webbed fingers.

"Welcome to Humnia Island." The alien said, smiling warmly at them. Bucky felt a strange warm and light sensation in his heart as he saw the alien smiled at them. He felt suddenly at peace, as if they weren't being hunted and were on the run. His positive thoughts overcame everything and he felt like they were going to be okay. He smiled back at the alien warmly.

"Thank you." Adriana said. Bucky turned to her and also could see the change in her face. She looked happier and at peace. Despite feeling strange about it, he was glad that she seemed to be feeling better.

"My name is Iren and I will take you to your accomodation today. Have you made a booking?" Iren asked.

"Uh.. Yes, could you please check? It should be under the name Yon-Rogg." Adriana replied.

Iren whipped out something like a cellphone from a pocket on her pants and started swiping and pressing on it.

"Yon-Rogg from Torfa is it?" Iren asked, her eyes still looking on the device's screen.

"Yes." Adriana nodded.

"Alright, you're booked at Soneva Jani resort for, hmm.. an unspecified time." Iren said, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, yes. We weren't sure how long we wanted to stay here. We're adventurous and love to do things on a whim." Adriana smiled.

"Very well. Please come with me." Iren smiled.

"Wait, our ship's tail is damaged. Do you know where we could get it fixed?" Adriana asked.

"Oh, we have mechanics ready on call should you need help." Iren replied.

"That's brilliant. Could you help arrange for a mechanic to come and fix it?" Adriana asked.

"Certainly ma'am. We'll arrange it for you as soon as possible." Iren said.

"Thank you so much." Adriana smiled.

"You're welcome ma'am" Iren smiled. "Is there anything else that you need before we go to the resort?"

"No, that would be all, thank you." Adriana responded.

"Very well, please follow me." Iren turned around and guided them to get into what seemed to be a white hover car.

The hover car's back door opened vertically and Bucky could see a spacious seating area inside. He let Adriana get into it first then he climbed in after her. The door closed automatically and soon they were on their way to Soneva Jani with Iren driving the hover car.

Bucky looked around as Iren took them out of the hangar and onto the street on the main island. Hover cars flew around them as aliens on vacations went in and out of the hangar. The main street was lined with thick palm trees on the side, guiding them towards the beach. Iren took them to a large wooden building just before the beach ended. The large wooden building was connected to a winding wooden pedestrian bridge that connected it with all of the bungalows over the water.

Iren parked the car next to the large building and soon went out of the car. The door of the passenger seat was opened automatically and Bucky and Adriana climbed out of it.

"Please come with me to the reception area for the check-in process." Iren said and they walked towards the large building.

Bucky saw different types of aliens coming in and out of the building. He shook his head in awe. There must be at least 10 different types of aliens that he saw in addition to the natives of Yahiri. None of them gawked at him at all, unlike back in Torfa. They were all seemed to be used to seeing different types of aliens around them.

Iren took them to a reception desk where a male Yahiri with short cropped white silvery hair and piercing yellow eyes welcomed them. Then she excused herself as Adriana and Bucky took a seat in front of the male Yahiri.

"Welcome to Soneva Jani. My name is Yashi. How can I help you today?" Yashi smiled at them.

"We'd like to check-in under the name Yon-Rogg, please." Adriana said.

"Certainly ma'am. Let me check for your booking." Yashi said and he turned his attention to what seemed to be a computer right beside him.

"Yon-Rogg from Torfa, is it?" Yashi asked.

"Yes, that's right." Adriana nodded.

"Very well, you are booked at Soneva Fushi Bungalow. An excellent choice for honeymooners." Yashi smiled, clearly thinking they were on their honeymoon.

"Oh, wait, we're not on our honeymoon." Adriana interjected. Bucky could feel a slight pang in his heart as he heard her say it.

"Oh? Well, it is still a beautiful bungalow for a couple." Yashi smiled.

"We're not.. a couple. There was a change of plans and my husband couldn't come and instead I'm here with a.. friend.." Adriana said slowly and she glanced at Bucky for a split second before returning her gaze back to Yashi. Bucky's heart seemed to bleed in pain as he heard her. He sighed and looked down.

"Oh, I see." Yashi said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Is there another bungalow available? I'd like to stay in a different bungalow if I can." Adriana said. Bucky felt more and more pain in his heart as he heard her.

"Please wait while I check." Yashi said and he turned his attention to the computer. After a while he turned to them and shook his head. "I'm really sorry ma'am but all the bungalows are fully booked. As you know we are in a busy holiday season."

"Oh, okay. That's fine." Adriana said, her face fell.

"Very well. I have checked you in. Breakfast is included in your booking and will be available at the restaurant here in the main building. For lunch and dinner we provide room service or you could explore the many restaurants on the island and under the sea. You could inform us if you would like to be taken to those restaurants." Yashi said.

"Restaurant under the sea?" Bucky asked, looking up at Yashi curiously.

"Yes, the Titan restaurant just opened early this year. It is located under the sea under a glass dome, so it is accessible for those who can't breathe under water. I highly recommend it for everyone who visits us. Not just for the view and experience but also for the delicious seafood they have on offer." Yashi smiled.

"Okay, sounds interesting." Bucky nodded.

"Very well. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Yashi asked.

"No, thank you." Adriana said.

"Alright. Now our bellboy will take you to your bungalow and help with any luggage you might have." Yashi said.

"Oh, we don't bring any luggage. We were.. in a hurry." Adriana said, making Yashi's eyebrows raised in confusion.

"That reminds me, is there a clothing store around here?" Adriana asked.

"Yes, there's a shopping market near the hangar where you can find anything you might be looking for." Yashi said.

"Oh, thank you." Adriana nodded.

"We have hover cars ready to take you there any time you wish. Just contact us and we'll be happy to arrange the transport to take you there." Yashi said.

"Thank you again." Adriana said.

"Very well. If there's nothing else let me call the bell boy." Yashi said.

He turned to pick up something like a phone from beside the computer. He instructed someone to come there and moments later another male Yahiri with short white silver hair and green eyes appeared and stood next to them.

"Sonen, please take these guests to the Soneva Fushi bungalow." Yashi instructed the male Yahiri.

Sonen nodded and they stood up. After thanking Yashi again they went out of the large building and stepped onto the wooden pedestrian bridge outside. The pedestrian bridge stretched out far into the sea and ended at a circle at the edge of the resort. On the left and right side of the bridge numerous bungalows were lined up, all of them looked identical to one another but there were names boarded up to the wooden wall next to each bungalow's door so guests would know what bungalow they were entering into.

Sonen took them to the Soneva Fushi bungalow which was located about five bungalows away from the large building. Bucky's eyes widened as they entered the spacious bungalow. They were welcomed by the view of the beautiful ocean right in front of them as there was a huge window at the back where all of the areas in the bungalow were facing. There was a seating area and dining area as they came in. To the right of it there were more seating areas and a small kitchen. Next to the seating area was the bedroom and at the right end of the bedroom there was an outdoor bathroom with sunken bathtub, a shower and two wash basins. The large window at the dining area gave way to a large deck that led to a large fresh water pool with sunken dining area, daybeds, swing, and catamaran nets around it. There was also a long slide from the second floor of the bungalow leading straight into the ocean. The bungalow had cream and white decor all over it giving it a fun and breezy beach house feel.

Bucky's eyes widened as Sonen took them around the bungalow and showed them how the roof above the bedroom was retractable so they could sleep under the stars. He sat on the bed and looked up as the roof slowly opened to show them the clear blue sky up above. He marveled at how things changed in a matter of hours for them. The planet that Adriana had chosen was perfect for them despite all the circumstances. The atmosphere would surely help him in winning Adriana's heart back. He hoped Zogg-Larn would never found them there. If they could stay there forever he would be happy. He wouldn't miss earth with all of the facilities, comfort and atmosphere surrounding them. Especially with Adriana by his side. For once he felt like he was in cloud nine. Perhaps they could even get married here. He was sure there was a hall somewhere in this island where they could have their wedding at. It would be perfect. He smiled as he laid down on the bed and looked up to the sky.

Sonen was finally finished giving them a tour of the bungalow and he excused himself. It wasn't long after Sonen was gone that Bucky felt a dark heavy feeling entered his heart. It felt like there was a grey cloud hovering over his heart, threatening to pour rain on it. He remembered again why exactly they were there and the dire situation they were in. He also remembered again what he had done and how Adriana seemed to really hate him.

He shook his head in confusion as Adriana came into the bedroom. He studied her face and his heart plummeted as he saw her expression. He could see grief and sadness in her eyes again. The happiness was gone entirely from her face.

She walked closer to him and stopped by the bed.

"Is your arm okay?"

"What?" Bucky completely forgot that Adriana had grazed his arm with his spear earlier. He barely felt the pain.

He sat up and looked to his right arm and saw some blood stains on the sleeve of his jacket. He removed his jacket slowly and winced a little as the wound on his arm was grazed by the jacket. He studied the wound. It didn't seem too deep and it had dried. With the super soldier serum in his veins it would heal in one day.

"I think it's okay. The wound isn't deep. I just need to clean it. It looks worse than it actually is." Bucky said, smiling at Adriana. He was happy that she still cared.

"Let me help you clean it." She said and she went to the kitchen. Moments later she came back to the bedroom bringing some water in a bowl and a clean cloth.

She set the bowl on a table next to the bed, dipped the clean cloth in it and sat in front of Bucky. She looked up at him before touching his arm, silently asking for his permission. Bucky's heart beat so fast in his chest as he stared at her. He nodded and Adriana gently started cleaning the wound on his arm.

Bucky winced every time she pressed the cloth to his wound. But it was all worth it just to be touched by her. While she continued cleaning his wound he studied her face. How much he missed seeing her so close to him like this. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and her lips parted a little and all he could think about was how it would feel to kiss those gentle lips again. Butterflies flew in his stomach as he continued to study her features. He admired her beautiful long lashes, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, her cute pointed nose and the light freckles that dotted her nose and cheek. He remembered the times when he would kiss her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and her lips, how right it felt to him. He remembered how with just a smile and a touch she would make his heart swell with so much love and happiness. Truly, she was the only woman that could drive him crazy like this.

Before he knew it, she was done cleaning his wound. It was too quick for him. He still wanted her touch on him. She was about to stand up but Bucky caught her hand.

"Thank you, for cleaning my wound." He smiled warmly at her.

She blushed and for a moment they just gazed at each other. He could see conflict in her eyes then a familiar loving and caring gaze. He glanced at her lips and leaned in closer to her, his heart beat so fast in his chest. He was about to kiss her but she leaned away from him, let go of his hand and stood up quickly.

"You're welcome." She said, her eyes turned cold again. Then she stood up and went back to the kitchen, leaving Bucky to stare at her in disappointment. Be patient, Bucky. He scolded himself.

Moments later she came back into the bedroom.

"Bucky, I'm going out to the shopping market to buy some clothes. I left my bag back in Torfa and I don't have any more clothes." She said.

"Oh, okay. I'll come with you." Bucky said, sitting up from the bed.

"No!" Adriana said and Bucky's heart plummeted again.

"I'm sorry.. I just.. I need to be alone." Adriana said, her eyes pleading.

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Okay. I'll just.. wait for you here. Thank you for cleaning my wound." He smiled.

Adriana nodded but didn't return his smile. She then turned around, leaving Bucky alone with his heart bleeding yet again.

As soon as Adriana was out of his sight, he took off his shoes and laid back down on the bed. He realized he hadn't slept at all last night and the exhaustion was finally sinking in. So he closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. The pain in his heart gradually disappeared and soon he fell asleep.

-----

Humnia Main Shopping Market, Yahiri, Reina Star System - May 2025

As soon as Adriana went out of the bungalow and met a Yahiri again, she immediately felt the feeling of happiness and peace in her heart. She suspected the natives of Yahiri had a special power that could manipulate the feelings of others because as soon as Sonen went out of the bungalow, she felt the dark grief again in her heart and hatred towards Bucky. She decided to ask around about it to see if her theory was right, and she was proven right. Yashi, the reception staff had confirmed her suspicion.

"Yes, we Yahirians have a special power that can manipulate the feelings of others into feelings of happiness and peace. It's the reason why we never got involved into wars with other races and beings because our presence alone bring peace in everyone's hearts. And it's the reason why our planet is the number one resort planet in the world."

The fact had somewhat made Adriana felt a little creepy. She had asked if it worked the other way around. But Yashi said it didn't. They couldn't make others feel sadness or any other negative feelings. She also asked whether they could read minds and Yashi said they couldn't, much to her relief.

So with that fact in her mind, she entered the Main Shopping Market in Humnia Island feeling happy and at peace. With so many Yahirians around she couldn't help but feel like that. She was also feeling in her element looking at all the clothes and beautiful dresses shown on all the beautiful stores in the market. Clothes, somehow they made her even happier. She had realized that since she was in Torfa, making all those beautiful dresses for the Argens. She remembered that Bucky told her that she was working in a big fashion brand back on earth. Maybe, there was some truth to it. She thought as her fingers grazed on the delicate sheer fabric of a collection of dresses hanging in front of her.

She felt time flew by so quickly as she immersed herself in the shopping experience. Humnia Island was basically a place where summer was all year around so the clothes that were sold there were all casual beach wear with some colorful diving suit like clothes, which she suspected were targeted to the Yahirians who live underwater. There were also some basic sweaters and jackets. In the end she bought two basic shirts, two trousers, a leather jacket, two sleeping attires, some underwear and two of the beautiful dresses she had seen earlier with the delicate fabric. She also bought a duffel bag and some towels. She looked around and thought of Bucky all of a sudden. He might need some clothes too. So she bought him two basic shirts, two trousers, a leather jacket and some boxer briefs, which made her feel kind of weird. She felt like buying things for her significant other. It felt strange yet right to her. It tugged at her memory, like it was something she had done numerous times before. She shrugged it off as she went to the cashier and paid.

She took a hover car back towards Soneva Jani resort. A male Yahirian by the name of Rian was the chauffer. As they passed the street he told her to try visiting the Titan restaurant. He said it was the best restaurant in the whole universe and anyone who visits Yahiri wouldn't want to miss visiting it. She thought it would be a nice place to have dinner so she thought about asking Bucky to go. But as she arrived at the resort and walked closer towards her bungalow, she couldn't help but feel the darkness in her heart again. With no Yahirian around that she could see, her true feelings appeared and she changed her mind. There was no way she was going to ask Bucky to the restaurant. She wouldn't want him to think she was asking him out. Not after what he had done. She still couldn't forgive him. Her mind wandered back to Yon-Rogg and she felt a pang in her heart. She hoped someone back in Torfa had found his body and gave him a proper burial.

She opened the door to the bungalow and stepped inside. The bungalow was quiet. She entered the bedroom and found Bucky sleeping peacefully on the bed. For a moment she just stared at his innocent sleeping face and strangely felt the peace in her heart again. It felt right to be with him. But she shook her head as the grief over losing Yon-Rogg took over. How could she be with a murderer, a monster like Bucky? No, even if she once loved him, she couldn't be with him again. Not after all that he had done.

She walked past the bed and into a dressing room next to the bed. She put down all her shopping bags on the floor, picked up some clothing items and a towel then went into the bathroom. She wanted to soak in the bath tub. It seemed like a good idea to relax after a long and traumatic two days in her life.

As she submerged herself in the warm and fragrant soapy water, her mind wandered back to the events of the previous days. She replayed everything in her mind while her fingers turned the teardrop shaped vial on her neck containing Yon-Rogg's blood around and around. She couldn't help but started to sob as the memory of seeing Yon-Rogg being stabbed by Bucky flashed back in her mind. She saw Yon-Rogg's astonished face as the sword impaled his stomach and the fear in his eyes as he slipped and fell down over the cliff. Tears started to fall from her eyes as the grief overcame her like a wave and she cried hard.

-----

Bucky opened his eyes slowly and looked up towards the sky. Apparently the sky outside had turned darker. The light blue sky had changed into a darker shade of blue. He looked to the front and saw Yahiri's sun was about to set. He wondered how long he was asleep. He felt really refreshed and didn't have a dream that he could remember.

Suddenly he could hear a faint crying sound. He stood up and went towards the crying sound. It seemed to come from the bathroom. He stopped in front of the bathroom door and knocked.

"Adriana.. are you in here?" He asked.

The crying sound stopped and her voice came out. "It's Una-Ver not Adriana."

Bucky's heart plummeted as he listened to her request. But he really needed to respect her wish if he wanted to win her trust back.

"Una-Ver.. Una.. are you in here?" he asked again.

"Obviously." Adriana replied.

Bucky sighed. "I'm sorry.. I'm an idiot. Of course you're in here. Are you.. are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Please go away Bucky and just leave me alone." She pleaded and he could hear her sniffle a little.

"I'm.. I'm sorry Una. I didn't have the chance to properly apologize to you for what I did to Yon-Rogg. I'm sorry, I truly am. I hope you'll forgive me one day." He said slowly.

Adriana stayed quiet and it made Bucky more nervous.

"Una?" He asked, hoping she would respond but he could only hear more crying sound as Adriana continued to cry. His heart broke as he listened to her crying.

He turned around, leaned back on the door and slowly slid down onto the floor. He rested his head on the door, one of his legs pulled towards his stomach and the other lying straight on the floor. He sighed as he continued to listen to Adriana crying behind the door. What would he give at that moment to be able to go back in time and stop himself from killing Yon-Rogg. If he didn't kill him, he had a better chance at winning Adriana's heart back, he was sure of it. Why did he let his hatred towards Yon-Rogg won over him? Why? He thought in desperation as he closed his eyes and let all the guilt consume him.

He was deep in the pit of his dark mind, wallowing in the guilt and regret when the door of the bathroom was suddenly opened and he fell back onto the floor as the door opened, hitting his head on Adriana's feet.

"Bucky! What are you doing?" Adriana exclaimed out loud as he looked up at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, I was.. uh.. waiting for you to come out." He said, feeling warmth crawling from his neck to his cheek.

He got up and dusted his pants then looked down in front of him. Adriana's eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. But all the red on her face and her cheek made her look cute to him. He continued to stare at her and felt butterflies in his stomach. She looked so beautiful wearing a v-neck soft pink sleeveless dress with white floral motifs. Her beautiful brunette hair was down behind her back and it still looked wet, making her look somewhat sexy. He could smell a sweet apple fragrance coming out of her, bringing back beautiful memories from the past. He felt a little desire waking up in him as he glanced at her exposed neck and upper chest. He looked down to the floor immediately, trying to avoid looking at her cleavage which was slightly shown and tried to hold back his desire.

"Oh, you needed to use the bathroom? Go ahead." She said, breaking the silence and she stepped aside.

"Uh.. yeah. Thanks." Bucky said and he entered the bathroom. His hand brushed over hers as he walked past her, sending a light electricity jolt throughout his hand. Adriana jerked her hand from his. It seemed she felt the jolt too.

"Sorry." He said as he passed.

"It's.. it's okay." Adriana said. "I.. uh.. thought you needed some clothes so I bought you some."

"Oh, thanks. You didn't have to." Bucky smiled, feeling happier as he listened to her. He still had hope apparently, Adriana seemed to care about him despite what he had done.

"Well, I was already shopping for myself so.. why not. Anyway, let me go and get them for you." She said and she walked out the bathroom towards the dressing room. Moments later she came back bringing a white shirt, black trousers and black boxer briefs.

"I didn't know if you wore briefs, boxer briefs or boxer shorts, but I got you these." She said, blushing as she placed the clothing items on his hands. Bucky couldn't help but blushed as well.

"Uh.. Thank you. I do wear boxer briefs. You still remember that." He smiled and Adriana's eyes widened.

"Oh.. okay. Yeah, seems I still remember that." She said.

For a moment they just stared at each other. Bucky resisted the urge to drop everything and just embrace her. He missed her so much. Being so close to her but unable to touch her drove him kind of mad. But he didn't want to scare her. He needed to take things slow.

"Yeah. That's good. I hope you'll soon remember everything." Bucky smiled and Adriana nodded.

"I hope so too. Anyway, I'll be in the sitting room. I'm kind of hungry and I want to order some food. Do you want some?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm kind of hungry as well." Bucky nodded.

"Okay. Anything in particular that you want?" She asked.

"Oh, I'll have anything you have. I know nothing about the food provided here anyway." He said.

"Alright." Adriana nodded and turned around.

Bucky took a deep breath and sighed as he watched her walking away from him. Well, that was good progress. He thought. She remembered that he wore boxer briefs! That was a good start. And it seemed she was feeling better. He smiled as he closed the door of the bathroom and started to take off his clothes.

Several minutes later he went out of the bathroom feeling refreshed and happy. He rubbed a towel on his head as he walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The door separating the bedroom and the sitting room was made of glass so he could see Adriana sitting on the dining table. It seemed she was eating. His stomach grumbled looking at her eating. He shook his head and smiled a little.

He put down the towel on a chair nearby, went to the dressing table and looked at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand on his hair, tidying it up a little. Feeling satisfied with how he looked, he went out of the bedroom and walked towards Adriana.

As soon as he was out of the bedroom Adriana laid her eyes on him. She blushed as she looked at him but soon averted her eyes from him and paid attention back to the plate in front of her. Bucky smiled a little. It seemed he still had some kind of positive effect on her and it made him happy.

"Hi." He said brightly as he reached the dining table and took a seat in front of her.

"Hi." Adriana said flatly without even looking at him.

Bucky swallowed back disappointment and quickly composed himself. Slow, take it slow, man. She'll soon accept you again and forgive you. Just take it slow. He reminded himself.

He looked on the table and saw a platter of various seafood with a large bowl of what seemed to be fried rice of some sort.

"Are these good? I'm starving." He asked.

"Yeah, they're really good." She said as she picked up a plate and started to fill it with rice and some of the delicious looking seafood. She then gave the plate to Bucky.

"There you go."

"Oh, thank you." Bucky said, startled at her behavior. It really felt like they were a couple. Well, they were, she just didn't remember it yet.

Bucky took a spoon and started to take a spoonful of the fried rice. He nodded in satisfaction as he chewed and tasted the delicious fried rice. For several minutes they continued to eat in silence. Adriana finished eating first. She stood up, went to the pantry and started to prepare some coffee. There was a coffee machine apparently. Bucky was amazed at how coffee seemed to be available all over the universe.

"Do you want some kaf?" Adriana asked, turning back to look at him.

"Sure, doll." Bucky said. The moment the endearing word came out of his mouth he stopped eating and waited with bated breath on how Adriana would respond to that. Adriana paused her movement and stared back at him.

"What did you call me?" She asked slowly.

Bucky cleared his throat. "Doll. It's a nickname I gave for you."

"Oh. Okay." Adriana nodded and blushed then quickly turned around.

He felt kind of stupid for slipping like that. But he was glad that she didn't seem to mind. It was a good start. He repeated again in his head. His heart felt somewhat lighter.

Soon he was done eating and just in time too because Adriana was done preparing their coffee.

"There you go." She said, putting the cup of coffee onto the table in front of him.

"Thank you." Bucky smiled and he could see her blush again.

"No problem." Adriana responded and she quickly averted her eyes from him and walked away.

Bucky stared at her as she went outside onto the large deck facing the fresh water pool. The sun had fully set, leaving the sky above dark like ink. She sat on one of the daybeds on the deck, sipped her coffee, put it down on a table next to the daybed and leaned back on it and laid down. Bucky stood up and walked towards her. Maybe they could have some small talk. Help her remember more about her past. He thought.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked as he arrived next to her.

Adriana looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed. After a while she finally replied. "Okay. As long as you don't talk. I don't feel like talking."

Bucky's heart plummeted a little as he heard her request. He really needed to take things slow with her. So he nodded and sat on the daybed next to her. He put down the cup of coffee on the table next to him, leaned back on the day bed and slowly laid fully down on it.

He looked to the front, way onto the dark sea where the reflection of the two moons Yahiri had could be seen on the sea's surface. There was no sound safe from the sound of the waves around them. The air felt tranquil and peaceful. He looked up and saw stars twinkling down at him. He wondered which one was earth's sun and whether it was actually visible from here. He thought of Sam, Kate and Clint all of a sudden. They must be worried sick about him. Maybe he could try contacting them tomorrow. Surely Yahiri had some kind of communication method he could use to at least call back to earth. Or he could try contacting his friends using the Kree's ship's communication device.

Suddenly they could hear sounds of laughter from a neighbouring bungalow and the sound of doors closing and opening. Several minutes went by in silence then slowly they could hear the faint sound of people moaning in pleasure. Bucky blushed as he realized what it was that they were hearing. He turned to look at Adriana and her face looked beet red as well. The moaning sound grew louder and soon turned into a little scream as a female voice continuously screamed out her lover's name.

Adriana stood up abruptly and went back inside then went into the bedroom. Bucky stood up and followed her. He couldn't stand listening to the sound of the lovers next door either. It brought back memories with Adriana and it killed him inside that he couldn't be with her the way the two lovers next door were like. Someday Bucky, be patient. She'll come around sooner or later. A side of him tried to encourage him.

He closed the door towards the deck and thankfully the sound of the lovers next door was somewhat successfully muted. He walked towards the bedroom and saw Adriana lying down on the bed, her eyes looked up at the sky above.

"Hey. Are you okay?" He asked as he entered the bedroom.

"Yeah. I'm just uncomfortable listening to what the people next door are doing." She said, looking at him and blushing a little.

"Yeah. They're very.. expressive." Bucky smiled and walked closer to her.

"Bucky.. can I ask you something?" She asked.

"Oh, sure." Bucky said and he grabbed a chair near him and dragged it closer to the bed and sat on it.

"Why did you do it?" She asked.

"Do what?" He asked.

"Kill my dad and my husband." She said flatly.

Bucky's heart plummeted to his stomach. Well, it seemed it was time for the talk. He hoped she would trust everything that he had to say. So he took a deep breath and started speaking.

"With your dad, I didn't have a choice. I was a brainwashed assassin, Una. My mind was not my own. I spent decades doing the bidding of Hydra, and later on.. the Russians, killing people around earth on their behalf. With just several simple words, anyone could turn me into a killing machine. I finally regained my mind back just a couple of years now after my best friend Steve helped broke me away from the clutches of Hydra."

Adriana's eyes widened as she listened to him. "Brainwashed? So, you didn't mean to kill my dad?

"No. He was a mission for me Una. I didn't even know you when I assassinated him. You were just a little girl when your dad died." He said.

"What?!" She exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah.. I killed your dad back in 2003 when you were just 7 years old. I uh.. believe it or not, I was born in 1917, so that makes me 108 years old now. Because of the super soldier serum running in my veins, I age really slowly. Same as you by the way, you have super soldier serum running in your veins too." He smiled.

"Hold on a minute. I'm a super soldier?" She asked, her jaw dropped.

"Yeah. You were almost dead, Una. A bad man kidnapped you and shot you on the back. You were almost dead and lost the ability to talk and walk. But I brought you to Wakanda and Shuri injected the super soldier serum into you, healing you completely and turning you into a super soldier." He explained.

"That sounds unbelievable." She commented.

"It is but it's the truth. Don't you realize the strength and abilities you have? Your ability to fight with the spear, that's from your training with the Dora Milaje, Wakanda's royal guard to the Queen. You can also kick ass without the spear you know. Even before you were a super soldier you held black belt in karate." He smiled proudly at her.

"Dora Milaje? Karate?" Adriana asked.

"Yes. Sound familiar?" Bucky asked.

"Somewhat." She said as she pondered all the information Bucky had given to her. After a while she continued asking. "Why did you kill Yon-Rogg?"

Bucky sighed and looked down on his hands, fiddling with them as he built up the courage to tell her about what happened.

"I.. I really didn't mean to, Una. I'm sorry. I saw you and him kissing in front of me and I just got really jealous. I walked away from both of you trying to clear my head. I was letting off some steam by punching a tree and Yon-Rogg found me. I.. I regret to say that I taunted him. He was about to leave me alone and I taunted him to the point that he got really angry and started to attack me. I was fighting for my life, Una. It was either me or him that dies. And all I could think about when I faced him was how to get rid of him. I couldn't let you continue to be manipulated by him. He lied to you, Una. I mean.. Una isn't even your real name. Your real name is Adriana Weaver. And .. " But Bucky couldn't continue on what he was about to say.

"Stop.. Stop it, Bucky!" Adriana shouted as she sat up from the bed.

"You're confusing me. I.. I don't know if I can believe you." She said as she paced around the room.

"I'm sorry.. Una." Bucky said slowly as his eyes followed her pacing around the room, his heart constricted in his chest.

"I saw how you fought Yon-Rogg, Bucky. You could've spared his life but you chose to kill him. I.. I cannot forgive you for that. He.. he loved me, Bucky. And I.. I loved him." She said as tears started to fall from her eyes.

Bucky's heart felt like a thousand needles had pierced it. He felt he was in a losing battle. He had lost her. Her heart didn't belong to him anymore.

Adriana sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I.. I'm sorry, Bucky. I could feel that I once loved you. When I look at you I could feel the feeling coming back too. But, whenever I look at you I also remember Yon-Rogg and how you killed him. I.. I can't do this anymore, Bucky. Maybe.. maybe it's best that we go our separate ways tomorrow. You can go back to earth if you want. I'm thinking of staying here for a while." She said and his heart felt like it broke into a thousand pieces as he realized what she was saying.

"No! Adriana! I mean.. Una! Please don't do this to us! We're meant to be together! We're soulmates! Don't you remember the dream?" He stood up and approached her and held both her hands in his tight.

"What dream?" She asked, looking up at him curiously.

"Believe it or not, I first met you in a dream. I dreamt I was in a beautiful garden, with flowers and butterflies flying around me. Then I heard someone say.. 'Beautiful isn't it?' I turned to look at the voice and it was.. you. I looked at you and it was love at first sight for me. A day after I had that dream I met you for real at Dear Butter cafe, across from your office. One thing led to another and we ended up together. Then one day you told me you had been having the same dream like I did! We're soulmates, Adriana. Please.. please believe me. Remember the dream!" Bucky pleaded.

Adriana just stared at him, confusion in her eyes. "I.. I'm sorry, Bucky. But I don't remember it. I just remember seeing you.. killed my husband." She said slowly.

Bucky's heart broke again as he listened to her. She released her hands from his and turned around. Then she quickly got out of the bedroom and walked towards the front door.

"Adriana! Where are you going!?" Bucky called out after her.

"Leave me alone, Bucky! I need some time alone!" She called out back to him and he could only watch her go out of the front door, out of the bungalow and potentially out of his life.

-----

Titan Restaurant, Yahiri - May 2025

Adriana's jaw dropped as she stepped inside an elevator taking her down to Titan restaurant under the sea. The elevator was made from glass so she could see the view of the sea surrounding the elevator as it brought her down into the the restaurant, 200 feet under the surface of the sea.

Yes, she had decided to visit the restaurant after all. All the grief and confusion she experienced earlier as she heard Bucky explained everything to her was gone as soon as she was around Yahirians. And she felt she owed it to herself to have some good time and forget about everything, even if for just a couple of hours.

Truthfully, her heart also broke when she suggested to Bucky that she thought it was better that they went their separate ways. She could feel it was the wrong thing to do and that she should give Bucky a chance. But logic trumped her feelings. Well, logic and grief over Yon-Rogg. Her heart stung a little as she remembered him. Did he really lie to her and manipulated her all this time? But, why? She wished he was still alive so she could confront him about it. All she could remember was how Yon-Rogg loved her so much, so fully and fiercely that it left her breathless most of the time. She could feel her eyes prickled as she remembered him and she blinked quickly several times to stop herself from crying.

She looked around and saw two Yahirians, a male and a female who seemed to be on a date. The female smiled at her and she felt warmth in her heart. She smiled back and felt thankful that the universe had directed her to this planet. It was truly a perfect planet to heal from traumatic experiences.

The elevator soon stopped and Adriana walked out of it. Her jaw dropped to the floor as she looked around the beautiful restaurant. The restaurant was surrounded by glass all over the sides and the ceiling was also made from glass but decorated with pentagonal patterns. The columns placed around the restaurant were decorated with mirrors, reflecting all the view of the ocean around them. She could see small colorful fish swimming around and in the distance she could even see a shark!

She continued to walk inside and looked around. There were about thirty tables spread around the restaurant. Some tables could seat 4 people and some could seat up to 6 people. The restaurant was crowded with about 70% of the tables occupied. Thankfully she could find an empty table which sat 4 people. She took a seat and moments later a Yahirian waitress came and offered the menu. She was still full so she decided to just order some snacks and a drink. The waitress suggested the seafood snack platter which consisted of deep fried calamari, some selected prawns, oysters as well as caviar, served with a special housemade sauce. She ordered it along with a glass of Yahirian wyne.

She leaned back in her seat as the waitress left her and looked around. She could see Yahirians as well as other alien races around her, green-skinned, blue-skinned, pink-skinned, with and without horns. She could also see some peculiar looking aliens. Aliens that looked like a lizard, like a cat, even like a wide eyed bug. She shuddered as she looked at the wide eyed bug alien. The alien unfortunately noticed her looking at him. He raised his glass at her and winked at her. She looked away immediately in embarrassment. Then her gaze stopped at the most heart stopping alien of them all, the golden skinned aliens. She remembered reading about them back in Torfa. The Sovereign had golden skin, eyes and hair. They lived in a cluster of planets of the same name. They were created and engineered in birthing pods, making each of them perfect physically and mentally. Because of that they were often haughty and arrogant, thinking other races were beneath them. One would have to be really careful around them. One wrong word or one wrong move and they could order their entire fleet to hunt someone down.

There were two Sovereigns sitting on a table next to her. A beautiful female one and a handsome male one. They were laughing and chatting with each other. It seemed they were on a date. Her heart stung as she looked at them. They looked so happy together. She looked around and saw most of the tables were occupied with couples. Only two tables were occupied with a group.

She sighed and looked down. She didn't want to remember her own complicated love life, how she just lost her husband and that another man loved her. It was all just too much for her.

Suddenly she could feel the warm feeling again in her chest. She looked up and saw the Yahirian waitress had appeared next to her bringing her order.

"Thank you." Adriana smiled at the waitress after her orders were placed on the table.

"You're welcome, ma'am." The waitress smiled then left her.

She tried the wyne first and sipped it slowly. As soon as it entered her system she felt much more relaxed. She smiled and put the glass down and started to eat the seafood platter. She took her time and ate slowly, her mind focusing on nothing but the act of eating and enjoying the atmosphere. Some tranquil instrumental music was playing in the background and she just tried to enjoy them all.

About half an hour after her order came, she finished eating the whole seafood platter and felt the need to go to the restroom. The restroom was located rather far from the main restaurant building so it took some time to get there. It was spacious and designed beautifully with 4 available stalls. She was just finished using the restroom and was washing her hands when she could hear the sound of people fighting outside. She opened the door and saw the female Sovereign standing several feet away from her being harassed by the alien that looked like a wide eyed bug.

"Leave me alone!" The Sovereign yelled as the wide eyed bug alien grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him.

"Why are your race so haughty and arrogant? You know you're no better than the rest of us." the wide eyed bug alien said as he stared at The Sovereign with hate in his eyes.

"Your race killed my race like we were bugs. That's not perfect behavior in my opinion." the wide eyed bug alien continued.

"Well your race stole from us! Killing your race was justified. Besides, it was a long time ago. We have a peace treaty now." The Sovereign said.

"I don't care about any treaty. I want to avenge my people and it so happens you're in front of me." the wide eyed bug said as he grabbed The Sovereign's neck and started to choke her.

Adriana quickly ran towards them and attacked the wide eyed bug alien, kicking him on the stomach. He immediately released his hold on the Sovereign's neck and they started to fight. Adriana threw some quick and well calculated punches and kicks on the alien and soon the alien was down on the ground, unconscious.

She stood over the wide eyed bug alien, staring at him with hate.

"Thank you so much for saving my life." The Sovereign appeared next to her.

"You're welcome." Adriana smiled and turned towards The Sovereign.

"My name is Shruti. What is yours?" The Sovereign asked.

"I'm Una. Nice to meet you, Shruti." Adriana extended her hand and Shruti shook it briefly.

"Let's go back to the restaurant, my husband must be waiting for me." Shruti said.

"Oh, yeah, of course. Should we let the restaurant staff know about this guy?" Adriana asked as he poked the wide eyed bug alien's head with her feet.

"Just leave him. No need to cause any scene." Shruti said.

"Alright then." Adriana nodded. "I thought you were going to tell your husband and have him avenge you."

"Well, I did think that. But I don't want to ruin my honeymoon." She shrugged.

"I see." Adriana nodded and felt a pang in her heart again.

"So, I noticed you were alone on your table." Shruti said as they started to walk back to the restaurant.

"Yeah, I.. uh.. just lost my husband. We were supposed to go here for our honeymoon but.. he died." Adriana said, her heart constricted in her chest.

Shruti stopped in her tracks and turned to look at her, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I'm really sorry to hear that."

Shruti opened her arms wide and gave her a hug. She felt warm and nice with Shruti's arms around her and she couldn't help but feel some feeling of comfort. She realized she hadn't had any female friend that she could confide into and get support from. Deep down she felt she had close female friends back when she still had her memory. And the feeling of what she had missed all this time overwhelmed her.

Oh how much she wished she had her memory back. She started to sniffle and cry in Shruti's arms. All the feeling of grief and sadness that were gone when she was around Yahirians came up to the surface and she was powerless to hold them.

"There.. there. Let it all out. That's it." Shruti said, patting Adriana's back gently as she continued to cry on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Adriana said after a while. She let go of herself from Shruti's embrace.

"It's okay. I understand." Shruti smiled. "If you need to talk, we can talk back at my table."

"Are.. are you sure? Wouldn't your husband be bothered by me?" Adriana asked, doubt in her voice.

"Oh he wouldn't mind. Don't worry about it. It's the least I could do after you saved my life." Shruti smiled warmly at her.

"Okay." Adriana smiled back and wiped the tears from her eyes.

Shruti was right, her husband didn't mind at all. Especially after Shruti told him that Adriana had saved her life. But even though Shruti's husband didn't mind she ended up not talking much about her problems. Shruti and her husband were still strangers to her, she didn't feel comfortable sharing her problems to them. She just told them that she had lost her husband due to illness. They were both very sympathetic towards her.

They ended up talking about other things and Adriana asked them a lot about their race. She loved finding out more about other alien races.

"So, you just have this vision or feeling about someone's genetic make up?" Adriana asked after she asked them if they had any special powers.

"Yes, exactly. Like you, for instance. I know you have Terran genes in you but also Kree genes and that makes you special." Shruti said, smiling at her.

Adriana's eyes widened in surprise as she heard what Shruti just said. She knew Terra meant earth. But Shruti said she had Kree genes in her! If that was true then Yon-Rogg had been telling the truth! And it was Bucky that had been lying to her!

"Shruti, how sure are you about your power? I mean, did you ever guess incorrectly about someone's genetic make up?" Adriana asked curiously.

"I'm 110% sure about my power. I mean, you can ask my husband if you want a second opinion. Right, darling?" Shruti said, turning to her husband.

"Yes, that's right, darling. For the record, Una, I do feel you have Terran genes but also a little Kree gene in you." Shruti's husband said.

Adriana fell silent as she heard Shruti's husband said that. Her mind in shock as the information entered her heart and mind.

-----

SonevaFushi bungalow, Soneva Jani Resort, Yahiri - May 2025

Bucky took a sip of the Yahirian beer he had found in the refrigerator. He needed something stronger but couldn't find any in the bungalow. So he resorted to drinking the beer. It was thankfully quite good. He put down the beer bottle on the table next to him.

He was lying down on a daybed on the deck outside, trying to process what just happened. He felt a little deja vu as he remembered Adriana once broke up with him too. He almost killed himself because of it, but Clint saved him just in time. Then afterwards he had to experience the most debilitating grief he had ever felt when he saw her exploded up in the sky. He never thought he could feel something like that again. He sighed.

His mind suddenly went to the faithful day the Kree attacked them. Adriana had stopped abruptly after they had picked up some weapons. She kissed him and said that no matter what happened, she would still love him. Where was she now? Where was the Adriana that loved him with all her heart. He felt great pressure on his chest and his eyes prickled as he started to cry.

Suddenly he could hear the sound of the front door being opened. Adriana! Is she back? He thought full of hope. He wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up. He turned towards the front door and saw Adriana, walking towards him.

"Una.. I'm so happy to see you." He smiled at her, wondering if she had changed her mind about leaving him. But the expression on her face seemed to indicate otherwise. She stared at him with hatred in her eyes.

"You lied to me Bucky!" Adriana yelled.

"What?!" Bucky exclaimed out loud. He stood up and approached her.

"You lied! Yon-Rogg was right! I'm half human half Kree. It's you that have been lying to me, Bucky!" Adriana shouted.

Bucky was in shock and could only stare at her with wide eyes. Adriana was half Kree?!

Chapter 14 >

#sebastian stan #sebastianstan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #marvel #avengers #avengers fan fiction

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grad702communicationdesignstudio · 2 years

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Formative Feedback

Ka mua, ka muri – looking back in order to move forward. Good presentation in class Jordan – well done. The notion of the Harakeke plan structure is a good one for your work. We see the outer leaves and recognize the form, but we do not see the Rito, or the core new life of the plant hidden by Tūpuna and Awhi Rito. There is something in this as if you cut the Rito you kill the plant...... You have several visual thoughts in your presentation and the ‘weaving’ of knowledge so you may need to choose a single source to ensure it will come together. The aesthetic of the cut images may require reworking to circle inwards from left to right – the tree works as is, the embryo choose one not both, and you wish to show the nurturing nature of Wāhine (needs to be flipped around so facing to the right) and offer a positive for Tāne image. May require more development on this one. Do you wish the two figures to be of differing size? Not sure If you have seen Vasanti Unka’s I am the universe if you wish to go down the children's book route?

https://www.penguin.co.nz/authors/vasanti-unka The references you have are suitable but not sure if the Ira Johnson McKay approach can inform your research and visual practice considering what you have created – you may need to offer some ‘threads to connect’ your thinking here. The other aspect is the mana of the wearer of Korowai, and this is something that needs to be embodied and not just the sentiment of the wearer or weaver that has made it – assumed cultural knowledge is difficult to indicate meaning for those who do not know.....so how to engulf that thinking? The aspect identified in the Oho + Ata social emotional learning resource is a disconnect and there are some features here but again you need to consider the use – good examples you have found but how to turn them into practical use as they are already created and have you any evidence of how successful they have been? That is why the Harakeke could assist? - Roots, growth, the form, the knowledge representation and how with those who need help to understand the deep knowledge of how to communicate core themes of A Māori Perspective of Whānau and Childrearing in the 21st Century Case Study - Semantic Scholar. Looking like good initial progress Jordan. The drop shadows and clean lines look good on screen, but I'm not sure how these will translate later. We would’ve liked to see better prototypes, not just a print of the visuals. Time is also slowly running out, and I am worried how much time we will have to refine and make this project stronger. We're looking forward to see a proper hardcopy mock-up by week 9 with content (other than illustrations). Good job so far!

Reflection

This was really helpful feedback as I can tell that as I suspected, I am not there yet with my concept. I really like the idea of a childrens book and will explore this but that is not quite what I had in mind.

I guess what I am saying is I want something unique. Something that has not been done before and not quite sure what that is yet. When it comes to me however, I will know it!

0 notes

n7punk · 3 years

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Knifepoint Fic Notes

Knifepoint is now complete! These are all my notes for the chapters, original idea, meta links, fic playlist, etc. The usual “post fic” summary stuff has been moved to my Chapter 14 notes since it’s a bit different for this fic.

Songs for this AU:

This playlist has a few turning points. As such, this is separated in sections. Undercover/the turning point: AViVA - BLAME IT ON THE KIDS, Paramore – Renegade, K.Flay - The Cops, PVRIS – Heaven, Alec Benjamin - If I Killed Someone For You, Ghost – Badflower (included mostly because the first verse hit me like a fucking train for Catra). Catra on her own: Phoenix (ft. Cailin Russo and Chrissy Costanza), YONAKA - Seize the Power, FLETCHER - Last Laugh, Mothica – BUZZKILL, Ashnikko – Tantrum, DIAMANTE - Ghost Myself. Catra/Adora: Bahari – Savage, Bahari - Waking Up The Neighbors, XANA – PRAY, Mako – Murder, gabriel black - jump (feat. Sofi de la Torre), Halsey – Graveyard. Act III: Hailee Steinfeld – Afterlife, Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince – Taylor Swift, CHVRCHES – Miracle, Dove Cameron - We Belong, Star Fire - Sleeping Wolf, Bonnie & Clyde – YUQI, Bea Miller & Jessie Reyez - FEELS LIKE HOME. Finale: UPSAHL - STOP!, MØ - Live to Survive, Lil Nas X - Bring U Down.

Chapter 1: Prologue

This idea came to me on March 16th when I was watching a GTA V Online let’s play. I have no idea what the story of that game is, but I was thinking about immortal/respawning criminals, and then my next thought was “Ooo, Adora respawning somewhere other than the Horde being the sign of her defecting” and the rest of the AU came from there. My focus for the AU was exploring that rivalry-while-lovers dynamic that I always liked in canon fics where Catra and Adora used to be together before Adora joined the Rebellion.

In my head this fic is split into three acts(/stages/parts). They’re a lot less differentiating than the acts in SLAS, they’re just the three story phases this fic has. Act I: The Horde/Undercover. This is the first section of the playlist and ends with the end of Chapter 6, when Catra dies. Act II: Enemies in Love. This is the Catra on her own and Catra/Adora sections of the playlist, characterized by Catra and Adora working separately and dancing around each other while hooking up. Act III: The Softening™. This is labeled as Act III and the Finale in the playlist. It’s characterized by Catra slowly coming to accept Adora’s love and Adora’s belief that Catra is her soulmate solidifying, as well as them finally coming together and the final conclusion of the fic. That isn’t a hard line between Act II and Act III, they kind of fade into each other slowly. Initially the fic was just Act I and Act II in my head with Chapter 6 as the central point of the fic, but I ended up making changes to the story I’ll talk about at the end that lead to what became Chapter 6 falling earlier in the fic and Act II having the fade into Act III.

Hint #1 that this was a soulmates AU: Shadow Weaver referring to immortals as “beings of love.”

Chapter 2: Lamb (to the slaughter)

CW addiction, suicide, child neglect: Originally it was mentioned in this chapter, but it got cut in editing, so I’ll say it here: Adora’s backstory in this is very similar to her backstory in OTOS, where her mother died and her father fell into addiction to cope. She basically just wandered off while he was on a bender. He looked for her for a few weeks, and then the grief of losing them both got to him. Adora ended up losing both her parents and becoming an orphan without knowing it. She became a street kid with very few memories of before.

Shadow Weaver says she “knew” the truth about Scorpia, but actually she never had an inkling before that moment and just began to suspect once Scorpia’s body disappeared. She turned out to be right, so then she was like “I knew all along and am all-knowing.”

Hint #2 for soulmates: Shadow Weaver mentions that immortals usually live in “pairs or triads”, referring to couples and polycules.

Shadow Weaver allowing them to finally be together was attempted murder, as stated later in chapter 6. Shadow Weaver was trying to push them into a relationship before Adora went undercover and potentially found out how immortals work. She wanted Catra to become mortal before then so she could always keep her as leverage over Adora’s head. Catra is, after all, much younger than Shadow Weaver. Shadow Weaver would die of old age before Catra would die of natural causes, so having her be a vulnerable mortal would be the best way to leash Adora. Shadow Weaver just honestly doesn’t understand what “happy and fulfilled together” means for people who actually feel emotions, so she didn’t realize it wasn’t satisfied. She genuinely believed that Catra was guaranteed mortal by the time Adora went undercover.

This fact had me laughing when I read the comments and saw people lamenting over Adora not saying "I love you”, since that silence was a factor in what was going to save Catra’s life later.

Chapter 3: First Contact

Shadow Weaver was listening to their conversation in the car through Adora’s hacked phone. She had bugs in both Catra’s and Adora’s apartment as well, but this conversation was the one that ultimately confirmed to her that Catra and Adora has been together this whole time. She was furious about it because she was certain they were soulmates until that moment, but her rudimentary understanding of immortals told her that couldn’t be the case and Adora must have another soulmate out there who she might leave Catra behind for, thus freeing her from Shadow Weaver’s manipulation. This is why Shadow Weaver was so paranoid and unwilling to play the long game.

Adora referring to Catra’s TV awkwardly as a “television set” is just a little nod to how fucked their childhood was that she would refer to something so commonplace in such an awkward way, because it really wasn’t a part of their lives.

Scorpia didn’t jump to assuming that Adora was talking about immortality just because they’re so rare and most people don’t believe in them. She found Perfuma when she was searching for a way to recenter and recover, and she met the rest of the Alliance through Perfuma and Entrapta, since both were hooked up to Angella’s network.

Octavia hated Catra’s guts ever since the eye incident, which played out very similarly to how it did in the show, but she did used to complain to Scorpia that “I hate that fucking stray, but I want Adora to pull her head out of her ass and get with her just so she’ll get laid and mellow out.” Little did she know that there is nothing on the planet that could make Catra mellow out.

They didn’t tie the sack onto Adora’s head because they were scared of doing it too tight and were cutting off circulation without realizing due to Scorpia’s paralyzing venom. Also, it didn’t matter if it came off since they were all wearing masks.

There’s a piece of Crew-ra Shadow Weaver art done by Diana Huh that is her lounging on a seat in Bright Moon. This is pretty much how I envisioned her when Catra arrived at her apartment to find Shadow Weaver inside.

My lore is that both Shadow Weaver and Hordak are drow in most AUs (Dark elves, though I don’t buy into the DND “all dark elves are evil” bullshit, Shadow Weaver is just obviously a drow and it’s the closest I can come up with for Hordak). Specifically, drow have grey, blue, or purple skintones, ranging in lightness from pretty much snow white to midnight blue or black. Drow have naturally occurring chemicals in their skin that can result in photodermatitus. The name “dark elves” refers to their nocturnal habits in sunny climates to avoid it burning them. Not every drow has enough of the chemical in their skin to cause a reaction, and the intensity varies (often it’s stronger in lighter skintones, though dark skintones can have intense reactions as well).

Perfuma was the one to tie Adora up. I have a headcannon that she’s into rigging, which ended up being mentioned in a later chapter. She ties both Entrapta and Scorpia up. Scorpia finds it hot, whereas Entrapta finds it peaceful and comforting. The suspension is a good sensation for her and lets her just think. Sometimes she requests it when she needs to brainstorm because it helps her focus and think.

Adora’s cover was supposed to be that she got “hysterical” after dying for the first time and Shadow Weaver tried to assure her by telling her about Scorpia and the Alliance, but Adora was still like “I fucking DIED”. At which point Shadow Weaver was worried about a Scorpia repeat, so she let her take a few weeks off to “sort herself out and process” with the insurance of Catra being kept firmly in Horde territory so she knew that Adora would come back for her. Shadow Weaver was supposed to “accidentally leave out” the report on where Scorpia had been spotted before Adora took her leave. Adora was then supposed to have, of her own free will, gone to seek out the Alliance to figure out what was going on with her, since Shadow Weaver was withholding it as another method of controlling her.

Thus, Adora telling the Alliance that Shadow Weaver was holding her girlfriend hostage was all part of the plan, but her telling them that Shadow Weaver wanted her to come find them wasn’t. She was supposed to genuinely believe it was a slip that Shadow Weaver “left that report out”, but instead she straddled the line between being truthful about the undercover operation and lying, admitting that Shadow Weaver definitely wanted her to come here and gather intel, but not telling them that she was reporting in to Catra and there was a whole plan there.

Adora never tells them the truth about this during the fic because it stops feeling like it matters to her after she and Catra have left the Horde, but it still matters to some of the members of the Alliance. Adora does end up telling them a few weeks after the end of the fic. Some of them like “you should have told us earlier”, but Catra leaps in to explain how little Adora actually shared at their check-ins and things like Adora lying about being bugged to avoid giving the Horde information, and it diffuses the situation. Though some members make comments about it here and there, the nature of these is mostly teasing. It’s a bit like “yeah, you should have told us, but we get why you didn’t, so now we’re just going you shit about it.”

Hint #3 for soulmates: Glimmer saying the “nature of immortals” means they’re good people. They exist to love, not to hurt others.

Hint #4: Perfuma asking how long Adora had been with Catra to determine if it’s possible that Catra is her soulmate (+ her certainty that Catra was mortal after hearing that they had been together for years).

Shadow Weaver showed up at Catra’s apartment both to threaten her just in case and because the tracking on Adora’s phone had suddenly gone down. Entrapta killed it when she, Glimmer, and Mermista showed up in an SUV to transport the unconscious Adora back to the base. Scorpia literally stuffed her in an alley and loitered outside waiting for the others to drive over. It’s the Fright Zone – anyone who saw something untoward going down quickly looked the other way.

Chapter 4: Immortal Boys Club

Scorpia grew up in the Horde and never knew anything different. Her mother’s, however, were forced into it. When Scorpia regenned in their apartment, they had no clue what was happening, but they knew that the Horde thought she was dead and they had to use the opportunity. They finally told her every horrible thing the Horde had done that they had hidden from her so she wouldn’t be in constant emotional agony over what she was serving, and then they smuggled her from the city. A few days later, Shadow Weaver called them into a meeting, at which point they were captured and tortured for weeks before one of them finally broke and admitted they smuggled Scorpia away, but they insisted the Horde would never see her again. Shadow Weaver killed her for insubordination. She continued to torture her wife, trying to get her to admit Scorpia’s location now she knew she was out there, but she wouldn’t admit anything. She didn’t actually know where Scorpia ended up after she escaped anyway. She spent months in the cells before she died in her sleep from a combination of injuries, the stress to her body over time, and a lack of will to go on. She and her wife were both dumped down the body chute, where Catra was eventually tossed in Chapter 6.

Yes, Entrapta does consider disabling tech killing it.

The Alliance really wasn’t worried about showing Adora their faces. They already believed Adora, but even if she was lying/spying, most of them are pretty old and don’t have mortals into their lives they have to worry about if they were exposed. Entrapta and Frosta are the only ones who aren’t legally dead, and Entrapta can’t do much with her legal identity considering she doesn’t look anything approaching the 40 she’s supposed to be.

Hint #5 is basically the same as hint #2, when Adora brings up immortals only dating each other. She draws the incorrect conclusion that this is because they can’t stand losing someone mortal, but I can’t make things too easy on y’all.

Shadow Weaver was mad because: a) Adora’s phone tracker never came back online, b) she listened to the tapes and now “knew” that Catra wasn’t her soulmate since they had clearly been together already, and c) Adora respawned at Catra’s apartment, indicating that Catra was her home. Which is good as far as using her as a hostage goes, but Shadow Weaver was annoyed by Adora’s dedication to her not-soulmate because it seemed to fly in the face of the rules she knew of for immortals (thus implying she didn’t fully understand it, an implication she resented).

Chapter 5: Truth Hurts

Bow and Mermista exchange a glance when Adora asks if she should wake up with Catra because they’re both thinking about the inevitable change when Adora meets her soulmate.

Scorpia didn’t know for certain that her mothers were dead when she returned to the Fright Zone. She knew they likely were, but she was hoping that since they hadn’t tried to desert themselves, Shadow Weaver would let them live, even if she knew they were likely tortured. When she returned, however, she found everything they had once owned long reclaimed by creditors or stolen and that none of the few people in their personal life outside of the Horde had seen them in years.

Scorpia stayed away for so long only because her mothers insisted on it and she swore to obey them. She didn’t even know for sure the Horde ever discovered she had lived, she just stopped receiving letters from her mothers and knew the likely answer as to why. She also tried calling them despite how they made her swear not to (so as not to be discovered/tracked for her own safety) and found their phone line had been disconnected.

Scorpia was hoping that they would somehow find her moms alive and well and they could move into the spare bedroom that became Adora’s, though she knew it wasn’t likely.

The different nature of love between soulmates is actually a metaphor for the inherently different way lesbians experience love in a world openly hostile to their kind of love/sexuality. People joked about gays being immortals in the comments but that’s… kind of the answer. Yes, queer people’s different relationship with love and sexuality doesn’t give us superpowers, but it does give us an understanding to a world outside of cishet’s people experience of the world, analogous to the broader experience that living a long time affords. Immortality is a metaphor for the queer experience.

Mermista said at the start of this chapter that there are no hard and fast “rules” to being immortal, a sentiment Adora then promptly forgot the moment Perfuma said Catra couldn’t be her soulmate. The truth is that it’s all a balance, and if you didn’t get enough time to be happy with your soulmate, then you regenerate when you die.

Chapter 6: Death of a Bachelor

Initially Catra was supposed to cling on to life for awhile, finally passing on when she was thrown down the body shoot (I referred to this in the outline as “meeting Scorpia’s mothers” since they were down there too), but I really didn’t want to extend the suffering since it was already a lot.

Shadow Weaver left Catra’s body on the floor of her office as she ranted and raved to other lackeys for awhile so she could watch it to be sure it didn’t vanish, but the bodies tend to linger and delay regenerating when there is someone looking at them. Basically, she needed to turn around and look back, which she never did before she couldn’t stand seeing Catra’s body anymore (she wasn’t remorseful, and she was in fact still incensed, but at the same time it was hard seeing the body of the girl she projected so much on) so she called someone in to grab it and dump her down the chute.

Shadow Weaver then came to regret this decision within an hour, paranoid that Catra had regenerated the moment that she took her eyes off of her. The people who dragged her to the chute assured SW that she was dead and no one could survive that fall anyway, but Shadow Weaver immediately set to reviewing all devices monitoring anywhere she thought Catra might regenerate, checking her apartment, their old bunk, and Adora’s apartment. She didn’t know about the blanket in the van, but even if she did, she doesn’t understand how emotional ties work for most people or that Catra wouldn’t want to regenerate in a) the center of the hell that had been torturing them, b) her girlfriend who abandoned hers bed, or c) her apartment and the bed that she last shared with her girlfriend before she betrayed her. As a result, she never would have suspected Catra regenerating on the blanket even if she knew about it. She scrubbed through all the footage from every camera in the headquarters that day, but as Catra never emerged from the back of the van, she never spotted her and was satisfied that Catra really was a mortal that Adora latched onto as a substitute for her soulmate.

The body chute is a reference to an actual body chute at the abandoned Waverly Hills Hospital where they would drag dead bodies out of sight of other patients. The one the Horde uses is an old tunnel that leads down into an abandoned tank below ground where the old factory used to tap into the sewer system before it was abandoned. It’s a long drop to where the bodies pile up, and some have been down there for a decade or more. When the raid takes place, it takes them a few days before they find the chute and realize there are bodies down there, eventually going on a mission to recover them. Most of them remained unidentified, though they were able to match some of them with DNA or dental records.

Chapter 7: Lone Wolf

The Horde Trio finding out went like this: On Saturday, Kyle avoided the hell out of Shadow Weaver because she was on a warpath. That night, Kyle told Rogelio and Lonnie what he did and Lonnie was like “oh my god you’re stupid” and Rogelio was like “you’re stupid and I love you.” Basically, they both agreed with what he did but they were like this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. They were glad they didn’t have to make the choice themselves.

On Sunday morning, Lonnie wandered up to Shadow Weaver and asked if she could have Catra’s bike (which was currently taking up room in the headquarters’ garage). Shadow Weaver didn’t want to see the reminder of the traitor, so she basically said “fine” and waved her off. Lonnie said she thinks the keys were on Catra’s body (causing Shadow Weaver to instantly tense up given her hang-ups over Catra’s body). She then says the spare key was probably at her apartment, and that they should salvage it for any useful gear anyway. Shadow Weaver glared at her, but gave them permission to do so.

All three of them went over that afternoon and collected all the gear and money they could find, as well as anything they could claim as mementos of the five of them from before Adora turned and Catra died. They then brought the hybrid gear and half the money back to the headquarters, with Lonnie claiming she kept the stuff useful to her (weapons both she and Catra used, bodygear she could fit into, etc). They also said that since Catra’s money was made on their heists, they should get half of it now she was gone (1/6 for Adora, 1/6 for Catra, 1/6 for Shadow Weaver’s cut all would go to SW now, and then 1/6 for each of the trio would go to them). Shadow Weaver truly did not give a shit at that point except that the Horde had taken a hit to finances recently, so they gave her 4/6ths. They brought the remaining cash to the hotel that evening with her other things.

As discussed later in the fic, Adora has no idea how to cooking anything due to growing up on microwave meals with the other street kids. She isn’t experienced with kitchen mandolins. Mermista was trying to teach her how to cook (by which I mean Adora started an attempt to cook while Mermista was chilling at the kitchen counter and Mermista was like “what the hell are you doing” and then proceeded to neg her while scattering in corrections/advice) but she didn’t get up from the counter and show her exactly how to use it and Adora accidentally sliced like a centimeter off the tip of her finger. It wouldn’t stop bleeding and she was feeling faint so Mermista was just like “Regen” and Adora was like yep makes sense since I’m blacking out anyway.

Chapter 8: Drag-along

Mermista “looking considering” in the first scene is the exact moment she began to suspect that they could both be soulmates still, given what Adora just said about being punished for expressing affection.

Catra knew the Horde had abandoned the location because she was checking it in anticipation of Adora showing up.

Angella can’t be a regular historian because at least the sanitizing is done with lower stakes when it’s art history, and there’s things she knows are factually wrong but the academic sources were destroyed so she would just start tearing her hair out trying not to be like “I know because I was there!” and it’s best she just doesn’t deal with any of that. She has lived a thousand lives and been many things, but art historian is her current path.

Adora’s a lot more casual about dying now than she was when Shadow Weaver made her plans hinge on it because 1) she’s had more time to get used to the idea of being immortal, 2) she understands a lot more about how it works now, assuring her that she will actually come back, 3) she knows that if she did fight Catra on it, she wouldn’t force her into it, although she might drop her off on a street corner blindfolded, 4) poison is a lot less violent of a death. She knows that she’s still killing herself by drinking it, but it isn’t the same as being locked in a vault with a gun, knowing that pulling the trigger is your only way out.

Chapter 9: Rendezvous

The Wastelanders are of course a reference to the Crimson Wastes and a loose collection of criminal gangs banding together to pool resources and drive off others.

Chapter 10: A Little Messed Up (like you)

Chapter title is from the song “A Little Messed Up” by june.

There’s a whole backstory to the necklace I ended up cutting because it was tangential, it’s weird that Catra even knew it, and it broke up the flow. However, the story is this: It sold for 12 million at an auction two years ago, and then not long after, the person who bought it died under mysterious circumstances. Their estate has been tied up in an investigation ever since. The moment it cleared, the person who inherited the necklace put it up for sale. It was expected to go for upwards on 14 million at auction. The person who inherited the estate murdered the original owner for their wealth, including the necklace.

Catra took a loss for the necklace because she was selling it illegally and can’t provide authentication, especially on such a short time frame. Eddie has to make his profit selling it to his buyer too. He doesn’t even have one lined up at the moment considering how tight the timeframe was, he just knows he’ll be able to find one.

The little scar on Catra’s right hand was from when Catra, who had been favoring her left up until that point, was forced to use her right hand as her dominant one to conform with Horde standards (Shadow Weaver wasn’t about to get her left-handed scissors, never mind special equipment). She wasn’t as dexterous with her right hand during the transition period despite being mildly ambidextrous, and she accidentally gave herself a bad cut on her palm that Shadow Weaver wouldn’t “waste” medical supplies on since the injury was “her own fault” and thus it ended up scarring noticeably despite having much more mundane origins than some of her others.

Catra tenses when Adora first drapes over her during the smut because she suddenly felt a bit suffocate, but Adora pulled back and let her adjust, which lets her relax again.

Okay, so I wrote the majority of the chapter on the 27th, then moved on and kept writing and editing. I came back to this chapter multiple times (specifically the scene in the car) to keep it consistent with the other edits I was making to hammer out the arc of their relationship. Finally, on the 3rd, I came back to do my final edit and post it. When I got to the end of the chapter, the final scene just wasn’t there. I was so confused. I went back into my version history, and found literally ten minutes after writing the scene (with totaled 1k), I somehow accidentally deleted it, because it disappeared between versions with everything else inexplicably intact. Luckily I was able to go back and recover it. I love the scene and it established some things important for the Alliance to know before Bow’s shooting, but I’m still confused about what happened.

This chapter ended up with a quite different set-up than it was intended to. Below is the original outline.

[Adora is shocked when catra materializes over her shoulder and hands her a slushie. “What is this” “just drink it” “did you poison it” “obviously”. Adora looks at her for a moment, and then she drinks it. catra takes her hand and leads her towards the park. They walk around it, hand in hand, almost like a date, until adora starts stumbling. Catra leads her out of the park, towards a car. “just a bit further, princess”] [adora wakes up and cuddles the hell out of catra. Catra misses her] [“the last poison tasted awful”. “I got a new one” “aw, for me?” “no” she snaps. Sighs. “Yes”. “Take me out again some time?” “im taking you out right now” she responds and hands her the glass]

Okay, I obviously changed things. They were less enemies at this point than I initially planned, and the consensual drugging felt iffy to me anyway (I certainly wasn’t going to have any smut in this chapter when it was a plot point, because I didn’t want those two events anywhere close to each other) so I cut that entire beat and replaced it with another blindfolded Swift Wind drive (which also allowed me to have them talk around the drive – part of Catra’s initial reasoning for the drugging was to avoid talking, but then they were going to do it during the cuddling anyway).

Chapter 11: The Scarlet Ibis Job

Knifepoint is really an example of the way a hero loves versus the way a villain does. There’s a great post about it somewhere on Tumblr, and it kept popping up into my head when I wrote some of Catra’s lines.

The hotel’s name is all thanks to @malachi-walker. I wanted a name that referenced the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas (due to its ties to the mob & Bugsy Siegel’s murder) and was struggling to come up with a suitable bird. Scarlet Ibises look kinda similar to Flamingos (not that you would confuse them, but that they have visual similarities).

Speaking of, the title of this chapter is a reference to the show “Leverage”, where all the episode titles were “The [blank] Job” (EX: “The Juror #6 Job”).

Chapter 12: Soulmates

The words that Catra says to herself and label as “Shadow Weaver’s words” are from throughout the story. You can find her thinking or saying them in earlier chapters, and Shadow Weaver says a lot of them pretty casually in Chapter 6. EX: CH8: “She was willing to leave everything behind to join them, planning to haul Catra around like a stray she expected to follow her anywhere.”

If someone had died in the fire, Catra wouldn’t have lost her immortality. Basically, if you kill someone on accident, then it doesn’t happen. Everything is a balancing act with immortality, though, so it isn’t just that simple. If you hurt someone knowing that it could directly lead to their death (IE shooting them in the leg and they bleed out, even if it’s a “non-fatal” shot), then their death will “count as murder” and you’ll lose your immortality because you were reckless with their life. However, if you’re driving and someone walks in front of your car, you never had any intention to hit/hurt them, and their death doesn’t count. Especially the longer from the initial action their death is (aka you shoot them in the shoulder with a rubber bullet, which somehow leads to complications like a blood clot that cause their death years later) the less likely you are to lose your immortality because of it.

Because Catra had taken every precaution she could and was actively trying not to hurt people and to protect them, any accidental deaths wouldn’t have led to her losing her immortality. However, if she had been uncaring and, say, set the house on fire without sweeping it and someone died, even if they weren’t in the house but ran in after the fact to help, they would count as murders because she was purposefully being reckless and uncaring with life, well aware there could be someone else inside who died. Intent and the amount of recklessness are important factors. It’s like karma.

Adora ducked into a nearby alley and ran. Grizzlor got out of his car to chase her down, but it took too long and she escaped. During this, bystanders saw and were watching Catra’s body, which prevented her from regenerating. Grizzlor then quickly returned and threw her body in the trunk. All the upper level captains had been told that Adora defected and was to be captured and never killed if found so they could interrogate her and learn what she had given up. Catra they were told had been killed for helping Adora defect, but her body was inappropriately disposed of before it could be verified that she was dead, so if she was spotted, to attempt to arrest her and interrogate her if possible.

Grizzlor was actually aiming for Adora, attempting to incapacitate her, but Catra got in the way and took the bullet. They had been explicitly instructed that if one of them did die, their bodies were to be taken back to Shadow Weaver so she could personally verify their death and that they should never take their eyes off their bodies because the Alliance uses heart-rate slowing poisons to fake their deaths to escape custody (the lie Shadow Weaver told the Horde at large to cover up immortality). Because they didn’t know this really meant you can’t take your eyes off them for even a second, Grizzlor threw Catra’s body in the trunk and fucking booked it. The cops were already nearby from the explosion and he needed to get to headquarters. He called Shadow Weaver on the way and she screamed at him, since it was basically now confirmed that Catra was an immortal. Sure enough, she was waiting when Grizzlor pulled into the Horde, and upon opening the trunk, they found it empty. Shadow Weaver stabbed her knife right through the lid of his trunk. She would have stabbed him if her lackeys weren’t already waning in loyalty/availability/number already due to the Horde losing power and sources to supply them.

Chapter 13: The Matriarch

Sea Hawk made French toast for everybody and then Frosta insisted on having him put cinnamon sugar on hers. Mermista: “That is not how the French do it.” Frosta, with a cold, dead stare: “Viva la révolution.”

Angella was the daughter of a merchant in the Roman Republic in around 200 BCE. I’m not a history expert, so forgive me for getting this wrong, but Angella had lived in many places over many centuries and changed her name as appropriate to accommodate them. She chose her last name of Proserpine in the modern era as a nod to her heritage. Proserpine was the Roman version of Persephone, but only grew to replace the previous goddess of Libera in the beginnings of the century 200 BCE. As such, Angella was familiar with both, but authorities considered Proserpine a more respectable figure of worship for women. Angella considers herself as Libera, an ancient relic dressed up in the robes of Proserpine (pretending to be a normal mortal) to make herself acceptable to the world around her.

Bow refers to her as “Dr. Proserpine” because she and his dads work together and so he was used to referring to her that way in the academic setting.

The scene with Angella greeting everyone was inspired by the vibe of when the entire family gathers to greet a relative who is visiting from out of town.

It is possible to transition after becoming immortal, just more difficult. Because a lot of the methods used are relatively new and there are so few immortals (and thus very few trans immortals), there’s a lot less known about transitioning compared to things like changing weights or growing hair. It doesn’t take eight years of HRT to lock that in as your body’s “natural state”, but no one assumed their body would just adapt like that, so it took them a long time to notice.

Factors include a) how long/if they were taking the med/had it in their system when they did for the first time, b) how often and in what concentrations it is in the system at the time of death/regen, c) how long and often it is in the system between regens, so as to “trick” the body into thinking it is supposed to be there (this factor especially means having to go longer between regens, because if you’re only alive for 2 days, then the drug can only be in your system for 2 days and it’s hard for your body to accept as natural). Generally, it has to be been in the system for a long time – years – for the body to accept it and naturally produce it.

In the next chapter Catra speculates that Angella asked about Adora’s death to justify killing Shadow Weaver to herself, which is partially true, but it is a question she tends to ask immortals to offer them space to talk about it with someone. They can’t exactly go to traditional therapy for it, so Angella has kind of been the best thing they had.

Chapter 14: Her Love’s Like A Funeral

The title for this chapter is from/inspired by Funeral by Meg Myers.

Angella just wanted to be with Micah and live normally. I know some people won’t consider Angella’s arc as a “happy end” but it is happy because she is happy. She has lived a long time. She’ll get to grow old with the love of her life and watch her daughter grow into a young woman – what could be happier than that?

I’ll be blunt: I had some plans for an epilogue for this fic, but I got sick the day I posted chapter 12 and struggled to write. I was sick for an entire week (actually, longer, but I was unable to write for a week) and totally lost my steam for the fic. I had already written chapter 13, so I managed to finish off Chapter 14 as I intended, but I just didn’t have the motivation for an epilogue anymore and writing it wouldn’t have been fun for me because of that. Below are some of the ideas/scenes that I wanted to cover as a kind of extended look at their life beyond the fic.

Angella stays for an additional few days, beginning to turn over her network/empire to Glimmer slowly (over many years). She’s lived far too long to share everything before she goes, but she keeps lots of records, and Glimmer replaces her as the head of the network with plans to one day train a protégé to carry on in her place, ensuring her mother’s legacy and that immortals have continued support through the decades.

The Alliance – and Catra – always make jokes about Catra and Adora going to Catra’s place when they have screaming sex. Catra maintains her basement as a base and fallback locations for regeneration. They do go there when they really want to let loose, but they primarily stay at the penthouse. Adora and Catra both like staying somewhere with windows to let in light now they have that option, but the basement is a secure place for them.

Catra finally told Adora about everything that happened while she was in the cells a few weeks after the fic ends, after they watched a news report about the investigation into the Horde earlier that day. It was emotional and Adora petted through her hair as she finally learned about Catra cutting it to stop Shadow Weaver from dragging her around by it. Catra takes one look at Entrapta’s calendar for growing back out her hair and goes “yeah, no”.

Catra one day just, like, realizes that she’s immortal and suddenly goes on a tear eating all the foods that are toxic to her that she has never gotten to eat. They won’t actually kill her, but she doesn’t have to suffer through the aftereffects when she can just reset. She tries chocolate – isn’t a fan, which then sets the Alliance on a quest to find The One Chocolate She Will Like which resolves on a different day – eats human ice cream, pastries, baked goods, pasta, etc. It takes her a while to work through all the foods she has always wanted to try and she finds she likes the savory carbs well enough but not the sweet stuff so much as she never developed a taste for it. Adora finds it all very amusing and supports Catra through her candy rampage. Afterwards Catra is like “I can’t fucking believe you eat that shit all the time” despite how it doesn’t make Adora feel trash like it does for Catra.

The “I know the chocolate that Catra will actually like” competition is held literal weeks later because some of the chocolate had to be flown in from fucking Switzerland and shit. Everyone in the Alliance put forth one chocolate and the one that Catra likes best becomes the winner. Catra blind tastes each chocolate without knowing a) what the wrapper looks like (though Adora has a card with all the flavors so Catra will be forewarned and not dislike one because it surprises her with a nougat center or something), b) how expensive it is/where it’s from, or c) who selected it for her. The competition is fierce just because they’re all like that.

Perfuma puts forth her own homemade chocolate which is her attempt at basically making a magicat edible (none exist since magicats can’t have chocolate or weed lmao). It includes alcohol and catnip (though catnip isn’t a drug to magicats, it does help them relax, as other herbs do in humans) (if you haven’t read previous fics, alcohol effects magicats similar to how catnip effects cats). Catra knows who’s chocolate that is even during the blind taste test because of the homemade aspect. It comes in third place because she doesn’t like the idea of getting drunk/high while eating, but it is good.

First place goes to Adora, because she knows Catra’s palette better than anyone, and while some others do figure out the “she doesn’t like sugar” thing, they just can’t match her tastes. Mermista got her a super fancy dark chocolate from Europe, convinced it was the best in the world, but it’s not going to be Catra’s taste – which is, by the way, a dirt-cheap grocery store dark chocolate. Catra used to live on the street. That fancy shit isn’t what she’s acclimatized to. The others accuse Adora of cheating and consider Entrapta the “unofficial” winner since competing against Catra’s soulmate is unfair anyway. Entrapta got second place with a mid-dark sea salt chocolate that appeals to Catra’s more savory tastes.

Angella gets them all matching loungewear outfits in varying pastel & neon shades for Christmas one year, like a mom getting everyone matching sweaters. They all have a rhinestone letter on the back spelling out “THE ALLIANCE” on the back. They need one more person, which Angella says can be Frosta’s soulmate when the time come (Frosta pulls a face) but for now Angella takes an ‘A’ and Micah takes the photo of all of them wearing them. T – Perfuma. H – Scorpia. E – Glimmer. A – Angella. L – Bow. L – Sea Hawk. I – Mermista. A – Adora. N – Frosta. C – Catra. E – Entrapta.

Entrapta is insistent that her ‘E’ is the finale e of “Alliance” and not “The” despite Angella having set it up so she can be next to her girlfriends. No one knows why Entrapta decided that, but Entrapta just knows her e is the last one and considers it “misspelling” when they try to arrange her next to Perfuma and Scorpia, so everyone goes along with it (yes, this is what the ND experience is like).

Despite Catra’s insistence on staying solo, she quickly starts tagging along on some jobs after Adora makes puppy eyes at her. She still does solo jobs (or occasionally small jobs with just Adora) and she resists being an official part of the Alliance for awhile, but one day she realizes that the plan has just assumed that she’ll be joining them without asking for the first time. And then she’s like “I’m not part of the Alliance” and everybody Looks at her and she grumbles and tucks into Adora’s side but she goes on the job. She doesn’t join all their jobs, and she appreciates being asked, but she’s satisfied as long as she maintains her freedom and side jobs as well.

Angella has a few safehouses around the world (that she passes on to Glimmer, and the penthouse is amongst them). After about a few years, the Alliance packs up and moves cities. They actually settle down a bit there, only pulling jobs occasionally, before they move again and go on a tear. They have all the time in the world, so they ebb and flow. At one point Perfuma semi-retires to teach yoga again for four years before getting back in the game, just chasing whatever interests her. At times the Alliance decentralizes (living in separate apartments and working/living more independently) but they often come back together after awhile because they’re all friends and kinda adrenaline junkies lol.

Angella and Micah die old holding each other like in the notebook.

Original Outline:

This fic followed my outline pretty closely. Some things ended up taking longer than I thought or being moved up to the chapter before, but overall, it was pretty true to form. I would say that they were supposed to be more antogonistic towards each other at first after separating, fighting a bit more about Adora leaving and Catra not wanting to, but it just didn’t fit once I reached that point.

Initially the first 5 chapters were supposed to take place over a more stretched out timeline, with Adora joining the Alliance and slowly beginning to see how awful the Horde was once she was on the outside and could a) see all they were doing and b) that it didn’t have to be like that. Adora comforted herself with the fact that all the criminals in the Fright Zone were like the Horde when she was in it, but that simply wasn’t true. They were a special kind of evil.

However, doing this would mean drawing things out to a point that just felt unnecessary, especially once I started writing and was able to show that growing distance and tension between Catra and Adora anyway. Adora was supposed to truly be undercover, then slowly grow to feel at home with the Alliance. She was going to be surprised when she suddenly regenerated with the Alliance. They would then throw a “welcome to the family” party, meanwhile the whole time Adora was worrying about the Horde finding out, which of course they had. Shadow Weaver would then order the kidnapping.

During the kidnapping, Catra was supposed to “interrogate” Adora a bit, both trying to determine if she had defected and kind of slipping her information as she spoke about what Shadow Weaver knew and suspected so Adora could try to lie around it. She failed to do so when Shadow Weaver came to her in the cell, she was tortured, and the screams haunted Catra just like they did in the fic. She then slipped in to free her. Adora’s death was supposed to be a lot more brutal. Catra was supposed to kill her with her claws because she had already turned over the poison pills to Shadow Weaver.

The rest of the circumstances changed before I wrote it, but I actually did write this version of Adora’s death and it was just too gruesome and dark, so I went back and edited it. Using the pills also let Adora justify to herself that Catra was able to free her secretly and thus didn’t face retribution for it, because if she thought Catra was still trapped there and being tortured she would have run right back after regenerating elsewhere.

Meta:

Extra #1: Shadow Weaver

Extra #2: Soulmates, Angella, & Micah

Extra #3: Death counts

Fic Notes #2: Timeline

Other meta: The Horde’s structure, Entrapta’s overalls, Adora’s dress in CH11, platonic soulmates.

What’s next?:

My next AU is Lullaby of the Drowned, a siren/pirate AU! I’ll start working on it now Knifepoint is done and should begin posting it any time in the next week or two.

#knifepoint #ficmeta #fic notes

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seaofghouls · 3 years

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Resident Evil Village WKM AU

PART 1

Taglist: Nobody. Comment to be tagged!

Warnings: Bullets, Guns, Monsters, Tranquilizers, Blood, Gore, Descriptions of serious injuries, ect.

The stuff you'd see in Resident Evil. ------

“Long ago, a young girl went to pick berries for her father who was hard at work. The forest greeted them with a dark, cold silence. The bushes empty. Yet, determined to find the berries, the little rascal broke free of mother’s grasp and vanished into the trees. Mother’s worried cries faded fast as the girl ran on, over vine and under branch and into the forest deep.

Feeling strange eyes upon her, the girl recalled mother’s scary tales and her throat became bone dry. Then the bat lord appeared. He greeted her warmly and bit his own wing. “Come child, quench your thirst.” He said. So she drank the thick dark blood and smiled with joy. Passing through the graveyard, menacing storm clouds loomed and the air turned bitingly cold. The girl was shivering in her thin clothes.

Then, a Dark Weaver appeared and with a click of his fingers, crafted mist into a beautiful dress. “Come child, warm yourself.” He coaxed. So she clothed herself and smiled with joy. Across waters deep and ominous she went, hoping a boat she found would take her home. But hunger’s grip tightened and her hunger grew heavy.

Then, the fish king appeared and offered one of his many fins. “Come child, eat your fill.” So the girl ate and smiled with joy once again. Continuing on, she soon entered the forest’s dark heart. Then an Iron Steed appeared, bearing a beautiful, golden gear. The creature said nothing as the girl approached.. And snatched what she thought was another gift.

The horse grew angry and summoned the other monsters. Terror filled the girl’s heart as a wild wind rose around the beasts. Suddenly, a witch appeared! Dark, yet regal. “Gift we gave, but more you took.” She snarled. In a blink, the girl was trapped in a mirror, forever.” “There, she’s asleep.” He finished, holding a baby.

“What is with the creepy story? She’s only six months old. Especially the part about being trapped in a mirror.” Y/N asked with a huff.

“The woman at the store said it was traditional. A local tale. Besides, Rose doesn’t seem to mind.” Damien gestured at the sleeping baby in his arms.

“Because she doesn’t understand it, thank god.” Y/N sighed.

“We moved here so she wouldn’t have to deal with that, remember?” Y/N frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory.” Damien slightly snapped.

“Maybe I’m being paranoid. I’m just cautious, y’know?” Y/N said.

“Then, go cautiously take your daughter to bed.” Damien smiled, handing them the baby.

“I’ll finish dinner.” Damien gave Y/N and Rose both a kiss on the head.

“It’s alright, Rose. Your father doesn’t want to remember. I can’t blame him.” Y/N mumbled.

“Did you say something, dear?” Damien called out.

“Nope! I’ll put her to sleep.” Y/N called back.

Y/N carried Rose up the stairs and into her room.

Setting her into the crib, Y/N smiled. “Don’t worry Rose, I’ll be right downstairs. I won’t let those scary fairytale monsters get you.”

Y/N gave her a kiss and walked back down the stairs.

“Is she doing alright?” Damien asked as Y/N walked back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, she’s sleeping like a- well, a baby.” Y/N giggled.

“Mm, smells good. What is that?” Y/N asked, referring to the meal that Damien was cooking.

“It’s clorba de legume, a local recipe.” Damien said.

“Wow, you’ve gone full native, huh?” Y/N smiled.

“Local wine, too.” Damien smirked.

“If you’re going to be grumpy all evening, maybe you shouldn’t have any~.” Damien teased.

Y/N sighed as Damien poured wine into two glasses.

“You really need to stop worrying.” Damien said.

“It’s just.. Everything happened so fast, y’know? It’s a bit stressful.” Y/N frowned.

“Well, at least we’re all here together.” Damien gave a small smile.

“You, me, Rose, now everything’s going to be-” Y/N interrupted him.

“Seriously? You think we can just forget what happened in Louisiana?” Y/N asked.

“It happened so long ago. I just- I don’t understand why you are so-” Damien was interrupted by a bullet.

In his shoulder.

And then, what seemed to be hundreds more lodged into him.

“Damien!” Y/N cried. The lights were cut out, the blood was everywhere.

There was no coming back from that.

“Damien-! Oh god.” Y/N cried.

Hiding under the table, Y/N was covering their mouth as they looked up to see who did this.

“Abe?! What the hell?” They barked.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Abe shot at Damien’s body more.

“No! What?! Why?!” Y/N sobbed.

“Ghk-!” Y/N gasped out as they were shot with tranquilizer darts.

----

Y/N slowly cracked their eyes open with a groan as they heard a phone going off. They lurched over to unburry it and answered it.

“Is the package secure?” The other end asked.

“What the hell is going on here? Where is Abe and Rose?” Y/N demanded.

“You are not authorized to-” The phone cut out.

“Curses!” They spit.

They began to walk around, turning on their flashlight that they had.

Crows were hung from the trees and the van had crashed.

They found a house and decided to explore it. Nothing of use on the main floor.

Or in the house for that matter. Just blood stains and a trashed home.

“..What did all of this?” Y/N sighed.

By the time they got out, it was morning. They’d never been so happy to see daylight. God, that house was creepy.

“Where the hell am I?” Y/N questioned, looking at the giant castle ahead.

Walking into the town below, it was abandoned. It was utterly trashed and empty. They ran into a man hiding inside a house. He shoved a gun into their hands.

“It’s all I can spare.” He said.

“What the hell’s out there?!” Y/N pleaded, but got no answer before whatever was outside grabbed the man through the roof. They fell through the floorboards into a bit of bodies.

“Aghk-!” They cried.

“Oh god.” They cried.

Bodies littered the floor.

“..Jesus Christ.” They muttered.

“Agh-!” They howled in pain as a beast attacked them, tearing off three of their fingers.

They were thrown out of the basement into the open world, their hand bleeding out, missing fingers.

“What the hell was that?!” They cried.

“N-no! Stay back!” Y/N pulled out the gun the old man had given them and started shooting at the beast. It fell over and bled out after a few shots.

They realized they were trapped. They decided to look around the village for any keys to open the locked gates or ways out. They were able to cut the lock open on the gate blocking them with lock cutters and other various items they found around the village of death.

They heard a radio announcement about traveling to Luiza’s house for safety, so they decided to do that while picking up useful items that they ran into.

The beasts were everywhere. They were able to wrap their bleeding hand in bandages they found. They had quite a few close calls including the beasts.

They got cornered and tumbled into a lake while bleeding out surrounded by monsters before they all stopped all of a sudden and ran off when an old woman seemingly saved them.

“W-wait!” They tried to chase after the lady.

She went off on a tangent with a creepy smile. “The bell tolls for us all! They’re coming again!” She closed the gate.

“Damn it.” Y/N cussed.

The only part that Y/N was paying attention to was the fact that their daughter was in the village.

“I’ve got to find her.” Y/N said.

They continued to travel through the village, shooting at monsters. Damien’s death was still heavy on their mind.

They found a daughter and father in a shed. They found a way to get them inside and close the gate. Luiza greeted the three at the front door, albeit with a man pointing a gun at them before Luiza shooed him off.

“You’re not from this village, are you?” Luiza questioned.

“Uhm, no. I’m Y/N.” They said.

“If Elena trusts you, then so do I. Come inside, Y/N.” Luiza said.

Luiza led them to the main part of the house where the others were hiding.

They certainly did not get a warm welcome.

“There is no safe! Every sorry person out there has been ripped in half!” A man cried, his alcohol swishing from side to side from inside the bottle.

“That’s enough.” Luiza declared.

“Let us pray for those still out there.” She said.

They all joined in a circle, praying to whatever god there was out there.

Y/N started to get a bit freaked out when the old man they had helped inside started laughing and screaming in agony. The house was lit on fire after he knocked over a lit lantern.

People started to crowd the old man asking if he was okay or what was going on.

Y/N gasped as they realized. He was no longer human. He was one of the monsters.

“Oh no.”

He slaughtered almost everyone in the main room as Y/N took Elena’s hand and ran into the hall away from the fire and the beast.

“Elana, we have to go!” They yelled.

“Let them go!” Elana cried, shooting her dad in the head as he was on top of Y/N.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry father.” Elena whispered after she shot him a second time.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. That thing wasn’t your father anymore. You did the right thing.” Y/N comforted Elena.

The beast groaned and garbled as floorboards fell on top of it causing more fire to spread. Y/N slammed the door he was in and comforted Elena as she cried.

“We’ve gotta get out of here. He was already gone.” Y/N patted her shoulder.

After looking for a while, Y/N found the truck keys.

“Damn, the fire’s moving fast. Elena, get in the truck with me.” They said.

They crashed through the wall using the truck.

The fire surrounded them, Y/N bit their lip.

Looking up, they narrowed their eyes. “Nowhere to go but up.”

They helped Elena climb up with them.

“..Elena..” A garbled voice called out.

“Father?!” Elena ran towards him. Y/N tried to stop her but failed.

“Elena, wait! That’s not him!” Y/N cried.

The floorboards were cracking.

Elena ignored them.

“Elena, take my hand!” They ordered, holding out their hand to grab.

“Y/N, go! Save your daughter!” Elena cried.

“Elena, please! Don’t give up! Reach for me!” Y/N said.

Elena fell through the floorboards into the fiery abyss below.

“Damn it!” Y/N cussed.

“Why is everyone dying on me?!” Y/N cried through gritted teeth as they climbed out of the burning house.

Y/N saw the old lady again so they ran up to her.

“Death. Death has visited them all!” She cackled.

Y/N disregarded that. They accidentally walked into the gate of the castle. Digging into their bag, they realized that they had the two keys to open the door. Artifacts, the keys were.

They were about to pull the lever to the elevator when a voice stopped them after they had walked into the castle.

“Well, well. Didn’t think anyone was left! You must be pretty tough, huh?” He had a huge hammer, Y/N observed.

“Who the hell are you?” Y/N asked.

“Oh! You’re not local! Even better.” The man smirked.

“Aghk-!” Y/N groaned as a spear was jabbed into them from out of thin air.

“Mother Celine’s going to love you.” He laughed some more as more and more metals were attached to Y/N until they passed out.

…

They came back to consciousness as they were being dragged and in chains.

“Quit your whining! We’re almost there!” The man assured.

They closed their eyes again, opening them, hearing voices.

“The person is of no real use to anybody else.. And my children do so love entertaining foreigners. Furthermore, I can assure you if you entrust the mortal to enter house Iplier, my children and I shall deliver the finest of blood to you, the finest cups of his slaughtered blood.”

“Out of my way, ugly! I wanna see!”

Y/N was certain there was some deep sobbing mixed in there as well.

“Oh~! They’re awake!”

More deep sobbing.

“Both of you shut the hell up!”

“..What..? Where..?” Y/N started.

“You mean you’ll screw around with him in private? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Give him to me and I’ll put on a show that everyone can enjoy.”

“Oh, so gauche. What do we care for bread and circuses? The person’s suffering is assured, regardless.”

“Yack, yack, the person’s privates are cut off in the castle, blah blah blah!”

“I’ve heard all of your arguments. Some less persuasive than others, but.. I’ve made my decision.”

“Benjamin. The person’s fate lies in your hands.”

“Mother Celine, I must protest! Benjamin is but a child and his devotion to you is questionable. Give the mortal to me and I will ensure they are ready.”

“Shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.” Benjamin growled.

“Quiet now, child! Adults are talking!”

I’m the child? You’re the one arguing with Mother Celine’s decision!” Benjamin defended.

“You wouldn’t know responsibility if it was welded to that hammer!”

“Oh, keep growing, one day your head might actually fit your ego!” Benjamin yelled.

“..Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” Y/N groaned.

“Fight fight fight fight!”

“SILENCE!” Mother Celine cried.

“My decision is final. There will be no argument. Remember where you came from.” Mother Celine said.

“Thank you.” Benjamin said.

“Lycans and gentleman! We thank you for waiting! Now, let the games begin!” Benjamin announced.

He bent down to Y/N’s level.

“Let’s see what you’re really made of, Y/N Winters.” He smirked.

He slammed his hammer down in front of Y/N and started counting down.

Y/N got up and ran as fast as they could, still handcuffed. Down the yellow tinted corridor echoing the screams of the monsters. They saw a hole in the ground. Looking around, it was the only option. So, they did the only thing they could. They took the leap.

They ran and ran from the monsters when they landed.

“Agh! Jesus Christ!” They cried.

“That’s right! Run for your life!” Benjamin cackled.

----

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil au #wkm #who killed markiplier #wkm au #damien #celine #wkm damien #wkm celine #wkm district attorney #fanfic #x reader

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ticklishnonsense · 3 years

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say it (widomauk, sfw, 1k)

THE BOYS ARE FLIRTINGGGGGGG.

(tiny sequel to intricate rituals. caleb figures out that molly's in a lee mood before he does, and makes it Worse. no actual tickling in this one just so much flirting)

Mollymauk is acting… Odd.

Well. Odder than usual. Molly is an strange bird. When their small group first came to be, Caleb used to lie in the dark of an inn room next to Veth, trading increasingly implausible theories about the tiefling’s true motivations until they both fell asleep.

He makes a little more sense now that Caleb has figured out that Molly doesn’t really have true motivations, besides perhaps finding new and exciting drugs, and, once, recently, tickling Caleb to pieces. Which sends a little shiver through him just to think about, but that’s a thought for later. They’re wandering Zadash right now, wasting some time while everyone else loses all their gold at the Invulnerable Vagrant. It’s ten twenty-three in the morning, cool and dry but overcast, and Mollymauk looks all the brighter amongst the greys of the city.

Molly, who is a mischief-maker on any given day already, is in fine form this morning. He’s spent a significant part of their walk teasing Caleb about his fashion sense, punctuated with periodic pokes to Caleb’s sides. Each time, Caleb startles and then spends a panicked moment wondering if Molly’s going to try and tickle him in public. But no, Molly just shoots him a wicked smirk and moves on.

Suddenly, it strikes Caleb that they might be on a date.

Molly kissed him last week. They haven’t really talked about it yet. There wasn’t much privacy until they got into Zadash late last night. And mocking Caleb about his clothes seems like exactly the kind of thing Molly would do on a - are they on a date? Caleb hasn’t dated since he was a fumbling teenager, he doesn’t quite remember - he glances at Mollymauk out of the corner of his eye.

And of course Molly catches his gaze, because nothing can ever be easy, can’t it. His mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Yes, Caleb?”

“Er-”

As Caleb watches, Molly links his hands together, stretches his arms high over his head. When he’s done stretching, he hooks his hands behind his head, elbows up.

And then all the puzzle pieces fit together. The mischief sparkling in Molly’s red eyes. The sly pokes to Caleb’s side, followed by a sidelong glance that Caleb realizes now was expectant. The teasing, the lingering stretch. “Oh,” says Caleb aloud, surprised at the realization.

“Hmm?”

“You are in a mood.”

“Usually am,” Mollymauk agrees breezily. “I experience life in vivid color.”

“Ah, no, no.” Caleb shakes his head. “I mean-” He flutters his fingers in Molly’s direction. “You know.”

And then he watches, intrigued, as a whole journey of emotions plays out over Molly’s face within the length of a heartbeat. Genuine confusion. Surprise. More surprise, but now with a flick of his eyes towards Caleb. And then, a bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows quickly.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Molly says, smooth as anything. Hmm. He doesn’t realize that Caleb’s read him.

…When, exactly, did Caleb start being able to read him? Mollymauk used to be entirely a mystery. Nonplussed, Caleb files that thought away for later.

Hmm. Last time, Molly all but admitted he was ticklish. For the first time, Caleb thinks about turning the tables.

He thinks about Molly shaking with laughter under his hands. He thinks about rubbing his stubble into Molly’s neck. He thinks about working Molly over head to toe, cataloguing the places that make him shriek. He thinks about skittering his fingers over Molly’s ribs when he’s running his mouth, shutting him up for once.

Caleb is tempted, yes. But, even more than that, he is curious.

He has so terribly little self-control when he is curious.

“…Ah, Caleb? Are you in there, love?”

Molly has, in the meantime, put his arms down. Heh. Caleb puts his hands in the pockets of his coat. There’s a smile threatening to break across his face. Molly’s seen plenty of his smiles recently, so maybe it’s folly to hide it, but he manages. “Mm, just thinking. Shall I clarify my meaning?”

“Frankly, I’m not sure you can manage to get the word out, dear.”

“Ah,” says Caleb, “you do know what I’m talking about.”

Caught. But Molly is frustratingly unbothered. “It’s not a worry, I’m sure you’ve your own reasons for shyness.”

“Of course,” says Caleb, “just as you have your own reasons for stretching like that.”

Mollymauk cocks an eyebrow at him, totally unphased. “Aye, you seem to be quite fixed on it.”

“You are… Still provoking me,” Caleb says slowly.

“I usually am,” Molly tosses back, which, to be fair, is true. “That’s no clarification, unless you can manage to say what you’re referring to.”

Caleb has an inch or two on Mollymauk. He slouches, and Molly walks like he’s ten feet tall, so it isn’t obvious unless they’re standing next to each other. Or, perhaps, unless Caleb lifts his chin, looks down his nose at him, and says, “If you want to hear it that badly, I might.”

There. There’s the swipe of the tongue over the lips. Focus, Widogast. Push the advantage. Caleb reaches over, trails his fingertips down the soft underside of Molly’s forearm, and then fits his hand into Molly’s, slow, deliberate. He smooths his thumb over the underside of Molly’s wrist. Leans close.

“I believe,” Caleb murmurs, words puffing against Molly’s ear, “you very much want me to tickle you right now, don’t you.”

If he weren’t so close, he would miss the shiver.

Nailed it.

Caleb draws away and keeps walking. He does not let go of Molly’s hand.

“We should go back to the Leaky Tap,” Molly says abruptly.

“Why?” says Caleb idly.

“For the love of the Weaver, Caleb, this is your fault-”

“Why don’t you stretch again,” Caleb suggests.

“You’re a terror,” Mollymauk mutters, which is rather rich, considering. “We are going to go back to the Leaky Tap, and you, my dear wizard, are going to-”

“To?” Caleb prompts. While Molly’s stumbling, he adds, “Frankly, I am not sure you can manage to get the word out.”

“I,” says Molly, and then manages, “Let’s just go.”

“Indeed,” says Caleb, feeling unbearably smug, and goes.

#mine #cr #fic #mollymauk #caleb #widomauk #i listened exclusively to bubbly love songs while writing this

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usedtobe-angstyoikawa · 3 years

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Tanabata

Itadori Yuji x latinx!gn!reader

Summary: you’re from Latin America and end up moving to Japan (cause your whole family is fucking dead hehe sorry). You feel sad and homesick but Itadori tries his best to cheer you up.

Warnings: I’d say none?

a/n: just to clarify, I am from Latin America and I know not everyone here is loud and touchy but I am and this was kind of a self inserted fic cause I feel that if I had to move to Japan it’d be really hard to get used to the people and their culture in general. Like japanesse people are known for being closed off and distant mostly because they’re very respectful and well behaved, whereas in Latin America people are more outgoing and kind of rude to be honest. Idk I think it’s an interesting contrast between these two cultures and Itadori has a bit of both and I love him so yeah enjoy (also I didn’t proofread this I’m very sorry)

———————————————————————

Being a foreigner student in Japan wasn’t easy, specially coming from a place like Latin America with such a different culture. When Gojo sensei found you in the middle of a loosing battle against a curse back in your country, you never would’ve thought he’d save you and take you with him to the other side of the world. You were grateful though, thanks to him you got to meet amazing people that understood what loosing everyone you loved was like. People who gradually became your friends and helped you through your hardest days without expecting anything back. But you still missed your home, the food, the music and the people. Your people. Sometimes those thoughts made you feel guilty, but you couldn’t help but feel left out whenever Noraba made a reference about a tv show they all used to watch when they were kids, or when Megumi flinched and run away anytime you got too exited and accidentally raised your voice. Yuji was a great cook and would often make you try new dishes to cheer you up, but japanese food tasted so different to what you were used to it sometimes wasn’t comforting enough. You weren’t having a bad time but you definitely weren’t the happiest you’d ever been. You craved touch and warmth, you wanted to go dancing without being self conscious and stay up till sunrise.

The closest person to you was Yuji. You met him a few months after your arrival in Japan, apparently he’d been out on a ‘secret mission’ or at least that’s what Gojo had told you. The pink haired boy greeted you with a big smile and a lot of questions, you were surprised by his outgoing and warm personality at first but you immediately became good friends. You loved being around Yuji, he’d always let you hug him and didn’t seem to be affected by your voice volume. He reminded you of an old friend back home so it wasn’t hard to open up to him and tell him about your mixed feelings towards the cultural crash.

“I can’t say I get it ‘cause I totally don’t, I wasn’t forced to leave my country and leave behind everything I’ve known my whole life to try and start a new life on the other side of the world” he said while grabbing his chin and looking at the ceiling “ and I don’t think there’s a way to make you feel completely at home, I mean I can try recreating your country’s traditional dishes but I don’t wanna ruin that for you”

You’d tried that before but you could never find the right ingredients and there was always something missing, leaving you with and empty space in your chest. It seemed like every time you tried to do things to keep holding on to your culture the more distant you felt, as if the life you knew was forever lost.

“That’s it! We can go to the festival!” the boy next to you jumped and you stared at him wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Noraba didn’t tell you about it?” You shook your head no “This weekend starts the Tanabata festival, it was a chinese tradition at first but we’ve been celebrating it for a while. There’s gonna be a lot of food, cute decorations around the city and… oh!” Suddenly he was in front of you grabbing you by your shoulders “ WE HAVE TO MAKE A WISH”

And that’s how you ended up borrowing one of Nobara’s yukata and headed to the festival, Yuji right next to you. As soon as he saw you wearing the traditional clothes his face lit up and he grabbed your hand, dragging you to what he described as the best place in earth. Some of the second year students decided to tag along but you lost them in the crowd.

Yuji was right, it was fun. He showed you around and bought you different types of food, you played games and he told you about the japanese traditions. You slowly realized that maybe you’d judged his people wrong. Seeing kids running around, couples holding each other, and the dumb idiot’s bright smile made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Yes it was a different country, and yes the people there could be distant and a bit close minded, but they were also very nice and respectful, full of wisdom and spirituality.

Apparently it was this festival’s tradition to write down a wish on a colorful paper strip (tanzaku) and tie it onto a bamboo branch. The color you chose held a meaning and directed your wish towards it’s destination. You chose red, representing gratuity towards your parents and ancestors. Yuji chose yellow but he didn’t tell you what the color represented.

“You know there’s a Japanese legend my grandpa used to tell me every time during this festival” He said while you two walked down a path and heading to a bridge “Aparently there used to be two lovers, a cowherd and a weaver girl, that lived by a riverbank in China a long long long time ago. Before knowing each other they dedicated their time to their respective jobs, but once they got married they’d spend so much time together that they completely forgot about them. The girls father got so mad that he split the two lovers apart and exiled the boy to the other side of the river.” He stoped walking and you realized you’d reached the bridge and the two of you were now standing in the middle of it. “The girl cried and begged his father to let them see each other one more time and he agreed, allowing the lovers to meet every 7th of July. But when the date came they realized there was no way of crossing the river, ‘cause you know there was no bridge and they apparently didn’t know how to swim or maybe the tide was too strong and it would’ve been dangerous to…” he started rambling on about the possible ways the couple could’ve seen each other and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, making the boy blush. “Anyways, a bunch of birds I don’t remember what type exactly but they helped the girl cross the river and she was able to meet his lover. Now we throw our bamboo branches to the river so they reach the sea and the gods can find them and read our wishes, hopefully they’ll make them come true.”

“It’s a beautiful story” he nodded and kept looking down at the river. Together you threw your branches and watched them get carried away downstream by the current.

“My wish was yellow, it represents friendship. I usually choose the red paper like you did, I like to make wishes for my parents and my grandpa.” You listened intently, he rarely spoke about his parents. “This time I decided to be a bit selfish and wished for our friendship to last forever and for you to feel at home.” He turned to you and dug holes in your sole with his brown eyes.

You stood there silent, not knowing what to say or how to react. Your heart was beating fast and your eyes were getting wet, but there was this indescribable feeling beginning to settle in inside of your chest. Itadori moved closer to you and cupped your cheek with his cold hand, hot breath fanning over your face.

“I promise I’ll try my best to make you feel at home”

#jjk itadori #jjk headcanons #jjk #itadori yūji #yuji x reader #Yuji x gn!reader #Itadori Yuji x gn!reader #latinx #latin!gn!reader #Itadori Yuji x latinx!gn!reader #Japanese festival #japanesse culture #Latin American reader #itadori x reader

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Oldest and Newest

Damian tugged down his face mask as he looked out over Gotham city. He was finally here.

After two decades of anticipation, after nearly a decade of work, it should have been a happy occasion.

He tugged the mask back up as he heard a scream nearby.

He stopped three muggings, saved a woman from assault, and stopped a robbery by the time a flicker of purple started following him.

He scared off some men that were following a woman then pretended to take off northward before ducking around a water tower and sneaking up on his pursuer as they tried to follow. He took them in before approaching.

They looked about five foot six. The dark body armor and cloak hid their build some, but the way they carried themself proved they were muscular even if not overly broad. As he grew closer, he could see that the armor was primarily black with dark purple detailing that matched the cloak’s color. They also wore a full face mask like his friend Vesper’s, though theirs had white lenses that stood out against the black fabric instead of being completely black like the older vigilante. They were cautious, yet sure-footed as they raced over the rooftops which showed a familiarity with the territory and an understanding of its dangers.

Similarly, their growing annoyance showed they’d realized they’d lost him so Damian swooped in to pin them against an air conditioning unit. They tried to throw him off, but his larger size and superior skills kept them pinned long enough to bind their hands and tie them to the unit.

“Who are you and why are you following me?” he growled, crossing his arms and looming over them.

They stared at him for a moment, head tilting to the side, then snorted. “No wonder he got mistaken for B a few times. Are you seeing this guy?” the young woman -- judging by her voice -- muttered to herself before saying, “I’m Spoiler and I’m following you because you randomly showed up in Gotham and started playing vigilante. Don’t you know Batman doesn’t like that?”

“And yet, here you are doing the same.”

“Excuse you, I’m Batman’s partner. I earned my place on these rooftops.”

“Right.”

She tilted up her chin and crossed her arms. “I am!”

Damian frowned, but didn’t move to redo the ties she’d slipped. Vesper had told him that his father was a solo hero. Batman worked with the Justice League and the Birds of Prey as necessary, but he’d never had a permanent confidant or taken on an apprentice like some of the other heroes. The closest thing he had to partners were the Batgirls. According to Vesper, though, neither ever developed a close bond with the man. The two might be called in as backup or would team up with his father when their paths crossed, but they never depended on one another. His father was more of an inspiration, patron, and occasional teammate than a partner to either woman.

Spoiler didn’t seem to be lying, however, and appeared too forward to be capable of deceiving him. Had something changed in the four years since he’d talked to Vesper? Perhaps he should have gone with his original plan of waiting to go out until after he’d spoken with her the next day after all.

Hindsight and such were not going to change the present, however.

He looked over the woman again. Girl, he realized. Given her proportions, she was likely in her mid-teens though he could be wrong as the armor was rather concealing. An apprentice, then, which explained why she had not fallen beside her supposed partner. The mission his father perished on must have been deemed too dangerous for her to accompany him.

He carefully thought over his next words. He was not ready to announce his presence yet as clearly he had some research to do and he needed to speak with Vesper. He also didn’t know how trustworthy Spoiler was. Even if she was telling the truth about being his father’s partner, that did not tell him just how far his father’s trust in her went and therefore how far he should trust her in turn.

He stepped back from the girl, dropping his arms and attempting to take on a less antagonistic posture. “Then I am sorry for your loss.”

“Loss?” Spoiler questioned.

“Batman’s death,” he answered slowly. Had no one told her?

“What? Batman’s not dead.”

Oh, no, she was simply trying to hide the truth. “My contacts within the Justice League say otherwise.”

Batman's death had left Flamebird uncharacteristically despondent of late, understandably given how close his father and Damian’s were and the fact Flamebird had been on the mission where Batman perished.

“Someone’s going to get an ass beating,” she muttered, storming to her feet. She poked him in the chest. “So what, you find out Batman’s gone and decide that means you have a free pass to just do whatever you want in my city.”

Damian pushed her hand away, fighting down the urge to stab it. “As I think we’ve established, I had no idea you existed. I simply had business in Gotham and thought I’d do some good for a recently undefended city.”

“Yeah, well, now you know the city is being defended.”

“By a child, yes,” Damian scoffed before he could stop himself and the girl bristled.

“Who the fickle frack are you to judge me?”

After being momentarily stunned by her euphemism, he answered, “I am Ẓill.”

She stared at him and slowly shook her head. “Yeah, no offense, it’s def a me problem, but if I try to say that I will totally beat it to hell and back with a tire iron then set it on fire and spit on it just for good measure. Is that an alien language?”

“Arabic.”

“Shit. Yeah, okay, that’s why I’m sticking to the Romance languages for now.” She glanced to the side. “Do you know Arabic?”

“I-” he started, but she waved him quiet.

“I thought you were going to learn after the last run-in with… Okay, yeah, that’s fair. So… Well of course he can, the little polyglot.” She turned back to Damian as he started to wonder if the girl was insane. “So your name translates to Shadow. Mind if I just call you that because, again, I will not be responsible for the atrocity that leaves my mouth if I try to pronounce Arabic without time to practice.”

“Shadow is fine.” She wouldn’t be the first, as it had taken both Flamebird and Beacon awhile to learn how to pronounce his name properly, and the Ismoian still called him that on occasion as a nickname. More accurately she called him Shadow the Hedgehog, but that was a reference he refused to investigate given Flamebird’s reaction to it. “Who are you talking to?”

She gestured to the side of her head. “Augur. He’s our eye-in-the-sky computer guy. Hacking, running comms, information gathering, strategy, all that fun stuff.”

“I thought Oracle worked with Batman when he needed assistance with that.”

“Oracle? I mean, she helped train Augur and helps out when he needs a hand, but she’s got the Birds of Prey and Vesper, not to mention helping out the Justice League sometimes. I think she used to do a lot more for Batman back before Augur, but she’s got her own shit to do now. Augur’s our main man.”

He really should have waited to speak to Vesper. Clearly his information was more out of date than he thought.

“So, Shadow Weaver, what brings you to Gotham then?”

“Shadow Weaver?” He growled when she nodded, radiating amusement. That was clearly another reference he didn’t want to know anything about. “My being here is none of your concern.”

“Random unknown vigilantes being in my city are, like, the definition of my concern,” she said, cocking a hip.

“Your city?”

“Yeah, my city. So either tell me why you’re here or get lost.”

“And if I don’t?”

She shifted into a fighting stance. “I’ll make you.”

Damian snorted at the threat, then was yanked backward by his hood. He brought his hand up to defend, which was knocked aside.

He froze when he recognized the featureless mask staring down at him.

“I told you to keep your head down,” Vesper reprimanded, poking him in the forehead.

“If you had warned me that Batman had picked up a disciple this wouldn’t have happened,” he huffed and Spoiler pretended to gag.

“Ew, gross, don’t call me that. Makes it sound like I worship B or something, which, yeah, no.”

“Stop picking fights with Spoiler,” Vesper said and poked his forehead again. “Batman is already going to be mad enough.”

Damian’s eyes darted away from his friend and, behind Vesper, he saw Spoiler flinch.

Vesper let him back up and shoved him away. She turned to Spoiler. “I’ll deal with him. He’s a friend. Sorry.”

The girl nodded and left.

“Come on.”

The older vigilante led him to the rooftop of a clock tower. She used a biometric scanner to unlock a hidden hatch and they slipped inside, dropping down ropes into a workspace.

There was an elaborate computer setup in one corner, oddly lacking a chair, and a workout space in the other. Mirroring that was a modest medical area in one corner and a kitchenette in the other with seating at the island. Elevator doors stood between the computers and medical area while a couch and some chairs sat at the center of the room.

Pulling off her hood and mask, Cassandra led him to the couch. He removed his own hood and mask then pulled his katana off his back to lean against his leg as he sat next to her on the couch.

“You look good,” she said, glancing over him.

“You too. It’s good to see you again.”

She nodded, then lightly slapped his arm. “What were you thinking, Damian? I know I told you how protective Batman is of his territory.”

Damian’s left hand came up to trace the phoenix engraved onto his right bracer. “When was the last time you spoke to someone in the Justice League?”

She frowned, studying him. “I have been on an Outsiders mission for the past month, and was busy with a show the month before that. If Oracle has worked with them in that time, she hasn’t said anything. Why?”

“A little under a month ago, a JL team went on a mission. I don’t know the full details, but it had something to do with Darkseid and… Batman did not make it back.”

She didn’t react visibly, but her voice was soft when she asked, “You are sure?”

“Jon was on the mission. He said Batman was vaporized right before their eyes. I’m sorry.”

She bowed her head and closed her eyes. After her moment of silence, she looked up at him, face blank. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why are you here? Why do you care? You’ve always been interested in Batman, but this is… more.”

He sat up straight, hands fisting on his thighs. “I told you my name was Damian Naji, but that was a lie. My name is actually Damian al Ghul. My mother is Talia al Ghul… and my father was Batman.”

She studied him. “Batman… did not know?”

“Not as far as I am aware. Mother told me she told him she miscarried because I would be a distraction to him and the cause. After everything you’ve told me about him, I think she and Grandfather were just worried he’d take me from them. If she told him after I left, I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell him? You could have come to him for help when you ran away from the League.”

“Tt. You know how I was back then. I was everything Father stood against. He wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me. Not until I could prove I was worthy of him.”

She reached out to take his hand. “That’s not true. He knew my past and he accepted me.”

“You killed one person, instantly regretted it, and never killed again. I spent almost ten years as an assassin. It’s not the same. Besides, you were just an occasional teammate. I’m…”

“His son. Which is exactly why I know he would have loved you. Batman cares deeply for those who he considers his own. Even Oracle and I. He keeps -” She frowned and looked down. “He kept his distance from us, but only because he felt he didn’t have a right to us. Oracle had a parent and was independent, only needing help getting her feet under her. I was an adult, legally, when we met and Oracle took on my training since she was the one who found me and had practice working with younger heroes due to assisting Black Canary with the Justice League’s minor division. Had he found you, though, he wouldn’t have hesitated. You would have been his.

“He would not have been happy about how you were raised, but he still would have loved you. He would not have turned you away, even if you had wanted to continue down the path of an assassin. He would have seen that wasn’t what you wanted, though, and taught you a new way. You would not have had to do it on your own.”

Damian shook his head. “No, I had to prove that I wasn’t what my mother made me. I had to prove I could follow his rules, only then could I present myself as his heir.”

“You wouldn’t have had to prove anything to him.”

He pulled his hand away to trail it against his bracer again. “Perhaps you are right. You knew him better than I. But I did have to prove it to myself.”

She shook her head and wrapped an arm around his shoulders despite him being a head taller and twice as wide. “How?”

“My first kill was on my sixth birthday. I was fifteen when we met and I decided to leave behind the League’s ways in favor of Father’s. It… took me longer than I liked to push through the instincts to kill so on my sixteenth birthday I made an oath. Ten years of saving lives to atone for ten years of taking them. Only if I reached my twenty-sixth birthday without taking another life would I come to Gotham.”

“That is why you’ve come.”

“No, my birthday is still a few months away, but… Jon told me what happened. I realized I was too late so I am here to… I thought if I could never present myself to Father absolved of guilt, I could at least protect the city he devoted himself to since I believed it was now undefended.”

“You did not know about the others,” she chuckled.

“You told me he worked alone,” he growled.

“He did when we last spoke.” She pulled away, tilting her head. “Am I your only source for information?”

“Yes. I did not know if I could trust any other source given his reclusiveness.”

“But I only told you about Batman. What about behind the man under the cowl?”

He slumped back against the couch.

“You do not know who he is,” she said, amusement in her voice.

“Mother always told me I would learn who he was when I’d earned it. The only things I know are that I am his only family and heir. That’s why I asked you to meet me. I wanted to do this properly and cover his responsibilities in and out of the mask, but I can’t do that without knowing who he is. I’d hoped that either you would know or you could help me figure it out.”

She hummed and glanced to the side.

He followed her gaze to see a clock on the wall. It was nearing two in the morning.

Suddenly she hopped to her feet and dragged him up. “You said you are staying at Hotel Belle Monico?”

“Yes, room 3215.”

“Go straight back there and get changed.”

He nodded, figuring she wanted to get some rest. “Alright. I’ll see you later then.”

After getting her confirmation, he climbed up the ropes and did as told. It only took him fifteen minutes to get back to his room and another twenty to change out of his vigilante attire, lock all his gear away, shower, and put on his sleeping clothes. Once that was done he started to debate whether or not to get some sleep or do a bit of research first.

A knock came at his door.

He grabbed the small dagger he kept on him at all times and palmed one of the knives he’d hidden around the room as he approached the door. He peeked through the peephole, then tucked both weapons into his waistband and opened the door.

Cassandra had lost her own suit in favor of a casual teal dress and gold-brown leggings. She frowned as she took him in and started shoving him further into the room before he could say anything. “Get dressed.”

“What’s going on?”

“Clothes.”

Well aware he wasn’t going to get anything out of her, he slipped into the suite's bedroom and changed into some slacks and a polo.

“Good,” she said when he came out, then turned on her heel and left.

He quickly followed after grabbing his wallet and one of the room’s keycards.

“Where are we going?” he asked once they were in the elevator, but she just smiled at him.

The silence continued as they climbed into her car and she drove them through the city. He tried to ask again when they crossed a bridge out of the main city and into a neighborhood filled with mansions and old manors, but she remained tight-lipped until they pulled up to the gate of a larger manor.

She rolled down the window and hit the call button, which was soon answered over the video screen by an older gentleman in a butler’s uniform.

“Ah, hello, Ms. Cain,” the man said in a warm, British accent. “I was told you might make an appearance, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Hello, Alfred. Should this wait?”

“No, you might as well come in now. They’re all still awake after tonight’s events,” he sighed and the gates began to creak open.

“Sorry,” she said and he waved her off before the screen went dark.

Curiosity itched at Damian, but he stayed quiet as Cassandra drove up to the front door and they climbed out.

Alfred met them at the door. He gave Cassandra a kind smile then turned it to Damian. “Always a pleasure, Ms. Cain. And who is this?”

She looped her arm around one of Damian’s. “An old friend. Alfred, this is Damian Wayne. Damian, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”

He didn’t react to the name, assuming she’d just given him an alias, but the calculating expression on Alfred’s face as he stared at Damian’s had him second-guessing the assumption.

The expression was quickly replaced by a sad smile, however, as the man stepped back to allow them into the manor. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Master Damian.”

“You as well, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“Just Alfred, my boy. Please come in. The others are winding down in the family room.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Cassandra said, then led Damian into the house by his arm. They went up the main staircase in the entrance hall and into the first door on the left where they found a room inhabited by a group of children.

The oldest were a pair of teenagers sitting on the couch.

The girl was white, but tanned with long blonde hair pulled into a messy braid and dark green eyes. She was thin but muscular and he could see her arms were covered in small scars thanks to her Gotham Sirens tank top. She was cradling a sleeping infant who was wrapped in a Wonder Woman blanket and clutching a stuffed Batman.

The other teen was more androgynous, body hidden under an overly large White Arrow hoodie and Supergirl sweat pants. They were Latine with their skin a pale brown and their eyes a silvery blue. Their hair was black and chin-length. They had a video game controller on their lap and a tablet in their hands.

The next oldest was a preteen boy with a book sitting sideways in an armchair, back against one arm and legs draped over the other. He was fair with freckles speckling his face around his navy eyes. His hair was short and a dark red, almost black color. He was thin and muscular like the girl, but there was a touch of broadness to his shoulders that spoke of a bulkiness to come with puberty. A German Shepherd was squeezed onto the chair with him, half-tucked under the boy's legs with his head on the boy's stomach for pets.

The last child was a few years younger than the preteen. He both had the most conditioned and the least combative build of the children, having more of a gymnast's figure. His skin was of a similar olive tone to Damian’s, though a few shades lighter, and his curly hair was brown-black. Damian couldn’t see his eyes as he was dozing on a rug in front of the tv with a three-legged pitbull puppy, both curled around a large stuffed elephant. A video game controller was abandoned behind the boy.

The three awake children turned to Damian and Cassandra when they entered. They all greeted her warmly, but the girl and boy eyed him warily while the androgynous teen studied him with sharp curiosity.

“Who’s your friend, Cassie?” the boy asked.

Cassandra shoved Damian further into the room. “Your brother.”

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

So last month I made a post asking if anyone had written a story where the Robins' ages were reversed as is the trope, but they still got taken in by Bruce in the same order as well as giving some ideas for how that could work. No one ever got back to me on if that was already a thing so I figured I might as well write out one of the scenes that really caught my interest when brainstorming.

#batfam #damian wayne #cass cain #stephanie brown #batman #rabno #fanfiction

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 79: The Rites of Blood and Knowledge

Chapters: 79/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg 13(Blood)

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel) Wanda Maximoff, vision, Bruce Banner

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, In Reference To Blood Mixing Mentioned In The Eddas

Summary: The great ceremonies begin.

The dreams were powerful that night, whisking you off to far away places, off to the increasingly familiar form of the gargantuan space artist. There was a strange nostalgia out here that you were slowly coming to recognize as being not your own. How could it be? You had never physically been here, only visited in dreams.

With green and blue sparkling at your right and left, you drifted along in their orbit, yet another asteroid in a primordial star system.

First Wielder.

The concept filtered through your mind, trailing a warm and wistful longing behind it.

Peace. Eternity. Creation.

Before battle. Before separation. Before imprisonment.

Before all.

The star system was strange: every time you came here, the sun was a little different. A variable star, its brightness oscillating, it was still young and new.

There was only one planet in this system, located fairly close to the star. The presence of the colossal giant perturbed the asteroids and gas around the star, but their great mass prevented them from coalescing.

Comets formed in great numbers from the gas and ice beyond them, whizzing past them, inspiring new drawings. Asteroids clumped up against them; a brush of their great hand sent them flying, to collide into one another, to spin away from their unstable orbit, and join the comets on their cross-system journey, to crash into the singular planet.

The colossus watched with the patience of true immortality, as the planet burned and erupted, filled up with water, and clouds, and sky.

Thoughtfully, they regarded an asteroid they held in one hand, then, with their color-stained fingers, they began to draw.

The wistfulness and regret reached their peak, and you woke up in the empty bathtub, with a thought ringing in your head.

The Wielders always came to a bad end.

******

Loki was somewhat disgruntled to discover that you'd been having these dreams without him. He didn't scold, but his concern was clear. You described them in as much detail as you could, but, to your dismay, he didn't have any explanation for what you'd been seeing while you slept.

It would just have to remain a mystery. The upcoming day was going to be far too busy to dwell on it.

Both you and Loki had dressed in your absolute finest, your armor polished bright, your skirt covered in embroidery, your chest and neck festooned in beads of carved gold and pearl. You still felt a little bit like you were so buried in finery that you became invisible, but you tried to carry it with pride. All of this had been put together especially for you, and that hard work deserved to be shown off.

Loki was so magnificent in his fur-trimmed cloak, and elaborate helmet, you had to firmly tell yourself not to spend the whole day just staring at him all moon-eyed.

Maybe just a few hours.

Today, the Second Feast, was really the main event, as far as this Buridag was concerned. At noon, you would participate in the Blood Taking ceremony, wherin you would 'mingle blood' with the royal brothers, in order to be formally adopted into Asgardian high society. This would cement your status as high enough to advise Loki as one of the most important members of his personal entourage. And before the evening feast, you would perform the ritual that would confirm you as an official Seidkona.

But before that, you would have the time to run around and enjoy the festival.

It was set up like a combination job fair and reenactment fest. Stalls lined the streets and filled courtyards, peopled by the crafters of Asgard. Smiths, armorers, and carpenters, goldsmiths, lapidaries, scrimshanders, and glassblowers. Weavers, spinners, leatherworkers, and dyemakers, artists, musicians, chefs, academics, mages, stonemasons, construction workers, scribes, dancers, and cheesemongers. All the sights, and sounds, and scents, and flavors that made up Asgard were being demonstrated and celebrated.

Your Father and Tara joined you in the streets, and Loki reluctantly released you into their care, having some preparation left to do.

Tara, flouncing around in an apron dress and domed brooches very much like your usual style, gushed over how beautiful you looked, and your father, rather sheepishly dressed in an Asgardian greatcoat and cowl, agreed openly.

“You look like a princess.” he said. “A real one. You...You walk different now. Talk different. You look so strong.”

“Is it me, or are all these people following us?” Tara asked, not very quietly. A few chagrined people in the crowd that flowed in your wake down the street peeled away, and wandered in different directions. The rest either had less shame, or had orders to keep watch over you.

You spared the group a glance. There appeared to be a solid mix of Asgardians and humans, several of which had their phones out. You surmised there would be a new wave of photos of you on the internet over the next few days.

“Keep your cowl up dad.” You advised.

“Want me to run them off?” he offered.

“Nah. I don't really mind if they take pictures of me. Can't really hurt anything.”

“Wasn't so great last time.” Tara pointed out. “I spent a lot of time stanning for you.”

“Well, last time was sensationalized bullcrap. This time is a nice festival. I mean, check out that guy!”

That Guy was a glassblower in his stall, spinning a huge, bubble thin amphora of rose pink glass. You had seen its like before, but never seen one made.

“Oh, they age crystal mead in those! The pink lets in the right wavelengths of light that give it it's shimmering quality.”

“What's crystal mead?” your father asked.

“Don't try more than a few sips, if anyone offers.” you warned. “Asgardians have iron guts. Their booze is way too strong.”

“Yeah, they warned us about that on the plane.” Tara said. “And yesterday, it looked like they had everything divided up by species, so no one got the wrong thing.”

You took them around to various demonstrations: spinners spinning yarn, brewers preparing several of Asgards many alcoholic beverages, apothecaries showing how basic medicines were made, a cobbler putting together a nice pair of boots.

“So, Asgard's really advanced, right?” Tara asked. “Why is everything like Ye Olden Times?”

“Asgard's never had that big a population, even at it height. There just isn't that much demand for mass production. Most things are bespoke, or self-made. Quality depends entirely on the maker, so that, of course, becomes a competition. And that, in turn, becomes a matter of cultural pride. Also, they have thousands of years to get good at what they do, so Asgardian made goods are super high quality, and they judge personal worth by that. I don't think they'll ever automate; it would go against a lot of what they stand for.”

You snagged the three of you a traditional Asgardian snack; fat sausages, wrapped in savory pastry. You thought it might be good to have something else in your stomach before the first ceremony.

Tara called them Asgardian corn dogs, which you couldn't wait to share with Loki, if only to watch his nose wrinkle with disdain over the undignified term.

“So when do we have to let you go?” Tara asked.

You checked your phone for the time, stuffing the last of your sausage into your mouth.

“Eh, I've got a few minutes left. Better start heading over though.”

Your winding path through the courtyards took you past minstrels, impromptu dances, and games, to a large, tall dais that had been put together as a temporary mirror to the throne room. It towered over the City Hall courtyard like a ziggurat. You'd be up there soon enough, but currently...

“Who's that?” your father asked, pointing at a man standing at the top. “Doesn't look like Thor.”

You squinted up at the figure, his bright armor shining in the rarefied sunlight.

“Ah, That's Heimdall. He's the Guardian of Asgard, and god of...uh, sight? I think? Vigilance? It's not quite that neat and simple, you know? The whole 'God Of' thing is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So that's a god?” your father asked. “How can you tell? Are they all gods? What does that even mean?”

“All good questions. Mostly because they are very hard to answer.”

Your father and Tara jerked at the sudden new voice, and, not for the first time, you found yourself amazed at how easily a man of the sheer size and importance as the king of Asgard could sneak up on people.

“Your Majesty.” you said calmly, inclining your head. Your father and Tara dipped into awkward bows, a little awed by the mythical figure before them. Thor didn't necessarily demand obeisance, but he didn't exactly discourage it either; he let people act as they felt appropriate.

“Not every Asgardian is a god.” Thor explained. “Those that are go by the term 'Aesir', a common name through most of the realms for beings of that type. You are born Aesir; you cannot become one by outside influences. However, Aesir nature doesn't always become apparent at birth, it often doesn't manifest until adolescence. As for what it means to be Aesir...that doesn't have so straightforward an answer. I leave it to the philosophers, who, incidentally, are in booth seventy-eight.

Anyway, I have come to collect your daughter for the ceremony. There isn't much time left, so we'd all better get in place. If you go through those two poles there right now, you can get very good seats.”

“This could get a bit weird.” You warned. “It's a ceremony more ancient than any recorded human practices, so it's probably going to seem archaic.”

“Oh, it's not so bad.” Thor said. “It's been updated and refined over all those years. For instance, everyone remains clothed now, and there are at least seventy percent fewer entrails used.”

Your father coughed, and you rolled your eyes. Thor's sense of humor was difficult for you to understand, considering how serious he was about everything. The thing about Thor's jokes was that he might have been joking about something that had really happened, or he might have been joking about something he'd completely made up, but he would never specify which.

“On that note, I've got to go.” you said. “Entrails to sort, and all that.”

Your father coughed again, Tara patting him compassionately on the back.

“Good luck!” she called to your receding back.

******

“Now, you've been fully briefed on what will happen during this ceremony, correct?” Thor asked, as the two of you loitered near the back stairs of the temporary dais. People were filtering in to seats and standing room around the courtyard, waiting for things to start.

“I think so.” you said. “If I've got this right, there's going to be a special dance-”

“The Alignment of the Celestial and Worldly bodies, yes.” Thor said. “It symbolizes everything that must come together to bring the 'adoptee' to the greater 'family'. In this case, it will tell the story of how you came here to join our family.”

A soft warmth crept up your neck, and heated your ears beneath your helmet. You knew it was all socio-symbolism, but the notion of 'joining the family' hit differently now that you were on intimate terms with Loki.

“And then all the braziers will have some kind of incense thrown in, and in the smoke, we'll all go up the stairs like we're magically appearing. Honestly, it sounds like it'll look really cool.”

“All ceremonies contain a bit of theatrics.” Thor agreed. “Perhaps that is the most important part. Or that's the part that makes it important. I wish we still had some of the traditional ceremonial incense, but we just don't have access to the materials anymore. You would have liked it; it was much more floral than most of what you have here. We did manage to get some lavender though. That should be nice.”

“Maybe one day, when the Bifrost is more stable.” You said. It did sound very nice. “Loki said that you, and he, and Heimdall will sing a blessing song?”

“Yes, a divine blessing from a trio of Aesir. It's got to be three. And then...”

“Yeah. And then.” Loki had told you about the bloodletting. He had been very frank about it. “I know. I'm nervous, but not afraid.”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes there are unforeseen effects, but never anything bad. You'll be perfectly safe.”

“I know. The nervousness just comes from knowing it'll hurt. Even if just for a short time.”

You buckled under Thor's hand when it came down on your shoulder, enveloping the whole thing.

“Loki would rather slice out his own guts than draw your blood, trust me. He's been trying to figure out how to get around it for weeks. Unfortunately, the blood is the most important part of the magic. It carries all of the power. It's very old magic: according to him, this is practically the only part of the ritual that has remained unchanged from the beginning.”

“Did there really used to be entrails and naked people, or was that a joke?”

“Ehhh, well, yes and no. This ceremony originated with the Vanir, and they are not opposed to nakedness under certain circumstances. In this case, everyone who attended was expected to leave the clothes they came in at the door, and wear a special loincloth instead. This was actually to prevent violence, by barring hidden weaponry from being brought to ceremony grounds. So rather than pure nudity, everyone was dressed as scantily as was possible.

As for entrails...unfortunately yes, that was also a part of it. A seer would perform a divination using the entrails of a slaughtered animal. That practice was going out of fashion, even before the war, and I don't think anyone today even remembers how it was done.”

You shuddered. Yes, it was a different culture, and a long time ago, but it still grossed you out.

“I'll have to remember to thank Loki for trying to get me out of it, even if he wasn't successful.” You said. He really did put in a lot of effort behind the scenes. If only he were more open about some of that effort, so you could appreciate it more.

“He was adamant about the bull.” Thor said. “Demanded a private ritual the night before. Put your helmet up on the pillar, then sacrificed and butchered the beast himself. Insisted on it. Did our ancestors proud, but you know he knows his way around a knife.”

“I wish he'd told me. I was really stressed about that whole thing. I'm glad, in the end, that he was thinking of me, but I really wish I'd known. I wouldn't have lost so much sleep!”

“It was a little last minute.” Thor admitted. “I approved it the instant he explained, but we had to do it pretty much immediately afterwards. He really should have told you, but I fear my brother is usually more invested in the making of plans, rather than what to do once they come to fruition. I feel you will be a positive influence on him, though.”

Even though he was wearing his eyepatch, rather than the mismatched prosthetic, his one blue eye was open and sincere.

“I think so too.” you said. You already were influencing each other. It was impossible to live so close, to sleep in the same bed, without doing so. But Loki did have a bad habit of assuming things, a by-product of his upbringing as a leader, you supposed. You would simply have to speak up more.

Perhaps you had gotten too comfortable. But perhaps you wanted to be too comfortable. It might be a holdover from your year of struggle, but having someone who wanted to do so much for you was very tempting. You knew it would be better to strive for a balance, but you also knew that, unless Loki somehow diminished himself severely, the two of you would never truly be equals.

But you admired that greatness, and somehow, those all too common flaws in him made him easier for you to love. They made him so real.

An ambling drum beat started up, accompanied by the brassy ting of zills, and a flute. Loki joined you and Thor in peeking out around the dais, just as a group of dancers spread out around the courtyard.

You'd been told that the dancers represented personages from history and legend. You were pretty sure that the three women who orbited the dance stage equidistant from one another must be the Norns, and you assumed the cluster of people standing beneath a glittering tree branch and clanging their zills were probably meant to be the ancestors of the royal family.

The dance told a story of a woman dressed like you, and a man dressed like Loki, wearing silver bells at their wrists and ankles that jingled with every step. They made everything look so much more graceful and sensual than it really had been: Holding hands like the rune branding had been on purpose, dancing circles with each other, like everything had been friendly and not at all awkward from the very beginning. How elegantly 'you' swooned into 'his' arms, while the assassin was caught. How triumphantly 'you' defended 'him' against the Huldra. And how beautifully 'he' clasped 'you' in a romantic, yet properly chaste embrace.

There was none of the blood, none of the fear, or anger, or petulance, or confusion. No loss, or loneliness, or uncertainty.

But that was how it worked, wasn't it? None of those things could be shown to the general public. This was ceremony. This was spectacle! This was what would be remembered.

The pair danced away, out of sight, the ancestors retreated, and the Norns raised their arms in unison. All around the courtyard, attendants dumped incense into the torches and braziers, sending thick smoke and mysterious perfume wafting over the entire area.

“Show's on, darling.” Loki said, grasping your shoulders, and leading you up the stairs. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you rose above the sweet smelling clouds like a legend. Heimdall stepped aside to let you pass, Loki and Thor leading you right up to the edge of the elevated platform, where waited a podium, upon which rested a brass bowl. An unfamiliar rune was stamped on its bottom. So that was where the magic would happen.

Thor held his hand out over an unlit brazier just in front of the podium and concentrated. Scarcely a moment later sparks danced between his fingers and jumped to ignite the fuel. The light illuminated the clouds of incense, obscuring the audience. Cut off thus from every other person out there, you didn't flinch as the trio of gods each placed a hand on you, and began to sing.

You couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. It was a complex song, with rising and falling harmonies, parts layered over one another, something that couldn't have been easy to learn. As their voices dipped and flowed, you felt the power rising, just like out in the camp, months ago. Why could you sense divine power? Was it because of your magic? Was there anyone out in the crowd that could feel it too?

Thor's good eye had begun to sparkle with crackling white energy, the power of the blessing he was singing into you. You assumed Heimdall, behind you, was lighting up orange, and when you turned your head to glance at Loki, you were suffused with the gentle glow of the blue light from your dreams.

All of the anxiety drained out of you at the touch of that light, your arms dropping to your sides as relaxation took over.

Everything was all right. Loki was right beside you. Thor and Heimdall were with you, their voices reverberating through you, their blessing upon you. The rare winter sun filtered down over you like a blanket, as the last notes of the Aesir's song filled your head.

Loki gently took your hand, gazing earnestly into your face as the calming light faded from his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispered.

A sudden, painful jab, ripped you out of your cocoon of sunny calm. With a sharp cry, you turned to stare at your fingertip, pierced deeply by the tip of one of Loki's knives.

Loki held your hand over the brass bowl, letting the blood drip, enough to cover the rune at the bottom. Then he tenderly bandaged the tiny wound, lines of regret around his eyes. Thor held his hand out for a slash, and then Loki turned the blade on himself. Blood slowly filled the little bowl, as a light throbbing started in your head. Every drop that rippled its surface was like a giant heartbeat within you.

Once it was full, Thor and Loki began singing again, lifting the small bowl between them. They held it up to the sun, and then poured it onto the burning brazier. The fire sputtered, sizzling, sending a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face. You gagged on the scent of burning blood, practically bathed in it, a layer of death-scent on your skin. The song cut through it, thrumming in your ears, an echoing promise of cherishment and fidelity.

The blood burned down into nothing, the smoke slowly clearing. All of the people in the courtyard came back into view, the upturned faces solemn. The dancers below picked up the chorus.

And you understood them.

Loki took your hand and lifted it up, flourishing to the crowd. They cheered, while you stood there, stunned. You understood what they were saying, their enthusiastic calls, their songs. The blood smell lingered in your nose, the throbbing swiftly receding from your head.

He led you to the stairs down as you wobbled, but you never made it all the way down. Dizziness overcame you, and you collapsed into Loki's arms.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Rebirth' : New chapter for "Always for the greater cause..." is out !

Chapter Summary: Bell needs to remember what happened on the 23rd of February 1968, the day that she, Stitch & Bellamy met for the first time, Russell Adler after the CIA attack on Rebirth Island...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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23rd February 1968

Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, KGB, Stitch's assistant

CIA temporary outpost on Rebirth Island in the Aral Sea, USSR

My eyes were narrowed at the max they could as my ears were whistling as if an explosion was in continuous near me. My body was looking exhausted, impossible to move at all my arms & my legs away as there were ropes wrapped hardly around them and it was hurting, more hurting than the numerous knife cut on my arms that were poorly healed, the bandage looking unchanged and in bad shape thanks to the blood on it.

Slowly, my mind was processing about the whole situation, my eyes following in it, turning my head around but the only thing I was able to do when I start to open back my eyes widely was to get blinded by the bright light in the center of the room on the ceiling. It took me almost a minute to actually open my eyes for good and to say, the situation wasn't very looking good for me...and Bellamy that was a few meters from me, like me...tied up to a chair, a blindfold covering her eyes and tape on his mouth...like me. There was an empty seat on the other side opposite Bellamy, bloodied.

In front of me, I could see two masked men, guarding the door of the room, their faces inexpressive towards seeing me or Bellamy, they were just here to keep an eye on us with their guns even if I could see a little smile on their faces, probably happy to have done their little mission on the island, just relaxing by guarding us in that room and suddenly, one of them moved to open the door like that, as I could see 'Stitch' with a bandage around his head covering his left eye.

"You see...well, it's a big word, you saw what I can do, Stitch," It was him...Russell Adler, his men were holding 'Stitch', bringing me to the bloodied chair, "I didn't pull out an eye from you to not have you talk but I hope you will talk soon," He added, still looking at Stitch behind his sunglasses as his men were starting to tying up Stitch on the chair.

"Fuck you," Stitch told him in a clear voice before he spits right on Adler's black boots but his only reaction was to simply smile at that action as one of his men punched Stitch on the left part of his face.

"It isn't enough but at least, you said something else than your name & rank," Adler said, passing his hand through his hair after he removed his cap, not removing his eyes away from him. "So now, you're going to talk: where's Dragovich?" He asked Stitch who was looking down at his feet, trying to struggle with his links.

"Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin, KGB officer of Laboratory 12," Stitch replied to him in a normal voice, avoiding any eye contact with Adler with his remaining eye.

"For fuck sake, I took an eye out and you're still not talking," Adler sighed, sounding mostly annoyed in his voice and putting his hands on his jaw, going down on it. "I don't give a damn about who you are, tell us where's Dragovich?" He asked again, using the same tone as before, adding a bit of angriness in his voice at the end.

"Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin, KGB officer of Laboratory 12," Stitch repeated in a low voice this time, looking at Adler in the eyes, a look of rage on his face as I could see. "I will find you, Adler, I will," He warned him and even that sends me chills inside of me because of the tone he took towards Adler.

"We'll see about it," Adler only smirked at him before he finally removed his eyes from him... curiously going into my direction. "Maybe that your friend can help us instead," He snorted, starting to walk in my direction before he stopped in front of me, removing by force the tape off my mouth and he didn't go easy on it. "Miss, I hope that you will cooperate with us because even if you're a woman, I'm not hesitating," He explained to me.

"Ain't going to give you shit," I told him, making him clear and looking at him with desperation and as I feared, he decided to put his hands on my arms, holding them firmly to hurt me deeply within the bandages.

"And me, I want to know things, miss," He sniffed, keeping his hands on me, waiting for me to talk. "Where's Dragovich?" He demanded to me.

"Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, KGB recruit...of Laboratory 12," I responded to him, doing the same thing as Stitch did as a smile was coming on my face before Adler moved his right hand to my neck but I was continuing to smile at his face, "What do you get, big guy? Got angry?" I scoffed at him before receiving a punch right on the face with his left fist.

"Be funny, dipshit," He cursed to my face before I saw him taking his knife out of his back, holding it with his left hand. "You surely don't want me to do what I did to your friend, don't you?" He asked me, showing me his knife and slowly approaching it to my face, a smile still on it.

"Yirina 'Bell Grigoriev, KGB recruit of Laboratory 12...and just go fuck yourself," I repeated, smiling at him despite the danger of doing that, and I could see him start to move the end his knife near my left eye before he stopped himself.

"No, I ain't going to make you a one-eyed woman, just going to leave a permanent mark," He stated to me, grinning before he removed with his knife, a part of my black shirt to let my left shoulder visible. "Don't cry too much, it's going to hurt," He said before he starts to plant his knife against my skin, feeling the cold of it on my skin and the pain starting to appear in me and I wanted to cry but Adler moved his right hand in front of my mouth, avoiding any sounds to come out of my mouth.

"A big scar for the rest of your life, more pleasant than losing one of your eyes but making you less comfortable with yourself," Adler exclaimed, making a straight line with his knife on my skin, going to my left shoulder to my right one above my breasts, making sure that the knife was deep enough to leave a mark on me but not so deep to kill me. "Now, are you willing to speak, or do I have to make another scar?" He demanded with a smile as his knife was going back along my new scar, blood going out from it.

"Just eat shit & die," I mumbled to him, not even able to look at him in the eyes.

"Damnit, is everyone this stupid to not talk in here?" Adler sighed again, desperate to not having me talk but the situation wasn't funny for me anymore, I was bleeding a little but it was making me nervous to have a part of my shoulders exposed to everyone in...

"Adler." A voice spoke inside the room, coming from the room's opened door, and Adler closed his eyes for a second before he turned around away from me. "Hudson needs your help with Mason, it's important," It was a man with a black eye patch with a Russian accent, dressed in a yellow Hazard uniform.

"As you wish, Weaver," Adler told him after a few seconds of reflection from him, putting his knife back. "You two, try to not let her bleed out and keep an eye on the three, I will come back later," He ordered to the two guards that were standing near the door before he starts to walk away, following this Weaver out of the room.

As the door was closed by Adler behind him, the guards looked at each other before one of them resigned himself to move to grab the necessary things to patch me up on a little table near where Stitch was sitting and then, going to me apply some wound disinfectant along the new scar I now got, making me groan a little before he could put the bandages around me and by the look of it, the guy was making a poor job on me, mostly intentionally.

It was while he was wrapping me in those bandages that I start to slowly try to struggle with the links as the guy said that he needed me to relax while he was healing me up, having softened my arms links and right at the moment he has finished with me that my left arm was no longer around a rope, causing me to make the first move and hit him right into the jaw, making him fall back on his ass on the ground.

Of course, as I predicted, the second guard was directly reactive towards the situation, going to charge me for a punch and knocking me out and everything was against me as only my left arm was free, the other part of my body still in rope and quickly, I decided to decide between turning around in a fast move and suddenly, going back to throw myself on the running guard to take him out too for a moment.

The move caused the wooden chair to broke up in pieces at the impact on the ground as it was old enough to break at the first brutal move with it, making me free of my moves, still having part of the chair on my right arm and my legs but at least, I was free. The first guy I hit was starting to get back on his feet but for him, I grabbed one of the knives that were on the second guy's body to throw it to him, hitting him in his right eye, deeply enough to kill him.

"Good work, Bell," Stitch complimented me in a low voice as I moved to free him of his own links, after having to back the knife from the dead guy's body.

"I wasn't going to let this chance pass through me like that," I stated to him, referring to the moment where the first soldier softened my arms links as I was cutting the ropes off his arms. "Do you know where we are?" I asked him, not recognizing the place at all.

"In the abandoned prison in the north of the island we used for tests, underground of it," He replied, looking at his freed hands as I was going to cut his links from his legs. "It's one of the parts of the island that wasn't affected by the Nova-6," He added, finally freeing him before I decided to quickly help the poor Bellamy.

"And the whole island is under the CIA's control..." I whispered slowly, taking off Bellamy's mouth lips in a quick move.

"Ouch, not this hard, Bell!" He said in an almost loud voice, complaining about me.

"Hey, you want to get us spotted by the others outside or what?" I asked him in a clear & serious voice, annoyed by the fact that he almost shouted. "I didn't do this to have you doing this," I exclaimed before taking a deep breath and then, removing his blindfold and cutting his links.

"Damn, how long we have been here?" Bellamy asked, blinking with his eyes, blinded by the light of the room like me.

"Only a few hours, I presume?" I suggested, looking at Stitch who nodded at me. "Yeap, a few hours," I said, looking back at Bellamy.

"We're going to find a way to get out of here and I know how," Stitch spoke up, going up from his chair and moving to grab one of the soldier's rifles on the ground.

"And what's your plan, Stitch?" Bellamy demanded, raising an eyebrow to him as he got up from his chair, holding his right wrist after I finished with him to cut his ropes, keeping the knife with me. "Because if you want to retake the island with only the two of us, not sure that's going to work," He added.

"There's a radio in the old warden's office on the second floor, we can contact a rescue party to get us on the prison's roof," Stitch replied, checking out the mag of the gun he took on the ground as Bellamy was taking the other rifle on the ground, giving me only a simple M1911 pistol from the unconscious guard. "We contact them, we wait on the roof, and then, we're out,"

"Okay, we should go now," I suggested about it despite that I was only armed with a pistol and a knife and maybe that the whole CIA was waiting for us through this closed door.

"We have to get on our separate way, I have to go recover some things that can't fall in the CIA hands underground as for you two, you need to go to the warden's office and make the call," He told us before he starts to move towards the unconscious guy. "Besides, you & Bellamy is making quite a good team,"

"Stitch, you're missing an eye, you need to come with us," Bellamy suggested but Stitch shook his head.

"I know my way around, Bellamy, go, I'll join you on the roof," He ordered us, gesturing to move away as he was starting to put his hands around the unconscious guy's neck to strangle him and kill him, "Go, you have a job to do," He continued and I nodded to him.

"Let's go then, Bellamy," I spoke up, cocking the M1911 as Bellamy was taking the lead in front of me, opening the door slowly and peaking his head to look outside.

"It's all clear, let's move," Bellamy whispered before he starts to walk in a slow & careful way as no one was wanting us to get jumped off by a surprise CIA agent or anything else.

I stayed behind him all the time, leaving Stitch inside the room we were holding on to as we were now walking through the multiples hallways of the prison's underground, avoiding engaging the various CIA patrols around and if we were able to, we took out some of them by behind by using our fists & knife as it wasn't the moment for us to get spotted by the CIA, not after being this far of getting free by luck.

Of course, both of us were nervous as hell to travel through the prison hallways, Bellamy the only one between the two of us to know his way around inside and we needed to stay discreet in our way towards the warden's office that was, according to Stitch to the second floor of the building and thankfully, Bellamy was the one leading me towards the office.

After passing discreetly through the underground and the first floor that was mostly unoccupied by the CIA but still patrolled, we finally arrived on the 2nd floor of the building and a few moments later, we were in front of the warden's office, a red door separating us from entering it....a red door that was quite distinguished among the look of the building as it was looking cleaned up and not so in place around here...

"It's good, Bell...continue to remember...you're doing great...continue..."

We entered the office, finding it in bad shape but there was the radio that Stitch talked about, and near it, there was a file with a trace of blood on it, getting my interest on it and taking it with me as Bellamy was moving towards the radio to get it on.

"Guard the door, I'll be contacting our rescue party," He suggested to me as he was the one to know what to do with the radio, handing me over the rifle he was using.

"Good," I complied, taking the rifle in my hands before moving to the door, peaking my head from time to time to see if no one was coming while Bellamy was doing his things with the radio.

"Anyone copy? This is Rebirth speaking." Bellamy started, taking a low voice to avoid us getting spotted in case, the office having only broken windows. "This is Rebirth speaking, is there anyone outside the island that can help us?" He continued, feeling the pleading in his voice.

"This is the Colonel Lev Kravchenko, who's speaking?" A man's voice came out of the radio, giving us some hope as we recognized the man that was leading the Nova-6 project in Rebirth Island himself.

"This is Bellamy Petrov, I'm with Yirina Grigoriev and our chief, Vikhor Kuzmin, we've managed to get free from the CIA that took over the island and we need to get rescued, it's our only way out," Bellamy explained everything to the Colonel, sounding relieved to have him through the radio.

"Tell me where you are, we're not this far from Rebirth," Kravchenko demanded.

"In the abandoned prison up north of the island, we need to get retrieved on the roof," Bellamy responded to him clearly before suddenly, the sound of an old alarm was starting to ring inside the whole prison. "Shit, they surely spotted that we got away, save us quick, sir!" He added before cutting the radio off, knowing that time wasn't at our side right now.

"We should run to the roof, Bellamy," I proposed to him, starting to walk away from the office with his rifle before I saw some soldiers coming from the hallway we arrived here, opening fire on me and causing me to retreat inside the office. "Fuck, there's no way out!' I yelled, closing the door again, locking it from the inside as I could hear the muffled gunshots against it on the other side.

"Don't worry, there's an exterior emergency staircase near, follow me," He moved towards to take his rifle back before he starts to walk to one of the broken window, following him and discovering in fact, a metal staircase, going on the roof just above us. "Quick, this door ain't going to hold with them," Bellamy shouted at me, urging me to follow him outside before I passed through the window after him.

"Up there, on the staircase!" Someone shouted on the ground, probably a soldier.

"Don't stop & run!" Bellamy advised as bullets were starting to fly over in our direction as we were literally running on the stairs to join up the roof, the bullets mostly trying to hit me the most than Bellamy himself.

"Over here!" I heard Stitch's voice as we were getting in cover from the bullets from the ground, seeing him hide behind a cover a few meters from us and holding the same rifle from before. "Are you both okay?" He asked us.

"We almost got killed but yeah, we're good," I replied to him, joining in cover before showing the file I took in the warden's office. "Found this in the office while Bellamy was making the call, must be important,"

"Of course, we couldn't let this get into the CIA's hands, good work, Bell!" He complimented me before he peaked his head up from the cover, doing the same as him and seeing him a dozen soldiers arriving on the roof.

"We only had two rifles, a pistol, a knife along with only one mag for each gun," Bellamy stated, taking a look with us at the soldiers that started to fire at our position. "Even if we're very precise, I'm not sure that we can kill them all," He scoffed, shaking his head as he was hesitating to ripost. "Let's hope that our rescue will be here soon,"

"Speaking of the devil..." I muttered, starting to hear the sounds of a helicopter coming close to our position and looking Russian...our rescue party. "Here's Kravchenko!" I pointed out to the chopper for the two of them and directly after a few seconds, I said that that helicopter started to fire its gun towards the CIA soldier's positions.

"The cavalry has arrived!" Bellamy joked, making shots towards the CIA guys as the helicopter turned around, opening its loading bay door to let us in.

"Go inside, I'll cover you," I suggested and the two nodded, Stitch giving me his rifle as he starts to run towards the chopper where he was greeted by a soviet soldier as I was providing cover for him & Bellamy. "Bellamy, your turn," I told him and he moved, staying alone to fire the few bullets I've got with me.

"Come on, Bell, run!" I heard Stitch speaking to me as more soldiers were coming in to stop us to flee and seeing that he was right, I threw away the gun I've got in my hands before starting to run to the helicopter and then, jumping in it as it moved a little away from the roof's ridge. As I thought to have missed my jump, I was hopefully grabbed by my hand by Stitch himself. "I've got you,' He said, pulling me up from the void back inside the helicopter who was going away from Rebirth...finally free.

"Finally free, we've got freed and we saved intel," Bellamy stated, seeing him sit down near a soldier as his look was on the file I was having with me.

"Not totally free, comrades," A voice spoke up, Kravchenko himself that was inside the cockpit, removing his headset before going up from his seat to face Stitch himself, his soldiers moving around us. "Do you realize that we lost our main Nova-6 production side to the CIA?" He asked Stitch in particular.

"If we were given more logistics and equipment, the situation wouldn't have happened, Colonel," Stitch protested to him before suddenly, my arms and legs were grabbed by the soldiers near me, and then, I could feel something touching me in my neck...like a needle..."What the...." Stitch tried to say before he suffered the same state as us.

"You put a shame towards our union today, Stitch," Kravchenko said to him before a soldier did the same thing they did to me & Bellamy, starting to feel exhausted and wanting to sleep. "You & your friends aren't friends of the state, your places...is in a gulag!" He added towards us before the soldiers released us without any resistance from us, knowing that we're passing out on the helicopter floor, freed from Rebirth but betrayed by the state we believed in....

We were betrayed...and that's why...we're here now...

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #fem!bell #freya wraith helvig #vikhor stitch kuzmin

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

Link

Summary: Adora learns a few things.

Content warning: Slime torture reference, ableist language, ableism.

They landed smoothly in Salineas. Bow and Glimmer got off the ship first, happy to greet Mermista and Seahawk. Adora stayed with Catra onboard, both of them waiting for Hordak and Entrapta to reappear.

Adora smiled, lacing her fingers with Catra’s. “You want to check out the beaches before we leave?” she asked. “Glimmer and Mermista have political stuff to work out, and I know Bow and Seahawk will probably run off for a boy’s night—so we should have some time to ourselves.”

Catra glanced at her and gave a short nod. “Sure.”

Adora furrowed her brows, but before she could ask if Catra was okay, Hordak and Entrapta reappeared. It was odd to see her clinging to his arm, and odder still to see the soft expression on his face when he looked at her. Thought that softness disappeared as soon as he caught sight of them, once again buried by a scowl. If Entrapta noticed, she didn’t seem to care. She continued to babble about a portal system or something as both walked down the ramp. Catra and Adora followed a moment later.

On the ground, Hordak pulled free of Entrapta to cross his arms, regarding Mermista with a blank expression. “I would like to begin by surveying the area. Do you have a foreperson you’d like me to coordinate with? Builders?”

“Not so fast,” she said, hands on her hips. “Lose the armor.”

His spine went straight and stiff. “Excuse me?”

She groaned, as if appalled by his obliviousness. “Look, if you’re not here to, like, conquer anything, then you obviously don’t need it, do you?”

Entrapta stepped forward, smiling. “He does, though,” she said helpfully. “And he’s not going to do anything to break the treaty.”

Mermista blew a stray strand of hair out of her face, then said, “Listen, Geek Princess—“

Hordak stepped in front of Entrapta, as if shielding her. “What did you just say?”

Mermista gave him a bored look. “Wow, with ears like that, you’d think you‘d be able to, like, hear better.”

Adora was already transforming into She-Ra as she stepped between them. “Okay,” she said, smiling uneasily. She pressed one hand to Hordak’s chest. The other she held palm-out to stop Mermista from getting closer. “Why don’t we all just. Take a deep breath.” She demonstrated. “And settle down?”

Hordak continued to glare at Mermista, but Mermista just rolled her eyes. “This is, like, super simple. Armor. Off. Got it?” She raised her voice and enunciated each word, as if she truly thought Hordak was hard of hearing.

His ears pulled back, and if his body language was anything like Catra’s, that wasn’t a good sign. Trying to keep the peace, Adora looked between them. “Um...Hordak? Would you mind...not wearing the armor?”

“Yes,” he snapped, “I mind!”

“Okay.” Adora sighed. “Mermista—?”

“He doesn’t need it! Unless, he’s not actually here just to rebuild.” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Fine.” Hordak drew back. “Then we will return to Dryl.”

Adora blinked. “You. You’d break the treaty over this?”

His features were drawn into a scowl. “I did not come here to be humiliated.”

“It’s just armor!” Mermista said.

He sneered, but Entrapta popped up between them. “Can we talk in private?” she asked, looking at Hordak and Adora. “Just the three of us?”

Hordak huffed. “Fine.” He marched back into the ship. Entrapta grinned at Adora before bounding after him. Bow, Glimmer, and Catra made as if to follow, but Adora motioned them back.

“I’ve got this,” she said. She eyed Mermista and dropped her voice. “Why don’t you guys try to settle things out here?” With one last reassuring wave, she too stepped back onboard.

Inside, Hordak paced, his ears drawn back and his hands clenched tight. Every bit of his body language screamed, ‘do not approach’, but Entrapta seemed completely unaware of the unspoken warning in his posture and expression. Adora squeaked and reached for her, too late. “Entrapta!” she hissed, but Entrapta had already stopped directly in Hordak’s path. He drew up short, and her hair coiled loosely around his limbs.

“I am not taking off my armor,” he snapped, towering over her.

“I know!” She, for whatever reason, drew even closer to him. The skin on the back of Adora’s neck prickled, but Entrapta seemed heedless to any danger. She just stood up on her hair and reached for him. He glared at her hand.

“No.” His voice was firm, undercut by a low growl. “Not. Now.”

Only then did she back off a little, giving him more space. “Okay, fair enough. You don’t want to break the treaty, though, right?”

“I am breaking nothing!” He threw his arms out, starting to pace again, but Entrapta only darted to the side and stepped in front of him again, still holding him loosely with her hair. “She is making up new rules!” he snarled, nearly nose to nasal ridge with her. “I did not agree to that!”

“I know! I know. It’s not fair. But, now this is important, you don’t want to break the treaty, do you?” she asked with careful emphasis. “Because we could just steal Darla and ride off into space right now. That is an option, if you’d rather do that.”

He blinked, and Adora’s eyes widened. She took a step back, wondering if she could get out of the ship and back to the others without being noticed. A rope of hair coiled around her wrist, squeezing. Was that a threat? Or reassurance? Adora watched them both closely, then swallowing, chose to trust Entrapta. She could only hope she knew what she was doing.

“Hordak?”

He exhaled slowly, and Adora’s eyes widened. Anger lingered in the growl that undercut his voice, but she could see him trying to force it back to give Entrapta a logical answer. “I do not want to break the treaty. I want to help rebuild what destruction Horde Prime and...” Another slow exhale. “And I have caused. But I will not subject myself to humiliation in order to salve her pride.”

“Great!” Entrapta darted away from him, now focusing on Adora. “Adora, if we show you why Hordak needs his armor, will you talk to Mermista?”

Adora, frozen, looked between them. Entrapta seemed earnest and eager. Hordak was harder to read. He was still scowling, and he’d crossed his arms, studying Adora as carefully as she studied him. That strange, subtle otherness within her—the thing that made her She-Ra—stirred. There was more here, something she couldn’t yet see, but she could sense it. “Yes,” she said slowly, nodding.

Entrapta turned back to him. “Hordak? Will you show her?”

His ears drew back. “You trust her?” His voice was oddly soft. It was an honest question, with no hint of accusation or his earlier rage. He sounded hesitant, unsure of himself.

Entrapta gave it a moment of thought. “I do.”

Hordak nodded—not in agreement. Not yet. He folded his hands behind his back and lowered his gaze, thinking. Just as Adora began to feel antsy about the extended quiet, he speared her with a look. “You will speak of this to no one. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” She nodded. The weight of the word settled heavily in her chest.

“Entrapta, will you assist me?”

“Of course!”

He brought his hand to his sternum, and for the first time, she truly took note of the crystal at his throat. It clashed with his color scheme, a better match to Entrapta’s colors than to his, but even more jarring was the subtle whisper of meaning she caught when she saw the lettering on its surface.

‘LUVD.’

She glanced at Entrapta, swallowing as she truly began to understand what she was seeing.

Hordak popped the chip out of his armor, and Entrapta’s hair went to work, pulling the metal exoskeleton free of his body and disconnecting it from several ports that Adora knew the other clones did not have. She didn’t miss the way a stray rope of hair caressed his cheek, though the touch lasted only a moment.

When she was finished, Entrapta remained at his side, one hand on his lower back to offer support. With the armor off, Adora could now see his withered arms, his discolored skin, and worst of all, the holes in his forearms. “You’re sick,” she said, stepping forward.

“Something like that,” Entrapta replied. “It’s more like a disability.”

“Defect,” he corrected. His voice was rough and angry, but under the anger, Adora could see the shame.

The part of her that was Shadow Weaver’s ward knew that this knowledge could be used against him, understood that this was a vulnerability that could be exploited. She carefully set that line of thinking aside, and instead reached for the part of herself that had healed Catra, that had cast out Prime and put him to rest. She pressed her hand to Hordak’s chest, and he jolted, but didn’t pull away. Her power washed through him...but nothing changed. Whatever kind of illness or disability this was, her powers had no effect. But she could feel the shadow it cast on his soul, and the places where that shadow had lifted and loosened, if only slightly. Slowly but surely, he was healing, in mind if not in body.

She drew away. Before she could speak, Entrapta was in front of her, hair tugging on her hands. “What was that? What did you do? Can you do it again? Will you show me!?”

Adora blinked. “Uh.” She looked at Hordak, and he cleared his throat, gently laying a hand on Entrapta’s shoulder.

“Oh. Whoops.” She smiled sheepishly. “You can show me later,” Entrapta said, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“Have you seen enough, She-Ra?”

She gave a stiff nod. “Yes. I’ll...” She lifted her chin, straightening her spine. “I’ll speak to Mermista. You can put your armor back on.”

He nodded gruffly. It was likely the closest thing she’d get to a thank you.

Mermista huffed and complained, but in the end, she conceded the point. From there, they all went their separate ways. Seahawk, as predicted, dragged Bow off to whatever seedy tavern was his preferred hangout at the moment. Mermista and Glimmer left to meet with various advisors and nobles, discussing something that Adora honestly hadn’t found interesting enough to remember. Hordak left to speak to Salineas’ engineers, while Entrapta and Imp trailed behind, exploring the ruins of Salineas.

Which left Catra and Adora to themselves, with no assigned job, no responsibilities. They grinned at each other and raced to the beach, throwing stray elbows and flinging obstacles in each others’ path as they ran. Together, they collapsed on the beach, basking in the warmth of the sand beneath them and the sun overhead. Gulls called, and Adora inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the sea. They stripped down to their underclothes to swim, and later, when they kissed, Adora could taste salt on Catra’s lips, her jaw, her neck.

After the sun dipped behind the horizon, they built a small fire and huddled together on the beach. Catra disappeared for a while, reappearing with a brown bottle she refused to admit was stolen, but she did admit that she wasn’t sure what kind of alcohol it contained. They traded it back and forth regardless.

“Your jus’ tryna get me drunk,” Adora said, pushing the bottle away when she’d attained a pleasant buzz.

“Hmph. Sure. ‘Trying’.”

“Pssshaw.” Adora waved her off. “I’m not drunk! That’s ridiculous. You’re—you’re ridiculous.” She giggled.

Catra shook her head, but she set the bottle aside and pulled Adora close, looping an arm over her shoulders. The fire crackled and the waves crashed, and Adora was sure she could never love someone as deeply as she loved Catra in that moment.

So, naturally, something had to spoil it.

Catra squinted, staring at a distant cliff. “Is that...Hordak and Entrapta?”

No longer feeling quite as pleasantly buzzed, Adora asked, “Oh, no—are they trying to steal the spaceship?”

“What? No. They’re just— Wait. Why was that your first guess?”

“Uh. It might’ve come up when I was talking to them earlier.”

Catra snorted. “I’m surprised they haven’t. I would’ve, in their shoes.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“I would if you’d agreed to come with me.” They exchanged a look, smiling softly. Then Catra looked away, shaking her head. “I wonder why he’s bothering with all this, you know?” She gestured to Salineas. “He and Entrapta could just leave. They wouldn’t even have to steal our spaceship—those two could definitely build their own, if they wanted.”

“Huh. I guess I never thought about it. It just seemed natural to me. That he’d want to fix things.”

“Hmmph. You would think that.” No matter how she tried to make that sound like an insult, Adora could hear the fondness in her voice. She cuddled closer, and Catra pressed a kiss to the side of her head. For a while, they were quiet. The fire dimmed and Catra got up to add more wood, poking it with a stick. She looked back at the high cliff, where Hordak and Entrapta’s silhouettes were still visible. Her ears folded back and her brows drew down. Her mouth pressed into a thin line.

Adora leaned forward. “What’s on your mind?”

Catra huffed and looked away from them, ears still folded back. “Is it weird that I’m kind of...worried about him?”

“Who, Hordak?”

Catra nodded. “Yeah. It’s just....” She dropped to the sand with a huff, pulling her knees up to her chest. “On Prime’s ship....” Her features darkened, and she shook her head. “I told you about the slime pit, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He literally asked.... He knelt in front of Prime, and he asked to be ‘purified’.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Because I reminded him that he had a name. He asked Prime to torture him because I reminded him he was a person. There’s no way you can just be okay after something like that, right?” She exhaled shakily, and Adora moved close, sensing that this wasn’t just about Hordak. She threw her arm over Catra’s shoulders, pulling her in.

“I think he’s doing pretty okay,” she said, “He’s healing. Getting better day by day.” She rested her chin on Catra’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think Entrapta’s keeping an eye on him. I mean—they’re out stargazing! That’s actually kind of sweet.”

Catra snorted. “Only because you can’t hear them. ‘Entrapta,’” she pitched her voice comically low. “‘Would you like to know the chemical makeup of that star cluster there?’ ‘Oh, Hordak, you don’t have to tell me—I already know everything!’”

Adora snorted, ruffling Catra’s hair. “Stop it! They are not saying that.”

“Wanna find out?”

“We are not spying on Hordak and Entrapta.”

“Ugh. When did you get so boring?”

“Boring, huh?”

Adora kissed her, and they both soon forgot about Hordak and Entrapta entirely.

A/N: Oof. Not sure I have a handle on Adora and Catra. Apologies.

#intimacy log #entrapdak #catradora #adora #hordak #entrapta #catra #mermista #bow #glimmer #seahawk #my writing #ableist language #ableism #slime pit torture

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