#cr fanfic
hey friends!! been a while, I know… but hey, here’s some modern AU perc’ahlia! inspired by the prompt ‘carnival’ and kind of sad but also kind of happy (my favourite)
Pairing:perc’ahlia
Words:4580
Rated: T
Link: ao3
a modern au about winning bears at carnivals
The first time Vex’ahlia saw Trinket, she let out a delighted chuckle.
Gilmore was showing them all of the prizes the kids could win at his shooting game at the annual Emon carnival. He’d pulled it all together at record speed. Apparently, his diner was going through just a tiny bit of a dip in visits, so he wanted to lure in some more families with younger kids by participating in the carnival and plastering his logo on everything he sold. He told Vex and Vax about it a couple of weeks ago and flirted with both of them until they gave in and promised that they’d help out. Vax would help out at the waffle stand and Vex was going to run the shooting game stand a few lanes over.
The game was fairly simple: customers had to hit a couple of unicorn-themed targets with a small plastic gun that shot tiny squishy balls. If they couldn’t hit any, they got a consolation prize, a discount for a waffle at Gilmore’s other stand. But if they did manage to get some hits in, there was a variety of small, cute prizes for them to pick from. And the biggest prize was a huge bear plushie.
Vex’s eyes shone brightly as she looked the bear over. When her brother saw what she was looking at, he snorted. Then he reached out and took her hand. He got it, of course.
When they were six, their mother took them to a carnival. The big prize for one of the games was a huge bear plushie just like this one. Weirdly realistic, kind of menacing, absolutely perfect for her. She’d spent a stupid amount of time trying to win it, but money was tight, and when she noticed her mom’s guilty expression every time she opened her wallet, she let it go. It didn’t stop her from walking by the stall a couple of more times, just to see the bear. She made up a story where she’d rescue him from his carnival prison and he would be her best friend. Together, they’d go an adventure. Vax too, of course. He was part of all of her adventures.
Quietly giving up on that bear was a turning point in her life. It was the moment she realised that her mom needed her help. Her mom needed her to be strong and happy with the tiniest things. Her mom needed her to stop wanting things.
Vex’ahlia never stopped wanting things.
She hadn’t thought of that bear in years. Her life had a bunch of other turning points that kind of took the spotlight away from it. Losing their mother to cancer. Moving in with their horrible father. Finally leaving his house the second she and Vax turned eighteen.
That last one got their lives onto a better track, though. Things got better after they left the Vessar family behind. It was rough at first, of course, trying to make a living, but they’d saved up money while they still lived with their father for that exact purpose, so things never got out of hand. They took any jobs they could for a while, and then they went into the food business. They opened their bakery when they were twenty-four. Thanks to Vax’s creativity and Vex’s eye for business, it took off after a year.
It was a little poetic that the bear came back into her life after all that.
She walked up to it and patted one of its arms, greeting it like an old friend. Gilmore had no idea what was happening and his head was too full to ask, so he just told her to get acquainted with the place before the opening the day after and dragged Vax off to see to the waffle stand.
Vex watched them go with a smile on her face and turned back to the bear. “It’s you and me again, buddy,” she told it. She grabbed its paw and shook it. “Nice to finally meet you. This is going to be fun.”
And it wasfun.
Their bakery hadn’t made it through the selection process for the food stands at the carnival, but this way she could still show her face to prospective customers. People knew her as Vex from the bakery, so every time she chatted with them and handed out prizes to the children, she knew that she was putting her bakery back into their heads. The bakery was open, of course; their employees were running it during these weeks. Vex knew exactly how to pepper that fact into conversation.
Gilmore’s game was deceptively simple, so most customers left with a nice prize. The discount system worked too: Vax told her that most of the people who won a discount code showed up to get their waffles and spent some extra money on drinks and special toppings. Gilmore’s business was booming. And according to JP, the bakery was seeing customers too, despite the carnival.
The shifts were very long, but Vex didn’t mind. After the carnival she’d be beat for a couple of days, but for now she was thriving. She loved commerce. She loved carnivals. And Vax brought her waffles.
She ran the stand by herself, which kept her very busy during rush hours, but she preferred it that way. She liked having full control over the entire place. It reminded her of the first year at the bakery, when Vax and her were the only people keeping the place together. It was a little weird not to have Vax there, sometimes, considering that comparison, but every time she felt that she could just turn to Trinket.
She named him Trinket because all of the prizes were trinkets, and because he was adorable. Every morning when she came in, she patted him on his arm and told him good morning. A few days into the carnival, everyone knew that Vex had made friends with the giant bear at the shooting stand. She would stand next to it when the children were shooting and pretend to talk to it about how incredible their aim was. She’d frown and nod like she was listening to a response and tell the children that Trinket thought that they were awesome. No one came close to winning him, of course. You needed seriously good aim to get all of the targets, and for the big prize there was a time limit too.
Of course, some people couldn’t resist teasing her about her friendship with the bear. Like the handsome engineer who fixed broken games all day
He caught her eye as early as the second day of the carnival. He was called in to fix the Wack-A-Mole came right opposite to Vex’s stand and Vex absolutely did a double take when he came walking up.
He was wearing the same blue uniform as all the other engineers at the carnival did, but there was something different about him. He held himself as straight as a rod, every movement efficient and sharp. He wore glasses, golden-rimmed, and his shoes might be well-worn, they were clearly very high quality.
Money, she concluded with a surprise. You didn’t usually spot people with money doing jobs like this. He must enjoy it.
There was a lull in business around the time the engineer worked the Wack-A-Mole, so she had all the time in the world to send glances his way and check him out as he worked. He disappeared behind the machine for a while, but eventually he came back out, covered in grime and dirt and slightly sweaty. He wiped his hand over his forehead, still holding a wrench, and then he looked up and stared straight at her.
He looked eerily composed for someone who had just done some very dirty work. Something inside of Vex jumped to attention.
The engineer turned back to the guy running the Wack-A-Mole without saying anything and told him that there shouldn’t be any more problems with the machine. Vex made sure to busy herself at the till as they said their goodbyes, somehow knowing that he wouldn’t just leave. And she was right. Footsteps came up to her stand and halted, and when she looked up with her customer service smile, she found the handsome engineer.
“You must be bored,” he said. His voice was smooth and perfect, like whiskey down her throat. Lovely.
“Itis rather quiet at the moment,” she replied, her smile fading into a more sincere one, “But the past half hour has been pretty entertaining.”
He smiled back. “You have a pretty intense stare.”
She leaned against the counter. “Being subtle is overrated, don’t you think?”
“Oh yes,” he said, “It has a time and a place.” He smiled again. “I’m Percy. I’d shake your hand, but…” He wiggled his grimy fingers. “Perhaps some other time.”
“I suppose we could do introductions without the traditional handshake,” Vex teased, “I’m Vex’ahlia.”
“Vex’ahlia,” he repeated, “Nice to meet you. You work with Gilmore?”
“Temporarily. He’s a friend. My brother and I own the bakery on sixth.”
“You didn’t get a spot with the stands?”
She shrugged. “Too many applicants. We’ll try again next year.”
“Shame. You make a mean cinnamon roll.”
Vex laughed. She was very proud of their cinnamon rolls. “You’re a fan, are you? I don’t remember seeing you around. I’m sure I would.”
He patted his head. “Is it the hair?”
Hedid have a very distinctive shock of white hair. But they’d already established her opinion on subtlety.
“That, and your face.”
He snorted and shot her a look. She just grinned back at him unabashedly.
“My sister usually picks them up,” he said, ignoring her compliment, “We have them for our Sunday brunch.”
Vex smiled. “What a lovely idea. We also have a great brioche every week. It makes for some really delicious French toast. Perfect for a brunch.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you trying to flirt me into spending more money, Vex’ahlia?”
She laughed and sent him a mischievous look. “I merely want you to have the best brunch experience as possible, Percy. We just happen to offer the best product.”
He looked her over and waved his finger at her. “You’re dangerous,” he concluded.
“Absolutely. But you don’t look like you scare easily.”
He grinned. “I do not.”
“Then I expect I’ll see you around.”
“You’d be wise to.”
“I am sowise.”
He came by every day after that. Usually, he just chatted her up during one of his shifts. His work took him everywhere around the carnival and he passed by her stand often enough to just have a brief moment to flirt with her. He was a good flirter. She was enjoying herself.
The first time he caught her doing her little act with Trinket in front of some kids, he hid his laughter behind a fist. It was busy, so he didn’t say anything at the time, but when he came back later that day he had a twinkle in his eye that told her that he hadn’t forgotten.
“You never introduced us,” he said as he approached.
Vex sighed, catching his meaning, and patted Trinket on his arm. “Do you hear that, buddy? We’ve made Percy question himself.”
“Well, the two of you are clearly very close.” Percy leaned against the counter, cocking his head at her. “A man can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason you didn’t want us to meet.”
She crossed her arms. “Not every guy gets to meet my pet bear.”
“You wound me.”
She laughed. Over the days, Percy had really made an impression on her. There was something about the way he looked at her, something sharp and perceptive, that made her feel seen in a way that she usually didn’t. Plus, he could dish it out as well as he took it. That was rare, in her experience.
She was called away to let some kids play the game and his gaze drifted over to the targets. Sometimes, when he watched someone play it, he started tapping his fingers against his thigh. There was a nervous energy to him when he watched someone shoot.
Vex smiled to herself and told Trinket that the girl was doing incredible. Once the child left with her prize, a plastic unicorn the size of a microwave, she sauntered back over to Percy.
“Just do it,” she said.
He turned his gaze on her. “Do what?”
She nodded to the game. “Give it a try. You clearly want to.”
He laughed.
She absolutely adored his laughter.
“It does seem fun,” he admitted, his eyes still twinkling joyfully.
“Well, go for it.” She winked at him. “Give me your money, Percy.”
“You won’t even give me a discount?”
“Percy, I am a businesswoman.”
He snorted and flexed his fingers, looking back at the targets. “Alright. Sure.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out some coins, depositing them in Vex’s outstretched hand. She put them in the till as he picked up the tiny plastic gun. It looked ridiculous in his large hands; a hilarious sight that she was trying not to laugh at. She didn’t want to break his concentration.
He weighed the thing in his hands for a second and then brought it up. His fingers flexed one more time. Then he pulled the trigger.
He hit the first target easily. “A strong start,” Vex told Trinket appreciatively.
His lips quirked up into a lop-sided smile, but he didn’t look away from the game. He shot again.
Hit.
Again.
Hit.
By this point, Vex was watching him with a bemused grin. He was good. Where did he get that kind of aim?
She checked the prize ratings to see what he was going to get if he kept this up.
He missed the next one and cursed, but Vex felt a rush of relief as she realised he wasn’t going to get a perfect score. She patted Trinket’s arm.
He hit the next three, then missed the last two. All in all, it was the best score anyone had gotten as of yet.
“Impressive,” she said as he put the plastic gun back down. She turned to the prizes to pull down an extensive embroidery set (unicorn-pattern included). “Much experience with fire arms?”
“In a way. I work at the paintball range just out of town.”
“Really?”
This man really loved to get down and dirty, huh?
She held out his prize to him. “That’s pretty cool. Is everyone there as good as you are?”
Percy tentatively took the embroidery set out of her hands, looking at it like it was a lost child he had no idea what to do with. “Not really. But they’re decent enough.”
She laughed at his expression and his blunt confidence. The sound of it drew his gaze back to her, and he sent her that enticing half-smile again.
“Well,I’mcertainly impressed,” she told him, trying not to blush. Her heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled at her like that, and it was ridiculously embarrassing, even if he couldn’t tell.
Percy hummed and looked back at the game. “Don’t be impressed yet.”
She arched an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t give her an explanation. Instead, he got back to work, leaving her with a wave of his hand and a row of question marks on her mind, the embroidery set tucked underneath his arm. The question marks disappeared soon enough, because business picked up again after that.
Something in had changed, though. After that, he tried the game every day. He started hitting the fourth target pretty quickly, but the last two still eluded him. They were pretty challenging, and the little plastic gun clearly wasn’t his preferred weapon.
It was Vex’s favourite part of the day. Percy would come by, usually bringing her a drink or a snack or just a snarky comment about someone at the carnival, he’d hand her some cash and then he’d try the game. He didn’t get frustrated when he couldn’t hit everything, but he was never truly content with his work either. He just stared at the last two targets sometimes, cogs in his head clearly whirling, trying to figure out how to make this work. But he never stayed too long – he always got back to work right when he was supposed to. Percy was nothing if not punctual. Plus, he loved his work here. She could tell from the way he talked about it.
Vex was having the time of her life. Not even her brother’s teasing about Percy could dull her sheer joy.
Then one day, Percy hit the eighth target.
Vex couldn’t deny the way her stomach dropped when the squishy little ball hit the target. Percy looked better than he ever did, staring at it with a fire in his eyes that made him seem invincible. But Vex couldn’t focus on it, because she was too busy clutching the huge artificial bear beside her.
Percy brought up the gun again, and part of her wanted to call out for him to stop. Panic hit her like a freight train and she held her breath.
He missed.
Vex breathed out and tried to still her shaking fingers. Percy was frowning at the target, clearly discontent. She laughed to relieve some of her own tension.
“Don’t feel bad, darling,” she said, “The last one is a real killer. I think it was made to be impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible,” Percy said. He eyed the ninth target again, still holding the gun as if he might try again.
“Until when were you on break?” Vex asked quickly, “Five to? Because then you should be getting back to work.”
Percy nodded and put down the gun, turning to smile at her. “You’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Vex’ahlia.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She waved at him before he disappeared into the crowd. Then her smile dropped from her face.
She tried to shake off the tension in her neck and shoulders. She was doing customer service, for God’s sake. She had to look welcoming.
She plastered her smile back on and tried to forget.
She thought it worked right up until Percy came back the next day, a smile on his face and his money already in his hand. Immediately, her shoulders tensed up again.
She smiled back at him. “Back to give it another try, then?”
“I’m going to get it one of these days.”
“Oh, well… There’s only five days left. You might have to concede.”
Percy handed her the money, his eyes already on the targets. “Not I, Vex’ahlia. Not I.”
Vex’s heart was in her throat from the moment he picked up the gun to the second he put it back down. He still couldn’t hit the ninth target, but she was getting seriously nervous. He’d managed to go from hitting the first seven to the first eight in… What, three days? There were still five days of the carnival left. The ninth target was definitely the hardest to hit, but, contrary to what she said before, it wasn’t impossible. He just needed some seriously good aim and a healthy dose of luck.
She looked at her bear. She felt jittery and uncomfortable, like she’d had too much caffeine.
“Are you alright?” Percy asked, a worried frown between his eyes.
Vex almost jumped. “What? Yes. I’m fine.”
She was being short with him, but for some reason he was annoying her right then.
He didn’t seem to pick up on it. Instead, he just nodded and said his goodbyes before heading back out into the fray.
Vex couldn’t calm down for the rest of the day. She kept glancing at Trinket, standing beside her all big and strong and dependable. She wouldn’t admit to it, but she’d been secretly thinking about taking him home after the carnival was done. She was sure she could give Gilmore a fair price for him. After all, she was now at an age where she could indulge herself. She could have the huge bear plushie if she wanted to. She could take him if no one else did.
After her shift ended that night, she looked up Gilmore. She couldn’t help herself.
“Shaun,” she said, making her voice and smile as warm and inviting as possible.
He arched an eyebrow at her, already suspicious.
Vex dropped the act. She frowned. “Is there a way to make sure that no one wins the main prize?”
“What?”
She was about to repeat her question when he held up a hand to silence her. “That’s illegal, Vex. We’re not doing that.”
“But is there?” she pushed.
Gilmore sighed and stepped up to her, sending her one of his own signature dazzling grins. “Vex’ahlia. Darling. If you mess with the mechanics of my game, I will snap your neck like a twig.”
Vex repressed an angry pout and turned away from him. “I was just joking,” she snapped. She straightened out her shirt and left him.
The next few days, she had to physically restrain herself from biting her nails while on shift. The jittery energy she’d felt the day Percy hit the eighth target was a constant now. She kept bouncing her leg and rolling a coin between her fingers. She did breathing exercises to keep herself from rushing the customers, but she couldn’t help the turbulent river of nervousness that coursed through her own body. The sight of Percy’s white shock of hair in the crowd was no longer something that she looked forward to. Instead, every day she crossed her fingers that that day he’d be too busy to visit.
He never was, of course. No, he showed up every day, at a different moment, catching her off guard just as business lulled for a moment. First, she’d draw him into conversation, asking him about his work, his family, his hobbies, anything. She flirted excessively, trying to keep his attention fully occupied. But, about five minutes before his break would end, he’d hand her the money and pick up the gun.
She hated him a little bit in those moments. Couldn’t this guy take a fucking hint?
But he still hadn’t hit the ninth target by the time the last day of the carnival arrived. Vex dared to be a little hopeful. The odds were against him, at least, and she’d talked to Gilmore about taking Trinket home after the carnival. As long as they got through this day, her buddy would have a permanent place in her living room. But she hadn’t yet cleared out a spot. She didn’t have that kind of confidence yet.
When Percy came to the shooting stand that day, it felt like the moment that the entirety of these two weeks had led up to. She kind of felt like there should be a crowd for this. Someone should be paying attention, at least. Instead, everyone around them was just having their regular fun. Someone was cackling at the Wack-A-Mole stand. A mother was chastising her child for holding their ice-cream a little loosely. In the distance, they could hear the excited yelling of people on one of the more exciting rides.
Percy smiled at her as he gave her the money for the game. “One more try,” he said conspiratorially.
Vex forced a laugh that sounded hollow to her own ears, clutching the money in her hands.
She refused to hold onto Trinket as Percy picked up the gun. Instead, she crossed her arms, hunching her shoulders a little. She felt small, and she hated it. She hated that she cared about this. She hated that she couldn’t talk about it.
She was six years old again, walking past that carnival game just to steal another glance.
Percy hit the first five targets easily. He moved in a smooth line now, quick as a dancer. He was beautiful.
He took a breath before he hit the sixth. Took a second. Hit the seventh. The eighth.
Vex’ahlia held her breath. Her heart was racing. For some reason, fight or flight was kicking in, and she had the incredible urge to break something. She wanted to punch his pretty face.
Percy angled the gun. He moved his hand a hairbreadth. Settled.
Vex followed the little ball with her eyes as it shot towards the ninth target. She watched it sail right into it with an audible plop.
Bells went off. She was pretty sure a confetti gun covered the entire place in colourful paper. She didn’t care.
Tears rushed into her eyes. She was six years old, and she had to walk past the carnival stand. She had to give up the bear.
She looked up and caught the tail-end of an adorable dorky victory dance that Percy was doing. He had a grin on his face that could light up the night sky.
She turned away quickly, palming at her eyes to get rid of the tears. She took a deep breath.
She was twenty-seven. It was time to give up the bear.
“Congratulations!” she said, turning back to Percy with a smile.
His grin had faded into a content smirk. “I knew I could do it. I just had to get it right.”
“It’s a real feat.”
She tried to keep her voice peppy. Percy was a good guy. She liked Percy. It was just a bear.
He was basking in his own satisfaction. “Can I come pet him?” he asked her, a tease to his voice.
Vex forced a laugh and waved him over to the stand’s entry point. “Of course. He’s all yours.”
Percy entered the stand and stepped up into her space since the first time she met him. He was a little taller than she was, and he smelled like oil and caramel apples. He had her favourite smile on his face, but she couldn’t enjoy it.
She turned her face away and led him to Trinket. “Here he is! The man himself.”
“An honour to finally meet you,” Percy said, patting Trinket’s paw with his hand.
Vex bit her cheek.
“So,” Percy said casually, glancing at her, “What are you going to do with him?”
She blinked slowly. “What?”
“The bear,” Percy said, “Where are you going to put him? He’s pretty big.”
“Where am I going to put him?”
“Well, yes.” Percy turned his body towards her and crossed his arms, smiling down at her. His eyes had a boyish glint to them. “I’m not going to separate a lady from her pet bear. What do you take me for?”
Vex needed another few moments to wrap her head around what he was telling her. “What? You… What, you’re… You’re… Wait, you’re giving me the bear? You wonit.”
“I think you’ll give him a better home than I would. Besides, isn’t this customary? Winning a prize for your date?”
“You…” Vex’ahlia let out a laugh. All of the tension she’d accumulated dispersed in one cackling bout of laughter. When she finally wiped the tears from her eyes, Percy was looking at her a little weird, although not at all displeased.
“I didn’t know we were on a date,” she said finally. Her hand reached for Trinket instinctively, and when she touched him, she knew that she could finally take him home.
She was twenty-seven. This bear was hers.
I did manage to get one fic ready to go before the week hit! It’s an expansion of a flash fic I did on a prompt forever ago, and it’s about double the size now. Post-chantry, Beau goes up to their room to find Yasha trying to clean skingorger and trapped instead in a miasma of guilt and grief.
Day 5: hands (and a touch of warmth)
Prologue
Rexxentrum by night is a city in turmoil. Every morning, its mortal inhabitants wake up. They bring their children to school, they study, go to work. They spend their days enjoying the rare rays of sun, oblivious to those that stalk the night. After the moons rise and the mortals take to their beds, the streets belong to the vampires that inhabit the tunnels underneath the city, that live in the shadows of alleys and dark apartments. Vampires, although they shun that term and refer to themselves as Kindred, have ruled Rexxentrum for centuries, the mortals none the wiser- as it should be.
Centuries ago, a group of powerful Kindred formed an alliance to combat the mortals hunting them. They called themselves the Camarilla and vowed to do anything to protect their kind from going extinct. They fought, yes, but more importantly, they came up with an elaborate set of rules for vampires everywhere. The most important of these was the Masquerade: remain hidden from mortals, do not reveal the secrecy of kindred. It proved effective: vampires returned to legends; the hunting stopped. The Camarilla, however, did not. They grew in power, reminding kindred they were the reason they were safe. Their Princes enforced the Traditions strictly, but not all Kindred accepted the rule of the Camarilla. These Kindred organised themselves free of clan and became known as the Anarchs.
We begin our story in Rexxentrum. Here, Prince Trent Ikithon enforces the rules of the Masquerade brutally, but whispers on the moonlit streets have it that his influence extends far beyond the clans of kindred that call the city their home. His scourgers are ruthless in locating any Kindred, anarch or otherwise, who dares to raise criticism against him. However, some say he is in league with the Second Inquisition, a government force set on eradicating vampires once and for all. Others claim he is in fact allied with the dangerous Krynn, an empire of Kindred in the northern lands of Xhorhas.
A ragtag group of kindred, the coterie known as the Mighty Nein, are plotting to overthrow the prince once and for all. Their efforts thus far have primarily focused on convincing scourgers to change sides, on sabotaging the Prince’s public appearances, but the next step is revolution. A revolution to get rid of Prince Ikithon’s ruthless rule once and for all, to expose his dangerous alliances with the Inquisition and the Krynn, and to prove his creation of child soldiers. The revolution will have to wait, however.
An uneasy truce was called between the Camarilla and the Anarchs when, just a few months ago, an unfamiliar group of Kindred settled in the city. They remained on the outskirts at first, but soon dared to move closer, and closer. The Worshippers of the Angel of Irons, they call themselves, and they promise to bring liberation and freedom to all Kindred by unleashing the ancient vampire, the one they claim to be the firstborn Kindred, known as the First Undying, the Chained Oblivion. For the Coterie, the threat of this cult becomes personal when one of their own is taken by the cult’s charismatic leader, Obann.
The bed creaked a soft inquiry behind Yasha, hushed beneath her muffled sobs. She didn’t turn to look, didn’t need to. The untreated wood of the windowsill bit sharp relief into Yasha’s sweaty forehead as moonlight spilled silver over her naked shoulders.
“Yasha?” Beau’s voice rasped with sleep from bed. Yasha fought with herself to stay still and silent as a sob rattled between her lungs.
the heart is a haunted home
Well folks, the last chapter of my Bly Manor-inspired beauyasha fic is finally up.
The gals get down and dirty, in more ways than one, and fitful ghosts are laid to rest.
Oh my god I finished the whump fic.
50k and more of one Beauregard Lionett being put through an unreality ringer, separated from her friends for a day in real time and held for weeks in a pocket of distorted time. Singled out specifically for the will and the love of freedom that defines her and broken from the inside by a god and its helpers.
And then put back together with the help of the Nein, because obviously. Much of what happened is explained. Enough. There are a few threads left. That’s okay. They’re not the big ones.
Eleven chapters, sixteen months. Damn. Proud of it.
He is gone and Yasha is back. If it were just that simple.
Turns out, a mind learning to be in full charge of its own body again is very overwhelming, especially when all Yasha wants to do is lose her consciousness to sleep and feel nothing, think nothing. Not think of the threat she’ll always pose to her friends, or the blood she isn’t sure she’s managed to fully scrub off her hands.
When it gets too much and Yasha has to get up and step outside, Beau follows her to make sure she’s not already running again. And maybe to get some things off her chest, because Yasha’s not the only one who couldn’t sleep.
I wrote (or more correctly am still in the process of writing) what’s pretty much a Yasha Fresh Out Of Obann’s Grasp Character Study. It’s probably going to be 3 chapters long and will include NSFW content in the last chapter, although not overly descriptive because that’s not really the point of it. It’s very much an exploration of a whole lot of emotions - pain as well as hope - and how they deal with them.
Post-episode c2e87 fanfic, Yasha’s POV, after the Cathedral fight. Very much emotional hurt/comfort
Read it on AO3: [Link]
Prompt: Shadowgast have been arguing for some time about Caleb’s decision to end their romantic relationship later in his life; an injury brings the discussion to a head
(~1k words, cw: lifespan angst)
-
“Essek!”
As soon as the fight is done, the abyssal beast finally dead (if still horrific), Caleb runs to the sprawled form of his companion as fast as his creaky knees will take him. He carelessly drops his staff — as much a walking aid as an arcane focus, these days — and bloodies his hands trying to staunch Essek’s wounds. Jester is close behind, healing magic wielded like a weapon as she slams it into his unconscious form. Essek gasps awake; his next sound is a groan.
“Never do something so foolish again,” Caleb grits out, his shaking hands moving almost of their own accord as he checks Essek over for wounds, urging Jester for another dose of healing. She eventually leans back on her hands, exhausted, and calls Caduceus over in her stead.
When Caleb impatiently unbuttons Essek’s tunic to check where the creature stabbed him with a long spine, Essek cracks a wan smile.
“You are being very familiar for someone who is no longer my lover.”
will you carry my heart (with yours for a little while)
➤ fjord finds jester in the crow’s nest
➤ post-c2 fjorester | 1/1 | g | 1.1k
➤ fjorester week | day 5: water
