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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

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I'm reading too many fanfics and today I want something more cute than romantic, so I would like Stella with an S/o to be her personal butler who took care of her during her childhood and adolescence (bonus if S/o used to sing to Stella when she was a kid) . obviously the S / o must have a great preparation to be worthy of taking care of the daughter of the parents who were certainly one of the causes of Stella to be like this

Stella's personal Servant and S/O

You had spent years in preparation for when you would meet your mistress.

It was a common practice amongst the nobility.

You take a child from a lower house, train and raising them to become the personal servant to a child from a higher noble family.

You were of lower stock, your family heavily reliant on Stella's family, and being the youngest of your line, you found yourself chosen to be her servant.

Although the agreement basically surrendered one of there own to a life of servitude, it also brought prestige to there household, while also placing one of there own at the right hand of the next head of a powerful household.

Despite your years of training, you were still increadibly nervous upon meeting her, terrified you'd do something wrong and screw it up.

But much to your surprise, she wasn't some terrifying ice queen who could vapourise you with a glare.

She was just a girl. A young, normal looking noble girl. Seemingly not much older than you.

Your meeting was somewhat awkward, you being unsure how you should interact with her outside of the cold formalities you were taught.

Your relationship was an unusual one.

As while, yes you were her servant, you were also expected to be her closest allie and truest friend.

You were expected to take on every burden she had, to carry and guard them to the death.

A concept that hadn't fully registered in your young mind yet, but despite your age, you quickly acclimated to your new responsibilities.

You had, of course, been give training for your new duty, but much of it was learnt in the field.

You found yourself working into a schedule; wake up before her, get clean, have breakfast before waking her up at 7:30 sharp.

From there you would help her dress, something you were quite flustered about the first time around. Then you accompanied her to breakfast, then to her first lesson of the day.

You were often dismissed during her lessons, returning to her room to tidy up, or have her clothes cleaned.

It took time but eventually you were just as capable at cleaning and serving as any veteran servant of the household.

Now, initially Stella was quite... cold towards you. Treating you not much better than any other servant of the home.

But she did eventually warm to you, starting the night you heard her having a nightmare.

Much to her annoyance you had been moved into the room besides her, giving her 24 hour access to you, and you to her.

So you were easily capable of hearing her toss and turn in bed, her whimpers getting louder and louder. Until she awoke, with a scream.

You instantly shot into action, sliding into her room and pulled her into your embrace.

Holding her to your chest, you did your best to sooth her. Barely being a boy yourself you were quite inexperience with such things.

So you did the only thing you could, you sang to her.

You sung her the song your wet nurse used to sing you when you had a bad dream. Holding her for what felt like hours, gently singing to her until she fell back to sleep.

The next morning she insisted you call her Stella, unlike before when she demand the customary 'Lady' or 'Mistress'.

Not long after that she began addressing you by name. The two of you seeming to enter a level of mutual respect.

Similar events would happen several more times during your youth, each time you sang her the same song, holding her close and soothing her.

You brought up the nightmares to her parents, the two seemingly didn't care. Her parents just coldlt telling you 'They were something she needed to get over herself.'

And her parents weren't the warmest family, both her parents seemed obsessed with there appearances, placing politics over the well bing of there own daughter.

So you made her well-being your top priority, always asking if she was OK or if she wanted to talk.

In preparation for you new duties you had already received extensive training in everything from cleaning to first aid.

But as the the two of you grew, you began getting lessons in far more hands on fields.

As you were expected to be her faithful guardian. You were trained in various forms of combat, with everything from knives, to assault rifles.

Followed by several specialised first aid courses, each one dedicated to a different field of medicine.

You excelled through each course, taking the role as both servant and protector as your own.

Despite being younger then your charge, your mentality quickly matured beyond your years, willing and prepared to fight to the death for your charge.

You fully embraced you postion, putting aside everything you were and giving yourself to your new role, absolutely.

As the two of you grew older, you also grew closer and closer. And due to your special status as her personal servant, having less limitations put on you then a regular servant of the house, you could act as more of a friend to the girl. Acting as a trusted confidant for the girls troubles.

As you matured your skills, both physically and mentally, you learned to better dedicat your new skills to what would most efficiently aid your liege.

While you excelled in your training dedicating your self to the task before you, the main problem you faced was, Stella.

It may seem petty, but Stella being of a higher and more powerful cast meant she grew to tower over you by at least a foot.

Something she was sure to rub in your face.

And it may not seem like that big of a deal, but protecting someone much taller then you, was a constant struggle. As they were far more visible then yourself and could be targeted from angles you weren't able to see.

But you did your absolute best, going above and beyond as her steadfast companion, hapily waiting on her hand a foot.

It seemed like a blink if an eye and the beautiful young lady you once served had grown into a beautiful young woman.

And much to your shame, over the years spent together, you had developed a deep affection for her, an affection that went far beyond friendship.

Of course you would never publicly admit such a thing, your years of training alloweing you to keep such your feelings suppressed. Only allowing your affection to show through in what would be expected of a typical platonic relationship.

When Stella came to the age of 17, her parents decided to send her to an academy famous for its education of young noble women.

The problem was, it was an all girls academy. And you being her private servant, and right hand, the two of you could not be sepperated for such a long period of time.

It took a fair bit of political manoeuvring and more then a few favours to get you in, but by the end of it, you found yourself enrolled right besides her.

You were to attend every class as well as share quarters with Stella. You were not to leave her side unless absolutely necessary.

You were far from the only servant to accompany there mistress.

You found a variety of them, from Imps to hellhounds. You even saw a few succubus amongst them.

But the thing that really stood out, was that you were the only male, even amongst the staff.

Initially life at the academy went fantastic.

Stella, with her confident nature and families status thrived at the academy, easily rising the social ranks, making friends and allies.

The whole thing bringing a great sense of warmth to your black heart.

You stood back and proudly watched as she excelled amongst her peers, only having to step in to aid her in her day to day.

But unfortunately, problems did arise. And much to your shame, they were spawned from you.

Now, you had already received a fair amount of attention from the Student; Stares, love letters, lustful gazes. But you were there for Stella, the affects of there attention quickly dissipated as you focused on Stella.

Now you being a fairly attractive young man, in exceptional shape from years of work and being the only male in a school of a few hundred young hormonal women.

But initially, being Stella's servant stopped anyone from pursuing you, as relations with someone below them was punished severely by both the school and there families.

Unfortunately the question of who you were was quickly raised, Stella without much concern or thought, told them all about your special status as both a noble and a servant.

And that's were the problems really began.

You see, sleeping with another family's servant, was an excellent way to get yourself disowned by your family.

But a fling with a servant, whom was also a fellow noble... that could be tolerated.

You were greatly surprised to find just how tolerant the school was of such behaviour.

It would seem that despite there rather strict policy on student/Staff relations, that being pubished severely.

But the school was unwilling to take serious action against noble children for have relations amongst themselves.

It seemed they allowed the students to let out there rebellious phase in small ways, perhaps a method to help make them into proper nobles.

Needless to say, you had never been so happy you were Stella's servant.

You'd heard how some of them talked about you, and if Stella wasn't your mistress, your quite certain you'd be used as a tool for political gain, regardless how you felt about it.

Ironically, you found Stella becoming far more possessive of you, especially whenever someone began to show interest in you.

Now she had always been possessive of you to a degree, snapping at anyone who dared to treat you poorly or acted like you were supposed to serve them, something that happened quite often amongst nobility.

You liked to think it was her way of marking her territory, all the while showing you that she had your back. And with all the attention you were getting, it only made sense for her to be a bit more possessive.

Adding to your growing shame, seeing Stella becoming such a strong, confident woman had only strengthened your feelings for her.

In your mind, you had kept your feeling for Stella perfectly hidden. Only allowing your affection to show, through your friendly and platonic behaviour.

Apparently you were wrong.

Parties were surprisingly common on the school grounds, with a major party seemingly occurring at least once a month.

Stella being ever the socialite, was of course invited. The young lady flirtaciously telling you were invited as well. Following her to the party, you found a small herd of teens sipping wine from plastic cups, talking amongst themselves.

Playing nobility.

It was fun for the most part.

Everyone was dancing and drinking. And much to your surprise Stella was quite lax when it came to alcohol, drinking more than her fair share.

A little tipsy, she found you, demanding you dance with her.

Now you, on the other hand, did not party. You did not drink, you did not fraternise and you most certainly didn't dance.

You were her guardian, you were supposed to watch over her, not get drunk with her in some random dormroom.

But Stella ordered you, not having the will to refuse her, you complied.

You danced and drank and partied. And for the first time in your life, you let yourself he a teenager.

And you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being with Stella.

The mood quickly soured when, as Stella left to get a drink, some random girl grabbed you by the collar and rather aggressively tried to kiss you.

You were able to hold her back of course, even inebriated you were still strong enough to hold back a drunk teenage girl.

You were freaking out, unable to think of what to do, only for Stella to appear and violently rip her off you, beating the crap out of the her right there infront of all the other party goers.

She screamed at the girl, telling her to never touch what belonged to her again. Before without saying a word, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the party.

She dragged you into a nearby allyway, ranting and raving about how dare someone touch you, you belonged to her and she was sick of having to remind people.

Her words becoming progressively more possessive, you just half drunkenly stumbling your much taller mistress.

Raising the question of her increasingly possessive language, you saw her entire body shift.

Walking up to you, she pressed her body up against yours, effortlessly pinning you to the wall.

It was pointless to struggle, as even with all your training she was still stronger.

With eyes you had never seen before, she stared into your own and asked if you liked her.

You were both shocked and terrified, you were so sure you had been careful.

You sputtered something out, trying to hide your feelings before she cut you off with a passionate kiss.

She held you close as she told you all about how she knew you liked her, about how she knew you always held yourself back.

But she understood why.

You were left stunned when she told you the reason she knew why, was because she'd been doing the same. She confessed she had fallen for you, but like you, she had kept her feeling secret because such a relationshi wouldn't be "proper"!

But she didn't care anymore.

She was sick of keeping her feelings for you a secret, sick of watching other women get to speak and act freely while she was forced to hold her tongue.

She wanted you and she was going to have you, no matter what anyone thought.

She dragged you back to your dormroom, although it was more like a small apartment before dragging you to her bed.

Sitting above you she asked if you wanted this, unable to think of the right words you just gave her another passionate kiss.

The two of you spent the night together.

Your relationship was kept a secret for the rest of her time in the academy. The two of you agreeing it would be best and with Your position already giving you the best possible excuse to be close together.

Once you both graduated, Stella's parents tried to have an arranged marriage set up for her, hoping to achieve greater prestige for the family.

But much to your surprise, she blatantly refused.

Instead she using her new-found political connections and usurped her parents, taking the family name and the role of head of household as her own.

Her first act, openly declaring your relationship.

You were deeply relieved the outcry was very minimal, contained to only a few already outspoke critics that apposing her anyways.

And so you stood by her ever since. As bother her loyal protector and faithful lover.

Hey hey, this one was a challenge, but I still enjoyed it. If any of you have a request or want to submit a prompt, go right ahead. Check out my master list for what I won't write and go for it. Thank you all for reading.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva stella #stella #stella x reader

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tiffdawg · 3 years

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer.

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip.

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight.

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!”

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.”

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he responded quickly.

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word.

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din.

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.”

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

“Last time–”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.”

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

“Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed.

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you–”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.”

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.”

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.”

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.”

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted.

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night.

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped.

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed.

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both.

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

“Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?”

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”

“Of your future on Lah’mu?”

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.”

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction.

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him.

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss.

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire.

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling.

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.”

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @cryptkeepersoul @honeyand-roses

The Light of Stars Tags: @roxypeanut @mrsparknuts @evidenceofzoe @holographic-carmen @wickedfrsgrl @buckysalefty @justabeautiful-letdown

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #fic: the light of stars

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Text

2. twisted

The cartoon that came out of the machine was pretty as a picture, perfect in almost every detail, and had a bubbly, positive personality. But she was not what Joey had wanted Susie to become. (Set in an AU where Joey gets perfect toons from his freshly killed employees and STILL isn’t happy, the unpleasable bitch…)

“Progress report to GENT home office, Client; Joey Drew Studios.

With the addition of the new ink recipe to use in the machine, we have made an unbelievable leap in progress and have almost met our client’s expectations. What had started as a machine to mold life sized figures out of ink has now done things that border on being supernatural.

Although Mr. Drew seems unimpressed, even frustrated with the results at times, in spite of the fact that the models have come out identical to their cartoon counterparts.

The process of running the cartoon film through the machine for the figures to imprint on has been successful, but it looks like that unless someone goes through the trouble of making a short that only has ONE character in it, the machine picks what character it makes at seemingly random. That is our client’s complaint; that instead of being user chosen, the machine picks out which living, breathing, thinking ink models it makes at random. Upon working on this, if I were to be in the client’s shoes, I’d have several valid complaints regarding the machine and the models it created, but our client’s complaint… Is that the machine that doesn’t have a system that allows the user to pick and choose which model it makes yet creates a physically flawless model every single time, does not allow the user to pick and choose which model it makes. He never ceases to infuriate me.

On a sour note, there was an incident with the figure in the likeness of a character called ‘The Brute’. Upon its creation, it immediately went and broke our client’s leg in a very… well, brutal fashion too. But fortunately, it has not physically attacked anyone since The Cameraman figure was made as we have threatened to separate them if it keeps up that behavior. It still likes to insult people, and it still does things that unnerve me though. We’re hoping that the rest of the figures will be less violent and or creepy.”

Thomas clicked off the recording and sighed as he looked at the newly made report, there was no way he could submit this to his boss without someone sending in someone to make sure he wasn’t huffing in ink fumes and whatever the Studio workers smoked to consider any of this to be normal.

“Hey Tommy! I think I figured out the issue with the machine! Or rather, its fuel.”

The mechanic grit his teeth and turned to face his client.

“What? I wasn’t aware that there was a problem with it.”

“Why, Tommy, how could you forget? I’m talking about the figure deposit problem of course! Why did we get The Brute when we wanted to get Boris? Why did we get Cameraman when we wanted Bendy? The answer was so simple, why, it was even staring at us the entire time!”

“Uh huh…” Thomas did not look convinced. “And what was this issue?”

“The ingredients, the Ink of course! You simply can’t put blueberry pancake batter in an oven and be surprised when you get blueberry pancakes instead of blueberry muffins, We got those two knuckleheads before we got the real stars of the show because the souls used to make them weren’t fit to make those two, but the machine still did what it does best: made living cartoons.”

Tom had an uneasy feeling in his gut as Joey grabbed his arm and led him to the Ink Machine’s room. He felt like a sheep being led to the slaughterhouse, he KNEW what went down in there! He knew the other ingredients, not well, per say, but for long enough to judge them and their characters.

He didn’t shed a single tear when Sammy was used in it, in fact, he was rather pleased with the results before it started acting out like that. He and the music director were almost always at each other’s throats for one reason or another. If you asked him, the ex-musician was strange, rude, clearly mentally unstable, and sometimes even cruel. And even if he wasn’t, his physical health had declined so much over his time at the studio that it was obvious that he would die regardless of whether or not he was put in the machine. Feeding Sammy to that machine was an act of mercy, really, and even if it wasn’t, it served him right to become a- err, The Brute and have him put the former musician in his place- put his villainous ways to a decent cause. Now if only someone could ensure for a fact that The Brute would behave...

Now the other ingredient, Norman Polk, was a different story. The man was old, weird and kinda creepy. On the surface, the man was an ideal candidate. Like Sammy, he would die anyway and nobody would miss him when he did. But on the contrary, he seemed like he still had some good years left in him. And while he was weird and creepy, he had been those things in an oddly endearing way that most of the studio had either liked or tolerated enough to not be bugged by it. The mechanic didn’t know how to explain it, that man reminded Tom of a mysterious, mostly-estranged relative that shows up out of nowhere and was always there for you even if you don’t always see him. So when the man snooped too much for his own good and had to be silenced… Tom could never look the resulting toon in the eye, or in his case, the lens.

But the mechanic couldn’t deny that it needed to be done, after all, the former projectionist was far too nosy for anyone’s sake. Nobody who knows the secret of the Ink Machine (or rather, it’s unconventional secret ingredient needed for its ink) should be free to wander the studio and spill the beans.

And a feeling in his gut was beginning to tell him that that was why he was the next on the chopping block.

He had built it, he learned what it would take to make it work, he had done what it took to make it work, and it was working now; No more models that would only move a tiny bit before collapsing into puddles! No more off model models! No more issues aside from x, y, z… -No more reasons for Joey to keep him alive when it was now too dangerous to his business…

A tiny voice at the back of his head told him it served him right. The creator of this unholy torture device would now be consumed by it, just like how the maker of the Brazen Bull was the first victim it claimed.

At this point, he was almost morbidly curious on who or what the machine would make him; would it poke fun at his past and make him that territorial junkyard guard, Canoodle? Would it ironically punish him for his greed by making him The Fat Cat of the show, Boswell Lotsobucks? Would it acknowledge that although he was a villain to the bitter end, he still tried to go clean only for demons to drag him back down his dark paths and make him into Charley? Thinking about it, any butcher gang member would be a good enough fit really.

He was a mix of relieved, disappointed, and horrified when he was brought into the room and saw the unconscious voice actress of Alice Angel strapped to a mobile operating table. Joey seemed to ignore his reaction as he proudly showed her off and began to monologue.

“Like Boris, Sammy was a musician, simple-minded, and was very loyal to those he considered friends until the bitter end. But what made Sammy more like the Brute then Boris- Aside from body type, obviously, was that Sammy had quite the short temper on him, one that got messed with often, and a tendency to hold onto a grudge that can’t be swayed away with a good meal or a bad joke… Just like our friend; the Brute.”

Tom stayed speechless as Joey continued his seemingly prepared and rehearsed speech.

“As for Bendy and Norman, well, it’s obvious that those too simply weren’t compatible in the slightest! Sure, they both have their mischievous sides, but that alone doesn’t make a man into a good imp… However, do you know who DOES have more in common with Mr. Polk? That’s right! A certain smart alec-someone who knows a thing or two about anyone, everyone, and everything whether he wants to or not. Someone with a darker, more jaded sense of humor than our little devil, someone who can lurk in the shadows, or in his case, ‘backstage’ for safety or to gather Intel, but be happy and proud to take the front stage when the need arises! ...Alright, I can see that Norman’s soul may have influenced the personality of our Cameraman, but at least he did it in ways that make sense to the character.”

The mechanic continued to stay silent as Joey continued.

“But the main point is: we know what to do to fix this little issue. If we want a main character, we need someone who embodies the soul of that character. And Ms. Campbell here said it herself; Alice is a part of her!”

“Joey…”

“Why, she’d be thanking us if she knew what was coming! This is a dream come true for her! She always seemed to be the happiest when she was singing our angel darling’s songs…”

As if he was snapped out of a trance, the mechanic pulled Joey to his face, gripping the animator’s arms tightly and shaking him up a bit.

“Joey! We can’t do this! Susie isn’t like Norman or Sammy. She’s young, healthy, and still has a lot to live for. Nobody would buy that she passed on from something out of the blue, or that she moved away without warning or telling anyone. Everyone in the studio loves her and talks to her frequently! If we do this, especially so soon, they will make the connection, and they will find out about this. It was bad enough when Norman went, imagine if someone as well loved as her went too!”

Joey just laughed and slapped Tom’s shoulder.

“Oh Tommy, all we need to tell them is that Susie got her big break and is Bringing Alice to life in ways never before seen! And to sell the illusion, also tell them ‘you know how those folks in Hollywood are with their schedules, always a bunch of busy bees.’ They’ll bite, you just have to trust me.”

“What if they don’t?” the mechanic argued. “What if they start snooping around and start to piece together what really happened to her?”

Joey’s smile wavered a bit, but remained steadfast.

“Well, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we reach it. And when we do, we’ll have our answer!”

“Nnnnggghhh…”

Both of them shuddered when they heard the voice actress start to stir awake.

“I swore I used stronger stuff in her drink…”

“...Jo...Joey..? ..Mr. Conner..?” The voice actress’s real eye widened in horror as she looked around, and her voice wavered as she grew more and more frantic. “WHat’s going on?! Where am I- Why am I tied up?!”

“S-Susie! Everything’s perfectly fine my dear, you just need to calm down a bit and I’ll explain everything…” He subtly jabbed Thomas in the ribs with his elbow. “Tommy!” He hissed “Throw her in the machine already!”

The frightened voice actress began to struggle against her restraints while Tom hesitated. Joey shot him a glare as he strolled up behind Susie and put a ‘reassuring’ hand on the weeping angel’s shoulder.

“Joey, please… let me go… Don’t do this to me!” Tears were running down the woman’s face, her voice was soft and breaking from her stress. “Just let me go and I promise I won’t tell anyone…”

“Now, now, Susie, there’s nothing to worry about, yes I know this looks unsettling from your position… But you and Alice are going places, new, big places that most people only dream of seeing! You’re going to bring her to life in ways that will touch the hearts of generations!”

A flash of realization crossed her face.

“Joey… answer me this: when Sammy ‘died from untreated lung cancer’ did he actually die from lung cancer? And when Norman ‘died from a workplace injury’ did he really…?” her voice trailed off a bit with uncertainty before asking her third question. “Did their deaths have anything to do with those two toons that showed up?!”

Her questions were not answered by words, but with actions as the two men stuffed her into the machine. When it turned on, her screams echoed throughout the mostly empty studio, chilling all who heard them to the very bone.

When they finally stopped, the machine whirred and roared to life and Joey rubbed his hands together in glee as he watched the machine work its magic.

Thomas, on the other hand, stood in silence while staring at his hands as dread and guilt sank in his gut.

The former man’s smile fell into a look of confusion when he saw a pair of gloves with ‘X’ marks on them come out, followed by arms that connected to them. That look of confusion fell deeper into a frown when he saw the arms stretch, curl, and twist when the gloves reached the floor as if they were streams of ice cream coming out of the machine at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Alice didn’t have arms that curled and stretched, but Joey knew a certain demoness toon who did; Miss Twisted. He was cursing under his breath, of course it would complete their little trio before giving him what he wanted! Now he wasted his one shot at getting Alice!

The rest of the toon didn’t even get out of the damn machine, it was like she was taunting him by continuing to stretch her arms and let them continue to coil in piles on the floor instead of showing him the finished product.

Furious, he marched over and grabbed the toon demoness’s arms and yanked her out of the damn machine.

“Stop messing around!” He scolded before pausing and reapplying his signature smile. “Your friends Brute and Cameraman have been worried sick about you ever since their creation! You wouldn’t want to keep them waiting for you any longer than they’ve already been, right?”

He could’ve been imagining it, but he swore that she had a look of pure terror on her face before she put on a fake smile of her own. And was it just him, or was this Miss Twisted’s left eye slightly discolored, glassy looking, if that made sense for someone with pitch black pie-cut eyes. The grayer eye she had reminded him of Susie Campbell’s fake eye.

“Y-yeah! You’re right!” She pushed Joey out of her face, clearly uncomfortable by his staring but pretending to be perfectly fine. “I can’t keep my boys waiting for too long, who knows what they’ll do?” She chuckled nervously. “So… where are you keeping them? where are they hiding?”

“Tommy here will be happy to show you, just follow him and-”

“Thanks!”

The demoness chipperly chirped and swiftly yanked Thomas out of the room at a speed that almost insulted the man.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Thomas Conner #joey drew #susie campbell #miss twisted #fanfic #ink demonth #murder warning

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silvysartfulness · 3 years

Note

Omg I saw that you used to write for the assassin’s creed fandom and honestly what a throwback 😭 are they on livejournal?

Aahhh, this is the part where I have to admit, I don't think I ever put any of those drabbles online! It was more a fun thing me and wife used to do, writing very very short 5 minute one-shots based on single word-prompts.

Oh, wait! Apparently I actually still have them, in an old folder of mine! Will post under a cut. These are AC 1-3-brotherhood, primarily focused on the latter.

La Volpe/Cesare post the fall of the Borgia was my main rarepair ship in that fandom, so that's the main (if occasionally only implied) focus for a lot of these. (CW some dubcon/non-con under the cut, so be warned.) 😊

1 Unwillingness

It goes against everything he is, a greater challenge than any battlefield taken on. Snarling, eyes blazing his defiance, Cesare submits for now.

2 Memento

”Something to remember me by,” murmurs Volpe softly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and it's all Cesare can do not to yelp as those vicious teeth leave a bleeding gash in his ear.

3 Baseline

He still doesn't trust Machiavelli, Volpe muses, and it's equally clear Machiavelli doesn't trust him. Perhaps their shared love of secrecy is the one dependent thing about their relationship.

4 Sniper

He has shot guards from rooftops, towers, horseback, beams and the treacherous crumbling tops of ancient stone pillars. So why was it, muses Ezio afterward, that he hadn't even thought of pulling crossbow or gun out as his sworn enemies held their short council in the courtyard a few measly yards below his feet?

5 Birthplace

It is in Masyaf the order of Assassins was born into what it is now. Searching for answers Ezio sets out on the longest journey of his life, back to the beginning of all.

6 Denunciation

It is hard to remember what it was like to have faith, Cesare thinks, but easy to remember when it was lost. What God could ever work through the instrument that was Alexander VI, his father?

7 Distaste

”Volpe, you didn't!” Ezio exclaims, his face a mask of distaste. Volpe smirks.

”Oh, it was not at all bad. Cesare is well trained.”

Ezio shudders. ”That is exactly what bothers me!”

8 Elimination

Constantly, frustratingly one step behind, it is little Cesare can do as his allies are meticulously taken out by the Assassins one by one. And yet it is not until the last of those on his side willingly turn their backs on him that he realizes this battle is lost.

9 Bluntness

”You can do as I say,” says the master thief matter-of-factly, turning the vial of antidote over in his spindly fingers, ”or you can spend the night dying slowly while vomiting your innards all over the floor. The choice is yours.”

Pale with fury Cesare chooses to live.

10 Turf

The Assassins had been myth, legend, bed-time stories to frighten a young boy already afraid of the dark. But as they dealt an all but deadly blow to his father inside the Vatican itself, Cesare grimly declares war. Roma is his city, and all who oppose his rule must be swiftly and mercilessly dealt with.

11 Assassination

He burns for the ideals, fights the fight with passion and utter devotion. But when Shaun's shaking hands lower the suddenly impossibly heavy gun he knows something he'dnever even thought about (Innocence? Compassion? Humanity?) has perished as surely as that very first body at his feet.

12 Apprentice

He remembers a gangly youth skidding across slippery roof tiles, trying so hard to keep up and even harder to hide his inability to do so. La Volpe silently studies Il Mentore and considers he's no longer sure who would lead the way across the rooftops.

13 Debris

Ezio swears as the ceiling collapses over the bed he shared with Caterina until moments ago – his armor and weapons are buried in the rubble and will be hard to replace. He does not yet know they will be the least of his losses this day.

14 Scolding

Altaïr has never been one to accept blame or criticism for his actions, but something about the way Malik's not-there left arm twitches as to shake a not-there fist in his face as the man speaks makes him look away in hidden shame.

15 Torrent

The rain pours down over the city, making roofs and cobblestones alike wet and slippery. Volpe tugs his collar tighter around his shoulders against the biting cold and idly contemplates if a trip to the Castello would be worth the trouble.

16 Anchor

He cheats and steals and tells honeyed lies with the ease of a snake. But his eyes can be oceans and his touch velvet – sometimes Ezio wonders if his always restless, inspiration-ridden friend keeps Salai around just to remember what it's like to be human.

17 Truce

”It would be nice,” says Machiavelli evenly, ”if you would not so readily name yourself judge, jury and executioner the next time you fall victim to unfounded suspicion.”

”Fine,” mutters Volpe, frowning. ”It would be niceif you were not so secretive. And stop trying to steal my spies. Get your own.”

”Fine,” Machiavelli replies with a minute smirk.

Fellowship is knowing just when your brother-in-arms is lying.

18 Nook

There are many unknown and unseen hiding places among the rooftops of Florence. On his back, hair plastered against his face and hot breath against his ear, Giovanni concludes it's very handy that La Volpe always knows to find one when you need it.

19 Orgy

These parties are more to his father's tastes than his his, Cesare firmly tells himself, perhaps letting his eyes linger thoughtfully on the multitude of courtesans a moment longer than intended. Then a familiar slender hand grazes his thigh and he is reminded that the only person even close to matching his own schemes, cunning and skill is the woman on the throne next to his.

20 Scoff

”I spend all my time in the Animus,” Desmond frowns, ”Lucy's keeping an eye on Abstergo and Rebecca... hacks and stuff. What do youdo, really? Anyone could use, what, Google and Wikipedia?”

Shaun grins or at least bares his teeth.

”You mean Templar Central One and Two? No, it's called obtaining knowledge, Desmond - sifted like little gold nuggets of fact from the vast sands of ignorance you're so fond of burying your head in. Google can't help you there, I'm afraid.”

21 Scolding

At the time, Ezio always figured Giovanni's constant nagging and pleading with him to stay out of trouble was only the worrying of an overprotective father. Only later was he taught discretion was part of the ancient Assassin's creed. He never got very good at it, even so.

22 Bonfire

No-one is entirely sure why Julius II has tempered justice with mercy for now and opted for his enemy's imprisonment rather than death sentence. As far as la Volpe is concerned, the way Cesare goes pale whenever the topic is brought up is at least good for entertainment.

23 Nakedness

Being exposed holds no particular shame for him, but the walls and floor are freezing to the touch, draining precious warmth from his aching body. Now would be a prudent time for an accursed thief to show up with a blanket to bargain for.

24 Arbiter

It was funny, Machiavelli drily noted in his notebook, how God and Divine Justice so often were on the side of the biggest army with the sharpest swords.

25 Purgatory

The land burns, smoke choking the sky and tinting the sun a sickly shade of blood. It is with a cold and unfamiliar sense of foreboding Cesare hurries through the flames toward the towering walls of the fortress to escape this hell on earth – one way or another.

26 Fingernail

Ezio has more than his fair share of scars adorning his hardened body, some remembered more fondly than others. He would never dream to ask Caterina to trim her nails, or use them just a touch more carefully.

27 Slavery

The Creed dictates freedom of thought, and in his reckless youth Altaïr would use it as justification for any rash impulse. But the older he grows, the more he comes to realize freedom and all its crushing responsibility can be the harshest master of all.

28 Carnivore

When confronted on his nasty habit of biting, Volpe only grins and quips something about foxes and their nature. Cesare is tempted to snap he's often seen dirty foxes prowling the back streets for garbage, but can see where Volpe would go with that, and so holds his tongue.

29 Bluntness

Ezio is too flustered after his mother's blunt request he find other outlets than vaginas to realize the enthusiastic young artist at his side seems more than eager to offer a few suggestions on the particular subject.

30 Vow

He will live, Cesare vows. He will live, he will regain his freedom, his power and his army. At any cost. And then they will. All. Pay.

31 Blending

It was simply not fair, thought Machiavelli, that no matter how solid your acting, no matter how meticulousyour disguise, Volpe would immediately spot you in a crowd and grin at you. Clearly spying on the sly old fox called for more cunning means, he conceded as he made his way to the Rosa to shamelessly bribe Claudia for information.

32 Misconduct

“Not that we are in any particular hurry to the Castello,” Orsini says, the knuckles of his war-gauntlet quite pleasantly buried in Cesare's face, “but things would just be easier all around if you would stop squirming and came quietly.”

33 Ultimatum

“If you don't stop hogging my mp3-player,” Rebecca whispers softly in Shaun's ear, “I'll tell Lucy exactly whatyou and Desmond used her yoghurts for last night.”

34 Takeover

“Stop!” Lucrezia commands as the soldiers feed the paintings to the fire – already the image of a swan is crackling and fading to black amongst the flames. Such a waste of beauty. She hasn't even realized Cesare is standing behind her, fierce and bloodied after the battle, until he speaks.

“You like them?”

She nods, and he touches her cheek with a smile, careful not to stain her hair.

“Then they are yours. A memento of the day the Assassini fell.”

35 Afterlife

“I blame you for this,” says Cesare flatly as the imps re-heat the lake of boiling tar. Again. “There is no God, you said. No heaven and no hell, you said. Stupid old bastard.”

Rodrigo mutters something about Hell being other people, but will have to concede that in this trifling matter, yes, he was mistaken.

36 Distaste

He would rather be hated than forgotten, Cesare sullenly thinks, rubbing his stiff hands for warmth. Bony, filthy, with the matted long hair of a hermit falling into his face, he has to settle for the guards' contempt. At least it's better than pity.

37 Slavery

He isn't really paid, Leonardo thinks, merely kept alive, yes. Not really compensated as such. And so the construction of the intricate war-machines is really on the consciences of his masters, not his. Sting of guilt quenched he returns to the blueprints with renewed fevered enthusiasm.

38 Probation

“What's the catch”, asks Cesare with deepest suspicion.

“No catch,” Volpe assures, looking innocent. “Just a reward for your recent good behaviour. Keep it up and there may a meal and a hot bath in it for you, too.”

Cesare does not for a moment believe they are just going out 'to stretch their legs', but a meal does sound inviting. He follows.

39 Adversity

Ezio strongly disapproved of the idea of his little sister taking over the Rosa in Fiore, and he frankly can't say whether he is more disappointed or proud when it flourishes under her care.

40 Bluntness

“You are a thief,” Machiavelli growls, piqued into a rare display of anger. “A liar and a cheat and an honourless thief!”

Volpe grins.

“All those things. And I'm still better than you.”

41 Scheming

Ezio gave the Apple to Mario, who had it stolen by Cesare, who gave it to Leonardo, who found it plucked out of his helpless hands by the Pope and his daughter. He ponders life was easier when he was just a painter. The Apple is a thing of awe, but the intrigues in its wake make his head hurt.

42 Favorite

It wasn't that Cesare particularly hated his older brother. It was just that while he no longer childishly sought his father's approval, the position as the Pope's favorite son came with several practical perks. Unfortunately for Juan, that meant he simply had to go.

43 Truce

When things are civilized, they can be bearable, almost even pleasant. The food is good, the wine plentiful, and Volpe's skilled fingers all but gentle. An unspoken truce, no matter how temporary. But neither man ever forgets the truth, which is war.

44 Scour

They answer to no-one, self-proclaimed executioners beyond all law. Too much blood on their hands now. Just before sunrise Cesare gives the command to attack. The cleansing of Monteriggioni has begun.

45 Extrovert

To hold his own council and play his cards close to his heart has always been his way, and he knowshe is a master at his game. And yet, Machiavelli can grudgingly admit to himself, it isn't until the boisterous chaos in human guise that is Ezio bursts in on the Roman scene that he begins to see how they will win this war.

46 Protagonist

“I will avenge the cowardly, treacherous plot against my father,” he thinks. “I will root out all those involved, every single one, and I will kill them and all they stand for.”

No-one ever sets out to be a hero, only to do what is right.

For Cesare, the path ahead is clear.

47 Willpower

It is never easy. Every time Altaïr visits his (his!) bureau in Jerusalem, Malik has to struggle with himself not to slay the man in his sleep. On many a moonlit night, only a lifetime of discipline stays the blade in his white-knuckled hand.

But strangely, it does get easier over time.

48 Esacalation

At first it had been mere proof of his ability to go anywhere in Roma as well he pleased, the taunting and impotent rage in response a given bonus. After some time, forced still-furious intimacy gained through blackmail had appeared a logical step. Then force turned out redundant. As Cesare clings to him, nails biting into his arms and teeth bared with need, Volpe admits to himself he would never have suspected the caged Borgia would so willingly use him to sate his desires – nor the other way around.

49 Torrent

Raw grief fades over time, a broken heart healed into a dull ache. The thing that keeps Claudia from sleeping at night is not all she has lost, but her screaming frustration at not being able to take her fate, and that of those responsible, into her own hands.

50 Danger

The peaceful life he had envisioned just the evening before will have to wait, Ezio grimly decides, pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder and focusing on not falling off his horse. And despite the shock, grief and pain, it somehow feels right. He has lived this life so long, he isn't sure he remembers how not to.

51 Splattering

Leonardo likes to buy birds at the market and set them free, watching with dreaming eyes as they take to the endless sky. Once, Ezio surprises his friend with twenty white doves. Much belatedly he wishes he'd remembered that stressed pigeons prefer to lighten their load before taking off.

52 Ramification

“It is time you take responsibility for your actions,” Rodrigo snarls, and Cesare struggles with the impulse to scream, childishly, “But father, younever did!”

53 Concession

“I'm not sure we should...”

Lover and Thief, silhouettes in the dark, alone. A light touch.

“Come now. It will be good, I promise.”

“But, what if...”

“Ssh. Are we not both Assassins? Everything is permitted.”

His honed thief's nerves tingling with foreboding warnings, La Volpe allows Claudia to persuade him in the end, knowing Ezio will probably kill him, and that it will no doubt be worth it.

54 Leer

You can't even seehis face in the shadows beneath the cowl. And yet, Volpe just standing there outside the bars, nonchalantly leaning one hand against the wall, makes Cesare want to scream. Or punch him hard. Preferably both.

55 Whisper

Ezio reflects that there are few other voices he would instantly recognize by just a short, urgent uttering of his name. His hesitation to turn around stems not from uncertainty, but the childish wish to postpone the trial of his oldest friend's rumored treason just a few moments longer.

56 Absurdity

At first Ezio had felt confused, then worried and finally terrified. But as they've fled Florence and the man introducing himself as uncle Mario tells him that his family belongs to an ancient clan of legendary assassins, relief washes over him. Finally is clear it has all been an insane dream. He can't wait to wake up.

57 Experimentation

Leonardo da Vinci is a true genius, his brilliant mind always seeing the world through a lens of wonder. Nothing escapes his never-sated curiosity – but that a small poseable wooden mannequin could be used like that? Cesare is a man not easily impressed, but will have to admit the artist rarely fails to amaze.

58 Farewell

It is with uncharacteristic kindness Volpe kisses him, between shared gasps for air after their final tryst. A last goodbye before the approaching dawn will see Cesare on his way to exile in Spain.

”Growing sentimental, old fox?” the younger man scoffs at him. ”No need. I shall return soon enough, and repaint the walls of Roma with Assassin blood.”

Volpe just smiles. He has already helped Ezio prepare his own journey and knows with certainty that Cesare will never again return to Rome.

59 Turf

”Maybe Giovanni could get away with doing paperwork all day over in Florence,” Mario says, and his tone clearly states what he thinks about his brother's choice. ”But arround here we train Assassins, not accountants or delivery boys.”

Ezio's body has never ached as much in his life as it does after his first day of training with his uncle.

60 Smoothness

When she smiles her deep red lips are like tantalizing rose petals, framed by sun-ray golden hair. She is smooth, flawless, perfect. But every rose has its thorns, and Lucrezia's are laden with poison.

61 Kneeling

Every fiber of Ezio's body strains desperately to regain control as he jerks like a puppet on golden strings of light.

”You are lucky,” breathes Rodrigo in a low, husky growls, leaning hard on the staff after the battle, ”So verylucky, little Assassin, that I am in a hurry.”

As the dagger sinks into his guts, Ezio briefly thinks that indeed, it could have been so much worse.

62 Purgatory

The imps don't know whether to feel amused or put out that the screaming, flailing argument between father and son has by now escalated to the point they don't even seem to register the lake of boiling tar anymore. A bit of respect for good solid workmanship, is that too much to ask?

63 Lick

It has to be said in favour of Machiavelli's assassin reflexes that the unexpected lick at his ear out of the dark earns Volpe neither a jump or a shriek but a rapid fist to the nose.

Only half an hour later, safely home in his bedroom, does Niccolo allow himself to contemplate what might have otherwise transpired.

64 Bonfire

It is a sad thing, reflects Ezio in hindsight, older, wiser, that compared to all the priceless art and knowledge fed to fire during Savonarola's mad reign of Florence, the mere loss of a human life that ended it is remembered with little sense of loss or revulsion.

65 Last

After Mario's death, Ezio has felt the weight of being the last Auditore Assassin ever heavier on his shoulders. But as he watches Claudia fearlessly take her leap of faith, he wonders how he could ever have been blind enough to think himself alone.

66 Well

The guards in hot pursuit yell and stab at wells, haystacks and dark alleyways. From his perch on a rooftop Ezio smiles. He always did prefer to take to the sky.

67 Wrongdoer

As his support falters and the opposition grows ever bolder, Cesare becomes increasingly frustrated with their attacks and accusations. He would prefer to answer only for his own sins, not those of his dead father.

68 Deliberate

It really is getting unnerving, decides Machiavelli, the way Volpe has taken up the habit of commenting on his every observation with a frosty ”Indeed” or ”Yes, quitethe coincidence”. He wishes he could believe the man isn't doing it on purpose.

69 Counter

When he first arrives in Jerusalem, Altaïr can't quite shake the feeling that the only thing between him and certain death is a rather narrow, map-strewn desk.

70 Bribe

Cesare has always been good at striking a profitable bargain. Unfortunately Borgia as a currency is bitterly deflated, and these days he often have to sell himself too cheap for comfort. Even though it isa warm, snug blanket.

71 Chess

Cesare knows he is a brilliant strategist – not so much because of the expected praise from his subordinates as from the satisfactory number of pins currently adorning his map of Italy. He would like to believe himself modest in this, careful not allow hubris to cheat him of a victory. And yet he never knows whether to frown or laugh helplessly as the absent-minded artist all but appologetically check-mates his king time and time and time again.

72 Feel

Leonardo never knows how to feel when Cesare enters the room. At first he is apprehensive, but as weeks turn into months and he realizes he's not only allowed but encouraged to dream up grander designs than ever before he is thrilled.

In the end, seeing the Assassins' plans put into motion long before Cesare even knows the final battle has begun, he can only avert his eyes in regret.

73 Mister

”Outside the kingdom of God is the realm of men,” Salai says, leaning just an inch too close. ”You worship there, Messere?”

Only years of training his clueless look on Leonardo helps Ezio keep a straight face as he blankly waves for the boy to follow him.

74 Fine

There are simply too many guards around for a discreet kill, so Ezio grudlingly counts the florins and hands them over. How was heto know he wasn't allowed to park his horse there? Time to liberate another stable from its Borgia-tower shadow, he decides. Burning them all down is easier than keeping track of territories anyway.

75 Dog

If La Volpe is the fox and Ezio the bird of prey, Pantasilea ponders, then Bartolomeo reminds her of a large, lumbering dog. Faithful and loyal unto death, but with a booming bark and a vicious bite for those who threaten those dear to him.

76 Forgotten

When Volpe appears he is the first person Cesare has seen in days. He greets the thief with his usual brazen curses, careful not to let any trace of relief shine through. Of all things he is most afraid to be left alone to die; not slain out of hatred or need, but simply ignored and forgotten.

77 Changed

Had Ezio been the kind of man to think upon such things, he might have noticed the Cesare facing him atop the towering walls is not the self-assured young general he met a handful years previous in Roma. Tired-looking and hunched over he looks defeated even before the battle has begun. But Ezio is here for one single purpose alone, and has never been the kind of man to think of such things anyway.

78 Gondola

Antonio assures Leonardo that only from an extensive tour with his private gondola will the artist truly get to know his new home town. As it happens, a rocky two-hour boat ride later, Leonardo still hasn't really seen much of the city. But that's quite alright, as he happily agrees to repeat the endeavour soon again.

79 Casino

It never hurts to try to win Fortuna's favour when gambling is one of your favorite pastimes, Salai knows, but in this particular case divine intervention is quite a bit closer at hand. As long as you have La Volpe's favor, the dice at the Sleeping Fox will never let you down.

80 Soup

The first bowl of watery gruel ends up thrown in the guard's face with enough force to break his nose. The next morning the second splinters against the wall. Nearly a week passes before he forces himself to eat the fifth, to preserve his strength.

Cesare closes his eyes as he quickly raises the bowl to his face to wolf down the hundredth, before the reflection in the dull surface can show him what he has become.

81 Carrot

”Tell you what,” murmurs Volpe in the starving prisoner's ear, dangling the vegetable in front of his face, ”If you give me a good enough show I'll even let you keep it for supper when you're done.”

82 Madame

Volpe has to admit himself impressed – Claudia is shrewd, ruthless and horrifyingly practical, and stillmanages to be praised a good businesswoman rather than cursed a thief.

83 Kilt

Yes, Ezio decides as he flexes his body inside the unfamiliar weight of Romulus' armour, there is definitely a draft around his nether regions. Whatever the old Romans may have thought, a skirt of leather belts does notconstitute proper clothing.

After some swearing and creative arranging of his spare cloak he considers it may well look even moreof a skirt, but at least this cut preserves his manly dignity when he jumps.

84 Theft

He has stolen valuables, information, people and lives. La Volpe draws in a deep breath as he surveys Roma in the first light of morning, then exhales in satisfaction. She is the greatest city in the world, and she is all his for the taking.

#asksilvy #blast from the past

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ceescedasticity · 3 years

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SFear Supplementals

I decided I'm not going to post any SFear supplementals on AO3 until the next chapter of Collateral has gone up, and anyway the fandom is... preoccupied... at the moment, but I did finish some stuff. Obviously will make zero sense without the main fic.

Supplemental #1: Reunion in the Land of Mist and Glowworms

When the sensation of being watched snapped back into place, Martin startled so badly he dropped a steel imp out the window directly on top of a hydrogen imp, and they both vanished into colored polygons.

"I'll just go get that grist for you," Peter said, and swooped out the window.

Martin let him go. The feeling wasn't as strong as it was in the Changed world, probably no worse than an average day in the Archives, but it was much more than anything he'd felt since the tunnels whited out around him, and he couldn't help but hope.

The two remaining steel imps were still busily destroying furniture, but it wasn't like he had any emotional connection to the strange little mock-lighthouse the Game had left him in. (Some of the furnishings were oddly reminiscent of childhood. That wasn't a plus.) The only thing he couldn't afford to lose was the laptop. He grabbed that and made for the stairs to the roof.

It wasn't a very tall mock-lighthouse, but it was the best vantage point around. There wasn't a lot to see, apart from a glimpse of the nearest "consort" village, and mist, and as always the eerie light of the glowworms in the sky. (What were they even hanging from?)

And… a spot of sickly green glow, on the other side of a hill, the opposite direction from the village.

It might have been wiser to be concerned, but…

Slamming the 'lighthouse' door open on the way out annihilated another imp, which he couldn't even feel bad about at this point. He circled the side of the building away from Peter and made for the hill at a run.

(There had been another ice ogre roaming around, but it seemed fairly slow. This should be fine.)

He saw the glowing green… Eyesprite before the human figure accompanying it, but Jon called, "Martin!" at almost the same time, and then Martin was skidding down the hill and then they were hugging. The laptop made it more difficult, but who cared.

The Eyesprite stared at them from three meters away.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Jon said, into his shoulder. "I was, ah, I lost consciousness for a little while after entry. Well, for several hours."

Martin pulled back, alarmed. "Are you okay?" Jon didn't look hurt — possibly a little manic, but not bad. A little more… Beholding-y than he'd looked in the tunnels, but much less than the post-apocalyptic standard. "Was it because of the fears being weaker?" He'd been a little worried about that—

"No," Jon said. "Well, yes. Partially. I mean — that's about whether it's because of Beholding being weaker. Whether I'm okay is yes. It's an adjustment, and Knowing is, uh, complicated, but— I'm okay." He smiled. "More okay than I've been in a while, I think. It's sort of a long story — the short version is that Skaia filled in the, the holes the Eye's weakening left, and that's had some complications but— It's good."

"That—" Martin stopped himself. Yes, the Eye was the devil they knew and Skaia the devil they didn't, but if Jon thought this was better and was glad about it Martin didn't have to push him now. "I'm glad."

Jon had been… slightly hopeful, when they'd discussed the Ritual of Skaia, back in the tunnels — but mostly desperate. His pitch for this alternative had focused on removing the Entities into a different pocket dimension and trapping them there, rather than unleashing them into the multiverse. He'd admitted it was more of a gamble than Annabelle's plan, and involved all of them jumping into the pocket dimension, too, and that was meant to be survivable in a successful ritual but there were no guarantees — and he'd all but begged them to do it anyway.

(It hadn't been too hard a sell, once it became evident that there really was a Ritual of Skaia and Jon wasn't suffering an overdue psychotic break but really had picked up something out of the Hilltop Road rift. Nobody had actually liked Annabelle's plan. This… had potential.)

(Martin had asked Jon if he thought he could survive this. Jon said he didn't know, but he could live with it.)

He was really hopeful, now. Like he actually thought things might turn out okay.

"I'm glad," Martin repeated, and hugged him again. Jon sighed, and leaned into the embrace.

Then he said, "We're about to be attacked by some sort of ogre. If you don't have any moral objections, I'll just destroy it."

"Oh, for—" The first ice ogre that showed up had trapped him on the roof for over two hours before Peter got annoyed and (probably) threw it into the Lonely. "Yes, get rid of it. Wait, you can still smite things?"

"If I Ask underlings what they are — ask imps or ogres, at least — they immediately dissolve into grist."

"Convenient." Martin didn't want to hunt underlings but he was really not a fan of underlings.

"Quite."

The smiting was much less dramatic than avatar-smiting had been — like Jon said, just a question and immediate disappearance. Unsurprisingly Jon looked more… Beholding-y while doing it, though far from the worst Martin had seen him.

The Eyesprite stared at them from three meters away.

"The, um… some of the, uh, eye cloud looked like they had funny pupils?" Martin ventured as Jon collected the grist. "Like a, um…"

"A stylized sun," Jon said. "Yes, that's the Light Aspect symbol. I hadn't noticed that before, but it's not surprising. There's a bit of a… territorial struggle going on in there."

A territorial struggle in his head? That didn't really fit with Martin's definition of okay, but fine. "Is that your Aspect? Mine's Blood, which according to the sprite has something to do with connections between people, but still."

"And Light has to do with information and knowing things," Jon said dryly. "And supposedly luck, although I don't think I got much of that part."

"Ah. Ouch."

"It does sound better than Blood, though. Glad you were able to get something useful out of your sprite."

"I noticed yours doesn't seem very, uh, talkative…"

"Well, not at the moment— Oh, Christ."

The Eyesprite was staring at them from one meter away.

"Back off," Jon ordered, and it drifted back a few feet. "Sorry. Is it making you feel too… beheld?"

"Not too bad. Though I suppose I have a fairly high tolerance by now." Hmm. "Mine got, uh, quite a bit less… Lonely-feeling after it, er…"

"Turned into Peter Lukas," Jon supplied. "Sorry, I took a look at how everyone was doing after I woke up. I could have tried to skip you, but…"

"I don't mind," Martin assured him.

"There wasn't too much detail."

"Really, it's fine. You said you looked at everyone, was everyone—"

"Peter," Elias — Jonah — interrupted, "is right on the other side of that hill, fighting the sprite instinct to come and talk to all of us."

Martin flinched violently; Jon looked sick, but immediately snapped "Not that one!" and the sprite went back to just being an Eye.

"Has it been doing that the whole time?" Martin asked, horrified.

"Not the — the whole time, it's, it's been trying out other people." Though he was still clearly shaken, Jon glared at the sprite, which… possibly looked chastened. "It hasn't been him for quite a while, actually, I thought it had gotten the point."

"Not something you can Know?"

"Well, I could try, but I couldn't verbalize it without doing a whole statement about it. Knowing is… complicated."

Huh. Well, they probably wanted to avoid that. "Maybe it wants to play mind games with Peter?"

"Not that Peter's very good at them," Jonah said smugly — not as Elias, this time, but definitely Jonah. It wasn't as much of a kick in the chest for Martin — different face, different voice despite the same way of speaking — but Jon looked just as sick.

"Don't. Be. Jonah," Jon snapped, and glared until the sprite went back to an Eye.

"Yeah, that's looking likely. Just a minute." Martin jogged back up the hill, and, yeah, Peter was hovering (figuratively and literally) just on the other side. "Peter, just… go away."

If Peter wanted to talk to Jonah again, too, it evidently wasn't enough to outweigh the desire not to be near anyone. Martin didn't have to say another word before Peter disappeared into the mist at high speed.

When Martin got back to Jon, the Eyesprite was still just an Eye. "Okay! That seems to be taken care of for now."

"For now," Jon said. "It's… I haven't tried to Know this, but this one insisted on following me when I left my planet. It's possible they can't go too far from us. In which case it will be near… your sprite again, and I need to get it to turn into something or it will upset everyone who isn't used to putting up with Beholding anyway…"

"It can find someone other than Jonah," Martin said firmly. "Come on, let's go back to the… 'house'." He offered a hand, and Jon took it, and they started up the hill. "I was going to ask, you said you checked on everyone? Melanie and Georgie and Basira, they're…?"

"When I checked they were all alive and unhurt and… no more out of their depth than we are, I think. Also, uh, I don't know if I managed to explain how I was filling out the roster to get players for all the Entities?"

"You… tried." No one had asked when Jon originally said they didn't need to scrape up nine more people somehow, and by the time someone had asked he'd been half in a trance and only intermittently responsive. "You said something about statements and contracts?"

"Yes. What that means is— No, wait, this is going to be a long story, so first—" Jon stopped, and turned, and caught Martin's face in his hands, and smiled. "I love you, Martin. I'm so glad we got this chance."

"I love you, Jon," Martin said, and kissed him. "You got us this chance."

#not my medium not my genre #other fic #crossover classpects

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

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Choice

Chapter 24: Blitzo goes back to work.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and an IMP death relating to hanging.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“Welcome back, Blitzo!” Millie smiled from her seat atop Loona’s desk as Blitzo threw the door to the office open. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I’m sure it-”

“Millz, love you to death, but put a sock in it before I do it for you,” he growled, eyes narrow and fists clenched tighter than a politician’s asshole as he chucked his already-drained iced coffee cup into the trash. Loona shuffled in behind him and dropped on the couch, pointedly focusing on her phone screen.

“Geez, who whizzed in your cereal? Something happen?” Millie blinked, bouncing herself up a bit on her seat to keep at his eye level. “Can we help?”

Moxxie emerged from Blitzo's office, shuffling papers. “We’ve managed the cases so far just fine, but I need you to sign off on-”

“You can sign my-” Blitzo sucked in a deep breath, pinching his forehead before letting it out. “Fine, everything’s fine.”

Moxxie raised an eyebrow. “I take it something went wrong. That, or you’re just sex-hungover. That can happen, you know-”

Millie cut him off with a click of her tongue, and his mouth snapped shut. “Moxxie, we don’t need the honeymoon story, I think somethin’s really wrong. He looks all slumpy, like a willow-weed in the r-”

“Can both of you lay off? I don't need the tag-team act right now.” Blitzo wove around Moxxie and his pile of paperwork to enter his office- the one that Moxxie shouldn't have been gallivanting in and out of. “You two deal with the client, I just really, really want to fucking shoot something, so tell me when the deal’s done, alright?”

Millie sucked in her cheek and Moxxie glanced over to her before his eyes flicked back to Blitzo, whose fingers twitched before he slammed the door in their faces.

_______________________

Three sharp knocks on the door. “Sir? It’s time to go, unless you want us to work by ourselves again. We’re more than capable-”

“No, I’m up, I’m up.” Blitzo scrubbed at his eyes- any attempts to fall asleep at his desk and make up for the complete lack of any kind of rest last night had been thoroughly thwarted by his brain going at a hundred miles an hour. (The coffee wasn’t to blame. Probably. He’d fallen asleep on way more than the piddly single one he’d downed in the past.) Mostly, it had been wanting to throttle Stolas mixed with wanting to throttle himself, and then imagining rapidly escalating scenarios of where he might be able to chuck the kid once they popped out. (Currently, he was at ‘trying to slingshot them up to Heaven just to see what they’d do with it.’ In all likelihood, it’d be crucifix batting practice.)

“It’s one that the client said might be suicidal, but she seemed quite self-important and thought that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to live without her anyway, so I wouldn’t trust that.” The chair creaked as Blitzo got up, but if it was because it was a couple years old and salvaged from the back of the circus’s dump or because of the deadweight around his gut that had officially turned his shirt into a crop top was anybody’s guess.

As he entered the main room, Moxxie was rubbing a cloth over the musical note on the side of his gun, and Millie fussed with a length of rope while humming to herself.

“I’unno sugar, the client said he was kinda hefty…”

“We have other options if it breaks, and clients often exaggerate that sort of thing. Besides, it just needs to hold him long enough to snap the neck, or at least asphyxiate him. Then they’ll just assume it broke after he died.”

“I’m just saying, it’s more cleanup.”

“Well, this is the kind of rope they can usually get topside, so I say we- oh, good, you’re here.” Moxxie pointed to the paper piled up on the coffee table. “I already did all the hard bits, I just need your signature.”

��Right, right. Signature. Got it. Then we get to go kill something, right?”

Moxxie glanced over at Millie, and the look they exchanged passed way more information than Blitzo’d ever be able to parse. Must be a marriage thing. Must be nice, too. Being able to know what each other was thinking and shit. Real useful.

“Yeah, hun, then we can go kill something. Nothing like some good ol’ violence to get the blood pumping, right?” Millie smiled as Blitzo dashed off a loopy B on each of the papers. Most of them were bills, a few were paychecks that he’d probably just forgotten in the mess of the past few months since Moxxie would know better than to try and slip extras in since it would destroy the budget anyway, there was one approving the repairs for the fire, right, right, this was why he let Moxxie handle all the boring shit, at least it was easy to just sign the dotted line- there. Done.

Blitzo cracked his knuckles, tail snapping in mid-air. “Right! Let’s go fuck somebody up!”

“There we go!” Millie gave a little laugh, punching his arm as Moxxie picked up the Grimoire and opened to the right page before drawing the circle with his free hand. Loona was still settled on the couch behind him, nursing a sports drink from the fridge and half-watching the three of them, head tilted slightly.

Moxxie nodded to the portal, setting the book down on the desk. “Right behind you, sir.”

____________________

The guy didn’t even fight back when they woke him up and strung him up. What a wuss. Hangings were usually fun since they squirmed and made funny noises while trying to break free if the neck didn't snap when the chair dropped, but it wasn’t nearly bloody enough for Blitzo’s taste today. Oh, sure, he’d clawed at the rope that had manufactured nylon sharp enough to carve out blood from under his nails, but his face was purpling at a rapid rate, so they probably didn’t have to do anything other than let gravity finish the job for them, especially considering his kicks were starting to slow anyway.

“You want to go watch some wrestling death-matches when we get back home? I heard they’re bringing the Big Boar in, he’s some sinner who was a lucador back in life. That’ll get some of that killer instinct out.” Millie gave a playful growl as she rummaged around in the target’s belongings. Blitzo watched her hips waggle for a moment before she made a little ‘hmmph’ at a pin-up cowgirl calendar.

“Hmm… tempting, Millz, tempting.”

“Pride wrestling’s more like good ol’ fashioned blood sport, especially when they get the guys that can regenerate limbs!” She ground her fist into her palm with an intense look. Moxxie rolled his eyes as Blitzo leaned against the wall.

“Pl-ease… sa...ve..” the human wheezed out before Moxxie poked at his stomach, and he coughed up blood directly on the little imp before falling limp. Moxxie grimaced, using the man’s somewhat-sweaty bedsheet nearby to clean himself off.

“Perhaps you could invite his highness? I remember him saying something about-”

“Nope,” Blitzo snapped out immediately. “Not gonna fuckin’ happen.”

Moxxie raised an eyebrow, dropping the sheets. “It was just a suggestion, sir. Had too much of him over the past few days?”

“You could say that,” Blitzo muttered, a hand resting on his stomach, and Millie's eyes softened.

“Aw, you could have said something. He ride you too hard?”

The fingers curled inwards, claws dragging above the surface and lighting it up red, forcing him away from his own skin. “Something along those lines, yeah. You two can drop this anytime, you know.”

“Well, at least the little one will be out of your hair soon,” Moxxie said. “Just a few more months, then I would imagine it’s just visitations now and then. You said that you’d already discussed things with him about custody, right?”

Blitzo swallowed, the hand raising up from his belly to rub at the back of his neck. “So, er, about that-”

The wood groaned as Moxxie took a step forward. “No. You didn’t.”

“Come on, Moxx, he was drooling over it, how the fuck was I supposed to know he wanted me to-”

Moxxie threw up his hands. “What have I told you? To think about what you’re doing! What do you do? Throw yourself-”

“Oh, you think this is my fault?”

“Of course it’s your fault!” Moxxie folded his arms. “What did I say when you were considering keeping it? That it was going to be a big responsibility! You barely can call Loona civilized and she’s somehow a legal adult, what in the seven rings would you fuck up if you had to raise an actual child?”

“Exactly! I don’t fucking want to!” Blitzo spat out with enough venom to make Moxxie’s fingers tighten on his arms. “That’s the point, I thought this was just going to be for a couple of months and then yeah, maybe getting to see them now and then wouldn't suck the worst ass if they turn out cool, but I’ve got other shit to do! I’m a busy guy, and I’d definitely fuck it-”

“Blitzo…” Millie reached out a hand before curling it into a loose fist in midair. “Hun, I’m sorry.”

“Yes. Thank you, Millie.”

“Although…” She gnawed on her lip for a moment, and he groaned.

“Don’t you start-”

“Why did you adopt Loona then? I’m genuinely wonderin’, that’s all. You love her to bits, why’s this different? If you hadn’t done that I wouldn’t be askin’, but… you like being a dad.”

“I…” He trailed off. There was a scuttering in the wall behind him, like a roach or some other grimy-grody pest, and a chill drilled down the vertebrae of his spine as a shiver ran through his bones. Why was the sweat dripping down his side cold, like condensation on the side of a frozen water bottle? Damned drafty house. “I wanted to be there for somebody, somebody that I chose to be, and that won't-" He cleared his throat, shaking his head to start over. "Anyway, she’s a good kid who's figuring her shit out and I like hanging out with her. I'm glad to be her dad. That's different."

“Why would this be so bad, then?” Millie repeated.

Blitzo scoffed. “ ‘Cause I got Loona when she was older and I had to go through a buncha bullshit to sign the papers instead of just getting nutted in and having it sprung on me? That was an active effort, and teenagers are basically an entirely different species from babies, I’ve only had to clean up her shit a couple of times-”

“Did not need to know that,” Moxxie muttered.

“-Shut up Moxxie, but anyway, point is, Loonie was already walking and talking and has her own tastes and shit, most babies are just worthless little parasites until they’re, like, ten. I was a fuckin’ miserable little thing to deal with according to literally fucking everybody, so why the fuck would I want to inflict that on myself when I can help somebody that’s already gotten through most of the annoying phase? Plus, her sense of fashion kicks ass. Babies can't pick you out dope outfits." His tail snaked up and tapped his shoulder. "Point to me, excellent reasoning.”

“She’s still your daughter, and you still have to deal with a lot from-” Millie tried to continue, but Blitzo held up a hand.

“Look, it’s just different, okay? The apartment’s crowded enough. I’ll figure this out somehow.”

“...If you’re sure,” Millie said, shifting her weight on the creaky floorboards. “How did the prince take it?”

“Ugh, you really think I want to get deep into his little wah-wah I-thought-you-knew bullshittery?” Blitzo snorted. “I don’t give a shit what he thinks, he should have been upfront about the fact that I was going to be ruining both me and the squirt’s life instead of just being a fuckin’ incubator for cash. End of story.”

There was a nudge from inside of him that was much sharper than usual, and Blitzo’s eyes snapped down.

“Did you just fuckin’ bite me?”

#helluva boss #one time #shadow writes stuff #helluva mpreg #daddy blitzo

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ask-prime-starscream · 3 years

Text

She-Ra Review (Better late than never)

Okay, I just watched the first episode of the original She-Ra and... PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF! I think we evolved quite from that. Even though Bow used to have more male empowerment by showing off even more skin, lol.

But here it is. Review of the new She-Ra:

So, for me the show overall used to be quite in need of getting used to. I guess because the stakes are rather low and I preferred more adult-orientated shows. Falling from a high point and not getting hurt or getting hit by a laserbeam and just stumbling backwards wasn't doing it for me.

But after giving AtLA a chance, I was able to go back to more child-like shows and to just roll with it. The plot never really interested me. We need to do this or that in order to accomplish this- fine by me. Just do what you do.

I never cared much about the kingdoms or the people living there. It was just decoration. Some interesting character designs in the background. No culture. When the evil-doers took the decoration away, I didn't care. I was missing some "war leaves scars, in people and the landscapes". Sometimes wounds can't be healed. Sometimes we can't return things the way they were. Make the loss of something count so you see its worth.

There was also never a moment where I wanted to know more about the lore or the past. How it all functions. What carried the series were the characters. But a lot of them are more like a walking gimmick and aside from that nothing.

I think Bow is one of the best characters. He has some nice, positive masculinity going, he is a mediator, he tries to find solutions and tries to keep the team together. When he later just snaps and says "I can't be the happy one all the time!", I felt that. He has a right to be mad at someone too (Glimmer) and he doesn't have to instantly forgive. Lol, I had people say you are immature if you don't forgive and stuff. And dozens of characters who constantly have to be the bigger person, no, more like they have to be Jesus in order to keep the rest happy and zero damage is shown. Their psyche doesn't matter.

So. Big <3 for Bow and his only weakness: A covered belly! x'D

---

Scorpia is probably the heart and soul of the series. And after seeing how her original was... that's fucking evolution times ten! xD She is just so genuinely likable and clueless while also being insecure. When she wears the princess-prom dress for the first time and blushes... what a cutie! I was going AWWW! And when she finally realizes that Catra is no friend material and Catra realizes who she chased away with her behavior: That was true loss! I felt that. I didn't do wrong to Scorpia, but I felt the pain anyway. So, like Bow, Scorpia didn't stay the punching bag forever and reacted. I like that!

10 out of 10 scorpions for Scorpia!!

---

Entrapta has a really cool design, especially with her moving hair. All the budget to the hair! For some reason I also like her name a lot! It's rather extraordinary, heh! Unlike "Glimmer" or "Bow" which are rather on the nose. Normally I dislike the "limitless young genius" trope, but Entrapta at least had some limitations (mostly when they were plot-relevant, though) and she is a princess after all, so a special affinity to something (and if it is machines) beyond a normal person's grasp is believable. Unlike others... (Raph from TFP. "Hacking into the FBI? No problem!" H-How?!) And while she is in regards to anything else rather airheaded (uhm, robots kill people. Well, not on screen, but... I'm sure they killed someone), she at least realizes that later and it got her a connection to Hordak which no usual good guy could have done.

An army of robots for Entrapta!

---

Hordak the missed opportunity. Not enough screentime at all. They gave this cliché evil guy a soul and they did next to nothing with it. All his good scenes are with Entrapta and there are only a few. Later he sheds TEARS when he realizes she never betrayed him! Why can't we get more scenes like that? Him being a failed clone is a good backstory and a scene with the creation of Imp would have complimented that a lot. Imagine the half-dead baby lying there and it's about to be flushed away, but Hordak hesitates. He picks Imp up, looking at him. Discarding him because he is not perfect? Because he will never be what he was supposed to? But who says that he can't accomplish something? Hordak sees himself in the baby and shows fate the metaphorical middle finger. He presses the baby tightly against his chest and murmurs: "We will show them...", accepting the baby and ultimately himself...

In the last season we get Wrong Hordak and while having someone around who is completely pure and naive to a world beyond the hivemind (just like a person escaping a cult) is important to show so we get the clones's perspective, we kinda lose on the real Hordak there. All he does is stare at that one crystal sometimes... until the end when he does the "throw the emperor in the pit Darth Vader style!" thing. Lame. He should have been with the good guys sooner and shown some recovery there.

A baby bottle for Hordak so he can feed his future robot children with Entrapta.

---

Glimmer. For some reason I always saw her as a side character who somehow got cast as a main character. She just constantly slipped out of my mind. Oh yeah, she has mother issues and a whole family and kingdom, but... she just seems so flat! You could put Adora in her position and nothing of value would have been lost. Still the main hero who fights evil. Maybe without fancy glitter magic. When she becomes queen and later almost a tyrant, that's when she gets more interesting, but still... I was just "where is Adora?" whenever she hogged the screentime. Not interested in this character in the slightest. No glitter for Glimmer.

---

Adora. Does the main character things. Even doesn’t hesitate sacrificing herself for the greater good. Is the typical main character. Doesn’t think things through, runs towards the enemy, is immature, gobbles down food. Main character. I don’t like this kind of main character, but I don’t hate her either. Neutrality for Adora.

---

Catra got too much screentime. Yeah. We get it. She has issues. She makes bad decisions. Very bad. She regrets it. Is hurt. But can't be the bigger cat. When she later visits Glimmer constantly in her prison, I was just groaning. Give someone else the screentime! We get it! We get Catra's problems! Sometimes less is more!

I don't know how people viewed her coming together with Adora in the end, but I was glad they were allowed to kiss and say I love you and so on. Not that I shipped it, but hey, be happy. They were all over each other throughout the series. Just let them be happy. Yeah, Catra did horrible things (but what I said about lasting damage in this series. It ain't there.), but if Catra was Starscream, I wouldn't object either and I have to stay fair here. If Starscream is a war criminal and I still simp for him, then I have to give other villains the same treatment without finger pointing and screaming "Abusive! Toxic!". Except I want it to be, but that is another story to tell...

Aside from that, Catra showed regrets and emotional pain. Starscream is entirely different there. I love him the way he is, but... sometimes it's hard to stay on his side. But that's the writers's fault. I also like about Catra that she just laughs into villains's faces. I didn't expect that character to be able to carry a whole army on her shoulders and lead them. With nothing but cat powers, lol. That thing with electrocuting Entrapta and pushing the "planet gets blown apart" button... juuuuust stop. It ain't worth it. That's some serious own grave digging there.

A cat for Catra.

---

The lesser princesses. Why are the elements so weirdly spread? We got magic, plants, water, ice, lightning bolts. And some others who don't have crystals. But the main elements are really weird decisions. From the traditional elements we got only water and it hogs two crystals! Then we got the element of magic which is okay in the context of this world. Then plants and red electricity which is also okay on a greater Pokémon-esque scale. It feels like something is missing there. Especially when they talk about their weaknesses "Fire, fire, fire..." Where is the fire princess? The earth princess? These are two main elements and if you don't want to go the traditional route then make all elements something out of the ordinary. Not water AND ice if you only have five crystals around.

---

Frosta could have been entirely cut. She says nothing of worth and adds nothing of worth. Her gimmick is "Toph" but with heart and soul cut out. When she was introduced I expected her to be the most mature, raised from a young age to act more adult than she actually is, because she needed to grow up fast in these times. Her country is the largest and with great power comes great responsibility. We could have gotten quite political here, how complicated it can be. The hard decisions you have to make and the compromises you have to take. All for the sake of keeping your people safe. Her character arc could have been about that and about finding her childish side again which was denied from her. There. Also her big country is meaningless aside from her introduction episode. Since she always fights with the princesses alone with ZERO bodyguards and all... Where is the power of that country??

A snow-less winter for Frosta.

---

Mermista's gimmick is "snarky". When she shows new parts of her personality like reading novels, it's a one-episode thing. It takes quite a while for her to get actually likable. Not that I disliked her, she just had no presence. When she later leads a mission we get to see more of her, but those are the moments where I feel like we are missing a couple of episodes that should be dedicated to the other princesses alone or with them as the focus. They are just shoved into the background so much by Adora, Bow and Glimmer, that shouldn't be. They are in the opening after all as if they are part of a group that is always together.

Sea Hawk is constantly dancing on the thin line between okay and annoying. Though I like that it is a fabulous guy having a relationship with a girl and not the "boring guy". But the men of She-Ra are mostly beyond the usual men tropes of angry, stoic, boring, stupid dude. So it doesn't even stand out as much as it should, lol. Like I hate this trope that the most beautiful girl/sexy woman of a show comes together with "the average Joe" or "comedic relief who is also often times small in stature". I guess... I know why that is... Anyway, the main girl/more chaste woman gets together with the main hero. Mr McBoredom but strong! While the fabulous guy... is either evil, has a bad character, is not traditionally manly, is just shallow. No pretty men for the girls. Well. Not anymore!

A dolphin for Sea-Ra and what she could have been if she had more screentime.

---

Perfuma is the hippie princess and I guess my favorite from the lesser princesses (though, there is no real competition.). The way she handles things are in line with her beliefs and sometimes she says some actual intelligent remarks, but isn't listened to because she isn't the brash one, but the harmonious one. Which is sad. Everybody rather calm down and meditate instead of getting in each other's faces. That could work wonders sometimes. So, she actually is the first to see that Scorpia doesn't want to attack them when she left Catra while the others just keep attacking. Her shtick really is taking into consideration when she is written in a situation. However, sometimes it is a bit too much. Power of friendship isn't going to break the mind-control chip and they all saw time and time again that IF the controlled person can get a grasp on themselves again, it's only for mere seconds. So cut the crap, it's not against your beliefs when you stop thoughts-and-prayers-ing for something that won't change without actually doing something against it. Fun fact: Because she was so insisting of poweroffriendshipping Scorpia out of control, I was almost expecting a digivolut- uhm, a transformation there, lol! Especially because they mentioned before, she could be one of the strongest princesses. Well, of course she wouldn't become more forceful. Except she might get the power to swipe negative thoughts away and disperse fighting will. Now... that didn't happen, but still... (Also a nice episode with her having to admit she doesn’t get cacti. There is actually some character development here!)

A beautiful flower for Perfuma!

---

Spinnerella and Netossa. “The biracial gay couple” hanging around in the background until they became characters in the later seasons. Finally! I found the “biracial gay couple” trope so often in shows, it’s like they want to stuff as much diversity as they can into two characters and then keep everything else conservative. Thankfully She-Ra shows a lot of diversity everywhere.

A net carried by wind for Spinnerella and Netossa.

---

Swift Wind. Back to the sketch block. Nothing of worth was done or said. He is supposed to have this super important magical connection to She-Ra, but she hardly uses him. He is just another fighter... somewhere else. If he is there. And he stands out like a sore thumb as the only talking animal. Maybe you could make it a gimmick for a toyline that every princess can summon a pet to ride. That would have been cool. Or if he stayed mute and acted just like a horse. Then you could have had the cuteness factor. And the animal behavior factor which is also cute... and funny. Think of Pegasus from Disney's Hercules. That's a good horse companion! But Swift Wind? Annoying. Unimportant. Waste of time.

No unicorn for Swift Wind.

---

Shadow Weaver. Didn't like her. Wanted power, got what she wanted, but too much. Ugly now. Her powers are rather weak. I didn't even pay attention to the episode where she haunts Adora. As if that's gonna do something in the long run. Then Catra stole her job. Rightfully so. She got imprisoned, then fled, then became an ally. When she later sacrificed herself and said to Catra that she is proud of her, well, did she say it so Catra would do what she wanted or did taking off the mask symbolize that she finally said the truth? We might never know and we might never care.

No dark magic for Shadow Weaver.

---

Emperor I have two many eyes. (Badumm-Tss!) "I want to destroy the universe!" What a lame motivation. What can I even say to that? Of course only mind-controlled people would follow this goal and I remember a series where someone carried their own clone and said "It's sad when oneself is the only one you can rely on/trust". Yeah.

Why did Hordak even build an empire when everything was supposed to be destroyed? Why open a portal to the asshole who didn't want you in the first place? So many toxic parental figures in this series. And the children won't stop wanting their approval. When Prime shows Glimmer the last pieces of destroyed worlds or gives her food that is made of things that could only be found in these worlds, one gets a glimpse of the horror he represents. He could be the most horrible gourmet of all time "I only eat things made out of extinct lifeforms". Petty. But oh so scary. When you are so powerful that you can destroy worlds, what do you care about the ants living on them? But nah, he has some pseudo-religious thing going, assimilating people into his hivemind like the borg in Star Trek do. Actually, just assimilating people and growing his army and enriching the collected wisdom of galaxies could be a motivation, too. Then the good guys could make a stand for individualism. But eh, too complicated.

No green juice for Horde Prime.

---

Prepare for Trouble and make it Double. Double Trouble. I learned something about the incompatibility of neutral pronouns and my native language. Their gimmick is "actor" and it's pretty over the top, it gets annoying fast. Not even the gayest nurse I'm working with talks like that and they would make any gaydar explode in a second. Maybe they could have gone a little deeper with that and give them some meta jokes about how scenes are gonna unfold and give us some surprises there. I don't like the opportunist crap they pull off, why even bother working together with Catra in the first place? Always join the winning team? What a Knock Out. Get out of here, before I make you swallow your own tail! Yes, I’m still salty about that. Fuck you, Predacons Rising! Fuck you!

A mirror for DT because after all they still have a sexy body.

#she-ra #princess of power #I guess you won't mind this more than an answered ask bomb

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hardman5509 · 3 years

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A Gift For Keine

@touhousecretsanta

Howdy there @kikuhan I’m your Touhou Secret Santa, and I got a story for ‘ya! This one goes around your request in a roundabout fashion, but I figured something different would be more interesting.

I don’t know much about PC-98 characters (outside of the obvious ones), so I stuck with the ones I knew about. Hope you enjoy it!

Living out in the middle out of nowhere did have a massive downside to that. Mokou didn't have money. She generally lived off things that she could find lying around...or stealing. She had a habit of stealing a whole lot, even more as of late due to the growing number of powerful individuals coming to Gensokyo. It seems like there's someone new coming in every other day.

Back on topic, Mokou didn't have any money of her own. And she wanted to get something for...that holiday...that green-haired girl that lived at that mountain shrine raved all about at this time of year. Christmas, right? It's weird, but people were getting into it. Even more with the humans. They loved it! They would gather around in the middle of the village, surrounding a large tree, and decorate it. They would also go out and give each other gifts...

And that's the part that has Mokou worried. No money, no gift. And she really wanted to pay Keine back.

It was Keine that introduced her to the holiday in the first place after all. Keine spent most of her time working with the humans, and while she did initially criticize the event, she did end up accepting it. Mokou had noticed it, along with Keine's own problems. Keine had been greatly affected by all of the new people that made Gensokyo their home, as that meant she would have to work longer and harder to protect the Humans. Whenever she came by to visit, Keine just seemed to be out of energy, always tense, and more ready to snap.

“Sorry.” Keine would then apologize. “It's just...”

Mokou knew that Keine really needed a break. And that would be impossible, Keine didn't really trust anyone that's not human. Mokou...technically still counts as one, but Keine just refused to allow her to take over. So getting her to take a break isn't going to be what Mokou is going to get her, she's going to get her a gift that would help Keine relax!

And in fact, that weirdo shopkeeper is selling something from the other world that might help with that. It's a machine that massages your feet; that sounded perfect for someone like Keine. Mokou puffed out her chest as she started to look around for somewhere she could get some money, and fast. The Human Village is out of the question however, she didn't want to tip Keine off to her plans. Shrine-duty isn't going to pay her anything, let alone if she decides to go and work with Reimu.

...so that left...

“Huh.” Eirin mused out as she looked over the annoyed-looking Mokou. “I guess I could pay you for help, but I'm more concerned that you will just start a fight with the princess...”

“I don't care about the princess, I just need the money.” Mokou interrupted. Eirin responded by tossing a pill that was nearby at Mokou's head. Mokou just let the tiny thing bounce off her forehead. “I need the money for a Christmas gift.”

“Really?” Eirin tilted her head. “Just a Christmas gift? Wouldn't you like to have money all the time? I mean, I could use some real help around here, and if you had more money, you could leave the forest behind...”

“Just a Christmas gift.”

“Okay.” Eirin grunted. “I guess if you just want some spending money, I can hire you on as a janitor.”

“Done, deal, where's the mop, I'll go ahead and clean up.” Mokou breathed out as she jumped up to her feet.

“I don't need anything cleaned right now.” Eirin followed suit. “When I ask for you...“

“Break-time? Break-time.” Mokou spoke out and pulled out one of the few things she has left, a pack of cigarettes. A commodity of the other world, and yet damn expensive here in Gensokyo. She's lucky to get even one packet like this and she had to trade some herbs she found in her part of her woods to get them...

And Eirin snatched them and then promptly tossed them into the trash bin. “You're working in a medical facility, smoking is only allowed outside.” Eirin told. Mokou almost felt tempted to go ahead and just leave...but it's either this or working at a shrine. And yet, the endless and repitive nature of shrine work would probably allow her to take a drag every now and then...

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

Mokou had another surprise awaiting her when she went outside. Marisa! Mokou's entire body started to tense up upon seeing that walking bundle of chaos. Marisa waved. “Yo, firebug!”

“Hey.” Mokou replied as she looked away. “What brings you around these parts?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” Marisa wagged a finger at Mokou. “Isn't this the place you regularly trash in your eternal revenge against Princess Lazyass?”

Mokout did have to stifle a little laugh. That does accurately portray Kaguya. “Got a job here, janitorial. Need money, end of story.”

“Oh, really?” Marisa raised a eyebrow at that. “Same actually! I need some mad money for a little project coming up, and Eirin is hiring all sorts of people right now.” Marisa put her hands behind her back, starting to rock and back forth on her feet. “So, what did you have to bribe her with in order to get a job? I had to give away some of my best mushrooms.”

“I went in and asked.”

“Really?” Marisa groaned. “Just like that? I think I have just been bamboozled...” She paused for a second, before looking around the area that Eientei is situated in. The Bamboo Forest. Marisa pointed at a wall of bamboo and laughed, in the same manner as a little girl would have. Mokou pursed her lips and sat down on the steps. “C'mon, you have to admit that was kinda funny...”

“Sure, real riot.” Mokou sighed. “Look, I just want money for a Christmas gift. I don't want any trouble or shenanigans...”

“Doubtful you're going to be avoiding those, the latter sort.” Marisa pointed out. “Tewi has set traps everywhere. She might be setting them up right now as we speak. Probably putting around our main areas of work. We could be taking out the trash, and boom!” She made her hands flutter around. “Down we go into a traphole!”

“Pfft.” Mokou blew out. “I'm used to that little idiot's traps. If we just fly around, we can avoid her pitfalls.” Mokou did a little demonstration as she started to float up. “See? This will be easy...”

“Alright, we can totally do that.” Marisa nodded, pulling her broom out of nowhere. “Of course, with my broom, I can carry more than you can.” She tapped on the broom. “So, you feel like a little competition? I don't think that Eirin can pay us equally, so she's going to shell out the big bucks to the best worker...”

“I just need the money.” Mokou told, swiping her hands around in the air. “Even if you are paid twice of what I make, I don't care. Once I get enough to afford the item, I'm leaving.”

“C'mon...” Marisa cooed as she got right up next to Mokou. Mokou groaned and flinched at being so close towards Marisa. “Surely you got the spirit of competition about you. You are plenty fiery after all...” She bumped an elbow into Mokou's shoulder. Mokou let out a small snarl. “Don't you want to earn so much money at once that you can quit early?”

“Leave me be.” Mokou told as she gently pushed Marisa off to the side. Marisa took it well and giggled like the little imp she is. Mokou decided to take her break elsewhere, you know, anywhere that's not here. Mokou figured the best place to be would to be behind the big barn like building. Possibly the place that Eirin keeps all of her victims, the results of her experiments...or both!

Still, possibly a good and shady spot. Mokou walked on over to the barn and then down into a large pit. The mocking laughter of a little rabbit girl following soon after. Mokou just took a deep breath and focused on staying calm. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At least she got to work on the inside after that. Sweeping around, cleaning dishes, and properly cleaning up lab equipment is all boring work. But it keeps her away from Marisa, Kaguya isn't bugging her as she's sleeping off an all-nighter of games, and possibly from Tewi. No telling if Tewi has somehow managed to booby-trap the inside of Eientei, and the other people living here had jut gotten used to it and knew where the traps were.

Except Reisen. She never learned.

Mokou walked over the fallen Reisen and back into the main lab. “Swept all the dust away.” She told onto Eirin.

“Good, good.” Eirin sighed as she scrawled out a quick note. “Now, I got a important task for you.” She pulled out a wrapped package. “This is a easy one. I need you to deliver this to the Hakurei shrine. You should know where that is, right?” Mokou nodded. She had been there a few times before, and it's not like a hard place to find. It's just that nobody in the right mind would go and visit it without a decent reason to do so.

“So Reimu afforded something?” Mokou asked as she took the package in hand. She knew better to try and shake it.

“Oh no.” Eirin shook her head. “It's for Suika. She can actually afford me.”

“How?”

“I don't ask questions, and I accept payment first.” Eirin held up a finger. “Now, get going. I might not have a time limit on deliveries, but I am considering it in the future. So uphold my future reputation.”

Mokou sniffed as she exited out of the room with the package in hand. This should be easy. Just fly on out to the Hakurei Shrine, slap the package into Suika's face and get back to Eientei in time for payday. Hopefully payday and not more work. Mokou would like to get paid and leave. Still, this chore has to be more interesting and less annoying than menial labor, right?

“Hey, whatcha got there?”

Mokou groaned as she stepped away from a curious-looking Marisa. “Package. Special delivery. Need to get going.” She explained.

“What's inside, and who's it for?” Marisa questioned as she peered all around the package, somehow managing to keep up with Mokou moving it. “Hold on, I think I see a name...the shrine, huh?” Marisa's expression changed upon seeing the name of the location; going from curiosity to something like a blank stare. “What did Reimu order?”

“None of your business, got to go!” Mokou growled as she spun around, tucking the package underneath her armpit and scurrying on outside.

“Wait up!” Marisa called out, summoning her broom out of nowhere and starting to chase after Mokou. “If it's going to the shrine, you should let me do it! I know the people there a lot better than you! And I'm faster than you too...”

“Don't you got something else going on?” Mokou shouted back as she hopped off the stairs and took flight. “Like sweeping or something?”

“Oh, it's nothing! It can wait!” Marisa shouted back as she continued to give chase. She sounded actually concerned. That's a oddity to hear coming from Marisa. What about this package is so bloody important to her? Mokou would...not care to ask, nor really care about Marisa in the first place. Besides, if Marisa is so insistent on following her around, than that means she would most likely lose her job for abandoning her post...

...which will mean that Mokou will have more work to do. Oh dear.

“Hey Marisa!” Mokou called back, almost letting a little bit of panic enter into her voice. “If you get fired for following me around, than that means I will get the higher pay!”

“It's okay, it's okay!” Marisa called back. “I just think it's more important that I deliver this package, and hey, there's got to be more jobs for me out there! Really, just let me deliver the package to Reimu!” Marisa started to pick up speed, zooming dangerously close to Mokou's side. Mokou let out a sharp yelp as she quickly darted off to the side, heading back into the woods.

“All this over a package?” Mokou called out as she dipped around the various trees. “C'mon...”

Her little speech about why Marisa is throwing away her job was crudely interrupted by a even cruder trap. A log about the same size of Mokou came crashing right into her face. Mokou groaned as she fell down onto the floor of the forest into a crumpled mess, for all of a second right before she fell through the floor and into one of Tewi's pitfalls.

“Ohmygosh!” Marisa spat out as she safely landed next to the pitfall. “Is the package okay?” Mokou groaned and feebly held up the package, somehow remaining intact despite having been through three impacts. “Thank goodness!” Marisa chuckled as she took the package and soared up into the sky.

...oh right. Tewi. Everyone in Gensokyo can fly. Of course the trap-loving smart-ass would build trap in accordance with that specific trait. Why did Mokou assume that going through Tewi's stomping grounds would work out in her favor? She crawled out of the pit as fast as she could and started to go after Marisa. No doubt that Marisa would head in the direction of the shrine!

And this time she's going to avoid the forest entirely by flying over it.

“Shrine dead-ahead!” Marisa called out as she noticed the big and obvious shrine dead-ahead of her. “Alright shrine maiden, get ready to meet the sexiest, most brilliant, delivery-girl in all of Gensokyo!”

“Dead is correct!” Mokou snarled as she reached on out and grabbed Marisa by the shoulder, managing to toss the witch off her broom. “I'm not going to let you to get away with leaving me behind!”

“Woah!” Marisa shouted out as she did a barrel-roll around in the air, managing to readjust herself in the air. “Watch the package, watch the package!” Marisa shuddered as she clutched the package close to her chest as she rolled around in the air, hoping to somehow avoid Mokou coming after her. At least Mokou cannot bring out spellcards or her famous kicks without endangering the package.

“Just hand the package back to me!” Mokou shouted as she grabbed Marisa by the shoulders, intending to give Marisa a little demonstration of what falling to Earth feels like. Marisa screamed as the big green earth beneath her started to get bigger right before she impacted through the ground, leaving a Marisa-shaped crater in their wake.

“Mine, mine!” Mokou screamed as she wrestled the package out of Marisa's hands. “Now to complete the delivery...”

“Ahem.”

Mokou pulled herself out of the ground and found herself looking at the shoes of someone stomping said shoes against the ground. “I believe you just marred my grounds...” The person spoke, while rapping a certain wooden stick against the palm of their open hand.

“Ah.” Was the last thing that Mokou got to say before she canned in the head by a big orb with the Yin-Yang symbol on it.

“Oh, Reimu!” Marisa waved out of the hole as Reimu dragged the now unconscious Mokou out of the Marisa hole, allowing Marisa to drag herself out of it. “I got a package here for you...”

“Didn't order anything.” Reimu told as she let Mokou flop on down to more solid ground. “You sure you were supposed to deliver to me?” Marisa pointed to the package, still wrapped up in Mokou's hands. Reimu went on over and gently tugged it out of Mokou's clutches. “Huh, it is for the shrine...”

“Hey, my thingie arrived!” Suika cheered out as she came out of nowhere and took the package. “About time too...” She looked around, noticing both Reimu and Marisa. “Hey, now, this is a surprise...” She giggled out as clutched the package close to her chest. “You gots to wait for it, Rei...”

“What is she on about?” Reimu questioned.

“Wish I knew.” Marisa shrugged. “Hey, Reimu...” Marisa put her hands behind her back and stood right besides Reimu. “You got a nice...haircut? Right?”

“Marisa.” Reimu firmly stated.

“Hey, just making small talk.” Marisa held up her hands. “I best return to my work, along with my...” She strolled on over to the still unconscious Mokou and managed to hoist her on up onto he shoulder. “Co-worker here...”

“I hope you two are willing to come on back here and fix the damage...”

“Her, not so much. Me?” Marisa put her fee hand onto her chest. “Absolutely! Later Reimu!” Marisa whistled, and her broom suddenly zoomed on over to her, where she threw Mokou onto the broom and then she flew off. Reimu shook her head as she watched Marisa fly off. Besides the obvious wishes of Marisa not stealing stuff and her not destroying property, Reimu just wished that Marisa would just go ahead and confess her love.

When even Cirno can recognize it, you know you got some serious issues. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Package delivered madam!” Marisa saluted, with the still dazed Mokou doing the same.

“I recall only sending one of you to go and deliver it...” Eirin commented on. “But as long as you did your chores on the outside, I don't mind if you go together...”

“Oh those.” Marisa shrugged. “They could wait...”

“Marisa.” Eirin firmly interrupted, her eyes going a bit wide. “I asked you to go and dispose of some chemical waste...you did go and did that, right...?”

“MISS, THERE'S A GIANT SLIME MONSTER OUTSIDE AND IT WANTS TO EAT ME!”

“Marisa, you're fired.” Eirin pointed towards Marisa. “Help me kill the slime monster and I'll at least pay you. Mokou, help me kill it and you can keep your job.”

“Guess I don't have much of a choice here.” Marisa shrugged. She pulled out of her Mini-Hakkero, giggled exactly like the mad woman she is, and ran outside, accidentally smacking Mokou in the face. This at least got Mokou to return to being mostly 'sane'. Eirin clapped her hands, and that got Mokou to scramble on outside.

As the three got outside, they found Reisen being pummeled around by a giant slime monster. It had wrapped a tentacle around Reisen's waist and is now treating her like a hammer and there's nails everywhere that needed to punched in. Reisen's usual sort of moans and groans echoed throughout the area.

“We need to stop the creature before it escapes out of the forest.” Eirin told as she notched an arrow into her bow. “Lethal measures permitted, just try to avoid damaging Eientei.”

“MISS!” Reisen cried out as she got, rather luckily, tossed aside by the creature. Extra lucky that she got sent through the roof of Eientei, and not into the bamboo forest where she could have been impaled by the bamboo or land into a nest of some nasty creature that would have stung her a million times. Kaguya, on the other hand, will just pelt her with a newspaper a dozen times.

“I'll give it a nice bath, with my magic! Master Spark!” She fired off her trademark (stolen) attack right at the center of the mass, causing the slime to bubble and boil, but remain still. “Hey, now it smells awful!” Marisa groaned as she had to stop attacking to press on her nose.

“It's made out of various amounts of chemical waste that came from my results in my lab experiments.” Eirin groaned as she fired off an arrow, aiming at where she noticed the biggest globs of concentration within the slime, assuming it to be the nucleus of the being. The arrow didn't even make it halfway through it before the slime dissolved it. “So don't burn it! The fumes coming off it would be toxic to even youkai!”

Mokou looked down to see her hands a-flamed. “Welp, might as well take a break then...” She sighed before Eirin put a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her from going anywhere. “What, you want me to kick it?”

“Better than nothing!” Eirin motioned her head on over to the slime, with Marisa flying around it and hitting it with non-hot lasers. She didn't look to be having much fun. “If you and Marisa can punch a hole into it, leading to that big discolored blob in the middle, I can hit it with an arrow and kill it!”

“Oh, eew...” Mokou sighed. “Fine. But I am getting paid for this right?”

“Well, this is part of your job, cleaning up messes, ain't it?” Eirin chuckled as she notched another arrow. “Just get me to the core!” Mokou nodded as she ran forward to the really foul looking monster. She figured a little fire wouldn't hurt anything, just as long as she keeps it concentrated into a single kick. Just enough to give the kick a little more kick...

Great, now she sounds like Marisa.

Spinning around, and with fire surrounding her right leg, Mokou kicked through the slime. “That's it!” Eirin told. “Almost there...”

“Let me finish this in style!” Marisa called out as she zipped on down to Mokou's level and unleashed another powerful beam, aiming where Mokou had kicked in before. It did punch through a little bit more, but then Mokou and Eirin noticed the smoke coming from the gap...

“Marisa?” Eirin coughed out. “Did I tell you to not use fire?”

“I thought it would be...” Marisa coughed in return. “...fine, now...”

“How...” Mokou hacked out. “...did you get to live this long?”

“Well...” Marisa giggled, throwing in a small cough. “Good luck, good friends and good looks mostly...”

“Ugh!” Eirin grunted as she pulled a gas mask out of her pouch and slapped it onto her face. “I should just bought the mushroom off you!”

“Wait, what?” Marisa asked, her voice now clear of any congestion. “I could have gotten more?”

“I only agreed to let you have the job as it would be easier to keep you around than have you run around as free as you want!” Eirin told as she grabbed a second mask and slapped it onto the reeling Mokou. “Plus it would cost me less to pay you a minimum wage than to pay out for that rare mushroom!”

“Well, I don't feel like helping you out anymore.” Marisa crossed her arms. “Seeing how now you owe me a greater deal of mon...”

The slime monster decided to go for the easier target of the standing witch and continue its favorite game of 'hammer girl'. Bad sexual innuendo aside, Marisa got the usual Reisen treatment and got pummeled around for a bit before being sent flying off. Unlike Reisen however, Marisa actually remembered she could fly and managed to tuck herself into recovering in the air.

“Hey, I ain't no comic relief character!” Marisa groaned. “That's it, you want some real power?” She pulled out her Mini-Hakkero and aimed it down towards the slimeball. “How about a real big Master Spark?” Energy started to gather around into the mini-generator, making the air buzz with heat “I'll eradicate you with one good shot, 'ze jerk!”

“We should run.” Mokou thumbed behind her.

“I don't think that's going to help much...” Eirin sighed.

“LOVE SIGN: MASTER SPARK!” Marisa shouted, unleashing a full strength blast of rainbow energy out of her hands, with the creature caught right in the middle of the explosion. Good news? The beam nor the shockwave of it ended up damaging Eientei, and hey, it destroyed the slime creature. Bad news is that instead of disintegrating the creature, it splattered gloriously and gore-ly all over Eientei.

“On second thought, you were right.” Eirin remarked as took off her gas-mask. At least that prevented her from getting gunk in her mouth. “Where's Marisa now?”

“Running off.” Mokou told as she looked up, seeing Marisa quickly darting away.

“Oh well, don't have to pay her then.” Eirin shrugged. “Tell you what.” She pointed on over to Mokou. “Clean this up and I'll double...”

“Triple.”

“Triple your payment.” Eirin sniffed as she swiped her hands of the goo, sending it flying on over to Mokou's face. “See you in about three hours.” Eirin groaned as she went back inside.

Mokou looked all over the area. The slime is covering everything. And she meant everything. The trees, the bamboo, the roof, the side of the building, the floor, her and the returning Reisen. She just groaned and went back inside. Mokou wondered if she could possibly burn the slime away, but being someone with a brain, she remembered that the slime would produce some toxic fumes if she tried to burn it.

She located the mop and water bucket. It too was covered in slime.

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

It took six hours, but Mokou had managed to clean up most of the slime. At least all of the stuff that's within general view. Surely the scant amounts of slime wouldn't turn into anything. They would just fade away at some point. Mokou got her tripled payment and got away from that crazy place. She didn't want to stick any longer than she had to. No telling what would happen next. There could be a explosion, someone from the moon...

She got the money, she got what she came for, time to get that gift (and some smokes now that she had some money to spend) and wait for Christmas day. This gave Mokou time to really calm down after all of that crazy nonsense that had gone down at Eientei. And then came...

Christmas time! Snow had started to fall, people were wearing all sorts of festive wear that made Mokou's eyes hurt a bit, and Keine could finally get a break from teaching/defending the humans to relax. The perfect time to present her gift! Mokou ran on over to Keine's house with the package in hand.

“Yo, Keine!” Greeted Mokou as she just invited herself in.

“I would appreciate if you would at least knock first.” Keine sighed as she put down her pen. “So, what's up?”

“I got a gift for you!” Mokou told as she held out her wrapped-up gift. “I worked hard for it.”

“Oh, Mokou...” Keine immediately relaxed and put a hand on her chest as she saw the crudely-wrapped up gift. “You really got this for me? That's so sweet, but you really didn't have to...”

“Nah I wanted to.” Mokou shook her head. “You work so hard for...peanuts? That's the word they use, right? What I mean you do a lot for little...”

“It's only right I chose this life.” Keine sighed as she stood up. “Because someone has to.”

“And because you don't trust anyone else to do it?”

“Look, I keep on seeing other powerful people squander what they have on such...ridiculous things.” Keine sniffed. “Reimu would rather sit around the shrine all day and invite in youkai than to tend the needs of humans. Marisa does her own thing all the time. And I do not dare to ask of the youkai or the other individuals affiliated with youkai...”

“Like Sakuya?”

“Her loyalty to her mistress means that she will prioritize gathering of blood over protection.” Keine scoffed. “There's just not so many people around that I can entrust the protection of humans over.”

“Then why not me?” Mokou asked holding the present close to her chest. “My immortality means I can keep it going for a long time...” She drew in a long breath as she ended up stumbling around with her words. “Well...” She breathed out. “You know. That thing.”

“It is something that I will not ask of you.” Keine shook her head. “Maybe once I do pass away, but while I live, it is my burden. Asking a friend, let alone you, is not something I can ask of you.”

“Let alone?”

“Oh, you know...” Keine chuckled as she looked away rather shyly. “Someone...like you. Someone to enjoy Christmas with.” She walked on over to a mini-icebox, opened it up, and pulled out a bottle of what looked to be a good vintage of sake. “So, how about it? You want to spend a night with me? Just you, me and this bottle of sake?”

“Yeah...yeah.” Mokou sighed. “That would be great. I got nothing else going on...”

Keine breathed out as she went on over to her couch, sake in hand. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. Mokou put a small smile as she sat on down right next to Keine. Mokou wasn't ready for the next bit of Keine resting her head onto her shoulder. Mokou's cheeks flared up and she felt the need to play with her collar. Room got a bit too hot for her liking.

“Oh yeah.” Mokou found a small way out of this. “Your gift. You wanna open it?”

“Might as well!” Keine giggled as she took the gift and tore through it.

“So you like it? It can massage you, so you can...”

“Eeerr, Mokou? This is a massager...”

“Something wrong? Not the right size for you?”

“No, you see...this is for adult use.”

“But you are an adult.”

“...private adult time.”

“Oh. Oh.”

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

“Merry Christmas Reimu!”

“I don't celebrate it.”

“I got you something for free, ze?”

“Ah. So you did.”

“Really awesome, isn't it?”

“I don't know, Suika got me the same thing as well.”

“Oh.”

“...look, if you want to bang, just ask nicely.”

“Ah.”

#touhousecretsanta #keine kamishirasawa #fujiwara no mokou #marisa kirisame #suika ibuki

18 notes · View notes

bittybattybunny · 3 years

Note

Did Kai have any sort of family after losing her foster family and becoming the Demon King? Or did she only have her husband?

Yes actually!!! A lot of Kai’s own story involves her own found family collection (i say collection just. cuz she tends to outlive them)

I’ve briefly mentioned she has a few kids and you see them in one of my sketchbook tours

but she also has a group of friends who she was close to

and the opening chapter of one of her ‘stories’ involves her dealing with the loss of a close friend she considered family (she even tried to go through legal means to see him but when humans turned around and said fuck you she snuck in. I can actually post this writing if people wanna read it?)

She also has some of her adoptive family still alive tho the bloodline is thinner. The Hellsing family she was raised in still exists to a point in her story (before the great catastrophe at least) Her whole ‘became the demon king’ thing happened when her uncle attacked her but she was able to get her sister in law and unborn nephew to escape while she distracted the rest (i have a whole ass animatic planned for this to the song “monster” from frozen’s musical. someday. someday I’ll be able to sit down on it weep)

This nephew was the one who hired Ren to help find “the king of fear” as she was known at that point. Alex is a good boy. His son was the one who went to find his great aunt after Ren’s death and she fully became a fallen god and offered her a place to stay and just. try to relax. She ended up falling into a deep sleep for a while and his family was the ones to build the ‘tomb’ she normally rests in when ever she has these extreme ‘low energy’ periods which can last between 5 years to her longest one was 5000. Typically she’ll rest for between 20-50 years at a time. and there’s a legit reason she does this too. But that’s not about family---

Point is that family is still very fond of their matriarchal demoness and she helped them found “Prometheus” a group to help humans deal with monsters and monsters live in peace. (cuz boy howdy do people have trigger fingers) there are other groups in their world with either similar goals or ones to ‘suppress’ monsters (example: The Order is a group who sees monsters as tools and lesser beings. sometimes Prometheus is forced to work with them and normally they send strong demons or dragons and such so that The Order can’t do anything to their operative. it was on one of these collaborations that Kai kidnapped Booberry from them. she regrets nothing.)

Kai often just refers to the current descendant as just “her nephew” as she’s too lazy to shove the amount of “great” in front of it because she’s old. there’s only one case of a niece and that’s where the bloodline ended (again that’s another story all together)

When Kai woke up after the Great Catastrophe alone she ended up meeting a young man named Leo (who if you look in Kai’s tag on my blog you can see him!) Who she bonded with and she likes hanging out with (and there’s other things but I’m not gonna talk about it)

There’s also her ‘generals’ and a few of them are gonna show in TLC soon (just a brief cameo) A group of 4 who’ve met Kai in a few incarnations and they always tend to get along. Original names were Matt, Trisha, Faith, and Maki is Maki (she’s an elf so she lives longer) Current names are Byron, Tiffny, Jacob and Maki. These four actually form Ren’s party when he’s trying to find his wife at the actual start of “Nightmare’s Dream” and you learn they each have a connection to Kai through the story.

Matt/Branden/Byron; he’s featured in the writing I mentioned up top, he’s kinda similar to Leo in the way he interacts with Kai as an almost human morality pet for Kai. He used to be Kai’s student when she was teaching, and his father was the warden at the jail her friend Sammy was in (this is the friend she lost) Matt can see through her disguise when she’s showcasing nightmares. Kai can cause hallucinations on targets using her ‘fear’ hence her title “king of fear” and normally they are only visible to her and her target. But Matt can see them.

He ends up getting in trouble a few times; once with a tribe of demons who want to turn children into imps, once with the literal Anti christ, once with a haunted house. And each time Kai was there and ends up saving him.

Matt later is in an accident and ends up reincarnating as a winged human named Branden and has all his past memories. So when he starts working at Prometheus as one of their ‘informants’ (aka he goes to gather information in both human and supernatural affairs. he’s referred to often as the angel of trust because of his silver tongue) and he meets her again he shouts something from one of his classes with her causing her to snap back on reflex until she realizes (running joke is Kai loathes Julius Ceaser and if you say his name she always whips around shouting “WAS A SLUT AND A HARLOT” in a very aggressive tone. It makes people laugh when she does and she always gets embarrassed afterwards)

The two of them end up working together for a while and become good friends (and maybe a bit more but they never state really) but then when with his new work partner Trisha (nicknamed angel of death, she works in the sector that deals with cleanup) he ends up betraying Prometheus and Trisha rips his wings off and kills him (this is the context between the ‘redraw’ meme I do every few years of a man with a bleeding back drowning)

Trisha is also someone who grew close to Kai (hence she killed Branden because his folly led to Kai nearly going berserk) but she was killed by a sleeper agent from the order. And this is how Kai lost two of her close friends.

Now backing up to Sammy the inmate one; he was with her when Kai met her first child, the young moon goddess Artemis. Arty is a constant for the demoness ever since she picked her up in the woods (her arc also has one of my favorite kai lines: (which i can’t find the direct line but)

Sam shuddered as he looked around the woods, “Do you ever feel like there’s 100 eyes watching you?”

“Yes but it didn’t work out so we broke up.” The demon responded flatly as she looked around with a deep set scowl.

While she was out with Sammy when he was hunting they ended up finding a little girl who turned out to be a new goddess and her elder sister was kidnapped by the embodiment of Greed in his attempt to become a god. Kai ends up stopping this but also kinda ends up becoming Arty’s mom. While she doesn’t raised Arty fully she does do a lot of teaching and such for her and does refer to her as “her daughter” and Arty calls her mom. when the great catastrophe occurs, Arty is one of the few gods who remained when the rest went to new ‘realms’ or simply vanished and is considered one of the main gods of their world because of this.

And then there’s her son Ganon, an Orc Lord she adopted when his village was ruined. he currently poses as her ‘demon king’ while she pretends to be the chancellor (this is the ruse she uses. normally heroes will fight the ‘king’ and lose but if they actually are a threat or have poor reasoning she kills them from behind. this is also how the story starts as someone found a spell to try and incapacitate her buttt)

There’s also morte and her daughter demeter (I’ve shown them before, a set of necromancers) who she’s very friendly with. Demeter even calls her aunty Kaya and loves to sit on her lap and such during meetings. (i have one snippet when Kai was recruiting someone to their side but hadn’t told her yet she was the REAL demon king and Demeter was sitting on her lap laughing) Morte is thankful to Kai for saving her circus (Morte runs a circus that helps those stuck in limbo pass on but at one point demons of sin over took it in a way to gather souls)

There’s also her friend Ciera, the daughter of the girm reaper. she’s Kai’s best friend for the most part of her life, and is the one who helps Ren when the gods of life and death try to prevent him from reincarnating again (which is like other things a whole other story) (she also briefly shows in Bone Stealer at one point. While visiting bunny’s sick grandmother, Bunny and Steve run into Ciera as she’s leaving. Steve stops Bunny from attacking her) She’s over all chill.

There’s also Nicki. Kai’s ‘twin’ brother. He’s the ‘bad guy’ through the arc that contains Leo and sets up ‘the great Split’ that Kai will cause (this is lore/plot stuff) He originally was raised to hate her by their maternal Uncle who’s a arch mage like Ren however he’s fallen due to his hatred of Kai’s birth. Nicki is not really her brother (in the first life) but a failed clone of the demoness. When Kai is reborn Nicki gets to actually be her brother and the two get along really well and he’s very protective of his sister now that he understands what her actual deal is and not the bs his uncle fed him. Before the rebirth too Nicki helped kai solve some stuff and worked with her until his death (unlike her, he was not immortal)

And then Kai actually has two bio children with Ren! Akito her son takes after her and he’s the one who takes over her role as the true demon king of Tir-Na-Nocht so she’s able to die and try life again, and a daughter, Rei who takes after Ren in looks but... she’s a himbo. pure moron. she got her grandpa’s himbo gene strong. She’s a cat girl who works with her brother and she is the head of the guard.

Aki actually has his own story where he grew up in a ‘mundane’ world but then his entire class got ‘isekaid’ to another. it gets shown that this isn’t truly the case. the great ‘split’ mentioned above was Kai literally broke the world in two realms. She made one primarily humans and high tech and then the other was magic and mostly monsters. there are a mix of both but it cut down heavily on the murder. She raised Aki in the human side for his and Rei’s safety due to them being the children of a fallen god (mama worries) and Aki inherited his mother’s odd ‘status’ “Hero/Demon King” so he has to not expose his demon nature and also stay below the radar (it turns out the person who summoned them was attempting to break a centuries old treaty) until his mother and father can figure out what happened to him (thankfully he can go to a church and his older sister Arty can act as a messenger but there’s a bit of a time split in the worlds) That world is actually the one “Fae Rules” takes place in o7o.

She also is friends with a dead prince named “Shade” (yes this is who you think it is) as well as her ‘cousin’ Sena (who she loves to give shit to)

And in her second life she obvs has her brother, cousins, her father (her father’s boyfriend/her manny), aunt’s etc!!!

So yes; she had family other than her husband!!!! And she cherishes them all.

#ask #anon #nightmare's dream #sorry this got long #but i have so much stuff on kai's story and lore and just sfjdokjfkdsgsf #SHES MY BABY OKAYYYYY #KAI HAD FOUND FAMILY BEFORE I EVEN KNEW THE TROPE NAME #also i have a wip animatic of her dad's bf #when she was a kid after rebirth #and she just abused the guy unintentionally

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unlockthelore · 4 years

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Piece of the Sun

Upon his return, Sesshomaru seeks out Rin and learns about a story she’s told. From the fic Feathers in the Wind on Ao3. For more updates, follow the feathers in the wind tag on this blog.

Sesshomaru was hardly surprised to find Rin missing from her study. Jaken groveled at his feet while he passed with a heavy glance quietly demanding to know where she’d gone. Cautiously, the imp lifted his head and peered up at him.

“To t-the quarters where the kenin reside, m’lord,” he warbled, clearing his throat as he blurted out. “I’ve told her more than once visiting them is beneath a lady’s stature, but she simply won’t listen!”

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes and Jaken choked on another outburst, quickly bowing his head. Of course Rin wouldn’t listen, he thought to himself as he strode through the castle corridors, ignoring those who lowered their gaze. Sunlight tinted the shoji and brought the images on them to life, rolling hillsides painted in sun gold. The corner of Sesshomaru’s lips twitched upward at the memory of Rin painting in earnest.

Colors streaked across her nose, the sides of her fingers, and her elbows when she finished. Tired and wanting, throwing her arms around him to the onlookers’ surprise, the wet paint staining his clothes and a chilled silence fell. When no punishment came, he could feel a collective breath taken but his attention was solely on his wife’s cheerful smile at her accomplishment.

The ache to see her returned and Sesshomaru pressed on, leaving the castle’s main building to one of the others on the outskirts. It was smaller and less extravagant but reminded him of the village his half-brother resided in. Children ran about the dirt paths surrounded by trees, their mothers and fathers committing to chores, washing linens Sesshomaru had seen folded neatly and pressed to Rin’s hands from attendants he hadn’t put a name to although she did in earnest.

By a few of the huts, doors open to allow air to circulate, children gathered on the veranda while a gaggle of women and men tended to the laundry lines nearby. Sheets billowing in the wind granted him limited view of what kept the children’s attention but he heard a voice, familiar to him as the blades resting at his hip.

Not minding the clothes lines, Sesshomaru brushed aside a few comforters and stared down at the woman on the other side who stifled a cry and clutched a few cloths to her chest. Her wide eyes and trembling mouth almost made him scowl but it couldn’t be helped. Many who tended to the castle knew of his reputation, wisely fearing what he would do if they displeased him. Even then she and the others nearby who stopped at the sight of him were human with remarkably low spiritual energy. They wouldn’t prove much of a challenge to him at all. More of a nuisance really.

“G-Good afternoon, Lord Sesshomaru,” she took a half-step backward then bowed clumsily, nearly knocking her head against the hilt of Bakusaiga.

Sesshomaru’s gaze swept from one end of the line’s post to the other as they bowed to him. A low hum simmered in his throat, gaze flicked up to where a young woman in pleated skirts emerged from the flock of children at her heels. With her back to him, she crouched down and showed them something in her hands. Their chorused gasps of awe and excitement were dulled by her giggling and Sesshomaru was hard pressed not to smile.

“Ah, were you looking for Lady Rin?”

His gaze snapped back to the woman in front of him, wringing the cloths in her hands before handing them to the man crouched beside her. After wiping her hands on the towel tucked in the front of her obi, she cupped a hand around the side of her mouth, turning back toward the smatter of huts huddled together. “Lady Rin!”

At once, it was as if the sun had come out. Rin turned with confusion pinching her lips, one of the children clinging to her neck with a whine, attempting to distract her.

“T-Tomoe, stop that…” The woman called, casting a wary glance up to Sesshomaru then away. “Lady Rin, Lord Sesshomaru’s arrived.”

It didn’t occur to him she couldn’t see him with the comforters on the clothes line blocking her view. Pushing one aside, Sesshomaru peered past it and met Rin’s gaze. Her eyes growing impossibly wide, mouth falling open then snapping shot.

“Sorry, sorry, little ones,” she said hurriedly, prying the little girl’s hands from her neck. “I’ll come play with you another day, okay?”

A cacophony of cries and whines to say followed her as she leapt off the veranda, thanking the woman on the other side of the line with a squeeze to her hands, then grasping Sesshomaru’s sleeve as she pulled him away. It wasn’t until they were further away, striding through the open fields that he allowed himself to smile.

Often times, armed with momentary fascination and a journal, Rin absconded from their home to sate her curiosities elsewhere. Demons who swore loyalty to him weren’t very kind to her but Rin hardly let that stop her. Earning the favor of humans and several others with her cheer and infectious laughter, interacting with those beneath her, despite her position as Lady. One of her charms, Sesshomaru deduced. No matter how far she’d risen in social status, Rin remained warm and welcoming to all who crossed her path.

“You didn’t have to stop,” he pointed out, staring down at her as she slipped her hand in his own.

“Of course I did.” Rin shrugged, sweet and patient as she squeezed his hand with an upward wink. “Suspense is what keeps them coming back after all.”

Sesshomaru scoffed, not minding slowing his pace to allow her to tuck her arm around his to keep him close. The warm line of her body obscured by their clothes drew his attention. A familiar scent reminding him utterly of home and safety leading him to guide her to a less taken path beneath joined tree boughs allowing slivers of sunlight as she liked to play in when the mood touched her. Pinpricks of light danced across her skin, her eyes closed, long curved eyelashes almost brushing across rounded cheeks. He found himself staring at her more than the road ahead. Committing every last detail to memory as if it was the first he’d seen it.

Something smooth and hard brushed against his sleeve and he glanced down, noticing a stone in the palm of her hand. With her fingers curled around it, she shifted her hand out in front of them. “Neh,” she prefaced, always when she was going to ask him something mind-boggling. “Would you believe I had a piece of the sun right here in my hand?”

Sesshomaru raised an eyebrow and glanced at her then her hand. Absolutely not. If she were holding a piece of the sun, it would have burned her hand and how would she have gotten it anyway? Looking to her again, his silence seemed to answer her question and she huffed in mock irritation.

“So mean,” she whined, holding the stone to her chest. “You would doubt your wife that easily? I’m crushed.”

Sesshomaru highly doubted that but he found amusing how she sulked. Bottom lip poked in a sullen pout lasting for all of a second before she tossed the stone in the air, catching it in her palm. For something so precious, she treated it with such frivolity, he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Well, the children believed me. Although I’m not sure how the story ends…”

He arched a brow. That was new. Rin’s vast imagination often lent a wealth of endings to her winded stories. “No?” He questioned when she seemed lost in thought, slipping his arm from her grasp to set his hand against her side. Almost immediately, she pressed close to him, slipping her arm around his waist.

The stone held up between her thumb and forefinger as she angled it to catch the sunlight, its surface almost seeming to glow. “I told them it was a sunstone, fallen a long time ago after a fight between the sun and moon.”

Sesshomaru hummed. With a story like that, finding a satisfying ending would be difficult. They passed over a wooden bridge overlooking a river cutting between the land, smooth rocks along its banks, gravel and sand trodden over by numerous trips by those who lived nearby. Rin’s footsteps slowed when they’d reached its center and Sesshomaru looked down at her curiously, hearing a thud and catching the stone rolling across the planks. A soft touch to his cheek, the smell of flowers and plush lips catching the corner of his mouth, stealing his attention. Chiming bells from the anklet she loved to wear reminding him of the difference in their height as he leant down to kiss her.

This is what he missed most. Unabashed affection, her arms slipping around his neck, smile pressed to his mouth as she kissed him again and again.Sweetness coated her lips and invited him with nip after nip until they were reddened and swelled. Rin’s giggles stammering his heart’s beating.

“Not interested in the story?” She murmured, a smile in her voice.

Sesshomaru scoffed at the suggestion of eagerness. Even if it was true. “You kissed me.”

“I told you you were missed, didn’t I?” Rin asked with playful exasperation, seeming to think on it for a second before adding with a breathy sigh. “Oh, I didn’t…” Another kiss filled the silence between them, his face cradled between her palms. “You were missed…”

He opened his eyes, staring at her from beneath his lashes, the blurred visage doing little to take away from the sight of her. Wanting to burn it into his memory for when she was here and when she was not.

“As were you…”

He could hear the loud thump of her heart, see the moment her smile fell then returned with such brightness it almost burned his eyes. Nimble fingers working into his hair as she pulled him closer, pressing feathery kisses to every inch of his skin she could reach. Tucking his arms beneath her, he lifted her carefully and suppressed a shudder at the kiss to his forehead, delighting in the surprised look she gave him.

“Well now you’ve made a big mistake,” she said with a beguiling grin. “Now you’ll have to carry me home, I’m afraid.”

Sesshomaru chuckled softly, allowing the moment of expression to feel her heart skip and see the utter fondness in her eyes. He expected no less from her, telling her such as he cradled her in his arms.

“Are you calling me predictable now? I’m offended.”

Predictable? Never. In all the centuries he’d wandered the world, he’d never met someone who confused him as much as she.

“Take it back,” she whispered against the shell of his ear, warmth curling and settling as heat stirred in his stomach. “Or I’ll be mad.”

Mad? He raised a brow, almost willing to leave it simply to know what mad was like for her. So often, he’d seen her cheerful and upbeat or despondent and sullen. What would her anger be like? Before he could make up his mind on the matter, Rin leant back and stuck her tongue out at him. “Joking. It would take more than that to make me mad, I’m afraid.”

What a shame. Although, he did prefer this smiling and happy Rin. Pressing a kiss to her cheek when she turned her head, he hardly expected her breath to hitch and the sharpness of her gaze.

“What was that for?”

He stared at her incredulously. “I missed you.” Wasn’t that obvious?

Perhaps not or perhaps Rin was simply pleased by the slightest showing of his affection, so often he gave it to her, he thought she would be accustomed to it by now. If anything, she seemed pleased just as the first time he’d shown it. Her nose brushing against his cheek, smile hidden in a press of lips against his jaw. Hugging close to him with her face tucked against the column of his throat.

“I have a piece of the moon right here in my arms,” whispered against his neck in a sing-song voice, her love-drunk giggling making him roll his eyes and clutch his piece of the sun a little tighter.

#inuyasha fandom #sessrin #sesshomaru x rin #sesshomaru #rin #fanfiction #my fanfiction #feathers in the wind

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yrahcaz-arataz · 3 years

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Let’s Do the Time Warp

SUMMARY: After an argument with his cousin, Zachary vents to an imp and accidentally makes a wish to send his whole club to an alternate universe in 1693 Salem.

TRIGGERS: Alcohol, death mentions,

MENTIONS: @zztophat, @of-hexes

St. Patrick’s Day was a night for all kinds of drinks and party-goers. As a club owner, Zachary was responsible for making sure his club, the Ritual, was festive for the holiday and that it never ran out of alcohol for his guests. Responsibility wasn’t exactly something that Zach was great at until it benefited him, primarily when it got him more attention. A night like this was sure to bring in a crowd, but he made it all the more tempting for them. Every seventh drink served was free, and if anyone happened to have a real four-leaf clover, all their drinks were free for the night. Anyone caught not wearing green was charged extra.

The club was adorned in all kinds of festive decorations for the holiday. Green confetti rained down on the crowd every hour at the hour. Streamers hung all around the club on every wall and ceiling. There was a fountain that looked like a glass of beer pouring over, and an actual rainbow went from one end of the club to the other where two pots of chocolate gold sat. All of the servers were dressed like leprechauns. Even Zach himself was decked out in an all green suit and tophat.

He performed throughout the night, doing small tricks while maneuvering through the crowds, but his real show didn’t start until later in the night. The main performers until then were the Hex Girls. They kept the crowd alive with their music and kept everyone dancing, but they weren’t the only form of entertainment that would draw people in. The Ritual promised to deliver a show-stopping performance starring Zachary and Zatanna Zatara. It didn’t happen too often, but Zatanna had agreed to do a joint show with her cousin. Zachary tended to enjoy them a lot more than she did, and once the show started, it was obvious why.

To Zachary, the show was great. The crowd loved it, and he delighted in the applause. However, it was at the expense of his cousin. Zachary failed to mention to Zatanna that he changed parts of their show. As a skilled entertainer, Zatanna was quick to roll with the punches and catch up each time, but it also put her in a much more difficult position each time. Even through her bright stage smile, those who paid attention could tell she was frustrated, but it was only once the show ended that she really spoke her mind.

She was understandably upset. He’d ignored cues and just done things on a whim while leaving her to pick up the pieces. She lectured and argued with him for longer than Zach could keep track of. He mainly zoned her out in favor of talking to other guests at the party, but he got the gist of what she was saying. He was unprofessional. He didn’t take things seriously. He had no attention to detail. The list went on and on and on. He argued back a little, pointing out that the crowd was happy about the performance and that a few little changes weren’t going to kill anybody. That of course, didn’t help anything and only prolonged the argument. They went back and forth like this until Zatanna just left the club. Zachary huffed as she stormed away, and he just went to his bar, getting many drinks for himself as he complained about his cousin to the current bartender.

“She’s always doing this,” Zachary explained as he downed another glass. It was quickly refilled as he continued talking. “Literally, anything and everything I do is met with ridicule and disappointment. She never has anything good to say. It’s always Why can’t you take things seriously, Zachary? Or It’s not all about you, Zach! Or What were you thinking, Zach? Or or or the one she really loves to shove in my face now: Your inattention to detail is going to get you killed, and the world doesn’t need any more dead Zataras!” Despite how he acted, Zach did listen to what Zatanna said, at least some of it. How could he not? She was so loud when she was angry with him, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t know how she felt. He hadn’t been there when her dad had died, but he had been there for the aftermath of it. She usually took care of him, not that he asked her to, but it was the one time he’d taken care of her. She’d been so broken over it, so he understood why she didn’t want to see it happen to him too. He’d been conflicted over that thought at first. He knew that he could be reckless at times, and he didn’t want her worrying about him dying like her dad had. He dealt with that with a mixture of arrogance and denial, both working to push her away as if that would stop her from worrying and then just refusing to acknowledge that he was as much at risk as she thought he was. If she would just give up on him, she’d stop worrying about him all the time, and if he actually took the time to think about how he was acting, he might’ve realized how little sense he made. Both were just as unlikely to happen. He told her constantly that there was really nothing to worry about despite his actions proving otherwise.

He sighed. “Why can’t it ever be You did a great job, Zachary! Or I’m proud of you, Zach. Or even That was a great show tonight, Zachary. I mean, I know I changed some things up last minute, but I knew she could handle it. The crowd still loved it, and it was a great show. You don’t get a standing ovation for a bad show.” He grumbled as he drank another glass. The bartender filled it once again.

“It really was a great show.” Zachary turned in his seat to look at the guest who had spoken to him and was now giggling. If Zach was just a little more drunk, he would’ve thought he was talking to an actual leprechaun. The man was extremely short. He didn’t look like he was much more than three feet tall. He was balding at the top of his head with a large amount of grey hair puffing out on both sides. He wore a purple bowler hat with a flower poking out of the brim and a purple and gold suit with a green bowtie. He had a smile that was a little too wide to seem like he was just being friendly, as if he’d smiled for too long and it had just gotten stuck that way.

Despite the signs that something wasn’t quite right with the man, Zach continued talking to him, just happy someone was agreeing with him. “Right? Thank you! I thought we did a great job.”

“You did! You did!” The man laughed. “Oh, how I’d love to see it again and again and again. How many changes do you think you could make before she just couldn’t keep up anymore and would just burst?! What do you think would come out? Butterflies? Confetti? Fireworks?”

“Fire ants, a volcano, locusts,” Zachary supplied monotonously. If Zatanna was that angry, he knew it wouldn’t be anything pretty or anything anyone would want to stick around for.

The man burst into a fit of uproarious laughter. He sounded more crazed than amused, but Zach just took another drink to get him through this interaction, only chuckling a little in response. “I like you,” the man decided. “You know how to make things fun in a way that lasts. Me, all you have to do is get me to say or spell or write my name backwards, and then all my hard work? Gone-zo. Poof! . . . Anywho, you were saying about your cousin?”

Zachary blinked. “Right . . .” His mind was feeling the buzz from the alcohol a little more now, but something was weird about what the man said. Zach still was in a foul mood though, so it wasn’t hard for him to get back on track to airing his complaints. “I just hate having to be yelled at by her all the time. It makes me wish I was dealing with literally anything else. Hell, I’d rather be living through the Salem Witch Trials than this. The only people who might actually miss me are in this club right now.” They probably wouldn’t even miss him, just the parties and alcohol he offered, but that was beside the point. At least then he wouldn’t be Zatanna’s problem anymore.

“Well, that sounds doable,” said the man brightly. Zach wasn’t sure what he meant and just rose his brow at the man. “The name’s Mister Mxyzptlk!” He announced. With a wave of his hand, the name appeared in the air above them in bright sparkly letters. Zach was sure that if he blinked, those letters would still show up behind his eyelids. “Just shake my hand, and your wish is my command!”

Zachary stood up, nearly falling over from the alcohol in his system, but he kept his balance. “What wish? I didn’t make any wish. What the hell are you talking about? What is this?” He gestured wildly around him, swiping his hand through Mxyzptlk’s name in the air. In the process of that, Mxyzptlk took his hand, shaking it. Zachary ripped his hand away, but it didn’t stop the following events from unfolding.

Mxyzptlk started giggling and singing to himself. “Oh what a glee it is to be, in Salem sixteen-ninety-three.” He snapped his fingers repetitively while doing a little dance. The entire club started to shake. It jerked forward and back. Zach and the other guests inside the club were knocked to the ground as the lights cut out.

From outside the club, it appeared just as eventful. The club was loud and bright. It shook while all of the other buildings nearby remained still. Then, in a flash of blinding light, everything sucked inwards towards the club. It looked as if it imploded, disappearing into a single point along with everything that was within five feet of it. Windows nearby shattered, pulled outward into the streets. Then, the air that filled in the space blasted back out, and everything was still once again.

Debris littered the streets. Any pedestrians nearby had been roughly tossed about by the implosion of the club and the following explosion of forceful air. Some pedestrians were even less lucky and had disappeared along with the club. From an outside standpoint, there wasn’t much concrete evidence to tell what had actually even happened. The lot where the club had been was empty, removing the complete foundation. Pipes and other electrical lines had been pulled apart as if the club were simply ripped out of the ground, but there was no real trace of where it had gone.

Inside the club, it was dark. Cut off from all of its sources of electricity, the club allowed no light in. Zachary stood up, using the chair from support. His head was still spinning, both from all the shaking and all the alcohol in his system. “Tel ereht eb thgil!” He cast his hands up, and the room brightened once more, all the lights filling with a magical glow. As the guests all started to get their bearings, Zachary used his magic to help the injured. He was weaker like this, and there was no spell he could use to cure himself of his drunken state since his powers didn’t work on people. He just did simple things like making sure glasses of water were passed around and pulling out first aid kits for people to get access to. He didn’t really know what he was dealing with here, and that crazy imp was nowhere to be found anymore.

“I’m either really drunk, really high, or I’m dead,” Zach heard someone say near the doors to the club. He didn’t like the sound of that. He quickly pushed through the crowd to get outside. There was no big city. No cars or big buildings. No smoke polluting the sky, nothing recognizable from where they’d been before. Instead, there were trees and wildlife of a forest. “Where the hell are we?”

Zach sighed. He had a bad feeling that he knew the answer. “Salem. 1693.”

#thephoenixevent #phoenixtimewarp #self para #let's do the time warp

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otterandterrierwrites · 4 years

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{Hungry hearts} XI. Chowder and fortune cookies

A/N: Hungry Hearts is back! This is my loose interpretation of the March prompt at @hanleiachallenge: luck. It’s set during the EU novel Razor's Edge by Martha Wells, one of my favourites. I’ve always wanted to write something set in this little getaway. I'm thinking there might be one more chapter set on Hoth before ESB, then we'd move to the trip to Bespin very briefly and then jump to post RotJ, but I'm open to suggestions!

also on Ao3 // FFN

***

From the main hold, Chewie growled that there was food now but there wouldn't be for much longer so everyone better hurried up. Han rolled his eyes at the threat as he wiped the worst of the grime off his hands and face before taking a quick detour to the 'fresher. Like the big fuzzball would ever let the princess starve.

He ran into Her Worship herself on his way out of the cabin as she waited for her turn to wash her hands, Threepio tottering behind her. Thankfully, the usually oblivious droid marched on.

'Excited to see what he brought this time?' Han asked, dawdling by the open hatch.

'So far, yes,' Leia said from the 'fresher, 'although I'm a bit concerned he might start to push it soon, you know? Raise the stakes?'

'Oh yeah, I hear ya. That's definitely a concern.'

She raised an eyebrow as she joined him back in the corridor. 'Thanks, that makes me feel better.'

'Well, hey, he's never fed me anything I couldn't keep down,' he reassured her.

'Has anyone ever told you you're possibly the worst motivational speaker in the galaxy?'

The smell that greeted them as they gathered around the Dejarik table told them that, once again, Chewie had hit the mark.

They had taken a short time away from the hustle and bustle of the Rebel Alliance's fleet, hoping that the crew of the Aegis —a gunship of surviving Alderaanians who had turned to piracy after the planet's destruction—would rendezvous with them to join the cause. Two days ago, the Millennium Falcon had landed on a small trading port in Wroona, one of the Alliance's message drop points, and waited.

Han was very much okay with that. After the craziness of their last mission—nearly blown to space dust by Imperials, fighting a killer mining droid, being captured by a sadistic Lorddian pirate, nearly blown to space dust by the Imps again , all in the span of a couple days—he thought a vacation was long overdue. They couldn't go out sightseeing, or motosurfing, but he was happy to just spend some time not being shot at. Leia had probably figured that out when she'd asked him and Chewie to come with her. That, and the fact that they didn't have any duties lined up, since they were not part of the Alliance.

Chewie had taken out three round styrofoam containers out of a bag and set them on the small checkered table.

'[I hope you like Wroonian seafood chowder,]' he told them as Han and Leia slid onto the bench. '[You can go get food yourselves next time if you don't.]'

The creamy broth had chunks of frella fish and shucked nyorks with diced vegetables, and it was so delicious that nobody was in any hurry to relieve the Wookiee of his food-picking duties.

'Gotta love sea ports,' Han commented between mouthfuls. 'It could be the poorest, murkiest place, but they'll know their seafood.'

'[Oh yeah? Here I thought you would never forget about Venonduri,]' Chewie said with a titter, making Han moan with chagrin.

'What happened?' Leia asked, looking between the two friends.

'Not a story you wanna hear at lunch, Princess, trust me.'

Leia made a face. 'Oh. Got it.'

'But Princess Leia, perhaps it would be useful to know more about Venonduri!' Threepio chimed in. 'What if we visit it in the future?'

'We'll just refrain from ordering any seafood, Threepio,' Leia told him seriously, making Han and Chewie laugh.

Leia seemed to be in good spirits so far, but Han wondered how much that would last if the Aegis failed to show up today again. He knew she would act like it was no big deal in front of everyone else, but it'd be eating at her inside that she had personally failed to sway them over to her cause. Han was good at being the subject of Leia's disappointment in that department.

At least they had come to an unspoken truce after their trip to Odona, although that was another thing Han didn't know for how long it would hold. That mission, just the two of them scouting the planet's unpredictable polar continent as a potential new base, had also been kind of a mess. Not only had that one featured multi-eyed monsters and old acquaintances with a grudge, but Odona had turned out to be non-viable for the base. Also, he and Leia had snapped at each other most of the time. That wasn't anything new; they had been snapping at each other since the moment they had met—but then, for a while, they hadn't, or not as seriously and constantly, at least, and it had been nice. Then they started doing it again, but things were different from what it had been like in the beginning, and their fights took longer to digest, and while they did, they corroded Han's insides a bit, like acid. It wasn't like he set out to fight with her, either, but that's where they seemed to land anyway.

Han knew where this ended if they chose the alternative to fighting. He'd been there a couple of times, and sworn he never would again.

'We certainly don't get much fresh fish these days,' Leia said with a sigh then, dabbing her mouth with a paper napkin.

'We can get some before we go,' Han offered. 'It'll keep for one meal at least, for when we get back.'

'Oh, I could ask but I don't think they will clear an expense like that. Fresh fish for the whole fleet… that's not going to be cheap.'

Han frowned. Who said anything about fish for the fleet?

'Right. I wasn't—never mind. Fish ain't that expensive here, Princess, especially if you buy in bulk. Wouldn't hurt to ask.'

After lunch, Leia went back to her work followed by Threepio, Chewie to his tinkering (he always found something to "improve" on the Falcon ), and Han decided it was a good time to delete outdated and damaged files in the ship's navicomputer, a task he always thought he should do one day but never really wanted to. An hour later, he was bored out of his mind.

Getting up from his chair, he stretched his arms up with a groan. He took the long way back to the main hold, peeking into the crew quarters as he passed by. No sign of Leia there. She was not working in the communal area, either, but he did find C-3PO uttering suggestions nobody had asked for. That was weird: Leia had brought him along to help her with work and kept the droid with her at all times. Even though Han knew she grew tired of his constant chatter sometimes, she had promised him and Chewbacca that Threepio wouldn't get in their way.

As Han walked in, he caught the droid jumping back as Chewie roared in annoyance from inside a maintenance hatch.

'Oh dear, there is no need to get so worked up, Chewbacca,' Threepio said. 'I was merely saying—'

'Goldenrod,' Han interrupted, 'd'you know where's Leia?'

'Why, yes. The Princess said she was going out to get some fresh air.'

Alarms set off in Han's brain. 'Outside?'

'That is correct. She said not to worry, she would stay quite close to the freighter.'

'Yeah, alright. Better go check on her anyway.' Thinking it would be better for all if he kept his friend from tearing off the droid's arms during this trip, Han said, 'Are you any good with computers, Goldenrod?'

He didn't have to worry: Leia was sitting on the dock just outside the Falcon , the pant legs of her jumpsuit rolled up as she dipped her feet in the water. She was leaning back on her elbows, basking in the sun, and when Han walked closer, he realized she had her eyes shut and a peaceful look on her face. Despite himself, his stomach felt as if he'd skipped a step, and for a moment he just stood there, staring at Leia.

She rarely looked that relaxed and content, seemingly free of worries, of pain. Anyone who walked by could have mistaken her for a regular crew member, catching a bit of sunlight before rocketing back to the stars and to the next port. Not a princess. Not a survivor, an enemy of the Empire, a rebel leader. Just a young woman enjoying the sea.

She deserves this , Han thought, even though he generally didn't think much about who deserved what because he knew the galaxy didn't work that way. What he could do was grant her the solitude she had sought out, though, so he stepped back. He didn't think a single board had creaked under his boots, but it wasn't the first time Leia's hearing appeared to be better than most humans. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

'Is everything okay?' she asked, sitting up straight. Han knew what she was hoping to hear.

'Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to get in your way.'

'You're not,' Leia told him. Her shoulders sagged a little before she leaned back and closed her eyes again. 'Come here and take your boots off, the water is so lovely.'

'Uh, if you're sure.'

Boots and socks were ditched, and Han joined Leia on the dock, pulling up his trousers. The coolness of the water felt wonderful on his bare feet; it was no wonder it had been enough to make Leia at ease.

'Oh hey, Chewie got us these,' he said, suddenly remembering. From one of his vest pockets, he took out two crisp-looking cookies and handed one to Leia. She gave the treat a small, delighted smile.

'Fortune cookies. I haven't had one of these in years.' She took the wrapper off the folded wafer and tucked it in her pocket, then looked expectantly at Han. 'Go on, let's crack it together.'

Han held the cookie between his thumb and index fingers and broke it, catching the crumbs in his other hand. He pulled out a thin strip of flimsi from the wreckage. As he cleared his throat, Leia cried, 'Wait, wait!' and covered his fortune with her hand.

'I'll read yours and you read mine,' she said at his confused look. Han had never heard of people doing it that way, but he swapped with her. Leia nodded for him to go on.

'"You will take a pleasant journey to a place far away",' Han read. He looked at the view around them, then raised his eyebrows at Leia. 'I think this prediction came a little late.'

'Maybe it's talking about my upcoming expedition to Hoth.'

'Oh no. Please tell me you're jokin', Princess,' Han begged.

'Better start airing those warm layers, flyboy. Okay, now yours.' Leia cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, looking at him for a few seconds with a pretend air of wisdom. '"You may want to run, but you should stay and fight."'

There was a pause.

'What?' Han watched her face, and caught her tell: a subtle flaring of her nostrils that meant she was bluffing. He narrowed his eyes at her. 'That what it says, huh?'

He dove to wrest the strip of flimsi out of Leia's hand; she shrieked and pushed a hand against his chest, and they struggled for several seconds until Leia gave it up. She laughed, her cheeks red from the effort. The last time she had blushed that badly, they had been crammed in the Aegis ' refresher, the only place that had been private enough for them to discuss sensitive information. He hadn't been very relaxed, either, as the warmth of their bodies had made the tiny hiding place suffocating. In spite of the uncertainty and danger of their situation, it had been near impossible not to follow the trail of a drop of perspiration down her collar, the movement of her lips as she talked, the curve of her falling braid as it fell on her shoulder. He had been nearly jumping out of his skin with the increasing need to kiss her, to touch her.

Realizing he had been staring at her for too long, he looked away as Leia brushed some wisps of hair behind her ear, and read his fortune aloud.

'"Enjoy yourself while you can".' Han frowned and looked at Leia again. 'That sounds like a threat.'

She shrugged, popping a piece of cookie into her mouth.

'Should have stuck with mine.'

'Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't ya?' Han muttered. He picked apart his wafer, the tiny printed messages still clutched in one hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Leia finished the rest of hers, swinging her feet in the clear water.

It had been three years since a farmboy and an old wizard had hired him for discrete passage to Alderaan. Where would he be now if he hadn't taken that gig? Dead, if he hadn't managed to get anything else to pay off his debt. Even if he had, Jabba would have dropped him anyway, as he was not in the way of giving second chances. Then he would have looked for jobs somewhere else, gone back to his old haunts. Made new friends that he wouldn't trust as far as he could throw them. Found someone to warm his bed at night, someone who wouldn't care that he didn't care one way or another to overthrow the Empire. He could have kept doing what he had been doing for the rest of his life.

But he had met Luke, and he had met Leia, and no matter how hard he'd tried—although, if he was honest with himself, which he wasn't, he had not even tried that hard to forget about them and leave them behind. And he didn't exactly hate the Rebellion—the pay was basically nothing, there were people who didn't like him much, and as the latest mission had proved, it wasn't free of backstabbers—but he had to admit it felt good to stick it to the Empire. It gave him a purpose like he hadn't had in a long time.

Mothma had offered him a colonelship some time ago. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to quit the games and take it. He'd have to ask Chewie before he made any decisions, but he knew how that conversation would go.

It would be one hell of a peace treaty, for him and Leia. It would be one more gamble.

For now, Han lay back on the dock and closed his eyes, soaking in the sun's warmth. He would enjoy himself, while he could.

#han x leia #hanleia #hanleiachallenge #han solo #leia organa #han and leia #star wars fanfiction #verse: hungry hearts #2020 #period: pre esb #rated T #series #one-shot

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rumpledgoldenweaver · 4 years

Text

A Bear In Need Of Rescue

Written for the January @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt “How on earth did you get up there?” It kind of got away from a bear in trouble but I hope you enjoy anyway! Read on my blog https://earlyrisingwriting.home.blog/2020/01/09/a-bear-in-need-of-rescue/

Rumple had never felt so relieved as when he pulled into the car park of the hotel, almost immediately finding a space. Switching off the engine he let out a small sigh. Gideon had fallen asleep at some point and Rumple was loath to wake him. Fishing his phone from the glove compartment, he sent Belle a text message saying they were finally here. He decided to wait for her reply instead of getting straight out of the car. He had a slight headache so a couple of minutes quiet wouldn’t hurt. Closing his eyes he gave a small thanks to the car park gods.

Maybe he could book a head massage.. maybe Belle would give him a…

Tyres squealed, an engine roared then a car screamed through the previously silent parking bays jolting both Rumple and Gideon awake.

“What the ever loving fu..”

“PAPA! You sweared! Mama won’t.. PAPA! Look!! it’s a police car!!!” Gideon bounced in his seat.

Sure enough an unmarked squad car hurtled after the first vehicle, disappearing towards the rear of the hotel.

“Your Mama takes us to all the best places Gideon.. come on m’boy, lets go find her before either of those lunatics come back”

“Gideon keep your voice down, the whole hotel doesn’t need to hear you” Belle admonished gently “I know it’s all very exciting but..”

“It was Mama it was! The police car went MEEEMAW MEEEMAW VRRROOOOOOM”

Rumple shook his head “There’s a children’s area in the grounds of the hotel, would you like to go play for a while son?”

“It’s nearly bath time” began Belle

“You really think he’s ready for a bath and bed? He’s bouncing off the walls, he napped on the way here. Let’s take him, it might tire him out”

“Can I take Bear please? Can I? Can I?”

“Okay okay” groaned Belle knowing she was already defeated “but don’t lose him”

Gideon’s over excitement at the police chase was swiftly replaced by over excitement at the play area

“IT’S A PIRATE SHIP!!! C’mon Bear we’re going to sail the seven seas and chase booty!”

Belle nearly choked “He’s going to what did he say?”

Rumple chuckled “Let’s find a bench and sit down, I’m far too old to chase after him. As long as we can see him he’ll be fine”

“Don’t need to see him, we’ll hear him”

Lucy was bored, she’d been at the play area for fifteen minutes with her doll Tinkerbell. There were other children there but they just wanted to play house. Lucy preferred adventure. She spotted a boy, slightly younger than her, chasing round, pretending to sword fight and clutching a teddy bear. Now he looked like fun.

“Hello. I’m Lucy. This is Tinkerbell, she can fly!”

Gideon stopped his sword fight “I’m Gideon. This is Bear.. he can fly too”

“Bears cannot fly”

“Yes they can. Watch!” Gideon threw Bear up into the air with all his might.

In the middle of the pirate ship was a tall mast. Near the top was a mock crows nest. It wasn’t big enough for a child, but it was big enough for a bear. Which was just as well because that’s where he landed with a soft thump.

Lucy looked in horror. Gideon stood with his mouth open “Oops”

“I can’t believe they got away” Weaver strode through the hotel reception. He needed fresh air.

“They can’t have got far. They have the advantage of knowing the area, we don’t” reasoned Rogers “I’ve asked the local police to put out extra patrols and.. did you hear that? Sounds like a kid in trouble”

Weaver snorted “Kids are always in trouble, it’s what they do”

“Look - over there, in the play area. There’s nothing we can do about the case for the moment. Maybe if we help then the hotel might forgive us for tearing up the car park”

“Okay Batman let’s go save the day”

As is often the case with parents who’s children have got themselves into a scrape, Rumple and Belle were verging on the kind of full scale public row generally conducted through gritted teeth and harsh whispers

“I cannot climb up after him Belle, let me use mag..”

“NO. I’ll go up after him”

“Not in those heels you won’t”

“No shit Sherlock. I’ll take them off”

“And certainly not in that skirt”

“EXCUSE ME? What is wrong with my...”

“Hi” said a dark haired young man who had suddenly appeared by Belle’s side “I’m Detective Rogers and this is Detective Weaver” he indicated a surly looking older man who reminded Belle slightly of her husband “Can we help?”

“It’s our son – he’s stuck. He’s too scared to climb down”

Weaver followed her line of sight, Sure enough there was a young boy clinging on to the mast of the wooden ship “How on earth did you get up there?”

“Bear flew up here. I came to rescue him”

“Oh I see” Weaver nodded sagely “That was very brave, but now you need rescuing?”

“Yes please” whimpered the boy

“Well you’re in luck because Detective Rogers here is the best rescuer I know”

Rogers looked at Weaver “Me?”

“Yes you. Off you go”

“Right then mate, let’s get you back on dry land shall we?” Rogers smiled as he started to climb the small rungs that were set into the mast. He reached Gideon easily “Now then, where’s this errant bear? In here?” he reached into the wooden bucket and retrieved the teddy.

“Thank you” sniffed Gideon

“No problem. I’ll climb back down a little and you follow. You won’t fall, just keep going”

Slowly the two of them made their way toward the ground.

“What’s your name son?”

“Gideon”

“Nice to meet you, I’m..”

“Captain Hook!” exclaimed Gideon suddenly noticing his prosthetic “Mama! Papa! I’ve been rescued by Captain Hook!”

Weaver tried hard to contain his laughter however it exploded out of him in a coughing fit.

Belle and Rumple were mortified “I am so sorry” they both began at once.

Rogers waved it away “It’s fine honestly. If it makes the lad feel better I don’t mind at all”

Rumple handed over a business card “If there is ever anything I can help with, just call”

The two officers started to head off when Weaver’s phone rang.

“Yes” there was a pause then “When? Which direction? Okay” he snapped the device shut “They’re on the move Rogers, come on”

The Gold’s watched the men hurry off in pursuit of their quarry. Rumple presumed it must be the boy racers from the car park. Out of sheer nosiness he used his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop on their conversation. It seemed the reprobates in question were headed out of the city with the local police force giving chase. A germ of an idea took root in Rumple’s mind. Would it be so bad if he gave a helping hand?

“Are you listening to me” Belle’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Sorry.. I was just..”

“Thinking of using magic. I know that look Rumple. Why?”

“I want to help them” he’d learned the hard way about not telling his wife the truth “they got our son to safety”

“Okay.. but there’s no magic here so how can you do that?”

“I don’t need magic as such. Just the dagger” he tapped his jacket where the blade lay hidden “You take Gideon back to the room, he’s had enough excitement for one day. I promise to tell you everything when I’m done”

Belle wanted to argue, but she’d learned some hard lessons during their relationship as well so she simply nodded and did as he asked. It wouldn’t stop her from worrying though.

Rumple waited till she was out of sight then found a bench to sit on set far enough back into the gardens he wouldn’t be disturbed. He didn’t need long. He took the dagger from his jacket, closing his eyes, reaching into the very depths of his soul to give the darkness a prod.

“What can I do for you Dearie”

“Would you like a trip out?”

“Ooh lovely! Where are we going?”

“Not me. You”

“Put your foot down Heller! The cops are gaining on us”

“I’m going as fast as this heap will go. If you wanted faster you shouldda got a car with an actual engine in it instead of a hair dryer!”

“Just get us out of here and onto the main highway” Hades growled

“Hello Dearies!”

The two men shot round to see the weirdest looking man.. Was it a man? sitting on the back seat. He had wild hair, green skin and reptilian eyes.

“What the f… shit!” Heller swerved the car, across the road, to avoid rear ending the vehicle in front then back again to miss an oncoming truck. Horns blared and language flew from the other drivers in their wake.

“I don’t think much of your driving skills” the imp huffed. Waving a clawed hand he took control of the car bumping it up onto the pavement, driving straight into a large overgrown hedge. Heller and Hades made to get out but the Dark One was too quick, a snap of his fingers sent both of them to sleep. Finally he took a small pouch from his waistcoat pocket, emptying the contents – some of the more exotic mushrooms the Enchanted Forest had to offer – over the back seat then disappeared.

Weaver had just got back to his car when the phone rang again. He frowned as the officer related the details of the arrest to him.

“A what in the car? A green skinned imp… mushrooms? That explains a lot. We’re on our way. Thank you Officer Humbert”

“Say what now..?” laughed Rogers “Oh my..”

Weaver grinned “Come on Captain Hook, we’ll wrap this up and go raise a glass to our little green friend”

“Less of the little if you don’t mind Detective”

Weaver looked round in surprise “Did you hear that?”

Worry started to gnaw it’s way from the pit of Belle’s stomach to the forefront of her mind. Almost an hour had passed since they’d left Rumple in the gardens to do who knew what using means she probably wouldn’t approve of. Gideon was sound asleep on the sofa bed, clutching Bear tightly.

Picking up her phone and putting it back down again did nothing to make it ring. Unable to settle she decided to take the towels left on the bed by housekeeping and stack them in the bathroom. In order of size. Anything to distract herself.

She had just finished reorganising the pile into a pyramid when she thought she heard something. There was a faint knocking sound coming from outside the room. She walked quickly to the door and put her ear to it

“Belle.. Belle it’s me. I can’t.. I can’t get in”

“Rumple! Hang on.. just hang on!”

She turned the lock, pulled open the door only to have her husband almost fall on top of her. He looked very pale.

“What on earth happened? Rumple? Rumple! Are you okay?”

She manoeuvred him to the bed, sitting him down before he fell again.

“So tired Belle, need to sleep..”

“I’ll get you a glass of water and then help you into..” A snore cut off the rest of the sentence. “Bed” she sighed.

At least he was there and in one piece she told herself. So much for this fun family weekend. She supposed she should get him undressed even if the sheer number of clothes he had on meant that would be no easy task. Certainly there were more agreeable circumstances to peel off the layers one by one.

Rumple wasn’t the largest of men but in such a deep sleep he was a dead weight. It took her almost twenty five minutes to complete the task. “Why” she muttered as she put his suit back in it’s bag “can you not wear jeans and a shirt? I bet it doesn’t take that detective’s wife half an hour to get his clothes off”

With her husband a little more comfy, Belle decided a glass of wine was in order. A glint of metal caught her eye, the dagger was lying on the bed next to it’s owner, almost winking at her. Before she could stop herself the blade was in her hands “Dark One I summon thee” she whispered.

Rumple turned on his side and snored even louder.

“Y’know Dearie” a familiar voice trilled behind her “of all the humans I’ve been attached to over the centuries, your husband is easily the most charming”

Belle couldn’t help but snigger “Will he be okay?”

A green skinned hand touched her shoulder “He’ll be fine. Promise”

“What did you two get up to?”

The Dark One giggled “Well Dearie, I got to drive a car, catch some rather pathetic miscreants and I may have left some of those mushrooms from the forest that you were told never to touch as a memento”

“Sounds like fun”

“Oh it was” he grinned “Now I must be going and you Dearie need to get some sleep” he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Belle felt the tingle of magic, she was now dressed in her nightie, all the lights except Gideon’s small bedside lamp had been turned off and the bed covers turned down. Rumple was underneath them. Belle couldn’t help but giggle when she realised his underwear was now on the floor. Snuggled up against his back Belle soon started to drift off.

“Love you”

“Love you too Mrs Gold”

#Rumbelle Fic #a monthly rumbelling #OUAT

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emperorsfoot · 4 years

Link

In this chapter, Entrapta and Hordak board the Monstron in preparation for their journey back to Etheria. (With a few stopped added to the itinerary so Hordak can maintain control of his Bother’s Empire.)

And then, Skeletor finally makes an appearance.

Hope you enjoy!

...

The Imperial docking bays were a whirlwind of activity. It seemed like too much was going on, and, at the same time, nothing was happening at all.

Imperial guards, both clone trooper and enlisted blocked off more than half of the ship docks. Anything within half a kilometer of the Princess Entrapta’s shuttle was shut down. Merchants and pilots could not get to their own ships. Ships awaiting clearance could not land. To those on the outside, it seemed like the world was put on pause. On hold, and frozen while their leaders dithered around doing nothing.

Inside the perimeter of guards, it was organized chaos as servants loaded, not only Princess Entrapta’s shuttle, but an Imperial freighter as well. Baggage belonging to the Princess, the Ladies of her party, Imperial Prince Hec-Tor, and his son went into the shuttle. As well as tanks of fresh water, food stuffs, and sanitary supplies. Into the freighter went the Empires first down payment of supplies and materials for Entrapta’s research.

Administrative assistants stood on either side of the loading gangways checking off crates as they were hauled on. Making sure this went on this ship, no that goes on that ship. Where is the Prince’s arm cannon? Has anyone seen the Princess’ back-up tool kit?

While all that was going on at the space docks, back at the Imperial palace, Prince Hec-Tor was meeting with his lieutenants.

The plan was for the Prince and his son to ride with the Princess in her shuttle up to Monstron, Prince Hec-Tor’s flagship, the twin of the Velvet Glove. Entrapta’s shuttle would then dock with Monstron and they would take the Prince’s ship the rest of the way to Etheria.

Except, Hec-Tor was adding a few stops to the agenda.

“We will stop in the Krytis system to address the uprising in the mines.” He said, walking circles around Mantenna and Grizzlor as they took notes on their own personal datapads. Visuals of the flight plan, its detours, troop accompaniments, and so on were displayed on a screen behind him. “If necessary, we will leave a contingent of our own clone troopers there to maintain order. Then we will go to Denebria and take back the base on the Nordor moon.”

Grizzlor’s stylus danced wildly over his datapad, taking notes and making lists. Working out the logistics of not one, but two military strikes during their journey to Etheria.

Mantenna raised a hand. “Your Highness, are you sure this is how you want to spend you honeymoon?”

Hec-Tor frowned at him.

“I just-“ The Rebrunk Nuru faltered under that critical gaze. “You only just got married. Don’t you, I donno… spend time getting to know your new spouse instead of going off to battle.”

“Keeping this Empire together and stable is far more important that my learning what flavor of carbonated beverage Entrapta favors.” The Prince reminded his lieutenants.

Grizzlor held his stylus to his lips, feigning deliberating over the military logistics. His large paw hiding the smile of a silent laugh behind his hand. Prince Hec-Tor might not know his wife’s favorite flavor, but he did at least know that she only drank fizzy drinks, and that was information no one told him. He just noticed it on his own.

…

Things did not finally calm down until the royal couple and all their attendants were aboard Monstron.

Entrapta’s shuttle docking in the main hangar bay, the exterior blast doors sealing shut behind them. The hatch to Entrapta’s shuttle was opened with a hiss of equalizing pressure and the gangplank lowered.

Rows upon rows of clone troopers greeted them. All arranged in disciplined formations, standing at parade rest. They snapped to attention when Prince Hec-Tor and Princess Entrapta exited the shuttle. A satisfying display of military pageantry.

Behind him, Hec-Tor’s pointed ear picked up a snickered remark from Catra, “Cute action figures. They’ve got the full set.”

Admiral Callix was commander of the Monstron when the Prince was not aboard, and he stepped forward to greet Hec-Tor and his new wife, and cede control of the ship to him.

Callix was not a clone. Clones lacked the independent thinking necessary to fill any leadership position higher than a sergeant. Any officer of rank in the Imperial military was an enlisted alien that had proved themselves and risen through the ranks. Callix was a Stoneman from planet Quarry. Very few beings in the military were taller than Hec-Tor and Horde Prime, but Stonemen grew big and Callix towered over Hec-Tor. A mountain next to a tree.

“Your Highness, congratulations on your recent nuptials.” He said. “And to you, Princess, I welcome you to-“

He was cut off when Entrapta rose up on her hair, a tape measure inexplicably appearing from out of nowhere. “Ooh! You’re a Stoneman, right?” She asked excitedly. “I’ve read about you. You don’t usually leave Quarry. I never thought I’d get to meet one of you up close before.”

Moving on her hair, she drifted around the Admiral. Using her tape measure to gauge the circumference of his arm, the width of his shoulders, the length of his chin.

Callix was a military man. He was disciplined. He held his composure. That did not mean he wasn’t confused or uneasy. “Your Highness?” He looked to Hec-Tor for help. Or, at the very least, an explanation.

“Princess Entrapta is keenly curious.” He tried to sooth the Admiral. “About everything.” Then, to Entrapta, “Perhaps we should let the Admiral go for now. I’m sure he has work to do. There will be time to invade his privacy once we are in hyperspace.”

It was the ‘invade his privacy’ remark that made Entrapta stop. It was something she struggled with. Not exactly knowing what was and was not a boundary unless explicitly stated in words. As Entrapta told him very early on, she did not understand body language or subtle social cues. She needed to be told when her attentions were an ‘invasion’.

Entrapta clapped her hair together excitedly. “I’d love to see the engines as you charge up the hyperdrive. How long is the turn around time between powering up the drive and actually making the jump to hyperspace? With all the technology of the Empire, I would imagine very fast, but my research has also told me that it takes longer for larger vessels and this is one of the largest ships in the universe!”

Callix looked concerned again, turning his attention back to the Prince for guidance.

“Entrapta is an Imperial Princess and my wife.” He informed the Admiral. “She is to have free reign of the ship. All decks, all chambers –except private personnel quarters, of course. If her inquiries or explorations raise any concerns, you are to bring them to me directly.”

“Yes, sir.” Callix nodded.

Entrapta twirled on her hair excitedly. She was gonna learn so much about the Empire’s capital ships and technology! Monstron was one of the most advanced ships in the universe, second only to the Velvet Glove. And Hec-Tor had just given her permission to do whatever she wanted! (So long as she didn’t barge into anyone’s bedroom.) He probably didn’t want her taking apart vital systems. But there was still so much a person could learn without taking things apart first.

She wrapped her hair around Hec-Tor in an enthusiastic hug. Just her hair. Not her arms or her body. “This is gonna be so great!”

Behind them a loud squawk issued from the shuttle and Imp flew out. Sailed circles around the hanger –he’d never been inside a war ship before, he’d never left the Imperial Palace- then came to land on his father’s shoulder.

“My son is not to have free reign of the ship.” Hec-Tor informed the Admiral. “He is to be accompanied by an adult at all times, and if you see him unaccompanied, he is to be brought to me immediately.”

Imp crawled down his father’s arm enough that he could be in the older man’s line of sight when he Signed, ‘But, why?’

“A spaceship is not a play place.” He informed the boy. “You cannot carry on here as you carried on at the Palace.”

He did not want his son trying to climb into one of the ship’s ventilation ducts and getting stuck.

Imp gave a forlorn little trill.

Entrapta wrapped a tendril of hair around him. “I’m an adult. I can accompany you if you wanna explore the ship.”

He gave a more optimistic noise, then looked sideways at his father. He did say Imp had to be accompanied by an adult at all times. He didn’t say who that adult could or could not be, or where he could or could not go. Imp really, really liked Dad’s new wife. She was crafty. Exactly his kind of crafty. Entrapta was easily becoming Imp’s new favorite adult.

Hec-Tor cast a disapproving frown at both of them.

“Oh, unclench.” Entrapta smiled at him. “I was already gonna explore the ship anyway, and Imp and I seem to get along okay. It wouldn’t be an inconvenience for me, and I can keep an eye on him –even if I’m looking at something else. I’m good at multi-tasking.”

“No vents.” Hec-Tor declared firmly.

Entrapta smiled at him. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Hec-Tor made an ambiguous throat noise. He set the terms and the boundaries and Entrpata found a way to work within them. Still giving Imp a variation of ‘free reign’ of the ship without violating any of his stipulations. Imp would always be with an adult, and Entrapta would keep the child out of the ship’s ventilation system. She would adhere to the literal letter of his rules without breaking them and still give Imp what he wanted. She was smart. Smart and crafty.

“Yes.” He groaned. “But remember that Imp must take medications three times a day and they must be taken with food. He is to report to the galley or one of my personal staff to be served. If he misses even one done, you both will lose privileges.”

Imp whined.

Entrapta nodded. “Understood.”

Then they both scampered off together to explore the ship.

Hec-Tor groaned again.

Callix only remained standing still. “I’ve been told children often have a difficult time accepting a step-parent, but Prince Imp seems quite taken with the Princess Entrapta.”

“Imp would be taken with anyone in a position to let him get away with half the things he tries to pull.” Hec-Tor told the other man. Then cleared his throat. These were not the things one confided in a military subordinate. “Take me to the bridge. As soon as the Princess’ shuttle is unloaded and her party is settled, we will make the jump to lightspeed. The Krytis system will be first.”

…

Krytis was a prison colony first and a mining operation second.

That meant it was very difficult to sneak into, and even more difficult to smuggle weapons into. But Evil-Lyn was a master sorceress and clever to boot and she found a way.

After that, it really did not take much to motivate the prisoners of Krytis to rise up and overthrow their wardens. Not every inmate and prisoner of Krytis was a rapist or a murderer. Most were political prisoners, deserters, or defectors. ‘Decent’ people who presented one challenge or another to the Empire or the Imperial family and ‘disappeared’ for it. It really did not take much, after furnishing them with weapons and promising some magical backup, to convince them to revolt.

That was over a week ago by now, and the Empire was yet to retaliate.

“Good work, Lyn.” Her colleague praised over a video screen. His face covered by a hood so that it was hard to make out his features. The only she visitible was a bone-white chin, and the lower pallet of exposed teeth. No lips or flesh to hide them.

“We experienced only a little resistance at first, then when no backup from the empire came, they all just laid down their arms and surrendered.” Evil-Lyn was telling him.

Her hooded partner nodded. “Prince Hec-Tor is the one who really runs the Empire. With him distracted by his wedding, no orders to retaliate would have been sent. But now that that’s over he will retaliate, and with force. You should leave Krytis right away. I am almost done here in Denebria. We’ll rendezvous at Snake Mountain on Eternia.”

“Understood.” Nodded Evil-Lyn. Then hesitated. Then asked anyway. “After we get back to Snake Mountain do you wanna talk? About the Prince, I mean, and the fact that he’s… remarried.”

The one on the other end was silent a beat longer than Lyn felt was necessary.

Then, “We will need to discuss how this marriage will affect the Imperial military and our own plans. Dryl is an industrial arms manufacture and Princess Entrapta is the mind behind it. Our missions might become more complicated in the future because of this.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Lyn shot back. “I mean, how do you feel?”

“Nothing.” The hooded figure assured her. “I feel nothing. It is absurd to think that Horde Prime would let him remain a widower this long. It was a waste of resources. Hec-Tor would have had to remarry eventually. Horde Prime was just holding out until he could get the best price possible for his brother’s hand. And look, he got the most powerful weapons manufacture in the universe. My opinion does not matter.”

Evil-Lyn smirked. He let something slip. “But you do have an opinion.”

If that bare, bone-white chin and teeth still have flesh and muscle on it, he would have frowned. Instead, the jaw just clenched. “Get off Krytis before Hec-Tor rains fire down on you from space. I’ll see you at Snake Mountain, and I don’t want to be asked about my ‘feelings’ again.”

He ended the transmission.

…

On the other end of the transmission, half a galaxy away, in the Denebria system, Skeletor leaned back on what passed for a throne on the Nordor base. He reached a hand under the collar of his hood and pulled out a chain. A plain, unassuming metal chain, with a plain, unadorned silver ring hanging from it.

Skeletor held the ring in his hand. A plane band. Utilitarian. Silver, because the one who gave it to him felt the gray metal complemented his naturally blue skin better than gold would have. And he was right. The silver had looked very good on his hand, for many years.

But that was a lifetime ago. Skeletor was a different man back then.

He thought about throwing the ring away more than once. It was a hold out from another life. One he left behind and shoulder hold any sway over him anymore. But, each time he tried, something always held him back. Some small voice reminding him, you never know. It might come in handy some time. You never know. Remember: the ring has a twin somewhere out in the universe. On the hand of the second most powerful man in the Empire.

Well, it wouldn’t be on his hand anymore. Prince Hec-Tor would have a new ring now. A new ring to match his new spouse.

Skeletor should throw it away.

He should.

He didn’t need it.

It wasn’t relevant anymore.

He unclipped the chain from around his neck. Holding the ring out in front of him. He could just drop it on the floor and one of the mutants of Nordor would find it and could claim it as their own. It was silver. Who would pass up the chance to claim a precious metal as their own? There might even be a fun fight over it. Or, he could get up and toss it in the garbage compactor. To be squished and compressed in with all the rest of the base’s waste before it was jettisoned into space.

No. Not that. Not the garbage.

Skeletor should throw the ring away. But no method for disposing of the item seemed appropriate to him.

He would just keep it until a solution presented itself.

That was all. That was why he was re-clasping the chain back around his neck and tucking the ring back under his hood. He did not have an appropriate method of disposal. That was it. There was no other reason.

Skeletor stood from the throne.

He needed to get moving too. After Hec-Tor finished with Krytis, Denebria and Nordor would be his next stop. Skeletor had to be gone before then.

He was not ready to meet with Hec-Tor skull to face.

#hordak #entrapta #skeletor #entrapdak #entrapta/hordak #hordak/skeletor #keldor #hec-tor kur #motu #she-ra #he-man #spop #fan ficiotn #ao3 #RenkonNairu

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snowbellewells · 5 years

Text

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Chapter Four

I really can’t apologize enough for the long wait between chapters here. There all sorts of plausible excuses, but I’ve basically just fallen behind with starting back to school and getting into the teaching routine again. Hopefully, I won’t keep you waiting on this story so long again, and that you will still enjoy what I’ve cooked up this time around...

Also, I still don’t think it quite needs an M rating, but fair warning, Emma and Killian do get up to a bit of mischief on a stakeout...

Thanks again to @branlovestowrite for the gorgeous story banner; I continue to just love it and smile every time I add it to the chapter post. And to @cssns for inspiring so many wonderful stories and such a fun community outlet. I’m so glad it gave my little werewolf story an outlet and a reason for me to finally get down to business and commit to it the page!

~chapter four: sinister stirrings, signs of life

Gold did not allow his accomplice’s taunt to hang in the air for long; instead, speculation lit his serpentine eyes with cunning curiosity. “And just what is your price, Morgana? What is it that a powerful witch like you cannot simply conjure for yourself with ease?”

“I seek vengeance,” she bit out, tone icy cold with the fierce utterance. “For my father’s life, for my mother’s pain… and what I have lost to that ingrate King… Arthur of Camelot.” She spat the famed appellation, which most spoke in reverence, with a venom that momentarily surprised even the Dark One.

A knowing, secretive smile crept over his sharp face; no other words necessary for him to understand what drove her. He had after all seen the quest for revenge bring many a man and woman to his door, willing to take his wretched deals whatever the cost, and then meet their doom, or at least soul’s ruin. He and the would-have-been Duchess of Cornwall had much in common, and always had. Both believed the world to have slighted them, and both plotting, scheming, grasping every bit of what they felt was their due wherever they could. Perhaps she would grow a bit too desperate, and he could then be certain of the upper hand in their arrangement. He would simply watch and wait to see.

Morgana, on the other hand, was not idle, even as she finally handed the contained hat over to Gold and began to move around his shop with mild interest as he examined the token ravenously. Just as her former mentor sensed her fervent desire and impatience, the seething rage pushing her forward, she could also read his extreme confidence, his discounting of the worthy mind and abilities she had cultivated since the time he had known her well. He thought she would be easy to manipulate; powerful enough to provide the assistance he needed, but not a true threat to his own mastery of the exchange.

He misjudged both her magical strength - and her loyalty. She had learned that no one could be trusted but herself. Though she was willing to side with him while it proved beneficial, she would not sacrifice her own goal, nor confuse a healthy respect with true devotion. Rumplestiltskin foolishly believed her indebted to him, simply because he had discovered where to summon the hat from Merlin’s safekeeping. That mattered little when she was the one who had retrieved it; she was the one he had needed to complete his task. Their purposes were not truthfully as aligned as he thought, yet she felt no qualms at playing along until it was too late for even the Dark One himself to stop her or ruin her plans. He saw her as a willing and able pawn, and she would let him do so for the time being. As long as he gave her the hat as promised when he was done, and she could increase her power, take it back to Camelot, usurp Arthur, and gain her revenge, she cared little how Gold’s plan worked out. His power would be the first she would harness for her own devices - his and all the other Dark Ones who had come before - once the time was right.

“That seems only fair,” Rumplestiltskin spoke in his slick, indulgent tones that might fool someone who didn’t know him as well as Morgana did. Though neither fully trusted the other - nor any beyond themselves - the sorceror before her did seem near tittering with subdued malevolent glee. He really was an imp to his core, delighting in the fall of those who took might and control by vicious means, even if that downfall was not of his own making. “King Uther, Arthur’s father, did indeed wrong your family greatly.”

“I know that,” she snapped, eyes burning as they swung to his in sudden anger. “You needn’t recount the injustices! I remember them well.” Her fine, white hands clenched and unclenched, as her deceptively thin shoulders heaved. She was practically seething from every pore.

Unfazed, the Dark One stepped nearer, cradling his precious talisman in one hand as he wagged his forefinger at her teasingly. She wanted to snap the digit at its joint, but instead held her tongue stonily. “Easy there, Dearie,” Gold chided in his infuriating manner of jest. “Flying off the handle like that can lead to dangerous mistakes.” He winked at her before turning to leave, clearly unconcerned with her alone in his shop to wreck it if the desire took her.

Morgana’s voice rang out quickly, before he could vanish in a puff of his magic, stopping him with the sort of ringing command he couldn’t ignore. “Midnight, a week from now, when the moon is at its fullest… If you wish for my help, you will bring the Sorceror’s Hat to the lakeside when the lunar orbit reaches the zenith. We will perform the ceremony, and then the hat will be mine once it has served its purpose for you. Do we have an accord?”

“Certainly, certainly,” Gold chimed, and though his tone was soft and sibilant, Morgana could hear the eagerness, the urgency for his full freedom and command of his power running beneath. She wasn’t the only one whose need for retribution had them chomping at the bit.

All that remained, she considered saying as the bell tinkled after Rumplestiltskin’s exit, was to see who would allow their quest to be their undoing. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, she vanished from the spot as well in her own column of cobalt blue smoke.

~~***~~***~~***~~

Once again nighttime darkness reigned over the quiet streets of Storybrooke. The main street, lined with storefronts, the Sheriff’s station, and the cheerily butter-yellow Town Hall, was so still and calm by 9:30 that one might think the place either deserted or inhabited entirely by senior citizens, Emma thought with a wry shake of her head and exhaled breath as she sat watching the scene before them from her usual work parking space. Apparently, fairy tale characters exiled in the “real world” adhered to a similar early bird schedule. She was in the more roomy back seat of her Bug, not expecting to see much of anything that would require her to pull out quickly, and needing to sit somewhat turned in the seat to keep her eyes on Gold’s shop, a Thermos of hot chocolate on hand to warm her insides as the night grew more chilled, and Killian cuddled against her side assuringly, something in his lupine makeup keeping him always a few degrees warmer than the average human.

Reading her mild amusement as easily as he seemed to do with all her changes in mood and emotion, Killian leaned in to whisper against her ear, his scruffy whiskers raking deliciously across her cheek and neck. “What is it, Swan? Did I miss something humorous?”

Emma shook her head with a chuckle, swiveling a bit to look at his quirked brow and curious face more clearly. His crystalline, sea-blue eyes twinkled as if he could already anticipate her answer, and in that moment, Emma genuinely wanted nothing more than to kiss him senseless, plant little pecks all over his forehead and cheeks and chin, just for sitting there with her, for always being by her side, and for being her ridiculous, handsome, dependable companion, whatever new surprise or danger came their way. Though she managed to hold back the outburst of affection, she still couldn’t help the frisson of awareness that ran through her veins at his nearness, even while proceeding to answer his simple question. “No, nothing funny really, just thinking how there truly is no night life here. It’s not even ten o’clock, and there’s no one out on the street!”

“Aye,” Killian nodded conversationally in agreement. “You’ve a point there. Any port town in which the Jolly ever docked - regardless of how small or remote - was more lively than our little town currently.”

Both fell silent once more, eyes unavoidably drawn to the entrance of the darkened pawn shop, looking deceptively closed and shuttered,but nevertheless the reason they were sitting on the street in a stakeout and wondering whether or not they should trust the seeming peace of the night around them. “Exactly,” she smirked at his comment, against her better judgement leaning closer as she did. She could feel that the spark always burning between them, fanned by both recent interrupted assignations, was still simmering hotly, barely banked by more pressing concerns, and knew that the right sort of look or touch might well be all that was needed to set it aflame once more. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to resist.

Killian reacted just as she had hoped, his response to her invitation almost immediate, hand balancing him on the seat beside her as he leaned even closer than they had already been seated, his breath warming her forehead as he exhaled and his hook tracing a purposeful path up her jean-clad thigh. “Looking for a bit more excitement, are you Darling?” he questioned devilishly, his lips and tongue pronouncing each sound and syllable of the words in a manner that left tingles racing up and down her spine.

The intentional progress of his metal appendage swung inward to trace along her pants inseam, ever closer to the goal, and Emma swallowed hard, irrationally embarrassed that he might already feel the heat radiating from her center and how her pulse seemed to be throbbing there noticeably. It was all she could do not to start shedding layers and crawl into his lap. She could only nod eagerly for several tensely heated seconds before finally affirming breathily. “What if I am, Pirate? Are you gonna do something about it?”

Killian’s heavy, dark eyebrows practically danced across his forehead merrily, as if she’d given him a present with her challenge. The tip of his wicked tongue poked from between his full, tempting lips before tracing along the lower one as if he had just glimpsed a meal her wanted to devour. “Oh, you know I will, Emma. Don’t you even doubt it.”

In the next instant, he seemed to pounce, his warm weight pressing her back against the leather upholstery of the Bug’s rear bench seat, as that tongue swept into her mouth to lay claim. The curved edge of his hook found its goal at last, putting delicious cool pressure against her still-clothed heated core and making her moan shamelessly into his mouth in return.

“Oh...Ki - Killian!... Please…. Ummm…” she raised her hips almost unconsciously, bucking toward his questing hook, and the added stimulation of his hand, which had now managed to slip under her shirt, up her side to her heaving chest. Emma forgot all about Gold, the newcomer, and why they were outside in her car at all, between the way his hand and hook were making her feel and his lips suddenly veering from her own to wander along her jaw back to the sensitive spot behind her ear, driving her even more out of her mind. She would swear under oath that she shouldn’t be held responsible when her desperately clutching hands pulled so hard at his shirt in her haste to touch him too and hold onto something to ground herself that she heard the sound of ripping fabric over her own gasp and whimper of need.

Not in the least disturbed by wardrobe damage - he had lost count of how many shirts and pants his wolf had destroyed in transformation ages ago - Killian merely chuckled with indulgent pride at the effect he was clearly having on his usually cool and collected girlfriend. It wasn’t lost on him that Emma rarely allowed herself to let go of control so completely. Splayed before him openly, eyes half-closed in bliss, Emma was offering him the trust and vulnerability few others received from her, and it awed him all the more beyond what her beauty had already accomplished. Not wanting the swell of emotion to derail them, now that they had at last managed to preserve a long enough moment alone, he bent his head back to the task before him. He nearly lost a handful of hair when a few seconds later he caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and bit down playfully, not expecting the force with which Emma grasped the dark strands between her fingers as she keened breathlessly.

The wicked smile that quirked his lips as he murmured into her neck, “Feeling lively enough now?” was entirely unavoidable, if he did say so himself. For a moment, he allowed his mind to gloat inwardly as her pants seemed to indicate his Swan incapable of speech from his pleasurable ministrations.

Letting down one’s guard around Emma was never wise, however, as he was soon letting out an indecently loud and tormented groan of his own satisfaction. Somehow, while he had been occupied with tracing patterns over her collarbone with teeth and tongue, she had worked a clever hand into his tight jeans and dealt him more than enough taste of his own medicine.

“Ah! Wh- Swan…” he choked, his own head falling forward to rest on her shoulder as she squeezed and pumped delicately in the limited space she had to work with. “Mmm, love...easy does it,” he finally managed to grind out after riding the sensation for a minute. “Much more of that and you’ll bring the night to completion before I can finish what I started.”

Reluctantly his bold lass did release him and pull back slightly, one sculpted eyebrow arched in what could only be the beguilingly feminine equivalent of the look he had given her so many times before. “Can’t have that now, can we?” she teased gently, stroking along his stomach muscles, which quivered in response to her touch and practically smirking up at him.

“Certainly not, Love. It would be poor form indeed to leave a lady such as yourself unsatisfied.” He licked his lips salaciously, but meant every word, and the way she threw back her head with a wholehearted guffaw of laughter made him certain she knew it too.

“Well then, Captain,” she purred, pulling him in once more by the charms that hung around his neck. “Let’s see you make good on your word.”

Pressing forward with a deep, almost feral sounding growl, part his own desire and part his wolf within howling to break free, he lay her back unresistingly on the seat beneath them, spread out before him like a delectable banquet feast.

When they surfaced some time later, bare and skin glistening with sweat from their enjoyable activities, they had already missed both clouds of magic and the reappearance outside the shop of their new female nemesis - the reason they had been waiting in the car in the first place. Still, even if they had been less than purposeful, as they rested together, sated and entwined in each other’s arms, neither Emma nor Killian could bring themselves to mind.

~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~

After checking in with Emma and Killian at the station - and gathering a much clearer picture of how his deputy and her beau were progressing as a couple than he had needed or wished to have - making sure they had been alerted about the strange woman he had seen at daybreak, Graham was more than anxious to see his own lady love once more. Firstly, because he longed to be at her side, to see her happy, every second of each day that it was reasonably possible; a truly jarring sensation for a man who had up until that point led a quiet, solitary life and thought himself reasonably satisfied, but a sensation he had warmed to and treasured all the same. And secondly, knowing that she carried their pup - a child conceived of their love for each other - in her womb made the normal protective urges he already struggled to manage at normal levels exponentially stronger. To think that Gold still lurked around town and must wish to win - or coerce or steal - Belle back to himself worried Graham enough on a daily basis, but the attack on Granny and this obviously magical stranger’s appearance had him all the more on edge. No, Belle might argue that she was quite alright and could take care of herself, but he intended to stick quite close by whenever his duties as Sheriff allowed, and he might just speak to David and Snow about seeing if someone could stay nearby, just in case, when he could not. He would simply bear her annoyance and exasperation with his fussing as best he could; it was much better than seeing any harm come to her.

Letting his mind return to that morning, Graham thought back on how, after sighting the cloaked woman by the lake, he had hastened back to his cabin with extra speed, shifting on the porch back into his lanky human form so as to let himself in with ease and check on Belle where he had left her sleeping. The sight of her peaceful in repose beneath the moss-green cotton sheets upon the bed, her auburn hair spread out across the pillow, and the softest little purr of a snore escaping her pretty lips, had made him loathe to wake her.

Shirtless and barefoot, clad only in the grey sweatpants he slipped on for decency once human again, he padded across the smooth hardwood floor simply watching her sleep for a few seconds longer with an adoring smile on his face. He had never seen her look so serene, stunning in her sweet fragility, her petite beauty and kind nature concealing what he knew to be a backbone of strongest steel. Still, however much he hated to rouse her from much-needed rest, she had made him promise to take her with him back into town this morning. She was not content to hide out and wait passively until all was safe. And even if it was only researching information that might help prepare the rest of them for the storm they all knew was coming, or finding any accounts which might might better inform the two of them on the little one they were awaiting, she would not settle for anything less than doing her part, in her library, surrounded and aided by her beloved books.

Perching lightly on the mattress near her hip, Graham reached out a large, calloused hand, with a gentleness he hadn’t even known he possessed (having never known a tender touch until this tiny spitfire of a woman came into his life) lifted a loose strand of hair from her velvet-soft cheek and tucked it behind her ear. As he had known it would, even such a light touch had her stirring, beginning to stretch and slowly wake.

Now that his duties for the day were mostly complete, it eased his soul to once more slip into the cool, enveloping shadows and hushed, welcoming space of the town library. He could feel the taunt hunch of his shoulders relax within seconds of entering his love’s hallowed space, at the sound of Belle’s voice farther within the stacks, directing someone he could not yet see. Perhaps one of their friends had already had the same thoughts he did and undertaken to keep her company.

Venturing on silent feet, long accustomed to moving swiftly and without sound on the forest floors and castle courtyards of their old world, Graham stepped into one of the larger conference rooms toward the back of the library, one appointed with a large study table and numerous chairs for large groups. He leaned against the doorframe there, happy just to watch and enjoy the comfort and relief of once more being in her presence and seeing her in her element.

The Hatter in their world - Jefferson, Graham believed he went by here, was the first other person he saw. He recalled with a wince that this man had also been painfully manipulated by Regina - both in the Enchanted Forest past and their small town present. He knew with the same guilt-ridden certainty that he had realized Belle could have been freed from her imprisonment sooner if he had been quicker to awaken and act, that he had probably passed Jefferson on the steps of the mayoral mansion or in the frigid labyrinths of the Town Hall, but both had been too ashamed at being ensnared or indebted, or in some way under the command of the Evil Queen, to look up and meet the other’s eyes, to see a fellow sufferer or brother-in-arms. If nothing else, he reminded himself pushing off the doorjamb and moving into the well-lit and enlivened conversation humming around him, at least now he was beginning to see just how many friends there truly were here, as well as foes. Good people who could be relied upon and were hoping for the chance to regain their lives, just as much as he and Belle were.

His adorable librarian was chatting happily with both Jefferson’s daughter Grace and Henry, who were all too content with darting back and forth from the stacks for any book Belle could think of to request - all of them trying to keep her seated and off her feet. Coming to her side eagerly, Graham leaned over to kiss her cheek, even as she turned her head upward to greet him with a welcoming grin.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispered in her ear, letting his scruff tickle along her skin slightly, making her giggle and tuck her chin toward her chest.

Still, she caught his hand and squeezed it back affectionately, holding on and pulling it down to rest his palm over her still-flat stomach.

His brow furrowed, confused, even as she beamed at him to wait and be patient. It was much to early for him to be feeling any sort of movement from their little one; Belle wasn’t even showing. He was more than a little puzzled, and a bit concerned if the truth were told, but willing to humor her, and so stilled dutifully, waiting for he knew not what.

Then, abruptly, a definite jolt jarred his large hand from where it rested against Belle’s stomach. Eyes widening almost comically as they darted up to her face, he felt as much as saw Belle suck in an excited breath as she nodded her head in enthusiastic affirmation.

“Wait, but, it can’t be… It’s too soon…” he sputtered. “Are you sure? Should we take you to Whale? Are you hurting at all, Darling?”

The flow of words was almost more than she had ever heard her gentle huntsman say at once, but no more than she expected. Still, she tried to implore him in her gaze and the steady pressure on his hand to calm, that she had learned some things about her particular pregnancy and she would fill him in, but she wasn’t in pain, and she wasn’t concerned or frightened - though she had known he would be, for her. Guiding his hand still, she brought it to her lips to gently kiss the back of it, hoping to soothe him. She merely wanted to share this miracle with this precious man, the depth of her joy causing tears to well in her eyes.

They were still for several grounding moments, and when she lifted her gaze to meet Graham’s once more, she saw that same welling of love and astonishment in his eyes as well.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @spartanguard @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @darkcolinodonorgasm

#cssns 19 #cs au mc #cs werewolf au #face to face in the broad daylight #chapter four #graham x belle

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