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whiteheartlight · 3 years

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Wrote a bit of an intro for my au where the Toa Mata are made into Toa Hagah for different Makuta. don't know if I'll go anywhere with it but figured I'd type it up. Krika-centric. enjoy

In the time before time...

That's how Matoran start their stories, right?

Gathered friends, listen again. In the time before time...

What? What was there? A Great Spirit? A Toa?

All their stories sound the same, in his opinion. Toa-heroes and Matoran-heroes and the Great Spirit watching, benevolent, over all of it.

Those are not how his stories go. In the time before time... he wonders when the Great Spirit stopped watching. It must have been recently, he supposes, but then again he thinks this bitterness has been festering in Teridax's heart for a long time.

The stories, after all, are not about Makuta. The stories are about Toa. Or at least the ones that Matoran tell.

Then again, who really gives a fuck?

(All of them do. That's the big secret. Krika, for all he speaks of unknowable destinies, is pretty sure that this could all have been avoided if Teridax was a little bit less glory-hungry. But ah, well. What does he know?)

“He won't really try anything,” he tells Antroz, on a day where they are out on the sea, and the ship rocks beneath their steady feet, and they know each other as brothers. “He wouldn't really challenge Miserix or whisper about plots against the Great Spirit. He's all talk.”

Antroz just looks at him. His eyes are deeply crimson. Fire is life and destruction. He shrugs.

“I think he will, Krika,” Antroz answers. “I think he will, in fact, try something.”

That is all it takes. Hearing it from Antroz's mouth, Krika knows it to be true.

“Well,” he says. “I guess we start finding our place in the new order.”

Antroz snorts.

“What?” says Krika.

“By the Spirits,” says Antroz, with a voice that says he is well aware of his own irony. “I tell you a coup is coming and your first instinct is to start re-assessing your political standing?”

“Well, are you going to do anything about it?” Krika returns, standing straighter, turning his whole body towards him.

Antroz says nothing. He is devouring a pear. It turns grey beneath his claws. He drops it overboard and watches it fall into the water and disappear from view.

“Yes, a new order is coming,” says Krika, turning back to the horizon. “But both Teridax and Miserix are foes with whom I have no desire to be involved. I'll keep my mouth shut, and if you're wise, you'll do the same. All I want is to be left on my island to build my Rahi in piece. I do not wish to be either a pawn to Teridax or protective fodder for Miserix's already over-developed sense of power. Let them fight things out on their own. We will still be standing, my brother, as we always have been.”

Antroz squints out at the sun. “And if it doesn't end up like that?”

“How else could it end up?”

Antroz shrugs again.

“I just think,” he says, “that someday – well. Someday we might be called upon to fight battles we would not otherwise have fought. And on that day, Krika, I wonder if you won't wish you had chosen a side you believed in.”

Krika gazes at him. Antroz look out at the sky. The birds are circling overhead.

“You're so full of shit,” says Krika abruptly, and it makes Antroz laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes and turns around to pick up another pear, digging his claws into the ripe body of the fruit and letting the juice run out. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, what's this about Teridax finding those Toa Mata that are meant to guard the Spirit?” adds Antroz, almost thoughtlessly.

“Don't know,” answers Krika, shrugging his shoulders. “Apparently they're waiting for the day he needs them. But you know Teridax. Probably has his own plans.”

“Yeah,” laughs Antroz. “Yeah, probably does. Oh, look, Tarakava! They're new in this part of the world – that's how you know they're a hardy species, migrating to new places...”

Those short sentences are all they speak of the Toa Mata at that time and, what's more, all they bother to think of them. They don't much care. They were not, then, enemies of the Great Spirit. And Kopaka, Tahu, Gali, Lewa, Onua, and Pohatu – the names meant nothing to them.

But they would.

That's how the stories go, right? That's what they're about. Toa.

Krika will watch it happen. He does not intend, at the time, to be a part of the story.

The rope of his destiny, however, is already closing around his white throat.

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

Krika hears the news of Miserix's death two weeks later. He knows then that he was wrong. Teridax was not all bark and no bite. Teridax bit.

Krika says nothing. Miserix is not the only Makuta who dies that week. He suspects that the ones who join him are the ones who asked too loudly: “Who did this?”

He knows. They all know.

But these are days of survival for the Makuta, and Krika is a survivor, so he keeps his goddamn mouth shut, and rises quietly through the ranks of Teridax's Brotherhood.

And when the calls for better protection come, Teridax offers one solution to his five closest allies, and suddenly those names - Tahu, Gali, Onua, Lewa, Pohatu, and Kopaka - mean something.

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

“I don't want one,” says Krika, and, at the time, he expects that to be the end of the matter.

Antroz looks up at him. His eyes are irritated. Krika crosses his arms over his chest and looks right back.

“Krika,” Antroz begins.

“It's stupid,” says Krika. “What the hell do I need a single Toa for? Maybe it made sense when Miserix and Teridax took teams. At least they might be able to actually take out a couple threats to them - not that Miserix's little team did him any good in the end. But one lone Toa? It's not going to be able to protect me from anything I can't already protect myself from.”

“Krika, I'm quite busy here,” says Antroz, turning back to his latest creation. “Can't you just do what you're told for once? You should be pleased. My pair is already entertaining. They spar all day and the red one yells every time he speaks.”

“I don't want one,” repeats Krika, feeling the small, feathery protrusions on the back of his spine raise with irritation. “I don't need one. It's asinine. I'm going home to my work and I wish to be left alone.”

Antroz looks up at him again. In these days, he is a sight to behold. Clean red colors with sweeping black lines, his mask painted with soft, noble markings, his body strong and tall and sure of itself.

Back in these days, they have nothing to fear. The present is thousands of years away. Today, they are young, and the Swamp has not changed them. And hatred and cruelty and despair – well. These are things that have only begun to change them.

Antroz turns back to his Rahi, stroking its stomach as he takes a sample from its side. “Krika, let's not pretend to be fools. Not you and I. We both know that this is not about protection. They are status symbols. You are rising in the ranks of the Makuta, my brother. Now that you have inherited your new country, you are almost as powerful and respected as I. And so, while Miserix and Teridax take six each for themselves, I take two, and you, like some of our other siblings – ”

“Fools the lot of them,” snarls Krika.

“Take one,” says Antroz coolly. “Take one like you were told. Because with each Toa we make into a Hagah, the more the Matoran come to see us as greater than the Toa. We are becoming, Krika, the most powerful species in creation. And these Toa are special. That is why Teridax had them dug from the ocean. Take one. Just the one. Command a legend and watch as the Matoran transfer their love for the Toa to their love for you.”

“I don't care,” says Krika, “about the love of the goddamn Matoran.”

“Then you are not playing the game right today, brother,” answers Antroz quietly, tinkering with his Rahi, his eyes already distracted by his passion for his creation. “That's not like you. Don't be foolish. Go. I've had enough of you... and I am technically in charge of you, aren't I, Krika?”

He digs his claws into the wall for a second, aching to say more. Aching to protest. He doesn't take orders from anyone but Miserix himself. Or Teridax now, he supposes.

But Antroz is right.

Krika is someone who is learning how to play these games right.

So he does what he always does: he takes what comes at him and he lies in wait.

Just for now. Just for now. He lies in wait.

“Fine,” he says, stalking out of the room. “But I don't want one. I'm not going to be nice to it.”

“Noted,” answers Antroz, already forgetting what they were talking about as he loses himself in his experimentation and building. Ah, he is a creature of passion in these days, and he does not know the taste of real fear.

Krika wanders into the other room, where silver canisters await him in silence, still as dead things.

He brushes condensation from the surface of the one closest at hand. The sleeping face of a Toa Mata looks back at him.

No, check that.

Not a Toa Mata. Not now. Not anymore.

“Looks like you and I are stuck with each other,” murmurs Krika, releasing the lid of the tomb where this Toa has slept for thousands of years, disturbed only by Teridax's command. “Wake up, then, Toa Hagah.”

And Mata Kopaka opens his eyes.

#krika #white light writes #makuta #bionicle

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

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Being Fake Soulmates with Dr. Chilton (Part 2)

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader | The Good Place crossover

1,200 words

It had been a few weeks since the start of your afterlife and your introduction to your pompous, preening soulmate, Dr. Frederick Chilton.

At first, you were sure you were soulmates in the way Michael Myers and Laurie Strode were soulmates: destined to torment each other through all of eternity. He was exactly the type of entitled asshole you always wished you had the guts the stand up to, and the thought of playing house with him made your skin crawl.

After catching him in a vulnerable moment, however, you began to have sympathy for the lonely psychiatrist. His prickly exterior and well-guarded emotions drove everyone away, but once you got beneath that, he turned out to be an affectionate, needy snuggler. There was a void of love in his life on Earth that he was starving to fill, and maybe it wasn’t so bad that you were destined by the universe to fill it.

It still drove you crazy when he asked Janet for Beluga caviar and white truffles (which you knew he secretly hated), and it frustrated him that you dressed comfortably (when Janet could create the most glamorous outfits you could imagine), but you had settled into a mutually fond relationship.

This was paradise, after all. He was your soulmate. If you trusted him, coaxed him to open up, then you would understand each other as only two perfect halves of a whole could.

“What a bunch of judgmental ash-holes,” you muttered, elbow linked with his as you returned from a ten-course dinner party at the Al-Jamil residence—the only home even bigger than Dr. Chilton’s.

“Get to know your neighbors, Michael said. What a nightmare,” replied Chilton with biting sarcasm. Complaining about other residents in the neighborhood turned out to be the one hobby you had in common, so you indulged in it ruthlessly. It wasn’t mean; it was a bonding exercise.

“I know this is the ‘good place’ but does everyone here have to be so… obsequious?”

“Arrogant is what they were,” Chilton corrected. “All because of, what was it, a hundred acres of rainforest?”

“A hundred thousand acres. Didn’t you hear, they saved at least two dozen species from extinction. And they had the nerve to correct me on what spoon to use!”

The doctor’s lightly-stubbled face twitched at that. The nature of his scowl shifted. “You could have at least made an effort to learn table etiquette.”

Your arm stiffened, considering pulling out of his. “You could have been on my side.”

“You were using the dessert spoon for—”

“Sorry I embarrass you!” Your arm yanked away from his elbow and crossed your chest. “Just your soulmate here.”

The night sky was lit by a dazzling show of stars glowing in a sea of deep blues and purples that swayed in the cool (never cold) breeze like a Van Gogh painting come to life. You stood outside the magnificent door to the Chilton Estate, face heating as you reconsidered why you agreed to live with a spoiled buffoon.

His cat-like green eyes evaluated you just as critically. “Why is my soulmate so…?”

Insulting comments perched on his tongue about your clothing, your manners, your overall lack of high-society finickiness, but faltered.

You did embarrass him, it was true, but not as much as he was embarrassed by himself. He was in a foul mood because the neighbors were better than him in every way. Dr. Chilton prided himself on his grooming, yet Tahini Al-Jamil made him look like a pauper. He longed to be admired and respected among his peers, but with peers like these—the best of the best of humanity—he was nothing. Without achievement of note. Dinner had been a sharp reminder of that.

If his soulmate were glamorous, they could elevate his status instead of dragging him down. He had hoped, when he was introduced to you, for a prize he could show off. It was an ego-crushing disappointment when he discovered his soulmate was so… common. But you gave him something better than status—something he never had before. Whenever his facade slipped and he couldn’t keep himself from falling apart, you didn’t attack him for being weak. You sat with him, and held his hand, and reassured him. He didn’t have to be perfect when he was with you, didn’t have to perform the role of the dignified doctor who squashed down his emotions—the role assigned and enforced since childhood by parents who did not tolerate failure.

Pursuing esteem and glory only brought about his early death. Perhaps you were the universe’s way of showing him a better path: the person who saw him and loved him beneath the mask.

His tongue flicked over the roof of his mouth as he let go of the next cruel syllable without uttering it.

The sculpted wood doors of the mansion unlocked, recognizing their owner’s arrival. Using the sound as an interruption from the brewing spat, Chilton put a soft hand on your lower back and guided you inside to privacy. You scowled as he turned, shoes clicking on the marble floors, to press a kiss to your forehead.

“...so stunning?” he finished his thought.

You grumbled your opinion as to the likelihood that that was what he had meant to say, but he gently grasped your chin and turned your pout toward him.

“I should not have let them talk down to you.” Because you make me complete, he meant to say. Because you deserve better. “As if they have any right to speak down to anyone” he scoffed instead. “A standard single-pocket napkin fold? Tasteless. They could not be bothered with a proper fleur-de-lis? At least a double-diamond.”

His voice had taken on that particularly snobby affect it slipped into when he wanted to drive home his superiority—that almost-British accent meant to sound classy. It wasn’t quite an apology, but he was using his snobbery in your defense rather than against you now, and you felt the warmth of his intent.

You rested your head against his shirt collar, where his shoulder joined the pulsing heat of his neck, hands finding his hips reflexively. His arms quickly followed your lead, surrounding you.

“I could have stood up for myself, too,” you murmured. “I already felt like garbage for thinking I made a difference by recycling when Tahani was out saving half the Amazon basin with her vast fortune.”

He held you silently. Though he was a merciless gossip and often said too much, Chilton was careful with his words. When he was not sure what to say, he preferred to say nothing, so he was often tight-lipped when you were upset. He wished it were different—that he could give words of encouragement to magically make you feel better—but empathy did not come naturally to him. Should he open his mouth, he was inclined toward giving helpful advice or psychoanalysis, neither of which were comforting. It was one of many reasons he spent his life alone.

So he simply held you, stroking your back as your humid breath warmed his neck. He understood how you felt, at least. Small. Insignificant. Humiliated.

It was as if that dinner party was perfectly designed to strike a nerve in both of you.

#Frederick Chilton x reader #Frederick Chilton #My writing

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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17 chosen and 20 lunar for Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Lieutenants Log, stardate 10015, Joseph Stern recording

We’ve finally arrived at an agreement with the Aquariads, the species who control this moon. They will allow our research team unfettered access to the planet, but at an odd price. They requested one of our crew agree to be married off to a high ranking member of their governing council.

I suspect, but cannot prove, that this is not a desirable being to be married to. He’s a revered seer, and yet they’re willing to couple him to a human and not one of their own? Suspicious.

Myself and the other single members of the crew were all given extensive questionnaires on everything from our sexual preferences to our daily habits. It took me a good hour and a half to finish it.

After a full earth day of waiting, we received word that chief astrobotanist Duck Newton was the chosen human. I have no idea how this happened, as Duck has little tolerance for what he views as “woo-woo” things like precognition. But he was chosen all the same.

Because this is Duck, he grumbled a bit, but cheered up when he learned he would only be required to stay with his new husband for three weeks before joining us on our field word, and that we can send him specimens for identification and research. If we decide Aquaria is the planet we’ve been looking for and establish more permanent research stations here, Duck will be expected to spend at least a few days a month with the seer. Mama made it clear that if the idea was truly not something he could agree to, she would call the deal off and we could try another approach. Duck said that wouldn’t be necessary, and that he could think of far worse things they could have asked of us.

We deposit him at the seers home tomorrow. After that, we begin our exploration of Aquaria, fourth moon of the plant Oceana and (hopefully) the home of the antidote we’ve been searching for.

Joseph Stern, Lieutenant on the spaceship Amnesty, signing off.

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

Duck waves to the skiff as it pulls away, his planetside bag slung over his shoulder. There’s only one way to go; down the single stone levee, decorated with beautiful tiles, to the massive mansion at the end.

It reminds him of the photos of Venice he’s seen in old National Geographics, beautiful buildings floating atop a planet of water. He knows Aquaria has islands, but the majority of it’s cities are on or near the water because most of its residents live beneath the waves. They remind Duck of mermaids, with scaled tails and fins giving way to humanoid upper bodies and faces. As far as creatures to get politically married off to, he could be staring down worse.

There’s still the problem of not knowing why this mer is off by himself and without a partner. Or, as becomes obvious once Duck is inside, any company at all. The other high-ranking aquariads they’ve met come with miles of attendants; here there’s only the high, curved ceilings and rippling water. Maybe the guy is shy? Or maybe he’s a dick? Or just real fucking scary to look at?

As he walks further into the house, he notices the tiled walls are covered in striking murals that, when coupled with the odd half-light allowed in by the green glass windows, makes him feel as though he’s wandering through a dream. The pools and canals criss-cross the floor, and really the ground is more water than concrete, the fact he’s able to walk at all is a concession to the fact some aquariads evolved to be land dwelling.

A splash makes him turn, and in the pool to his right a black fin cuts the water. He steels himself to not insult the alien he’s now legally attached to. The figure rises from the water, setting his arms on the edge of the stony floor and Duck steps back as a wide, toothy smile appears in an angular face.

“Hello, Duck Newton.” His tail is the same black as his fin, and his silver hair is tucked behind ears of the same color, which Duck has learned can fan out as a way of communicating.

“Uh, hi. You must be-”

“Indrid Cold, yes. Apologies, a peril of my profession is that I will always be a little bit ahead.”

“Right. So, uh, guess we’re gonna be seein a lot of each other the next couple of weeks.” He aims for a joking, nonchalant tone.

“Yes, as we’re married.” He cocks his head, confused, then grins brighter, “Oh, oh I see, you are attempting levity because this is all very awkward. I, ah, I appreciate that. Here, let me show you where you’ll be staying” Indrid pushes off the wall, swimming gracefully on his back as Duck follows him down the hall. The center of the house has more skylights, allowing him to see that his host’s fins aren’t pure black; small silver and white dots are scattered across it. He wonders if he could find constellations in them.

“Here we are.” Indrid gestures to a room, one where the only water is in the form of two deep blue half-circles on the left and right walls. The center of the room is a large bed, linens gleaming whites and pale greens, and the skylight nestles against a chandelier of finely detailed rosey glass.

“Holy shit.” Duck sets his bag down on a trunk near the door.

“Do you like it?” A flash of yellow up Indrid’s fin, echoed in the dots on his tail.

“I mean, anythin looks ritzy after months on a spaceship but” he turns, smiles, “yeah, I do. Thanks for giving me such nice digs.”

“You are most welcome. Now, this room is designed to give guests privacy. See that red panel on the wall? If you press it, it opens the pool on that side up to the rest of the house, allowing myself or servants to come in and help you.”

“So you do have staff.”

“They’re, ah, more like errand folk. None live here.” Indrid clears his throat, “I can show you the rest of the house, although if you need to sleep I can let you be. I am, ah, not entirely clear on where your internal clock sits now.”

“Aquaria’s days are about four days longer than earth’s, so I ain’t too thrown off. Happy to see more of the place.”

Indrid nods, and Duck follows him out of the bedroom. Most of the other rooms they pass are sparse squares of walkways and still water, under which lies the parts of the house Indrid uses. When they reach Indrid’s quarters, he spots what looks to be an artists’ studio under the clear blue water.

“You paint?” He kneels and peers down for a better look, Indrid bobbing nearby.

“Indeed. Art helps me make sense of my visions, and I enjoy it besides. In fact, all the murals you see in this house are my doing. There are even more under water.”

“Damn, that’s fuckin incredible. If I get my SCUBA gear rigged up, maybe I can get a tour?”

“Scu--oh, yes, an underwater breathing apparatus. We have a much smaller device that can help you breathe and sea down here” he dips his head at the pool, “unfortunately, the one I commissioned for you will not arrive until close to the end of your stay. They, ah, did not give me much time to prepare. Hence the lack of many comforts I might otherwise give, as well as places for you to and I to talk, eat or do, ah, other activities together.” The yellow intermittently flashing up his fin gives way to a burst of pink.

Oh, right. Duck pulls up his infopad (given a generous waterproofing treatment prior to his leaving Amnesty) and opens the contract he signed.

“Yeah. About that. Says here they expect us to, uh, ‘consummate’ the marriage.”

“I’m aware” Indrid’s voice creeps up.

“Do you...wanna do that now?” He spins a finger in the water.

“I, ah, I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, seems like we could just get it outta the way, rather than have the fact we gotta fuck someone we didn’t pick hangin over our heads?”

“This...this is not at all how I wanted this to go.”

Duck looks up and immediately wishes he could reverse time; Indrid looks genuinely hurt, ears flicked back like a scolded dog.

“Duck I, ah, well, you did not choose me, that is true. But I chose you.”

“Well, fuck.” He sits down with a heavy sigh, “figured some big wigs used those surveys to pick me out. Guess what they say about assumin things is true.”

“.....”

“It makes an ass outta you and me?”

Indrid blinks, then snickers, “Your humor is part of why I chose you. It is very bad, but also extremely good.”

“Glad you think so. Pretty sure Mama was ready to blow me out the airlock for some of the ones I made on the way here.” He knows he’s dodging the conversation they should be having, but how the fuck is he supposed to respond when an alien mermaid tells him he picked him to be his husband?

Indrid swims over so he can rest his arms and chin on the stone, glancing shyly up at Duck as he says, “I suppose I also made an ass of myself, as you would say, by assuming you would not see this as an obligation.”

“I mean, even if you chose me, don’t this feel like an obligation to you?”

“No. For me, it is a reminder that most of my kind are too afraid of me to even give me a chance to court them. And that the council thinks I will get into too much trouble without someone to distract me now and then, and decides the company I am worthy of is an alien explorer with no interest in me.”

“I mean, the only reason we agreed to this is because there might be a plant on Aquaria that can treat the illness runnin rampant back home. So at least it’s for a good cause?”

Indrid flicks his ears, red running up his fin, “What you are doing is noble. What I am doing is being used as a way to keep your exploration team in line.”

Duck winces, “Fuck, I’m, uh, I’m just gonna stop talkin now.”

For an agonizing five minutes they sit there in silence, contemplating their situation and stealing glances at each other. Duck always tried to do the right thing, tried to live an honest life and treat the people in it with respect. He’s been kind and polite to beings up and down the galaxy. He can extend some of that to his own husband, can’t he?

“Indrid?”

The alien raises his head.

“Can we start over?”

“Yes. But I do not see how-”

Duck holds out his hand, “Name’s Duck. Thanks for invitin me in and lookin after me the few weeks.”

Indrid’s smile widens as he understands the game, and he takes the human’s hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I am Indrid, seer to the court of Aquaria, and your anxious husband in spite of the now-changing, much more pleasant futures.”

They finish their tour, the humid air less stifling in the wake of their confessions. Indrid shows him the kitchen, the sitting room, and the gardens which, to Duck’s delight, are as much above the water as below.

After that, Indrid excuses himself to attend to seer duties and Duck goes back to his room to unpack. As he’s putting away his toothbrush and razor near a large, elaborate tub carved from golden stone, one of Indrid’s admissions from earlier floats through his mind, bobbing there like a buoy until he gets a chance to ask it.

When they’re in the gardens, Duck taking notes as Indrid dives and surfaces with new things to show him, the human slips his feet into the water and says, “Indrid? You said my offerin to fuck you wasn’t what you wanted. What, uh, what did you want?”

The alien blinks, slowly, pink and teal flashing in his tail, “It is a bit silly in retrospect, but since I knew we would not have time for a proper human marriage courtship, I thought I could mimic the process leading to a one night stand; that way you would be romanced in a manner that made you both comfortable with me and the concept of sex with a relative stranger.”

Duck chuckles, “Always wild to find out how human stuff gets interpreted by the rest of the galaxy. How’d you even come up with what you were gonna do?”

Indrid crosses his arms, mock affronted, “I will have you know I have seen a great deal of human media, courtesy of our minister of defense.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck shifts onto his stomach, sends a small splash Indrid’s way, “what was this night gonna involve, then?”

“Food, dim and therefore, apparently, romantic lighting, dancing to sensual music, and then hopefully some kissing.” The pink in his tail intensifies, “and then working out exactly how to have sex human.”

The mixture of enthusiasm and being utterly out of his element charms Duck to no end; not to mention it’s the most thought someone’s put into a hook-up with him in the last three years.

“Seems to me you got the gist of it. Though I really wanna know what you picked out for ‘sensual music.’”

A playful glint enters Indrid’s glowing eyes, “I will show you, but we must go through the whole evening, otherwise it will seem like a disjointed choice. With, ah, with the understanding that you are not obligated to kiss me at the end.

“You got a deal.”

“Wonderful” Indrid claps his hands together, “wait right here.”

Indrid disappears in a whoosh of black and silver. When he returns, he hoists six opaque domes onto the floor in front of Duck, “I initially planned to eat in the sitting room, but you like this room much better, so we can have dinner here.” With that, he double-taps the top of each dome, revealing a confusing buffet.

“Uh, are those french fries?”

“Yes. You are from the United States of America, and so I chose foods that would make you feel at home.” Indrid points to each plate in turn, “french fries, steak, a turkey with cranberries, lobster, macaroni with cheese, and an apple pie.”

The pie is covered with an odd, yellow meringue, the turkey is the size of a quail, and the black shell suggests this is not a kind of lobster he’s eaten before, but Duck can’t stop smiling.

“Also I took care to be sure none of the necessary substitutions were poisonous to you.”

“Thanks, Indrid.” He means it; in their travels they’ve learned it’s not only humans who think everyone lives and eats exactly the way they do.

Everything except the french fries tastes strange but he finds the meal, like it’s orchestrator, intriguing in it’s oddity. Indrid brings two cool, white bottles from below, offers Duck tastes of each. One is like the celery soda he drank on a dare, the other like root beer if it wasn’t gross. He keeps the second one next to him as the meal progresses, Indrid asking him all kinds of questions about botany and himself. When dinner is over, Indrid guides him two rooms over, grinning excitedly.

“I will start the music; one moment.”

A few seconds after he dives, a chrome cylinder descends from the ceiling and music fills the air.

Ninety-nine red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert!

There's something here from somewhere else!

He giggles, sits down so it’s easier to call, “Indrid? Not sure you got the right song bud.”

A silver-haired head pops up, “Not romantic?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmmm” He lifts a small, white rectangle and the song changes.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a blowin' reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

“N-not quite” The laugh is stronger now.

“Drat. How about….”

I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way

Indrid looks hopefully at him.

“Ain’t what I’d call sensual, but you’d hear it at the kind of place you’d pick up a date.”

The alien beams, starts shifting back and forth to the beat, “shall we dance?”

Duck blushes, pretends he doesn’t know why, “Uh, probably should have said this earlier, but I ain’t much of a dancer.”

Indrid swims to him, stopping close enough that Duck can see the lines on his face that reveal they’re close in age, “That’s alright. Sometimes conversing while having a drink is acceptable behavior, correct?”

“Yeah.” Duck doesn’t bother to hide how intently he’s watching as Indrid dives, his form elegant and ethereal beneath the water.

They sit sipping a hard cider that tastes of papaya and flowers instead of apples until the three other moons glow bright in the skylight. Duck yawns, and excuses himself for the night.

“Thanks for a great evenin, Indrid.”

“You are most welcome. A pity I could not make the music work.”

He’s here for another three weeks at least. And Indrid is floating through the darkening water like a dream he’s tempted to chase.

“Guess you’ll just have to try again.” Duck winks.

Indrid’s ears frill slightly and he flashes bright purple, “Yes, my dear husband, I suppose I will.”

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

Duck’s routine is not the one he usually has while docked on a planet. Every day for the last week, he wakes up, joins Indrid for a leisurely swim, works on his research, and then spends his evening with a weirdly cute alien trying to accurately recreate the earth dating experience for him.

The second night, he asked if Indrid would bring him some of his favorites for their next meal. The steamed coconut crab was a hit. The mantis-squid served still swimming, less so. From then on, when Indrid put in his food orders to the cooks at the main court, it was for a mixture of earth and Aquariad dishes, each one leading him or Indrid to share an anecdote from their time on their home planet.

For the last two nights, he’s lifted the partitions on the pools in his room so Indrid can talk with him until neither of them can keep their eyes open. He wonders if it would be rude to ask him to stay, to sleep in such a small space just so he could be the first thing Duck sees when he wakes up.

There must be floating beds he could put in Indrid’s room, or maybe a hammock he could hang in the garden.

Duck now understands that Indrid’s powers make him politically valuable, but also mean his fellow residents of the lunar city see him as dangerous, as knowing things they’d rather keep secret. Duck understands, especially if their only time encountering the seer is when he glides his formidable, dark body from the depths of his inner sanctum. But all he can see is his Indrid, awkward and well-meaning, whose fear of Duck disliking him has given way to genuine affection. His Indrid, who now pulls himself up onto the stones so they can sit shoulder to shoulder after breakfast or before dinner, whose tail Duck’s fingers beg to caress.

His Indrid who is, at this moment, continuing his losing battle with earth music.

“How about this?”

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

“Oh fuck no” Duck guffaws, “anything but him, ‘Drid, he’s a boner killer if there ever was one.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad, but I will be speaking to Vincent about his human music suggestions.”

“For the love of god, turn it off.” Duck flails for the remote.

Indrid sticks out his tongue, “Very well, but I am this close to pulling you down here and seeing if you can do any better.”

“You wouldn’t dare” Duck is still laughing, eyes closing as he does, which means he gets only a splash of warning before he’s yanked into the pool. He comes up giggling and spluttering, “now, is that any way to treat your husband?”

Indrid’s laugh is a siren song, “No, I suppose not.” The music clicks off as Indrid steadies him by curving his tail behind his legs, “how should I treat you instead?”

Duck drapes his arms over Indrid’s shoulders, “You been treatin me pretty damn well, dunkin me aside.”

A flicker of pink and yellow as Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “And if I wanted to be even better?”

“I, uh, I mean if you wanted to we could tryYYYYohfuck” he hunches forward as Indrid’s tail drags across his dick. The clothing on Aquaria is thin, so he can feel the cool scales tease his skin.

“Oh, oh dear, apologies, I was only trying to embrace you further, I forgot yours do not stay concealed until they’re needed.”

“You, you keep doin that and it’s gonna be needed real quick.”

“Oh?” red eyes narrow wickedly, “does my sweet husband need attending to?” Another drag of his tail, much more deliberate, and Duck grinds his hips in reply.

“Only if you want to.”

“I do, so very badly.” Indrid nuzzles his nose, “may I take a little while to acquaint myself with your wonderful body?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tugs his shirt off, throwing it onto the land and then giving his shorts the same treatment.

“Ohhhhhhyes.” Indrid purrs, fins and tails shimmering purple and gold. Then he sinks down, swimming in a slow, tight circle around the human. Pleased chirps and trills bubble up to Duck’s ears. Cool fingers play along his legs and belly, eventually finding his dick and offering an experimental stroke.

“Fuck” he groans, and Indrid does it again, kissing his navel as both hands rub and tease his dick and folds. Indrid is clearly experimenting, maybe even using his visions to guide him, and Duck eagerness to get off succumbs to just how fucking hot it is to have a partner this enrapt by his body, to have them explore it like some awe-inspiring landscape.

He spreads his hands out and runs them along Indrid’s torso and tail; the scales are just as wonderful under his fingers as he hoped, and he can feel Indrid sigh happily as he pets him.

Then lips close around his dick and he makes a series of undignified noises, digging one hand into Indrid’s hair to encourage him.

“Ohmyfuckinchrist, Indrid, yes, fuck please keep suckin like that.”

Indrid wiggles his whole body in response, happy trill underscored by a firmer suck. Duck can’t get enough of his body beneath his hands, of his mouth on Duck’s skin, and he wonders if someone can black out from how good a blowjob feels.

Indrid’s fin breaks the water and Duck runs an appreciative thumb along the top. Funny, there’s a little depression between it and the membrane of the fin. Curious, he drags his pinky along it.

The alien bursts upwards with a loud chirp of joy, “Ohgoodness, yes, oh that feels nice please do it again.”

“Yeah? My cute, needy husband need me to play with his fins to get off.”

“Not, not technically by my gods does he want you to.”

“Don’t worry darlin, I will--uh, ‘Drid? Is, is that your dick?”

Indrid follows his gaze to the thick, bumpy shaft emerging from his tail, it’s tip crowned with short, searching tendrils.

“Yes. Also an ovipositor, hence those lumps.”

“Holyfuck. Uh, I, I ain’t sure I’m ready for that yet.”

“That’s perfectly alright. Though it does mean my cock is not going into you tonight; I’m not sure I can control my bodily responses enough to avoid ovipositing accidentally.”

“Lots of others things we can do.” Duck bites the tip of one ear, making the other flare out.

“Indeed. I say we start with this.” Indrid’s tail encircles his waist just as Indrid shoves his cock between his thighs.

“Like, like the way you think sugar. Fuuuck, fuck that’s good.” The bumps from the eggs have just the right amount of give as he humps them, Indrid matching his tempo with his thrusts. He keeps his arms around his husbands neck, kissing him furiously. Indrid kisses back with a chirp, gold flashing in his scales, and Duck knows he won’t want to kiss anyone else for a long, long time.

The tip of Indrid’s cock bumps his ass and he groans at what that suggests about it’s size.

“I’m, I’m takin this fuckin perfect thing all the way before I go.” He bucks his hips harder to make his point, “gonna let you fuck me open on it, fill me up, wanna know what it’s like to cum with you inside me.”

“Oh gods” Indrid whimpers, hiding his face in Ducks neck as he squeezes his thighs together.

“And, and you’re gonna be a dutiful fuckin husband and fill me however I say, ain’t you?”

“Yes, yesofcourse, goodness Duck I, I’m-”

“Heh, you like that, mr high and mighty seer likes bein bossed around. Well, lucky you, because now that I know just how fuckin good you are at fuckin me, gonna have you doin it ever, fuckin, day.” He jerks his hips hard, three times, and Indric cums with a cry, cock pulsing as he sinks his teeth into Ducks shoulder. Duck doesn’t let up, chases his orgasm over the bumps and ridges until he nearly whites out with pleasure, clinging to Indrid tighter as his body gives up on supporting him.

After his cock retracts Indrid, still holding Duck up with ease, swims to the button that orders a cleaning cycle on the pool and deposits the human back on the stone.

“I dearly hope your team finds what you need on this planet so that I may see you beyond these few weeks.”

“Sex was that good?” Duck teases, petting Indrid’s hair as he lays his head in his lap.

“No. Or, well, yes, but more than that you are so, so very wonderful. I wish to get to know you more, to show you even more of my world and my skill in bed.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “I hope so too.”

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

Communication log between leader of Amnesty Mission at Astrobotanist Duck Newton.

Mama: Got some promising leads. Will be back to pick you up in three days.

Duck: Glad to hear it. But take your time, no need to rush only my account.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills #alien au #terato

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Bad Enough | Commander Fox x Reader

This sassy fucker needed a rival. A hot rival who he can't stand, but he also wants writhing underneath him. 😉

Word count: 3,530

Warnings: NSFW, smut, hate sex, arguing, dirty talk, choking, Fox is a smug bitch, brat taming?

•••

The people of Coruscant were safe, until the war started. Your job had been safe too until the Coruscant Guard was created. Now your security force was at risk of being disbanded. It was all because of him, Commander Fox.

The Commander in charge of the Coruscant Guard and your number one enemy. You weren't fond of the idea of another protective force on Coruscant when yours was perfectly fine. Your police force was made of hardworking Coruscanti citizens of numerous different species and gender orientations, all who were devoted to their job. You were willing to work with the new Guard in the beginning, that was before Commander Fox destroyed all hope of that. Dismissing your offers to work together and disregarding the existence of your police force. You despised him and he despised you. The feeling was mutual. You actually got along with his men rather well, greeting them whenever you'd see them out patrolling, and they were always nice to you back. But their leader made your blood boil. Thank the maker your offices were in different buildings, though said buildings weren't as far apart as you would like.

You both worked directly with the Chancellor and he trusted you both, calling upon each of your forces equally. Although you hated when he called you both into his office to discuss the state of the planet's inhabitants. Which is exactly the predicament you found yourself in now. Standing a few feet away from your rival in front of the Chancellor's desk. You stood as tall and straight as you could with your hands behind your back, expression stern but compliant. You were glad Fox had his helmet on as he stood not far from you.

The thing that made your relationship with Fox worse was that, under the obnoxious red and white helmet, was a very attractive man. You would never admit that though, sometimes you were mad at your own mind for letting those thoughts occupy your brain. You were just thankful when he wore his helmet and you hoped he didn’t know the effect he had on you. Other than to make you fume, that is.

“I had hoped you would both join together in bringing this citizen to justice, he is becoming a danger to the people,” the Chancellor informed. “He has been seen going between each of your separate sectors. I believe the best way to catch him would be to join forces on this assignment.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear.

“My men will get right on it,” Fox said. You weren’t going to be outdone. “My force will have him in prison by tonight,” you assured. You could see Fox turn to look at you out of the corner of your eye. “He was last seen in my sector,” Fox said, keeping his voice level. You turned your head, looking into the black line that was his vision. “So?” You said flatly, “Doesn’t mean I cannot step foot there. Besides, I’ve dealt with this suspect before, I know all his moves. It’ll be easy for me.” Fox clenched his fists, getting angry. “My men can adapt to any situation and they’re faster, we’re far more efficient,” the frustration was clearly evident in his voice now. “Efficient at what exactly?” You snapped, crossing your arms and facing him completely. “Actually completing our assigned missions,” he hissed.

“I’m sure you can work out something, as long as it results in this man being put in a cell,” the chancellor interrupted, “you’re both dismissed.” You and Fox continued to glare at each other until you decided to leave first.

That was the issue of that week, the next was a dispute over who would escort the Chancellor to Naboo, after that it was a fiasco over the infiltration of a shady club run by wanted criminals, then it was the investigation of several robberies in the upper levels, during which you nearly socked Fox right in the face if you hadn’t have been interrupted. Currently, it was a tug of war over a new sector of the lower levels that needed patrolling. The chancellor had sent messages to both you and Fox telling you both to discuss it together, you had a feeling the Chancellor was trying to get you and Fox to get along, it was never going to happen. You immediately moved your officers into the new sector before Fox could do anything about it.

You were sat at your desk looking through files and finishing reports when there was a knock at your door. “Come in.” The door slid open to reveal your only favorite high ranking clone in the entire Guard. “Thire! Good to see you,” you got up from your desk and met him on the other side of it. “Good to see you too, Y/N,” he greeted with a half smile. “What brings you here?” You asked. “Fox wants to speak to you, he asked me to come along.”

You weren’t surprised, but you were annoyed that Fox went as far as to bring Thire with him, knowing you liked the Lieutenant and were more likely to cooperate with him. If that’s what Fox thought, he had another thing coming.

“I’ll speak to him, bring him in,” you said. Thire pressed his comm, “she’ll talk to you, Commander. You can come in.” The door opened again and Fox stepped in only far enough for the door to close behind him. Unfortunately for you he had his helmet off and tucked under one arm. You looked him up and down for a second, why did he have to be so hot! It wasn’t fair, to your womanhood or your reputation.

You were almost mad at the fact that you had had several wet dreams involving the Guard Commander. If he didn’t infuriate you so much you might be tempted to act on it.

“I think I can talk to the Commander alone, Thire. Thank you,” you said. You could see Fox watching your interaction from your peripheral vision. You kissed Thire on the cheek, “Would you mind waiting outside, Thire?” You asked sweetly. The stunned Lieutenant flushed red and subconsciously lifted his hand to where you kissed his cheek. You could see Fox, his face twisted into an angry grimace. “Y-yeah, sure, I’ll uh, I’ll do that,” he stuttered making his way out of the office. Your nice demeanor fell as soon as the door closed.

“What do you want?” You snapped, going to sit back down at your desk. “I want to know why you moved your men into my sector,” he hissed, standing on the other side of your desk. You laughed out loud, “Yours? I recalled the Chancellor’s message mentioning my name in there too,” you turned your attention to your datapad. “I tend to skip over anything with your name in it,” he said. “That would explain it, you missed the important parts then,” you said flatly.

Fox slammed his hand flat on your desk, causing you to look up. “Get your men out of my sector,” he growled, leaning on your desk. Why did he have to growl like that, it wasn’t helping your secret situation. You stood up and leaned forwards on your desk, your face uncomfortably close to his. At your angle you had unknowingly put Fox in the perfect spot to see down your already low cut shirt. He stared at your cleavage for a few seconds before looking back to your face. “I suggest you deal with it, and get out before I find a reason to throw you in prison,” you said sharply. Fox shoved himself off your desk and walked to the door. “This isn’t over, you’ll regret crossing me,” he seethed, putting his helmet on. “Out!” You yelled. You could hear him huff before he exited your office.

A few days later some of your officers informed you that they had been told that your new sector was being taken over by the Coruscant Guard. They had been told that it was issued by the Chancellor but you knew that wasn’t true, the Chancellor would have told you as he usually did. You knew this was Fox just doing it to get back at you. You expected him to do something to get back at you but not something this drastic. The fact that he lied to your men, saying that it was the Chancellor’s orders, was what made you furious. You were thoroughly pissed and decided to confront Fox right then and there while you had enough anger fueled confidence to do so.

He was sitting at his desk looking through his datapad when you burst into his office without warning. “What the kriff is wrong with you?” You snarled, standing in front of his desk with your hands on your hips. He glanced up at you, not looking the slightest bit agitated. “What do you mean?” He asked, returning his attention back to his reports. “You know damn well what I mean, you took over my sector and lied to my men to get what you wanted! All because you wanted to get back at me,” you nearly shouted. He still paid you no mind and kept his eyes on his datapad. “I did warn you,” he stated. “I’m talking to you, can you at least acknowledge that?” You were tired of his disregarding you and wanted his attention so he would know you were serious. “I don’t usually acknowledge minor issues,” he said darkly.

That was it. You clenched your hand into a fist and hit his helmet with as much force as you could. It launched off his desk and hit the wall with a loud bang, that got his attention. He glared at you setting his datapad down, no doubt about to lay into you. “Now, fucking listen to me," you fumed, "I’ve had it with your shit and if you don’t move your troopers out of my area, I’ll go to the Chancellor, and if he doesn’t do anything I’ll go to-”

“You need an attitude adjustment,” Fox cut in, standing up. You were taken aback, “What?” “You need to watch your attitude,” he said again. “Oh, I need to?” “You need to be put in your place, cyare,” Fox said, his voice low. You didn’t know what that word meant but you knew his low tone of voice was making your insides stir deliciously, you tried to ignore it and form a sharp response.

“I bet you’ve never been bossed around before, have you? You’re a spoiled little brat,” Fox voiced. “What did you just call me?” You hissed. “You are, you’re a little brat,” he teased, “a brat who needs the attitude fucked out of her.”

Your tough exterior fell, was there a way he knew about the sexually charged feelings you had for him? You sighed softly, looking at the floor, desperately trying to regain your confidence after being called out. You heard footsteps and saw his boots in front of you. He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilted your head up to look at him.

“You haven’t been fucked good in a long time, huh?” He said smugly. You swatted his hand away from your face. “None of your business,” you snapped, looking away. How did he know all this! “I’m right, aren’t I? I can’t be the only one who feels the sexual tension between us,” he moved closer to you. You were searching like mad for a thread of confidence or stoicism, but you weren’t finding any.

“I hate you,” was all you could muster. “And I hate you,” he responded, “I hate the way I can’t stop thinking about you, I hate how hard you make me all the time, I hate that you’re the only thing I jerk off to, I hate the powerful urge I have to bend you over my desk and fuck you till you’re screaming my name.”

Your breathing sped up with his every word, you had no idea he felt the same way you did. But you couldn’t fall to that level you just couldn’t, you hated him after all, or at least you thought you did. You slapped Fox across the face, trying to keep a shred of sanity when the object of your wet dreams was confessing he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. The look he gave you after was almost scary and you knew immediately that you were in trouble.

“Alright,” was all he said before he brought your lips to his in a bruising kiss. You were stunned out of your mind but kissed back, Fox put a strong hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place. You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed, trying to get him off you, which you weren’t sure you wanted, as you continued to kiss him back. If you weren’t wet before you certainly were now. You could feel your thighs getting sticky, shocks of pleasure going straight to your core from everywhere in your body, your mind screaming no and your cunt screaming yes.

Fox grabbed your resisting hands and slammed you into the wall, pinning your hands above your head and shoving an armored thigh between your legs. You whimpered at the friction on your heat, instinctively beginning to grind against it. He released your lips and stared at you, his dark orbs clouded with lust and frustration, a deadly attractive combination.

“Seems you don’t know what you want, little dove,” he observed, “your mind is telling you no but your sex is telling you yes, isn’t it?” You nodded frantically. Fox moved his thigh away from your legs and you whined. “You gotta tell me what you want, dove. Do you want me to pound that sweet little pussy of yours or do you want me to let you go?”

The small part of your brain that still held sanity was glad he was asking you what you wanted, but you only wanted one thing right now.

You nodded, not wanting to verbally admit that you wanted him, though with the friction on your womanhood gone you were more willing. “You gotta tell me out loud, dove,” Fox said, running his thumb over your bottom lip, his other hand firmly keeping both of yours secured. “I want you,” you said softly. “Say what I said, dove. I need you to be louder, what do you want me to do to you?”

You rolled your eyes, mind finally submitting to him. “Please ruin my pussy, Fox. I need it so badly,” you moaned out. He smirked devilishly, “that’s what I thought.”

He skillfully used one hand to yank your trousers and panties down to your knees, you kicked them off the rest of the way. You suddenly felt very vulnerable in front of the Commander, your legs closing a little. "Now you’re acting all shy, what happened to the loud mouthed little brat I was dealing with earlier?” He mocked. Fox ran his fingers teasingly over your inner thigh and that got you frustrated again. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around Fox’s waist, pulling him flush against you, making him grunt in surprise. The cold, hard material of his armor collided with your wet, warm folds, sending a pleasant sensation through your body.

“How ‘bout you just fuck me already,” you hissed with a challenging smirk. Fox’s expression turned serious again, “There she is.” He took his unoccupied hand and put his middle finger in his mouth, pulling off the glove in one fluid motion. It was one of the sexiest things you had ever seen. He stuck two fingers in your mouth and you greedily sucked on them. Fox watched you intently as you coated his fingers in saliva, audibly sighing when he pulled them out of your mouth. A string of saliva connected his fingers and your mouth, breaking and falling onto your chin and lips when he pulled his fingers far enough away. Your eyes glazed over with hunger and impatience, practically begging him to show you no mercy.

He crushed his lips with yours again, the sloppy clashing of lips and tongue as you both fought for dominance over each other’s mouths. Fox won when he brought his soaked fingers to your core, causing you to moan in his mouth. Electric like shocks going through your stomach as he rubbed your clit tortuously slow, teasing you again. He broke away from your lips and started kissing and sucking on your neck.

“Can you hurry up and get on with it, I have other things I could be doing,” you huffed impatiently. Fox bit onto your skin upon hearing your remark. “Fucking brat,” he seethed, sucking another dark mark into your neck, “you’re a pain in the ass.” You giggled, “ooh, the good kind or bad kind of pain?” You sassed. He growled and thrusted his two teasing fingers knuckle deep into your throbbing pussy. The noise you made was somewhere between a moan and a gasp in pain. He drew back from your neck, prying your legs from his waist and finally releasing your hands only to bring his now free hand to wrap around your neck in a firm hold.

He took a step back to look at you better, “You’re really asking for it with that attitude, aren’t you?” You smirked smugly, your confidence returning finally. “Hard and fast, baby,” you replied with a wink. Fox used his hand to undo the fasteners on his codpiece, maneuvering it until it fell to the floor. “You need help with the rest?” You offered. “Nope,” he answered quickly, stepping in close to you again, “because that’s all that’s coming off, dove.” You gasped, chest rising and falling slowly, turned on even more by the idea of him fucking you in his armor.

He removed his other glove and pulled his blacks down enough to free his hard and aching cock, red, swollen, and leaking precum. You stared unashamedly at his length as it rested on your stomach. He was big, not only long but thick. You reached to touch him but he batted your hand away, hoisting you into his arms and pushing you harder into the wall to make sure you wouldn’t slip. You wrapped your legs around his hips and hung onto his armored shoulders. Fox lined himself up and pushed into you surprisingly slow, a guttural groan emitting from him. You hissed in pain at the stretch until he slid all the way in, moaning out when he nestled deep inside of you. Your breathing was accelerated and your whole body was on fire with pleasure. Fox laid his head on your shoulder trying to ground himself and gain his composure.

“Kriff you’re tight, stars,” he breathed, “feel s’good around me.” You were so dazed with euphoria that you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. “Fox,” you moaned, “please move, please!” He grasped your hip with one hand and placed the other on the back of your neck, pulling you into another heated kiss. He began thrusting, shallowly at first, gaining momentum, going slow but hard. He was teasing again.

"Fox, I swear, if you don't-"

"If I don't what, dove? You want me to go faster, want me to fuck you so hard you can barely walk tomorrow? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes please, Fox please," you whined. You wormed your fingers into his short hair, dragging your nails over his scalp. He growled and picked up his pace, slamming into you. The only thing your mind could process was how much pleasure was coursing through you. You chanted Fox's name like a plea, your moans and cries mixing with his grunts and growls.

You could feel yourself getting close to the edge, your walls contracting against his cock. "I know you're close, dove. Can feel you squeezing me-fuck, you gonna cum around my cock?" He groaned out. You were able to moan out a yes just before he hit that secret spot inside you.

"Fox!" You screamed, "oh Fox, I'm gonna cum!" He took one hand and moved it down to massage your clit, "where do you want me to cum, dove?" "Inside me, Fox. Please," you begged. He groaned, "maker, you're such a dirty little thing." He continued to work your clit with his thumb and then stuck his index finger inside, stroking your upper walls. The extra stretch was all it took. You came hard, clenching down on Fox, white hot pleasure shooting through you. Fox thrusted a few more times before spilling his seed deep within you, moaning at how hard you were clamping down on him, milking him for everything he had.

He made sure not to drop you as you both stilled and waited for your breathing and heart rate to even out. Fox stayed seated within you, he kissed you on the jaw and brought his eyes to yours.

"Do you still hate me?" He asked.

"Ask me again after round two," you replied.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #commander fox #commander fox x reader

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jinkisbelly · 3 years

Text

A Simple Request - 11/?

Pairing: Jongyu

Rating: Pg

w/c: 1.8k

Other Parts can be found a little ways down this [x] Ao3 AFF

Summary: The Fae King is under a lot of pressure to conceive an heir, while given a deadline by the Council he turns to his personal guard and best friend to help him with it

Warnings: Future mpreg

Jonghyun is led down twisty alleyways and between homes. The kingdom this late at night is beautiful and quiet, almost like a dream. Faera is never this quiet. With all the different species living within the capital city, there was always music and sound of bustling life even in the dead of night because of those who were nocturnal. He loses his way as he focuses back on Jinki, not that his limited knowledge of the city's layout would help him that much to begin with. Before he knows it, they stop in front of what entirely looks like a dead-end, dark green, and tightly woven vines rising up to where the two buildings on either side of them curve and connect.

The question he’s about to ask is forgotten when Jinki looks over his shoulder and beams, so beautiful and free in a way Jonghyun knows he hasn’t done since he stepped over the border into his homeland. There’s a tug on his hand, and then they’re stepping towards the thick vines at the end of the alleyway. Jonghyun knows he should be concerned, should be worried, but all he feels is safety as Jinki’s grip on his hand tightens. He trusts Jinki, more than anything, so it’s not difficult to put his well-being in the man’s hands and follow him through without resistance. Jonghyun still squeezes his eyes shut as they’re about to hit the wall of vines, only to gasp as tingles travel over him, and a cool mist falls onto his skin. There’s a sound of water splashing and soft twinkles, and when he finally opens his eyes again, they are no longer in the middle of a great city.

There’s a lagoon with a small waterfall trickling into the blue pool. Wisps flutter across the plush, green surface. Some are landing on big pink and red flower petals, while others float to greet them with quiet tinkles and warm impressions. “What is this place?”

“I made it as a child. This used to be an abandoned fletcher shop.” Even with how absurd such a statement was, Jonghyun could do nothing but believe Jinki. He had seen the man do amazing things, impossible things even. He’s seen him walk through dragon’s fire unharmed and create a flourishing forest on ground completely destroyed by the war. Creating this gorgeous grove as a child was the least of it all. “It was after Saferus hatched for me and my parents ordered Master Wixu to take him from me. Master did so against his wishes. I ran away from my manservant and.. Created this.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to be back.” Jinki finally released his hand, slowly stepping further into the grove. Jonghyun finds himself missing the strength and warmth of the man’s hand in his own the moment it slips away. Jinki’s fingers run over the flowers as he passes them, each growing a bit more as he continues by them. Each step a flower popped up as he lifted his foot and Jonghyun fondly grinned. This place was so attuned to Jinki and his magic. It reminded him of all the times he watched Jinki meditate, only for the plant life around them to go from finally groomed and trimmed, to almost wild as his magic ran away from him. “I agree with Saferus, that it was his magic that allowed me to do this.”

“I don’t know,” Jonghyun raised his eyebrows, holding his hands behind his back when Jinki stopped to look back at him. “I’ve seen you do miraculous things. With and without Saferus near.”

“A keeper is only as strong as their connection is to their dragon.” Jinki gave a little smile before continuing on his way. He disappeared around the corner of a large rock surface for a long moment. When he appeared again he was pushing a large wooden chest in front of himself. His smile was wicked as he straightened and put his hands on his hips. “I knew I left these somewhere around here.”

“These?”

Jinki snapped his fingers and the lock on the chest fell open. When the top was lifted inside blankets and a few throw pillows were visible if only a little old. He picked up the blanket on top, holding it over his loosely crossed arms. “I don’t particularly want to return for a while and I figured comfort would be nice.”

Jinki wasn’t meeting his gaze and before Jonghyun thinks about it completely, he’s crossing the distance between them and resting his hand on the man’s arm. “We can stay here as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.”

-----

Every so often Jonghyun would feel the grass against his skin as he shifted, brushing across his foot or hand, and each time it was soft and cool. Now though, he’s on his side warmly gazing across at Jinki’s beautiful profile. The man’s eyes are closed, but there’s a peace to his expression as his chest slowly rises and falls with his even breaths. Jonghyun felt at that moment he could spend forever looking at him and never truly get tired of it. Suddenly there’s a smile curling on his lips, amusement in Jinki’s voice as he asks, “Yes, Jonghyun?”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t need to,” Slowly Jinki turns, left arm coming up to bend under his head, cheek squishing a little as he settles, “Something on your mind?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jinki slowly raised his eyebrows, “Depends on what ‘it’ is.”

“How you feel, you know,” Jonghyun lowered his gaze from the other man’s eyes, biting his bottom lip for a moment. “About being here, what happened at dinner, and all that.”

“Ah, well. I feel a bit abandoned, like the only family I truly have is Saferus.” Jinki’s leg brushed against his as he shifted a bit, but he was still as he spoke again. “To my parents when I chose Saferus I was turning my back on them and my people. That only worsened when I chose to remain in my duties instead of joining them in their fight against Faera and the Fairies. The sentiment is still felt by veterans who fought in that war. I’m not welcome here.

"Over the years they've reached out with letters, bits of gifts, summons home. At first, I was hurt by what was said during the treaty signing and even as those feelings passed, others filled their void." Jinki let out a deep breath, then another, before speaking again. "They never apologized for their words or how they made me feel since I was just a boy. They told a child to choose between this new destiny and their family, and immediately cut ties with me straight after I made what they believed to be the wrong choice. As silly as it is, I thought I would have made my parents proud with all I've done."

“To me, you’re wrong about one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

He finds Jinki’s right hand resting against the blanket between them and gently grips it. “While I have my sister, you’re the closest person in my life. I’d like to think we’re family by now, Jinki.”

Jinki pulls his hand away, but before the ache of rejection can settle completely in his chest, the man is pushing his fingers into his hair and a kiss is pressed against his forehead. When he speaks his voice is but a whisper, “You’re right.”

Jonghyun finally looks up when Jinki pulls away just a bit, but the hand remains softly intertwined in his hair. He can’t place the expression on the other man’s face, but whatever it is, it makes him feel safe; immensely cared for. Jinki’s eyes are so warm as a smile slowly forms on his lips, and for a moment Jonghyun could see himself falling in love with a man who has a gaze like that. “Your parents might not be proud of you, and sure, there are some elves who believe their leader’s lies, but there are so many people who love you, who have you to thank for them being alive. You saved so many lives. Hell, you’ve saved mine more than I can count. If it’s worth anything, I am proud of you Jinki, always.”

“It’s worth everything.”

Before Jonghyun knows it, he’s being tugged closer, the back of his head cupped with Jinki’s hand. Immediately he wraps his arm around Jinki’s waist, snuggling closer as if pulled by a string. Jinki rumbles quietly as he shifts to hold him better with both arms, chin on the top of Jonghyun’s head. He knows then he’s never felt as warm or safe as when he’s in Jinki’s embrace, and a part of him doesn’t ever want to leave. When Jinki doesn’t try to pull away, he stays, even as sleep finally tugs at his consciousness and he stops fighting it, letting his eyes close.

-----

Jinki wakes up extra warm with something soft brushing against the tip of his nose. The scent as he breathes in is familiar and even with his still half-asleep mind, he presses closer, breathing it in deeply. With a rumble deep in his throat, he relaxes again. There’s a slight movement against him and instinctively he tightened his hold. It takes a long moment for him to realize what, or rather who, he’s holding, but that just makes a smile pull on his lips as he finally opens his eyes.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but from the sun hitting the outside of the vines it’s early morning. There’s a blanket thrown over their intertwined legs. Soon they’d have to head back to prevent a national incident, but that could wait a bit more. Jonghyun was still sleeping and after the past few days, rest was exactly what he needed. If Jinki was honest with himself, he was also a bit selfish. There was something about holding Jonghyun so close that Jinki wanted to cherish. For a few moments, he could pretend he had said those simple words with so much meaning hanging from them, and they had shifted from friends to partners. He knew it could never be, not with their roles and destinies. Even if he ignored all that, there was no way Jonghyun would ever feel the same way about him.

Maybe it was a bit depressing the more he thought about it, cherishing little stolen moments such as this. One day Jonghyun would find someone to love as much as he deserved. Whenever they finally had a child together, he would lose all these little moments, so he’d take what he could. His parents taught him never to refuse one's blessings and he wouldn’t start now. Jonghyun wiggling back into his hold broke his thoughts and all he could do was gently chuckle, affection and fondness bursting into his chest.

Just a few more minutes, that’ll do just fine.

----

#Jongyu #Jonghyun #Onew #shinee #my fic #fae au

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krispy-dream · 3 years

Text

Twice Forgotten, Always Remembered

Title: Twice Forgotten, Always Remembered

Relationships: Tubbo & Ranboo (platonic)

Words: 7,202

Rating: G or T? It's a little spooky and there's a suggestive joke here and there but it's pretty SFW. No strong language.

No strong angst, it's mostly boys bein boys!!

Read on Ao3 (CLICK THE SOURCE LINK!!) or click Read More!

Ranboo swallows thickly as he witnesses a massive spruce branch crash through the dense layer of ice coating a nearby lake, his restless gaze darting across the terrain while the whistling wind hammers incessantly against his eardrums. Violent white flurries conceal much of the world from sight, and Ranboo's eyes lock onto anything and everything he can discern against the blizzard. He is disquieted by a gentle tap on his elbow, focus snapping towards the source at honed speeds. The muscles around his shoulders and neck slack momentarily when he catches sight of Tubbo, both of them dodging eye contact while Tubbo takes a step back to give the startled half-enderman some room to breathe before piping up.

"Do you plan to spend your whole visit looking out the window?" Tubbo's voice seems louder than it needs to be. "We'll be stuck inside here for a while, you may as well enjoy yourself."

A short huff passes Ranboo's lips before he crosses his arms, gloved fingers thrumming against himself in a furtive attempt to relax his nerves. "If your idea of enjoying myself is anything like last time, I think I'll pass." Tubbo's mouth turns downwards at the sentiment, a hand raising to his chin in contemplation.

"Ranboo. We're friends, right?" Ranboo's mouth goes agape for a moment before shutting tight, his brows knitting together in thought. Tubbo takes this as a cue to keep going. "I consider you a friend, you know. I wouldn't make you uncomfortable on purpose." Tubbo steps closer to Ranboo, his gaze searching the humanoid boy's face in an attempt to discern his feelings. "Do you never get curious of the differences between us, Ranboo? Like, biologically?" Ranboo's brow peaks at this one, skeptical eyes peering down at Tubbo.

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," Ranboo warns, and Tubbo splutters before tightly shutting his eyes and pointing both fingers at them.

"Like this, you see?" Tubbo opens his eyes again in time to see Ranboo scrunching his nose at the sight. "You don't have eyelids, why is that?"

Ranboo tilts his head, an incredulous expression painting his features. "I wasn't born with any." He almost stops there, but Tubbo's disappointed pout breaks him just enough to add "My eyes don't need moisture like yours do."

"What about protecting them from the elements?" Ranboo shrugs.

"I just don't have them, Tubbo. I'm not a biologist."

"Wait - don't you cry? And pee? So you have water in your body, right?" Tubbo jabs Ranboo in the arm while his eyes wander his body up and down. "That must suck! How are you not, like, corroding from the inside out?"

"I'd like to go back to watching the storm," Ranboo announces, once again turning towards the window.

"No, wait! I'm sorry, I just... I don't know, I guess I think you're interesting, in a cool way, you know?" Tubbo watches in dismay as Ranboo tenses his jaw, making a point to keep his eyes fixated away from Tubbo. "You could ask me any questions about my body if you want! I'd be happy to share..." Tubbo bites his lip, cringing at his own wording. "That sounds kind of weird, doesn't it? Not that I would mind if you asked something weird! As long as it's fair, like an 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' kinda thing." Tubbo takes note of how Ranboo's lip twitches up in amusement when he says this and rakes his mind for something that would encourage words. "You know, when I was a kid I was absolutely terrified of endermen. But now I think they're kinda cute, so thanks for that."

This works. "Pff. 'When I was a kid'? You're still a kid." Tubbo's triumphant smile falters almost immediately as he processes the words that fall from Ranboo's mouth.

"Hey, I'm older than you! And you know what I meant!"

Ranboo shakes his head, turning away from the window to examine his cluttered indoor surroundings. "What building is this, anyway? I don't remember it being here last time I came over." Tubbo wants to call him out for changing the subject so abruptly but reckons it's safer if he doesn't press on the matter - at least Ranboo wants to talk now. The blizzard started so suddenly, the two of them had run into the nearest building that appeared somewhat safe. It happened to be one that Ranboo had never been inside before, as well as one that made Tubbo a little... nervous.

"It was always here - in fact, it was abandoned long before I even settled. But it was just a rundown shack, and now I've fixed it up a bit. Oh!" Tubbo slaps a fist into his open palm, smiling up at Ranboo with bright, mischievous eyes. "I actually never finished exploring the cellar. It's probably safer down there anyway, would you like to check it out?"

Ranboo hums, scanning the floor of the room until he catches sight of an awkwardly placed carpet. "Is that it?" He doesn't wait for a response, kneeling over the beige square and allowing his hand to hover over it. He's got no clue how clean it is, but his hands are tucked away inside a pair of gloves that make him feel comfortable enough to touch it regardless. Unsurprisingly, moving the carpet off to the side reveals an old, cracked trapdoor that Tubbo has evidently yet to replace.

"I suppose I didn't hide it all that well," Tubbo joins Ranboo in kneeling over the piece of spruce wood that would likely be more useful to them as kindling. "I've taken a peek, but... well, it's a bit scary, if I'm honest."

Tubbo's gaze locks on the trapdoor, his calloused fingers dancing across the splintery wood only to stop at the edge he's meant to lift at. He taps gently on it, picking at the corner with his thumb in a fashion that Ranboo easily detects as stalling. Ranboo doesn't interfere, taking this as an opportunity to observe Tubbo's mannerisms. Ranboo isn't one to be particularly curious about the nuances of any species, but Tubbo has always been somewhat perplexing on an individual level. Like his tendency to, seemingly unintentionally, say things with vastly inappropriate connotations - or the way he'll cower at the smallest threat while having no quarrels with taking out a hoard of zombies on a particularly rough venture. The way he can construct an entire town overnight and still have the energy for... unethical experimentation. He really is a piece of work - and he's somebody that Ranboo enjoys spending time with, despite the occasional conflicts of interest.

And right now he's nervous to go into his own cellar. "What's down there?" Ranboo takes note of the way Tubbo jumps at the sound of his voice, fingers gripping the trapdoor tightly to ground himself.

"Well, not much." Tubbo lifts the trapdoor carefully, a creaking sound echoing down into the dark shoot it uncovers. There's enough light at the bottom for them to see that it isn't incredibly deep and that the room at the bottom is walled with cracked stone bricks. "I may have left a lantern down there last time because I didn't want to turn my back on the darkness... you know how that is, right Ranboo?"

Instead of agreeing, Ranboo chuckles. He truly does get it, but when the world is as dangerous as it is, a dark abandoned cellar can easily be the least of someone's worries. "Do you want me to go down first?" Tubbo appears to seriously consider Ranboo's offer before a look of determination crosses his face and he climbs in without a word. "I didn't mean for that to be a challenge or anything," Ranboo calls down after him, pouting and following suit when he doesn't receive a response.

The ceiling of the room they climb down into is significantly lower than the ground floor - some kind of perfect middle ground that forces Ranboo to hunch over while simultaneously allowing Tubbo to stand up perfectly straight with more than enough breathing room. So... about 180cm. A lantern lies on its side in the middle of the room, casting dark shadows into the corners. Despite being forcibly hunched over, the room isn't too uncomfortable or creepy to Ranboo at all - that is, until he notices the perturbed expression Tubbo is aiming at the lantern. "Is there a problem?" Tubbo is nodding before the question has entirely left Ranboo's mouth, panicked eyes scanning their surroundings as if the walls are whispering to him. It's just a barren stone room with a stained white cot and an ominous spruce door on the far wall.

"This isn't where I left the lantern." Shadows dance across the room as Tubbo carefully lifts the once-forgotten lantern off the floor, aiming it up at Ranboo so that he could see the half-enderman's face clearly despite the darkness. Ranboo instinctively turns his head away - a passing thought informs Tubbo that Ranboo's eyes may have high light sensitivity when compared to a human's, but he manages to avoid acknowledging this for now. "I had it hung on that hook over there," Tubbo points towards the door with the same hand holding his lantern, lighting up the area enough to reveal a thin, cobweb-coated chain hanging near the spruce door. A rusted hook is attached at the bottom of the chain, and some disturbing thoughts of what that may have been used for in the past fill both boys' minds.

Ranboo takes a cautious step past Tubbo, one of his hands fidgeting with the hem of his oversized suit jacket as he releases a shaky breath. "It must have fallen." He may or may not believe his own words. The two lock eyes for once and Tubbo finds that he has to fight an urge to freeze under such a pointed gaze. Underneath it, however, he can tell Ranboo is just as frightened as himself.

"It couldn't have. Not unless someone was down here." Tubbo's eyes snap over to fixate on the door and his voice quiets as though he's afraid of being overheard - "I haven't opened that yet... too scary."

A few beats of silence pass between the boys before Ranboo takes another step towards the door, his hand gripping the handle with all the courage he can muster. The door rattles against his touch and something behind it stirs, scuttling away before he's even cracked it ajar. Tubbo shouts, the lantern slipping from his grip and clattering to the floor while he dashes to comfort himself by burying his face in Ranboo's back, allowing his arms to coil around him.

It's silent, both of them failing to move after the commotion passes.

Ranboo is the first to speak up. "Maybe I should hold the lantern."

A brief debate is settled with Ranboo doing exactly that, much to Tubbo's initial dismay. Ranboo reminds him that they're both well equipped to handle anything they come across down here, but it's difficult to hold onto that thought when your environment is so incredibly unwelcoming. Once they've eventually opened the spruce door they're met with a narrow, unfinished tunnel through dirt and stone. "Why would a door lead to this?" Tubbo turns up his nose, glaring into the darkness with disdain. "I expected a hall."

"Maybe there used to be one here," Ranboo suggests, ducking into the cramped tunnel. Sometimes he's jealous of shorter folk. Not often, but sometimes.

"It's a pretty tight fit, huh?" Tubbo leans away from the entrance, wringing his hands together. "Maybe I should just wait for you - AAH-!" A crash reverberates from outside the cellar and Tubbo slips into the tunnel after Ranboo, slamming the door shut behind him. "Never mind! Start walking, Ranboo, I'm right behind you!" Ranboo can't help the smile he cracks when Tubbo reacts to what he assumes is just another tree branch falling to the blizzard outside, but he saves the teasing for later. For now, they've got a bit of spelunking to do.

The tunnel is suspiciously well worn, not nearly as difficult to traverse as it first appeared to be. The end splits into two branches, and Tubbo's heart sinks when he realizes that he can just barely make out even more branches at the ends of them. "Are you thinking the same as me, big man?"

"Maybe..." Ranboo mumbles, flinching at a distant crunching sound. "I'm thinking we're not alone. You?"

"I think this is a whole tunnel system," Tubbo gulps, his hand unconsciously wandering to grip the base of Ranboo's jacket.

A low-pitched hissing sound echoes down the tunnels from the right, and as soon as a shadowed figure becomes visible the lantern is once again on the floor, this time extinguishing the light inside. The two boys make a dash for the door, taking turns shoving each other in an attempt to make it out safely in the pitch darkness. Tubbo trips on his way out, adrenaline continuing to escalate until he hears Ranboo shut the door securely behind them. "You're okay," Ranboo reassures between breaths, and while Tubbo understands that this is likely intended as self-reassurance, he tries his best to be comforted by it as well.

The light coming down from the trapdoor isn't enough for Tubbo to see anything in the room other than Ranboo's eyes, but Ranboo appears to have little to no issue seeing while he helps Tubbo back onto his feet. Tubbo has a difficult time restraining himself this time. "Can endermen see in the dark?"

Ranboo freezes briefly before letting go of Tubbo's arms, an exasperated chuckle escaping him. "Even after all that, you're still thinking about our biological differences?"

"Well I can't SEE anything right now, and you're just calm!"

"What? You're looking right at me!"

"Your eyes are GLOWING, Ranboo!!"

"Tubbo, I don't mean to alarm you, but there's something living under your house."

"I GOT THAT, THANK YOU."

Chapter 2 - Spelunking 2: Electric Boogaloo

It turns out Ranboo's eyes are capable of seeing much more acutely in low lighting than Tubbo's - he can easily discern colors in the dark and had been wholly unaware that humans grappled with such menial tasks.

"That might explain why some people describe desaturated colors as 'darker'." Ranboo dips his head, swaying back in his seat on Tubbo's cot. "That reveals a lot, actually. I always thought of 'night vision' potions as a pretty bizarre niche, but it turns out that my eyes are just better."

"We don't know that!" Tubbo crosses his arms, stirring against the wall in his spot on the floor. "There might be something our eyes can do that yours can't, right?"

Ranboo takes a second to ponder this, working a gloved finger along his cheekbone and up the rim of his eye socket in quiet contemplation. "You can shut them, I guess." He peers at Tubbo, his sights resting thoughtfully along the outer edges of Tubbo's eyes that appear so different from his own. "It looks very strange to me, but it seems useful."

"Do eyelids unsettle you?" Tubbo grimaces, peeling his eyes open with his fingers. "Because to us you look very wide-eyed all the time, it can be creepy. Especially when you're asleep."

"I wouldn't say it's unsettling," Ranboo says, making a snap decision to brush off Tubbo's comment about him being creepy. "Most species I run into have them, so I'm used to seeing them. It's just strange looking when I focus on it, that's all."

"I suppose I could get used to the lack of them if we hung out more." Tubbo grins. "I enjoy your company, I hope you know that." A peculiar warmth washes over Ranboo when Tubbo expresses this. "I know I get on your nerves sometimes, but I really don't mean to. I promise."

Ranboo reflects on Tubbo's heartfelt claim before a sneaky suspicion catches up to him. "You have another weird enderman biology question, don't you?"

"Well!" Tubbo raises his arms dramatically. "What are ender pearls, exactly? You would know!"

"Huh??" Ranboo twists over onto his stomach, inclining off the cot to scrutinize Tubbo's demeanor. "You're serious?" Every second Ranboo spends observing Tubbo's expression, the more it clouds over with humiliation. He sincerely doesn't know what an ender pearl is.

"I know that people get them from endermen!" Tubbo shields his face with his hands, his voice becoming quiet. "And I know you can use them to teleport, but what part of the enderman is it?" He peeps out between his fingers to check if Ranboo is still judging him.

As an act of charity, Ranboo decides to attempt an explanation. They lock eyes and Ranboo conceals his red one, breathing deeply to pacify the nerves that spike in response to his instinctual enderman brain trying to persuade him that Tubbo is going to strike him. "I have one here." Ranboo points at his green eye with the same hand cloaking his red one, his other arm preoccupied with supporting his position on Tubbo's cot.

Tubbo's eyelids flutter in bewilderment before he drops his hands from his face, using them to wriggle closer to Ranboo. "Your eye?" Tubbo's face grows painfully close to Ranboo's, but he doesn't appear to take notice of this, much less the sharp gasp Ranboo releases in reaction to their unexpected proximity. "Are you saying people pull the eyes out of endermen? That's messed up!" Tubbo's exclamation is timed flawlessly with a resounding crash from the blizzard outside, the strong winds startling Ranboo into hastily pulling his hand from his face and using it to shove Tubbo's away from him. He takes a deep breath, dismissing the way Tubbo topples over.

"Teleportation is all in the eye. At least for a full enderman, it is. They teleport where they're looking." Tubbo dramatically flails on the floor before sitting back up, grumbling softly to himself. "I think that most endermen don't realize humans can't teleport, so they feel threatened when you look at them as a challenger." He tilts his head. "But humans kill them for their eyes, so can you blame them?"

Tubbo promptly rams away his gut feeling that Ranboo may very well harbor genuine malice towards humankind for this behavior, and opts to instead propose a simple question. "Why are they a different color?"

Ranboo's face drops. "Because they're not glowing with that purple light anymore." The way he states this makes it sound obvious, yet Tubbo presumes that he's concealing a deeper explanation.

"Your eye is green, though. Do you know why?" Ranboo shakes his head before sitting upright and fidgeting with the hem of his gloves.

"I can't tell you that..." Ranboo likes to think of himself as immoveable - not easily swayed. But even the subtle disheartened glances Tubbo aims at him can break him down little by little, and some days he's especially susceptible to it. So he provides a little bit more. "I can tell you that there was once a point in time where all of them had eyes like this, but nowadays they'd need some repairing to get there."

It's only now that Tubbo is struck by the realization endermen knew their own history and were able to share it with Ranboo - so they must also have goals. Goals, aspirations and plans that Ranboo isn't authorized to share with him or any other human. He has so many questions, but Ranboo has chosen to spend time with humans and help them instead, so maybe he should simply be appreciative of that and savor Ranboo's company while he can. "Ranboo..." Tubbo stands up, dusting himself off. "I think I'm ready to face whatever is in those tunnels." His apprehensive eyes wander Ranboo's frame as he slips out of Tubbo's spare cot. "As long as you're willing to join me?"

Ranboo's lip curls up in amusement while he sizes Tubbo up, slipping off his gloves to reveal thin, clawed fingers that resemble more that of an enderman than a human's. The way he pops his knuckles is much unlike an enderman however, and Tubbo can't help but find it striking how one of his hands is splattered with white blotches that become more abundant around the hem of his sleeve. "Don't worry Tubbo, I'll protect you," Ranboo teases, earning a scowl out of Tubbo while he tousles the shorter teen's hair.

"Thanks, big man (derogatory), but I'll be the one doing the protecting, I think!" Tubbo grabs a worn diamond helmet from his nightstand and haphazardly yanks it over his head, effectively obscuring his vision by pushing hair over his eyes.

"We're armoring up for this?" Ranboo intends to tease Tubbo, but he can't disguise the relief in his tone - he's hardly comfortable taking his armor off inside the safety of this building, but Tubbo had insisted he did so once it became clear the blizzard wouldn't be passing anytime soon.

It takes a while for the both of them to get into all of their armor - perhaps they're stalling, but at least they'll be safer this way. "What if it's friendly?" Ranboo suggests as they kneel over the trapdoor once again, earning an elevated brow and a very pointed look from Tubbo.

"It hissed and chased us down a dark tunnel." Tubbo pauses, his hands resting across the top of the trapdoor. "Wait, could you see it?" Ranboo nods slowly.

"Yeah, a little. It's like, some kind of spider." Tubbo gapes.

"I've killed loads of those! Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"Well, it's not JUST a spider! It's something different, it's just... spider-like."

Tubbo rolls his eyes. "Well if it looks like a spider, it'll die like a spider. Let's go!" With newfound determination, Tubbo drops down into the cellar once again.

Ranboo is less sure of himself but climbs down into the cramped space shortly after. "Maybe we shouldn't jump straight to killing it, though. What if it has a family?" Tubbo stops at the door, igniting a torch before shifting to look up at Ranboo.

"True," Tubbo starts slowly, humming as he weighs their options. "We'll capture it now, and decide what to do from there."

Ranboo bends towards Tubbo clumsily, his shoulder bumping into the chain hanging from the ceiling hard enough to make it rattle noisily. "And how do you plan to capture it?" He lifts an eyebrow. "No way you're going to overpower it."

"Well, I have... this!" Tubbo pulls out the rope hanging from his belt, presenting it arrogantly for a moment before his smile falters. "Eh, I could use this as well actually." Ranboo accepts the lit torch Tubbo hands over to him and his face shifts from bemusement to shock as Tubbo grabs hold of the chain and tears it hard enough for it to snap off the ceiling, slinging it over his shoulder while wearing an entirely nonchalant mien. "I'm sure we'll figure something out when we run into it."

Ranboo is still gawking when Tubbo swings the old spruce door open and turns to him expectantly, urging Ranboo to find words. "You're not nervous at all?"

"It's just a spider! And you have the light, so go in first please." His sentence ends more timidly than it begins, giving Ranboo the impression that his method of resolution is sheer forced willpower. That should be sufficient though, and Ranboo does his best to replicate this energy when he steps into the tunnel. Full netherite makes him nearly indestructible even when things get the jump on him - he should be perfectly fine! Tubbo clearly has a mental advantage, as he's managed to convince himself that this creature is JUST a spider, whereas Ranboo knows first-hand that it's much more threatening than one.

They don't need to travel far to start hearing muffled scuttling in the distance, but it's impossible to determine where it's coming from. Ranboo startles when he feels something clutch his free hand but eases up when he recognizes it as Tubbo attempting to compose himself. He curls his fingers around Tubbo's, moderately surprised by how rough they feel without his gloves on. They don't feel like the hands of someone who would be nervous in this scenario, but It's not as if Ranboo looks like someone who would be afraid either. Perhaps the two boys aren't so dissimilar.

Ranboo hesitates when his foot comes in contact with something metal resting on the ground, peering down to see the now twice-forgotten lantern extinguished in the darkness. "Ah, whoops," Ranboo feels a tad guilty for leaving it here but knows Tubbo would have done the same. He dismisses the disappointed noise coming from Tubbo's direction when he separates their hands to pick up the lantern, using the torch to reignite it before offering it to Tubbo. "Maybe holding this will help..." Ranboo mutters, and Tubbo handles it appreciatively.

Tubbo gazes at the lantern for a while before inspecting the entrances of both branches in the tunnel. "Should we split up?" This question understandably takes Ranboo off guard.

"Split up?" Ranboo waves the torch at Tubbo, who backs away barely in time to not have his clothes singed. He wants to scold Ranboo for trusting his reflexes too much, but it doesn't appear to be a good time for that. "I think we're good like this, thanks." Tubbo shrugs, turning his nose up away from Ranboo. "Besides, you're the only one with equipment to trap it."

"You're a giant! Just grab it!"

"GRAB IT? No way!"

Their bickering is cut short when the unsettling hiss from earlier returns and Ranboo's immediate reaction is to deliberately extinguish his torch, seemingly to get a better look at the creature that is now peering around the corner of the tunnel they're standing at the mouth of. This action perplexes Tubbo - can Ranboo see BETTER in low lighting? Ugh! Now isn't the time! Tubbo speaks up softly, wary that the creature could possibly rush them at any instant. "Should we wait for it to come to us?"

Ranboo releases the extinguished torch stick and unsheaths his sword, hazy lilac swirls dripping from the enchanted weapon and dissipating into the air as he holds it steady in front of him. "Well, you have the light." Tubbo tenses his jaw, understanding that Ranboo is entrusting him to personally make the first move.

The creature's infinite eyes are scarcely visible to Tubbo, and he's profoundly disturbed by the mass burden weighing on him as it observes him shifting the chain from his shoulder so that he can fasten it to his waistband. He maneuvers the rope from a hook on his belt, swapping it out for the lantern so his hands are free to handle the rope with more precision. "You better back me up," Tubbo mutters, methodically arranging the rope in his hands while his face scrunches up in concentration.

"I'm right behind you." Tubbo takes Ranboo's word as a cue to move, gradually invading the tunnel and squinting in an effort to make out the creature's form. It sounds another warning hiss before thin, glistening black pincers reveal themselves. Tubbo squeaks in alarm but covers it by clearing his throat. It hasn't made any sudden movements, but the more it exposes itself the more Tubbo feels like he needs to retreat.

Ranboo sounds surprisingly calm from behind him. "Careful, that looks venomous." Tubbo juts a lip out, glowering at the creature. He would glare at Ranboo, but he doesn't exactly want to let this entity out of his sights.

"What ARE you?" He doesn't know what he expects from asking this giant arachnid monstrosity questions, but it sure isn't entertained by it. The creature dashes out and it takes every thread of Tubbo's being to hold his ground. It's definitely not... 'just a spider.' He lassoes the pincers without a hitch, but this isn't as much of a hindrance to the creature as he first hoped. "It has a- AH-!" Tubbo barely evades a massive scorpion-like stinger, eyes wide as he observes it wriggling around, lodged into the wall near his torso. He acts on the first thought that comes to his mind, ripping the chain from his waistband and hooking it into the tail - rusty iron splitting through the creature's compacted flesh and evoking a loud, blood-curdling cry.

Tubbo recoils and staggers away from the shriek, his grasp on the chain slipping. He's able to keep hold of the rope, but when the creature succeeds in dislodging its tail from the wall it only becomes more deadly with a dense iron chain swaying from it. It's got six wiry legs, mobility only restricted due to Tubbo's hold on its pincers. He's run out of ideas by the time it's lurching at him again, his reflexes being the only thing that save him when the stinger comes at his face head-on and he manages to free one of his hands to seize its tail at arm's length. He pulls up on the rope while slipping a foot onto what he understands to be the creature's face, another loud hiss filling the tunnel from the hostile beast. "Ranboo! Do something!" Tubbo grinds his teeth, adrenaline working as his sole savior while the creature strives to wrestle its stinger out of his waning grip.

When the tail inevitably slips from Tubbo's hand he truly believes it's over for him, moving to cover his face while his other hand grips the rope impossibly tight for emotional support. His eyes are sealed shut before he hears the chain clattering to the floor, and it takes a few ticks for the implication of that to sink in.

"Ranboo?" Tubbo blinks his eyes open, adapting to the sight manifesting itself in front of him. The creature is still grappling with his grip, but it's manageable - Ranboo has lodged his sword through one of the chain links and into the tunnel floor, restricting the tail's movement almost entirely.

Ranboo's hands shift across the handle of his blade as he kneels down, dangling his head while he takes a deep breath. "Sorry, I... froze a little. I should have helped sooner." Despite the throbbing pace of his heartbeat, Tubbo can only manage a languid sigh of relief.

"You can make up for it by helping me contain this."

Chapter 3 - Guest Room Away From Home

Tubbo allows his body to topple into a half-meter of snow, unphased by the icy winds lashing his nose and cheeks. He hasn't had a proper opportunity to rest for hours, and it's beginning to catch up to him.

Ranboo peers down at him, brushing his once-again gloved hands close to his chest to keep warm. "You don't plan to leave it in there, right?" Ranboo stoops down to gaze into the shed's barred window, sulking when he catches sight of the restrained creature huddled in the corner. "You didn't even give it any food."

"She has water!" Tubbo throws his hands in the air as he sits up, watching Ranboo with an expectant gaze. "And I'm going to find out what she likes to eat once Mr. Manifold gets back from his top-secret mission." Ranboo doesn't trouble himself with asking any questions concerning the top-secret mission, instead choosing to wordlessly take hold of Tubbo's arms and pull him to his feet. "This is a temporary holding space as well, I'll build something more comfortable for her once the weather calms down some more."

"That's fair, the wind is making the cold much harder to bear," Ranboo says, neglecting to let go of Tubbo's arms once he's risen. "And I hate the feeling of snow melting against my skin." Tubbo nods in understanding, taking notice of the subtle shivering he can feel through their hand-to-arm contact.

"I'll fashion you a proper jacket for your next visit," Tubbo grins, tearing his arms out of Ranboo's hold so that he can run his hands across the collar of Ranboo's suit jacket. Ranboo recoils, rigidly stumbling away from the unexpected contact. "Oops," Tubbo chuckles, clutching Ranboo's hand with both of his instead, an action Ranboo doesn't protest. "Let me take your measurements!" Tubbo brings Ranboo's hand up to his chest in a begging movement, gazing up at him with his deep, puppy-like eyes. "Please?"

"You really don't have to do that-"

"PLEASE, Ranboo! Let me take your measurements and make you a luxurious Snowchester jacket, we could be matching!"

Ranboo caves to this request after little resistance, Tubbo eagerly hauling him back into the only building they had cleared a path to through the snow. Ranboo winces while witnessing Tubbo thoughtlessly cast his diamond helmet into a pile of leftover wooden planks, allowing his severely fractured chestplate to clatter against the floorboards. He leaves his legplates and greaves on, to which Ranboo is sincerely thankful he doesn't need to watch Tubbo mishandle more valuable equipment.

"Alright!" Tubbo kneels down to rummage through a spruce chest, drawing out a long, charcoal-marked woolen cloth. "If you don't mind, I need you down to your shirt for this." Ranboo nods, gingerly placing his helmet and chestplate on the armor stand by the door. Tubbo speaks up again, the words forcing Ranboo to momentarily lock up before slowly turning to gawk at the shorter teen.

"What was that?" He asks incredulously, eyebrows shooting up when Tubbo responds by turning a deep red.

"Wait, that sounded really weird - I just meant-"

"Did you just say 'I like it when you undress for me,' or am I beginning to develop severe auditory processing issues?"

"I phrased that VERY poorly!" Tubbo drops the wool cloth and holds up his hands in submission, redness refusing to leave his features from both the cold and mortification.

"Do I even want to know what you meant?"

"Yes!" Tubbo moves to grab Ranboo's jacket sleeve, distressed by the way Ranboo dodges this motion while eyeing him warily. "I just meant that I'm happy you trust me enough to take your armor off!" Tubbo reasons, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping in a manner that has the lantern on his belt rattling against his legplates. "I know you don't feel very safe without it."

"How does 'I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough around me to remove your netherite armor' become 'I like it when you undress for me,' Tubbo?"

"I don't know! I swear I'm not like this on purpose," Tubbo holds his face in his hands, twisting away from the half-enderman that stands in his doorway. "Just take the jacket off. I promise I won't make it weird."

A heavy piece of fabric is draped over Tubbo's head and shoulders, startling him out of his daze. He doesn't expect it to be Ranboo's jacket, but that's exactly what he sees when he pulls it off to inspect it at arm's length. "It's bigger than I thought," he pronounces plainly, and Ranboo suppresses a laugh. Tubbo's eyes snap up to meet Ranboo's "What's funny about that?"

"Nothing," Ranboo lies, clearing his throat to regain his composure. "Just - let's get this over with, I guess."

Tubbo slings the jacket over his shoulder and picks the woolen strip off the floor before swinging to round up the stairs that sat in the corner of the cluttered room. "Right, just come with me."

"Now you're having me join you in your bedroom," Ranboo remarks, an amused smile dancing across his features while Tubbo stumbles ahead of him.

"There are no stools down there, okay?" Tubbo is enthusiastically holding out his measuring cloth when Ranboo enters the bedroom, patting the edge of his cot. "I just need you to sit on the bed so I can reach better."

"You're being so forward," Ranboo teases, and this time Tubbo rolls his eyes.

"Now who's making it weird, big man? I'm trying to do something nice for you!"

"Oh yeah you are."

"Yeah, I am!! Sit on the bed!" He pulls Ranboo by the arm, forcing the enderboy to half-stumble into a sitting position on the edge of his cot, netherite greaves clanking against the hardwood floor as his legs fold uncomfortably in the low seat. "This shouldn't take long," he says, crawling behind Ranboo and spreading the cloth along his broad shoulders.

"Probably not a good idea to sit on the bed with your shoes on like that," Ranboo comments, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Tubbo's focused expression.

It takes a moment for Tubbo to register Ranboo's remark, but he answers readily once it sinks in. "Nobody actually sleeps here." Tubbo compels Ranboo's arm out, measuring the length of his shirt sleeve while murmuring the measurements to himself repeatedly. Ranboo decides not to intervene, knowing that he could scuff the measurements if he distracts Tubbo now.

Once Tubbo has recorded a few numbers on a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, Ranboo pipes up again. "You put a bed in a building nobody sleeps in?"

"Yeah, I suppose you could think of it as a guest bedroom." Tubbo slides out of the cot, dusting off the spot he had been sitting in before Ranboo sprawls out into it, slinging his arms out above him.

"Welp, it's small, but it'll do!" Ranboo laughs, and Tubbo raises a hand to his chin in deliberation.

"Do you want to stay here, by any chance?" Ranboo covers his face with an arm, a lighthearted sigh passing his lips.

"We've been over this. Living in settlements like this doesn't end well for me."

Tubbo huffs, opening his arms. "I'm not asking you to move in, I'm just offering to reserve this guest room for you." He glances at the window, darkness creeping in as the sun sets over the horizon. "And for you to stay the night here, so you don't have to travel until morning."

Ranboo chuckles. "You know what? Sure." He peers up at Tubbo from his position lying in the cot, propping himself up on his elbow to get a clearer view of the human boy's welcoming demeanor. "It's not my house though, alright?" Tubbo pumps his fist triumphantly.

"Yeah, it's my house!" Tubbo agrees, whirling on his heel to scuffle down the stairs. "I'm still writing 'Ranboo my Beloved' on the welcome mat, though." Ranboo falls back onto the cot, smiling to himself momentarily before he rolls off to follow Tubbo down to the ground floor.

"You're armoring up again?" Ranboo asks, visibly alarming Tubbo while he struggles to tie his chestplate back on.

"Oh, I just have some things I need to take care of before Mr. Manifold returns tonight." He runs a hand over the back of his neck, and Ranboo notices that he's hung his suit jacket over the second armor stand he perpetually fails to make proper use of. "You're free to stay here, make yourself... at home..." Tubbo worries his lip clumsily, forgetting his helmet abandoned on the floor when he swings open the front door. The lantern on his hip illuminates the front porch, alerting Ranboo to how quickly the daylight is slipping away. "Or you can wander around a bit if that's your thing. I trust you not to go into any restricted areas." Tubbo simpers sweetly, securing the door behind him before Ranboo has an opportunity to react.

"What an odd little man," Ranboo notes, his brow furrowing at the closed door. He doesn't sleep very well that night.

Energetic knocking rouses Ranboo from a night of light sleep, his heart racing thanks to a dream that he can scarcely recall coupled with his foreign surroundings - an uncomfortably small cot in a confined bedroom, the window on the far wall being the only sign he's above ground. "Ranboo!" Tubbo calls, stifled by the walls that separate them. Ranboo's lips part to welcome a jittery breath as the memories fall into place, his eyes darting to meet the staircase he wouldn't have known to look for a minute ago.

"Ranboo, my beloved! Are you up - oh!" Tubbo's eyes brighten when Ranboo opens the door for him, a broad smile gracing his lips. "Good morning, sunshine!" Ranboo huffs, failing to contain the smile he catches from Tubbo's infectious attitude.

"Good morning Tubbo." Ranboo can't help notice how Tubbo is underdressed for the weather, his armor and vest missing from his usual Snowchester attire. "Aren't you cold?" Tubbo welcomes himself inside, stretching his arms above his head before he kneels down in front of the furnace.

"I've been shoveling snow all morning, gets the blood pumping. WOO!" Tubbo shakes his hands in front of the furnace, beaming over at Ranboo. "My hands are numb!"

"Well I'm gonna head out before you ask me to help you with that," Ranboo says, seizing his suit jacket from the armor stand and tugging it over his shoulders, fastening the buttons as he speaks. "Thanks for letting me stay overnight, it's been... nice. I enjoy your company. I think."

"Ah wait!" Tubbo scrambles to his feet, pressing his hands out to signal Ranboo to stop. "Don't leave yet, I have something for you!" He slips outside without further notice, leaving Ranboo to halt in bewilderment before he finishes armoring up and waits anxiously for the human boy to return.

It doesn't take long, and this time Tubbo enters the building without knocking. A perplexed look crosses Ranboo's features as he peers at Tubbo, who now stands empty-handed in front of him. "So... we haven't finished that jacket I promised just yet, but I, uh," Tubbo chuckles restlessly, his fingers tugging loosely at his collar. "You remember the cellar, right? And the creature we captured together?"

Ranboo needs to think on that for a moment but can recall it well enough. "Yeah, and then we spent hours wrangling it into a holding cell." Ranboo inclines towards Tubbo skeptically. "I don't... want the animal, Tubbo."

Tubbo squints, compressing his lips together in an attempt to stop a laugh from escaping. "I wasn't going to pawn her off to you, don't worry," Tubbo reassures, glancing down at the lantern secured to his belt. That wasn't there when he came in earlier, was it? "I wanted to thank you for helping me with that, it would've been a lot more difficult without you." His hands travel down to the lantern, carefully unfastening it from his belt and holding it up between the two of them with both hands. "The one who holds this light makes the first move... In combat, I mean. That's a signal we decided on yesterday, and it's something only the two of us would understand."

"You're... giving me a lantern?" Ranboo asks, accepting it from Tubbo and holding it up to get a closer look.

"Think of it as a memento of sorts." Tubbo rocks back on his heels, his gaze focused on Ranboo as the taller boy gives him a slow nod.

Despite everything, Ranboo trusts himself to remember what this lantern means. A memento of his bond with Tubbo, and a way to convey an idea between the two of them that nobody else will understand.

The next time Ranboo sees a lantern lying forgotten on a cave floor, he thinks of Tubbo. Even though, at that moment, he can't quite recall why.

#dream smp fanfiction #tubbo fanfic #ranboo fanfic #snowchester #dsmp fic #krispysfics #long post #fanfiction #dream smp #I've never posted fics to tumblr forgive me if I did this incorrectly #I really cobbled this together too it's not my best work but I hope someone likes it

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck Part 6: Terror of the Transvaal! “But You... You Just Made Me Mean.”

Hello you happy people. And welcome back to my look at The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck! And with this one i’ve reached the halfway point of this epic and couldn’t be prouder and have no plans to slow down. In fact while June and July will have one chapter each as is my usual for storylines I do on my own time, August and September will have DOUBLE the chapters to help me reach the finsih line. This dosen’t mean i’m done mind, i’ll probably get into the side chapters next year, possibly sooner. But my main goal when setting out to do this was to cover the main story, one of my favorite comics of all time and easily the best scrooge comic ever. But the point is it’s been a helluva ride so far and i’m not even to the second half yet.

This chapter is also one of my favorites along with “The Last of Clan McDuck”, “THe Raider of the Copper HIll” and “The Invader of Fort Duckburg”. It’s a compelling and tragic turning point in our heroes life and has THE most badass moment in Scrooge’s history, only rivaled by another moment in this very series, which if you’ve read it you know EXACTLY what i’m talking about for both. This is also a lucky one for me as I scheduled this a while back before me and Kev had settled on doing the season 2 arcs, so I ended up scheduling this one the same week as my coverage of Glomgold’s other origin story in “The Ballad of Duke Baloney!”, a story that take some small cues from this one. So if all of that has peaked your interest, please join me under the cut as Scrooge becomes “The Terror of the Transvaal!”

As for why Rosa set the chapter here there’s two simple reasons: it was one of two gold rushes mentioned in Barks work, meaning Scrooge could get in some more experience before making his fourtune in the Klondike, and Rosa understandably couldn’t resist having Scrooge and his greatest rival meet in their youth. He WAS careful to not have Scrooge learn Flinty’s name, as Scrooge dosen’t recognize him in Flintheart’s first apperance in “The Second Richest Duck”.. but Rosa noticed Flinty seemed familiar with SCROOGE, and simply ran with it, still having his first encounter with the bastard deeply effect Scrooge but leaving Scrooge unaware that the thief and betrayer he met in the Transavaal was the same heartless Scoundrel he’s fated to keep fighting till one or both of them keels over.

So starting the chapter proper Scrooge has come to the Transvaal to prospect for gold, following his hunch from last chapter, trying to make his way to the rand, a large natural area in south Africa. The Transvaal itself was a large expanse that was cut up in the 90′s after the fall of apartheid.

Scrooge passes a massive Diamond Mine, large with tons of miners on small claims, but wisely passes it up: there’s too many people, too much fuss and likely too much risk of getting stolen or finding nothing.

And to prove that point we meet Flinty who is trying to steal a guy’s diamonds for the second time today. Now the other miners reaction IS FAIR: they send him up in a bucket thing their using to transport the diamonds as a thief and announce him as such and the people on the surface’s reaction makes it very clear this isn’t new behavior. Him being punished is fine... their punishment though....

Seriously, theft is not worth doing a murder.. and yes he COULD escape and their trying to frame it like that’s not what htier doing.. but their sending someone with clearly low self preservation skills into the desert, with no suplies, tightlyt ied to an angry and clearly wild animal. While Flinty DOES deserve jail for his shit, he doesn’t deserve to DIE for attempted theft. He didn’t ruin anyone’s lives or actually succeed and he’s clearly harmless if eveyrone in the mine knows he’s a criminal. You can’t just murder all your problems away... I mean the blood alone is just not worth the clean up.

Naturally Scrooge crosses paths with Glomgold and assumes he’s simply gotten himself trapped somehow and being an openly kind soul at this point in his life, gladly helps the guy free. Scrooge mentions he’s headed to Johannesburg and GLomgold offers to come along and do all the work as his guide. Scrooge being Scrooge refuses the “do all the work part” but gladly accepts a guide and a new friend and introduces himself as from Scotland. And as a result we get... something resembling a joke...

Look I’m not against a good pun... but that was not a good pun. It wasn’t even a passable pun. It also feels like a bit of a stretch given Scrooge is well traveled by now. you’d THINK he’d get that he was probably talking about something local and not insulting himself.

So Scrooge talks about all he’s learned with Flintheart bored and kind of a dick.. and offering a lesson of his own despite being the same age as Scrooge.. specifically he takes first watch and gives a smug speech.

Scrooge wonders around the wilderness and finds a lion.. then an elephant and soon has the entire savannah after him as he bemoans the betrayal, having never felt like this. We’ll get more into the why in a bit. The point is he’s backed against a wall..but as we all know a cornered animal, human , duck , humanoid duck no matter the species is often at it’s most dangerous.

Especially if that animal is a McDuck. So here we get that badassery I mentioned: faced with an angry horde of some of the most dangerous and awe inspiring critters in Africa Scrooge uses EVERYTHING he’s learned roping cattle and what not to best them. He uses tricks from besting Long Horns to get the Elephants tangled up in a tree, then uses a log to beat a Rhino, before lassoing himself a motherfucking giraffe:

And if THAT weren’t already cool as all hell he tops himself: Since he dosen’t consider a Zebra a proper mount.. he decides to go for something bigger.

So to recap just so it all sinks in for you: Scrooge, abandoned with no suplies, defeats two elephants and a rhino, rides a Giraffe, then TAMES a fucking lion with nothing more than an improvised lasso and PURE RAGE. Then RIDES that majestic creature across the planes like a GODDAMN HORSE, before riding iti into town casual as all hell. I MEANT IT and he’s STILL not done. I mean it doesn’t’t top riding a motherfucking lion, what could, but what he does for an encore is still utterly badass and is a nice coda to riding a motherfucking lion.

So at the local abr Glomgold lies about everything and makes himself the hero of the story, Yes Flintheart Big Dick Glomgold. Purest soul there ever was. This lasts all of a minute as while Flinty brushes off the fact a cowboy is looking for him, he doesn’t even know what that is... he’s soon rightfully shitting himself when Scrooge comes for his vengeance.

The art here is as always impeccable. The shading alone. But seriously I’m terrified and I know he can’t harm me... in theory. In practice if ANYONE could reach out of the page and throttle me, it’d be the guy who rode a motherfucking lion. And no i’m never letting that go. Fucker rode a lion. That’s the kind of thing you never forget about a character for damn good reason. We also get one of my favorite lines in the story, and it has tons of greats.. but this is an easy contender for my favorite:

It’s a chilling line and panel, with it made clear Scrooge’s cynsim, his biggest weakness and often what makes him the most unlikable came from this.. the moment where a villain with no scruples, no care and no code or morals of any kind utterly betrayed him and tried to leave him for dead that took any scrap of hope in mankind he had and destroyed it. From now on he likes nobody and nobody likes him. Other mentors helped Scrooge grow as a person, taught him skills and taught him to survive, to enjoy the road getting to fortune as much as the fortune himself, and to make his way square. Flinty. just made him mean.

But Scrooge isn’t going to kill him.. for one thing he doesn’t’t like shooting people or animals. For another.. he has something far more satisfying in mind: Old West Justice, Tar and Feathearing style, covering the guy and humiliating him by making him do a bullet dance Marty McFly style.

Flinty TRIES to simply escape and steal Scrooge’s shotgun.. but it fails as he runs into the lion and Scrooge takes the beaten flinty over to the jail to press charges. Flinty is jailed.. and makes his own vow.

So with that Scrooge has made a foe for life, and this is another thing the 2017 Cartoon took.. it’s just where as this Flinty was merely angry at his rightful compuance and humilation, the cartoon one was a small child who swore vengance for an honest mistake. But either way you slice it he won’t make Scrooge’s life any easier.

So with that we get our epilogue: Scrooge never made his forutune her, naturally, as the ore was too low quality for him to process alone so only the already rich could afford to set up shop here. Scrooge packs it in determined to still make his fortune and we get an awesome closing panel.

Final Thoughts: As you could probably tell, I fucking love this one. It’s utterly amazing. Barks himself has said he felt the best chapters took place over a short time span and it shows: by having to cover less time, only having a time passing bit at the very end, it allows this vital story to take place over less than a day and allows it to move at a hell of a pace. It’s got action, great character work as we see Scrooge’s last bit of trust in his fellow man shatter, and THE best climax of the series. And the others have some whoppers. This one is just so damn awesome, taking most of the issue but using EVERY page of it to tell one epic finale, from Scrooge’s easy mastery of the beasts, to his taming a motherfucking lion, to Flinty’s UTTERLY satstifying humilation conga...this is just a masterpiece and a huge reminder why I love this comic

Next Time: Scrooge sadly dosen’t keep the lion but does head to Australia where he faces what he is in the dark, meets a new mentor, and gets pointed to his destiny. See you next month for that.

If you liked this review share it, and if you’d like to help me make more join my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. WIth only 10 days left till the new pay period nows the time to jump in so you can pick a short for my Donald Duck birthday specail next month or help me reach a stretch goal so I can get it on the board. Time’s a wastin. And if you can’t, tha’ts fine, thanks for reading.

#the life and times of scrooge mcduck #scrooge mcduck #don rosa #the terror of the transvaal #flintheart glomgold #south africa #comics #disney #vengance

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cottage-babe · 4 years

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Burning Scars part II

Previous | Chapter 2 | Next

Thank you all for the support, it means a lot!!!

I really hope I can keep up with this posting schedule lmao

Summary: Y/n, a werewolf from a hidden village, comes across Zuko and Iroh after being exiled. How has fate intertwined the wolf into the avatar's destiny?

*****TW SEXUAL HARASSMENT NEAR THE END*****

This chapter takes place somewhere between S2 E8 and S2 E11

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Deciding to rob Lee and Mushi was probably the best decision Y/n had ever made.

After their invitation to bring her to a nearby town, the trio ate a small breakfast, packed up, and started on their journey. And let her just say; the breakfast couldn't even compare to the food she ate as a werewolf. It was like a crumb next to what she normally ate.

Sigh, she really wished she could go out and hunt a quick meal, but that would be really hard to explain to the boys.

Other than that, everything sailed by smoothly. Mushi and Y/n rode on the back of their ostrich-horse while Lee walked beside them. They couldn't all fit on the animal (when they tried, Y/n was almost sitting on Lee's lap and it made him jump off, red faced and set on walking instead). They traveled quite slowly due to this, but the pace seemed faster because of the conversations held by two of the members. They spoke of stories of their past, but never quite revealed enough to show who they really are.

"...I had traveled to many places a long, long time ago. I met with and studied so many people and cultures, that I see myself as a blend of everything." Mushi stated as he looked over his shoulder.

Y/n sat behind him and had both legs on one side of the ostrich-horse. She had trouble bringing one leg over, so she instead sat in this position. It helped that they were moving slowly, so she only had to hold on tightly to the saddle.

"That must be why you're so pleasant to be around!" She laughed. "You're the best part of everyone and everything."

Lee snorted at that. Y/n straightened her back and her eyes turned to slits.

"Maybe you could use some of that enlightenment, Lee." She sneered.

Lee just rolled his eyes and continued to look forward. Y/n huffed with her arms crossed. This boy was so annoying, all of the time. She had tried to make friendly conversation with him before, but he only answered with a single word or with nothing at all. And it definitely didn't help that she found him cute… but that was beside the point. His looks could only get him so far.

Mushi looked between the two children with a knowing smile on his face. It confused Y/n, but she ignored it once the old man started to talk again.

"Now, Y/n, the best place I have ever traveled to is the Spirit World," he began. "It is a realm where only spirits and those with enough purpose can flow through. It is wonderfully calm, and wonderfully dangerous. I am sure you have heard of this?"

The girl nodded her head. She wanted to ask him what his purpose for going was, but decided against it. "Yeah, I have. There was someone in my village that traveled through it frequently; one of our teachers. She told us that there was a werewolf spirit guarding us. Many believe that it is one of our original founders."

She hadn't realized it until Mushi spoke, but she had given away a bit too much information on her people. Even if she was never allowed to go back, she wouldn't knowingly risk their safety.

"A werewolf! I have heard stories of them, but many don't know if they were even real. Have you heard about them, Lee?"

The boy rolled his eyes once again and sighed. "No, Uncle."

Wow, two words, must be some sort of record!

"Well," Mushi cleared his throat, "there was a town called Tayiro a very long time ago. The kind citizens were attacked by a pack of werewolves one night. The village fought hard and came out victorious, but with great losses. The villagers warned nearby towns of the invasion and soon they had figured out that the hybrids were living among them, waiting and planning to attack. The information spread all around the world; all until there was not a single werewolf left.

I am quite surprised to hear that your people think of the wolves as protectors. I have only heard of the species being talked about in fear, but it's relieving to hear a different perspective."

Mushi sent Y/n another smile and she tried to send one back, but her thoughts weighed down the corners of her mouth.

Was this really what humans think happened? That the werewolves were the bad guys?

Hearing this new story silenced Y/n for the rest of the trip. She was so stuck in her head that she didn't even notice when they had made it to town.

"Well, we're here." Lee stated as he turned to look at the duo.

His eyes turned over to the girl as she slid off the saddle. Mushi soon joined her on the floor and Lee took hold of the ostrich-horse's reins.

The boy stood awkwardly in the silence before saying, "I guess this is goodbye then."

She looked to the floor in silence. She didn't want to say it, but this was probably one of the best times she's had. Conversing with an old, wise stranger, being offered food, a place to sleep for the night AND a ride to town. Y/n was so extremely lucky to have fate intertwine her life with these two strangers.; even if one was slightly a nuisance to her.

She looked back up to say her thanks, but paused when she saw a staring match happening between the boys. She chose not to speak until they decided that one was victorious.

"You know, nephew, I think we need to buy some supplies before we leave town." Mushi stated with a satisfied smile on his face.

Lee glared a bit longer, but eventually gave up and groaned out a "fine."

Mushi looked at Y/n with the smile still adorning his face. "If you'd like, we can accompany you for a while longer?"

"Oh! I would love the company!" She said happily.

If she was being honest, Y/n was a little frightened by the size of the town. She had been to human villages before, but never one this big. Every once in a while, she and her siblings would sneak out at night to visit a festival in a nearby town. It was very forbidden in her pack, but they did it anyway.

The four of them would change into their human skins, then into a pair of clothes that they kept hidden from their parents, and leave once the rest of their pack slept. They would spend the night stealing food, then dancing with the humans until the sun began to rise. Then they would rush back home to pretend that they were asleep and be an exhausted mess for the rest of the day. Ahh, those were the good days.

But now she was here, with no family or friends other than the strangers she met with yesterday afternoon. So, if they wanted to "accompany" her while they bought supplies, she would gladly accept their offer. It's going to be terrifying once they leave and she's going to have to fend for herself, in a place where her kind was definitely not welcome.

So the three of them tied their horse to a stable and explored the village. The two men stood on both sides of her and slowly began buying many things. The amount of money they had surprised her; whenever they saw something they wanted, they bought it. When she came to the festivals, she often saw people counting their change to see if they could afford something, but that wasn't the case with these two.

Suddenly, Lee looked over to Y/n.

"Are you not going to buy anything?"

"I-uh," she stammered, "I don't have any money. I lost it all when I was attacked by that animal."

There was some truth in that, but also some lies. Lee, however, couldn't seem to notice as he nodded his head and looked down. Y/n never had any real money, especially since her pack didn't use a currency.

Eventually, the three of them stopped at a cart selling food. Lee talked to the man and bought three... bread things? She had never seen it before.

Lee handed one to his uncle, and, surprisingly, to Y/n. She looked at him in shock. This was probably the nicest thing he's ever intentionally done for her.

Lee rolled his eyes. "You're welcome. Don't get so emotional, I just felt bad for you."

The girl nodded her head and smiled at him before looking at the food in her hand. Lee and Mushi had already begun to eat while she simply stared at it. It was a flat square with ridges on the sides. The center was puffed up like it had something in the middle and a white powder dusted the top of it.

At her village, they never had real foods; they hardly ever cooked anything since they would hunt, eat, and live in their wolf forms. The only time she ever had any specialty foods was when they stole them, but those had always been round, sticky, sugary foods. This was completely different.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Mushi asked her, already halfway done with his.

She glanced around in surprise before realizing how odd she probably looked. She quickly took a large bite and chewed. The flavors hit her hard.

It was a lot harder than the soft dough balls she had at festivals, but not by much. The powder on top was sweet and the square was filled with a fruit jam. All together, it was probably the best cooked food she'd ever had.

"This is so good!" Y/n exclaimed with wide eyes. She continued to take another bite. "What is this?!"

Lee looked at her in confusion.

"It's just a strawberry tart. Have you never had it before?"

Y/n took another bite and shook her head. "Never. My... Town didn't appreciate sweet foods like this! I didn't know what we were missing out on!"

She smiled at Lee and, while he indeed was confused, he gave a small smile back.

"Your town is so different from everything, what did you say the name of it was?" Mushi asked as he finished his dessert.

"Oh. It's uhhh..." Y/n desperately looked around. Luckily (well not really), a rat scurried off in front of her and into a dark alley. "... Ratodo. It's really far from here."

Mushi furrowed his eyebrows and rubbed his chin.

Y/n held her breath as she watched him think. She definitely could've thought of something better.

"Yes, I think I heard of them."

She let out her breath in relief. Ratodo... Really?

After that tense moment, the three of them continued on with their shopping trip. While the boys bought things, Y/n looked around and tried to think of a way to survive. She thought about living out in the woods in her werewolf form, but that would be too risky. Her pack or some random civilian could find her.

The best case scenario would be to live as a human.

That couldn’t be too hard, right?

Everything here was based on a currency, so all she needed to do was find some money and buy necessary things. She could always go out and hunt food, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe one of the cart people would offer her a jo-

“Alright, so we have a little bit of money left, I think Y/n should take it to buy some clothes.” Lee interrupted her thoughts.

“Ahhh! That is just what I was thinking, nephew!” Mushi smiled. “I knew you had some kindness left in you.”

Lee scoffed, “I just want my clothes back, old man.”

While they spoke, Y/n just looked between them in awe. The spirits really handed her these two beings, all for free.

She looked around at the building they were standing in front of. It had the word Tailor painted above the door in a cursive writing. A glance into the windows showed mannequins wearing fancy gowns; something that looked way too expensive, even to a girl who didn’t understand money.

“I’m really sorry I took your clothes, Lee,” she apologized.

The boy raised an eyebrow and looked her in the eyes. She could only hope that he saw sincerity in them.

“It’s fine. It’s not like we wanted to see you running around naked anyway.” Lee looked to the ground. “Let’s hurry up and buy the clothes. We gotta leave town soon.”

He rushed her into the store and towards one of the workers. Y/n sighed, if only she could be apart of their adventure, everything would’ve worked out so much smoother.

Lee and Y/n talked to the seamstress over the price of clothing, materials, colors, everything. They settled for a dress, since it was less fabric and easier to make. The workers pushed her to the backroom; separate from Lee. She spared him one last look before disappearing in confusion.

There were three ladies in the room with her. They guided her to a stand and asked her to remove her clothes so they could get exact measurements. The girl started with her pants, then began to remove her shirt. Before it could even get halfway up her stomach, the ladies had gasped and two turned to look the other way.

“Oh dear,” the one still looking said in confusion, “whatever happened to your... underlings?”

Y/n tilted her head, then realized what she meant. The girl shoved her shirt back down to cover her parts and blushed brightly. Once again, human traditions had slipped her mind.

“I don’t have any. They won’t be too expensive, will they?” She didn’t want to waste all of the kind men’s money.

“You can have them for free, dear. Here, we’ll leave you these and tell us to come back when you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded and watched the woman leave through the door they came. She slipped out of her shirt before quickly grabbed the clothing that the woman had left. She slipped on the underwear before looking at a long fabric.

How does this work?

The girl figured that woman used it to hold their breasts, but how? It was a strap of thin fabric; its length about a few feet long. Maybe she should use it the same way Mushi wrapped her leg. She had a bit of trouble, but eventually she managed to secure it tightly around her breasts.

...

...this is really uncomfortable.

How could women wear this? She felt so constricted and claustrophobic. Y/n tried to wiggle it around so she had more room, but nothing could compare to just not wearing it at all. At least she could breathe and move fine.

Once Y/n calmed down, she went to let the three ladies back inside. They all seemed way more happier to see her partially covered up.

They started to do her measurements fast. Y/n held her breath and kept perfectly still so she wouldn’t bother them. When they finished, the women whispered among themselves. Y/n could hear what they were saying; bits of “she almost has the exact same measurements as...” and so on. Then, they walked back over to the girl.

“We have a dress that was never picked up by a girl your age. Would you like to take it? It’ll be cheaper and a lot faster since we won’t have to personalize a different one. Also it comes with free shoes!” She looked at Y/n with a look on her face that screamed motherly. How could she say no to that?

“Yeah, ok. I’ll take it.”

When she put on the dress and grabbed her old clothes, she didn’t have time to look at her reflection in the mirror before the ladies pushed her back to the room where Lee and Mushi were. It seemed like they were going to be busy with someone else.

She cleared her throat to gain the attention of the two men. They looked up and had very different expressions on their faces.

Mushi looked happy to see that she now has her own clothes. He stood up from where the two were sitting and complimented her.

Lee, on the other hand, had a bright red face and wide eyes; much like when he saw her in his clothes before. Y/n looked down at her dress to finally get a good look at it.

It was a dark, earthly green with black detailing and straps. Its sleeves were long and bell shaped, so it was loose around her wrists. This seems practical; its super easy to move in. Then, her eyes drifted down to the skirt section and she gasped. It was very, very, very, short. She expected to see that it would at least reach her knees, but instead it rested on her mid-thigh and showed her bandages.

Now, don’t get her wrong, she liked the dress a lot. It was comfortable and easy to move in. But shes seen what the ladies around this town wore and it was definitely more covered up than this. The last thing she wanted to do was stand out.

Who knows what the people outside would think. Lee was already giving her a bad feeling on how she looked. Maybe its a cultural thing? Is this disrespectful?

She couldn’t help the sad look on her face. Surviving here was going to be a lot harder than she thought if she was going to stick out like a sore thumb. There goes her life of living in the shadows.

Y/n walked up to Lee and he stood up quickly. She held her hands out.

“Here are your clothes, thank you for letting me use them.”

Lee slowly grabbed the clothes and continued to stare. Does he know that his looks aren’t helping?

“Alright, let’s go then.” Mushi stated as he clapped his hands together. Lee broke his stare and nodded his head.

The three of them walked out the store with Y/n in the back. She kept her eyes down and only focused on the two pairs of feet in front of her. Soon they stopped near the stables that held the ostrich-horse.

Everything was eerily quiet.

The boys finally turned around to face her and Y/n looked up at their faces. Mushi had a solemn look and Lee was unreadable.

“So, this is it, huh?” Y/n whispered.

Lee nodded his head while the older man looked to the floor.

They were still silent. Perhaps they were just waiting for her to leave? Her mind sped up.

Maybe I was way more of a burden than I thought I was. They were probably counting down the hours until we separated.

She really wanted to hug them, but maybe that’s too much? It’s not like they were friends or anything. They were never going to see each other again.

“Well, uhh,” She began, “Goodbye... and thank you for everything?”

Y/n stuck her hand out for a handshake.

It floated in the air for a couple seconds.

Then, Mushi moved her hand out of the way and pulled her into a deep, warm hug.

He whispered quietly, “I am dreadfully sorry that we have to leave you here. If it was up to me, I would ask you to come with us.”

She hugged him back just as enthusiastically and her eyes teared up. Mushi was a wonderful person. She pulled back to look at Lee, but his back had turned and he putting everything they bought onto the saddle. Of course he would be; he never really liked her anyways.

Y/n took a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself for the loneliness that was about to walk into her life. This was the moment she had dreaded.

She smiled one last time at the old man before turning and heading back to the town center. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she thought.

But she was so so so wrong.

She had barely walked a few feet away before a man twice her height and age had walked up behind her and touched her backside. Y/n turned around harshly and yelled, “hey!”

The man simply let out a laugh and made a move to keep walking. The young girl could see that the attention of others were beginning to be gained. She grabbed his arm and turned him back to her.

“Don’t you ever touch me like that again!” She huffed. “If you do I’ll... I’ll..”

“You’ll do what, sweetheart?” The man smirked as his hand reached out to touch her hair.

She wished she could wolf out, right now, and destroy this man, but she couldn’t. Not if she planned to stay here.

She was about the push his hand away from her face and defend herself, but a hand had already grabbed the mans wrist. The girl followed the hand until it met the familiar face of the boy she had been traveling with.

Lee.

“Why don’t you worry less about what she’s going to do, and more about what I will if you touch her one more time.” He sneered.

The man shook himself out of Lee’s grip and raised both hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave her alone.” He said before walking away and whispering, “But look at what she’s wearing, she was practically begging for it.”

Lee made a move to attack the man, but Y/n and Mushi stopped him. Soon, all of their breathing slowed as the air became less tense.

Lee looked at the young girl.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He asked worriedly.

“No, I’m fine,” She whispered. Another lie.

Lee nodded his head before silence settled upon them again. Y/n looked down at her shoes. This place just keeps getting worse and worse. It absolutely sucks to be living here with the humans. If you hadn’t gotten yourself banished, then you wouldn’t be in this situation.

It was then that Lee spoke for the final time.

“Its not safe for you here. We’ll give you a ride to the next town over.”

The smile that spread over Y/n’s face was so bright, that it even spread slightly over to the young boy that stood up for her.

___

I am so excited for the next chapter, its going to clear a lot of things up!!

Previous | Chapter 2 | Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @hopefuloperaangelnerd @simplyfandomish @bucky-blogs

#Zuko #prince zuko #zuko x reader #atla

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happymeishappylife · 3 years

Text

Prep for the 60th: 2nd Season of Doctor Who

“One day, I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine.”

The second season of Doctor Who begins to introduce us to the fundamental concept of Doctor Who and that is change. This season we begin to see why change makes the show work and makes the show last. But of course there are tears, smiles, and memories that established with every departure and yet excitement over the possibilities that can now come with fresh faces and voices. So beginning with the TARDIS team, this is how the season started:

(From left: The Doctor, Ian Chesterton, Susan Foreman, and Barbara Wright)

And this is the TARDIS team jumping into season three:

(From left: Vicki, The Doctor, and Steven Taylor)

With the departures of Susan, Ian, and Barbara, we get a fresh new start to what it means to be a TARDIS team and travel with the Doctor. And one of things Classic Who does really well in my opinion is the blending of teams as people leave and join the team, plus there aren’t catastrophic moments when a companion departs even if you might not like it (like I did with Susan). Still with a fresh TARDIS team, let’s introduce the new companions.

Vicki Pallister is a sixteen year old girl from Earth from the 25th century. She is rescued by the Doctor, Ian, and Barbara after her spacecraft crash lands on the planet Dido and she is lied to by a convict who has killed the rest of the crew, including Vicki’s father, to avoid being locked up again. Thankfully, she gets picked up by the Doctor who fresh off the emotions of leaving his real granddaughter behind, takes Vicki lovingly into his world.

Steven Taylor, is also from the future though its unclear which era exactly he comes from. He is found on the planet Mechanus where after crash landing, he has been held prisoner by the Mechanoids for over two years on his own. Once he meets the Doctor, Barbara, Ian, and Vicki, he gets energized to escape, but its chaotic when the Daleks start battling the Mechanoids. So at first you don’t think he makes it into the TARDIS, but after one serial, I’m glad he stole away because he’s a fun guy to get to know.

The serials:

1. Planet of Giants

This serial introduces the first instance where something wrong can happen to the TARDIS and the team has to deal with it in whatever situation they find themselves in. In this case, something affects the TARDIS’ materialization that causes the TARDIS to not fully materialize at its full size, but instead at a miniature level. So while the Doctor and Susan are climbing sink drains and Ian and Barbara are dealing with giant insects and insecticide, what the team doesn’t realize is they inadvertently help prevent this extremely toxic chemical from going to the market by being present while full size humans are murdering each other over money. Overall Rating: 7/10

2. The Dalek Invasion of Earth

The Daleks have conquered Earth in the year 2164 and are in the process of extracting the core of the planet and replacing it with a machine to allow them to pilot the planet. It’s a crazy plan, but even though they’ve conquered Earth and enslaved humans to force slavery onto other humans, there entire plan falls apart when the TARDIS lands and the team finds ways to stop them and embolden the humans of Earth. But this is the first episode of goodbyes because the Doctor makes the decision to leave Susan behind so that she can explore her wish to belong somewhere and follow her dreams without him. Overall Rating: 8/10

3. The Rescue

The Doctor is surprised when they land on the planet Dido, a place he’s been before, that the inhabitants are gone and in there place is a few monsters and a crashed spaceship. He then helps discover the true reason for this, that Koquillion isn’t a true resident of Dido, but Bennet who has not only killed his crew and some of the Dido people in order to be rescued by Earth and not still be convicted of his previous crimes. Foiling his plan, the Doctor also takes Vicki Pallister into the TARDIS once she tells them she’s been orphaned due to Bennet’s actions. Plus missing his granddaughter, the Doctor immediately latches onto Vicki who is need of care. Overall Rating: 8/10

4. The Romans

After leaving Dido, the team takes a break in ancient Italy enjoying a month’s vacation in an empty house and living life of Romans. But eager for adventure the Doctor and Vicki set off for Rome and quickly get caught up in the affairs of Cesar Nero’s court when the Doctor is mistaken for a famed musician. But instead of continued life in luxury, Ian and Barbara get kidnapped for a slave trader, Ian going to hard labor in a boat and Barbara to the court of Cesar Nero as the Empress’ pretty handmaid. Ian of course breaks few and chases after her and there’s a great sequence of all four being in close proximity and never seeing each other. Plus we learn the Doctor is the reason behind Cesar Nero’s idea for burning down all of Rome. Overall Rating: 10/10

5. The Web Planet

I know this is one of the beloved serial from Classic Who, but I’m sorry, I can’t. Between the constant beeping of the Zarbi, the weird speaking and hand motions of the Menoptra, and the bizarre enemy of the Animus who makes webs but is some ethereal being, I just can’t get on board with it. Plus while the scattering of the companions in other episodes is okay, this one just feels unnecessary and ridiculous when the final scene is all four coming together in the Animus chamber to then defeat it. Plus, how do any of these creatures actually live and breathe on this planet? Overall Rating: 3/10

6. The Crusade

Having just recently read the book novelization of this serial, I was happy to rewatch it again, though it is disappointing that two of the episodes are missing. The show itself tells a good story of how the TARDIS team lands in the middle of the crusades, explores the two factions between Richard the Lionheart and Saladdin, but also was just a good watch this snippet of history and don’t get too involved with the major events. Sure Barbara is captured and the story revolves around Ian rescuing her, but for the most part the TARDIS team takes a backseat as we explore Richard’s weariness to go home and his trials to try and end these long wars. Overall Rating: 8/10

7. The Space Museum

This is the second serial that explores the problem of something weird happening to the TARDIS, when it materializes a few moments ahead of it actually physically materializing and gives the team a glance at a possible future in which the four are turned into exhibits for the space museum they stumble upon. Fearful of accidentally ending up this way, they instead find themselves running from the keepers of the museum and in Vicki’s case, starting a revolution against them to try and prevent the outcome. It’s one of the more suspenseful early stories, mainly because the Doctor almost does get turned into nothing but a model, but also when he does sneak inside an empty Dalek shell to escape his captors, we see that silly side of him come out. Overall Rating: 9/10

8. The Chase

In probably the most confusing Dalek story ever, we go on quite the journey to avoid the Dalek’s chase of the TARDIS team. It starts on the planet Aridius, ends on the planet Mechanus, and somehow manages to go to New York for the first time, the Mary Celeste ship, and a haunted horror house where Frankenstein destroys a Dalek. We do learn some interesting things about the Daleks and the TARDIS in this episode, but its also notable for two reasons. The first is we meet Steven Taylor and though its unclear, we learn in the next episode he steals away on the TARDIS to avoid being stuck on Mechanus. The second is it’s the serial where Barbara and Ian leave the TARDIS once they realize the Daleks’ time machine can get them back to London in their own time. Overall Rating: 6/10

9. The Time Meddler

We meet another Gallifreyan and the first besides the Doctor and Susan when the Doctor lands just before the Battle of Hastings. We also learn more about the Doctor’s people (though not their species or planet yet) and that there are principles to Time Travel which the Monk has no issue exploiting for his own amusement, but the Doctor is strict about. This leads to the Doctor finding ways to prevent the Monk’s plan of destroying the invading Viking fleet while also removing a key component in the Monk’s TARDIS so he can’t meddle through time anymore. Overall Rating: 9/10

Adding to our previous lists, items in bold are things we learned in Season 2:

Historical Figures:

Marco Polo

Kublai Khan

Maximillen Robespierre

Napoleon Bonaparte

Ceasar Nero

King Richard the Lionheart

Things we learn about the Doctor:

Pioneer among gallifreyans

Ian only refers to one heart being okay “his heart is okay”

Knows three dimensional graph geometry

Things I’ve learned about the TARDIS:

It has a computer that reads and feed data to compute information about where to go next

It has a food generator where you pick flavors to be added to a nutrient bar

The lock comes away from the door and has 27 different mechanisms, getting one wrong might melt the lock

Field dimensions can be damaged by breaking down doors

The TARDIS is made of material that is impervious to Dalek shots

The Doctor does not have a Mark 4

Things we learn about Gallifrey:

It’s quite like Earth, but at night the sky burns orange and the leaves on the trees are a bright silver

Timelords we meet:

The Monk

People the Doctor has supposedly met before:

Pyrrho

Henry VIII

James Watt

#prep for the 60th #doctor who #season 2

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oumaheroes · 3 years

Text

Earthbound 1/?

Summary:

Centuries after humanity fled a dying Earth and found sanctuary in the stars, the planet has healed enough to support mankind once more. For some, there is something more than curiosity; memories from another life whisper history in familiar voices, calling them home.

'He closes his eyes and thinks about blue flowers and large statues of stone, of ships and red coats flapping over a green meadow.'

Part 2 Part 3

……………………………………………………………………

Chapter 1: Scattered Amongst The Stars

Alfred is six. It was his birthday last Tuesday and he got to have a really big party and it was really really cool, but the coolest thing ever was that he got an e-tab from his Ma. Everyone at school already has an e-tab -as a July baby he's one of the youngest- so now he can finally join in with the special classes that they have and play all of those games at lunch time.

Alfred doesn't like feeling left out. It's not nice, Ma says, when you don't include people, so that means that the people who play games on their e-tabs when they know he doesn't have one are being mean on purpose and that really hurts. Except now, now he can join in and be their friend again and won't have to sit alone at his table when it's interactive e-tab time.

It's not real learning, Pa says. He didn't want Alfred to have one, says that it rots your brains and makes you lazy, and says that the e-tab time is just 'enrichment', it's not part of the curriculum because they're not learning anything, just downloading and watching stuff. Still, Ma must have talked him around because on Tuesday Alfred opened the box and there it was, all for him. There's some games on it, from Grandpa, and Ma had uploaded some of his favourite movies for him to watch as soon as he'd synced his mind up. Pa got there too, he must have done, because there's also some files on 'Earth History', 'The Fall', and one about extinct animals which Alfred really doesn't wanna read but Pa's been mentioning at least one of them every dinner since so he probably should.

He goes into school and begins to chatter happily to his friend Ben as soon as he sees him about 'Zip Blast', the current school-yard fad, and about how he can't wait to sync up and play because he'd been practising over the weekend and he thinks he's kinda good now.

Ben looks uncomfortable. 'Oh, I don't think we're playing that one any more.'

'Huh? But...' Alfred stops and looks at Ben in disbelief, 'but Friday you said it was the best ever!'

'Well it was,' Ben concedes, reluctantly, 'but now there's the new 'Rock-ite' out so we played that over the weekend.'

Alfred's heart sinks. 'We?'

His friend has the grace to look as apologetic as a six year old can look about these matters but nothing more than that and at recess Alfred is alone once more. He tells himself it's okay, he doesn't care anyway but it's a half-hearted lie at best and he doesn't try to kid himself for too long. Instead, he decides he may as well sync up one of those stuffy files Pa put on the e-tab to pass the time and nibbles a cookie to keep himself entertained.

His teacher finds him gormless, ten minutes later. His eyes are glazed as he stares unblinkingly at the wall and his cookie, one chunk missing, lies forlorn on the table next to his slack left hand but his brain is more full and awake than it's ever been. Information about a long dead planet far far away pound and crash in his head and as soon as the data file has been properly synced he reaches out for his tab and loads up another.

At eight, Alfred has become that kid. No matter what conversation he gets into or who he talks to, if there is an opening or an opportunity he will bring up Earth and once that's accomplished he can go on and on for hours. He's downloaded every possible data file he can find about the entire subject: life before the Fall, the Fall itself, and the human race's desperate escape across the stars and for him it's still never enough. There's always another e-file to sync: about ancient nations, about old sciences and religions, about old wars and songs and dances and food; every second he can spare he gives over to tales of the past woven from the binary of today.

They are a scattered people, he likes to tell his listeners, there are hundreds of us, strewn across galaxies and planets and ships and no one knows how many of us there are any more because the Fall ripped apart alliances and histories so we don't even know who else is out there to find. Everything was lost, everything; the history, the stories, the places, the-

At this point, someone usually either changes the topic of conversation or he realises that they've walked away and left him babbling to himself, his eyes shut as he imagines the flight to freedom that happened too long before he was born. Adults are usually nicer and listen for longer, but they don't mean it either and by pretending to be interested in what he has to say they only serve to hurt him more.

He just can't understand, why does no one else find this interesting? Why does no one else dream of where they as a species came from and long to see it for themselves? Alfred would do anything to feel the wind on his face, to have breeze in his hair and the sun touch his skin because although he could play in a holo-room or go on a special holo-holiday it's not real and Alfred longs to just feel it. The sun on his planet is strong but the dense material of the domes blocks it from actually reaching him; he can't feel the warmth. At school he's learnt that it's too hot out there anyway and he'd die, but according to his data files the sun should be warm and gentle and fill up summer days and spring afternoons, so he can't quite feel the danger as much as he probably should. There's no air outside the domes either and what's the point of feeling the sun without a breeze, so he's not as sad as he could have been. It wouldn't ever compare to mankind's old sun, the sun in the stories he's growing up on.

He sometimes spends his recess and lunch at school rushing about as fast as his legs can carry him. Trying to get his own wind in such space is hard, but not impossible and if he focuses hard enough on his self-made breeze he can imagine that he's running over rocks and cliffs and weaving in and out of long gone animals that only the sky can remember. If this doesn't work, he syncs with his e-files to learn about something else, he's started to get into the people recently and likes the stories about normal stuff the most. Food, clothes, toys. Relatable things that he can see in his own home and use to imagine that he's been transported back through time and space.

There are often pictures of houses and Alfred marvels as how big they are and how much stuff those people must have had, collected form all the many places they must have seen. You can't get wood any more, but maybe if he asks Pa nicely he can get him some of that building material they use for making the new domes and he can practise making his own, just to see if he can.

He spends his weekends tinkering in his room with old bits of plastic, metal and cables and every now and again he plugs in a new circuit board to the plug sockets in his room and sees if he can make the lights turn on or off from somewhere else. Last weekend he built a fan and managed to make it blow. He can sync up a sound file from Earth and imagine that he's in a town somewhere way back when and there's a breeze on his face and there's someone who wants to talk to him.

Alfred is fifteen and is the best engineer in his school. He specialised early -he'd always had a knack for building things and he's good with numbers- and now this is what he's known for. Alfred can look at a electrical hub or a circuit board and immediately he can see either what's wrong or how to improve it and this makes him valuable. He's been building and fiddling with this sort of stuff in his room for ages but now it's finally cool, people actually want him to do that now. He sees it as a lucky thing, that he was bullied so much for it previously, because now he can see how much bullshit people like to throw when they want you to do something, how much an opinion of someone can change depending on their age and talent. Too good too young: weird and a nerd, you're wasting your time. Then you hit the right age and suddenly you're very experimental, very mature, it's good to know what you want in life. But ah, still young enough not to know your worth, you'll fix this for me for free, yes? If he wasn't as good as he is, he thinks, how valuable would they think I am? The answer scares him because he knows what it is and knows how thin the line he treads is; there are others like him, don't forget.

What even is he, without the skills of his hands?

He is seventeen. Alfred hates it, but Ma could use the help and Pa's not getting any younger, so he accepted an offer not too long ago for a entry level job in the government engineering department. It is an amazing offer for someone so young and fresh out of school, he knows that, but as much as he enjoys what he does the days wear him out and he spends less time listening to his e-files and more time building the dreams of others far more affluent than he.

He thinks he's doing okay for a while. The days whittle by easily and he starts to build up a nice savings pile that he uses to help out his parents every now and again. But he's nothing special. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of kids just like him on this planet who have been fed on a diet of strict, specialised schooling meant to produce only the best and Alfred knows that the only thing which sets him apart from the many many many others is his ability to just keep going. There is no safety in what he does at his age, no net to catch him if he slips up, so he begins to take on private jobs at the weekend to build up his CV further and get his name out there, making the chance of falling just that bit smaller. Before he realises it it's been a month since he last had the time set aside to listen to an e-file and that hits him, hard. He'd never had to set aside time before. Hell, he can't remember when he'd last done anything other than go to work, come home to sleep, and repeat.

He's struck by the monotony of it all. He can't see a difference between his life and that of his dad's, or his dad's friends, or anyone he knows, for that matter. Is this all there is? Is this all anyone does? When is there ever a break? Then, he gets it. There won't be a break. As soon as you can't keep up in this crazy race he's in, you're worthless. He's kind of been kidding himself, almost, that there'd be an end to it all, like a video game where you complete the level and then suddenly it's free play. You work hard to get a reward of, of something, or at least you can stop worrying and panicking about being left behind. There is no free play, he realises, it just keeps on going until you can't play any more because life has ground out your energy and sucked the vitality from your bones.

He goes running; pounding his feet on the treadmill he sucks in the humid air around him and imagines than he's running through an old Earthen jungle, dodging trees and leaping over crags in the forest floor. But there's no wind, and Earth refuses to come alive.

Alfred is eighteen. A message came through from Earth, old true Earth, that a new colony there is doing well and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it since, thinking and dreaming about what he'd do if he ever went there, if he ever set up his life there instead of here. He could...no. There is no safety in history, he knows. There is no definite chance that anyone would want him to do that. Besides, there's no potential for definite growth, no stable career plan because you can't guarantee a career on digging up the scanty past of a long dead planet. But no matter how big of a safety net he could make for himself in engineering he feels no passion about any of it and the idea of spending his days encapsulated in this metal world of domes and tunnels makes him feel cold.

There's something that calls him in his dreams and whispers over the wind in his mind and this builds and builds in his feet until he can't keep them still any longer. One more look out of the window and up at the stars and he's gonna blow, he needs to get out and go go go because if he doesn't then he's gonna sink in this place.

Before he can stop himself he's bought a ticket and finds himself packing hurriedly late at night when his parents are asleep, stuffing clothes into the only bag he only which is far too small for this sort of thing but who the fuck travels anywhere these days? He hasn't got time to be better at this so he crouches under his bed and reaches in, all the way back until his hand scrapes the wall and he finds his old fan that he built when he was eight. He puts it on his bed, places his e-tab next to it with a message of what he's done and that's that.

He slips out without waking his parents, because saying goodbye would only be too hard and he knows that he'd end up changing his mind if they spoke even one word to him, so he says his farewells in silence and disappears.

................................................................................................................................

Peter is five and he sits upon his mother's knee, playing with the buttons on her shirt. She's with other adults and they're all talking about something that he doesn't really understand but they all sound sad and the air feels heavy so he keeps quiet like a good boy should and thinks about other things to keep himself busy. He thinks about the e-book his nanny got him last Christmas, the one with the pretty pictures, and thinks that it would be nice to live inside that book, with the greens of grass that he's never touched before. He wonders if grass is hard or soft and he spends so long thinking of this that that night, when he is sleeping, he dreams that he is running on grass and it is prickly, tickling his feet.

There is a voice in the dream, singing him the story but it is not Nanny's voice, nor Mummy's or Daddy's, but another man's and the lilt of his voice sings a language Peter doesn't know but it is a good voice for story telling and so the dream is vivid and touchable. He flies through the grass, feet pounding at earth instead of metal and the voice chuckles, deep and throaty. It makes him feel safe.

He wakes up because his Mummy is stroking his hair and forgets; school teaches him about how the air system in his dome works. Grass isn't as important as breathing.

He is eight and they are learning about the old Earthen languages. There used to be many, his teachers says, and each language held a culture, a history and a soul of a people and there used to be hundreds of them on Earth before it Fell. The teacher is old; his words are flat and there is no passion in his tone, but a thrill runs up Peter's arms as he imagines so much more. From the nothing he is given his brain decides to give those dead languages life and all of a sudden there are bursts of sound echoing inside his head. The teacher moves on, the class sits bored, but Peter can hear consonants clash against teeth and tongue and fricatives slip between breathy vowels. There are phonemes which glide between dipthongs and tripthongs to bound and fall out of the hundreds of mouths of hundreds of people; whispers of a past no one can hear tell stories long forgotten.

There is a clap very close to his head which scares all of the sounds away. His teacher looms over him, frowning in exasperation.

'Again, Peter?' he says, 'Stop daydreaming, boy. I asked you a question.'

'Er...' his classmates snicker and he feels his ears go red. 'I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't listening.'

'That much was obvious.'

Peter's cheeks burn hotter and he stares at his e-tab, focusing on the light of the screen to stop him from crying.

Before too long the lesson changes, then the day ends and he's allowed to go home. He walks alone through the corridors and exits the school dome, coming into the shuttle bus bay. He's a big boy now, he can take the shuttle bus all by himself and he has a special card to prove it. Weaving in and out of the other children, he hurries to where his bus is docked and scrambles inside to rush to his favourite seat, hopping up and placing his bag on the seat beside him. He likes to sit alone, because then he can stare out of the window and dream for as long as the journey will let him without worrying about talking to someone. Not that anyone wants to anyway, the other children say he's not got a brain because he would rather focus on the story in his head than on their silly games.

Nanny doesn't mind, she says it's good for people to dream and says that he goes off to somewhere called 'Neverland' whilst she pinches his cheeks and calls him her little Peter Pan. But when he gets home Nanny isn't there, Mummy and Daddy are and they're huddled in front of the large e-screen in the sitting room, faces pinched in worry.

He drops his bag by the kitchen table and goes to join them. There is a man on the screen speaking about their air ventilation system and a 'catastrophic degradation' and about some big numbers with a scientist nodding seriously to his left.

'What do we do now?' His mother's voice is hushed, fragile.

His father raises his eyes to her and shakes his head slowly. 'Debbie... you heard what he said. The planet's no longer viable.' His eyes flick towards Peter, suddenly aware that he's there too, and he smiles although it doesn't reach his eyes. 'Hey Pete. Do you mind doing your homework in your room today?'

Peter could ask why, but he sees that his Daddy doesn't want him to and Mummy looks like she's going to cry, so he glances once more at the screen and nods. He leaves them with the scary looking numbers and tips his books onto his bed. That night he dreams of waves crashing against his legs and he tastes the salt on his lip when he wakes.

At nine, there's some breaking news. Earth, of all things Earth, is habitable once more and it can't come at a better time. Peter sits on his favourite sofa at Nan's house, with his father having lunch, when the planet-wide intercom coughs its way to life and briefly deafens them all before the sound adjusts ever so slightly.

'ATTENTION ALL. PRIMARY SUPPORT SYSTEMS FOR THE SOUTH SIDE HAVE SUFFERED AN IRREPERABLE MALFUNCTION. BACKUP SYSTEMS WILL HOLD FOR APPROXIMATLY 3 HOURS AND 45 MINUTES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL; MAKE YOUR WAY TO YOUR EVACUATION POINTS.'

Then, it falls silent once more.

South side, that's them. Peter immediately feels as though he's going to be sick and by the look on his dad's face he's not alone. Once one half of the planet goes the other will surely follow. It's something they've all been expecting and planning for for years, but it's far, far too soon, they should have more time than this; they're not ready to go and the government's not even started the evacuation programme yet. His Nan shoots a look at his father from where she's sat in her armchair. It's a look Peter can't really read because there's something there that he subconsciously doesn't want to acknowledge.

'Earth?' Her voice is a thin whisper.

His father nods gravely. 'We got them Mum, the tickets came yesterday.' Peter's heart briefly lifts at the prospect, a longing that's deep and euphoric but then it crashes quickly. 'But...'

His Nan smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. 'I know.'

Slowly, with growing horror, Peter understands. 'Wait,' he whips his head back and forth between the two of them, 'Nanny, where-'

'Don't worry, Peter,' she gets up and goes to kneel in front of where he's frozen in his chair, hands digging nails into the old material, 'I'll get on one of the other evacuation ships.'

'But you're not-,' his eyes burn and his voice is breaking but he doesn't look away, 'but you're not with us, why aren't you coming with us.'

'Oh Peter, my little Peter Pan,' she hugs him tight, pulling him in to her chest and he grips his hands in her shirt and tries to take in as much of her as he can.

'Mum we- we have to go.' Dad doesn't sound much better and before Peter can register much his Dad is hugging his Nan with a funny tight look on his face, then he's being pulled by the arm and out of the door, stumbling over his feet as he tries to keep up.

A terse shuttle bus later they get home to his mother already throwing their things into cases and boxes, haphazardly grabbing at e-frames and e-tabs to squash them and their memories safe under piles of their clothes. Peter could help, should help, but all he can do it sit numbly on the floor and cry whilst his life is collected and contained into a few measly bags. The rest will be left.

It doesn't take too long, thankfully, as Peter doesn't know what's worse, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible or wanting to stay and cling to the remnants of the only life he's ever known. As they make their way to the loading bays for the Earth-bound travellers he blearily finds himself thinking about what classes he'll miss in school tomorrow, but then he remembers Nanny and the ordeal starts anew as reality sets back in.

His parents are focused on more practical things.

They stand in line, their few pieces on luggage already being loaded on, and wait to board the ship they were assigned to only yesterday. His mother speaks under her breath, as if she is afraid to talk too loudly for fear of jinxing something. 'The Earth ships aren't even ready. They won't have enough food let alone rooms.'

His father shakes his head and slips his hand down to intertwine with hers. 'They must have known something like this could happen at any time, they've been predicting it for years. If anything, the rooms may not be ready but the agricultural sections will be.' He looks determinedly at the back of the head of the man in front of them and swallows. 'They only give out tickets if there's room. We'll be fine.'

Peter's mother glances his way meaningfully, and then back to his father.

'Jo, there're not enough ships; no one was ready in time. They can't have planned for everyone.' She bites the inside of her cheek, one hand on Peter's shoulder. Her fingers dig in, hard, but he doesn't try to shrug her off. He can barely feel it.

His father understands. 'She'll call us when she can.' Then, the line moves and they lurch forward together, huddled close.

Just before the door, where the tickets are being checked and where the din of the engines roaring into life starts to become uncomfortable, his father takes one last desperate look at out of the window at the distant domes of their colony, nestled in the dust. He taps an impatient rhythm against the tiled floor. 'She'll call.'

She never does.

................................................................................................................................

Francis is three and his daddy has just left Mummy.

'He went to fight,' she says as she strokes his hair. This confuses him because fighting is bad and you're only allowed to fight if someone tries to fight you first and no one has been nasty to Daddy that he's seen.

Mummy doesn't answer but continues to stroke his hair, humming softly a tune she sings to him every night before bed that sounds old and sad and sleepy, so he just nods and rests his head heavily against her chest.

He doesn't see his Daddy again.

He is ten when he realises that there never was any war. The notion strikes him dumb one day in the kitchen as he distantly listens to the news playing through the announcer when he helps wash up after dinner. The announcer is speaking about something banal, a fashion show maybe, but Francis is staring out of the window and up at the sky, up at the stars that push through the daytime's thin atmosphere. He doesn't know what caused him to start this train of thought, but once it's started his brain quickly pieces together the puzzle that it has ignored all of this time.

At school they were taught about wars, about age old battles with guns and swords and metal where blood was spilt over land and the wealth it contained. But, there hasn't been any fighting here. He scrubs a glass, sponge squeaking against the side. And even if there was fighting somewhere far away, his dad would surely still be able to write or visit, or come back after all this time. And more importantly, if there was a war going on now then surely he would have learnt about it at school, rather than learning about age old political struggles on the human-ruined home world.

His mother takes the glass from his slack grip. 'Daydreaming?'

He shakes himself to and looks at her. Turned away and out of the window her face is suddenly older and oddly clearer than he remembers it being, she looks like a person rather than just his mother and that's a scary thought. It's as though the wash of childhood has momentarily slipped away and he's now aware of both it and the harsh brushstrokes of reality. She's a person and feels things, just like he does. So it hurts, that she lied, and it will hurt him for a long time because he doesn't know why but cannot for the life of him bring himself to ask her. Francis is good at reading people and he knows that this isn't something he should ask about, so turns back to the dirty dishes and doesn't.

When Francis is fifteen there is a war, of sorts. The planet nearest to them, the one they rely on the most for trade, switches governmental policies and refuses to continue their current agreements. This results in a breakdown of communication and heightened tension between the two colonies, each bristling angrily at the offence yet unwilling to be the first to initiate anything rash. There is minor rationing imposed upon Francis' planet until trade is re-established as well as a draft of specialisation training implemented, just in case. He's unaffected by the rationing; the draft is a different story. Just in case this trade block becomes permanent, his planet needs to be prepared to become fully self sufficient in everything from science, to food, to art, to the army.

The block stays in place and tensions rise. Against his wishes, Francis is assigned a scientific draft. He is now seventeen and knows he needs to be given something but he'd prefer agriculture or education to research, if he could have the choice, or the arts if he's allowed to dream. He isn't. He brain is good, his grades are high and thus he is far more useful to the cause working on the advancement of his planet than working to help feed it.

A few days after his birthday and a month after his posting letter arrives, his mother rides with him on a shuttle to his boarding station. He will try out four different areas: mechanics, medicine, biology, and physics, then he will be assigned to what he works with best, where he can produce the best work possible. But Francis can't think of anything worse than being stuck in a lab all day, shutters drawn and devoid of all personality. Even worse, he's heard the rumours that have managed to float back from those who have graduated and knows that once he boards this ship there's no escaping the life he'll be moulded into. The programme is four years long and then he will be placed into a job where he will stay until he dies. At twenty one he will have no other skills for work other than what he will acquire at the science facility, there is no swapping careers afterwards. He wants to do so much, there is so much that he loves to do, and with each passing shuttle stop his heart grows more frantic, fighting his brain which has accepted the inevitable.

He gets physics. He calls his mother to howl down the phone once, just once, before he realises the futility of doing so; nothing can or will change. Accept it.

At twenty, a year before his training would end, there is finally a truce. Trade resumes and Francis finally tastes sugar after five years but now, after so long, the taste is too much. Not fully qualified yet too old to be automatically accepted into another programme, Francis is in limbo. There isn't much point in him continuing his training, there are more than enough specialists now and not enough jobs to give them, so there isn't anything for him to do. It's odd, now that there is nothing to work towards he feels empty but at the same time everything is just too much. He returns home and his mother fusses and tries to talk to him, tries to get him to come out of his room and sit with her and he did, at first, but the longer he's home the shorter his resistance is and the longer the 'breaks' are in his room.

Emotions seem to be harder to process without a goal, that or he never had many to begin with and without something to distract him from that notion he's finally noticing how few he has. Either way, other people are small insignificant creatures who worry about such useless, banal things. Who did what, with who and where. Did you know, her son the doctor? Well, he's a you know what now and- ugh. Francis can no longer take it.

He doesn't really see this as a problem. He feels as though he's risen above other people and finally understands that such things are not worth his time; why worry, after all, about what job to get. Why worry about whether or not someone likes you. Every day, regardless of what they do, the planet will spin and the domes will reflect the same bleak, churning sky and Francis realises that he's trapped here, by this life and that his life means nothing. None of their lives do, it's all the same; nowhere new to go, nothing new to do. Pick a job, do the job. Come home, go back. Retire. Die.

So he sits in his room, because if he talks to his mother or to anyone else he is reminded that somehow he's supposed to care about it, that life here is supposed to matter to him just as it matters to everyone else. His mother will mention this or that and he'll have to either fake the responses she wants, or not and upset her and neither option sounds pleasing to him.

After years of monotony and training suddenly he is permitted to express again and it's like he's forgotten how, the parts rusty after all the disuse. There are too many emotions and he finds himself forgetting to use them or using the wrong ones because he can't do them automatically any more, for some reason, and reactions that call for an understanding of nuance are just lost to him. Very quickly everything is too much. Food, heat, depth, people, concepts, everything.

He hides away but then they stop becoming too much and they shrink and shrivel up and become nothing at all he can feel how empty he is. Nothing can fill the void he's got because he doesn't even know why it's there and he can scarcely tell that there's a problem in the first place. He does knows he's got a problem though, really, knows how serious it is by the way his mother watches him with fearful eyes and baleful glances. She tiptoes tentatively around the house, carefully softening her words and her gentleness feels like a pressure cooker slowly but surely building something that's going to get bigger and hotter and harder to make go away. She avoids talking about it, about how Francis feels or doesn't, and by doing so the problem is allowed to grow, unchecked. Francis doesn't have to act any more, doesn't have to pretend, and so the feelings of apathy grow and grow until they swallow him whole and all he can bring himself to do is sit and stare and the sky, a dark choking yellow.

It feels heavy to look at, like a lid covering everything in his life, all potential, all future, all growth. It just festers and sinks lower and lower still and he sits and watches it for days before he's realised he's done so.

When Francis is twenty-two, his mother breaks. Not that she herself breaks, but her patience does.

'I can't do this any more.' she says. There are tears on her face and Francis watches one slide off and fall onto her collar. 'You need to go.'

Francis appraises her properly, meeting her eyes. She flinches at his gaze but remains resolute in her decision, though her bottom lip quivers. 'There's nothing for you here, we both know that. You don't want to be here, so you need to go.'

'I don't want to be anywhere.' he replies.

She gives him a watery smile. 'I know. That's why, you might as well see if you can want to be somewhere else.' She lifts up her arm and shows him her e-tab, the translucent screen showing a brightly coloured ticket. 'I've bought you a flight. It's Earth, it was declared habitable a few weeks ago.'

Francis knows he should feel something, this is one of those instances when he knows that he should be feeling something but he can't quite imagine what emotion he should give her.

She doesn't seem to expect one. 'It's one way. And this, this is all of my savings, Francis.' Her eyes are wide and her face is suddenly so very very old. 'If you don't want to be any more, at least make that decision once you've seen this. You can't go without seeing this, after all. See this, see it for me and then you can decide, okay?'

Suddenly she looks shocked and runs forward to embrace him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and knocking her e-tab into his face. The garish purple of the ticket burns his eyes. 'Oh Francis.' She sobs into his shoulder and clutches tightly into his shirt. 'Oh Francis it's okay, you can cry if you want to.'

Oh.

He's crying.

................................................................................................................................

Ludwig is six, and is sick again. The doctors don't know what's wrong with him; they know what's causing it at least but they have no idea why. He can't keep food down and every time he tries to stand the world pitches and swims and he can't keep his balance so he never manages to stay up for long before he bonelessly falls to the floor, where he feels no better.

It's the gravity, the doctors say, for some reason he's affected by the gravity. The artificial gravity that he's known all his life; it's as if he's just climbed aboard and his body suffers from relapses where it just can't acclimatise. Where it suddenly realises that something's not quite right and rebels against him for a week or so. This his family already knows, but his mother isn't satisfied with such a lacklustre answer so she takes him to a different doctor every time he suffers another attack just in case one of them is even marginally more competent than the last. These 'episodes', as his mother likes to call them, don't happen all that often, but he seems to have one every ten months or so and they are regular enough to annoy his mother to no end. Ludwig doesn't really know if she's annoyed that no one can fix him or with him himself, Gilbert won't say and normally his big brother talks to pretend that he knows something so his silence worries Ludwig the most.

Mother is a very important person with a very important job: she's a governor of the space station upon which they live and it is very important that Ludwig remembers this. So, when he's laying in bed clutching at his belly and desperately clenching his eyes shut to minimise the swaying, his friends at school think that he is away for a special training academy. Because can you just imagine, the governor of a space station's son being space sick?

His father doesn't like to call it that because he thinks it's degrading so his mother doesn't, when she thinks Ludwig can't hear, anyway, but Ludwig knows that's what the kids at school would say so he happily keeps mum because it's easier than lying. They don't talk to him much besides, they find him too cold and distant but that's because he's so scared of disgracing his mother further that he can't quite relax fully.

When Ludwig is thirteen his mother, after exhausting all doctors aboard their large floating colony, finally accepts that it's unlikely that this small problem of his is going to go away. Her way of dealing with it is to pretend that it just doesn't happen; during an attack Ludwig is sent to his room where he stays painfully alone with only his books for company whilst she busies herself with her new campaigns. She's running for director now, aiming as high as she can go and there's no room for weak, feeble Ludwig all the way up there.

His brother tries his best to keep him entertained and happy during these times, but Gilbert is healthy, strong, smart; he's everything that Ludwig should also be able to grow up to be and their parents have sent him off to expensive schools which means that he's more often away from home than not. Sometimes Ludwig wonders if they've sent him away because they want Gilbert to be the all around best he can be, or if it's to distance him as much as they can from Ludwig. It's almost as if they're worried that Ludwig will taint him, or that maybe Gilbert will grow too attached to him and distract himself from what's really important. That Ludwig will anchor him down.

At five years older it's highly unlikely that Ludwig will be the one doing the influencing, but his brother, despite hardly seeing each other and such a large age difference, does seem to genuinely care for him. During one particular attack, when Ludwig is eighteen, Gilbert is home from university; it is almost Christmas and his family are preparing to travel to where his grandparents live on the other side of the space station, where they'll spend the holiday. Of course, it is now that his body decides to betray him.

He, his parents, and his brother are gathered around the large dining room table finishing off dinner. It is tense. Mostly it is Gilbert who talks because despite their mother's cool demeanour and their father's lack of interest he seems to always have something to say to fill the silence and speaks easily. Even with the response he gets, or lack of it, he seems honestly unperturbed and remains cheerful, somehow managing to both eat and speak without seeming impolite. As much as he loves his brother, Ludwig is also supremely jealous.

He stares at his fork, contemplating which point in the evening would be best to ask if he could slip away, when his body decides for him. His stomach swoops, his ears pop and the table tilts alarmingly. He clenches the edge in panic to remain upright and the noise alerts his mother, who looks up from her dessert in irritation.

'Ludwig, we are going away tomorrow.'

'M- mother-'

His mother sighs and looks at his father, who sharply stares back. 'Dear?'

His father grunts and spears another forkful of fruit pie. 'They're expecting him to come.'

'But the photographers-'

'What do you want me to do, Hilda?'

Meanwhile, Ludwig has still not been dismissed and cannot now seem to find the words to ask for permission himself without spewing all over the fancy silverware. He doubts that that will make the situation better, somehow. Gilbert notices and stands, attracting his parents' attention.

'I'll take Luddy to his room.'

'Darling...' their mother tries to say something, but it's what she's trying not to say that comes across the loudest.

Gilbert ignores her and walks around the table, slowly helping Ludwig to his feet, then away from the table and swiftly towards a bathroom. They make it just in time. Gilbert pats him comfortingly on the back and rubs soothing circles into his shoulders until he's finished, then hands him a glass of water.

'So, they're still arseholes, huh?'

Ludwig snaps his head up in horror, but this is a bad idea because the image of Gilbert swims before him and he has to shut his eyes.

'Don't call them that.' He finally manages, weakly.

Gilbert tuts. 'What the fuck did they feed you with in order to churn your personality out.'

Ludwig lays his head on the cool tiles of the floor and groans inwardly at how nice the feeling is. 'They're not arseholes.'

'Yeah, and my name's Shirley.'

Ludwig cracks open an eye, but Gilbert's not joking. He is, for once, deadly serious. 'How'd you put up with them Lud?'

Ludwig shrugs and gives a small shake of his head. 'They're our parents, Gil. They still care for me. Besides, I'm not exactly making it easy for them.'

Gilbert looks disgusted. 'You're their fucking son, arsehole. They're supposed to take care of you. They ain't even doing that right are they?' Gilbert runs a hand through his shock of white hair and bits his bottom lip whilst he shakes his head. 'Look at how they treat you versus me.'

'Yes, but I'm not exactly-'

'But nothing!' Gilbert raises his voice slightly and swallows. When he speaks again, he's much quieter, back under control. 'Have they got you in a university programme yet?'

Ludwig's silence is answer enough and Gilbert sighs deeply before brushing back Ludwig's sweaty fringe. 'There's nothing wrong with you Lud.' His brother sounds so very sad. 'Fuck, there's nothing wrong with you at all. They know full well that if they put you on a planet rather than this floating heap of rust that you'll probably be alright. And have they? Have they fuck.'

Ludwig wants to argue against him, wants to say something to stand up for himself if not for their parents but his eyes are suddenly burning and his throat is choked up. He knew a long time ago that his parents had given up on him, but to hear it from someone else hurts more sharply than anything he tells himself.

There's an odd companionable silence for a while; Ludwig lays still with his face against the floor and his brother's hand carding through his hair so he almost misses what Gilbert says next.

'I was gonna wait till Boxing Day, but I've got us tickets for Earth.'

Ludwig tenses and holds his breath. Gilbert continues. 'I was gonna wake you up on the 26th and take you away with me, but I want to tell you now instead, cause you look like shit. We're gonna get out of here Luddy; I've always wanted to take you to a planet and what better one is there than the original, huh?'

'You, I- you can't- what about your studies? The internship you've got?' Ludwig manages to stammer out, opening his eyes.

Gilbert brushes his concerns aside. 'I never liked medicine, really. I've always wanted to go to a planet, so I'm mega up for it.'

Ludwig knows he should say no, knows that he shouldn't take up the offer. He'd be denying his brother so much, he'd be exactly what their parents worried he'd be because he'll only drag Gilbert down and down and down like a heavy lead weight and ruin all of his chances at a good life.

But Ludwig wants to be selfish. He reaches out and clasps onto Gilbert's hand, squeezing it tightly. 'Gil...'

Gilbert flashes him a grin and winks. 'I know, right? How awesome am I?'

#my writing #hetalia #aph #APH England #APH France #aph america #aph germany #aph prussia #aph sealand #aph canada #aph fruk #fruk #au #sci-fi #hws fruk #oh no what am i doing #something is cooking that's for sure

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dangan-meme-palace · 4 years

Text

PokeV3 AU – Boys!

Rantaro

Flying Type

His theme is loosely based on travel.

He got delibird because he canonly likes to bring back souvenirs. Mantyke was his first pokemon and hes been using it to travel around on the water. The rest he got just by traveling to different parts of the world.

Rantaro is a traveler for sure, but when he finally settles down I imagine he would become a pokemon breeder and he studies for that while traveling.

His family is different than canon so heres some info on them too:

His dad is like a green haired Saxton Hale. Used to adventure a lot but then settled and became a business man, and a surprisingly good one at that. He owns the poke center chain and a certain mansion where he let's people visit and battle the staff for fun. Absolutely loves the fact that his son is adventurous like he was and will pay for whatever he needs. Not worried about Rantaro because he turned out all right, so why wouldn't his son? Adventure runs in his veins haha! He's just a happy go lucky guy that really loves his kids and supports them.

His mom is VERY worried about Rantaro in stark contrast to her husband, and gets mad that her husband is so carefree about their own child. She waits impatiently for the day Rantaro finally settles down so she doesn't have to worry anymore. Very doting and cute!

His sisters arent lost, they're the poke center nurses!

Ryoma

Fighting Type

His theme is competition and teamwork!

Ryoma used to be one of the youngest people in the elite four until his pokemon got stolen by the antagonist team. He barely made it out alive, but lost his pokemon and hasn't been the same since.

Would only adventure if someone gave him hope that he could find them again. The adventure ends when he finds them all because he'll want to go back home and settle down now that he's finally got them back.

He wouldn't necessarily get back into the elite four after finding them because he's just not as enthusiastic as he used to be about fighting, but he would probably become someone that gives advice to young trainers around his town.

He used to be super famous when he was in the elite four, and everyone knew him for his competitive spirit and his good sportsmanship. Lots of people still remember him and wonder what happened to make him quit so suddenly.

While he's still missing his pokemon he would hate it when people would be like "omg weren't you in the elite four?!?!" but when he gets them back he just kinda cracks half a smile and chuckles, not really answering but also not saying no.

Korekiyo

Ghost Type

His theme is ancient culture to absolutely no one's surprise.

Frosslass was given to him by his sister. He found golett, yamask, and duskull in different archeological digs that he visited. Banette and misdreavus just took a liking to him, so they joined up with him. He's surprisingly really good with ghosts types? They just like him for some reason...

Korekiyo is an anthropologist like in canon.

His sister is alive but she's really frail after her health took a dramatic turn and has to stay home instead of exploring like she used to. She was super into ice type pokemon, but cant go catch them because her body can't handle the weather anymore.

Kork wants to show his sister the world she cant go out and see anymore and so he travels and brings back souvenirs and pictures for her. She's a little sad she can't go with him, but tries to keep her spirits up despite not being able to fulfill her dream and supports her little brother's dream instead. She's still getting used to the thought of not being able to adventure like she used to.

She was a kinda famous ice type trainer that was about to make it big before her health started failing.

Her health problem is hereditary and her mother died from it when Korekiyo was born because her body couldnt handle the illness and giving birth to Korekiyo at the same time. She won't die as long as she's careful, which includes not going into cold areas and not engaging in strenuous activity. Only the girls in the family get it, and no one really knows what it is.

They dont know where their dad went, but he left after their mother died because he couldn't stand the grief.

Gonta

Bug Type

Fun bug fact: he somehow managed to accidentally catch all the bug types people that freak people out (spider, centipede, wasp/bee hybrid, bugs with pinschers, the parasite one, etc). People have run away from battles with him before and he feels bad about it but cant figure out why they ran.

Gonta doesn't really battle so much as he goes looking for new bug type pokemon. Really enthusiastic about bug types and helps his professor by giving him all the field notes he writes.

Oddly doesn't seem to have any parents? The professor has basically adopted him at this point and they don't talk about it.

Kaito

Dragon Type

His theme is any pokemon he thinks is cool.

Kaito wants to be the champion and if he calls someone his sidekick it means he wants to have them be in his elite four.

He has a penchant for doing things he thinks other people would find cool. Probably has a fucking cape and sunglasses. Wants what Leon has so fucking badly but ends up looking like an egomaniac and a try hard on accident. Totally lies about his adventures to try and look cooler to people, but little does he know that no one ever believes him.

Hasn't actually traveled much despite what he may tell you, but you could get him to tag along as long as there are no ghost types involved. He's scared of them.

Hates cold weather.

Kokichi

Ghost Type

His theme was childish looking pokemon, but then they evolved so it's mischievous pokemon with cool and spooky lore

If the dex entry mentions anything about children, odds are he's caught it already. He's a magnet to those types of ghost pokemon for some reason.

The way he caught his drifloon was cuz it thought he was a little kid and tried to steal him lmao

Kokichi "haunts" (read: terrorizes the townsfolk of) whatever place he's at until he gets bored, then he goes to a new place and starts again. He's another one that oddly doesn't seem to have parents.

He gets excited by adventure and challenges, but I dont think he would leave his country unless he had people he really cares about ask him to go with them, and he'd only go because he doesn't want them to leave him. He'd eventually come around to the idea of traveling and really enjoy it, you just have to give him some time to adjust.

Kokichi in this AU gets really attached to places/things/people that leave an impression on him and doesn't wanna let them go kinda like how ghosts possess places and things and dont want to leave until they get exorcised or find closure. Luckily for Kokichi he "definitely doesn't" let himself get attached to things anymore. I wonder why...?

His tragic backstory is that he's always had an affinity to ghost types and that freaked everyone out so they basically cast him out when he was younger and he's lowkey traumatized by it. Was kinda raised by ghost types in an abandoned, haunted mansion after that because they liked him a lot. Raised in that place but eventually forced to leave because it was so decrepit that it finally collapsed.

Once he meets someone he likes who actually likes him too, he sticks to them like glue and doesn't let go. So much for not getting attached.

Scared of bug types.

Likes Falinks and Pawniard even though they're not ghost types.

Kiibo

Electric/Steel Types

Kiibo is human in this AU. He's a technology enthusiast and a huge fan of Miu's work.

Knows a lot about pokemon like Shuichi and would absolutely geek out with him, but his interest is mostly directed towards steel and electric pokemon rather than all of them, unlike Shuichi's interest in ALL pokemon.

Heir to his father's tech company and that's how he met Miu; she works for his dad. They're really good friends and have been for years.

Magearna has been passed down through his family.

Shuichi

Psychic Type

Shuichi is a pokemon fanatic and is probably in a pokemon fan club.

Studies all day about everything from type matchups to berries but gets overwhelmed and forgets everything he's learned until he really gets into the battle.

Not bad at battling when he's not overwhelmed.

He's good to have around because he's basically a walking wiki page.

He has a knack for finding pokemon and his life goal is probably to try and discover new species or types of pokemon.

His uncle is a detective and he still lives with him like in canon. He's tracks down lost pokemon more than anything though because those are the only cases he really enjoys working on. I imagine he would be like a lost pet/pokemon detective when he's older because that's his specialty.

Solved a big case involving the antagonist team when he was younger and wears a hat to hide his face so they don't recognize him and try to get revenge. Really, really hopes that it will eventually blow over.

He would be nervous about traveling very far, but looking on the bright side of things he gets a change in pace, some new experiences, a chance to avoid the antagonist team, and new friends. He would accept for those reasons, but he would only go with someone he trusts.

#PokeV3 AU #i changed the lore while writing this so im sorry if its not cohesive. i iust keep coming up with better ideas

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loki-hargreeves · 4 years

Text

Loki x Reader ~ Lie To Me

Warnings: A N G S T, mentions of death and grief, implied smut, vulgar language, breakup, confrontation and fighting, maybe some fluff 👀 Word Count: 4K Summary: Based on 5SOS’s song “Lie to me”. After Loki’s ‘death’, you get into a new relationship with another man. For a while, all seems well until Loki shows up in your life all over again. Old feelings resurface and that makes you question your new relationship – and everything else you thought you knew. Eventually, you have to face your feelings when Loki brings it up. Author’s Note: This is for @imma-new-soul ‘s 550 followers writing challenge 💚 I had to write a softer and more sincere Loki for this story. I hope you enjoy it! Xx

THIRD POV

It had been five years.

five years since Thor returned to Earth after visiting Asgard and he told Y/N that Loki had passed away. Thor had let her know that Loki had avenged their mother’s death, dying while protecting Thor and Jane. How his death had been ‘heroic’.

Five years since her entire world collapsed around her, torn down by tremendous grief and torment that followed by losing the love of her life. Despite how heroic it was, she wanted him back. Y/N had felt so selfish as she cried, yearning to have him back in her arms.

When she lost Loki, she lost a part of herself. He was her other half.

During those five years, Y/N had to move on. After all, she was an Avenger. The world needed her and her special abilities. By gritting her teeth together, she pushed through her pain – mostly burying them deep within herself – as she tried to move on. It had taken two years for her to even consider seeing anyone else. Somehow, she felt like Loki wasn’t gone. Everyone that cared about her thought she had lost it when she said she could feel his presence. When she met Adam, she felt like life offered her a new chance, an opportunity to heal. Despite how hard it was, she pushed her feelings aside and allowed herself to get lost in this new relationship.

Adam was tall and dark, strong too. He was kind and gentle. Sure, he wasn’t capable of making things appear out of nowhere nor did he have the knowledge of a thousand-year old god, but it was alright. He was human and that was good enough. As a chef, he knew how to cook delicious food and he always said that the right way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach. It had seemingly worked. Y/N had told Adam about her past with Loki and the man hadn’t judged her at all. In fact, he was very understanding, which was exactly what Y/N needed. Her heart would always belong to Loki, but Adam was someone who could fix it. Sometimes he could make Y/N forget about her difficult past. He made her feel human too.

Then of course, all the good came to an end.

Loki came back to life – or from hiding. It didn’t matter. He was alive! The spaceship with all the surviving Asgardians arrived on Earth, in Norway. It was all over the news worldwide. An alien species, gods and goddesses, were coming to live on Earth, to rebuild a kingdom that had been destroyed. Among them were King Thor and Prince Loki, the very same man who had once been the public enemy. Their story of their return somehow cleared up his name. Y/N already knew all about it. Loki wasn’t evil, he never was. She knew about Thanos, since Loki had told her everything those five years ago.

What upset her was that his return shook her ground, making her feel incredibly unsteady. She was sure he was dead and even when she doubted it, people told her she was crazy. She found someone new and now her heart ached to return to the very same man who broke it. Her inner conflict was almost too much for her, so Y/N did what she knew best; she pushed her feelings aside. It’s like someone switched her body on autopilot and she blocked reality away for a little longer, only to shield herself from the immense pain.

Y/N thought she could simply ignore it, until Loki joined the Avengers.

“Hey, are you okay?” Adam broke Y/N’s bubble of thoughts. They were at the Avengers compound, getting ready for a date. In only a few hours, Loki would surely be in New York. Y/N didn’t want to be at the compound to see him, so the date was perfectly timed.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of cold water, trying to stop her hands from shaking as she held the glass. “Oh, I’m fine, Adam. Just a bit…tired, that’s all,” She smiled sweetly as she told him a blatant lie.

Naturally, he didn’t buy it. He knew it just as well as the rest of the world that Loki was back. The tall man sighed as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s waist, pulling her close. He had just showered, and the scent of his cologne filled her lungs. “I know it’s hard. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. I mean, you thought he was dead, Y/N!” He went straight to the point, trying to relate to her.

Y/N melted in his grasp and nodded. She didn’t want to talk about it. “I’ll go change. I thought I’d wear the dress you bought me,” She changed the topic and broke free from the loving hug. She put the glass down on the counter and walked off without waiting for his reply. If she stayed there longer, she was afraid she would cry. It was the last thing she wanted to do. How unfair would that be for Adam?

The moment she shut the door behind her as she entered her room, she took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm herself down. Tonight, she would go out to a nice dinner with her boyfriend and she would enjoy herself. Determined to make the night good for them, she stripped out of her daytime clothes and slipped on the dress Adam bought her. It was a sleek, red dress with a slit to reveal her leg. For a floor length dress, it was a little bit scandalous which was exactly what she liked. Y/N looked at herself in the mirror and she smiled. The dress looked good on her and she knew it. Paired for a silver necklace and a few rings, black heels and her purse, she was ready to go. Before she left her room, she sprayed perfume in the air and walked past it, giving herself the hint of a rosy scent.

“Adam? I’m ready to go!” Y/N yelled from the hallway, applying lip-gloss as she walked towards the nearest kitchen where she had last seen him. When she didn’t get a reply, she grew worried. Adam wasn’t in the kitchen and it was awfully quiet on the floor. “Adam?” She called his name again, but to no avail.

Y/N decided to check the common area. Perhaps he had found company. After all, the compound was full of Avengers and personnel, their friends et cetera. It would be strange not to find anyone to speak with.

What Y/N found was far from what she had expected. She entered the common area, which was huge, and it was full. Everyone in the compound must’ve been there and it didn’t take a genius to know why.

They were welcoming Thor and Loki to the compound. Even Adam was there.

In the middle of them all, Y/N laid her eyes on the man she had missed for all those years. Loki walked beside Thor, looking around the place with a smile, but she could tell he was nervous. Moments later, their eyes met. Y/N felt shivers running down her spine as she faced Loki. Her blood turned into ice and her breath was lost somewhere in her throat.

Seeing him crushed the lies she had told herself.

He was back and she still loved him.

Before Loki could even think about walked past the crowd to see the woman he used to call his girlfriend, another man walked by her side. The man put his hand on her waist and Loki put two and two together. After all, it had been five years. He should’ve expected it, but nevertheless, seeing it with his own two eyes was like a slap in the face.

Y/N tore her eyes off Loki and faced Adam with a small smile. “Can we go, please?” She pleaded and it became clear how uncomfortable she was.

Adam pressed a kiss on her forehead, “of course,” he said and offered her his arm. Y/N grabbed it and appreciated the support. She needed it as her legs felt weak from shock. Just like that, she turned her back on Loki and walked away with Adam. This date would definitely be one to remember.

The date was just like any other, expect this time Y/N felt like her mind and body were in two different places. She enjoyed herself, the food and the drinks, even Adam’s company, but at the same time her head was in a different world. Loki was constantly on the back of her mind and she couldn’t possibly forget the moment their eyes met. It had felt like lightning struck her.

When they returned to Adam’s apartment, Y/N wished that his kisses could take her mind elsewhere. They got lost in the sheets just like they had done a thousand times before, but Y/N could still not forget him.

This continued for days.

At the compound, it was hard to ignore the god of Mischief. They lived under the same damn roof and they still hadn’t spoken. Every time he would enter a room, Y/N would leave. They would only stay in the same room during a meeting. Even then, Y/N avoided his gaze but Loki could still feel her catching glimpses of him when he wasn’t looking. They both knew they couldn’t continue like this forever. Loki didn’t want to wreck her relationship, but he felt like Y/N had began to question it already.

One day, Adam confronted her. He arrived at the compound after she hadn’t replied to his texts and calls for a day. He was worried about her, so Adam thought it was harmless enough to visit her. What he didn’t expect was to find her in her room with mascara streaks on her cheeks. She looked a mess!

Adam rushed to her side on the floor and he cupped her face softly, “baby, what happened? Are you okay?!”

Y/N’s lips quivered as she faced Adam. Tears were rolling down her face and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. When Adam pulled her on his lap into a hug, she gasped for air and let out a cry that broke his heart. Little did they know that the people outside her room could hear, including Loki.

“I don’t…I don’t k-know what to do!” Y/N sobbed into Adam’s chest. She had stayed up the entire night because her mind hadn’t given her a moment of peace. She felt broken all over again.

Adam already knew what it was about, and his fears seemed to become real. When he heard the news of Loki’s return, he had honestly expected her to break up with him already back then. But she didn’t. No matter how much he wanted a future with her, it began to become clear that it wouldn’t happen. They both knew it. Deep down, Y/N had always loved Loki.

Tears stung Adam’s brown eyes as he hugged her shaking body. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her familiar sweet scent. He didn’t want to let go of her, he really didn’t. “I love you, Y/N.”

His quiet words made her feel terrible. She felt rotten to her core. It felt so wrong to cry over another man when she had someone as nice as Adam. “I’m sorry, Adam…” She sniffled as she hugged him. Yes, she cared about him too, but it was different.

They stayed like that for a while until they had both calmed down a little bit. Eventually, Y/N broke free from his arms and she walked to her bed, sitting down on the soft mattress. Adam stood up from the floor and he wiped away his own tears. “Do you love him?” He wanted to know, even though the truth would break his heart.

Y/N swallowed thickly, not wanting to say it. It was so wrong. But she didn’t want to lie to Adam either. She ended up staying quiet, but her gaze said it all.

Adam took her silence as a ‘yes’ and he felt like crying all over again, but not in front of her. The situation was bizarre so he couldn’t find the nerve to be angry with her either. Adam was angry at Loki, who first pretended to die, breaking her heart and then he returned like he had never done anything wrong.

“Goodbye, Y/N. If you need me, c-call me, okay? No matter what,” Adam told her as calmly as he could. Despite the cold harsh truth, Adam was still holding onto the hope that they would be endgame. His voice betrayed him at the end of sentence, but before he could stay and let her see him like that, he left. Y/N hated herself as she sat there and just let him go away. She felt bad for wanting him to leave.

In the midst of her sorrow and rage, she got an idea. It wasn’t the wisest one, but she didn’t care anymore. She was going to end the silent war between her and Loki. With red and puffy eyes, she got up from her bed with only one destination in mind, wherever Loki was.

She found him in the living room with Peter Parker and Bucky. The three of them seemed to have formed a very strange friendship. Right now, Y/N didn’t care that the two others saw and heard her like that. Loki looked up to her with wide eyes. He wanted to comfort her as he saw she had been crying, but the angry look ok her face kept him from doing that. He already knew what was coming.

“You!” Y/N pointed at him. Her hands were shaking. “Who do you t-think you are?! I thought you were dead!” She sobbed angrily, slowly losing her grip on herself. She was overwhelmed, to say at least.

Loki stood up from the couch and slowly he made his way closer to her. His heart was already beating a little harder in his chest. “Y/N, I can explain-“

“No! I..I don’t want to hear it. You were dead and now…” She stopped to look at him. A part of her wanted to close the distance between them, to hug him, to hold him again, to feel that he was in fact real. But she refused to do so. Just a few days ago she slept with Adam and they were in a good, happy and healthy relationship! “Now you’re here like nothing ever happened!”

Peter and Bucky were quiet, but they stayed. They could’ve walked away, but they were worried that the situation could escalate. Y/N was powerful. They had seen her on the field. Despite how amazing her powers were, they could get out of hand when she was overwhelmed. Just in case something would happen, they wanted to be around so they could help her.

“I’m sorry,” Loki apologized sincerely. That was rare coming from him. It didn’t sound like he was mocking her. He was genuinely sorry for what had happened. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish that all of that would’ve never happened, but I can’t change anything now.”

“Why…why didn’t you tell me you were alive?” Y/N wanted to know. Her eyes were glossy from the tears that were evidence of the pain she carried.

Loki wished he could explain everything to her, but it would take a long time. Right now, she wasn’t in the headspace to hear the long story. “It’s complicated. But I assure you, I will tell you everything.”

Y/N stood there and shook her head. There was a pounding headache taking over her and all she wanted now was to disappear. It felt like her entire life changed overnight, again. She saw it coming, but it hurt nevertheless as Adam walked away. Y/N scanned the room and she noticed how all eyes were on her. Peter and Bucky looked at her with pity written all over their faces. She didn’t want to be pitied or felt sorry for.

“Adam left me,” she whispered quietly, teary eyed, but everyone heard her. She faced Loki, which was the hardest thing she had done in a while. He looked sad for her. It was a side of him many hadn’t seen before. Y/N could tell he wanted to hold her, just like she wanted to hold him, but neither of them dared to move a muscle in the dramatic moment.

Of course, Loki was sorry for her. Adam was there to pick her up from rock bottom when she needed someone the most. He must’ve meant a lot to Y/N. But Loki was also angry. Now that Adam was gone, it was far too tempting to try and take her back, to seek forgiveness. Loki was angry that Adam left her like this when she was clearly so hurt.

Before it could all get too much for her, she turned to leave. Y/N had only taken a few steps when she felt someone grab her wrist. “Y/N, please. Don’t walk away. We need to talk about things!” Loki pleaded. He sounded startled.

Y/N knew he was right. They worked together now. Ignoring each other would be impossible. Instead of pushing him away, Y/N sighed, “Alright.”

To get some privacy, they walked away from the watching eyes in silence until they ended up in Y/N’s quarters. She led him all the way to the balcony, so they were standing under the moonlight. She needed some fresh air and the coolness from the outside breeze helped her calm down at least a little bit. Avoiding Loki’s gaze was the only way she could still control herself somehow. She knew how hypnotizing his gaze could be, luring her to betray her own grip. But she wondered if she should let go and return into his arms. Would he even want that? Would it be wrong?

“If I had told you, I would’ve compromised thousands of Asgardian lives. Maybe I should’ve told you, but I didn’t. I’m very sorry, I truly am,” Loki decided to break the silence that had briefly surrounded them. He sounded angry at himself.

Y/N had suspected Loki had a good reason for what he had done. She wanted a reason to be resentful at him, but she struggled to be that. Because at the end of the day, she had wished for him to come back. For four years, she had dreamt of the moment she could hug him away, to see he was alright. The conflict she felt was slowly tearing her apart.

Loki felt rather confident, courageous enough to put his large hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb. Y/N didn’t back off, instead she leaned against his touch which she seemed to do without even thinking about it. “I love you, Y/N,” Loki admitted. He had always loved her, and he always would.

The three words felt like a blow to Y/N’s high walls. She had almost wished that he wouldn’t say that so it would be easier to let go of him. But now that she heard them, she knew she couldn’t let go of him. Why couldn’t the god of mischief just have lied to her one more time? She looked right into his emerald eyes and searched for any signs that he was lying, but he wasn’t. Loki was still in love with her, there was no doubt about that.

“I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you. I understand if you hate me, you have all the reasons to after what I did to you,” Loki continued, his voice getting a little louder and raspier as his own emotions bubbled within himself. “I’m sorry what happened between you and Adam. You seemed happy and I wish you know I would never want to make you unhappy.”

Y/N wished they had never met, because he was too hard to forget. But at the same time, she knew that Loki was the best thing that ever happened to her. Sure she had seemed happy, but now she questioned everything that had happened. Was the truly happy with Adam or was she happy she had someone to distract her from Loki? “Loki, I…I wasn’t that happy- gosh, I don’t even know what I’m saying!”

No matter how dirty she felt for loving him back, especially this hard, only moments after she broke up with Adam, she couldn’t lie to herself. Y/N was sick and tired of denying herself of what she truly wanted. Now that Loki was back and Adam was gone, was there really a reason for her to hold back?

No one else’s opinions mattered anymore. Y/N loved him too.

“Let’s settle this once in for all, okay?” Loki breathed out. He seemed nervous but incredibly determined to get this over with. “Be honest,” He continued although he wished she would return the words, even if she would be lying, “do you love me?”

Y/N already saw his question coming from a mile away. She knew what her answer was, but it felt like her lips were frozen in time. The words were heavy on her tongue.

Silently, she got up on her toes and almost threw herself at him. Loki grabbed her body in his strong arms, and he didn’t waste a second to hug her back, almost in shock. He was afraid she would never forgive him for what he had done, but clearly, she still wanted him. She had always wanted him. Y/N grabbed Loki’s cheeks and pulled him closer to her face. Loki’s body moved in sync with hers, knowing exactly what to do. He put his hand at the back of her head just as their lips collided into a passionate and messy kiss.

The world stopped spinning and everything unnecessary disappeared from around them as the two lovers got lost in that kiss. It had been far too long since the last time, but it felt like no time had passed as their lips met again.

Tears washed down her face as they kissed, but Y/N didn’t care. Loki was so happy to have her in his arms, to taste her lips again. It grew heated and passionate very fast. Their teeth clashed as they tried to deepen it too fast, both yearning for more. It made them break the kiss and despite the emotional whirlwind that had taken Y/N by surprise, she giggled, surprising Loki. “Yes, I love you, damn it. I never stopped loving you.”

Before this, Loki had been certain that she hated him and everything about him. How could she not? What he had done to her was absolutely terrible and he hated himself for it. He had been ready to ask her to lie to him, to say those three words to him one last time. But he didn’t have to ask her, and she didn’t have to lie.

It was true.

No more unnecessary words needed to be spoken. Their minds worked together, almost magically. Loki picked her body up in his arms and Y/N wrapped her legs around him as they retreated inside into her room. As they fell onto her soft bed, for a moment, they forgot about everyone and everything else. They were finally together once more and they both craved each other, more than people in hell craved ice water.

They could fix what had been broken, together, like the chaotic couple they had been and still were.

A/N: Here you go! I love to write angst like this. I hope you enjoyed it and I would absolutely love your feedback. Thank you <3

#Jays550 #Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki x You #Loki imagine #Loki one-shot #Loki fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #Loki odinson #Marvel Fanfiction #Writing Challenge #prompt #tw angst #tw breakup

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