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#i was quite busy i had to rip up so many stitches my back and neck hurt so much
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"What's your favorite thing about me?" he'd asked that jokingly, expecting you to laugh or blink confusedly at him in that sweet way you always did, and he'd get to savor your flustered expression. but instead you tilted your head, thinking for a moment before you lit up with a smile. "Your hands" then it was Childe who laughed in surprise, curious and intrigued with your answer. his hands? what were so special about his hands? he didn't particularly like them, with how much blood they've spilled and how many scars litter the skin, only hidden by the gloves he always wore. so he asked you why, playful grin hiding keen, genuine interest, then wavering slightly when you intertwined one of your hands with his. "Because I can hold them!" oh, how his heart had melted, your gentle hold on his fingers softening even the most battle-hungry of the Harbingers, and he'd thanked his lucky stars that he'd been blessed with someone like you. now his claws shiver from chill and fear as you stand before him, unable to meet your gaze as he's filled with shame. it's his fault he's like this- how could he be so careless? how could he become stuck in this form, it's as bad as throwing away your love because obviously no one can love an Abyssal monster like him, and Foul Legacy whimpers, hiding his hiccupping sobs behind his talons. delicate fingers wrap around said talons, pulling them carefully away from his face, and Childe looks up into your soft, worried eyes. with two hands you cradle one of his, gently massaging the back of his bruised knuckles, trying so hard to not let your tears of concern fall. "See...? I can still hold your hands..."
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bruniatrobaire · 2 months
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INTERVIEW
You arrive at the academy with a heavy suitcase in your hands, struggling to carry it up the stairs to the reception hall. There’s more, of course, within the rest of your trunks that you had shipped to the academy, but there were certain necessities that you refused to travel without. Various changes of clothes, just in case, amongst an array of sewing materials, to keep your hands busy as you made the long journey - and to repair any rips in your clothing should they happen.
Hauling your suitcase up the stairs one by one, you just barely make it to the top, panting heavily. The gatekeeper looks at you quizzically, moving to help you with your luggage.
“Miss, can I help you?” He asks carefully as you drop your suitcase on the top step, flattening out the wrinkles in your skirt. You straighten your beret as you look up at him, almond eyes widening in surprise.
“Oh! I’m not…” You falter slightly, standing up properly with a smile, “Oh nevermind, it doesn’t matter. I believe I was supposed to meet someone here, to finish an application to work for the Church as a healer. Where might I inquire about that?”
The gatekeeper smiles back, “I can help you with that! There are just a few required questions that you will need to answer. Is that alright?”
You nod vigorously. When you had left your deeprealm, to finally encounter the world outside, you had taken up a staff. When you had found yourself in that village, surrounded by brigands and devastation, your first thought had not been of yourself, but of those who needed your help as a healer. You wanted to be able to do the same here, to be able to think of the common people and how to help them. 
“Very well then, we shall start with: what has led you to where you are today?”
You laugh instantly, “Why! A carriage of course!” You take a deep breath, before giving your true answer, “More seriously, desire to help people. To protect them from the devastation of war. If that be through my skills as a healer, or with the power of my father’s tome, I just hope to be able to walk a path that allows me to protect as many people as possible.” You would prefer it to be with the former, of course. Not that you were against fighting if you had to, it’s just… why! Fighting was quite a dirty thing wasn’t it! You’d hate to get your clothes all stained with blood. You were much more confident in your skills as a healer anyway, and confidence was always the first step to being able to do anything for you. You wanted to be able to guard those weaker than yourself not with the sword, but with a shield and a guiding hand to help them stand on their own again.
You would serve as diligently with your staff as you had to, so long as no one under your watch had to suffer. Not if you had anything to say about it.
“Next: What do you believe are your greatest strengths? Greatest weaknesses?” Of course, they would want to know what you were capable of. You could certainly understand that. You would want to know the same of anyone under your employ.
“Well, I can sew a mean back stitch,” you laugh, “though… I find myself to be somewhat unworthy of what will someday be mine. Someday, perhaps, but not now. The doubt I may not be capable of that responsibility is what I would consider my greatest weakness,” Perking up a little, you continue with a smile and a deep breath, “Being able to hold my head high and have confidence in who I am; that’s quite a great strength isn’t it?” You were not ashamed of things like your appearance. It did not make you any less of a man, or a person. Even if you were not physically strong, your strength came from the inside. You refused to allow yourself to be coddled or protected just because of silly things like appearance anyway! You did not need anyone’s protection to be able to hold your own, even without fighting!
And you certainly needed no changing of who you were at your very core to be able to achieve that! You would do it on your own, please and thank you! You may be cute, but well… you certainly wouldn’t hold back if push came to shove. 
“Finally: If a story was written about your life, what role would you play?” Oh my! Like a fairytale right from a storybook! How quaint!
“Well, I am a prince,” you pause in consideration, a hand placed gently to your cheek as you smile at the other man, “but I think I would much rather be a guiding hand towards the hero. Oh! Maybe something like a fairy godmother, that would be nice!” With cute outfits and advice alike - oooooo it was just too perfect of a role for you; wasn’t it?! 
Of course, if the hero tripped and fell along the way, you would be right there beside them to allow them to stand again, skinned knees healed over and all!
“Very well then, thank you for answering the questions,” The gatekeeper offers you a salute before directing towards the cathedral with a nod of respect. Oh! What a kind man! You playfully return the salute, before taking up your suitcase again, heading off in the right direction. Time to show this place what you were able to do! (With both the staff and the needle, of course!)
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hareinthechair · 2 years
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Designing and making a bespoke sofa
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This chair story is a personal one that I hope will give you an insight into what goes into the complete rebuild of a piece of furniture whilst showing you how personalised that process can be. Whilst celebrating our 17 years together in 2019 my partner and I decided to look up what is the suggested gift for such time together… turns out it is furniture. We did need a new sofa, living in a renovation project we were close to finishing the front room. The only current sofa we owned, I hate to admit, is a cheaply made chesterfield style sofa bed which in it’s short life has needed many repairs. Determined the next one we owned would be traditionally upholstered, I suggested we get a sofa I could ‘just recover’  (full time work and a couple of young boys were keeping me busy enough.) We did an internet search, found a potential piece that we both liked the look of and pressed bid…
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When initially plunged into lockdown, much as I would have loved to have spent my time upholstering, home-schooling was quite enough. So this time passed and the sofa remained in its faded green velour outfit. Come November 2021 the second lockdown bought another furlough period for myself and my colleagues at the Bristol Upholstery Collective. However schools remained open- here was my chance! I’m not going to lie, it took nearly a whole week to strip the frame down! So many staples, so many strange finds. It was like a detective story on a sofa. The markings of previous coil springs, odd layers of black strands of horse hair and multiple tack holes nodded to the original state. Overall the frame was really solid and well made. However there had been some strange occurrences during the life of this frame, parts of which had been sawn off and then rebuilt larger and thinner and covered in foam. The seat had been replaced with modern serpentine springs, despite the frame being made for a comfortable independent sprung edge.
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The wood was cut back down to the original size, all the upholstery and staples ripped out, holes filled and then, finally I was ready to start.  I began by  building up the back, needing to reuse a number of the old springs, which luckily were in good enough condition as I did not have access to many more at the time. I sewed and lashed 27 springs to the webbed back. Goodness, I thought this is going to be comfortable! Then the country emerged again from and I went back to work. But not for long. The January of 2021 brought us another lockdown. This time I was determined to home school and upholster. I stuffed and stitched and got the back completed. The time also allowed me to start the arms. As this is a double drop arm sofa it meant that rather than the standard 2 scrolls needing stitching on your average fixed arm sofa it needed 6. One at the front and back of each arm and then a scroll on the back where the arms meet. Lots more stuffing, sculpting and stitching. It was a joy.
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By the end of that lockdown in March the piece was really beginning to take shape. Unfortunately, due to one thing and another, general life got in the way and the sofa stayed seat-less until December. This did get a bit embarrassing as my students would often ask, ‘how's the sofa going Harriet?’... Having your long awaited holiday cancelled due to Omicron was not ideal; however a christmas break to the Alps turned into a busman's holiday in my front room.  Sofa time was back. I say ‘front room’ we still hadn’t been able to use this room, an unusable sofa and boxes of upholstery tools were not conducive to a relaxing area. My sons seemed to be constantly growing upwards and our collective tastes in TV growing outwards. The snuggly space of the little room we currently all nestled in was not working so well. We all needed space. The drive to finish the sofa and use the room we had went up a gear.
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The seat was an independent sprung edge. I had been really looking forward to doing this. As the original springs had been replaced by modern ones in the last upholstery I had no cane or spring wire to use. Buying a wire was a bit tricky at the time, however I had a lot of bamboo in my garden! I actually didn't end up using the cane from my garden as in actual fact it was a bit chunky. I came across a beautiful cane growing in a family member's garden on a visit. It came home with me. The ends were bent using the steam from the kettle without burning myself which was an achievement in itself. I love the fact that this cane grew in the garden where my partner grew up. Springs lashed in and cane placed and tied, the seat was ready to cover with stuffings of coir and cattle hair. By the end of the Christmas break the seat was covered in calico, ready for top fabric. Now I just needed to keep up the momentum, this was hard but I knew that this project needed to be completed.
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Up to this point I had been lucky enough to avoid catching Covid, I Fortunately when I did it was mild and I could sit and stitch, and by this time I was on to stitching on the top covers. We had decided we liked the idea of a two tone sofa, I had some of Bute’s yellow honeycomb weave fabric’ ‘Braemar’,which I absolutely love. It is like a blanket. We thought it could be interesting to try and have a yellow topping so to speak, we matched it with an Abraham Moon pure wool in Charcoal. This is great in theory but does mean a lot of thought needs to go into the planning and ensuring the lines meet up, not least with the piping cord, otherwise living with the sofa I knew it would drive me up the wall looking at something I was not happy with. During my time off with Covid I stitched and unpicked and stitched and unpicked until I was happy (and watched the Winter Olympics…)
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As is so often the case it's the last finishing touches of a project that are so hard to tie up. As the piece is made up of separate elements (the arms are completely separate from the sofa frame it was quite a challenge to ensure the arms met the back at the right height and depth. This is quite an awkward thing to work on as the arms need to be put on and then taken off and then put on again. There are also areas on a drop arm like this that you can see that you wouldn't on a fixed arm sofa, so these needed to be attended to. One of the biggest challenges was the stop start nature of the work. I would get into a flow. Then stop. Then I needed to work out where I got to and what I was thinking about last time I was in a flow.
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However over the next few months I picked away at each element until on Saturday 28th May 2022 I declared loudly to my family ‘the sofa is finished!’ ‘Well done Mum’, my son replied. Where were the fireworks?! I was delighted. It is by far my largest upholstery project to date and one that I feel very proud of.Having said that, I did then think, ooh it would be nice to have some bolsters, and I’ve always fancied making a round bolster… so I re-declared the sofa as finished on Monday 20th June 2022 with accessories. Now I am enjoying sitting on it. And using our front room, I even let my family sit on it- as long as they don't have drinks! It goes without saying that this has been ‘a project’. I have learnt so much, and not just about upholstery, but that is for another time. I hope that I have made a piece of furniture that will outlast me and that my family can enjoy. Lets drop that arm and relax!
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shyestofhearts · 3 years
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Hi Shy~
Sooo, I have this headcanon that Damian is like this wonderful child prodigy genius. Like, super smart. So smart, that when Bruce tries to enroll him in Gotham academy, they tell him that Damian has tests for college level. Which, Damian just rolls his eyes at, because duh. After discussing it with professionals and yada yada, Damian gets enrolled into college. He’s like, twelve-ish. He is STILL bored in class, and knows most of the information they are trying to teach. His advisor is so sweet and invested into Damian though. And observant. After noticing Damian lack of enthusiasm, he asks Damian what the problem. Nothing interests him, none of his classes.this advisor is an old timer, in my opinion, and has seen so many kids pushed to do things they never wanted to do, and decides he can’t let that happen with Damian. So the Advisor pulls out every department, every major, and goes through it with Damian. After a few hours, because it takes a while to convince Damian that it is alright to do anything he wants, Damian has his majors narrowed down to a few things. Art and pre-med. Damian’s advisor suggests he visit a few of the clubs on campus to really get a feel of what he wants. Thing is, even after going to the students’ art club gallery and one of the pre-med club meetings, neither really speak to him. It’s a Saturday night, and he’s alone on campus. Damian is about to call Alfred, when a student from Damian’s organic chemistry class spots him.
“Damian!” Jace, a slightly round student with soft curly hair smiles at Damian. “Are you here for the show?”
“Show?” Damian scowls?
“Yeah, the fashion show. This year’s theme is sustainability,” Jace smiles. They one of the few people who never ogled at Damian for being a Wayne or looked down on him for his age. They are just genuinely nice, and Damian knows that.
“I didn’t know we had a fashion show,”
“Really? I swear I thought I mentioned it,” Jace says, surprised. Jace may have mentioned that, but Damian probably was zoned out during the time.“Tickets are $15, if you wanna come”
“Oh,” Damian frowns, “I used all the money I brought with me for the art gallery and lunch earlier,” He says, cursing internally for not bringing more cash with him.
“If you want to go, I’ll cover you.” Jace smiles, “Think of it as payment for help on our last exam” Damian would usually say no, but Jace is just so nice,
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah! Besides,” Jace smiles, turning towards the stadium, “I have a feeling you’re going to love it”
And Damian did love it. The designs were amazing, some more haute couture while others were casual, and each designer explained how their designs involved sustainability. Some were statement pieces, designed to address political issues, others were just to demonstrate that sustainability could still be cute, and while others highlighted affordability and sustainability.
Damian wanted to do this. Running through his head were endless possibilities. Perhaps he can enlist the help of Poison Ivy to create a vegan leather that was also bullet resistant, or…
The next Monday he is waiting for his advisor at 7 in the morning, because he spent the rest of the weekend coming up with ideas, sketches, creating a portfolio, and practicing hypothetical arguments as to why Damian should go into fashion. At 7:15 his advisor sees him, and can tell by the light in Damian’s eyes, determination on his face, and the way he’s clutching his sketchbook, Damian has found it.
“I want into the fashion program!” Damian all but bursts, unconsciously on his tippy toes in excitement.
“Okay,” His advisor smiles, ushering him into his office. “Let’s make it happen”
“Just like that?” Damian asks, eyes wide, voice surprisingly small. His advisor smiles at him kindly.
“I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen.”
It takes a bit before Damian can actually get into the program, he has to work on some prerequisites, and also create a better portfolio with samples, but Damian is determined. By the end of the school year, he has been accepted.
Damian doesn’t tell his family, not in the beginning. He actually doesn’t want to tell his friends either, unsure of how they’d react. He is still insecure, and just entering his teen years. He worries about what any or everyone will say. Eventually, though he tells Jon and Colin, swearing them to secrecy. They both are excited for him, asking if he’d design their costumes for them. Damian blushes but says,
“Tt, like you can afford me”
He eventually tells Alfred as well, because he needs help learning how to use a sewing machine, and fast. Sure, he can stitch someone up flawlessly, but sewing machines weren’t part of the League’s lessons. Alfred is in charge of the one at the Manor, so it only makes sense to ask him. Even so, Damian is reluctant. When he does finally ask, he nearly gives himself an attack, worrying about being scolded for not using his “full potential”. Alfred simply squeezes Damian’s shoulder, and agrees with a kind smile. The young Master finally seemed passionate about something besides vigilante work and violence. Alfred would do everything in his power to foster that.
“Just,” Damian looks down, hands clenching into fists at his side, “Do not tell the others. I would prefer this between us,” He looks at Alfred, unsuccessfully trying to hide the vulnerability in his wide emerald eyes. Alfred agrees, for now. On the conditions that Damian would have to tell his father and siblings himself, and not to far in the future either.
Damian impresses everyone with his designs, and people learn he is actually quite adorable when he’s doing something he enjoys. His classmates and professors encourage him to join the fall fashion show, which is covering “multiculturalism and the media”. Damian hesitantly agrees, though he has been making designs since the theme was announced. His room is full of crumbled paper on his floor, designs he deigned not good enough. Many of his designs are heavily influenced by his Arab culture, but he also has some Chinese-influenced designs as well. His statement piece is the hardest to get right. It involves a hijab and beautiful colors, but he just can’t get the right patter. Ripping another page and crumpling it,Damian is too concentrated to realized Tim and Dick have been creeping into his room.
“What’s this Dames?” Dick asks, startling Damian, as he looks at some of the rejected designs. Panic makes Damian defensive as he yells at them to get out, frustration fueling the dread of his family seeing such unsatisfactory work. Tim flinches, shocked by the emotion coming off of Damian, rushing out with a few crumpled papers he snuck from the floor. Damian is literally trying to shove Dick out the door. Dick turns around, because he can hear the panic in his little brother’s voice. In his Robin’ voice. “Damian,” he says softly, easily deflecting Damian. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Damian, reversing the situation. “What’s wrong, why are you reacting like this?” After a few minutes of struggling, Damian gives up. Slowly,he explains the situation, how he’s in the fashion program and the fashion show coming up, all the pressure to do well, the frustration of not having his statement piece yet. Dick listens, his hold turning into a hug. “From what I’ve seen,” Dick says softly, “these are all wonderful designs,Dami. Whatever you end up making will look amazing, if they look anything like your sketches.”
“It’s not enough!” Damian complains, eyes burning, but he refuses to cry. “You don’t understand!” He says, frustrated.
“Then explain it to me, why is this so important?”
“Because it is about me!” Damian’s voice cracks ask he turns away rosiness his eyes harshly. “When I was introduced to the public, as “Bruce Wayne’s biological son”, do you not remember how the newspapers reacted? They didn’t know me, or my mother, but because—because of my skin, the country I was born, I was mistrusted. Scorned. Yeah, maybe I’ve killed people, but that isn’t because of my skin color or my culture or the language I speak. I have this opportunity to speak out against that!” Damian turns to look at Dick, “I’ve tried to become better, to do better. It’s hard and unfair that none of that matters, because guests are invited to galas hosted in the house that I live in, only to make snide racist comments about “nukes” or the desert or bombs whenever Father and you all aren’t around me. How can I be better, when I’m not given the chance because people can’t see past my skin?” Dick wraps Damian into a tight hug, as wetness drips down Damian’s cheeks. “I’ve been here nearly four years—and it still happens” Damian whispers.
“Why didn’t you say anything Dami?”
“What could I say?” Damian whispers back,
“Bruce—”
“Invites these people because they are important to Wayne Enterprise.” He scoffs. “What could you do, especially if I have no proof?”
“Believe me, Damian,” Dick says seriously, pulling back to look into Damian’s eyes. “Bruce won’t invite anyone who’s racist or derogatory towards his children, back to a gala, let alone do business with him again.” He smiles a hard somewhat vicious smile. “I know because when I was first adopted, he did that for me” Damian’s eyes widen. “And if Bruce can’t defend you, you can bet your brothers will,” Damian looks unsure, but nods. “But I get it now. You’ve always used art to vent and express yourself. This design is something that would allow you to address what the media has done to and said about you.”
“It’s been,” Damian shrugs, looking down, “therapeutic. In a way I never imagined it would be.”
“Well, I think, whatever you end up designing will be amazing,” Dick smiles, and Damian looks up at the sincerity, giving his own smile smile in response. “And I expect an invitation to the fashion show!” He chuckles, causing Damian to blush. “And I bet the whole family would want to come as well,” Damian blushes, looking away once more.
“Tickets are $15 each, and available online,” Damian replies, making Dick belly laugh. “You can invite the others, if you’d like” Damian mumbles.
“Hmm,how ‘bout I invite the siblings while you invite your dad,” Damian grumbles, but agrees. “Great! Now, take a break. One night not designing won’t hurt you.” Dick says, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulder. ‘Might do you some good, in fact.”
Things get better after that, because after his talk with Dick, Damian gets an idea for his design. Ziba, a Persian student Damian met in his Literature class, agreed to be his model for his statement piece. She wore her hijab proudly, a solid black color, which helped with the down-to-business look the rest of the outfit screamed. Ziba’s makeup was beautiful, as Damian was putting the last touches on her. They both were quiet, nervous excitement pulsing through them both. Ziba had on white trousers that flared out a bit, to give an almost flowy feel, with black basic vegan leather square pointed toe mule flat accented by a silver buckle. Damian had made the top a cross between a tunic, a blazer, and a cape. It is white, and goes over a plain solid black turtleneck. Printed on both the buttoned blazer tunic top and the trousers are past racist articles written about Damian. In red graffiti styled letters sprayed across the news paper articles are phrases like “Lies” “Warped Perception” “Western POV” “Racist” “I was only 10”. The red paint matches the red lipstick Ziba is wearing.
Damian was nervous with his family in the audience, everyone including Alfred was there. Apparently Superman and Superboy were in attendance too, as civilians of course. Colin was there too. Damian had told his father about the fashion show, and was surprised to see how supportive he was about it. Of course that may have been the shock, as Damian had told him that morning before leaving for school. Bruce blinked, stood up and hugged Damian, before saying he couldn’t wait for the show.
Damian’s set is the last, ask the show is in alphabetical order according to last names. When it’s his turn, all of his model’s line up, and Damian is running around making sure everything is perfect. He hears the speaker introduce his collection, inviting Damian to join him on stage. Damian rushes out, brown cheeks turn red. Together they introduce all seven outfits of the collection one by one, as Damian describes his designs, the material, and the inspiration behind each one. When it get’s to Ziba’s turn, Damian’s nearly choked up. He manages to discuss this piece and it’s significance to him. At the end, Damian received a standing ovation from nearly everyone. Looking over at his family, he has to duck from hiding his flamed cheeks. All his siblings were cheering for him, while Bruce and Dick dab their eyes. Alfred has a proud look on his face, and Damian couldn’t have been happier.
He ends up getting second place, but also his own work room at the Manor. Damian begins selling his work after getting it patented (Tim demanded it), and is surprised when a number of orders are for the galas around Gotham. Dick told Bruce and the others about all the things Damian has been hearing at Galas, and they are justifiably angry. Duke begins chants of “Eat the Rich” every time he hears someone says something problematic about Damian, and that because Tim’s signal on who to take down next.
Damian’s designs become more widely popular as his family starts wearing them, as they love talking about it and how he uses sustainable methods and materials. This earns him big named clients, who start wearing Damian’s designs on the Red Carpet and premiers . Damian also likes to do work for charity, often donating dresses to high schoolers who cannot afford prom dresses or making clothes out of extra material to donate to shelters so people have clothes for job interviews and such.
(He also makes his pets clothes when he’s bored, so it’s normal to see Titus wearing a doggy hoodie with slits in it for his ears)
ANYWAYS, this is my headcanon lol
What do think about it?
—🧵🪡
Headcanon?? Bestie this a whole ass au!
As for my thoughts-
💳 💥💥 💳 💥💥💥 💳 💥💥💥💥
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rafaelblackbird15 · 3 years
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Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 4: Sterek
These are Sterek, Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale fanfictions.
I really love these. They are some of my favourite Sterek stories, and ALL of these are absolutely beautiful. Without a doubt. Send the authors some love, because that's what they've given me and us right here. :)
If there is a problem with any of the links, let me know and I will fix them.
For appropriate reading check the hashtags on the actual fics.
I hope you enjoy these as much as I did.
And check out my other Steter fic recs [Part 1] and [Part 2] and Sterek fic recs [Part 3]
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God Brings The Wounded by CallieB on Archive of Our Own
Words: 4938
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
“Jesus,” Stiles says, when he sees Derek for the first time, and feels his face do that thing where it tries to smile. Derek, or the weirdly fresh-faced teenage version of Derek that he is now, doesn’t flinch at Stiles’ exclamation.
He’s too busy flinching at everything else.
 
Requested by the lovely nohomohomie, who asked for something angsty post-nogitsune.
Has got to be one of my favourite canon teenage/de-aged Derek fics, with beautiful, angsty Sterek, of course.
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You're Not You by CallieB on Archive of Our Own
Words: 5266
Chapters: 1/1
Part 9 of the Sterek Bingo 2017 series
Summary:
Stiles lifts his head slowly, meeting Derek’s gaze. His eyes… they’re always clever, bright, perceptive, but today there’s something in them that Derek doesn’t recognise. He’s pale, but not defeated. He looks stronger than Derek expected. And unexpectedly, he feels it flash through him in a bolt of absolute, though surprised, certainty.
That's not Stiles.
 
Written for the Dark!Stiles square on my Sterek Bingo card.
This story is possibly one of the best EVER Void!Stiles stories I have ever read. The idea is complex and fascinating and unique. After I read this for the first time I was left stunned and I kept coming back to it in my mind as well as to read because I couldn't get over the idea. It's beautiful.
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Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles by CallieB on Archive of Our Own
Words: 3609
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Yeah, pass the salt, Stiles.
They're not particularly inspiring words. Not like the long stream of goo spilling over Scotty's arm. But somewhere, Stiles' soulmate is out there, waiting to say them to him.
If only he could stop thinking about the mysterious hot stranger he met in the woods...
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Author: CallieB
This author has 15 Teen Wolf works, most if not all are Sterek. Some of them in particular really hit somewhere special.
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Behind Locked Doors by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) on Archive of Our Own
Words: 11128
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Derek often showed up in his room—at least he used the fucking door now that he knew where the spare key was hidden—and he couldn’t escape people in general in the Jeep since they could see him through the window. His dad was home, and when he wasn’t, there was always the risk of other people showing up.
His bathroom, on the other hand? No, his bathroom was a small room with no window in the middle of the house with a lockable door and no judgement. He could sit in the bathroom for hours, and no one would question it. Was he watching porn on his phone and jerking off? Was he taking a massive dump? Did he have constipation? Was he stitching up the millionth injury of the month in private? Who knew? No one but Stiles!
The locked door at his back felt like a safety net for him sometimes. In the bathroom, he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to smile and wave people’s words off, insist he was fine, laugh and act like everything was okay. In the bathroom, he was allowed to sit on the floor, his expression tight, and his body falling apart on him.
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Author: isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
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Should Have Looked on Craigslist by Akiruchan on Archive of Our Own
Words: 27217
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Derek is rash and self-sacrificing, everything that will one day get him killed. Stiles doesn't want that. He's become too accustomed to a life with Derek Hale in it. To live without, well, it just doesn't seem to be an option.
or...
The five times Stiles' expectations fall short, and the one time he's glad they do.
This is an incredible, slow burn, build of the winding relationship between Stiles and Derek and the world they now live in, side by side. It's wonderful and blessedly long.
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Bless You by Ankiruchan on Archive of Our Own
Words: 3070
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
It all started with a sneeze...
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Lend Me Your Eyes, Give Me Your Heart by Ankiruchan on Archive of Our Own
Words: 3057
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Stiles’ life sucks. He’s honest enough with himself to admit to at least that. More often than not he spends his free time running for his life, saving people from creatures who want to rip his face off, and all around having a distinct lack of self-preservation. It sort of comes with the territory. Not something he can avoid when his circle of friends happen to be werewolves.
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Nobody's Fault But Mine by Akiruchan on Archive of Our Own
Words: 26552
Chapters: 4/?
Summary:
Stiles has always been good at ignoring his problems. Preferring to wait them out until they are nothing but a distant memory. But when a midnight stroll leads to a nasty scratch to Stiles side, courtesy of Derek, Stiles finds that some things just can't be ignored, not that he doesn't try. Better hearing and improved eyesight, that is something he can ignore for now. The sudden urge to touch and smell Derek all the time? Not so much.
This is werewolf!Stiles, and it's one the of the laid back, kind, intense versions that I enjoy very much. Unfortunately, I think it's been discontinued, but I believe even so, these 4 chapters are worth the little heartbreak that comes with the knowledge it may not be finished.
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Author: Akiruchan
This author is responsible for some of the best slow build Sterek stories I've read.
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Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own
Words: 25960
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.
I've come back to this so many times. The relationship is so vulnerable, down to earth and open and kind, extremely kind, which is something Derek really lacks in his life, someone to be kind to him. There's a feeling, somehow, that this is quite natural for them.
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In Case Of Emergency by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own
Words: 1826
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Derek falls through Stiles's bedroom window at ten past midnight.
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By Any Other Name by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own
Words: 33090
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.
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I Could Find My Way Back by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own
Words: 6250
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
What's the worst that could happen?
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Author: entanglednow
This author is responsible for so many amazing fics out there. They have 55 Teen Wolf fics, all with really interesting ideas and takes on the characters and supernatural world.
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You want forgiveness (I'll give that to you) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) on Archive of Our Own
Words: 2806
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Derek is running from the Alpha, suffering from wolfsbane poisoning and he’s clearly losing it. Why else would he be seeing his mother - and everyone else he might as well have killed himself. But Stiles can’t just let him get what he deserves. Stiles never leaves him behind, even when he should.
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(Fuck you they said) As they threw their threads from their wedding bed by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) on Archive of Our Own
Words: 96199
Chapters: 9/9
Summary:
First Son Stiles Stilinski just accidentally caused an international incident. And apparently the only way to save human-werewolf relations is to marry him off to Prince Derek of Triskele. Stiles is going to need all of his acting skills to make the marriage look real, because the Prince is kind of a fucking asshole.
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Author: dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)
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fake empire by Poe on Archive of Our Own
Words: 3685
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Stiles hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He was going to tell Derek. The whole truth of it. He was halfway through when the phone rang. A half-finished sentence, left hanging in the air as his life crumbled around him.
*
(or: Stiles gets so, so lost. But he finds himself again.)
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you all over me by Poe on Archive of Our Own
Words: 3705
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
The thing about Stiles is, Derek thinks, is that he has no idea how enthralling he truly is. He’s easy to overlook, right up until the point he isn’t, and at some stage, Derek started looking, and now, it’s all he can do.
(or: the one where the pack is happy, healthy and alive, and Stiles and Derek are sort of inevitable)
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Author: Poe
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For If Dreams Die by veritas_st on Archive of Our Own
Words: 24169
Chapters: 8/8
Summary:
“I had a dream about a boy last night,” Mischief says through a mouthful of pancakes. His dad points the spatula at him and he swallows before he says anything else. “His name was Derek. He called me Stiles. I want to be called that from now on.”
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Author: veritas_st
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About Today by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own
Words: 8901
Chapters: 1/1
Part 1 of the inside these arms series
Summary:
Stiles is having the worst day of his life and it keeps happening.
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Until Tomorrow by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own
Words: 9016
Chapters: 1/1
Part 2 of the inside these arms series
Summary:
Derek's worst nightmares didn't prepare him for this.
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Let it be me by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own
Words: 1495
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
After everything that happened, Stiles goes to see Derek.
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Even the stars they burn by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own
Words: 5770
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
Derek finds out quite by accident what makes Stiles shut up. If he reveals along the way that he didn't always carry this darkness around, then that's entirely Stiles' fault.
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Solstice. by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own
Words: 4119
Chapters: 1/1
Summary:
It's the first total lunar eclipse during winter solstice in three hundred and fifty years and Derek has no idea what's going to happen.
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Author: rufflefeather
This author has some intense, sometimes heartbreakingly endearing, and wonderful Teen Wolf fics.
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Hear The Wheels As They Roll by crossroadswrite on Archive of Our Own
Words: 44919
Chapters: 2/2
Summary:
“You can’t be here. This is private property,” someone calls out and for some reason that voice sounds painfully familiar.
When it hits him why, Stiles almost chokes with the realization, “Derek Hale,” he says, unbelievably happy because he remembers Derek when they were young.
Derek looks grumpier, sadder, angrier. Stiles can’t really fault him for that. He also looks surprised that Stiles knows who he is. He squint/glares suspiciously at him, his nostrils flare for a second before he widens his eyes almost dramatically.
“Stiles,” he says quietly, like he can’t really believe it.
Stiles beams, “Yeah, you remember me!”
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Author: crossroadswrite
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132 notes · View notes
hammeredalcoholic · 3 years
Text
im so sorry
killer queen/reader ; NSFW/18+
i literally had a dream about this and my mind would not shut up until i wrote it im sorry, this is so self indulgent 
Tumblr media
“Killer Queen,” The words drifted from your lips, barely above a whisper. The Stand in question was quite literally sprawled on top of you, its hands playfully toying with your hair. You placed a hand on its head, softly scratching the spots behind its ears. 
This isn’t the first time that Queen has done this to you. It was quite frequent, being that every time Kira let his guard down at home, his Stand would immediately latch onto you. 
It was cute. 
It made you feel so loved, knowing that Killer Queen was essentially your husband’s soul, only more cat-like and emotional. Yoshikage wasn’t the most clingy person in the world, but the fact that his stand decided to cuddle up with you said practically everything. 
Plus, Kira was a busy man. He liked to keep up his routine, and sometimes, spending quality time with you wasn’t quite possible. It’s not that it mattered much though, he was certainly doing his best, and that’s what counted in your eyes. 
Killer Queen let out a purr, its hands moving away from your hair and towards your chest. Sometimes, Queen would fall asleep against your chest, meaning that Yoshikage was most likely dozing off wherever he was in the house. It always managed to warm your heart. 
But tonight was different. 
It was a subtle difference in how Queen was acting-- its eyes blown out and wide, curious. Its hands were no different, moving slowly down to your chest, watching as they ran over your breasts, softly kneading the material of your shirt. 
Killer Queen hadn’t done this before, despite being very touchy-feely with you. The stray gasp that left your lips caused the Stand to stop, its eyes quickly going to your face. It watched you silently, their hands still sitting on your chest. 
Your cheeks felt incredibly hot. 
Why was Queen doing this? 
And why was it bringing out such a reaction from you?
It’s not like you were touch starved or anything. Kira was a good husband, he took care of the many-- uh, needs that you had. But, if you were thinking clearly, it had been a week or so since you last had the chance to get your husband alone. 
Yoshikage had been working more overtime lately, as well as bringing home some paperwork to do.
Would it be so bad to indulge in this? 
Killer Queen was technically your husband’s soul, after all. 
In the time you were thinking, Killer Queen was studying every slight movement of your body. When you finally came to the conclusion that you could enjoy this, you relaxed back into the couch. Another tranquil purr was heard, followed by gentle gropes of your chest. 
Being slightly curious yourself, you let your hands slide up the Stand’s thighs, feeling the almost velvet like skin. The shiver that racked Killer Queen’s body surprised you, their eyes sliding shut momentarily. 
That’s when you remembered. 
Kira can feel whatever happens to Queen. Kira can also feel anything that Queen touches.
Did that mean your husband had been feeling you up this whole time? 
The thought alone was enough to make your thighs clench together. Killer Queen’s hands trailed lower, moving to slip under your shirt. Its hands traced your exposed skin, sharp claws scraping against your flesh. 
God, you could get used to this. 
Their hands quickly found your bra, then stopped. Its bright pink eyes sparkled with curiosity, before practically ripping the material of your shirt in half. 
“Queen!” You gasped, your hands gripping their thighs with fever. As soon as your bra was exposed, the curiosity in its eyes was back. A single clawed digit ran across the underwire, playing with the small lace bow that was stitched between the cups.
Your face quickly heated up again, watching as the Stand played with it, before dipping a claw under the material. Within moments, the article was ripped in half, falling loose on your chest. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, before looking up Queen. 
Its soft pink eyes dragged across your breasts, almost studying them. Soon enough, it’s gloved hands were groping your skin, with the gentlest touch. You quickly bit your lip to quiet a moan, the flesh of their fingertips felt delicious. 
Your fingers gracefully felt their way up the Stand’s thighs once more, touching softly along the ridges in its skin. You briefly wondered if a Stand could even have genitals. It seemed rather nonsensical, they were only a figment of a person’s soul-- but you still wondered. 
You let your eyes run over the being on top of you, their bright pink eyes still focused on your chest. Despite the obvious cat ears on it’s head, Killer Queen was built like a human. A wide chest and toned abs, chiseled arms and legs-- oh.
It seemed like you had gotten your answer. 
Between the Stand’s legs, almost obscured by the belt it wore around their hips was its cock. It definitely wasn’t human, ridges lining the shaft and small bumps lining the tip. It was also decently bigger than your husband’s, from what you could tell. 
Killer Queen must have noticed your attention on it, as their hips pushed down and rocked against your pelvis. You didn’t even realize how worked up you had gotten until a harsh moan was ripped from your throat, your pulse practically thumping in your ears. They continued their motions, hands moving from your breasts down to your hips, claws digging into the flesh just slightly. 
Holy fuck.
You couldn’t help but open your legs, letting Queen have more access. It felt so good, pressing up against your clothed core deliciously. Before it resumed grinding against you, one of their hands quickly unclasped the belt, letting it fall to the couch with a dull thud. 
You didn’t know how much longer you could last. 
Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait.
Killer Queen’s claws gripped the waistband of your pants, almost tearing them right off your body. With minor adjustments, you managed to slip out of them, leaving yourself completely naked in front of them. 
“Killer Queen,” You barely breathed, your hands moving to grasp at their shoulders. 
You could feel your arousal practically dripping onto the couch, their eyes watching you like a hawk. Within moments your position was moved, Killer Queen flipping you onto your stomach. Their claws slowly traced your back, down to your ass, before pulling your legs apart. 
Arching your back just slightly, you tried hard not to let your excitement show, but when the tip of Queen’s cock teased your entrance, it was hard not to be impatient. You gasped at the feeling, the feel of its skin completely different and alien to you. 
Killer Queen’s hips leaned forward just slightly, pressing against your hole. One of their hands smoothed its way up your back, tangling in your hair and pressing your face into the cushion. Without even a second passing, Queen pressed into you, sliding it’s cock between your folds with extreme precision. 
It felt like heaven.
Gasps fell from your lips, only to be muffled by the couch. The small bumps and ridges felt amazing, rubbing up against your walls and pressing into all your sweet spots. They were stretching you, and a spike of pleasure ran up your spine from the burn.
You briefly wondered what Yoshikage was feeling. 
With a firm thrust from Killer Queen’s hips, that train of thought easily fell off the rails. 
The Stand didn’t wait more than a minute for you to adjust, pulling out their cock and slamming back in with rushed fever. You quickly planted your foot on the floor, desperately trying to meet their thrusts. 
Killer Queen’s hands moved to the couch cushion, its claws digging into the material. You couldn’t hold back your voice, letting out harsh whines with every snap of the Stand’s hips. 
You’ve used some odd toys before, but nothing has ever felt like this. 
“God, fuck, Queen…!” You almost screamed, their cock easily hitting your g-spot. With your loud whimpers and cries they continued to hit it mercilessly, digging its claws deeper into the cushion. You felt a familiar tingle in your abdomen, like a burning coil tightening, ready to burst at any moment. 
Yoshikage has never managed to make you cum like this. 
With another harsh thrust, your vision went white. Your orgasm hit hard, rushing over your body like a wave. Your legs shook under you, high pitched moans leaving your lips. 
You clenched hard around Killer Queen, and with a few more hurried thrusts, you felt something warm spread inside you. Did they actually cum inside you? How was that possible? 
Not having the energy to question any further, you let your body relax against the couch. Queen pulled out of you gently, its claws moving to softly run down your back. 
Hurried footsteps were heard from the hall, and you turned your head towards the door. 
Kira quickly came to the doorway, looking completely and utterly fucked. His pants were unbuckled, something staining the lavender fabric. Tie discarded and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. 
His cheeks were painted pink, and blond hair tousled and sweaty. 
“I--” He started, this voice shaking and uneven. 
“I didn’t know that was possible.” You said, your body and mind too exhausted to really comprehend anything. Your husband’s eyes widened, before he ran a hand through his curls. 
“I didn’t either.”
343 notes · View notes
Text
Home Is Where You Are
Summary:  Morro loved his cousin more than anything in the world. Sadly, the rest of Ninjago couldn't seem to share that kind of affection. or In which Lloyd gets stabbed and Morro would like to do nothing more than join forces with his uncle and burn the entire city down.
[Movieverse]
Sometimes Morro wanted to beat up the world. Punch it until its only remains were about the size of a football and then burn it until the ashes of the ashes had ashes.
Sometimes, was most of the time.
But it really wasn’t his fault that the world had to be a stupid place filled with stupid people, that formed a stupid society that had somehow normalized the bullying of a fifteen year old boy, for something he had no control over.
That fifteen year old boy also happened to be his cousin, Lloyd Garmadon, son of evil Lord Garmadon, a warlord who attacked Ninjago on a weekly basis, trying to conquer it.
And while, obviously, everyone in Ninjago had labelled Lord Garmadon as “evil”, their tiny, tiny brains (if brains the size of a peanut could even pass for brains anymore) somehow had come up with the idea that Lloyd was “evil” too. Why? Because he was his son. Simple as that.
No one cared about the fact that the boy had never met his dad, hell, he had never even as much as exchanged a single word with him and Morro wasn’t even sure if Garmadon knew that his son existed.
But somehow that went over everyone’s heads because Lloyd Garmadon was blamed for every attack and every inconvenience in the city – he was easily the second most hated person in Ninjago, right after Lord Garmadon himself, of course.
The thing was, Lord Garmadon had it easy – in Morro’s humble opinion – because the warlord got to attack the city and then simply vanish back into his volcano in the middle of the sea – with no one able to reach him. And with Lord Garmadon being out of reach, Lloyd had to catch all the fists flying at him, all the insults people would throw against his head. The people just wanted to let their hatred and frustration out at someone – and that someone, was his little cousin.
Morro did his best to protect him as much as he possibly could, he loved the boy with his whole heart, he was his whole pride and joy. He was like a light in a dark for him, leading his way, giving him something to hold onto. But sadly, Morro wasn’t always able to be there, when he needed him. He couldn’t always pick fights for Lloyd and he knew that the fifteen year old would rather die than fight someone. His cousin wasn’t much for physical violence.
He understood why, though.
If Lloyd were to snap, it would be instantly used by everyone as some stupid “evidence” that he was just like his father, that he was evil and that he was going to destroy them all and join forces with Lord Garmadon.
Bullshit. The elder hated how stupid and blind Ninjago's citizens were.
Lloyd wasn’t evil, never had been evil, never even did anything remotely evil.
They were the real bad guys. All of them. Hypocrites. How dare they call his baby cousin a “villain-in-the-making” when they were the ones cursing him out, insulting him on the daily, trending disgusting songs about him and beating him up. And what did Lloyd do? He just took it. Took all the insults, took all the punches, never daring to stand up for himself or returning the favor. And why?
Because Lloyd was good.
Too good, for his own good, Morro thought as he looked up at his cousin's face, seeing silently tears streaming over his cheek.
“Tell me who did this to you,” the raven head's voice stern and stable as his hands made his way to his bleeding abdomen again, pushing a tissue on it to try and stop the bleeding.
Lloyd bit his lip, like he always did when he was nervous. His eyes continued to stare at the tiles of Morro’s bathroom, filling with tears once again. He shook his head quickly, blond locks stained with blood falling into his face.
“Lloyd.”
A sigh escaped him.
He loved his cousin but sometimes he just wanted to take him and squeeze his stubbornness out of him.
“This wasn’t a usual attack anymore, Lloyd. They stabbed you! They are getting bolder with their stupidity. You need to go to the police with this, they–”
“‘They’ what?” Lloyd’s head turned to him, looking at him in desperation and anger. “Don’t you get it? The police don't care about what happens to me! They could find me bleeding out on the street and they would just walk over me as if I were–,” the words suddenly seemed to be stuck in his throat, making him lower his gaze, once again, in – in embarrassment? In sadness? He wasn’t sure.
Morro’s eyes widened slightly, once he realized that Lloyd was right.
The police were just as shitty as the rest of the citizens of Ninjago. They already treated him as if he were a criminal, even though Lloyd probably had the cleanest criminal record in the whole city.
Stupid police, stupid people, stupid–
He silently nodded to himself, trying to think of what they were going to do next.
“Okay, no police then, but we need to get you to the hospi–”
“No!” The teen interrupted him once again, which was honestly getting quite annoying. Usually he would be the one interrupting the other. “No hospital! My mom can’t know about this and–” a hiss escaped his lips as Morro pulled the tissue from his wound, dry blood ripping from his skin. “–we can’t afford it. We need to deal with this on our own, it’s not that deep anyways.”
“Lloyd, it’s a stab wound.”
“I’ve gotten away with worse injuries, without going to the hospital.”
He felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
Morro was quite aware of the dozen of times Lloyd would come back from battle with his Ninja Gi looking way too much like Kai’s because – oh, hadn’t he mentioned?
Lloyd was the Green Ninja, sworn to protect Ninjago from his father. Protecting the people that bullied him. Just another reason he sometimes wanted to burn this city down and go a bit warlord like his uncle – but that would also mean that he would, probably, have to fight Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes. So he shrugged his warlord ambitions under the rug.
“Okay, we can deal with this,” the elder bit the inside of his cheek, silently wishing for his dad to be here to deal with this instead.
He didn’t like seeing Lloyd hurt. It broke his heart.
“It’ll need stitches, though.”
He noticed immediately how the younger's palms started to grab the rim of the bathtub he was sitting on, as if his life depended on it, knuckles going white. “Okay,” he gritted out quietly.
He hated this, everything about this. It felt so, so wrong.
Lloyd shouldn’t be sitting in his bathroom, white as a sheet, seemingly near to passing out from blood loss. Morro shouldn’t have to stitch him up because he couldn’t go to the hospital or the police. His tiles shouldn’t be coated in Lloyd’s blood. And for fucks sake, Lloyd shouldn’t have been spotting a stab wound to begin with.
“I hate this too you know,” the blond’s voice was quiet but audible, nonetheless. Morro could only nod as he grabbed his medical kit from the cabinet.
---------------------------------------------
"If I had the chance to, I'd kill the people that did this to you."
"I know, that's why I'm not giving you their names," Lloyd's voice sounded a bit too calm, too collected to be talking about the people that had just tried to kill him.
Morro hid his face behind his palms, trying his best not to scream in frustration. "You shouldn't be protecting them like this. They're criminals, they tried to murder you and all you do is– is–,” a groan escaped his lips.
“Lloyd, I swear to fucking god, you can't keep doing this.”
His words made the room go quiet, not one of the teens daring to say another word. The nineteen year old's eyes wandered over to look at his cousin, who was currently busy biting onto his lip, his expression unreadable and Morro worried that he might have gone too far.
The young teen’s head tilted, teary emerald eyes meeting his own. “Do you think I like this?” a bitter laugh escaped him, though it sounded more like a gasp for air. “I don't like this any more than you do, believe me! You have no idea what it is like to wake up and be scared because you don't know what people will do to you! But there's nothing I can do about it and I've accepted that.”
The raven head felt the blood in his hands run cold, grabbing his cousin by the wrists, shaking him slightly. “Lloyd, you shouldn't accept it just like that! You– you deserve better than how these people treat you.”
“Morro, I know you mean well but,” the blond twisted himself out of his grip. “I was hopeful for so long. I tried to believe that people would change and I tried to let them see that I'm not who they think I am but it didn't do anything – it only made me feel worse. There's nothing I can do. I can't fight back, you know that.”
And he hated how right Lloyd was.
He still remembered how, a few years ago, the younger would cry himself to sleep every night because he just couldn't seem to find friends, no matter how hard he had tried. He still remembered how he would cling onto Morro and sob his soul out until he simply didn't have any tears to spare because he thought something was wrong with him. Otherwise the entire city wouldn't hate him, right?
Morro also still remembered the stinging pain in his chest as he had wiped away the smaller's tears and held him close – trying to be as much of a help as he could but still feeling absolutely useless.
So really, Morro was a fool to believe that Lloyd wouldn't stop caring at some point. It had done nothing but worsen the pain.
That didn't mean he had to like it, though.
“Listen, I know I've told you this many, many times before but–,” he looked out the window, onto the city that had hurt them so much. Onto the city that was ruining Lloyd's life. Onto the city that would possibly be the death of him at some point– He pushed the anger, threatening to overflow, back into the bottle of emotions where it belonged. “What they say,” he spoke quietly but with so much venom in his voice that Lloyd couldn't help but wince. “It doesn't matter. Nothing they say matters, so don't you dare put any worth onto their words–,“ anything Morro had planned to say suddenly vanished to dust as two arms threw themselves around him tightly, blond locks tickling his face.
“I know–,” his whisper left the room numb as a sob escaped his throat, his head just pushing itself more onto Morro's chest. “I know and I'm just so glad that I have you and the others.”
He could feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt and started to play with the blond strands of hair, in an attempt to calm his cousin down.
“It's just so much sometimes and I– I–,” the small voice broke and Morro could swear he could feel his eyes starting to sting.
Silent shushing and sobs were the only sound that filled the room from then on. It was almost suffocating, the contrast from his once so happy and bubbly cousin to– well, to how he was now. The citizens of Ninjago had managed to break his spirit in unimaginable ways.
They broke his baby cousin because they were stupid and egoistic, because they wanted someone to let their anger out on and decided to use Lloyd as a punching bag instead of going to therapy or something for their anger issues–
The nineteen year old, however, really shouldn't be the one talking about people and their anger issues, considering how his own bottled up anger at the citizens started to slowly make its way back to the surface once more.
“I would burn this entire city down if I could,” his voice was drenched in bitterness, Lloyd nonetheless found the strength in himself to laugh, making him calm down slightly.
“That seems like something my dad would say.”
“Well, it seems like him and I would agree on that part, then.”
“Mhm.”
Morro looked down to where his counterpart had now comfortably snuggled up on him, his eyes still puffy but no longer as teary like they were half a second ago. He released a breath he didn't know he had held.
He didn’t know how to fix this. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could fix this even if he really wanted to. The only way he knew he could protect Lloyd from this city was by simply taking him and running away, going somewhere else where nobody knew them. He knew that that was impossible though. Aunt Koko couldn’t just leave everything behind and even if she could, Lloyd probably wouldn’t even want to leave because of his duties as the Green Ninja – because he was a self-sacrificing fool who apparently never learned to put his own needs before others.
And Morro wanted to be proud of him for it – really wanted to, because his cousin sacrificed his needs for the greater good. It was brave and noble of him and he should be proud. Perhaps the nineteen year old was a terrible person for even questioning it but– Every so often, usually when Lloyd came home spotting injuries which he knew hadn’t come from fighting Garmadon, he wondered if risking your life for a city that couldn’t care less whether you were alive or dead, was worth it – and in Lloyd’s case they would probably be more than thrilled to see him gone.
Well, until they’d notice that they no longer had a Green Ninja to protect them.
Cowards.
“Your angry thoughts are practically clogging up the air. Can you turn them down, for just one second–”
“Brat,” Morro huffed under his breath a small smirk placing itself onto his lips. It vanished as soon as it had appeared. “My cousin showed up on my front porch with a stab wound, I think I have every right to be angry,” Lloyd frowned, letting go of the elder.
“Morro, not this again. I swear–”
“I mean, you never show up and the only reason you did today was because you were bleeding to death. Seriously, am I not cool enough to get a visit by my annoying cousin anymore,” the raven haired teen grinned at the blond with his eyebrows raised, in an attempt to lighten the mood and get rid of the tense feeling that had settled between them ever since Lloyd had sat down in his bathroom.
He could always let out his bottled up anger on that Chen guy from the Cheer Squad. The smaller had told him something about the boy giving him a hard time, some time ago, hadn’t he?
“What? No! You’re plenty cool– I just didn’t– you know school stuff and my dad and–,”, he stumbled over his words making Morro laugh.
“Lloyd, chill,” he said, making his way up to his desk to get his phone and text Aunt Koko. She probably was already worried sick now that he thought about it “I was just messing with you. I know you’re busy, it’s fine.”
He felt the other stare at him for a second, unable to make out his thoughts, just before–
“You miss me!”
He almost dropped his phone in surprise at the sudden statement. “Wait, wait, no– Who told you that?”
“It’s obvious,” Lloyd mused, walking up behind Morro and placing his chin on his shoulder. “You miss me~ Morro misses me~”
For a second he stopped typing, sighing. “Shut up, I see you enough on TV, to not miss you– For real do they ever show something other than clips of the oh-so-great Green Ninja? Like, we got it, you’re cool and all that. Can we move on? I wanna watch the new episode of Starfarer.”
“Sounds like someone’s jealous.”
“Am not.”
“Sure are. Bet you wanna be the Green Ninja yourself. Do I have to lock myself in my room when I sleep at night because you might come in and murder me to take my spot–”
“Oh you definitely should because I might come in and choke you to death for being annoying,” he rolled his eyes, sending the text to his aunt. “Besides, I got my wind powers. What do I need a stupid title for anyways?”
“Not like you use them a lot,” Lloyd replied snarkily, already going over to Morro’s bed and letting himself fall onto the, in his opinion, too hard mattress. “I guess that I’m staying the night?”
Morro just nodded, already looking for more comfortable clothes for Lloyd to sleep in. “Sure are. You don’t think that I’m letting you go out alone right now, do you?”
His cousin sighs. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“We saw how that went, didn’t we?” Morro replies a bit too harshly, almost wanting to take it back immediately, but he knew he was right. The sun had already set outside and Lloyd had just gotten stitches, if he was going to be attacked there’d be no way for him to get out of that fight unharmed. So Morro was going to keep him right where he was. With him.
He only got a hum in response, the younger probably being either too tired to take up another discussion on the matter or just not caring enough to try. Either way, he was fine with it.
“Hey sleepyhead!” he called, throwing the pair of joggers and a shirt right at Lloyd’s face, making a startled cry escape the blond. “Don’t you fall asleep on my bed, you’re sleeping on the couch.”
“You’re a big meanie,” the young Garmadon mumbled, taking the clothes off of his face but smiling slightly, nonetheless.
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna get some water now. If you drift off while I’m away, I will wake you up.”
And true to his word, he left the room, not even waiting for an answer from Lloyd and entering the kitchen, collapsing on one of the chairs, suddenly feeling the tension pushing him down like weights that weren’t actually there.
He buried his face in his palms as soon as he felt his eyes starting to sting.
“Get a grip,” he hissed quietly to himself. He was a Wu for God’s sake. He didn’t cry, that was something for bratty little Garmadon’s with blond hair and no sense of self-preservation, who got themselves killed almost every day and– Fuck.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips, which was soon followed by hot tears streaming down his face.
He was angry. Angry at the city for treating Lloyd the way they did. Angry at Lloyd for not being more careful. Angry at himself for not having been there– But most importantly, he was scared. (Not that he was going to admit that to the Green Ninja, who already felt enough like a burden, even though he wasn’t.)
He was scared of losing his cousin. This whole ordeal had started with petty comments and glances, now they actually went out of their way and harmed him physically, stabbed him. Where was this going to end? When would it be enough for them?
Morro gulped. The only answers he could think of for these questions were terrifying and implied scenarios in which he would no longer have a little cousin to be annoyed at, he’d no longer worry if his family would still be whole after yet another Garmadon attack (because it wouldn't be whole to begin with), there’d be no more clips on TV of Lloyd fighting a bit too overdramatically and doing far too many backflips and there would be no more “Hey Emo-Boy, can I crash at your place? I’m bored” texts, hitting him at 3 am every once in a while.
A world without Lloyd would be an empty one, Morro figures. It would be cold and it would be lonely and he would rather die than live through it.
His legs carried him to the sink, filling the glass in his hands, which he didn’t remember grabbing, with water and chugging it down immediately. Maybe he should grab one of the bottles in the fridge for the teen in the other room – aside from blood loss he really did not need to face dehydration as well.
He spent a second leaning against the fridge with his forehead, desperately attempting to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t be an emotional mess in front of Lloyd, especially not now. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who always kept a clear head. 
But after stitching up your cousin's wounds you were allowed to be at least a little shaken up, he supposed.
He took a deep breath, opening the fridge and taking one of the cool water bottles, before making his way up to his room and entering it, just to be greeted by– snoring?
For fucks sake-
Morro’s eyes fell onto the boy laying still on his bed, almost about to shake him and send him to the living room to sleep, but instead he froze, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and– Oh God, if his heart hadn’t broken yet it definitely was now.
He had been so focused on his wounds and being mad at the city that he hadn’t even noticed how exhausted Lloyd looked.
He bit hard onto his lip, only watching the boy, his mind suddenly going blank.
The Son of Garmadon hadn’t even properly put the blanket over himself – but hey, at least he had changed out of his Gi. Morro was going to give him credits for that.
Walking up to the nightstand next to the bed as quietly as he could, the Master of Wind placed the bottle he was still holding onto the little table, for the other to find once he woke up.
Seemed like he would have to sleep on the couch, after all. He made a face at the thought of the back pain he was going to wake up in tomorrow, but at least Lloyd would get proper rest for a night. He could be happy enough that the boy would even be able to be here tomorrow.
Before he knew it his hands had already grabbed the blanket, softly tucking his cousin in. If Lloyd could see him right now he’d most likely call him a big sap, which he, maybe, was but it’s not like his counterpart was any better. And it wasn’t exactly like the young Ninja wasn’t testing his sanity on the daily.
He hummed quietly to himself, already walking out of the room again and turning the lights off. His eyes fell onto his sofa in the living room.
“You and me, huh?” he mumbled, looking like he was on the way towards his deathbed.
But sleeping on the sofa was worth all the back pain in the world as long as he did it for Lloyd.
Because that meant that he still had a squeaky voiced, self-sacrificial, idiot cousin to return to.
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namelesswolffreak · 3 years
Text
"Boyfriends"
I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.
Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.
--------------
The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.
The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.
Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.
“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.
Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.
Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.
His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.
The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.
“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.
He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.
The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”
“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.
“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.
For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.
And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.
“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.
“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”
Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”
By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!
“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.
“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”
And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.
“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.
“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.
He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.
"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"
“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”
And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.
Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!
…………
………….
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”
“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”
There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.
“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”
“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”
“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”
Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.
“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.
Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.
“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”
“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”
Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.
It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.
And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.
Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.
A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.
It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.
“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.
“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”
Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.
“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.
Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.
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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years
Text
Incidentally In Love (8/?)
Charlie Weasley/Reader
Rating: T & up ( Trigger: Pregnancy , mildly suggestive scene at the end but not explicit )
Word Count: 1660
Masterlist Link I AO3 Link
Summary: Sleeping with Charlie Weasley was easy. He was charming, and handsome, and was quite talented in bed... Finding out you're pregnant with your casual fuck buddies baby was not easy.
Reader's journey through co-parenting, an overbearing Molly Weasley who wants reader to marry her son to give the baby a "real family", and maybe falling a tiny bit in love with her baby daddy.
Enjoy
"Happy Christmas," I hear him mumble in my ear.
"Morning," I slowly turn towards him. Charlie looks awful. 
"I feel awful," he groans, shielding his eyes from the morning sunlight.
I roll my eyes, "You drank a lot."
"Don't remind me. How long do you think we can lay here before someone comes investigating."
"Not long. Besides, I need to stretch my back out." I hate how I can't get up on my own as I attempt to sit up. 
"Hey, (y/n)," Charlie says suddenly as I get to my feet, "Did I do anything last night that was--uh odd?"
I freeze, unsure if I should tell him about our little conversation and the many kisses we shared, "Do you not remember anything?"
His eyes widen as his cheeks quickly turn red, "What did I do?"
I grin, "Can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not upset, and it wasn't the worst thing you could do...but I just want to focus on Christmas and then settling back home."
He looks distraught but nods fervently regardless.
We make our way down the staircase, Charlie grumbling about it being too bright and too loud. He's got one hand on my lower back, the other holding onto the railing as he makes sure I don't miss a stair or get injured in any possible way. 
"Happy Christmas!" Fred and George yell in unison. The bastards know Charlie drank too much, as I suspect they are the ones who kept refilling his glass and are being loud on purpose. Charlie scowls at them.
"No need to be such a grouch, Charles. It's Christmas Morning!" Fred grins mischievously.
"Yeah, Charlie. Lighten up, mate." George claps Charlie on the shoulder.
"Shut it, both of you," Charlie growls. I've never seen Charlie so...annoyed before. 
"Honestly, (y/n). I don't know how you put up with him."
I grin, "I don't think I had ever seen him so drunk before. This is all new to me."
Charlie gives me an apologetic look, "I don't usually..."
"'ts fine. Just remind me never to let it happen again." I laugh nervously. Why does everything future tense sound so domestic between us?
Molly gets everyone settled in the living room before passing out gifts. Charlie is to my right, allowed to sit on the couch this morning because of his hangover.
"Do you need anything?" Molly asks me.
"Oh! No, thank you." I turn towards Charlie, who's irritatedly rubbing his eyes, "Actually, a glass of water if it's not too much."
Molly taps my knee once before disappearing into the kitchen. She returns moments later with the glass of water, handing it to Charlie. 
"Thank you," I smile at her.
"Of course, dear." She turns to grab something from her husband. It's a parcel wrapped in maroon paper, tied with a green bow. "And this is for you."
"For me? You didn't have to--"
"You're family, of course, we got you something." She sits back down as the rest of the family opens their gifts. Charlie's got one on his lap as well, but he waits to watch me.
"Are you--?"
"Um--okay." I rip off the thin paper, revealing a lavender knit sweater with my first initial stitched on the front in tan. 
Molly has made me my own sweater that matched the rest of the family. I hold it up, realizing that it's more than accommodating for my growing belly. I feel the rush of emotion overcome me over the sweet gift.
Like he's expecting this, Charlie's wiping away the stray tears that flow much too easily for getting a Christmas gift. 
"I love it," I assure Molly, "thank you." Charlie's got my face in his hands as he continues to wipe away the tears. I'm laughing and crying all at once. Laughing because it's ridiculous to cry over a Christmas gift, crying because it's the nicest thing anyone has made or got me in almost a year. And for the first time since May, I feel a part of something. Of course, I'm also crying because of the damn hormones that pick up on the slightest emotion and explode in an instant. 
I realize everyone's just sort of watching as I sob over the lavender sweater, except for Molly and Arthur, who probably are not too fazed by pregnancy hormones. 
"Sorry," I laugh, wiping away another stray tear. 
"Don't be," Charlie's voice is low as he wraps his arm around me, nuzzling into my neck. He discretely as possible tries to press a kiss to the edge of my jaw. I don't fight it. 
The tears finally dry up, and business goes back to normal. People pass gifts to one another, there are hugs and thank-yous and laughter. I lean against Charlie's shoulder as the joyful chaos develops around us.
"I got you something," Charlie whispers against my hair.
"Huh? You didn't have to buy me anything." I move to look at him.
"Truthfully, it's for the baby, but since they aren't here to see..." He summons a little brown bag, handing it to me.
I glance at him curiously before digging into the bag and pulling out a plush dragon. I feel the tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I examine the small toy. The tears spill down my face once again.
"Oi, Charlie. She just got done crying." Fred teases.
"I love it." I feel his fingers on my face. "The baby is going to love it."
"We're going to have a niece or nephew just as dragon-crazed as our brother. I can already tell." George says loudly to Fred. They both glance over at the two of us on the couch.
I smile at Charlie, "I wouldn't mind that." He's looking down at his hands, a little smile on his lips. "But, I didn't get you anything..."
"You're carrying our child. You don't have to get me anything."
***
Molly had knit a few things for the baby as well as her entire family's sweaters. "Just thought I'd get a headstart before they're born." She hands me the little bag. I pull out a yellow hat, admiring the beautiful stitching. 
"They're all lovely. Thank you so much." I place the hat back into the bag before I take her hand in mine, "And thank you for inviting me."
She fixes my wool scarf absentmindedly, like I'm one of her children, "Of course. Anytime you want to come over, even without Charlie, please come. We all very much enjoy your company." She beams at me, rubbing her hand up and down my arm.
"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciate the invitation."
"Anytime, dear."
***
"So what was it--What did I say last night?" He asks when we're cozied up on our own coach.
"You really don't remember--?"
"No," he doesn't look me in the eye.
I squirm in my seat, unsure how to start this conversation now that he says he doesn't remember anything he said or did. "Well, you kissed me last night."
"You let me kiss you? Did we--"
"No. No," I stop him mid-thought, "I would never take advantage of you while you were that intoxicated, Charlie. Never." I take his hand in mine, tracing over the cluster of freckles on his knuckles.
He looks at me with those soft blue eyes of his, "Then what happened?"
Sighing, I again summon the courage, "You said you wanted me to be yours? Many times."
He nervously chuckles, "I swear, I was drunk--"
"Be honest with me, Charlie. Do you--I mean--"
"I don't want to ruin this."
"And I don't want to lead you on or--make this any more complicated. I just..." I search for what the hell I want to say. On the one hand, I could just fall prey to the lingering feelings, and we could be together. But, there's always the possibility this doesn't work out, and not only have I lost my friend and lover, but the relationship we'll have to endure for the rest of our lives sharing a child will have become much harder than it needed to be. When I look at his freckled face, I can't help but think maybe he'd be worth the risk. "I don't hate the idea."
He perks up at the words, "Don't hate the idea of what?"
I'm not great at this clearly, "I don't hate... the idea of being yours."
"Yeah?" He leans in closer, his face inches from mine.
Leaning in, I whisper, "As long as you're willing to be mine as well."
"That's all I want," He grins, moving in the last inch to capture my lips against his. His hands grip at my waist, pulling me onto his lap. It's awkward with my stomach, but the space we can't squash between us, Charlie makes up for with his hands. They squeeze my hips, traveling under my sweater to my waist.
"You're so incredibly sexy," He mumbles against my lips, brushing his fingers slyly across my swollen stomach.
"I've been told." I smile, running my fingers through his hair.
Charlie pulls back, "By who?"
I cock my head, "Don't start getting jealous over your own words, Charles."
He flushes, "I--I said that last night?"
I nod, grinning widely, "Yup. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a slight pregnancy kink."
His eyes grow wide at my teasing words, "What--"
"Don't be shy with me now," I purr against his lips before kissing him deeper.
Charlie grips my hips harder, rolling his hips against mine. "Maybe just a little bit. You just look so...good."
"Yeah?" 
He kisses up my neck, biting gently at my earlobe. "So incredibly sexy."
"Take me to bed?" He groans, gently getting us up from the couch and on our feet. 
"You sure?" his fingers caress my jaw, gently tilting my chin, so I look into the soft steel blue of his eyes.
"'m Always sure with you."
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crispycrimebrulee · 3 years
Text
🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 11: Hisoka x Festive🎄
You would think, knowing Hisoka all this time, looking through his closet, inspecting his day-to-day outfit, studying his personality and all its nuances, that you would have figured out what types of things he likes to wear. In his closet was nothing but designer heels and crop tops, mixed in with fancy turtlenecks and couture brands and cuts and patterns, equal to that of a VOGUE Model’s closet. Bright colors, expensive fabric, you’d think the answer would jump out at you, but no. Here you were, sitting around, unsure of what to get him. Hisoka always made sure to look the part of the season too, at least once during all the festivities. Although those outfits were rare, he made sure they had their debut, retiring them for a year before pulling them out again. Winter Wonderland by Eurythmics 
Taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow , @lifescreams27, @twistedsmth​, @dukinaxael​, @weeb-chick-181920 @errorpeachy​ @my-child-gaara​ @absolute-flaming-trash​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ @demon-hugger​ @whistlingastronaut​​​
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Getting up, you walked over to his section in your closet and ran your fingers over his clothes, admiring the expensive fabrics as they passed between your fingertips. You couldn’t get him something overly expensive, seeing as that would make your bank account cry. Besides, picking out an item from a couture brand was never a good idea in terms of Hisoka, his tastes were peculiar but particular, being very picky about the pieces he owns. Moving your hand over to his jester get ups, you could see the small patching and different stitchings in them, suggesting the tears and rips had been sewn up by him or a tailor, but covered up nonetheless. It was almost unnoticeable if you weren’t close enough, but the outfits were somewhat tattered and well worn. Few things he had a love for, but his outfits were clearly one of them. You flipped through them, a sense of confusion slowly crawling into your mind. He had one in black and gold for New Years, one with hearts on it for Valentines Day, and every holiday up until Halloween, but the festive outfits stopped there. He had no Christmas outfit. The gaudiest possible outfit he could probably put together, and he didn’t have one at all. You’d been with him for quite some time, at least two Christmas’ together, but the most he’s ever had in terms of outfit was a Christmas hat, or the star and teardrop he adorned would be red and green.
Pulling one of his outfits from the closet, you set it on the bed before you, taking note of the fraying threads and patterns, thinking of perhaps fixing his outfits for him. Fixing them would be a gesture in itself, but not necessarily a gift. It was more like a thought of courtesy, or a simple act of love you could’ve done any other day of the year. You also knew getting him a gift from his favorite brands would also be a bit of moot point. 
On thoughts of earlier, it’s much easier to get a gift shrouded in a show of money, or shrouded in the capability to spend said money than find an appropriate gift that is an act of heart and thoughtfulness, because you realize the person you’re trying to gift has so many qualities and wonders that you’re trying to convey with the gift, that again, buying something generic, or something they asked for, or even a gift card was easier to produce. On another note, it’s quite difficult to impress Hisoka, furthermore difficult still to catch his attention with something. He’d said so himself in terms of your relationship; he was impressed by everything you are, and he’d admitted to you that you had most of his attention, being absolutely captivated by you. What could you give him that would captivate him, have all of his attention yet be a direct gift of heart, a gift full of meaning, conveying all that he meant to you. 
Running your fingers over the fabric inattentively as you let the gears turn, trying to figure out what would be suitable, you nearly jumped out of your skin to feel Hisoka’s breath tickle your ear. He always did have a knack for sneaking up on you when he wanted to.
“Somebody's brooding, I’d love to know what about~” Hisoka implored, using a lovely manicured nail to turn your face towards his own, his eyes boring into yours.
You pouted, seeing as you almost hurt yourself from being startled. You huffed in response to him, which earned you a giggle from the jester.
“Seems like I scared sweet y/n, eh?” commenting on your pout as he ran his fingers over your lips, his stare passing between them and your eyes.
Rolling your eyes you pulled away from him and picked up his outfit, making your way to put it back to the closet, but not before he pulled you back gently, quietly clicking his tongue.
“I don’t even get a hello, y/n?,” he began, poking your cheek and then poking your nose, “you clearly missed me, seeing as you’re fiddling with my clothes, dear~”
You scrunch your nose, and swat at his hands.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t” choosing to indulge his ego just a bit with your response.
Clearly it had as he pressed you closer to him, allowing his lips to hover over yours, making your chest tingle with anticipation, unable to deny that his kisses always held some sort of power over you. You grew antsy with him being this close to you, getting quickly fed up with his teasing. He took note of this, chuckling and closing the gap, allowing you to taste strawberry chapstick and bubblegum, soft and sweet, contrary to the actual person in question. 
He pulled away, humming at your pleased expression, poking your nose again as he let you go.
“I suppose you’ll tell me what you were brooding about now?” he queried again, cocking his head slightly as he watched you put his outfit away.
“No”, you answered, walking back to him and briefly peeking at banding on the clothing on his waist before passing him, “I won’t. It’s a secret.”
“A secret? Oh dear y/n secrets are hard to keep from me!” gushed Hisoka, clearly excited at the revelation of a secret. 
In truth, it was indeed difficult to keep secrets from him, intentional or not. He always had a way of knowing things and finding out secrets. You knew he was going to do everything in his power to figure out what this secret was, and you knew your plan was now that much harder. 
“Try not to get your nose too deep in my business, Hisoka” you muttered, moving towards him to check him for injuries, something that’d become customary in the relationship. Stopping at some blood on the back of his shirt you looked at him, ready to start patching him up.
“There’s blood on your shirt…” tugging at his shirt as you spoke, worry filling your voice.
“Not mine, dollface~” beaming at you in response.
Of course it wasn’t. 
Later the next day on your way home for work, you stopped at a fabric store and wandered the aisles, looking for the brightest red fabric available. You’d already taken the measurements from Hisoka’s clothes in the morning when you’d left for work, writing them down, careful to keep them hidden just in case he was lurking around. Picking out a red fabric, you moved and picked out a white one, and then white feather strip with bits of sparkly tinsel in them, planning on making a classic outfit. As a last minute decision, you picked up a red and white ribbon, remembering the banding around Hisoka’s waist. You had an only sewing machine at home, and you were prepared to sit down and watch a lot of tutorials so you could make your gift perfect.
Eventually arriving home, you were relieved to find Hisoka out of the house, knowing he wouldn’t be back until late. You got to work, following countless youtube instructions and tutorials, nicking your fingers ever so often with sewing in the minute details of your handiwork. Bits of feathers and tinsel would fall around you, as well as bits of red and white fabric in small strips, leaving the area around you look like an arts and crafts nightmare. You’d spent hours, but you finished, of course with some loose ends to cut and bits of this and that to sew in and overall perfect your work. It was one of Hisoka’s classic outfits but in a much more festive fashion. A red base fabric with white hearts and feather strip hem, tailored pants that tighten at the ankle to match, and a homemade Christmas hat to top it off. For under the shirt, his classic banding was red and white ribbons, adding a gentle sheen to the matte fabrics. Your hands were sore, and your thoughts sluggish. It was well into the night, and you had yet to clean up the mess you’d made. 
Although it took some time, you’d made the living room spotless, you showered, tucked Hisoka’s new outfit away in a box and tucked it under the bed and crawled under the covers and dozed off almost immediately, content with the gift you’d created. 
Rummaging around with the occasional thud was what woke you slightly, not enough to promptly spring into action, but enough for your drowsiness to be mixed with weariness. Propping up on an elbow, you squinted into the dark only to be met by the telltale silhouette of Hisoka approaching you and you let yourself flop back down on the bed as he crawled in next to you, pressing kisses into your shoulders, quietly talking your ear off, seemingly also drowsy.
Once again awoken by slight morning noises you groaned and rolled over, trying to see just what Hisoka was up to this time. Although your vision was clouded by sleep, your heart sank, rose and began beating out of your chest all at once upon realizing what you were looking at. Hisoka had the box you’d hidden, open on the bed staring in pure shock at the gift you’d prepared, an expression you rarely got to see.
“Hisoka...nooooo….” groaning as you sat up and crawled towards him, reaching for the box.
He moved his hands and the box away from your grasp, causing you to whimper.
“Y/n...do tell me, what’s this?” glancing at you as he whispered, clearly in awe.
“It was supposed...to be a surprise,” you started, your heart sinking again, feeling absolutely defeated, “it wasn’t finished yet…”
Hisoka seemed to connect the dots in that moment, remembering you in his clothes and talking of secrets and he gasped as he pulled it completely out of the box. You curled up as he inspected it, quietly giggling as he held the matching hat, trying it on, finding it to be a snug fit. He was clearly in a state of pure genuine joy, a most precious smile on his face as he played with the ball on the end of the hat and squeezing the fuzzy fabric. 
“It wasn’t good yet…” you whimpered, upset that he’d found out early, and he stopped, looking at you as he took note of your voice.
“Oh hush y/n..,” his voice full of veneration, “this is perfect, love..”
You glanced up at him, and you could tell he meant it, that look of astonishment, he was fully impressed, his attention was well caught.
“I still have to fix some of the stitching…”
“When? I’d love to wear this soon!” he exclaimed, turning the shirt this way and that.
“Well-” 
“OH y/n you shouldn’t have” Hisoka gasped, picking up the shiny ribbon bandage you pieced together, running it through his fingers, his eyes ablaze as he inspected it.
“Well I could fix it now, I suppose,” you sighed, getting up and getting the sewing kit you put together. Coming back, you sat down and essentially put the final touches on the outfit, cutting the frays and rough bits of extra fabric, and watched him try on the outfit, seeing Hisoka grinning from ear to ear, looking festive as ever. It was gaudy, in a sense, but perfect for him in his own way. You could only sigh happily, seeing him this way.
Hisoka materialized in front of you, catching you off guard and making you yelp as he planted kisses across your face, taking you out of your disgruntled mood, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’ll have to ask you for clothes more often, y/n,” he said in the middle of pressing kisses into your neck, “this fits wonderfully~”
You nodded as you let Hisoka drown you in early morning affection. In a cheesy sense, you could say Christmas came early for Hisoka, but one should leave cheesy endings for another day. 
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djxrxn · 4 years
Text
the mediator
part one
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reader x din djarin, paz vizsla, boba fett
part one, part two, part three, epilogue
warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of criminal activity, maybe a crude reference or two
wordcount: 4.4k
summary: A friend on Nevarro offers you a well-paying job, but you realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew when a Mandalorian you wronged is on planet - and in between you and your next paycheck.
a/n: okay Uh hi so welcome to the mediator lol. i’ve started school for the fall semester, everything for me is online, and i’m an art major, so Everything Is On Fire. in terms of the blog, i’m working on quite a few things so if there’s something you were looking forwards to seeing, or like a request you submitted, i have seen it don’t worry, it will be written i promise!! i can’t prioritize it all rn because classes are pretty demanding, but in the spare time i have, a Lot is in the works so !! exciting!! this fic has three parts and an epilogue, which i’m working on now!! also i absolutely have to thank @jangofctts who has let me bother her about this fic for a Hot minute she’s pretty much the reason it’s written she was very extremely helpful and was the best set of second eyes i could ask for thank u so much i love you!!!! okay enjoy!!
Maker, you hated Nevarro.
The terrain was rocky and… empty. There were no settlements or major cities - you were so used to the bustle of planets in the Inner Rim. Wealthy elites with deep pockets, neon and electricity carving a place into the long nights - it was more home than anything else had ever been. But here? It was a volcanic wasteland, the hot and sticky air wavering around you as you trudged through the gravel, making your way slowly to the only inhabited area on this shithole of a backwater planet. This was not home, it wasn’t even familiar territory.
Arrey was lucky you were friends with her.
You weren’t even sure what Ives had wanted - all you had received was a vague transmission about a job that was sure to pay well, as long as you stayed calm, conducted yourself in a civil and calm manner, that sort of thing.
“But,” the transmission had crackled, the soft baritone of Ives’ voice echoing around your cockpit, “You are the best with this sort of thing, Coins. I have no doubts.”
You scoffed when you heard the nickname. You thought you had finally left it behind, but here was Ives, bringing up that stupid nickname she gave you. She only used it when she had a job for you that would require some... finessing. It was concerning, but the last good job you had was a few bond skippers. You were low on fuel, and you were starting to dip into emergency resources. Ives’ high risk jobs usually set you up for a few months at a time, as opposed to the normal pocket change you got on a bounty.
Whatever she had in store, you could handle for a few credits.
The sun was setting behind you as you laid eyes on the poor excuse for civilization ahead of you, the vibrant oranges and pinks you were used to being represented by a growing dark haze. The small settlement - a town, a territory, a place to rest your feet for a bit - was just as dry as the rest of the planet. There were no buildings that were taller than three stories, and only a handful of ships were docked in the outskirts of town.
It would be easier to enter through a small side entrance. The front of the town would be crowded, even so late in the evening, and if you were on Mandalorian business, it was best to be subtle. You were annoyed at how familiar you were with the layout of the small town, annoyed that you knew the best way to approach the job already - even an Inner City scam job would have to be more interesting than whatever shit Ives was about to have you up to.
You slipped between the space between the two buildings, worming your way through the alley. Not much activity on the streets - you were sure that this whole planet closed up shop at soon as the sun threatened to set.
A noise of disgust left your throat as you laid eyes on the small market ahead of you. It was so… quaint. Only a few jawas and merchants were loitering around still. Even if you wanted a quick coin, you were sure that they would be much smarter than to fall for any of your schemes. However many credits it would take to get back to the Inner Rim would all have to come from Ives.
The fob gave a soft pip as you passed a stand selling spare droid bits. Metal screws and circuit boards all strewn about, a tan R2 unit beeping and chirping behind the table - the Chagrian repairing the droid gave you a glare when you passed him, but you hadn’t even noticed.
You were staring down at your wrist - a small bounty fob had been stitched to an old bracer. Wires poked out of the side, and you hadn’t been sure that it still worked. But it gave another small pip, and you couldn’t help but smile.
How many years ago had Ives Arrey given you that bracer, telling you to stick close to her on your first job together? She was much more prepared for a dangerous situation - she was quick on her trigger, ready to start firing at the drop of a pin. You’re sure that the only reason you made it out alive on that heist was how fast she was able to dispose of the other members of your team.
The fob’s beeps grew quicker and quicker as you walked through the settlement. Its little shrieks bounced off the walls and buildings. You turned a corner, following the beeps, and two gloved hands stopped you from crashing into the person in front of you. A gasp tore its way out from your throat - your hand flew to your blaster on your thigh, ripping it out of the holster and -
“Hey,” a soft baritone echoed through a voice vocoder. It was smooth and calming, and it carried a heaviness to it, like an old dark lullaby. “Relax, relax, it’s just me.”
You blinked. It was your friend but this… this was not the Ives you remembered. Her armor was dark, and had color to it - it was hard to see it in the night, but it looked like a bright green accent around the pitch black of her owl-like visor. The longer you looked at her, the more you saw the deep green that covered all of her beskar.
“You look… different,” you smiled.
“So do you,” she responded with a chuckle. “You changed your hair.”
After a shrug, you respond, “I was getting bored, but you look incredible - what, did they let you finally paint your armor?”
“Yeah, actually. I earned my signet,” she said. Ives gestured to her pauldron where a serpent was coiled up, baring its fangs.
“Wicked cool worm,” you teased, clicking off the fob around your wrist.
She punched your shoulder lightly. “Vexis,” Ives corrected. “It’s a Vexis, from Pasaana. Remember the job I took on Pasaana?”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” You rolled your eyes, but Ives huffed. Her visor tipped down in a Mandalorian glare.
“Hey,” she warned. Ives let out a little huff as you flashed a cheesy grin at her. “Maker help me, Coins ”
“Okay, okay.” You held your hands in surrender. “It’s a Vexus.”
“Remember that,” she said, turning on her heels and walking down the alleyway. It didn’t take much for you to keep up with her, her legs making smaller strides than yours did. Her cape fluttered around her ankles as she walked, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mandalorian she looked. She was…
She was intimidating.
“It’s a lot to take in, right?”
You nodded. She sighed and tugged on the edge of her glove. “Yeah, it’s still a lot for me too.”
“When did you get the upgrade?” The sun was completely gone, nothing but a small moon to show you how intricate the patterns on her armor was. Small leaves and vines had been engraved on her chest plate, a streak of yellow ran amongst every piece of beskar, and a small smear of red had been painted on under her signet.
“Actually, very recently,” she said. “A few days before, well, before you were needed.”
“Right, ” you hummed, “And that is...?”
Ives glanced over her shoulder “A very sensitive matter,” she whispered.
You huffed. Before you could even get out a comment, she continued, “That I will get to. I want to get a little bit closer.”
“Closer to?”
You were almost positive you could see her roll her eyes in the way her helmet tilted back and forth. “I’m going to need you to be a little more patient, please.”
“Ives, come on.” Your brow furrowed. You knew Ives to be careful, but this was being conservative with the details of your next paycheck. “And you’re being vague on purpose - just tell me-”
“I don’t want the wrong person overhearing,” she hissed.“ That’s all-”
“Well, well, well-” A Middle Rim accent sounded behind you, gentle and smooth. A long, armored arm crashed down onto your shoulders, and you were jerked back. “I thought I heard my favorite little criminal. I wasn’t aware that Coins stepped foot on planets that, what did you say again, ‘smelled like on fire ass’?”
You let out a small sigh of relief - you wrapped an arm around the willow torso you had been smushed up against. “Aw, Aeris, you know I couldn’t stay away from you for long.”
“Wow, I’m so honored you came all the way to see me.” You could hear the wicked smile coming through his vocal modulator. “But I know you don’t come to the Outer Rim unless you leave with heavier pockets.”
“You’re right.” It’s your turn to give a wicked smile. “I don’t.”
“So, who are you scamming this time?” He pinched your cheeks with his spare hand. “Stealing from children or widows?”
“Technically, Aeris she’s stealing from us,” Ives interjected. You gently punched his unarmored side, and he sagged on top of you with a dramatic groan.
“Mortally wounded,” he groaned. “And confused - how is she stealing from us?”
Ives paused, coming to a stand still - you almost tripped over Aeris’ feet as he mirrored her movements.
After a moment of silence, the only noise was the quiet night slowly coming to life around you, Aeris mumbled something in Mando’a under his breath after a moment, almost trying to fill the silence himself. When you looked up at his dark visor, he just shook his head.
You looked at Ives - her visor was pointed towards the ground, and she was picking at her glove again, tugging at the leather around her hands. You were familiar with these habits - you had seen Ives look at the ground and fidget with her hands hundreds of times before. She was carefully planning her next actions, quickly considering her options before she chose the best one.
She let out a low hum, and looked back at you.
“The leader of our Covert has given me authority to find a mediator to sort out a complication that arose on a job,” Ives said. “I’ve chosen you.”
You blinked. “Me?”
She gave a single nod.
“Sh-shouldn’t you find, I don’t know, maybe a Mandalorian mediator?”
“Our leader has explicitly forbidden any other Mandalorians interfering,” she explained calmly. “She wants unbiased and impartial help.”
“Even in negotiations?” You choked out.
“Oh, please,” Aeris chimed in, “Especially in negotiations. An outside perspective is supposed to be helpful.”
“Unbiased and extremely helpful, yes.” Ives added. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
“Okay, so I’m negotiating between a few Mando’s, what’s the catch?” You said, being tugged along by Aeris. Ives and Aeris both glanced at you for a moment before looking back to , neither bothering to voice what they were thinking until you continued.
“Why did you ask for me specifically?” You sighed. “And what’s the catch - if it were an easy negotiation, you could have contracted anybody in the Outer Rims.”
“Well, we do like a mediator with a sense of style,” Aeris said, nudging at Ives.
“Because I know you. I know what you’re capable of, and I know your specialties. You’re good with money, you’re good at finding a way to split it up-”
“Is this what this is about? You want me to split shares?” You groaned. “Maker, Ives, I could have done that anywhere, why did I have to come here-”
“It’s not as clean and simple as that,” she interjected. “There are three Mandalorians who need three even shares of a profit. The amount doesn’t split evenly, and all three are trying to argue that they deserve a larger portion of the credits that the others.”
You let out a short breath. “I still don’t see-”
“These Mandalorians are hostile, especially when there’s money involved.” She pointed at her signet, the Venus on her shoulder. “The Way mandates a base level of respect, but I’m afraid it’s not going to last for much longer - if someone doesn’t work this out, there’s a good chance it could get violent.”
“Let them fight it out, then. Whoever wins the fight, they get the credits - simple?” You suggested.
“Our leader has instructed us to further this out peacefully,” Ives shook her head, “As not to draw attention to us.”
“With those three di’kut, they’d start a whole galactic war over this shit, so it’d be best to keep things slightly subtle.”
“Don’t be an ass, Fenn,” Ives chided. She let out a sigh and didn’t speak for a moment, carefully chewing her next words slowly. “But Aeris has a point, they can be difficult-”
“See, there, I do have a point,” you didn’t have to see his face to know he had a smirk plastered across his face - you could practically see every emotion he felt through his arms, and his voice, and through the way he let little phrases of Mando’a out when he didn’t want anyone to know he was insulting them.
“Thank you, Aeris, it’s greatly appreciated.”
“These Mando’s really care this much about a job?” You mumbled. You apparently had a lot in common with them - you couldn’t say that you wouldn’t feel the same, but something wasn’t adding up.
Aeris shrugged. “Money goes a long way in the Outer Rim.”
“Maybe so, but how exactly did this job go down?” You asked. “I’m not really seeing an issue yet.
“I don’t know everything, but I know that Vizla and Djarin sort of bumped into each other on a quarry, which means they have to cute the profit in parts already,” he said, “But I have no idea where Fett came from, or how he got involved on the job-”
You let out a small choking noise, but Aeris continued on. “-So Djarin is pissed, naturally, because he’s out on cash, but if he thinks he can get away will all of the credits, he hasn’t met Vizsla.”
“Or Fett,” Ives added. “Which... Fett isn’t exactly known for letting money walk away.”
Aeris snorted. “Maker, Coins, you’re in for it.”
You felt like you’d been punched - the air in your lungs was stolen from you so quickly that it took you a moment to remember how to breathe in the first place. Your blood turned to ice. You felt fucking sick.
Fuck.
Fuck - fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I don't-”
Your mouth moved before you could fully think out the consequences of bowing out from the job. You would be out money, and time, and Maker, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere.
But if you took this job, you were pretty sure that the only thing you’d be walking away with was a hole in your chest from one of Fett’s rifles.
Or head. Or, fuck, probably both.
You cleared your throat. “I, uh, I don’t want this job.”
Ives snorted. “Alright, sure.”
You nudged Aeris off of you, and you planted your feet. You weren’t doing this, you couldn’t do this job.
“Ives, no. I- I can’t do this job- I won’t negotiate the shares, you’re on your own!”
Ives stopped. You hadn’t been aware that you were shouting, not until both Mandalorians turned to look at you. You swallowed - you could almost see the shock on their face through their helmets.
“We both know that you wasted too much money on fuel to turn around without something,” Ives said, her voice calm and steady. You wouldn’t expect Ives to actually shout back at you, but you couldn’t help the slightly guilt that tugged at you as she turned back around. “You need to work on your bluffing skills - quickly. They’re not gonna take any shit.”
“She’s right.” Aeris shook his head. “Since when are you bad at lying?”
They started walking again, boots stomping out a quick pattern, Aeris tugging you along by your arm, almost dragging you behind him, and you couldn’t fucking breath.
Boba Fett was cold and calculated. He was a fucking murderer - there was hardly job he didn’t follow through on, rarely a job he didn’t see finished. He took up a contract with the Empire, last official thing you heard, and then he disappeared for a few years.
Then, he reappeared, almost twice as ruthless.
You knew Fett - you only worked with him once, but you were close enough to hear the rumors that he had a personal vendetta against you. You knew that he was looking for blood, and you knew that if he was here on Nevarro, and if he knew you were here, you fucking knew you wouldn’t be leaving here alive.
“How often do you work with bounty hunters as notorious as our own Fett?” Aeris chimed, almost reading your mind.
“I- I think it's been a while,” you choked out. Your voice was trembling, they must have heard it. Aeris just cocked his head to the side, a sliver of moonlight catching on his black helmet. “But I guess it depends.”
“Depends?” He asked. “Oh, oh, of course. The money.”
His long arm curled around your neck, bringing your head closer to his torso. Aeris was limber and thin, but he was still capable of being dangerous. He was just as lethal as any other Mandalorian you were going to meet tonight.
“I almost forgot that you don’t do anything unless there’s a credit for you,” he said, his voice dripping with malice, the jab feeling like a threat. “Which, Arrey, why don’t you tell our friends here how much is at stake.”
Your stomach felt like it was twisting up into a knot. For the first time ever on a job, you didn’t even want to know about the credits - how much you were about to make, how much was being argued over it, none of it. You just wanted out.
Not that Ives would let you out, you supposed, but the less you knew-
“The bounty was for fifty-two million credits,” Ives answered. “Djarin said it was a high profile bond skipper - they had racked up thousands of millions of dollars-”
You didn’t hear the rest of Ive’s explanation. The only thing you could focus on was the rush of your blood. Your heartbeat was so loud in your own ears. The whole world faded away, slinking around you in a confusing sludge. The hot air was stifling you. It was too heavy, too thick. Your lungs couldn’t work with it, couldn’t filter through it - your chest felt light it might explode.
Fifty-two million credits.
You wanted to sleep. You wanted to close your eyes and let everything wash away. You could wake up on your ship, somewhere nice, somewhere you could get a nice breakfast. Maybe you could even find a good cup of caf. You could have a great day, and this whole shitty situation would be a distant nightmare.
Maker, you would kill to just wake up from all of this. If you fucked this up, forget Fett, you would have three Mandalorians on your ass. And if they were anything like Fett…
This was so far out of your realm of expertise. Even the job you worked with Fett was only for a couple of hundred-thousand credits. The most money you had ever worked for - acquired, earned, stolen, it didn’t matter. It was for one million credits. It was the job you met Ives on, the one where she saved your life, taught you how to rob a bank.
It was a pretty large heists for you - all you had known was petty theft and maybe a break-in, and even that was extremely rare. An old contact reached out to you, said he was trying to build up a team that wouldn’t mind cutting a few corners, and you certainly could look the other way for a few credits.
And so could Ives. You met her on Daxan IV - all grey beskar with chunks and bits missing. Old scraps of other armor had been fused into her chest plate, and her cuisses over her thigh was scraped and dented. The only pop of color was a dark green cowl that hung over her helmet, and even that was dark.
You remember making a snide comment about her bowcaster, and you remember her quietly throwing back something just as crude about how many layers you were wearing. At the end of the day, when the guns were pointed at you, that bowcaster had saved your life - Ives had saved you.
She was calm and collected in a firefight, but couldn’t handle the finessing and haggling that came with bounty hunting. You were a smooth talker, you were proud of that, but staying cool in a firefight…
You just had different priorities. Ives and you became a team, reaching out when the other needed a right hand woman for a job.
And you were grateful - Ives’ jobs were always well paying, but they normally came with a catch. One job she brought you along for was connected to the Rebellion, so the Imps were on your ass for months, one job was screwing up the numbers on a Hutt accountant’s book, one job was literally just fucking arson. There was always something - you didn’t think that there’d be something on this job, that maybe this would be the most straightforward job Ives gave you.
Well, here was the fucking catch - here were multiple fucking catches.
“Any other way you can raise the stakes, Arrey?” You snarked. Your voice sounded strained and high pitched. Maker, you wanted to at least appear like you knew what you were doing.
Ives cocked her head to the side. “Not that I can think of… Unless you have something to add, Aeris?”
You felt as he shrugged. “That’s more than I even knew.” He laughed - something short and dry, more out of cruelty than of pure humor. “Can’t wait to hear the deats when I get back.”
“Back?” You asked a little too quickly. You hadn’t seen either of them in quite a long while, and it would make you feel a lot better if they were right behind you for this entire mediation.
You could feel the little breath he let out, the small huff that made his chest expand. “Job off planet, Coins.”
You poked his unarmored sides, and leaned your head against him. “Try not to be a dumbass and get yourself killed, Fenn.”
He poked your cheek. “Only for you, chakaar.”
Ives gave him a nod as he removed his arm from you - his hand grazed your shoulder for a moment before he gave a nod back. Aeris tugged his hood over himself, the red streaks of his helmet disappearing beneath the dark wool. He turned the corner, and-
He was gone, and it was just Ives and you.
You waited a minute. Two, three, the minutes slugged along as you just waited.
“What did you do to Fett?” Ives asked quietly.
You blinked. “I- I’m sorry?”
“Aeris was too busy looking down your shirt to notice - or, maybe he didn’t even care, but you look…”
She studied you for a second, then shrugged. “You look scared as shit.”
Boba Fett had reached out to you - he needed an expendable worm who could steal, who could handle cutting corners, yadda yadda, what else was new? It was the same job description and employer type. The only thing that was different was that your boss was covered in beskar.
Job went south almost immediately. Another one of Boba’s associates sold him out to a New Republic squadron - Boba was busy handling that, but you had found the credits stashed in the lower haul, and you dipped.
Only one escape pod on the small vessel - you did feel a little bad, but it was Fett. He would probably be fine.
It was only a few days before you heard that he was looking for you.
He apparently wasn’t that serious about finding you. If he really was serious about it, you would’ve been hunted down and killed already. You head on a stake, your body on a pyre, that sort of thing. Maybe you weren’t Fett’s top priority, but you weren’t going to give him easy access to…
Well, you.
“We, uh, met on a job - like you and me, but, um,” you paused. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell her that you ratted out a member of her Covert - the last thing you needed, or wanted, was to cause an issue with Ives. “It didn’t go very well…”
Ives let out a low hum. “I assume you’re the reason for that?”
“Wh- me?” You let out a dramatic gasp. “I’m hurt - for your information, I am not the reason the job didn’t go as planned.”
“Oh? So what’s the reason for you being terrified at the mention of Boba?” Ives put a hand on her hip. When all you did was shrug, she clicked her tongue.
“Well, hopefully he’s forgotten what you’ve done to him by now.”
“Does he- is Fett the forgetful type?” You asked, a glimmer of hope appearing in this ridiculously shitty situation.
She shrugged and gestured to the door to your side - it was rather simple and weathered. “For your sake, I hope so.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Ives, I don’t know-”
“Coins, listen-”
She took a step towards you and gripped your shoulder. She rested her head against yours, and as you peered into the inky visor, you almost felt calm. Like maybe, you weren’t quite alone.
“Hit the fob if there’s trouble, just like always,” she said softly. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need anything, but Djarin and Vizsla should be a buffer between Fett and, uh… you.”
You placed your hand on top of hers and gave a small smile. “Thank you, Ives.”
“You’ll be fine,” she nodded. “Now, go in there, and get your paycheck.”
You nodded and you stepped towards the door. Ives tapped in a short string of numbers on the keypad. The door slid up, the cool air from inside seeping out to meet you - it was tempting, but you couldn’t forget what else was in the room besides air conditioning.
You peered into the room - and inside were three Mandalorians, whose helmets all turned to look at you.
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carminite-wyrm · 3 years
Text
A Sunless Skies!AU fic, Part 1
So I've...ended up writing a fic for my Sunless Skies x Hermitcraft AU. At first it was meant to be just like, a ficlet, but it's kind of spiralled a bit into a multi-parter fic. So here's the Part 1!
Again, credit to @redstone-sun for the FL!AU that kickstarted my inspiration for the Sunless Skies!AU!
Ren and Doc, brave Co-Captains of the Octagon Van, seekers of secrets and conspiracies, have for once, decided to take a brief vacation from their adventures and accidental incidents in the High Wilderness. Their vacation of choice? A few days at the most desirable holiday destination in all of Albion: Worlebury-juxta-Mare.
An idyllic holiday spot, where nothing is amiss, and nothing can go wrong. Right?
(Spoilers for Sunless Skies lore!)
The admission passes for a weekend stay at Worlebury-juxta-Mare had been a gift from the Boatem Crew, after a series of incidents that were probably best to never be spoken about again, on both groups’ parts.
Specifically, Scar had handed over the admission permits with a wink, tipping them out of his top hat with a dramatic gesture, along with a pamphlet.
“Should be fine for a weekend stay, gentlemen! I’ve heard that they even sell genuine rubbery lumps there, tastes just like it does back in London, apparently. Haven’t tried any myself, admittedly.”
And with that parting note, the Boatem Crew had set off from their rendezvous, leaving behind Ren, Doc, and their horde of semi-displaced goats.
A few weeks later, they had finished finding decent homes for the goats across the entirety of the High Wilderness, with a few exceptions who were still very much at home onboard their locomotive. And finally, the two could head off to their first vacation in several months.
“So, Worlebury-juxta-Mare.” Ren commented, staring at the cursive writing on one of the passes, and checking the pamphlet’s travel details with the map in front of him. “Have you gone there before?”
“Nope.” Doc replied, most of his focus upon repairing his mechanical arm after their last goat drop-off resulted in a very close call with some of Albion’s native wildlife. “It’s…off to the east, isn’t it?”
“Past London, yeah. Not close to the Avid Horizon, though.”
“That’s good to hear, I don’t think they’ll be happy to see us again so soon after that one, uh, incident.”
“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again.”
“True.”
The journey to the holiday destination took a little under a fortnight, with the last of the goats willing to leave rehomed on the way. The one remaining goat ended up being named Vigenere, and appointed as the Octagon Van’s noble mascot, screams and all.
The island that Worlebury was located upon was shrouded in mist, which slowly parted to reveal a quaint-looking town, with multiple other locomotives docked at the port, and the faint outline of amusement park rides in the distance.
“Well, it certainly looks like what the pamphlet described.” Doc said, as their locomotive was guided to a docking station.
As they stepped onto the wooden planks of the docks, they followed the signs leading them to a sizeable queue in front of the main gates of the station. A few signs, all in the same fanciful cursive as the passes that they carried, directed visitors either to the queue for those with passes, those bringing supplies, those waiting for regular entry, and workers. Right by where all the queues began, they could see a bright turquoise banner for a Swaggon Inc. stall, set up in what looked like a cart, and selling all manner of knickknacks to the passing visitors.
“Suppose that’s us.” Doc pointed at one of the shorter queues, patrons in fine clothing and clearly of noble or wealthy backgrounds murmuring among themselves as their passes were checked and stamped.
As they waited, an official suddenly wandered by, stared at them for half a second, before making a ‘come over here’ gesture. Curious, the two headed over, and the man held out a hand, the badge of a government representative clearly affixed to his lapel.
“First time in Worlebury-juxta-Mare? Excellent, excellent, right this way then.” He said, a businessman’s grin fixed upon his face as he shook their hands in greeting. “I’m a representative of the Bureau of Entertainments, and I’d like to welcome you to our fine port. Now, I know queue jumping is a little uncouth, but well, for fine gentlemen as yourself, I am certain you would rather be enjoying the sights rather than mingling with the proletariat for hours.”
Ren and Doc shared an awkward glance, silently comparing their practical, but significantly less extravagant, attire with the shining emerald suit the official was wearing. Over by the admission pass queue, one of the women’s hats looked more expensive than all of Doc’s prosthetics combined, and Ren knew for a fact that Doc had not spared any expense with his equipment or materials for that.
“Uh, thanks? We do have passes though.” Ren held up the aforementioned two items.
“Consider this a courtesy for your first time visiting. We are, of course, absolutely certain that you will be returning guests, after all.” The man smiled at them, before showing them to a door that had a brass plaque with the words ‘Fitting Room’ etched onto it. “Now, there is a dress code, so please do step inside and let the good Couturier find you a suitable outfit.”
With only the slightest amount of hesitancy, the duo stepped into what turned out to be a sizeable room that had all manner of clothing hung up in the wardrobes and racks that lined its walls. The Couturier took one look at Doc’s labcoat (missing a sleeve after it was ripped too many times by him using his mechanical arm to physically fend off the creatures that attacked their locomotive), and Ren’s combination of overalls, tinted goggles, and a ragged red shirt, seemed to grind his teeth in silent outrage, and stalked over to one of the racks.
“Pick an article of clothing you imagine suits you, and I’ll…figure something out to match it.” He said shortly.
Doc immediately gravitated towards the rack of coats, finding a white coat that was almost like his labcoat except with all its sleeves, and also made in the fashion style of decades past. The Couturier seemed to calm down upon seeing his choice, and immediately busied himself with providing the rest of a three-piece suit to accompany it. Off to the side, Doc saw Ren contemplate a lavish velvet-lined hat, before putting it down and flicking through a selection of dress shirts and blouses.
Fifteen minutes later, they had finally shoved Ren into a tailcoat set, much to the relief of the Couturier, who had seemed close to sobbing after the twelfth time that Ren had thought the chosen attire did not suit him.
“I still think the fur coat would have looked better.”
“It looked like someone had stitched together a bunch of rats, Ren.”
Ren sighed dramatically, before immediately lighting up once again as they finally made it into the port town proper, and spotted the wide variety of shops and amusement park games that lined the streets.
“Oh, there’s a stall for the rubbery lumps that Scar mentioned!”
And with that, the hours whirled past as they visited shop after shop, Ren gleefully taste-testing several shops’ worth of tea variety before ordering a few caddies for them to take with them. At one point, Doc swore there was something more wormy than earthy in a particular cup of tea, staring suspiciously into his cup before setting it down. There was something…just a bit odd, besides the fact that the mists really were vaguely corrosive and causing their clothes from the fitting room to slowly disintegrate and unravel as time went by.
But, on the other hand, Ren did seem to be having a good time, and the shop with a wide array of elaborate tea sets, and other porcelain objects, was quite enjoyable to wander through, even if the screams from the nearby donkey ride was a little disconcerting.
Wait. Screams?
Doc whirled around, to where the donkey ride was. No, he must have been mistaken, it seemed like nothing was amiss, though his mechanical eye did focus upon an odd reddish stain that seemed to shimmer in and out of view. He blinked, and the stain was gone.
Huh, his eye probably needed a little bit of a tune up once they were back on board the Van.
“Hey, Doc, want to get some candyfloss?”
He turned away from the donkeys, to where Ren was tugging him over to a stand with multicoloured sticks of candyfloss. Still perturbed, he absently took a bite out of the pale green spun sugar that Ren had purchased for him.
It was sweet. A bit almond-bitter, if he thought about it for long enough.
Their hotel resort room was actually quite comfortable, considering they were essentially visiting for free. The Department official had said that their stay would be the equivalent of their usual pass, just without needing the actual pass, for some reason.
Ren tugged awkwardly at his clothes as they settled for the day, the fabric already looking a bit threadbare. Doc simply huffed, sitting down in one of the armchairs with relief after a whole day of walking and running around.
“They sure weren’t joking about the mists.” Ren joked, looking out at their beachfront view. “We’ll probably be lucky to get to midday tomorrow before we have to leave because our fitting room outfits are in tatters.”
“I thought we already saw everything today?” Doc eyed the bags of souvenirs that they had acquired, and the stack of cargo receipts he was dreading having to file away at a later time.
“There’s an art exhibition tomorrow, and we still haven’t seen the beach.”
“Hm, alright.” Doc sighed, sinking further into his armchair. “I’m going to be honest; I’m looking forward to being back on our locomotive, my eye’s been seeing some strange things and I think it might need a tune-up.”
“Probably isn’t anything serious, Doc!”
“I hope so.”
Roughly eight hours later, Doc was deeply regretting everything as the sky above the beach shimmered and doubled, the sight of an idyllic foggy day overlapping with scintillating tendrils of unsettling light. Off to the side, Ren was attempting to skip stones along the sea of mist, which quite frankly wasn’t working on account of the ‘water’ not being water in the first place.
“Ren, I think we should leave.” He said, catching the other man’s attention. “I’m…The place is starting to look a bit weird.”
“Ah, is the eye giving you that much trouble?”
“No, it’s-“
“Eh, we can always come back later, we still have the tickets Scar gave us.” Ren shrugged, and the two of them slowly made their way back to the dock. As they stepped back out onto the wooden platforms that formed the dockside, Doc blinked as the double vision he had been experiencing slowly cleared up, fading away almost like mist on a windy day.
An hour or two later, and Doc held up his mechanical eye to the lightbulb above his workstation, frowning in consternation. There didn’t seem to be any faults with the eye, and he even swapped it back out again with the spare, to compare the two. For all intents and purposes, his eye was perfectly functional, down to the polished glass lenses within it.
“Well, Doc? How’s the eye?” Ren poked his head into the tiny room that housed most of Doc’s tools and other equipment.
“It…seems to be working as normal. I don’t get it, I swear it was glitching out whilst we were in town, but there’s nothing wrong with it! I even pulled it apart to check if some of the internal pieces had corroded or fallen out of place, but it was all fine!”
“Huh, weird.” Ren shrugged. “So, you up for heading back in to the town, or do you want us to go? We did manage to get quite a bit of souvenirs, anyways.”
“Honestly? I think we ought to go, there’s just something not right about this place.”
“Hm, maybe something about the mists is making your hardware go a bit haywire? They do have a corrosive effect, even if its mild enough to only affect fabrics.” Ren nodded. “Anyways, I’ll go tell the crew to get ready to set off.”
“Uh. Captains?”
The two turned, to see one of the crewmembers looking at them with barely hidden panic on their face.
“Yeah?” Ren raised an eyebrow.
“Vigenere. The mascot. We can’t find them anywhere!”
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julek · 3 years
Note
9 & 45 Geskel + Jaskier in some unnamed town
#9. “you really thought i was dead?” + #45. foreheads pressed together, breaths intertwining, slow, content affection.
Winter had been unforgiving.
The cold had come much earlier, the biting winds and violent blizzards making their way across the North with insistence, leaving little hope for the travelers that dared to venture the snow-covered roads. Geralt had endured his way up the path to Kaer Morhen, keeping his grip on Roach’s reins steady as he allowed his mind to wander, thinking of the months to come, finally reunited with his brothers.
Geralt knew the way up the mountain like the back of his hand. The trees and shrubs that coated the path —pines, azaleas, firs— and the small, innocuous creatures that inhabited the crevices and nooks of the forest. He’d grown used to the sight of the covered peaks of the Blue Mountains looming on the horizon, moonlight reflecting on the frozen surface of the Gwenllech. 
He’d been the first to show up at the keep. Days passed, and soon enough, Lambert rode in, his stallion stomping his feet on the cobblestone. Coën followed, his cart loaded with provisions, and more importantly, Redanian wine. 
The snow kept falling, unrelenting, and in the third week, Vesemir announced the pass had been covered, meaning no one would be able to go out or come in. Fear clawed at Geralt’s throat, much more palpable now with clear confirmation — Eskel wasn’t coming home.
The months passed idly by, and Geralt kept busy — repairing the roofs, going out for hunts, sparring with Lambert and Coën under Vesemir’s attentive gaze. He could sense the rest of the witchers were as uneasy as he felt —could see the look in their eyes when they sat at the table for supper, the empty chair burning at the sight— though no one uttered a word. There had been no letter, no medallion to bury, but they all knew. They were very well acquainted with the risks of the Path, how precarious a witcher’s life became once they set foot in the Continent, the perpetual recipient of human hatred. Geralt knew.
He thought they’d have more time. 
As the days grew longer and flowers started blooming, Geralt left the keep. He hugged his brothers goodbye, maybe held them a little tighter than before, nodded to Vesemir, and led Roach out of the grounds. He moved down south, deep into Kaedwen, walking the path he knew so well. It was as inviting as it’d been every spring, greeting him with bright colors and days full of sunshine, but Geralt felt different. His world had shifted, tilted off its axis, his sight askew and suddenly colorblind, his intent wavering.
Geralt ran into Jaskier in Murivel, summer looming close. The bard had had a terrible winter in Oxenfurt, and for a second, Geralt was glad he hadn’t been the only one. They moved along the Pontar, Geralt chasing after monsters and Jaskier chasing after him, falling into their usual rhythm. He couldn’t bring himself to talk about Eskel, even though he knew he could trust Jaskier — hurt wrapped itself around his stomach and smothered his lungs, leaving him gasping for air. 
Some days, the winds would carry the faintest scent of magic mixed with smoke, and Geralt would stop dead in his tracks, waiting to see Eskel emerge from the forest, his scar twisted by a grin and his armor intact. Safe. He’d roam the woods at night while Jaskier slept soundly on his bedroll, looking. What for, he wasn’t sure — a body? A sign?
“How do witchers deal with death?” Jaskier asked him one afternoon, quill in hand. “I promise it’s not for a song.”
Geralt shrugged, his amber eyes somber even in the sunlight. He didn’t answer for a while, carefully thinking about it. 
“We’re not… we’re not usually together, when one of our kind dies.” He frowned. “We’re lucky if we even get confirmation that they’re dead.”
“I’m sorry,” Jaskier said, sincerity burning through cornflower blue. “You don’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”
Geralt shook his head, pressing a hand to his forehead, feeling the knot on his throat tighten. 
“Our medallions are buried when we pass,” he said after a while. “It’s the only time we go home, I guess.”
It was a half-truth at best, but it was all Geralt had to offer. Jaskier nodded almost knowingly and turned back to his lute, but Geralt could smell the faint scent of sadness lingering on the bard. He said nothing, half-fearing he’d try to comfort him with empty words only meant for himself. How could he reassure Jaskier that it was just the way things were for witchers, that it was rooted in years of discipline, and endurance, and tradition, when he couldn’t believe it himself? 
They moved on as they were wont to do, passing through Ellander and Hagge, avoiding the fork in the road that led to Vengerberg. Jaskier filled the days with his chatter and music, still singing of Geralt’s feats and heroics at any tavern he could find, Geralt’s eyes trailing after red gambesons, disappointed when their owners turned around, no carved medallion on their chests.
“Thank you, my good men and women, for listening to my tales!” he heard Jaskier exclaim from his corner in the tavern, “Please, direct your applause to my muse, Geralt of Rivia!”
The patrons turned around, their eyes bright and their cheeks flushed with ale, and cheered at him with genuine enthusiasm. He raised his tankard at them, and went back to keeping out of sight—brooding, as Jaskier liked to call it—while the bard finished gathering his things.
Geralt swirled his watered-down ale in his cup, the rain pattering hard against the window. He remained seated, watching Jaskier flirt his way through the tavern, an oddly comforting sight. He enjoyed nights like these, easy and undemanding, where he could just sit with his thoughts, a pastime severely frowned upon by Vesemir. 
He let his mind wander, inevitably reaching his fondest memories, the few he prized the most. He and Eskel sharing a bowl of stew, sitting on the furs he’d pulled down from his bed, in front of the hearth. Eskel on hen duty, stubbornly letting the coop door ajar, then chasing all of the chicken across the courtyard as Geralt laughed and refused to help. Long, cold winter nights, legs intertwined under the blankets, Geralt’s head resting on Eskel’s collarbone. Whispered secrets, stolen kisses, yearning glances.
He thought they’d have more time. 
“Does my singing bore you that much, witcher?” 
Geralt opened his eyes, Jaskier coming into view. His lips were curled into an easy grin, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. He was holding two tankards of ale, and passed one to Geralt.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked quietly, meeting Geralt’s eyes. 
Geralt wrinkled his nose slightly, looking away. The creases of his forehead were deeply set into his skin, the lines under his eyes more prominent now. Feeling Jaskier’s eyes on him, Geralt hummed a reply. 
“I’m exhausted,” Jaskier said after a moment, leaning his arms on the table. “Think I’m gonna call it an early night. Feel free to stay down, though.”
Geralt nodded, sipping at his ale. He’d probably have some more to drink, before falling into another night of restless sleep.
His eyes followed Jaskier’s figure climbing up the stairs, a force of habit. Slumping in his seat, his back to the door, Geralt watched the tavern. The barmaids moved diligently with trays, mugs, and plates, making their way across the floors. He could hear the faint sounds of a heated argument between the cook and the barkeep, could see a young couple sharing a meal in the dim candlelight, their eyes glowing with infatuation and the promise of a life together, waiting ahead of them.
Geralt rolled his eyes at the sight, his ale suddenly tasting bitter. He heard the tavern door swing open, the wind howling outside, and a strong scent filled his senses. Smoke and spices —rosemary and basil— and the kind of oil Geralt used on his blades. There was an underlying scent Geralt couldn’t quite pick up on, something that barely scratched the surface.
Turning around, Geralt was met with broad shoulders sporting a deep oxblood gambeson with crisscrossed yellow stitchings, spikes covering the pads of his armor. Dark hair fell in curtains on his face, the scar on his side a dark maroon in the firelight as he gesticulated wildly, bargaining with the innkeeper. 
Geralt remained still, his hand frozen on his tankard, as he closed his eyes, his mouth twisted into a pained grimace. He felt the man move closer, his scent becoming stronger, making the tip of his tongue tingle. Geralt placed his hand on his medallion and felt it vibrate faintly. 
Magic.
“The Great White Wolf, napping in some shitty tavern in the middle of nowhere,” a deep, quiet voice rumbled. “Whatever would Vesemir say.”
Geralt opened his eyes, expecting to stare into emptiness, like many countless times he’d drunk himself into oblivion. Instead, he found a curious amber gaze looking down at him, brows arched. 
“Eskel,” he breathed.
Before he knew it, Geralt was standing tall, arms wrapped around Eskel. He found the nook of his neck, just below his jaw, and breathed in deeply, his scent impregnating Geralt’s senses. His body felt warm, enveloped in the first rays of sunlight after a cold, dark winter. He felt safe.
After a moment, he pulled back, pressing his forehead against Eskel’s, his hands on each side of his face. They breathed in slowly, looking into each other’s eyes, and a choked noise escaped Geralt’s throat, betraying his composure. He buried his face in Eskel’s shoulder, his breath unsteady and his eyes stinging. He couldn’t bear to look at his face, not after months of convincing himself that death had finally ripped him away from his heart.
“You really thought I was dead?” he heard Eskel murmur, his lips pressed against his temple. 
Geralt said nothing, doubting his voice wouldn’t falter. Instead, he held Eskel tighter, pressed all his love into his hands, hoping he’d feel it, too. He’d try using his words later, when they were lying down, knees pressed together, Geralt murmuring against Eskel’s collarbone, the firelight illuminating his medallion, unburied. 
They had all the time in the world.
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steve0discusses · 3 years
Text
S5 Ep 14: So If You Put a Fraction Into a Duel Disk, the Card Explodes
We left on quite the cliffhanger last episode, so I’ll fill you in:
I did not get the haircut.
Like I seriously considered getting a Zigfried for a cool 3 or 4 minutes there, but then I decided to wait a couple of days and I basically forgot.
But, back to the arc finale, Seto has decided to walk, not run, to the Kaiba lab in order to fix the virus rapidly eating his entire company.
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I just want to point out that Zigfried went through a LOT of work to get Seto Kiaba to go “uggggh” turn around, and pretend to calmly walk away. I’m used to Seto losing his nut kind of a lot and blowing things up but this season he’s like “be chill be chill be chill” so that the entire world doesn’t think he’s a spaz on TV.
And little aside about Seto’s design choices here, I fell down a hole of interior design videos, and can I just say: apparently these wood frame things on the wall are back in style? Good on you, 2002(3?) Seto Kaiba. Don’t think that current designers are painting them purple but...we’re halfway there to Yugioh fashion.
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Meanwhile, Pharaoh decides to remind everyone that these stakes are hella low. The worst that happens is that Zigfried deletes the plane that Yugi needs to fly home...which would be an impressive virus.
Like it’s hard to tell if Yami even has a solid concept of “capitalism” and whether or not he cares about or understands the makeup of Seto’s company (which up till now has operated like a small country and not a business...which is a little more Pharaoh’s understanding. Either way...hard to tell if Yami would shed two tears for the loss of Kaiba corp.)
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And, despite what I say in the caps, I feel like Leon and Zigfried are the first villains we’ve ever had that Yugi and Pharaoh didn’t unintentionally disclose that they are 2 people to. Zigfried and Leon are just...completely oblivious to how effed up Yugi’s bean is. They think that’s just a normal kid and lol no dudes...y’all got distracted by Seto Kabia but you have a literal Egyptian God just hovering around in the background and dating 3 people by accident.
Like when the show shelves the main storyline, it is very funny how it’s all “And we’re gonna put the Pharaoh crisis on hold--just put a pin in it. No one will notice this child is two nervous wrecks stitched together” and then Yugi and Yami just kinda hold it in and watch all patiently until it’s their turn to get off the bench.
(read more under the cut)
In the giant computer tower, Seto Kaiba shouts out a string of orders and numbers, admired the many sonar detector looking windows open on every monitor, and then sat down at his desk to like...check the firewall, I guess?
The virus is past the firewall. It’s um...it’s inside the firewall, pretty sure that was the point, but youknow, it’s a kid’s show so they’re just throwing out computer stuff that has no meaning to the writers of this show.
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Mokuba thinks fondly of how Seto Kaiba has never screwed him over (which I mean...maybe not on purpose, ((except for that one time he did screw him over on purpose to get Gozaburo Kaiba to accidentally give Seto Kaiba the company, but you could say that was a grander scheme that he knew Mokuba would see through, which...)) but Seto certainly has screwed Mokuba over accidentally. At least once.)
And meanwhile, Yami fixes everything through card shenanigans.
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So here’s the shenanigan this episode: I don’t go over cards here but this one requires a limited amount of explanation.
So every round the golden castle deletes half of Yugi’s cards. So he was like...I’ll just draw down to one card. They can’t delete half a card...so that means the card must delete one of the two cards on the field which means it must delete itself.
...which is like the closest Yugioh will probably ever get to abusing a glitch to do a speedrunning tactic like GDQ.
Anyway, like I stated in the title: there are no fractions allowed in Yugioh. If you do that to your priceless one-of-a-kind card you got from winning one of Pegasus’ murder tournies, it will irreparably bust the card.
I’m sure at least one of you will correct me with the proper way to insert a fraction into your duel disk. Cuz like...as I say multiple times so we never forget, I barely pay attention to this card game and I’m just flying by the seat of my pants.
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I want to say Seto and Mokuba were in the hacker chairs for like...3 minutes maybe before they realized “oh...Yugi fixed it...” and walked the half a mile back to the duel arena.
and also, as I’m looking at Seto’s glasses here, I just realized...all of Kaiba’s team wears sunglasses all the time. Inside, outside, night, or day...
They haven’t outright said this...but what if those aren’t sunglasses?
Is Roland and that other Roland wearing fancy cyber glasses? They are, right? Because they wear them indoors?
Damn, they can’t take a piss without being on call with Kaiba Corp, can they?
Now the problem is...Yugi played all of his cards (he has two in front of him face down, but none in his deck) and after milling himself, this means he’s now basically a sitting duck for Leon to take the title of “King of Games.”
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Leon insists that he defend whatever scraps are left of his card honor and not duel a person who is carrying no cards and Yugi was like “COME AT ME BRO THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I KNOW I’M ALIVE.”
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He didn’t even have to do a horror on Leon, he just...played cards good? I skipped it, I’ll be honest, but overall Leon’s card honor was...saved? Maybe? I mean he also go destroyed when his competitor had not a single card in his duel disk so...
...Leon will have to work on his card honor off screen because he’s pretty well humiliated at this point.
But stumbling onto the playing field like he’s half dazed/daydrunk, Zigfried is like “You forgot I already won, bastards!”
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Which is when we find out that Zigfried’s “delete all” virus failed to press “enter” and deleted basically nothing. Just like when my Mom attempts to send something in Gmail but doesn’t press “Send” and tells me that Google is down and broken.
Sorry my bro has informed me that he ALSO has had to help my Mother locate the “Send” button and I just...I know she absolutely did that but I’m in denial that this Riddle of the Sphinx has happened to her multiple times.
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Honestly, the pep talk we get from Leon at the end to cheer up his bro was a whole lot of “we will pick ourselves up and we’ll do better next time. Together.” and sure you can translate that as “we’ll be honest next time” or you can translate that as “next time we will be not nearly as obvious about inserting a virus into their computer until it is done doing the job, bro.”
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Just like Dartz, we didn’t really get a whole lot of retribution or closure when it comes to Zigfried. But, unlike Dartz, Zigfried didn’t do too much murder, so I guess this is fine. He tried to cheat in a card game...
...and I guess tried to delete Kaiba Corp but youknow...
...people let him have that. The police saw the ticket of “this man tried to delete Kaiba Corp” and they just...didn’t arrest him. The judge saw that ticket and didn’t put out a warrant. They just let Zigfried have this, almost like “better luck next time, ya?”
And then Roland clocked out for the day and went home, thus ending this arc.
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Look at all these characters, most of which we never saw duel even one card.
We also got one shot of Mai for some reason although she was not in this arc.
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AAAHHHH. Every time I’m like “the show is done screwing geography” we get another freakin geography spook!
But we went back to California in order to get a scene of these guys in an airport to get a flight to Japan...
which means Rex and Weevil just...were they shipped home by the Kaibas? Because way to ditch getting arrested by the American Government, hot damn. They are...literally terrorists who destroyed a Caltrain in a plot to kill everyone in the world so like...really surprised Rex and Weevil are in public...but maybe all the FBI were dead at the time so they just didn’t know?
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Meanwhile, Duke has to go back to Death Valley and call a tow truck for his car, RIP.
I sure hope he got PTO during this stunt and isn’t going home to a pink slip.
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I’m not sure of Dukes life or anything going on with Duke. I’m sure the thing about Serenity is him joking because we have all forgotten about that girl by this point...but also...is Duke...still living in the Tenderloin? The crime rate is very, very high and the ground isn’t solid, so it will liquefy if there’s an Earthquake, but it is one of the few places in the Bay Area that doesn’t light on fire every year. He has that going for him.
I just really hope Duke moves out of the Tenderloin one of these days, he needs a better life.
Meanwhile, Rebecca does one last crime.
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This is like a post-epidemic reaction to a hug, but in 2002(3?).
I don’t think I’ll miss Rebecca too much. Wanted to like her more, but she was under-utilized, like most of the characters on Yugioh. Not even just talking girl characters here--most characters on Yugioh are super under-utilized, just Tristan Wallflowers doing nothing, but also being selectively OP as hell about very specific things they never, ever need to do.
Speaking of the devil:
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Yugi...just saved his entire company...
But Mokuba is just has to make sure to make it seem like they owed Mokuba and not the other way around. Just in case.
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So off they go on this massive plane. It’s probably more to do with the length of the trip as to why the plane is so big but also...
This plane is overcompensating.
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But before we analyze that, lets close the book on Seto Kaiba’s very short therapy arc. Overall, it was a nice distraction, but I can see why people call it a filler arc, as it really doesn’t affect...anything going on in the major plotlines, which makes me think it could have been a movie or a game or something. But overall, it’s not bad, it’s just not what you’d expect if you were a Western audience.
Like I’m preaching to the choir, but typically, Western stories are entirely plot focused, and so our arcs always give or take away from that plot. But in a Eastern story arc, it may instead be character focused, where the climax is a character evolving or coming to some sort of cathartic realization, which this arc was, in a big way. We still had some plot, because this is a Shonen, but overall it was about characters, and specifically whether or not Leon and his bro would reconcile or change--which they did.
We did get to see a little more growth on Seto in that he...didn’t go bonkers and hallucinate during a card game. It’s been a while since we’ve had him not do that. Seto was very chill this arc, which makes sense, it was a very chill slice of life arc for everyone involved.
So, next we move on to the next one, which bro has informed me...is
still not Bakura.
According to Bro, the next arc didn’t even air in the Japanese version of the show? Like he’s got a lot of spicy Yugioh headcanons so he could be wrong (He did tell me that he thought that Zigfried was Seto Kaiba’s ex boyfriend when he saw this as a kid which...that sure is a way to interpret this arc, and it probably wasn’t just my little brother who went down that thought tube there...)
(Bro Note: To be fair, I didn’t watch much of this arc as a kid.)
But he says the next arc was originally a movie. But they released it in the States as episodes to be part of S5, just to put more episodes in there. Which, if he’s correct, makes it seem like we’re getting like the Mulan 2 experience kind of shoved in between this arc and the next
But um..
according to bro it has virtually no card games.
.......
I’m so used to only capping 10 minutes an episode, what?
Anyway, until then, here’s the link to read the rest of these from the start in chrono order:
https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono
I’m kinda itching to do a Season Zero, it’s been a hot minute--so those take a little longer to do, especially since I need to go to a different site I haven’t...checked out yet...I’ll be back...eventually? I just know that at some point in Season Zero they fight it out with yo-yo’s and I want to see it.
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lovely-angst · 4 years
Text
anon: How about Giyuu gets his clothes from a specific place bc he's been in love with the shop keeper for awhile now? Or I suppose that the reader could be the one who repairs his clothes and he visits them often. The others are surprised bc wow this person got Giyuu to laugh and smile???
sorry for the LATE update!
**edit: fixed the formatting! 
When Giyuu found a rip in his haori, he should have been devastated. Instead, he felt overjoyed, thankful actually—it allowed him to go back to in town to the tailor shop. 
While that was what Giyuu tried to convince himself with, it was more of an excuse to see you again. 
Gathering his haori and his coins, Giyuu quickly made his way into town towards the tailor shop where you worked. With each step that lead him closer, his heart beat faster in his chest as he waited to see you and the lovely smile that captivated him in the first place. 
Standing in front of the stall of the shop, Giyuu looked around before a particular voice caused his cheeks to heat up. Hearing his name called in the sweet voice of yours, he glanced up to see you walking towards him with a bright smile, “I thought that was you!”
Giyuu couldn’t help the smile on his face. He was delighted to see you again, but he would never tell you that. 
“Just strolling through town today? Or did you need some repairs?” You asked before Giyuu lifted his ripped haori towards you, a sigh escaping your lips. 
“Again? How many times are you going to let this poor, beautiful haori get torn?” gently taking the haori from his hands, you bring it closer to inspect the damage before glancing back at the male. “But It’s nothing I can’t fix. I’ll have it done by tomorrow afternoon if you want to come grab it then?” 
Giyuu didn’t waste a second to nod, earning another smile from you. “Great, I’ll see you then!” 
He trusted in you and your work, comfortable enough to allow his precious haori to be in your hands. It was a special article to him, and with the new threads and seams added by you, they were now apart of the haori Giyuu holds so dear. 
His haori now held a part of Sabito, his best friend, Tsutako, his sister, and you, (Name), the cute seamstress he had a crush on. 
Receiving his haori back from you was always such a gift. It always brought his haori back to life and it seemed to have caught the attention of the other pillars as well, to Giyuu’s dismay. 
“Wow, the stitching on your haori is amazing. You didn’t do this yourself, did you?” Shinobu asked curiously as her fingers ran across the new stitches, Giyuu gently pulling his haori away. 
“No, I go to a tailor shop in town. The seamstress there is excellent,” he replies and Shinobu’s face lights up. “Oh, how perfect! Would it be alright if you took me there? I’ve been meaning to get the loose threads on my haori fixed, but I haven’t found the place,” Shinobu confesses with pleading eyes. 
Giyuu wanted to keep you a secret from the fellow pillars or anyone in general, really. He wanted you to be his little secret, but he knew you would be grateful to have more customers and more projects. 
Maybe it was time for him to stop being selfish. 
“Fine, we can go into town tomorrow after the pillar meeting,” Giyuu responded hesitantly as Shinobu cheered happily. 
Just like Giyuu said, the water pillar and the insect pillar made their way down into town after the pillar meeting the following day. 
The morning air was crisp and fresh as you began to set up for the day. Being used to opening the shop in the mornings, it didn’t take you long before you were back inside tidying up. 
“Good morning, (Name)-san,” hearing Giyuu’s voice, you quickly turned around, noticing a beautiful and petite lady beside him. “Ah, good morning! What can I do for you today?” you asked formally, a sweet smile on your lips.
“I noticed your amazing work on Tomioka-san’s haori here, and I was wondering if you could also work on my haori?” Taking her haori off for you, you gently take it into your hands to observe.
“I haven’t been able to find a good seamstress yet and once I saw Tomioka-san’s haori done by you, I just had to pay you a visit,” she explains and you return her smile. 
“I’d be honored to work on such a lovely haori,” you replied as your fingers graze along the silk. “If I get started on this today, it should be ready in two days time,” you inform as Shinobu gives you a bright nod. 
“I’ll leave it to you, (Name)!” 
With a quick confirmation and payment of the piece, you gently tuck her haori away before bidding the two pillars goodbye. Just before you could head too far into the shop and get started on your work, a soft voice calls for you.
“(Name), do you have a minute?” 
Turning around, your eyes met Tomioka’s blue ones, a soft hue coloring your cheeks. “Of course, what is it?”
While Tomioka found a way to make small talk with you, Shinobu secretly watched from the doorway as her eyes sparkled—does the stoic Tomioka have a crush?
Shinobu knew that Tomioka was terrible with people, to say the least, but if she dares, seeing him talk with you was quite cute. Your smile was genuine along with the slightly rosy cheeks you had failed to hide. 
“When you’re not too busy with your work, w-would it be alright to take you out sometime?” Tomioka asked, a heavy blush on his cheeks as he gave his all in hopes you would say yes. 
Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you nodded, a shy smile on your lips. “I’d love that.”
Shinobu’s eyes crinkled in delight. Maybe later she would tease him about you, but right now, she couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction. 
Love was a good look on the two of you. 
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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years
Text
Ace In The Hole
Masterlist
When the team decides to bring back Superman Wonder Woman agrees but on one condition she can bring someone in to help in case he goes rogue. Bruce agree just for a quiet life however no one was quite expecting a tall pubescent teen.
Warnings:Swearing, sort of angsty, bit of fluff
A/N: This was a request from priestess-of-death for a Scarlet witch type Shy Teen reader x Motherly Wonder Woman helping to defeat Steppenwolf. I used a mix of comic and movie abilities and got a little creative with the back story. This was the first heavy action piece I have done I tried really hard to make them believable and I hope it lives up to you expectations xx ps its looong!
Dividers are made by wrightyourmindaway
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Ace In
Diana smiled in encouragement as she lead you down into a...warehouse? You looked around slowly as you both breezed through some heavy looking security. You moved closer to her trying to calm your breathing."You'll be fine... They are children really, nothing to be frightened of I promise" you nodded to the woman fully trusting her, she had never lead you wrong before and was unlikely to stat now. Quickly scurrying up behind her your shaking hands clutching as her forearm in a white knuckle grip as she made it into the huge warehouse where there was a group of people waiting....
"Whats Mr Wayne doing here?" You tilted your head a little to her she smiled at you patting your hand but ignored the question as Bruce moved forward holding a hand out to her exasperated.
"Diana...What? I thought you said you had someone who'd help with-" he stopped when she shot him a look holding a hand on your shoulder she pulled you around her pressing insistently so you stood forward. Almost as if trying to show you off to the group rubbing your back as your breathing hitched. The others glowered at the woman behind you instantly making assumptions about you already. It was clear to them that you had no idea what was about to be asked of you.
"Why have you returned with a kid? I thought you were going to get someone who could actually help! We have a crisis on our hands here-" Diana growled moved stepping away from you making you panic a little just sort of hovering there alone as the other three analyzed you. Each eyeing you intently weighing you up, judging you. You wanted to melt into the floor you trusted Diana you really did...But this was big...or you thought it was, it must be she hadn't shared the details but for her to pull you out of school; And your attendance was something she was very strict with .It must be a big deal. You shifted from one foot to the other well aware of the men in the room outright staring at you. You took a deep breath trying to focus on anything other then the situation you found yourself in.
"She is here to help Bruce..She's something else powerful and I know shes going to be a great help." You moved pulling on the sleeves of your knit sweater the cuffs loose from the way you bite and pull at them from anxiety, you twisted the soft wool through your fingers looping and unlooping the hanging stitch around the tip of your finger, you looked around. She turned to you holding out a hand and you all but ran at her pinching at her jacket. Bruce wasn't convinced peering at you with a huff.
"I met her a few years ago, she helped me save a lot of people and is definitely someone we need on the team." You took a deep breath as Mr Wayne gave you a sharp look.
"Soo she has abilities? What are they?" You looked wide eyed at Diana as Bruce stood over you and flinched trying to tuck yourself into her.
"I...er...There’s lots...hard to explain..." you spoke quietly almost frightened of being heard by him...He seemed very strict. He sighed realizing he wasn't going to get very far in the way of answers from you, turning on his heal he threw Diana a look tilting his head at her.
"Right...okay so in other words not a clue.." Diana growled at him moving to shield you as you bit your lip looking at the floor. You could see the man was stressed you took a slow step back not used to being this close to strangers....you didn't like strangers. They were...unpredictable.
"How is she gonna be help if she is to scared to even speak?"
"Bruce! She isn't scared she is just shy... She has what we amazons call chaos magic...Its an ancient gift! One that is coverted by ancient beings....It proved very useful in fighting him last time!" You closed your eyes cursing yourself for being so shy, but you were surprised when the frighteningly tall long haired man stood from his seat on the desk looking to Diana then you staring holes into you.
"Chaos magic? As in the gods sealing disgraced gods magic inside a mortal? That Chaos magic?....Isn't that supposed to be a fairy tale? Legend or something? yadda yadda all that shit?" You looked at him as he watched you intently...Gods? You looked to Diana for help you don't know what the huge man meant but it frightened you.
"Not legends Arthur...They were real...For generations these bloodlines held some magical abilities...But as time grew on the blood thinned going from incredible abilities to clairvoyant falling further and further until finally the gods interference was... effectively bred out and they became normal humans again... She is a matriarch of a new bloodline... She has to be! Her abilities are far to similar to those of the first generations. She has Chaos magic and its strong...stronger than anything the amazons have seen in nearly two and a half thousand years" The man; Arthur nodded to you and huffed
"I know what they are... But You really expect me to believe that all that power is in this lanky pipsqueak that speedy Gonzalez over there could snap like a twig?" He laughed shaking his head scoffing.
"Sorry but I just don't see it" he walked passed you and leaned on a metal beam still eyeing you.Diana was quick to jump at him, hell bent on protecting you from his seemingly harsh words. The others stood back as she got irritated with Arthur and Bruce's attitude.
"Trust me on this she stands more of a chance against Superman then the five of us together" you looked up at her startled. Against Superman? Wasn't he dead? Unless he never died but something else happened to him something sinister?...And what did she mean against. Did they want you to fight superman. Fuck no. You pulled at her arm making her look at you softly.
"What? but I thought he was... I...Is that what you need? For me to...To what exactly? Fight him? I don't think I can-" She moved over to you leaning down, tho not to far considering you were very tall for your age having your teenage growth spurt a tad early and settling at a firm 5 foot 4 inches and still growing. She gave you an apologetic look.
"We are bringing him back...And we want...Need all the help we can get...We don't know what's going to happen, if he is going to be the same..." you hugged yourself tightly shrugging her off a little shaking your head.
"B-but you said...I'm not...What you saw me do could...I could change him, fuck him up so bad and then what?" She sighed looking down she knew full well you didn't have much confidence in yourself but the others? your outburst hadn't helped convince anyone. She knew you wasn't ready but she didn't have a choice, no one did not anymore. She moved back to face you smiling softly.
"Your strong, I've seen some of what your capable of and I feel like that was just the tip of the iceberg...I’m sorry for doing his to you, so young...so much to loose and If I could keep you out of this I would...I know I said that I would call on you when your ready...when you have grown into your powers...But we don’t have time for that we need you now...there is an enemy...Steppenwolf he has tried to end this world once before over three thousand years ago the three races of men thwarted him then... but he has come back with a vengeance and is here already days away from destroying this planet and we need to put and end to him. To do that we need as many meta-humans fighting this battle and we need Superman back... I promise that I will protect you even if it costs me my life...But please please we need you with us." You looked down at your feet and nodded.
"Okay...I will help...Can you just give me a sec....need to go home and get changed" you heard Bruce and Arthur sigh and start complaining they didn't have time, but Diana ignored them nodding to you. You smiled and closed your eyes vanishing in a cloud of bluey purple fog like haze, teleporting from the warehouse.
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Diana smirked as the moaning men stopped their bitching as the tall teen disappeared. She moved slowly to the desk leaning on it crossing her arms and frowned at the team."I expect you to be much kinder to her. There’s no need for you to go at her like that! She is young and shy and what I've asked from her has probably terrified her, but she is here and she is helping, that is my compromise on bringing him back. She stays, I'm taking full responsibility for her, you upset her or scare her away and there will be hell to pay! Understand?" The four men gulped each nodding slowly, Barry looked ready to piss himself. It took a lot for Diana to get defensive like this and none of them had ever seen her in the almost hostile state. She meant business. She nodded after meeting everyone's gaze. it was clear that Diana was very protective of you and none of them doubted she would rip them a knew one if they upset you.
"Remember be nice... This was the compromise and you agreed Bruce" Suddenly you were back in the room this time in a pair of thick black leggings and long sleeved blue top with tiny white anchors on it much easier to move around in...its not like you actually had a super suit. Blinking shaking your head a little you smiled shyly as everyone looked at you closely the silence was broken by Bruce who began to fill you in on The plan.
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You moved cautiously around the ship as Bruce and Viktor moved Superman's ...corpse? Body? Into the pool letting him sink a little. You looked from one to the other as they all began discussing how this was gonna go, for the mos part you tried to keep out of everyone’s way but as they deliberated amongst themselves emphasizing how this had to be executed so precise to the second you spoke up.
"I-I'll hold it.....If Barry is late I will slow it down....So it hits...The water thingy...on time." They looked to you, Diana smiling happy that you was willing to help it had been the first time you'd tried making yourself heard...So far you'd only spoke when directly asked something and even then it was one word answers if you could get away with it. She probably should have shed some light on you for the others and filled them in on your story but she was hoping that you would open up to them, she supposed it was her...Motherly instinct towards you she was trying to she was trying to use this situation as a learning curve to pry you out of your shell with the group so they would help you over your shyness...It was holding you back and she could see the others didn't really understand they didn't see anything but a silly little girl who didn't belong here mistaking your shy nature for fear ,Barry sighed placing hands on his hips taking a dismissive tone with you.
"How its not like you can see me when I'm moving that fast-"Diana frowned going to scold Barry for trying to dismiss you so rudely but was cut off by you speaking up for yourself, seeing a glimpse of the fiery girl behind the shy exterior.
"How can you say that when you've never seen my powers..." He scoffed shaking his head at you then turned to the others
"I'll get into position count me down" Before you could reply to him he was gone. you looked down to your sleeves again tugging on them. That was why you didn't bother with people, you were mature and quiet which was strange for a thirteen year old you knew that, but it never got easier having people always underestimate you for your age. Victor sighed looking at you he could see your dilemma to an extent you were much like him, you had low confidence and being shy wasn't doing you any favors he still didn't think you belonged there but he could see how crushed you was being shut down by Barry when all you wanted to do was help.
"You really think you can?..This has to be spot on there can't be any mistakes" you looked to the water again then nodded.
"I've stopped trains and stuff.." Viktor blinked at you.
"This is going to be faster than a train maybe you should step back on this one..." he frowned noting his comment had come across almost as dismissive as Barry's and you heaved a slow deep breath looking to Superman , he could see you fidgeting with your fingers again. He sighed and looked towards Diana flinching when he noticed her dark look as she shook her head at him then spoke on your behalf.
"Is it faster then lightning?" You turned to Diana who spoke for you and smiled at her as Viktor turned to you shocked,.
"Lightning? You’ve stopped lightning?" You nodded shrugging slowly twiddling the threads on your sleeves which by now everyone knew was a habit, something you did when your anxiety spiked.
"Ugh well yeah it was gonna hit the tree in my garden....It'd make it fall on my dads car and he'd get mad soo....So gave it a nudge... it was pretty fast so a box shouldn't be so hard to stop." He nodded with a small smile trying to reassure you. You guessed it was a good thing as he told you to be ready. Then it happened, the box began to fall and Barry ran...It was..he was to slow,well not slow but they would be off by a second or so and quickly raised your hands, your power lunged out in one short millisecond burst of bright blue making the Motherbox's descent stutter then it hit the water just as Barry Passed it. There was a bright light and a huge noise like a crack then you looked up noticing a hole in the ceiling, then to pool it was empty...Superman was alive!. You grinned excited that he was back! you felt a flood of relief as you realized the plan had worked but any joy was quickly replaced by a stomach churning uncertainty. You looked to Diana asking her what to do and she just smiled nodding for you to follow.
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You found yourself standing in line with the others looking up as Superman paced slowly across his own monument, like a predator.....A confused dangerous predator finally he looked noticing you all. That was when your stomach dropped, something was wrong, seriously wrong.
"Diana! I-I can see....He's not right! He-hes confused angry, the memories are there...but-but not in order! Fast flashing even I cant make sense of them...there making me dizzy!....they are confusing...it looks...Feels painfull" Arthur looked down the line at you wide eyed.
"You can see in peoples heads?! Fuck me!" You winced and gave him a quick glance not really wanting to take your eyes off the frantic Alien. You looked back at Superman trying to tap into him. He was angry anxious worried...confused all in one yet above all he looked determined. Whatever he had just decided was definitely going to happen. You gasped seeing him turn for the worst.
"Diana...He remembers Bruce trying to kill him." At those words Diana realized how bad this was and watched him ready to strike. He zeroed in on Viktor who was loosing control of his arm. You quivered not wanting any part of this, terrified as Viktor fought with his defense system.
"P-please sto-op it ple-please I don't w-want to fight him pl-please" your words were barely a whisper, more breaths to be honest
"I cant..I'm sorry" it was to late, Viktor had fired. You watched in horror as the newly revived very volatile kryptonian swerved dodging the blast. Suddenly all hell broke loose.
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You froze gulping physically shaking as the others dived at him each having a go at him each failing. You watched as Barry made his move but faltered slipping and scrambling out of the way. In moment of panic you moved, wanting to to help Barry who was still scrambling trying to get his legs underneath him to get away. Suddenly you were between them moving your hands up in a defensive move and stretching them pulling a think wispy cord of your power between them screaming throwing everything you had at the man? Alien? Your power erupted around him in a burst of purples and blues moving in an enraged roaring fire centering around him and tapered off into slow tendrils moving in a smoke like fashion. you grunted as he pushed against it. Cringing when he nearly tore himself free from it, you almost collapsed as he beat at it swiping this way and that. You glanced down seeing Barry sitting there stunned as you pushed back against Superman panting and grunting as he thrashed wildly at you.
"Barry! Move get out of here! I can't hold him for long!" you trembled body beginning to ache as your energy was pouring out towards him trying to fully ensnare him. There was a spark and Barry was gone of to the side. This was much harder then you'd thought it’d be and that was saying something. You coughed as he made a particularly well aimed heavy hit, the ricochet almost winding you making you draw back for a split second. Seeing you falter Arthur was quick to charge at him only to be batted away being sent flying as Superman man a bee line for you, he had decided to take you out first it seems. How you managed to throw out another wave towards him you didn't know but you had slowing him when he was a hairs breath away from you. You stumbled back quickly this wasn't working you couldn't hold him off for long. It was meant to fully subdue him! you panicked this was the first time someone had broken through it and you didn't know what to do. you looked left and right still trying to get as much distance between the two of you as he managed to land another hit momentarily breaking you down. you scrabbled back as the others lunged for him again all being strewn across the area as he still gunned for you. You struggled to keep him at bay it wasn't working as intended but it slowed him down significantly, his lunges and punches were more like a mortal man. Slow enough to dodge you cried out moving and dodging him as best as you could then you screamed seeing the red of his eyes. He was going to?!
"NO STOP PLEASE!" He didn't listen you could see it in his face, you were an enemy something to destroy. You pulled back quickly switching from slowing him to attacking him throwing a wave of fire? Energy? You didn't know what it was but it destroyed things and right now it was your only chance at survival. You didn't hesitate. You couldn't! It was wrong, felt wrong but you attacked him just in time his lethal eyes released their heat you felt it as it hit yours causing an almost sunburn like feeling across your uncovered skin. You heard Diana screaming out at him the moment he unleashed his red gaze at you but it didn't gather his attention.The impact threw you both back, he was up quicker then you. He got up and regarded you for a second trying to figure you out then rushed at you once again, you caught him again slowing him. He looked around and fought batting at your hold of him, trying to find that weak spot again. You moved deciding to read him, it was risky and if it didn't work you were dead but...But if it did? he would be back...properly. steeling your nerves you twisted ducking dodging his fist sidestepping him spinning and throwing up a hand just catching him with your fingers hovering them at his temple and pressed one smoky glowing tendril into his mind you followed him forward maintaining contact watching as his eyes shone a bright color somewhere between purple and blue.
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That was all it took to completely stop him, he was under....Sort of he was fighting you inside he felt lost and frightened, you ventured deeper projecting your self to him trying to show him you wasn't going to harm him.
"I-it's okay...I'm not gonna hurt you I just wanna help....Just helping okay...Please please don't hit me" The others held their breath not quite sure what you'd done to stop the raging kryptonian. Whatever it was working as he stood stock still his arms dropping by his sides looking off into space. Once you felt him relax you spoke to him again
"I'm going to help..Just try to stay calm okay?" he didn't really reply just let out a breath his shoulders slumping head dropping to the side pressing your fingertips to the flushed skin on his temple. You smiled letting out a shaky breath and began weaving through his mind giving gentle tugs here and there pushing the images,his memories together into something he could hopefully understand. You felt his mind loose the frantic undertone as you moved them into place and let out a breath moving your other hand to his other temple. he grunted softly moving his eyes trying to peer at you they were softer then before.
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"Err what is she doing?" Diana smiled at Bruce who had just showed up with a car pulling up behind him, a woman got out and ran towards them all .
"C-clark?" Diana had to grab the woman from running to him.
"No...Not yet, he is confused he is...attacking everyone he see" the woman looked on tearfully watching the teen with glowing hands do something to him she glanced at Diana worried
"Y/n She's....helping him she said his memories were confusing him, they were jumbled...He couldn't remember who he was...What he was it wad causing him pain trying to make sense...I'd bet shes helping him remember slowly...So it doesn't hurt him" as Diana said this the woman gulped looking frightened. Diana cast a smirk over to Bruce 'I told you so'.
"So she can manipulate minds?" Diana nodded
"I told you she is powerful she has an arsenal of abilities at her disposal....And as she gets older she will get stronger...She could get more abilities to but for now she is stable." Everyone seemed to take a deep breath as they watched closely. You slowly began to retreat from the kryptonians mind, he felt better calm and collected. You pulled your hands away completely but held them in front of you still, ready to attack if need be. He blinked once twice then a third and final time and looked at you clearly moving a had to his head rubbing at his temple.
"A-are you alright now? Please tell me your alright I don't want to fight you again..." he offered a small smile to you nodding slightly.
"I'm...Better thank you" you nodded and stepped back still wary of him. Your body trembled as adrenaline rushed through you still. Going up against him was terrifying and you never wanted a rematch You flinched when he suddenly turned as a red haired woman ran up behind him he grabbed her tight in a hug seconds later the pair were flying off...He wont be helping then? Shit. You watched as they disappeared only looking down as Diana had run up to you holding your arms twisting you this way and that checking you over."Are you okay? Your not hurt are you? He didn't hit you or-or" you shook your head as she fretted over you. You flushed as the others watched as Diana moved smoothing back your hair to look you in the eye, then ran her gaze across you again in frantic zig zags.
"No I'm fine...Didn't get hit, he will be back to normal soon...I put it back together again..." she grinned at you and hugged you to herself tight.
"I'm so very proud of you...You pulled through even though you were frightened and you did it! You were very brave" you looked at the floor kicking the ground.
"Y-your proud? No ones ever been proud of me before" She smiled pulling back from you.
"Of course I am! You were scared but had a job to do, you stopped him like I knew you could and you helped him come to his senses!"
"But he left! That wasn't the plan"
"It doesn't matter...You did it...You and I hope its proved to yourself that you are in control of this, that you can help" you nodded then snapped your head over to the ship, there was a portal opening up on the other side you saw steppenwolf in it holding the box. The Motherbox was gone...He had all three.
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Since the whole incident with superman the groups seemed more tolerant of you. You'd proved your usefulness to an extent so they were more receptive to you still tho they was finding it hard to see past you shyness and the fact your were a thirteen year old. But things were slightly better in the team.there was low morale they were irritated.
"Sooo? Y/N what was that back there? it think its time you told us just what you can do." the others nodded at Bruce’s statement. you took a breath and nodded to him swallowing looking him in the eye
"I-I can do lots...telekinesis moving stuff... The beamy fire thingy...That’s err w-well I’m not sure Diana calls it energy manipulation...I can sometimes make force fields and barriers....Teleportation then I can read people...Like look in there heads ...its what I did to him mindreading sort of and recently I’ve noticed I can twist thoughts...That’s what I did to him to but I swear I was just helping his thoughts were all over the place, he really really wanted to kill us..." Arthur wriggled his fingers in the air
"So that glowey eye thing you did to him makes him what? exactly." you swallowed
"I-I was..well... its hard to explain, he was angry, confused and in pain so i looked through...I put them in order;his thoughts...Just gentle tugs so he would calm down....The only other thing I have realized recently" you glanced warily across the room everyone was watching intently Diana was nodding to you she knew as you got older you’d gain more abilities.
"What is it?”
"Peoples perceptions I can change it as I see fit...Make them believe things...Make them see things.... Hallucinations and stuff... Make them experience their darkest fears of wildest dreams." there was a breath of silence Viktor smiled at you
"And it worked...Thank you I..We could all see how hard it was for you but you really pulled through" you smiled wide at them
"Really? Your not..not mad he left I mean I know that could have stopped him and dragged him back but I didn't wanna hurt the lady..." Bruce spoke up next shaking his head.
"Honestly if it wasn't for you doing what you did...We would all be dead...I'm not sure even Lois would have been enough to stop him. And you made the right call not pulling him back..Yo-you did good kid you did real good...But no pokeing around our minds you here me?" You giggled relaxing for the first time around them nodding
"I-I wouldn't do that anyway...I don't make a habit of it sometimes what you see can...Hurt" your voice trailed off and the room fell into a deafening silence everyone knew there was a story behind it but didn't press further. Barry noticing the tension spoke up.
"Soo is this a bad time to bring up my blood sugar?" Bruce sighed waving him off just before Barry left he asked you to join him. He had been much more approachable since saving him in the battle. You smiled gratefully as you knew he was giving you and escape from the 'adult talk' and followed him out of the bat cave.
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This was it, you'd found him the ride over here had been...Tense and embarrassing for some...Namely Arthur who had inadvertently had a heart to heart with everyone after he'd sat his ass on Diana's lasso of truth. Yet during his funny rambling he had admitted that the thought you was 'kick ass' and that he'd been to quick to judge you, which had made you beam at him. But now as you stood with the others overlooking the chaos being unleashed upon the people you shivered, those fear demons were swarming the place and they will pose a problem for you.You were scared. Scared of the fight, scared of loosing a member of the team. And most of all scared of failure.
You watched as large mineral like pylons arched in and out of the ground causing craters into the ground, they all moved faster spreading out from the center of all the chaos. You looked towards the others as they to peered down at the town. Bruce had dropped you off and was making his way towards it. There was a massive dome covering the town that was protecting it from any outside interference. You watched as a huge swarm of those..Fear demons swirled around inside that is what you were worried about. This was the first proper full scale battle you were going to be in and you were scared so they were going to go to town on you. You held your breath when Bruce got closer and closer.
"Sh-should he be doing that alone?" You asked to no one in particular they all watched humming then turned to Diana.
"....No not alone lets go" you nodded watching as Bruce broke through the dome hitting it full speed creating an opening then slowly the dome shattered falling to the earth in huge chunks causing the ground to tremble below your feet as you all made your way down to the town. You watched intently as Bruce continued his kamikaze mission luring the fear demons his way with a loud irritating sound blasting from the batmobile. Somehow you managed to keep pace with them only just reaching the town before the fight began.
In the panic you got separated from the others but you knew what you needed to do. You moved fast doing small teleporting 'jumps' here and there using the energy around you to attack the stragglers that Were to slow to catch up to Bruce. You moved with ease as you burned and disintegrated the fear demons one by one then as you go more confident you stretched out hitting more and more with each attack slowly getting the hang of it. You stopped on top of a low building trying to work out your and the others positions. They were all scattered but Bruce was coming towards you fast but he was smothered! The demons were attacking the batmobile in one quick move you made the leap as he tore down the road like a bat out of hell. By some miracle you landed on it as you did Bruce. Began bitching at you
"What the?.....Kid what the hell are you doing? Get down from there!" Rolling your eyes you pushed on all sides creating a deadly barrier around him instantly killing anything within a nine foot radius.
"JUST KEEP GOING!" You could feel his exasperation threw the metal of the vehicle, but he continued moving using your barrier to take out more and more of them hitting right threw the main swarm leaving dust in your wake as you tore through them.
"Okay kid good job....Now off I'm about to make a quick exit" you smiled happy that he had finally acknowledged you...Praised you. You moved to the side and off quickly pulling the energy that was clogging up the air around you, using it to make a safe landing as you saw the Batmobile jump and Bruce pop out of it kicking ass.
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You looked towards the huge nuclear chimney in the distance. That was your target, you began running making your way towards it, by now all your fear had died out. You'd found a new confidence, you could do this. You could help them save people. Save the world, and it was a good feeling. You moved your hands in a huge circular motion then pushed forward defeating large amounts of fear demons with larger blasts as you move further towards the epicenter where the boxes were clearly being held. Around half way Diana and Arthur caught up with you.
"Kid! Ease up!" You blinked confused as Arthur pulled your arm down.
"What? But I?" Diana cut you off.
"Y/n Steppenwolf cant know, we cant let him know what you are he will kill you...Its clear he learned his lesson from last time, he isn't fooling around one of your kind brought him down last time nearly killed him and he thinks that your all gone..." Arthur patted your shoulder
"Your our ace in the hole pipsqueak! We need you to tone it down so he don't get any ideas, you need to be up by Viktor when the boxes can be separated you have to be there and help pull them apart." You looked from one to the other.
"Clark is a no show and we still don't know how deep Viktor’s going to go...your the next one who can do it...I know I'm asking a lot but could you-" you interrupted her with a smile.
"You can count on me... I'll do it!" She smiled pulling you to her giving you a hug you missed the severe look the two shared over you.
It wasn't long before the team found itself facing of Steppenwolf himself. You and Barry got into position being put on what Barr called 'bug duty' you each moved around one another disposing of the bugs around Viktor as he worked. You flinched as the platform shook with a hit from the fight below. You whimpered frightfully feeling just how heavy the hits were.
"Y/n your okay...your okay alright! Just stay with me! " you looked to Viktor even when trying his hardest to work he was trying to calm you down. You ignored what ever doubts were in your head and pulled yourself together.
"I-I'm alright just ...Don’t worry about me I'm fine!" attacking the few bugs that your momentary fear had called over, dealing with them quickly.
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That was when it happened, you saw it Diana leapt down over Arthur protecting him from falling debris. For a split second your heart stopped as you couldn't help panicking. No one should survive a direct hit like that, forgetting that they wasn't ordinary humans you feared the worst and screamed out to them. As you thought you'd just lost the closest thing to a mother you'd ever known. The thought made you loose control the blast you sent out came in two shock waves, the first quick and violent making the earth tremble and the second a rolling wave of raging fire like destruction , you didn't know how far it went but it felt much bigger than anything you'd achieved before and brought you to your knees leaving you weak.
The you gasped when you looked up seeing Diana throw the debris away and you smiled nearly sobbing as you shook on the floor. The relief was short lived as Steppenwolf's eyes locked on you, within seconds you were held by your throat he hoisted you up to his face.
"Chaos? I thought you were all dead...pity" you struggled against him, weak and unable to anything more then scratch at his hand that covered front the base of your neck all the way to your face covering your mouth and nose. He moved kicking Viktor with all his might sending him flying then he moved arm stretched out over the platform. You panicked you needed some time to get your energy back, you were exhausted drained and the fact you could use your powers was making you panic even more. You bit his hand but to no avail he was slowly suffocating you, you tried kicking at him but it didn't work.
Suddenly you could breath! As you began falling you saw Arthur’s tridents protruding from the arm that held you. You dint have time to scream as you fell feeling a strong cable loop around your ankle. Bruce had caught you and heaved you up to the platform where Viktor was. You panted trying to ease your lungs
"You alright?" You calmed yourself down nodding to him then scrabbled to the motherboxes you needed  energy and there was a perfect source right in front of you one quick swipe across it and you had taken some fro yourself, like charging up a battery.It was lucky you did as steppenwolf was coming up behind you fast you moved just in time rolling away and threw a blast at him but it didn't do much damage you were still very weak. You moved changing tactics pulling the objects around you trying to impale him or something. You landed a few hits on him as you ran around frantically dodging him. Diana got between you jumping and attacking him getting him off your back for a few seconds.
It was then you heard it, the sonic boom that was the tell tale arrival of Superman you looked up trying to spot him. But in looking up you failed to notice steppenwolf stalking towards you he had beaten away Diana and was coming for you again he raised his weapon and struck the platform making it smash and you screamed as you began falling still to weak you use your teleportation. Your descent was cut short as you were caught all you saw was a flutter of red, you looked up seeing Clark holding you gently.
"Please pay more attention...people like him wont play fair now where do you need to be?" you nodded to Viktor as he hovered for a few seconds
"Right" he nodded then flew higher you squeaked as he moved fast twisting around steppenwolf as he lunged for you both with ease and placed you next to victor.
"Stay on your guard... I mean it" he pointed a finger at you as he spoke, you gasped as you saw a huge fist flying toward him but he knew quickly dodging it then punching steppenwolf in the face sending him into the chimney , he followed him beating the crap out of him. You moved to Viktor  and placed a hand over the boxes letting some of their energy flow into you, you noticed Viktor’s quick questioning gaze.
"Its energy....And I'm low so just...Charging?" He gave a subtle nod and continued.
"Good you’ll need it" You felt your power flooding back slowly you stayed still taking as much as you could. Only stopping when you felt a shift behind you. You turned seeing Arthur Bruce and Diana battling steppenwolf but try as they might he was gaining on you and Viktor the battle naturally veered towards you. You wasn't sure what happened but something must have as Barry and Clark were no where to be seen.
Taking one last surge of energy from the boxes you pivoted throwing it to steppenwolf blasting him back down to the floor below giving Arthur the perfect opening to strike from above the others following now keeping him occupied down there. You sighed they could hold him off for a while longer.
"Is he still bothering you?" You watched as Clark dive bombed him into the floor leaving a huge crater, as the huge alien tried to sit up Clark hit him again keeping him down.
"QUICKLY THERE READY!" You held your breath as Viktor shouted this. It was time. He called Clark over and explained what had to be done.
"And fall out from these?" You and Viktor shared a look and he nodded to the kryptonian.
"Err yeah big boom." You added he nodded as you all got ready, you couldn't worry about the others now you had a job to do.
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On Viktor’s signal and three of you pulled. You quickly realized this was going to hurt, you held your breath pouring everything you had into prying the boxes apart. Your body shook as your muscles ached and pulled trying to cramp as you pressed on. You screamed out i agony when you began moving them away, it was working but at what cost? You could feel your power waning fast quickly being drained. Tears streamed down your face as you tried pushing harder taking it up a gear. Your palms stung and it was getting harder to breath, the high raw power off these things made the air thick and hot it was burning your throat and lungs. Finally with one more heave they seemed to snap away from each other. The blast was something else it didn't hit you more like went through you. Hitting your insides just as hard as your skin.
You were thrown off the platform and hit the ground hard. Your back took most of the fall you wheezed trying to catch some breath. You could hear the other two laughing and joking...You didn't understand how tho didn't they just feel that? You tried moving only to cry out slightly it would have been louder but you couldn't move not even your jaw. Diana heard you tho and ran kneeling next to you.
"Y/N! Oh my god! Are you alright?" You looked at her panicked you wanted to tell her you couldn't move, but you could only lay there moving your eyes. You winced as something built up inside of you, moving...Bubbling almost you could feel it in your nerves biting at them with a sharp sting. It was quickly moving to the surface what ever this was it wanted out now! Your skin prickled hair standing on end.
"Can you? GUYS SHE-SHE CAN'T.. I DON'T THINK SHE CAN MOVE HELP! DO SOMETHING!" You watched as Diana's face went from worried to panicked making you worry more, you heard the others moving over to you but you managed a slight shake of your head. No get back! You screamed in your head for them to back away but it was to late Diana had leaned over you and moved a hand to touch you instantly she was blasted back from the contact, you felt heard her land hard a few meters away. Releasing the small blast had revealed some pressure and  was now letting the energy escape from you. In a few seconds you was able to move albeit you were stiff and slow in getting up. Your body was jerking and shuddering twitching as the your powers swirled around uncontrollably below the surface.
"Y/N what the? WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" You flinched and turned to an irate Arthur who was helping up Diana the woman placed a hand on his arm stopping him from shouting at you. Viktor to held up a hand trying to calm him.
"She couldn't help it.... The blast hit us...She absorbed it, she was using the energy earlier charging herself fro. It...she's must have absorbed to much and its trying to escape" you looked to Viktor in thanks standing slowly you could feel it the raw power ghosting the skin of your palms the bright blues and purples coiling off of you into tendrils of smoke.
You caught from the corner of your eye steppenwolf rising enraged he moved aiming his weapon for Barry. One blast was all it took for you knock the others away , steppenwolf  took most of the blast but you hit your target shattering his weapon the ricochet sending him into the thick concrete behind him. You looked to the others although they were scattered on the floor they were fine. You called all of the excess power fro. the boxes, it needed to be used and you had just the target, you felt it rise as you molded your own around it to keep control. The others watched at
"Wh-what no! NO THIS CANNOT BE!" He charged at you but you stood your ground the others watched as you became engulfed in a swirling mass of dangerous power. This is what Chaos truly looked like steppenwolf looked frightened and he had a right to be, none of them wanted to be in his shoes at that moment. You thrust both hands out hitting him directly he screamed still trying to rush forward but you pushed harder. It wasn't long before everything stopped. You let the last of the borrowed power rush forward from your palms and sighed.
Finally you was back to normal...Exhausted but normal, you dropped your hands slowly as everything retreated there was just a scorch mark where steppenwolf had stood. He was dead, you panted and wobbled a little unsteady on your feet that had really taken its toll on you. Diana ran up to you hugging you tightly supporting you as you dropped, you were dead on your feet.
"You-you killed him? How? not even we could all those years ago."you smiled then coughed a little
"Those boxes are...something else" you said chuckling you groaned as she held you tighter
"I'm so proud of you! You did so well I cant believe you did that, but don't you ever frighten me like that again you here?!" You nodded slowly to her as she pulled back holding you at an arms length you could see tears in her eyes.
"I thought I'd lost you! That I'd dragged you to your death!" You chuckled at her weakly
"Makes us even then?"
"Don’t you get cheeky with me!" She gave you a stern look then quickly smothered you with a bone crushing hug again just glad you were safe. None of the others knew where you had come from, or how you met Diana but what they did know that she had a bond with you that was not to be trifled with as they watched her dote on you who was very flushed and trying to pry her off of you.
"Dianaa stoopp! Their staring!" They chuckled at your whining and Diana's blatant ignorance to your embarrassment it was clear she was taking on the mother hen role as she licked her thumb and began wiping at a mark on your cheek making you wriggle and whine louder. The team looked to one another nodding making a silent vow to help protect and look after you. God help anyone who upsets this kid.
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