#new weave who dat
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Bab Rats: Chapter 5
DISCLAIMER: This POV story contains diaper usage, humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, gender transformation, breastfeeding, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!
Commissioned By: Strawberry
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“Hi dewe, Sam…chus feewin’ any bettew?' ' said Hanna with her partially perma-regressed vocal cords, receiving no response as Sam shied away from her. Undeterred, she shifted her approach, “Hey, I has an idea. How bout chu take chus mind off evewyfing and twy one of da new diapees dat da hazmats dwopped off dis mownin’? Ish a diapee dat can onwy be removed by da pewson who puts it on. See?” She tugged at the hem of her diaper with all her might to no avail before giving the simple lock print on its front a hardy slap. Sadly, her attempt at levity earned no reaction from Sam. Lowering her head, she took a step back from Sam’s crib. “Sowwy. I-I’ww jus weave chu awone until chus weady.”
“My life is ruined,” muttered Sam, his words lingering in the back of his throat and choking him up, “I thought I knew what I was signing up for. Now…I might be stuck as a girl forever.” He lowered his head between his knees, sulking.
Walking around to the side of the crib Sam was leaning against, Hanna reached through the bars and gently placed a hand on his head. “I sowwy,” she said, reaching through the crib bars and gently patting Sam’s shoulder sympathetically. Thankfully, he seemed receptive to her touch, allowing them to ease their tension slightly. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she decided to inject some fun into the situation, “Ya know, doh, bein’ a girl isn hawf bad. Take it fwom me: a fuww-time girl since da day I was bown. Suwe, da pewiods suck buh we gets wots of fwee dwinks.”
“Being as we’re stuck here, I’m not sure I’ll be able to cash in on those drinks. Good to have in the back pocket, though,” said Sam, unable to suppress his reaction to the mild humor being lobbed his way. He sighed hard, ridding himself of as much negative energy as he could, “Sorry, I’m sure you were hoping for a more playful playmate. It’s just…I always dreamed about being locked away in a nursery for as long as I can remember. I want to enjoy this…I just can’t get out of my own head. And now, I have to deal with this!” Using both hands, he grabbed onto his ridiculous double-Ds.
Had it not been for the lactation drug Hanna was testing, she was fairly certain Sam would have bigger assets than her. It was always the lucky ones who were never grateful. “Iswa says dey wowkin’ on da antidote so dis pwobabwy isn fowever. Why not enjoy it a widdwe?” she said, hoping to raise Sam’s spirits by showing him all the benefits of being a girl, “Wike finks about it. How many peepo wud do anyfing to swap gendews even fo one day? Fo aww dose poor twans girls out dewe, live a wittwe.”
Once again, Sam found himself in stitches over Hanna’s abrasive yet sincere comments. It was clear that she cared about his well-being, at least to some extent. “Oh…I-I’m not so certain that's a good idea,” he said, squeezing his thighs together to subdue the faint stirring in his unfamiliar loins. It was strange but for some reason, although Hanna and he had only met a few days ago, he felt like he’d known her all his life. Blushing as he caught himself staring at her in silence, his eyes darted away from his attractive roommate.
Yanking her hand away from Sam’s shoulder, Hanna too was in the midst of a flustered response as she quickly realized the reason for Sam’s abrupt head turn. As a bisexual woman who leaned toward liking women, she hated to admit Sam was exactly her type. Well, she didn’t exactly hate it per se but she did feel guilty about it. If he was even slightly into it, she would ravish him without a second thought; an intrusive concept that only intensified whenever she looked his way.
Trapped in a state of growing arousal, both Hanna and Sam were sweating multiple days of pent-up sexual frustration. Especially Sam, who hadn’t masturbated a single time since arriving at CrissBaby HQ. The same couldn’t be said for Hanna, though her steady use of the various vibrators made in-house at CrissBaby for testing purposes had certainly upped her sex drive.
Biting his lip, Sam knew if anything kinky was going to happen, he as the emotionally vulnerable one was going to have to initiate it. Mercifully, he had the perfect icebreaker stationed right between his legs. “O-Okay, we can try some stuff,” he said, shying away physically in spite of his bold words, “How about we start with my first diaper change as a girl? I think mine should definitely be put out to pasture.” He gave his overly ripe diaper a soft poke, demonstrating how absurdly used it was after more than three days without a change.
Lowering the crib bars, Hanna’s heart was threatening to leap out through her throat. How she was going to manage to conceal her lust while changing Sam’s diaper was beyond her. She didn’t even want to change him. She wanted to mash her face into the base of his ultra-squishy diaper until he came for her over and over again. “Hmmm…I not so sure chu neesa changie yet afta aww. Seems wike dere’s stiww pwenty mowe room in hewe,” she said, lightly dragging her hand along the muck balloon around Sam’s hips while passing off her desire to knead his diaper like a ball of dough as nothing more than playfulness.
*GASP!*
Having avoided touching himself at all costs for three days, one touch was all it took to amplify his need for relief. A shaky breath exited his plush lips as waves of sensitivity, unlike anything he’d ever experienced as a guy spread across his entire body. Now, he was the one wondering how on Earth he would survive a diaper change in this condition.
The strained silence from earlier reared its ugly head again as Hanna and Sam waded through extremely awkward waters. It couldn’t have been more painfully obvious what was on each of their minds. All they needed was for one of them to say something. Luckily, Hanna’s filter was nowhere near good enough to stay quiet, “Fuggit. Be honest, chu jus wanna do howny diapie stuffs wif me?”
“Yes,” said Sam without a hint of hesitation. Even he was a tad shocked by how rapidly the simple affirmation fell from his mouth. That shock served only to elevate his carnal needs as he opened his legs wide in preparation for the profusion of pleasure coming his way.
Unsurprisingly, Hanna wasted no time jumping into Sam’s crib and kneeling over him now that she had the green light to get freaky. Two wet spots began to form on her shirt thanks to her hyperactive titty lactation, triggered by an uptick in arousal over Sam’s approval. She paid it no mind, her passion too powerful to slow down over some slight humiliation. “way back and twy not to scweam too woud if chu can hewp it. I’ww take cawe of evwyfing,” she said, returning her hand to the center of Sam’s comically full pamper. Only this time, her touch was anything but light. Her fingers sunk into nearly a foot of the swollen wadding and its semi-soft, messy core. “Wowza! No way I cooda kept my hans off dis fo thwee days. I nuh seen one dis messy befo. Chu mus be one pwoud baby,” she cooed, adding some verbal teasing into the mix while her sensual hand motions cut through Sam’s defenses like a knife.
Sam responded in kind as his face transitioned through various hues of red until his complexion was cherry-colored. However, Hanna’s words, while embarrassingly seductive, were nothing in comparison to the shockwaves impacting his nether region. His body felt weak as he leaned against his crib bars, allowing his new, female hormones to take over his senses. Everything from the way his hair brushed against the back of his neck to the softness of the blanket beneath his thighs turned every part of his figure into an erogenous zone. “I-Is that what…s-sex feels like for you?” he muttered, stricken by the stark difference between men and women when it came to the Big Bang. For men, all stimulation was housed within the pelvic area leading up to a large explosion at the end. The arousal women experience, on the other hand, is far subtler, spreading throughout the entire body the vagina acting as an epicenter.
It was hard for Sam to necessarily say which was superior, especially since he had yet to lose his virginity as a guy. That being said, he was certainly finding a lot of appeal in the female side of things if his libidinous moans were anything to go off. Even the pitch of his feminized voice was turning him on, sounding akin to something one might hear in a porno.
“I gonsa make chus addicted ta bein’ a girl,” said Hanna, intensifying her hand motions as she whispered the horniest things in Sam’s ear; her breath sending pleasure signals from his brain to his slit. With her free hand, she grabbed onto his left breast and began rubbing it softly, ensuring her delicate touch never got too harsh enough to cause pain, “Chu boobas awe gonna be so sensitive cuz imma pway wif dem aww da time. Fink of aww da dwess up games an tea pawties we can have. I wonder how long it wiww be befo chu beg me ta fiww da widdwe pocket between chus legs. You wanna have somefing inside chu, doncha?”
Done in by Hanna’s bedroom skills, Sam couldn’t argue with what Hanna was saying even if he wanted to. It was as if his feminine side had a magnetic field around it, pulling him in and refusing to let go. Maybe it was the sex talking but the more Hanna talked, the more alluring the idea of exploring the opposite end of the gender spectrum became. He’d already given up being an adult and accepted the fact that he wanted to live the rest of his life as a horny baby. It wasn’t a stretch to believe he would throw away his birth gender for the same reason. “Y-Yes! I-I want it all! I want to be your girl! Oh fuck!” she shouted, mounting her first female orgasm.
Hearing Sam say those fateful words was all that Hanna needed to push her over the edge. She scooted her padded butt forward and mashed her wet diaper into Sam’s messy one, joining her in ecstasy. “Come here,” she said, wrapping the hand around Sam’s neck that had previously been massaging her mooshy diaper, she pulled him into her lactating chest, “M-My boobs are so sore. Please s-suckle them.”
Hanna’s pleas were immediately answered as Sam pried open her play partner’s top and planted her lips on her right nipple. Her cheeks puffed up with fresh cream, unable to keep up with Hanna’s flow now that he had engaged her milk sacs. “Ish sho yummy,” she said between swallows. Even her subsequent orgasm wasn’t enough to unlatch her from Hanna’s tit. The flavor was just too good.
Lost in the deepest depths of passion, Hanna and Sam had entered CrissBaby HQ riddled with uncertainty. No longer was that the case. Every horny thing they’d read online or dreamed up in their heads was now at their fingertips. Letting go of the last of their reluctance, they embraced what it truly meant to be a Bab Rat as they climaxed together over and over again.
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“Okay, I’ll admit when I’m wrong. This first batch of testers, while untrained, have given us more data to work with in a mere three days than anything the official testing team could pull off,” said Mark, sitting behind the glass partition of Hanna and Sam’s nursery as he watched them go to pound town with each other. He may have been skeptical of the Bab Rats Program at first but the numbers didn’t lie, “The only downer news at the present is that we still need to tinker with the aphrodisiac formula. It definitely shouldn’t have taken three whole days for these two to go to bone town together. But that can wait for tomorrow. Take your victory lap. You’ve earned it.”
Smiling proudly thanks to Mark’s praise, Dr. Madrigal was thrilled to have her superior’s approval, especially after he outright dismissed her idea initially. Soon, the rest of the test nurseries that had been assigned to her program pending final approval would be filled with useful idiots like Hanna and Sam who were willing to give up everything to be a market research dummy for an ABDL company. Where she’d go from here was anyone’s guess. Heck, for all she knew, Mark’s job might be hers in the near future. “Thank you, Mark. Coming from you, that means a lot,” she said, playing up her gratitude to ensure her rise to the top was as subtle as possible.
THE END.
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#ab/dl#ab/dl art#ab/dl stories#ab/dl girl#crissiebaby#diaper art#diaper stories#diaper humiliation#dirty diaper#diaper messy#wetting diaper#diaper hypno#hypnosis#crissbabydiaperco
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and finished it ,got dat true ending yes
def had a great time on the game 8/10 (but yeah performance def docked some points as well as some writing threads that felt kinda dropped, but am trying to in good faith piece it together in me mind so just gonna ramble spoilers under the cut:
when people said this is what they wanted the original DD to be i can see that but like i feel like the lead up to the game kept hearing people who know more about the originals history talk about how "40-60% of the original vision was cut down" from dd1 and i feel like my brain unfortunately interpreted that as "oh cool so were gonna have 100 new vocations like the monk and 100 monsters and the parallel worlds(technically true☝🏽🤓) and the moon stuff, neat" thats on me lmao
but yeah removing those expectations and seeing it for what it is, its def the spirit of the the first game but its systems deeper and more fleshed out not good at all the techny terms but im not very into or good at action games but this one made me want to be cuz the combat was fun haha
hmm writing wise there was a point where i felt like everything just suddenly got dropped once the godbane stuff started happening and youre suddenly barreling to the ending while everything else just wasnt important anymore lmao, but trying to interpret the story as a story the pathfinder is weaving, i think its meant to feel like that cuz we see the pathfinder essentially write us out of problems, give us a griffin to escape slavery, gives us a clue to where were supposed to go and the big one he like straight up changes ambrosius mind about giving us the godsbane when it wouldnt make sense for him too, the old man by harve even alludes to this by saying the real world is much messier when hes telling you about how fake everything is, like the watcher said everyone there is there to play a part in a tale hes laid out and i think he wanted to get to the ending faster. It's definitely another layer they added from the first games cycle, but do wish if that is what theyre going for(and if im not delusional lmao) that they did more like the ambrosius thing just watching as he ass pulls us out of dead ends making us feel what rothais felt when he realized all his feats and hardships didnt matter, also just would have liked more sidequests with fun characters lmao.
Also did enjoy the endings of the 3 major peoples in the unmoored world and felt like their side quests really fleshed them out and led them there to their endings well,mostly, very cool idea to bring it all together like that.
elves wanted to stay isolated but they needed outside influence to break tradition, to save their tree and how it all built to them agreeing to seek refuge with the other races rather than die with their way of life.
Ironic that disa was half right about sven needing to inherit the throne but ofc she was also half wrong cuz she a tyrant and wants him to have it mainly cuz of blood, but he deserves it cuz his sidequests were about him getting to know the common folk and becoming self assured lmao
battahl tbh full disclosure i messed up the queen nadias sidequest to the rose chateau, tried to scare the dick head shopkeeper into giving me the medicine for the beastren and got arrested so idk how that one ends(will find out in NG+ lmao) but based on the ones i did do, it seems like the nations whole thing was about always being in conflict with each other and how the unmoored quests there are about making people put there differences aside and band together, including the arisen teaming with phaesus. Also like the irony of their view on pawns being right at first but by the end of the game they end up being wrong.
but yeah do feel like they didnt get into that more, along with what the lambent flame is? (googled that there was lore texts you can find that explain how an earlier emperor is deceiving the people about it and what it really does) they also dont go into the fact vermund was a nation of beastren, started by a beastren and then history was wiped?? and how theres vermundians fear of beastren and human children always look like beastren and yet wilhelmina is a direct contradiction of this?? that seemed like a really juicy plot point but they didnt really do anything with it.
and lastly idek where to start with the pawn and arisen ending, found out theres slight differences in the affinity ending (got the high affinity one cuz reds my my gurl i always revive run straight to her to revive her🤗) but watching them talk about how happy they are to have their own will while saying theyd still do anything for you filled me with something, dont even know what but was crazy.
oh also before i forget another way its in the spirit of the first game for me is just like in the original i also forgot to talk to the person i was romancing and giving them flowers before the endings and got diff people appearing there just like my first playthru of the dd1 lmfao( got manela with grigori and sara in the true ending, was going for ulrika this playthru lmfao)
def gonna NG+, maybe do a magic archer and get the stuff i missed and try and get the other endings. Also hoping for another expansion/dlc like they did with dd1 down the line with more vocations and monsters.
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tee is fucking SLAYING this look !!!
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The Complete A Bucky and His Captain Series!
Hey people!
I recently finished my latest series, A Captain and His Bucky, so I thought I'd post a little spiel about the series. It's a canon divergence fic that I really loved creating that's this what if scenario that started with a short fic and expanded into a whole series.
THE PREQUEL: The Captain and the Captain (M, 4,040) - A What If where Sam Wilson became Captain America after the Battle of New York, Bucky was the original Captain America and was thawed out of ice in a SHIELD lab during the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and Steve became the Winter Soldier.
EXCERPT:
Sam had answered the call, fought through a secret HYDRA insurgency within S.H.I.E.L.D., told to go down to the basement levels by Fury, going to places he’d never gone before that day (probably because Sam wouldn’t work with S.H.I.E.L.D. if he knew what he knew now, seeing what was on those basement floors), to find that they’d been keeping the original Captain America this whole time on fucking ice.
PART ONE: A Captain and His Bucky (M, 42,999) - When Captain America Sam Wilson learned that SHIELD had been keeping the original Captain himself, Bucky Barnes, on ice during a HYDRA attack, Sam took it upon himself to help the man out. That was how Bucky Barnes, a walking, talking relic of a bygone era, began to weave himself irrevocably into the life of Sam Wilson.
EXCERPT:
“I just don’t understand, why so many tiger photos?” asked Bucky, the man currently stretching out the “Pinch Dat Tail and Suck Dat Head” shirt that Sam won five years ago at a boil and Sam’s flamingo patterned swim trunks, Bucky showing Sam his phone with his shiny new arm (curtesy of Stark Industries).
“How the hell?” said Sam, grabbing the phone, looking to see Bucky’s DMs filled with complete filth and so many photos, “How did you even get on social media period?”
PART TWO: A Captain, His Bucky, and Their Steve (M, 25,465) - When Steve decides it’s time for him to try living as a civilian, Bucky and Sam happily take the ex-Winter Soldier in and help him on his journey towards a quieter, more peaceful life.
EXCERPT:
So, maybe Sam and Bucky had taken in a stray Winter Soldier when said Soldier said he was ready to live somewhere with people he trusted. He had offered to go to the Avengers temporary housing, but Sam wasn’t sure if he trusted Tandy and Ty not to take advantage of an adult who they could mess with (there was a certain difficulty level an adult must get to with children to obtain taking care of Tandy and Ty). Plus, he didn’t want Steve stressed out with all the strangers coming in and out of that townhouse. No, Sam and Bucky had both decided long before Steve even called that he’d always have a place wherever he and Bucky lived, and now, he lived in their guest bedroom.
BONUS STORY: Impromptu Elopements and Honeymoon Suites (E, 1,619) - What happened in the honeymoon suite after Sam and Bucky eloped.
EXCERPT:
“You have such weird taste in fashion.”
Sam flinched a bit at a nip; light, but definitely leaving more of a mark than the usual hickey.
“You’re going to say that?” asked Bucky, playfully betrayed, “About your own husband?”
And a bit of Sam’s giddiness bubbled up from the word, because he really couldn’t get over it, get over that they got to say it about one another.
Husbands.
“Husband,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.
Bucky stopped everything for a moment, elation in his eyes, his smile, something almost heartbreakingly sweet about it as he pulled himself up a bit, giving Sam a small peck before saying back, “Husband.”
#only sambucky#sambucky#sambucky fic#sam wilson#bucky barnes#canon divergence#winter soldier steve rogers#original captain bucky barnes#becomes captain america earlier sam#my fic#A Captain and His Bucky
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Round 1: Operation Smoked Ham
The assignment? Search and Destroy.
The target? Local Wolfsboone dog.
The location? A forest with a winding path.
The participants? A silent bacon-flavoured child and a flying, talking energy anomaly.
Andrew was carrying boar around the arms, like a reverse piggy-back. (heehoo) The two were idly flying above the forest looking for the path to ambush the unknown two they were going against.
“D-o you shee them Boar?” Andrew asked his friend and roommate, Boar.
Some taps later from Boar later. N-O
“Whe-re else you wannananana try?” Andrew stunted out.
Boar pointed to a deeper part of the forest and squeaked.
“Gocha.” Andrew followed Boar’s non-verbal directions. After some audible sniffs from Boar, they perked up and pointed.
“There?” Andrew asked. Boar nodded so quick they jostled Andrew a bit. Boar pointed and Andrew saw it too, the dirt path that the “heroes” were trekking on.
“Foun da path.” Andrew commented. Boar gave a few taps in agreement.
“Up or down?” Andrew asked Boar. Boar gave a few sniffs before pointing down the path, towards where the heroes would be starting.
Andrew responded silently and followed in Boar’s directions. He lowered closer to the ground, Boar’s toes were just touching the highest branches.
S-E-E. Boar signed with urgency. Andrew stopped and dipped close to the trees to hide from sight. Andrew spotted the silhouette, nothing special about it. No notable heat, density or unique appendages.
“Who?” Andrew asked, info was key.
K-A-Y-A-K-I. Boar signed.
“Oh. Who?” Andrew asked, that info did nothing.
F-R-I-E-N-D.. Boar signed.
“Oh. Who?” Things weren’t going well for Andrew, he recognised the name but not the silhouette.
N-O W-O-R-R-I-E-S. Boar signed.
“Wheres da ofer one?” Andrew struggled to verbalise.
A couple sniffs from Boar.
B-E-H-I-N-D. Boar signed.
“Drop you middle? Make lots of noise, I take care of dog.” Andrew asked. Boar nodded.
O-P S-H I-S A G-O. Boar signed with enthusiasm.
“Lessgo.” Andrew flew above the trees again and right over the dirt path, trying to get the attention of Kayaki.
It worked.
“Ki! We got incoming!” Kayaki called out behind her.
Andrew flew over Kayakii, he was looking for the other silhouette.
A double tap came from Boar, they spotted the other one. Boar gave three taps, then two, then one.
“See ya in a bit.” Andrew told Boar.
Operation Smoked Ham was a go.
Andrew let go of Boar, there was silence in the forest as Boar fell. Then came a loud CRUNCH as they landed. A small crater appeared where Boar landed, the sturdy kid was able to take the fall easily.
“Ki! I’m gonna need a hand!” Kayaki called out behind her.
Even Andrew could hear the rumble of hurried steps as Kirai approached, the dog following him with a wagging tail.
“It’s me, I’m here, where are they?” Kirai said, getting into a comical fighting stance.
Kayaki pointed to Boar up close and then Andrew out in the distance.
“There.” She said.
Andrew had a whole speech prepared for this occasion. High up in the sky Andrew puffed out his chest, rubbed his hands together and did a slight cackle.
“Hear me feebew heroes! It appears you’ve stumbled into our trap, for you see my associate and I have the brains and brawn to-”
Meanwhile on the ground, the other three were just staring up at Andrew. Kayaki looked towards Boar in an attempt to get some insight. Boar responded with a shrug.
“He does know we can’t hear him right?” Kayaki said to Kirai.
Boar tapped their fingers together a couple times.
“HA! He does do that.” Kayaki giggled at Boar’s quick wits and impeccable delivery.
Kirai’s face looked like a squashed up sponge of confusion and slight regret.
Back at the sky,
“And fli’ it uhsie-down. Prince of Bel-Air style!” Andrew finished his monologue with great gusto and a beam of light in the sky.
Boar was still staring up at Andrew in a mix of wonder and disappointment.
“Means go!” Andrew shouted down, that time it was actually heard. Boar pinched down on their nose and nodded in a muddle of frustration and disbelief.
Boar took a deep breath and activated their Quirk, a blood red aura surrounded their body. Boar’s eyes sharpened on Kirai and they charged.
“Wait Boar we can talk ab-” Kirai cut himself off as he pulled a quick 180 and ran.
“Duck and weave Ki! Duck and weave!” Kayaki advised Kirai.
“I’m ducking! I’m weaving!” Kirai called back.
Boar wasn’t the fastest person in Taiyuu, a decent pace could outrun them, but with all of Kirai’s unnecessary ducking and weaving it was a pretty close match.
With all of the commotion happening below him, Andrew ever the sneaky boy, snuck over their heads towards the Very Important Pubby. Andrew descended slowly towards the good boy who was doing little tippy-taps on the ground in excitement.
Andrew came face to face with the dog, his target. With one good hit Andrew could end the whole exercise, just easy as that. But that would mean this poor tail-wagging, paw-tapping, excitedly barking dog had to get hurt, Andrew couldn’t do that.
Meanwhile, at the borderline bloodbath not 20 meters away Boar had caught up to Kirai.
It was brutal, Boar sledged Kirai in the face and did a spinning kick to Kayakis' side. Kirai tried to give Boar the old what-for in the form of a punch. It connected.
“Ow.” Said Kirai.
Kayaki jumped on Boar’s back like a spidermonkey, flailing around grabbing and pulling at whatever part of Boar she could get her hands on. Boar reached around, grabbed her with one hand and hit Kirai with Kayaki.
Meanwhile, at the place where morals go to die. Andrew gathered a large amount of his energy into his hand. Andrew’s right hand was glowing and shaking with condensed power. He raised his hand, ready to strike.
“Nebula.” Andrew called out the name of his Super-move and began to strike the dog, the resulting explosion being more than enough to snuff it from this semi-mortal-plantlike-hivemind coil.
“Barf! Barf!’ The puppy barked in excitement.
The condensed energy in Andrew’s hand began to fizzle out but his hand continued towards the dog. The lethal amount of energy contained in Andrew’s palm slowly extended out and formed fingers. The ticking time bomb of Andrew Energy scratched behind the ears of the dog.
“Who’s a goob boy.” Andrew said to the Booneswolf as he started scratching under the chin as well. The puppy responded by shaking its leg.
Meanwhile, at the beatdown of the century. Boar tripped Kayaki over with a properly timed leg sweep, Kayaki landed on her back with a thud. Kirai charged in for a kick to Boar’s ribs. Boar caught Kirai’s flying leg, raised it slightly and punched towards the man's Crown Jewels.
Across the island Wolfsboone let out a small breath of air through his teeth in sympathy.
A high pitched scream came from Kirai. Rip the homie. Boar shot their gaze over to Andrew and finally saw the tomfoolery that was afoot.
“Fech da shtick.” Andrew said to the dog and the boy threw the stick. The dog just looked at the thrown stick and back at Andrew with a small head tilt.
“Go on, fech.” Andrew encouraged.
Boar pulled out their handy-dandy phone for the first time today and frantically typed into it. Out of the phone came a flat sounding voice.
“God fucking dammit Andrew just kick the fucking dog.” The Text-to-speech said.
Andrew crossed his arms.
“Language.” He said.
An audible snap could be heard as Boar’s patience was through. The huffed over to Andrew and pointed at themselves and then the dog. Then Boar pointed at Andrew followed by Kayaki and Kirai.
“We swappin dance partners?” Andrew asked. Boar slowly nodded their head.
“Fine. But please don’t hurt Daisy too much.” Andrew asked his roommate and friend.
Kayaki dazedly looked up from the ground at Kirai.
“Hey, Kirai. You wanna do that thing where you get really mad and unlock a new power.” Kayaki said to the near unconscious Kirai.
Kirai let out a small squeak.
“Don’t you fuckin ignore me.” Kayak said, so done with this shit.
Andrew floated over to the two.
“Pleash don’t ge’ up. Then I’ll hafta blast ya.” Andrew asked his two enemies.
“I’m gonna get up.” Said Kayaki.
“Pleash don.” Andrew said.
“I’m gonna do it, and I’m gonna help Kirai get up too.” Kayaki said.
“I don’ wanna blast ya.” Andrew pleaded.
“You can just let us get up.” Kayaki said, slumping up from the ground.
“No, bu’ I can’.” Andrew said.
“You can.” Kayaki said, getting onto one knee.
“I’ll havta stop you using my villanous teknees.” Andrew said.
“Like what?” Kayaki said, helping Kirai up onto his feet.
“I’ll, uh, leave a puddew so yah soc’s geh weh.” Andrew said so very evily.
“You monster!” Kayaki said, having Kirai lean on her shoulder.
“....Now hol on. Haf I been blundered? Haf I been swindled? You were jus stallin for time wif dat whole convers-a-tion weren’t you!” Andrew stumbled out.
“Yeah.” Kayaki said.
“Now Imma hafta blast ya.” Andrew said, the condensed energy in his hand swirling around and around.
“Okay, Kirai.” Kayaki slapped both sides of Kirai’s face. Kirai cracked open an eye.
“Yeah.” Kirai said, his voice noticeably higher than previously.
“Andrew’s gonna fire a giant laser at us, you need to absorb it and fire it back at him.” Kayaki informed Kirai.
“No. Cards.” Kirai said with a slight squeak.
“Don’t worry, I brought leaves.” Kayaki said, shoving a handful of leaves in Kirai’s hands.
“Hate you. Hate you both.” Kirai said, leaning off of Kayaki and standing on his two feet.
Andrew's hand had finished condensing the energy, instead of the full fingered hand he had earlier it was now a swirling galaxy of an appendage.
“Quasar.” Andrew said the name of his supermove and let it loose at Kirai and Kayaki. A bright beam of light shot towards the two K-friends.
“Kirai, you have to try.” Kayaki said with emphasis.
“Kay. I’ll try.” Kirai said, holding the leaves out in front of him. He braced himself for the impact.
As Andrew’s laser neared Kirai’s bundle of leaves, the leaves emitted a black hole like effect and absorbed Andrew’s laser. The leaves in Kirai’s hands started sparkling a light Andrew Blue colour.
“Wha. Gib dat back!” Andrew shouted at Kirai angrily, that beam was technically Andrew.
“Oh, uh, okay.” Kirai said, just as surprised as Andrew. Kirai thrust out the leaves and the same beam Andrew fired out shot out of them.
“Oh, I get it.” Andrew said right before he got nailed in the chest by his own redirected laser. The impact sent Andrew flying back.
Kayaki and Kirai looked at each other, back at the knocked back Andrew, back at each other, back at the still out of control Andrew and back at each other.
“I’m the best aren’t I.” Kirai said to Kayaki.
“Yep, mmhmm.” Kayaki responded.
Meanwhile, at the dog vs Boar action. Boar had just finished up with Daisy, the dog, whatever. They deactivated their quirk and walked over to Kirai and Kayaki. Kirai jumped back and hid behind Kayaki.
Boar pulled out their phone again and started tapping away.
“Sorry about that, Kirai. No hard feelings? I’ll make it up to you.” The Text-To-Speech said on Boar’s phone.
Kayaki and Kirai looked at Boar suspiciously.
“You’ve still got a bit left to make up for Boar.” Kirai said, a cat in his lap and a cat on his head.
“I’m sorry, I just got lost in my anger.” Boar’s T-T-S said as the actual Boar took a sip of tea.
“You lost? You lost? I lost something.” Kirai said, taking a bite of one of Kayaki’s biscuits.
Andrew was still a little sad about Daisy, but Boar treated the group to a cat-cafe so overall today was a win.
#bnha oc#taiyuu oct#andrew meda#meda andrew#kokoro boar#kirai nahito#zuruko kayaki#first draft fuckers
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I walk upon a great hall, Part ?? + 1
It seemed to almost be remarkable that Foxrun was able to salvage some Horde gold off the coast of Zandalar without spilling any blood.
Of course, there were moments of great tensions, notably, when Zandalari druids intercepted the Dancing Dolphin, boarded with their permission, and began inquiring about the purpose of being so close to their lands.
Atvir answered with a half-truth. Sure, he was not actually there to study the Zandalari Loa, but he did have vested interest to learn of them at some point.
The towering Zandalari, even from a level below on the upper deck, responded with razor sharp tongues in broken common.
"I did not ask any ting o' you, 'Highborne'. Yo're perversions o' de wild faith are not welcome."
Atvir felt a rush of anger wash over him, contemplating some sort of clever remark back at the troll, but decided best to not make the situation worse.
What bothered him more was that the druid may have been partially right.
After a long night of lookout upon the Kul Tiran vessel, Atvir returned to familiar land and laid his head upon a pillow.
As soon as his eyes closed, the great, all-too-familiar aisle was upon him within the dream-view.
The faceless watchers looked upon him with their eyeless vigil. Even with such familiarity, there was a sense of uneasiness about the ordeal.
He wandered the center aisle of the wood-and-marble weave for what felt like a shorter period of time than his prior visit. Eventually, he began to notice that the building was dematerializing into an open sky with the vast ocean spread at his feet.
The dream-horizon baked the waters in a gentle, orange glow, mimicking that of a sunset. An object was careening towards Atvir. He glared and was able to make out a boat.
He blinked and was now at the bow of the ship, however, what he landed on was not of a Kul Tiran build. The opulent ruby, emerald, and gold paintings, the sharp edges of the boat, as well as the crest that stood upon the stern of the ship made it evident that this would have been some sort of Zandalari destroyer.
At the wheel was the mystery-of-form, the great host of the Hall. Sea?
Even with the dream-sun resting upon the back of the being, all Atvir made out was a silhouette. The form makes a noise as if stretching something elastic.
Are they smiling?
"Leaf-and-shadow. It seems you've made...adequately enough on your end. May I scrawl the mind to see what we may discuss since your unwelcome, uninvited visitation?"
Atvir nodded. "After all this time, I've realized I never really gave you something to associate with. I will call you Shifter."
Shifter made a noise reminiscent of a gentle wind pushing an old door open. "Boring but fine. Names are irrelevant to me, Leaf-in-Shadow."
Another noise, that of a musty tome flipping a book came from the mystery-of-form. "Hmm! A memory of an old crone...don't ever think I've been aware of her, and ah, you used a similar technique to expedite travel, like I displayed last time. The benefits of arguing with me."
Flip. "Hot air balloon trip with the Guild. Unremarkable. Hm. Lots of new memories of Her."
Atvir smiles at the thought.
Flip. "Odd. You've decided not to try to search for your father, yet."
Flip. "Salvage. You stayed on the ship. Irate Zandalari druids? You were treading on their territory."
Shifter emitted a groaning noise. "You've plenty of NEW things to discuss, but I think it is rather obvious what you want to discuss At-veer."
A loud noise echoed from the formless one, almost as if flesh, bone, sinew were in a dance to create something new. After a rather drawn-out transformation, there stood a nine-foot tall Zandalari druid in the colors of the Empire’s navy. Shifter-Zandalari snaps their finger. A horn of unknown make is heard beyond the horizon, unseen within the walls. As soon as this occurs, the ship begins to move at full-sail.
Unlike Lethelas, there is a face tied to them, constructed from Atvir's recent memory. Out of the troll comes a more accurate enunciation of what they would say in common.
"So, I won't say dis again - I did not ask anyting of ya, 'Highborne'. Your perversions o' de wild faith are not welcome."
Atvir smirked. "Well, you did inquire about what we were doing in Zandalari waters, no? I'm just giving you my answer to that."
"Even if that be de answer, I care not about what'cha doin' here. You are a mockery of our ways. The original ways."
"Your argument is weak. Perhaps we evolved from trolls due to the Well's powers, but our sphere of worship may coincide or overlap in some instances. We spent most of our initial expansion away from you. You never communicated with us. Two of the greatest powers at the time see each other, they're perceived as a threat. We drove you back."
"Den ya blew up de world! Where were ya gods den?"
"They were with us this entire time. Of course, the Highborne scorned the path of nature and in their selfishness, nearly doomed us all. I'd consider ourselves lucky to still have something after thousands of years. I consider the ordeal...a lesson. I was born LONG after the Sundering, so I can only take secondhand accounts of it."
"De loa are wit us through thick and thin. Dey do not abandon us."
"Same thing with our gods, or loa as you perceive them. Did they leave you when your empire stubbornly decided on inaction? When it was sinking into the sea?"
"Rezan had led us with great wisdom, Rastakhan an extension of him! Who were we ta question de King of kings?"
"I'd consider it a lesson, then. We cannot forget what occurred to us in the past, but we cannot cling to old ideals forever. Change comes eventually. I do love the gods I worship, I really do, but sometimes, that does not make them right. Their flaws do make them much more easier to be drawn to, however."
"Hmmm. You've given me much to consider. Perhaps seclusion has left us wary of thieves of knowledge and faith, after all."
"I was partially being honest about my intent of learning of Zandalari loa. I've known so little about other closely-tied gods to my own even after living for so long."
"I can make no guarantees of what could happen if ya arrive on dese shores for such an endeavor, but are ya willing to make such a commitment? Each of dem are different compared to whatever copycats ya have."
"My intent is to learn, not worship."
"To learn is one and da same, as de pink-skins call it. Respect will be de only way to do so."
Atvir sighed. "So it's like learning the forms all over again."
Shifter-Zandalari chuckles. "Heh, sometin' like dat. A pity dis just be a dream.”
With a snap of their finger, Atvir is pulled out from the dream and is awakened. Unlike last time, there is no sense of dread.
He looked down at his amulet, rubbing it with his thumb. He stretched out of the bed, composed himself, and began the next day.
Other dreams with Shifter:
Part ??
Part ?? + 1 - You are here
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Ya girl’s writttttinnnnn’
“My name is written in storm clouds and rainy days, I am the lightning licking the waves and the storm pursuin' the fucking sailor.” - Zafavri Holts
“Look at the truth, how it molds and twists, in this long life I've lived I've learned truth kills the kindest 'a men. You thought lies were damning? Just wait until you see the truth that slinks in the damn shadows.” - Zafavri Holts
“You've heard of Jack the Ripper, Ted Bundy and the Axeman of New Orleans, and you'd think the scariest thing about em would be their killer deeds. But the most horrifyin' thing about the darkest 'a men is, they were once normal, men. They was kids, playin' in the grass, fools runnin' after girls in the fifth grade, dreamin' of sunny days and sunflowers castin' beautiful shade.” - Zafavri Holts
“Your power is in words and hearts, mine is in blood and howls.” - Zafavri Holts
“I was once, just like you, dreamin' of better days, smilin' as my wife walked through the door, tuckin' my kids inta their beds. But the truth took the good man I was in it's stride, and replaced me with a sinister specter 'a all the killers before me. I am Jack the Ripper and Ted Bundy, the Zodiac Killer and the Axeman of New Orleans, but worst of all, I'm Zafavri fucking Holts.” - Zafavri Holts
“My father once said he's one dead dream away from blasphemy, and with a life of screeching dreams and dying nightmares I must confess, I fear I myself am blasphemy.” - Polaris Cougar
“I lost my mind in the confines of my skull.” - Barlo Brick
“I spin this chamber 'gainst my head and wonder why it ain't gone off. Perhaps fate holds her finger against the hammer, daring me to make a move against her.” - Barlo Brick
“I play games with my life, rolling these dice, playing these shitty cards as if they were a good hand. I'm an addict of fate and destiny, playing moves against her so she'll play fatal moves against me. I tease fate with promises of my doom, praying she'll take a lowlife like me.” - Barlo Brick
“I'm a reflection of my father's sins, drowning myself in the lights of the casino.” - Barlo Brick
“I walk, I talk, I breathe like me, but I ain't me.” - Tommy Graves
“Me father once told me, that if ya've got a board full 'a pawns, and the foe's board is full 'a kings, you play a tricky game of Queen's Gambit.” - Tommy Graves
“I'd say I've made friends with my demons, but they've made friends with me shadows, leavin' me an outcast in my own damn mind.” - Tommy Graves
“I'm startin' ta fear that all my thoughts are all my friends, and I'm me only enemy.” - Tommy Graves
“If my mother could see me now, she'd shake 'er damn 'ead. She'd say, "Tommy, with thoughts like these, you'll end up yer last damn name." - Tommy Graves
“Even when you don't seek it, destiny shall arrive all the same.” - Baron Xaverkit
“Karma rewards those who love with destines of joy and valor. Be more than a resistance against the dark, be a war of light and joy, love and heartful karma. Be the blade that spares the king, be the coin that sets the hangman free, and be the man who when stricken by his enemy, offers the other side of his cheek. You shall know no greater joy, other than loving others as life has loved you.” - Baron Xaverkit
“I am a mere flicker of a wolf, an ember of a beast. I am the cold afterglow of the beasts that made me, and thus, I am nuthin' but cinder and the pale spark, strivin' for the darkness 'a the night sky.” - D’Angello Campbell
“Look at these stars gazin' at me, some will for me ta reach em, others gather their rifles and prepare for war.” - D’Angello Campbell
“As I stare my enemies dead in the eye, and watch their smiles flicker like old film, I realize it is a mirror I stand before. Those are my hands grippin' the porcelain sink, and I wonder where the blood drippin' from the faucet came from.” - D’Angello Campbell
“My son has stared me in the eye and declared me the devil, he looks at me with rage in his eyes, the same betrayal the lord must'a felt as the devil swore ta rise above him.” - D’Angello Campbell
“This flicker of a wolf is slowly learnin' how ta fade.” - D’Angello Campbell
“In the hollow cracks of my smile I have found regret so deeply interwoven with my heart that it flows as blood through my veins.” - Bellamy Cooper
“I lie awake in bed, reaching for memories that are not there. Regina, my love, she tasted like home and everything I'd never had... I saw so much when I looked at her... I saw a sheet of twinkling stars, the sun bringing warmth... But most beautifully, I saw that woman dancing under the light of the moon, as if she was drunk off it's pale glow, enjoying the way the world spun. But I don't dance any more, I don't hold her hand in mine, she does not hold my scars. Fate has torn us from each other, and though every night, we star up at the same moon, I have to wonder, do the stars look at the same people?” - Bellamy Cooper
“The stars may gaze upon me and wonder, oh bastard dove in the pale moon glow, who have you become?” - Bellamy Cooper
“I carry this sin on my shoulders as if it was a part of me, as if it was the flecks of white in my hair and the love that once wept in my smile. But these sins were never apart of me, just things I did.” - Bellamy Cooper
“As my love looks to the moon, and knows it is the same moon I gaze upon, I hope she knows, it does not gaze upon the same man.” - Bellamy Cooper
“All my enemies were first my heroes.” - Paviro Le Rouge
“I could murder a drink for all these sins at my back, they've weaved themselves into the fabric of my coat, and though the devil on my shoulder is nothing more than stitches on my jacket, I listen to the whispers of the damned man upon this sinner's coat.” - Paviro Le Rouge
“All the candles have flickered out, the wind ripped the flame from the candle's wick, leaving nothing but the wax to remember the warmth of the flame.” - Paviro Le Rouge
“I once believed my heart held value, but it is my belief that it's only value is the ending of it's beat.” - Paviro Le Rouge
“Do the gods wish to serve me to fate on a silver platter? Am I a toy to destiny? I am a mortal vessel of higher powers, these whispers in my head tell me, "You will defy destiny, she will crawl at your knees and weep," but what of my, destiny? How can I defy destiny yet follow her road?” - Paviro Le Rouge
“To defy destiny is to succumb to eternity.” - Paviro Le Rouge
“A man once asked me, if I ever thought that I'm not myself, that to die would be to finally be me. And I must confess, if the void were to take me now, I'd find peace in that.” - Howdy Woolen
“Everyone thinks they know me better than I do, but if they spent one day in my mind they'd scream, shout and beg that someone would let them out.” - Howdy Woolen
“My demons share my name and my face, but with those crooked smiles, how could they possibly be me?” - Howdy Woolen
“I look to this ash around me, these scorched dreams and ashen nightmares, and I beg my father to forgive me. But how can he forgive me for killing his own son?” - Howdy Woolen
“Chaos is fair in da fact dat it kills all.” - Aggemuth Williamson
“God knelt ta me level and told me dat all men were created equal, in da fact dat all men die.” - Aggemuth Williamson
“Death cares not for who we are, it don't give a bloody fuck whether you're youn' or old, it'll rip through ya and call ye alive.” - Aggemuth Williamson
“I am a wicked wolf who knows chaos is da forest in which I strive. Dese shadows are death, da light flickerin' from da trees is nuffin' but false salvation, for just above da trees lies a wicked beast. Red rain falls from da forest leaves, remindin' us dat in chaos' forest, we are all nuffin' but blood to be spilled and graves ta be fuckin' dug.” - Aggemuth Williamson
“Eden only 'eld me down, da snake in da garden was me, I was da forbidden fruit, I was Eve and Adam. But most wicked 'a all, I am da heavenly father that placed secrets in paradise, and damned innocent men for the fings I did.” - Aggemuth Williamson
“Blood and death for peace will never be true order. We live a lie, believing hate can drive out hate.” - Shaymelina Demablossom
“I am willing to walk a mile in a bad man's boots if it meant I could see the world through his eyes.” - Shaymelina Demablossom
“ We are not creatures of blood and death, we are butterflies soon to soar, cats playing curiously in the field. We are dogs, chasing the cat because we think it wants to play.” - Shaymelina Demablossom
“Evil comes from brokenness, but so does strength, so why choose cruelty?” - Shaymelina Demablossom
“I am a reflection of my enemies, a sinful projection of my fucking vengeance. As I stand before heaven's gates, all that shall be left are three corpses on the floor and two empty fucking six shooters. After all, an empty chamber and blood pooling beneath my feet is the sinful mark of revenge.” - Jake Warden
“This heart beating in my chest is no symbol of love, tear into my ribs and you'll find the pitch black night sky, for the moon crashed hurtling into the Earth, leaving nothing but vengeful stars, mourning for the home they lost.” - Jake Warden
“My sister told me to rebuild my bridges, but how am I to do that when I leave nothing but fire in my wake? I only seek for those behind me to crumble on the ashen bridge. May they follow my footsteps, only to drown in the roaring river below the bridges I fucking burnt.” - Jake Warden
“Oh Roan fucking Scorpio, you are a beast amongst men, a wicked werewolf, but so am I, so am I. My fur has grown more ragged than yours, my coat more blood-stained than yours, yet still I seek this damning vengeance. You are a wolf of family and love, yet I howl of loss. I could drag you through the dark, and still, you'd fight for something less than yourself.” - Jake Warden
“My hands tremble 'pon a dead man's gun, and as I stare down the barrel 'a this rifle, I fear it's me I'm aimin' at. I see them burnin' wings, I recognize them howls as he falls hellbent through the midnight sky, cuz they came from my own fuckin' throat. But all I do is take aim, breathe in, breathe out, and shoot this fallin' angel from the damn sky.” - Roan Scorpio
“My oldest frien' always did say he was Icarus, I wonder if he found solace as he burned? We were both wolves in the field, strappin' wings to our backs, dreamin' 'a sumthin' greater.” - Roan Scorpio
“I'm a child 'a the streets and a warrior 'a the highways, cuz I stalk these forests, boundin' cross the road in hopes the cars will catch me, sendin' me blood-streaked across the damn grass.” - Roan Scorpio
“It's a big world out there, ya got sinners by the dozen and dwindlin' saints, but I spose I'm somewhere between that spectrum.” - Roan Scorpio
“Vengeance kills most men before they evah gain it.” - Roan Scorpio
“I know what it is to be a sheep, there were once pain in my name and tears in my smile, but as I looked through the eyes of me father, and saw his reflection in me own, I learned always was I a wolf, swindled in a sheep's soft fur.” - Bodean Clemegrine
“All who have been within the scope of my rifle have fell in spurts of crimson salvation.” - Bodean Clemegrine
“In death there is mercy, and in mercy there is death.” - Bodean Clemegrine
“If you've known fear, than you've known me, friend. For I carve myself into your darkest memories, and every thought of me shall be followed with shivers up your spine and cracks in your smile.” - Bodean Clemegrine
“I am the wolf in Shepperd's clothing.” - Bodean Clemegrine
“I've learned that monsters don't hide these days, they've too much courage for our own good.” - Terissa Dyste
“My husband wanted me to waste my hate on him, to rot away every moment of my day with crooked thoughts of his haunted bay.” - Terissa Dyste
“I can see regret in my angel's eyes, death flickers in his smile, and blood hides within the cracks of his heart. But I am here to fill them with love.” - Terissa Dyste
“Salvatore is no bloodthirsty beast, he is no wolf, he's the sheep with a heart too large for a single man to handle. He cares so deeply for others, that he would sacrifice himself to rid them of the pain they've been through. He causes his own pain to save others from it. He is no reflection of those he's killed, for they are bad men, and he is the knight in rusted armor, who has had his metal and valor tested again and again.” - Terissa Dyste
“I love him, despite the pieces of himself he calls ugly, I will twirl them between my fingers and call them lovely.” - Terissa Dyste
“I shall not suffer, I shall grow.” - Terissa Dyste
“You know, my brother once told me, in all his grief, that every time he closes his eyes, he can see the flickering of the fire and the sparks of regret, but I told him, that's just his bridges burning.” - Kindle Xaverthin
“We can't dwell on the past, it's where all our pain comes from, but if we push forward into the unknown, we'll find ourselves in bliss, for if we don't finish the race, how do we ever win? It doesn't matter what place we finish at, just that we do.” - Kindle Xaverthin
“I will follow the road less traveled if that's what it takes, but when needed, I will follow the populated road. I will walk in the crowds and find my purpose in the many.” - Kindle Xaverthin
“I refuse to believe that failure exists. Just temporary defeat. So long as we fight, so long as we strive for something greater, we'll survive. I don't care if your goal is to simply breathe another day or to get out of bed in the morning. That in of itself is strength. Set small goals and conquer them, and as time goes on, you'll realize you scaled Everest inch by inch, without breaking a sweat.” - Kindle Xaverthin
“My grief is a hungry wolf, prowling in my mind, dragging the good memories I had through the dark, ensnaring them in his bloodthirsty maw.” - Markain Hallows
“Turn your heart to the trail behind me, and realize they are lost prayers and dying verses. Behind me is a melody of the damned, and ahead of me is the end of it.” - Markain Hallows
“No wolf dragged me off in it's jaw, no beast took me in it's maw, for it was I who looked in the mirror and reaped all he saw.” - Markain Hallows
“I travel through the night sky like a regretful midnight dove, my feather's have been stained the color the of night I prowl.” - Markain Hallows
“You ever flip a coin and watch in horror as it lands on fate?” - Crow Abervith
“Fate has been controlled by the powerful, and though the lord tries to send a message to you and I, those in power turn it into a threat.” - Crow Abervith
“The dogs have been set free from the pound, and though they barked their warnings and bared their teeth, the wolves howled and left their blood to run on the streets.” - Crow Abervith
“The world is fading out, shouting it's final words, and all we can do is picture it's grave.” - Crow Abervith
“What is life but old wallpaper, resold and refurbished, sold as a chipped away dream?” - Shurrick Gray
“I can't stand these roses on the path, cause I'm a pessimist, I can only look at all those damn thorns.” - Shurrick Gray
“Secrets are barrels of guns and chambers, and I suppose the powerful pull the damn trigger.” - Shurrick Gray
“They tell us to think five moves ahead whilst they think ten. They tell us to charge into the smoke, for the battleground is clear, but this smog only ever hid our foes.” - Shurrick Gray
“My mother always told me, "It gets better, son, it gets better," But under these floorboards are where my memories linger, and in these halls are thoughts of home that force tears from my eyes.” - Shurrick Gray
“Look at me, selling my life as a chipped away dream, telling myself it gets better. But it doesn't, because the lights have kicked the stool, and this dream swings from a noose in the spotlight.” - Shurrick Gray
“I’ve spent my life with one foot in the grave. Life is a cruel and relentless teacher, whipping me upon every failure, demanding I give it my all.” - Juno
“My father was, everything to me... Really. He gave me the patience to find myself, he held my hand through the path and when needed... He let go. He's the strongest man I've ever known, he was the pillars to this castle I roam, and without him, I feel as if I am crumbling.” - Juno
“I am the damned savior of the human race, a hero who realized he was a villain all along.” - Cedric Popovici
“I 'ave been exiled from myself, I rattle the bars 'a this cell, shoutin' at the guards to let me the fuck out. But it's me guardin' this cell, I'm my own damn Alcatraz, and as I look at the world through diamond eyes I realize, I ain't the hero, just the terror who called himself such.” - Cedric Popovici
“The way I see it, I shook hands with the devil ta rid the world of a devil, only to realize it's my hand I were shakin.” - Cedric Popovici
“Every night 'a my life I see angels fall from the sky, and as the sun sinks I pray it takes me in her stride.” - Cedric Popovici
“The executioner raises his blade and said, "When I raise this sword, so I wish this poor sinner eternal life." And as my head rolled from my neck, I realized I could blink, I could breathe, I could feel.” - Cedric Popovici
“The remnants 'a my soldier's cape flutters behind me, and it only stays on my shoulders cuz I hold a gun and pull a trigger. I wear this purple heart on my jacket, and I spose the only reason that bastard's purple is cuz'a the bruises I put there. We're all sheep, I's learned, eatin' from the dryer side 'a the pasture.” - Cedric Popovici
“I don't need a million dreams, just this one.” - Maliella Ryder
“Loife 'as beaten me down and shouted ta the 'eavens, "Allelujah! Da bastard's dead!" But as I stand, and raise moi fists, loife sighs, and prepares for anotha round.” - Billy Jenkins
“I dun't look back at failure, mate, I look forward at da success dat will rise from it.” - Billy Jenkins
“I stand by and protect me sister, she's been through a struggle 'a da mind and soul, and I reckon it's da battle fought wifout guns dat 'urt da most. She's strong, fo' bein' 'erself, and I reckon ta be yerself in a world full'a liars is da greatest achievement 'a all.” - Billy Jenkins
“I hold onta my ma's words, cause some days, I see her smoile in mine.” - Billy Jenkins
“Da sun will rise again, wif or wifout me, I cannot tell, but so long as it rises, I bloody smile.” - Billy Jenkins
“I check my vitals and find my heart still beats, and some days... I think that's unfortunate. My secrets will be buried below me, bury me six feet deep, my secrets deeper.” - Laverne Powell
“It's hard to get well when your mind poisons you with thoughts from years ago. Some days I fear my mind is still plagued by those damning thoughts.” - Laverne Powell
“If the past effects the future, then I fear what's to come.” - Laverne Powell
“Either I'm a broken saint, or a very bad man.” - Chad Broker
“I've let go of all I am, wonderin' why, oh why must I be the outcast, the hissin' cat in a room full 'a barkin', hungry dogs?” - Chad Broker
“I'd shatter the mirror with my fist ta kill my damn reflection. Fractures 'a me splittin' my knuckles and breakin' my bones.” - Chad Broker
“I stare at the waves and know they slip away just like me. I stand in this murky sand, watchin as the ripplin' water distorts my vision. Always looks like you're runnin' as ya stand in the ocean, but ya stay stagnant, don't you? I fear I'm damned, runnin' in the ocean, knowin' the hellhounds will catch me cuz I stand still.” - Chad Broker
“Jerome's always said he's my shadow, where once he was my light. He's just a lost boy, and I'm a broken one, and once ya mix the two togethah, ya don't get a man found, ya get broken glass, mixin' itself inta the sand.” - Chad Broker
“The mirror ain't nuthin' but a reflection 'a trouble comin' and my sins in the wind.” - Chad Broker
“I'm a freakshow, who made it ta heaven only ta realize ta higher powers I'm the damn jester.” - Chad Broker
“I live in the trenches, fighting for a better life, but those I love hurtle grenades and flashbangs into this broken soldier's trench, throwing fractured pieces of self hate and tainted love into my chest.” - Saiq A’Badula
“Beauty flees from war, the grass withers, the flowers die, and the birds forget to sing. Instead, the beauty of nature is replaced with our unnatural acts.” - Saiq A’Badula
“They tell me "You're a soldier, boy, weren't you taught how to march on?" All I can do is nod my head, but I was only ever taught to march into the pain, not away from it.” - Saiq A’Badula
“I am a soldier buried alive under the rubble of his soft spoken regrets and wrongly placed anger. Flowers will bloom from this damned soldier's grave, and it leaves me to wonder, is it when I die I'll finally know beauty? Will I find love in the rising of the roses and the daisies? And I wonder, is death a cruel force? Or is she a kind mistress, taking our hand and leading us to peace?” - Saiq A’Badula
“In my presence, the birds forget to sing, the sun forgets to rise. I am the dark that allows the light to exist, I am the shiver up your spine that whispers, "Run, I am the dark." Look at these pitiful gods, thinking they have me enslaved. They bind me but do not control me. I am seen as a children's story, a warning to be good, but as they speak of me I grow stronger, my strength comes from their fear and the shadows that frighten them out of sleep.” - Kragikul
“Long ago, Life told me this world was not meant for the dark, if that was so, then tell me, pitiful goddess, why do the stars shine? Why do you find refuge in the shade when the sun bares down, but fear it at night? Am I the defining factor of your fear?” - Kragikul
“I prowl this shade, I hear every prayer, every thought, I reside in saint's dreams and sinner's nightmares, I am the beast that monster's warn their children of. Have you ever seen the dark flee? As the sun rises it scurries, and if the monsters fear me, does that make me the light?” - Kragikul
“I am the original sin, the gods look upon me in sinking horror as they realize, peace is fading. My chains grow rust, these vines around me slowly wither, and all the dark has begun to flee.” - Kragikul
“You want peace? It cannot exist with violence such as I.” - Kragikul
“Life ain't gonna break me down, I'm a ramblin' man who finds peace in the dusty fields 'a wheat and crop. I live true and loyal like they used ta, the world may'a crashed down 'pon us, and most men may'a turned ta sin, but these morals 'a mine stand strong in the face 'a damnation.” - Timmy Dayfield
“We all one day find ourselves at a crossroads, and the devil tells us ta shake his hand. It's your choice ta stand unshaken or shake the hand 'a the man in the suit and tie. Cause the devil ain't a creature with pointy lil' horns and a pitchfork. He looks like you, frien', he looks like me, and everythin' you ever wanted. But are yer dreams worth the killin' 'a your morals?” - Timmy Dayfield
“I've walked many a mile in these boots 'a mine, and I've walked in the boots 'a others. When ya see the world through another man's eyes, you'll either see that you're right, or you owe the man an apology.” - Timmy Dayfield
“To all the other wayfarin' strangers out there, findin' themselves at the crossroads, I say. May the wind be at your back, may good fortune touch your hand, and may your resolve stay strong in the face of the shake of a hand.” - Timmy Dayfield
“Time isn't my lover, it isn't my friend, it kills me slowly and drags this life of mine through miles of tragedy ending secrets.” - Evangalice Caesar
“I can still see him in my nightmares, he is a conqueror of time and has bent it to his will. It refuses to take him, for he sits upon a throne of humanity's end.” - Evangalice Caesar
“I'm driven by this hate for beasts I cannot possibly kill, I'm mortal, time eats away at me, but it does not eat away at him.” - Evangalice Caesar
“I can hear his laugh by the light of the moon, I can hear is hauntings and warnings in my sleep. My worst fear is not death, it is the sinful beast, dancing in the light of our suffering. He looks at our pain, he looks at these flames ravaging us, and he calls it beautiful.” - Evangalice Caesar
“I will go up in flames and down in history, for my dynasty shall live beyond me.” - Madusius Crudellis
“Tyranny stands strong in the face of revolution.” - Madusius Crudellis
“These men and women killed are a part of my history, in my memory they are immortal, begging for mercy I don't know how to give.” - Madusius Crudellis
“In the thunder I can hear my dynasty, it is it's own entity. It howls and it barks, it rips into all who oppose it. A blood thirsty wolf, my dynasty is.” - Madusius Crudellis
“I, in of myself, am a dynasty, I am of bones-soon-to-be-broken, and flesh-soon-to-be-cut, it is my mortality that shall create my immortality.” - Madusius Crudellis
“I shall go down in history by force.” - Madusius Crudellis
“Darkness was a concept created before God, even he must bow to it.” - Deandra Cross
“My dreams have died to spite me, I am in a cell of nightmares, and the wolf I am stalks the corner. She's such a damned thing, I can see the rage in her eyes and the hurt in her soul, but to survive this world, I must become her. This wolf like mask must become me. I will stitch these threads into my skin until this mask becomes apart of me. I shall forget who I am underneath, for she was not strong enough to survive the world.” - Deandra Colt
“My sister once told me that the weak get by, the broken die off, but the strong survive and bring fear in their stride. And I guess in order ta survive I had ta be the one takin' lives in my stride.” - Hailey Colt
“All the lights that pollute the sky could not bring light ta the dark in my heart.” - Hailey Colt
“Your demons depend on you ta feed dem, so taunt dem and let dem starve on 'ope.” - Celeste Crinklaw
“Me feathers glow with love and rage, regret and joy, I'm a war cry 'a everyfin' I've evah been, and if loife's a war, give me a bloody blade, mate.” - Celeste Crinklaw
“In me dreams I see a pale white 'orse, 'e beckons me ta follow, tells me dat I can be born again, and everytoime I follow 'im, I see a face I've seen before. In dat pale 'orse's eyes I see someone I knew, but I can't place who. 'E beckons me toward da dark, tellin' me dat is where I belong, but I refuse ta rise from the ashes as sumfin' I ain't.” - Celeste Crinklaw
“I look ta dat pale 'orse in da 'orizon, all I ask, is, "Old frien', where's your rider?" A lonely horse, 'e is, da 'orse 'a my dreams, beckonin' me ta nightmares. 'E's lonesome, wearin' the remnants 'a his saddles and the remains 'a his scars on 'is hide. And all I ask, is where 'ave I seen 'im before?” - Celeste Crinklaw
"You cannot come to understand the depths of the world, you believe the shadows to be the darkest thing this world has to offer, but I have seen things darker than the nebula." - The Watcher
"I have seen things no man could ever dream, let along things that he would want to. All my life I have wished to be a hero, but it is gritty work, it drains away at the soul, and I must wonder how much of it I have left these days." - Ickden Harloff
"There are things in this world that we do not understand, sadly, they must be condemned for it is the dark from whence they came." - Ryan Sanzberg
"My vengeance is immortal, but sadly that must mean, as am I." - Warden Wickersford
"My hope left with the beatin' 'a my love's heart." - Travis Vekington
"When ya lose everythin', what're you supposed ta become?" - Travis Vekington
"Went through hell on a Sunday an' cursed the damn pews cause despite it all, they damn me." - King Wardown
"Cowardice kills people, I've learned, but alas, it keeps me alive." - Verez Vagawit
"You can throw me to the wolves, but I imagine I'll be alright. After all, they hunt to live and the blood on their teeth is of survival, not sport." - James Ace
"Most people can't change because they just don't God damn want to. You can't expect life to change if you don't evolve with it." - Darin Zollo
"I am losing myself, I fear. Faith and hope are hard to come by as your heart slowly falters to the shadow and forgets the warmth of light." - Shan'Bellwitz
"I wish to drift away from this place as nothing more than peace and smoke on the wind." - Shan'Bellron
"I was lost out at sea, trying to find me, but all I became was stranded, vying for something better, yet becoming sumthin' worse." - Ben Stilts
“Every sinnin’ man fears the devil.” - Ben Stilts
"Scars leave us bettah or worse off. I reckon mine left me wif' glory." - Pugrish the Mountain
"What's belief without sumthin' to worship?" - Shonas Green
"Ya know what they do with broken men, Mortley? They put em all in this box, and they say, "This is all ya are, we ain't confinin' ya, we're just givin' ya a playground ta roam. But as we get older we realize the walls are sky high and they weren't built ta be fuckin' climbed." - Bortley Dekruiful
"It is in pain that we find a new identity, one which lives alongside the tears." - Mortley Dekruiful
"I'm not concerned about my importance to the world, just the fact that I lived in it, and that it was real." - Milton Modayne
"My whole life has been screaming in a single pitch tune, yet I sit here and wonder, what point is there to a chorus when there was never a melody? I am plucking broken strings, expecting a soft song, but I suppose it's foolish, expecting music from a hurting soul." - Milton Modayne
"When you're born in the shade you begin to fall into the delusion that the light is something damning." - Natalia Shelvikit
"As humans we have an innate desire to feel something that is not ourselves, to be something other than we were meant to be. We have been trying to defy destiny for so long that we never thought to pick up the quill and write something other than fate within our lives. We seek to conquer destiny, yet it is what lies outside the realm of fate that we fear." - Ramazalo Shelvikit
"He who fights for himself migh' as well lay down his fists and le' the bullets rain down." - Gromkal Batterfist
"It's strange, how we damn those who fight for justice, but never they who we fight against." - Tovil Quinn
"Dreams are only a broken perception of reality, mate... And sometimes, we need ta wake da fuck up." - Jerry Benson
"Ze zing I fear ze most, iz zat death is ze end. And yet I know that it iz." - Thaddaeus Rediger
"Praying is not the solution to all burdens on the soul." - Jonathan Covaks
I's been carryin' a burden for some time now, you know 'ow crosses are heavy on the back, always pushin' ya back inta the graves ya try to dig, always findin' a new way to rip the skeletons from yer closet." - Mike Fausselkoff
"Sins, always catchin' us humans off guard. We tell ourselves we'll never be like Adam, we'll never be like Eve, but then that forbidden fruit comes along and we begin ta wonder. What does it taste like? We wrap ourselves up in all this curiosity, this wonder. We become our own snakes in our own little garden 'a Eden. Well, I spose that fruit came along." - Mike Fausselkoff
"Mr. Stilts, Mr. Skinwalker, karma is at your door." - Cortez Cloves
"A life of killing is better than a life of rotting." - Cortez Cloves
"If I were you, I would not tempt fate so cruelly. Fate is never in the one man's favor, it is always in the favor of the crowd, never he who flips the coin." - Borbasli Orgazi
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Lost in Halloweenia! Ch7
Crosspost from ffnet and AO3.
Summary: It’s Halloween! Ash and the gang are living it up trick or treating when they stumble upon a strange house with some strange artifacts. What mysteries do they hold and…wait, who are those three lurking behind them?
Word Count: 3,932/27,343
Previous chapter here
Next chapter here
Chapter 7: Double Double Toil and Trouble
Well, folks, we were left with quite the cliffhanger last time, weren’t we? Last we knew, Misty was nothing short of hopping mad and Ash had just discovered the nefarious Team Rocket in the home of a still-mysterious Umbreon named Kitsume. And poor Brock was left as the sane one. Hey, wait! If Brock is the sane one, then what am I?
“I’m getting that crown back!”
“Hold on!”
Ash stopped in midair as Jessie and James suddenly shifted to standing, before they realized that they were standing square on top of their Pokémon. They then took a single step off and cleared their throats before sinister music began in the background as if from nowhere.
“Prepare yourself, twerp, for double, double, toil and trouble!” Jessie began.
“And make it double as fire burn and cauldron bubble!” James continued.
“To protect Halloweenia from devastation!”
“To find our way out of this mysterious nation!”
“To denounce the evils of ghosts and goblins!”
“To extend our reach up out of a coffin!”
“Jessie!”
“James!”
“Team Rocket, blast off at the speed of light!”
“Surrender now, or prepare to fight!”
“Meowth, dat’s right!”
“Wobbuffett!”
After pleasantly sitting through the motto, Ash steeled himself for Battle. “Then let’s fight! Pikachu, Thunderbolt!”
“Victreebel, use Vine Whip!”
“Arbok, Poison Sting Attack!”
“Oh, yeah? Two can play at that game! Cyndaquil, go!”
An all-out Battle began in Kitsume’s house, but against all odds, Kitsume couldn’t have been more thrilled. She strapped on her vacuum and sucked up every Attack as quickly as it was called, leaving the Battle at a complete standstill.
“Razor Leaf!”
“Ember!”
“Acid!”
“Agility!”
Sweat began dripping down Ash’s brow as not a single Attack made contact. He was hoping that Pikachu’s speed would get him to land an Attack before it was sucked up, but somehow even a blast of electricity was able to be bottled up and contained for posterity.
He quickly was growing frustrated. “Try a Quick Attack!”
But, as Pikachu ran into the fray, even he began to feel the effects of the strong vacuum and had to scramble back to the sidelines just to avoid being sucked up.
Ash grunted. This was going nowhere. “Pikachu.” Ash’s expression hardened as Pikachu turned back to look at him. “Thunderbolt on that Umbreon!”
Kitsume, for her part, hardly looked disturbed. She simply smirked and before Pikachu’s cheeks could let off so much as a crackle of electricity, she said, “I don’t think so.”
And the whole world changed.
“Whoa!” Team Rocket intoned, their voices wavering like they were struggling to keep their balance atop a surf board.
Suddenly, the cabin as a whole disappeared, and Ash, Pikachu, and Team Rocket found themselves standing in a swirling world of black, purple, red and pink, with no floor or ceiling to ground them. They were floating in space as all of the objects of the room swirled around them, like gravity had simply given up.
Kitsume, however, was the biggest surprise of all. Her body was now leaner and bipedal, her snout had lengthened and sharpened and she had grown a long mane of pointed red hair. Ash looked at her, completely taken aback.
“What’s that?”
Ash couldn’t help but—even in the confusion—pull out his Pokédex and aim it towards the…whatever it was that had just manifested before them.
“Zoroark, the illusion fox Pokémon and the evolved form of Zorua. Each has the ability to fool a large group of people simultaneously through the use of illusion.”
“Oops, there goes my secret,” Kitsume said, though her smile was anything but rueful.
In her new form, Kitsume quickly scurried about the strange space and gathered all of her now-floating objects into her arms. Then, with nothing more than a blink, Kitsume created a break in the illusion, a window where the one in the house had been. She made as if to take off out of it before, in a split second, darting across the room and grabbing Jessie’s sack as well.
“Bring more Pokémon if you want the bag back! If you can find me! Haha!”
Not a moment later, she was out the window, leaving Ash and everyone else with nothing but a gust of wind and the echoes of Kitsume’s cackling laughter.
But Ash wasn’t about to stand for that. “Not so fast!” he shouted.
In a moment, Ash leapt out of the window, Pikachu and Cyndaquil on his heels as they chased Kitsume outside.
Team Rocket, wary of being left behind, ran to follow Ash, but just as they made it to the window, it winked out of existence altogether. Then, to their horror, they were trapped in the swirling illusion, now with no way out.
“Team Rocket’s left behind again!”
“Okay, the king doesn’t have the crown. The king has never not had the crown! Not since I’ve been alive. So I don’t know how long he can be without it. And how long can a Fairy help him? And a baby? Not long, I guess…but then how long has the crown been missing? Oh my GOSH how much time do we have left? I can feel my life slipping away from me. This is the end, I know it! Goodbye, cruel world! So should I help these kids with my final minutes or…”
After Misty’s outburst, Brock had managed to pull her back from running around a mysterious castle with the threat of attacking a reigning king still on her tongue. Since then, Misty had calmed somewhat, but Litty…
“But I was supposed to just have fun by following these kids, and now my life is in danger? UGH!”
…had gone around the bend.
Litty, while monologuing, was pacing in a very small circle, around which Broomba was sweeping. Not that Litty left much of a mess, but it seemed to…soothe Broomba? Brock and Misty didn’t know—it didn’t have a face!
It was even worse than having to identify Staryu’s emotions.
“Litty!” Misty cried out, her desperation finally coming to a head. “Help us find Togepi!”
Suddenly, Litty snapped out of it and turned to face Misty. “Right. You’re right. The king will be fine. We should just help the Fairy.”
Brock and Misty nodded, smiles finally gracing their faces in resounding relief.
“But we will not be fine if we go challenge the King, just the three of us. This problem is bigger than either of you can imagine.”
Misty’s eyes widened in worry. “Then what should we do?”
Litty looked resolved. “We go to the library.”
“Is that where Blair and Lassie are?” Brock asked.
“No. But backup is.”
Litty seemed to know the castle surprisingly well, and they made it to the library in no time once Litty requested Brock carry him the rest of the way. Apparently, no matter how well you know a castle, it’s all for naught if your legs are the size of a seeded grape.
The library was a large room, dimly lit with racks upon racks of books. And there were books heaped everywhere. Open on the floor, scattered to the wind, every which way. This perked Broomba up immediately, who then went after every book on the floor, despite not having hands with which to pick them up. Broomba just kinda of…scooted them around. But it seemed to be enjoying it!
…Once again, that would be if one could tell if Broomba enjoyed anything.
As for the rest of the figures in the room, there were some Zubat hanging from the open beams on the ceiling, a skeleton sleeping—at least, Brock and Misty hoped it was sleeping—on a settee, and a Litten all curled up by a fireplace in what was clearly a reading nook.
And there were dozens of Chandelure floating about, providing most if not all of the light in the room.
“Uh, shouldn’t that be a fire hazard?” Brock asked, pointing to some of the closer Chandelure, floating about autonomously.
“Nope,” Litty chirped, hopping out of Brock’s hands. “This is our residence! Besides, our natural fire doesn’t tend to burn paper so much as it burns souls.”
Brock and Misty took an enthusiastic step back away as Litty glanced about.
“Okay, fam!” he called, putting a hand to his little mouth. “We’ve got a real problem on our hands!”
Suddenly, Brock and Misty found themselves surrounded by all the Chandelure in the room. They gulped nervously at their expressionless faces. Their eyes were just so wide…and…soulless.
“Let’s go see the king!”
At those words, Misty, at least, finally got her fire back. “And save Togepi!”
The going was dark. And Kitsume was dark; her body fading entirely into the shrouds of the forest that she had led them into. A break in the trees led to the moonlight casting enough light to occasionally catch sight of her red hair, but aside from that, it was hope more than knowledge that fueled his footsteps.
Eventually, Cyndaquil got in front, setting its back ablaze to add a little extra light to the night. “Thanks, Cyndaquil,” Ash huffed as they continued zigzagging through the trees.
Pikachu too ran in front of Ash, as Pokémon tended to have better vision in the dark than humans did. Hence why Kitsume seemed to so effortlessly weave between the trees without having to worry about tripping over a root or, let’s face it, running straight into one of the trees, like Ash did.
Then, suddenly, there was a clearing in the woods. It was still dark with the cover of trees, and eerily silent, but it was a whole circle of open space. And Kitsume entered it, only to completely disappear from sight a moment later. Ash, Pikachu, and Cyndaquil ran into the center and looked around, but to no avail. All that was near was darkness.
“Kitsume?” Ash called out in frustration. “Come out here!”
“Pika!”
“Quil!”
Softly, they began to hear a whisper from the trees. It grew into a laugh before evolving into an all out cackling, sounding like it was coming from all directions—from the very trees themselves.
Then, Kitsume appeared from out of the woodwork, her head lowered and her eyes sinister. “So you really want to show me some moves, huh?”
“No, we want to get that bag back!” Ash declared.
The bag, however, was nowhere in sight. Kitsume must have stashed it somewhere in the woods.
Kitsume was undeterred. “I think you’ll change your mind.”
Suddenly, all around in the woods, red eyes began to glow, one by one until nearly twenty sets of eyes were staring at them. Slowly, they came closer until bodies came to form in the darkness. It was a whole pack of Zoroark.
Kitsume smiled, eyeing her family members. “I think you’ll want to release all of your Pokémon to battle us.”
Ash grit his teeth. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”
He reached for his ‘Belt and grabbed his remaining four PokéBalls, enlarging them all at once. In a blinding burst of light, out came Totodile, Phanpy, Noctowl, and Bayleef, who promptly ran over to Ash to nuzzle him, pushing Pikachu out of the way as she did so.
“Hi, Bayleef,” Ash said awkwardly. “Sorry, but we kind of have big problems right now.”
Bayleef turned back to the pack of Zoroark, and immediately cowered, like all of the rest of the Pokémon were doing. The Zoroark wore mirrored menacing smiles, each like a perfect shadow of the one next to it and made not a single sound. Like they weren’t even breathing.
Kitsume opened her arms, barring her chest to steal Ash’s focus back. “Battle us for it.”
Ash narrowed his eyes, turning his hat around and widening his stance. He could do this. He would do this.
“Fine, I will! Cyndaquil! Use Flamethrower!”
Cyndaquil let the flame on its back grow as it created a ball of fire in its mouth. Kitsume was nearly salivating in anticipation, her vacuum at the ready.
“Cynda…quil!”
The Flamethrower lit up the dark woods, blinding everyone for a moment. Nevertheless, Kitsume managed to suck up the Attack, leaving it flickering in a little glass bottle like a harmless candle.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
“Not even close!” Ash shouted. “Noctowl, use Confusion on that side and Bayleef, use Razor Leaf on the others!”
Noctowl and Bayleef stood back to back, each taking on half of the circle. However, Kitsume ran around swiftly, her footsteps light and soundless as she stole both Attacks from out of the air.
Ash wasn’t used to having to handle so many Pokémon in a Battle. Never had he even seen a Battle with so many moving parts. But it was clear he’d have to figure it out sooner rather than later. The problem was that darn vacuum! If only he could destroy it somehow…
“Okay, Totodile, Water Gun! And Bayleef, use another Razor Leaf!”
Totodile immediately began spraying in the direction of half of the Zoroark and Bayleef took on the other half. But Kitsume, as predicted, ran around as fast as she could with that vacuum. Ash looked to Pikachu who was as ready and determined as he.
“Pikachu, you aim a Thunderbolt right at that vacuum. Then we’ll be able to fight this Battle fair and square!”
“Pika!”
Pikachu charged his cheeks, readying to attack while Kitsume was distracted. It was hard to aim while Kitsume darted around, but as fast as she was, Pikachu knew he was faster. With a battle cry, Pikachu unleashed a Thunderbolt into the air and watched it jut out in jagged angles on its way to Kitsume’s back. But, to everyone’s horror, it only made it about half way across the clearing before fizzling out. Everyone gasped.
“What’s wrong, Pikachu?” Ash asked worriedly.
Pikachu looked confused, if not a little scared. “Pika pi!”
“No!” Kitsume bemoaned. “It’s already losing its Electric Typing. It won’t be long now before it can’t use its Attacks at all.”
Ash and Pikachu looked to each other in terror. It was almost too late.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Ash said, trying to be encouraging as that worry settled on both their chests. “We’ll just have to try something else.
Luckily, at just that moment, a spark of inspiration hit Ash. He turned back to Pikachu with fresh hope. They weren’t out of the game yet!
“Pikachu, Quick Attack!”
Kitsume faltered as Pikachu came charging at her. “What? No! I can’t do anything with that!”
Ash laughed hardily. “I know! Now, Bayleef, hold her back with Vine Whip!”
Kitsume was busy trying to dodge Pikachu, who was flashing in and out of visibility as he kept up his Quick Attack. She didn’t even notice when Bayleef’s Vine Whip came out of the darkness and grabbed at her legs. They continued pulling backwards and before she knew it, she was face down on the ground.
“Great! Now, Phanpy, use a Take Down Attack on that vacuum!”
Phanpy, eager to be used, cried out happily and began barreling towards Kitsume, or rather, her vacuum. She smashed right into it, but it held strong.
Still, Kitsume was scared. So she let out a scream, and that was enough for the world to morph around her.
The other Zoroark began shifting, moving around so quickly and so stealthily that Ash couldn’t tell where one ended and one began anymore. But one thing was clear; they were fast approaching. “Phanpy, keep using Take Down. Everyone else, attack the other Zoroark!”
Suddenly, the clearing was flying with Pokémon, each trying to outrun and out-hit one another. But without any more Special Attacks lighting up the night, Ash couldn’t see much more than the dim light of the coals burning on Cyndaquil’s back. There were just too many Zoroark, and soon it looked like his Pokémon were lost in a cloud of them. All he could do was try his best to call out Attacks that could possibly help.
“Pikachu, confuse them with Agility! Noctowl, blow them back with Gust from above. No, don’t hit the others! Keep at it Phanpy!”
Eventually, it was all he could do to keep from getting hit himself. Pokémon were flying all over the clearing, and he was standing right in the middle. He didn’t even know if Bayleef had a hold on Kitsume anymore, or if Phanpy was having any luck with the vacuum. There were Pokémon cries and grunts and smashes of bodies impacting all around him, but he could hardly distinguish one from another. It was just a flurry of battle.
It knocked the wind out of him entirely when suddenly Pikachu’s body went flying limply through the air, colliding with his gut. Ash gasped and wheezed, but recovered as quickly as he could to see after his friend. Pikachu looked up at him with sleepy eyes, giving a dull, “Chaa.”
“I’m sorry, Pikachu. You’re too weak to battle right now.”
“Pi ka,” Pikachu said stubbornly, shaking his head.
“Leave it to everyone else. It’ll be fine.”
But it wasn’t fine.
Ash’s eyes were beginning to adjust better to the light, since there weren’t any more fiery or electrical Attacks to light up the night and ruin his corneas. And what he saw was unsettling.
His Pokémon were wearing thin. Noctowl was flying above to avoid getting hit, but hardly landing any Attacks. And it just got worse from there. Phanpy was reliably still going at Kitsume’s vacuum, but the Take Down Attacks were beginning to take their toll. Meanwhile, Kitsume wasn’t sitting motionless. She was firing various Special Attacks that Ash couldn’t recognize at Bayleef, who was standing there and taking them like a champion. But though she was still holding strong with her Vine Whip, she was looking battered and Ash didn’t know how much longer she could take it.
Ash grit his teeth as he looked at the scene. Pikachu crawled onto his shoulder and the two of them looked around helplessly. Their friends couldn’t hold on much longer. And it almost seemed like the Zoroark had doubled in numbers, far from slowing down.
In that moment, Ash realized that he had to admit defeat. He couldn’t do this to his Pokémon any longer. He reached for Totodile’s PokéBall, about to call him back when, suddenly, his savior arrived.
“Disable!”
All at once, a pink glow pierced the dark forest, shooting straight towards Kitsume, dodging all of Ash’s Pokémon. Ash looked to the source of the pink light and saw, in fanciful illumination, an old friend.
“Mantar!” Ash cried in relief.
As the Attack made contact with Kitsume, freezing her to the ground, suddenly the other Zoroark dissolved into little particles before vanishing into thin air.
“They were just an illusion,” Ash murmured.
“Finish the job, Ash,” Mantar said bluntly, his spoons pointed out towards Kitsume, whose face was stuck in an irritated frown.
“Right!” Ash looked to his Pokémon, who were scooping themselves off of the ground, brushing off their battered states. With a moment to catch their breaths, they all looked much better. “Cyndaquil, use Flamethrower on the vacuum, then, Totodile, cool it off with a Water Gun. Then you should be able to break it with one good Tackle Attack, Phanpy!”
The night lit up further when Cyndaquil readied itself for another Flamethrower Attack as Bayleef reined in her veins, to avoid them getting scorched in the process. As the tongue of flame ignited the vacuum on Kitsume’s back, Ash turned to Noctowl.
“Noctowl, scan the forest; find that sack!”
Noctowl gave off a soft coo and flew off into the trees, her night vision rendering her perfect for the job.
Then it was Totodile’s turn. The Water Gun Attack hit the vacuum with a sizzle, letting off some steam into the air. It also hardened the vacuum, leaving it solid, but brittle.
“Do your thing, Phanpy!”
With one last heave of energy, Phanpy ran for the vacuum and smashed into it. Upon impact, the vacuum shattered into a million pieces before being lost to the darkness.
Mantar took that moment to release his hold on Kitsume, putting his spoons down. The second she had her body back to herself, she let out an ear-splitting screech that echoed through the night.
“What did you do?!” she screamed to Ash, quickly running up to his face.
Pikachu quickly began sparking his cheeks and growling deep in the back of his throat. He was not about to let another Pokémon attack Ash.
“Oh, pipe down, pipsqueak. We both know you can’t do anything anymore.”
She reared back in an attempt to lunge towards the both of them, but before Ash could so much as shield his eyes, Mantar had her frozen again, holding a spoon out towards her as he walked over to Ash.
“Perhaps we should leave her here for a while,” he said.
Ash nodded, taking a deep breath. “Maybe.”
At just that moment, Noctowl came flapping back into the clearing, hooting victoriously. Hanging from her talons was Team Rocket’s sack, which she dropped right beside Ash. Ash quickly opened it up, and was relieved to see that the crown was indeed sitting in it, right on top of a pile of candy.
“Ooh, candy!” Ash exclaimed.
“Pi pikachu!” Pikachu concurred with eyes wide and glistening in excitement.
Mantar smacked himself on the forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Ash somehow tore himself away from looking at the candy and turned to Mantar. “How are you even here? Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the gate?”
“I used Substitute and left a dummy there. So I’ll be summoned if I’m needed. But I could see that you needed help here.”
“See?”
Mantar pointed to his brain. “See.”
“Oh.” After understanding dawned, Ash went back to the bag and picked up the crown. It was even more beautiful than the projection that Mantar had created showed. Even in the nearly non-existent light of the forest, it gleamed, seemingly with its own inner light. It seemed that the jewels in it were not jewels at all, but rather just colored spires on the crown. They just appeared gem-like because of their incandescence.
It was so mesmerizing that Ash couldn’t help but just stare at it for a few moments. It was only after Mantar cleared his throat that Ash pulled out of his reverie.
“I guess we should take care of this,” Ash said, gesturing to the crown.
“Yes, we have to get it to the king right away,” Mantar urgently reminded him. “It’s already getting to be too late.”
“How are we gonna get there?”
“Teleportation,” Mantar stated. “Return your companions.”
Ash returned his Pokémon one by one to their ‘Balls, promising to reward them all later for their hard work. Perhaps with candy.
“What now?”
“Stand away from the Zoroark and prepare yourself.”
Confused, Ash followed Mantar’s instructions, circling around behind Kitsume. In a moment, Mantar released his hold on her and she continued her lunge, but only reached air. And by the time she turned around, Ash, Mantar, and Pikachu were gone.
Kitsume growled. “The good guys always win.”
Mantar to the rescue! More than that, Ash finally found the crown. Now he just needs to deliver it to the king so that they can get Togepi back and still find a portal so that they can all make it home…Oh, no. How are they supposed to do all that in only one more installment? Find out next time in the Lost in Halloweenia finale!
#pokemon#pokeani#anipoke#pokemon fanfiction#pokemon fanfic#pokemon fic#ash ketchum#ash ketchum fanfiction#ash ketchum fanfic#ash ketchum fic#togepi#team rocket#pikachu#meowth
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The Tool For The Job An Ork short story
A small piece I thought would be a humorous example of Ork antics.
The thumping of artillery could be heard clearly in the distance. The Ork camp was far enough away to be safe from the reach of the guns, but only just. The wily brutes unwilling to be far away from the action. The Ork camp, or what passes for one amongst their kind, was a shoddy thing. A loose collection of scrap sheds and wilting tents. Their pattern was ever shifting as they were erected one day and cannibalised the next. Dirt roads were busy with traffic as scrap engines hauled mobs of Orks towards the next battlefield. On the edge of this mess was a two story structure making its home on the edge of the dusty wasteland. It was little more than an overgrown shack. Its walls were strips of an old tanker hull patched together and a roof of corrugated steel. Despite its slap dash appearance and rickety engineering, it was one of the most permanent structures of the camp. The shack was the main dispensary for grog. The main source of drink amongst their kind. To call it potable is generous, but the greenskins thrive on the caustic alcohol. Most Orks were smart enough to know that you don’t mess with the grog. And those dumb enough to start tearing down the walls got a belly full of bullets.
The shack was a riot of activity. The noise was deafening as each ork struggled to shout over the others. It was crowded as well, with every available space filled with a mismatched collection of furniture. In one corner a mek slouched on a dilapidated sofa nearly flattened from use. On the second floor, a freeboota captain is passed out, a stack of chipped shot glasses balanced precariously on a dainty coffee table made of fine wood and silver gilding. Gretchin ducked and weaved between the jam-packed tables. Grog sloshed onto their shoulders as they hauled overlaiden trays over their heads. There was little time for specific orders. The grots simply threw down their load on the driest tables and scooped up any loose teeth left out. If an ork wanted something fancy they could fight their way to the bar and pester someone in charge.
One group was having a particularly interesting conversation. With a table made from a train axel by the window, it was a good place for lunchtime chatter. Today they were having a particularly deep and meaningful discussion of orkish philosophy.
An ork in the colours of the speed Freaks drops his weapon on the table. A good three feet of pipe with heavy cogs welded on for the head.
“Dis is da only choppa ya need.” The speed freak declared, tapping his knuckles against his prized weapon for emphasis. “Ya zoomin along yeah? All ya need do is give em’ a wallop and pop goes der ‘eadz! Noth’n feels betta dan getting dem just roight.” The chair creaks dangerously as the red ork leans back. “Made dis beauty meself. Didn’t cost a single toof. Dats da best part, ya just need a stick wiff somethin ‘eavy and ya good to go!”
“Bah!” another ork chimes in. This one was from the Snakebite clan judging from the tattoos and piercings. He leaned back in his chair with his arms folded, obviously unimpressed. “It doesn’t even chop,” he complains. He sticks his arm out, gesticulating with an upturned palm. “How can it be a choppa if it don’t chop?!” With this the snakebite leans forward and slams his own weapon on the table, spilling grog everywhere. It was the stereotypical axe of the orkish culture. A short steel haft with a brick of iron hammered out into the rough shape of an axe head. “Dis is a choppa, good an proppa. Any lad with some know-how can get ya one wiff just a pocket o’teef. Dis will kill anythin. And if it don’t, ya haven’t hit it enough! Every Ork should ‘ave one uv deez. If ya don’t, you’ze aint a proppa Ork!” He finishes his statement slapping the table.
Such a statement would typically end in a brawl to defend their Orkish pride. But the group had known each other for awhile now and were familiar with their friend’s puritanical rants. Now his inflammatory statement merely elicited a chorus of tired groans and a few eye rolls.
“Woah now, we all love somethin good an’ choppy.” The next ork in the circle chimes in, soothing the cantankerous Snakebite’s ire. This one was a Blood Axe kommando, his arms and face smeared with tiger stripes of blue and purple grease. “If you go at one o’ dem beakies or spiky ‘umies wiff dat, you gunna be hackin away for a day and a ‘alf,” the Blood Axe laments, waving at the axe at the table. He scoots forward on his improvised stool, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner. “What you need is wunna deez.” The bloodaxe slides a broad machete out of a leather scabbard. A simple piece of hardened steel hammered out into a straight backed blade. “Don’tcha worry, it’s good an choppy. But it’s stabby too. Real good when face’n dem ‘ard humies. Da pointy end is wutchya want for finaglin’ past all dem ‘ard bitz.” The kommando wiggles the blade around in the air, pantomiming the act of sliding the blade between his invisible quary’s ribs. “It’s everyfin an Ork needs.”
The circle of Orks hummed and hawed. None of them wanted to agree. It was a good weapon. Lethal and flexible in its uses. But a kommando’s recommendation to quietly go for a kidney? Quite un-orkish. But none of them could really come up with a decent argument. There is one member of the table who didn’t seem fazed. He was full of confidence with his toothy smirk. He was a big Ork. His bulk exaggerated by the gaudy, yellow amour he was wearing. He rattles like a sack of coins from the obscene volume of stolen medals tacked onto him. All the hallmarks of a member of the Bad Moons clan.
He wags his finger at the table.
“I got a treat for ya,” he offers.
He reaches down beside him, coming back up with a bulky chainsword. It was short and bulky, with a chunky engine block and a fat guide bar with a gap toothed chain wrapped around it. A strip of scrap was folded over as a back plate and a spiked guard added to the grip. It was an oversized and unwieldy deathtrap of a contraption, all painted in garish yellows.
“Now dis,” he says while he hefted the weapon. “Is da killiest choppa a lad can ‘ave. It slices, it dices and all dat good stuff!” The Ork was hitting his stride now. Speaking with jovial enthusiasm and becoming more animated in his sales pitch. “Dis bad boy will chop anyfin! Humies, beakies, creepy crawlies, whateva! And da best part? It’s flashy too and every Ork haz gots to be flashy.” He pats his prized weapon likes its a prized fighting squig. “Worth every toof,” he finishes.
“Oh, zog off,” the blood axe cries out. “Does it look like we’z made o’ teef?”
“Wut? Not my problem you ain’t got da teef,” the bad moons Ork deflects casually.
“He’s right,” the speed freak chimes in. “If I got dat much teef, I’m gettin sum snazz for me bike.”
“Or a new squig,” mumbles the snakebite.
The bad moons ork was losing his patience now.
“If ya don’t wonna spend da teef, why don’t ya get a stick like that git?!” The yellow clad points an accusatory finger at the speed freak.
Like all ork communications the polite conversation was quickly turning combative. The piece was quickly falling apart and devolving into a shouting match. Angry orks began pointing fingers and denigrating each other’s choices in weaponry. The snakebite accused the blood axe of being un-orkish and the bad moon called the snakebite a backwards simpleton. Amongst all this the evil suns ork was of the opinion that they were all self important snobs.
As their endless bickering dragged on a new ork entered the shack. A giant shadow filled the doorway. Too large for the crooked frame the colossal ork had to enter sideways, shuffling his bulk past the threshold. Once through the doorway one could truly appreciate his size. It was a monster of an ork, easily a head taller than any other ork in there and twice as wide. This was an ork nob, the biggest and meanest of the orks. The floorboards creaked and faintly trembled underneath the tread of his boots. With armour bedecked in chequered black it was plain to see that he was a member of the Goff clan.
Unfortunately for the squabbling orks the big goff heard their murderous debate. A discussion pertaining to combat? Of course a goff’s opinion was needed. He lumbered over to the table. Too busy arguing, the gang of ork didn’t noticed the mountain of muscle towering over them.
“You’z all wrong, ya gits,” the big ork growls.
The group all turn to look up at the giant brute. The black clad nob shouldered his way to the table. Leaning over, he drops his hand on the scuffed tabletop. More drinks are toppled over from the weight of the massive paw. It was a calloused mitt covered in a decades worth of scars, the smallest finger missing a joint.
"Dis. Is da killiest ting out dere." He spoke with a confidence born of experience. “Ya put anyfin’ in dis hand, it’s da killiest fing out dere’. No matter wot.” He looks around the table as his orkish pride infected the others. “It can be ‘ard. It can be choppy. It can be stabby or just proppa nasty! It’s all killy cuz you’z an Ork!”
The table cheered at the oratory skills of the orkish noble. He leans in, in a conspiratorial manner.
“Don’t you worry bout da teef. Cuz dis’ll get ya all da teef you need,” The Ork nob says while pointing at his fist. “Yeah just need a good buddy and…”
He whirls around and plants his meaty fist square in the bad moons’ face. Bits of ork ivory fly through the air as the yellow Ork tumbles to the ground. The big Goff scoops up the Ork teeth scattered across the table.
“Drinks for dese good lads. I’m payin!” He holds up the first full of teeth, yelling back to the bar. The tables cheers again, even the bad moons boy joins in groggily, raising a fist from the floor.
Another long night filled with grog.
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What was the scariest moment you’ve had in public?
Tray takes a chug of his now refreshed mug and gives a satisfied sigh as he puts his pipe to his lips to continue regaling his audience with stories of his terrified catte life.
“Meow, as scared as I was in teh prior story I just told (from @dragonwitch-ffxiv ‘s ask of the same question!) dis one was a little more private, so I won’t be namein’ names, but if ye know who ye are….ye know who ye are. Meow den.” The smuggler gave a dramatic pause to fill his lungs with the most wonderful of burning plants; his chest expanded as he greedily sucked up the smoke from his pipe. He held the swirling vapors deep inside his lungs for a few moments, feeling the sweet burn before exhaling. Plumes and tendrils of smoke rose up, dancing on the air as if they were weaving a vision in conjunction with his words.
“So, I know dis might come as a shock to ye lot dat don’t know meh well, but I ain’t always been dis cool, collected, debonair gentleman dressed in all black dat ye seein’ meow. Ooooh no. One upon a time, I had a real bad habit of actin’ devil-may-care. An’ worse then that, bein’ a real proper party animal an’, well, like meh chest tattoo says: ‘Fuckboy’.” He chuckled as a grin creased his lips.
“For awhile dat attitude was…cute. I guess. Also got meh into a shit-ton of trouble. Trouble dat followed meh. See, I got mehself in teh cross-hairs of dis gang of Monetarists and Garlean Sympathizers dat didn’t like meh much. An’ when they found out I was still alive after they thought I was sunk and drowned, they was nooot happy. An’ one of dem agents slipped up to one of meh new bosses an’ whispered sweet little nothin’s into their ear ‘bout what a bad boy I’d been an’ how dey would make meh yakuza’s life hell if they didn’t just hand meh over.”
“Well, ye can imagine dat this boss wasn’t too thrilled ‘bout dat at alllll. So she comes back an’…” He pauses. “Shit, slipped. Anyhow, meh female boss, she comes back an’ confronts meh ‘bout it right? In public. An’ by public, I mean her’s and mine ‘Ultimate Boss’…as well as dis asshole she calls her ‘Wolf’. From what I know an’ seen of dis Wolf, we ain’t never gonna be friends. Meow, ‘Wolfy’ don’t work for us, but he seems like teh sorta person dat would take a whole lotta pleasure in seein’ meh die an’ when meh Overall Boss says he’s tempted to kill meh an’ just hand meh corpse over, Wolf starts encouragin’ dis idea. An’ course meh other boss ain’t sayin’ shit for meh cause ye don’t fuck with ‘Teh Big Boss’. So here I am starin’ at meh Big Bosss, lookin’ at a man dat will slice off a digit for the slightest breach of protocol, who be tellin’ meh he’’ll hack off meh head less I can prove mehself worth more alive den dead.”
“Meow, I don’t mean to be dramatic, but I damn near pissed mehself. I did! I’ll admit it! I was scared shitless of meh Big Boss in dat moment. Like hell! Any buzz I had from teh moko died like that!”
He snaps his fingers.
“I recall swallowin’ and realizin’ with teh Wolf blockin’ teh door, and meh bein’ in very easy stabbin’ range of me Big Boss, I had to talk. An’ not teh normal ramblin’ shit I do sometimes like when I’m tellin’ a story. I mean -really- talk. For teh first time in years, I was sober, I was alert, an’ I was swearin’ to Thal I’d be a good kitty forever if I didn’t lose meh head dat night. Last part was a lie but if dat’s teh sin dat sends meh to hell, Thal gotta rework their scales.”
“Anyhow, I talked for hours, providin’ plans, an’ proovin’ to meh Big Boss dat I was worth keepin’ alive. An’ teh whole time I just feel dis Wolf starrin’ at meh, clearly wantin’ to step on meh. Again, not a fan. But in teh end, I managed to convince meh Big Boss NOT to take meh head an’ dat I was worth any hassle. Everyone left. An’ I’ll tell ye, dat was teh first night in years dat I went outside, found a quiet place, and just collapsed; shakin’ in anxiety. For -hours- I had thought I was a dead man. I honestly though meh number was up an’ I’m sorry, I wanna die in an epic manner, not in some boardroom with no wind in meh hair. I was so shaken from it, well, honestly it sobered meh up. Alot. I changed meh ways real quick after dat event an’ honestly…it’s probably for teh better overall but..I didn’t enjoy goin’ through it.”
He paused.
“Meow, dis ain’t to mean dis meh scariest moment over all. But ye asked for in public an’ dese were recent so figured I’d weave a tale for ye. So, if ye liked meh story, toss a coin in meh pitcher, cause meh tankard is empty!”
He beamed and then blinked.
“Oi, where ye lot goin’? Dat was clever as hell! Don’t ye roll yer eyes at meh!”
((And thank you for the ask! XD This was the second of the same ask I received earlier today. I got a little carried away but loved it. Mention of @miqojak and @ketsuchikotetsu ‘s char’s in this story. As well as my FC leader Kublai, but they don’t have a tumblr lol. This was a summary of an actual session with these three awesome peeps. And yes, honestly I was really thinking Tray might not survive the ordeal at the time, so props for Kublai for making my trash catte sober up some. XD ))
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A Debt Owed, A Debt Paid
It had all started with a chill down her spine and a feeling of overwhelming dread, like death was peeling away at her. She’d nearly thrown up, right then and there, which wouldn’t have been the worst part of the night by far. There was a point that night were she was withering from the inside out as magic was sucked from her, those very forces that bound her together ripping away to see her hemorrhaging blood everywhere.
At that point, she hadn’t even known why it was happening. She’d only known that she’d seen malevolent forces on the Other Side, spiraling around their safe house in Elwynn. The Harbinger had been there too and that terrified her more than anything. That desperate feeling that she had to do something surged through her as the body of Eilithe had been drug from the house, Xavier pushing himself to the limit to contain the madness within.
Once, twice, three times Reveria tried to pull the soul back into Eilithe’s body only to find it harder and harder to do each time. The druid was panicking, Eilithe’s soul had never been so hard to guide. It had to be the malevolence around them, it had to be those spirits coming for her that were making it so hard. In her desperation, she’d called on the only one she thought could remedy the situation. Cut palms, brands traced in blood on the dirt and upon her face, the pleas for help sounding out in Zandali.
“Mama, hear me. Your vessel needs you. I invoke the promise you made and bound to me. Mama, I have nothing else.... I have no offering of payment. My debt is yours. Please... Answer me Mama.”
Ghostly, spidery limbs had torn from Reveria’s mouth, searching for purchase anywhere they could as a flood of widow spiders poured from the druid’s mouth. Those spiders formed together, weaving the shape of a trollish woman in a tattered ballroom gown. Eight spidery limbs jutted from her back as she looked down on the nearly crying Reveria.
“What ya doin’ Zin’ulwembu? Can’t ya see she be castin’? Ya only hurtin’ her more, fightin’ her like ya is.” There’d been many more words, Reveria had begged Mama Zarenyen to help Eilithe and the loa had, in no small fashion. The insanity had been quelled, though Mama’s actions may have see An’Set hurt, it was still a small price to pay to end the insanity within the safe house. However...
Mama had come from the safe house and over to Reveria, cupping her chin in her hand. Her gaze had held a smile but there was the undeniable undercurrent of a threat. “I be comin’ tah collect ya debt. Ya best not hold out on Mama, Zin’ulwembu.” Those words haunted the druid, even as An’Set asked about them later. She’d brushed it off, offering an explanation. He’d chided her, and all she had to offer in return was “What else was I suppose to do? You were getting your ass beat.” He hadn’t been able to argue that.
That night had ended in a much better place, Reveria and An’Set had snorted some of their favorite drugs, ran around acting like fools yelling at the top of their lungs, yodeling, bothering their friends, and more. The night didn’t truly even end there, as An’Set carried Reveria off into the teahouse, slung over his shoulder, where they rutted away the rest of the night and into the morning in drug fueled ecstasy, ringing in their new year in style. The thought of the debt that was owed, slipping from her mind in those moments.
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A day or two passed, Reveria had managed to avoid anything too straining or stressful. Zelphryin had returned, which had been less than pleasing to her but she’d managed to coax him into taking her and Eilithe to the spa. They’d yet to go but she was in no particular rush. This night she sat up, alone, in the great room, sipping on bourbon as a fire crackled and flickered in the fireplace. An’Set was in bed, as were all her children.
She was lost in thought, right up until the tapping of the glass of the floor to ceiling windows sounded out. So lost in thought was she that she nearly jumped out of her skin. She managed not to spill her drink, setting it down quickly as she looked with wide eyes at the window. Standing there, with that telltale grin of hers, was Mama Zarenyen, beckoning Reveria with a lone finger.
There was a sense of relief, yet also a pang of anxiety as Reveria’s inky hues took the loa in. She stood, slowly, the long shirt of An’Set’s that she wore, flapping about her thighs as she walked to the rear door. There was no doubt in her mind that Mama would have been inside, were it not for the wards Eilithe had helped the druid place. Outside, Mama turned and began slowly walking through the large backyard as Reveria joined her.
A grin spread Mama’s lips, her short tusks popping out just a bit as her spidery limbs draped about Reveria’s figure. "Zin’ulwembu... Walk wit me...We be havin’ tings ta discuss.” The druid’s arms crossed against her chest as she walked along, not as though she had much of a choice in the matter. “What is it you want, Mama?” The loa chuckled, low and dark, canting her head as she slowly led Reveria along. “Ya sound so suspicious, Zin’ulwembu. Mama can’ jus’ want ta talk at ya? Spend some time wit her vessel?”
Reveria narrowed her eyes and looked over to the woman, peering at her searchingly. She seriously doubted that Mama was just here to talk, the fresh debt springing to the forefront of her mind. Still, she was willing to try and play along. “Well, I just didn’t think you were here for that. What did you want to talk about?” Mama wiggled her fingers at Rysh’Vhek as the massive spider skittered from the jungle. “Ya chil’ren be lookin’ strong an’ hel’ty. Ya man, he be a surprise. Love be a surprise in general doh, so dat ain’ bein’ all dat strange. Ya life be prosperin’. I been seein’ ya wit ya trainin’ too. Zulfie got ya becomin’ quite dah little witchdoctah don’ she?”
There wasn’t much for Reveria to say to all of that. It was clear that Mama had been watching her life of late, which hardly surprised Reveria. “Eilithe is a good shan’do. She teaches me well. It was rocky there for a bit but I stopped trying to do things on my own. The harder things at least.” Their path led them into the jungle, the scent and smells of it something Reveria recognized from a time long passed. The jungle slowly became strewn in the webs of large spiders, the telltale cocoons and husks of their prey laying about or hanging from trees.
All the while the pair had talked until they arrived at the center, a circular wall of webbing that rose up to the ceiling of the jungle, with a circular altar of bones and stone laying in the middle. She’d been here before, long ago to strike a bargain that she’d regretted. Tonight though, there was no sense of ominous foreboding, just a loa that was acting almost motherly to the druid. Once they stood before the altar, Mama released Reveria and began to walk in a slow circle about her. “So now we come tah tha real biz’ness... Ya be owin’ Mama a debt zin’ulwembu. An’ Mama been tinkin’ real hard on what dat gonna be paid wit.” Reveria’s brow furrowed but she remained silent, ready to speak up if it had anything to do with her family. Both fortunately and unfortunately for her, it did not.
“Ya be my vessel but ya don’t know nut’ting bout takin’ dat form, do ya? Ya had dreams of it doh, I know ya have. Mama seen dem dreams cuz she caused dem dreams. Ya dreamed ya was dah spidah... ya dreamed ya was dah eighth eye... it been comin’ for a long time. ya been feelin’ dat urge, dat pressure, when ya go tah shift. When ya tink ya shiftin’ tah dat lovely saber... Dere be a part ah ya dat tinkin’... In dah back ah ya mind... Dat da saber ain’ right no more.” She paused in her circling to lay a hand on Reveria’s left shoulder.
“Dah time has come. Ya debt gonna be startin’ ya transformation intah Mama’s vessel more fully. I be takin’ ya saber. It gon take time but ya be findin’ soon dat ya gonna be stuck in dah middle, wit out a form like dat... until ya be masterin’ dah spidah. Dere gon come a day... Dere gon be times... Mama gon take ya vessel and use it for herself. Dat be dah price.” Reveria looked on, all but helpless as she processed the desire of Mama. She was about to become an actual vessel. She would lose control. Who knew what Mama would do? The thought terrified her,
“Fine... Fine...” All she could do was keep telling herself it had been worth it, that her sister’s life and soul had been worth it. That her husband’s life had been worth it. “Dat’s alright, Zin’ulwembu. Every’ting gon be okay~” The way she said it, the way her voice carried a veiled malicious tone, Reveria had a sense of dread in her stomach but this was the price and she would pay it. Mama’s hand began to feel hot, so hot... Like a red hot cattle prod, leaving Reveria screaming in the jungle as a matching brand, another widow, formed on her left shoulder. The skin sizzled and cooked, the druid howled, and Mama Zarenyen laughed.
“Dere, dere Zin’ulwembu... Mama takin’ care ah you like she always done...”
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Tagging @eilitheduskbringer @kurel-andiel @velerodra-valesinger @theshalthera @xavier-sunshadow
Art by @kazeco1986
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“Sans, take your brother and go to sleep…need to put the croceries away…”
“uh, pops?”
Gaster handed Sans a bag of what was left of the groceries, exhausted. There HAD been more, but Papyrus had decided to throw most of them into Hotland’s boiling magma as a “sacrifice” to the “volcanic gods of Mt. Ebott.”
“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”
“Sigh…”
He wasn’t even supposed to leave the lab…
“dad you’re putting paps in the fridge.”
“KI-ET SNAS! Dis where he keep da’ milk…”
“you know babies drink more than-DAD!”
CA-THUNK!
“ME HEE HEE! I OUGHT IT SNAS!” cried the baby bones, his voice muffled from inside the fridge. “I OWES IT CAUSE’ DA’ CONTAINER FEEL LIKE A IZARD!”
SCRITCH, SCRITCH, SCRITCH!
“CAN YOU HEAR THE IZARD BIG BUTHER?”
FUMP!
“HEY!”
“sorry bro, gotta put these…three bisicles, away. also, don’t scratch on the milk carton, it’s bad for your fingers.”
“Dis MY milk and I does what I wants with it!”
“it’s everyone’s milk, not just yours.”
“NO!” Papyrus spread his little arms and legs out to block Sans from the fridge. “Dis MY milk, go sweep!”
“i’d love to go to sleep, but first i need to put these away.”
“Well dat’s very un-for-tun-ate for you big Buther, cause’ I don’t plan on moving out the way. I’ve decided dat dis gonna be my new room. Is close to da’ food AND the milk. Very efficient.”
“oh yeah? and what about your toys? where are you gonna put all your toys pappy? that’s an awfully small fridge…”
“Well I’m an awfully small baby, besides...” Papyrus reached down and pulled out a block of cheese.
“are you kidding me with this?”
“We both know dis all I need right here.”
“what about air?” asked Sans, deciding to stuff the bisicles into the freezer. “do you need ai-ewww, papyrus what is that?!” he pointed towards a bowl of…something, not caring whether or not his brother could actually see it. He couldn’t hazard a guess as to what he was looking at, but there were a few clues that told him the baby bones was probably responsible; one of them being that he recognized the bowl as one he’d use for cereal, which meant this thing was DEFINITELY homemade.
“Daz baby’s food. Not for you. Is like cookie dough, cept’ is not made of cookies.”
“it’s got meat in it!”
“Dat’s cause’ is not made of cookies…is made of meat. Meat and milk. Lots of nutrients in there. Lossa proteins and normal teens and calcium and-”
“stop. stop right there. what do you mean ‘normal teens?”
“Sometimes is hard to find new puppies.”
“new pup-is this more of your puptart crap?! i asked you not to do that!”
Those poor dogs…
“Is not puptarts stink head! Puptarts go in the brave little toaster! Dis Puppydough! Is like cookie dough cept’-”
“except it’s made of meat, i got it! it’s gross papyrus!”
“YOU NOT EVEN TRY IT!” shouted the baby bones accusingly. He quickly returned to his smile. “And you’s not GONNA try it…cause’ is mine. My ice cream. Not for you, sad, but true. You can has the Dog Salad...”
“are you seriously trying to make me jealous of this…?”
“Try not to get any of yo’ jelly in my noms Snas. I prefer my eats to taste like victory, not your depression-”
“ALPHYS, PAPYRUS IS BEING AN ASSHOLE!”
“PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS AN ASSHOLE.”
“I’M NOT TALKING TO YOU DAD!”
“You tell Babybop! You tell Babybop and Daddy and even Dirt-Butt, they all gonna side with the baby! They see mah dough and they probly think, ‘Wowie! Dat baby so talented and smart! Only a genius baby would think of mixing milk and meats! If only I had been nicer to sweet widdle Papyrus, then maybe I could have some of dat Puppydough…”
“*pfft!* is that how you think that’s gonna go?” Sans chuckled despite his disgust. “iiii think you might end up a bit disappointed then pappy. i personally wouldn’t touch that to throw it away.”
“You won’t touch it cause’ I told you not to.”
“heh heh is that right?”
SHINK!
“WOOOAHH! where’d you get that?!”
Papyrus narrowed his eyes at his brother whilst clutching a switchblade in his tiny fist. “Black babies always armed…case whitey wants to rumble. Nyeh? NO! NO DIS MINE! IS MIIIINNNE! MIIIIAAAHHHHH!!! NYEHHHHHHHHAAAA! NYEH-HAAAAAHHHHHH!!”
“sorry bro, but you’re the LAST person who needs a switchblade-”
THUMP THUMP THUMP!
“heeey, now you know better than that-”
“NYEHHHHHHHH-HAAAAAAAAA!!!”
Wailing loudly, Papyrus kicked the inside of the fridge with even more ferocity than before while his brother tried to keep things from tumbling out onto the floor.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP, THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!
“HEY, WHO’S KICKING THINGS UP THERE?” shouted Gaster angrily.
“HE TAKE MY DOG-OPENERRRR!!! NYEHAAAAAHHHHH!!!”
“SANS WILL YOU KEEP YOUR BROTHER QUIET? YOU HAVE ONE JOB!”
“papyrus stop kicking the fridge…also get out of the fridge.”
“I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMO-HORRRRRE!!”
“yeah, sure you don’t.”
Drama king.
I can’t wait till he grows out of this.
…
…
God I hope he grows out of this.
“I JUST WANTS TO EAT HEALTHY SO I DOESN’T GET FAT LIKE YOU-HOOOO! JUST CAUSE’ YOU CAN’T FIND HAPPINESS DOESN’T MEAN YOU GOTS TO TAKE DA’ BABY’S!”
“lemme know when you’re done, kay’? imma go throw this away or something.”
“YOU CUSH MAH DREEEAMSSS!”
Walking towards the elevator, Sans paused only slightly to consider maybe throwing the blade into the lava pits of Hotland, but in the end, he decided against it walking into the Nursery instead. Papyrus didn’t need a knife, he was dangerous enough as is, which could only mean he had taken it from someone else…someone who ALSO didn’t need a weapon, seeing as everyone used magic.
Monsters with weapons are always bad news. Papyrus must have run into a really bad person who planned to use this knife as a surprise attack against someone. That’s all these things are good for down here; fighting dirty.
Asgore really needs to put some kind of fence around the Dump or ban it or something. That’s exactly where dangerous garbage like this is coming from, right there.
But that’s not to say it wasn’t useful to people like Sans.
My ATK is so low, I’m pretty much the only person who needs something like this to protect himself. My bro can’t be there for me ALL the time, and I wouldn’t want him to be. The older he gets, the more responsibilities he’ll have to take on, and eventually I’ll become a burden. He doesn’t mind protecting me now; he’s a baby, he has nothing better to do, but one day…
Sans took a few swings with the knife.
“Nyeh? Snas what chu-no. Nuh-uh. Give me that. That’s not a toy.”
“p-papyrus..?”
Using his wingdings, Papyrus took the opportunity to take the blade out of his surprised sibling’s hand.
“hey i need that!”
“Why? You want to end up a little punk like me?”
“huh?”
“Well I’s very flattered big Buther, but the answer is ‘no.’ Nobody like a copycat ya’ know? Also, how you gonna weave baby crying in da’ fridgergator?! You wants me to catch a cold? You weave the door open too! I could’ve fallen out and broke my widdle head-”
“papyrus-”
“It’d be like Humpy Dumpy.”
“bro-”
“Dead baby. Egg yolk erywhere.”
“would you listen to me?! i need that knife!”
“What for?”
“for protection! i only have 1 atk…”
“You’re not gonna need any protection other than me until you’re eighteen…and given your personality that too is a shot in the dark.”
“what does that even mean?!”
“Means ‘no.”
“DAD, PAPYRUS HAS A KNIFE!”
“SHOCKING.”
Sans glared down the hallway.
Alright…
“ALPHYSSS, PAPYRUS HAS A KNIFE!”
“SWING WITH RESPONSIBILITY PAPYRUS,” replied the young girl from another room.
“SERIOUSLY ALPHYS? DOES NO ONE CARE THAT THIS BABY HAS A KNIFE? HE’S USING IT TO KILL PUPPIES!”
“Nyeh? What chu talkin’ bout’ Snas? I not make dat Puppydough.”
“you already admitted that you made it papyrus!”
“No I didn’t! Is made by puppies…like the spidie doughnuts. Dat’s where I gots da’ idea! Is made by puppies, OF puppies…”
“it’s gross!”
Not that I believe you.
“IT HELPS DA’ ECONOMY! You know how diffi-cult it be to be a baby in Snowdin?”
“you’re not SUPPOSED to be in snowdin-”
“The snow be deep as hell big Buther, and the doody dogs leave their doodies erywhere. They gets covered by the snow and then cute babies such as myselves steps in them.” Papyrus lifted up his foot. “Today I’s wearing the baby booties cause’ I go shopping wit Daddy. No shirt, no shoe, no service Snas; but OTHER times I’s in my onesie and I get the brown feets-”
“then wear boots all the time or don’t go out. killing these dogs is not the answer baby bro, It’s wrong.”
“But it IS the answer Snas! Dis not the only bad thing they do! Sometimes they pick up the baby.”
“…what?”
“They bite down on baby’s skull and they picks me up! They picks me up and they run around and I’s like, ‘PUT ME DOWN DOODY DOG! I’S TRYING TO GET TO DIRT-BUTT!’ and they’re all like, ‘WOOF!’ and I’s like, ‘YOU STUPID DOG!’ and they’re like, ‘WOOF!’ and I go ‘IMMA KILL YOOOOOU!”
“…”
“…There dis one dog dat be useful dough. You remember Long-Neck? He carry the baby waaaay up high; the big peoples be using him to get crystals from the ceiling.”
“wait, magic crystals? Are you talking about magic crystals?”
That wasn’t good. As desperate as the Underground currently was for power, Sans didn’t want the false stars on the mountain’s ceiling to disappear. It made him sad to think of all the wishes people had made on them over the years being turned to powder along with them.
All of HIS wishes…
“Yep! Is got me thinkin’ too…I could use a high dog like dis to get to the sparklies you wants. I could do that Snas. If dat stink ceiling weren’t in the way, I could reach those sparklies and maybe even visit the moon…”
“my wishes…”
“…?” Papyrus looked up at his brother in confusion and then smiled, realizing what he meant. “Don’t worry big Buther. I got chu. I tell the peoples collecting that if they don’t weave the fake sparklies in Waterfall alone, THEY gonna be my ice cream. Yo’ wishes be safe like the womb.”
“uh…thanks.”
I think.
His baby-isims are so creepy sometimes…
…
I wonder though…
“hey bro, do you have any wishes?”
“Nyeh? Wishes? Nyeh heh hee hee hee! What I gonna wish for? I’s just a baby! A baby lacks petty big people ambitions and obsessions. All we needs is some toys, love, a cwib, and lossa nutrients.”
“c’mon pap, there’s gotta be something that you really really want and can’t get on your own. everyone’s gotta wish like that, I know you’re no different.”
“No different hm? Kay’ then, I wish you’d stop asking me so many personal kestions.”
“personal questions?”
“Mm.” Papyrus nodded. “I wish you’d stop asking me personal kestions and stop playing with sharp objects.” And with that, the infant crawled out of the room, all the while making a mental note not to pull weapons out in front of his silly brother again.
Sorry about the wait...and the short fic; like I said on AO3 (and not on tumbler like I should have) I’ve decided to focus more on Fonttale 3 since every time I make these it takes a month and then I wind up with no time for the main fic. So far with this method I’ve managed to finish another chapter and a half, so things are going well.
As compensation for taking so long, here is a special tip (though hardcore Undertale fans may already know about it), messing with the SAVE file like you would to find Gaster in the main game will also allow you to find Papyrus’s Puppydough...and if you screw up the Horror Font has a few things to say unlike everyone else who simply says “Error”
Papyrus’s Fight Error: THIS IS AN ERROR MESSAGE. REALLY!!!
Papyrus’s Puzzle Error: Error, Pepibs. (probably a rendition of bepis, an inside joke Toby inserted into Undertale usually meant only for hackers to see...though they too might never guess it’s a synonym of “penis.” Toby uses it in place of curse words sometimes. Basically, Papyrus is saying “Error, fuck.” in a quiet voice which I personally find hilarious as it completely breaks character).
Papyrus’s Troll (remember the good ol’ days when Undyne was looking to murder you and Papyrus took it upon himself to work together with Flowey to screw you over? Back when he’d call you and ask you what you were wearing and then no matter WHAT you said, WHAT you changed into afterwards, or HOW many times you reset, he’d ALWAYS “accidentally” give her the right info? Pissed you off too didn’t it? Well guess what? There is in fact a way to give them BOTH the finger. If you recall, Undyne isn’t a fan of Temmie Village, she even tells you where it is so you can avoid it. That being said, she doesn’t know shit about Temmie armor including what it looks like. You know where I’m going with this right? Hack your file and pop that shit on before you get that call to effectively piss off Team Cute Truth and get this message):
HELLO! THIS IS PAPYRUS!!! HOW DID I GET THIS NUMBER...? IT WAS EASY!!! I JUST DIALED EVERY NUMBER SEQUENTIALLY UNTIL I GOT YOURS!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!! SO...WHAT ARE YOU WEARING...? I’M...ASKING FOR A FRIEND.
Yes No
(Picked yes)
SO YOU ARE WEARING A BEPIS.... GOT IT!!! WINK WINK!!! HAVE A NICE DAY!
Obviously this immature call was Flowey’s idea, which is understandable since he’s a child AND the one doing all the legwork just to tell Papyrus you’re wearing something Undyne will never recognize. Nothing like revenge colder and more disgusting than the spaghetti your “friend” left outside in Snowdin, am I right?
Papyrus’s Toolshed (If you get into Papyrus's toolshed by manipulating save data, reading the note will result in this message): WHAT!? THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.
Mortal Enemy Request ( As this comes right after Napstablook's friend request in Hotland, it may have happened as a result of rejecting the request. In the final game, the friend request rejects itself regardless of your choice and don’t worry, the request isn’t from Papyrus, lol):
METTATON has sent you a Mortal Enemy request.
Congratulations! You are now Mortal Enemies with Mettaton.
COOLSKELETON95 has posted a comment on this change.
CONGRATULATIONS, YOU TWO! WISH YOU A LONG AND HORRIBLE RIVALRY.
You rejected the request.
METTATON has sent you an invitation to "Die."
RSVP? Respond Ignore
Another small apologetic gift you may find interesting... You remember the guy from room 272 right? The inaccessible room? It’s also known as room_water_redacted if you don’t recognize the name. When you get closer to this guy he fades, and, when spoken to, says "* [redacted]" in Wingdings. This NPC represents one of two theorized sprites for Gaster and you can see why...it looks like his face has melted off though his body looks fine. "Premonition" plays in this room too by the way. If you leave through the south exit, you enter the sound test room, room 270. One of the four playable songs in this room IS "Gaster's Theme" and when the protagonist attempts to exit the room, the game crashes (big surprise). If the protagonist chooses to play "Gaster's Theme," they can select no other song.
Why am I mentioning this?
Well, among the lines for the garbage dump and Napstablook's house, there are a few lines implying there was a horse stable somewhere in Waterfall and that’s not all, look at the message.
* (It's a horse stable.)
* (Do you want to go& inside?)
Yes No
* (You jostle the door.)
* (It's locked.)
* (Suddenly, from inside the [redacted], you hear a
Interestingly, we're hearing a noise from inside what is supposedly the horse stable, but for some reason, whatever it was is replaced with "[redacted]", and whatever it is that we hear at the end is just outright removed (I’d say that it’s weird that the stable ITSELF was removed, but with no disrespect to Toby mind you, it looks so bad when it appears in-game you’d half-expect the video about it to be trolling). This dialogue seems to be triggered by a trash can that appears in Napstablook's courtyard for some reason. Inspecting it if flag 92 (one of the unused ones) is less than 3 will cause the same figure from room 272 to appear inside the stable, and say “*x”
In Wingdings.
To be frank and funny, it’s possible Gaster somehow got himself locked in a horse stable and ended up cursing when we showed up holding the key to his escape. Granted, “*X” isn’t a curse word, but if you recall, Toby doesn’t curse in his games and Gaster, like Papyrus, doesn’t put an * next to his sentences, which is something even Alphys did in her notes found in the True Lab. It’s a looong stretch seeing as it’s only two symbols, but I still like to think he’s keyboard mashing the word “shit.” XD
I hope this made up for the lost time and the time I’ll be taking to focus on Fonttale 3. Damn, I started this post at 12:00 something and now it’s 2:48 pm...see this? This is that bullshit I’m talking about.
Can’t shut the fuck up when I write...
#Fonttale#fonttale au#Undertale#Undertale au#Sans#Papyrus#kid sans#baby Papyrus#gaster#alphys#puppydough#horror fonts#fonts#undertale fanfiction
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Green It Is
***Edit: Okay, for some reason, my original post was deleted?? So...I’m posting it again aldkfjadslkfj >.<;;
A/N: Lotor x Reader Valentine’s Day Fic >:3 it’s still Valentine’s Day if I never went to sleep right?? a;lfjas;lfkj
Thank you so, so much @starfaring-princelotor for letting me use your little stars. I’ve fallen absolutely and completely in love with Atlas and Celeste, and they are blessed and adorable. They are canon to me TT^TT Also, I couldn’t get this idea out of my head after you told us you deliver flowers for Valentine’s Day alskdjfalsflkfj
Enjoy y’all~!
Warnings: None
“Papa, up!”
With her arms outstretched, Celeste stood on her tiptoes as she implored Papatron to put her on his shoulders.
Papatron obliged of course.
“Come here, little one,” Lotor grinned, lifting his daughter over his head. The moment she was settled on her perch, she papped his head repeatedly with the single green rose that was held firm in her grasp.
Meanwhile, Atlas had taken it dutifully upon himself to carry the last of the flowers in his arms, his little legs moving fast to keep up the pace he had insisted upon setting.
“Evwy—evwyone needs a fwower so dey can smile. Huwwy up!”
“Aye, aye Captain Atlas!” you saluted him with a firm nod, letting out a soft laugh as you followed close behind.
Delivering flowers for Valentine’s Day. Your husband had brought up the idea a few weeks ago—to learn more about your culture of course, but also as a way to start something new together as a family. You had agreed without a second thought on the matter. It was a positively wonderful idea, to start a tradition so wholesome and heartwarming, to spread love and happiness to people who might need it, especially on a day like today.
Your two little stars had also agreed enthusiastically. Though, you were pretty sure most of their excitement stemmed from being able to pick and snip the pretty flowers from your gardens. You were always finding flowers here and there as a “surprise for Mama and Papa.”
Your heart fluttered at the thought. Those little gremlins were too sweet for their own good. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Here we are,” Lotor announced.
Celeste chose to remain on her throne as you approached the last house on the block, but Atlas quickly ran up to the door to knock. An elderly woman answered, a cat mewing and weaving in between and around her ankles.
“Happy Vawentime’s Day!” Atlas exclaimed, holding the flowers in his hand out for her to take.
“Oh my!” her eyes lit up, “This is a lovely surprise. Thank you very much,” she said, accepting the flowers and giving them a good sniff. “They smell wonderful!”
Atlas nodded absently, his eyes fixated on the little black cat staring back up at him.
“You can pet her if you’d like,” the woman offered with a kind smile, “Her name is Nova.”
“Like a star,” Atlas gasped, “I know dat!”
“You’re very smart.”
“Gwanny Dayak teashes me. And Papa and Mama. All of dem are reawwy smart!”
You stifled a giggle in your hand, watching as your son crouched down to pet the curious creature. After a nuzzle or two from the cat, Atlas decided he was satisfied and stood back up to run over to you.
“Fank you! Bye-bye!”
“Thank you, and Happy Valentine’s Day,” she replied, giving one last smile and wave to you all before closing her door.
“Papa!” Celeste burst out as soon as the door closed, frantically waving her hands about.
Lotor winced as the rose in her hand whacked him in his eye. “Yes, little one?”
“We fowgot!”
“We forgot what, darling?”
“We—da fwower! Papa we fowgot to give dat nice wady da gween fwower!” she held out the rose in front of her and shook it.
“Ah,” the corner of his lips turned up in a gentle half smile as his eyes flicked over toward you, “Actually Celeste, that one is for Mama. Would you like to give it to her?”
Atlas’s eyes went big, “Me too! I wanna give Mama fwowers too!”
“Alright, alright—both of you, then,” Lotor chuckled, lifting Celeste up over his head and lowering her to the ground, “Aaaand, down you go little one.”
Atlas bounced over to join his sister in holding the flower’s stem.
“Mama, cwose your eyes!”
You put your hands over your face.
“And no peeking!”
You heard Lotor laugh quietly to himself as you closed your fingers tightly together so there were no more gaps left—or at least none that your little stars could see anyway.
A few moments of scuffling feet and loud whispering passed by.
“‘Kay, you can open dem now~!”
You did as they instructed, gasping at the sight in front of you. “For me?” you asked, clasping your hands in front of your chest.
“Mmhmm~!”
Their mouths were stretched wide in bright smiles that put the stars to shame. You felt your heart swell.
“Thank you so much my darlings, it’s beautiful. I love it,” you crouched down to their level and carefully took the green rose in your hands, caressing the petals gently as you inhaled its sweet scent.
Green.
The symbolism was not lost on you.
Life. Abundance. Fertility. Peace.
“Come here you sweet things, give Mama a hug!” you spread your arms wide, catching them as they jumped into your embrace and nuzzled their faces against your own.
You looked up toward Lotor, biting your lip as you shook your head slightly in awe. It struck something deep inside of you. His attention to detail and careful planning. He’d outdone himself.
He winked at you, a fond smile painting his lips as he watched you all.
You sighed softly, swallowing around a lump which had unexpectedly formed in your throat, “Alright my dears,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to stop your voice from breaking, “What do you say we make some peppermint hot chocolate when we get home?”
They both shrieked in delight before running over to Papa.
“Up, Papa, up!”
With Celeste on his shoulders again, and Atlas on his hip, you all began the trek home. The chill was beginning to set in for the evening, but the warmth you felt in your heart was stronger. You felt something brush against your knuckles, and looked down to see your husband’s hand caressing yours. Your fingers intertwined and he squeezed gently.
I love you…
* * *
“Like this, Mama?” Atlas looked to you for approval as he stirred the cocoa in.
“Perfect, darling.”
A mischievous giggle sounded from behind the two of you. “I get chu Papa!”
You turned to look over your shoulder. Celeste was chasing her Papa around with a peppermint stick.
“Oh no! Darling, help me!” Lotor called out to you, dramatically falling to the ground as Celeste poked him in the leg with her prized sword.
“Sorry dear, I’m afraid you’ll have to escape this one on your own,” you teased. “Atlas and I have a very important job to do. Right Atlas?”
“Mmhmm! Vewwy important,” he nodded, his little brow knit tightly and tongue peeking out between his lips as he continued to stir the drinks with his own peppermint stick.
The shenanigans behind you continued as Celeste jumped on her Papa’s stomach with a battlecry.
“You know Atlas,” you leaned down to whisper to him, “if you want to join them you can. I’ll finish these in no time—”
“Nope!” he shook his head, “I help Mama,” he finished, smiling up at you.
You pulled him into your arms, smothering his chubby little cheeks with kisses. He squirmed and giggled in your hold until you relented and let him go to continue his very important job.
A job he was so focused on that he did not even notice how quiet it had become. And he certainly did not notice a big, dangerous Papa Shark sneaking up behind him.
You did however, and with a barely contained laugh, you leaned over and asked for your son’s hot chocolate mug, under the guise of inspection of course. “It looks perfect Atlas, I’d say it’s about ready,” you said, setting it down on the countertop away from his grasp.
“‘Kay Mama! Can I put da marshmewows—”
Your son’s question was cut short as he was suddenly pulled from his spot on the step ladder and into the inescapable grasp of Papa Shark.
A high pitched shriek echoed out through the kitchen, quickly turning into laughter as Lotor blew a raspberry on his son’s belly. “I have you now!” he exclaimed, with an exaggerated evil laugh and another raspberry attack.
You couldn’t help but snort in response. Ever the dramatic flare your husband had.
You watched on as Celeste chose that precise moment to attack his leg, latching on with her little claw paws and sharp teeth.
Lotor let out a cry, half play and half genuine surprise, probably from the strength of her grip. She was spirited, there was no doubt about that. When Celeste set her mind to something, she was a force to be reckoned with.
But even she couldn’t escape the clutches of Papa Shark.
With his fangs playfully barred and snapping, Lotor bent down to pick her up, his hand secured under her belly. With one little star in each hand, he zoomed around the living room making spaceship noises.
You looked on for a few moments, eyes crinkling from the silly grin on your face, before turning back to the drinks and assembling them on a tray.
“Alright dears! Cocoa. Is. Served~!” you announced, carrying the tray of delicious sweets over to the coffee table by the sofa.
Celeste and Atlas rushed over and hopped up onto the sofa. Their hair was all mussed and wild, and their cheeks flushed from their play with Papa, and in the warm, flickering light of the fireplace, you could see their eyes sparkling. They were absolutely adorable in their anticipation.
“Okay, dig in!” you said, making your way over to your husband. As soon as you sat down on the sofa next to him, he pulled you close against his side and nuzzled his nose into your hair. You laid your hand overtop the one encircling your waist, huffing out a laugh as you watched your little stars, “Look at them go.”
Celeste and Atlas took turns reaching their hands into the bag of heart-shaped marshmallows and plopping them into their drinks. When no more fluffy goodness could fit in their mugs, they took to stuffing their mouths with them until their cheeks puffed out.
“Watch this,” Lotor whispered to you before reaching forward for his own handful of marshmallows. He stuffed them into his mouth and used his hands to press against his cheeks before opening his mouth to speak, “Ammathubyybnny.”
Your little stars lost it at that—giggles piercing the air around you as they instantly decided to follow their Papa’s example. Fluffy little marshmallows littered the table and floor and sofa cushions as full-on belly laughs forcefully expelled them from tiny mouths. You even joined in for a round or two of your own—Mama bunny had to at least try and show up Papa bunny after all.
Besides, their gleeful shouts, and the silly look on your husband’s face as he stuffed his cheeks even fuller to triumph over you all was entirely worth it.
“Alright, my chubby little bunnies,” you began, once the bag of marshmallows had been thoroughly depleted, “if you don’t drink your hot cocoa soon, Mama might be tempted…to drink it all~” you lilted, reaching forward with wiggling fingers for their mugs.
Tiny clawpaws swatted your hands away, and slurping sounds soon filled the room as they devoured their minty, chocolatey treats. You grabbed the two remaining mugs before leaning back against Lotor’s side once more. With a kiss to the cheek, you handed his to him.
“Thank you, darling,” his low voice rumbled against your shoulder.
You snuggled closer against him, already sipping away.
It was moments like these that tugged on your heartstrings—the simple ones, the little things. Together as a family.
Together.
As soon as Atlas and Celeste finished their drinks, they crawled over into your lap and nestled against your side.
“I got da sweepies,” Celeste giggled through a yawn as she laid her head down on your chest.
Atlas nudged his head against his Papa’s arm, “Me too.”
“Well then, I guess I better sing the Sleepy Song, no?” you asked, running a hand through your daughter’s hair as Lotor’s strong arms held you all close against him.
“Mm—” another yawn, “Mhmm! Pwease, Mama?”
“Of course, darlings” you cooed, before beginning to hum their favorite lullaby.
Lotor found himself lost in your singing—it almost lulled him to sleep as well. But your soothing voice had stopped before he fully drifted off. He looked down to find you succumbed to slumber yourself.
With a soft smile, he pressed his lips against your hair, inhaling your comforting scent.
I love you…
* * *
You awoke to the sensation of something tickling your neck. You tried to squirm away from whatever it was, but you found yourself locked into place.
By a pair of strong arms snaked around your waist and large hands pressed against your back.
And by a thigh wedged between your legs…
“Mmmn, Lotor?” you asked through your groggy haze.
“Yes, darling?” he continued to pepper your neck and jaw and cheek with kisses.
“Where are the children?”
He paused at that. “You think I would be so shameless as to make love to you in front of our children?” he purred, nipping your ear.
“I suppose you’re right,” you conceded with a grin, “but dear, I have a question.”
He pulled back to look down at you, his eyes silently urging you to ask whatever it was you needed to ask.
“Green, huh?”
His brow furrowed. Your words threw him off for one tick, before he realized exactly what you were talking about.
“Hm, yes.”
“Do you know what green means?” you smirked.
“Of course. I know my gardening, dear. I am, as you say, level 9000.”
You snorted, tucking your head underneath his chin as his own soft laugh rumbled through his chest and vibrated against you. You pulled back, a mirthful sigh escaping past your smiling lips.
And then your eyes met.
The raw emotion in his caught you off guard. You were usually able to read his moods, but this…this was different. This was deeper.
“My darling,” he started, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “my moon, you have made my life rich with hope, and something else I never thought I would have in this lifetime; you have given me a family—a precious, beautiful family. You are my new beginning, and I have no doubt I will be with you until the end.”
Your throat tightened up and you felt the sting of tears touch your eyes.
“So yes, darling. Green it is,” he finished, his lips pulled back into a soft smile.
You grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“Lotor—”
“Thank you,” he cupped your face in both of his hands and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead.
“Oh, you sap!” you let out a watery laugh, a few tears escaping down your cheeks.
Lotor moved his hand to brush them away with his thumb.
I love you…
You grasped his face in your own small hands and pulled him down so you could place soft, fluttering kisses against the glowing marks under his eyes, on his nose—his lips. Everywhere you could reach.
You pulled back after a few moments, “It was rather fitting of you to choose a green rose.”
“Of course. I thought we established—”
“No, I mean,” your eyes shifted to the side as your lips quivered from trying to hold back a smile, “for another reason.”
Lotor’s eyes narrowed, and you could almost hear the gears in his mind spinning.
It clicked.
Fertility.
“No,” the whispered word rushed from his lips. “Are you…you’re not…”
Your eyes flicked up to meet his.
Yes.
“Stars above…you’re pregnant.”
You nodded, letting the smile take over your face.
“When—”
“I found out this morning.”
Lotor sat up, running a hand over his face before turning to face you once more.
He was speechless.
You giggled and sat up to climb into his lap. You took his face in your hands and pressed your forehead to his, “Green it is,” you echoed his words from earlier.
He barked out a laugh before standing from the sofa with you in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his narrow waist as he spun you around.
“Green it is!” he exclaimed, a certain familiar glint coming into his eye.
Oh, you knew this one well.
It was the most alluring mix of affection and trust and heat all rolled into one.
And as he headed off in the direction of your bedroom, with you still in his arms—your eyes mirrored his exactly.
I love you…
Sometimes, words were not needed between the two of you. Sometimes, you just knew.
And this? His love for you? Yours for him? This, you would always know.
Without a doubt.
#lotor x reader#repost#bc#heckin tungle#TT^TT#happy valentine's day#starfaring-princelotor#little stars
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ABOUT ME 🥰
NAME: francesca
MUN FC: i change v often -- right now im thee h-town hottie herself, megan thee stallion
GENDER: cis-female
HEIGHT: 5’6
HAIR COLOR: naturally a 2B color, but i wear wigs and weaves and braids so. . . its anything i want it to be
EYE COLOR: dark brown
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: happily single
SEXUALITY: giiiirl idk. ima go with bi
BIRTHDAY: january 24th
ZODIAC SIGN: aquarius
NATIONALITY: new yorker (i don’t claim america)
TIMEZONE: eastern
HOBBIES / LIKES: ode and nothing at the same time tbh. i consider tumblr & doing hair, and smoking weed my only real hobbies
# OF SIBLINGS: 1 older brother, 1 younger sister, & 1 younger brother -- so 3 in total
# OF PETS: none
CURRENTLY HAVE A JOB: i work at an elementary afterschool program
FAVORITE COLOR: pink, nudes, & the shades black & grey
FAVORITE SINGER/BAND: currently summer walker, megan, mack wilds
LAST SONG LISTENED TO: all dat (with megan thee stallion) by moneybagg yo
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: i’ll kill you (feat jhene aiko) by summer walker
LAST MOVIE WATCHED: tech i watched a scene from saw iii yesterday, but the last full movie i can remember watching was hustlers
FAVORITE BOOK: ugghhhhh i don’t read like that. . . probably their eyes were watching god
LAST BOOK READ: again. . . i don’t read like that-- maybe song of soloman by toni morrison
CURRENTLY READING: something for my class-- black power by someone important
BEST SCHOOL SUBJECT: now-a-days it’s anything history realated, so black history & women/gender history.
MAC OR PC? mac.
DAY OR NIGHT?: night
SUMMER OR WINTER?: neither -- the fuck , i hate the cold and the heat
MOST-VISITED WEBSITE? motherfucking blackboard, fashionnova, prettylittlething, target, amazon, tumblr, pintrest, forever 21, zappos, footlocker
tagged by: @solaciummeae // tagging: anyone who wanna do it tbh and tag me bc i wanna see em
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Momento Mori
Chapter 6
This is hella long, or at least, it’s like twice the length of the rest of the chapters. Smut warning!
After a week's time, an impromptu flight back to her old apartment to carefully secure a few important possessions, and to say a very tearful goodbye to Mrs. Baker (which she had refused to budge on despite Charles's insistence that the Klokateers were more than capable of packing up her life for her) Olive was finally settling in to her new room.
Stalkateer had been the main one helping her move, packing up the moving truck and helping her arrange furniture once she had returned to Mordhaus, and he had actually turned out to be a pretty decent guy, when she was able to get him to talk, which wasn’t often. He seemed almost... scared of her, which was concerning, but none the less, she had managed to weasel some conversation out of him, and he had hooked her up with a desperately needed weed connection with another gear who was growing in their closet.
Her new quarters were located a mere minute's walk from the band’s personal quarters. Such closeness, of course, was necessary, in case something were to happen to one of them during the night. But it also meant that her room was directly on the path to and from their rooms, and as such allowed the perfect opportunity for the boys to pop in at any time, which they had already begun to do.
“This music ams weird, Olives.”
Olive didn’t feel particularly inclined to change from the BTS playlist that drifted from the speakers, located strategically around her room for the best sound, as she hammered yet another picture hanger into the wall.
Toki and Murderface had come under the guise of helping her arrange her room, but the Norwegian had long since forgotten his original purpose, instead settled on the floor with a box containing all of her collectible figurines, effectively stalling her own progress every few minutes to ask her who each new figure he alleviated of it’s bubble wrap prison was.
Unsurprisingly, the boy had been absolutely taken with Apophis, who now lay draped over Toki’s neck, occasionally weaving his way though the brunette’s silky hair.
Murderface, surprisingly, was actually being at least somewhat productive, but was only emptying the boxes he deemed ‘interesting.’
Still, despite the interruptions, it was nice to have company to break up the monotony of unpacking, even if they complained about her music taste.
“It’sch gay, isch what it isch. Fucking boy bandsch...”
Olive scoffed and turned to grab the framed, stylized Japanese movie poster for Army of Darkness, hooking it into place on the deep plum painted wall and stepping back to make sure it was level.
“Oh, come on, it’s not so bad,” Olive smiled mischievously to herself as she said her next words, “and you guys are technically a boy band too, you know?”
Toki and Murderface both snapped their attention to her at that, movements frozen and eyes wide as the realization dawned on them.
“What! No way! We’re men, not boysch.”
“Ya, we ams way mores brutal!”
She could only laugh, turning back to bang in another hook, mutilating the drywall further.
“You got enough schit to put on the wallsch?”
She glanced at the stacks of framed art and canvas on the floor propped against the wall before her, as well as the folded tapestries and wall hangings, and shrugged at the bassist.
“I like to have things I like around. Is that so bad?”
Toki hummed at them, too intently focused on inspecting the Faye Valentine figure in his hands to give proper attention to any conversation, the tip of his tongue sticking cutely out of his lips as he admired the paint job.
Snatching up the next victim to be suspended, Olive nearly dropped it at a sudden outburst from Murderface.
“Holy schit!”
Olive snapped her attention over to him, and felt her stomach drop as she noticed the elongated black box now on top of her bed instead of below. The lid was lifted and propped open as Murderface stood with a single hand outstretched, hesitant to touch the contents inside, and she strode forward on quick feet, slamming the lid back down as he jumped slightly at her abruptness.
“Wasch that a fucking Yoschindo Yoschihara katana in there?”
Fighting back the urge to slap the asshole for snooping, she regarded the man staring at her with wide eyes, glancing briefly over to Toki who’s attention had been piqued at the exclamation.
“Swords? Whys do yous have swords, Olives?
Oh, god damn it.
Olive crossed her arms and gave Murderface a stern look, cocking her hip out to the side for added effect.
“I think the better question is, why were you digging around under my bed? I had those hidden for a reason.”
Dark eyes shot to the door mid sentence, as footsteps resounded from the hall followed by a half-hearted knock, the door already opening as she gave her permission for entrance, thankful for the interruption.
“Olives, Murderface.”
Skwisgaar regarded the two with questioning eyes, glancing from the guilty looking man to the obviously annoyed woman.
“Ams Toki in heres too?”
The blonde walked into her room as if he belonged there, as if he owned the place, eyes dancing around the various decor and boxes which littered the room in disarray, finally landing on the brunette on her floor.
“Ah, heres you ams. We ams having de gets togethers tonights, de groupies am startinks t- Ams dat a snakes on yous neck?”
Toki positively beamed back.
“Ya, ams a reallys cool snake. His names Apop- Apopofofises.”
Forcing down a laugh at the failed pronunciation, Olive turned her attention to the new comer.
“Didn’t you guys just have a party last night?”
Icey blues snapped to dark ones, pillowy lips curling up into a seductive grin as he made a point to look her over from head to toe then back again, gaze lingering on her fishnet clad legs.
“Ja, but now we has anothers.”
“Right.”
Rolling her eyes, she latched the case closed with a pointed look to the bassist, and stalked back over the piece she had hastily hung, straightening the askew frame.
Murderface, still slightly bristled from Olive’s odd behavior, was quick to head for the door, waving his hand over his shoulder as he walked out.
“Yeah, well, I’ll schee you homosch later, wouldn’t want to keep all my adoring fansch waiting.”
Boots thumped lightly on the floor and Olive didn’t need to look to know it was Skwigaar and not Toki standing just barely too close, as per usual, his lip curling up in light disgust as he took in the art, an old anatomical lithograph demonstrating the points of incision for various hand, finger, foot, and toe amputations.
“You haves such creepys taste...” His sneer deepened a bit as he noticed the music filling the room, “Ands garbage tastes in musics.”
Cold knuckles ghosted across her arm, and she fought the urge to visibly shiver, pointedly avoiding looking at him.
“Toki, you shoulds be joinings de otters.“
Toki glanced between the pair still in the room, delicately placing the figure in his hands on the nearest shelf as he rose to his feet.
“Whats about yous guys?”
“I needs to be speakings with Olives in privates, ja?”
Toki eyed Skwisgaar suspiciously, making no move for the door.
“Whats for?”
The blonde whipped his head to shoot him an annoyed glare at the question.
“Ams about a personals medicals conskerns. Nones of yous business.”
Medical concern my ass.
Olive could barely withhold the snort that threatened to break from her lips.
“I’ll meet up with you in a few, Toki.”
With a last glance to her, the brunette turned to place Apophis back in his terrarium and headed for the door, leaving poor Olive alone with the persistent Swede. Reluctant to look at him for fear she would be ensnared in the depth of his cold eyes, she snatched up the hammer once more, placing the next picture hook in position and beating it into place as she addressed the man.
“So what is it? Don’t tell me you’ve managed to contract another STD since your test this morning? Or did you pull a muscle in your hand again?”
Calloused fingers running along her jaw halted all of Olive’s movements, and she begrudgingly allowed him to angle her chin to face him, cool pools of blue washing over all her senses with serenity, seeming every bit like the calm before a storm, and she struggled to keep her breath steady.
Before, Skwisgaar had been content to merely toss out innuendos and lightly flirt, seemingly amused and unaffected when she weaseled her way out of the situation, never actually giving him a straight answer about her attraction to him, but since the incident with the wolves, the guitarist seemed hellbent on having her. It was apparent he had never had to put forth much effort to coerce a woman to sleep with him, making this all the more exciting to him. His attempts to lure her to bed with him had become more frequent and more intense, and much to her chagrin, she was starting to lose her resolve.
There was something about him, something irresistible; a primal, raw, almost otherworldly charm, beautiful and glowing, drawing in his prey with his stunning bioluminescence, only to chew them up and spit them out after he had had his fill of their body.
“Oh, littles Olives... It ams very cutes, hows you plays de hards to get likes dis.”
The pink haired woman scoffed, jerking her face from his grip and turning away to hide her burning cheeks, setting down her tools and yanking on her boots, deeming her oversized tshirt turned dress, falling to her mid thigh, and fishnets acceptable enough attire for the night.
“I’m not playing at anything, Skwisgaar.”
What she would have given to smack that alluring smirk right off his perfect face.
.
The music was loud, pounding thorough Olive’s skull and causing a familiar dull throb to take root on the left side of her head. Toki had gone to grab them both drinks, leaving an empty seat on each side of her on the sofa, but that had been five minutes ago, and she could see that he had been stopped on the other side of the room by... a clown?
These parties are getting weirder and weirder.
Olive allowed her eyes to slip closed for a moment, the absence of light helping a bit to ease the aching pain.
“Yah dooin alright? Yer naht lookin so good, babe.”
Dark eyes cracked open reluctantly, trailing up to meet the green ones of the redhead standing before her.
“Yeah... Yeah. I’m fine. Just a headache.”
Pickles gave his signature lopsided grin, bloodshot eyes flickering over her, grin widening at her Tupac tee, glossy gaze lingering on the exposed portion of her thigh tattoo below the hem, and stretched out his arm to offer her an open beer.
“Here, dis’ll help. Yah need it more than I doo. Nice shirt.”
Olive was quick to snatch the bottle from him gratefully, muttering a small ‘thanks’ and sighing in relief as she pressed the frosted glass to her head, hair dulling the cold sensation enough to make it bearable.
Pickles’ chuckle rang out and sent goosebumps up her arms as he plopped down on the couch next to her, slinging an arm over her shoulders and puling her side flush to his, the smell of booze, weed, and cigarettes which constantly clung to him mixed with his natural scent invading her nostrils and having a surprisingly calming effect on her.
“Yer suppost tah drink it, babe, naht use it fer an icepack.”
“Yeah, well...,” Olive stuck her tongue out, flashing her tongue ring at him, scrunching up her nose and closing her eyes for added effect, “This is helping too.”
Another chuckle and crooked grin, and he leaned in close, eyes meeting hers with searing intensity and promise, voice dropping a bit with his next words.
“Yah know what else helps with headaches?”
Olive deadpanned at the insinuation, and Pickles’ smile only grew further, eyes twinkling in mirth.
“Asprin.”
She couldn’t help but snort, and turned her face from hm as his chest rumbled with laughter, shaking her head and taking a swig from the bottle in her hand, attempting to ease the hot blush on her cheeks from all the ways her dirty mind had conjured for Pickles to improve her mood.
Skwisgaar hadn’t been the only one trying his luck. The drummer’s flirting was becoming more and more commonplace as the days progressed and the two became closer. Their friendship was an easy one to fall into, and the flirting was fun and lighthearted, Pickles always taking her quick comebacks with stride and coming right back with his own.
And god damn it if her Inner Fangirl wasn’t absolutely preening from it all. Olive had had a giant squishy crush on Pickles ever since she had seen a recorded Snakes n’ Barrels concert in her teens, falling quickly for his cocky persona and crooked grin, not to mention how amazing he looked in those tight pants and eyeliner. That cute little celebrity crush had quickly morphed into a much more solid attraction after coming face to face with the drummer and being presented with his attention.
"Dis a snake tattoo?"
Wandering fingers tracing along her inked upper thigh sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through her body, and Olive was proud to say she withheld a squeak of surprise.
"Whaat kinda snake? I don't recahgnaize it."
"Its, um, a Japanese moccasin."
"Huh, nehver herd of it."
The fingers on her thigh splayed across her heated skin as Pickles gave a light squeeze the the plump flesh there.
"Yah should show me da rest of it."
The heat congregating on Olive's cheeks as the tips of Pickle’s fingers slipped under the edge of her shirt to caress higher on her thigh would be enough to fry an egg, she was sure.
"It, ah.. it goes up pretty far."
A positively lascivious smirk from the redhead left her unable to maintain eye contact, and she took a swig from her bottle as an excused to look away.
"Yeaah. I can tell."
Olive could feel his eyes still on her, but a shadow falling across the pair thankfully drew his gaze away from the flustered woman.
“Pickle. Olives. Mays I sits here?”
Any chance of ridding the blush from her cheeks was crushed as the blonde didn’t bother waiting for an answer, slinking into the empty seat on her other side, effectively sandwiching her between the two men as he settled in close enough to press his arm to hers, squishing Pickles’ other hand away from her shoulder and making the redhead readjust. The groupies who surrounded Nathan on the opposite end of the sofa looked over to squeal, and Skwisgaar turned to nod at them briefly, attention soon back on Olive, sneering lightly as he noticed the freckled hand on her leg.
At every turn she found herself between the two, each vying for her attention, caught in a nonstop flurry of heated glances and casual sensual touches, the sexual tension in the air suffocatingly palpable.
And damn them both, it was working. Luckily, she had become accustomed enough to keep her cool around them, even when faced with innuendos and lingering hands,
It wasn’t a good idea, sleeping with either them. Any of the band members, for that matter. They were her bosses, regardless of the rapidly developing friendships, and she didn’t want to risk her job after uprooting her entire life for it. And the last thing she wanted was for things to get awkward and weird.
But as Skwisgaar and Pickles eyed each other, blue eyes clashing with green, she couldn’t help but feel that was now inevitable. Olive was far from a saint, and expecting herself to maintain unaffected in such an environment, surrounded by attractive musicians trying to seduce her... well.
Eventually, something was going to give
.
This was not a good idea.
Not at all, in any way, shape or form, was this a good idea.
Yet here Olive was, allowing herself to be led through the winding stone halls of Mordhaus to Skwisgaar Swigelf's bedroom.
Between the copious amounts of booze and weed courtesy of Pickles, her mind was fuzzy, body tingly. There was no hope of her ever being able to keep up with the band as far as drinking and drugs went, what with her head being the way it was, she was more susceptible to inebriation than the average person, let alone fucking rock stars.
But she had tried, at least at first, to hang, but had ended up cutting herself off long before Skwisgaar himself had stopped, Pickles having never ceased his constant intake. She was far from being the most intoxicated she had ever been, still aware enough to walk without stumbling and vision steady, but effected enough to throw caution to the wind and say screw being responsible, I’m going to fuck Skwisgaar Skwigelf.
To his credit, once the pair were alone in the hall, away from the dwindling party and the passed out redhead on the couch, the blonde had stopped her, looking deep into her eyes and asking if she was sober enough to be able to remember this in the morning.
“I plans to fucks you betters dan anyone evers has, there amnst any points to dis if you wonts be remembrinks it.”
After Olive managed to choke out an affirmative, touched by the gesture, having not expected such a sweet sentiment from the most renowned womanizer in the world, he had once again offered her his hand, his long legs insuring he was half dragging the shorter woman through the corridor.
The door to his quarters had barely closed as long fingers gently grasped either side of her face, tilting her head as his lean form towered over her, blonde locks cascading around them both, curtaining them from the rest of the world as velvety lips moulded to hers.
Skwisgaar kissed like the protagonist of a bodice ripper romance novel, slow and sensual but still filled with a deep, insatiable hunger for more, hands cupping Olive’s cheeks to steady her, and much to her own dismay, she felt herself becoming weak kneed from the treatment, hot flames of lust spreading out from her center and licking through her limbs, goosebumps overtaking her flesh.
All coherent thought had flown from Olive’s mind, brain consumed with the man stealing her breath with the glide of silky lips and exploring tongue and nipping teeth, and she barely registered that he was backing her up to the bed until she was pressed down by her shoulders. One of the Swede’s knees wedged between her own, sliding up to provide a delicious pressure to the ache at the apex of her thighs as he hovered over her, swallowing down a rather embarrassing moan from the woman beneath him as his tongue traced the roof of her mouth.
Skwsigaar pulled away, and Olive was nearly ashamed at the way her mouth followed him in an attempt to keep his lips on hers. The blonde knelt back and gathered his golden hair to one side, licking along his lips as he took in her flustered state; her lips shiny and red and swollen from his attention, a deep, dark blush starting at her temples and spreading down her face and neck, disappearing under the collar of her shirt.
Speaking of which, that desperately needed to be removed.
Cold fingers drifted up Olive’s fishnet covered thighs, tracing lightly along the edge of her top, and it dawned on her with a start that her dagger harness was still strapped to her thigh.
But it was entirely too late to stop the expertly wandering hands as they pushed up the hem, stopping short as they uncovered the black leather affixed to her leg, Skwisgaar’s face morphing from one of sensual hunger to confusion as he glanced up to meet her gaze.
“Yous, uh... carries a knife withs you?”
“Um, yeah. Y’now, just in case I need it.”
The only thing Olive could think to do was reach down and unbuckle the strap, sitting up to toss it over the edge of the mattress, stripping off her shirt while she was already upright. Blue eyes were immediately drawn to her bare chest, breasts full and mouthwatering, and trailed down the curves of her soft stomach and plump thighs, her body lightly padded though he could still make out the defined muscles hiding underneath.
Skwisgaar shook off the concerning discovery, deciding there were much more important matters at hand, like the two peaked, pierced nipples before him.
Calloused fingertips danced across her ribs, outlining the wing of her Nekhbet sternum tattoo, and traveled to caress the swell of her breasts with a feather light touch as his eyes darkened once more, eliciting a whimper from Olive, and he pressed her further back onto the plush bed, the fur blanket tickling against her exposed skin as he bowed his head to mouth at her neck, tongue tracing her pulse. His lips brushed lower and lower down the column of her throat, searing her skin with his touch, grazing over her collarbone and finally meeting his fingertips at her breast.
Olive inhaled sharply as the warmth of his mouth chased away the chill of his hands, back arching in an attempt to press further into his touch. A deep groan rumbled from Skwisgaar’s chest as he fluttered his tongue along her tan skin, teeth latching onto the metal bar and tugging lightly, drawing a wanton moan from her plush lips as her hips moved of their own accord, rocking up to grind herself against his knee, desperate for friction at her core.
"Skwisgaar..."
He made sure to lavish each mound with ample attention, not moving on until Olive was a writhing, squirming, panting mess under his touch. With quick hands he glided her tights over her round hips, hooking onto her black underwear and pulling them down as well, sitting back on his heels and lifting her legs to slide them off one foot, kissing along her calf as he rid her of the garments fully.
Smouldering, icey eyes flashed up to her as lips pressed to her ankle, planting open mouthed kisses up her calf while golden locks tickled against her legs, the ends grazing against her thigh and causing her to squirm. Long fingers stroked up her heated skin to trace over her damp folds, slipping between them just enough to tease and draw a long whine from Olive before removing them again in favor of groping her thigh, thumb pressing into the muscle where leg met pelvic bone and massaging.
“Mmm... stop teasing me...”
She felt more than saw his lips curl into a smirk, and yelped lightly as his teeth nipped at her.
“Ja? Tells to me whats you wants, den.”
Olive chewed her lip as a hot swell of arousal coursed though her body at his suggestion, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her.
Skwisgaar outright laughed at her for this, mocking and haughty, and brought his thumb up to ghost over the wetness leaking from her core, spreading it over her outer folds, touch barely there yet still setting her on fire as her hips bucked up in desperate need for more pressure.
The Swede ‘tsk’ed at her, rising to his feet to rid himself of his own restraining clothing, taking his sweet time and enjoying her gaze trailing his every move as he stripped, especially the way her eyes lit up as his cock was revealed.
It was perfect.
Olive wasn’t sure what else she had been expecting, but she still found herself mesmerized by the erect member as Skwisgaar gave a few lazy strokes. The size was fairly average, the shaft curving up in a gentle slope, a mouth watering champagne happy trail leading down to small crop of soft, neatly kept blonde curls at the base, the smooth, pale skin fading to a soft pink gradient as it approached the plush head.
He was picturesque, standing before her with his lustrous flaxen hair falling in perfect waves, the pale skin stretched over his lithe form seeming to glow in the dim light of his room, impeccable cock standing at attention, ready and waiting patiently to send her to oblivion.
One could mistake him for an angel, if not for the conceited smirk on his face.
“Likings whats you sees, ja?”
Yeah. Definitely not angelic.
Gracefully climbing on top of her, Skwisgaar leaned in close, bumping the tip of his nose to hers, one hand planted next to her head supporting his weight while the other rubbed the tip of his cock softly against her lower lips, paying special care to her clit and sending shocks of pleasure through her veins.
“Yous wants dis in yous?”
Olive whimpered and nodded, still too overcome with the need to be filled to form a coherent sentence, and Skwisgaar laughed at her again.
“Says it, or yous gets no’ting.”
Gulping hard to move the lump in her throat, she managed to collect her bearings enough to find her voice.
“Skwisgaar, please. I need you to fuck me before I lose my god damn mind.”
“See? Not sos hards, ams it?”
A swift roll of his hips was all it took, and Olive had to grasp his shoulders to steady herself as the tip slipped finally, blissfully into her soaked, needy pussy, her moan of approval mixing with a soft groan from the blonde as her natural lubricant allowed him to thrust in to her tight heat with ease, her silken walls quivering around him as he pulled out, only to plunge back in with more fervor, sheathing himself fully and circling his hips as her legs wrapped around his hips, toes curled in pleasure.
A pale arm snaked it’s way under the curve of her lower back, lifting her torso slightly to provide a better angle as he began to rock into her slow and steady, making sure Olive could feel every inch of his cock sliding against her insides.
God.
Oh god.
It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be real, the way Skwisgaar’s cock was making her feel just from this, from basic, slow missionary, of all things. He thrust into her as if he had known her body for years, tip of his cock angled expertly to press deliciously into her gspot, his pelvic bone rubbing against her clit in just the right way. He had barely touched her, barely done anything, yet her body was reacting as if he had been edging her for hours, and she felt an orgasm approaching fast, blindingly, ridiculously fast, her blood molten and flaming as it coursed through her veins, the coil in her lower abdomen pulled taught ready to snap.
All it took was soft lips pressed to her ear, a derisive voice muttering, “Goings tos come fors me alreadys? How cutes.” and Olive was sent catapulting over the edge, walls griping his cock hard and milking the still thrusting member in vain, muscles convulsing as her head was tossed back in bliss.
“Holy fuck, Skwisgaar...”
The Swede graciously stalled his movements, giving her a moment to catch her breath as he sat back on his heels, shit eating grin on his face as he thumbed her throbbing clit slowly, making her jolt and clamp her walls around his cock.
This was, of course, the worst possible moment for the door to slam open, and both of their heads snapped to the interruption, eyes wide, Olive still panting and impaled on Skwisgaar’s cock.
“Schkwischgaar, isch Olive... Oh, schit!”
One look at Murdeface’s hand holding a cloth saturated with deep red to his thigh, dripping blood onto the pristine floor was all it took to snap Olive into action, and she bolted up on shaky legs, snatching her shirt off the floor and yanking it on, hurrying to the shell shocked Murderface and kneeling down to inspect the wound, leaving a wide eyed, unsatisfied Skwisgaar on the bed.
“Moidaface, what de fucks? Yous interruptinks, gets out!”
“What? Fuck you, I’m fucking bleeding to death over here!”
Olive scowled at their bickering, standing and turning Murderface by his shoulders to push him from the room.
“Fucking hell, come on, go to my room, this is going to need stitches. What happened? ”
Murderface had the decency to look sheepish, avoiding eye contact as they slipped into the hallway, followed by a scowling Skwisgaar who was using the fur blanket as a make shift robe, blood still oozing from the wound trailing them down the hall, staining the slate stones a deep red.
“I, uh... I was juscht, you know... Schtabbing schome schtuff, and uh, I misched and got my leg on acshident.“
Olive gave the limping man an incredulous look.
"You stabbed yourself?”
The trio reached her room quickly, and she grabbed the large first aid kit which she kept stoked with medium injury supplies as well, instructing Murderface to sit in the desk chair, a sulking, irritated Skwisgaar plopping down on her bed to wait.
Setting the kit on the desktop and popping the latch, Olive snapped on some gloves, removing the peroxide, betadine, and lidocaine, rapidly cleaning and disinfecting the area before numbing it, then threading the needle, much to the horror of the injured man.
“Oh, jeschusch, you’re really juscht gonna schew me up right here?”
“Unless you want to pass out from blood loss, yes.”
Startled voices from the hall drew Skwisgaar’s attention, and he further deflated as a wasted Pickles and Toki both barged into the room. He was never going to get off tonight.
“Dood, whats wit’ all da blood?” Pickles was slurring a bit, eyes redder than they had been all night as they glanced between Olive, with her mussed hair and kissed-pink lips, and the fully naked Swede draped only in a fur blanket on her bed.
“Ams you okays, Olives?”
Toki was by her side in an instant, concerned and looking her over to make sure she wasn’t the source of the blood trail that had drawn them in from the hall.
“Really? I’m the one that’sch bleeding here! Sche’sch fine! OW! Jeschusch, I thought you numbed thisch schit?!”
Olive had taken the opportunity of the distraction to begin stitching the wound up, but had missed her mark as Murderface shifted, poking him out of the range of the numbing agent.
“If you would hold still it wouldn’t hurt. Stop squirming.”
“Guys... what the fuck is everyone yelling about in here? I’m trying to get laid and all we can hear- is... is that blood?”
A shirtless Nathan had appeared in the doorway as well, taking in the scene before him; a bleeding and whining Murderface in the desk chair with Olive kneeling before him sewing his leg shut, Toki watching with curious eyes, and a very annoyed, pouting Skwisgaar lounging on the bed, clad only in white fur, trying to ignore the glare he was being leveled with by a very drunk, lightly swaying on his feet Pickles.
“I’m, uh, I’m just gonna... gonna go back to bed. You guys, uh, have fun.”
.
I’m not entirely happy with this one, but I still put a lot of effort in. Please let me know what you think, I crave the validation.
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