Tumgik
#though i have known him since we were young from scouts
kindlyfunkn · 9 months
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my coworker threw a ball of paper towel to the trash, me and my buddy both caught it at the same time (all of us were fucking with each other all day) and we ended up interlocking fingers💀💀
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jamisonwritestf2trash · 7 months
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minific :) hope u like it!! it doesnt have much of canon lore applied, and its Mann Vs Machine. Spy bein a dad when its far too late :(
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The team had been split up when the robots attacked, and Scout and Sniper had gotten stuck together. Not that it was any issue for Scout, though. He figured the Australian wouldn't mind sticking with him for a little while, and so far, he hasn't left. But it's too quiet, even for someone like Sniper, the least talkative member on the team.
"Hey, you think the others are alright?" Scout looks at the marksman.
"Why wouldn't they be? They've better aim when close up than I ever bloody will." Sniper glances at Scout before returning his gaze to the hallway ahead of them. Broken robots lay littered about.
"Someone was here." Sniper frowns. "They must not be far."
"No shit, Sherlock-- is that blood?" Scout frowns, the red stain on the floor catching his attention.
"Yeah. Trail o' it, too..." Sniper frowns. "You follow it. I'll make sure there's no more of the bloody boltheads comin' down the halls."
"Gotcha." Scout quickly begins to follow the trail until he reaches the end of the hallway, where the rough smell of cigarette smoke fills the air.
"Ah. It's you." The voice of Spy says from the dark, and Scout flicks the lights on. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't... this.
Spy's injured badly. There's blood staining his suit in multiple areas, and what appears to be a gunshot wound to his upper body seems to be the main cause.
"Holy crap...!" Scout quickly snaps out of the trance he was in, and opens the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs through it, pulling out bandages. Of course he'd forgotten the medkits. Fan-fucking-tastic.
"Scout, I am no doctor, but I don't think a simple band aid is going to heal a bullet wound." Spy glares at the runner.
"I'm tryna help you, man! Cut me some slack." Scout scowls, and Spy just sighs.
"Scout. Just... stop. I'm not making it out of this room alive. My leg is broken and I've been shot four times. It's a miracle I'm not already dead." Spy pushes the bandages away, fllicking his burned-out cigarette away with his other hand.
"Well... that's just morbid. I can use comms to get Snipes to find Doc?" Scout reaches for his headpiece, but Spy shakes his head.
"I want you to listen to me, boy. I don't want to be saved. I've accepted that I'm not going to make it out of here. It's better this way."
"Spy--"
"Shut up!" Spy raises his voice to a yell, before letting out a pained sigh, propping himself higher up against the wall. "Just... listen to what I have to say, Jeremy."
Scout's eyes widen slightly. He isn't wearing his dog tags, there's no way Spy could've known.
"How--"
"This will... sound familiar, I hope. I hate repeating myself." Spy lights a second cigarette. Hesitating. "27 years ago, I met a beautiful woman. She was everything I could've wished for... and we were happy together. As Tom Jones would say, I... dropped a 'sex bomb' on her. I was young then, and I ran from the explosion."
It all sounds so familiar. Had Scout heard this before? Where? When...? He can remember someone saying this to him...
Holy. Crap.
"You... You were the Tom Jones that I saw." Scout whispers. Spy just nods.
"I... It is one of my many regrets, leaving you and your mother behind. I was a coward. I suppose I still am, since it would seem I can only admit to this on the edge of death." Speaking is getting more difficult for Spy, and Scout can tell, hesitating before lowering his headpiece.
"Snipes. Find Doc. Hurry."
"Mate-? Wha--" The Australian's cut off as Scout tosses the headpiece aside, and Scout kneels at Spy's side.
"You're my dad. I-- I can't let you just... die here! There's... so much lost time to be made up." Scout starts unravelling the bandage. Maybe it's the shock stopping him from feeling the pain in his leg from a loose nail digging into his knee, maybe it's the sudden adrenaline rush. Doesn't matter. Spy needs to make it out of this alive.
"Jeremy." Spy's voice is calm, with the slightest hint of pain in it. Scout looks up at Spy, who takes his mask off.
He looks just like how Scout's ma had always described him, just... older, with streaks of grey in his styled-back hair and dark circles under his eyes that Scout had never noticed before. But they share the same blue eyes.
"I am proud to see the man you've become. You've made good friends. Your mother did amazing raising you." Spy pulls a photo from his suit pocket, holding it out to Scout. "Here. I kept this when I left. I always have it with me."
It's a photo of 2 year old Scout, with his mother and Spy sitting beside him, watching him open his christmas present: A baseball bat.
Scout looks back at Spy, his vision blurry. Spy smiles at him, whispering something in French that Scout can't understand, and Scout can see the life leave Spy's eyes.
"Dad?" Scout's voice is small, his eyes wide, staring at Spy's motionless body. He tentatively reaches over and shakes Spy's shoulder, but the Frenchman doesn't respond. He's dead. Forcing back a sob, he pulls the corpse into a hug as the sound of footsteps behind him come closer and closer.
Scout never got the chance to learn his father's name.
I AM SOBBING
THIS IS SO GOOD, I LOVE THIS! THIS IS JUST OUGH.
The angst got to me. I'm not gonna lie. This is so amazing, Anon. If you ever start writing these on your blog (or if you already do), please let me know because I will be your number one fan, I swear 💪
Thank you for sending this in. It is very much appreciated. Keep up the good work. You're an amazing writer, and I literally can't compliment you enough!!!
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Sakura Ogami VS Jonathan Joestar [Danganronpa Survivor VS JoJo's Bizarre Adventure]
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Hifumi: Sakura Ogami! Hopes Peak Academy's Ultimate Martial Artist, and the world's strongest human!
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Leona: And Jonathan Joestar! The very first JoJo who ever Joj'ed!
Hifumi: These two large and in-charge fighters, who are bigger than life itself (though not in the same way as me), yet possess a heart of pure gold inside them will cross over hell and high water to save their world and protect their loved ones.
Leona: But if world's collide, which one is gonna come out on top!? He's Hifumi and I'm Leona!
Hifumi: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, talents and skills, to see who will win a DEATH BATTLE!
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Hifumi: Not many people seem to realize that it's quite lonely at the top...Something that Mrs Sakura Ogami would be able to tell you from first hand experience.
Leona: Like almost every other character we've tackled so far, Sakura was scouted to join Hope's Peak, a special, government-funded school that aimed to give the young a strong future that could only be obtained through the development of their own talents; as the Ultimate Martial Artist. Yeah baby, we finally have an actual FIGHTER!
Hifumi: What do you mean "finally!?" We literally had the Ultimate Soldier and Ultimate Swordswoman on the show already!
Leona: Oh yeah, fair point. I mean we just have an actual martial arts specialist instead of someone who just wields a bunch of weapons.
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Hifumi: Mrs Ogami's story doesn't just start from her time at Hope's Peak though, and the power and strength that the Academy caught notice of runs in her family. While it's rarely ever brought up in conversation, she comes from a fascinating line of ancestors who were among the world's best warriors and trained to go beyond what is normally possible for humans.
Leona: Yes, a family made up of such badass individuals that would make the Tekken Mishima Clan cower in shame and terror! Sakura is also known as one of her clan's strongest members, having trained since she was a baby and defeating her own father, the clan leader, when she was only 8 years old.
Hifumi: Going forward from that victory, Mrs Ogami had one key desire. To become the strongest human in the world! The main reason being to prove wrong all those stupid sexists who said it couldn't be done because she's a woman.
Leona: And just LOOK AT HER for God's sake! If somebody said a woman with that physique was the most powerful woman in the world, then I'd believe you in a second flat! Even if I didn't, the fact that she boasts the phenomenal record of over 400 victories in a row is proof enough that this girl is at the TIPPY TOP of power!
Hifumi: But it wasn't always that way; and with threats such as Izuru Kamukura still present in our world, it technically still isn't. As powerful a combatant and as overwhelming a monster Mrs Ogami can be, there was always one obstacle she was determined to overcome in order to achieve her goal: A certain man named Kenshiro.
Leona: If you've been following the story from the beginning up until now, Kenshiro was a friend of Sakura's from a very young age, as well as her biggest rival and the one man that she could never defeat. And now the two of them are set to be married. Aren't life-long rivalries so romantic!?~
Hifumi: However, it wasn't sunshine and rainbows forever. Mrs Ogami did indeed finally achieve her dream of attaining Kenshiro's title of "World's Strongest Human," but not in the way that she would have preferred. The prestigious fighter came down with a terminal illness, and was expected to pass away very soon. While that ultimately didn't happen thanks to the Future Foundation's medical experts getting to him in time, his days of fighting were long over.
Leona: To make matters worse, it wouldn't be much longer after this news that Sakura would attend Hope's Peak, and as a result, be swept right up into the first broadcasted mutual killing game! Enoshima, YOU SLUT!
Hifumi: Indeed, just like she did with myself and my other classmates, Mrs Ogami had 2 years worth of memories erased from her, meaning she forgot about us being classmates and the memories that we shared with one another. 
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Leona: Still though, you probably think that such catastrophe would be nothing at the hands of somebody so powerful. As the Ultimate Martial Artist, Sakura doesn't focus on one specific type of combat; rather a mix of multiple different styles depending on the situation, including the likes of Aikido and Karate. And to nobody's surprise, she's proficient in ALL of them, and can switch on the fly, adapting and making use of almost any technique and move you can think of! 
Hifumi: This includes a technique called "Shukuchi", a Japanese-language term for various mythical techniques of rapid movement. In summary, she can move so blindingly fast, she looks like she's teleporting! If you've watched anime like Naruto, you'd be familiar.
Leona: You might have noticed this if you've followed this series up until now, but when it comes to evaluating a characters level of power in Danganronpa canon, Sakura is usually the main character that we scale everyone to. And her raw strength, speed and overall power is the exact reason why we do so.
Hifumi: Let's start off by focusing on strength and power, especially considering that's the main thing that defines Mrs Ogami's talents. She's able to grapple other capable fighters, tear apart massive plates of steel, and has fought on par with both Monokuma's Killing Game version, as well as Mukuro Ikusaba in both the IF and Survivor timeline.
Leona: Let's take a quick jump back to the past and remind you guys of a few itty bitty details we covered previously. For starters, Monokuma is already a bear that can rip people apart with his claws effortlessly, and can usually only be taken down or fought using a hacking gun, and his Killing Game versions across the series are FAR more powerful than the sentries shown in Ultra Despair Girls and  Survivor.
Hifumi: Additionally, in the same light novel where Mrs Ikusaba and Mrs Ogami went head to head, Mrs Ikusaba battled against 100 of these exact Monokuma's, armed with a makeshift weapon and dodging machine gun fire at the same time. 
Leona: And earlier in that novel, she even ADMITS that she might not have been able to safely go toe to toe with Sakura, and had to make a tactical retreat! Additionally, in her swimsuit event in Danganronpa Summer Camp, Sakura throws a punch that is so immense and so powerful, she cuts straight through the ocean!
Hifumi: Unfortunately, we don't know just how far the punch went and never got a visual, so we can't properly scale it. However, it would at least require a minimum force of AT LEAST a Megaton of TNT.
Leona: Lastly , even though it's a really early feat in the Survivor storyline, Sakura DID come out on top as the ultimate victor in a 5-way sparring match between herself, Mukuro Ikusaba, Maki Harukawa, Peko Pekoyama and Akane Owari.
Hifumi: And it's a basic fact that almost every other capable fighter in the Danganronpa series, like Mr Nidai and most of Zetsubou and the Kisaragi's pale in comparison to her. Really, the only person we know of that could realistically beat Mrs Ogami is Izuru Kamukura, who by default is just ridiculously overpowered, as I eluded to earlier.
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Leona: So yeah, she's fucking busted. And not just in terms of raw power. For feats like speed and durability, we can scale her to characters like Juzo Sakakura and Genocide Jill.
Hifumi: Genocide Jill, as we've brought up a few times, is capable of dodging lightning and slicing through missiles mid-flight with her scissors. Even if it took a little effort to catch her, Mrs Ogami was even able to subdue her easily in Danganronpa IF. Considering Mrs Jill was able to defeat Big Bang Monokuma with Mrs Komaru Naegi, it's highly likely that Mrs Ogami could achieve the same feat BY HERSELF! Additionally, her matching Killing Game Monokuma blow for blow shows she must be on an equal speed level as him, and Monokuma has already shown by this point he can hit baseballs consecutively fast enough to match a machine gun!
Leona: Not to mention that Sakura's battle against Mukuro makes this EVEN MORE impressive; since Mukuro can just straight up BLITZ Monokuma! And series creator Kodaka stated that she could easily defeat Sakakura, who has easily taken hits from powerful adversaries like Gozu, Seiko and Tengan, and even managed to tank a missile barrage, fired at him by Miaya Gekkogahara! Sakura therefore, must be a higher level of strength, and an equal level of durability.
Hifumi: On top of all that, you might remember in Mukuro Vs Kayano, I mentioned that Ms Ikusaba could run from Japan to Prague in a couple of seconds. Really, this feat originally comes from Mrs Ogami, who was originally stated to be capable of this feat. That would put her rough speed on the level of between Mach 20 and Mach 26!
Leona: And you might think that with all this hulking meat and nasty feats, she would be a "hit first, ask questions later" like yours truly! But...no! While we'd be hard-pressed to call Sakura a "genius" she's incredibly tactical, and she can keep her cool and think things through in almost any combat situation, be it hand-to-hand, class trials, or even a casual game like chess or shogi. She's basically INVINCIBLE, and there's basically no way to take her down!
Hifumi: Unfortunately, that's not entirely true...Mrs Ogami does indeed have some notable weaknesses.
Leona: HOW does someone THIS OP have ANY weaknesses!?
Hifumi: Well, it's primarily because despite her inhuman feats, she's still technically a human. if someone WERE powerful enough to land several strong hits on her, she can easily be knocked out with enough blunt force.
Leona: So she actually got KILLED during the Killing Game!? Who the hell can kill a behemoth like her!
Hifumi: Well...herself...
Leona: Eh?
Hifumi: The truth is that from the very beginning of the First Killing Game, Junko Enoshima blackmailed Mrs Ogami into feeding her information from behind closed doors, threatening to destroy her family's dojo should she fail to comply. Later on, Monokuma went on to expose Sakura's treachery, which caused shifts of trust and judgement among the group, basically leaving the next murder to be right around the corner. Tensions were so high that when Mrs Ogami tried to settle the situation, she got smashed over the top of her head TWICE with glass bottles from Mr Hagakure and Ms Jill.
Leona: Ow! What the hell, man!? So they basically both just killed her even though she just wanted to talk!?
Hifumi: No actually. Even though she was left bleeding from the head, Mrs Ogami SURVIVED both blows! But unfortunately, she was really only left with one option, at least that's how she felt. Knowing there probably wasn't anything left for her, but also wanting to protect the companionship she had with the likes of Ms Asahina and the other students...Mrs Ogami sacrificed her life, downing some poison and succumbing to it's effects.
Leona: Damn...That's...impressive. She really sacrificed herself for all that?
Hifumi: Fortunately, even though Monokuma tried to throw a spanner in the works, her plan worked, and became the catalyst for the survivors to rise to the cause and cause Junko Enoshima's downfall. Even in her untimely death, Mrs Ogami emerged the victor over the twisted tyrant, and came back to life later for another round!
Leona: Sakura is everything one wants to be. Powerful, yet charming; someone who will protect you and wreck shit if you ever get hurt. You might come across a variety of strong people across many timelines, but the fact remains that the Ultimate Martial Artist will always have a high place on that list...
Hifumi: Can I just say before we close out I'm really glad we're doing this now instead of a later chapter because...I really didn't want to take a certain feat into account...
Leona: You know that was your idea, right?
Hifumi: I know but...still...
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Hifumi: It's time hop into our hot-tub time machine and take a journey back to the 1880's, in good old fashioned Victorian England. Where capitalism divided the nation in half between the filthy rich and the miserably poor.
Leona: If you had money, you were living the high life. If you didn't, you were down low in the dirt. That is...unless your dumbass dad adopted another son who happened to be the BIGGEST DICKHEAD in ANIME!
Hifumi: Enter...Jonathan Joestar!
Leona: So, before we get properly into this biz, I kinda wanna just bring something up. Unlike our previous combatants, like Kayano, RHM and Phoenix, Jonathan Joestar is actually a returning combatant from the ORIGINAL Death Battle, who fought Tanjiro Kamado in Season 9. So considering DB have already done most of the calculations on our behalf, expect us to...paraphrase a lot of our points.
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Hifumi: Yes, well, The affluent businessman George Joestar I and his wife Mary gave birth to Jonathan Joestar, better known by his alias JoJo.  Even at a young age, he was an honest, kind, and upbeat young man, enjoying a happy life with his girlfriend Erina and pet dog Danny. That is until he met his adopted older brother Dio Brando, who tormented, beat, and severely traumatized the young Jonathan, whose life became filled with tragedy.
Leona: Dio dedicated his life to emotionally breaking Jonathan, attempting to turn him into a docile puppet in order to take the Joestar fortune for himself. However, Dio stealing Jonathan's first kiss with Erina was the final straw, and something deep within Jonathan's heart awoke; the raging passionate fire of a gentleman...Which he then proceeded to take advantage of in HANDING DIO HIS SHIT!
Hifumi: Gentlemen don't typically hand people their shit. If anything, it's the exact opposite of that. Unfortunately, even though Jonathan asserted himself as anything BUT Dio's punching bag, this standstill wouldn't last. Dio exacted his revenge a few years later when he transformed into a vampire and murdered George Joestar! Jonathan would require more than just his morally upright fists to win the day, as Dio was now determined to rule the entire world.
Leona: He needed power...He needed to train...He needed justice...! And all of that came in the form of a weird Italian Man who punches frogs for a living!
Hifumi: This man was Will Anthonio Zeppeli, a practitioner of the ancient martial art of Hamon, which was created especially to combat vampires like Dio. Users of the Hamon art can send a hot, electric ripple out of their bodies and overwhelm their opponents with it through their breaths. Kind of like channeling the power of sunlight, which as we know, vampires can't handle very well.
Leona: Please don't call it the Ripple, the dub changes are always so cringe...
Hifumi: I'm just saying it like it is! It IS a ripple! That's what Hamon means!
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Leona: A user of Hamon energy can disintegrate vampires with a single blow and greatly improve their physical prowess. Zeppeli taught Jonathan everything he knew so that he could fight and defeat Dio. For example, the Zoom Punch, where Jonathan stretches his arm and punches an opponent from afar as if his limbs were made of rubber.
Hifumi: It's actually not as simple as stretching your arm like Mr Fantastic or Monkey D. Luffy. Pulling this off requires Jonathan to dislocate his shoulder and use Hamon to ease the pain before snapping it back into place. In reality though, this is just the effect of breathing giving people superpowers taken very literally.
Leona: What do you mean "literally?"
Hifumi: Hm...I could tell you...But it might actually be worth bringing in a little bit of scientific help for this one...
Hifumi pulls on a curtain cord, and the sound of crying out in fear rapidly grows louder and closer until Uchui Porosen comes crashing onto the set.
Uchui: OW! Ugh...Jeez! You know, when you told me to wait up there, I wasn't expecting you would slapstick comedy me into the scene!
Hifumi: My apologies Mr Porosen. It was actually Mr Kurafto's idea.
Uchui: Of course it was...
Leona: 'Sup Kamu-dude! Was kinda wondering when we could finally get you on this one.
Uchui: Well, I was called in for backup in case you needed math advice, but you've been handling things pretty well so far. Still, I guess I can help tell you about how breathing works...That's fine too.
Hifumi: The floor is yours, my good sir.
Uchui: So, Dutch explorer Wim Hof managed to survive for nearly two hours while almost completely submerged in ice water, as the original Death Battle revealed in their program. In a similar conceptual maneuver to the Zoom Punch, Hof used forced exhalation to lower his oxygen levels, which boosted his body's ability to regulate temperature and releases euphoric chemicals that dulled the pain of the freezing cold. Also, in real life martial arts, breathing is an essential technique that practitioners - including a fighter like Sakura - must remember to use constantly. By massaging the organs beneath the diaphragm, deeper breaths help to relax your body and reduce its energy needs while also increasing your available energy. It keeps you stronger and lasting longer.
Leona: hehehehe...
Uchui: I'm going to smack you...!
Leona: Oh come on, you left yourself open for that one!
Uchui: At first glance, the fact that we ALL simply do this without giving it much thought may not seem remarkable, but by carefully controlling our oxygen intake, humans can improve their focus, speed up their fight-or-flight responses, and even change the rate at which their blood flows through their bodies. In the case of Hamon, it is very similar to the Chinese concept of Qi, which literally translates as "breath," "vapor," or "air." Not to mention the practice of it, known as "qigong."
Hifumi: Qigong is a system of breathing, meditation, and coordinated body posture and movement used for martial arts training, spirituality, and overall health. Qigong is traditionally seen by Asian cultures, most notably the Chinese people, as a way to cultivate and balance their life energy.
Uchui: Qi believers describe it as a vital force that needs to flow freely in order to be healthy. Qi is not to be confused with the scientific concept of energy; rather, it is a pseudoscientific, unverified idea, which is kind of my specialty, as we all know. It is sometimes believed that Gods, particularly anthropomorphic Gods, possess qi and are a reflection of the human microcosm, with qi able to concentrate in specific body parts.
Leona: Those are...a lot of big words.
Uchui: Oh...my bad...I got carried away again.
Hifumi: Do not worry about it Mr Porosen! Feel free to keep going, 
Uchui: Right...well, while it's not FACT that channeling qi makes this possible, it's commonly believed that you can channel your own qi to accomplish amazing feats like walking on water, magnetizing plants, or controlling your opponent's muscles in a fight. It can even pass through metal and other solid surfaces.
Leona: Which are PROVEN to all be possible with Hamon!
Uchui: Yes, but it's evident that no matter how much qi a person possesses, they are unable to simply light their fists on fire and slam their opponents senseless with a barrage of blows.
Leona: SUNLIGHT YELLOOOW OVERDURIIIIVEEE!
Hifumi: Well, that's it for the science lesson. Thanks for joining us Mr Porosen! Your insight was greatly appreciated.
Uchui: No problem. Feel free to call me any time that DOESN'T involve me falling through a trapdoor.
Uchui salutes then exeunts.
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Hifumi: So, armed with these incredible powers and now more than capable to throw hands, Jonathan, Zeppeli and their cohort Robert E. O. Speedwagon marched into Dio's territory and fought a horde of ruthless zombies!
Leona: Not just zombies! They also battled Bruford and Tarkus, two of Dio's most dangerous allies, the latter of whom had the strength to slice through a cliff with a single swing and rip entire boulders out of the earth. He could even split Zeppeli in half and snap JoJo's neck with relative ease. Poor Zeppeli...The fate of the mentor in anime is a cruel state of existence...
Hifumi: If only he had been a tad more perverted...
Leona: Yeah, right?
Hifumi: Zeppeli's final act before passing away was giving Jonathan his Hamon energy, which not only helped him heal his own broken neck but also united their energies. Because of this, Jonathan gained the strength to use just his hands to chop through Tarkus' enormous arm!
Leona: Oh yeah...I kinda just remembered that Jonathan has a sword...He didn't even need to use it here...Now, as any long-running JoJo fan would know, Dio has always had an influence even leading several years into the future up to Jolyne's era, but Jonathan, the first of the JoJo bloodline, was also the one who ultimately defeated him. And while yes, Dio is significantly more powerful in Stardust Crusaders, Phantom Blood Dio could still achieve feats of strength and speed above humanly possible. And considering Joseph Joestar, the only other JoJo capable of Hamon-wielding, is able to easily dodge beams of light, it stands to reason Jonathan could do the same thing.
Hifumi: And as Leona just casually mentioned, Jonathan is also armed with a medieval European knightly sword, aptly called "Pluck."
Leona: The sword belonged to Bruford at first, but after Jonathan's Hamon gave him back his human soul, he gave it to Jonathan and renamed it. Jonathan then used the sword to sever Dio like a chunk of salami!
Hifumi: Jonathan's greatest strength was always his intelligence and unwavering determination, more so than his strength, speed, sword, or even Hamon. Dio was defeated once more by the same unwavering desire for justice that had brought him down all those years ago, but this time around, the victory was short-lived and bittersweet.
Leona: Jonathan is basically the definition of a big man with a big heart. Dio abused, mentally tortured him, killed his dad, and yet despite all that, he never say Dio as anything less than his brother, though Dio didn't share the sentiment.
Hifumi: On the eve of his marriage with Erina, Dio came back to kill Jonathan and take his body, and Jonathan gave his life to save his wife and unborn child. He did not, however, die in vain. His lineage would endure for eons, producing a succession of remarkable, peculiar and...dare I say...BIZARRE heroes who would foil Dio's schemes and preserve the cosmos for all eternity.
Leona: And thus the name JoJo would be passed down through the ages...Figuratively...and LITERALLY!
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Hifumi: Alright, the combatants are set! We've run the data through all possibilities!
Leona: IT'S TIME FOR A DEEAAATH BAAATTLLLLLLEEE!
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Sakura Ogami sits atop the peak of a mountain, arms and legs crossed, eyes closed, and quietly meditating, undisturbed by even the sounds of the birds and wind around her. She only opens her eyes when she senses a presence scaling the mountain behind her.
Jonathan: I wasn't quite expecting this...
Sakura: Expecting what, exactly?
Jonathan unsheathes Pluck from his back.
Jonathan: I was told that if I came here, I would encounter the strongest fighter in the world...And yet I stand here, only to find you...A young woman...
Sakura stands up and only halfway turns to look at him.
Sakura: You were not expecting that the world's strongest would be a woman?
Jonathan: In all honesty, no...Though I know better than to misjudge people by appearances...Hitting you would be another thing entirely.
Sakura: Those sound like fighting words...
Jonathan: It is a rather long story...I was instructed to come here and defeat the world's strongest...Passing this trial comes in exchange of-
Sakura: You need not explain it to me...I will gladly battle any adversary that steps up to the plate...
Jonathan: If that is the case...
He points his sword at her.
Jonathan: Have at you...!
Sakura turns around, a powerful aura surrounding her, and the ends of her mouth slightly curving up. She begins to crack her knuckles and assumes her fighting stance.
Sakura: With pleasure...!
Sakura lunges in for the first attack, and Jonathan tries to counter by swinging his sword at her. The edge of the blade collides with Sakura's fist, but doesn't cut her.
Jonathan: Hah! Indeed, this is just the level of power I was expecting! 
Sakura: This is a battle. Not a casual conversation. Talking is far from a key tactic...
Jonathan: No...Of course not...But deception can be a key tactic...!
Sakura: Hm...!?
Jonathan starts to charge his Hamon energy into his blade and superheats it, scalding Sakura's fist and leaving a burn mark. Sakura retracts her fist, which Jonathan uses as an opening to punch her in the ribs. The punch is fierce and Sakura flies off the other side of the mountain, with Jonathan chasing her. Sakura looks at her fist, half with dismay, half with excitement.
Sakura: Hmhm...This one will be a worthy opponent...!
As Jonathan brandishes his blade and falls down towards Sakura, she slams into the rock beneath her, immediately springing back up and lunging towards Jonathan with a lightning-quick jump kick.
Jonathan: Ah-!
Jonathan thinks he can counter the kick with his blade and indeed reacts fast enough, but the power of Sakura's kick is so powerful, the blow sends the sword hurtling into the sky and getting lodged into the cliff face, leaving JoJo to fight with his bare hands.
Jonathan: Incredible!
Sakura: Same to you!
Sakura and Jonathan pause for but a second to exchange pleasantries as they land on their feet, then launch into a full-on attack, delivering punch after punch and blocking each other's blows with their fists.
With their sights set on one another, the two combatants retreat along the uneven terrain. Hamon energy starts to radiate from Jonathan's body. Sakura's body starts to radiate a fighting spirit at the same time. Both fighters gradually start to comprehend the sheer strength of their opponent.
Jonathan: *This is really the trial that I was sent to overcome...Her power is unbelievable; even I am not sure I can see this through...!*
Sakura: *I will most assuredly battle, even if my bones should crack...But this one...He has more than enough power to crack them...!*
Despite the intrusive thoughts, neither of them back down. The first to move is Jonathan, who charges forward at breakneck speed, punching Sakura in the face before she can react, and then sending her flying with a spinning fist!
Jonathan: ZOOM PUNCH!
Jonathan attempts to finish his combo by launching his fist forward and striking Sakura via an elongated arm. 
Sakura: TCHAGH!
Jonathan: Nani!?
Sakura: HOOOOOAAGH!
Sakura dodges Jonathan's attack by front-flipping out of the way, landing behind him before striking back with a punch that sends a sonic boom crashing into the Hamon warrior. Jonathan chooses to block the attack with his arms and Hamon abilities since he is unable to avoid it in time.
Sakura: DON'T DISAPPOINT ME!
Jonathan: SCARLET OVERDRIVE!
Jonathan creates a ripple of flame and sets his fists on fire, lunging at Sakura. In kind, Sakura thrusts her fists forward at such power and speed, they also combust. The Ultimate Martial Artist and OG JoJo engage in yet another fistfight, the power and heat of their fists setting the surrounding area aflame.
Sakura: Hah!
Jonathan: Gah!
Sakura practically teleports behind Jonathan due to her rapid pace. JoJo can barely keep up with her barrage of kicks and punches as she leans herself into him. 
In the instant that he has to catch his breath, Jonathan rushes backward to get some distance between himself and his opponent.
Sakura: HUURAAGGH!
However, no sooner does Jonathan do this, Sakura plants her hands into the ground and tosses up a gigantic slab of earth, tossing it straight towards him!
Jonathan: Tch...! OVERDRIVE!
Sakura: Hah!
Jonathan: Grgh!?
Jonathan uses his Hamon to channel his energy through the crumbling debris, tearing it in half as a result. But as soon as the earth opens, Sakura jumps through it at Jonathan, who has become sufficiently distracted to land a lethal blow. Sakura deals a strong kick to his cheek, but Jonathan barely avoids the more painful brunt of the blow by grabbing Sakura's leg and tossing her back.
Jonathan: *breathing noises...*
Sakura: What...!? UGH! AGH! GUGH!?
Sakura is caught unpleasantly off-guard as Jonathan takes a deep breath, and the back of her head collides with something heavy. She is just barely able to look up and see she smacked into a piece of the rubble from her previous attack, which is now somehow suspended in mid-air! Not only that, but she then falls back to the ground and keeps running into all the other pieces of debris on her way down!
Sakura: Hurgh...! Guh!?
Bleeding from the head, Sakura is still able to land on her feet, the ground beneath her becoming indented. Unfortunately, Jonathan by now is already upon her! 
Jonathan: SUNLIGHT...! YELLOW...! OVERDRIIIIIIIIIVVEE!!!!
Sakura is now helpless as Jonathan unleashes a devastating Sunlight Yellow Overdrive barrage on her before sending her flying into the mountain and leaving a huge crater underneath her corpse! After a brief pose, he jumps up and lands on her, slamming his fist and dealing the finishing blow!
*KRRAAAAAAAAKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!*
...
...
...
Jonathan: A-Ah...Ah....!
Jonathan's eyes dilate in horror. Despite thinking he's finished his opponent off, he stares down to see that in spite of his power, as well as his advantageous position, Sakura catches his fist before it makes contact...!
Sakura: Alright...My turn...!
Jonathan experiences HELL! Though he tries to react in the split second he has, Sakura throws a haymaker so hefty, it breaks his arm! Jonathan tries to use Hamon to heal his injury, but Sakura attacks her now-vulnerable opponent with a vicious rush, who can now do nothing against her barrage of brutality!
Sakura: IT'S OOVVEEEEEEEERRR!
Jonathan: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAAAAGGH!
Sakura winds up one more powerful, flaming fist, and throws one final blow that runs straight through Jonathan Joestar, finishing him off and crushing his lungs! Jonathan collapses backwards after Sakura's blood-stained fist slides out of him, falls on his back, leaning down on the rubble...Despite his fate, he opens his eyes one final time and looks up at Sakura, who clenches her fist.
Jonathan: ...You really were...the strongest...
Sakura: We will meet again in the next life...And we will have this "conversation" again...
Though the original JoJo failed his challenge, and though the Ultimate Martial Artist is burdened with his blood on her hands, neither of the two warriors can help but feel relieved and satisfied with the outcome. Jonathan and Sakura smile at each other confidently and respectfully, as the former slips into the afterlife...
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Hifumi & Leona: YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
Leona: THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME! And that's ANOTHER win for the home team! LESSGOO!
Hifumi: I'm as excited as you, but while we're riding this high, I think we've got a bit of explaining to do.
Leona: Oh, yeah, for sure! 'Cause I know at home, a lot of people were probably rooting for Johnny-boy, especially since he had so many powers and abilities up his ass that Sakura shouldn't have been able to counter. But the truth is...this match REALLY wasn't that clear cut!
Hifumi: Let the record say that this wasn't a completely one-sided victory. In several scenarios, with minor changes like the setting, prep time, knowledge about each other's innate abilities, etcetera, there are multiple scenarios in which Jonathan COULD have taken an easy win. However, the fact is that Mrs Sakura Ogami at no holds barred was just far too much of a challenge for the OG Joestar.
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Leona: JoJo really did have a lot going for him. Sakura might have been able to reach hypersonic levels of speed, far more than human logic would allow someone to reach, but Jonathan is more than able to keep pace with her. When Sakura fought Mukuro, she moved so quickly to Mukuro's blind spot that it appeared as though she had teleported to most of the people around her, and we've already established just how stupidly fast Mukuro's max speed is.
Hifumi: In contrast, Jonathan being able to fight on par with Dio and being fast enough to react to his lightning-fast attacks such as the Space Ripper Stingy Eyes; as well as the fact that he easily defeated Tarkus who blitzed Zeppeli, proves that Jonathan is just as fast, if not FASTER!
Leona: Additionally, Hamon was a VERY versatile weapon, given how much Jonathan could affect with it, most notably the area around him, as well as Sakura herself. Even without it, Jonathan still had the better arsenal. He's by no means a master swordsman, but it's a pretty assured victory if you're going to bring a sword to a fistfight. Most of the time at least...
Hifumi: And Jonathan had the intellect and thinking speed to use this to his advantage! While we made it clear earlier that Mrs Ogami is by no means dumb, and is incredibly strategic in her own right, Jonathan Joestar is a JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE CHARACTER! A character from a SERIES of stories about people fighting and using wacky abilities in the most outwards way possible! And Jonathan is the one who STARTED this trend, even if his grandson Joseph is shown to be more tactical with it.
Leona: So why does Sakura ultimately take the cake here? Well, it's actually quite simple...
Hifumi: Indeed. Speed and intelligence aside, and with or without Hamon, Jonathan's stats are near ECLIPSED by Mrs Ogami's pure power! 
Leona: For example, Jonathan is capable of setting his fists alight with energy or fire, and can use his breathing techniques to manipulate the air around him. Sakura on the other hand is capable of nearly the exact same feats, like how she can punch hard enough that her fists combust, or sending a shockwave from her punches that parts the ocean, and she doesn't even HAVE breathing superpowers!
Hifumi: On the one hand, Jonathan post-Deep Pass Overdrive effortlessly overpowered and killed Tarkus despite being previously outmatched, and is demonstrably equal with Dio; damaging him with a punch, bisecting him even after meeting resistance and ultimately defeating him. On the other hand, with just one or two exceptions, Sakura Ogami is "the strongest person in the world" and the best fighter in the Danganronpa series. As such, she should be superior to fighters like Juzo Sakakura, Genocide Jack, and Mukuro Ikusaba, the latter of whom found it difficult to engage in a casual fight with her.
Leona: Again, if you go back to Mukuro Vs Kayano, we went over some of the things that Mukuro was capable of. But in case you don't feel like doing that, as a quick reminder, she's been fighting on battlefields since her childhood days and never received a single scratch to show for it, and she battled 100 Killing Game Monokuma's, which as we said, Sakura was on par with, armed with nothing but an improvised weapon, all while dodging a rapid-fire machine gun turret. And she was AFRAID to fight Sakura!
Hifumi: Not "afraid" exactly, but similarly wary of her. When Ms Ikusaba accomplishes the 100 Monokuma feat in Danganronpa IF, she understands that there isn't a way for her to defeat Mrs. Ogami in a fair match and decides to concentrate on dodging in order to survive against her. She was unable to match her in this particular scenario and instead needed to use her weapons against her or go into her Battle Trance Mode in order to pull of a victory.
Leona: Aside from speed, there's a matter of durability. Again, Hamon realistically could be used to potentially give Jonathan an instant-kill victory. Other Hamon users have been shown to use their powers to directly shut off their opponent's brain or heart, something that's happened to many ordinary humans in JoJo's universe with a single zap. Unfortunately, Sakura Ogami ISN'T a normal human, and even if Sakura is clearly unable to match Jonathan's massively FTL top speeds, she is still able to change her combat style mid-fight, strategize on the fly, and react so quickly that it looks as though she is teleporting. According to our calculations, this places her on par with Jonathan's own reactionary feats.
Hifumi: Mrs Ogami was by no means immune to Hamon. Far from it actually. But the feats of strength that she's been proven to be able to survive completely outmatch Jonathan's. Jonathan Joestar's biggest defense feats are him tanking hits from Jack the Ripper and Tarkus. And while being without Hamon and reduced to nothing but a corpse, his body could survive being caught within a massive explosion, which allowed Dio to take it over.
Leona: But yet again, Mukuro's wariness of Sakura puts her on a similar level of durability, if not MUCH higher than that. The fact that the Ultimate Soldier would have rather taken her down by sniping her from a distance implies that going hand to hand with no weapons would prove fruitless. And as another reminder, we established in Mukuro's episode that her most powerful blow is 6 TIMES more powerful than the atom bomb! Also, being able to fight a much stronger version of Monokuma, the sentry version of which is more than capable of ripping apart a person effortlessly with its claws and teeth, is a similarly impressive feat. And in both Trigger Happy Havoc and IF, Sakura easily deflected Monokuma's attacks.
Hifumi: Mrs Ogami's feat of parting the ocean with a punch is proof enough that if both fighters were to throw their strongest blows at one another, Jonathan would DEFINITELY succumb while she COULD survive. And that factor alone is symbolic of this matchup. 
Leona: Sakura's biggest weakness other than her own limitations as a human is that she's shown that despite her raw strength, she will bend over backwards to protect the things and people she cares about. If she's blackmailed, or their safety is threatened, then she will fall in line. But let's be honest, even if Jonathan somehow knew this, he was NEVER going to take advantage of it! The idea of Jonathan-freaking-Joestar taking hostages is, frankly, RIDICULOUS!
Hifumi: Jonathan Joestar is rightfully one of the pillars of shonen society, with his powerful breathing techniques and gentlemanly fists, but Mrs Sakura Ogami's unmatched power, insurmountable strength and iron-tight resolve saw her over the sunny horizon.
Leona: I think we can say for sure that she left us all "breathless~"
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THE WINNER IS SAKURA OGAMI!
Next time:
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The greatest heroes are often defined by their worst enemy. A title that these two crazy little girls are willing to take the mantle of, even if it drives them to the brink of madness...Only destruction and death will be left in their wake when these two come to town...!
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snowbellewells · 2 years
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Self Promo Sunday: “Do-Si-Dos and Tagalongs”
This week’s Self Promo re-run is one I’ve always been partial to, and seeing how it’s only a couple days before Halloween, it seemed like a perfect time to post it again. It’s really just playful, autumn-themed fluff, but if you haven’t seen it before, I hope you’ll check it out, and if you have, maybe you’ll enjoy reading it again....
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Summary: Originally written for a CS Halloweek on Tumblr... featuring lots of fluff and a pirate captain who can't resist adorably mischievous Girl Scouts. ;)
Set somewhere in the vague post-s6 future, assuming everyone had stayed in Storybrooke and they all carried on from the happy beginning we saw in the Season 6 finale.  
Also Available on AO3 and ff.net, if you prefer...
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It all began with little Robyn, as it often did, and her wisps of untamed auburn hair framing her face, with that mischievous, gap-toothed six-year-old child’s grin and twinkle in her bright, beguiling eyes – both features that never failed to remind those who had known him of her late father and the bit of roguish bandit his smile never quite lost, even after settling in modern day Storybrooke. She had come to the two-story house Emma, Killian, and Henry had called home for some five years, with a platter full of cookies and tarts, nearly three months past, beaming and incredibly proud of herself as she presented the whole thing to the Savior, her pirate husband, and their Author son, whom she merely called “Auntie Emma”, “Uncle Killy”, and “Cousin Henry”, as a ‘thank you’ to the three of them for helping her to corral and coax her erstwhile little black cat Mac back home when he’d gotten out of the house and made a beeline for trouble, just as his young mistress often did. Regina and Zelena both trailed after her, doing their best to look bored and unconcerned with the proceedings, hands in pockets of tailored coats and matching sisterly arched brows challenging anyone to assume otherwise.
It was Regina who had shrugged sardonically when Killian exclaimed over the deliciousness of the crisp, chocolate Thin Mints, “No need to get so excited, Pirate. We just over-ordered from the Girl Scouts.”
There had been a whole, long explanation required of Emma from her inquisitive Captain once the Mills sisters and their pint size charge had gone. ‘What were Girl Scouts? Why did they sell cookies? How does one procure such delicacies? Which flavors were the best?’ and so on. For the moment, however, Emma had not been able to do more than giggle to herself at her dumbstruck husband smiling affectionately at the little girl and her gift, crow’s feet crinkling adorably beside his eyes – not to mention Robyn beaming back at him. She had sneakily managed to snap a couple pictures of the whole thing with her iPhone before Killian realized, and though Henry had seen what she was up to and smirked knowingly, he had refrained from giving her away.
Emma hadn’t thought much more about the little episode since. As was always true of Girl Scout cookies (and homemade Enchanted Forest-style apple and cherry tarts too, she was quickly learning) the plate of goodies hadn’t lasted long. Henry, fully a teenager and having recently taken up track at Violet, Grace, and Nicholas and Ava’s urging, (‘His own little crew!’, the perpetual loner Emma had been all through her own school years kept crowing happily inside) ate enough for the three of them combined, Killian had the most ridiculous sweet tooth she had ever seen, and she was rapidly discovering her own weakness for warmed up baked goods of all kinds on a chilly Fall evening. Never in her life had Emma been so settled and comfortable in one place for so long, and she couldn’t deny that she was savoring it. So when her favorites, the Do-Si-Dos, Henry’s preferred Samoas, and Killian’s Thin Mints all vanished by the end of that week, she was disappointed to find their surprise treats gone, but not at all shocked. Nothing seemed strange in fact, until she went to dig through her purse where she always kept five or ten bucks worth of dollar bills tucked away for impulsive buys, and instead found nothing but empty space.
The first time, she merely shook her head at herself; confused, but figuring that she must have snagged something at the gas station counter the last time she filled the Bug and then forgotten to replenish her stash. But it kept happening – a second, third, fourth, and even fifth, time. The radar which used to serve her well as a bail bondsperson tracking down skips in Boston had been set off and her suspicious nature engaged. A strange little mystery had presented itself in her house by the sea – and Emma Swan was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Henry was her first suspect, as she thought he might have just figured he was getting a quick advance on his allowance to take his friends for Cokes and cheese fries at Granny’s after practice or something like that. Yet, after watching her son for just a couple of days – and his allowance payout coming and going without him offering to pay her back – Emma ruled him out as the culprit. That only left her sneakily playful pirate husband, and honestly she should have known it was him without even having to test her findings.
Emma wasn’t sure how Killian was managing to swipe his loot right out from under her nose without her being able to catch him at it, and she was even more puzzled by what he could possibly be buying so often that she never saw a trace of, but then, she had never doubted how slick he was, and he’d had centuries to perfect his skills.
The whole little intrigue carried on for nearly another month before Emma finally got the lucky break that spoiled Killian’s secret. She came home early from the station one afternoon; her dad having arrived a couple hours ahead of his own shift to give her a break, and as she turned the corner onto their street – though theirs was really the only house on it as the land began to roll down toward the harbor – she saw Killian closing the door behind him as he disappeared back inside, while Robyn with one of her little Girl Scout buddies in tow hopped down the front steps and out through the white picket fence onto the sidewalk, the two of them giggling together conspiratorially as they did.
Pulling up beside them, Emma parked her car at the curb quickly and hopped out to catch them before they could get far. She met the girls at the sidewalk, and for a moment wasn’t sure whether to crouch down at their level playfully, or to cross her arms and give them her ‘Mom’ look to get the answers she suddenly sensed she had found at last. She went with arms crossed authoritatively over her chest, eyebrow cocked expectantly, not wanting to consider the fact that she must look like some sort of blonde cross between her own schoolteacher-princess mother and Robyn’s Aunt Regina when she meant business. All she said was, “What brings you two here?” with a hint of a jest in her words, even though her stance clearly expected an answer.
Robyn had the decency to flush and look a bit nervous, her eyes falling to study the squeaky-clean saddle shoes she always wore with her Girl Scout uniform, before snapping her eyes back up to the Savior’s with a smile that would have done both her snarky mother and her charming outlaw father proud. ‘Oh yeah,’ Emma thought, she was definitely seeing a bit of Zelena’s formerly conniving streak now. “Nothing really,” the girl tried brightly. “Laney had just never met Captain Hook before, and so I told her it was no big deal, we were tight, and brought her over.”
The other little girl said nothing to confirm or deny Robyn’s claim, though her awkward shifting from side-to-side easily spoke for itself. Not that Emma would have mistaken her for the ringleader of whatever shenanigan was playing out here anyway; that had her unofficial niece’s fingerprints all over it. “That’s all, huh?” Emma questioned, making her tone clearly convey her doubt.
Zelena’s little troublemaker she might be, but Robyn had a penchant for stepping into mischief that was all her own and everyone knew it. When Emma didn’t budge, it only took a few more awkward seconds of stare down on the sidewalk before the little schemer cracked. When she spoke again, it was with the sincere tone of Robin Hood, legend of Sherwood Forest, which she confessed. “Oh alright, fine! You caught us! But it was just too easy not to try!”
“Wait…what was too easy?” Emma questioned, momentarily more confused than she had been, tapping her foot on the concrete and giving the youngster an even more searching look. “What are you talking about?!?” she pressed in near exasperation.
It was at this juncture that Robyn’s little pal lost her nerve and deserted the cause, clearly not having signed on to face questioning by the Sheriff-Savior. She blurted out an excuse about her mom waiting for her, blushing and stammering as she did, and then turned tail and ran.
“Fraidy cat,” Robyn muttered in disgust, the curled lip and glower she adopted as she crossed her own little arms in annoyance reminding Emma so strongly of the now reformed Wicked Witch in her heyday that for a moment she almost burst out laughing at the expression on such a tiny face, completely ruining the serious stance she was trying to hold.
“Okay, Robyn,” Emma sighed, once it was just the two of them. With a guiding hand on the little girl’s shoulder, she walked them back toward the front porch, taking a seat on the steps with her. “Let’s have it – the truth this time. Whatever you’ve been up to, it can’t be that terrible. I’m not really mad, just ready to get to the bottom of this.”
Robyn heaved a large sigh, dramatically aggrieved as only a little girl could be, and then finally started talking. “I just wanted our troop to sell the most cookies – and your husband’s such an easy target. You know that, right? I mean, I figured it out weeks ago when we brought you guys those ‘Thank You’ treats – Mom, Aunt Regina, and I… remember?”
Emma nodded, thinking back over evening meals since then, when Killian hadn’t eaten much and she had questioned if he felt alright, only to have him say he wasn’t very hungry; occasions where she had offered to make cookies and he had evasively insisted she needn’t trouble herself on his account, and again to the odd disappearance of her random bits of spending money. She was putting the pieces together even before Robyn finished coming clean.
“Your pirate just can’t resist us,” the kid shrugged, looking only a little bit sheepish now that she was caught, but not really sorry. “I don’t know if it’s the outfits, or little girls with big pleading eyes needing help, or if he just really likes our cookies, but every time I bring a new member of the troop by with boxes to sell, no matter how often we show up, he buys some more. It’s like he can’t help himself. And hey, who am I to complain?”
Emma snorted indelicately, struck by Robyn’s cunning and ingenuity, along with the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation. Shaking her head in both disbelief and begrudging affection that wouldn’t have him any other way, Emma wondered mildly for a few seconds how she hadn’t known this was the case from the start. ‘Fearsome pirate of the seas,’ she mocked in her head, ‘bested by a bunch of cute six-year-olds with baked goods.’
Knowing that she shouldn’t simply let Robyn off with being so opportunistic and sneaky, yet not really sure what to do about it either, Emma merely gave the little girl a wry smile and light one-armed squeeze to her side with a gentle remonstrance. “Well, it’s not like you’ve really done much harm – except to my pocketbook.” She did frown just a bit there, and Robyn looked genuinely contrite. “But no more, okay? I don’t know where my pirate has been stashing his loot, but he has to be almost out of room. We’ve made our contribution to the Girl Scouts for the year. Got it?”
Robyn nodded dutifully, and though there was no judging the mischief that her hurricane “niece” could get into, Emma sensed that she understood the game was up.
Ruffling Robyn’s hair, Emma felt a momentary pang in her chest, picturing Henry at that age and wondering what he had been like and if he had been as playfully ornery as well. Having her son with her now, the relationship they had forged, and the family they’d become was incredible – so much more than she had ever thought she would have – but things happened occasionally, striking her at the oddest times and there would be a melancholy moment or two of wishing she could take a portal back in time to re-live what she had lost with her son, who would be grown up and ready to leave them all too soon.
As if sensing her change in mood, Robyn reached out her little hand to lay it on Emma’s arm. “Aunt Emma?” she asked softly, her voice as hesitant and concerned as it ever got. “Are you alright? Your eyes got kinda funny and far away.”
Shaking the bittersweet reflections from her mind, Emma gave Robyn another gentle smile. “Yep, Trouble, I’m fine. Just got sidetracked for a minute.” She stood and pulled Robyn up playfully beside her. “Now, you’d better go home before it starts getting dark. We’re good, okay? Don’t worry. I am gonna have to call your Mom and talk to her about this, but I imagine if you don’t pull any more get-rich-quick schemes, we’ll all just put this behind us.”
“Okay, Aunt Emma,” Robyn agreed, bouncing back to her usual chipper self and past the anxious moment with a child’s usual resilience. She gave her honorary auntie a hug around the waist, which Emma gladly returned, and then set off toward Zelena’s little house a block over.
“Go straight home and get there safe!” Emma called after her in parting, to which she saw Robyn nod smartly and wave back over her shoulder. Emma watched her until the little girl rounded the corner at the end of the street and out of sight.
Turning, Emma opened their heavy oak front door and slipped into their home soundlessly, hoping if her luck held, that she just might catch Killian unawares with his prize. What she got as she stood in the entryway, flabbergasted and mouth hanging open, was not quite what she had expected at all. Standing almost directly across from her, frozen before the door into the cellar that until now they had both skirted around and almost never opened – demons purged, but still not eager to loose painful memories – looking both startled at patently guilty, was her husband. Caught red handed, Emma’s inner voice supplied smugly.
“Why, hello there, Love,” Killian finally greeted, trying for suave and “turning on the smolder” as Emma had often teased him in calling it since showing her pirate Tangled and delighting in his resounding approval of Flynn Rider. He would have succeeded too, if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. “You’re home early.”
“Yep,” she stated simply, popping the ‘p’ sound as he often did in his own speech and immediately causing a change in his demeanor, alerted that she was onto his subterfuge. Emma pushed away from the door and stalked toward him slowly, the heels of her boots on hardwood the only sound in the quiet foyer as her gaze pinned him in place – turning all of his usual methods back on him and loving it.
“Would you like to tell me what you’ve been up to?” she queried, her voice practically a purr as she reached out a finger to run lightly through the chest hair peeking out of his overly undone shirt collar and batting her lashes seductively at him, as if she really were some blushing damsel in his original realm.
“Why – uh – whatever do you mean, Swan?” he tried, an equally over-the-top stab at guileless innocence on his face and in those stunning blue eyes, even as she also saw him swallow hard and scratch nervously behind his ear, the one tic he couldn’t seem to rid himself of, no matter how much a dead giveaway it was.
“I mean,” Emma murmured silkily, eyes narrowing as she leaned in even closer to him, nose almost brushing against his and her breath hot along his collarbone as she practically licked her lips while studying her quarry. Granted, her own pulse had skyrocketed at his close proximity, but she was more pleased to revel in the way her husband squirmed nervously under her hungry gaze. “You’ve been discovered, Pirate. Your supplier ratted you out.”
At that, Killian huffed out a low breath, eyes falling as he gave a slight chuckle and shook his head, having known his wife would eventually get to the bottom of what he had been doing, and almost relieved to have the secret out in the open. He truly had not meant to gather such and collection of the things anyway, but he simply could not bring himself to say no to the adorable miniature females in their sharp skirt and vest ensembles, and by this point, he was pretty sure they knew it and kept arriving at his doorstep on purpose. At any rate, Emma might have his head at the amount of money he had pilfered from her and spent needlessly, but surely they would enjoy the spoils, if nothing else. At length, with a short dip of his head in a resigned nod, Killian answered, “Aye, I figured she might at some point.”
Emma couldn’t help cracking the tiniest smile, the whole thing so silly, so domestic, so normal, and nothing like the trials they had faced ever since meeting one another and the secrets they once held back for fear of losing the other they had fought so hard to find. She shook her head, leaning in to rest her forehead against his, simply enjoying the warm comfort of his skin on hers and the soft texture of his hair where her fingers had delved in at his nape. “You’re hopeless, Babe… You know that, don’t you?”
“As you say, Wife,” he agreed good naturedly, his voice low and mumbled against the shell of her ear, making her tremble helplessly to the point of being weak-kneed, the stern composure she’d been trying to hold long gone.
“Well, let’s see this stash of booty you’ve stored up,” she prodded, curious now just how many boxes of Girl Scout cookies he had managed to amass, and anxious to tease him just a little bit more about how he had been so taken in.
Sighing with mostly pretended reluctance, Killian took her hand and led her back down the cellar steps behind him, into the once dark room she had not ventured to for some time. Once there, to her amused shock and surprise, right up against the bars where she had once, while possessed by the Darkness, bound Gold as a prisoner, were stacked boxes and boxes of every type cookie the Scouts sold, nearly reaching up to the ceiling. There was nothing else to do but burst into a fit of helpless giggles, and when she did, leaning into her husband’s side to stay upright, Emma felt his shoulders shaking as he joined in.
Never again would she look at this space and see nothing but lonely dark and a depth of despair and hate. Unintentional though it might have been, Killian had placed a whole new memory front and center.
They ended up bagging the cookies in half dozens and giving them out to very happy trick-or-treaters the next week on Halloween night.
And if they enjoyed feeding the remnants of the last couple boxes to each other in bed… well, that was their own delicious secret no one else need know.
Tagging a few who might enjoy:  @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @xsajx @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @laschatzi @spartanguard @winterbaby89 @therooksshiningknight @brooke-to-broch @ilovemesomekillianjones @thislassishooked @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @scientificapricot @tomeandflickcorner @superchocovian @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors @sotangledupinit @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @xhookswenchx @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbythesea @capnjay21 @welllpthisishappening​ @o-wild-west-wind​ @eastwesthomeisbest​ @xarandomdreamx @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv
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minniethemoocherda · 3 months
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Iridescent: Chapter 14
A/N: I am so sorry that this is a week late! Ever since I first posted this story back in July, I've been so proud to be able to stick to my fortnightly update schedule. However, the previous chapter ended up being three times longer than my usual chapter lengths which ended up putting me way behind schedule! I don't have this all pre-written, I'm writing it update to update. And I've been so busy that I just can't stick to an update every two weeks anymore. So instead I'm going to have to drop down to a new chapter every three weeks instead for a while. Sorry. Xxxxxxx
Ao3
FF.net
High command was a complete mess.
Ironhide still hadn't returned. Ratchet was busy dealing with the casualties, including Red Alert who's systems had finally crashed, and Optimus was, for a lack of a better term, an inconsolable wreck.
This left Prowl with no choice but to take charge of the chaos.
The first problem on his agenda was dealing with the Bumblebee situation.
Word had spread quickly about the young scout's abduction. A lot of the mechs on board the Ark had seen Bumblebee grow up and Prowl couldn't blame them for being upset that the bot that they had known since he was a sparkling was in the clutches of Megatron. And the fact that Bumblebee's upgrade party had obviously been cancelled in the wake of his abduction, only punctuated their pain even harder. Prowl could however blame them for their own stupidity as he had already had to talk down more than a dozen half baked plans by vengeful bots to storm the Deception base to rescue him.
And that didn't even take into account the fact that on top if all his usual dutuies, both The Ark and MacCadam's base's locations were no longer secret so the Autobots needed to find a new acceptable place for them to establish a base.
Something that would benfit from the expertise of their head of special opperations. But Prowl hadn't seen Jazz since they had gotten Ironhide's message.
When he did finally see him, Prowl wasn't even looking for Jazz. He had been standing guard inside the hanger to stop anymore foolish rescue attempts when the spy strolled straight past him to the hanger door as though he was simply going on a morning walk.
"Where have you been?" Prowl demanded.
"Preparing for the mission." Jazz said with a suave smile as he pulled the release lever for the doors.
"What mission?" Prowl asked, yanking the lever back up.
"To rescue Bumblebee."
Prowl resisted the urge to sigh. His processor had determined that now that Jazz was a commander, he would be unlikely to ignore direct orders. Clearly he had been wrong.
"You can't go." Prowl told him. "I never signed off on-"
"What if it was Bluestreak he had taken?" Jazz interrupted, his smile turning predatory. "What would you do?"
"I would do what was right."
"This is what's right!" Jazz protested.
Prowl wasn't doubting that. Of course they needed to rescue Bumblebee. Prowl hadn't had many interactions with the young bot himself, but he had heard others talk about how kind and full of joy Bumblebee was. And nobody deserved whatever fate Megatron was currently dealing to him.
But that didn't mean that they could go rushing off to fight the Nemesis without an actual plan. And that being the ward of the Prime could not mean that Bumblebee should receive any special treatment. Their recourses were already so low. The Autobots could not afford to attempt a mission where they could loose more lives than they would save.
"Listen." Jazz said, once again interrupting his train of thought. "If I don't go then Prime is going to end up marching down to the Nemisis himself and we both know that wouldn't end well for anyone."
Reluctantly Prowl had to concede that Jazz had a point. In Optimus's state it only a matter of time before their leader did something drastic and trying to fight Megatron in his condition could only result in their Prime's death.
Prowl fought back a sigh. The Autobots were left with no choice to have to send someone before that happened.
"Why not send one of your agents instead?" Prowl suggested.
"Because Mirage and Hound still hasn't been cleared by Ratchet and even if they had, I'm the only one who has a shot of infiltrating the Nemisis and coming back alive." Jazz stated and Prowl knew that he was telling the truth.
"We cannot afford to loose another commander so soon after Blackout."
"Look if I die you can just replace me with Mirage. But if Bumblebee dies, Optimus will never recover and we will loose the entire goddamm war."
Prowl's computer couldn't argue against the truth of that potential outcome, nor could it come up with any alternative solutions. Reluctantly, Prowl released his hand from the lever. He watched as that predatory smile turned genuine as Jazz pushed it down.
"Don't do anything stupid." Prowl warned.
"Bumblebee's life is on the line." Jazz said, his smile gone and voice deadly serious. "I won't."
Prowl was about to turn away when he heard Jazz say his name.
"Prowl," Jazz's voice was so quiet, Prowl wasn't entirely convinced that his audio receptors hadn't imaged it. "Thank you."
But before he could ask the spy what he was thankful for, the door was closed and Jazz was gone.
Finally releasing his sigh, Prowl commed the twins to guard to door in his absence as he marched back to his office to officially sanction the mission.
On the way he walked past Bluestreak's new dorm. It was the first time that his ward had been given her own room having previously shared Prowl's quaters whilst growin up on their old bases.
Seeing as Bluestreak had made quick friends with Bumblebee, Prowl decided it would be best to check up on her.
He knocked on the door, and it wasn't long before she beckoned him inside.
As a new recruit Bluestreak had no option but to share. Fortunately, whoever her roommate was, at leats they were neat. Bluestreak appeared to have taken the bottom bunk situated against the right hand wall. Her collection of plush toys were piled at the end of the berth and the string of crystal shaped lights from their old quarters was hung on the ceiling of the bunk above. The few memorabilia that they had been able to save from Praxus was placed along the shelf besides her head. This included a photo of her family alongside a selfie she had taken of her and Prowl. Bluestreak herself was currently sat cross-legged on the bed, a banner strewn across her legs.
"Are you alright?" Prowl asked her.
"Oh I'm fine!" She beamed, "What do you think? Did I do the animals right? This was the only yellow Sunstreaker had!"
Bluestreak held up a banner covered in a golden yellow paint adorned in small flying organic creatures that read Happy Upgrade Day.
"It is very well painted." Prowl said in honesty, as the words were all evenly spaced and painted neatly within the lines, even though he wasn't sure what to make of Bluestreak's smile. "What is it for?:
"Well they've cancelled tonight's party so I thought I would get started decorations so that we can throw an even better one for Bumblebee when he gets home!" Bluestreak said as though it was obvious. 
Prowl didn't know what to say to that. Bluestreak's optimism had always been one of her greatest strengths and Prowl found himself unwilling to tamper it.
"Have you sent a rescue party yet? Do you need volunteers?" Bluestreak asked.
"Jazz is already enroute." Prowl told her.
"Thats good." She nodded, turning her attention back to her painting, adding stingers to the black and yellow striped creatures. "Jazz is the best spy we have."
"Yes he is." Prowl reluctantly conceded.
He had learnt to put his trust in Jazz during the battle. Now, for Bumblebee's sake, he would have to put his faith.
Prowl just hoped that it would be enough.
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When giant robots arent just giant robots
Tetsujin 28-go, Mazinger Z, the original Gundam, the grandparents of mecha anime, undoubtedly these three series have had the biggest impact on japanese mecha culture, after all apart from being the first and most popular, they’re probably the best original mecha series out there. And as the title implies, mecha anime isn’t just about big robots doing cool things, far from that, most if not all good mecha animes carry a deeper plot, an emotionally heavy plot, (spoilers for all three series I’ve mentioned(duh))In Tetsujin-28 we see a kid, Shotaro, learn to control a giant robot (who doesn’t have a pilot inside it but rather is controlled remotely, still qualifies as mecha in the eyes of many though, me included), this robot rather than being an instrument of peace, was intended as a warmachine for the japanese empire at the end of the WW2, sadly (or happily) though, the war ends before the robot is finished, and Shotaro’s dad, Dr. Kaneda, dies of a heart attack shortly after completing the robot, but rather than being handed over to the military, it’s passed down to Shotaro, who isn’t bound by hate or malice as the people in the war were, so he instead uses the robot for good, fighting criminals and super-wealthy mafias in Japan, who had robots of their own of course.In Mazinger Z, we meet Koji Kabuto, a young biker (motorcycle not bicycle rider) who has a normal life, grandkid to Juzo Kabuto, a very well known japanese scientist, who in an expedition to some far off islands, along with his crew comprised of Dr. Hell (yes very trustworthy name that is), finds an ancient civilization, who used giant machines to wage war against whoever they desired (based off the legend of the Giant of Rhodes). Dr. Hell finding this out is hellbent (heh) on getting an army of his own, so he kills every single member of the expedition so no one can get in his way, Professor Kabuto escapes to Japan, and with his knowledge of science and robotics, builds a weapon to fend off Hell’s devilish army, the weapon in question is Mazinger Z, a giant almost invincible robot with plenty of firepower. Just before Juzo can test the robot, he is killed in a bombing at his own house by Dr Hell’s right hand…person, Baron Ashura, a half-man half-woman, all evil being. Just before Juzo dies, he tells his grandkid of the robot and Hell’s plan, and leaves it up to him to decide what he will do with this great weapon. He tells his grandson before dying, he’s sorry he won’t be able to see them pilot it and destroy Hell’s forces, and that with Mazinger at his disposal, he can be a god or a devil, and that he’d be known as a super-being, like none have existed before in all of human history.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HBPChWsiG8With this, Mazinger Z begins, and his journey to fight off Dr Hell’s mechanical devils is on it’s way. In Gundam, what we first see is actually an invasion of a space colony, we follow two mechs, specifically two Zaku-2s, who are intruding into the colony with nefarious intent. As we see them go in we realize the colony is pacific, just full of buildings and trees, their mission is to scout the area for anything military-related, rumours of the Earth federation (the earth and it’s colonies) developing mobile suits (mechs) to fight off the Zeon (space people) mobile suits. This is a big deal since for years, the mobile suits have been only on Zeon’s side, but as we see, the Zaku 2s attack the colony and terrorize it, until a young boy by the name of Amuro Ray, who’s escaping all the carnage gets into the cockpit of this giant robot he finds out of nowhere, reads the manual, and with nothing to lose boots it up to fend off his attackers. I will include a short clip of this moment but PLEASE watch the first episode of gundam. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWfZKeMeFgIThis happens after a friend of Amuro’s (Fraw Bow), sees her whole family die in front of her due to the Zaku’s attacks. As Amuro gets up and attacks the enemy mobile suits, he struggles but quickly finds his footing to pilot the mech properly, thus starts the legend of the “White Devil”, (Zeon’s name for the federation’s first mobile suit, the RX-78-2 Gundam.) Gundam gets a lot more complex than this, but at the start it’s pretty much this, Zeon attacking Earth colonies, and the Gundam stepping up to the ocassion to save the people Amuro cares about. PLEASE watch it.As we saw, these three classics are about more than cool robots, they’re about loss, fear and impending doom, in any other anime with these subjects, the characters are mostly powerless, and succumb to their circumstances, but more often than not in mecha anime, the robot is a way to empower the protagonist, and make them more than they are by themselves, this is specially pretty well representated in Gundam, so again, WATCH IT, specifically Gundam 79, the first one, the animation can be rough but it’s oh so worth it, there are some movies which shorten down the anime into 3, 2 hour length movies which encapsulate the anime pretty well, that’s it, cya!(Oh and btw, the original Gundam, the RX-78-2, is affectionately named the Grandpa, the japanese call it “The first”, and here in Chile we call it “Tata”, that’s how old and influential he really is)(Below is a pic of Mazinger Z and the grandpa)
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Javier Salinas
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elenavampire21 · 5 months
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My first ever Cillian Murphy fanfic
No warnings: just a shy and loving Cillian
Summary: you are Patrick Cillian’s friends sister and one night whilst out having a few drinks Cillian asks if it’s okay to date you his sister.
@look-at-the-soul @gypsy-girl-08 @queenshelby@runnning-outof-time @elenavampire21 @ohmysatansstuff
Whole hearted meeting Cillian Murphy
Cillian had just finished another session of his radio show and got a text from Patrick.
*hey mate know you where busy doing your show thought you’d like a couple pints. Cillian texted back saying he’d be 15-20 minutes he showered changed and fed his dog scout.
He decided to walk as it was a nice peaceful night he friendly nods his head to others who are out for a walk. Once he arrives at the fully packed pub he texted his friend to let him know.
You stood out side the pub waiting for your friends and blow air into your hands.
Cillian turns and smiles “cold night isn’t it you can go in front of me I’ve just texted my mate to come find me.”
You smile. “oh are you sure wait your not thee Cillian Murphy are you, guess you probably don’t recognise me I’m y/n Patrick’s sister.”
Cillian looked shocked at how beautiful you were and how much you’ve changed since being kids.
“Sorry y/n I didn’t recognise you wow you’ve changed so much, what have you been up to lately.” Patrick managed to weave through the crowd “ahh cill seems like you’ve bumped into my annoying sister.
You smack Patrick “oi I’m not the annoying one, well are you gonna help us get to the table because it’s freezing.”
As they all squeeze through the crowd and meet Patrick’s wife Ella.
You immediately sit next to Ella and start having a conversation.
Cillian and Patrick managed to order a Guinness and wine both head back to the table. Cillian hands you a glass of wine.
After you’ve finished your conversation with Ella you face Cillian and Patrick.
“So Cillian I’ve just heard your latest show that was some amazing music tonight.”
He takes a sip and smiles “thanks I’m enjoying making them means I can still give my fans something to listen to whenever, so y/n what have you been up to didn’t get to answer because Patrick found us.”
“Oh I’ve been out running and ticking off books on my reading list.” Cillian smiles “oh I’ll have to give you a list of some of my favourite books.”
You go back to have a conversation with Ella.
Cillian thinks for a moment and turns to Patrick “mate do you think y/n will be interested in going out to dinner one night.
Patrick smiles “mate listen if you like my sister go for it but if I find out you’ve cheated or broke her heart then this could seriously have a problem with our friendship just promise never hurt my sisters feelings”
Cillian thought about how dearly Patrick cared about his sister even though she was a fully grown woman he still deep down was the protective brother.
As you got up to say this round was on you Cillian also got up to help carry the drinks back.
You’d both managed to weave through and arrive at the bar just waiting as the bartenders were supper busy you turned to Cillian and smiled still waiting to grab one of their attention.
Cillian took a deep breath in and leaned closer so you could hear him over the chatter and loud music.
“Y/n I hope you don’t find this weird you know me being friends with your brother but I was wondering would you like to go out for a date because even since I’ve been friends with your brother.”
“I didn’t realise how much my feelings for you have slowly grown over these years and seeing you tonight has made me not wanna lose you and I promise never to cheat or break mine and your brothers friendship he’s still the protective brother.”
You’ve got a massive grin and also
Lean in “Cillian it’s not weird you’re my brother’s friend but we’ve known each other since we were young.
“I have also realised just how much my feelings for you have also grown your good person Cillian and I’d know you’d never cheat or break the relationship between us and my brother.”
“plus it’s annoying by loving him still seeing me as his little sister even though I’m a grown woman and to be totally honest I’d hate to lose you to anyone because I’ve known you for a very long time and I’ve never said this even though we’ve been to family gatherings but Cillian Murphy I love you.”
One of the bartenders eventually get to you and Cillian “hey I’m so so sorry for the wait what can I get you two.” You smile “I’ll have a 2 red wine’s and 2 Guinesse’s and I’m paying.”
Cillian shook his head “no put your money away it’s my round, you got the last one.”
You glare at Cillian “Oi please don’t make a scene I’m paying and that’s final.”
The young bartender smiles at you and Cillian’s little argument.
Cillian handed the bartender his card and payed for the round.
“Excuse me Cillian that was not fair I said it’s on me.”
He smirks “No girlfriend of mine is paying for these drinks and as from before i love you too.”
You were already thinking of a witty come back “no I said it was fine and wh.. what excuse me did I hear you right girlfriend Your joking right.”
Cillian laughed “y/n I’m not joking I really want you to be my girlfriend as I truly love you and I promise never to hurt you.”
You look at Cillian a little shocked “I..I love you too and I want you to be my boyfriend in a not joking way too.”
You both make your way back to the table.
Patrick then eyes Cillian carrying a tray with drinks and also has a huge grin.
He faces you then looks at Cillian “hold up let me guess you two idiots have finally admitted you love each other.”
You smile and pat the space next to you where Cillian sits down after handling everyone their drinks.
Both of you smile and kiss each other.
“Cillian asked me to be his girlfriend I thought he was joking at first but he was being serious.”
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halfagonyandhope · 2 years
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when the skies catch fire │ch. 9
ch. 1 (x); ch. 2 (x); ch. 3 (x); ch. 4 (x); ch. 5 (x); ch. 6 (x); ch. 7 (x); ch. 8 (x)
“Dantooine,” says Satine firmly.
They’d said an unceremonious goodbye to Anakin, who’d stormed off just as Obi-Wan had told him, “May the Force be with you.” Satine had felt Obi-Wan’s despair at that moment, and she’d gripped his hand more fiercely in response. Wisely, he’d suggested they part ways with Padmé. The three of them had shared a glance, all knowing what the others were thinking: given Anakin’s recent temper, Padmé was safest knowing nothing about where they were headed. 
So they’d vanished from the Temple, stopping just long enough to meet Padmé’s contact, one of her former handmaidens. Satine, of course, had known that Padmé used decoys, but the resemblance between this young woman and Padmé herself was striking. This, then, had to be Sabé. 
Obi-Wan had greeted her warmly - and clearly gratefully - and Satine raised an eyebrow. “A story for another time,” he’d said at her intrigued look, smiling softly despite everything.
As she had handed over two large sacks of supplies, Sabé glanced over Satine. “Ah,” she’d said thoughtfully. “I’d always wondered why Amidala chose Skywalker when Kenobi was around.” She’d smiled, her grin identical to Padmé’s, and turned to Obi-Wan. “I assume, Kenobi, that you’d already chosen?”
Satine dug out a long, shale gray cloak and raised the hood, hiding her telltale hair and Mandalorian robes.
Obi-Wan had laughed, finished checking through the sacks to ensure they had all they needed, then stepped toward Sabé, embracing her. “Thank you, Sabé,” he’d said.
And they’d hurried to public transport.
Now, Satine and Obi-Wan are seated next to Bail Organa, the imposing peaks of Alderaan’s mountain ranges behind them. Satine tries to remember the last time she’d breathed such pure air. Even Concordia could not compare.
Bail Organa leans forward slightly. “Dantooine? Hmmm. Outer Rim. Certainly not easily accessible via hyperspace corridors. Relatively uninhabited, so the risk of civilian casualties is low.”
Obi-Wan nods. “The Force is strong on Dantooine,” he says. “Long ago, the Jedi built a temple there. If Satine and I could find it, we could seek shelter there while we scout for a location for your base.”
“It will be just as much your base as mine,” points out Bail gently, looking at both of them.
Satine breathes deeply. “Disguise it as a refugee resettlement,” she advises. “You’ll need a reason why more people than usual are relocating to this planet, and the Republic has made clear that it cares little what happens to the people displaced by this conflict.”
“As much as I wish I could refute that, you’re not wrong,” says Bail, frowning. He rubs his forehead. “I can get you a spot on public transport headed out that way tomorrow morning. It will be a long journey - made longer by keeping your distance from the Mandalore system, of course.”
“We’ll take the Veragi Trade Route,” adds Satine. “I’ve heard rumors that slavers have taken advantage of the lack of regulation around Myto’s Arrow since the Clone Wars began.”
Bail nods. “Report back when you can,” he says. “And may the Force be with you.”
---
The first night of their journey - well, she assumes it is night, as everything in hyperspace looks the same - is when she first realizes he has nightmares. That first night, she tries to give him space.
The second night, she is tired of keeping her distance.
Satine climbs down from her bunk, navigating the tiny quarters carefully. Somehow, they’d managed a private room, though she thinks it more closely resembles a closet. She sits on the edge of the lower bunk, hand half raised -
Obi-Wan grabs her wrist, gasping. His eyes flash open, and his breathing is heavy. 
Through the darkness, she can make out the sweat that soaks his tunic. “Obi?” she whispers.
“It’s fi…” he begins.
“Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine,” she interrupts, letting herself reach out to him fully. She lays her hand on his chest. His heart beats rapidly under her palm.
He sighs. “You were right about war,” he says hoarsely.
“So were you.”
Silence is the only thing between them for a long while. And then…
“I am frightened, too, Obi,” she whispers. “But almost more so of the past than of the future.”
“What do you mean?”
She traces a line on his tunic with the tip of her finger. “The propaganda…”
She can’t even finish before his hand comes to rest atop hers. “Is only propaganda. Satine, you did not ban a language; you learned Mando’a yourself and championed legislation to fund programs that would keep it from becoming endangered. You commissioned artwork to hang in the palace depicting Mandalore’s history. You encouraged your guards to wear their traditional armor. And you proposed a vote on what to do about Death Watch after Mandalore’s war. Your people voted to send Death Watch to one of the most prosperous places in the system - that hardly sounds like you ordered an exile.”
Satine blinks. “I do not remember telling you any of that.”
Even in the darkness, she can see his face heat. She grins.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, have you been keeping tabs on me?”
He sputters but cannot seem to string together a coherent sentence.
“Of course not…I mean to say…I do, uh…”
He trails off, and Satine grins wider. “What was that?”
“I listen to your speeches,” he mumbles, giving her the impression that he actually listens to them more than once. 
And there’s nothing to be done, of course, but to lean down to kiss him - and to shriek with delight as he pulls her across his body and into his side.
Later, they fall asleep together, hands still joined above his heart.
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opheliafm · 2 years
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*  ──  (  jessica  vu  ,  twenty-two  ,  cis  woman  ,  she/her  )  welcome  to  hilton  hills  ,  ophelia  hoang  !  as  a  well  -  known  socialite  and  daughter  of  an  oscar  winner  ,  we  can’t  believe  you  traveled  all  the  way  from ��los  angeles  in  order  to  spend  a  few  months  here  .  you’ve  made  quite  the  name  for  yourself  in  the  tabloids  as  being  -  aloof  and  -  quick-tempered  ,  but  all  we  have  seen  is  how  +  compassionate  and  +  resolute  you  are  since  you  arrived  a  few  days  ago  .  if  we  were  to  compare  you  to  anything  ,  it  would  be  gripping  onto  your  sense  of  self  with  tight  fists  ,  ordering  fresh  flowers  to  hotel  rooms  ,  sunshine  disguised  by  cloud  .  make  sure  to  unpack  in  time  to  make  it  to  the  bonfire  tonight  !  i  hear  they  are  going  to  play  be  sweet  by  japanese  breakfast  just  for  you  !  [  elle  ,  26  ,  she/ her  ,  gmt  ]
pinterest . stats . spotify . 
hello!! i’m elle / ella whichever you prefer ! i’m from the gmt and fun fact — i have never been early to writing an intro in my life ! ophelia is a brand new muse of mine so pls excuse me while i work her out a bit when we get things going. if you’re interested in plotting pls hit that like and i’ll come to you on disco (or lmk if you prefer im and i can do that too!). 
basics
full name: ophelia arden hoang  nicknames: fee, lia birthday: november 18th horoscope deets: scorpio sun, leo moon, cancer rising.  hometown: los angeles, california  enneagram: 8w7 tropes: lonely rich kid, spoiled sweet, the stoic, defrosting ice queen, the woman wearing the queenly mask. mbti: enfj ( the protagonist ). 
background (drugs tw, addiction tw) 
ophelia’s dad was a total 90s heartthrob. a former child actor who had been plucked from complete obscurity by a talent scout in long beach. think: equivalent of a former mickey mouse club member who took some more serious roles as he grew older, posters on teen girls bedroom walls across the nation he even once capitalised on the love and adoration and had a single titled ‘ready for your love’ by the age of nineteen.
her mother... was a complete nobody in the eyes of the media. her parents had grown up on the same street and somehow kept in contact even when her dad’s career catapulted to new heights. he’d invited her along for a few weeks at a beach house he was renting in hilton hills whern their friendship developed into something more in between the deep talks and late nights spent on the beach. ophelia followed along 9 months later and the headlines weren’t so kind. 
somehow, though, their little patchwork family made it work. lia’s fondest memories are of her father’s big heart and her mother’s kindness. always. her mum went to live in his la home and looked after lia during the day while pushing him to audition for more roles in dramas as she knew he had potential. and she was right. by the age of 23, her dad had stood on a stage as one of the academy’s youngest recipients of an oscar. 
lia would be the first to admit that the oscar wasn’t just the pinnacle of his career but also the start of a downward spiral that she’s far too young to remember. because whilst he’d dedicated the award to his newborn daughter, he’d also dabbled with hard drugs at the afterparty. it was the catalyst for a whole lot more. 
little lia was a bright, bubbly thing! she was the first to offer to put on a play for her parents (and her grandparents when they visited) and v much the self-described leader of any group activity through elementary school. but what she loved most were her summers because every summer her parents would take her to that beach house (now owned) in hilton hills and she’d spend the entirety of it in the sand.
not all was perfect behind closed doors, though. as the pressure of her dad’s drug habit started to take its toll and lia would often come home from school to the sound of her parents yelling at one another. she went from bright and bubbly to bitter and lonely surprisingly fast. 
by the time she turned fifteen, her father had been in and out of rehab three times. lia internalised a lot of her feelings about it, particularly when she’d start to get questions at school. questions had always mostly been about her father’s career rather than her or her mum but fifteen was the age where they really started to grind her gears. she was struggling at home, struggling at school due to it and had no outlet for where to put the anger. ‘fuck off and mind your own business’ practically became a slogan.
it was around this time that lia also started to act out. stealing her dad’s credit card to sneak into clubs... hanging out with people at school who she knew her mother would disapprove of... she even got kicked out of her fancy prep school. 
she moved out by eighteen and didn’t look back... but she did continue the partying and other bad habits that seemed too difficult to drop. until she turned twenty and her father came to visit. it’d been the fourth time in rehab that stuck. he’d been sober for a year and they had a genuine heart to heart. ophelia wouldn’t necessarily call it a wake up call but it did make her reassess her own behaviour and the path she was on.
lia’s been trying to turn her life around after the past two years. she’s still incredibly outspoken, but she tries to use her platform for good. she’s probably more known for her instagram account these days than the pictures that used to heavily feature in the tabloids of her out partying. she’s thought about maybe following her dad’s footsteps into acting but has honestly been a bit terrified to take the plunge!? which might just be the first time she’s ever been scared at trying something new? so right now she’s doing what she knows best - spending a summer on the beach to readjust. 
personality 
lia’s got a heart of gold behind a little closed off shell. she can be hard to get to know but once she lets you in you pretty much have a teammate for life. she’s loyal babes!
big helper energy. you have a project you need a hand with? a person to tell you the best lighting for your photo? she’s got your back.
she gives me big shayla wang vibes from the summer i turned pretty. she’s ambitious and knows what she wants from life but also compassionate and loving. 
still has elements of that kid who liked to boss her friends around lead. catch her organising your bunch trip and booking all her trips herself rather than getting an assistant to do it. girlie loves to be organised! 
still likes to have a good time every now and then... just not every night of the week. catch her on your table when she’s drunk and dancing. 
she’s a whole 5′1 but will put her whole mind, body n spirit into an argument. 
wanted connections
childhood friends // lia’s a summer transplant and has been all her life to hilton hills. even after she moved out of her parents place, she still couldn’t bring herself to not make the annual pilgrimage to the place she’s always considered more of a home. i’d love someone who has been there through it all? we can explore whether that’s like... strained or whether they’ve just always rolled with the punchs! i think it could be cute if they were a little group who met up...? but this is super open. (0/4) 
former party friends // lia was a mess from the age of 15-20 exclusively. your muse and her would meet up and have the best damn night of their lives over and over. i think this could be fun if it’s put a strain on their friendship orrr maybe they just meet up to party on occasions like no time has passed at all? (0/1)
a summer fling // or it’s supposed to stay as that! super relaxed, just good vibes when they meet up (0/1)
someone to do brunch with / confidants / old friends / gym buddies / former flames / flirty friends / an ex or two / someone she bumps heads with / secret friends / unlikely friends / distant relations / frenemies
literally..... anything lmao we can work anything in! 
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callme-harris · 1 year
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“The bitter taste on my tongue.Too many holes, the damage done”
Welcome to Aurora Bay, [RHETT HARRIS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [LEWIS PULLMAN]. You must be the [TWENTY-SIX ] year old [BOUNCER at OASIS NIGHTCLUB]. Word is you’re [PROTECTIVE] but can also be a bit [HOTHEADED] and your favorite song is [BITTER TASTE by BILLY IDOL]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it
[tw:car accident, depression, cancer, and fighting ]
Family
William Harris- Father
Cynthia Harris- Mother
Blair Harris- Sister
Carter Harris- Brother
Wanted Connections
Ex Girlfriend/former bandmate: UTP
Former bandmates: Rina Cicero, Mack Montgomery, Eleanor Anderson
Ex: Sterling Levin
Friends: Imani Linh, Rina Cicero, Mack Montgomery, Eleanor Anderson, Wes Evans, Liza Levin
Crush: Gwen Moreno
Former Hookup:
Enemies:
Bio
For Harris family had always meant everything. Whether it was his biological family or those he had considered family; Harris believed that there were ties that bound people together forever. As he’s gotten older he realized that he may have been wrong about a few things.
His family had lived in Aurora Bay almost since the formation of the town and the family name was well known for being the kind of people you could count on for anything. His father was the kind of man to believe that hard work would get you everything you wanted. He was also the kind of man that would fix any problem thrown his way. Due to his father‘s reputation, many believed that the entire family was the same and in several ways they were.
The oldest of three siblings; Harris always felt like a the position of protector fell on him. He seemed like he had it all, a good family, a good home, good grades; it all seemed like everything was perfect. The truth was though that Harris wanted more than what Aurora Bay could offer. Though he was excelling in athletics and academics, his true passion was music. An avid drummer; Harris began his musical aspirations at a young age and was hoping to follow them into a full time career. While his parents believe that their sons success would be found in different fields, they still supported him, because it was what made him happy.
By the time he was in college, Harris found a band that had a lot of potential, however they were missing a very important member; a lead singer. After searching the town for someone who fit, the band came across a singer that not only clicked with the groups vibe but also had Harris instantly smitten. They became the classic rock band couple who would write together and whose chemistry could be felt from the audience. It seemed that Harris’ dreams of musical success were within reach. Luck was on their side again when the band had been scouted and offered a tour and contract. It all seemed too good to be true, and for Harris it was. Just when things seemed perfect; tragedy struck.
On his way home after a late night rehearsal Harris was caught in a devastating car accident that left him in the hospital with an arm and both legs broken among other injuries. The bands tour had to be postponed till their drummer was back on his feet. However, what seemed like a couple months was closing in on a year and Harris was still dealing with nerve damage, the possibility he would never walk again, and the fear that he may never leave the hospital room. Realizing her window of opportunity might come to a close, the bands lead singer and the love of his life packed her bags and left Harris without more than a goodbye note. Harris’ world shattered that day and the hole left in his heart from her began to grow into a bitter pit. He started to withdraw from others and argue with those who were trying to help him. Harris was on his way to alienating everyone in his life and burning every bridge in his path. The only thing he hadn’t completely abandoned was his recovery; which he started to put more time into till he was back in his feet and feeling like he could start to drum again. The nerve damage in his left hand was still a problem, but he didn’t want to let his love of music fade away into nothing.
A few years later, tragedy struck again when Harris’ mother had begun to feel unwell. Her condition started to get worse over time and was later revealed to be cancer. The family unit needed to be close by to try to make the most of the situation, so Harris felt like he had to to stick around and help take care of his mom. While his younger brother was in college and his sister wasn’t coping with the diagnosis well, Harris felt like things fell on him and his fathers shoulders. As much as he wanted to find a way out of town, he couldn’t leave again. His parents supported him his whole life and he felt it was his duty to do the same.
Since then, he’s been trying to not let what has happened in his life make him bitter, but it’s been easier said than done. He’s still mad over what his ex had done, he’s sad over how his mother is in poor health, and he’s frustrated and the lingering pain from his accident. It was all of these emotions that led him to his current job. While having a drink at the Oasis Nightclub, a fight broke out and Harris felt the need to step in. Despite the pain he felt in his body on his worst days, on a good day the former drummer knew how to throw a mean punch. He had started boxing in an attempt to help try to recapture some of his athleticism and it came in handy that night. After throwing the guy out of the club he had been offered a job on the spot.
His life isn’t what he hoped it to be and it frustrates him to feel both so stuck and powerless but he’s trying his best to do something with his life in Aurora Bay. Perhaps maybe happiness isn’t to be found in running away but in sticking around and falling in love with his hometown again.
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worldismyne · 2 years
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Enchanted
Approximate Date of Origin: 10/12/12
Author: Unknown; I do not take credit for this fic
Rated: G
Summary: Cinderella fairytale parody. But with Finn and Harv
Once upon a time, in a land, far, far, far, far, far away, there lay a kingdom, a kingdom that was ruled by a beautiful and curvaceous Queen with short, spiky, silky golden white hair, a clear, unblemished face, and gentle pink eyes. She was the fairest of them all, and the kindest by far... Well, actually, she thinks that she's the fairest of them all since she killed that girl and the dwarves-Why the dwarves you ask? Well, they creeped her son out, and whatever creeped her son out, and whatever creeped her son out would be terminated-... And she's actually a total bitch through and through. Everyone that was in the castle knew this. Except the one person closest to her. Her son, the Prince. The Prince, Finn, was a young boy with lilac eyes, golden white hair, and an almost always happy atmosphere around him. He came in second to the most kind person in the land, the first being Dorothy, though, technically, she was back in Kansas so... But, anywho, Finn trusted his mother, or Mommy, unconditionally. He always thought she was sweet and pure and righteous as any Mommy could be. Of course, that might be due to the fact he didn't understand the concept that evil could come from his Mommy, or anyone in the kingdom except for that evil unicorn that ran him through and stalks him, not to mention haunts him in his dreams...of evil... But, that's not the point. Prince Finn was a little... naive, I suppose you could say. He believed anything his Mommy told him, and listened with apt attention. It was from her how he learned to make his hair perfect. How to walk with grace and poise. And, most importantly, how to laugh in a royal manner, which, for some reason, usually involved someone frowning and doing something while holding a fan over your mouth. But, he never questioned it. After all, his Mommy had taught him it. It must be logical. Enough explaining on that matter, now let's move onto what this whole thing really circles around! In a month or so, Prince Finn will have his thirteenth year on the blue and green sphere we call earth. In celebration of this, there was to be a ball held in his honor, after all, thirteen was the year adolescence ended. Of course, Prince Finn was excited, thinking of all the presents he would receive, hopefully more that what he had gotten last year. One million presents?! That the was the lowest number yet! Unbeknown to him however, was the fact that in this said ball, his Mommy would be scouting out for a girl to be the Princess to his Prince. If Prince Finn had known of this, he would have cried out in fear and plead with his Mommy to cancel the ball. It wasn’t that he didn’t like girls. They were fun! In fact, he was brought up as a girl for a while by the maids before his Mommy ordered them to stop filling his head with womanly things. It was that they usually… swarmed him. It was overwhelming and scary. They always called out the oddest things that got garbled until it was almost impossibleto understand. Truly, the evil unicorn and the girls were almost on the same level. ..:*:.. One morning in the castle, Prince Finn was slumbering quietly, his breaths soft against his goose feather pillows, moving minutely every now and then. However, his sleep was disturbed when a hand gently carded through his hair. “Finny~ Come darling, it's time to get up.” “Mnngh...” he mumbled tiredly, turning away from his Mommy and snuggling deeper into the large mass of pink that was his bed. “I have an early birthday present for you~” the woman chuckled as, in an instant, her son was staring up at her with eager eyes. “Really?!?!?!” Finn squealed. “Of course. Would I ever lie to you, Finny?” she cooed, before he turned away from the excited youth and barked orders. Of course, Finn took no notice of his Mommy's harsh tones, too wrapped up in the idea of getting an early present... Crap that was a pun, wasn't it? Wow... awkward... At the sound of squeaking from the doorway, Finn snapped his head towards said entrance, his eyes growing wide at the size of the box that was wheeled in. He watched as the
burly men deposited it, before he excitedly, but daintily, slipped from his bed, his hair ruffled by tossing in the night, his body adorned with a long purple night shirt similar to his usual dressings. He hurried up to the box that was, he noticed, an inch or so taller than himself, and stared as the delightful carvings on the wood. Harpsichords. Oh, his mother did know him so well... He reached out a hand and caressed the carvings, humming his approval, before he jumped back when a sound came from inside, sounding like something banging on the wood. After a moment, it happened again. And again. Two times. Then in rapid succession. Finn blinked, before he smiled brightly, having an idea of what it might be. He took the ribbon swaying tantalizingly in front of him, and gave it a gentle tug. A chain reaction was set off with this action. The first: The silky blue ribbon undid itself, the pretty bow disappearing in a flourish. Two: The walls fell down, causing Finn to jump out of the way. Three: The sound stopped and was replaced with gasping and a wooden thump as whatever was in the box fell. Four: The gasps increased with small pieces of 'Oh my God! I can breathe' mixing into the needy breaths of air. Prince Finn stared down at the inhabitant of the box for a moment, completely surprised at the unexpected creature. A boy, perhaps his age, was sitting on his knees before him, hands planted firmly on one of the wooden box's walls, brown dreadlocks framing a soft brown and slightly scuffed face, as well as resting against the other's shoulders, most of it being held back with a green neckerchief. Prince Finn examined the other's face for a moment, before his eyes slid down to what the other was wearing, his eyes lighting up in recognition at the forest green and lime green tones, patches included. “Mommy!” Finn exclaimed, whirling around, smiling happily, before he tackled his Mommy with a large hug. “Thanks you! My very own servant! I though it was a horse or a dog or a cat- but this is even better!!!” he exclaimed, nuzzling his nose into the Queen's stomach happily. With a gentle chuckle, she opened her mouth to reply, only to be cut off. “What?!” both items of royalty looked over to where the word had come from, eyes landing on the now glaring boy. “Who do you think you're talking about? I'm no one's servant.” the boy growled, standing up carefully as not to fall over. “A warrior in training does not a servant make!” he spat, crossing his arms defiantly. After a moment of silence, Prince Finn lifted a hand and pointed at the other, his face bright. “Then, why are you wearing those? Usually, servants wear those!” he chirped, making a confused look appear on the boy's face. “What are you-” he began, moving his eyes as to look down at himself, only for him to choke off his words as his eyes, wide and afraid, laid upon his attire. “A-ah?” he choked out, his throat dry, before he looked over his shoulder at himself. “Ah?” he then grabbed on the dress and tugged, as if the whole thing would fall apart and his usual attire would appear. “A-ahhhhhhhhhhh!” he whined/shrieked, falling to his knees and trying fruitlessly to pull off the dress. This couldn't be happening! It couldn't be! He wasn't wearing a dress! He wasn't! “He looks really good in it, doesn't he, Mommy?” Prince Finn questioned his mother, looking up to her and giggling. “Oh yes, truly.” she agreed, giggling along with her son. “Perfect length.” He snapped his eyes up at the two royal blonds, his periwinkle blue eyes aflame in anger. “What did you do?! Why am I here?!” he growled, his hands clutching into the skirt tightly. The last thing he remembered, was that he was cutting firewood so he and his family could cook that night, when he was suddenly apprehended by two burly men, and a cloyingly sweet scented handkerchief was pressed against his nose. “And why am I in a dress?!?!?!” he exclaimed. “Because you're my early birthday present!” Prince Finn put in helpfully, making the other boy freeze. “...Present?” “Yep!” “... You can't have a person as a
present!” the boy burst, making Prince Finn frown. “But Mommy said...” “And why would I be in a dress?! Huh?! Answer me that!” Almost instantly, Finn brightened. “Oh! That's easy! You're my new servant! And all the servant girls here wear clothes like that!” “But I'm a boy! Boys don't wear this kind of stuff!!!” the blond seemed momentarily puzzled by this, nibbling on his bottom lip, before he replied snootily. “Well they should.” the blue eyed boy stared at the other, his jaw having dropped. He watched as the other looked up at his mother, smiling. “In fact, I'll call you...?” he he trailed off, looking up to his mother. "What's his name, Mommy?" “Harv, dear.” she replied, smiling down at her son, "How about... Harvarella?" they shared a smile, before they proceeded to giggle. The brown skinned boy stared at the two giggling blonds, his right eye twitching slightly. He had been captured by a insane institution. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that these two were the Prince and the Queen, but that didn't change his contempt and wariness towards the two. The royalty could not be trusted after all... “I don't know what's going on in your heads.” the boy muttered, catching their attention. “But I'm not becoming a servant. And I am CERTAINLY not being called Harvarella.” “Huh?! B-but-” stuttered Prince Finn, eyes suddenly wide. Without a glance back, the boy turned and headed towards the open doors, only for two burly men to block his way, making him freeze. Eying them up and down, he deducted that it would be difficult to defeat just one of them, unless he used his agility and dashed out of this hell hole... “I don't think you'll be going anywhere, Harvarella.” the boy gritted his teeth. “It's Harv. And why would that be m'lady.” he questioned sarcastically, not bothering to look at her. “I'm fast enough to slip past these thugs, easy.” “Hmm... No reason...” she hummed, before she let out a little gasp. “Oh my! Look at these!” Harv's brow furrowed at the woman's words. “Oooh! What?!” questioned the Prince excitedly, most likely trying to see what the Queen was talking about. “However did I get these pictures?” the brown skinned boy felt his heart stop. Pictures? Pictures were never good in this kind of situation. Harv, unsure, looked over his shoulder to see the Prince trying to get the pictures and the Queen tutting him gently. “What-” he cleared his throat, his tongue suddenly dry. “Wh-what pictures?” he questioned, his voice disgustingly timid to his own ears. The Queen looked to him with an innocent expression. “Oh, nothing.” she said, walking forward, her son following, still trying to see the pictures. “Just pictures of you...” she held up the pictures in front of his face, making his eyes widen. “While you were sleeping in the crate. What a pretty thing you make. Like Sleeping Beauty.” the woman cackled as Harv whipped around and made a grab for the pictures, the Queen moving just out of reach, his cheeks dark with embarrassment. The woman then looked to the burly men. “Which, reminds me, invite her as well.” Those pictures were so misleading. One had him curled up, the skirt hitched slightly up to his thigh. Another had him on his back, one hand in his hair and the other on his stomach. There was also one with him in a bra and ladies undergarments... Wait, did that mean he was wearing one right NOW?!?!??! Oh GOD he hoped not! Obviously not the bra since he didn't feel any straps on his shoulders. Another picture had him in a corset. That was one of the worst! “I think you should stay, Harvarella.” the Queen mused, looking down upon the scarred warrior in training. "It's HARV!" "Hmmm... Perhaps I should submit them to the news paper..." “You... you soulless witch...” mumbled Harv, his pupils contracted in shock and fear. “...Fine.” “Yay!” suddenly, Harv found himself in a tight grasp. “I have a servant! Weee!” Prince Finn looked up at Harv with eager, almost hungry eyes. Harv's right eye twitched in annoyance and disgust. This boy was sickeningly sweet. And not the kind that makes you want to
never eat candy again. The kind that makes you want to throw up, and go on a sweet strike. Which was unthinkable. With a grumble, he disentangled himself from the young one and brushed his-shudder-dress off, relieving it of non-existent dust particles. "Yeah yeah..." he muttered, before he crossed his arms and looked to the Queen. "What am I supposed to do, your Highness?" he questioned, earning narrowed eyes from said woman. "I think that's up to Prince Finn, don't you think, Harvarella?" this earned a growl, only for it to be cut off by Prince Finn's squeal. "I'm so excited!" Harv watched as, quite suddenly, Prince Finn adopted a more... sophisticated demeanor, pulling out a lilac hue fan from out of nowhere and looking down on him-how he could do this when he was shorter was a mystery-, a sinister aura about him. "This," he purred, making chills of fear run up and down Harv's spine. "Shall be fun." ..:*:..:*:.. "Hmhmhmmm..." hummed Prince Finn to himself as he made his usual ritual of brushing his hair one-hundred times. "Such golden locks lie upon thine fair head, wonderfully tussled when risen from mine..." he trailed off, pursing his lips in confusion, before he called, "Harvarella? What rhymes with head?" his response was an irritable growl. Currently, Harv was sweeping the Prince's floor angrily. After two weeks, he had grown accustomed to the name, but that didn't mean it didn't bug the hell out of him. He had learned, over the span of two weeks, that Prince Finn was obsessed with singing little tunes like a traveling Bard, and would make rhymes all DAY, usually the simple endings being filled in by Harvarell- Er, Harv. "Bed." he gave the other, making the Prince smile. "Such golden locks lie upon thine fair head, wonderfully tussled when risen from mine bed- Hey! It worked!" he exclaimed, making Harv groan. The Prince was a complete ditz at times... "Done!" Prince Finn chirruped, setting his royal brush in his night stand drawer. He then turned and looked to Harv, who was still sweeping. "Harvarella, why were you so angry about sweeping before?" Finn questioned, making Harv grit his teeth. "Because, sweeping is for GIRLS." he stated, recalling how, after seeing the latest pictures of himself sleeping a week ago, he was forced into accepting he needed to sweep, Mother and Son laughing behind their fans as he did so. "Plus, I suck at it." he muttered to himself, hoping the other hadn't caught that. Of course, he had all the bad luck. "Nu-uh!" Prince Finn disagreed. "You sweep well! And don't say that! That's rude! I like sweeping sometimes, and I'm not a girl!" Finn said proudly, laying a hand on his chest. "Why, my Mommy's servants taught me!" "Hn..." Harv mumbled, not really caring about the other's history. "Whatever." After a moment of silence, Harv heard Prince Finn sigh, the gentle sound of him flopping on his bed reaching his ears. "Harvarella, what's it like to be in Poverty?" Prince Finn questioned, making Harv's sigh. "It's better than this." he muttered, making the Prince look at him. "Really?" "Yeah." "How?" "Well..." Harv let his arms rest, his periwinkle blue eyes looking out the large window. "For one, I have my family, like my little brothers and my goat and my mom and my dad..." his lids lowered minutely. "And at the Academy, I got to get into fights and joke around with my friends... Chores sucked though." "...Hm." mumbled Finn, looking up at the purple ceiling. "Sounds... boring." Harv gripped tight onto the stick of his broom and gritted his teeth. "Whatever! I wouldn't expect a Prince to understand!" he harshly smacked the broom bristles against the hard wood part of the floor. "What do you mean?" Prince Finn questioned, his brows furrowing. "You get everything you want!" Harv spat. "You don't even know what family means, I bet!" "Hey! That's not true!" Finn exclaimed. "I have my Mommy! She's family!" "Feh! You just like her because she gives you stuff!" Harv returned, snapping his head to glare at the Prince, meeting him gaze for gaze. "Nu-uh! I love her because
she's nice! And kind! And my Mom!" "Shows what you know! Your mom is a terrible person!" Harv threw at the other. "She is NOT!" "Yes. She is!" "She's the prettiest woman in the land!" "Says her." "And her mirror!" "Oooh, well then, she MUST be the prettiest woman in the land if a mirror says it." Harv said sarcastically. Prince Finn smiled. "Glad we see eye to eye." he quipped, before he hopped from his bed and approached the fuming Harv. "You know Harvarella," he started, a calculating look in his eye. "I was wondering... If you've ever been to a ball before?" 'Huh?' Harv thought, blinking, before his anger was placed with annoyance. "What's with the sudden change of subject?!" "Awww, just answer, Harvarella!" "...No." Harv muttered. He cringed at the smile the other gained. He was probably going to say that he couldn't go and then- "Well! Then you can come to my birthday!" Prince Finn burst out. Harv's jaw dropped, his hand letting the broom go, which landed with a clatter. "...Y-you mean-" "Mmmhm!" "M-me at a- a-" "Yeppers!" "B-but I can't-" "No need to thank me, Harvarella!" Prince Finn giggled, admiring the boy's astonished, almost elated expression. "After all, in a way, you're my best friend!" Harv stared at the boy a moment, completely taken with shock at this news. First he was invited to a royal ball. And then, he was dubbed the Prince's best friend. This was insane. "Wh-why-" Prince Finn shrugged. "Well, you ARE the only boy near my age I like to be around." Finn said matter of fact, smiling up at Harv. Suddenly, it fell into a frown. "We'll have to get you some proper attire though..." Harv listened as Finn made vocal mental notes, brushing a hand here and there every once in a while, his own mind drifting gently. 'I'm... going to a ball?' he thought, his heart skipping a beat. It was a secret of his, one that his own family had not been let in on. He, a warrior in training, destined to kill monsters and battle foes... Wanted to go to at least one ball. The thought of dancing, letting his feet lead him instead of his mind, was a dream. But the fact that he couldn't dance, and also the humiliation it would bring if he let others know, kept him from it. It was then, with a loud bang, that the Queen stomped in, raising an eyebrow at the sight of a dazed Harava- Harv and a surprised Finn standing right in front of the former. "Mommy! Hi!" Finn chirped, making her smile. "Hello, dear. Are you having fun with Harvarella?" "Oh, yes! Just trying to figure out what he can wear to the ball!" Finn giggled, not noticing the surprised look that came across his mother's face. "I was thinking a green suit? Perhaps-" "My dear!" the woman cut him off, chortling. "What a cute little joke!" "Huh?" both boys questioned, Harv being broken of his thoughts by the laugh. The Queen smiled. "Peasants, much less servants, are not allowed at the ball.” Harv’s eyes widened, his eyes darting towards the boy next to him, only to see he was shocked as he. But he quickly adopted a smile. “Oh… oh yes.” He agreed, his tone unsure as he moved over beside his mother, not meeting Harv’s eyes. “A-a joke…” Harv stared at the other for a moment, shocked to the core, before he remembered himself. This was the Prince. The moron he’d been forced to be with for a week. A WEEK. He was selfish. He was rich. Of course he had lied. He sent the blond a glare, making him flinch and look guiltily at the ground. With a ‘hmph’, Harv turned his back to them and continued to sweep, his cheeks burning in annoyance as the Queen laughed. “He’s moronic for thinking you were serious! Hee he!” she giggled, the snap of a fan opening letting him know she was covering her mouth. “Ah… Y-yes! Hoo ho…” Finn giggled weakly. ..:*:..:*:..:*:.. “Well… How do I look?” Harv looked up from his seat next to the Prince’s bed, his eyes landing on the-now-thirteen year old. He wore a formal, blue petticoat and a baise neckerchief tied around his neck. Under this, he wore an earth brown shirt-Harv wasn’t sure what kind it was, but he knew it was
expensive-and baise tights. His hair was coifed to have more flair and flips in it. He looked as mature as the moron could possibly be. “…Fine.” Harv grunted, before looking back to the ground. It was the night of Prince Finn’s birthday, where everyone invited in the kingdom would come and give him presents and dance and mingle. And Harv wished he was dead. He was going to spend the night in the Prince’s room, staring at nothing and cleaning anything that needed to be. “Good!” Finn chirped, before he looked into the full length mirror he stood in front of. He pulled at the edge of his petticoat gently. “I can’t wait, Harvarella!” he gushed, glancing over his shoulder. “Thirteen. Wow… I’m growing up so fast…” he murmured in glee, earning a grumble. “Oh, come on! It’s my birthday! Everyone should be happy on my birthday!” “Well, I’m not.” Harv snapped. Finn frowned at the other. “Is this about the whole ‘You can’t come,’ thing?” “No! I didn’t even want to go!” Harv growled. “Just- hurry up and go, Prince! Before I make you!” he threatened, making Finn squeak and rush out of his room. Harv sighed, walking over to the door and closing it, before he turned to face the horribly pink room. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his hands and slipped off the neckerchief he wore, scratching his head afterwards. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced out the window at the sound of a shriek and a whinny, smirking. That had to be the Prince, screaming at the sight of a horse. He snorted. ‘Moron’ Walking forward, he peered out the window and watched as Finn’s mother helped him into the carriage, the boy shivering terribly in fear. He watched as they rode off. The smirk fell from his face as the carriage drove out of sight, the boredom setting in quickly. He lifted his gaze to the sky, heaving out a sigh. He could almost imagine his friends in the stars, smiling and waving at him, laughing, thrusting teasingly with their swords. He missed them. He missed his family, as annoying as they were. It was then an idea struck him. He could sneak out! He could escape this hell hole! He could- It was then he realized that, one, there were at least one-hundred guards surrounding the area and he had no idea where his house was from here. With a growl, he pushed himself away from the window, furiously wiping at his eyes. What was wrong with him? Warriors didn’t cry. It had to be the dress, it was messing with him somehow… He soon found himself sitting on Prince Finn’s bed-screw the rules!-and pounding into his pillow. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!!” he cried out, his eyes watering. He hated his life! He wanted to get out of here! He wanted to get back home! When he finally stopped, his chest was heaving, his hair hanging in his face, gritting his teeth wildly. He buried his face in his hands. God, he was turning into a girl. He only raised his gaze from his hands as he noticed something shining brightly, making him squint his eyes. “…What the heck?” ..:*:..:*:..:*:.. “M-mommy…” Prince Finn whimpered, his eyes darting around at all the girls on the side lines, giggling at him as he clutched to the Queen. “Wh-why are there so many girls here?!” he exclaimed quietly. “Mommy just wants you to mingle, darling.” The woman cooed down at the boy. “And make sure to kiss them on the hand as they arrive.” He shook his head and hid behind her, his heart pounding in absolute fear, only to be pushed towards the stairs by his mother as a girl walked down the stairs, a burly man in tow. “Hi.” The girl in a pretty orange dress said shyly, smiling cheekily. Finn stared at her fearfully, before he looked over his shoulder to see his Mommy staring at him expectantly. He looked back at the girl and swallowed, taking a deep breath and smiling back. “W-welcome. I’m glad you could come.” He said, before he took the girl’s hand and kissed it gently. Once she went into the party, looking very flushed, Finn gagged and coughed, wiping his lips. Perfume. Tons of it that had a bad flavor had coated the girl’s gloves. It was disgusting… As the rest arrived, Finn
kissed their hands, making sure they were gone, before he gagged and wiped the cloying perfume from his lips, wincing in distaste. ‘I don’t know any of these girls! And they’re girls! I don’t like girls!’ he ranted as he kissed the tenth hand of the evening. He couldn’t wait until they got to the presents… When he finally- finally thought that was all the girls, a hush fell over the crowd. He looked around, before he looked up, wondering what they were staring at. At the sight of who stood at the top of the stairs, his brows furrowed and his heart skipped a beat. It was a girl, it seemed. She had dark, chocolate tresses that fell just underneath her shoulders; a pretty, silver tiara laid upon her head; a pink-squee! The same color as his bed!-dress with slightly puffy sleeves, delicate traces of white lace on the cuffs, ending at the elbows, and on the edge of the dress as well; a taffy underskirt laid under the delicious pink, and swayed with her as she walked down the stairs. Her skin was a caramel brown, and her eyes a nervous periwinkle blue. She was familiar, and yet not. ‘I would have remembered her…’ he thought, his lavender eyes following her as she approached him, looking nervous and trying to hide her face a bit with her bare hands. All the other girls had worn gloves. He himself walked up a few steps as the girl started to reach the bottom. His heart pounded quicker as the girl looked at him, never mind the ultimate look of fear she bore. He’d never felt so compelled to talk to a girl before, and it was terrifying, truth be told, especially since he could swear he had seen her before. “Hi.” He said, stepping up to the slightly taller girl. He watched as her eyes darted around. “Uh… hey?” her tone was questioning. Finn felt elation light up inside him when she didn’t giggle or freak out at seeing him. “I’m… glad you could come.” He said, before he took the girl’s hand and leaned in, pausing at the natural scent of earth come from her, staring into her uncomfortable gaze. After a moment, before leaned forward and kissed her cheek, inhaling the gentle earthy scent, his cheeks tinting slightly as he did so. ..:*:..:*:..:*:.. Harv cringed and closed his eyes as his cheek was kissed, his hand held in the Prince’s own, annoyance and embarrassment filling him, his cheeks darkening considerably. How did this happen? One second, he was talking to a woman who had appeared out of nowhere, and the next, he was here in a dress, getting kissed by the Prince. Thank god he hadn’t recognized him- but still. When the other pulled away, he looked shocked, before he shook his head and smiled nervously. “Would… would you like to dance, princess?” he questioned, making Harv’s heart flutter, before he shook his head, the annoying curls brushing his cheek. “No, I don’t know how to-“ “Nonsense! I’ll teach you!” Prince Finn chirped, before he pulled Harv out onto the dance floor, where people had resumed dancing. He stopped and stared at Harv a moment, before he moved his free hand and took Harv’s, setting it on his shoulder. “Put your hand like this…” he murmured, then slid his hand down to rest on Harv’s hip, making his eyes widen. “And now, we’ll start by swaying…” he instructed, moving gently with the boy, who was trying to decipher properly what was happening. He was with the Prince. Being touched, and led gently into a ballroom dance. Soon, they were swirling across the dance floor, Finn smiling up at him. “That’s it! You’ve got it! You know, you really took onto this quickly.” He complimented, making Harv shrug. “Er, thanks…” “I mean, it took me weeks before I caught on. At the time, I was three and I had a sparkle in my eye. The day before, I had been at the circus with my Mommy, and I had wandered off. It was then that they brought out a rabid horse! Well, let me tell you, I didn’t have a sparkle in my eye after that!” he ranted, making Harv’s brows furrow in annoyance and confusion. “What? Wait, what does that have to do with dance-” “And another time, when I discovered music, oh it was marvelous!” he
continued, making Harv stare at him, kind of freaked out by the conversation hopping. “Blah Blah.” ‘What am I doing here?’ Harv though to himself, glaring at the ranting Prince. “Blah Blah.” He raised an eyebrow. ‘He just goes on and on…’ “Blah Blah.” ‘I don’t even like him! He makes me feel sick! Uggh… I miss my home! Please tell me it’s almost midnight!’ he thought, looking at the clock, only to be brought back to attention at the Prince’s words, his periwinkle eyes widening as he snapped them back to the blond. “You’re a listener.” He leaned up close, his lids lowering. “I LIKE that.” Shivers ran up and down Harv’s spine, before he ripped his hands from the other’s. “I-” he thanked god as the clock chimed twelve. “I have to go.” He said, backing up from the other, who looked surprised. “But-” “No buts! Just-” he turned from the Prince and was about to rush off, only for his hand to be grabbed. “Wait! Please! Stay! I- I really like you!” Finn exclaimed, burying his face into the back of Harv’s neck, puffing warm air and making his hair stand on end. “At least tell me your name…” “…It’s… Erm… H-harvarella.” He stuttered out, making the Prince let go. “I named a servant of mine by that name… *gasp* You-” Harv cringed, before he ran off, not wanting his outfit to deteriorate and show everyone who he was. ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. Harv sighed pleasantly as he stood straight, wiping his forehead and smiling into the sky. God, it was good to be home. He had been returned by that woman a week ago, and had received hugs and kisses galore. His friends the next day had punched his arm and commented on the few curls left in his hair. Stretching, he laughed as he fell back into the dirt. The firewood was cut and his brothers were being taken care of by his mother today. That meant he could relax. Absently, he lifted a hand and fingered a curl. It was something to remember that bratty Prince by… ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. A blond stared, googly eyed, at some pictures he snatched from his Mommy, laid on the bed, and a new one taken a week prior of a pretty girl in a pink dress. ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. Harv wondered… if he’d ever see him again… ‘No. That’s not possible…’ he thought, smirking. He was a free man. And he wouldn’t ever see the moron again. ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. Prince Finn sighed and gazed lovingly at the picture. “Harvarella…” he murmured, letting his fingers run against the most recent photo. “*sigh*…” it was then he sat up. “I’ll meet you again…” he murmured, “But first! I need to become a bard! I can’t wait to go in a month!
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mitchbeck · 2 years
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CANTLON: BLAINE STOUGHTON CHERISHES HIS TIME IN HARTFORD
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BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - For just the second time in his post-playing career, and the first time at Dunkin' Donuts Park, Blaine Stoughton was back to Hart City, a place he still holds many fond memories of. Dunkin' Donuts Park is the home of the Eastern League Hartford Yard Goats, the affiliate of the Colorado Rockies, Stoughton's first visit was the infamous Whale Bowl outdoor game on a frigid Saturday in 2011. "(His time in Hartford) was the biggest and most successful part of my career. Our kids were born here, and the fans were great to me, and I love coming back here," Stoughton said. STASH Before arriving in Hartford, he was the first seventh overall pick of the Pittsburgh Penguins in the early 1970s. He was known as 'Stash' in his playing days for his well-manicured hair above his lip. He came out of one of the time's great junior franchises, the Flin Flon (Manitoba) Bombers (WCHL now WHL). His teammates included Bob Clarke and Reggie Leach, whom he played with in his first junior year. "Some of the young guys here don't know my nickname, but my old teammates sure do. I always knew I could score since I was ten years old. I always knew I could score, and you never acted like you were better than everybody else. You can learn from everybody you watch in practice. You can't be jealous of others. To have a Reggie (Leach) there my first year - he had 60 goals (65) - I learned a lot," Stoughton said on a sultry Saturday night. A SPEARING LESSON An ill-advised spear in his second season of juniors cost him a 29-game league suspension. The length and severity of the suspension in the early 1970s hockey taught Stoughton an early and valuable lesson about his stick. He would cross the century mark only once more in his entire hockey career after that. Stoughton blossomed in his third year of junior. He led the league in goals (60) and points (126) and came on also the scout's radars as a WCHL First Team All-Star. In his last year of juniors, he tallied 54 markers and 115 points. He was not only selected by the Penguins but also the Quebec Nordiques of the rabble-rousing, upstart-league, the WHA, in their draft on June 12, 1973. They took him in the second round (#14). That year the league had only twelve teams. His first year in the NHL didn't go as well as expected, and he was sent down to the Hershey Bears (AHL). Stoughton responded to the demotion and answered back quickly. RESPONDING TO A DEMOTION "I was young. We had like only five married guys on the team. I enjoyed the night life, a little too much my first year. We had fun. I learned a lot in those three years though. I promised I would change when I got another crack." And he did. Stoughton was shipped off to the Toronto Maple Leafs just before training camp on September 13, 1974, with future considerations for Rick Kehoe. "I knew this was a business about money and results." Stoughton, who approached his career as a business, got a Ph.D. in mid-70s hockey economics from Maple Leafs' owner Harold Ballard, who was known for his unwillingness to spend money. "He was…" as Stoughton calculated his response, "tough to deal with,. (He was) very controlling, kinds like George Steinbrenner was, but at least he would pay you," quipped the one-time right winger. Ballard's treatment of players and his general business practices were instrumental in creating a need for a player's union. POST BALLARD After two years, Stoughton was low-balled by Ballard and was re-sent to the minors to Oklahoma City in the old Central League. Stoughton responded by taking his talents to the WHA's Cincinnati Stingers. They acquired his rights in the 1976 WHA Expansion Draft, and a memorable bee logo and their yellow uniforms. "It was an easy call. They (Cincinnati) offered me $75,000, and in those days, that was a lot of money and the length of the deal (three years) and no way Ballard was gonna pay me that much to stay or even try to match it and I found the right spot." The junior 'Stash came out in his now hometown his first year. He produced 52 goals and led a hot, young scoring team that featured Richie Leduc, current Florida senior advisor and former Nighthawks coach Rick Dudley, former junior opponent and scorer Dennis Sobchuk, and another WCHL product, Dennis Abgrall. "Off the ice was the biggest change, on the ice I got put with the right people when we were down by a goal, we could put our line out there and score two or three," remarked the former 50-goal scorer who played with Leduc and fellow WHA-NHL draftee, who later played for the Nighthawks and Rangers as well, Claude Larose. Another trio was sometimes formed with Rick Dudley with the humorous line tag-the LSD line. THE LSD LINE He became a financial casualty and frustrated by new coach Jacques Demers's defense-first philosophy in Cincy. He was sent to the Indianapolis Racers with Gilles Marrotte for Byron Baltimore and Hugh Harris in December 1977. He lasted a year in Indy, and in another cash move the Racers dealt him to the Whalers for Dave Inkpen and the cash they badly needed just before the team folded. Stoughton arrived for the last season of the WHA in Hartford. First, he played in the iconic kelly-green uniforms emblazoned with the harpoon Whaler logo. He was living every Canadian boy's dream. He took the ice with legends Dave Keon, Johnny McKenzie (#19), who's retired to the XL Center rafters, Andre Lacroix, the all-time WHA points leader, Bobby Hull, and "Mr. Hockey," Gordie Howe. Three important things happened to him in Hartford. The first was he met his wife, Cindy. The second was being taken in the expansion draft away from the hated Toronto Maple Leafs, who still owned his NHL rights, by the Whalers as part of the terms of the merger. He also got hooked up with a former WCHL top scorer and centerman, Mike Rogers (Calgary). It was a match made for him as the Whaler duo proved the NHL thinking of the day that WHA players couldn't hack it in the NHL was wrong. SECOND CHANCES In his second crack in the NHL, Stoughton collected 100 points, second to Rogers 105 that first year. Rogers equaled the mark the following year, and Stoughton, two years later, eclipsed the 50-goal mark again and led the team in scoring. "The biggest thing? That was meeting Cindy. It changed my lifestyle. We're still together and had two great kids. (I) stopped going out as much and now have four grandchildren, and hooking up with Mike and then Ronnie (Francis) were two very important elements of my success." He had his secret formula. "I always kept my secret to myself, didn't tell anyone, even my teammates. I drove some of my coaches crazy, but I could weave my game to what the coaches wanted. The secret was to get open, and somebody feeds you the puck. Mike could do that. "We developed some good chemistry together." Stoughton, Rogers, and Pat Boutette formed the Dash, Bash, and Stash line in an era where line nicknames were common. Stoughton led the NHL along with Danny Gare (Buffalo) and Charlie Simmer (Los Angeles) from its famed "Kings Triple Crown Line" with 56 goals and won the Maurice "Rocket" Richard Trophy as the NHL's top goal scorer. He's in the record books with Hull as the ONLY two players to score 50 goals in the NHL and WHA. Nope, not even Gretzky did that. ROGERS-STOUGHTON As a pair, Rogers-Stoughton was right up there with Gretzky-Kurri, Trottier-Bossy, and Lemaire-Lafleur as one of the premier dynamic duos of the NHL in the late 1970s and early 1980s. He started a four-year run of 40-plus goals as he would lead the Whalers in goal scoring and be in the top five in points. He went to his only NHL All-Star game in LA in the 1981-82 season. In the entire Whaler time of 25 years, the mark of Rogers 105 and Stoughton's 56 still stand as team records. Mark Howe set the WHA—NHL mark of 107 in the last year of the WHA. Only two other players in the WHA surpassed 100 points for the Whalers. They are all-time WHA Whalers points leader, the late Tom "Hawkeye" Webster (103) and Terry Caffrey (100) in the first season in Boston. The only other player to come close in points was NHL Hall of Famer Seattle GM Ron Francis (101) in his last full season in Hartford before his infamous trade to the Pittsburgh Penguins. Eric Staal had 100 in Carolina's 2005 Stanley Cup win with the Hurricanes. In his only season in Hartford, Toronto Maple Leafs' Team President Brendan Shanahan came the closest to Stoughton's mark with 44 in 1995-96. Geoff Sanderson came close twice with 46 and 41. REUNITED WITH ROGERS When the magic was leaving Stoughton's stick, and with the Whalers fading, he was traded to the New York Rangers for Scot Kleinendorst. There he was reunited with Rogers at MSG. "I never complained. I had some back issues at that time that impacted my game, and it wasn't an operational situation. The Rangers were very good to me and my wife, and we realized we were at the end of the line." It was a short-lived ride, and when his NHL career ended after 546 games with nearly a point-a-game average (449), Stoughton proved he could play in the NHL. He ended the North American portion of his playing career with the New Haven Nighthawks. He played sixty games at the old New Haven Coliseum, potting 20 goals. He took off a year and finished overseas with then HC Asiago in Italy. After his career ended, he was inducted into the Manitoba Sports Hall of Fame. "We had so much fun over there (Italy). It was a lot of fun. The hockey was very different over there." LAWLESS He dabbled in coaching in his post-playing career. Stoughton was an assistant coach for the Cincinnati Cyclones (IHL) in the league's first year and during the last two years in the ECHL. That tenure saw the memorable signing of a former teammate in Hartford, Paul Lawless, from the woe begotten New Haven Senators (AHL). Lawless basically released himself by getting tossed in his last game of a 20-game PTO. The ejection came just 37 seconds into that game. Lawless called the referee every name in the book and skedaddled to Cincinnati, where Stoughton had an excellent IHL deal waiting for him. The pair went into ownership and management for five years in the old independent minor league WPHL along the I-5 corridor in the American Southwest with the first edition of hockey in the Texas capital with the remarkable logo of the Austin (TX) Ice Bats. They were co-owners, GM, and the coach at various times. HARTFORD WOLF PACK HOME Read the full article
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
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For a prompt, what if Wen Xu arrives to burn down the Cloud Recesses while everyone is studying there
Home Alone - ao3
“All right,” Wei Wuxian said, when Lan Qiren announced that the Cloud Recesses would be imminently under attack by Wen Xu and the Wen sect armies, the calm in his monotone voice belied by the wrinkle of concern in his forehead. “We’re going to make that bastard wish he’d never been born, right?”
He was speaking lightly, as he always did, trying to make those around him feel more comfortable, braver, less afraid – his was the language of confidence and arrogance, of never backing down, and he didn’t know how else to speak.
He didn’t mean anything in particular by it, or at least not more than he usually did.
He wasn’t expecting Lan Qiren to look at him and say, “If you have any ideas, now is the time to contribute them.”
-
“So what exactly do you do again?” Wei Wuxian asked, following the older Lan sect disciple around – at least, the man was dressed like a Lan sect disciple, and with a forehead ribbon suggesting that he shared blood with the main clan, too, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t so sure he really was one.
“I blow stuff up, usually,” Lan Yueheng said cheerfully.
That was why Wei Wuxian had doubts.
The man was practically skipping. There was no way he was a Lan.
“Shishu is an alchemist,” Lan Wangji said. His hands were folded behind his back, as always, and he looked tense as might be expected, what with an imminent attack on his home by a colossal army intent on ravaging and destroying everything in its path – but the way he looked at Lan Yueheng was unaccountably fond, as if he were someone he was close to. Wei Wuxian hadn’t known there was anyone other than Lan Qiren or Lan Xichen that Lan Wangji was close to. He was oddly jealous. “Not always successfully.”
“Hey, at blowing things up, I am the most successful!” Lan Yueheng grinned. A moment later, though, the grin faded, and he looked anxious. “Wangji, are you sure you won’t go with your brother?”
“Brother will protect the sect books,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. “I will stay here to defend the sect and the guest disciples.”
Wei Wuxian appreciated that, being one of said guest disciples.
Anyway, it made sense. Lan Qiren had seriously considered trying to send them away with Lan Xichen, saying that their lives were more important than some extra books – other Lan elders hadn’t necessarily agreed, judging by their expressions – but regretfully concluded that adding more people to Lan Xichen’s escape route would do nothing but reveal its existence, dooming all of them.
So they’d split up: Lan Xichen, heading out virtually alone with the most precious Lan sect books, and all the rest of them here to try to resist as much as they could – even Lan Wangji.
Lan Yueheng didn’t try to argue with Lan Wangji, only sighed, sounding as though he’d expected nothing less from him and had only felt the need to make a token protest before accepting it as inevitable. It seemed he really was close to Lan Wangji.
Yeah, Wei Wuxian was definitely jealous.
“All right, then,” Lan Yueheng said, shaking his head and resuming his cheer. “Blowing things up in self-defense plan it is! You’re both talented in music, right?”
“What does music have to do with explosions?” Wei Wuxian asked.
-
The answer, apparently, was a lot – at least when you were an experimental alchemist in a musically inclined sect and you’d developed a way to trigger explosions via certain combinations of musical notes.
-
“So, did you know that Teacher Lan was scary?” Wei Wuxian asked Jiang Cheng, who’d finally returned from helping get all the elderly and children and civilians to evacuate – and refusing to join them, of course, even though he was entitled to go in order to preserve his life, being the heir of a sect and all that, completely typical Jiang Cheng – and was now pacing around, eager for a fight.
“Just because he punished you a few times doesn’t make him scary,” Jiang Cheng said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “You know what does make him scary? Playing music that makes his opponents try to cut their own necks.”
“…what?”
“Apparently he gets really upset when you mess with his students,” Wei Wuxian said wisely.
Unlike Jiang Cheng, he’d had time to adjust to the concept of Lan Qiren being terrifying: they were on the fifth wave of scouts, and this set wasn’t doing any better than the first four, not even when they’d realized it would be better if they stopped their ears with wax before approaching.
That’d only made Lan Qiren shift tactics – and songs.
Some of which had an even wider area of impact.
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said, looking at him suspiciously. “What did you do?”
“I convinced Teacher Lan that guerrilla warfare that destroyed as much of the enemy as possible would be more effective than just trying to defend the sect’s territory, since that was clearly a lost cause,” Wei Wuxian said promptly. “He agreed, but said that he could only do so much since he wasn’t a very good sword fighter. And then I asked him if he knew anything else that could be used as an attack and he said ‘no’ and then he said ‘well, I suppose’ and then he listed off a few things that – according to him – aren’t meant to be used in warfare but, and this is a direct quote, ‘could be put to a destructive use if one so wished it’.”
“And we now ‘so wish it’?”
“Yup. Oh, and watch out for anything that has a Lan sect cloud with a three-looped circle carved into the side of it, and I do mean anything– those explode.”
“Of course they do.”
“Hey! For once it has nothing to do with me!”
-
“I thought you said he said he was bad at swordfighting,” Jiang Cheng said suspiciously.
Wei Wuxian held out his hands helplessly in a ‘don’t look at me’ gesture, trying to defend himself from a sharp and pointy elbow to the side while also not pulling his eyes away from the ongoing battlefield for even a single moment.
“Shufu considers himself to be of average skill at the sword,” Lan Wangji said in the peaceable tone of someone who had been taught the basics of swordfighting by the person in question. The basics of really awesome swordfighting. “His real strength is in music, as you’ve seen.”
“I get that, really, I do, his music is terrifying,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it completely. Between the two, he’d rather go up against Lan Qiren with a sword, where he’d at least be able to make a decent showing of himself before getting chopped to bits by the man’s fluid and almost seemingly delicate style that was nevertheless highly effective at skewering Wen sect disciples left and right; it would be better than with music, where he might as well just cut his own throat or strangle himself with guqin strings now to save Lan Qiren’s fingers the trouble. “But Jiang Cheng’s still right, okay – why in the world does he consider that to be ‘average’? Who is he comparing himself to?”
Lan Wangji considered the question for a long moment, then finally said: “A statistical outlier.”
-
“I wish we had aerial attacks we could use against the Wen sect’s swords,” Wei Wuxian said wistfully, and next to him Jiang Cheng nodded with a sight of longing – it was so frustrating seeing more and more Wen sect soldiers arriving in groups, like flocks of birds that started to fill the skies because they couldn’t be so easily shot down. “But if we try anything, they’ll just shield against us.”
“Teacher Lan said we can’t use spiritual energy against them, since we’d lose,” Jiang Cheng said, and as much as they all regretted it, Lan Qiren was probably right: they might be better trained than the Wen sect soldiers, might be better cultivators and stronger in spiritual energy individually, but they were young and immature, and at a serious numerical disadvantage.
It would be far too easy for the flying cultivators to stop their flying just long enough to set up a defensive array, block whatever spiritual attack they sent out, and then keep going to find and stab them before they’d even recovered from the energy expenditure.
“I didn’t mean spiritual energy,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “I just meant, you know, like the explosives we’ve laid in all over the ground – something like that. If we could attach those to something…”
“I don’t think we have anything that flies anyway,” Lan Yueheng said regretfully.
“You have lanterns, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang said, and everyone turned to look at him. “Fill them with something that explodes when disturbed and send them floating into the air. Better yet, write ‘peace’ on the side of them to make it look like you’re making some sort of meaningful gesture designed to shame them. The Wen sect won’t be able to resist kicking them aside as an insult, and that’ll trigger them.”
They all stared at him.
He shrugged.
“We have a lot of defenses set up against invasion, at home,” he said. “And not always the budget to pay for anything fancy, so we’ve come up with some slightly more unorthodox ideas, too.”
“It’s a really good idea,” Wei Wuxian said, suddenly focused on the hitherto ignored Nie Huaisang. Clearly he’d made a tactical error, thinking of himself as the only person who knew how to get up to tricks. “Do you have any other ideas like that?”
Nie Huaisang smiled.
-
“Teacher Lan, I have an idea,” Wei Wuxian said, inserting himself briefly into the clearing near the Lan sect gate where Lan Qiren was sitting to rest in preparation for the Wen sect’s next attack. “But you’re going to hate it.”
“You may proceed,” Lan Qiren said, not looking up.
“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said, blinking. “Really? You’re not even going to ask what it is? Or why you’d hate it so much?”
“There is no time for that,” Lan Qiren said, and finally spared him a glance. He looked tired. “Things will get worse very soon.”
“But we’re winning!”
“No,” Lan Qiren said, shaking out his fingers – even despite occasionally alternating to using the sword when necessary, he’d played his guqin to the point of drawing blood and breaking nails, and was continuing despite everyone pleading with him to stop and swap out for someone else for a while. He’d said that there was no one else on his level, and he was probably right, but still, surely, just for a little… “We are surviving. Do not mistake the two.”
-
“Okay, so,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his hands together. “Resentful energy –”
“No,” Lan Wangji said.
-
“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian said to Jin Zixuan, who’d probably just saved his life by stabbing a Wen sect cultivator in the back right before the man had been able to stop Wei Wuxian from activating another series of explosions. “I guess I owe you one?”
“Don’t mention it,” Jin Zixuan said. “How else can I help?”
“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian said, scratching his head and thinking about Nie Huaisang as precedent. There wasn’t time for schoolyard rivalries right now. “Do you have anything really unexpected that could be used to hurt people? Be creative – they’re guarded against all the usual defenses, so the weirder the better, anything goes. I won’t judge.”
Jin Zixuan thought about it. “I’m pretty sure I have a drug that puts people to sleep?”
“…why do you have something like that?”
Jin Zixuna grimaced. “My father gave it to me along with another one that he said not to use in excess, though I don’t actually know what that one does because that was about when my mom ran in and started throwing things at him. I can’t throw it away because it was a gift from my father, but I put it as deep into my bags as I could so that I’d never have to see or touch it. Ever.”
Wei Wuxian’s nose wrinkled. He’d never before felt pity for Jin Zixuan, but having to put up with Jin Guangshan on a regular basis was pretty bad – much less owing him filial piety.
No wonder Jin Zixuan was so twitchy all the time.
“Okay, so one sleep drug and one…uh…”
“Enhancement. Presumably. Can we throw it at the other side? Maybe turn it into incense and make smoke-bombs or something?”
“You know what,” Wei Wuxian said. “Why not? If nothing else, it’d be distracting, right?”
-
“This doesn’t feel honorable,” Jiang Cheng said, watching the fun. They’d raided the Lan sect’s medicine cabinets and kitchens for other noxious and irritating substances that might make for good smoke-bombs – Jiang Cheng himself had even located a whole patch of something not unlike poison ivy that had been quickly repurposed for the cause. “Strictly speaking.”
“Honor’s overrated,” Wei Wuxian said. “Making the Wen bastards pay for attacking Lan Zhan’s home is what’s important.”
Lan Wangji didn’t smile, exactly, but Wei Wuxian took his expression as a win regardless.
-
It turned out that music could also make plants grow really fast.
According to Lan Qiren, the spell ruined the plants’ nutritional value and made them basically useless.
Well.
Useless if your goal was eating them, anyway.
(First they could grow under their enemies’ feet and attack them, roots and vines twining around them to strangle them, and then they could be used up in the smoke-bombs – two for the price of one!)
-
“Are you sure about not doing the whole resentful energy thing?”
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said. “No.”
-
“Hey, Wei-xiong, do you have or can you create any more papermen?” Jin Zixuan asked.
“Yes, sure, plenty,” Wei Wuxian said. He’d like to say that he’d known he’d one day need such a skill, and that that was why he’d learned the trick so thoroughly, but that was a complete lie. “Why?”
“Nie-xiong, Jiang-xiong and I are going to use them to make a shadow-play to lure a bunch of Wen sect cultivators into another plant-and-explosives trap.”
“…that’s amazing, Jin-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said, marveling. “How do you even think of that?”
“Even I get into trouble sometimes,” Jin Zixuan said, and was startled into an unexpected smile when Jiang Cheng punched his shoulder approvingly.
-
Wei Wuxian was actually having a pretty good time with it all right up until the main force of the Wen sect decided to ignore all their traps and charge straight towards the classroom they’d fallen back to using as a headquarters, and then suddenly he wasn’t having a good time at all.
“Run,” Lan Qiren said, and put down his guqin, drawing his sword once more.
“But we can fight!” Jiang Cheng argued.
“Run.”
“Shufu –”
“Run.”
They ran.
-
“If you don’t come out, I’m going to make him pay,” Wen Xu called.
His fingers were knotted in Lan Qiren’s hair, pulling their teacher’s head back to show how his face was covered in blood, how it was seeping out through his mouth and nose, how one of his eyes was badly bruised and swollen from having been beaten down by sheer force of numbers.
Lan Qiren had made them pay dearly for their efforts to bring him down –
But there were just so many of them.
“How dare he,” Jiang Cheng hissed. “He was once one of Teacher Lan’s students, too!”
Wei Wuxian was holding Lan Wangji back, but only barely; his fingers were starting to go numb from the sheer effort of it. If Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng weren’t there to help him hold him down, Lan Wangji would have already given away their position, rushing out to make some futile gesture in his overwhelming rage. Wei Wuxian was focusing with all his being on how much he had to stop Lan Wangji from doing something like that, because if he wasn’t, if he let himself think about anything else for even a single moment, he’d have also run out there, sword drawn, without so much as a care – he hadn’t realized he’d be so angry over it, so furious, so betrayed and horrified by Wen Xu’s cruelty.
Prior to today, he wouldn’t have said he even liked Lan Qiren!
“My students are not so foolish as to fall for so obvious a scheme as that,” Lan Qiren said, his tone as monotonous as it ever was during his lectures – for the briefest moment, Wei Wuxian felt that he was dreaming, that he had merely dreamt everything that had happened: surely it was still yesterday, with Lan Qiren standing tall, safe and healthy, at the front of the classroom, lecturing about one of the Lan sect rules…which one had it been? Shoulder the weight of morality? Have a strong will and anything can be achieved? Be mighty, and others will die for you?
Do not break faith?
Somehow, despite everything that had happened, Lan Qiren’s eyes curved ever so slightly.
“Present company excluded, of course.”
Wen Xu threw him down to the ground, mouth twisting and teeth gnashing with offended anger.
“Beat him,” he ordered his men. “Make it hurt. I want him screaming – let’s see how his precious students like that. Or maybe it’s just that they don’t care?”
-
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, eyes red with unshed tears and barely swallowed rage. “Tell me your idea about resentful energy.”
-
“Perhaps,” Lan Qiren said, then paused briefly to cough up some blood. His voice, when he resumed speaking, was hoarse. “Perhaps I should have reviewed your idea more closely when you first proposed it.”
“Possibly,” Wei Wuxian said, offering up some cloth to help wipe away the blood. Lan Wangji was busy bandaging his uncle’s injuries up, while Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Nie Huaisang hovered by the door, only barely pretending to be keeping a lookout the way they were supposed to. “In my defense, I didn’t quite expect…that.”
Everyone politely did not ask him to elaborate.
The effects had been…well, it turned out using resentful energy the way Wei Wuxian had thought was possible, to say the least, and also that they’d taken down an awful lot of Wen sect soldiers in their defensive efforts.
“You will all have been affected by the resentful energy you used to summon the corpses,” Lan Qiren said. “Although the method you devised appears to avoid the most immediate consequences, which – let me remind you – include qi deviation and death in some instances, there is always the possibility that it has left traces of resentful energy within your meridians. If it is allowed to build up, it will escalate into a backlash that would rip your body and soul to pieces. There are spells and songs that can help clear your spirits and ease the effects.”
“Nie Huaisang has been playing some of them for us, since he can’t fight,” Lan Wangji said. “Nie sect ones – they’re…uh, not especially calming, more of a cleanse-by-force thing, but they seem to be working.”
Jiang Cheng nodded. “We’ll listen to any others that you’d like, Teacher Lan,” he said, anxious, and the rest of them nodded. “Just say which ones. If there’s any array or anything – or if you want us to write an essay about why using resentful energy is dangerous and wrong –”
Even Wei Wuxian nodded at that – even Nie Huaisang nodded, and he hated essays more than anything.
Lan Qiren huffed lightly. “Now you’re all so obedient.”
They all bowed their heads.
“…you did a good job,” Lan Qiren finally said, and they all looked up to stare at him. “You rescued me and repelled the Wen sect, however temporarily. Even though you used demonic cultivation, which is forbidden, you did not purposefully disturb graves, and you can make recompense to the spirits later. It was well done, and I thank you for it.”
He noticed that they were gaping and frowned at them.
“What have I taught you?” he scolded, and he sounded enough like he normally did that Wei Wuxian had the sudden urge to burst into totally inexplicable tears. “The preservation of human life is the priority, always. Why is this a surprise?”
“Shufu is right,” Lan Wangji said, and there was something of peace and calm in his eyes, the foundation of his world steady and unfaltering – he was almost glowing with it, satisfied and happy, and he was so utterly beautiful in Wei Wuxian’s eyes that it was almost blinding. “We acknowledge Teacher’s words.”
“We acknowledge Teacher’s words,” everyone else quickly agreed.
Lan Qiren shook his head, nodding in appreciation. “What is your next step now?” he asked. “The Wen sect was only repulsed, not defeated. They will not be gone long – they are already regrouping outside our gate, and this time they will be prepared for the effects of your demonic cultivation. In the end, they still have the advantage of numbers.”
“I don’t think we got as far as that in our plan,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing the back of his head.
His thinking had mostly stopped at get Teacher Lan back and make them pay. He was pretty sure the same was true for Lan Wangji, and probably all the rest of the, too.
“Maybe you didn’t,” Nie Huaisang said with a sniff, and damnit, Wei Wuxian really needed to stop underestimating him just because he was a bad cultivator and a bit empty-headed. “I, on the other hand, sent a message back to my da-ge way back when this first started, and he should be here very soon with an army of his own.”
-
There were those in the Jiang sect that liked to mock the Nie sect as being unduly paranoid, always preparing for war and speaking grimly of its inevitability, always training their disciples and soldiers as if each one of them would need to fight five or ten of the enemy at once.
If Wei Wuxian ever met any of those people ever again, he was going to punch them in the face.
“Just be sure to get your sect ready when you get back,” Nie Mingjue advised them all grimly when it was all done and Wen Xu’s head was stuck on a pike at the entrance to the Cloud Recesses as a warning. The Nie sect’s forces were smaller than the Wen sect’s invasion force, but their people were better trained; even after flying all the way from Qinghe, they’d come down on the remaining invasion force like a hammer. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”
“We understand. There is still war to come.”
“Not just war, but uneven and unbalanced war, and not in our favor,” Nie Mingjue said heavily. “Understand that even with this loss, the forces of all the cultivation world put together can’t match up to the armies under Wen Ruohan’s command.”
“Actually,” Lan Qiren said, and gave all of his students a pointed look, probably on account of the fact that they all still owed him the essay they'd promised to write, “I think you’ll find that there’s something more that we can add…”
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missymurphy1985 · 2 years
Text
The Unrequited (Cillian Murphy X fem!reader - One Shot)
Warning - smut
Requested? Yep ☺️
Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho
"It's no problem Cillian, honestly! I'm happy to have him!" Your phone to your ear while you quickly tidied up the house.
You'd known Cillian since university - both of you studying law, but of course only one of you actually completing the course. Your friendship had lasted though. You were the only person he trusted with his husky, Scout, when he was away filming. He made the mistake of leaving him with his brother once because you were on holiday at the same time he was due to be away - but he had young children and the dog was a little on the boisterous side. Not in a bad way, just a 'hyperactive, play with me every five seconds' kinda way that suited you perfectly. You adored that fluffy nutcase. Taking him for long walks in the Irish countryside, before snuggling with him on the sofa in the evening with a glass of wine.
Yes, you would take care of him for three months while Cillian was away filming series one of Peaky Blinders.
You called your dad, who ran the law firm you worked for, and explained that Scout would be joining you for three months - you didn't have any court appearances due, so he was happy for you to work from home.
A few days after that initial phone call, Cillian was at your door with Scout and a bag of his food, treats, and toys. You already had a bed for him and blankets from the last time he stayed with you.
"I'm so sorry for the short notice y/n, you know what the BBC are like!"
"It's fine honestly! You know my Dad - he loves it when we work from home. Doesn't have to pay as much electric in the office!" You laughed. He laughed with you, and you felt your heart beat a little faster. Putting your game face on, he had no idea how you truly felt about him, and he would never know either.
"You have everything you need? Passport, plane tickets, hotel booking confirmation?"
"Yes, mother, I have it all."
"Just making sure!"
"What would I do without you eh?" He pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek. You loved it when he did that, but also wished he didn't...
"Go, your flight won't wait for you!"
He ruffled Scout's fur and gave him a hug, before heading off to the airport. You unpacked the food, toys and treats, finding a bottle of expensive red wine at the bottom of the bag.
"He never forgets," you smiled.
************************************************************
Your days had been filled with alternating an hour of work with an hour of playing with Scout, then taking him for a long walk by the Liffey. The kids on your regular walk all fussing over him each day you walked past them. He was such a good boy - perfect around children and even other dogs. He was an absolute dream to be around. Just like his owner...
Shaking off the rain from your coat as you stepped back into your house, you couldn't quite believe how quickly the time had gone by. Cillian would be home tomorrow morning, and arranged to pick Scout up on his way back from the airport. He'd called daily, not to check on Scout, he said he knew his boy was in capable hands, but to see you both and have some semblance of normality while he was there. Seeing him in his smart suit, his hair shaved at the sides, you couldn't deny he looked incredible.
You settled on the sofa, Scout at your side chewing on a rubber bone you'd bought him earlier that day.
Your phone rang, your best friend Hayley. She had known you longer than Cillian, your best friend since primary school, and was the only one you'd ever confessed your true feelings to.
After ten minutes of general chit chat...
"No, Hayls, I haven't told him."
"Why?!"
"Oh come on, I'm not blind! Have you seen the girls he dates? Leggy, skinny... Look at his ex! Some model from London! He's clearly got a type, and I'm not it."
"Girl he adores you, it's so obvious."
"As a friend, yes, but nothing more. I'm the dependable one, the one he can rely on to look after his dog."
"Yes, you're dependable, but not just as a dog-sitter. He can trust you. He tells you everything, and he knows you'll never judge him for it."
"I love how your imagination works love. I've gotta go, movie's starting and Scout is glaring at me for ignoring him." She laughed and left you to your cosy night in with Cillian's dog.
As the opening sequence rolled, Scout lay in your lap, your hand stroking over his soft fur.
"Your human is pretty special, isn't he Scout?"
He looked up and you and tilted his head.
"Why can't I just tell him, huh? Just tell him how I feel? How my heart leaps when I see his name flash on my phone? How I get butterflies when I see him? How I know that a woman like me will never compete with the girls he likes?"
He tilted his head again.
"Oh come on, you daft fluffball, you know what I'm talking about! I've got more curves than a country road. I don't even wear mascara unless I'm in court. I live in sweatpants and PJs. I prefer a night in to a night out. Reading a book, not hitting the town. He'd never look at me as more than that frumpy, dependable, boring y/n." You felt tears prick the backs of your eyes, and Scout, bless him, nuzzled into you.
"At least you love me, don't you boy?"
"Is that what you think?"
You turned sharply, panic replacing the sadness, as you looked in your living room doorway and saw Cillian stood there, bottle of wine in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other. A small smile on his face.
"Shit, Cillian... I didn't..."
"Got back early. Wanted to surprise you. And yet, I'm the one who's surprised."
You felt so embarrassed, such a fool...
"I... I'm sorry, I didn't... How did you get in?"
"Door wasn't locked."
"Oh.. um.."
"Listen," he placed the wine and flowers down on the dining table in the next room. Scout ran to him and he fussed over him for a few moments, giving you time to relax your heart before it exploded in your chest. He pulled out a bone he must've picked up on the way and sent him off with it in your kitchen to keep him occupied. He looked up at you, and you immediately looked to the floor, your head falling into your hands.
"I'm sorry, I must've had too many glasses of wine and - "
He was beside you in seconds, pulling your hands away and facing you towards him on the sofa.
"You wanna know the reason I went for those girls?"
"Why?"
"Because I didn't think I stood a chance with you."
"Oh come on, you're just telling me that to make me feel better."
"No, I'm not. Why do you think you're the only person I let look after Scout? Who was the first person I called when I got the part on Peaky? When my grandma died? When my nephew was in hospital after a bad asthma attack? When I locked myself out of my apartment, again?"
"Because I'm dependable."
"Because you're you. I need you when I'm happy, sad, lost, confused, lonely, scared.. I need you for it all."
"Just because you need me doesn't mean -"
"I love you."
"What?"
"I love you. Fuck it feels good saying it out loud," he chuckled, looking to the ceiling, you could feel the relief radiating from him. That heartbeat of yours? Racing. Those tears? Fading.
You took his face gently in your hands and brought his eyes down to meet yours again. His fingers traced over your lips softly.
"I love you, too." You'd barely got the last word out before his lips silenced you. Your bodies quickly moving closer, needing the contact as much as the other - your hands in what was left of his hair, running through the strands as his body moved over yours. You found yourself lying on the sofa, the man you'd longed for for years lying on top of you, your legs wrapped around his hips.
"We should stop -" he gasped, coming up for air.
"Yeah, probably..." You replied. Eyes meeting again, a silent 'fuck it' exchanged between you and your lips met again.
"What I meant was - probably shouldn't be here with Scout metres away waiting to pounce thinking I'm hurting you," he laughed, standing up and pulling you onto your feet.
"Depends, are you going to hurt me?" You asked, slight worry on your face.
"Only if you ask nicely," he smirked, leading you into your bedroom and closing the door behind him.
You felt so nervous and self conscious, your legs were like jelly. You'd dreamed of this very moment for so long, and now it was here you didn't think you could go through with it. He sensed your reluctance.
"Hey, we don't have to do this?"
"I do, I really do, but... God you're going to think I'm so stupid..."
"What's wrong?"
"I haven't... I mean..."
"You're a virgin?"
"No! Christ Cillian I'm 31!"
"Okay, so what is it?"
"I'm not exactly prepared, you know?" You glanced down at your body, and he rolled his eyes chuckling.
"So? You think I'm bothered about hair? Have you seen my body y/n? Look, I don't care about any of that. What I care about is making you feel good."
You bit your lip as he slowly pulled your t-shirt over your head, his eyes taking in every inch, every curve. Smiling when he saw you weren't wearing a bra - your full breasts on display for him, nipples hardening that had nothing to do with the cool breeze in the room.
"I don't think your body cares about it, do you?" He winked, taking one of your breasts in his hand, softly squeezing the flesh and running a thumb over your nipple before his lips kissed all of your worries and fears away. The goosebumps on your skin told him he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do - the way your breathing hitched as his hand stroked under your breasts led him to one of your erogenous zones with ease, and he focused his attention there. His lips moved to your neck, finding another hot spot as he felt your legs buckle slightly. One hand moving under your breasts, his teeth nibbling the side of your neck, you could have cum from this alone, but you wanted more. Now.
The fingers of his free hand played with the waistband of your jogging bottoms, slowly creeping underneath it and over your mound. His fingers lightly ghosting over the soft, short curls. You couldn't hold back the gentle moan as his fingers dipped, stroking over your folds.
"You prefer this," he dipped down to gently push a finger inside, "or this..." He pulled it back our out and glanced it over your clit. The way your body flinched made him grin, and he pushed you against the wall. His fingers bringing up your slick juices and circling the small, swollen bud. You lifted your leg up, resting your foot on your bedside table as he slowly worked you up into a shaky, writhing mess against the wall. His body moved between your open legs, leaving just enough room for his right hand to do what you needed.
"Feel good?" He asked in your ear, his breath on your skin adding to the sensations running through you.
"So good.. don't stop..."
"Why not?" He smirked, easing his finger off you.
"Please, Cill..."
"Hmm, quite like hearing you beg," he bit his lip and continued stroking, your juices flowing down your thighs. Your hips began to grind against his hand, you were so close.
"Gonna cum for me baby?" You nodded, unable to form words. His fingers were circling quicker, the white hot pressure building inside you. His lips on your neck, his free hand under your breast, kneading and stroking in time with his magical right hand between your legs. Your hand moved to his hard length under his jeans, kneading against the material, feeling it throb under your touch.
"That's it, that's it, don't... Oh god..." You orgasm hit you so hard he had to hold you up. Your legs couldn't hold you any more. His strokes slowed down slightly as he teased you through the most powerful climax you'd ever had.
"Tastes so sweet," he grinned, pulling his slick fingers from you and tasting them against his lips. Your bottoms swiftly removed, he placed soft kisses up your legs on his way back up. Prickly hairs on your legs not fazing him in the slightest, his lips moving closer to your groin making your whole body shake. Your hands moved to his jeans, unbuttoning them and letting them fall to the floor. He pulled his own t-shirt over his head and you admired the toned, newly hair free chest in front of you. Faint outlines of Tommy's tattoos on his chest and arm.
"One of us shaved, at least," he shrugged, earning him a shoulder smack from you. You giggled together as he pulled you off the wall, sitting on your bed.
You knelt between his legs, his hard cock now eye level. Licking your lips and looking up at him, any hint of self consciousness gone. His hand moved into your hair, a look of pure desire written all over his face.
"You like this," you smirked, your hand stroking over his shaft from the base to the tip, your thumb gliding over the leaking slit at the top. "Or this?"
The deep groan that left him when you sank your mouth over the head of his cock gave you your answer. Your head slowly bobbed up and down, taking him deeper into your throat with each stroke. He tried to refrain from thrusting up into your waiting mouth for fear of choking you, but the way you loosened your throat muscles was almost too tempting. His hand on the back of your head, holding you steady as he pumped his hips up, desperate to feel your lips against the base of his cock.
You allowed him to fuck your mouth, holding your hand over his on the back of your head, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat. A few slight gags, but your core clenched the deeper he went. Hearing his moans, the gentle pants, hearing just how much you were turning him on.
"I'm not finishing in your mouth this time, get up here," he groaned, lifting your mouth off him. You climbed onto his lap as he lined himself up against your entrance. You hovered over him, allowing just the tip to enter as you slowly bounced.
"Don't tease me," he gasped, needing to feel you. All of you.
You sunk down hard.
"Fuck..." You cried in unison, the feeling of finally being connected after all these years of dreaming about it almost too much. Once you'd adjusted to him, you began to move. Slowly at first, finding a rhythm to suit you both. He leaned back on one hand for levity so he could thrust up in time with your movements, his other back underneath your breast.
A rhythm was found almost immediately, his cock hitting your sweet spot easily - your grinds against his perfectly timed upward thrusts.
"So good, so fucking good, riding me..."
"Shit, Cillian, oh god..." He wanted to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress, but you held him in place. You wanted to be the one in control and he was more than happy to let you.
"That's it, use me, take what you need," his hands moved to your waist, helping you bounce on him harder, his cock hitting so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.
"You look so hot riding me, fuck, you're perfect... Need to feel you cum again, can you do that?" He was almost panting his words out, his breathing coming in short little gasps as he felt his balls tightening, his own orgasm forming quickly in his abdomen. His thumb found your clit, the slick juices pooling around it from your orgasm earlier and his own precum leaking from him.
"Cillian.... Cill.. I'm gonna... Holy fuck..." Your head flung backwards as you came again, your whole body trembling from the power of it.
"I've got you, fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're making me cum, gonna cum, gonna cum..." He stumbled over his words, his eyes rolled back into his head. Your walls clenching and gripping him was too much, as he filled you with ropes of his warm cum, lining your walls. His abdomen clenching, his eyes on yours as you came together.
He fell back onto the bedsheets breathless, you collapsed on his chest. His cock still inside you, pulsing with the last of his seed emptying into you as you milked him, squeezing your walls.
"So good, so good..." You gasped, coming down from your high. His hands in your hair, stroking your head.
"You realise you're mine now, yeah?" He grinned, gentle groans as he finished releasing into you.
"Always have been, Cill."
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unloved-cadillac · 3 years
Note
Hi! I actually have some angst I’d like before requests close plz. Female reader is an older teen. A young woman but not quite old enough to drink. However, she sneaks out after curfew and gets ahold of loose alcohol. Levi finds her and tries to drag her back to her room, but she slaps him away. She accidentally slurs out that a male cadet got her drunk recently and assaulted her. She then says “Shh. Don’t tell Levi. He’ll be disappointed” No romance, just a captain and his cadet. Thx!
C/n: I like this. There’s not much platonic works of Levi and his cadet readers. So here you go. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍
Warnings: sexual harassment.
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Just a Sip. (Levi x Reader)
When Commander Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps scouted people to fight for humanity, he knew that majority of them were young people. Most were between the ages of 14 and 17. Every year the cadet ranks were increase in numbers and it made Erwin proud knowing many were dedicated to the cause he believed in.
But with cadets, comes rebellious actions. They were kids after all. Following instructions from elders were such a bore and many just wanted to keep in touch with themselves before either dying in a Titans jaws or losing their minds from trauma.
Y/n L/n was part of the best squad. The Levi squad. She admired Captain Levi. Who didn’t? He was a well-known soldier and the most respected man throughout Paradis. He was fearless and strong and Y/n aspired to be just like him.
But today was just a day that mad she’d exhausted. It was hot, the training was unbearable and her head pounded. She was heading to the taps for a drink of cold water when someone patted her shoulder. She turned and smiled. “Hey, Ryan.” She greets. Ryan was a senior in training. He would make a squad leader soon and Y/n trained under him for two years before.
“Hey Y/n. Say, you got anything planned for tonight?” He asks and she wipes the stray water from her chin.
“I can’t really have plans when we have a curfew.” She chuckles and he smiles. “Curfew? Mm. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Say,” he wraps his arm around her shoulders and leans down to her ear, “a few friends of ours are heading out of base to get a couple of drinks. Join us.”
Y/n’s eyes widen at the mention of alcohol. In Paradis and the army, alcohol was only meant for people older than 18. She was seventeen and had never had a sip of the poison many enjoyed. But she wanted to. It seemed fun watching the other branches sipping whiskey and laughing with red faces.
She smiles and nods. “Alright. Where will I meet you?”
Ryan’s eyes sparkle with glee. “At the old tree just outside of the old stables. Make sure no one sees you. See you later.” He winks at her and leaves her. This was going to be fun. Y/n never had broken rules before and doing it seems exhilarating. She was quite a good soldier on the making since Levi wanted her to join his team.
Later that evening, Y/n ate dinner and left to sleep earlier than usual. When the time came to leave, she snuck out the girls room window and made her way to the old stables. She heard laughing of boys as she neared it. Y/n looked from behind a tree to see Ryan and a few others sharing a bottle in paper around. Smiling, she makes her way to them.
“Hey guys!” She whisper shouts and they cheer. “Y/n’s here!” Ryan says and gets up to hold her. “Come, come. Join us.” He sits her down and follows suit. The boys that were around seemed much older than 20 and it was intimidating. But two were her age even though they acted bigger than seventeen.
“And here you go.” He hands her the bottle and she smells it. Medicine. It smelled like medicine and seemed way less fun than she thought. But with a “screw it” shake of her head, she took a large gulp of the liquid and coughed when she was finished.
“Whoa, she’s good! Very good~.” One boy purrs and sits next to her, pushing himself into her. Y/n giggles and tries to move away, but Ryan sat in the other side of her. “Give her more. She likes it.” The same boy say and places a hand on her thigh and gently squeezed.
Ryan smirks at Y/n’s face. “This is going to be fun.”
~~~~
Levi Ackerman was busy scratching away at his desk when the feeling of uneasiness washes over his body. Something was happening. Trying to brush it away, he resumes writing. He finally gets up and leaves his office after reading over the same line ten times without remembering what he read.
He decided to check the cadets rooms to make sure no one was awake since it was well passed curfew. Everything was fine until he saw a few beds empty. He narrows his eyes and goes out off he building to look around. His eyes caught a wobbly figure coming towards him and before he could call out, they fell.
Levi clicks his tongue and walks over to them. “Hey. What are you doing?” He asks sternly but he only gets a chuckle in response. He knows that giggle. “Y/n?” He asks and he helps her up to her feet. “Can you walk?” She doesn’t answer and he scoffs in annoyance.
He begins to walk her to his office and into the light to see her and when he does, he’s shocked. Her eyes are red and there are bruises on her arms. Also, she stunk of brandy.
“Have…have you been drinking?” He asks and she holds out her fingers in a “little bit” gesture. “What the hell, L/n?” He asks angrily and she giggles again. He holds her upper arms trying to get her to snap out of her state when she slaps both of his hands away. “No. I said no already. I don’t want to do that anymore!” She says and holds Levi’s jacket. “Do what?”
“Whatever their hand was doing in between my thighs. I didn’t like it and they didn’t stop. It felt weird and it burns down there.” She slurs out and Levi widens his eyes. “Y/n? Who did this?” He asks, keeping his voice low to hide his anger. “Ryan and his friends. Mikasa, don’t tell Levi. He’d be so mad at me for drinking. I just wanted to try it! I promise! But they kept pushing me to drink more and more even though I wanted to leave. It tasted horrible.” She mumbles the last bit and lays her forehead on Levi’s shoulder.
Levi holds her steady as he understands what she just said. Gently lifting her up, he lays her on his bed and covers her up fully before leaving his room to give a few boys lessons on how much pain an Ackerman can inflict on the human body.
~~~~
The next morning, Y/n woke up in a bed that definitely wasn’t hers. Her headache increased massively but before she could think, she ran to what looked like the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. She washed up and peed and felt a burn in her privates. She looked down and saw red marks all over her thighs when she remembered what happened. “Oh my god.”
She carefully exited the bathroom to ses Levi standing by his door. “Captain!” She salîtes and flinches a bit. He shakes his head and motions to his bed. She sits down and he crosses his arms. “Y/n, do you remember what happened last night?” He asks, voice like stone. She visibly gulps and plays with the blanket. “Y/n, I’ve asked a question,” Levi says after a long silence, “answer.”
“Yes.” She answers and looks at him, eyes brimming up with tears. “I..drank. After curfew. I snuck out.” She says and Levi kneels in front of her. “That’s not all. Do you remember after that? How you ended up here?” He asks and she shakes her head.
“You told me about Ryan and his friends. And what happened.” He says softly as he notices her tears. “I’m sorry, Levi. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted a sip.” She cries and he shakes his head and holds her hands. “No. Do not blame yourself. This isn’t your fault. I’m not angry at you. Those boys were much older and knew better. I’ve taken care of them. I’m calling Hange here to examine you. To make sure you’re okay. Hey,” he tilts her face up with his finger under chin, “it’s okay. I’m here.”
She closes her eyes and hugs Levi and he returns it. They sat in silence. Levi wouldn’t let go of her until he knew she wanted to stop hugging. She needed someone now. A big brother more than a Captain.
Erwin listened to the whole thing from outside and left to his office to sign for the dismissals and jail sentences for Ryan and his friends.
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🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤
-Caddy.
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lovely-angst · 3 years
Text
single dad!dabi
a/n: i KNOW dabi’s cannonly(?) can’t cry, but let’s just ignore that fact in this fic :^) also ty for waiting patiently for me to post! <3
genre: angst
pairing: dabi x f!reader
summary: dabi had started a family with you, but when he suddenly becomes a single father, now what?
word count: 2.4k
06.29.21
-
The sounds of an infant cry filled the small apartment as the night grew on. The sun had long gone and the moon filled its place in the sky as the city fell into a slumber—it seemed as if the only ones up were Dabi and the small child in his arms. 
Her mouth opened wide as her powerful cries rang in Dabi’s ears as he tried cooing the young girl back to sleep. A bounce in his step as he paced around the small bedroom he shared with his three-month-old daughter, Aya. 
Dabi tried shushing her gently, attempting to soothe her, but to no avail. 
He felt as if he was going crazy. He had tried everything at this point—a warm bottle, a change of fresh diaper, heck, even some snuggles, but nothing seemed to work. 
Dabi could feel his eyes sting with upcoming tears as his frustrations grew and grew. Setting Aya down in her crib, her wails grew louder before Dabi turned around and slumped against the crib, defeated. 
Reaching over towards his nightstand, Dabi gently picked up the photo of you before bringing it closer towards him, his glossy eyes running across your familiar features before he brought his large hands towards his face.
And cried. 
He cried and cried and cried.
“I can’t do this, (Name),” he sobbed into your photo, his wails mixing in with those of his daughter’s. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t help Aya, she needs you,” he stated, pulling back to stare at your photo once more. 
“I don’t know how to do this without you. You were supposed to be here with us—we were supposed to do this together,” his cries had died down, allowing him to wipe the photo dry of his tears. 
Leaning his head back on the crib, Dabi’s eyes roamed over the small bedroom. It was messy, just as messy as his life was currently without you. Picking up one of your shirts from the floor, Dabi let the fabric rest in his hands before bringing it up to his chest to hold. 
It still faintly smelled like you.
His daughter’s cried came back to his ears and Dabi stood back up, tucking the shirt in his young daughter’s arms before watching her cries gently soothe away from your scent. 
“Yeah,” Dabi started, bending down to pick his daughter up before bringing her towards the bed with him, “I miss her too.”
-
It felt like yesterday when you told Dabi you were pregnant. It came as a shock to him of course—he was just hitting his twenty-fifth birthday and he was about to become a dad?
He was never really the one to think about kids or even having kids himself—but that all changed once you came into the picture. 
“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too,” you say, grabbing hold of his hands before giving him the prettiest shy smile, “but if I’m honest, I’m really excited to become a mom. I love you so much, Dabi. I can’t wait to love our baby.”
You were so excited and he couldn’t help but anticipate the day his baby would be born. 
Dabi knew you would be a great mother. On the other hand, he was nervous—but if you were going to put in all this effort to love and raise this baby with someone like him, then Dabi knew he had to give it his all too. 
He’ll make sure that his child lives a better life than he ever will. 
He decided to cut his ties with the league, ending his time as a highly wanted villain. It wasn’t easy getting Shiggy to agree, but with a little bit of convincing and a little explanation about his tragic backstory, Shiggy finally agreed. 
If he was going to be a dad, he wanted to do it right. 
Everything was going great throughout the pregnancy. Dabi was there for you as much as he could, helping you, providing for you and his baby. Basking in those little moments of realizing that he was going to be a dad. 
Reality began to hit when you had gone into labor. It would have been fine if Dabi were a normal citizen, but Dabi was a villain and because of that, he wasn’t able to be with you when you were giving birth in the hospital. 
It crushed him more than you could have known—to have his unofficial wife alone during such a difficult, excruciatingly painful and life-changing journey. There were times Dabi wished he could be a normal citizen like you, and this was one of those times. 
It wasn’t until you got discharged a few days later when Dabi was able to see you again. It was also the first time Dabi had gotten to see his baby. 
You were finally back in the apartment, Dabi helping you up the stairs to the apartment as he eyes the little bundle in your arms. “You can hold her too, you know,” you say with a smile when you caught him staring for the millionth time.
“Her?” Dabi asked voice caught in his throat. “Welcome Aya to the world,” you say, placing her in his arms the moment the two of you sat on the couch together. 
His breathing stopped the moment Aya was placed in his arms. She was tiny. Dabi didn’t know that humans came this small. He was scared of accidentally breaking her, and from the way you laughed, he could tell you knew. 
Dabi watched you closely as you taught him how to carefully bathe her, change her, feed her, and even burp her. He remembered the times your laughter would fill the air whenever Aya spit up all over him, or even the times her little body was able to create such a smelly masterpiece for him. 
He always thought he would hate being a father, yet here he was. Sleeping soundly with his baby girl.
Three months into having his baby girl were some of the best days of his life. Sure they were tough and going off practically no sleep was rough, but he wouldn’t trade this domestic life for anything. 
It made him feel like a normal person.
But all good things come to an end.
As Dabi strolled along during one of his scouting missions, his phone rang and vibrated in his pockets before he reached in for it. He really only had the phone, so you could contact him if you were in some deep waters, which he hoped would never happen.
To his surprise, it wasn’t you who called, but Hawks.
“What? You better have a good reason for calling, or I’ll-”
“It’s about (Name),” Hawks cuts off, “you better come quick,” and with that, Hawks ended the call, leaving Dabi’s thoughts unanswered. A small ping resonating in the air as Hawks left him with a single address.
Though Hawks’ call was brief and left a lot for Dabi to figure out himself, he knew it bad news awaited him. He just hoped it wasn’t as terrible as his thoughts led him to. 
“What was so urgent?” Dabi asked as soon as he stepped around the corner of an empty alleyway only to find Hawks’ red wings filling his sight. “Where’s (Name)?” 
As soon as your name left Dabi’s lips, Dabi could see the way Hawks’ feathers shifted before the winged man himself, turned towards Dabi, finally giving him the view of what he most dreaded. 
There you lay—eyes closed and chest unmoving. Dabi’s eyes widened before he ran towards your body, where thankfully, it rested on Hawks’ thick jacket and not on some dirty alleyway like this. 
“(Name)? Hey, wake up, I’m here,” Dabi tried, gently shaking your shoulders and brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. 
“Dabi,” Hawks started, voice strained, “she’s gone.” 
Those words seemed so unreal that if Dabi blocked them out of his head, then it surely wouldn’t be true. Stared at your limp body in front of him, it was all just a bad dream.
“I...I was with her during her last moments. I found her while on patrol, it was a gunshot wound,” he informed, watching Dabi caress your cheek. 
“I made sure she left peacefully, I talked about you to her.” Hawks tried, “and she smiled. She told me to tell you to take care of Aya for her.” 
As Dabi turned around, his eyes quickly focused on Aya, who was sound asleep in Hawks’ arms. Taking a step forward, Hawks placed Aya in Dabi’s arms before Dabi began quietly sobbing while clutching his daughter.
Hawks had never seen Dabi look so broken and desperate before and it was quite painful to see. Villain or not, Hawks never wanted anybody to go through this. 
“I’m sorry for your loss, Dabi.” 
Though the two weren’t good buddies in any way, they both had you in common. As much as it hurt to see you go, Dabi asked Hawks to take you away and give you a proper burial as you deserve. And Hawks didn’t bat an eye at his request. 
Giving you one last final kiss goodbye, Hawks lifted you in his arms, ready to take flight. “Hey,” Hawks starts, catching Dabi’s attention, “if you ever need anything for Aya, just let me know.” 
Dabi couldn’t help the slight curl in the corner of his mouth at Hawks’ words. “I don’t want to owe favors.” 
Hawks smiled back at the man in front of him, throwing his visor on, “You don’t have to worry, she’s in good hands,” and with that, his large red wings spread and he took flight into the air with you. 
And it was the last time Dabi would ever get to see you.
-
It had nearly been a month since you left—Dabi doing his very best trying to raise Aya as a single father. It was hard. No, more than hard. Being a single father to a three-month-old with no mother was the most challenging thing Dabi has ever done. 
And he was starting to doubt his abilities as her father. He was running low on money to provide for Aya and himself, and there would be days where she just wanted you instead, which would break his heart. 
Dabi felt like a failure; to you and Aya. 
As he cradled a drowsy Aya on his chest, Dabi glanced over at the fridge that held up a little note with an address written on it—the location you were resting at.
Hawks had sent that note to him, but Dabi had never mustered up the courage to come out and see you. He didn’t want you to see him like this, struggling to his core. Because if you were here, he knew he wouldn’t be struggling like this.
But for some reason, that note was calling out to him. 
Walking into the bedroom, Dabi began searching the closet where Aya’s dresses were hung up. Holding her small body in one of his arms, he went through each little outfit with a slight smile on his face. 
You loved shopping for Aya, and all of these cute outfits were the product of that. 
Taking a dress off the rack, he held it up before glancing down at Aya, “Do you think your mama will like this on you?” His low voice vibrated through his chest and onto Aya, causing her to open her beautiful blue eyes up at him.
She glanced over at the outfit before making a face, tears filling her eyes and Dabi immediately out the dress back. “Your mama always did say I had bad fashion sense.” he chuckled before searching for a new outfit. 
And did he find the perfect one. 
Setting Aya down on the bed, he changed her into the outfit before smiling at her once he laid eyes on her fully dressed little chubby body. Boy, did you and him make a cute kid. 
“Okay, let’s go. Mama’s waiting.” 
Before making his way to you, Dabi bundled himself up well in his wind breaker, mask, sunglasses, and gloves. He took the less populated route, but he couldn’t avoid everybody. Thankfully, Aya was able to distract them from the fact that they were beside a wanted villain. 
Dabi followed Hawks’ instructions on the note before finding himself in front of your grave as he entered the cemetery. His heart fell from the reality of the situation—being here in person just made it all the more real that you were gone. 
Placing the flowers that he got you down in the little holder, he let out a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry it took so long to come see you, (Name).” 
His eyes continuously read over your name engraved into your tombstone as he sat down with a heavy heart, “It’s so hard doing this without you, you know? Aya really needs you.” 
Dabi didn’t want to seem like he was complaining to you, never. He had a lot on his chest, and simply, he missed talking to you. 
He went on about his days and the new milestones Aya has been hitting, telling you how much you would’ve loved to see her smile. “She looks so much like you, it’s crazy. Even though she’s just three months old, I’m glad she does.” 
It was weird to Dabi how much peace this was bringing him. Yes, he knew you were no longer with him, but talking to you like this, being with you like this, made it seem like you never left his side. 
With a final sigh, Dabi leaned over and pressed a kiss on your tombstone, bring Aya closer so she could also mirror his actions, “I love you,” he whispered, brushing his fingers across your engraved name, “we’ll be back soon.” 
It was quite an experience there, a healing one. Dabi knew his struggles and knew that he needed to reach out for help, and talking to you gave him the courage to do so. He didn’t want to seem weak, but building this strength to ask for help, made him stronger than anyone else. 
So, Dabi walked until he reached a familiar place and when he stepped inside and the eyes of his old comrades focused on him, his shoulders softened. 
“Thought you’d never come back,” Toga said with a toothy smile as she ran over to hug her old friend, “sorry to hear about (Name).” 
“So, this is what’s kept you so busy,” Kurogiri states as he glanced down at the little girl in Dabi’s arms. A hand landed on Dabi’s shoulder and he turned and noticed those bright red wings of the pro hero, “It’s nice to have you back. (Name) would be happy to see you like this.” 
Though they may be seen as criminals from the outside view, Dabi knew these would love and support his baby girl with their lives—and that’s all that mattered.
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