#I couldn’t make the pose work with her canon height…

[tadpolebobatea]

@fluffbruary day 7 - curls

Everyone be quiet, she’s concentrating

[kaibacorpintern]

hi i forgot the ship name but would u write something thats seto and ryou? (platonic or romantic) where they play a ttrpg together or somethin idk

“or somethin idk” give me an inch, i have run a mile. a mile of 4.7k words.

platonic euroshipping. post-canon. ryou applies for a game writer position at kaibacorp and makes it to the final stage. contains: dragons, swords, some very sexy things about solidvision and the virtual world, kaiba covered in blood and having a great time, me the writer having a great time, hopefully you the reader having a great time, and ryou, not covered in blood, having a very, very, very anxious time

tw for some fantasy violence

++++++

Ryou inhaled, taking a deep breath of: the fresh, sweet smell of grass, the coolness of river water, something dry and grey in the wind, slightly rotten - smoke? And sulfur. The grasses were filled with the restless susurrus of the wind, each blade quivering with anticipation. Above him, a hawk tilted in lazy, wide circles, tracking the hidden paths of its prey. He stood on a dusty path halfway up the long slope of a steep hillside, the farmlands of the valley behind him peeled back to reveal the burned, blackened devastation beneath. The village from this distance looked like the charcoal remains of a bonfire, the air still shimmering with heat. 

The sun itself was hot, making him sweat in the thick, coarse silk of his mage’s robe, every purple thread saturated with light and heat. Mopping sweat from his brow, Ryou opened his options menu, the holographic display falling open, in the guise of an illuminated manuscript, and hovering at waist-height in thin air, perfectly tilted for reading. The parchment was old and yellowed, almost velvet to the touch, the edges frayed with age, and he couldn’t resist the urge to smell it, leaning in cautiously to take an experimental whiff. Strong notes of dust, old ink, age; an undertone of knowledge, of the forbidden kind. 

He selected Player Appearance and the page turned, with weight and heft, to reveal another. Kaiba didn’t miss a beat. Ryou had no doubt if he knelt down to drink from the stream that flowed down the slope, folding in clear ribbons past the rocks, the water would run cold over his fingers until they pruned. And the magic effects?

He swallowed. It was not just the sun that was making him sweat.

He’d just changed into something more practical - a short-sleeved green tunic, a pair of white breeches, leather boots that had just a bit of bite to the fit, like the player had to wear them in - when a chime pealed out from six feet away, as though someone had rung an invisible bell. The air tore apart, in odd, geometric anguish, like a broken mirror twisting into itself - 

and there was Kaiba, standing in the knee-high grass in his customary black turtleneck and tight pants, frowning with his arms crossed.

“Hello,” Ryou said. “It’s so nice to see you again. Your technology is... this is amazing. The attention to detail is incredible. The player screen, with the parchment - it even smells like - ”

“What is this? Medieval?” Kaiba said, glancing around at his clothes, the distant village, taking no notice of his praise; Ryou bit his tongue in self-rebuke. As if buttering him up with compliments was going to help. 

“Western Europe. From the mid-11th century to the 12th. The age of knights and chivalry,” he said, deciding that maybe his best strategy was to simply be straightforward.

“I’m familiar with basic history, thank you. How... classic,” Kaiba said, in a tone that screamed disinterest, and Ryou’s heart began to plummet - already starting from behind? No, no, no, he reminded himself, straightening the slouch out of his shoulders. Yuugi had warned him about this. Kaiba was fantastically tough to impress, in general, and the Virtual World was his world, a realm he'd built with sweat and tears, and stolen back with blood. So he hand-picked every writer that wrote for Virtual World games, refusing to squander a single pixel on conventional nonsense and uninspired cliché. 

The last step - before he brought the axe down - was a short, playable demo, as proof of concept, written by the applicant and executed by the Virtual World team.

Ryou had come this far in the application process. Trust that, Yuugi said. And trust yourself.

Kaiba was looking at him, eyebrows arched with expectant curiosity.

“Er,” Ryou said. “Let’s get started, then. You’ll need to change.”

He pulled up the menu, revelling in the hovering parchment once more, and changed Kaiba’s appearance, like - like magic, the lines of Kaiba’s silhouette rippling like a sine wave from the bottom up, his modern-day clothing becoming a knee-length tunic of chainmail under a belted dark blue surcoat. Kaiba held still throughout the entire transformation, in smug admiration of the effect, his arms held out in a ballet dancer’s pose as chainmail draped down his shoulders to his wrists. 

In his right hand appeared, with a sharp, diamond flash of light, a long arming sword, the edge nicked with age and bloodspill. The hilt was black, with a sapphire gleaming in the pommel. A plain shield dropped onto his left forearm. 

He gave the sword an experimental spin, testing the heft with practiced ease, and slid it back into the leather scabbard on his belt.

“A knight, the charred, smoking remains of a village… I’m assuming I’m on a quest to kill a dragon?” he said, pushing back the hood of the chainmail so that it draped off his shoulders, and nodding up the slope to where the grasses tattered into rocky shale. 

“Yes, you can assume that,” Ryou said politely.

On cue, a child no more than twelve years old staggered up the dusty path from the village, her small torso heaving with breath, sweat and tears running in clean streaks down her soot-stained face. 

“Sir Knight,” she choked out. Flashing a look at Ryou that said cheap blow, but unable to deny his own fraternal instinct, Kaiba dropped to one knee and caught her, his hands swallowing her thin, shuddering shoulders. Playing along, at least.

“Calm down,” he said, steadying her. Ryou imagined his anxiety as a small, hard rock, packing in the twist of every fraying nerve, and leaned all his weight onto one foot, grinding the rock into the dirt with his heel. "What is it?”

“They sent me to warn you, about the dragon,” she panted. “They said only the Chosen One can truly defeat the dragon, and bring peace back to the land. Many have tried. All suffered the same terrible fate - a fate worse than death.”

“I see,” Kaiba said. “And who is the Chosen One?”

The girl glanced at Ryou over Kaiba’s shoulder, her eyes glinting with fear. 

“No - no one knows,” she said. “But all the oracles say they’re coming… a knight with a pure and worthy heart. Sir Knight, don’t go. Come back to the village. It’s safe there. What do you gain from this? Our humble lands aren’t worth the danger!”

“I think they are,” Kaiba said, thumbing soot off her face, and frowning as her cheek pixelated, briefly, and resumed a skin-like texture. "Open master commands, user ID 000002510. Initiate master log. Begin recording: skin-to-skin contact glitch reappeared during writer play-test, candidate Bakura, R. Begin patch work immediately. End recording. Disperse to Virtual World team, flag Sawada, project manager. Close master commands. Did you know, one of the most compelling unsolved problems in physics is the lack of a theory that realizes both general relativity and quantum mechanics?”

The girl gave him a wary look, wide-eyed with faint alarm. Ryou sucked in a breath, grinding the anxiety rock down, down, down.

“You - you speak in tongues, Sir Knight," she said. "Are you also an oracle? Has your future-sight failed you? Don’t you see that only death lives on the mountain?”

Kaiba snorted and stood up, turning to Ryou. “A solid response to non-standard player input. Doesn’t ignore modern concepts, but re-contextualizes them in the setting of this world via a framework of prophecy, and redirects the player to the plot.” 

“Um... thank you?” Ryou said. “I wanted this world to feel like it has a future, too, not just a history. I wanted to place it on a timeline, like it - ”

Kaiba’s attention swung back to the girl, still standing there with her eyes darting between them, full of bafflement. 

“Return to the village, girl. Tell them my future-sight never fails me.”

The girl retreated backwards, warily, twisted on her heel, and fled down the path.

"If I go down to the village, what'll I find?" Kaiba said.

"More information about the Chosen One, and an outlaw who tries to recruit you to her band of thieves, with the option to join them for a stealth-based quest.”

"Hm. You have the imagination and the decency to offer me something other than blatant bait, which I don't always bite. The cliché of the Chosen One is boring as hell, it’s both over-done and deterministic, but I think... yes. Yes, I'll bite. Let's go see your dragon."

In the wake of this... compliment?, Ryou could only offer him a small, tentative smile, his heart clenching tight around Yuugi's advice. 

Kaiba started up the path. 

“Er, Kaiba - you might want to check your inventory before you encounter the dragon."

Kaiba’s hand padded around his waist until he found the small satchel that sat on his hip. Another parchment unfurled in the air before him, listing its contents:

Two full healing spells;

Two glamour spells, for changing the guise of a person or object;

Two transformation spells, for changing a person or an object into an animal;

Two scrying spells, for locating people or objects;

Two ignis spells, for commanding fire;

Two aqua spells, for commanding water; and

Two ventus spells, for commanding wind.

Ryou watched him as he read. He'd carved a small, thick groove into the dirt below his foot. Surely, that was enough for Kaiba to get creative?

Kaiba only closed the parchment with a brisk flick of his hand. Then he started up the mountain, Ryou following nervously behind.

***

The mountain path was rougher than Ryou expected, a tightly-coiled spring of switchbacks, leading to the curved lip of a high pass. After several minutes of trudging the dust in silence, he was panting for breath, his feet aching and blistering in their boots, and deeply regretting adding this little detail to the story. Next time, he was just going to put the dragon on a rolling, grassy plain, and he’d make it like an American autumn corn maze, because it still needed to be a challenge, and when the players got to the center they’d find the dragon’s decaying, rotting corpse and realize they’d been stuck inside the maze for five hundred years and everyone they loved was dead, and if they wanted to go back to their own time they’d have to find out how to resurrect the dragon, but only at a terrible cost, a sacrifice of some kind... Not his best off-the-cuff work, but there were usable concepts in there, somewhere. If there was a next time.

Despite being laden down with the chainmail, each tiny link flashing like fish scales in the airy slanting of the afternoon sun, Kaiba seemed unaffected by the demands of the hike, propelling himself forward with long, energetic strides. How?

Ryou thought about asking for a break. Or drinking water from the stream. Or changing his boots for something comfier, but he didn't have anything else in his outfit inventory except the mage robes, and the slippers might be even worse… he stopped, hands on his hips, gathering his breath.

From here the valley sprawled below them, a wide, velvety plain, its edges rising and scalloped by mountains. The village fit in the circle of his thumb and forefinger, a smoking black thumbprint. The team had done a fantastic job: the stream ran down the mountain, flattened into a river, and ran south, lazy and serpentine, a green-blue ribbon cutting through the yellow plains, just like he’d outlined in his initial description of the world….

Wait. 

This was all virtual. 

There was no such thing as air, here, or rivers or sunshine or grasses.

His real, physical body was half-asleep in a Virtual World testing pod on the 17th floor of the Kaiba Corp Tower, and his body here was just a series of algorithms, and if he didn’t want to sweat, he didn’t have to fucking sweat! Thank God!

Up ahead, Kaiba noted the absence of his footfalls and turned around, one hand resting easily on his sword hilt. From his position on the path, he looked down at Ryou from several feet up, which doubled the intimidation of his already formidable bearing.

“I’m fine,” Ryou said. “Just... admiring the view.”

“Are you having your Matrix moment? That’s what my programmers call it,” Kaiba said.

Ryou laughed. “I think so. I was tired but I don't feel it at all, anymore. Like all the fatigue's just melted away and I could run a marathon.”

“Is that something you enjoy?”

“Oh, no. I hate sports.”

Kaiba snorted.

“So, tell me. Why do you want this job?” he said. “At my company? Writing stories with my technology?”

“Er - ” Blindsided by the swerve in topics, Ryou tripped over his thoughts. Surely he must’ve read his application? Maybe he didn’t have the time. Stick to straightforward. “I’m sure you remember my performance in Battle City?”

“Yes, I remember,” Kaiba said, which was honestly more than Ryou expected of him.

“Well, I don’t play much Duel Monsters anymore,” he said, “but I still.. every once in a while, I turn my Duel Disk on and play a few cards, just to see my monsters come out, see them breathe… you know I run a Zombie deck, full of demons and dead things, but SolidVision makes them feel so - so alive. You took these fantasy monsters that exist only in our heads and put them in our world.”

“Virtual World game writers don’t work on SolidVision products,” Kaiba countered.

“Right, I know that. To me, Virtual World and SolidVision are the inverse of each other, or opposites that contain each other, like, like yin and yang - with SolidVision, the unreal enters the real, and becomes real. In the Virtual World, the real - ” Ryou motioned to himself - “enters the unreal, and becomes unreal. We like to put walls between imagination and reality, you know, taxes are real and unicorns aren’t, but with SolidVision and Virtual World, there is no wall. That’s the world I want to write stories for.”

“Hm,” Kaiba said, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smile. “Interesting take.”

And he waited, saying nothing more, until Ryou realized he was waiting for him; and trotted lightly up the path to join him.

*** 

By the time they reached the top of the mountain pass, the air had turned a clear, dusky gold. The mountains cast long, black shadows across the valley, like dark teeth, chewing up the farmlands. The mountain pass was saddle-shaped, one side sloping down into the valley they’d just come from, the other flattening into a smaller, higher bowl, cupping a pale blue-green lake between its rocky palms.

Kaiba scrambled onto the nearest large rock, his head swinging as he scanned the lake valley. Ryou wrapped one arm around his waist and bit his thumb. They had found a deep, penetrating quiet, the kind of wilderness quiet that was devoid of texture of any kind; no bugs or burbling streams or bird song. It was not even like holding your breath, waiting, because that implied a coming moment of exhale, a sigh of relief. This was a perfect stillness. 

And hidden somewhere inside it was a dragon. 

Ryou bit harder, until he remembered the pain was fake and did nothing, and he had to come up with something else to temper his anxiety, which was definitely, definitely real.

Kaiba's gonna flip his shit when he sees your dragon, Yuugi said, from the back of Ryou's mind, Ryou's demo manuscript in hand. In a good way or a bad way? Is it too derivative? What does it matter that he'll flip his shit for my dragon when he flips his shit for ANY dragon? He's a slut for dragons. Oh my god, you can't say that! Yuugi, please, help - nope. You got this. You know what you're doing.

Even the metallic shing of Kaiba’s sword coming out of its sheath seemed small, in an unnatural way, a pointless, petty defiance. 

A shadow fell across the lake valley. 

Both of them looked up -

and an enormous dragon hurtled out of the sky, landing with thundering force on all four clawed feet, flattening trees and boulders beneath its reptilian bulk. Ryou staggered backwards and fell, in an awkward, clumsy crab pose; Kaiba threw his shield over his face and dug in, undaunted.

"HAVE YOU COME TO KILL ME?" the dragon boomed. “MISERABLE WRETCH?”

Kaiba lowered his shield, just enough for his first full look at the dragon. From his spot, crumpled on the ground, Ryou saw, in the shadow below the shield, another slender smile. The dragon’s hide was a dark, luxurious blue-black, mottled like snakeskin but textured with the heavy crags and knobs of crocodiles. It lowered its head on its long, arching neck, gracefully bearing the weight of two massive, curving horns, and stared down at them with fathomless acid-green eyes.

Even Ryou, who had designed it, sat enthralled: every movement it made - the eager flick of its tail, the claws, curling into the dirt, glinting under a layer of blood and grime, the shuddering of its leathery wings as they folded into its long body - hinted at indomitable power. It was a true creature of legend, a titan from the youngest days of the world, demanding both reverence and terror.

“I have!” Kaiba replied blithely, despite announcing it in a ringing voice.

“ONLY THE CHOSEN ONE CAN DEFEAT ME,” the dragon said. “YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF SUCH A FEAT. I SEE YOUR HEART, BLACKGUARD KNIGHT. I CAN TASTE THE BLOOD YOU’VE SPILLED WITH YOUR SWORD, BRIGHT AND PUNGENT. I CAN HEAR THE CRIES OF ALL THE LIVES YOU’VE LET EBB INTO THE DIRT AT YOUR FEET!”

“I’m here to avenge the village!” Kaiba shouted. 

“YOU COME UP HERE TO DEFEND SOME PATHETIC SCRAPS OF BRICK AND WOOD, THINKING YOU CAN KILL ME, AND CALL THAT HONOR? REDEMPTION? YOU CALL THAT COURAGE? ITS TRUE NAME IS VANITY! EMPTY AND FALSE! IT WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN BEFORE I DO!” the dragon boomed again. “LEAVE. I WAS ONCE NAIVE AND VAIN LIKE YOU. COME BACK WHEN YOU ARE MORE THAN A MERE WORM, OR ELSE SUFFER MY FATE!”

Ryou had clambered to his feet and bolted for the safety of a low ridge, which gave him a perfect view of Kaiba, head held high and proud as he gazed unflinching at the dragon, several hundred times his size. He’d written those words in his notebook on the metro, leaning his head against the cool midnight glass, pausing every other line to ferret out another piece of sour candy from his bag. Then he’d missed his stop. That trundling, light-washed world of a train car seemed impossibly distant now - a rapidly fading dream, to be remembered only in flashes and silence. To hear the words come out of the smoking jaws of this dragon, each syllable flowing in a delicious, indulgent baritone from its shining teeth, filled him with a breathless exhilaration, his heart hammering in his throat - this was real!

“Only one of us is suffering fate today!” Kaiba shouted back, a laugh in his voice, and then threw a glance at Ryou. “‘Suffer my fate?’ Is that a typo?”

“VERY WELL. COME KILL ME! THERE IS PEACE IN DEATH, AND ONLY ONE OF US CAN CLAIM IT!”

“I - watch out!” Ryou yelled, as the dragon lunged forward, its jaws snapping shut on the empty air where Kaiba had been standing half a second before. Kaiba threw himself out of the way, a nimble tuck and roll, and scrabbled across the shale towards higher ground. Behind him, the dragon swung its massive head, nostrils red and flaring, mouth curled up in a savage draconic grin, glinting with the promise of violence. 

No sooner had Kaiba flung himself behind a scattering of boulders, shield raised, than it unleashed a jet of fire so hot and scorching the boulders glowed red, their rough faces melting in sheets. Ryou felt the heat wash across his face, from several dozen yards away. 

The fire died out. The dragon snorted in satisfaction, horse-like, a loud, wet huff of smoke. The boulders sizzled as they cooled into their new, bizarrely dripping forms.

Kaiba emerged from behind a boulder, sweating and singed, his face streaked with ash and his eyes shining. He tossed the warped, melted wreckage of his shield aside, where it bounced and clattered against the rocks.

“SO YOU STILL LIVE? A MISTAKE. WHAT COMES NEXT WILL HURT WORSE!”

“For you!” Kaiba hurled back, and threw his hand into the air, a gesture Ryou had seen countless times on a duel field - a lightning rod, a summoning. “VENTUS!” 

The wind picked up, in a giddy, howling whirl, bringing with it a cloud of dust that descended gritty and blinding and pale across the valley. Kaiba and the dragon vanished from sight inside it. Mentally Ryou subtracted one spell from Kaiba’s satchel.

“THIS WON’T HELP Y - ” Cut off by a wet chop and an ear-splitting draconic scream, a raw, awful sound, torn out of an unwilling throat. Just below it, a glorious, cascading laugh. “WRETCH! WORM!”

The dust settled, revealing glistening, dark-green blood splattered across the rocks, and a single severed claw, its flesh still twitching. The dragon seethed, its wounded foot curled in agony. Kaiba was clear across the other side of the pass, by the dragon’s tail, grinning open-mouthed as he panted for breath. His chainmail and surcoat dripped with dragon blood; his hair was thick with it. 

“COME GET YOUR PEACE, DRAGON!” he bellowed, and the dragon slung its head around, tail coiling in an ominous whip. 

Again Kaiba lifted his hand, shouted “VENTUS - !”

And a second dust cloud barreled into the valley, as the dragon roared back, “THAT WON’T WORK AGAIN!”

It whipped its tail through the dust cloud, a scythe-like sweep - smacking something hard into the rocks with a thick, fleshy crunch of bone that made Ryou’s insides clench tight with terrified sympathy.

The dragon whirled around, clearing the dust with several storm-gathering wingbeats.

This was not real. This was just pixels, neatly arranged and running in rivers of algorithms - just a clever series of ones and zeroes - and yet Ryou gasped, the dragon laughing, at the sight of Kaiba lying in a crumpled, motionless heap in the rocks. He hadn’t considered Kaiba might actually fail to kill the dragon - all thoughts of jobs and game-writing abandoned - unreality aside, the mind had a way of making it real - what the fuck happened if Kaiba died?

“IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE, WORM?” the dragon said, nudging Kaiba’s limp body with its claws, rolling him over. His head lolled, his body twisted into a horrifying, broken-boned slouch. How on earth was Ryou going to explain this to Yuugi? Hell. “I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE NOT W - ”

Ryou almost didn’t see it - a hawk in a dive, arrow-straight, from the top of the sky, diving through a blinding flash of light several stories up - and out of the light came Kaiba, alive and whole, plummeting towards the dragon’s head, gripping his sword with both hands - plunging it straight through the top of the dragon’s skull. 

He left the sword hilt-deep in dragon flesh as he pitched forward with the force of impact, rolling over the dragon’s brow, flailing to catch himself - on the massive horn. Clinging, victorious, as the great dragon swayed, its green eyes filming, and finally slumped, in agonized slow motion, to the earth, body first, head last, with a thundering, bone-rattling crash. 

It released one last, rattling breath, the trees shuddering in the fetid breeze.

The valley descended into stillness once more. 

Ryou sat down on his low escarpment with a limp thump, burying his face in both hands. This was just a Virtual World, where at one point everything would power down and they’d wake up safe and sound in the squishy, air-conditioned comfort of a pod, and he had, after all, planned on Kaiba killing the dragon, but Kaiba’s sheer nerve seemed beyond that. Yuugi was right. The guy was, maybe, a little nuts. Completely off his rocker.

“Ryou,” Kaiba said, above him, and Ryou lifted his head. Kaiba rested the sword jauntily across his shoulder, the rest of him filthy with dragon blood and human blood and dirt. “I have to say, I enjoyed your dragon. A shame it had to die.”

“Your strategy... You used a glamour spell? On a... rock? To make it look like your dead body,” Ryou said. “And then a transformation spell.”

“Correct. Is that all for your demo?” Kaiba said, cocking an eyebrow, both bloody and disdainful, and Ryou swallowed. “I was hoping for more of a cha - ”

His words stopped hard in his throat, a harsh, hacking sound. His free hand flew to his neck, mouth dropping open in pain and confusion, eyes widening. He coughed - or tried to, achieving nothing more than a thin, ugly retching, his face going white - and Ryou watched, in fascinated horror, as his gamble began to play out. There was nothing he could do to help; he’d written it that way.

The sword clattered to the stones, green blood dripping off the shining edge, as Kaiba staggered sideways, gasping for breath, both hands on his neck - what was the algorithm doing to him? Ryou had only written ‘a suffocating, squirming pain, concentrated in the lungs,’ and resolved to think more carefully about what types of pain he might inflict on the player characters, if the gamble paid off... But how interesting to know even the creator of the Virtual World himself suspended his disbelief - his knowledge of the truth - sometimes, and indulged in pain...

He collapsed to his knees, stretching one hand out, fisting it around Ryou’s collar and dragging him closer - 

“What - ” he choked out, eyes glaring into Ryou’s, in baffled, furious agony - terrified - they rolled backwards, the blue sliding away to white, as he slumped over himself. 

His hand went slack and fell. What life remained slipped away in a low, shaking sigh.

Ryou took him by the shoulders and gently lay him down, passing a hand over his eyes to close them. Dead, but not really.

“Just hold on a moment,” he said. The body had been vacated. The soul - the player - was awakening elsewhere.

He waited a few moments, absorbing the stillness, the detail on the leaves of the pine trees; the way the lake water shimmered in golden flecks with late afternoon light. It was maybe his last few seconds to enjoy the world he’d written, rendered in full splendor by the magic of technology, and he’d banished his anxiety from both his mind and body, to live out its exile in the real world. It didn’t belong here.

The great dragon body began to stir, drowsily, waking up from a deep, deep sleep. The deepest sleep.

Ryou stood up and slid down the escarpment to the dragon, pebbles and dust avalanching around his feet. The stab wound in its skull was knitting back together; the severed claw was crawling back to its slow-bleeding joint. There was an agonized hiss, forced through the dragon’s tightly-clenched teeth, and a vibrating groan, deep in its chest, as it gathered itself out of death.

Its eyes opened, in wary slits - not the bright, acid green, but a stunning, oceanic blue.

“OW. FUCK,” it growled, in Kaiba’s voice, magnified and twice as resonant. “OPEN MASTER COMMANDS, USER ID 000002510. SUSPEND ALL PAIN ALGORITHMS. CLOSE MASTER COMMANDS.”

He rolled upright, flexing his wings with experimental care. He arched his neck, looking down at Ryou.

“YOU TURNED ME INTO A DRAGON.”

“Yes,” Ryou said cautiously.

“NO ONE HAS EVER TURNED ME INTO A DRAGON BEFORE,” Kaiba said. ”SO I WASN’T WORTHY? IS THIS WHAT IT MEANS TO SUFFER THE DRAGON’S FATE? EVERYONE WHO KILLS THE DRAGON BECOMES THE DRAGON, AND ONLY THE CHOSEN ONE BREAKS THE CYCLE. IS THAT HOW IT GOES?”

“That’s how it goes.”

“HOW DO I FIND THE CHOSEN ONE?”

“You choose them,” Ryou said. “You decide what makes them worthy.”

"SO ANYONE CAN BE THE CHOSEN ONE? ANYONE CAN BREAK MY CURSE?"

"That's right."

Kaiba pondered that for a moment, flexing his claws idly in the dirt, the massive slabs of muscle in his shoulders shifting as he tested the strength and fit of his new draconic body. His gaze drifted out over the lower valley, eyes clouding briefly with memories of another story, another game, another man; one who had always seemed real and unreal, all at once, no matter what world he lived in. Ryou had heard it all from Yuugi.

Then Kaiba looked at him and started to laugh, a sound that echoed and rebounded across the small lake valley, the water shivering as each delighted peal of laughter rolled across. Ryou blushed as it buffeted him from all sides.

“IS THAT SO,” Kaiba said, with dry relish. “YOU’RE HIRED.”

[birbleafs]

[fic] A Much Ado About (PSI)oulmates

Series: Saiki Kusuo no Ψ-nan || The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Rating: T Genre: Humour, Breaking The Fourth Wall Character(s): Saiki Kusuo, Aiura Mikoto, Satou Hiroshi, Akechi Touma, Toritsuka Reita Warnings: None, save for canon-typical shenanigans Summary:  Aiura decides to combine her divination abilities with Kusuo’s powers for a super special comedic segment on Affinity Levels. Fic can also be read on AO3 _______

Excerpt taken from clairvoyant Dame Mata-Mata’s advert for Amazing Psychic Services:

99.9% accurate affinity readings and guaranteed life-long happiness! Discover your twin flame with as little 10,000 yen per hour! Some would say it’s foolish to risk your future and wallet on such clandestine offerings, but we assure you, we are no worse than the underhanded brand marketing on children’s television series! Call 1800-TWINFLAMES -1234567 to book a reading today!!

***

Anyone who would believe such clandestine and shady offerings isn’t just a fool but a complete buffoon, Kusuo scoffs impassively at the flyer before him. This is definitely worse than the underhanded brand marketing on children’s TV shows.

“They’re a total noob at it, fer sure!” Aiura says, leaning in too close and posing next to Kusuo as she takes a wefie with her phone. “Like sure, the concept of twin flames and soulmates ain’t new, but to claim everyone has half a soul yearning to get jiggy with its other missing half for life-long bliss is like, a gross oversimplification.” I don’t really care to be honest, Kusuo deadpans. He stares sullenly at how Aiura’s arm is still wrapped around his; she offers him a cheeky grin and a peace sign, snapping yet another wefie before she finally slides away to the opposite seat. “Soulmates just have more natural affinity for each other,” Aiura says, batting her eyelashes at him coyly. “But just like with everything, it doesn’t mean you don’t need to put in any effort to make it work! Hey, speaking of which—the author has a super special birthday tradition where she writes and/or posts up a new story, so this fanfic can totally be about Affinity Meters, right?!” Don’t know what you’re going on about and still don’t actually care, Kusuo retorts, shoving a spoonful of coffee jelly into his mouth as he resolutely tries to enjoy his Sunday afternoon. But Aiura persists, easily breaking the fourth wall to elaborate further: “Just like how Kusuo can use the Affection Meter to quantify a person’s love for another, today we’ll combine Kusuo’s telepathy and my own divination abilities to measure soulmate compatibility via Affinity Levels! So, without further ado, let’s go, let’s goooo!” Aiura, no, Kusuo groans in quiet despair. “Miko-chan, YES!” Aiura whoops, fist-pumping the prologue away as the scene fades out. _______

i.

Satou Hiroshi

Conventional. Moderate. Regular. Behold the quintessential stock background character, the pinnacle of normality—Satou Hiroshi. Standing at a height of 169.9 centimeters and weighing at precisely 61.0 kilograms—the exact national average of a healthy sixteen-year-old Japanese male—he is the gold standard, the epitome of normal. It’s a shame then that few recognize Satou-kun’s remarkable ordinariness, Kusuo muses, watching said background character ambling down the sidewalk with an approving smile. Nevertheless, perhaps that may be to my benefit. Surely our Affinity Levels must be pretty high; after all, we’re both normal and regular high-school teens who do not stand out much— “I don’t think using your powers to make yourself inconspicuous counts though,” Aiura says as she glances over Kusuo’s shoulder, puzzled at his fixation on someone so… well, boring. Kusuo isn’t even listening. We both have regular aspirations and hobbies, seeking only to live peaceful days! “Funnily, I now remember peeking at Normal-kun’s fortune for Hii-chan. And get this, his biggest dream is being on stage as a rock star! Like seriously, how typical can he get?” —So, taking into consideration all of the above, Kusuo presses on, undeterred by Aiura’s commentary, surely we would hit it off as friends with optimal affinity levels! “Uhm, Kusuo?” Aiura nudges him with her elbow, pointing at the meter hovering beside them. “Not to be a wet blanket and all, but the Affinity Meter started running again as you were waxing lyrical earlier, so now it’s showing that Normal-kun and your Affinity Levels are like, really just two stars at best.” She leans forward, squinting at the screen. “Simply because he thinks you’re okay but still a bit of a weirdo. Dayum, the nerve of this twerp!” Kusuo stares wordlessly at her for a beat, slack-jawed. A-Ahyuu…?

Affinity Level: ☆☆ _______

 ii.

Akechi Touma

“It pains me to have to do this,” Aiura lets out a dramatic sigh. “But since Childhood Friends is a pretty popular trope in animanga, and therefore in fanfiction, I guess there’s no avoiding it.” Kusuo scowls, not liking where this is heading at all. It can totally be avoided. We can just avoid talking about it altogether. “Is that you, Kusuo-kun?” Akechi says as he suddenly appears at Kusuo’s side, curiosity in his eyes. “Oh, I see Aiura-san is here as well. I couldn’t help but notice how you two were standing and talking together so I thought I should come say hello, even though I was rather hesitant at first. I didn’t want to abruptly barge into your conversation, you see, as that would have been awfully rude, and I certainly don’t wish for you to think of me as rude, Kusuo-kun.” Yet here you are barging in anyway, blathering on incessantly like a runaway freight train, Kusuo remarks drily. “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear the mention of Affinity Levels,” Akeichi beams as he continues, unfazed by the jibe. “And I can’t say my curiosity isn’t the least bit piqued, even if I have little to no real interest or belief in the notion of soulmates. In fact, the existence of an actual soul remains debatable in scientific circles—” Exasperated, Aiura tries to interject. “Since you ain’t all that interested, mind if you just zip those lips for like five minutes? My hair’s gone all frizzy from the heat of your endless jabbering!” “However, these debates on the existence of the soul had also been instrumental to the understanding of the anatomy and physiology of the human body—” “Oh my God, please just stop yapping for ONE sec—!!” Aiura shrieks, tugging at her curls in frustration. She accidentally kicks the Affinity Meter to start running, and the lights blink and flash in a rapid blur before the meter gradually slows down to display four bright stars upon its screen. There’s a beat; the trio leans forward, staring at the meter in awkward silence. Kusuo’s brows are furrowed at the unexpected results; he shrugs it off as a fluke. Clearly there’s some technical issue with Affinity Meter (never mind that the meter works, in part, based on Aiura’s divination abilities, which have, to date, always been accurate). There’s just no way Akechi could ever beat Satou-kun on that scale, he’s too much of an abnormal— But Aiura is already moving forward, reaching out to grasp Akechi’s hand in a firm handshake. “Aiura-san? Is there something…?” She acknowledges Akechi’s curious gaze with a curt nod. “All right, I can’t deny it any longer. Not with that impressive detective aura of yours and with results like that on both Kusuo and my own Affinity Meter.” Oi, oi. Don’t start spouting weird nonsense now, Miss Abnormal! “All right, Akeinu! I hereby deem you a worthy rival in the fight to stand as Kusuo’s trusted sidekick!” “Oho! You’ve even given me a cutesy nickname as acknowledgment! I must say I’m quite flattered, Aiura-san.” How about I side-kick both of you out of my life right now? Kusuo sighs, mildly perturbed by this unexpected turn of events.

Affinity Level: ☆☆☆☆ _______

iii.

Toritsuka Reita

…… …… …… What, did you seriously think Toritsuka was getting a proper scene? He’s already way too pathetic. NEXT— “W-wait, did you just cut my scene?!” Toritsuka shrieks from the void like a headless chicken. “Don’t just write me off, Saiki-saaan!!” —Saiki exits stage left, pursuing normalcy. “And don’t just narrate yourself out!!”

Affinity Level: N.A. _______

iv. Aiura Mikoto

“At first glance, you might think we make for an odd couple,” Aiura says with a coquettish smile. “And how it seems absolutely cray that we could get along. Or like, that we don’t mesh just ‘cause our personalities clash way too much or somethin’.” She chuckles at the notion, running perfectly manicured nails through her luscious locks. “I mean, it’s obvs only those inexperienced with the inner workings of the heart would think that. Because opposites attract, y’know? It’s the push-pull dynamism between us that spices things up! Like two tango dancers stirring up a flame on the dance floor—it keeps things refreshing and exciting, but still comforting and familiar in the end, like sharing a nice, warm bath at the end of the day, or cuddling up together at the sofa, feeding each other spoons of dessert…” Aiura pauses, blushing when she catches sight of the Affinity Meter fluttering gently by her shoulder, at the line of stars glowing from the screen, a beacon of reassurance of their status as soulmates. She turns towards Kusuo, suddenly self-conscious as she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Say, Kusuo… How about we head to that nice dessert buffet together and—” Only to realize she had been practically talking to thin air all this time. “H-Huh?! Aww, gimme a break! Where did you run off to this time, Kusuooo?!”

Affinity Level: ☆☆☆☆☆ _______ v.

Coffee Jelly

Good grief—finally some peace and quiet. Kusuo sighs as he leans back into the leather seat of his booth, in a nondescript cafe far away from his usual annoyances. He dips a spoon into his dessert bowl, lifting a dark sliver of coffee jelly to his mouth, and smiles in absolute contentment. There’s a soft whirr, and then a ping from somewhere below. He flicks a furtive gaze at the Affinity Meter hovering at the empty space beside him, curious despite himself. The endless line of glowing stars are probably a bit much, but he smiles anyway at the screen. Huh. I guess it works after all.

Affinity Level: ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

—End— _______ Notes:

It’s tradition for myself to spend my birthday writing and/or sharing a new fic (happy birthday to me!! lol). I also had this sitting in my draft for way too long and decided to kick myself to finish it. Apologies for any typoes/errors.

Comments and critique are always welcomed for my fics—I'd like to hear what you think, if you've enjoyed this! Thanks for reading :)

[dani-lam]

Slipstitch

Slipstitch

This was written for the @newsiesgiftexchange !  

The fic was written for @queenofbrooklyn and the prompt was ‘Sarah/Spot fic. any situation, modern or canon era (1992).’

It was a lot of fun to write and I hope you like it!

Find it on AO3 under ‘Slipstitch’ by Dani

Also, Thanks for the fanfic!  I loved it.

              Sarah had never heard of Spot Conlon. She wasn’t a newsie, she wasn’t from Brooklyn, there really was never any reason for her to have come across the name before. The first she had ever heard of him was when Les came running home just after lunch babbling about strikes and Pulitzer and how David was going to meet the ‘biggest, toughest, and scariest newsie that ever was.’

              “You shoulda seen them! All the Newsies were scared, all of them. Not Jack though, Jack just said that he would go to Brooklyn with Boots and David. He was so brave,” Les gushed at a mile a minute.

              Sarah couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.  She was sure Jack wouldn’t actually put David in any danger. “So, who is this big, tough, scary newsie?” She asked, ruffling his hair.

              “Spot Conlon.”

              When she actually met Spot at the rally…she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. She hadn’t really thought she had been expecting anything…but when she saw him, she realized that he wasn’t it.

              He wasn’t big, for one thing.  There were definitely a lot of boys in the building who were a lot bigger.  He was about the same height as Jack and David, maybe a bit shorter …he was thinner too, giving the impression of being even smaller.

              Tough and scary really seemed to fit, though. As he prowled around the stage, posturing and glaring around him, his eyes were cold as ice. Sarah felt a nervous shiver go up her spine, and could see why the Newsies were afraid him.

              Unlike the rest of the audience, however, Sarah was the only one who knew that it was all an act. David and Jack had planned it all in the days leading up to the event. They needed to get everyone working together as quickly as possible and they needed to get them to stop beating up the other kids quickly. It was detracting from their overall message, as David kept insisting.

              Seeing them play out the scene though, even Sarah was convinced.

              It worked beautifully. When the three of them came off the stage to join her and Les at the table, they were all grinning, flushed from their success.

              Jack sank into the seat beside her and took a big drink from the glass he had left on the table.  He was breathless and happy.  It was infectious.

              It took Sarah a while to realize that David hadn’t taken back the seat on her other side but was one chair further. She only had eyes for Jack, at least until Jack left her to go dance on stage with the ‘Swedish meadow-lark’. Turning to make a snippy comment to her twin, she was stunned to find the other boy, this ‘Spot Conlon’, there instead.  She sent David a questioning glance, only to get a shrug in response.

              “What’s a fancy Dame like you doing hanging out in a dump like this?” Spot asked, something like amusement dancing over his face.

              Sarah looked at him curiously, not really sure how to react to this strange new arrival.  “David invited me. I don’t usually get out in the evening, so it seemed like fun.” After a beat, she clarified,  “David’s my brother.”

              “An ugly mug like his has no right having a sister as beautiful as you.” He sent a quick smirk at David before turning his attention back to her. “So, what do you do? You’re way too fair to be a newsie.”

              Bemused, Sarah smiled.  “No, you’re right. I leave the newspapers to these two. I’ve started taking in laundry. There’s decent money in it, if you know what you’re doing.”

              Spot’s eyes immediately went to her hands, and he slowly reached over to pick one up, watching her face and giving her time to express her displeasure at his forwardness. When she only looked curious, he picked one up. “Your hands are remarkably soft for laundry.  My mother used to do that work, it’s definitely not easy.” He lightly traced a thumb over her knuckles.  “So, do you have a name?  Or should I just call you ‘David’s sister’ for the rest of the night?”

              Laughing at her own forgetfulness, Sarah gave him her name.

              “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sarah Jacobs,” Spot said, leaning over his hand and breathing a gallant kiss onto her skin.

              Sarah could feel a blush creeping over her cheeks.

              She was saved from answering because a moment later, everyone was moving. Spot had dropped her hand and started organizing the smaller kids, quietly moving them towards to exit while David went to warn Jack. Then, it was chaos.

              When Sarah talked to Spot next, it was all over. Kids from all over New York had come in support, there were more people than Sarah had ever seen in her life, and she was exhausted. It had been an incredibly long couple of days. She was going on about 30 hours without sleep at this point and knew that as soon as the adrenaline wore off, she was probably going to collapse. She just hoped that she could make it to a bed before that happened.

              Then Jack was gone, and it was like everything that had been keeping her going just drained out of her. She leaned against the wall outside the circulation building and strongly considered just leaving David and Les there and making her own way home.

              Spot sidled up beside her, and mirrored her pose against the wall.  “So, looks like we won.”

              “Looks like,” Sarah answered, too tired and spent to even care if she sounded rude or not.

              They stood in silence for a long moment. “I hear you punched out one of the Delancy brothers.”

              That startled a laugh out of her. “Hardly! I mean, I tried, but it barely phased him. Honestly, if anything, I tried punching out a wall….” She held up her scrapped and bruised hand to show him. “And the wall won.”

              Gently, he took her injured hand.  Testing her fingers and examining the wounds. “It’ll hurt for a while, but you should heal up pretty good. Might have a bit of scarring on your knuckles but it shouldn’t be too bad.” He didn’t drop her hand.

              “I guess my hand isn’t very soft anymore,” she said, embarrassed. She extracted her hand from his to hide it in the folds of her dress.

              Spot shrugged but let her take her hand back. “I don’t know, I think I like it better with a bit of character. Means you’re a fighter.”

              Sarah had no idea how he could make her blush so easily.

              Looking out over the Newsies lining up to get their papers, Spot started speaking again. “Do you think you might want to get lunch sometime?” He asked, keeping his tone casual.  There was a current of nervousness in how he held himself, and kept looking anywhere but at her.

              And Jack had left, without a word or a glance, without even saying goodbye. She didn’t owe him a thing. “I think I’d like-“

              She was cut off by a flurry of excitement that had burst through the crowd. Jack had come back.

              Things were moving so quickly. All of a sudden, she was there with him and they were kissing.  People were cheering. Sarah couldn’t even remember how things were left with Spot or how she got to where she was standing, surrounded on all sides by her brothers and Jack.

              As people started drifting away, making their way to their selling spots and getting to work, Sarah found herself with Jack on one side and Les on the other, making their way out of the circulation centre.

              She finally had a moment to get her bearings, and quickly scanned the crowd to see where Spot had gone. She didn’t want to leave things on a bad note with him.

              When she did find him, he was climbing into the carriage that Jack had just vacated.

              Their eyes met when he settled into the seat.  They held for a long moment, and Sarah suddenly felt incredibly aware of how she looked with Jack’s arm slung over her shoulder.

              After what felt like an eternity, Spot gave her a small smile and a shrug. As the carriage started to pull out, he tipped his head with his cane as he passed them by.

              Her cheeks warmed again.  “Goodbye, Spot,” she shouted after him, wanting one last piece of connection as he pulled away.

              Jack shot her a confused look and then his eyes quickly fell onto the carriage. His arm tightened possessively on her shoulder.  “yeah, go back to Brooklyn,” Jack shouted in follow-up.

              Maybe it was because she was so tired, and she just desperately needed to sleep, but she found his arm very heavy all of a sudden, and for a moment, she kind of wished he had gone to Santa Fe.

[crystal-moon-101]

I’m sorry, I’m not great at close up/slight dynamic poses! At least the shading looks nice...

Anywayyyy, here’s that ship picture I briefly mentioned before! This is suppose to be when Julie, Breach and Francis realized they were in love with their future partner. All of them had different circumstances when it hit them.

Also! I should probally mention that my redraws are also part of my own rewrite/reboot/remake or whatever you wanna call of it each show. I have a made up canon.

-Benlie-

It had been a while since Julie met Ben, went on a couple of dates, learned his secret, adopted an alien pet and watch Ben have fourteen baby chills. A strange life Julie got caught up in, but she is somewhat glad to be part of the galaxy world in someways. 

As for this relationship, is had been a quiet day where the two finally got a full date, without any chaos. It was also the time she got to see parts of Ben that he rarely displayed. His softer and cute goofball side, rather than overly confident hero pushed around. 

Yes, his bravery to go out and protect or save people is a big bonus to her, but seeing this calmer side made her realize just how complicated this boy was underneath, along with being comfortable enough to show her it. 

Her cute goof.

Notes:

A very up and down relationship for a while, but they finally  settled and become very much official sometime when they were seventeen. Somewhat thanks to Vilgax actually...

The pair have this cute little couple comfort thing where they’ll rest foreheads together. It always calms Ben, allowing him at least a moment to relax and think, thankful to have someone close as he does so.

While Ben has had plenty of other girls flirt with them, there once was a event where a prince alien was hitting on Julie. He was quick to put the prince in his place.

Ben likes to serenade her with his guitar skills~

Julie (With Ship as her battle suit) once beat the crap out of Vilgax when he was tormenting Ben.

It’ll take quite sometime before Julie’s dad will approve of Ben. He knows the kid’s not bad, he’s just protective of his little girl, especially with the kind of life he lives.

When his arm is replaced by the Omnitrix, she was one of the key people who helped him adjust to living with it, sometime using Ship to relieve the stress it put on him in the early days of having it.

She is one of the few people who can keep him in line.

When they get back together, Ben was absolutely nervous he would screw it up again, coming off a sweeter, yet more anxious at times. But she is patient, along with admitting she also caused problems in the past as well.

Many openly tell Ben they approve of her. His parents, grandparents, Gwen, Kevin, hell, even Azmuth.

They like having morning jogs together.

-Brex-

Breach had gotten herself caught up in...dangerous and dark matters. She was so scared, unsure how to process anything. So, she went to the only person she trusted at the time, Rex. 

The boy agreed to help, especially after seeing how distressed she was. Unfortunately, he ended up getting caught in the danger and the pair got stuck in a fight with some foes. Breach was wary, confused, hurting and panicked, her emotions uncontrollable. The fight, loud noises, people who hurt her, she couldn’t take it and snapped, her portals going crazy while she fled to the world of stillness. She had planned to stay there, away from all that scared and hurt her. But...Rex showed up, having chased after her.

Despite being battered, bruised and bleeding, this boy went to hell and back to reach out to her, telling her he wasn’t giving up on her, that he cares and wants to help, no matter what. 

She had never had someone so determined to help her. Most would cast her aside when they saw the ugly side of her. But in that moment, she realized something. Rex did care, he was her friend and he was real...and that she loved him for it.

Notes:

Their favorite movie to watch together is ‘Book Of Life’. The colours, characters and story always makes them happy. They even dressed up as La Muerte and Xibalba on Halloween.

When they first started dating, Breach was rather insecure. It was common knowledge that Rex was handsome with a charming personality, resulting in plenty of people flirting with him. It often made her wonder why he picked her out of all the other girls.

Rex loves their height difference, because he will often nuzzle the top of her head or hang his arms over her shoulders from behind.

They both support each other on the fact they both know they are powerful EVOs that can be destructive, promising that whenever either of them snaps, the other will do what they can to reach them.

When they’re older and live together, Breach actually uses her powers to move Rex’s old family home closer to Providence for them to live in.  

Rex has found a way to comfort her is by connecting their nanites. It keeps her grounded to reality and makes her feel closer to him.

When they start becoming friends, she likes to ask him all kinds of questions. Some serious, some not. He’s always happy to answer and explain how the world works to her.

You disrespect his girl, he won’t be afraid to disrespect you. (That or smack you.)

Her relationship towards Six and Holiday is somewhat iffy...but it gets there.

-Zancis-

It had been a a few month since Francis crashed with the Saturdays, hiding from his people. But over time, he started to feel...strange? He didn’t know what was wrong with him, so he began to invetiage.

Could he be sick? No, that wasn’t it, because it only happened whenever he was around Zak. They would still sass each other, but he knows it’s not old grudges jabbing away at him. Maybe his people put a code in his brain?...Nope, not that. 

He seems a good while trying to figure out what is wrong, when one day it finally hit him. Somehow, when walking into the kitchen one morning, seeing a dead tired Zak tying up his messing hair in the sunlight, was what made him realizes he had feeling for the fellow teen....it was also then he realized how screwed he was.

Notes:

It took a good while for Francis to gain the approval of each Saturday member. They were all so protective of their youngest member. Drew somewhat scared him the most.

His confession for Zak had...not been romantic in the slightess. Instead, he shouted out his feelings for him after a tense situation and argument. 

Zak is a very cuddly and snuggly guy, always wanting some kind of psychical contact with others. Poor Francis wasn’t use to kind of affection, along with how needy his boyfriend could get.

Zak is 100% the alpha of the relationship. He can be scary when he wants to be.

When they started dating, Francis did endly research on relationships (Both romantic and friendship), partner behavior and even about dragon, given Zak is partly one.

They still and always will love to tease and sass each other, making it somewhat a running joke to roast one another.

When Zak became aware of his feelings, he offer to start dating and see where it went. But it would take him a bit before he would start falling for his green boy.

As much as they tease each other, Zak is really the only person Francis can go to about his deep rooted issues. He had been learning a lot about family since joining the Saturdays.

Wadi is a hard core shipper of the two.

Francis swears he nearly had a heart attack after seeing what ‘The Hammerthrow’ was...

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

What If I Told You (9)

Characters: Jensen x Reader; Jared Padalecki; SPN Cast members at times.

Summary: You and Jensen have been the closest of friends for years after meeting on the set of SPN, but what will happen when you and Jensen have a kissing scene?

Warnings: Cursing; divorce; break up; angst-ish at times, but mostly fluff. For this chapter: Canon divergence from the show, spn-related sadness.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is divorced from an unnamed ex in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

A/n: Just a tiny bit more until the big one. Flashbacks are in italics.

The darkened wood of the porch swing rasped slightly as you swung back and forth, but the only sound that rung in your ears was your own heartbeat. Jensen’s eyes glazed as they stared into yours, the words he’d just spoken hanging heavily in the air.

“I was begging myself not to leave you.”

He gave you a small smile, as if to say a million words with a single action that was only meant for you.

Leaning slightly into his side, the scent of his aftershave filling your senses, you reassured him, “Don’t worry, Jay. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered.

His dimples appeared as he gave a genuine, gorgeous smile. “You know…” he began, gazing at the jade lawn and blossoming blooms of the small garden, “this is a pretty nice place.”

Taking in the scenery, you agreed. The home itself was picturesque. “Yeah. Something I’d like to have one day.”

Jensen gripped your hand tightly before Clint whistled for you gently, hoping to usher you into the waiting SUV to take you back to set. Jensen, Jared, and Misha had one more scene to film on location at the ‘borrowed’ house with the red front door and another down the road, but it was already nearing four o’clock in the afternoon and you were due back at the studio for make-up and wardrobe removal.

The two of you stood from the swing on the front porch and, to your surprise, Jensen walked you down the steps and sidewalk to your bodyguard’s vehicle.

Jensen quickly stepped in front of you to grip the handle, opening the back door and gesturing for you to slide in.

“Ever the gentleman.” You giggled, feeling a rush to your cheeks.

“Well, you know me… gotta keep it interesting.” He smirked.

You halted before stepping in through the open door and turned to face him. Jensen had caged you within the frame of the door and his body, resting his hands both on the door and the cool metal of the car’s frame, blocking you from the remainder of those on set. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust those he worked with, but he was a man that enjoyed his privacy, especially with those he was closest to.

You felt suddenly small in the confines of the space and under the watchful gaze of Jensen. He was the person you felt most comfortable around and knew you to the depths of your secrets, yet in this moment you felt as though all new ones were coming to the surface. You wrung your hands into knots behind your back as you swayed onto the balls of your feet, anxiously posing, “So, I guess I’ll see you at Rob’s thing tonight?”

“Yeah. Yeah—I’ll be there. I want to say ‘screw it’ and run off with you now and, uh… have that talk, but you know how it is. I’ve got to get back in there.” He said, seemingly nervous as well, but also collected and steady.

“No, yeah… I get that. No worries.” You sputtered, casting your eyes to your shoes for no reason at all, other than to avoid his.

“Hey.” He said, releasing the hand that was holding the door to tuck it beneath your chin, he index finger and thumb planting themselves to turn your face to him. “It’ll happen sweetheart. I promise. I’m anxious too, don't worry.”

You smiled in his embrace. He had an unexplainable gift of knowing precisely what you needed to hear. It was almost as if you were consistently thinking that you were going to wake up and it would all have been a dream; the kiss, the message, the emotions he had expressed, but he was doing everything to ensure you knew it wasn't.

“Okay. Promise?” you said with a smirk, extending your pinky finger.

He eyed your outstretched hand with a grin, releasing your chin to lock his smallest finger with yours. As he enclosed it around his own, he tugged it gently towards him, pulling you closer to lay a gentle, quick peck of a kiss to your lips that left a tingle in its wake. “Promise.”

He retreated to the sidewalk as you hopped onto the leather seat of Clint’s car and shut the door for you, waving as the car sped off down the street.

You cast your eyes out of the darkened glass of the window, eyeing the man who had shaken you to your core who was still standing on the gray sidewalk. He seemed even more beautiful in the late afternoon light that shown behind him, blooming in iridescence and arcs of color.

Secretly, Jensen was as nervous and apprehensive as you were, but he couldn’t deny any longer that this was what he wanted and now—now he was sure you felt the same. All of the trepidation from days past was slowly dwindling to new nerves; now he just wanted to make everything perfect. If he was honest with himself, this was no longer a question of whether, it was a question of how.

.....

Yesterday

“Hey man, glad you made it.” Jared said, not standing from his seat on his couch when Jensen let himself in through the front door of his apartment. Gen and the kids were with family in Austin in their new home, so Jared was by himself for the majority of this season.

“Yeah, thanks for the call.” Jensen said sarcastically.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I… interrupt something?” he enunciated.

“No.” Jensen replied immediately and a little too quickly. “No. Well—maybe? I don't know.”

That was enough to make Jared quickly stand. His long limbs carried him to where Jensen was pacing, fists shoved tightly into his leather jacket when his friend reached him. “Tell me what happened.”

“Well.” He began, “We kissed.”

“Yeah, and?” Jared probed.

Jensen looked at his friend with a slightly stunned expression, “I… I don't know, man. I don't think I’ve ever had a kiss like that. It was just supposed to be rehearsal kiss, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

Jared hid the smirk that was sneaking below the surface, an unmistakable glint in his friend’s eye—it wasn’t just a kiss. There was more to be told. “Okay, what else happened?”

Jensen paused, his eyes widening with realization as he replayed the rehearsed scene in his mind, “I said her name.” he all but sighed.

“Huh?” Jared asked, confused.

“In the scene… I said Y/n instead of Y/c/n… when I said, ‘I love you’. It was part of the script and I—I messed up. I let it slip.”

Jared could sense the battle raging in his friend’s mind, so he pushed further, “Okay, so what is it?”

Jensen raised a brow, curious as to where his friend’s mind was leading, “What do you mean?”

Using his height to boost himself, Jared perched against his kitchen counter, his long legs and torso making it easy to prop his hips against the marble and gestured towards his friend, “What’s holding you back? What’s making it so hard for you to admit that it wasn’t a slip up at all, but that you actually do feel that way for her? You said it was about your friendship—that you didn’t want to ruin it, but could it be something deeper than that? I get it if you’re scared, man. You don’t want to get hurt again or put yourself out there if it’s not given back. But answer me this…  Was there anything behind that kiss that makes you question it? In that moment, did you even question if she felt it too?”

Jensen let himself relive the feeling of holding you in his arms, the softness of your skin underneath his fingertips, and the fire that erupted in his chest the minute his lips touched yours.

Jared’s lip curled at the edges as he watched Jensen’s expression shift from shock and confusion to realization as he asked, “Do you really think she—”

“Yeah.” Jared interrupted, clasping his friend on the shoulder. “Yeah, I think she does. Now, the only question is: are you going to let your fear of ruining your ‘friendship’ ruin any chance with her, or are you gonna go for it? Because, if you want my advice—which you always do…” he said, giving a slight, boastful bow, “I think you should go for it. No more games, no more ‘what-ifs’… nothing. Just take the dive.”

Jensen felt his chest tighten with excitement at the thought. Giving his friend a nod and a smile, he left with a resolve and a dinner appointment with the executives of the studio fast approaching, one which he could only hope would pass quickly.

After reaching your voicemail later that night, he only contemplated stopping by your place about five hundred times before returning to his own apartment, sauntering in through the hallway littered with photos. He wasn’t always a nostalgic or ‘feely’ guy, but when it came to his friends and family, he liked to have a reminder of who was behind him through it all. He passed photos of his parents and siblings, of childhood friends who stood the test of time into adulthood, and of Jared and Misha.

Jensen took pause in front of one taken about a year ago, of the two of you on set in Impala. You were nestled under the crook of his arm, tucked into his side and holding him around his waist, but your face was beautifully lit up with laughter. Your eyes were closed, and a brilliant smile made your cheeks a rosy tint. He had just told you what was probably the lamest joke in history, but it tickled you to well into tears after the photo was snapped.

Trust. Laughter. Safety. Excitement. Love. Everything he’d ever want in a relationship—and it was right in front of him.

He couldn’t wait anymore, he had to jump in.

.....

Jared bounded down the front steps in his Sam Winchester attire and clapped Jensen on the shoulder, “Hey man. You gonna take my advice?”

A grin fell upon his lips as your car slipped from view, “Yeah… Yeah, I am.”

<Series Masterlist / Part 10>

A/n 2: I received an anon ask when I was looking for fic ideas(see below) for a Jensen x actress!reader fic a while ago, but recently got hit with a spark of inspiration. This is based off of the song “What if I Said” by Anita Cochran and Steve Wariner and will be a short mini-series. Also there is a wife mentioned in some parts, but I purposefully left this person nameless as to not insinuate anything for Jensen’s real life.                                                                

Anonymous said: Hi! Just saw your post about looking for fic ideas. I’ve had this idea that I really like where reader is an actor on Supernatural and is friends with Jensen. They have a scene where they have to kiss or even just have to be right up in each other’s space and it makes them realize they like each other. It’s probably a common thing to write about, but I thought I’d ask anyway. Thanks!

[justagaymess]

A Spider’s Web

Warnings: Pranks. One swear. Just fluff and pranks.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1507

Summary: You love Halloween, Natasha doesn’t. You make it your mission to make halloween difficult for Nat.

A/N: I feel like I should say that in every pic I write Nat’s height is based off of ScarJo’s height (5’3) not the canon height (5’7).  This was written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ All things fall writing challenge.

You love Autumn. Every bit of it. The colors of the leaves, the ever increasing cold, but most of all, you loved Halloween. It’s been your favorite holiday your entire life. As a kid, your parents could not get you out of your costume with out a giant tantrum. You were indignant when it was time to take down decorations. If you had your way the skulls, witches, bats, and ghouls would be up all year round. But, your girlfriend didn’t like halloween as much, or really at all. She isn’t a holiday person in general, probably because she didn’t get the chance to celebrate thanks to the years in the red room. You’ve toned down your decorating a little. And by toning it down, you don't decorate your bedroom or bathroom anymore, but you still kinda do. Subtly. Pumpkin spice candles, and soap, and air freshener, Apple cider surface cleaner, and so on. You tried to restrain yourself this year, you really did. But you couldn’t. You found decorative pumpkins and little knick knacks at a clearance bin in target. Natasha was going to hate you. 

“Oh well,” you think to yourself. “She isn’t here so…” you smile as you put up fake cobwebs and spiders around the corners of your apartment, and little witches and bats. It took you a while, but you finally finished decorating your shared apartment and settled on the couch with some apple cider and put on Halloweentown, because you’re nothing if not a sucker for Disney original halloween movies. Liho jumped up and joined you, laying his head on your thigh. You grabbed your favorite blanket and covered the two of you, careful to keep the blanket off of his head. The blanket smelled like Natasha despite the fact that she hadn’t been home in weeks. 

From what little information you could gather through 5 minute conversations every other day, Natasha was undercover, posing as some big name model, or something, trying to infiltrate a ring of some kind. You really don't know and if you’re being honest, you really don't care, you just want to know she’s safe. Which you sort of do, you haven’t seen her but you talked to her the night before. 

Once your apple cider was gone and the movie was over it was pretty late and you were getting tired. You hauled yourself off the couch, still wrapped in the warm blanket. You took yourself to the bedroom and flopped down, cuddling with Natasha’s pillow. Liho jumped up and laid himself right at the foot of the bed. You fell asleep quickly, snuggling deeper into the pillow and blankets. You dreamt of her, of how she hated the holidays but put up with them because she loved you, though she hadn’t said it yet. You knew it though, you knew she loved you.

Morning light streamed through the blinds, adding soft glow to the room. You opened your eyes and saw a fiery red glow in front of you. A smile grew on your face before scooting forward and wrapping your arm around her waist and kissing her head. Natasha grumbled and tried to bury herself in the blankets, pulling away from you. You just snuggle closer, burying yourself in her hair and inhaling her scent. She pressed her back against your chest and grabbed your hand.

“Good morning, baby,” Natasha spoke quietly, her voice heavy with sleep. She intertwined your fingers. 

“You’re home,” Nat could practically hear the smile in your voice as she turned to face you. She had dark circles under her eyes but she was still the most beautiful person you’d ever met. She laid her hand on your cheek and kissed you gently. “I missed you,” you said to her. “I was almost too distraught to decorate.” You gave her a shit-eating grin and she shook her head.

“Well I’m glad you made it through.” She smiled at you before pulling herself up and getting out of bed and pulling you along with her. As you got dressed she headed to the bathroom. You hear a long, loud groan. “Why?” She yelled. You raise and eyebrow and stand in the doorway. “Only you, literally, only you, would buy pumpkin toothpaste.” She threw the tube at you before rummaging through the cabinets to find the regular mint paste. You chuckled, set the tube down on the counter and went back to getting yourself ready.

You were in the kitchen reading the newspaper when Nat walked in. She was obviously ready for a lazy day. One just spent on the couch watching crappy movies and eating junk food. She grabbed a mug down from the cupboard and went to pour some coffee. Before she did, she dumped out the mug and 3 fake spiders fell out. You grinned and she threw them at you, getting tangled in your hair. 

“Again, I ask, why?” You shrug, pulling the bright orange pieces of plastic out of the tangled mop on your head.

“It’s fun.”

“Maybe for you,” you just chuckled and went back to reading.

—

Nat and you were going to go for a walk, enjoy the colors of the leaves, the sweet smell of the trees, and the rain. You both pulled on your boots, hats, and Natasha headed to the closet to grab out jackets and scarves. As she pulled open the door, the motion triggered a three foot tall witch to start cackling, scaring Natasha. Or more accurately making her flinch, barely, and sigh, and throw shoes at you that were in the closet. Ducking and dodging her attacks were tricky, but eventually you got close enough to pick her up and throw her over your shoulder.

“Put me down, Y/N!” She yells and hits your back. You set her down, giving her a quick kiss on the temple. “Why on earth did you put a motion activated witch in our closet?”

“I wanted to see how you’d react.” You state simply, shrugging your shoulders.

—

“Babe, have you seen my keys?” Natasha yelled from the front room. They weren’t in any of the normal spots. All of the halloween stuff was cluttering up every surface in their apartment, barely enough room to put her keys down on a surface not covered in pumpkin shaped mats or a bat table runner or what have you.

“No I haven’t,” You reply snickering. She narrowed her eyes and looked more intently at the ‘stupid’ decorations. She groaned when she looked up and saw her keys suspending from the fake cobweb. She grabbed them and went storming into the kitchen.

“This is getting ridiculous,” she folds her arms over her chest. “Not getting, it is.” She shook her head. 

“You don't like my decorations.” She narrows her eyes at you and clenches her jaw. You lower your eyes and frown, knowing you shouldn’t joke or push her. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, she sighs. 

“I love that you love fall so much, but it gets to be too much. The little pranks and such.” You nodded. “I’m going to the store, don't do anything dumb while I’m gone.” She hugged you and started to head out.

“No promises.” You call after her, smiling lightly.

—

Nat wasn’t going to lie to herself, she was hoping that some of the decorations would have been taken down by the time she got home, none were. In fact there were more. More skeletons, bats, and the most annoying the stupid spider webs. They hung off of everything. The counters, the coat rack, maybe even the bed when you were done with them. So when Natasha got home and the first thing she did was run into a spiderweb hanging low enough for even her to walk through, she knew that this season was only going to get more rough. 

Those fake spiders webs seemingly hung from every surface and from every doorway. They hung down low enough for them to hit her in the face. Walking into the bedroom one of them seemingly had more weight and she pulled it down. She looked down at her hand and furrowed her brow when she saw the ring. She looked up and started to wander around, looking for you. She found you in the kitchen.

“What is this?” She asked putting out her hand.

“Shit, I thought you’d be home later. That’s uh, that’s a ring.” You said rubbing your neck with a shy smile. “I was going, am going to propose.” You chuckled lightly, looking down at your feet. “What would you say, if I, when I propose.” 

“Oh my gourd, I think the crystal ball is working. The spirits are telling me, you’re a dumbass. How did I fall in love with you?” She threw her arms around you and gave you a kiss. “Of course I’d say yes.”

“Oh good.” You wrapped your arms around her and squeezed her tightly. “Well, I guess that’s your ring now.” She slipped the ring on and kissed you again.

[takingcourage]

OTP Prompt #10: Jaime x MC

This request from @krishu213 gave me the perfect excuse to expand on a future scene that’s hinted at within canon. It’s super cheesy, but you all know by now that cheese is the inevitable result of me writing this pairing. I hope it’s enjoyable anyway. : ) 

The prompt itself is in bold. 

Words traveled in one ear before tumbling out through the other side. His senses alight with anticipation, Jaime nodded a little too eagerly at Aubrey’s response to the question he’d posed. Perhaps if he appeared to be engaged, the efforts would disguise his wandering mind. 

He’d had the best intentions when he’d started the conversation with the other man some moments before, but one particular distraction kept getting the better of him. 

It wasn’t the twinkling lights above their heads, surreal and pleasing though they were. Nor was it the harmonious blend of piano and violin: a program carefully selected for the occasion as a favor from Tony. The dessert buffet in the corner, impeccable as it was, couldn’t even hold his notice. 

On another night, he might have given his attention to any thousand trivial matters. Parties were always full of problems: electrical cords needing to be secured with extra tape, precarious trash cans standing ready to be emptied, thermostats requiring just a minor adjustment to make sure all of the guests were comfortable... If he were looking, Jaime could have found no shortage of issues to fix. 

Tonight, however, he was immune to all possible problems. He’d found perfection, and nothing could steal his focus.

Arden had it all. 

She’s had it for quite a while, he mused, a smirk tugging at his lips as fresh movement caught his eye. 

A vision floated along the opposite end of the room, oblivious to his attentions. Her gait was unnaturally graceful -- a quality Jaime rarely saw outside of her media appearances. He could still hear the satisfaction in her voice when she’d called to tell him about finding the perfect shoes. Though it was a triumph he could only appreciate by proxy, any pair of heels that made it past his entry rug was a thing to be celebrated. At this height, he could easily whisper in her ear, catching each blush that stole across her cheeks from the corner of his eye.

His gaze wavered again, drawn by skirts that billowed out with every gliding step. Jaime’s mouth grew suddenly dry upon realizing how the forward momentum made the fabric cling to the gentle curve of her hips, and he swallowed hard against the reminder of how it felt to have her in his arms. Despite the double layers of cloth and the delicate beading, the gown was surprisingly thin -- something he’d come to discover only when the two of them were taking pictures an hour before. Fingers making making contact with supple skin, the warmth beneath his touch had caught him off guard. His ensuing thoughts had been enough to earn him a playful elbow to the ribs the next time the photographer had turned away. 

She was closer now -- close enough for him to make out the variegated blooms behind her temple. Deep plum and white, the Lenten roses stood in stark contrast to her dark hair, its short waves tousled to perfection. He’d taken special care in selecting them for her that morning, imagining the whole time what it would be like to detach each blossom when the night was over. He savored the hope that she would be patient enough to let him untangle her hair with his fingers. 

But even with all of those wonders, it was another feature that captivated him most. 

Arden was used to faking smiles for the camera. She could conjure genuine-looking grins on command, making guests and viewers feel instantly at ease. It was one of the traits that had made her television appearances so successful. But for years, Jaime had been one of few who could tell the difference between a smile that was planned and a smile that came on impulse. 

He’d seen dozens of the latter sort today, their frequency doing nothing to cheapen their effect. Instead, they were reminders of her bliss: tiny confirmations that she was every bit as elated as he. Every crease of her smile held the promise of many more to come.

Aubrey caught onto his sudden grin and tracked his gaze, one eyebrow lifting when his focal point became clear. He patted Jaime’s shoulder before retreating beneath the canopy of lights. 

Jaime hardly noticed.

Time slowed as they closed the distance, his posture instinctively opening to welcome her to his side. One slender arm encircled him, each touch awakening myriad desires. Heady with the sense of her, his breath faltered on the next exhale. 

Arden’s own lips parted as her smile grew. Those deep brown eyes centered on his own, laugh lines made even more distinct by her nearness. She leaned toward him as he worked to control his thoughts, the added height making it easy for her to murmur words that set lightning under his skin. 

“Hello, husband. Are you ready for our dance?”

[bookburnt]

a primer course on T.MA for my mutuals who followed me from other blogs and would like to know what the fuck i’m talking about!  (hi, guys.  love you.)  GONNA BE SPOILER-HEAVY IN HERE.

First off, big ups to the T.MA wiki, which you can consult on anything here, but this post is intended to serve as a very basic overview of the concepts relevant to this blog without forcing y'all to go into wiki levels of detail.  The first part of this post is some general TMA terms and concepts, and the second part is some characters who have been relevant to Gerry's story specifically.  If you're here for a better understanding of Gerry’s arc and don't care so much about the worldbuilding, scroll down to where I start talking about “who’s...?” and that should help you out.

what’s a “Leitner?”  A Leitner is a book but spooky.  They make bad things happen and, optionally, give you weird powers.  They're usually tied to one of the fourteen(ish) Entities, which I will get into in a bit.  Gerard hates these goddamn books, and has a knack for finding them and destroying them.  His mother, Mary Keay, ran an antique bookstore that did serious business in them.

what’s an “avatar?” An avatar is a (former?) human working closely with one of the Entities. Over time, the influence of their Entity changes them, often granting them certain powers in exchange for a psychological and physiological need to serve their Entity.

what are these “Entities?” / what’s this “Hunt?”  Put as simply as possible, the Entities are, like... fear elementals.  There are roughly 14 different entities, though the boundaries between them aren’t clearly drawn in all circumstances.  As follows, a quick overview:

The Eye. Fear of being surveiled.  The need to know the answers to questions that may destroy you.  The Eye is tied to the Magnus Institute. Its avatars can have the ability to magically Know things, understand all languages, and compel others to answer any questions they ask.  Gerry was tied to the Eye and had some capacity for Knowing stuff, but wasn’t fully its avatar - or if he was, he refused to feed it, which must have hastened his death.

The Desolation.  Fire, but without the warm fuzzy bits.  Pure unhinged destruction.  Desolation avatars can and will set you on fire with their minds.  Gerry’s extensive burn scars are the result of fucking around with a Desolation cultist and finding out.   (The cultist also fucked around with Gerry and found out.  He’s not around anymore.)  

The Hunt.  Being tracked by something that won't stop until it kills you.  The thrill of the chase.  Hunt avatars are capable of killing other avatars, even those who would otherwise be unkillable.  The possibility of Gerry being tied to the Hunt is never discussed in canon, but I’ve got my theories.  (That last phrase is a link to a post discussing those theories, it just isn't showing up like a link on desktop for some reason.)

The End.  Death and dying.  Manifestations of the End often involve disruptions of the natural processes of life and death.  For instance, the fucked-up necromancy book that Gerry got trapped in after dying was an outcropping of the End.

The Corruption.  Bugs, disease, rot, etc.  The Corruption's avatars may spread disease wherever they go, or they might just be chock full of worms.  Potential of controlling a worm army.

The Flesh.  The inherent weirdness of existing in a body.  Cannibalism. Flesh avatars may be hulking, twisted parodies of the human form.  They might steal your bones, turn you inside out, eat you, or all of the above.

The Distortion.  The inherent weirdness of existing in a mind.  Doors that shouldn't be there.  Getting lost.  Being unable to trust your own thoughts.  Distortion avatars look, well, distorted when seen in reflections or through glass.  Will probably try to get you to go through a door that wasn't there before.  You won't like what's on the other side.

The Slaughter.  War.  Violence.  Man's inhumanity to man.  The Slaughter often manifests in groups as well as in individuals, so you could get an episode of mass hysteria where an entire small town turns to butchering one another, or you could get an office assistant who just aches to do murder.

The Web.  Spiders.  Being controlled by external forces.  Can operate in extremely subtle ways.  Can also just be an unkillable spider who wants you to have a bad time.

The Vast.  Really big things.  Heights.  Your own terrifying insignificance on the cosmic scale.

The Buried.  Claustrophobia.  Being buried alive.

The Lonely.  Being completely alone.  Like, completely alone, and never coming back.

The Dark. What it says on the tin.

The Stranger.  Something that's not quite right.  A joke that you're not in on.  Clowns and/or mannequins that might kill you and take your skin.

BONUS: The Extinction. While the other 14 fears have been established for a while (the most recent is the Flesh, which only really came into its own with the advent of mass meat farming), the Extinction is a nascent entity born of anxiety around the idea of the human race destroying itself, and/or being replaced by something else. The boundaries of what constitutes an Extinction manifestation, rather than just a warping of one of the other fears, are unclear.

what’s a “ritual?”  Rituals are ways the Entities’ followers and avatars try to influence the world, usually with the end goal of making our world somewhere their Entity can live and feast full-time instead of just sporadically popping in.

what’s the “fearpocalypse?”  The only successful ritual to date, as of the end of S4.  Possibly the only successful ritual ever, given that it ended the world as we know it and let all 14 fears fully through the gate to fuck everything all the way up.  The sky is full of eyeballs now and that's not even the biggest problem.  This happened a while after Gerry’s death, but I have a verse where, due to his previous ties to the End and the general befuckening, Gerry is brought back to have a bad time with everyone else.

who’s Mary Keay?  Gerard's mother, founder and proprietor of Pinhole Books.  Had ambitions of starting a dynasty of supernatural power, starting with her only son Gerard, who ended up having other ideas.  Flayed herself in a ritual to make herself “beyond death” via the fucked-up necromancy book mentioned earlier.  Gerard was primed to take the fall for her seeming murder, but was let go after the book disappeared from evidence and several key witnesses retracted their testimony.  Despite the ritual being incomplete, Mary remained tethered to the world of the living for five years before Gertrude Robinson finally wrapped that up.

who’s Gertrude Robinson?  Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, and a stone-cold BAMF with a habit of sacrificing those close to her for (her idea of) the greater good.  The late Eric Delano asked her to look after his son Gerry, so naturally she let him live in torment with his abuser’s revenant for five fucking years, then swooped in when he was truly desperate.  She got rid of Mary Keay for good, and got Gerard to travel the world with her attempting to prevent various apocalyptic rituals.  The two would often pose as mother and son to strangers.         Being tied to the Eye, Gertrude seemed to be aware of Gerard’s impending death.  After he passed away, she bound him into that fucked-up necromancy book and left him behind.  (More on that here.) Gertrude was shot to death about a year later while trying to burn the Magnus Institute down and thereby prevent its head, Elias Bouchard, from doing anything apocalyptic.  (Tragically, she did not succeed.  SEE:  “fearpocalypse.”)

who’s Eric Delano?  Gerry’s father.  Died too early to ever really get to know Gerry, despite the sacrifices he made to restructure his life for fatherhood.  (We don’t need to go into the why of it here, but he did have to gouge his eyes out to try to be a stay-at-home dad.  And he did it.  We stan.)  Unfortunately, he’d fallen in love with Mary Keay, who used him to produce an heir for her planned empire, then murdered him with a pair of garden shears and bound him into that fucked-up necromancy book.  She later passed his page off to Gertrude Robinson, who spoke with him.  In that conversation, he asked her to look after Gerry and begged her to burn his page, as being bound into the book was a world of suffering. 

who’s Jurgen Leitner?  A rich, reclusive Norwegian who thought it would be cool and smart to start a library explicitly for corralling forces beyond human comprehension.  (He was wrong, and also stupid.)  Collected spooky books and put his name in them, giving them their common name.  Gerard hates this guy, associating him with the books that dominated his mother’s mind and indirectly ruined his life.  He hunted Leitner down and nearly beat him to death for personal reasons.  Upon meeting Leitner, he came away with the impression that this was just a scared old man, and couldn’t possibly be actually responsible for Jurgen Leitner’s library.  Ultimately, he chose to spare Leitner's life.  Unless we're talking about my canon-divergent Hunter!Gerry au, in which case he did not.

        Anyways, hope this has been helpful.  There's... a lot going on in TMA, but hopefully I've hit the parts that are most relevant to my writing here.  If you have any questions about canon, please feel free to ask!

[whenimaunicorn]

The Pussy Willows Mission - Part One

Fandom: Wynonna Earp Pairing: Bobo Del Rey x OFC Warnings: Explicit, dubcon: undercover stripper gets coerced into things she didn’t expect

Timeline divergence note for canon sticklers: let's just assume that the Earp gang realized that Pussy Willows was owned by revenants some time before Bobo Del Rey was out of the picture...

The plan had started off perfect. Once we realized Pussy Willows was the center of some shady revenant shit, the next step seemed obvious: infiltrate the joint and see what the demons were up to. Wynonna couldn’t do it; she’d have been recognized. Haught had said “hell no,” and no one would let Waverly volunteer, so it was on me to initiate phase one and go get a job at the infamous strip club just outside Purgatory.

How hard could it be? Pose as a dancer for a few nights, long enough to get close to the revenants at their next meet-up, and learn exactly what they were doing. I had just enough confidence, and just the right lack of hang-ups or personal boundaries, to nail the audition and get myself assigned to the right nights.

My first shift wasn’t crucial. I just had to manage to not get fired before the weekend, when the real stake-out would happen. My plan was to be exceptionally mediocre at this job; take my turns on stage, make a few bucks, and just kind of blend into the background of the staff. You know, not work too hard.

The boss didn’t like it. Jonas had me pegged for a slacker within the first hour, scowling at me for hanging by the back bar and flushing me out to go try harder at drumming up business with the three customers making an early night of it at the beginning of my shift. I discovered lapdances were kind of fun, anyway, since these guys were following the rules and keeping their hands to themselves. It was nice to feel appreciated, if I didn’t think about it too hard.

I was enjoying myself on stage, shimmying into the mood and out of my clothes, when the trouble started with a flash of fur in the seats at the right-hand corner. Most of the demons in Purgatory had no idea I had an association with the Earp family. That’s why we had considered this plan foolproof; but there was exactly one fucker who did, and at the sight of his trademark coat I felt my heart sink lower than that panties I had just dropped to the stage floor.

Bobo Del Rey shouldn’t be here. Our informant swore up and down that the trailer park boss was not involved, that this gang of revenants was cooking up something completely separate from whatever his bullshit was. And yet, there at the end of the stage was that greasy black mohawk, the two-toned beard surrounding a lazy smile full of sharp teeth.

Somehow I managed not to trip in my 6-inch platform heels. I turned away from him and took a deep breath, trying to think fast without betraying the notion that anything was wrong. There was a decent chance he hadn’t recognized me yet. I was wearing a long, full, pink wig that was definitely not my natural hair color, and maybe he wouldn’t look very hard at my face. With luck, I could finish out my set without him paying any more attention to me.

I rolled my shoulders and snuck a peek past my curtain of fake hair in Bobo’s direction. A crisp dollar bill now lay on the stage in front of him.

Fuck. The place was so dead that he had no competition; there would be no way for me to pretend I hadn’t noticed him there, or that there was no time left to get to him for a little one-on-one tease before my song was over. Especially with the boss already suspicious of my ass… I was going to have to go over there.

Standard procedure is to get down on your knees in front of the customer, make some kind of friendly or sultry eye contact, depending on the kind of stage persona you’re going for, and then do a few seconds of body rolls or contortion-y dance moves that show off your assets, up close and personal to them. Overachievers might lean in and touch the guest, rub her tits on their face or whatever, but I was definitely going to try and get away with the bare minimum with Mr. Del Rey. Then you hold up your garter strap and wait for them to slide the money in, and you’re done.

Even the eye contact part of that formula was too risky for me; the cotton-candy-pink of the wig was probably only going to be disguise enough if he never got a good look at my face. So I chose the bored-and-sultry persona, dancing my way over to his side of the stage with a slow sashay, ending with my heels on either side of his dollar bill and my backside facing out.

My inner monologue had one shining, screaming moment of what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-with-yourself-right-now. Bobo had sat down at the stage after all my clothes were already off, and now one of our greatest enemies was about twelves inches away from my ankles and staring up at the bare cleft of my ass. But what else was a girl to do? I rolled it, popped it, and dropped it with as much skill as I could muster, then bounced on my heels with my ass sticking right into his face.

I dared a glance over my shoulder. I just had to; my skin was tingling under even the idea of his gaze. Bobo’s face had gone slack, eyes fixed on the bounce of my buttocks and whatever glimpse of my pussy he was able to get in between. The simple pleasure I saw in his eyes tempted me to bend forward, spread myself a little further for him as I felt goosebumps rise along the back of my thighs.

Because the other problem was… did I mention I totally had the hots for Bobo already? I knew it was wrong, but there was no denying the way that he made me feel the last time that Wynonna and I had a run-in with him. So there was a little part of me, a little part that was getting bigger and needier by the second here, that wanted to relish this chance for incognito flirting. To think that Bobo liked my body, even though he didn’t know who he was looking at… I undulated my hips and indulged the temptation just a little bit longer.

Bobo leaned in, closed his eyes, and took a deep sniff of me. It should have been gross but it really, really wasn’t. Pure, animal appreciation was in his gaze when he opened those eyes and locked them onto mine.

Watching his reaction from over my shoulder, I returned his gaze for probably a second too long. He snapped his teeth together with an audible click and I realized myself, flipping my hair to hide my face again. I spread my knees wide and dropped almost to my belly in my haste to distract him with other body parts. I writhed with an arched back before him for a few beats, then closed my legs and switched to a catlike sort of body roll on hands and knees, getting ready to transition out of there. That was fun, but now I was just about to lose my nerve.

I finished by sitting in front of him, one bent knee braced on the stage while I swirled the other thigh open and held up the elastic of the g-string just a few inches away from my exposed cunt.

Bobo wasn’t letting me off that easy. He picked the dollar bill up off the stage between us and traced it along the wrong leg, knee to hip. His fingertips brushed my skin too, when he ran it along my lower belly, and then finally backtracked toward the required destination. I thought I could hear a pleased little growling noise emanating from his chest as his eyes followed his fingers. He tickled me a little as he slid the bill into position, and grasped my leg in a light squeeze for just a second when I moved to pull away.

“You,” he said, eyelids narrowing as he inspected my face. “Come talk to me when you’re done on stage.”

I tried not to betray the chill that ran through me after that, smiling and nodding like the compliant girl eager to make a buck that I was pretending to be. I gathered myself up enough for a few turns around the pole before the D.J. started speaking over the final notes of the song. “Everybody give it up for Angel. It’s her first night tonight, guys. Give her a try, let her show you some love.�� The music shifted, and I tried to match its quicker beat as I swiped my outfit off the floor and strode down the stairs opposite Bobo’s end of the club. “Desert Rose to the stage next, Desert Rose.”

‘Come talk to me,’ he had said. I turned the words, and the inscrutable smoothness of his face when he had said them, over and over in my mind as I pulled my strappy thong and mostly-sheer pastel babydoll back over my body, quick as I could. For the first time that night, I wished I had chosen an outfit with just a touch more coverage. Had he recognized me? It could have been innocent, he could have just liked me and been asking for a private dance, but I was afraid I had seen something else behind his eyes.

So, I stalled. Another patron waved me over with a cry of “Hey, new girl!” and I plopped into his lap and chatted him up – at an angle where I could still keep an eye on Bobo. My hope that Desert Rose might catch his interest failed, as every time I looked up I found Mr. Del Rey continuing to stare at me. Every minute of delay made me more sure I was in deep shit; I highly doubted he would scowl this hard at any old girl that just wasn’t giving him the first turn.

He probably knew who I was. So why hadn’t he raised hell and had my ass thrown out as soon as he realized? What game was he trying to play, here?

There was only one way to find out.

With a polite little “let me know if you wanna get a dance later” for my new friend, I extricated myself from his lap and sauntered straight across the room to meet my fate.

Bobo looked peeved to be kept waiting. He sat at one of the high-top tables off to the side, one long leg splayed off the edge of his stool as leaned into his elbow and watched me come.

I’m sure my face looked guarded. Threat stiffens my back, makes me puff up to my full height and try to convey that I am not one to easily be fucked with. “Hey,” I said, bumping the back of my arm against Bobo’s table as I came to a stop before him, but making no move to initiate contact.

“Hey,” Bobo echoed, extending an arm to beckon me into his personal space. “Having a good time tonight?”

I ducked under his arm because it was expected, and his warm palm came to rest on the bare skin of my lower back. “Sure,” I shrugged, looking around the room because I figured I still ought not to let him get a good look at my face. I let the music take me, shimmying with my back against his front, and trying not to memorize his tobacco-and-campfire scent.

I felt his nose brush against my ear, his hands coming around to cover my stomach and hold me close against him. “You don’t belong here,” he murmured low, drawing out the words like they were something delicious to savor.

My heart skipped a beat but I still found a way to reply. “That obvious it’s my first day, huh? I’m trying to learn as fast as I can –”

Bobo cut through my excuses. “I know you. You work with the Earps.” One hand traveled up to the side of my face, pulling the hair off my cheek. “And now you’re here, of all the places a girl could get a job. This can’t just be a coincidence.”

I forced a breath out of my ballooning lungs. “Times are tough, man, and I heard strippers make great—"

“We could talk to Jonas, see if he thinks it’s a coincidence.”

I cut the shit. “Don’t.” My muscles locked, ceasing any pretense of dancing. “He’ll kill me.”

“Yeah, he probably will,” Bobo agreed. His hand wrapped around my hip. “But don’t worry yourself, Angel. Just keep dancing.”

I turned inside his arms, now that we were past disguises. “Why shouldn’t I worry? You keeping my secret, Bobo?” On to Plan B: keep the problem contained.

One notched eyebrow lifted. “Depends on what you’re here for, darlin’.”

“Nothing that involves you.”

Bobo took a long sip from his straw, chewing that over. “Can you guarantee that?”

I tossed my head. “You trying to be a part of this thing Jonas is cooking up?” I held his gaze as levelly as I could, pretending we already knew more about the revenants’ plans than we really did.

Bobo scoffed. “Hell no. I’ve got more important things to do.”

I shifted my weight, just a little bit distracted by the way the line of my body was brushing against his. “Then we’re good. No conflicts of interest here.”

Bobo tucked his arm around my waist more firmly, smiling down on me. “Then I can keep a secret, darlin’. So long as you can play nice.” He ran his palm down over my ass, but I was too nerve-wracked to enjoy it.

“Watch your hands,” I said, pulling away. “The guests don’t get to touch around here.”

Bobo’s face was smug. “Is that what you think.”

I reached for his near-empty glass, grasping at any excuse to walk away and clear my head. “Let me go refill your drink.”

My body slumped as I waited for the bartender. What exactly did Bobo mean by ‘play nice,’ and how far was I willing to go to keep this operation from tanking? This was getting way more complicated than we’d anticipated. Tonight was supposed to be the quiet night, the warm-up to establish my cover, that’s all. I didn’t need Bobo fucking with me on top of everything else.

And then Jonas came striding down from the other end of the bar at me, his scowl apparent even in the dim mood lighting. “What the fuck was that, Angel?”

I creased my brows in what I hoped was a cute pout. “What do you mean, boss?”

He motioned in Bobo’s direction. “He doesn’t look happy.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Bobo Del Rey was indeed glowering at me again. In a flash, I reviewed what our conversation must have looked like from the outside. My body language had not been very inviting. And Jonas already thought I wasn’t working hard enough. I tried going for the sympathy plea. “I had to walk away, he got handsy. I think you need to send Rodrick over there to remind him of the rules.”

Jonas didn’t even glance toward the bouncer. “Oh really.”

“Yeah,” I continued, though it didn’t look like I was swaying him. “Dude was being a real creep.”

He shook his head, face twisting. “Where do you think you are, princess?”

Damn. I had only pissed him off more. Bobo’s fresh drink landed at my elbow, and Jonas scooped it up with one hand while grabbing my upper arm with the other. “Come on.”

He practically towed me over to Bobo’s table, though I tried to walk with a little more dignity than that. Bobo’s eyebrows climbed, like he expected something really interesting to happen next.

I didn’t get a look at what Jonas’ face was doing, though there was an edge of tension in his voice when he spoke. “So you’ve met my newest girl, Angel.” He wiggled my arm for emphasis, and did not let it go. “Pretty, right? Nice set of tits on her. She doesn’t know how things work around here yet.” Jonas turned to me, eyes deadly serious. “This guy right here, he’s a very special customer. He gets anything he wants.” My stomach started to drop. “VIP.” He used his grip on my arm to thrust me closer to Bobo before releasing me. I stumbled a little, extra graceless because I turned to grab the table for balance rather than Bobo’s thigh. “You’re gonna treat him right tonight, aren’t you Angel?”

I swallowed the hot words that were already thick on my tongue. If I didn’t come off as compliant, a team player, then I doubted Jonas would let me near the important guys when the real shit started going down. If there was one thing I had to make him think I was tonight, it was revenant-friendly.

I settled into a silky smile, letting my spine sway. “Of course. Anything you say, boss.” And then, because Jonas was watching, I gave Bobo my brightest, most inviting grin as I pushed his spread knees out a little wider and settled myself between them.

“Good,” Jonas said, “show him what you can do.”

I rolled my ass against Bobo’s crotch. Table dances were a little tough in these tall pub chairs, but there were a few moves I could think of. I bent at the waist and put my hands on my knees, grinding my ass up, down, and side to side against Bobo’s jeans while I arched my back and tossed my hair. Jonas retreated back to the bar, but he watched me like a hawk. This performance was for more than just one.

I worked it good, in time to the heavy beat, but I kept the contact against Bobo’s body light. I wasn’t ready to know if I was making him hard. I felt his hand land on my lower back, felt it ooze up my spine, sliding under the sheer fabric of my halter top. Customers don’t get to touch, except Bobo does.

The song changed. I straightened and swiveled around between Bobo’s knees, daring to meet his eyes. Smug satisfaction and lust met me there in equal measure. The new song was slower; I rolled my body in half time as I stared down the enemy from just inches away.

Bobo raised his hand as if to touch my face, rings glittering in the flashing lights from the stage. I flinched, and he frowned, and I remembered Jonas was watching closely. I straightened up and let Bobo caress my cheek.

The boss was too far away to hear us talk, though. And speaking to Bobo like I wasn’t afraid of him helped me keep my nerve up. “I thought you said you weren’t working with him.”

Bobo smiled at me like I was cute. “I don’t have any deals with him, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want a deal with me.” His fingertips traced down my jaw, heading along the side of my neck. “The perks of being the baddest thing out of hell around these parts. He kisses my ass.” He leaned in closer, curling those long fingers behind my ear. “And that means you have to, too, if you want to keep this job in time for whatever fool plan you all are cooking up here.”

My breath slipped out of me, with a quiet little noise that Bobo’s ear may or may not have been close enough to hear. Being presented up just about on a literal platter here for Mr. Del Rey, it had my unfortunate crush bubbling up full force, making my legs weak as they struggled to balance around the tingling between them.

I could handle this. And I could even enjoy doing it, and show Jonas just how good I can treat his VIPs. Earn myself a place right on the lap of one of tomorrow’s revenants, or maybe even Jonas himself, as they had their little meet-up and spilled all the beans about their plan. All I had to do was live out one of my wilder fantasies, and give Bobo a really fuckin’ good dance right here.

Bobo’s fingers left the back of my neck, coming to idly play with his beard as he looked down the line of my body. Taking the hint, I thrust out my chest and undulated more widely to the beat. I let my hands run up my ribcage, tossing my head and arching my back so that Jonas had a good angle too, so he could see what a good sport I was being.

Bobo bit his lip as my hands covered my tits. I played with myself a little for him, made sure my nipples poked hard and strong through the thin fabric that barely covered them. His hands came to my hips, grasping like he was trying to keep control and inching me closer to him. “Jonas was right,” he rasped, “you’ve got some of the nicest tits I’ve ever seen.”

I mimicked what I had seen some of the other girls doing out at the tables, pulling the fabric of my top to the sides and letting my nipples pop out the top of my costume. I didn’t think we were supposed to be taking things off out on the floor, but technically all my clothes were still on.

Bobo groaned and leaned closer, and I ran my cheek against the shaved side of his skull. “You make a man wanna lose all control,” he growled, “and do some unseemly things to you.”

The lust was spiraling fast. I would have been much more afraid if we weren’t in the middle of the slowly-filling club, if my boss weren’t right there watching us. Because my desire was answering Bobo’s and I wasn’t sure how much control I was going to be maintaining either.

Bobo pulled back with a noticeable swallow, lidded eyes still fixed on the rhythmic motion of my body as I continued to follow the song. “What’s the plan here, anyway?” he asked. I got the notion that he was trying to clear his head too. “You a spy, 'Angel,’ just keeping an eye on Jonas and his gang?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he met my eyes. “Or is this the beginning of some kind of undercover sting operation. Maybe you’ve got some guns stashed somewhere,” he tried to look down my back, “so you can cover Wynonna in a hail of bullets from the stage later? Now that would be something to see.”

I dropped and rolled my body low for a beat, then came back up with a teasing little grin. “I’m not one to kiss and tell,” I quipped.

“Oh, you wanna give me a kiss?” Bobo let his lips part, gazing down at mine.

I put both hands on his shoulders, leaning in slowly. I ghosted my lips just above his cheekbone, close enough for him to feel my breath. “Against the rules,” I whispered in his ear.

“But whose rules are you following,” he whispered back, tempting me with a grip stretched wide around my ribs, both thumbs sliding up to tickle the bottoms of my breasts.

Fuck. I could pretend my panting breaths were solely the fault of the physical exertion of dancing, but that would be a bold-faced lie. The adrenaline and lust were mixing together in a cocktail more intoxicating than any alcohol, and I found myself wishing that we were somewhere more private, where Bobo and I could do more than just tease each other.

I failed to notice Jonas walking over, hypnotized as I was by the sensation of Bobo’s fingertips swirling over my nipples. “What do you think, Bobo, you like her?” the boss asked, smirking at the adorned hands that had just started palming both my breasts.

“She’s all right,” Bobo said. He dropped his hands to my hips and looked over at Jonas like he was interrupting.

Jonas wasn’t stupid. Reading the situation, he knew what play it was to his advantage to make next. He ran his hand over my shoulders, possessively. “I’ve got a good feeling about Angel, here. She’s gonna make me a lot of money. Once she learns how to work a little harder.” His hand came to the back of my neck and he turned my face up to meet his. “Why don’t you take Mr. Del Rey here back to the Champagne Room. Thirty minutes.” He turned back to Bobo. “On the house, of course.” They exchanged smiles. “Then come talk to me, we’ll see how you feel about my business after that.”

So now I was a bargaining chip. Bobo nodded to Jonas, not giving him much to read in his face after that final comment.

Jonas drew me back and pointed me toward the hallway leading to the “private” booths. Here at Pussy Willows, the Champagne Room was past all those, a truly private area with a door that closed and its own wet bar and tiny stage.

I guess I was getting my wish. I tried not to shiver as I put on a bright smile for Jonas’ benefit and reached out for Bobo’s hand. “Right this way, darlin’.”

Jonas grabbed my arm before I passed him up, leaning down to growl into my ear. “And since you seem so concerned about the rules, Angel: you let him touch you everywhere. And you do whatever he asks you to. He ain’t no cop. And I need you to make him feel like a king.”

Part Two Here

Taglist: @allsharingonebreath, @demoncrypt1066, @writingfromasgard, @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen, @peachieowl @savismith @ceridwenofwales @equalstrashflavoredtrash @ivarinleatherpants @fandomfic-galore

[mskinkykitty]

Stranded

Chapter 1

Pairing: Hux/OC Reader, Kylo/OC Reader 

Takes place right after Episode VIII The Last Jedi

Rating: None for now

Word Count: 7526

Warnings: Swearing, lots of silliness, OOC characters, canon divergent

Summary:  Hux & Kylo, having just lost the Battle on Crait, leaving the planet, the encounter some kind of anomaly, the more power they used to try to escape it, the more of a hold it seems to have on the command shuttle. Giving the order to fly into the anomaly, Kylo finds himself waking up in a very unfamiliar bedroom, with a young woman, sitting atop him.

A/N: There aren’t enough Hux stories out there, so, of course, I had to write one! This is meant to be silly and fun!

I’m also testing the waters with this chapter, if there is more interest, I will gladly post future chapters! Also, sorry for any spelling and grammatical errors, there’s only so many times I can proof read my fics,

“Mr. Solo! Mr. Solo, wake up! Come on, you were supposed to be getting ready, not napping.”

Kylo woke up to a woman straddling his waist, her hands on his chest supporting her and a bright smile across her face. He was confused and disoriented. Looking around, he didn't recognize his surroundings. There was light filtering in through a window, he could hear birds outside and feel a breeze rolling over him.

“Morning sunshine.” she said, the smile on her face getting even bigger.

“Come on, get up. We have to leave soon and you,” she said, poking his chest, “need to get dressed.” he watched her get off him, stand up, and offer her hand, that same smile on her lips.

“What did you do to me?” Kylo felt like he was waking up from some kind of drug induced sleep

“You did that all to yourself, Mr. Solo. I'm just doing my job and making sure you stay on schedule. But, if you don't hurry and get dressed, I'm sure Mr. Hux will have plenty to say and I know how you hate his monologing Now, come on, seriously, you need to get up, your fanboys await.” She laughed as she left the room.

Kylo sat up and looked around the room. He recognized nothing, not even the view out the window. Of course, the sun peeking in through said window was the biggest surprise.

“Where am I?” he groaned, swinging his legs off to the side so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Dude, seriously! You gotta get your lazy ass up, Mr. Hux will be here soon to pick you up and if I don't have you ready in time, it's my ass that's gonna get chewed out, not yours.” The woman said, a little more urgently as she came back in and started going through the drawers of the dresser sitting against the wall and pulling out various articles of clothing.

“What's going on? Who are you and where have you brought me?” Kylo asked, getting up to his full height and standing in front of the woman, trying to look as menacing as possible.

“Shit, are you serious right now? Jesus, Mr. Solo, exactly how much did you drink last night?” she asked, rushing over to him and holding his face in her hands, looking him in the eye, a look of pure concern on her face. “You're not running a fever. Oh god! Please don't tell me some crazed fangirl slipped you something last night. The last thing you need right now, is another possible baby scandal! Especially after last weeks incident. I swear Mr. Solo, you act more like a Hollywood celebrity than a New York Times best seller.” the woman sighed, setting his clothes in his attached bathroom.

Kylo was even more confused, but before he could question the young woman further, an all too familiar voice sounded from behind him.

“Is everything all right in here?” Kylo turned to see General Hux enter the room.

“Thank the stars you're here, Mr. Hux! Mr. Solo is claiming to not know where he is or who I am. I'm worried someone slipped him something last night.” Her worried look going from Hux to Kylo, back to Hux again.

“I'm sure it's nothing, my dear.” Hux said, leaning over and giving the woman a kiss on the cheek. Kylo noticed how it lingered just a little longer than was appropriate for acquaintances and how the girls face turned bright red at the attention. “Now, why don't you let me see if I can't refresh his memory.” Hux smiled down at the young woman. Before she left, he added, “and Jade, dear, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Please, call me Armitage, or Hux, at the very least.”  she nodded, embarrassed that he had to keep reminding her to be more familiar with him, then gave one last concerning look to Kylo and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“I was wondering when you'd finally pop in.” Hux sighed, running a finger along the top of the dresser, as if he was inspecting for dirt.

“Hux, what's going on? Where are we? Who is that girl? Is she the one responsible for us being here?” Kylo demanded, surprised at how calm Hux was over their current situation.

“Calm down, she's no threat, no one here is. We're on some planet called Earth and as ridiculous as it sounds, we seem to be in a different reality.” he sighed.

“A different reality?” Kylo scoffs, clearly not believing Hux.

“Yes, like I said, ridiculous, but it's the only thing that makes sense. What's the last thing you remember, before waking up here?” Hux asks, turning to Kylo, his hands behind his back in his standard general pose.

“We had the last of the rebels trapped in an abandoned base on Crait, but they managed to escape. Something happened on the flight back to the fleet.” Kylo struggles to remember, he knows there's something else, but can't recall what it was.

“There's was some kind of anomaly and it seemed to have a hold on the command shuttle. The more power we used, trying to escape, the stronger the pull seemed to be, then you gave the order to turn around and fly into. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in a much too comfortable bed, a cat curled at my side and the sun shining in my room.”

“And you managed to stay calm and collected the entire time?” Kylo asked, skeptical the general was as calm about it as he says he was.

“Of course. It's not the first time I've woken up, somewhere I don't belong. I assumed I had been captured, but once I surveyed my surroundings and took in all the information around me, I realized that wasn't the case. My step-mother, had come over to visit, and after feigning a bout of amnesia after a heavy night of drinking, I was able to find out the basics. She claimed I was drugged at one of your parties, suggested I press charges against you, for,” and Hux couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, “reckless endangerment.”

Kylo was more than suspicious of Hux's oddly friendly behavior. It wasn't like him, they've never had a civil conversation in the entire time they've known each other. He's wasn't sure if he'd ever seen Hux give a genuine smile, let alone laugh at something.

“You're acting...... strange.” Kylo said cautiously, not sure what to make of Hux's odd behavior.

“I've been here for nine months, there's no war to bring order to the galaxy. No Snoke. My father is dead, and my step-mother here is more pleasant then the one from my childhood, though they are the same woman. I'm not in charge of an entire fleet of battle cruisers, I have no expectations to live up to. Making sure your books are released on time, is really my only responsibility. Compared to being General of the First Order, it's virtually stress free, so of course I'm going to be different.” Hux huffed, irritated that he had to explain his behavior.

“Then, what about me?” Kylo asked, a little enticed by the idea of a virtually stress free life.

“You are Ben Solo, a science-fiction writer and I'm Armitage Hux, your publicist and public relations manager. That lovely, young woman is Jade Dameron, your personal assistant and quite the little spitfire, I might add, though she can be quite shy and timid at times.” Hux smirked, looking towards the door, where the woman had left. “You're personality is pretty much the same. The public refers to you as a male diva of sorts. You throw lavish parties, you've been in rehab twice for alcoholism. The party you threw last night was, ironically, to celebrate your successful release from rehab, which, to no surprise, you got drunk at. Honestly, I'm not sure which version of you I like better. The alcoholic party boy, or the tantrum throwing Force wielder.” Hux sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Why can't I feel the Force?” Kylo asked, realizing, as Hux mentioned it, he hadn't felt it since he woke up. He sat back on the bed and stared at his hands, waiting for Hux to answer, while trying to digest everything he'd just been told.

“Because, the Force doesn't exist here, only in the books you and your mother have written. Which, are quite interesting and all too familiar. It's a series called Star Wars and is quite popular. There's movies, toys, cartoons, graphic novels and quite the impressive fan following. Which reminds me, your adoring public awaits, so please, get dressed and I will explain everything I know so far.” Hux said, walking around the room, looking at the photos that were placed on a book shelf along one of the walls.

Kylo did as Hux asked with no argument, much to Hux's surprise and relief. Hux did tell him more about his lifestyle and the Star Wars series, which his mother was responsible for starting, and he was now continuing. When asked about the books he had written, Hux said he would explain it all after the book signing, and to remember to sign his name as Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren.

“I will also warn you, people who used to be your enemy, are now some of your closest friends and family members. Most notably, the scavenger girl, Rey, she's your cousin, Luke Skywalker's adopted daughter, apparently.”

“Did you say that girl's last name was Dameron?” Kylo asked, the familiarity of her name, finally sinking in, Hux couldn't suppress a chuckle.

“Yes, younger sister to Poe Dameron and Rey's best friend. Dameron works for your father and your mother convinced you to hire his little sister to help keep your schedule straight. From what I've gathered, hiring her is the second best thing you've done since writing your first novel.” Hux sighed, turning around to look at Kylo as he walked out of his bathroom.

“What's my relationship like with my parents?” Kylo couldn't help but ask after the mention of his father and since Hux didn't say anything about them while explaining his current lifestyle.

“Normal, though you are some what of a mama's boy, as they say.” Hux smirked at Kylo when he glared. “You're close with your mother, though not as close as you were before your first stint in rehab, but you do still try have lunch at least once a week with her.”

“And my father?”

“You get along, again, it was better before rehab, you've never been as close to him as you are with your mother. Apparently, he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and become a pilot, but, you followed in your mother's footsteps, and became a writer instead. You also have a healthy relationship with Skywalker and the scavenger girl. All in all, a relatively normal family, who get along and like each other. So, I suggest you try not to act too much like yourself.”

“What about my assistant?” Kylo asked, choosing to ignore that snide, little comment.

“What about her?” Hux almost growled, it was like he remembered not to sound to accusatory in his reply, while he was answering. Hux was quickly growing fond of the woman, had even taken her out to lunch a few times, just the two of them.

“How is my relationship with her?” Kylo smirked, seeing the irritation on Hux's face and all to eager to irritate Hux.

“Professional, for the most part. You don't seem to like or dislike her, for that matter. You barely give her the time of day and more often than not, are quite short with her. You only listen when she's telling you about your schedule, or something else relating to your work. You only hired her as a favor to your mother, which you constantly remind her of when she does something not up to your ridiculous standards. I don't know how many times I've had to stop you from trying to fire her over the most ridiculous of things.” Hux huffed, he was trying not to grow agitated with Kylo's questions about her, but, he couldn't deny his attachment to the woman, and wanted to discourage Kylo from trying to get to know her as subtly as possible.

“She seems to like me.” Hux did not like the Cheshire grin, Kylo was giving him.

“That's because she likes everybody.” Hux scoffed.

“She seemed to really like my body this morning when she was straddling it.” Hux scoffed, knowing exactly what Kylo was trying to do.

“You seem to be handling this all a little too well.” Hux glared suspiciously, as he deflected their conversation away from Jade. He had expected Kylo to throw one of his tantrums and start destroying the room, which is why he sent Jade away.

“I handle everything well.” Kylo hisses back, to which Hux just scoffs.

“If you consider destroying control panels, handling things well.”

Kylo was about to retort, but was stopped by a knock on his door, before Jade entered.

“Mr. Hux, Mrs. Solo is here.” she said, her tone still tinged with worry. Then she looked at Kylo and groaned, apparently forgetting she was worried about him in the first place. “Mr. Hux, you were supposed to make sure he finished getting ready, not just dressed.” Hux couldn't stop the affectionate smile he gave her.

“Sorry, I was questioning him about what happened last night.”

“No possible baby scandal?” She asked, looking at Hux, eyebrows raised as she bit her bottom lip.

“No possible baby scandal. For once, he kept it in his pants and returned alone.” Hux chuckled, never taking his eyes off her.

“Thank the stars.” She sighed in relief. “I'll make sure he finishes getting ready, but Mrs. Solo is asking for you.” She entered the room and held the door open for Hux, as he made his way to exit.

“Thank you, Ms. Jade, we'll meet you both downstairs.” Hux stopped next next to her before completely exiting and bent down to whisper in her ear, “I'll save you a seat, right next to me.” Seeing the intense blush bloom across her face, gave Hux the biggest smile, flustering her had quickly become his favorite thing to do.

Jade was pulled back to her senses when she heard the door click behind her. Then she looked at Kylo and groaned again.

“Mr. Solo, you are not wearing the shirt you partied then slept in last night to this book signing.” she said as she walked over to him, then leaned in and smelled him. “And you really need to put on some deodorant and cologne, you reek of alcohol! Come on, into the bathroom with you.” Kylo tried to protest when she got behind him and started pushing him into the bathroom.

“I can walk myself!” he barked, jerking away and glaring down at her.

“Then do it, and I won't have to push you.” she bit back, again, pushing him towards the bathroom. “I'm sorry Mr. Solo, but we don't have time for me to put up with your diva shit this morning. Now pee.” She ordered, turning and busying herself with things at the sink.

“I can't go with you in here!” he snapped.

“It's never stopped you before, why so shy now?” she said, not even bothering to look at him, finished with what she was doing, she turned back to him and looked at the toilet, expectantly.

“For fuck's sake, Mr. Solo, either you go now, or you go in a bottle in the car. You haven't been late to a single thing since you hired me, and we sure as hell aren't going to start today! Now either piss, or get over here and brush your teeth, so I can brush your hair!” she ordered and Kylo was starting to understand why Hux liked her. He was also starting to think something had possessed her after Hux left the room, since this was the complete opposite of the girl that woke him up and definitely, not the girl who had just been blushing over what Hux whispered to her.

“Fine.” Kylo growled, walking to stand at the sink, and started brushing his teeth. Jade pulled out her little step ladder and set it up, grabbed the brush that was on the counter, climbed up, so she was just a few inches taller than Kylo and proceeded to brush the knots out of his hair.

“OW!” he snapped, when the brush snagged a knot and she tried to pull it through.

“Shut up and brush your damn teeth.” she snapped back. “We're running short on time.”

Kylo finished his brushing the same time she did, with only a few more uncomfortable tugs. He then, washed his face, after being told, while she put the stool away.

“Now take that damn shirt off, put your deodorant on and come out when you're done.” she said, walking out to the bedroom.

Angry and humiliated, Kylo slammed the door and locked it. He took the opportunity to urinate, before doing what he was told.

“I hope you washed your hands after touching that dirty thing!” she yelled, from somewhere in the room, when he opened the bathroom door. He was beginning to understand why he would want to fire her.

After washing his hands, he walked into the bedroom, seeing her standing by his bed, holding a shirt up, with that same smile she woke up him up with.

“I thought about it a little more and I think this shirt over this t shirt,” she said, holding up said shirt with her other hand, “will be a much more appropriate combo for the signing. This is just a small signing at Luke's bookstore, I think it's best if we do a more casual look. Besides the ladies love a casually dressed Ben Solo.” she teased, then pushed the two articles of clothing in his hands and went through another door, which he assumed was his closet.

He looked at the t-shirt, which said, “Join the dark side, we have cookies”, he was quite offended and was about to yell at her and refuse to wear it, when she walked out of the closet and saw him just standing there. He was frozen in place by the glare she was giving him and he had never been more thankful that looks couldn't kill, in his entire life. Her calm and level voice gave him chills when she spoke to him.

“Mr. Solo. If you do not put those on, right now, we are going to have a problem.”

Kylo could have sworn he saw her eyes flash yellow, for just a second. Not wanting to test Hux's theory, of the Force not existing in this reality, he swallowed the lump in his throat and got dressed. Then quickly put on his socks and shoes while she busied herself  gathering, what Kylo assumed, were random items and placing them in a bag. Once she was done, she turned to him and smiled, seeing him ready to go.

“Alright, lets go! Mr. Hux and Mrs. Solo are waiting for us downstairs, with the car.”

Kylo followed her out of the room, into what looked like his living room, then into a hallway and to an elevator.

“Now remember, you're not allowed to answer any questions about the film adaptation of your first book and no hints about the third book. The publishing company doesn't want you to risk someone stealing any of your ideas and claiming that you copied them. You're having lunch with your mom after the signing, I've already made reservations at the usual place under your usual pseudo-name. Then after lunch, you have a conference call with the publishing firm about a few international book signings they want you to do. Then you have a dinner date with some unknown actress, you met at last night's party. I don't remember her name, I'll have to check the schedule to see what it is.” Kylo just stared at her like she had two heads. He had no idea what she was talking about. He would have to find out from Hux later.

They exited the elevator and walked through the lobby in silence. His mind still reeling with everything that was going on, and how did Hux expect him to get through this book signing? He'd never done anything like that before, and he hated crowds. They made him nervous, especially without being able to use the Force to scan the crowd for possible rebel threats. Then he had to remind himself, that there were no rebel threats here. Hux gave him the impression that they led a peaceful life, no warring, no fighting. No purpose.

“See, Armitage, I told you she'd have him down here on time.” Leia said, seeing Kylo and Jade exit the building and walk over to the car.

“You're right, Mrs. Solo, I never should have doubted her.” Hux smiled at Jade.

“Armitage, you've been friends with my son for how many years now? You're practically family, now please, call me Leia. Mrs. Solo always makes me feel so old.” She laughed.

Kylo was frozen to the spot, it had been years since he'd seen his mother and he wasn't sure he'd ever seen her smile like that. He didn't want to move, didn't want to look away. He was afraid if he did, he'd wake up back on the Finnalizer or some other star destroyer and realize this had all been a dream.

“I've missed you, Ben.” She beamed, walking over to him with open arms and embracing him. “Let me get a good look at you.” she said, stepping back and placing her hands on his cheeks, then to his shoulders as she looked him over.

“I've missed you too. I'm so sorry, mom!” he couldn't help himself, he wrapped his arms around her and held her as tight as he could. Hux and Jade just looked at each other with wide eyes, surprise, not being a strong enough word to describe what they were seeing.

Kylo was overwhelmed with his emotions. Without Snoke and the Force to guide him, he didn't know how to resolve what he was feeling. Without Snoke, his chest felt lighter, he didn't feel all the hate and anger that usually flowed through him with the Force. It was oddly freeing.

Leia returned Kylo's embrace, one hand wrapped around his back, the other on his head.

“I'm glad you're home.” Leia said said, releasing Kylo and creating some distance between them.

“I'm sorry to interrupt,” Jade said in gentle tone.

“Then don't!” Kylo snapped, causing Jade to flinch back and stare at the ground.

“Ben!” Leia chastised, “You don't need to snap at her like that. She's only doing her job and trying to keep you on schedule.”

“Let's just go.” Kylo grumbled, refusing to apologize to his bossy assistant.

***

It didn't take them long to reach Luke's bookstore and Kylo couldn't believe the line of people standing outside of it.

“They're all here to see you.” Hux said, seeing Kylo stare at all the people.

“Finn, can you pull around back and let us off there? I think it's best if we go in through the back.” Jade said.

“You got it!” Kylo looked up to see Finn smiling back at them from the rear view mirror. “Good to see you again, Ben.” he nodded, Kylo mirrored the greeting.

Finn pulled around to the backside of the building, glad there weren't any fans lurking about.

“Looks like Rey was able to keep the fans from lurking behind the store. Speaking of the devil.” Finn laughed when he saw Rey come running towards them.

Jade was the first one out, she didn't even give Finn a chance to get out of his seat before she was opening the door and running over to greet Rey.

“Rey!” she yelled, running to her friend.

“Jade!” Rey laughed, as they embraced.

“I've missed you! We don't get to hang out nearly as much as we should.”  Jade said, giving her friend a fake pout.

“That's because your boss is an incapable asshole, who can't comb his own hair without you.” Rey teased, loud enough to make sure Kylo heard as he stepped out of the car.

“Well, you're not wrong there.” Jade giggled in a whisper to her friend.

“Rey, always nice to see you.” Hux smiled, walking up to the pair. He had only recently started to warm up to the woman he had known as the scavenger girl, the Jedi of the resistance and a thorn in the side of the First Order. But here, she was simply Rey Skywalker, future owner of Skywalker books.

It was only within the last few weeks that he was starting to let his guard down and warm up to the group of people who had once been his mortal enemies. He was finding his new life, much more to his liking, than he would have, originally thought. Without the war, he found, they were all very likable.

“Hey Hux, still as stuffy as always, I see.” Rey teased, giving his arm a playful slap. “You should find someone to take that stick out of your ass, you might find you don't stand quite so stiff.” she laughed, before running off to greet her aunt and cousin.

“I think she's been spending too much time with your brother and her uncle.” Hux sighed, even though he was getting used to her occasional crude teasing, it never failed to embarrass him in front of Jade. Which he was almost positive, is the reason she did it.

“Aunty!” Rey yelled, greeting Leia before embracing her in a hug.

“Hello, Rey.” Leia chuckled, returning the hug. “Dad didn't tell me you were gonna be here. OH!” she gasped, “Is this a double signing!?  OHMYGAWD! The fans are going to freak!”

“It is. I talked to him a few weeks ago about it, we agreed to keep it a surprise, since his store can't handle all the people that would likely show up for that.” Leia chuckled, not surprised at all, that her niece had come to the conclusion so quickly.

“I was wondering why you picked us up today.” Jade smirked as she and Hux walked over to Leia and Rey.

“I wish I would have known, I would have made sure we extra copies of your book as well.” Hux sighed.

“Don't worry, I took care of it.” Leia said.

“Hey Ben, nice to see you back with the land of the sober. You gonna stay this time or should we just go ahead and tell them to keep your room ready?” Rey said, crossing her arms across her chest, giving her cousin, a less then warm welcome.

“Rey!” Jade hissed. “Cut him some slack, he just got back the other day.

“Give me a break! He threw a huge party last night to 'celebrate' his recovery. Judging by the pictures I saw on Instagram this morning, he was tossing them back like he was a thirsty man in a desert.”

“I think you're being a little to hard on him, Rey.” Leia said, putting her arm around the woman's shoulder and guiding her back towards the bookstore.

“I don't think it's hard enough. Aunt Leia, he needs a wake up call.” Rey argued.

“That may be, but you can't force one on him.” Rey just sighed, knowing Leia was right, to which, Leia whispered, “Though, I think he may have gotten it this time. He was different this morning, less stand offish. He didn't try to push me away, in fact, he gave me a hug. He hasn't hugged me like that since he was a child.”

Rey just looked at her as if her head had just popped off, then took a quick glance back at Kylo, to see him following Jade and Hux, his hands in his pockets and the same scowl as always. She decided she would have to keep a closer eye on him and judge for herself.

The group walked into the back room of the book store and were greeted by Luke.

“What in the world are you wearing, Mr. Skywalker!” Jade laughed when she saw him. Kylo had to fight the urge to attack him, the memories of the night he was almost murdered, flooding back to him.

“They're Jedi robes. Rey take Jade, so you can both go put yours on.” Luke smiled, turning to his daughter.

“You got me my own Jedi robes!?” she squealed, throwing herself at Luke and practically choking him with her hug. “You're the best, Mr. Skywalker!”  Luke laughed as he watched the pair run off.

“I think you spoil them a little too much.” Leia laughed.

“No such thing, when it comes to those two.” Once the girls had left, he turned to the trio left behind. “Hux, I got an extra set, just in case you wanted to join in the fun.”

“That's quite all right, but thank you, Mr. Skywalker.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, call Me Luke. Mr. Skywalker was my dad.” Luke winked.

“You'll probably have to remind me a few more times.” he said, giving Luke a polite smile.

Kylo was practically disgusted with the way Hux was interacting with his uncle. Like they were friends, and he hadn't spent the last, almost decade, hunting him down under Snoke's orders. Kylo was finding it harder and harder to control the anger and hatred he felt for his uncle. He wanted to reach out with the Force and strangle him, or better yet, strangle him with his bare hands, so he could feel the life draining from him.

“Thanks for doing this Ben. It means a lot to Rey and me, especially after the way I handled things.” Luke said, his attention on Kylo, seeing him practically seething in anger.

“Luke, you don't....”

“No Leia, I do.” Luke said, not letting his sister interrupt him. “Ben, I owe you an apology. Not for calling the cops and turning you in, I don't regret that at all. But for the way I handled the situation.”

“I think this might be better talked about after the signing.” Hux said, seeing Kylo's rage and not wanting to escalate the situation any further. He then pulled Kylo to the side and whispered, “Remember, he isn't the same as the Skywalker you know. You need to calm down before you cause a scene and make things more difficult. Just remember, they may have their faces, but these are not the people we know. These are not members of the resistance and he is not the Jedi Master you knew.”

Before Kylo could say anything, his attention went to Rey and Jade, laughing and swinging, what looked like, light sabers.

“Dad, you didn't tell me you got us light sabers!”

“That's because it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you.” he laughed, walking over to the pair.

“Thank you so much, dad!” Rey said, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Skywalker, you didn't have to.”

“Nonsense! Of course I did, you can't be Jedi without light sabers, can you.” He smiled. He loved spoiling the two girls more than anything and always found that he could never tell them no.

“No, but, who are the extra set of robes for?” Jade asked.

“I got them, hoping Hux would join in the fun.” He said, flashing a mischievous smile over at Hux.

“Really!?” Jade was giddy at the thought of having another person dress up with them. Hux felt like a deer caught in the headlights, when she turned and smiled at him.

“Oh, um, no, it's alright. I think I'll just stick with my suit.” He said, trying to sound as calm and collected as he always was.

“What? No! Come on, please!” Jade whined. “It's more fun with more people.”

“Yea, Hux! Come on, don't make dad the only guy Jedi.” Rey begged.

“Come on, Hux, you're not gonna leave Padawan Jade without a master, are you?” Luke teased.

“That's perfect, dad! I can be your Padawan and Jade can be Hux's!”

“I think Ben, would suit the role better.” Hux said, giving a nervous chuckle and not seeing the glare Kylo shot at him.

“He'll be too busy signing, plus, he doesn't like to do stuff like that. Please Mr. Hux!” Jade knew she sounded like a child, but she didn't care. She had always loved the Star Wars series and any chance she had to fangirl, she took it and she was always happy to take others with her.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Hux knew he had been defeated. After all, how could he tell her no, she was just too adorable when she looked up at him with those big doe eyes, and pouty lips.

“Alright, alright, you win, on one condition.” He said, quickly silencing whatever happy noise her and Rey were about to make. “You are not allowed to call me Mr. Hux for the rest of the day.

“Of course not, Master Armitage.” Oh, the things that did to him! He was suddenly, very glad he would be wearing loose fitting robes.

“Come on, I'll show you where you can change and Jade, we can put Padawan braids in our hair, while he's changing.” Rey said, leading Hux and Jade back to Luke's office, where the extra set of robes were.

This left Luke, Leia and Kylo, standing alone in the stock room. All of them feeling suddenly very awkward and Kylo, trying to control his anger.

“We've cleared a spot for the signing, the books are already set up. By the time they get to you, they will have already paid. Leia, I know you love to talk with your fans, but, there's gonna be a lot of people here and we want to try to get through as many of them as possible. And Ben,” Luke said, turning to his nephew, a teasing smile crossing his lips, “don't be afraid to smile at more than just the ones with a pretty face.” Kylo just rolled his eyes, and followed them to where he would be signing this book Ben Solo had written.

“Ben, I know you don't like crowds and large groups of people and Jade was very adamant that we accommodate that.” He said, stopping in front of a table with a Star Wars backdrop. It was near the front door, on the other side of the cash register.

“Meaning, she wouldn't agree to the signing unless, you did it.” Leia chuckled, shaking her head. She knew Ben hiring her would make his life a lot easier, and she was grateful the young woman was looking out for her son.

“Needless to say, even though the store will be overcrowded with your devoted fans, we've blocked off a nice open section, so you don't feel overwhelmed, and it has easy access to my office if you do start to feel overwhelmed and need a minute to breath.” Luke smiled.

Kylo wasn't sure how to feel about their consideration for his dislike of large groups. He looked at the boxes full of books, then at the line standing outside the store. He was starting to feel nervous. He didn't know who this Ben Solo was, or what these Star Wars books were about, so how could he interact with these people and be convincing. His anger was starting to feel more like panic.

* * *

“I look ridiculous.” Hux groaned as they joined the others. He thought it rather ironic, that he loathed the Jedi and tried to eliminate them, but, here he was, willing to dress up as one, for a pretty face. He was not thrilled to think about what Kylo would say about it later.

“No you don't, you look great! Doesn't he look great, Mr. Solo.” Jade said, her smile quickly fading when she saw the look of panic on Kylo's face. “Mr. Solo? Are you feeling ok?” She asked.

“I need to talk to you!” Kylo said, quickly grabbing Hux's arm and rushing off to the store room.

“Stay here, we'll be right back.” Hux said quickly, when he saw Jade try to follow them. He gave her a reassuring smile, when she stopped and nodded.

“I can't do this, Hux! I'm not this Ben Solo, I didn't write these stupid books!”

“You need to pull yourself together!” Hux snapped. “Do you know what will happen to you if you start spouting off that you're really Kylo Ren, that you killed Ben Solo to follow in your grandfather, Darth Vader's footsteps. To conquer the galaxy and bring peace and order, alongside with the First Order?” Hux gave Kylo a minute to absorb his words before continuing. “They'll think you've finally lost it and have you committed!” Staring at Kylo, not sure if what he was saying was sinking in, he sighed, then opened one of the nearby boxes and pulled out a book.

“Read the back of it.” he said, handing the book to Kylo.

“I don't see how this is going to help.” Kylo tried to argue, but Hux just shoved the book against his chest.

“Read the back of the damn book!” Hux hissed.

Reluctantly, Kylo did, his eyes only getting wider as he read the synopsis. The confused look on his face, said it all.

“In this world, our lives are a story. You're mother started them, she wrote the first six books, then passed the mantle to Ben Solo, you, to continue. Ben Solo based all the characters after people he knew, even gave them their names. This is the first book, the second book details everything that happened until you and I wake up here, minus the space anomaly that brought us here. So, yes, you are Ben Solo and you know exactly what these, damned books are about. We will get through this signing, and I will have Jade clear your schedule for the rest of the day.”

“I can't do this!”

“You can and you will! I have worked too hard the last nine months to fit in and to be prepared if you ever showed up and I will NOT! Let you ruin everything I have done!” Hux was letting his anger get the better of him, but he wasn't about to let Kylo invalidate everything he's endured since he woke up on this world. There was no way he was going to let Kylo ruin the lives they had.

“Now, you are going to stop acting like a spoiled child! You are going to suck it up! And you are going to go out there, smile at your fans and sign those BLOODY BOOKS!” Hux was panting now, he was so angry with Kylo, and with no Force or Snoke for Kylo to fall back on, Hux felt free to let loose his anger loose. And, damn! Did it feel good!

“Is everything ok, back here?” Jade asked, poking her head through the door. “I heard yelling.”

“Everything is fine.” Hux said, taking a deep breath, before straightening out his robes and fixing his hair.

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking between Hux and Kylo.

“He said, it's fine!” Kylo snapped, then stormed out of the backroom.

“Ben was just having second thoughts about today, that's all. He thought it might be too soon after his release from rehab.”

“But, he had that huge party last night, and he was ok with it yesterday.”

“I know, it doesn't make much sense to me either. In the mean time, I'd like you to clear his schedule for the rest of the day, including his date tonight. In fact, cancel all his dates this week, move the consultation about the book tour to tomorrow afternoon. Does he have anything important on his schedule for tomorrow?” Hux asked.

Jade pulled out her phone and began to check Kylo's schedule for the rest of the week.

“No, in fact, everything this week can be rescheduled or canceled.” She said.

“Then do it, but keep the the luncheons with his mother and add a family dinner night. Schedule the family dinner on a night when you'll be able to join us.”

“Of course! Is there any night that doesn't work for you?” she asked, waiting as Hux pulled out his phone and checked his own schedule.

“I will start having Mitaka forward my schedules to you. I have a feeling Ben is going to be taking up a lot more of my time.” he sighed, looking over his weekly schedule. “My evenings are free all this week. Let me know which night it is and forward it to Mitaka as well.” Hux pinched the bridge of his nose, now that Kylo was here, he knew his life was going to get a lot more complicated. With as stubborn as Kylo is, he knows he's going to be reluctant to accept this life and make things as difficult as possible.

“Hey, we could really use your guys' help out there.” Rey said.

“We'll be there in a minute.” Jade said, nodding to her friend, then turning back to Hux. “I'll talk to Mrs. Solo and see when a good night is, but I'm pretty sure she'll try to insist on every night.” she giggled. With the added stress of Kylo's appearance, Hux found himself even more thankful for her presence.

“Once the signing is done, why don't you take the rest of the day off, spend it with Luke and Rey.”

“What! No! Mr. Hux....”

“Ah, ah, ah, what did I say about calling me Mr. Hux, today.”

“Right, sorry. But...... Armitage.......” she hesitated, his name sounding odd coming from her lips. “I'm his assistant, I should be there to help him.”

“Nonsense. I think what Ben needs, is a good one-on-one with an old friend. I can always meet up with you later and fill you in, if you'd like.” Hux couldn't help but offer to meet up with her, he loved any alone time he got to spend with her.

“Are you sure?” She asked, clearly concerned oabout taking the rest of the day off.

“Absolutely. I know it's been a while since you and Rey have spent time together and we're already here. The both of you are all dressed up and I know how much you love the books.” He smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Yea.” Hux loved her sheepish smiles, especially when he knew she was pretending to not be embarrassed.

“Then it's settled, I will take Ben back to his apartment and you will spend the rest of the day here, what is it you say?”

“Amongst my own people.” she giggled.

“Yes, then I will meet with you later, fill you in on Ben's situation.”

“I don't know. I still feel like I'm pawning him off on you.”

“Nonsense.” Then, remembering the way they were both dressed, he got an idea. “Your Jedi Master, commands that you take the rest of the day off and spend it with your friends. I'm sure Master Luke won't mind having you under his tutelage for one day.” Hux had never felt more like a fool, than he did right then. But, if it made her smile, he'd play the fool everyday.

“Thank you, Armitage, you're the best!” she said, wrapping her arms around Hux's chest and giving him a hug.

“Yes, yes, young Padawan. Now, come, they require our help.” Kriff, He was such an idiot!

[irelise]

the yew tree 2.1/?

Erik has worked with Sebastian Shaw, mutant revolutionary, ever since Shaw rescued him from human experimentation when he was a boy. He is reluctantly enlisted to assist in Shaw’s newest scheme: seducing the wealthy and enigmatic Lord Xavier and claiming his vast fortune. With Shaw posing as Xavier’s doctor, Erik goes undercover as Xavier’s personal manservant to convince him to fall in love with Shaw.

But Xavier has secrets of his own, and it isn’t long before Erik starts having second thoughts about the whole thing…

(the handmaiden inspired au - no canon knowledge required

part one now on ao3!)

Warnings for this part: Child abuse, corporal punishment, sexual exploitation of children Rating: M Word count: 2159

The mansion in Westchester is huge. Father had told him that he had lived there when he was a baby, but Charles had been too young to remember any of it. Now, peering out of the automobile as they roll up the driveway, craning his head back and back and back to see the full height of the mansion, Charles doesn’t know how he could have forgotten it.

His rooms are huge too, nothing like the dormitory he had shared with five other boys back in the boarding school in Britain. Everyone is so nice to him when they help him get settled in. Charles knows they feel sorry for him. Poor thing, they repeat, over and over again. Losing his father so young, and now his mother too! He’s only six, isn’t he? A shame, a shame… Poor thing, he’s holding up so well, what a dear!

Charles feels awful. He knows he should be crying because Mother had just died and now both of his parents are gone, but no matter how hard he tries, the tears just won’t come. He doesn’t so much as sniffle. The staff think it’s because he’s a brave lad.

The truth is, he just hadn’t known Mother at all. He misses his friends and instructors at boarding school more than he misses her, and isn’t that just an absolutely wretched way to feel? He’s an awful son.

The wretched feeling stays for the next few days. Everyone is nice to him, but nobody knows what to do with him. He doesn’t have a nanny or a governess or a tutor and he’s bored.

“Do you know when I’ll be meeting my uncle?”

The servant bringing him breakfast looks uncomfortable. “No, sir. But Mr. Marko is a busy man, I expect he’ll call for you when he’s ready.”

The call doesn’t come until another few days later, and by then Charles had absolutely had enough and had snuck out to explore the grounds. He’s messy and mud-splattered when the servants find him and march him to Uncle’s study, and Charles gulps. He’s in big trouble.

It’s the first time he’s met Uncle even though Uncle is his “legal guardian” now (whatever that means), and despite the nervous butterflies tumbling around in his stomach Charles can’t resist a curious peek at his uncle. He’s a tall, broad man with dark hair and a coarse beard to match, dressed very respectably. He seems angry, but also…satisfied? Charles fidgets before he remembers his manners and gives a proper apology.

Surprisingly, Uncle doesn’t give him a thrashing, verbal or otherwise. He only looks stern. “We’ll have to find some way to keep you occupied so you don’t get into more trouble,”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Call me ‘sir’.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

It’s just not right for that Marko to take control of the estate – he’s not even a proper noble, is he?

And what is he thinking, dragging poor Young Master Charles all the way back from England? No, it’s not right at all.

Shh, back to work, don’t let him hear you. Haven’t you heard what he did to that kitchen boy?

***

Two days later, Charles decides Uncle is a big liar. He promised to give something for Charles to do, but there’s nothing, just Charles idly lying on top of the rug and counting – for the fifth time – how many threads are woven into the faded golden tassels. He gets all the way up to three hundred and a bit this time and he’s proud of his focus.

Grumpily, he pulls himself up to his feet. His nails are chipped from picking at the walls and floorboards, and his eyes feel dry and itchy. He couldn’t stop himself from crying earlier, hating how it feels like he’s been put into time-out forever for no reason. He misses school. He misses having things to do.

Charles scrubs at his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s nobody here to stop him, so there.

And if there’s nobody to stop him…

There’s a huge tree right on the edge of the estate, with the widest, thickest trunk Charles had ever seen. He sneaks there now, entertaining himself by trying to scramble up the rough bark and the thick and gnarling branches. If he climbs up high enough, could he see all the way back to Britain?

It’s almost sunset by the time anyone comes. Charles gives his best smile to the harried maid that had come to collect him, and some of the annoyance radiating off her fades.

“Oh, look at you,” she fusses at the dirt and bark gathered under his nails and the soil smudged all over him. “Come along, Mr. Marko wants to see you right away.”

“Is he mad?”

The maid looks at him as if to say When is he not mad? “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Young Master. Come on, now! Oh, it’s a shame I don’t have time to get you cleaned up some…”

Uncle is waiting for him in his room. After the maid leaves, Uncle has him strip off his shoes and socks, his pants and underwear. Charles bites his lip as Uncle bends him over the bed, a slender switch in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He’s always been a good boy, not the sort to get the switch despite the occasional bit of schoolyard mischief.

The switch comes down with a loud crack.

For a moment, there’s nothing – then Charles wails as heat and pain flare to life against his bare buttocks. Uncle doesn’t say a word, just brings the switch down again and again, until Charles is cringing and sobbing and scrambling onto the bed, trying to escape.

It hurts. It burns.

Uncle follows him. This time the switch lands across his bare feet, and when Charles kicks, Uncle only pins him down.

It goes on and on until Charles can only lie there and cry. His face is hot with pain and humiliation. When Uncle finally lets him go, he curls up into a tight ball, head swimming. He wants to go home. He wants to be in class again, wants to be with the other boys even though they’re all older than he is since Mother had him shipped off to boarding school early. He wants to go home.

“Stop that,” Uncle says severely, and Charles flinches. Shaking, he rubs at his face, telling himself to be brave. He sits up, but it hurts so much that he just crumples down to lie on his side again, his eyes still hot and sticky.

“Better,” Uncle says. He sets the switch on the bedside table where Charles can see. “I’m making arrangements for you to have a private tutor. My late sister – your mother – had said you’re a bright boy, so I only want the best for you. In the meantime your aunt has kindly volunteered to help you keep up with your reading. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” Charles whispers, making sure his enunciation is perfect despite the way his voice wobbles.

Uncle nods. “We’ll begin tomorrow.”

***

He hurts all over the next morning. There are raised red marks on his foot, and he’s sure his buttocks look just as bad. The maid clucks as she helps him dress. “No more sneaking off from now on, Young Master, or you’ll get it even worse next time.”

“Okay.”

Every step hurts as the maid brings him to the other side of the mansion. They don’t go to Uncle’s study or Aunt’s rooms; instead, the maid takes him to a performance hall of some sort. There is a circular stage in the middle of the room that is slightly raised off the floor, and surrounding it is a ring of benches. The place is small and intimate.

Uncle is on one of the benches, and Aunt is waiting for him on the dais. It’s the first time Charles had ever seen her. She’s a small woman, pale and fashionable, seated gracefully on a cushion on the floor. In front of her is a reading lectern placed low, close to the ground.

“Go sit by your aunt, Charles.”

Charles obeys. It’s a relief to get off his feet. His aunt doesn’t give him so much as a glance as he settles down next to her, and he shrinks away slightly, thinking of Mother.

“Eyes on the book.”

There’s a book on the lectern. It’s a picture book, the sort they use to teach kids their basic words. It’s opened to show a picture of a man and a woman, with the corresponding words written next to the picture in beautiful calligraphy.

“Excuse me, sir,” Charles says politely, “but I know these words already.”

“Read them.”

“Man. Woman.” His aunt turns to the next page, and Charles frowns when he sees the words are incredibly simple again, the sort he learnt years ago. “Hair, eye, ear, nose, mouth.”

“No,” Uncle’s voice cracks down like the switch. “Slower, boy. Listen to how your aunt does it.”

Aunt flicks back to the first page, never once glancing at Charles. “Man. Woman.” It’s the first time Charles had ever heard her speak. Her accent is much more like Charles’ British accent than Uncle’s American one, and even though she’s only saying two simple words, she reads them like they’re art, her enunciation perfect, a precise and deliberate pause in between the words. Even the expression on her face changes, growing warmer and more alive.

Charles likes it. It feels like a performance. He sits straighter (wincing a little), watching her as she recites the next words, so different from his rushed and bored reading: “Hair. Eye. Ear. Nose. Mouth.” Her voice dips up and down, melodious.

“Try again,” Uncle tells him. Charles copies his aunt as well as he can, and even though he knows he sounds boyish and unpractised next to her, it’s enough for Uncle to nod. Charles beams.

They move on. Charles ends up learning a few new words, nape, shoulderblades, pelvis…

And then –

“P-penis,” he stutters, face bright red. He knows it’s not the sort of word you’re supposed to say out loud even though it had always seemed a bit silly to him. “Va…ah, um.”

“Vagina,” Aunt says.

“Vagina,” Charles squeaks, still red. Aunt turns to the next page, but the illustrations remain the same, beautifully detailed brushstrokes in coloured ink showing Charles more than he had ever seen before. His cheeks feel like they’re burning, the heat spreading all the way up his ears and through the rest of his body.

“They’re, um, the same pictures? As before?”

Uncle interrupts. “We can have different words for the same things, don’t we? Have you heard of the word ‘synonym’ before?” He nods to Aunt. “Continue.”

“Member. Cock.” Aunt’s red lips purse around the word, a perfect round shape. “Prick.” One elegantly manicured fingernail traces along the illustration. “Glans. Shaft. Scrotum.”

Uncle looks at him expectantly. Charles tries to swallow down the squirmy feeling that makes him want to fidget and look away from the book. He’s always been a good boy – sweet boy, people had said, eager to please, so he begins: “Member…”

***

How can I do this? He’s only a boy.

How can I do anything else? If I leave him, if he casts me out, I have nowhere to go…

It’s only words. It’s not so bad.

Better than being on the street.

He’s only six.

***

Things improve. He reads a lot, always with his aunt and uncle, and he’s learning plenty of new words even though the squirmy feeling never goes away completely. He knows vaguely that there is something not-right, but how does he even talk about what’s happening? Who would he even tell?

Only words, he thinks to himself, staring at the golden tassels of the rug. It’s not so bad. Stop being a baby.

Uncle gets him the tutor he had promised and Charles throws himself into his studies happily. For the first time since coming to the mansion, he wakes up each day with something to look forward to.

“How have you been settling in, Charles?” Uncle asks him one day.

Charles looks at his hands. There’s a bit of ink smudged there, from where he’s been practicing his letters earlier. There are books scattered all around the room, with more arriving by the week since he’s going through them so fast and Uncle had generously agreed to buy whatever books he needed. Outside, it’s bright and sunny, and his tutor had promised they could study outside later.

Everything’s good. It’s nice and wonderful and all those other synonyms for good.

“Are you happy here, Charles?” Uncle prompts him. The switch is still on his bedside table. In another wing of the mansion, his aunt waits.

“Yes, sir, thank you for asking.”

***

help me help me help us help me

(next part)

[thedistantstorm]

Phoenix Protocol 27

Zavala x Awoken Female Warlock | Mid/Post Forsaken | Slowburn | Gratuitous Descriptions of Light | Self-Confidence/Self-Worth Issues | Redemption

When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

Previously

-/

“I told you we couldn’t handle this!” Lilith says, not sparing a hand to pull Miyu up from the ground. Their two Ghosts shimmer out of sight quickly as more bullets rain down on them from countless Scorn around them.

Miyu shakes off the resurrection, flexes her fingers - they feel tight - and draws her hand canon. “Relax. Your Stormtrance cuts their numbers in half. We can do this.”

“We can’t if you’re dying all the time,” The Exo squeals furiously in reply, sending a current of Arc through a Raider who twitches as he dies on the marble stonework.

“I’m working on it,” Miyu calls back, willing herself not to anger. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten so bold, she thinks, but shakes her head and carries on before Tamashii can comment that she should trust herself. She can feel the fluttery feeling in her gut that is indicative of his surprise. Under her breath, to her partner as she cocks her weapon and fires, she breathes, “We can do this. I know we can.”

His reply is a reassuring pressure in her chest, a comforting hum in her mind. I’ve got your back, it says, without any words.

She ducks out of the relative safety of the shielded area and goes to work.

Relatively speaking, the enemies themselves are not difficult to beat, even the shielded ones. It just takes a moment to thin the herd. Miyu doesn't mind it, her stances shifting from simpler to more complex forms designed for multiple enemies.

Her blade begins glowing yellow white.

Tamashii all but vibrates from that strange, phantom place inside her head when he realizes it. Miyu refuses to pay it any mind, lodging that glowing blade into a Chieftain after her second strike disables his shields. This is nothing, she thinks. This chamber is full of Light. She can do more.

He's about to remind her that anything that does not injure her is truly a development, but then there is screaming.

It's behind her.

The thing about this city, beyond her heritage, beyond the words of people like the Queen's Wrath and the Corsairs, is that there is something here that has only been spoken about in whispers. They speak of the Taken. Of the Queen's brother and the Techeuns who have been taken and saved (and taken and saved).

Kamala Rior was smart enough, when Miyu did not make that metaphysical connection like Reefborn did to their homeland, to mention something different.

'There are forces at play, Cousin,' She'd said. 'Forces that Queen Mara engages on a different level than the one you or I fight on. The Taken are being directed by someone else now. Someone with more cunning than their late king.'

Miyu is not foolish enough to think that she alone could stop Savathûn. But she does know that her run-ins with the Hive may allow her to glean information pertinent to stopping the Witch Queen that others may not. At worst, she is simply another adversary willing fight Savathûn’s forces.

The bellowing yowl of a Knight is out of place in this encounter full of Scorn. She whirls around in time to see Lilith grabbed by the skull, hanging limply from it's monstrous, skeletal grip. His crust-covered blade is raised, ready to sever her at the neck. Small, gauntlet covered hands scrape and scramble against the one squeezing her in its grip.

Miyu catches the edge of black on the Knight’s blade. She does not need to think. She reacts.

Her blade catches it perpendicularly, the Light-devouring blade squealing against her own. It no longer glows. Nothing and no one will take my Light, she thinks ruthlessly, shifting her feet to face the smaller Warlock and bringing her blade up in a blinding arc of solar energy.

It severs the Knight’s arm - the one holding Lilith - and gives Miyu the split second she needs to wrap an arm around the smaller woman before darting away with a leap and glide. His next swing catches nothing but air and he keens, a harrowing noise rending the air.

Miyu drops the girl on crystalline floor as gently as she can allow, her healing rift unfurling beneath her without a second thought. “Alright?”

“I-” The Exo attempts to lift her head, but her cracked helm drops back against the floor with a thud. “That wasn’t my best work.”

The older of them reaches down and pulls her up to a shaking sit. “If they have a black blade, they’ll snuff your Light out when they hit you. Same for your Ghost.”

“A Weapon of Sorrow?”

“Smart girl,” Miyu replies, as the sounds of disgusting clacking Scorn yield to the howl of the Knight once more. “That Knight still has his blade. Don’t engage with him. I’ve got it. If another spawns, call it out. Hopefully it was just a fluke.”

“I’m not a girl,” Lilith bites back defensively. “And we’re never going to charge this thing with  enough Light to finish it on time.”

“That’s not our concern right now. We can always try again. We have to stop that Knight from leaving the chamber.” She hasn’t seen a Knight like that ambling around the Dreaming City yet. They can’t let it escape the Well. It’s too dangerous. If it can kill a Ghost or Guardian in a single swing, Miyu would hate to see what it could do to the Lightless Corsairs.

“But the loot,” The smaller of them whines.

Miyu lifts her with a singular fist balled in her battle-soiled robes and sets her on her feet. “This is not the time,” She snaps.

“Oh,” Lilith responds, suitably chastised. “Uh, right, sorry.”

The Awoken Warlock ducks through the ranks of Stalkers, her blade dancing behind her in sparks and fury. She throws a fireball of a grenade down behind her, to keep them from following after her to get to the Knight.

When the undead Fallen turn back, they’re met with glowing green eyes and a lightning storm.

Once she’s alone with the Knight tracking her every move, the arm he’d lost regrown thanks to his eerie ritual magic in the time it took her to refocus Lilith on the task at hand, Miyu allows herself a deep breath.

At her back, she can hear the static-laiden battle cry of her ally as she toasts the masses of Scorn. They aren’t the real threat here. This Knight is. She cannot allow a new Guardian - much less anyone who does not understand the true dangers the Hive pose - to enter into a battle with them and their Guardian-killer weapons so lightly.

Her knees bend and her grip on her sword tightens as she holds it out horizontally to parry the oncoming attack by the monstrous worm-host.

Their blades spark and burn, and the oily sensation of Darkness creeps down Miyu’s back when he scores her with his claws as she tries to dodge. When she rolls to a stop, pushing herself back up, she realizes that the Hive fighter is drawn to the Light her ally is producing.

It’s bright, Lilith’s light. It charges the air with a humid crackle. Her body is still glowing blue with it as she comes down from the heights of her Stormtrance. With a screeching cry, Miyu lowers her weapon to her side and lunges for him again, preparing a more powerful strike.

The Knight catches her blade mid-swing and sends it careening away, as if she is a pesky fly buzzing around him. His fist collides with her gut and knocks the wind out of her. She drops like a ton of bricks as the Knight pulls his sword from the ground where he’d dropped it to intercept her - apparently she wasn’t worthy of his blade, she thinks with hot embarrassment -  and continues lumbering toward Lilith.

There is no time to find or retrieve her sword from wherever it’s been thrown. Miyu takes another deep breath, closes her eyes. She has to do something. Lilith might think otherwise, but she cannot fight off this enemy on her own. Especially not after the throngs of Scorn they’ve been dispatching. Not when one blow has the potential to snuff her light out entirely.

She has to be brighter, Miyu coaches herself, returning to her feet. She is his opponent.

First, she has to get between them. She breaks into a run, dodging an errant Chieftain and several Raiders newly spawned. She cuts to her right and whirls around, putting her back to Lilith’s startled cry and nervous optics.

Second, she has to get something to parry the blow. Her sword is long gone. A gun won’t beat this enemy and his blade. Even if she unloaded her full clip into his head, it would just barely crack the armored pating that shields his insides.

There is no time. She has to have something, and now. The Knight has raised his blade over his head, ready to bring it down. Lilith has stepped back, but now she’s infuriated the Knight. He’ll kill her if she does not react. And if he kills her, there’s no way Lilith would beat him with this many foes around, whether the Well is charged or not.

The fire of her Light answers her when she calls it to her hands. It’s heavy. Too heavy.  There’s no way she can raise this sword against the Knight.

But…

Maybe she doesn’t have to. This sword, its weight… it’s familiar. She’s seen this sword before. A candle that becomes a bonfire, she thinks, feverishly fast. She does not need to hit him with this sword to protect Lilith.

She reverses her grip with lightning fast reflexes and plunges the greatsword into the ground at her feet. Golden light unfurls around her unlike any rift she’s ever cast before.

It’s so warm, Miyu thinks, vision fogging between blinks with tears.

The Knight recoils, dazed and salivating at the outburst of sunny, solar Light. His secondary hesitation is precisely the thing Tamashii needs to transmat her sword, Abide the Return, into her hands. The Light wells inside her, warm and true. Flames lick from the hilt in her hands to the tip of its blade.

When she strikes, she cleaves the Knight - sword and all - in two.

-/

“What was that back there?”

Miyu cocks her head, blinking her bright eyes curiously. “What was what?”

“This is not the time!” Tamashii mock-snarls, albeit lightly, in a rendition of her previous agitation. “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you sound so… well, done. Your battle was well won, but it’s been a long time since you’ve been so take charge.”

“I didn’t-” The Warlock’s pale face flushes. “Did I sound like that?” Miyu groans, “She probably hates me now.”

Tamashii taps her cheek with a rounded fin. “Nah. I think that’s just what she needed. You can assert yourself, you know, Yu-mi. I’m proud of you for it. That was really well done.” He rolls end over end and turns back to face her. “Besides, she said she wants you to show her some of your sword moves next time. Let's get back to camp, I’ll heal your hands and-”

“Tamashii,” Miyu interrupts gently.

“Then you can eat and rest... What?”

She peels off her burnt gauntlets, tucking them into her sash. Her alabaster fingers flex. They do not shake. They are not burned. “My hands are fine.”

[corvidobligation]

multiples of three for brook, prime numbers for arnjolf

Questions About Creating Your OCs

I deserve the Maths.

Brook

3. How did you choose their name?

I’m pretty sure I picked it just because I thought it was a nice name? Tends to be my thought process for most OCs, to be completely honest - “name pretty”. For other AUs she sometimes gets different names - in Spireverse and Skyrim she’s Brynja Runasdor, to fit in better with the vaguely nordic theme to her home cultures. In that one mass effect AU where she’s a Turian she’s Bruccia Aurius, in SWTOR she’s Breena Amej, and in Dark Souls, she’s Brihtiue. In all of these cases I picked names because they sounded nice to me, and fit in better with the world she inhabits than Brook Amell did.

6. Is there any significance behind their eye color?

Not hugely? I do enjoy playing off of the blue color and the cold looks she gives people in narratives, though. Icy eyes and an icy stare, y'know? :}

9. Are they based off of you, in some way?

Oooh boy. Not entirely? But there are elements of myself I couldn’t help weaving into her. She has a lot in common with me in regards to reaction to trauma which I did largely to find catharsis; boiling rage, missing memories, blaming herself and having trouble letting herself get close to people in fear of getting hurt again - all of that is me. And writing Brook being not okay usually helps me working through me being not okay.

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Not really? I’ve had trouble drawing Brook in a way I’m satisfied with, but that’s just a skill/vision gap. She comes to me as a character very naturally. I love her.

15. What is something about your OC can make you laugh?

She is just terrible about crushes, watching her try and work through liking someone and telling them is like watching someone drown on dry land and it’s fucking hilarious. When she first met Jack, she told him to fuck off because she got mad his smile gave her butterflies and making her feel nice is not allowed, nope. In the early days at the Circle, flirting with Cullen was half as a fun side activity to the existential terror, but half because she knew he’d book it if she just flirted with him as aggressively as possible. She has never been graceful at all about her romantic attraction. And then there’s every single fucking thing she and @elswiththetubularbells2‘s Arran get up to.

18. What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

The most recent major thing was the bondage incident, or in other words, Brook is the toppiest chaotic top until someone brings out the rope, and then she’s a total switch. For more minor things, she very much likes being called pet names, but only if you’re close to her.

Arnjolf

2. Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

I knew I wanted a foil for Miraak, which is where the nord Hermaeus Mora follower came from as a concept. I also felt like I needed an OC with a tentacle kink already, but I can’t tell if Arnjolf is that OC, or whether Qodek fills that niche. But then again, Qodek is the one with the tentacles so you know what never mind

3. How did you choose their name?

Arnjolf is just a name plucked from a generator - Oath-Shifter came with more nuance, that being that Arnjolf is suspiciously trickster-like. Oath-Shifter came from the fact that he’ll keep every oath he makes, but he’ll wilfully misinterpret the wording in order to get away with changing the spirit of the arrangement. He promised he’d contain the threat Miraak posed, and then he soul-trapped Miraak. It counts!

5. Is there any significance behind their hair color?

blond boys hott 

7. Is there any significance behind their height?

tol boys hott

11. Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

I’m still not sure what his sexuality is now, but I tend to lead with my OCs being pansexual unless proved otherwise, and Arnjolf hasn’t yet indicated whether he has a preference, so, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

13. How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

Not far! I still can’t decide how he handles the end of the Dragonborn DLC, lmao

17. Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

I started out with some ideas about Arnjolf with regards to his relationship to the Nordic pantheon which I’ve since stepped away from - at first, I had him completely reject the main pantheon, but now, I’m convinced he has a much more complicated relationship with the gods of the Nords. There’s respect there, but little reverence for the ‘good’ gods. After all, he did choose Herma-Mora over them. He is definitely more of an old-ways guy, but he is a good couple of centuries old, so, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ he’s forgiven.

TL:DR; Misrepresented Arnjolf’s religious feelings at the start, patched in the latest release of world’s worst hero

19. What is your favorite fact about your OC?

GOD. I don’t know? I love a lot of aspects of him. If I had to pick, it’s that he’s one of my first forays into the ‘bad person is still the hero’ trope. I don’t think I have another heroic PC like Arnjolf - all of my DA heroes are flawed but fundamentally good people. He’s just a bastard who happened to fight Alduin, happened to fight Miraak, and happened to fight against Harkon. (which is a whole other story)

[kmomof4]

Fic Rec List Post 1 of 3 tonight

Hi everyone! Ok, first of all I’d like to thank everyone for their patience while I’ve worked on this list. I figured since it’s been over 6mos since my last list, it was time to do it again. My original post was too long, so I’m having to break it up into 3 posts tonight. The whole thing is the definitive list of all my favorite fics. Hopefully the rest of the list will be up Monday. This will be the last time I post everything in one list. It’s just too much. From now on, I’ll only list new favorites. On a scale of 1-10, all of these are rated 11 or higher. A single asterisk next to a fic is a desert island fic that I couldn’t do without. A double asterisk is a #1 all time favorite fic that I reread regularly. All links, Tumblr handle (if I know it), ao3 and/or ff profile, links to fics on ao3 and/or ff, are included.  So settle in for some fabulous reading from this EXTREMELY long list. 

From @winterbaby89 on Tumblr, ao3, and ff 

*The Red Dress Affair is a smutty one shot where Emma is tired of waiting for Killian to make a move. Rated M on ao3 and ff.

*As Destiny Has It’s Eyes on You is a EF AU. Princess Emma Swan of Misthaven has been prophesied as the Savior since before her birth. Now with the help of a Lieutenant from her past she is going to take her destiny into her own hands, to defeat the Evil Queen. 16 ch, rated M. On ao3 and ff. 

From @hollyethecurious on Tumblr, HollyeLeigh on ao3 and ff

***A Knight for a Swan is a medieval/fantasy AU. The kingdom has been overthrown. Sir David's lands have been conquered, and his daughter has been captured. The new king offers her and her family's lands up as prize to the winner of the celebratory tournament. Many Lord and Knights throw in their lot to claim her, but only one sees her for the prize she truly is. Rated T (except for the last chapter), 10 chapters. ao3 and ff.

And I Don’t Want to Go Home right Now is a modern AU. Killian Jones had not left his apartment in two years, four months, and thirteen days. Not since he’d finally decided to shut himself away from the whole blasted world after a freak accident had left him without his hand, and for all practical purposes, his heart. Rated T one shot. ao3 and ff.

Operation Pirate Law is a canon divergent. All of Liam’s efforts to get his older brother together with the town Deputy have not had the desired effect. Maybe he needs to change tactics and find himself an accomplice? Fortunately, the Deputy’s son has the same idea, and together they put into action -- Operation Pirate Law. Rated K 2 shot. ao3 and ff.

Operation TouRING, sequel to Operation Pirate Law. Rated G one shot. ao3

Until We Meet Again is a canon divergent one shot. All wishes come with a price. Now that a wish has brought Liam and Nemo to the very time and place that Liam's older brothers washed up after the tempest sunk their ship, what will the price be, and who will have to pay it? Rated K on ao3 and ff

*A Harem of One is an AU 1 shot, with a possibility for more. Killian Jones, younger son of Prominent Turkish Businessman, Brennan Jones, meets Lady Emma during the height of the London season just a few weeks before he must head back to Constantinople to take over the family shipping business. Despondent over the fact that he had to leave the woman he loves behind, things get interesting when Brennan tries to give Killian a welcome home gift. Rated M. ao3 and ff.

And COMING SOON from @winterbaby89 and @hollyethecurious Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke. Captain Hook has succeeded in killing the Dark One and is sucked up in the curse. A season 1 canon divergent coming in October.

From @totheendoftheworldortime on Tumblr, totheendoftheworldortime79 on ao3 and ff

***We Own Tonight is a canon divergent in which Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian Jones are inserted into the Frozen storyline. With the added bonus of FrozenJewel! Rated E, 35 ch. ao3 and ff.

***The Unlocked Series is a rated E modern au polyamory series featuring Emma, Liam, and Killian. Includes Unlocked with 8ch ao3 and ff, Unbound with 14ch ao3 and ff, Unchained with 21ch ao3 and ff, and Unbroken with 11ch so far ao3 and ff. There will be a 5th book to complete the series. Link to the series on ao3.

Poem Without Words is a modern AU in which Emma is a struggling college student who poses in Professor Killian Jones art class. Rated E with 32ch. ao3 and ff. 

Forbidden is an AU in which Emma is an Amazon and Killian is a Spartan captured at the battle of Troy. Rated E with 11ch. ao3 and ff. 

*Within Temptation is a canon divergent season 2 one shot in which Killian confronts Emma after he arrives in Storybrooke. Rated E. ao3 and ff.

Burning Bridges is a canon divergent one shot in which Emma makes her choice between Neal and Killian. Rated E. ao3 and ff.

How Lucky We Are is an EF AU. What happens when a revenge obsessed pirate meets a princess at a ball? Rated E, WIP with 13ch so far. ao3 and ff. 

Mischief Reimagined is a Harry Potter/Swan-Jones trio crossover. Rated E WIP with 5ch so far. ao3 and ff.

Out of Sight ao3 and ff and its sequel I Can’t Change the World ao3 and ff are modern AUs in which Emma is a bounty hunter looking to take down thief Killian Jones. Both rated E one shots.

Alone With You is a modern AU in which Emma is a star investigative journalist and Killian is her boss’s brother. Rated E with 5ch. ao3 and ff.

This Isn’t Everything You Are is a canon divergent from season 2 fic with 13ch. ao3 and ff. Its sequel Fallen Empires ao3 and ff, has 18ch. Both rated E.

From @kymbersmith-90 on Tumblr, Kymbersmith90 on ao3

Patience is a canon divergent season 2 WIP with 4ch so far.

*Read All About It and its sequel *Rule the World are modern AUs in which crown princess Her Royal Highness, The Princess Emma of Cambridge meets and falls in love with Killian Jones, lead actor on her favorite television show. Both rated E. RAAI is complete with 143ch. DO NOT LET THE CHAPTER COUNT SCARE YOU!!!! The chapters are very short. These are both beautiful, fluffy sweetness!!! RtW is a WIP with 31ch so far.

Fairytales is a modern AU in which Emma Swan meets her favorite actor Killian Jones at a convention. Rated E WIP with 15ch so far.

From @seriouslyhooked on Tumblr, EmilyBea on ff

***Within Your Ocean Eyes is an AU story set in our world where Killian is a pirate in the early 1800s and Emma is a local girl, who though an orphan is beloved by the people of her small town of Storybrooke Maine. They fall madly in love despite staggeringly different ways of life, and become the stuff of legend. Rated M with 22 ch.

*Lifted by Love is a modern AU 8 part series that follows Emma, Mary Margaret, Ruby and Belle on a girls' vacation in the white mountains. Killian, David, Graham and Will also happen to be in the same complex. Thanks to some typical male stupidity, the groups cross paths and sparks fly as a result. One part per day of the trip and eventual epilogue. Rated M with 8ch.

*Some Call It Magic is a modern AU. When Killian moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he's willing to overlook it for one reason: the single Mum living next door. There's only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she's a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Rated M WIP with 13ch so far.

*Wedded Bliss and Asterisks is a modern AU in which Emma is an up and coming wedding dress designer who meets magazine editor Killian Jones on the train. Rated M with 22ch.

False Alarms is a modern AU with fake dating that turns out to be not so fake after all between cop!Emma and firefighter!Killian. Rated M with 11ch.

Accidentally on Purpose is a modern AU married in Vegas fic. Killian tracks his wife down to convince her that what is between them is real. Rated M with 15ch.

In Your Light is a modern AU. Killian Jones is a recently discharged British soldier trying to start over. His brother Liam has found happiness in a small town in Maine and while visiting, Killian meets Liam's fiancé's sister Emma Swan. Before he knows it, Killian finds himself completely and irrevocably in love. Now all that's left is to convince Emma to let him stand in her light and by her side forever more. Rated M with 19ch.

Like You Do is a modern CS college AU. AU in which Emma lives in a co-ed dorm at a college in Maine. She hates crowds and so tends to shower at 2 am. One night, she gets caught up in singing, drawing the attention of Killian Jones, and sparks fly. Rated M with 26ch.

*Souvenirs is a modern AU in which Killian finds Emma after spending one night with her. Rated M with 14ch.

*Hope Springs is a modern AU in which Emma meets Killian Jones after Ruby comes home from her vacation married to Liam. Rated M with 20ch.

From @whimsicallyenchantedrose on Tumblr, jdmusiclover on ao3

By Land or By Sea series which is a rated T canon divergent from 3x11 and includes A Wish Your Heart Makes with 33ch, Getting to I Do with 10ch, and Mysterious Fathoms Below with 30ch.

Taking Back Neverland is a retelling of 3a in which the gang are working on the movie Taking Back Neverland. Originally part of Jen’s Fluffy Fridays series, which is also highly recommended. Rated T with 10ch.

Under the Apple Tree is, I believe the only OutlawQueen fic on this list. I’ve never read OQ, but for Jen I made an exception and I’m so glad I did!! This is a season 6/7 canon divergent fic that is fabulous and marvelous and brings Robin and Regina back together again for their happy ending! Rated T with 10ch.

The Princess and the Pirate is a canon divergent EF fic where Killian is recruited by Snow and Charming to get their daughter to safety so she can prepare herself for the Final Battle against the Black Fairy. A rated T WIP with 11ch so far.

From @flslp87 on Tumblr, flslp87 on ao3 and ff

***The Beach House is a modern AU based on the movie The Lake House. Will Emma and Killian be able to overcome their separation by time to find their happy ending? Rated T with 19ch. ao3 and ff.

The Promise is a brand new WIP that is already giving The Beach House a run for its money as my favorite in Misty’s repertoire. Rated T WIP with 2ch so far. ao3 and ff.

Flickering Lights- CaptainSwan Style is a canon divergent/missing scene of CS’s first time and Emma’s magic goes a little haywire! Rated T with 3ch. ao3 and ff.

A Gift From a God is a rated G canon divergent one shot where Emma and Killian are married with a very special guest in attendance. ao3 and ff

A Family Addition for CS is a future fic covering from positive pregnancy test through birth. Rated G WIP with 8ch so far. ao3 and ff

From @bromfieldhall on Tumblr, bromfieldhall on ao3 and Katrina on ff

*Just Tonight and its sequel *Just Forever are modern AUs. JT is rated M with 5ch. A night of unexpected passion leads to something infinitely more precious between two friends who don't realise the hidden depths of affection each has for the other. Romance/Angst and a little bit of Christmas fluffiness...eventually. ao3 and ff. JF is a rated G 1 shot of CS’s first Christmas together as a family. ao3 and ff.

Glimpses of Love and Affection is a season 3 canon divergent. Rated T with 26ch. Rated M for ch20 only. ao3 and ff. It’s sequel No Quarter is a WIP with 6ch so far, but hasn’t been updated in over a year. ao3 and ff.

From @its-like-a-story-of-love on Tumblr, captainswanismyendgame on ao3 and its-like-a-story-of-love on ff.

I Can Make You is a canon divergent one shot from the mid-season finale of season 3. What if TLK brought back memories? Rated M. ao3 and ff.

4 Bodies, 3 Swords, 2 Hooks, and a Savior is a canon divergent season 6 fic where Killian gets shot with Dr. Jekyll’s serum. One shot rated E. ao3 and ff.

To Guard You and to Guide You is a rated E one shot in which Killian is commissioned to protect Emma as she enters adulthood. ao3 and ff

Extra Credit is a rated E one shot where Emma is getting distracted in substitute teacher Killian Jones’s calculus class.

From @qqueenofhades on Tumblr, qqueenofhades on ao3 and ff

***The Dark Horizon is a OUAT/Black Sails crossover. You do not have to be familiar with BS to enjoy the fic. Set in 1715 in the Caribbean. Rated M with 42ch. ao3 and ff. Its sequel, The Rose and Thorn is 25 years later when ghosts from Killian and Emma’s past come back to haunt them. WIP with 15ch so far. ao3 and ff.

Incarcerus is a vampire fic where Emma and Killian are vampires and solve a murder mystery together and help prevent a supernatural war. Rated M with 31ch. ao3 and ff.

When In Rome and its sequel Ghosts of Britannia are historical AU’s. WiR tells the story of slave gladiator Killian Mac Daithi and his forbidden love with Emma Aurelia. Rated M with 7ch. ao3 and ff. GoB picks up 10 yrs later when Marius Henricus Maximinus loses his parents in a fire and sets out to find his birth mother, Emma Aurelia. Rated M with 8ch. ao3 and ff. 

From @pocket-anon on Tumblr, PocketAnon on ao3

Scar Tissue is a modern AU in which Killian is starting to wonder if the scars on his heart are as permanent as his physical ones. Until he meets Navy surgeon in training Emma Swan. Rated M with 20 ch.

***A Fairytale Beginning is a CaptainSwan/Enchanted AU in which Killian tries to outwit the Evil Queen and finds himself in the Land Without Magic and in the company of one Emma Swan. Rated G with 9ch.

From @joneskillian on Tumblr, joneskillian on ao3 and KillianJones on ff

Love, Kindness, and Other Useless Things is a historical AU set in 1815. Lord Killian Jones has hired Emma as nanny to his daughter. Rated M WIP with 19ch so far. ao3 and ff.

Beautifully Dangerous is a modern AU that is too much fun! Emma and Killian are both trained assassins. Rated E with 4ch. ao3 and ff.

The Importance of Taking a Break is a modern AU in which Killian and Emma are the adult children of business competitors and go make out whenever they're forced to sit through meetings. Rated M one shot. ao3 and ff.

Love Is a Ghost You Can’t Control is a rated T WIP with 2ch out of 3ch posted. Emma has lived in her small apartment for as long as she can remember, when things start to get strange, she's convinced she's dealing with a ghost and calls professional medium Killian Jones to help her get rid of the ghostly presence. ao3 and ff.

From @welllpthisishappening on Tumblr, WelpThisIsHappening on ao3

You Play Ball Like a Girl is a modern AU where Emma is the newest sports columnist for The New York Record. Killian is her editor. Rated M with 47ch.

Out of the Frying Pan is a modern AU where Emma and Killian are both celebrity chefs doing a year long Food Network all-star competition. Rated M WIP with 36ch so far.

From BlackWidowNat on AO3 

 Never Forget (How Much I Love You) is a modern AU WIP with 14 chapters so far in which Killian Jones learns a big secret when he returns home to Storybrooke to help Liam adjust to civilian life. Rated T.

From @xhookswenchx on Tumblr, AO3, and ff

 Storytime is a modern AU. After getting out of prison, Emma Nolan returns home, and tries to piece her life back together. Dealing with a betrayal that led to the false charges and imprisonment, a divorce, and getting to know her toddler son again, she doesn't have time for the blue eyed charmer who helps run the StoryTime program at the local library. 10 chapters, rated T on ff and ao3

From @thegladelf on Tumblr and  ao3, TheGladElf on ff 

An Open Heart is an Open Wound is a CS AU WIP with 11 chapters so far. What if Emma met Killian before she met Neal? How would that change things? If it changed things at all. Cursed!Killian AU. Sort of. Rated T on ao3 and ff.

From Katie_Dub on ao3, @katie-dub on Tumblr The Masks We Wear is a modern AU WIP with 8 chapters so far in which Killian and Emma are madly in love with each other and work together at their day jobs and their night jobs as superheroes. Unfortunately they don’t know they work together at their night jobs... Rated M.

From @spartanguard on Tumblr, SpartanGuard on ao3 and ff

A Tall Tail is a canon divergent from when Ursula throws Killian into the sea in 4x15. Rated K with 29ch. ao3 and ff.

I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas is a fic based on the movie with Killian and David following sisters Emma and Mary Margaret to Maine for Christmas. Rated G with 5ch. ao3 and ff.

***A Rose In the Deeps of My Heart is an AU in which Killian is an immortal fae. Rated T with 5ch. ao3 and ff.

From @dassala on Tumblr and ao3

Kentledge Hall is a historical AU in which a penniless dock worker inherits a title and his family's destitute estate. In order to save the house and grounds, he puts an ad in the paper for a wealthy wife from the United States. The damaged Emma Swan is desperate for a new start anywhere but New York. Together, will they save Kentledge Hall? Rated M with 17ch.

A Lesson is a rated E one shot where Professor Emma Swan has to teach student Killian Jones a lesson after he acts up in her class.

Deep Cover is a modern AU in which Killian goes undercover to nab a drug dealer in a small town in Maine. Unfortunately, he starts to fall for his target’s girlfriend. Rated M with 11ch.

Reward is a EF AU in which Emma gets a lesson in pirate behavior and charm on her first night as a prostitute. Rated M WIP with 9ch so far. It hasn’t been updated in over a year, but as I love it sooooo much, here it is!

From PhiraLovesLoki on ao3 and ff, @phiralovesloki on T,

 Once Upon a Kinky Prompt Ch. 21 Emma and Killian are getting busy and Neal is nearby and watching. The rating for the fic overall is Explicit, this chapter is probably a hard Teen. 

Killian Jones, Concertmaster Extraordinaire is a modern AU in which Killian, as concertmaster of his youth orchestra is furious that flutist Emma Swan will be performing HIS solo. So he sets out to sabotage her. He didn’t count on falling for her. 5 chapters, rated T. ao3 and ff

Falling Slowly is a canon-divergent set after season 5. When Henry is kidnapped by the Evil Queen, Emma rushes to save him. Along the way, she receives the help of a ship's captain with a shared past, though she has no idea just how deep that shared past really goes. 15 ch, rated M. ao3 and ff.

The Fix-It Sisters is a modern AU in which sisters Emma and Mary Margaret team up with Killian Jones to fix up his house for their reality TV show. Rated T with 4 chapters. ao3 and ff

Rescue Me is a modern AU in which Emma and Killian meet through a save-me-from-my-horrible-date app appropriately called Hinder. A rated T one shot. ao3 and ff.

Capture the Flag is a canon divergent where Emma gets roped into an extremely competitive match of capture the flag during Granny’s annual 4th of July bash. Rated T one shot. ao3 and ff. 

Expect part 2 early next week. Tagging those authors listed here who are on Tumblr. @winterbaby89 @flslp87 @hollyethecurious @whimsicallyenchantedrose @totheendoftheworldortime @seriouslyhooked @qqueenofhades @pocket-anon @spartanguard @phiralovesloki @dassala @katie-dub @thegladelf @xhookswenchx @welllpthisishappening @joneskillian @its-like-a-story-of-love @bromfieldhall @kymbersmith-90

[peerless-soshi]

Red as apples

Title: Red as apples Fandom: Mogeko/The Gray Garden Chapters: 1/3 Setting: Pre-Canon, Reficul’s backstory Relationship: Reficul/Sin Characters: Reficul, Sin, Elux Genre: Romance Word count: 7213 Links: AO3 Summary:  When Elux gives Reficul a peculiar task, the head-angel doesn't expect that it is an introduction to one of the greatest falls of love.//Reficul/Sin, pre-TGG.

Stay away from the garden. Monsters do live there.

It was impossible to tell who was the first one to utter these words. Their evanescence made them similar to echo; deprived of sources, without a clear beginning or an end, the ephemeral sounds were ringing over angels' heads and didn't need a mouth nor a tongue to be repeated. No one was especially interested in the beginning of this story, either - the words existed by themselves, never disturbing anybody with their sound.

There was a monster in the castle.

Sometimes Reficul felt that considering her position, she shouldn't think about gossips spreading in Elux's palace in such an indulgent way. Others could say much about Elux, the god holding the whole world in their sacred power, but one thing had to be justly acknowledged. The light god was found of only the purest forms of magic and certainly sooner would openly admit their defeat than hide in their private gardens an insidious phantasm, waiting to thrust its claws into throats of suspecting nothing angels. It was why Reficul should probably recognize that her colleagues let themselves to be fooled by whispers of lies, and falsehood was what paved a short road to a sin. And yet each time the head-angel heard whispers secretly handed from mouths to ears, she invariably turned her head and pretended not to notice anything.

There were several reasons. First of all, Reficul believed herself to be a very practical person, thus treated that woven with words web of lies as a prop extremely helpful in her work. Each servant working for Elux knew their god was called the patron of the saint light not without reasons as fury of the petite god was blinding. One word was like a glow, their response to even the small grimace could be flashing irritation, and reaction to breaking a ban seemed to be like light burning everything in their sight and will. But all that was ultimately irrelevant. Regardless of whether it was about humans, angels or even about the gods themselves, knowledge always lost to uncertainty. The fear of a monster emerging in a story surpassed the awe for Elux in every possible way, because as long as the creature from the god's garden had no name or form, so long it was just the perfect shapeless mass of fear which the palace angels were feeding with meaning and changed into imaginary nightmares. Thanks to them Reficul didn't have to worry that someone could use a moment of her inattention and sneak into Elux's gardens. 

There was also another reason, perhaps a trivial one, but as Reficul discovered after a longer reflection, not less important. Ever since she could remember, the monster of the Eden Garden lived in the midst of their conversations, devouring naughty children and not showing the tip of its nose outside of the legends. Maybe the story was repeated so many times that it has finally became true, and so everyone has heard about the monster and accepted its existence, making creature the inhabitant of their heaven. Reficul also got used to gossips and no longer paid attention to them. 

The edenic monster was almost like a part of her.

*

One day Elux called her.

Reficul served as the head-angel, so living to the rhythm of divine orders was normal for her. Elux's sudden calls were the integral element of her work, like breathing or six wings forming angelic body were parts of her life. She heard hundreds and thousands of similar orders yet today in words of the god Reficul could hear some special note which immediately caught her attention. It was as if in one moment Elux wanted to say too much so phones outdid each other in a mad race, trying to meet the pace imposed by the tone. The speech became slurred and slightly trembling. Or maybe it was just a thought because after a minute the voice of the god sounded as nonchalantly as usual.

"Reficul, I want to see you."

Reficul had heard the call in her head and before the last syllable disappeared, she was already kneeling before the god.

"You called."

Elux didn't even turn toward her.

"Good that you are here," they said without a hint of interest.

Today Elux greeted her in the male form. Reficul wouldn't say that she was particularly surprised. The predilection of her god for transforming from one form to another, sometimes even several times during one day, was widely known. But as befits the reliable right hand, almost involuntarily Reficul noted that Elux more often decided on the female form. Perhaps the other body was convenient, more practical, perhaps its fragility of a bird could liken Elux to a brief flare which, after all, they were. Perhaps the reason didn't exist. Still, Reficul saw Elux in the female form much more often than in the male form so every time she had an opportunity to observe the divine transformation, she thought 'This is it' or 'It's now'. At the same time, she always felt that change was coming from the outside - that something has changed high above Elux's head and then they had to note the variation of new circumstances and adapt to them, probably feeling calm after complemented metamorphosis.

Reficul didn't believe in any deep reason. Probably this morning Elux had woken up to look out the window and decide that it was a good day to take a male form, but a thin thread of doubt entwined her mind.

"How can I help you, Your Highness?"

She was kneeling in a humble pose on the crimson carpet that smelled like fresh citrus plucked in the full sun, obediently waiting for a response. This, however, wasn't coming. Reficul waited a moment, then counted seconds of another minute. Finally, hesitating, she raised her head.

Elux wasn't looking at her. They turned away from Reficul, stubbornly staring at the landscape painted behind the huge, gilded window. In Heaven it was raining, but downpour seemed to be quite different than usual. Reficul knew only lightnings tearing up the sky as easily as it was a long threadbare cloth. That day raindrops were falling very harmonious and at regular intervals. She could almost count seconds flowing to the rhythm of the rain knocking on the glass. The water was then running down the window, lazily and in parallel rivulets, creating meanders and distorting the face of Elux reflected in the glass. Looking at it, Reficul suddenly thought that her god was always so alive, so full of themselves. Facing the rain, they seemed to be as vague as their reflection, marked by countless similar drops.

"How can I help you, Your Highness?" Reficul asked again. Her voice slightly trembled. She couldn't judge whether Elux heard it or not.

This time her words gave awaited result. Elux shivered, Reficul noticed it because of barely perceptible twitch of Elux's arms. Then they looked at her. The angel lowered her head even more than it was necessary, eyeing up at close range the red carpet which smelled yellow.

"Reficul. My dear angel, my greatest creation," Elux began, and the warm meaning of their words sounded exceptionally cold, "my head-angel... Say, do you love me?"

"I beg your pardon?" Reficul uttered.

Now she couldn't even see the carpet because her eyes shut. What a weird question. Weird behavior. She didn't like it.

"You heard right," Elux said with a hint of amusement, "I want to know if you love me. Or maybe you need time to think about it? "

"No. I didn't answer, Your Highness, because I was surprised by obviousness of your questions. Nobody has ever asked me before if the sun rises after the night, or if fire can burn a hand that reaches toward it. After all, everyone knows the answers to these questions. And you, Great Elux, are certainly aware that nothing can compare to my love for you."

She couldn't dare to check it but would swear that Elux smiled. She felt it clearly, as if the air around her vibrated together with the raising corners of their mouth.

"I have created an orator, my Reficul."

"I would not call that oratory. It sounds too much like a lie."

"Do not reject it. A sword is the weapon of body, words are the weapon of soul."

Reficul heard as Elux moved away from the window and crossed the room. Each step was surprisingly balanced. It seemed to her that Elux thought twice before they put their foot down in a particular place. Maybe that was where the lime smelled more intensely, Reficul thought. Finally, the god stopped right beside her and Reficul opened her eyes - slowly and uncertainly, just like when you wake up in the full light of the dawn. Elux beckoned as a sign for her to stand up and Reficul obediently straighten up. Her gaze was now at the same height as the blue eyes of the god who even in the male form wasn't much taller than her.

For a moment they studied her without a word. Finally sighed.

"Tell me, Reficul, did you hear about a monster from the garden?" Elux asked simply.

"What?" In response Reficul blinked several times.

And Elux didn't even wince, just repeated slowly and clearly:

"Did you hear something about the monster that supposedly lives in my garden? But I want to hear the honest answer," they warned her, "What do the angels say?"

Reficul hesitated. All rumors whispered in evenings by angels hidden under their quilts filled with feather - those frightening and untrue pillow stories - were not a conversation subject which Reficul could expect. What's more, initiated by oh-so-calm Elux. The god must thought about it a lot before and calling for Reficul was nothing more than a formality.

Once again Elux wasn't rushing her. Without a word, they just stood quietly with hands clasped at the back and waited. The god reminded her of a sentry dog.

"Indeed...." Reficul began, checking on the tongue the weight of each spoken word, "Sometimes it is rumored that something... unintelligible is lurking in the garden. But I cannot point any person who would be responsible for this..."

"I'm not looking for guilty ones," Elux interrupted immediately, "I just want to know what they say. Not who, just how. Can you tell me?"

"That this is a monster, even though nobody has ever seen it. It has red eyes which sometimes flash from behind the hedge, every day it watches us carefully. We do not know how it looks like but apparently it has green scales, like an ancient dragon, and drinks only angels' blood."

"No one has seen it yet it is said that it drinks the blood of angels?" Elux said in a tone that should be probably seen as mocking but gave Reficul chills.

"I told you, Your Highness, that they are only gossips."

"It is a lot and a little as for a monster, right?"

"You are probably right, Your Highness."

"And you? Do you believe in the paradise creature, miss head-angel?"

Reficul thought for a brief moment, during which Elux was embracing her with their eyes; from head, through the ends of hair and feathers of the six wings, to toe. Reficul elegantly ignored it.

"I never thought about it, Your Highness," she replied truthfully, "but when I think about it now, I suspect that I do not."

"You suspect, if I heard properly?"

"I tend to check everything first, then I make a decision. If I do not have a proof - I have no reason to believe in it."

"Or maybe you just think that I would inform my beloved angel?"

"I do not think of myself so highly, Your Highness."

She lied but Elux probably didn't care as they left the subject. Instead, the god smiled, showing Reficul several teeth.

"Remember that every rumor comes from truth," Elux said, "It is an old but immortal principle."

Immobility had to be tiring because Elux quickly turned on their heel and moved away from Reficul. They stopped, then walked toward the massive desk. For some time all papers were littering there and now piled in small turrets. Reficul had an opportunity to see the god from behind and noted that in a second their whole posture changed. Earlier Elux behaved as if something heavy lurked in their veins and brutally dragged them to the ground, like a stone hanging around their neck. Now the balloon has been pierced. Their steps, a moment ago slow and overly careful, became a springy dance similar to flying.

The god was changing, for Reficul it was a well known fact. Their swinging moods were as unstable as their beauty. But Reficul also knew that even Elux's thoughts couldn't change so quickly, which meant that Reficul had said something so important that it had moved the conversation to a completely different track. She tried to quickly analyze their brief exchange of words but couldn't find anything significant.

Elux leaned on the desk and turned toward Reficul. Their eyes were piercing through her like an arrow.

"I have a job for you, Reficul."

"Everything you desire," she replied without hesitations.

"I want you to guard my Garden of Good and Evil."

Reficul frowned and returned Elux's gaze.

"I should watch the Garden? Did something happened, Your Majesty? Someone broke into your nook to made a test of courage or something similar? If so, I will punish them..."

"Mistake!" Elux interrupted her and instead of shaking their head, they made a little gesture with their hand, "You do not have to watch those who are coming, though it can turn out to be useful in the future. So far, make sure that the monster living inside does not creep outside."

Reficul did not understand these words right away.

Next moment passed in silence, undisturbed even by a breath or sound of dripping. The surprised world froze together with her, the rain hid behind the clouds. It was a perfect moment of complete silence.

"A monster?"

"A monster," Elux nodded and gave her a happy smile, "The truest monster from the Garden."

When Elux's appearance was changing, the metamorphosis touched also their playful smile. Their eyes were always the same - attentive, amused, showing everything that Elux wasn't saying aloud. Only the smile remained different. The feminine one was shaped like a cup from which poured thick sarcasm, and front teeth bared in a sparkling crescent. The one that Reficul saw now seemed to be narrow, as invisible as a skillfully stitched thread. Elux smiling in feminine form was like a honey-scented poison - pretty but not hiding its sinister nature. The current Elux was soft and somewhat thoughtful, and the person seeing the god for the first time could even consider them to be nice. Reficul knew Elux perfectly, so really wanted to step back. She didn't, though she was not sure if it has been done out of respect or surprise.

"Did something happen, Reficul? Are you afraid?"

"Should I, Your Highness?" she answered with a question.

Elux snorted under their breath.

"No. She is no longer able to hurt you."

"She?" Reficul repeated, maybe more surprised than she should be, "This monster... it is a woman?"

"Oh!" Elux tapped in the smooth surface of the desk. "You really believed that your monster is a formless dragon, right?"

Shadow of a blush crept on Reficul's face. She coughed quickly.

"That's not what I meant."

"There is no need to be ashamed. I think that if she was at her full strength, she could easily kill you..."

Elux became silent, probably thinking about just spoken words. The god continued to tap in the desk with ostentation, as if it was a piano keyboard. One, two, stop! - the silence hanging between them was filled with this sound merging with raindrops. A few knocks and Refucul was ready to believe that the rain has already matched up to the god and started to play the same melody. Finally Elux sighed, "No, now I insulted myself. In the end, you are my head-angel, so she would have some problems. But she would kill you."

Elux let their words to resound, to jump in the air and reach Reficul, then nest in her mind like a larvae. Writhing and crawling, the words came to the deepest secret nooks and left eggs, and they hatched to leave questions. Reficul felt that uncertainty hitting the walls of her head and demanding answers, yet still tried to resist. Elux waited, what was surprising, and smiled. It meant that now it was Reficul who should ask an unspoken question. However, the moment she would open her mouth Elux would pull Reficul by her tongue, like a puppeteer pulling strings of their puppet, and lead her through this conversation according to the god's wish.

Suddenly her chest hurt in need to escape, to cut Elux's strings with her own sword. But when Reficul once again looked into the blue eyes of the one who had formed her with their power and whose magical energy was still pumping through her veins, she knew that she couldn't escape.

Because she belonged to them.

"What kind of a monster is it, Your Majesty?" Reficul asked and felt how one question took away the air from her lungs.

She expected Elux to somehow comment on the silence which Reficul had so consciously protracted. However, the god only nodded with a look of relief on their face, perhaps involuntarily, looking as if their neck was a spring. So even Elux sometimes hesitated, Reficul noted with satisfaction that made her nauseous.

Elux grunted and looked back at Reficul.

"Tell me, miss head-angel, did you hear about a being called the devil?"

"I... of course, who do you think I am, Your Highness? But what... "

Her thoughts were faster than words so Reficul was still speaking when voice stuck in her throat. She straightened up a little more and lifted her chin, and all of this was happening in slow motion. Thousands of thoughts were fliting through her head at the expense of all other impulses. She looked first at her god, then over their head, on fancy patterns painted on the glass by dense rain. Some of them have changed a bit, now the lines seemed to be more curved or matted. Several water paths have met halfway and small rivulets of rain that had crossed the window were now replaced by new drops. Although everything has changed, the rain looked the same as before.

"What is going on here?"

Elux stepped away from behind the desk and once again started to walk around the room. Reficul thought that the god was going to move closer to her, just as they did when she had arrived, but she was wrong. Instead, Elux began to circuit her, closing Reficul inside of a circle of their steps. The god lowered head, stubbornly staring at the carpet which still smelled like lime, though now probably less.

Reficul had to turn her head to the right and to the left, like a fairground carousel, to not lose the sight of Elux.

"You see, Reficul," they spoke, "The devils are reflections of us, gods. Of course, they are distorting mirrors as every copy must be damaged and imperfect. But it does not change the fact that these... dirty little creatures are second after us. After the gods. After the perfect beings. It is unforgivable, you cannot let someone so filthy hold in their hands too much power."

"She was planning a rebellion?"

"Maybe not now, certainly in the future. It is better to forestall the facts than to struggle with consequences of negligence."

"So you imprisoned the devil in the Garden of Eden where she could not protect herself," Reficul guessed.

This statement seemed to build an invisible wall before Elux as the god stopped, opened their mouth a little wider, then gave Reficul the look of exaggerated indignation.

"I would rather hear you saying that I isolated her from the world to keep us safe."

"Of course."

"Yes, first I made sure that our devil was deprived of her power, then left her in a beautiful garden, filled with colors of all known flowers and taste of all fruits. Am I not generous, Reficul?"

Reficul humbly looked down, showing respect. And avoiding Elux's expectant gaze.

"Marcy given to an enemy is a virtue, my god."

"Do not teach me about virtues, Reficul. It was me who have created them."

"It is obvious but... can I ask one more question?"

"Ask, my little one. In the end on your shoulders should soon fall the duty of watching the Satan, it is best to let you know about everything that may be useful."

Before Reficul decided to speak again, first she recalled the whole conversation. The angel always listen to Elux with attention and tried remember as much as it was possible, keeping every word somewhere in her memory, so analyzing it now was not a big problem. She also pushed aside her surprise - later she was going to have more time to think about it.

When she made sure that she didn't miss anything, she looked at her god with more confidence.

"If the devil has lost the powers, why do you need it... need her? Would not it be easier to kill her? She is just defiling the heavenly place."

Elux nodded, clearly pleased.

"Good questions."

Finally they stopped walking around the room, hunting her down like a beast. Elux snorted and then came closer to Reficul. If they have leaned just a little bit more, they could have touch her ear with their nose.

Reficul backed off when the god raised their hand. They showed her two fingers.

"You asked me two questions, Reficul. First!" Elux pointed one finger to the ceiling. "Why do we watch her? Well, the answer is very simple. The devil tends to be tricky and deceptive. She may not have her powers but she has her mind and tongue. Let's assume that someone comes to the garden. She would never miss an opportunity like this and immediately fill the veins of her victim with her unfortunate venom. She would try to manipulate the said person and use them for her own purposes. You cannot let it happen, remember."

The legends were known to Reficul since years, so the devil must have been living in Elux's garden for a long time, yet she hasn't freed herself from the prison. Why would she do it now? However, Reficul decided to not say it aloud.

"I understand. But then, why me, Your Highness?"

"Because you are my most faithful angel and you love me more than anyone else."

A rosy blush blossomed on snowdrops-white cheeks. Seeing this, Elux approached her a little more and blew a strand of hair falling on her forehead. Reficul's face enwrapped in their gentle breath.

"And question number two." Now Elux was showing her two fingers. Reficul blinked. "I cannot kill her. The devil may be an empty shell but still she must keep living. It is more like a concept than an actual being."

"A concept? What does it mean?"

"You do not understand..." Reficul was unable to judge whether these words were a question or a statement.

Elux continued, "It doesn't matter though, it is obvious that you are not able to understand it. After all, you are just an angel."

It took only one step and Elux was standing face to face with Reficul. When the god narrowed their eyes slightly and laughed, Reficul saw clearly how much satisfaction her answer gave them. Pride and contempt were painted in azure eyes shining behind the eyelashes. Although the height difference didn't changed, suddenly Reficul felt that Elux was looking at at her haughtily.

"She is a particular creation. A symbol, yes, that is the right word. The symbol of evil that contrasts with good. The bottom being the basis for the top. That is why the devil must exist. Otherwise it would be impossible to distinguish a sin from a virtue, there would be no comparison. Some things had been set up by those higher than me."

"And even now, when our world is already stabilized, the devil cannot disappear?"

"Maybe," Elux sighed, "but it would be dangerous. I do not want to risk."

"Of course. I understand."

It wasn't the whole truth. In fact, Reficul didn't understand anything. Why was the mysterious demon in the garden and what did Elux plan to do with it? What did it mean to take the devil's powers? But what worried her the most was uncertainty of what she was going to find in the Garden of Good and Evil.

Reficul never asked any of appearing one after the other questions as her eyes could soon tell her much more.

"How can I cross the gate of the garden?"

"You are already allowed to go there, the seal will react to your power."

"When can I start?"

Elux smiled for the last time.

"When you wish, my sweetest of all angels."

Reficul bowed down so deep that her silver hair touched the floor.

"Always at your orders."

*

Reficul went to the Garden of Eden late in the afternoon. She planned to do it immediately after leaving Elux's office but the rain successfully stopped her.

The description of the beast which Reficul had received from her god turned out to be extremely superficial and in fact didn't provide her almost any meaningful information about the potential enemy. She couldn't guess whether Elux was doing it on purpose or maybe after their long conversation the god wasn't in a mood to go into details. Though it was not really important. The only thing that mattered was that the devil without powers could probably still use sharp teeth and claws capable of chopping Reficul into pieces. It made the demon very dangerous in the rain, when she was on the ground that she has known for centuries and where Reficul would be merely an intruder. Preferring not to risk, Reficul first took care of paper work and organization of angels' tasks. 

In the afternoon the weather cleared up enough for Reficul to put her head out. It was still quite damp and the muddy ground was here and there adorned by puddles reflecting the amber sky and pinkish clouds. Somewhere in the distance appeared a blurry outline of a rainbow. Birds, previously hidden in their hollows, were now coming out of their hiding places and shyly soaring in the air. The Garden of Good and Evil, where wispy treetops were swaying to the rhythm of the wind, seemed to be nothing more than a shadow looming against the warm colors of the horizon. Reficul looked at the beautiful landscape while her feet were sliding on the wet grass and high heels sinking deeper and deeper into the mud. She stopped, with a grimace on her face looking down at her shoes. She would prefer to wear less white but Elux wouldn't like that idea.

Finally, she saw the gate of the garden. It was a beautiful, five-meter high fence made of gilded rods, each of them ending with a sharp blade carved in the shape of lightning. Elux made sure that the entrance was wide enough for six people, although Reficul doubted her god has ever come here in someone else's company. No, she was wrong - after all Elux had brought to the garden the devil... The central part of the gate turned out to be the seal that looked like Elux's emblem - an irregularly and twisted loop. Reficul took a deep breath and felt the rain aroma in her throat, then looked around. Deep inside she was wondering whether near the garden she could see something so sinister that it would give birth to all the rumors. However, the world seemed to be extremely quiet, almost mystically asleep.

When the head-angel was relishing the peace, something suddenly rustled over her head.

She flinched quickly and the blade of the Morning Star, the sword blessed by her god, pierced the air like an arrow.

"Who is there?!" 

There was no answer. Reficul eyed the crown of trees growing above. All were green and laughed at her.

"Just my imagination?" she muttered under her breath.

Reficul didn't believe in that when she put her hand on the the seal and opened the door of paradise.

*

The Garden of Good and Evil was a mysterious place. Now it seemed to be even more distant than before. When Reficul finally crossed the gate, she was immediately flooded by the strange feeling... of foreignness? She couldn't tell. It was more like the door to hell than the divine garden, Reficul thought with slight bitterness. Give up hope, you who come here. For a moment she was just standing, trying to memorize every detail, then moved ahead.

The song of birds which had been accompanying her during the walk was now gone, in its place appeared the lonely wail of the wind. And nothing else, only it was whistling sadly behind her ear, as if tired of playing on the trees branches. The golden light cast by the shadow of the sunset merged into one with peaceful, green colors, giving an impression of something a little magical and a little fanciful while being musty, disgusting. Reficul winced slightly, squinting. She liked simple gardens visible from the palace windows much more than this wonderful forest, enveloped in the misty light.

The smell of wet earth was also less perceptible here, all scents around seemed to be masked by thousands of apples growing around. Reficul couldn't even believe how intensively they smelled! The fruits reminded her of good old times when on summer she had plucked apples from the tree and immediately cut in half to feel their aroma. All leaves and stalks have soaked with sweetness and red. It made Reficul dizzy. Something was wrong here, she felt, something was different and the head-angel was able to sense it although she couldn't identify the source of uneasiness. As in a dream, everything was the same and completely different. Soft sounds of the wind, green-and-yellow colors and scent of rare fruits became one.

She shook her head and told herself to hold on. She was staying closed in the palace for too long and now her imagination began to trick her. But she was Reficul, the seraph and the right hand of the god, and Elux themselves had asked her to supervise the garden built with the same power that surrounded Reficul every day. Nothing should be foreign to her.

However, she pulled the Morning Star out of the sheath and now was scouring the sweet prison with the sword in her hands. Just to be sure.

During a slow walk in Reficul's head appeared various thoughts. Would it be possible for the devil to come and greet her? She may already know about the guest and watch her from afar, ready to attack. Or Reficul could surprise her first. There was also a possibility that the demon had no desire to talk to her and holed up in some quiet den - or where monsters lived - willing to wait until Reficul leaves.

Several minutes have passed and before Reficul noticed it, she reached a small meadow which was probably the central part of the garden. There were no flowers, only trodden grass forming a perfectly flat line. The trees surrounding it at each side were casting elongated shadows. Reficul looked up at now darkening sky and assessed that in the middle of the day the sun would probably hang just above the clearing, warming the ground.

She was about to leave when she looked at her feet and stopped. Something caught her attention. It was a detail, almost irrelevant and probably devoid of any significance, but as the head-angel she couldn't ignore.

The garden didn't look like an inhabited place. So far Reficul saw few places and grass was usually intact, growing wildly since long centuries. But here the grass was lying flat, kissing softly the ground. In Reficul's mind appeared a certain thought. Perhaps the monster tended to come here from time to time and rest in the morning or after midnight. But the grass was trodden in the way that alarmed Reficul, it didn't seem to be natural. As if something heavy were dragged here. Or...

"Does it crawl?"

She immediately imagined a green-scaly dragon and hissed in disgust. From all Elux's orders, this one was probably the worst. She would much rather come back to her hated paperwork and decrees...

"Would you like to taste an apple, my dear? It is very juicy. Especially in that weather."

Reficul's vigilance was on the highest level, yet at the sound of a soft voice from her throat escaped a strangled scream. She turned back, sinking deeper into the mud and holding the Morning Star high.

"Get out!"

The unidentified voice was so quiet and distant that Reficul would be able to believe that it was just her imagination. This uncertainty was compounded by the fact that the head-angel couldn't see anyone. It was as empty as before, and only trees were peeking at her. Demons sometimes applied various tricks but if the monster had lost her power, she had to be visible, right? Shame, Reficul scolded herself in thoughts. Her breathing calmed down a little. To be so easily deceived by legends about a monster... 

"Over here, miss angel. Above you."

Reficul froze, then quickly raised her head and looked up. First she blinked, seeing only familiar evening clouds. For a moment she was just standing there, motionless and silent. She closed her eyes, listening to the wind, to the world... It was so simple, she almost wanted to laugh. Slowness of the angel's moves contrasted with ferocity of her first reaction. Reficul calmly, maybe even a little stolidly, turned her head to the right and watched the treetops, then looked to the left. She noticed it. 

The woman didn't resemble the monster about whom Reficul has heard so much. When she looked at her for the first time, she had an impression that the demon was one with all the colors of the Garden of Eden. Her hair had to be much paler in the daylight but last rays of the sun added to them a golden glow and now in her curls shined bright reflections, resembling subtle clips. The eyes, big and shiny, were in a color as intense as an apple which she was holding in her well-cared hand, more suitable for a princess than a prisoner. Reficul was too far away to be sure but it seemed to her that the woman's pupils were vertical like those of a snake. Funny that it was what caught her attention in the first place. Reficul almost didn't notice the snake tail cloaked in lush branches, covered with green scales similar to leaves. The demon was not wearing any clothes, her only mantle was hair falling in waves on naked shoulders and sliding down on her chest. She had also no ornaments, except for a slightly withered water lilies stuck behind the ear.

The snake was silent, apparently first allowing Reficul to admire her. The angel thought, however, that further observation wasn't necessary. The demon wasn't aggressive, she had no claws and probably couldn't fly. Without magic she wasn't able to cast spells and Reficul didn't notice any weapons. More information than she needed.

When she came closer to look into the snake's eyes, in return the woman gave her a warm smile, completely incongruous in her current situation. Reficul quickly noted that the demon had two sharp teeth but otherwise all the teeth seemed to be flat. 

"So, miss angel?" she half asked, half announced, "Will you join me? Apples from the garden are delicious, you will like them."

She acted like a lady greeting a long-expected guest. Reficul winced, feeling growing disgust by this cynical display of pride.

"Do not treat me with the fruits that have been created by my master, the god of this world. Here everything belongs to them, not you."

The snake seemed to be genuinely surprised by her reaction. She glanced at Reficul, now openly showing the vertical pupils, and blinked twice. Her eyelashes fluttered lightly.

"I have not seen Elux for many, many years. I almost do not remember how she looks like... I am sure that by now this garden is more mine than hers. She does not know even one path here."

"You filthy sacrilegist... This is the sacred garden."

"And my house - by dint of Elux, I suppose," the demon added, rather fooling around than speaking seriously. Or maybe not? Reficul felt uncomfortably confused. If a word was not aligned with a situation, it could mean only a lie or eccentricity. Both were troublesome.

"Perhaps you are upset because Elux has never given you anything? Did she offer you an apple?" the woman asked again and not giving Reficul time to react, she gracefully threw the apple. Rather than trying to catch it, Reficul raised the Morning Star. Two perfect halves rolled on the ground.

The woman answered herself, "No, of course not. She would never do. After all, it's Elux."

Reficul was going to say something but instead chose silence. It suited her more. Usually she wouldn't engage in quarrels with people more stupid than her, that is, with anyone. In front of her was a mere demon, a prisoner whose world was limited to the walls of trees. What could she expect? Actions speak better than words.

She stood under the branch on which the devil was lying and pointed the blade of the Morning Star at her. The sword flashed in her hands, reflecting the light, and some truncated bark landed on Reficul's hair. It didn't bother her.

The devil didn't even blink.

"I would advise you to not insult Elux in my presence. I am the head-angel. And congratulations, demon, because from now on I am going to serve as your guard."

"It is an honor for me," the devil replied, "I hope that our relationship will be.... fruitful."

After these words the demon ran her hand through her hair and placed one of the strands behind her ear with grace that could be observed only in presence of people having long curls for centuries. She ignored Reficul and stared ahead, watching the sunset, or maybe other thing visible from a height, but the angel suspected that she was playing with her hair to uncover some skin.

Reficul, not used to either being ignored nor looked down, wondered whether she should talk to the devil. Secretly she was hoping that watching the garden would turn out to be a simple task, and that maybe the snake would acknowledge Reficul's superiority.

And once again Reficul felt like an idiot. The other woman didn't show even a hint of fear or respect. Instead, on her face appeared a gentle smile. It was similar to all the woman's gestures, so elegant and graceful, as faint as a brush and impossible to overlook. Reficul couldn't assess whether it was supposed to be sympathetic or perhaps ominous. Her heart skipped a little so she chose the second option.

"You are truly faithful to your god, right? And also cute when you are defending her," the devil said again from her tree. When she noticed Reficul's withering look she sighed. "A joke, a joke. You do not laugh often, do you, miss angel?"

"Certainly not with you," Reficul replied solemnly, "And stop calling me like that."

"So how should I call you? You introduced yourself as a head-angel and my guard. I had two options."

She was mocking her and didn't even try to hide it. Reficul definitely didn't like that but as a person no less ironic, she had to give her a point.

"Maybe you, little demon, should introduce yourself first? Angels are placed higher than bastards similar to you, and you are our prisoner."

"I am Elux's prisoner, I do not intend to recognize my torturer in others. And forgive me, but I have no name."

Reficul's eyebrow shot upward and the corner of her mouth, for balance, went down. The devil laughed, then moved. Earlier she was lying sprawled rather lazily on a tree but now straightened her back and wrapped the tail around a branch again, apparently strengthening the grip. The greenish scales glistened slightly, catching the last sunbeam. Reficul thought that maybe the demon lost her balance and at any moment could hit the ground - and her, who was standing under the tree. But the snake made sure that she was holding on to the branch, then gracefully like an acrobat lowered herself down.

Reficul breathed loudly. She hadn't realized how long the snake tail was. The woman clung to the branches but her body was in an upside-down position, just before Reficul's face, so that she would feel breath of the snake if she took a step forward. She smelled like water flowers and a forest in spring.

"Oh, what is that grimace?" the demon giggled sincerely, as if every day she was giving a demonstration of gymnastic tricks and Reficul's reaction was inconceivable. Although Reficul tried to ignore it, she still noticed that the demon's hair fell and revealed the full outline of her pale body. "I have a rule," she continued, "namely, I never lie. It is not my style. You, angels, think that if something does not have a name then it cannot exist. And you honestly believe in it! But your dear god did not name everything around. Here I an, nameless. My name depends only on who I meet. I am sure Elux made you realize that I am evil.... I am the first sin that has been committed on this earth."

"What a subtle name. A little lengthy."

"So go and play a god, shorten it and name me. What is your sin, miss head-angel? Anger? Pride? Or lust..."

When the devil reached out to touch her, Reficul stepped back.

"Blasphemer.”

"If you want to call me like that then go ahead. Tell me what sparkles in your heart and I will tell you my name."

"This is enough for me, Miss Sin."

"You are trying to be malicious?" the woman asked with surprise.

"No," Reficul replied. She never hid her maliciousness. "I just do not care enough about beings like you. Your name is a matter of convenience rather than respect."

"Now you actually offended me," Sin said, emphasizing excessively how she surely didn't feel offended, "I have not got company for long centuries and you think that your presence is nothing to me. That is not true, miss head-angel..."

"Reficul," she interrupted, "Miss Reficul."

"Reficul..." Sin's voice became as sweet as the smell of apples surrounding her, "I hope you are as responsible as you say and you are going to visit me every day."

"You have my word."

"So would you taste my apples?"