#I say while currently delighting in a fanfic I would consider at the level of Douglas Adams or P.G. Wodehouse

[why-bless-your-heart]

"And are these fanfics better than published novels in the room with us right now?"

[anidealiveson]

Thanksvember Master Post

Day 1 - Like Coming Home - It has a super rare “wholesome plot twist”! Without spoiling anything too huge, I really like that @julesherondalex took the time to talk about how important it is to take care of yourself first. You can’t love someone else properly, the way they deserve, if you don’t have that same love for yourself. I wasn’t expecting the heartbreaking scene, but the beautiful way in which that topic was was approached neither took away from the story or the joy.

Day 2 - Must Love Dogs - An incredibly fluffy (literally) fic that I loved reading. @rosehallshadowsinger did a really great job weaving Azriel and Elain’s canon personalities into this adorable AU scenario. It is obvious @rosehallshadowsinger took care to create believable personalities for two characters that didn’t get POVs in the books.

Day 3 - Striking Matches -  I have to say that I wasn’t at all attracted to an AU fic about firefighters. I was also not a big Rowaelin fan before that, but I was work procrastinating so I gave it a try. Wellll, 30 parts later, I found myself delighted at the writing and sad it was over. I couldn’t believe how well @shyvioletcat cat was able to entirely re-characterize these two into such a different setting, yet still retaining what made them popular in the books. Aelin was perfect in her role as a snarky schoolteacher irritating the stoic firefighter Rowan. And the descriptions of the kids lining up at the firehouse demonstration and Jake’s adorable prodding was icing on the cake.

Day 4 - Close Quarters -  I really loved the way @lady-therion wrote Nesta in this modern AU. I particularly like how she equates Nesta’s sometimes standoffish attitude as a very relatable personality trait. She has trouble reading people and gauging situations. It’s well written and the dialogue is unique for a plot that is common in ff!

Day 5 - Like A Lonely House - It’s got a colossal I love Lucy level misunderstanding mixed in with a lot of tension and angst. This Nesta that is full of sacrifice and duty and fire is how I imagine the Nesta who feels that she has a stake in the Fae world would be like. @featherymalignancy wove such a captivating new world in Macar, that it felt a lot like being introduced to the 8th court in the ACOTAR world.

Day 6 - Death Dance - There are several takes out there that touch on Nesta in the Ilyrian camps, but I love how @thewayshedreamed interpreted Nesta’s skills on the battlefield as a calculated dance. Nesta has always been a raging storm, but I love how @thewayshedreamed took care to show us a Nesta that channeled that storm into discipline. If SJM never intended to release a Nessian focused book, I would have considered this a satisfying end to their story.

Day 7 - One Night Standards - I love the way @sassyhobbits writes Aelin with her typical extremely sassy exterior, but also made sure to saddle her with a vulnerable side that runs deep. I normally don’t care for slow burns, but I like the pace of her relationship with Rowan here, and that they had to work hard at it. I also like the plot lines that involved their PR stunts and how the public grew to love them as well.

Day 8 - Goose Chasing - Its the most absurd plot of any fanfic I’ve read! The title is not figurative. Its really does involve chasing a goose. @rhysismydaddy did a fantastic job encapsulating the spirit of silly Cassian and grumpy Nesta in a situation they’d likely never find themselves in, yet making it entirely believable. 

Day 9 - Manon Chooses The Worst Babysitter Possible - It’s such a casual and fluffy and hilarious read. It was fun to read about a softer and more delicate Manon. Through this absurd mistake, @sarah-bae-maas did an excellent job really humanizing Manon and postulating a fun in-world domestic scenario. 

Day 10 - My Hunger Knows No Bounds -  @perseusannabeth manages to take a simple concept and weave a sweet narrative. I particularly love how @perseusannabeth incorporated her personal details into it and took the time to share her lovely culture with us.

Day 11 - Knowing me, Knowing you - We never got to actually see Aelin rule Terrasen (well we got a tinyyy bit) in the books. Though this was modern day, @nalgenewhore tells a fun story of what that could have been like.

Day 12 -  Forever (is a long time) - @noodlecatposts takes Elide and Lorcan’s completely polar opposite personalities and spins an interesting (and frankly quite adorable) story. All the rules crack me up. My favorite Lorcan is the one that reminds me of Luke Danes from Gilmore Girls. Currently, he is in the middle of grumpily fixing up her flooded room, so I am sure that my favorite parts are yet to come.

Day 13 - Go Your Own Way - I appreciate @tomtenadia for putting to words a scene that I desperately wanted in ACOWAR or even ACOFAS. A lovely parallel to an equally lovely Fleetwood mac song.

Day 14 - In Which She Makes A Friend - It is no surprise that the fandom wants Nesta to find her place in the Illyrian mountains and even bring about some social change with the female warriors. But the way @bookstantrash got there was such a wonderful and endearing journey. Big fan of the callbacks to how Kaelin was treated and the similarities to a certain Illyrian warrior was when he was younger. We got to see a sweet Nesta, who I’d like to think was attempting to make up for some of her regrets through taking care of Kaelin.

Day 15 - The Ranch - As a huge fan of Sweet Home Alabama, its should be no surprise that I loved this fic by @tacmc . I enjoyed the slow change that we saw in a stubborn Nesta as she opened up to this new way of life and reconnected with her sisters and found a home with Cassian.

Day 16 - Felons - Such a unique interpretation of Nesta and Cassian. I really like the self-sacrificing Nesta angle and @rhysismydaddy did a great job weaving intrigue into the unraveling of what we knew to be a her innocence. I never read The Witness, but this really made me want to.

Day 17 - Of Books and Timber - Cassian offers to build a shelf for Nesta. The way @duskandstarlight goes through the entire range of emotions through Nesta is brilliant. She starts out with cold indifference, but by the end, we get from her a sweet and tender gesture of gratitude. Showing that meeting each other halfway with small gestures is all they ever needed.

Day 18 - You Should Sleep In My Bed More Often - I absolutely loved this quick exchange between Nesta and Cassian after she accidentally injures him. I can’t believe how much I laughed out loud when Cassian said “I need you to protect me closer”. @charincharge​ perfectly captured the teasing childish essence of Cassian and Nesta’s hilarious victim-blaming was so on the nose that I might have thought this was taken right out of ACOSAF.

Day 19 - The Right Swipe - I really enjoyed this take on the inner circle mixed with the super modern online dating plot. I especially love that @redisriding created genuinely realistic characters (body issues, social anxiety etc). Great read!

Day 20 - Goldfish Prompt - What a fun read. I love how frantic and much personality Feyre had here. I love how dedicated to her fish she was, and how that made her super endearing. Cute read from @azrielsiphons

Day 21 - The One With The Snowstorm -  What I really like is that Cassian actually says that he is sorry for his part in Nesta’s exile. I am not bitter about it, but it was an interesting turn. They need to meet halfway here and I rarely see it so well written as @joysbell has done here!

Day 22 - Prompt - A lovely and cute and sweet prompt written by @crowsvalentine​! I love the ramp up of suspense just to get to the hilarious payoff. Its adorable and worth the quick read.

Day 23 - Fix It -  is one by @thewayshedreamed​ that I love in its simplicity. It’s a small little argument Cassian and Nesta get into, but its still compelling. It’s sweet and super endearing the way the two of them are written and the subtle way they work through it. Great read!

Day 24 - I Do Bad Things To You - The mob angle may have been done before, but I don’t think with as much care and regard that @tswaney17​ has been giving it. I how the canon personalities of the characters translate so well into this modern AU. Its very obvious that @tswaney17​ has done her research. I especially love all the details around Elain as a surgeon. The story is compelling and well written and every chapter has me wanting more.

Day 25 - Love Her Like She should Be Loved - This is an excellent fic that I really loved. @julemmaes did such a great job translating some of the canon tension from ACOFAS into a modern world. It’s ripe with emotion, drama and quite a bit of heart. I love how earnestly Cassian comes to Nesta’s defense even in the face of going against his entire family. I like the reference to some very real psychological struggles. I think a lot of people can relate to it.

Day 26 - Literally In Love - I really enjoy the subtle mystery that follows this entire journey. I enjoy that @julesherondalex keeps us guessing, while simultaneously weaving a sweet and tender story about two shy teachers and just a slew of mishaps worthy of a Shakespearian drama.

Day 27 - The Shadow Bond - I love Azriel, and this is such a wonderful fic by @radientwings​ focusing on how his shadows might work. His shadows are the one thing that I am most curious about him in the series, so it was lovely to read such a well written interpretation of them.

Day 28 - Exes and Oh’s - Just a shout out to @highqueenofelfhame​ for this lovely story about rekindling past love. I like that even though the plot was uncomplicated, the emotions were not. I love that Aelin didn’t have a perfect reason for what she did, but sometimes that is just how things are. This is a story about taking a second chance, whether it’s deserved or not.

Day 29 - Fever - I really love this fic called Fever. I enjoyed how @lady-therion​ portrayed Nesta. She hit the entire gammut of characteristics (snarky, worried, vulnerable, caring, short-tempered, flirty, you name it!) but it really worked here. I found this nurse Nesta to be endearing and relatable and the dynamic between her and Cassian was very sweet. Just go read the damned thing.

Day 30 - Baby Steps - I really really love this fic. @runesandfaes did such a great job in just so few words to show a really sweet moment between Chaol, Yrene and their daughter learning to walk. I love the parallel back to when Chaol was learning to walk and the cameo of the golden couch. So sweet.

[meta-shadowsong]

Quick response to Mandalorian season finale

Behind a cut because, well.

Okay, yes, I am in this show for Dadalorian and Found Family etc. But I am at least as invested in the plotline this season about various factions of Mandalorians and their, for lack of a better word, sectarian disputes. Which frequently result in barfights. Because Mandalorians.

(AKA that scene where they picked up Bo and her minion was. A Delight.)

(Also, I love my girl Bo-Katan. Even if she’s very much a blunt instrument/not a politician going at this in all the wrong ways and was Very Rude to Boba but tbh I wasn’t 100% sure she was going to show up in this episode and I would’ve been Sad if we hadn’t gotten to see them meet. Either here or next season.)

(Still Sad at the lack of Sabine, though :( )

Leaving aside anything re: Gina Caranno (because that has been discussed by people much smarter and better-informed than myself), I’m kind of thrilled that the strike team was Almost Entirely Ladies.

(On that note. Uh. Does anyone else kinda. That little “Anyone else, we can take” smirk. And I just. Uh. Bo/Fennec, anyone??????)

(I kind of already ship Bo with Ventress tbh but a) multishipping ftw and b) threesome??????)

(Hi I’m shallow sometimes lol)

Anyway moving on.

Also the sound/almost-music when the Cylons Dark Troopers were activating was Excellent I approve.

And that Visual of the one trooper Din set on fire. ...honestly that whole hallway fight sequence was pretty Brilliant.

And the sort of...almost casual layer of the scene in the elevator. Even if these women haven’t worked together before, just that, “sure you don’t need any help with that?” “I got it. Excuse me.”

And that whole thing where Gideon was trying to Manipulate Din and he was like “...dude, I legit just care about the kid. I’ll fight for/with Bo-Katan because she’s pretty badass and I Might As Well plus she gets me what I want but I don’t...actually...Care about her Greater Cause?”

(Side note, I’ve spent a lot of time writing Bo-Katan/figuring out how her head works and literally all she cares about is Mandalore and its survival. It’s why she broke away from her sister in the first place, and has informed every single thing she’s done since. A lot of why she makes the specific choices she does goes back to the Mandalorian Civil War and her experiences there--especially since all the evidence indicates she was not with Satine and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. The way that separation and their different experiences of that conflict probably contributed to the eventual destruction of what seems likely to have been a Very Close Relationship before that is fascinating to me. And the subject of a fic I’ve been working on off and on for a couple years now, lol.)

(...anyway, where I was going with this was--I mean, yes, Gideon knows everything in terms of facts, but he doesn’t always interpret them correctly. IMO, Bo-Katan’s desire to rule Mandalore is less about power (for herself) than it is about Mandalore. Especially given some of what she says to Sabine in Rebels--if there was someone else she genuinely trusted to take the throne and rule her world, she’d be willing to cede her claim and be one of their generals. Especially since she’s very much not a political animal. She’s an excellent war leader, but not so much in terms of actual Governance.)

(insert long ramble about the Parallels between her and Anakin, which I touched on in one of my fanfics, lol; and will probably do more with in my BB project which involves the two of them and Padme as the main characters)

(And, yeah, she does want to fight Din for the right, but if she thought Din would be a good Duke/King of Mandalore, I think she would seriously considering swearing allegiance to him? Again, witness how she handled things with Sabine. Also she would probs prefer to avoid a third (fourth?) civil war in her lifetime. But, I mean. I love Din but he is. He is not a Leader. Not like her people need.)

(And I think the way things played out with Sabine affects her decisions here, too--she did accept the Darksaber as a gift/tribute then, but proceeded to lose it. Maybe she does need to fight for it the way Maul and Viszla did (presumably; we don’t know how he got the Darksaber; it may be something he inherited/have been held by House Viszla for a while, even if they never used it to dethrone the Kryzes until now).)

(But, then again, I mean, this has been her life for at least a decade, so...well, maybe she wouldn’t quite step aside. Even if an Absolutely Perfect candidate came along. But WRT Din specifically--given who he is and what he’s capable of, while she absolutely wants him in her camp (and on a personal level isn’t super thrilled about having to fight him like this; she seems to genuinely like this kid), my guess is she doesn’t want him ruling. Not without some more actual leadership training/experience. Because, well, he’s been either a follower or a loner in everything we’ve seen him in, and given Bo’s opinion of (possibly experience with?) the Watch/the group who raised him, and the fact that he’s consistently shown himself to have super-narrow priorities and not really caring about much outside of them...yeah, she probs has some Concerns.)

(Plus, he clearly doesn’t want it. And you have to Want It on some level in order to be an effective ruler--that Wanting can be from genuine altruism/wanting to make the world better, like we see with Bail and Padme; it can be from single-minded determination to Make Things Right, like Satine and I would argue Bo-Katan (Leia falls into either the first or second category, depending on the point in her storyline); and it can come from a desire for personal power and advancement (as we see with Pre Viszla and, of course, Skeev Palpatine himself; to be fair, rulers in this third category tend to be bad in other ways lol). But someone who genuinely doesn’t want power generally kind of Sucks when they’re unexpectedly handed it. Which I could cite several IRL historical examples of. And, I mean, obviously, this isn’t the only factor in play for what makes a good ruler/leader (see above re: Palps and Pre Viszla), but it is a factor.)

(Also, to clarify: none of these are bad qualities/traits, necessarily? Like, traits are good or bad depending on whatever context a person/character finds themself in. And in Din’s current context, with his current life and mission--even in situations where he has to coordinate with other groups in the service of a larger goal--these are excellent traits to have. But for someone who’s responsible for an entire nation? Not so much.)

(One could argue that Bo has some Issues there, too, albeit different ones, which is why I think she might be willing to step aside and cede her claim to a Genuinely Good/Better Alternative, if she found one. She’s a war-leader, not a ruler, and the two jobs require overlapping but different skillsets.)

(..........honestly? I don’t think the show would go there, but I think the two of them as a team/partnership ruling Mandalore would actually be really effective? Either on an equal footing or with one as the Official Ruler and the other as a second-in-command/right-hand. She has the leadership expertise and the actual will and drive to pull this off, and he has the diplomatic skill, as we see with the Tusken Raiders, among others.)

(Not a romantic partnership, lol, that would be Weird, but a political and probably eventually platonically affectionate one. Especially with how Mandalore feels about family of choice/adoption, and the fact that they’re both kind of alone now (whatever happened to Korkie, anyway??) even if no formal adoption is likely in their case...)

(Anyway. Uh. Long tangent aside...)

(also if there’s anyone who didn’t see Gideon trying to decapitate Din when his back was turned...IDEK what you were expecting. Like. I am All About guys like Pellaeon in the Imperial ranks, and the fact that there might be a few people who would make that offer/deal and be on the level. To say nothing of my best beloved Alexsandr Kallus. But. Uh. Gideon is. Not one of them.)

(Also, I thought it was a Nice Touch when the spear started turning red--because, no, the Darksaber can’t cut pure beskar. But it does generate heat, as we’ve seen in, say, TPM. And beskar does melt.)

Also, called it on tossing the Cylons Dark Troopers out the airlock Not Working in the long term.

While it’s not Cool or Flashy like a bomb or slicing, the Cylons Dark Troopers pounding the doors down with their goddamn fists was Cool and Terrifying in all the best ways.

Side note--I think even if I hadn’t been spoiled (forgot to mute the spoiler channels on the SW Discords I’m on before going to bed, and checked on autopilot), X-wing + Grogu perking up would’ve probably clued me in and I would’ve been SHRIEKING. I was still vibrating super hard even though I knew who was coming, but it probably would’ve been slightly more XD

(and then a moment of HAHA GIDEON KNOWS WHAT’S COMING)

(and so does my girl Bo)

(and then the green ‘saber and the glove and other costume details and IF YA DIDN’T SCREAM BEFORE YOU SURE ARE NOW!!!!)

(Kind of cool that they waited until the last minute before showing his actual face though)

NO MY GIRL BO-KATAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(IF YOU DIE WHO WILL GET DRUNK AND SWAP WAR STORIES AND MAYBE HAVE VICTORY SEX WITH FENNEC)

(shut up i’m shallow)

(also I love her she’s legit one of my favorite characters in this series I don’t want her to die DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD:)

OH GOOD SHE GOT UP

(yeah that was my actual real-time reaction to her getting shot lol)

“Talent without training is nothing.” ::insert Obvious/Tired joke about Luke having all of three months’ training At Best::

(also, I mentioned this in my last quick reaction, as well as elsewhere, but I’m...still kind of uncomfortable with the continuing implication that the Jedi path is the only option other than Darkness. Not because it’s a bad one, either in the PT-era or with Luke’s reconstruction. But the idea that the only way to achieve the mindset/emotional stability/whatever needed to wield the Force without Falling is through adapting the Jedi philosophy sits wrong with me. especially the implication that you can only do so from an early age/in isolation from other influences or bonds; which is a word I’m using very specifically because there’s a difference between Attachment as defined by the Jedi and interpersonal bonds which they clearly have and I don’t want this to get derailed by that particular Discourse(tm) That doesn’t even super hold up on Earth, with a single species, let alone in a galaxy with trillions of beings of multiple different species. Basically, people and the galaxy--and by extension the Force, which is in part created/influenced by living beings--are way too complicated for there to be only one right answer.)

(Also, it...doesn’t really hold up with the core message of Star Wars, which is about Choice? If the only way you can be a Good Force Adept is by meeting this extremely narrow set of criteria, most of which are outside your possible control......but I should probably save this for a separate post, lol.)

(The point is, I mentioned earlier in the post how much I’m LOVING the throughline in this season about different factions/sects among Mandalorians, and I think it would be Great if we got more of that with Jedi/Light adepts.)

(Anyway. Uh. Back to the episode...)

That FACE MOMENT had me legit crying omg

ARTOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!@@21!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

omg had they MET

I...don’t know what I was expecting from the credits but Welp. I wonder who the body double was...

(And before you ask, I didn’t really get the Uncanny Valley effect from Rogue One, not even Tarkin, so.....yeah, I guess I don’t always pick up on that, or it hits me from weird directions, lol. Because I sometimes get that from the Rebels animation, especially in stills/gifsets, because everyone’s faces are all so Smooth...)

.........Jabba’s palace, okay.

.......Bib Fortuna, Okay.

(those fingernails, however, are Not Okay)

YAY RESCUE THE GIRL.

Good on you, Boba, just shooting him in the face instead of letting him posture!

although why you want to rule Tatooine is...okay then.

LOL at Fennec perching on the arm of the chair, sipping her booze all casual-like.

Right! So that was an Experience! Overall, I liked it. Looking forward to how Din and Bo handle things moving forward, in particular! Because, like I said, I’m in this series for Dadalorian (so IDK how I’ll feel with it no longer being the Core Story since Grogu left with Luke) and in this season for the Mandalorian factions/sects and how they interact.

I’m also not sure how I feel about three interconnected series leading up to a Major Finale Event? Disney’s Star Wars has not had a super great track record with giving all the information needed to follow things in the core product (see: the ST worldbuilding lol, and also some of the cameos/appearances in this season, even), so I’m Skeptical of how well they’ll do explaining what is Necessary in each of the three series, in case someone only watches one or two.

What were your thoughts?

[dragons-quill]

Good Omens Fanfic: “Cuddle Theory” Ineffable Husbands

I return with my brand style of self-indulgent fluff.

Tags: Cuddling, inappropriately formatted footnotes, teasing

When he’d thought about what cuddling with Crowley would be like, [1] Aziraphale had rather assumed there would be a certain period of necessary adjustment to find the most comfortable way to press in close with someone who carried perhaps 5% fat over their entire body.  This hadn’t dissuaded his imagination; while not at Crowley’s level, Aziraphale’s love of the written word had developed his own ability to daydream satisfactorily. By the time the actual act of cuddling came up between them -some 5700 years or so since its human adaptation - Aziraphale thought he had a fair idea of how flat and bony and generally uncomfortable the act would be.

---

[1] And he had, far longer than Crowley expected - cuddling was an animal invention that humans quickly adapted, and they were still figuring out how to make skins into proper clothes the first time Aziraphale pondered what it must be like to maintain such close contact with another being [1b] and imagined, if not followed through on, asking his only immortal coworker to experiment on the pros and cons of cuddling versus cowering for warmth

[1b] (Stifling?  Warm? Nice? They were rather odiferous, these early humans..but that demon he was always running into smelled rather nicely of woodsmoke and something he couldn’t identify [1c] and so perhaps he might be the best one to experiment with?  If he wasn’t a demon, of course.)

    [1c][cinnamon, he would learn much later]

----

However, he had also, over this time, fallen rather madly in love with Crowley, and so had decided that a certain lack of comfort was perfectly fine if it meant being close to his beloved demon.  Anything, in fact, was worth it, now that they could safely be together. Besides,  he  was nice and soft, and so could be the cuddler and Crowley the cuddlee, if need be.

Read more here or over on Ao3!

What he had not expected was for the moment to come so naturally that he was, in fact, already curled against Crowley’s side, with Crowley’s arm around him and Crowley’s breath ruffling through his curls and Crowley’s voice reading aloud (it had taken so little to convince him, really, and Azirpahale was  terribly  pleased) when he realized that oh.  

He was actually quite comfortable.

“Oh!” he said aloud, startling Crowley mid-word and bringing those lovely yellow eyes toward him, though he couldn’t see them as his cheek was currently snuggled against the demon’s arm.  “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Surprissse?” Crowley asked, the hiss one of lazy comfort rather than distress, and Aziraphale liked that, too.  He liked Crowley truly comfortable, not circling and watching and twitching, but just being , warm and brilliant in Aziraphale’s company.  

“Yes, dearest,” Aziraphale said, too happy to stop and consider what he was about to say (and besides, he had stopped and considered for SO long, and wasn’t the point of being on their own side that they could say what they wanted and do what they willed?).  “I’d fancied cuddling,” (“ Cuddling?”  Crowley bunged in, as if Aziraphale was cursing, but Azirpahale paid him no mind ), “would be a bit of a challenge, but it’s not at all, is it?”

There was a moment of silence, and then, in a low voice that thrummed with something Aziraphale had always secretly known was fond amusement, though he’d spent millenia pretending it was something else, Crowley asked, “A challenge?  I need a bit of clarification, Angel.”

“Ah!  Well!”  Aziraphale moved as if to pull away, but Crowley’s arm was clearly unimpressed with the idea and refused to be of any assistance.  Aziraphale resettled rather than engage in a round of wrestling that he would, frankly, win. “You are rather made up of sharp corners, and I’d thought an elbow or three might find its way into my ribcage, but really you’re quite warm and lovely.”

Another beat, and then, incredulous: “You thought I was too  skinny  to,” the word caught on the demonish tongue, “  cuddle with ?”

Aziraphale lifted his head, trying to see Crowley’s face but catching only his nose and part of an eye.  “Well, I’ve never - there’s never been anyone else to try with, has there?” he asked, a bit petulantly. “How was I to know?”

The line of Crowley’s jaw was hard. [2]  “Is that why you’re always trying to get me to share your desserts?”

---

[2] This was because he was trying very hard not to laugh, but Azirapahle wasn’t aware of this at the time.

----

Aziraphale sat up, superior strength batting Crowley’s arm away with minimum effort.  “My  dear  , of  course  not, you  must  know that I would cuddle-”

Crowley’s mouth was twisted into a strange shape.  “You really need another word-”

Azirphale blushed but obligingly and daring said, “ -Canoodle with you no matter what your form!  You are the only cu-” he caught himself, “-canoodler in my heart.”  He rested a soft hand over his corporation’s chest, eyes wide and beseeching.

One burnished eyebrow rose.  “Do you even know what canoodling means, Aziraphale?” he asked, and maybe there was a new sort of hiss to his voice that the angel hadn’t heard before.

Aziraphale sniffed, cheeks still pink.  “Of course I do! It means to...to…” he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders as if teaching a lesson, “to kiss and cuddle amorously.”

Crowley tsked.  “And here I thought you were a precious innocent.”

“Oh, Crowley, please don’t  start -”

“And here you’ve been-”

“Darling.”

“-checking me over for my ability to  cuddle amorously .”  He was grinning now, a little too broad, the whites of his eyes disappearing behind delighted honey yellow.  

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed.  “You,” he said accusingly, “are  teasing  me.”

“I am, Angel, I am.  But in my defense, you just confessed that you thought I was uncuddleable, and that you had been  thinking  about this for some time, and you’d decided I’m too  pointy .”

Aziraphale harumphed delicately.  “You  are  pointy,” he argued, even as he pulled his feet up and muscled his way back under Crowley’s arm.  His voice softened as Crowley chuckled to himself, and he took long, thin fingers in his own plump ones.  “And I would not have you change for the world.”

A little shift, and Crowley asked, “And heaven?”

Aziraphale scoffed again.  “You are worth a million of those.”  

Crowley snickered.  Aziraphale cuddled. Crowley pressed a kiss into the mess of white blond curls.  “Canoodling,” he said, on the bark of a laugh.

“Later, darling.  Baby steps.” Aziraphale grinned to himself at the indeterminate noise that earned.  “For now,” he wiggled happily closer, “you have a chapter to finish.”

If Crowley finished the chapter at a somewhat unacceptable speed for proper reading aloud, Aziraphale made no mention of it.  He could be a gentleman, after all.

[prof-zimbrane]

The Face of Love

Summary: They’ve done almost all the dating cliches in existence, they’ve been in an established relationship for a while now but there are still secrets between them. Secrets pertaining to a certain someone’s true appearance. Zim loves Professor Membrane and he’s sure that the feelings are mutual but should he risk it?

Word Count: 7443

AO3 link

Yo, here’s a Zimbrane fic for the upcoming Halloween. It’s got body horror?? I guess so read with caution. It’s nothing too bad. Believe me, I bet it’s something you won’t expect ;)

It’s my first fanfic?? ever I guess so please be gentle and if possible, give me feedback on how I can improve cuz I love this pairing and I wanna write more for them ;-;

Zim’s current love-slave has everything Zim ever wants in a partner. Professor Membrane is brilliant, tall, good with weapons, and has caused Dib more anguish and doubt than Zim could ever cause.

Zim knows and has seen what Professor Membrane can accomplish. Combined, they’d be the greatest gift to the universe in all its existence. But there is this… oddity to their relationship.

Most couples would’ve already known how the other really looked like, appearance wise (actual personalities are sometimes never revealed), at their current stage. Yet somehow, Zim has never seen his partner’s face.

Sure Zim hides his appearance, but unlike Professor Membrane, Zim is pretty sure he has a lot more to lose, given his “foreign” heritage and occupation as an invader and all.

But Professor Membrane must be human, right? Whatever horrible thing he’s hiding under his lab coat and goggles couldn’t be the worst Zim has ever seen. Zim isn’t superficial enough to stop loving someone based on their appearance, height notwithstanding, hell humans are already ugly enough to Zim yet he still decided to pursue the scientist.

Maybe Professor Membrane was scarred or disfigured? Or maybe he’s so horrifyingly ugly according to “human” standards that he has to hide it. Dib does have a rather large head after all and Gretchen’s the only one Zim knows (has been told) that seems to like Dib.

There’s nothing wrong with asking things from your partner. In fact, it would only be fair for Zim’s burning curiosity to be satisfied. If Zim wants to find out how Professor Membrane looks like, then he will find it out. He is Zim, nothing is out of the question. But is he ready for it?

He could leave things as they are and continue like normal, or he could confront Professor Membrane and find out what’s hidden underneath. But would it be too soon? They’ve done all sorts of couply things together already, according to Zim’s “dating humans” guide list he devised when learning about human affection that one dreadful time with Tiq? Taco? T something, he still misses his robot bee, Robbee never even completed his first mission, but that’s irrelevant now.

They’ve gone to an expensive eating establishment (Zim paid with Earth monies but those monies were outdated cents and quarters), they’ve watched the sun set and looked at the stars (one of Zim’s favourite moments), they’ve watched horror movies in the cinema (they were more horrified by the actions of the teens surrounding them though), and they even did a “Netflix & Chilli” (Zim still believes that the alien Jim is a loser for losing his leaders to a space anomaly).

They’ve even passed through several stages of physical affection. It started out with staring, then casual pats, they’ve even skipped straight to hugging before hand holding. They haven’t begun eating each other’s faces yet but Zim still finds it repulsive and another factor in the brutishness of stinky human courtship rituals.

Today was one of their date nights. Their plans only included dinner at Zim’s base. Though, Zim hopes that Professor Membrane will acknowledge his amazement at Zim’s awesome cooking skills and be willing to show his face once and for all.

 ---------------------

Dinner went off splendidly. Although the turkey had an unfortunate extra ingredient added to it, in the form of a dysfunctional, hyperactive robot. Professor Membrane thankfully thought of it as a pleasant surprise, meant to showcase Zim’s brilliance.

But now comes the hard part. Zim has to convince the Professor to stay for a while longer. He can do this.

Zim mustered up all his courage and held Professor Membrane’s hand as he was about to say his goodbyes.

“Wait! Stay a bit longer! I still have much to do with you!” Zim looks desperately into Professor Membrane’s shiny goggles, he HAS to find out what was underneath or else he’ll be restless for the entirety of their relationship, which would definitely affect his plans.

“What? We didn’t plan anything else for tonight though. Dib and Gaz should be fine but this is rather sudden.” Professor Membrane looks at their clasped hands and Zim’s hopeful expression.

“What is it that you want exactly? Are we going to your lab again?” He questioned.

He’s been helping Zim out with his inventions, spending a lot of hours just tinkering together in harmony. Science has always been a delight to do but with Zim, it feels like he’s experiencing it for the first time ever. He’s regained some of his wonder and childish curiosity with Zim’s input and feedback.

Anxiety was visible through Zim’s body language. He was hunched over, his eyes hurriedly shifting from left to right and back. He exhaled.

“I want to progress our relationship to the next stage,” Zim admits, “it’s just that, all we’ve done so far is hold hands and cuddle. Not that I hate it! If you ever stop then I will go to your house at night and replace your roboarms with bamboo skewers!”

Zim lets go to cross his arms and glare.

“Well, it is true that we’ve been taking it slow. I could say that part of it is my fault for being unfamiliar with this... relationship thing.” Professor Membrane muses. Is Zim dissatisfied with what they currently have?

“I’m sorry Zim, am I going too slowly for you?” he asked.

“No not at all! You satisfy me plenty. I admit that I’m also new to what we’re doing right now.” Zim quickly denied.

Professor Membrane feels relief. As a scientist, he can deal with all sorts of fields but relationships were harder to understand.

“That’s good, I treasure you and our love together. I don’t usually get to have a lab partner who’s not an employee of mine.” He confesses. He’s grown too attached.

“Great! As for the reason I am keeping you here for,” Zim paused.

He was in the right to ask for things. He shouldn’t feel worried.

 “I’m demanding that you show your face to me.” Zim said resolutely. He looked expectedly at his human.

Professor Membrane felt panic. He should’ve expected it. He didn’t think it would be now though.

“My face? There’s nothing to see! It looks quite boring underneath.” He tried to play it off.

Zim looks dejected and hurt. Professor Membrane ignored him, that hurt.

“But I don’t even know what you look like. I don’t know the colour of your eyes or the shape of your face or even if you have weird lips. How can I be sure that you’re not a new person every time we meet? Are you even the original Membrane that I confessed to? You’re not another weird clone right?” Zim accused. Starting a chain of repeated lines.

“I’m not…” Professor Membrane answered.

“Are you?”

“I’m not…”

“Are you?!”

“I’m not...”

“Are you?!!”

He had enough. While he may love Zim, he doesn’t enjoy this continuous back and forth, even if it is somewhat cute.

“ZIM!” he shouted, “I swear by my 24 degrees that I’m not a clone. I’m the only original Professor Membrane in this reality.”

“Then why are you hiding your face from me? Don’t worry! I don’t mind if you look hideous. Just show me your trust.” He tried to look harmless but inside, Zim is worried that he’s asking for too much. Something is telling him to trust Professor Membrane in return.

Professor Membrane remained silent for a while. He’s debating internally over whether he should show Zim his face.

But eventually he relented to Zim’s request.

“Alright, I’ll show you but do you have somewhere else where we could do this? Your kitchen-lavatory room is not what I have in mind for sharing personal secrets”

They looked around. Gir, still in the turkey, was taking care of his many pig friends. The camera Dib installed is still visibly there, recording their conversation. Zim should remind the Computer to disable it or have it record a non-stop footage of Floopsy Bloops Schmoopsy.

“Urghh, I guess it’s fine.” Zim groans out. “Join me in my basement.”

He leads Professor Membrane by the hands through a closet that goes underground. It was different from the other places of Zim’s underground level. Here is where he kept his more Earth friendly technology.

It looks somewhat similar to Professor Membrane’s own lab in his basement, except with what appears to be a waiting area, with a sofa, a soda vending machine and a receptionist desk. But the only life there were bundled in the cobwebs of the receptionist’s chair. The receptionist is apparently out for smoke break.

They settled on the comfortable purple sofa. Anticipation was in the air.

“Well? Show Zim the goods!” Zim holds out his arms in a ‘gimme’ gesture. He can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.

Professor Membrane takes off his goggles first to reveal his eyes. His fingers then undid the upper half of his lab coat to reveal the bottom half of his face. Underneath his lab coat he wore a tight, black turtle neck.

It’s not what Zim expected. He was shocked. His previous expectations were crushed like humans should be underneath his boot.

There’s nothing wrong. Professor Membrane’s face looks like any other humans. If Zim were human, he’d even consider Professor Membrane’s face to be ridiculously good-looking, even by celebrity standards. But Zim wasn’t a human so, to him Professor Membrane’s face was as ugly as all the rest of the human species.

Even Professor Membrane’s eyes are nothing extraordinary, except for the glowing blue light that the irises emit and the pupils that expanded and contracted like camera shutters.

Zim actually found himself feeling slightly disappointment, since there was nothing special to look at.

“Is that all you have hidden there? Why even bother wearing your coat and goggles so conservatively?” Zim says annoyingly.

“That’s just my fashion sense.” Professor Membrane says chipperly.

He laughed disconcertingly, a drawn out “Ha ha ha,” as if he were watching a comedian embarrass himself instead of delivering actual jokes.

He’s trying to placate Zim. Professor Membrane was acting strange. His lips seem to be delayed by a couple of nanoseconds when he speaks. If it weren’t for the many modifications Irkens had to endure, Zim never would have noticed.

“Your eyes are different though. They’re not brown like the eyes of the Dib-beast or the little Gaz-monster.” Zim is judging Professor Membrane.

Zim’s nicknames for his kids were odd but somehow, they sounded charming to the Professor.

“I had them replaced when my vision was failing, you know how humans are with all the limitations of biology.” He hand waved his difference away. Zim is still not satisfied.

“Let me see them closer.”

Zim leaned on Professor Membrane. He’s holding Professor Membrane’s face in his palms as he stared deep into his human’s eyes. Zim always thought that human eyes were freaky, with their milky white sclera. But Professor Membrane’s eyes were pretty. He had long lashes and the electric blue glow they emitted reminded Zim of Tallest Miyuki’s calm gaze that captivated the hearts of her people.

Zim observed the rest of his face, Professor Membrane’s nose looked regal and fit him perfectly. Zim also notes that his features were perfectly symmetrical, another contributing factor in human attractiveness, although this time it also extended to Irken beauty standards. Finally, there was something both races had in common.

Before he realized it, his gaze then went down to the scientist’s lips. They looked soft and had a perfect curve to them. But they were pressed tight, stiff and unmoving.

He was removed out of his stupor when Professor Membrane uttered a word, Zim’s name, from his perfectly shaped lips. Such perfection was otherworldly, it shouldn’t exist. There weren’t any blemishes or other hideous imperfections on his skin either.

“Zim? Zim! While I do find your attention flattering, don’t you think you’re too close?” Professor Membrane said in a hitched voice.

Professor Membrane’s eyes revealed his current emotions more than the rest of his face. Despite the nervous tone, his face remained stoic, his wide-blown, erratic pupils betrayed him instead.

Zim hadn’t realized, but he’s moved so close that he was kneeling on top of Professor Membrane. They’ve cuddled before, it’s true, but never this close, and never face-to-face with Professor Membrane’s exposed, hypnotic eyes.

It was the first time Zim didn’t feel revulsion at seeing a human. His past self would’ve spitted at him and called him a filthy xenophile for feeling whatever this is. But Zim putting himself before his empire was nothing new, although it still hurt him to acknowledge it.

“You’re actually not too hideous. I am pleased.” Zim tried to sound dismissive, but it’s clear that he is affected by his lover’s appearance.

“I’m glad my face pleases you then, my celestial lover.” Professor Membrane said warmly.

His expression was light. A smile graced his lips. That made something flutter in Zim’s innards.

But he began feeling another rare feeling, guilt. What is it with all these feelings now?? Zim is too great to be bothered by that. Yet, should he reveal his actual face? Would he be dissected or worse vivisected if he did? He doesn’t want to live out the rest of his life stuck in a tube. His partner was related to Dib after all and his passion for science is, at times, obsessive.

Zim was distracted from his worries by a sudden pressure on his lips. They were soft. His love was kissing him. That was Zim’s first kiss. Not just Zim’s first kiss on the lips but first kiss in general, and it had to be lip-to-lip.

Before he could respond to Professor Membrane’s actions, the Professor drew back with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry Zim, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.” He mumbled.

Professor Membrane’s arms, which were previously stuck to his side, lifted to caress Zim’s head.

“I couldn’t help myself, you’re really cute Zim. Was it too soon?” He asked.

“No it’s fine. I liked it. I liked it a lot.” Zim felt dizzy. He was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but it was the truth.

“There won’t be any cannibalism though right?” asked Zim. Worry appeared on his face again but more exaggerated than before.

“What if there was, what if I admit that I want to eat you up?” Professor Membrane said teasingly. He’s amused by his love’s thinking.

“If anyone does the eating it would be Zim!” he exclaimed. “My love-pig is no match for my razor sharp teeth.”

Zim shows off his pink, zipper teeth. Another odd thing about Zim that captivates the curious mind of the Professor.

“Perhaps, we should test it out with a little experiment?” Professor Membrane’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“What kind of experiment?” Zim questioned.

“An experiment where we find out who’ll consume the other first.” He challenged Zim.

“It will definitely be me.” Zim grinned, showing off his teeth again.

This time, it was Zim who acted first. He pressed his lips tight against his human’s. Zim’s antenna tingled underneath his wig, if he hadn’t stuck it tightly with adhesives before, they would’ve sprung free from their confinement, he’s learnt his lessons during Earth’s many challenges.

Professor Membrane held Zim tighter towards his body. As if he never wants to let go, as if he’s afraid of losing Zim.

Zim’s hands were still occupied with exploring every inch of Professor Membrane’s face. He wants to burn his love's features into his hands, forever imprinting their impressions into his memory.

But, during Zim’s explorations, he began noticing a long depression near the outer reaches of Professor Membrane’s face. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, if Zim hadn’t been an Irken. Irkens had really sensitive skin, that’s why they cover themselves up so much.

He paused his kissing to get a better feel for Professor Membrane’s face. The depression circled the outer cheeks, over the eyebrows and seemingly ended between Professor Membrane’s upper and lower lip on both sides.

“My love? What are you doing?” Professor Membrane stuttered out. Yet, Zim’s previous observations about the stoicism of his features seemed sprung out more than ever.

“There is something you’re keeping from me. I can sense it beneath my fingers!” Zim accused Professor Membrane.

He stood up from his previous position to pace around the room, never taking his eyes of his lover. Zim moved like an interrogator in a prison. He won’t stand any lies.

If Professor Membrane could emote more, he’d have despair written all over his face. His right hand began covering the bottom part of face, in a nervous gesture.

“Zim, my love, there’s nothing wrong. Come back to my arms. Whatever you felt must have been due to your unfamiliarity with my face.”

Still seated, he leans towards Zim with his arms spread out.

“Oh no! Don’t lie to me! I know what I’ve felt, I’ve seen how you move your lips. Why don’t you trust me?!” Zim recoils.

Zim’s never trusted anyone before but he expects trust from them. Zim has always believed himself to be a genuine person, sans his human disguise, and to have his character or actions questioned really pissed him off.

“You’re right Zim,” he relented “I am hiding something. I’ve only shown this to a few of the people I know, and it’s always ended in them disappearing. Not even Gaz or Dib have seen me without this.”

There’s something chilling about the way Professor Membrane says it. It was like Zim stepped on an old landmine, waiting to see if it’ll end in a disaster or not. He’s not sure about what Professor Membrane meant by disappearing but he doesn’t want to question it. As a part of the Irken Elite and as an Irken soldier, he can face anything.

“Don’t worry, whatever secrets you hold won’t be enough to scare me away. I love you, I’ve never loved anyone before.” Zim’s voice was soft, remarkably different from his usual screeching.

How many times has he said those words? Aside from his first sentence towards the only parental unit Zim ever knew, he’s only said it to Professor Membrane.

Again, Zim is doing something uncharacteristic. Was he trying to ease Professor Membrane’s discomfort with this entire thing? Trying to convince himself to be brave? Or was it just love that made Zim say that. Could a human really make Zim question himself that way? What kind of person is Professor Membrane to hold this much power over Zim’s heart.

“Please, don’t look away.” Professor Membrane pleaded.

He walked towards Zim, the height difference more noticeable now that they’re standing in front of each other. But that difference disappeared though, when Professor Membrane kneeled in front of Zim.

It was like one of those Earth movies that Zim watches, where one of the members of a couple kneel down to ask for a union. But instead of reaching into a pocket for a small rock, Professor Membrane reached for the sides of his face.

Slowly, he revealed what’s hidden underneath. Zim was right. Professor Membrane was disfigured. What he didn’t expect was the severity of the disfigurement.

In all of Zim’s time on Earth, with his countless research on human biology, he’s never sliced off anyone’s face. But even then, it wouldn’t have looked like Professor Membrane’s current features. His face was a prosthetic.

He has no face, no barrier protecting his passageways from the outside world. The only remaining parts of Professor Membrane’s face were his lower jaw, his temples, and his eyes.

Looking closer, Zim could see that the glow of his eyes was concentrated on the front part, the only part that is visible with Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic. The other half was encased in metal, connected to his organic parts with wires.

It was fascinating actually, seeing the mucosal tissues of a human. There was so much pink, pink like the lifeblood that flows through every Irken’s veins. His tongue was resting on top of his lower jaw, it was weird seeing it disappear as it nears the throat, going down the oesophagus.

Zim could also see a marriage between the organic and mechanic, as metallic parts are there to support and cover some of the exposed meat. Where there should be the nasal passage, was an artificial tube.

The edges featured tiny magnets, probably to hold Professor Membrane’s faceplate. Zim has seen much in his lifetime. He’s seen how cybernetics could replace almost anything but it was always visible if something is unnatural. Yet, Professor Membrane’s face, or at least his prosthetic, was good enough to fool Zim.

It was better than a hologram, that only mimics and changes appearances visually. It was something turned physical. Zim should feel disgusted, but instead he was more amazing than Zim could ever imagine.

The Professor’s technology was even more intertwined with his biology than Irken technology is with Irken bodies. While almost everything is genetically enhanced or modified, the mechanical aspect of Irken’s only constitutes their Pak, which is located outside of their bodies, attached to their spine.

“Love, speak. Do I scare you?” When he talked, his voice projected out from his throat. He had a voice box implanted. His tongue and lower jaw aren’t enough to make the appropriate vocalizations.

It was at that moment that Professor Membrane tried to cover up his gruesome anatomy with his faceplate but Zim stopped him. Before he could attach his face back on, Zim snatched his prosthetic.

Zim says in a low tone, or as low as he could try, he still sounds loud.

“No, you don’t scare me. Your current appearance doesn’t even disgust me. Instead, you intrigue me. I’ve never seen a human like you before.”

“In fact! Everyone else is disgusting compared to you.” He said louder, almost giddy-like.

“You’re brilliant! A genius worthy of Zim even! You merge technology so wonderfully, I want to see more!” There was audible excitement when Zim spoke.

“Zim, you don’t have to attack me with compliments. Is that really what you think?” Professor Membrane whispers, it’s hard to talk without his prosthetic. He uses a voice box but the movement of his artificial lip over his real lip was enough to make him believe that he is producing sound the natural way. It hurts.

Zim is studying the face prosthetic Professor Membrane designed. It was animatronic. The movement was controlled with nanotubes and circuitry connecting to small motors. If Zim wasn’t concerned about offending Professor Membrane, he’d rush to his underground labs to study it.

He feels a surge of affection, this is his human, no one else’s but Zim’s. Even other aliens don’t compare to his partner. Some were even too stupid to be alive, but somehow they live.

“Don’t be foolish, foolishness doesn’t suit you. You know that I adore you.” Never has Zim uttered something so soft before.

“I love you for your mind,” he kisses his lover’s forehead, “your strength,” he kisses his lover’s robo arms, “your height,” he kisses the hair scythe, “and everything else about you.” he leaves a big kiss on Professor Membrane’s prosthetic and Professor Membrane’s lower jaw.

Professor Membrane was stunned, his lower jaw dropped down and his electronic eyes emitted an even brighter glow. Zim hands Professor Membrane the prosthetic.

“Now cover up your holes before the germs invade you. I will not be having my lover be sick due to some pathetic Earth virus.” Zim looks at his lover. If he could, he would kiss the Professor’s soul, so only Zim would remain in the scientist’s heart.

Professor Membrane, places his face plate on with a ‘click.’ He lifts Zim up in his arms as he stands from his kneeling position. Zim shrieked as his feet lost contact with the ground.

“I was right to love you, Zim!” The Professor was gleeful.

“You’d be stupid if you rejected me.” Zim’s smugness at being loved reached an all-time high.

Professor Membrane twirled Zim above his head and hugged him close.

“You remember how I said that I never showed this to my children?” Professor Membrane hummed into Zim’s wig.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell them.” The Professor begged. His request surprised Zim.

“The Dib really doesn’t know? Wonderful! You have nothing to fear! I’ll keep your secret. You must really love Zim then!” Zim laughed maniacally.

Zim was so euphoric, his legs were moving back and forth.

“I’m glad I showed this side of mine to you. I like to imagine that, if I had an actual face, it would look similar to my prosthetic.” The current richest inventor and researcher on Earth sounded defeated.

The feeling returned. The feeling called guilt. Here he is, in the arms of his lover. His lover who doesn’t even know that Zim is from an entirely different race, sent to conquer his beloved Earth. It was a heavy feeling.

Is Zim actually empathizing with this human? He feels wrong, dirty, for taking advantage of someone like Professor Membrane. It was like he was spitting at the Professor’s intelligence.

There is no turning back from this relationship. At least, no way of turning back on his love. If Zim were to break things off, or just disappear, he’d end up with a broken heart. He still doesn’t know why it would hurt but just the thought makes his squeedilyspooch twist in angst.

He wants to continue whatever this is. He wants to feel light, feel acknowledged, feel loved. But if this really were mutual, then Zim would have to reveal his Irken self and be exposed as the enemy he is.

The Professor is still holding Zim up. He seemed content having Zim in his arms. Cuddling and nuzzling him. This is a comfort unmatched by any other.

Zim doesn’t want this to end, he’s ruined almost everything else good in his life. The Tallest haven’t contacted him in ages and the Massive and Irken fleets still remain missing. It’s lonely being the only Irken on Earth. Every other Irken is fleeing from the colonies they’ve conquered.

If Zim were to meet his demise, then he wouldn’t mind it being at the hands of his love, his equal. He breaks out of his lover’s grasp. He knows what to do.

“With all these secrets we’re sharing with each other, I believe that it is only fair for you to cast your eyes on my amazing self!” Zim acts confident, he can do confident, he can be cocky about his real looks. After all, he is handsome in all ways except height.

“Yes Zim, you are an amazing specimen.” The Professor looks at Zim fondly.

“You don’t get it! Focus more on my actual features. I know this disguise is amazing but you, as Zim’s equal should be able to tell where I differ from the rest!” Zim said angrily.

“Ok? Well, you have no visible nose or ears, you’re green and you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His eyebrow lifted up in confusion as he spoke.

“Yes, yes I know my attractiveness is intimidating. But do you think I’m too attractive? Out of this world even?” Zim expects him to say the truth. The full truth. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be the one to confess things.

“You’re the only I know who looks like you.” Professor Membrane doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? The Dib always accuses me of being an alien.” Zim is stalling. He hopes that the Professor will find out on his own, so Zim wouldn’t have to admit it.

“I know my son is a handful, I’ll tell him to be more considerate of your skin condition.” The Professor said, exasperatingly, he doesn’t know what to do about his son.

If Professor Membrane thinks that that is what Zim is asking for then he really needs to join a reading the atmosphere class. Professor Membrane can be really blind at times.

“NO! The Dib-beast is right! I’m an alien! I’ve always been an alien. I come from the planet Irk. What you saw a few months earlier was real.” Zim said it. He can’t wait for Professor Membrane to find out his identity, it might take decades.

He takes off his contacts, his wig, and his goatee and threw them to the ground.

“I’m the alien you fought that day!” Zim points to himself.

“Look at my pink solid eyes, look at these antenna. Don’t you think I’m an alien?” He becomes more frustrated as he pointed out each strange thing about himself.

“Oh Zim, don’t worry about your appearance, I’ll always find you attractive. Your eyes are lovely by the way. You don’t have to call yourself an alien.” Professor Membrane still refuses to see what’s right in front of him.

Zim tugs off his gloves and boots.

“I have three fingers! I have two toes! Is it getting into your brain yet? I’m an alien.” Does the Professor want Zim to degrade himself further? Should he perform a little song and dance to the tune of the Irken Empires anthem?

“Those things could be congenital defects. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with me to share your insecurities.” Professor Membrane’s attempts at being understanding are pathetic.

“Unless, you’re doing this because you hope to scare me off?” His voice takes on a worried tone, completely unwarranted in Zim’s opinion.

“You stupid, dumb, idiotic human!” Zim screams out.

Zim removes his shirt. He never intended to turn this into a sort of striptease, a term he learnt from a drunk guy who decided to ‘put on a show’ for more booze monies. Zim is glad that Gir dunked him in molten butter and popcorn because that display really disgusted him.

He drags the Professor down to have a seat on the floor and positions his Pak towards Professor Membrane. He also extends one of his spider legs. Hopefully, this will be enough to convince him of his extraterrestrial origins.

“Look at my Pak! Touch it with your robo hands! What you’re looking at is high quality Irken technology.” Zim is tired.

Professor Membrane is transfixed. He’s never seen something like this before. The Pak wasn’t stuck on superficially, it actually goes into Zim’s back. Studying it for a while, he realizes that it’s not made from materials found on Earth and it’s more advanced than anything he knows, something that shouldn’t be possible.

“I am a member of the Irken race. An intergalactic race who’s currently trying to take over the universe. I am an invader brought to Earth to take it over for Operation Doom II.

We modified ourselves biomechanically to be the ultimate species. The Pak you’re studying right now is where the entirety of Irken history and knowledge is contained. It is better than your human brains and computers. It holds my personality, my tools and my intelligence.” Zim explains.

“It holds all that information? You know the entire history of your race?” Asked an astonished Membrane.

“Several thousands of years of knowledge and more, regarding some other races and planets.” Zim didn’t think that Professor Membrane would focus on that, he thought he’d be held up on this conquering Earth thing he spewed out.

“Can you take up more information in your Pak?” The inquiries were calm, rational. As if Professor Membrane was doing a survey.

“Our Paks were designed to hold at least 1 billion years of storage.” That is a fact that still makes Zim proud of being an Irken, not many races can brag about having so much storage space.

In the scheme of things, 1 billion years is nothing compared to the expected lifespan of the universe, but it is more than enough for effervescent species like humans and Irkens.

Professor Membrane does the unexpected once again, he hugged Zim fiercely, ecstatically. Zim looked behind him, the stoicism of his prosthetic is nowhere to be found, an absurdly large grin was present on his face.

Was this a trap? His grin reminded Zim of the times Dib would smile before doing something horrible to Zim or before promising to do something horrible. That manic glint in Professor Membrane’s cyber eyes was heightened with the rapid closing and opening of his shutters, like a camera taking pictures.

Zim expected shock, Zim expected denial, Zim expected hatred or even understanding if things were more positive. But this elated expression on his lover’s face was something Zim did not expect. It was like he actually got the twelve cases of Uranium-38 from Santa on Christmas.

“Thank you Zim, I believe you. Without you I would’ve never had this chance.” Professor Membrane finally spoke out.

“What?” Zim asked.

“You’re amazing, Zim. Special. I’ll never regret meeting you.” The Professor was stroking his antenna in an overly possessive manner. This aggressive petting was something Professor Membrane never did. If Zim had any sensation on his one special, not defective, antenna, he’d be blushing from head to toe.

This really makes Zim wonder if Professor Membrane is planning to study his insides and dump him in a laboratory to be studied. But this time, Zim is prepared. He’ll face all sorts of tests, as long as he can stay by the Professor’s side.

This sort of devotion was only ever reserved for the Tallest though but they’re gone, possibly forever and the only leader Zim wants to have is Professor Membrane.

“Love-pig, I give you permission to use my body in whatever way you want.”

Zim accepted his fate, he willingly gives himself up for experimentation. He tries to break free from Professor Membrane’s vice grip to face him. It’s hard to have this discussion with his back against Professor Membrane’s chest.

The Professor paused his ministrations. Zim feels a sudden spike in Professor Membrane’s heartbeat and temperature.

“Zim, what do you think I’ll be doing with you?” The Professor is bashful. He doesn’t want any more misunderstandings between them.

“Aren’t you going to strap me on a table and use your various tools on me?” Zim was puzzled.

Professor Membrane still looks at Zim confusedly.

“I’ll let you cut me up but I’ll tell you where it’s safe to cut open because I still enjoy living and I expect to remain alive in your care until you can’t learn anything more from me. But don’t think it’ll be a short study! I am much more knowledgeable than you. I know more… knowledge!! than you. Things you humans can’t even begin to imagine!” He made his peace.

“Oh. NO! No Zim. I would never experiment on you like that!”

Professor Membrane’s outcry was unexpected.

“You’re more than anything I could ever dream of. You’re the answer to my loneliness.”

Was that it? Was Professor Membrane simply impressed with Zim’s true self? Was he in awe of Zim? The Professor might have reacted the same way if he met any other Irkens but it doesn’t matter to Zim. It is Zim Professor Membrane is reacting to, and not anyone else.

“Yup! Zim is the best! Too bad you’re a pitiful human and not a superior Irken.” Zim is back to his confident self.

“Let me apologize Zim. Please forgive me. I know you told me to trust you, but I haven’t been completely truthful.”

The Professor shrinks into himself, he’s ashamed.

Zim is more surprised. What else could Professor Membrane be hiding? Is it something on his body? While Zim was shirtless, gloveless and bootless, Professor Membrane still has his full coat on, only with the upper part undone. It’s not fair.

“I guess I should reveal my full self as well.”

He removes his face plate again, but instead of seeing the insides of a human head, there’s a hole. A black hole. Dark in colour. Not even his eyes remained.

Zim looks in. He sees everything and nothing, he sees the beginning and the end of humanity. He’s experiencing bliss but agony as well. There is so much information being downloaded in Zim’s Pak that it’s whirring frantically, trying to compile and organize everything. It was a sight he’s never seen before. He doesn’t even know what he’s looking at to be honest.

It’s addicting. He watches the smooth black void swirl with light splotches of what appears to be stars. There are nuclear fissions happening. It was like Professor Membrane contained a small galaxy on his face, with a black hole as its centre.

If Zim were sane he’d have lost his sanity but all he could feel is delight instead of horror. His scientific side is curious, he wants to know what, why, how it’s even possible.

Zim knows he should feel terrified. He’s dealing with something other, something inhuman. Professor Membrane is no ordinary being. He is like one of those Lovecraftian gods that humans make fiction of.

“Can I touch it?” He can’t call it a face, it held too much to be a face.

“Yes, but be careful,” Professor Membrane’s voice emitted from the void.

Zim briefly wonders what happened to the modifications Professor Membrane made. He hopes they’re not gone forever, it’s another part of his lover that Zim has learnt to cherish already.

Zim reaches for Professor Membrane’s actual ‘face,’ his hand gets sucked in. Terror filled Zim as he struggles. He’s afraid he’s being sucked in to be consumed by the void. Maybe Professor Membrane will consume him after all?

Before he can be pulled towards the centre of the hole, arms surround him and he is being held in place. Today is not the day Zim dies.

“Zim! I told you to be careful!” that voice appeared again. The voice of Zim’s daydreams and fantasies. Professor Membrane is still with him. Zim forgot for a moment.

“Hah! Don’t be silly my love! Nothing can beat the Almighty Zim!!!” He’s come down from whatever kept his mind in the clouds.

While being fastened by Professor Membrane, Zim decides to reach his arm out. Self-perseverance is a trait that Zim possesses but sometimes, he just wants to act out his impulses.

He feels something squishy and wet. Zim grabbed whatever that was. When he retracted his hand, he discovers that he’s holding onto a baby octopus. He puts it back in to grab something else. A teacup filled with hot tea. Typical. This time he doesn’t put his hand back in, giving the tea to Professor Membrane.

“What’s all that inside you?” Zim asks, he shrugs off the weirdness, it’s an ordinary Tuesday for him. A turbulent Tuesday but still a Tuesday.

“The combined knowledge of mankind.” It’s uncanny hearing Professor Membrane’s voice.

“What are you anyways?” If his lover isn’t a human, then Zim could gleefully continue their relationship without feeling too much guilt.

“I still like to consider myself as a human.” That dashes Zim’s hopes but considering Professor Membrane’s credentials, he’s still proud of being able to call himself Professor Membrane’s lover.

“But a human who’s been in existence as long as mankind has been. I don’t remember my origin, if I were to imagine myself as a child, it would be how I currently am, only smaller.” It was hard for Professor Membrane to admit that he’s forgotten important parts of himself.

“Irkens are only alive for a millennia of your human time.” It hurts Zim to realize this.

He always expected that he’d outlive his partner when the time comes but it might actually be the other way around. He doesn’t want to think more on it. He wants to move away from that topic.

“Is Professor your real name?” Zim has found out that Professor is a title, like Frylord or Invader or even Tallest is. So he was confused when looking at Professor Membrane’s documents to see that Professor is written as his first name.

“I’ve been called many things throughout my existence but the name that sticks out the most is Thoth.” Professor Membrane reflects back. That was something he can remember.

“Anyways, I want to discover more and your existence made me realize that mankind has restrained my full potential.” The Professor said.

Delight fills Zim. Is Professor Membrane willing to turn his back on humanity?

“With you telling me about your extraterrestrial origin, I was able to find proof of the existence of life in other worlds. The probability always existed but I never had any concrete evidence.

And the knowledge humans collected on space is so insufficient that they don’t really tell anything. Other information, like what Dib usually talks about, can be easily considered as hoaxes, quick to exit the minds of the populace.” He continued saying.

Every dismayed admittance of the inadequacy of humans and their discoveries makes Zim happier and happier.

“There are still many things to discover, that’s why I became a scientist, mankind’s knowledge is limited and information found can easily be lost forever.” Professor Membrane concluded his little speech.

Humans really are pitiful. Zim wished he could have landed on Earth ages ago, to forge a path for faster development. Hmm. Maybe he should consider doing it now, with Professor Membrane by his side.

“You’re not keeping anymore secrets from me are you?” To count, Zim has been shocked an entirety of three times in the span of this date. He checked the time with his Pak. Two and half hours have passed. This makes for a surprise every 50 minutes.

“No more secrets, my love.” Professor Membrane places his prosthetic back on his face. Zim sees the moment the void disappears and dissipates to turn back into the fleshy opening.

“We both showed our true faces to each other.” Zim said. His trust in the Professor is absolute. They’ll never have to hide themselves ever again in each other’s presence.

“We did. I’m glad we did. Thank you Zim.” The voice came out of Professor Membrane’s mouth, where voices are supposed to come out from.

Inspecting Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic, Zim acknowledges that he loves all of Professor Membrane’s faces. His kissable lips opened to say something. Zim wants to punch himself for thinking that way.

“You’re the only one to survive seeing my true self. Everyone else died from brain hemorrhaging or lost their minds to never recover.” He said nonchalantly.

“Good! Give Zim all the praise!” Zim takes any chance he can get to be praised. “And all the kisses!! Those were nice.” Professor Membrane delivers a quick peck on the lips.

“You deserve all the kisses from me,” Professor Membrane agrees, “I had a wonderful date.”

A realization hit Zim. Date night still didn’t end. And when date night continued after dinner, it usually meant that they would be spending time tinkering and working on one thing or another.

“Let’s work on making your prosthetic move smoother. I have just the right Irken tech to show you in my other working area. You’ll love it.

I modified it of course to make it less stupid but it should give you a fully functional ugly human face with feelings. It’ll hide your beautiful insides unfortunately but that’s living on Earth for people like us.” Zim rambled on, already thinking up of different things to do.

“Does it look anything like your disguise?” Professor Membrane loves Zim but a fake goatee, a wig and contacts don’t make for a good disguise, he confessed to himself.

Oh dear. Dib was right. Zim’s disguise was bad. Dib was also right about Zim being an alien. Professor Membrane promises to himself that he’ll believe his son more from now on.

“What? Unfortunately no! All the other disguises hid way too much of my handsomeness and it would be a disservice to everyone for me to hide it!”

Zim went on a tirade, “The Earth will be even more MORE sadder and uglier if I looked exactly like you humans. Gross. Be happy you get to see my full handsomeness in my true Irken self. There are many who don’t get the opportunity that you have.”

Zim gestures to himself. He’s still half-dressed. Professor Membrane hands Zim the rest of his outfit before things turn awkward. After dressing quickly, Zim once more is leading Professor Membrane by the hands into his labs, the cooler ones with all the alien tech.

‘Zim, never change, my lover from the stars.’ Professor Membrane thinks to himself fondly, as he is being led away. His various faces may not allow for much expression but he is smiling internally, full of love.

[ariannjs]

KARIN | A SasuSaku FanFic (7/10)

(Karin - Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6)

--------

“To knock or not to knock?”

For the first time since the past few weeks, Karin stood in front of Sakura’s office with the fear of having her entire being turning into shattered pieces. She swore she didn’t want to be a part of the pink-haired woman’s casualties after witnessing her capability of producing broken fragments of various sizes through just one of her fists during the war. Cringing at the possibility, she backed away from the door and paced back and forth once again in the hallway.

It wasn’t that Sakura had reasons to attack her; she just really didn’t want to hit a nerve for she knew how utterly preoccupied the head medic was with a project recently. All that she wanted while they were temporarily residing in Konoha was to be a great help, not a nuisance, but something about her current assignment made her decide to appeal to her senpai (she would never let anyone know that that’s how she saw Sakura now) for a relocation of some sort.

Working under Sakura’s care in the hospital was at first, nerve-wracking for Karin as she observed every detail of the head medic’s responsibilities, but eventually, it turned out to be stimulating. It was as if she finally found her purpose for this season which helped in veering her away from the tendencies of postpartum depression.

It took her a month before fully recuperating from her high-risk labor with Suika. But after getting the clearance from Sakura that she was already fit to work, she was offered the job to assist in the hospital since she is also adept in medical ninjutsu. Much to Sakura’s surprise, the redhead suddenly threw her arms around her while tearing up after receiving the part-time position (though Karin insisted that it was only due to the post-pregnancy hormones).

That’s when their dynamics started to change. Suigetsu accompanied Sasuke on daily missions and Karin assisted Sakura in the hospital in any way possible while their daughter stayed in the hospital’s nursery.

A part of her was happy that she could help her husband in earning for their small family while they were still in Konoha, but a major part of her was undeniably ecstatic about the fact that she’d finally be useful to people other than Orochimaru. Taking care of hideouts and some experiments (which were gladly not humans anymore) wasn’t something that you could find fulfilment from so she couldn’t help but feel grateful to Sakura for seeing potential in her despite being a former criminal and a foreigner to the village.

That day, she firmly announced that Sakura Haruno and Sasuke Uchiha were officially Suika’s godparents. And nope, they couldn’t say no. Sakura giggled and felt honored, while Sasuke only “Hn”-ed (but she knew that was better than nothing).

So now, it was a little troubling for her to enter the den of her daughter’s godmother. She felt like it could break their flourishing friendship if she ended up getting under the head medic’s skin.

Karin stopped once again right in front of the same door with a hand on her hip and then voiced out her thoughts, “To knock or not to kn—?”

“You could just come in, Karin.”

“E-eh?!”

She heard a long sigh. Biting her lip as she slowly came in, her assumptions were proven correct when she saw Sakura immersed in mixing various chemicals on a makeshift lab in her office with a procedure mask that covered half of her serious face.

There were a few beats of silence as she stared at her senpai in awe. She has never seen someone as dedicated as her in the medical field and it made her desire to strive even harder to be like even just half of who Sakura was.

“What’s up?” Sakura asked without removing her gaze on the purple liquid she was transporting to another vial.

Karin gulped. “Well, Sakura, uh…”

“If it’s for another relocation, I don’t think I could give you that.”

“But...but Sakura!” She almost whined as she paced closer to the pink-haired maiden. “You assigned me to the East Wing where there’s a kid who calls me names and doesn’t even believe me that she could be healed faster once she bites me! Sakura, I’m telling you, that kid’s going to be the death of me!”

Sakura stifled a laugh. “You said the same thing the other day about the old woman whose room is at the North Wing, though.”

Grumbling, Karin crossed her arms on her chest, careful to put much pressure there since it was still vulnerable due to the effects of post-pregnancy. “Then just assign me to the West Wing.”

“Don’t you think it’s practice in dealing with Suika? That kid, I mean. Suika could be like that for all we know. Or Sui. You once mentioned that Sui’s a handful.” This time, Sakura released a chuckle.

Karin gripped her hair with both hands, clearly not amused. Can’t this doctor understand that there are patients who aren’t likeable – scratch that, bearable – at all? “Please, just today, perhaps? Or until that kid is out of the hospital.”

“Out of the hospital.”

“Yes.”

Sakura frowned as she finally looked at her subordinate. She gave Karin a sympathetic look, yet one that wasn’t meant for her. “But Saichi and Granny Riyo would stay here for a longer time, Karin.”

“Oh.” She blinked twice, astounded with the fact that despite having hundreds of patients in the hospital, Sakura knew the names of the patients and where they were staying. It wasn’t the first time that she mentioned some patients’ names as if they were close friends or relatives. And that look? Karin wasn’t used to seeing something as genuine like that.

“I hope you could extend more patience to them. And really, I understand how some patients dislike or disrespect us. But you have to show them compassion still.” Sakura cocked her head to one side with a smile behind her mask that reached her eyes. “You might be the only friend they could meet while they’re here. So please give them a chance. Don’t give up on them.”

Karin once again stared at her in wonder. The longer she got to know Sakura, the more she realized how great of a woman she is. And then, her lips then slightly twitched upwards as a certain man entered her mind. I’m glad I’ve learned to let go of him. He’ll never find a woman like Sakura. She’s totally the best one for him.

She then huffed, resigned but still tough in pretense. “Fine, then. I’ll try. But if it doesn’t work out this week, I’d request for a transfer next week.”

“Alright, we’ll see.” Sakura cackled and returned to her task, her smile not faltering as she inspected the vial in her hand. “I’m sure you’ll do well. You have unique abilities, Karin. And I’m also pretty sure they’ll appreciate that as they learn to like you after quite some time.”

Karin’s heart fluttered at that, not expecting the compliment and motivation.

For a moment, a desire to work in Konoha Hospital forever was born inside her, but it could only be a fleeting dream since she would have a new home in a different village with her husband soon. And if they’d still assist Orochimaru in one way or another, they surely wouldn’t be within the borders of Konoha anymore. It was surprising to her how she even considered such a desire.

Yet, she couldn’t deny how temporarily staying in this foreign place has made her feel a belongingness that someone like her shouldn’t even experience, and a level of significance beyond being a mere tool for a certain mission’s accomplishment. When Sakura offered her to be one of their medics, it occurred to her that she still has a value, not only to Suigetsu and Suika, but also to many others, including her now senpai and her former leader in Taka.

“T-thank you, Sakura,” she muttered before she exited the head medic’s office.

A smile appeared on her lips as she stared at the now familiar walls of the place where she had given birth. Who knew what could’ve happened if Sasuke didn’t bring her to Konoha and if it wasn’t Sakura who helped her deliver her baby?

She promised to herself that one day, she would do anything in her willpower to repay those two for everything they’ve done for her and her little family. And for a fraction of a second, she smirked as an idea of a specific possible way to repay them flashed in her mind. These two better move fast or we’ll never get to that though.

“So how was it?” Sakura asked by the end of the week while they were pacing towards the hospital’s front doors after their shift for the day. “I hope your patients didn’t antagonize you or anything anymore.” She giggled.

Karin almost rolled her eyes as she adjusted Suika’s position in her arms. “Well, it actually – thankfully – didn’t reach that point.”

To her surprise, Saichi, the patient that Karin disliked with her entire being, became unnaturally cooperative on her next visits. Originally, the kid has an even worse attitude than what Sasuke had during their Team Taka days. But miraculously, albeit reluctantly, she finally agreed to bite Karin’s skin to quicken the improvement of her condition. Karin smirked victoriously at that.

“Really?” The head medic grinned, delighted and not really astonished with the news.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad, then. Great job, Karin!”

And then Karin’s lips twisted to a smile at the realization that Sakura was right for believing in her. It made her more excited than ever to visit her patients and try to get along with them on the next few days knowing that someone trusted her enough to handle things. All thanks to the woman beside her.

“Oh, they’re here!”

Karin whipped her head in the direction that Sakura was pointing. And true enough, two men were standing right outside the double doors of Konoha General Hospital. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the white-haired man that stole her heart. Moments later, she was already beside him, passing their sleeping daughter to him while shifting her gaze to the other people with them.

Pushing her eyeglasses upwards, she bit her lip to suppress a grin from appearing on her face.

There was no more mark of stress on Sakura’s features as she stood in front of Taka’s former team leader. It was almost envious how the head medic could have that sudden glow on her face despite her intense workload in the lab hours ago.

And then there’s Sasuke, whom Karin didn’t even bother to greet. After all, his attention was wholly fixated to her senpai since the moment they stepped out of the hospital, mismatched eyes locked on emerald ones as if the rest of the world came to a blur.

While they were in Taka, she wouldn’t have imagined seeing such a small genuine smile on his too beautiful face. But now, her dream of seeing him smile once again finally came true, and she now knew the only reason – person – that could make that happen. Her lips soon formed a beam upon the realization.

Until she heard a familiar voice that suddenly became too deep.

“Karin Hozuki.” There was a weird emphasis on her surname that made her flinch. “What the hell are you staring at? Don’t tell me you’ve rekindled your feelings for your former—”

“Stop being ridiculous.” She snorted, turning her head to her husband whose purple eyes were narrowed directly at her. That look was something she knew full well, and she almost laughed boisterously at how adorable it was to see it again.

Suigetsu huffed and rocked Suika in his arms when the little bundle began to move a bit. His wife, however, returned her gaze to Sasuke. “Seriously, Karin, you are married.”

This time, Karin released a cackle. “I didn’t say that I’m not.”

Glaring, Suigetsu waited until Karin turned to look at him again. “Then why are you ogling at Sasuke like you’re gonna eat him alive?” He hissed.

“What?” She slapped him lightly in his arm with a mischievous grin. He suspected it would’ve been harder if only he wasn’t holding their daughter. “I’m not ogling at Sasuke! But look! Can’t you see how happy they actually are?”

Suigetsu then glanced at the subject of their conversation, who was still gazing at Sakura for who knew how long, and then he furrowed his brows.

He found it totally normal.

Then Karin groaned in disbelief. “Sharkface, you’re too slow as always!”

It was only recently that he started to notice something entirely different.

The Sasuke he used to know was someone who was rather impulsive yet focused on his chosen path, which always consisted of battles upon battles, and anything that would allow him to gain more power.

It’s always been like that, Suigetsu figured. Because he understood how having no family to go home to and spend time with – thirst for revenge and madman declaration of a village’s destruction aside –  could make you want to immerse yourself in nothing else but the usual life of a shinobi. For a time, Suigetsu could relate to that, although it was a mere trace of the past for him now due to the presence of Karin and Suika in his life.

But for Sasuke, he wondered what happened. He knew the Uchiha survivor had just returned from a journey of redemption, but he believed there was no drastic change in his life yet other than being a newly reinstated Konoha shinobi with a credibility to polish in the eyes of the other nations, a fighter and defender without any time for trivial things above all else.

That’s why Suigetsu couldn’t put a finger on his observations with his former leader. Recently, Sasuke would always go for any method that would make their mission quick, and any direction that would make going back to Konoha – like he never hated the place and its people at least once – a lot faster.

As if there was something more important to the former avenger than the missions he had been doing.

He was glad, however, that it would result to him returning to his wife and daughter immediately. But what didn’t make sense to him was how Sasuke oftentimes became slightly hotheaded whenever they didn’t get to accomplish their missions until almost dinner time.

Like today.

Their trip home from Ame became much longer than necessary due to the group of bandits that suddenly decided to attack them. Vaguely aware of the increasing irritation of his partner, Suigetsu took his time in trapping some of the bandits into his water jutsu before binding their hands behind them and giving them a talk-no-jutsu like how he witnessed Sasuke doing it to some of their random enemies lately.

But then, he heard Sasuke huff. “Make it quick, Suigetsu. It would take us a little longer to report these men to the local authorities.”

“Easy, Sasuke.” He snickered. “It’s not like it’s the end of the world,” he replied while tightening the rope around the wrists of his last opponent, only to receive an intense glare from the Uchiha.

“Let’s go,” Sasuke growled.

And Suigetsu immediately followed suit, not wanting to have a sudden meet and greet with the Susanoo.

The rest of the travel back to Konoha was rather silent. There was visible tension on Sasuke’s shoulders as he kept on glancing at the sky, probably to estimate the time based on the fleeting presence of the sun. All the while, Suigetsu was keeping up with the swiftness of his movements.

By the time they reached the now familiar gates of Konoha, he heard him sigh, probably in relief; on the other hand, Suigetsu panted in exhaustion, with his legs feeling jelly as if he sprinted alongside a horse and not a human.

He glared at his mission partner. “Wait up, Sasuke!” What’s up with Uchihas and their speed?! He almost yelled at him as his one hand fell on his knees while the other rummaged through his backpack to get his water bottle.

Sasuke gave a blank stare to the water ninja and merely said, “We better hurry in sending this mission report to Kakashi.”

“You’ve been in a hurry the entire day.” Suigetsu rolled his eyes, apparently aggravated with this absurd version of Sasuke.

It’s not like the Hokage has a daily timer for shinobis’ missions, right?

But if anything, he didn’t want to resolve to attempted murder any time soon. After all, he owed this changed man the life of his wife and his daughter, and the fact that he has a temporary source of income despite the apparent tinge of mistrust on the faces of the other shinobi in the village.

He then sighed in resignation. He might not fully understand Sasuke and his ways, but he would always have some sort of reverence and appreciation for him.

“Do you have a date or something?” He suddenly quipped, but Sasuke quickly turned away from him and started striding towards the Hokage Tower. “Oi! You really can’t wait, huh?”

“I don’t know how Suika would survive having you and Karin as her parents. You’re both a loudmouth.”

“Heh. At least I got myself a good wife. Thanks for rejecting her all the time back then, by the way.”

He didn’t receive a reply after that, and for a moment, he wondered, will Sasuke eventually have the opportunity of having a family again? Or will he remain a wanderer?

Suigetsu used to think that it would never be possible for someone as infamous as him to find love and build a future anymore. But when he witnessed Sasuke’s drive to have a new life, he had seen a glint of hope. It just so happened that he kind of sped past Sasuke in having his own family, to which he smirked. Although he kind of wished Sasuke would arrive to that point any time soon.

It might not seem like it, and he wouldn’t desire to show it, but somewhere at the back of Suigetsu’s mind, he deeply hoped for all the best for his former leader too because he knew that he deserved it after all that he’s been through.

“Thanks, Sasuke and Suigetsu. Well done,” the Sixth Hokage mentioned after they relayed their mission update.

Suigetsu could only shake his head when Sasuke was already at the door once more before the Hokage could even talk more.

“We’ll go now. We still have to pick up—”

“Wait a second, Sasuke,” but Kakashi called out.

Suigetsu’s gaze transferred from the scowling Sasuke to the stern Hokage, confused with whom he should follow. But as a sign of respect to the highest authority in the village, he moved a bit closer to Kakashi, making his partner reluctantly do the same.

“What’s the matter?” Sasuke asked with a grimace.

Kakashi didn’t seem to mind, probably due to the fact that he knew the Uchiha – both his powerful and stubborn side – full well. He then dug through a pile of papers on his desk while explaining to them something that made Sasuke’s shoulders slump in what Suigetsu assumed was shock and disappointment.

Despite this, after few more instructions and recommendations, he found him agreeing with gritted teeth to the Hokage.

“Let’s go, Suigetsu.” And then Sasuke bolted towards the door.

Giving a quick bow to the Hokage, the water ninja immediately followed suit and stared at Sasuke’s back in puzzlement with only one thing in his mind:

Since when did the former avenger dread missions?

He didn’t even bother voicing out the query anymore, because with the way Sasuke darted across the street with his single arm gripping the sword hanging on his waist tightly, he wouldn’t even be surprised if their surroundings would turn into sliced fixtures and black flames.

Thankfully, he reached the hospital and came home to his small family unscathed. He barely noticed the Uchiha the moment Karin approached him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Welcome back, Sharkface. You’re just in time,” his wife said as he caressed the tiny head of the baby girl in her arms. “How was your mission?”

“Easy. Sasuke almost got on my nerves, though.”

Karin chuckled. “Ha. Are you sure it wasn’t the other way around?”

Suigetsu only rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze to the subject of their conversation. However, he was stunned with what he witnessed.

Where was the Sasuke he was with a few moments ago?

He almost wanted to look around, because this Sasuke a few meters away from them was now completely relaxed…at the sight of Sakura.

And then he overheard his soft voice that was totally contrasting to the one he has heard all day, saying, “Have you eaten dinner?”

Suigetsu’s eyes widened. That’s when it all clicked. As he stared at his former leader and recalled a few instances that he merely brushed off, it finally made sense to him...

How Sasuke momentarily – discreetly – halted on his tracks whenever he caught sight of a Sakura tree during their travels with Taka, before squaring his shoulders and walking again as if nothing happened.

How he couldn’t even give more than half a second of a glance to any other woman who audaciously threw themselves at him back then, including Karin.

How he visited the hospital daily when Karin and Suika were still confined although he didn’t pay much attention to them despite them being the patients.

How he still chose to join him in picking up his wife and daughter after their missions, only to go in their separate ways afterwards – the Hozuki family to their apartment, then Sasuke and Sakura to who knows where.

And how he valued the ticking of the clock just so they’d be able to return to the village by dinner time every single day.

Have you eaten dinner? The question rang in his head again.

“Now you get it, huh?” He suddenly heard his wife who was smirking at him.

Suigetsu shut his eyes and shook his head at the realization, his lips forming a small smile. Despite how annoying Sasuke was becoming recently, he now understood where he was coming from. His heart swelled with genuine excitement for he knew that this change in the former avenger was a positive one. Besides, based from experience, ever since Suigetsu learned that he’s in love with Karin, all he ever wanted was to become the better version of himself in preparation for their future together.

Surely, Sasuke’s on board to that same journey by now.

He then cackled and scratched the back of his head. “You’re right, Four-eyes. I guess I’m slow indeed.”

Never in his wildest dreams has he ever imagined seeing such a smitten Sasuke Uchiha.

———

(Karin - Part 8) 

———

Hey guys! It’s been a while. It’s a tad difficult juggling everything that’s going on with my work, personal life, plus writing. But here ya go! This story always surprises me, but I’m glad with how it’s turning out. We’re down to three more chapters before its end! What do you think about it so far? :D

Check out my other works here! :) Thanks & God bless!

[qqueenofhades]

and darlin’, like the stars, we fell

in honor of the “we’ll find out who what went down between flynn and lucy in his bedroom” (literally, there are SO MANY LESS SUGGESTIVE WAYS TO PUT THAT) tease, the other tease that some fanfic writers totally nailed a plot point, and the fact that one can only read so much GARCY IS TOTALLY PLATONIC FAMILIAL PLATONIC NON-ROMANTIC FRIENDSHIP SIBLINGS!! before one gets slightly... let’s just say... petty.

as ever, for @extasiswings, @prairiepirate, and @lucys-preston.

rated explicit.

The level in the vodka bottle has dipped well below the neck, but not quite to half, by the time Lucy decides that’s enough for tonight, she should put it away. She’s not drunk, but she’s certainly a little buzzed, and Flynn – well, he’s a six-foot-four man who was born and raised in Eastern Europe, one and a half glasses of vodka aren’t even going to make him giggly. (If it wasn’t for earlier, getting back from the jam sesh with Robert Johnson, an unbelievably rare chance to simply sit and enjoy a magical moment in history without having to fight to save it, she wouldn’t even know it was possible.) They’ve talked on and off for close to two hours now – more bits about their missing girls, a few funny stories, summoning the ghosts of their lost ones up to join them for just a little while. Lucy knows that Iris’ first word (after no!) was a curse in Russian, which Flynn must have said a little too often trying to catch up with her, and which made Lorena sternly order him that he had to wait until she was older to teach her more. Flynn knows about that summer that Lucy and Amy spent road-tripping around the Southwest, and that really horrible hotel they stayed in at the Grand Canyon. Listens as Lucy’s voice goes soft and choked, talking about how utterly amazing the stars were in the desert that night.

(Living down in this miserable shitshack, she thinks, it’s hard to remember stars.)

“Well,” she says at last, breaking her own reverie. “Nightcap?”

“If you want.” Flynn shrugs, glancing at her almost diffidently. As if to say that he’ll drink if she will, since he doesn’t want her doing it alone, and it’s. . . it’s touching. “Though with this and what we had at Carrie’s juke joint, I’d say we don’t really need much more, do we?”

“Between this and the beer, we do seem to stay lubricated,” Lucy says wryly. “There have to be some perks to this job, right?”

“I can think of a few.” The corner of Flynn’s mouth twitches. As if to say that he knows it sucks to live in this crappy bunker and constantly be running through history trying to save it from your evil mother and her psychotic friends, not to mention the rest of what’s been going on down here, so he’s hoping tonight doesn’t have to be added to that list. When she doesn’t reach for the bottle, he stands up and puts it on the shelf over his bed. “It’s late.”

This is true, but it was late when she got there, and Lucy cannot summon up any real desire to go back out to the torture couch, in the cold. It’s warmer in here, and the company’s not bad, and – well, knowing that Wyatt and Jessica and Rufus and Jiya are together, one is definitely the loneliest number. After a pause, she agrees, “Yeah.”

They glance at each other as Flynn puts the glasses up with the bottle. Lucy wonders if he’s politely stealing it from her, keeping it in gentle custody so she can’t go back to the habit alone, and wonders if she should stop him. Drinking with him was certainly much more enjoyable than drinking alone, and for the first time since she started, it doesn’t feel like just a bandage and a stopgap on an open wound, but like something. . . well, sweeter. Building something, in this quiet conversation and gentle company, these stories of the people they miss so much, the comfort and the solace and the strength that he (he!) has become for her. It has been a genuinely wonderful day, by and large, with him. She’s been happier than she has in weeks. Going back to the iron maiden, in solitude. . .

She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want that.

(And she may want something else. Which definitely would not be a good idea.)

There’s another slightly fraught moment as they hold each other’s gazes. Flynn makes a move as if to open the door, expecting her to want to go, and Lucy reaches out and catches his arm. “I. . .” Her mouth is dry, not just from the alcohol, and her tongue seems more than usually uncooperative. Her voice comes out breathy. “Maybe I could just. . . stay here tonight?”

Both of Flynn’s dark eyebrows jump. There is only one bed in the room, and it is, like the rest of them, not large. (She’s not sure all of him fits into it, let alone an extra.) His eyes flicker down to where she is still resting her hand on his sleeve, and she can feel the muscles of his forearm tense, ever so slightly. “I – ” he says, and clears his throat. “There’s not much space.”

“There’s even less on the couch.”

“You’re small.” Half a patented Flynn tongue flick, and a glance at her from head to toe with hooded eyes. “You should fit.”

Lucy starts to say something in response, and then stops, because that stupid tongue has just inconsiderately destroyed her train of thought. There has certainly been some implication in the fact that she came to visit him alone in his bedroom late at night, with drinks, even if he’s been far too much of a gentleman to point it out. That, though, that reminds her of some of his more insolent and thorough looks at her last year, when it apparently never occurred to him to at least try to pretend that they were enemies. It curls low and rich and hot in her blood, an awareness of sudden possibilities, the fact that they are still standing quite close together and her hand is still on his arm. They shift at the same time, which only succeeds in bringing them even closer, her hips nestling against his thighs. He really is unfairly tall.

“Lucy – ” Flynn starts, his voice sounding huskier than usual, deep in his chest. He sounds almost worried, as if she might have not meant to get this close, and he will warn her so she can back away. “I don’t – ”

Lucy slowly trails her fingers down his arm to his hand, catching at his fingers, which hesitate, then close lightly over hers. They are long as pistol barrels, palm rough and callused, and as he’s strong enough to lift her and twirl her easily over his head with no apparent effort, there’s a certain appealing idea in exploring that more. She has known in an instinctive, unspoken way that he utterly adores her, is fascinated and delighted and downright entranced by her, but – after all, he does still wear his own wedding ring, and there’s a difference between “I want to get to know you” and “I want to get to know you.” How much does he want this, or her, or them? How much does she want him to? Will she be satisfied, will she be able to bear it, if after all this time, after everything, there are limits? If she can only take part, but not all? Look, but not touch?

“Lucy,” he says again. “I’m sure you’re – you’re tired.”

“A little.” Lucy glances up at him, trying to see if he’s trying to back her off without being rude, or – if, well. From the look on his face, he is trying to remember both how to breathe or to form coherent words, clearly things that he has managed successfully for forty-three years of his life to date (even if not always smart words). He’s staring down at her like – well, as over the top as it sounds, like some kind of heavenly light. Like she was what shone on the face of his darkness and his deep, and you know. That is what Lucy means. Light.

Flynn’s eyelashes flutter, his eyes half closing, as she traces her hands – both of them – from his arm and up along his chest. She has noted in a purely academic way that she can see his nipples through the thin grey weave of his shirt, and her thumbs press, circling briefly, then stroking up to his shoulders. He is solid and broad as a barrel, steady as a rock, and currently also standing as still as one. He seems to have lost all motor function whatsoever.

“Is this – ” Suddenly uncertain, Lucy stops. “Is this all right?”

Flynn does that half-gasp smile he did when she first arrived at his door, that total tender disbelief. “I – Lucy.” His accent thickens on her name, half a croon. “Are you sure you want to – it’s late, we’ve had a few drinks, it may not – it may not be – ”

“I don’t know.” Lucy tilts her head back to look at him. “Maybe not.”

There’s another pause, her hands lingering on his shoulders, both of them making some silent decision. Then his hands come up to cover hers, sliding down her arms to her shoulders, and her sides to her hips. Quietly, eyes never leaving hers, he says, “What do you want from me, Lucy?”

She can hear the challenging echoes of when she asked him that in the hotel room back in 1936, but this is spoken entirely differently. It’s a blessedly and almost unbearably clear statement to inform her that, with no pretense or pretending, no tricks or games, she can ask for whatever she likes, and he is altogether willing to give it to her. As long as it’s what she truly wants, and isn’t something that will come back to haunt or hurt. That’s his only condition. That come what may (and in this life, that could be almost anything) that she will not regret it.

Lucy considers. She can feel the heat in her face, in her hands, her entire body, and she wants to experiment. It could be about anger and jealousy – and perhaps, there’s a little bit of that. Spite over the fact that Wyatt gets to have all the fun he wants (loudly) with Jessica, and still thinks he can have his cake and eat it with their old close relationship. But this isn’t about Wyatt right now, not really. It’s about her, and this night, and Flynn. Flynn, who has been so soft and dorky and gentle and worshipful around her, in a way that barely seems like it can be the same angry, violent murderer tearing a red streak through history. She wants this, she wants him, and right now, tonight, that is what matters most. The morning will come, the world will spin on, the next battle will come. She doesn’t want to think about the future, or the past. Only now. Here. This.

“How about – ” Lucy’s voice trembles again. “How about you kiss me?”

Flynn’s eyes close for a brief moment, as if he literally, physically cannot stand hearing those words from her, as if this in fact, some fever dream. His hands tremble where they touch her. Then he lifts one, slowly, and runs his thumb along her cheek, brushing her hair out of her eyes with the back of his fingers. Cups them around her ear, tilts her chin back. Then stoops, as she stands on her tiptoes, and sets his mouth, lightly as a snowflake, to hers.

They kiss without a sound for a long moment, except for small, soft sighs. They turn their heads to find a better angle, as his other arm comes around her waist and lifts her up. There is absolutely something extremely alluring about how easy it is for him, even as her feet dangle several solid inches off the floor. They open their mouths shyly, turn and taste, musing and breathing, as it finds its footing after the first few tentative moments and begins to become more confident. It’s hotter, more insistent, raw and rousing, her hands slipping in his hair, cupping the back of his head, pressing him into her. It is the thunder and the lightning and the rain.

At last, after a breathless, dazzled moment, Flynn puts her down, looking stunned. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still clearly consciously forcing himself to breathe. He doesn’t seem to be doing it very well. Half to himself, he says, “Christ.”

Lucy wants to answer, but nothing seems able to work, or to get her tongue around. Her arms are still around his neck, and their gazes cannot be dragged apart. She can feel him in her hands, in her arms, in the sinews of her soul, and knows then beyond a doubt that he belongs to her. It’s terrifying and wonderful all at once, but given this, everything, she has to make sure he knows. “If tomorrow – ” She can’t get her own breath either, as they sway on the spot in each other’s arms. “If Lorena – if Lorena comes back too, I just want you to know, I don’t – it’s not going to be a mess again, like – like last time. I – I will be so happy for you. Truly.”

Something passes over Flynn’s face like the spring rush beneath broken ice, something desperate and powerful and poignant all at once. As if even the idea of seeing Lorena again is one he cannot bear to let himself imagine, and also that he has not changed his mind from what he told her in 1780. That saving them does not mean a reunion with them, that he is still intending to let them go. The idea breaks Lucy’s heart, almost twice over. That he would fight so hard and so long to see his wife and daughter take one more breath, and then, feeling so unworthy of them, leave. Wants to tell him that they’re on a pedestal on his head the way Jessica was with Wyatt, that he is one of the bravest (and perhaps, best, in his disaster way) men she has ever met. That he does deserve that, and he does deserve them, and she wants to see him have that chance.

(And yet, something does break a little inside her at the idea of watching one more man that’s been part of her turn back to the arms of his wife, and she cannot pretend it doesn’t.)

“All right,” Flynn says at last, hoarsely. “I see.”

Lucy doesn’t know how to answer that. She means it, she means it as much as she told Wyatt to go back to Jessica – what, what does he see? She doesn’t want to think about this, she doesn’t want to cry again, she doesn’t want to think about another sacrifice. It might be a little selfish this time, but she also thinks she’s earned it. She grabs hold of Flynn’s head, and pulls his mouth down to hers for a hot, devouring kiss.

They don’t stop this time until they’re absolutely heaving for breath, and Lucy’s hands fumble at the edge of his shirt, pulling it insistently over his head. His fingers fumble at the buttons of hers, undoing a few, as she manages the rest and shrugs it off, so she’s only in her bra. He lifts her up, she wraps her legs around his waist, and he walks them backward to the bed, sitting down on it as they continue to make out, slick and wet and hot and hungry, her mouth exploring the underside of his chiseled jaw and nipping at the pulse point, breathing on the shell of his ear. Her eyes are half-closed, even as she puts a hand on his head and guides his mouth down her neck, between her breasts. He kisses and lavishes and worships them with attention, the straps of her bra sliding down her slender shoulders, and he deftly springs the clasp. She pulls it off her arms, and lets him wrap her in his again, and goes down onto the bed on top of him.

Several more minutes of increasingly frenetic kissing follows, until Lucy wonders if they themselves are making a little too much noise, and then decides she doesn’t care. Flynn’s room is at the end of the hall, away from the others, and if Wyatt is up for a midnight snack – well, she’s not above thinking that so much the better. She drags her mouth down Flynn’s throat, along the rough muscles of his pecs and abs, and is just thinking about investigating lower when he stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “No,” he says. “Let me.”

With that, they sit up and change positions on the bed, as Flynn lays her on her back and – never breaking eye contact, making it clear that she can alter or stop this any time she wants – traces his fingers down her ribs to the high waistband of her jeans. Slowly, carefully, he undoes them and rolls them off, as she wriggles her hips to help him and then kicks them off her feet. Then he hooks his fingers under her panties, glides them down, and lets them drop away. She’s on her back in his bed, totally naked beneath him, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed and her mouth open, and he just stares at her for a long, completely bedazzled moment. The man is beholding the Holy Grail, you’d think. Lucy is almost embarrassed. Yes, all right, she’s not hideous, she isn’t going to strike him blind, but is she actually worthy of this reverence?

“Come on,” she whispers, small and shakily. “Come on, please.”

Another faint shudder passes through Flynn at her words. He considers for a long moment, like an artist deciding where to make the first stroke on the canvas, and then moves his hand between her legs. He doesn’t touch her intimately at once, brushing his fingers over the line of her pelvis, but then slowly moves them lower, splitting her with a thumb and stroking the silky wetness. He almost looks surprised that she is already roused, but a hint of his old devilish smirk crosses his face that she is. He moves his hand again, and murmurs something very earthy-sounding in Croatian that she thinks it’s better not to understand.

Flynn touches her lightly and thoroughly, roughing her clit with the pad of his thumb, unhurried and deliberate and clearly taking more than a little smug satisfaction in the mewling whimpers she is uttering. He slides a finger down and, after a glance at her and a breathless little nod, into her, up to the first knuckle. Touches her inside, rubbing her with just enough friction to make her buck her hips up. He steadies her with a hand on her waist and returns to his work. When she’s so wet that his fingers glisten as he draws them out, he considers her again. With a deep, inviting growl in his voice, he says, “Eh?”

Lucy doesn’t know exactly what eh means, in this context, but she is also under no illusions that she does not want it. “Please.”

Flynn smirks, as if he is thinking about making her ask again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lifts her legs and drapes them over his shoulders, then manages to arrange himself within the limited space on the bed, chin on her pubic bone and pressing kiss after kiss low on her belly. Then, just as she is about to resort to grabbing his hair and pushing him, he catches her greedy hand and links his fingers through it, pulling it away. Lowers his head, spreads her legs, and kisses her there. Once almost sweetly, as if to give her a moment to acclimate. Then he goes to work.

Lucy jerks, digging her heels into his back hard enough that she half-wonders if she’s hurting him, but she doesn’t think that could be possible. He sucks and licks and browses, intent and relentless, paying attention to every bit of her that he can find and discovering nerves she did not realize that she possessed. She bites her lip until she can feel the skin break and manages to keep back most of her moans, but not all of them. Garcia Flynn is in fact a goddamn menace.

Flynn has driven her to the very brink of the edge when she shifts her hips just enough to pull him away. He looks up at her, startled and almost hesitant, but she crooks a finger. “Come on,” she whispers. “Eh?”

He looks at her, mouth still wet with her, eyes starving. “Are you – Lucy, are you sure?”

“I’m a grown woman,” Lucy says. “It’s nobody’s business who I sleep with but mine. So.” She shrugs, trying to sound casual. “If you – ”

Again, Flynn half-closes his eyes, as if to wonder how she could ever be in any doubt that he wants this, wants her, more than life itself. After a pause in which she does not appear likely to change her mind, he pauses, then shrugs and stands up. Undoes his belt and shucks his trousers, almost matter-of-factly. He is so delightfully long and lean and tall and trim, and just now, all Lucy wants is to climb him like a tree. He steps out of his boxers, with a slight self-conscious flourish, and holds out his hands. Here he is. She can look all she wants.

Lucy does so, roaming her eyes over him from head to toe, even as she can see the gooseflesh prickling on his arms for more reasons than the cool air of the room. His throat quivers as he looks at her, but he does not move to return to the bed. Not until she crooks a finger and whispers, “Garcia.”

At that, the fragile threads of his self control (not to mention his heart) clearly almost give out on the spot. He almost stumbles over himself clambering back onto the bed, as they face each other in nothing but their skins and he grips the back of her head, resting their foreheads together as she runs both hands over his shoulders and chest. “Lucy,” he breathes. “Lucy. God. Lucy.”

Hearing that rough, raw timbre of need, that desperation, is hell on Lucy’s determination to take her own time about this. She slides closer on her knees, reaching down to take him in hand, and whatever little blood there is left in his head vacates it at top speed. She strokes and circles with her thumb, enjoying the velvety hardness of him in her hand, stiff and quivering. Then she moves closer again, stands up on her knees, and spreads herself with her free hand. With that, slowly, carefully, whispered words against the corner of the other’s mouths telling them where to move, where to go, like that, just there, he presses at her, and then a sudden few inches into her.

Lucy gasps in the back of her throat, and he grips her by the hips, gently aligning the fit of their bodies. He waits, then when she gives him another nod, slides deeper. He pushes her apart, filling her hot and solidly, as she looks down to watch him into her and wriggles her hips to encourage him deeper. He mutters something incomprehensible and manages to take it slowly until he’s seated, as she gives him a few slick clutches and both of them seem to forget which way is up. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down to take her fully, and wraps her legs around his thighs. He braces his weight on his elbows, straining and settling into her.

After a long pause, when she nods to him, he starts to move. Shallow, soft thrusts at first, finding how they fit together, where she likes it, listening intently to her little whispers or gasps to see what feels the best. He rolls himself a little harder into her, hits a spot deep inside that makes her see white sparks. She drags her fingernails on the breadth of his shoulders, curling around his head, rising her hips to meet his, dragging out their thrusts together as the old metal feet of the bed begin to pound in a tell-tale way on the cement floor. Fine. Fine.

They buck and arch and writhe as it turns from sweet and gentle lovemaking to more intense and all-consuming fucking. God, he keeps hitting her right there, it almost seems he has practice at it. They can’t really roll too much, or they’ll fall off the bed, but they’re moving plenty. She ends up on top for several moments, riding him ferociously, hands braced on his shoulders as he grips her wrists. Her knees dig into the bunched sheets, he slips out and then decidedly back into her, and it almost makes her scream. God. God. God.

He reaches to finger her, keeping time with his strokes both within and without, until she can feel herself being dragged over in a wet white hot rush. She whimpers, jerks around him, and lets herself be swept over, down and down and down. She sprawls out on his chest as he wraps his arms around her, and holds her through the storm, and loses himself in the rain.

They comes back to themselves only slowly, badly and piecemeal, sorting out their entangled bodies as he slips from her, neither of them quite able to believe that that just happened. Lucy feels almost shy, crossing her arms over her breasts, but makes herself drop them. There’s really not much point in getting dressed again, and she feels too fragile and hot and well-used for her skin to stand clothes. She remains where she is, feeling boneless, as he adjusts their position, pulls the tangled covers out and tosses them over them, and gathers her against his chest.

Lucy snuggles back into him, pressing her ass against his thighs, their dark heads side by side on the whiteness of the pillow, her hair loose against their shoulders, his hand on her stomach. He makes a sound that she doesn’t quite recognize as they settle into the thin mattress together – and then she does.

Garcia Flynn is humming.

[charmedtheselfproclaimedking]

Charmed Again: Season 2 (Charmed Fanfic)

Episode 4 - Demonic Family Values

Warnings: I don’t own the rights to any of the characters from the hit TV show “Charmed” or the storylines related to the show those rights belong to original creator Constance M Burge.

15+ Moderate/Graphic Displays of Violence, Sexual Innuendos, Witchcraft and Potentially Triggering Scenes.

“OK what have I done now?” Quinn asked nervously after orbing into the clouds to meet head elder Paige. “If it’s about that kiss technically it was only a half kiss as half of it happened in a dream so I should only be half punished. Please don’t let them relocate me again or god forbid recycle me.

“Calm down Quinn for once I’m not calling you up here because you’re in trouble.” Paige replied to him once she was done laughing at his nervous outburst. “I actually have some pretty amazing news for you.”

“Is this elder’s style of good news or your style of good news? Either way some good news would be highly appreciated right now.” Quinn wondered.

“I forced the elders’ hand and finally got them to do away with the rule forbidden white lighters from dating demons meaning if you still want to be with Drake there’s no longer anything standing in your way.” Paige revealed to a stunned Quinn who was left completely speechless by her words.

Drake had sat both Paul and Pan down at the table within the dining room of their family home and explained to him his plans to make Eve human again by making someone else take her place as the source of all evil.

“So, you’re wanting our help to expel your mother’s powers and then dump them in some other demon ultimately make a whole new source of all evil?” Pan asked as she stood up from her chair to face her nephew. “Tell me something Drake, have you completely and utter lost your mind?”

“Pan…�� Paul began to say as he too stood up from his chair.

“Don’t Paul,” Pan snapped at her older brother. “You know as well as I do, making another source of all evil is a terrible plan!”

“Look I’m not saying this plan is one of my best or that it’s anything other than crazy but hey crazy is the way of life around here.” Drake explained to them both. “All we have to do is lures some lower level demon into a trap, turn them into the source and then vanquish them. It’s actually really simple once you ignore all the crazy.”

“Simple,” Pan scoffed. “There is nothing simple about turning the current source human to then create a new one so we can vanquish them and all this hinges on the hope that you can actually trust Eve.”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be with my son.” Eve told everyone after appearing into the room within a burst of flames. “However, I do have one little condition.”

“Of course, you bloody do!” Pan snapped at the source of all evil.

“When my powers are removed, I want them to be given to my father making him the new source of all evil and appeasing him for my decision to leave the Underworld forever.” Eve revealed to the charmed ones leaving them all shocked to learn she has a father.

“Who’s your father?” Drake asked his mother but before she could answer the demon wearing Eric Morgan’s body blinked into the dining room wearing triad robes.

“This has got to be some kind of cruel joke.” Paul declared upon seeing the demon in Eric Morgan’s form.

“That bastard killed Lacey!” Pan shouted before raising her hands to explode the demon only for him to be lightly wounded in the shoulder.

“You seriously expect me to grant power to the person who not only killed my best friend and her father but still has the disrespect to wear his body.” Drake asked Eve, furious with the reveal his long-lost grandfather was behind his father figure’s demise.

“I was simply following a plan which mission was to darken you heart and force your hand to join your mother and I in the underworld.” The demon pretending to be Eric told his grandson Drake. “However, I see now that you will never join us and I’m slowly learning to accept that. By the way if it makes things easier my real name is Titus.”

“The only thing you need to accept is the excruciating pain that’s coming your way at my hands I’m going to make you suffer in ways you never thought possible break into pieces you can recover from and once you’re well and truly broken beyond repair only then will I grant you the mercy of death.” Drake threatened his demonic grandfather as he got up in his face.

“It seems you do take after our side in some ways.” Titus replied with a proud smile.

“I think we should hear them out.” Paul suggested causing both Drake and Pan to turn and look at him with confusion on their faces before he turned to face Eve. “Please give us time to discuss this among each other.”

Eve nodded her head in acceptance to Paul before her and her father Titus disappeared within a burst of flames.

“There’s nothing to discuss if she had told me about that condition earlier I would’ve just vanquished her on the spot there is no chance I’m making the murderer of my best friend and her father the source of all evil that’s just like giving him a trophy for what he’s done when all he deserves is a very painful vanquishing.” Drake snapped at his father.

“I’m with Drake on this one Paul,” Pan sided with her nephew. “The only spell we should be casting for this Titus is a vanquishing one.”

“Before you are both so quick to turn against me you should probably shut up and listen to my plan.” Paul said with a cunning smile which instantly made both Drake and Pan smile, knowing he was plotting a twist they’d be on board with.

“Hey.” Drake greeted Cindy as he walked into Devilish Delights to find Cindy drinking champagne behind the bar counter while the rest of the club was empty.

“If this is some kind of human training day then I’m pulling a human sick day.” Cindy replied as Drake walked over to the bar.

“Actually, it’s a I have far too much crazy running about my mind, so I need drink kind of day.” Drake admitted to her.

“Since when was crazy a bad thing?” Cindy joked as she took a drink of her champagne.

“Wait a minute,” Drake said while looking around the empty club. “This place opened like an hour ago why is it so empty?”

“Yeah about that I kind of made a deal with an angel…” Cindy began to say as Quinn took orbed onto the stage holding a microphone much to Drake’s confusion ad Quinn began singing I can’t live if living is without you really badly.

“What the hell?” Drake wondered as he continued to listen to Quinn butcher one of his favorite songs.”

“I just want to say when I agreed to this, I thought he’d sound like an angel.” Cindy told Drake before Drake began walking towards the stage before climbing onto the stage making Quinn stop singing.

“What the hell are you doing?” Drake asked as he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Serenading the one I love or at the very least attempting to.” Quinn replied to him, clearly nervous of Drake’s response.

“What did you just say?” Drake questioned him, wanting confirmation.

“I’m in love with you Drake and I always have been.” Quinn revealed as he dropped the mic onto the stage floor and pulled Drake’s body in towards him for a passionate kiss causing an overlooking Cindy to smile at the couple’s reunion.

“What about the elders and their rules?” Drake said after pulling himself away from Quinn reluctantly.

“The rules don’t exist anymore so there’s nothing stopping us from being together anymore.” Quinn replied before kissing Drake once again. “That’s if you want to be with me.”

“Of course, I do you bloody idiot I’ve always wanted to be with you.” Drake admitted as he pulled Quinn in closer to him as the new couple began passionately kissing before blinking out of Devilish Delights and into Drake’s bedroom back in the Halliwell Manor as the two began tearing at each other’s clothes before Quinn threw Drake down on his bed and quickly climbed on top of him much to Drake’s excitement.

“I mean considering you normally leave all planning to me this is pretty genius but Drake’s still going to have to kill his own blood albeit this one is a cold-blooded best friend and best friend’s father killer.” Pan told her brother as the two sat on the couch at Paul’s office within the Stevens and Summers law firm as they ate some Chinese takeout.

“True but I’d rather it be this Titus guy than Eve because no matter how hard I try to paint her the villain she was treated just as badly by our family as she treated us and she really wants a relationship with her son it’s only fair we both get that chance.” Paul admitted to his sister.

“You’re right I guess despite how much I’m pissed at Eve I can understand why she chose that path and if she seriously wants to seek redemption then we’ve got no choice but to help her.” Pan reluctantly replied. “I’m just dreading how she’ll react when she learns we’ve tricked her and killed her father.”

“I think she’ll understand in her own way why we double crossed her besides she’s double crossed us enough times she should really see this one coming.” Paul laughed while continuing to tuck into his Chinese while using his chopsticks.

“I can’t believe after decades of drama with Eve she’s finally going to be human I just can’t get my head around the idea of a human Eve.” Pan explained to her brother.

“I suppose the idea of Eve being human complicates your newly found single status even further.” Paul said to his sister. “Especially considering Eve was your first love.”

“Don’t remind me how my love life has once again taken another tragic dive.” Pan moaned. “I mean Lacey quit as our white lighter just so she doesn’t have to see me anymore and that’s still a better break up than Eve who literally ditched me for hell.”

“Lacey didn’t break up with you to hurt you she’s just trying to find her way being a white lighter which is a back change from being an alive detective and maybe just maybe she has a point about her living forever and you not.” Paul explained.

“Our grandmother married a white lighter our grandfather Leo and they managed to make it work just fine.” Pan argued as she placed her take out box onto a nearby table.

“I know they made it work but just because they did doesn’t mean you and Lacey were I’m not trying to belittle what you and Lacey have but I don’t want you to get your hopes up either.” Paul told his sister as he placed his Chinese container on the same table.

“Well I’m not giving up…just yet anyways.” Pan replied.

“I can’t believe that after all this time we’re finally together,” Drake said to Quinn as the two laid in Drake’s bed looking deeply into each other’s eyes while completely naked, only the bedding covering their naked bodies. “There was a part of me that thought we’d never happen.”

“I never gave up hoping for this day I would’ve waited centuries even if they only allowed me a single day of being able to love you without any rules.” Quinn admitted to Drake before kissing him on the lips.

“You really do have a way of making me love you more and more each day.” Drake replied before pulling Quinn in closer to him and beginning to passionately kiss him as Quinn found himself on top of Drake once again only to be interrupted by a loud knocking noise before Pan let herself into the room.

“Oh, my actual god!” Pan said in shock as Drake and Quinn separated their bodies and remained hidden under the covers. “I promise I don’t keep doing this on purpose it’s like there’s some twisted angel of destiny determined to make us all go to therapy.”

“It’s okay Pan I’m beginning to get used to you gate crashing in on all my personal moments.” Drake joked.

“On the plus side, yay! You two are finally together.” Pan cheered before Quinn and Drake both gave her an unimpressed look.

“Thanks, but can you leave until we find our clothes and we’ll meet you in the attic.” Drake replied to his aunt.

“Yeah sure…sorry.” Pan apologised nervously before beginning to walk out. “Please take your time.”

Pan walked into the attic of the Halliwell Manor still pretty traumatized by what she had recently walked in on in her nephew’s bedroom although somewhat happy for the couple at the same time before noticing Paul stood behind the book of shadows flipping through the pages of the book.

“Don’t tell me Drake is still in bloody bed I get he works weird hours and that tires him out but we’re literally about to turn his mother human.” Paul complained to his sister who couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m fairly certain it’s not his job that tired him out,” Pan cackled to herself as she continued to walk towards her brother. “Let’s just say he’s getting changed and will be here right away.”

“Fine I guess we should call for Quinn while we wait for Drake.” Paul replied.

“Yeah you’re probably going to want to wait a minute or two before you call for the white lighter.” Pan suggested to him.

“Quinn!” Paul shouted, ignoring his sister’s request before being left shocked when Quinn orbed into the attic still buttoning up his shirt.

“I’m here,” Quinn said nervously while finishing buttoning up his shirt. “Who needs healing?”

“Nobody needs healing,” Paul responded with a confused look on his face. “Why are you only just getting changed now? Is everybody having a lazy day?”

“Let’s just say it’s been a busy day for everyone.” Pan told her brother trying to throw him off the scent.

“Okay so I guess it’s time to start prepping for this spell.” Drake said as he walked into the attic and finished putting his t-shirt on making Paul click to what had just went down between his white lighter and his son.

“Oh god,” Paul said with a disgusted look on his face. “Let’s just file whatever this is under to be talked about…never!”

“Sounds good to me.” Pan replied as Drake and Quinn shared a flirtatious smile towards each other.

“So, we cast this spell which will allow Eve’s powers to transfer to her devil daddy making him the source of all evil.” Paul began to explain, eager to change the current subject.

“Then I’ll blink Eve somewhere as far away as possible so she can’t stop what we do next.” Drake continued to speak the plan as he walked over to stand next to Paul and Pan.

“While I freeze the father so he can’t escape us.” Pan revealed her part of the plan.

“And then we cast the source vanquishing spell…” Paul said, continuing to explain their plan.

“And then we all live happily ever after.” Quinn butted in while smiling from ear to ear, looking at Drake, the man he loved.

“Before everyone lives happily ever after we should probably tell Lacey we’re intending on killing her fake daddy you know the guy who killed her real daddy.” Drake told them all. “She deserves to know we’re avenging not only her death but her father’s too.”

“You’re right.” Pan agreed.

“I’m glad you said that,” Drake said with a slightly sinister smirk before waving his hand in front of Pan and shouting. “Go to Lacey.”

Pan instantly blinked away within a second due to Drake’s powers instantly making Paul chuckle at what his son just did.

“She is totally going to kill you for making her be the one to speak to Lacey.” Paul joked with his son.

“Yeah well sometimes love’s worth fighting for.” Drake replied while looking in Quinn’s eyes lovingly and Quinn responded with pure admiration.

“Okay I am glad you guys have finally worked stuff out but I’m still the dad around here so at least try and pretend you guys didn’t just have sex under my roof.” Paul said while rolling his eyes at the two lovers.

Pan blinked into the kitchen of Lacey’s new apartment shocking Lacey in the process who was sat at her kitchen counter drinking a glass of wine.

“Pan what are you doing here?” Lacey asked her as she stood up from her chair and placed her glass down on the counter. “I didn’t expect to see you today…well I didn’t expect to see you anytime soon to be honest.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning to visit you anytime soon either but something really important has come up.” Pan revealed to her. “We’re about to kill the demon who killed you and your father, and we thought you should be informed by one of us…Drake decided it should be me.”

“I want to be there Pan I need to be there I want my face to be the last he sees before he dies.” Lacey told her ex-girlfriend.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that but it’s not safe for anyone to be there unless they’re a charmed one.” Pan explained to her. “Quinn’s only on standby I case well in case one or all of us get injured.”

“Pan this demon killed my father played mind games with me and then killed me too.” Lacey argued with her. “I want to be there to see put to an end.”

“I understand that, but this is the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done and neither of us can afford to go into it worrying about you.” Pan told her. “Please just stay away and allow us to do what we do best.”

“You’re right,” Lacey replied reluctantly. “The power of three were born to vanquish evil like him…just be careful!”

“You should really get yourself to the elders to inform them of our plans.” Drake suggested to Quinn as he pulled himself off his white lighter following a heavy make out session on the stairs leading to the foyer of the family home. “We need them in the know and on standby in case anything goes wrong.”

“Just know I’ll be ready when you call you three have got this!” Quinn replied to Drake. “I love you!”

“I love you too.” Drake responded with a smile before kissing Quinn who orbed away mid kiss, much to Drake’s frustration. “Yeah that’s going to take some getting used to.”

“What are you doing here mum?” Drake asked as he walked into his bedroom to find his mother Eve stood there waiting for him.

“I just felt like checking in to see if you are willing to accept my conditions.” Eve replied to her son.

“Only you would have conditions for being able to be my mother.” Drake snapped at her.

“You have conditions for me to be your mother too.” Eve snapped back. “Like mother like son some would say.”

“I guess we have more in common than I thought then.” Drake said with a sincere smile. “We very reluctantly agree to your conditions because I want you in my life.”

“Good,” Eve answered while smiling back at her son. “I’m promise after today I’m finally going to start being the mother, I should’ve been from the very start”

“I so badly want to believe you because for some reason I really do love you mum.” Drake admitted to her.

“Drake…” Eve began to say as she walked towards her son. “You have got to believe me when I say I’m going to make up for everything I know I’ve handled things superbly bad since we met again but I now see this is the only way for me to truly get to be your mother and I promise you nothing in this world will stop me from being your mum.”

“That’s what I’ve always wanted to hear from you.” Drake revealed as he hugged his mum tightly.

“I really do love you my darling boy.” Eve told her son while continuing to hold him tighter.

“I think it’s time to get this all over and done with already.” Titus told the charmed ones who were all stood behind the book of shadows while he and Eve stood in front of them.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Pan said while delivering a look of hate towards Titus as she walked over to Eve and dropped a potion vile down at Eve’s feet making dark black orbs appear from out of the source of all evil before the orbs quickly traveled over to her father Titus.

Before the charmed ones had a chance to continue their master-plan, they were left stunned when Lacey orbed in and threw several potions at Titus, none of which did anything to the new source of all evil.

“Lacey, I told you to stay the hell away!” Pan snapped at the detective turned white lighter just before Titus summoned a fireball above his hand and launched it at Lacey throwing her right out the attic and falling down the stairs making Pan scream. “Lacey!”

Pan went to run towards her injured ex before Titus summoned another energy ball and launched it at her causing Pan to go flying into a nearby wall before harshly hitting the ground.

“Dad what the hell are you doing?” Eve shouted at her father before he waved his hand in her direction and magically sending her flying across the attic, hitting the floor next to Pan.

Drake quickly rushed over towards Titus eager to fight the new source of all evil but before he got a chance Titus launched several fireballs at the Halliwell hybrid sending him flying across the other end of the attic and crashing into a table.

“Quinn!” Paul shouted frantically and repeatedly.

“Yeah he’s not coming anytime soon my fellow members of the triad have cast a spell to trap your little white lighter.” Titus boasted to the last man standing.

“We gave you what you wanted.” Paul snapped at the new source before Titus waved his hand and telekinetic-ally sent the eldest charmed one flying into a nearby wall.

Titus quickly turned his attention to his own daughter as he walked over to Eve and picked her up by the throat.

“Father why are you doing this?” She asked while struggling to speak as her father strangled her.

“You have been nothing but a disappointment to me your entire life!” Titus said to his daughter coldly as he pulled out an athame and stabbed her in the chest before dropping her onto the floor to bleed out as Drake slowly rose to his feet. “You were dead to me the moment you took up with this family.”

“Mum!” Drake screamed as Titus disappeared within a burst of flames before Drake rushed over to his mum, kneeling over to pick her bloodied and dying body into his arms. “Mum!”

Drake continued to hold his dying mother Eve in his arms as she continued to bleed out while Paul and Pan slowly got back on their feet.

“Quinn!” Drake screamed at the top of his voice as his eyes flooded with tears. “Aunt Paige! Someone!”

“Nobody’s coming,” Eve told her son while she continued to cough up blood. “But it’s okay because I lived a long life far longer than most.”

“No mummy I can’t lose you I only just got you back.” Drake sobbed as his heart began to break. “I need you mum! Please don’t die on me now.”

“I will never regret a single moment we shared together,” Eve told her son, knowing she was about to die. “Giving birth to you and holding you in my arms was the happiest day of my life.”

“Just hold on okay,” Drake pleaded with his mother as his voice began to break while Paul and Pan began to cry along with him. “Just hold on a little longer you’re going to make it.”

“Drake…you truly are remarkable in every way.” Eve said as her eyes slowly began to close. “You’ve made me so incredibly proud.”

“Mum…wake up.” Drake sobbed as he began shaking his mother’s unconscious body. “Mummy please wake up.”

“Drake...” Paul began to say.

“Wake up!” Drake screamed repeatedly before hugging his mother one last time. “Please don’t leave me I can’t lose another parent!”

“I’m so sorry Drake.” Pan cried. “She’s gone.”

“No, she’s not.” Drake said in defiance before softly placing his mother’s body on to the floor and standing up and beginning to walk over to the book of shadows. “There will be some spell to bring her back or we can wake Lacey up and get her to heal mum. We can find Quinn and get him to heal her.”

“Son you know white lighters can’t heal the dead and I’m sorry but there’s no spell to bring her back.” Paul told his son.

“I’m not losing another parent I can’t lose another parent.” Drake snapped while beginning to cry more frantically, breaking down in front of his aunt and his father. “She’s my mum I’ve already lost one I can’t lose another. What’s the point I magic if I can’t even save my mum. I can’t go through this again. She can’t just be gone.”

Paul quickly rushed over to Drake as his son fell to his knees and sobbed onto the floor destroyed by his mother’s death while Pan continued to cry as she watch her brother try and fail to console his son as he continued to let out screams of pure devastation.

A completely defeated looking Pan walked downstairs of the Halliwell Manor and into the foyer to meet a guilty looking Lacey who had been informed her interference resulting in her best friend losing another mother.

“How is he?” Lacey asked, fearing the answer.

“How do you think he is,” Pan snapped at her. “He’s just lost his third parent the boy is broken. I told you to stay away!”

“Pan that demon killed my father there was no way I could’ve just stayed away.” Lacey tried to explain herself.

“If you had trusted us none of this would ever have happened.” Pan cried. “Drake’s going through something he should’ve never had to go through especially for a third time and your partly to blame for his pain. I will never forgive you for what you’ve done!”

“Please just let me see him speak to him tell him I’m sorry.” Lacey pleaded with her. “He’s my best friend.”

“You need to leave…” Pan told her as her voice began to break. “You need to leave and never come back!”

Several days had passed and Drake had barely got out of his bed, struggling to overcome his grief for his mother worrying Paul, Pan and Quinn increasingly with each day leaving them completely exhausted as they kept a joint 24-hour watch on him.

“He’s barely ate moved or bathed in days.” Paul told Pan and Quinn as they all stood in the upstairs hallway of the Halliwell Manor. “I’m beginning to worry what will happen to him if we don’t intervene.”

“Paul he just lost his mother it’s going to take him a long time to heal we didn’t exactly get over our mother’s death within a matter of days.” Pan explained to her brother.

“He’s already lost a mother and a father…losing them almost destroyed him and he was only just beginning to heal from that loss and now he’s lost Eve.” Paul argued with his sister. “I really don’t think he’s going to make it through this loss.”

“Paul what you’re talking about is a violation of the mind.” Quinn told his charge.

“There’s no other way I can think to make him okay and all I want is for him to be okay.” Paul began to cry. “He’s a shell of himself right now and I’m beyond terrified we may never get him back if we don’t act now.”

“Paul’s right,” Pan eventually agreed as she reached out and held her brother’s hand. “Drake’s lost more already than most people lose throughout the entirety of their lives he may not get through this loss.”

“Then I guess we do what we need to do in the name of protecting him.” Quinn agreed reluctantly.

“My sister may be able to manipulate dreams, but I can manipulate memories.” Cindy revealed after shimmering into the hallway. “Luckily for you guys I care about that hybrid in there.”

“How does this work?” Paul asked his son’s demonic boss.

“I’ll remove all memories of Eve from his mind so that it’ll be like she never existed.” Cindy explained to the three of them. “Every other memory will remain intact everything that happened because of her will be remembered the same by him including him remember who his father is, who he loves and who his aunt is. All he will remember about this day is that you tried to stop Titus the source of all evil and use failed.”

“This doesn’t feel right at all!” Quinn snapped.

“This is the only way!” Paul snapped back at Quinn.

[smiles4voltron]

Those 80 days (A Coeihns story)

Based of the Coeihns from my fanfic Let me Catch My Breath! A look into how Tellru/Dravla and Manson/Kac’ela became equivalents! 

Summary: A different look into the world of the Coeihns. Many years before our two favorite paladins fell to the Coeihn world, before King Manson gained his grown, there was a Coeihn name Kac'ela, who would one day be the Equivalent to King Manson. This is his story. No, this is their story. How he met a young Prince and fell in love.Who knows, he might even be able to introduce his sister Tellru to the dashing Fifth champion in the process :3

Day 1 (Manny):

As the prince, Manson had to follow very specific rules. He must dress a certain way, act a certain way, present himself a certain way. He couldn’t slouch or act too inappropriately with others.

He had to be escorted by guards constantly, attend important meetings with his Father to learn the ropes, and always prepare for his future role as King.

He definitely didn't suppose to ditch his assigned guard, throw on a cloak, and sneak off on a Kever into town.

To be honest, what harm could it do to stretch his legs a bit? He was strong, skilled, and was capable of taking care of himself if something were to go bad. He saw nothing wrong in taking a moment to himself to walk among his people.

How could he lead them if he did not know them, anyway?

So he enjoyed the time he could, hoping to find some means of feeling normal. To feel like every other Coeihn did at his age; A young adult with his whole life ahead of him. Someone who could act a little rash, running blindly to their future with no fear of the consequences. Someone would be on the lookout for love, but didn’t make it their top priority.

He wanted to feel like that with others.

Not to say Dravla, his best friend since Childhood, didn’t try his best to give him that- but Dravla tended to live on a different level than others without even meaning to. His day was consumed with training, improving his skills- and when he wasn’t, he was guarding Manson or acting in Equivalent challenges.

After defeating his Father in several combat challenges, he had officially earned the title of Fifth Champion and was currently well loved by the people. Many looked to him with aspiration and adoration- but Dravla hardly bat an eye.

Manson couldn’t understand his friend or his wishes to not seek out an Equivalent. Dravla just wasn’t interested in love, or at least, no one had caught his eye yet. But the clock was ticking.

It wasn’t like they were getting any younger, after all. So for now, Manson was on his own in his search for that perfect person.

Of course, all these attempts to be normal we short term, lasting only till he returned to the castle to be the Prince, once more.

“Excuse me?” A form steps in front of his view. “Sir?”

Manson sees their ankles first. They are refined, leading up smooth legs, passing well-structured hands, then he sees the Coeihn’s face.

Sweet Parlog, their face.

The sight of the Coeihn in front of him stalled the breath in Manson’s chest.

Raven hair was the first thing he focused on. It trailed downward, cascading over petite shoulders and curling around them.

He eyed them carefully, caught off guard by the white markings that traced along the skin. While most Coeihns were known for their black markings, the rare sight of white enveloped his thoughts. They shot along the other’s body, guiding Manson’s eyes upward, to meet the gaze of heavenly blue eyes, as clear as the ocean.

They blinked once at him, then the Coeihn inquired, “Is anyone sitting next to you?”

Tongue-tied, he choked on his words, managing to shake his head no. To his delight and horror, the Coeihn sat beside him, at the only seat that seemed available along the Kever.

Blessed or cursed, Manson struggled to keep his calm, so overturned by this unexpected presence.

It was uncanny, the exquisite beauty this being bestowed. They were radiant.

Prominent collar bone, skinny arms, fragile wrists that he could most likely wrap his hands around at least twice...

Who in the world was this fetching creature?

“Can I help you?” realizing only a second too late he was staring, he fumbled. The Coeihn was frowning at him, luscious lips curled in a pouty frown. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

“No- I… You are just-” he breaths carefully, brain too frazzled to think straight, “You’re beautiful,” The Coeihn recoiled back like Manson had slapped him. The blossoming color in his cheeks added volumes to his already dainty features.

They were stammering, “W-What?” As if they were not often complimented for their beauty, which Manson thought couldn’t possibly be true, they fiddled with their shirt, “T-Thank you? I’ve never- who are- Hi.” they give a small wave, fidgeting in their seat, “Who are you? I’m Kac’ela,” he held out his hand.

Kac’ela.

The name rolled off the tongue of this Coeihn’s soothing voice.

Mason wanted to sear the name into his soul, drift away at the sound of his soft voice, curl his fingers into his smooth hair- Was this what people called obsession? Did it count if it was only after knowing someone for a few seconds?

He had never been so affected by just a person's features so much before. What kind of alluring abilities did this siren possess?

Recalling that Kac’ela was still patiently waiting for him to reply, he puts on his best smile.

Taking his hand, mesmerized by the softness of his skin, Mason gently flipped the other’s palm. Lifting it, ingrained in him for years from practice and parties, he kissed the white circle that covered Kac’ela’s knuckles.

His voice came out more confident than he felt, “You may call me Manny,”

With a little gasp, Kac’ela pulled away. Startled and wide-eyed, he held their hand close to his chest, “M-Manny,” they repeat.  

Manson licks his lips, anxious, “Do you live around here?”

Kac’ela nods sheepishly, “Over the hill. You?”

“More in the upper districts,” he wasn’t going to say the castle anytime soon.

In the end, they talk for a long time, discussing little things about where they were going that day. The Kever rides usually felt so long to Manson, but this one wasn’t long enough. It took only a short time for them to reach their destination.

Kac’ela stopped, collecting his bag and tossing it over his shoulder.

“This your stop?” Manson wondered how disappointed he sounded. The white marked Coeihn nodded.

“Afraid so…” rising awkwardly, they stood for a few seconds without moving. Looking like he wanted to say something, he opens his mouth. Nothing comes out and he looks away, “G-Goodbye,”

Manson couldn’t seem to just let him go like that.

“Oh wait-!” in his rush, he threw his arm out, snagging Kac’ela by the wrist. When he tensed, Manny quickly released him and stepped back, “I-I apologize,” he bows his head, “I was just- that is to say, I want to see you again,” He had never cared for interactions with other Coeihns before. He talked to people often, and even considered a few people his friends, but he had never felt this overpowering urge to get to know someone. The want, no, the yearning ache to be able to talk with Kac’ela once more was so strong, so powerful… it frightened him.

“You do?” Kac’ela inquired, surprised. “But I’m…” he trails off to stare at his hands. Manson can see him glaring at the white marks that cover his body. He seemed frustrated in them but forgot them quickly enough to peek back up at him. He bats his eyes shyly, “You want to see me again?”

“Of course I do,” Manson nods vigorously, “If that is okay,”

“It is okay. I just- w-where would you like to meet?”

“Anywhere,” Mason feels giddy. Kac’ela wasn’t saying no to this. Kac’ela was opening a chance for this. “I’ll go wherever you want to meet up,”

“Oh…” he starts to panic, running out of time to think of a nice spot to meet up with the Kever bell ringing, signifying they would be leaving the station any moment now. Inching towards the railing, he can’t seem to tear his eyes from Manny. “How about the uh… umm…. The bell tower steps?” he points to it.

Manson glances at it, nodding. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” He barely manages to step off before the Kever is moving again. Dashing towards the back to wave to Kac’ela, Manson clicks his teeth at a realization.

“Oh wait- when?!” he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled.

Kac’ela almost dropped his bag, realizing he forgot to say that, “Four! No- Five! Three!”

“Which one?!” Manson cackled

He barely hears Kac’ela yell, “One of them!” before they are moving around the buildings.  

“One of them, he says,” Manson leaned back against the railing, chuckling into his hand.

How funny.

Hmm, but this meant he would need to find a way to sneak out for a general three hours tomorrow. Dravla wasn’t going to be happy about this once he found out. But what did that matter?!

He was meeting up with a really beautiful being who seemed like a generally cool person! Was this what they called a gift from above?!?

What was he possibly going to wear tomorrow?! He couldn’t wear this same old robe tomorrow! He would seem like a hobo or something!

Ahhhhh, what was he going to do??

Day 1 (Kac’ela):

“I’m home,” Kac’ela steps into the house, closes the door, the slumps against it. He still feels weak in the knees from the gentle brush of lips to his knuckles. Who in the world was that smooth Coeihn? He hadn’t been able to see his face through the hood, but his smile was devious.

Kac slide against the door to the ground. Re-evaluating his life, attempting to put it back together after that encounter, he can feel something slide against his ankle.

He looked down and smiled, recognizing his pet Froas'tlac, Raver.

“Hey cutie~,” he cooed, lifting the slowly moving creature up to his shoulder. Raver purred against him, tapping at his horn affectionately. “Raver. Raver, guess what,” Kac made kissy faces at it. “I met someone today. A dark and mysterious figure with a charming sense to him. Is this Karma for giving you extra treats last week? Should I give more to you today and see if tomorrow turns out well?” he jokes.

Raver’s eyes stare at him blankly, his small brain not understanding a word. Kac makes a goofy face.

“Great talk,”

“Kac’ela?” there is a call to him from the kitchen. Jumping to his feet, he followed the voice.

“Welcome home, Kac,” Tellru smiles when he comes into the kitchen. Practically his sister, her family had taken him in when he lost his parents at a young age. He turned to her for everything,  “How was your day?”

Since it had been tough finding a job lately, Kac’ela had been living with Tellru for a few weeks. Not many were too keen on hiring someone with such strange birth defects. They all turned him away instantly.

Everyone except that Coeihn on the Kever. He said something no one had ever called Kac’ela before.

“A man on the Kever called me beautiful,” he tells her automatically. She freezes, and turns on her heels, almost dropping the pot of flowers she was moving over to the sink to water

“Excuse me?”

“A man… h-he called me beautiful. I was sitting next to him on the bus a-and then we started talking.” he rants to her, barely able to catch a breath between sentences, “A-And now we agreed to meet up by the bell tower tomorrow!”

“What?!” she gasped. “Are you serious?!”

“Yes!”

She takes his hands and starts bouncing, “This is wonderful news, Kac!”

“Is it?” He questions her, “I can’t tell! I can’t breathe!”

“That is good!”

“It’s good to suffocate?!” he wails.

“It’s good because you are getting choked up! Was he cute?!”

“I didn’t really see his face, he was wearing a hood!”

Without stopping in her bouncing, Tellru nods, “Okay, cool, but like- take a knife or something with you just in case the guys turns out to be a creep! But awesome news! My baby bro getting out into the world and meeting people!”

“Like you are one to talk,” he nudges her. “You are three years older than me and you still haven’t found yourself an equivalent,”

“I have my career to think about,” she huffs, “I don’t have time for any goo goo eyes or mushy love nonsense.”

“Right,’ Kac’ela rolls his eyes. “How is that going, anyway?”

“Work?” she shrugs, returning to her pot of flowers, “Well, nothing much yet. There hasn’t been a call for translators yet with the battles up South. Apparently, they have been having trouble transporting both people and cargo. No transportation means no prisoners. No prisoners mean no need for a translator.”

“I’m sure something will come up eventually,” Kac tells her.

She wrinkles her nose, “Honestly, talking to prisoners is draining. I’m not too upset if I get a few days off. I can actually use the time to help you pick a good outfit for your date tomorrow,”

“It’s not a- it’s kind of a date,” he mumbles, pressing his arm to the counter and watching Raver inch down it.

The second he touched the counter Tellru was yelling, “Ah! No no! Get that slime infested thing off,”

“It’s mucus,” he corrects.

She jabs her finger towards him in a warning gesture, “I. Don’t. Care. Get it off or I eat it for dinner tonight,”

“No fun,” Kac tears his baby from the counter and reattaches it to his arm. Raver sticks like glue, tailing with Kac into the next room.

“Hey,” Tellru voice resounds over the noise of the running sink. “You never told me this mystery guys name? I hope you at least asked for that!”

“I did. It’s Manny,”

“That short for something?”

“I dunno- I didn’t have time to ask.”

“Well, either way, I’m happy for you Kac. I hope this guy turns out to be a good one,”

Fiddling with his horn, Kac nodded to himself, “Me too,”

See what Manson and Kac’ela look like here!

https://smiles4voltron.tumblr.com/post/159910460046/just-working-on-my-anatomy-and-whatever-and

Froas’tlacs are like slugs XD Colorful sea slugs. 

https://smiles4voltron.tumblr.com/post/162500699541/ainawgsd-rainbow-of-sea-slugs-blue-this-is-what

My friend its-animalcrazy-love is the one who suggested what possible pet like creatures Coeihns might have and they suggested that they might look like these!

Next chapter: (link)