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misshoneyimhome · 11 months ago

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Imagine all the sexual tension between the OC and William at the work but she rejects his advances she's an intern kinda of a forbidden romance. I'm a sucker for OC's making him work for it and he's the type to be eye-fucking her all day and the guys chipping him. Would not be surprised if they end up sining at the locker room

God, I would die for this 🙈🤭 Just the mere thought of having Willy eye-fucking you from a distance... yes, please 😉

[btw, I hope it's ok I did this as 'you' and not as a third person]

This actually turned out a lot shorter than I expected 🙃

Warnings; mentions about sexual behaviour;

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Dreaming about the things that we could be I William Nylander 🖋️ (⚡️)

“You know, you could just ask if you needed help,” a smug face met yours as you looked up after dropping all your belongings on the floor.

“I’m all good Willy, but thanks,” you smiled up at the Swede, as you collected your things and rose from your kneeling position.

“Just saying, you can always ask for help,” William chuckled as he went along on his way to the training session.

And you couldn’t help but smile at his remark as you watched him wander down the hall.

William Nylander had an effect on you.

Though you didn’t always want to admit, he could really get to you. Not in a bad way. In a wonderful way. At any time of day, no matter where he could make you smile.

But you also knew that you had to remain composed and act professional around him.

You were an intern at the MLSE, which meant you spend quite the amount of time around the players of the Toronto Maple Leafs. And somehow, you’d grown a little closer to the Swedish forwarder.

William just always seemed to be around whenever you were around. You could always hear his wonderful laughter echo through the hallway, and he was always there to lend a helping hand if you needed it.

But you had to keep your distance. William was a hockey player, and you were working at the office, so you knew you weren’t supposed to get involved.

Yet, he always knew just how to push the boundaries. Every time you were doing any kind of work around the team, whether it’d be marketing jobs or making lists over equipment and travel schedule he’d find a way to be around you.

Because to him you were absolutely gorgeous.

Your smile had a way of brightening up his day even if everything seemed to fail, and your laughter could match his own heartfelt sounds. You were always incredibly stylish in your outfit, and it seemed like no matter what task was thrown your way you had a talent for finding a way to work it out.

Of course, you weren’t perfect, but to him you were.

Even on your most intense and stressful days, where you’d run around like a headless chicken, he’d find you so incredibly charming, and though he knew he had no abilities whatsoever to help you with your job, he’d always offer.

And every time you’d tell him no.

You couldn’t have him around more than necessary. Despite him always keeping his eyes on you from a distance, practically eye-fucking you with his piercing blue eyes, you had stand put.

However, William would naturally always test the waters.

Whether it was on the plane to the next away game, where he’d send you cheeky messages and then look in your direction, only to watch your reaction before you’d look up and notice his giant smirk. Or in the hallway before a match, where he’d come sneaking up on you, scare you and making you jump and shriek. Or those few times where he’d be one of the last one left in the locker room, and you’d entered without knowing him be there.

Once you even accidentally caught him butt naked. A sight of delight to be fair, but definitely unprofessional.

William of course only smirked at you following the situation, as he passed you in the hallway, making you all blush.

“Like what you saw?” he’d ask with a mischievous grin.

And trying your best to brush off the light embarrassment, you’d simply shrug. “I’ve seen better.”

“No, you haven’t,” he’d called you out before leaving the arena. And he was right.

His body was like sculptured for a Greek god. In your opinion he was the perfect balance of a toned, muscular athlete body mixed with thickness, showing his love for food. His big thighs were incredible, especially in those tiny shorts he’d always run around in. And when he did his interviews shirtless, or ran around without many clothes on, you couldn’t exactly complain.

But he didn’t need to know the effect he had on you. And he especially didn’t need to know that you’d touched yourself by the images of him in your head. That would give him way too much satisfaction.

But nonetheless, you were constantly around each other. And with William’s flirtatious behaviour, always around for a quick naughty remark, you knew it was becoming a dangerous territory.

Despite both being single and having the fully right to be intimate with others, there was a fine line called professionalism.

However, his teammates didn’t seem to care about that. Naturally they’d picked up on your exchanged glances, as William wasn’t exactly subtle in his flirting, and had encouraged him to just get it over with and fuck you brainless. But William had no intentions of doing so.

For starters, he didn’t want you to risk your job, which you’d worked hard to earn. And secondly, if he’d want to sleep with you, it wouldn’t just be a quick fuck.

He’d take his time with you. Properly explore every inch of your body, touch you gently over your soft skin, as he’d make his way to pleasure you orally.

He’d then use his large fingers to stretch your walls, making you prepared for his, what he’d considered, not so small cock. He’d make sure to make you come, intensely listening to the moans escaping your lips along with his name, as you’d coat his fingers with your sweet juices.

After licking them clean, he’d then proceed to enter your core. He’d fill you up gently, before he’d start rocking his hips, feeling every inch of your inner walls as he stimulated them.

He’d make sweet love to you; slowly and intensely build up your arousal which would eventually lead to both of you reaching your climax, letting himself release either into a condom if that’s what you wished, or preferably into your warmth, filling you up with his cum.

But that scenario wasn’t likely to happen for the time being, though William was sure that there was chemistry between you.

One evening, just before a match you were once again walking around helping the crew in order to get everything ready. And as the boys came in one by one you made sure to capture the walk-in photos.

And William was looking sharp as always.

Your eyes met in a brief moment as he walked by, and he couldn’t help but offer you a cheeky wink. But you merely shook your head and chuckled.

Then once in the locker room, the boys were naturally all over Willy again.

“Somebody’s finally in good time,” Auston announced with a grin.

“That’s just because he wants to impress y/n,” Mitch chimed in.

“And get a good look at her,” Jarnkrok teased further.

But William merely shook it off with a laughter. Though it might just hold a little bit of truth to it.

“I bet you also want to impress her with a goal tonight,” Auston spoke again with a mischievous smirk.

“Aus I always want to score a goal,” William smiled with a light laugh.

“Yeah, but this one’s going to be for her,” the Arizona forwarder wiggled his brows in a flirtatious manner, before the boys were interrupted by coach Keefe.

And as predicted, the Leafs managed to a secure a 3-2 win, with William scoring the game winning goal.

The players then slowly made their way out of the arena, leaving you and the rest of the staff to clean up and gather their stuff for upcoming road trip.

You were making your down the hallway, when you, as a few times before, then naturally walked into the locker room, eyeing William only in a towel by his stall.

“Shit Willy,” you exclaimed, quickly covering your eyes. “What are you still doing here?”

William merely let out a light chuckle, amused by your reaction to his state of lack of clothing.

“Well, the media took up more time than usual because I scored the last goal,” he explained with huge grin. “Come on, you can remove your hand, y/n - it’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

You could feel the warmth slowly coming to your cheeks while you were sure they were coloured a light pink shade, as you lowered your hand, and gently lay eyes on the handsome Swede in front of you.

His smirk was wide across his face as he caught your gaze, and you couldn’t help but put your lips lightly together before flashing him a sweet, almost innocent smile.

“Anyways… erm, will you be done… anytime soon?” You softly inquired, trying your best not to stare at his wonderful body. “So, we can finish up in here.”

“Do you need me to leave in order to finish up in here?” He flashed you a grin as he stood from his bench.

And as you contemplated his words, you merely shrugged. “I supposed not.”

And then you began to collect the equipment that needed to be packed by the staff from the first stall before moving to the next, and then slowly you made your way around while William was putting on clothes and finished getting ready.

Buy your eyes couldn’t help but look in his direction. As much as you tried not to glance at him, you simply couldn’t help yourself.

“Anything on your mind?” William teasingly inquired as he put the shirt over his head, purposely showing off his toned torso.

“Nothing about you,” you replied with a confident smile. Though that was a total lie and William sensed it.

“So, you’re not at all intrigued by what you just saw?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his overconfident expression. “No Nylander, I’m not intrigued.” Lie. “You know, just because you’re an attractive, successful hockey player, it doesn’t mean that every girl will just fall on their knees for you.”

Again, a lie. Right now, there was probably nothing more than you’d want to do than to just kneel and take him deep down your throat in order to please him. And since you knew you couldn’t because of your professional boundary, you thought why not try and push the limit a little.

But William was way ahead of you. Coming closer to stand right in front of you, completely invading your personal space, so you could smell his shampoo from his damped hair.

“Maybe not all girls…” he merely smirked. “But a lot.”

You let out a gentle huff.

“Well good for you Wonderboy,” you tried to remain composed as you looked up at him, arms crossed over your chest as you tried your best not to let your cunt drip in mere anticipation.

And William let out yet another soft chuckle.

“This is what I like so much about you,” he spoke gently, his fingers slowly tracing the sides of your arms. “You’re not like those girls… desperate and needy - no, you make me work for it, and fuck how much I want to touch you right now.”

You were killing him. And you’d been killing him for months.

But his words sparked new thought within you.

“Wait, you like me?” you softly inquired.

Though you knew that there was a certain chemistry between you, you hadn’t really thought that William actually had feelings involved.

And then his smug expression slowly faded a little and became softer as he gently nodded with a sweet smile.

“Of course, y/n… I’m fucking crazy about you.”

And now, here you were, all alone in the locker room, so close, so tempted, and yet you both knew that the fine line remained between you.

But then, another question popped into your mind.

“Would you want me any less… you know, if I let you touch me?”

Your voice was soft and tender, yet with a hint of seduction, your eyes searching his, while you gently bit your lower lip.

And William was slightly stunned by your question. He hadn’t really thought about it like that, but perhaps that’s because he would never want you any less. He’ll no! He had become the desperate and needy one. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to conceal it.

“No, never,” he merely responded, slowly leaning down a little, coming to share the air between you.

And as if all rational thoughts left your mind, you gave into the deep temptations, and gently straightened your position to stretch and close the gap between you as you gently connected your lips.

It was a heartfelt moment. William’s hands carefully sought your hips, putting a light pressure on them to pull you close, while your hands found his chest before sneaking their way up to his neck.

Your lips gently massaged each other, air escaping your lungs, as you leaned into the intimacy.

However, your moment was abruptly interrupted by a cough form the doorway, prompting you both to swiftly pull away. It was Brad you’d come to check up on you.

“I don’t think you’ll finish tonight’s work like that,” he cocked an eyebrow, causing you to slightly gasp for air as embarrassment showed on your cheeks, and you offered him an excusing nod before returning to your task.

And as Brad left the doorway, William couldn’t help but let out a laugh, earning you to do the same, as he came to place a gentle kiss on your neck.

“Come over to my place?” he timidly asked, making you turn your head just a little to flash him a smile and nod before he left the locker room. Both of you still adorning wide grins and satisfied smiles.

#william nylander imagine #wn88 imagine #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #intern x willy

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heliads · 9 months ago

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i've been big and small (and big and small again)

The Ferrari news drops. Sebastian has to know.

masterlist

Sebastian sounds amused over the phone. Even more so than usual, actually. It figures. Anyone would be pleased if the entire motorsport world was tearing itself to pieces to determine fact from gossip and you were the one man with the central cause of the hubbub on the other end of the line. Sebastian Vettel has always been territorial and deeply possessive of the men and teams he covets. This, by all accounts, is a win for him.

It’s a win for both of them. Lewis could have addressed the rumors earlier, certainly, he has known how to handle the PR side of racing for years, but this time around he liked the unsteadiness of it all. Lewis has kept a level head for much longer than he’s really wanted to, and now he gets to revel in the mystery. For once, everyone can chase after him instead of the other way around. No more begging for good cars or for anyone to listen to his suggestions. Hopefully.

Plus, keeping the secrecy alive was all but a guarantee that Sebastian would call. Lewis is not above teasing a married man by leaving him sly details about his future like digital breadcrumbs on a path to more transgressions than either of them would ever admit aloud. Lewis knows perfectly well what he’s doing, and Sebastian does too. If he goes too far– which, above all things, is their favorite habit– well, Maranello is closer to a certain estate in Switzerland than Brackley, at any rate.

“So,” Sebastian says, dawdling on the line, “I seem to recall that I did a surprise switch to Ferrari before you. If this is imitation, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“A compliment?” Lewis repeats, chuckling. “Of course you would.”

“How else should I take it?” Sebastian protests. “You’re following in my footsteps, it’s lovely. Only, I hope you do a better job of it than I did. My time with the Tifosi was unfortunately lackluster. Fernando’s was as well, so you’ve got two of us to show up.”

“What if mine is too?” Lewis asks. It’s a question that’s been gnawing at him for a while. There is, of course, the freedom in joining with a new team, the resurgence of a hope that’s been steadily decaying for a while, but fear comes with it, the fear that even a new team, new colors, new everything, won’t be enough to reclaim past glory.

Sebastian blows out a low breath, and the static of it crackles over the speaker. Lewis shifts his grip on the phone, cradling it so he can expose more of his skin to the digital current. “Will that matter?”

Lewis scoffs. “Of course it matters.” He’s a man of results. If they try to discredit you, you prove your worth by making it impossible to ignore you. Wins give you protection, world titles give you armor. Lewis cannot afford to be mediocre. His life is one of excellence or nothing.

“I had thought you would say that,” Sebastian tells him wryly, and Lewis can imagine the quietly sarcastic uptick of his smile.

“Am I that predictable?” Lewis asks.

“Well, apparently not, because Sky Sports is running around like a headless chicken,” Sebastian informs him. “But anyone in your position would wonder about what they were doing. Eleven years is a long time to leave behind.”

Lewis shuts his eyes. “I know that part.”

As if he hasn’t thought through it already. Committing to Mercedes was exhausting, but leaving it took far more energy and nerve than even he’d expected. Lewis knows what he wants, an eighth championship with Mercedes and then an opportunity to fuck off forever without being bothered ever again, but sometimes he doesn’t always get what he wants. He’s learned that with Sebastian too, in the form of a ring on his finger that haunts Lewis like a hand around his throat.

“And I know the rest,” Sebastian muses. “We all have to try, and we all have to fail. It’s inevitable.”

“Inevitable,” Lewis says disbelievingly. “I don’t believe you’ve ever thought anything was inevitable. You’ve fought for everything in your life, even when you didn’t have to.”

Lewis can imagine Sebastian’s proud grin even without seeing his face. “I like to make life exciting, yes.”

“Difficult,” Lewis amends. “You like to make life difficult.”

“I make life interesting,” Sebastian suggests. “Can we agree on that?”

“We can,” Lewis decides. “Now, come on, man. This is the part where you try to convince me that the Tifosi will change my life. Radicalize me with Forza Ferrari or whatever it is that you do. Or at least remind me that there will be substantially less porpoising. Distract me from leaving the W14 behind.”

“And Bono?” Seb asks, clearly indulging himself.

Lewis snorts. “Don’t bring up Bono,” he says, but he’s laughing, and blushing more than he’s laughing, and he figures Sebastian can probably tell that even over the phone, so. Not a whole lot of disguising that, then.

Seb chuckles fondly. “You’ll have others.”

“Yeah?” Lewis asks, not quite listening.

“Yeah,” Sebastian affirms. “And old friends, too. There’s a lot to enjoy at Ferrari.”

“Tell me,” Lewis says.

Sebastian’s breath hitches in his throat at the order. And then he talks, and Lewis listens, and the time passes. Rumors spread. Neither of them care.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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zebaji · 3 months ago

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Summary:

“You have a ranked list of the enemies you’ve faced?” Morro asks, and everyone shares a devious look with one another. Oh no , he thinks, but at that point, it’s too late.

“Of course we do!” Nya smirks, “How else do you think we cope?” She asks, and Morro stares at her, trying to see if she’s being serious. She is, Morro realizes, and while he should feel concerned, he was also on their list, so really, this was a problem they all needed to face.

Or: Morro is a zombie and the Ninjas decide to go on a road trip to turn him back into a human. Realizations and bonding ensue.

{This is one of the fics I'm doing for @morrotober's summer event :D The topic is road trip, but I couldn't help but add some plot and worldbuilding and all that fun stuff!

Fic is under the cut, let me know what you think!}

A Road Trip with a Reformed Evil Zombie

In all honesty, just the idea of having a road trip was something to dread about. But to actually commit to it– well Morro can’t promise if everyone is going to survive the week that it’s going to take to this so-called Temple of Life. And he isn’t even alive!

Oh, this was going to be a nightmare, Morro sulks as he watches Jay and Cole cram countless bags of luggage into the Land Bounty, and Kai and Zane fill a large chest with ice and food.

At least Wu wasn’t coming with them, thankfully– the old man had told him that he would clear out Morro’s old room into something fitting a living person before they came back from the temple. There were actually tears forming in Wu’s eyes when he said it, much to Morro’s disgust and shame.

He’s filled with disgust because Wu? Crying over him? Morro wanted to scoff and tell him to save the pathetic tears for someone worth crying for. The shame is because it was Morro who caused the sadness. He didn’t realize that Wu actually cared– Morro shakes his head, abruptly dismissing the many emotions going through him at an alarming pace, instead focusing his thoughts on watching these Ninja, who despite somehow managing to defeat him at his greatest, run around the monastery’s courtyard like hungry headless chickens.

If Morro were a better person, which he isn’t, he’d offer to help them pack up the Land Bounty and have them on their journey much faster than the pace they are currently at. However, he is more than content to watch them and bask in the sun’s heavy rays. He hasn’t felt the heat in so long it hardly bothers him that for everyone else it is sweltering and irritating to be outside. He isn’t a good person, despite what everyone seems to think, and has blatantly refused to use his wind to cool everyone down.

Never mind that his powers aren't working and he just isn’t telling people. No, it’s because he refuses to participate in this nonsense that the Ninja have determined is important– like bringing him back to life. He’s already somewhat alive, he doesn’t need to be any more!

But apparently, the Ninja have already made their decision, and now, they are going to make the journey to a temple nestled somewhere south, even more south than Metalonia, to a place where Wu is confident in bringing Morro completely back to life.

Because right now, he is simply a rotting corpse, one that isn’t exactly rotting– since he doesn’t smell or have flesh falling off of him with his every movement– but a corpse nonetheless. He can touch the bones in his chest and a portion of his skull, there are green veins of the poison running through the tattered remains of his skin, thick and matted black liquid that pours out of his poisoned green eyes if he forgets to blink.

All nuisances, he’d complained, ignoring the way he was quite literally grotesque to be even looked at for more than a few moments. He told himself he didn’t care. It was just remnants of his injuries in the Cursed Realm and then falling out of a portal that was trying its hardest to keep him from exiting, he told himself and the others. Nothing that was needed to make an entire week's worth of travel. But his argument had been ignored and everyone had begun preparing around him like he was a ghost again.

Morro doesn’t know how he feels about it all, and as such doesn’t move from his position, standing in the monastery’s courtyard as everyone finishes packing. He doesn’t bother to move, even as Lloyd walks up to him, carrying water bottles that he has been passing around to everyone in the heat. “Here,” He offers, and Morro warily takes the bottle.

He has mixed feelings about water– any person who had been a ghost for decades would be, especially when it had been the cause of his second death. But it also helped him realize that he wasn’t a ghost any longer, since Nya blasts him with water every time she feels like it. He thinks he’s gotten used to it, but every now and then it still stings like acid streaking up his limbs, mixing with the poison running in his veins, giving him another slow and painful death– Morro jolts from his musings when he remembers that Lloyd was here, waiting for him to take the bottle.

“Thanks,” He says uncertainly, and Lloyd gives him a small– almost knowing– smile as he walks away, back towards the others who are complaining about the heatwave.

Despite everything with the mad scientist and his zombie creations, Morro still doesn’t understand how Lloyd can handle being around him, let alone be kind to him. He doesn’t deserve it– something the other Ninja have vehemently agreed with him on at first, but after… after everything, with Morro sacrificing himself for the Ninja and becoming this half-monster– zombie– creature– thing, everyone seems to have forgotten how bad Morro used to be.

“We want to help you,” Lloyd had said after Morro had realized his powers were gone and he could feel the heat of the fire. When he could see bone in his fingers and could breathe in fresh air. A monster– and not just figuratively.

“Why?” He had demanded, whirling away from the mirror that he had been staring at for the past five minutes so that he could fully glare at Lloyd, only to falter when the Green Ninja didn’t even flinch at his decaying appearance. “I possessed you,” He hissed, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and guilt, when Lloyd finally paled and took a slight step back.

“I invaded your mind,” Morro continued, taking a step closer to the Ninja. “I almost killed you, ” He sneered, and Lloyd took a deep but shaky breath and stared back at him.

“You did,” He said plainly as if Morro had told him that he had broken a toy and not everything that he had done.

“So why do you want to help me? ” He demanded, shoving the hysterics somewhere deep in his ribcage. It was too bad that his ribcage was very visible and open at the moment.

“You saved me,” Lloyd had said, leaving no room for argument. “Sacrificed everything that the Doctor had promised you, to save me. From dying. From becoming like my father. An evil zombie–” Lloyd made a face, and Morro looked on, a brief flash of amusement on his face. After all, Morro had taken his place as this supposed, evil zombie. “Okay, sorry, just a zombie, but you get my point! I owe you. Maybe not my life, since y’know, I’m not exactly over everything that you did, but it’s enough to want me to help you.”

Morro had stared at Lloyd in silence– Forgiveness was not something he had been afforded in his very long undead life, and it was an odd feeling to gain it now. “Alright,” He said at last, and that had spurred the start of this…trip to the Temple of Life.

And now, preparations are complete and Morro is crammed into this boat on wheels with his once-enemies for the next few weeks. “You brought the portable stove right?” Nya asks, jumping into the driver’s seat. The others have strapped into the seats behind her, and everyone is unbelievably quiet. Morro hadn’t realized how tense the silence had been, but now that he does, he can see that everyone is on edge. He highly doubts it’s because of anyone other than him. He knew this was a bad idea.

Kai nods his head, either oblivious or trying his hardest to ease the tension. Most likely the latter. “And the propane, the grill, the lighter, the lighter fluid, and the charcoal for some reason. Honestly, Nya, just because I don’t have my powers doesn't mean I don’t know how to start a fire,” He rolls his eyes, and Morro is surprised that despite Kai’s loss of powers, he can still manage to joke about it. Morro is still in denial that his powers are gone because he is sure that the reason has something to do with his half-mortality. Not anything else.

Nya scoffs, her eyes focused on the road, as Wu and Pixal wave them off and they start to make their way out of the mountains. “Are you sure? We lived in Dad’s shop for how many years, and I still don’t think you can light a fire without matches.”

Kai glares at her, looking offended as he crosses his arms, “Master of Fire, Nya, I don’t need matches! ” He reminds her in a splutter, and everyone shares an amused look. From there, chatter breaks out, lighthearted and pleasant, and out of the corner of his eye, Morro can see Kai and Nya share a relieved look at each other.

Well, until Jay demands that everyone should start singing 99 Bottles of Tea and Kai lets out a strangled scream and launches himself out of his seat to tackle Jay. Morro blinks at the scene and sighs when Zane is the only one to try and separate the two– everyone is too amused to even try.

Lloyd suggests they play eye-spy, a game that people play on long trips, but the leader of the Ninja forgets who he’s playing with, and Morro watches for the next hour as everyone competes to find the most mundane thing they can spot and get away with.

“Something yellow,” Cole says confidently, staring at the Desert they have just entered.

“Is it sand?” Morro asks dryly, “Or the sun? Because that’s the only thing outside right now.”

Cole sniffs and points to the bright yellow exit sign. After they pass the sign, there really isn’t much other than the sand and sun. No one wants to play anymore, which Morro is thankful for– until Zane starts reading his book about Ninjago out loud, and has everyone groaning silently in their seats.

Morro is silent for the next few hours, watching as the landscape turns from the familiar mountains into a dry desert. How big was the Desert of Doom? He didn’t remember it being this vast, Morro glares at the sand as if it's the desert's fault that his memory is failing him.

“Y’know, I used to live here,” Jay tells him casually, as the sun sinks to the ground, and Nya stops at a nearby rest stop so that they can stretch, eat, and swap drivers. Lloyd and Zane are out looking for a vending machine to get snacks, and Kai is pulling out the portable stove, while Cole and Nya are outside clearing up a picnic bench for all seven of them. “Before I became a Ninja. They run a junkyard, though it’s closer to the city than where we are right now.”

Morro casts a look at the Master of Lightning. He knew the previous one– Libber, he remembers wistfully. The only one who hung out with him, even though he was being an asshole to all of Wu’s other students. “I didn’t know Libby was still alive,” He says quietly, his voice hoarse and crackly. Jay’s eyebrows fly up, “Libby?” He repeats, sounding confused as he hands Morro two folded-up camping chairs.

Morro frowns, “Libber? The previous Master of Lightning? The person who gave you your powers?” He says, feeling like he’s missing a crucial piece of information as the two of them carry the chairs to the picnic bench. The weather is nice– which is a pleasant surprise considering that they’re in the desert. It’s even a little windy, which makes his long and tangled hair flutter slightly. It’s nice– really nice.

“You knew my bio mom?” Jay pauses and eyes Morro with surprising intensity, and if he could turn red, he probably would have. Even still, he feels the back of his neck warming.

“I mean, I wouldn't exactly say I knew her. I didn’t really have friends back then,” Morro coughs nervously, grimacing when tar fills his mouth. “And besides, she was either hanging out with Lily and Obra, or on dates with Gordon– some upstart actor who had this weird obsession with pudding cups– wait, did you say ‘bio-mom?’” Morro pauses, almost losing his grip on the chairs as he stares at Jay, who’s shrugging at him sheepishly.

“Uh, yeah. I found out I was adopted a few years back– and the only person who knows is Nya. I figured that if Wu hadn’t brought up knowing the person who had lightning before me in the decade I’d known him, then he wouldn’t know either,” Jay says bitterly.

Morro can’t say he’s surprised. “Well, that’s Wu for you,” He says, his own bitterness creeping out. “Never says the things he should, and says the things he shouldn’t.”

Jay snorts in understanding, “Yeah, well. Me and Nya tried to find stuff on her, but we never found anything. I didn’t even know her name,” Jay is quiet, and Morro understands. He knows what it’s like to know nothing about the people who were supposed to care and yet didn’t, and being desperate for an answer.

“If you want, I can tell you what I remember about her,” Morro offers, startled by how he genuinely means it. Maybe it’s just because he understands, or maybe it’s because he finally has a heart beating inside of him for the first time in 70 years. Whatever it is, Jay gives him a sincere smile. “That would be awesome. Thank you.”

Morro nods with a shrug, and they join the others; Kai is grilling something on the small stove– the smell of sizzling meat wafting through the air, and Morro absentmindedly wishes he had a complete stomach so that he could eat– and Lloyd and Zane have returned with a pile of chips and drinks.

There aren’t a lot of people milling around– it is late at night in the middle of nowhere– so it’s quiet and peaceful. Relaxing and soothing– something that Morro hasn’t felt in decades, and casting a quick glance at his companions, they haven't had in a while either.

“Alright!” Kai says a few moments later, grinning as he waves a spatula in the air, “Burgers are done!”

“I think I speak for everyone that this is the best quest we’ve had in a while,” Cole says as they all load their plates with food. “Honestly, this feels more like a vacation than anything–”

“Don’t jinx it!” Jay interrupts with a yelp and goes to knock on the wooden bench. “If some rabid beetle named Bernie pokes out of the sand again, I’m feeding you to it!”

The group goes silent, and Morro looks around, once again feeling like he’s missing something vital before everyone bursts into wild laughter. “Bernie?” He asks uncertainly to Zane, who at least manages to choke down his chuckles to explain.

“The last time we were in the Desert of Doom, an ancient beetle named Beohernie attacked us and ate the Thermolytic Kinetic Inverter, which resulted in me retrieving it from the beetle’s stomach,” Zane explains like half of any of those words means anything to Morro. “Jay nicknamed it Bernie.”

“But the only reason it attacked us is because we were being reckless and were driving off of the road,” Cole jumps in, no doubt reading Morro’s unimpressed look. “We’ll be safe on the path we’re on.”

“Knowing your luck, I highly doubt it,” He says dryly, and the Ninja don’t even bother to argue, instead just laughing harder.

“At least with this quest, you’re the worst thing we’ll have to deal with,” Lloyd says, still grinning wildly, even if Morro wanted to take offense, his guilt won’t allow him that, so he offers a small smile instead.

“Uh yeah, Morro– I think out of all the villains we’ve faced, you’re top five. You’re actually scary so if we have to deal with some like… I don’t know. Ultra Violet or the Mechanic? You’re dealing with them,” Jay informs him, and Morro’s eyebrows raise in curiosity, as he ignores the reminder of once being a ‘villain’.

“You have a ranked list of the enemies you’ve faced?” He asks, and everyone shares a devious look with one another. Oh no, he thinks, but at that point, it’s too late.

“So am I at least top three?” He asks instead, and Lloyd raises a hand.

“For me you are,” He says, grinning at Morro like that was a sentence to be smiling at. Which it wasn’t. These people are crazy, Morro thinks, before once again remembering where and who he is. But so am I, He sighs to himself and gestures for Lloyd to continue.

“It’s Harumi, you, and then Dad,” Lloyd lists off, and Morro should not be this surprised over the revelation. But he’s beating Lord Garmadon? Nice.

“I’m beating your dad?” He clarifies out loud with a snicker, and Lloyd shrugs, taking a bite out of his burger.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How? Can I ask what the criteria are?” He dares to ask, and Lloyd grins again and shakes his head.

“Nope.”

“But I’m winning?”

Lloyd shoots him a look, although his lips betray a smile. “This isn’t a competition!”

Morro raises his hands in surrender, “You’re making it sound like it is!”

Lloyd snags a chocolate bar from the table, “My trauma, not yours,” he mutters, his mouth full of candy.

Nya grins sagely in agreement, “For me, you're like top four,” She shrugs, and Kai nods with her. Jay shrugs, “I don’t know, I think he’s my fifth one?”

“Morro’s my third too,” Cole says, and Zane agrees with him.

“Thanks, I think?” Morro grins uncertainly.

“Again, this isn’t a competition,” Lloyd grumbles, but he doesn’t seem too put off by the rankings.

Cole pats Morro gently on the shoulder, “It’s alright, he’s just mad because he’s my number one villain,” He says with a wide grin. “After all, he did release the Serpentine and made our lives miserable for five years straight.”

Lloyd chucks the candy bar at Cole and then immediately dives after the bar before it can hit the ground. “I was ten! ” Lloyd screeches on the muddy floor, as everyone bursts into laughter once more. “I was ten, and you hung me up a pole! What was I supposed to do?”

“Not release the Serpentine!” Cole laughs as he leans back in his seat. From there on out, the rest of the meal is the Ninja trying to tell Morro the most ridiculous story they have– the best one Morro has heard is, “When the Ninja turned into children.” He had seen it vaguely in Lloyd’s memories, back when he was… possessing him, but the tale is much funnier when Kai and Jay do their squeaky voices, and Lloyd goes into extreme detail about the Fritz Donnegan competition.

So this is what peace feels like, Morro notes, as the Ninja’s laughter is the only sound around them. Everyone else at the rest stop is gone, and there is a faint buzz of insects around them. The sky is clear and he can see the stars so clearly, it’s almost jarring. Wind flutters around them– or in Morro’s case, through him, and it’s a pleasant night to be outside.

But then everyone is yawning and packing up, and Zane is offering to take the next shift so that everyone who requires sleep can get it. Morro doesn’t think he needs to sleep and doesn’t say much as everyone bids their goodnights and ducks into the back of the Land Bounty where all the bunks are.

It’s an hour after Cole, the last person to disappear into the back, leaves, and Zane eyes Morro, who is sitting next to him in the passenger seat. “Perhaps you should at least try–”

“I’m not going to sleep,” Morro cuts in with a scowl. “Don’t even start.”

Zane nods his head slightly, and they fall into silence once more. Morro watches as they pass a single car, small lights that grow and grow until they cross paths, and then the road is only lit by their own headlights once again. It feels oddly lonely, and now Morro’s desperate for any noise or proof of life that isn’t just him.

“Have you ever done this before?” He asks. Zane gives him a questioning look, his glowing eyes boring into Morro’s side. He shifts uncomfortably. “Like, have you, gone on a long trip before?”

“A few times,” Zane says with a shrug, returning his sights back to the road. “Not as peaceful as this, however. Usually, it’s because we’re attempting to save the day or something along those lines.”

“So you don’t have…vacations?” Morro asks, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. Cole had said it earlier, and it had been bouncing around in his mind for a while. “You don’t just explore Ninjago because you want to? Just have the roads take you around the realm you’re supposed to be protecting?”

“It would be nice to travel without worry. Sounds idyllic in a way,” Zane is quiet, the metallic ring in his voice disappearing for a moment, and Morro catches sight of a billboard that looks like it’s about to fall off. In faint letters, the sign read: Sylvia’s Splashy SuAquarium. 10 Exits Away.

“You ever gone to those sad little roadside attractions?” Morro asks, refusing to let his voice fall into nostalgic territory when he remembers going to that weird fortune-telling lady who loved selling bad advice to Wu. “Ones that leave you wondering why people decided to make that their entire life’s work?”

Zane catches him staring at the billboard, “I have not. But it would be interesting to explore. Perhaps on our way back, we can go?” He offers, and Morro shakes his head and leans back in the seat.

“I mean we can if you and the others want to, but I don’t think I want to do water,” He says, just as they pass another billboard, this time for some alien museum exhibit. “Maybe we could do something like that,” he points towards the sign. “The others would probably get a kick out of that.”

Then Morro wonders when he started to care about what the others would like.

Zane laughs, oblivious to Morro’s realization. “True,” he says. And then, “Do you mind if I put on a podcast? I haven’t been this far south before, and I’d like to know what we could encounter.”

Morro shrugs, “Go for it. It might be nice to know what has happened since I was dead.” He rests his head in his palm, as Zane presses a button, and a slow and evenly paced voice comes out of the speakers, talking about some forest that they’ll probably drive through later that week.

His eyes droop downwards, as the desert finally becomes more mountains, and he’s asleep before the sun rises.

+*+

Two days later, they’re driving through the Forrest of Luminescence, and Morro is reminded of the deep ocean, with no sky in sight, leaving the world around them dark and mysterious. The trees and plants all glow in different colors; blue, pinks, and greens, pulse as the Land Bounty’s lights brighten up their path. He thinks he spots a few birds, but they could be fish for all he knows. This place is unlike anything he’s ever seen.

“Dibs on taking out the bike,” Nya shouts, jolting everyone out of their awed stupor. She’s out on the deck before anyone can process her words, but when they do, everyone shoves against each other, all desperate to get to the other bikes that made their way onboard.

Morro watches, once again wondering how absolute children managed to defeat him, and shakes his head when he hears cackling and shouting echoing from upstairs on the deck.

Cole– who is driving, and cannot participate in all of this– also shakes his head, but Morro suspects it's for a different reason than him. “I want to go, Zane can you take over?” Cole asks, and Zane rolls his eyes before returning to the book he’s reading.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Engines roar in the quiet and Morro spots four motorbikes racing ahead of the Land Bounty a few moments later. Cole drops his head in defeat, “Aww man,” He complains, and the Land Bounty speeds up to keep up with the other vehicles.

Morro snorts, “Did you not bring enough for everyone?” He asks, and Cole shakes his head, just as Zane puts his book down and excuses himself to call Pixal and start lunch– grilled cheese sandwiches and a large garden salad.

“Only a few so if in case we were stranded or needed to get someplace where the Bounty couldn’t– we wouldn’t be stuck like last time.”

Morro nods his head, “Makes sense. Back… Back before I first managed to escape the Cursed Realm, Bansha taught us how to kill inanimate objects. It’s how Wrayth turned that motorbike into the bike that followed you to the train station.” he says, ignoring the way Cole eyes him nervously.

“While turning bikes into ghosts is super cool, in a super creepy way– You can’t do it anymore right?” He asks, and Morro shrugs, smirking slightly.

“Who knows?” He says mysteriously. “I am part ghost after all.”

“Not for much longer,” Cole points out, his eyes briefly flickering to Morro before staring back in front of him.

“Yeah,” Morro says quietly. He still doesn’t know how he feels about that if he’s being honest with himself. Mortality was not a good look on him after all– how many times had he died?

“After the Day of the Departed,” He starts, only to falter, feeling oddly hesitant. He shouldn’t be, he tells himself angrily. He had helped the Ninja fight against the mannequin-ed versions of their previous enemies and Sensei Yang. He had been helpful. He did good.

And yet, Cole had turned back into a human that day. Morro had died again, possessing a doll that looked eerily like him. He feels bitter and doesn’t have enough willpower to dampen the feeling.

“What was it like turning back into a human?” He says, his voice sounding strangled. “You didn’t exactly have this in-between state like I do. How painful was it for you?”

Cole is silent, guiding the Bouty to trail after Kai’s bike. “I wasn’t a ghost for as long as you,” he says finally, as the sky finally peaks its way through the dense trees. “It just felt like a super long nightmare. Something that didn’t feel real. But I still sometimes freak out about water,” he laughs deprecatingly. “And I still run into walls.”

Morro nods, that part made sense– he's only had this decaying flesh for less than a month and keeps forgetting that he now has bones and muscles and can no longer float with the wind.

“And I guess, adjusting to eating and drinking again was rough. And showering– oh man, I’d forgotten how nice it was to feel clean, ” Cole continues, and Morro grimaces. In his partially alive body, he still didn’t have the need or desire to do basic human necessities, but he supposes he should be mentally preparing himself for that. Human, he thinks, allowing for some wonder to enter his thoughts. It has been a while– and Morro isn’t sure that he’s ready to be whole and real again.

“But don’t worry dude,” Cole says, seemingly understanding his thoughts. “You’ll get the hang of it. And we’ll be here to help if you want it,” He says, and Morro hates that his vulnerability is that readable, but doesn’t say anything. There isn’t much point, anyway.

“Thank you,” he says, and wonders if he means it. He doesn’t know.

Zane comes back, looking cheerful. “I’ve informed Pixal on our whereabouts and made food,” he says, pressing a button on the large dashboard. “Food is ready if you want to come back on board or if you would like to stop,” he tells the Ninja on the bikes. Cole takes control of the button. “And so we can swap drivers!”

Lloyd’s voice crackles back, giving them the affirmative, and in ten minutes everyone is back on the Bounty, digging into their lunch. Morro looks on, and wonders if the food quality has improved since the last time he ate– which was almost seventy years ago. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, becoming human.

+*+

“I should have known that this wouldn’t have been a peaceful trip!” Kai seethes, as he uses his sword to cut a path through the dense jungle. Morro trails after him, 50% sure that they are walking in the wrong direction.

“Seriously! Were you expecting to be ambushed by goblins?” Kai whirls around and looks at Morro as if he expects Morro to say yes. “I didn’t even know goblins existed in Ninjago!” He continues, ignoring Morro’s reply, not that Morro gave him one.

“I don’t they’re called goblins,” Morro finally juts in, as Kai wipes away the sweat from his forehead. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

Kai stares at him for a minute, “Are you… being serious? They literally chased us away from the Bounty calling us demons, and you want me to be nice to them?” He asks bewildered, and Morro sighs, tilting his towards the sky and regretting literally all of his life choices. All of them. Even the good choices that he’s made were not that great if this is where he has ended up.

“Obviously I’m not being serious, I took care of them, remember?” he drawls out the words slowly, rolling his eyes, and then wipes at his face with a scowl when the black liquid starts leaking out of the corners of his eyes. His vision is already impaired, he doesn’t need to be completely blind, he grumbles to himself, cursing how irritating it was to be in between life and death. He didn’t mind either side, he’s finally determined to himself– but toeing the line? It’s really bothersome.

“Yeah about that– remember that you agreed to the no-killing rule?”

“An odd way of saying thank you, but I’ll take it,” Morro snips back, smirking when Kai shoots him a disgusted look but goes silent anyway.

The two of them resume walking, and Morro’s confidence in Kai taking them back to the Bounty dwindles with the setting sun. “Do you have any idea of where you’re going?” He snaps, suddenly losing all of his patience– which to be fair, isn’t a lot as it is– and Kai levels Morro with a glare of his own.

“It would be a lot easier if you could just float over the trees and see where the Bounty is,” He snaps back, and Morro narrows his eyes– ignoring the reminder that he was powerless.

“Oh, sure. Like I’ll be able to see anything in the dark,” He crosses his arms, and Kai scowls at him, no doubt reading the underlying statement. Won’t be able to see at night, even if your companion is the Ninja of Fire.

“Come on,” Morro snaps, pushing past him. “We don’t want to lose any more daylight, because we’ll be useless in an hour.”

“Low blow, dude,” Kai growls, but Morro shrugs, continuing through the jungle. “Especially since you don’t have your powers either, do you?” Kai says it like he’s won a game, and Morro bristles silently, but he doesn’t turn around. He won’t take the bait. He’s better than that.

“Because, back before you came out of the portal machine, you practically created a tornado anytime something ticked you off,” Kai continues, and Morro keeps his lips tight. “And now I don’t even feel a breeze.”

Morro doesn’t say anything. Unfortunately, that doesn’t deter Kai. “You could have told us– It’s not like it’s not just you who doesn’t have their powers,” he accuses, and as the last streaks of light in the sky start to fade, Morro frowns and whirls around– his patience evaporating in the wind, no pun intended.

“And what,” He grits his teeth, desperately trying to keep his cool– a hard feat to do with the Ninja of Fire– “Do you think you would have done? That’s right, nothing. I know how this works– I need to regain my powers by overcoming my fear or some crap like that– something which I can’t control!”

“What do you mean? You know why your powers are gone?” Kai asks peering at him with almost knowing eyes, and Morro scoffs, resuming their trek.

“I’m comfortable being a ghost and I’m comfortable being a human. Being stuck as both at the same time is a painful experience and I have hated every second of it. As soon as we get to this temple, and I become a human, I’ll have nothing holding me back and my powers will return,” He says, not leaving any room for doubt. He refuses to believe anything other than that is the cause for his loss of power.

“Careful dude, you’re sounding like a supervillain again,” Kai warns lightheartedly, no doubt trying to ease the suddenly heavy mood, and Morro stares at him stoned-faced. Kai shrugs undeterred, “But are you sure that’s really why they're gone?”

“Of course it is,” Morro dismisses, spotting something glowing in the distance. “What else could it be?”

“Okay,” Kai says, sounding uncertain, but then he spots the glowing lights too. “What is that?”

Morro squints, shouldering past a few more trees to come closer to a building with flashing lights and a sign for… gas prices?

“Is that a gas station?” Kai demands, standing next to him. “In the middle of the freaking jungle?”

Yes. Yes, there is.

It looks like a normal gas station that he’d probably find in the cities, which is jarring, considering the jungle landscape that spreads over most of the southern parts of the realm. There is even a road in front of the establishment, with a car parked to the side of it. All the gas pumps are vacated, but the point is that there is a station with no other civilization surrounding it. They could have at least added a restaurant next to it, or something.

Kai shrugs nonchalantly, “Eh, I’ve seen weirder. But I swear if it’s run by greedy cultist goblins who think we’re demons, I’m going to lose it,” he mumbles as he stalks towards the station.

Morro trails after him, feeling wary of it all as they get closer– or maybe it was because of the decent gas prices. Despite being born before cars were even a thing, and having no idea what the ideal gas rates should be, he’s heard enough of Zane’s grievances to know that gas was more expensive than ever before.

“And what are you hoping to accomplish?” He asks as they cross the paved road. “I don’t exactly think there’s a strong enough signal here to call the others.”

“Might as well ask,” Kai says cheerfully, as they open the door, and a small bell chimes. “Who knows, maybe the goblins have long-range!”

“I highly doubt that,” Morro tries to say, but gets interrupted by high high-pitched scream. They both whirl around and immediately duck as a bag of chips gets thrown their way.

“DEMONS!” The cashier screams and Kai bristles, brandishing his sword at the counter, as if about to charge.

“We are NOT demons!” He shouts back, and Morro groans as Kai prepares to launch himself at the screaming glimmering pink-purple goblin.

“No wait,” Morro grabs Kai’s shoulder and takes a step forward. “No killing, remember?”

“That was a rule for you, not me,” Kai mutters under his breath but crosses his arms. Morro rolls his eyes, “I’ve got this,” he says and takes a smooth step in front of Kai.

The cashier takes a step backward in response and raises another bag of chips over their head. “Stay back, demon,” they warn with a shaky voice. Morro ignores this and walks around the counter.

“Actually I’m a zombie,” Morro clarifies, letting his eyes bleed green and as he steps closer and closer to the poor shaking cashier, he feels tar dripping down his cheeks. The cashier hits the wall and lets out a quiet squeak. Morro grins, and a louder squeak rings in the empty gas station. Oh, how he missed scaring people.

If only he had his powers to knock down the shelves and cause the building to rumble with the power of his wind. Ah well, you win some, you lose some. Behind him, Morro can hear Kai sighing in impatience. Rude.

“Wh-What do you want?”

He has to strain to hear the question, and Morro shrugs. “Can I borrow your phone?” he asks, and that sentence is what makes the cashier pass out. Morro blinks and takes a step back in surprise.

“Oh great,” Kai grumbles, as he snags a yellow chip bag off the rack, and aggressively opens it. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Morro tosses his hands in the air, “You were about to kill them!”

“No, I wasn’t! And I didn’t loom over them like I was evil, either!” Kai points out, hands full of potato chips.

“I didn’t loom,” Morro crosses his arms indignantly, knowing full well that he was. “I was just asking to borrow their phone!”

“Yeah. By looming,” Kai rolls his eyes and picks up the phone sitting on the counter, quickly pressing numbers as he munches on the chips. “Check on the goblin while I call the others, and hopefully we’ll be gone before they wake up. I refuse to get chased in the jungle this late at night.”

Morro spares a glance at the passed-out goblin that probably was going to wake up any moment now and shrugs. He’s pretty sure if he even looks at the cashier’s direction, then they’ll probably pass out again. “I’ll grab some snacks too,” he decides to stall and grabs a bag before stuffing it with chips and candy.

“Don’t steal!” Kai hisses at him, his head tilted to keep hold of the phone as he finishes off the bag of chips that he most definitely did not pay for.

Before Morro can point out the blatant hypocrisy, the call goes through, and Kai’s face brightens. “Heyyy, Nya!”

Morro watches in bemusement when Kai’s face immediately falls as he winces and tugs the phone slightly away from his ear. “We’re at some gas station,” Kai explains in a rush. “Yeah! It was the goblins!”

Morro lets Kai deal with his angry sister and then the cashier stirs, and Morro opens one of the refrigerators in the wall, pulling out a bottle of water. Before he can hand them the bottle, he makes a mistake and locks eyes with the poor thing, and the cashier lets out another squeak before slumping back down.

He just puts the bottle next to them and goes back to wandering the store, looking at the odd trinkets and postcards that decorate the wall. It’s all jungle-themed, and he wrinkles his nose just staring at the cartoon figures of animals.

“ETA is like, five minutes,” Kai says, putting down the phone. “Boy, she is not happy with me, as if it was my idea to get chased down by crazed goblins,” he mutters, and glares at the two bags of candy and chips Morro is holding. “No,” He says flatly. “We don’t have any money! And that’s way more than just a small bag of chips.”

Morro snorts, “It’s funny that you think that you have any control over me. And besides, they called us demons– I think it's fair we reward ourselves. It’s not like we’re robbing them of their money.”

“By stealing their merchandise? Like that makes any sense,” Kai raises a brow, and Morro shrugs, putting a keychain that has the letter M in the bag.

“Better than you driving a sword through their chest.”

“I can hear you!” An indignant yelp rings through the building and the two of them turn around to face the dazed-looking goblin. “Demons! What have I done to deserve this punishment?” They wail loudly, and Morro gestures a hand at them, and looks at Kai to say, ‘see?’

“We’re really not,” Kai’s face shifts from anger to blankness, trying to go for patience and failing miserably, but Morro can applaud him for trying.

The cashier points at Morro, “His face is falling off! His eyes are bleeding black! I can see his inside of him,” the poor goblin shouts hysterically. They’re not wrong… and Morro can concede that he may indeed look like a demon. Still doesn’t explain why Kai was chased though. Maybe it’s the gelled-up hair?

“We’re working on it,” He shrugs, just as a large beam filters through the store, and the distinct outline of the Land Bounty becomes visible. Perfect, the Ninja are right on time.

“Fine,” He says, making something up. “You have survived this encounter. I won’t… ‘demon-ize’ you? But I’m taking these bags with me,” He heaves up the grocery bags, and Kai’s loud exasperation does nothing to cover the sigh of pure relief and the rushed nod the cashier gives him.

The two of them walk out of the gas station, Morro triumphantly holding out his spoils of war to the waiting Ninja. “We got snacks!”

Every other face stares back at him unimpressed, except Cole, who grins and says, “What did you get?”

+*+

There is a child sleeping on him.

Okay, well Lloyd’s not technically a child, since he’s as old as everyone else, but Morro has quite literally been in his mind, and to him, Lloyd is still and will always be an absolute child.

Honestly, who eats five candy bars in two minutes? A child, that’s who, Morro grumbles in his mind, but doesn’t dare move an inch on the couch to escape his fate.

This is his fault– he sighs to himself, because had he not taken the bags of snacks from the gas station, Lloyd wouldn’t have been able to end up in a sugar coma, and therefore would not be using Morro as the world's most uncomfortable pillow.

He doesn’t even know how this happened, one moment they were all watching a movie that Jay had put on, and the next, the person he possessed was in his lap, snoring away. The worst part is that everyone else is asleep, wrappers and stray chips littering the ground, as Nya drives for a few more hours up in the front.

This is uncomfortable, Morro decides. He would very much like to be out of this situation. “ Lloyd,” he says as loudly as he can in a whisper, poking a boney finger into the Green Ninja’s side. “ Wake up! ”

Lloyd moves slightly, mutters something incoherent, and snores again.

Morro groans, feeling himself start to panic. He doesn’t want to move Lloyd, but he also doesn’t want to be stuck here.

“Lloyd, can you please wake up? Just for a second, and you can go back to sleep. All you have to do is roll over,” He begs, but it’s to no avail. Oh, why couldn’t Lloyd have fallen asleep on someone else– like Kai! He was right there and was no doubt a much better option than Morro!

A blinding light flashes in his face, blinding him, and when Morro can see again, he sees Nya grinning at him, holding out her phone. Did she just… Morro stares at her in dawning horror.

“Delete it!” He demands with a scowl, but she just smothers her laughter as she takes another picture.

“Oh no, buddy. This is revenge for literally everything,” She says gleefully, and while Morro supposes that while he deserves the picture, he doesn’t deserve to be slept on.

“At least get him off of me!”

Nya shakes her head, “Suffer,” She looks a little manic when she says it, but Morro refuses to become deterred.

“I’m like the last person he should be doing this to,” He whispers loudly to her when Cole shifts in his sleep on the floor. “I have literally tried to kill him. Multiple times!”

Nya, who has killed Morro once, doesn’t seem to be too worried, which is actually so concerning. “Are you going to kill him now?” She asks, and Morro stares at her a little crazed.

Was she insane? “Are you insane?” He asks out loud. “No!”

She rolls her eyes and shrugs, “Then it’s fine.”

No, no, no, this was not fine. Maybe Nya was sleep-deprived and needed sleep to think properly. Because this was definitely not a good idea.

“Nya, you need to kill me right now before he wakes up and kills me himself,” He hisses at her, “Use a knife, water, poison, whatever,” He pleads, and she rolls her eyes.

“Stop being such a drama queen. He’ll wake in,” She glances at her wrist, one that doesn’t have a watch on it. “Oh, I don’t know, five hours from now?”

Then she freaking walks away, “Nya?” He whisper-shouts. “Nya! Come back!”

But she’s gone and Morro is stuck. This is not what he envisioned when they had planned this journey out. He glares at Lloyd’s sleeping form half-heartedly, “When you wake up, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens.

Lloyd just lets out another snore, leaving Morro in disgust and helplessness that he’s never known before. Ah, well perhaps he could put himself in a sugar comma, he thinks, reaching for a candy bar. Perhaps it’ll be less miserable that way.

Spoiler, it isn't.

+*+

But somehow, in some way, there are no other problems reaching the Temple of Life. Not that Morro’s complaining.

The temple itself is in complete disarray, with crumbling walls and columns smothered in ivy. It’s also super quiet, the only noise is their footstep pattering against the ancient stone. He wonders how long ago this temple was built and how long ago someone walked amongst these halls. In a sense, this place feels as much a ghost as he does. Teetering the edge of here and not, it feels… familiar. And isn’t that a scary thought?

Thankfully, it’s not as dark as Morro thought as they walk through the temple– a part of the roof has caved in, and streams of sunlight brighten their way. Not that they know where they’re going– Wu was unsurprisingly very vague on this part of their trip.

“Are we sure this is the place?” Jay asks, right before they find the central room. Then there’s no point in responding.

“Oh yeah,” Cole breathes, as they all stare in wonderment. “Definitely in the right place.”

Morro hums in agreement, as he takes in the room around him. He’s never known a place to be so full of green and brimming with… well, life.

Despite being in the center of a rocky barren land where there are only the harsh waves that crash over jagged rocks and frantic winds that whip across the mountains in a violent scream, nature runs wild here.

Lush plants and trees sprout from the grassy ground and curl around the walls as if creating an illusion of being back in the jungle. It definitely feels that way too, with wildlife walking through the room without care for predators, but something’s missing. Everything seems too still, too quiet.

“Hey, Look at this!” Lloyd points to some pedestal on the edge of the room. While it looks just as aged with time as the temple, it’s not decorated with vines or crumbling with disuse. It’s polished and glowing, and a few inches above the stone hovers a ball of flaming fire.

Morro hears Kai exhale sharply as they all gather around the pedestal. “It’s calling to me,” he murmurs, holding a hand over the ball of fire. His hand flexes and the ball turns into a large flame, sparks fluttering from out of his fingers and dancing across his palms. Kai breaks into a large smile, taking a step back to punch a large blast of fire into the air.

“We are back, baby!” He shouts gleefully, letting more bursts of fire out of his palms. “I’m not using lighter fluid ever again!”

Zane frowns, “But how?” he asks, and Kai shrugs. “I don’t know. It felt like a reminder, I guess. Of where my powers should be.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” he declares, but before Kai can continue, Nya points at something behind Cole.

“Look, there’s more,” she says, and they all follow her finger to where another pedestal stands, this time holding a ball of rock.

A few feet farther from that, there’s a ball of water. Then a ball of electricity. A ball of ice. The more Morro looks for the pedestals, the more he sees. “These are all of the elements,” he realizes.

“All of them?” Lloyd asks skeptically and starts to walk around the room, and Morro follows him, searching for his own powers, but stops in front of a ball of golden energy. “Huh,” Lloyd says, staring at the ball, stupified. “How is this possible?” He asks, poking at the ball hesitantly. It flashes green momentarily before going back to a glowing gold.

“The First Spinjitzu Master,” an old voice says behind them.

Everyone jolts out of their awe, and are quick to draw their weapons at… another goblin. A lot older than the ones they have already encountered with long white hair and a staff that could probably make Wu jealous, but still have the same shimmery pink-purple color and pointy ears. “Not this again,” Kai mutters under his breath, but thankfully there is no one screaming about demons.

“Who are you?” Cole asks suspiciously, although it isn’t unkind. “And what do you mean the First Spinjitzu Master?” Jay jumps in.

The old goblin looks at them individually, before settling his sights on Morro. His eyes widen briefly, but he doesn’t say anything. “I am Asferus, the keeper of this temple,” the old goblin introduces. “The First Spinjitzu Master tasked my family to protect this place, long before Ninjago was even considered to be a realm.”

“What do you mean?” Lloyd shifts uncomfortably, “I thought the First Spinjitzu Master created Ninjago.”

Asferus chuckles, “That’s what everyone is led to believe. No, he was not the maker of this realm, but he had a hand in creating it into what it is today. Before his arrival, a great serpent by the name of Wojira ruled the sees, and my ancestors along with the Merlopians helped him put her into a deep slumber.”

Huh. Well, that was interesting. Did Wu ever know this part, or had the First Spinjitzu Master hidden the truth to even his children?

“But what is this place?” Nya asks, pointing to the different pedestals. “Why are our powers here?”

Asferus looks sad when he says, “The First Spinjitzu Master had many enemies that tried their hardest to rid him from this realm and all the others. He worried that if his enemies managed to dispose of him and his allies, a remnant of their powers should be safe in a place that no one but their descendants or their chosen heirs would be able to locate and use.”

“So he created a vault of every Elemental power in existence, just in case something happened?” Cole clarifies, and Asferus tilts his head to the ground.

“Not all of them,” he says quietly. “Wojira had two elements under her control. One of them managed to make their way back to the First Spinjitzu Master’s allies– Nyad. She stole most of Wojira’s powers and it turned her into an ocean. Wojira fell into a deep slumber and in her wake, she left behind two amulets. My brethren on the islands protect one, the Merlopians, the other. But it has been many centuries since then, and you cannot hide something forever.”

“So someone found the amulets?” Nya asks, her eyes furrowed as she tries to make the connection. Morro is in the same place, this story doesn’t seem relevant to help him turn back into a human, so why was it being said?

“Two people, in two different eras. They gained some of Wojira’s powers, making them the Elemental masters of Water and Wind. The calmer versions of Wojira’s storm and waves.”

“Wait, are you saying me and Morro are the descendants of a snake?” Nya demands, and Morro winces. He’d once wondered where his powers came from, why the people who had abandoned him had given him this one gift that had made him think for over seventy years that he was special.

“Your powers are,” Asferus corrects, gesturing to the pedestal that holds the ball of water. “And not long after Raine discovered the Wave amulet, the First Spinjitzu Master found her and helped train her. He never discovered the Master of Wind.”

“Until now,” Morro says, crossing his arms.

“Until now,” Asferus agrees softly.

Morro doesn’t usually think back on his past for obvious reasons. He had been an orphan and homeless until Wu took pity on him and fed him with falsities. Had Wu known? Had he known that Morro was the first person he’d ever seen to use Wind, and thought Morro was special because of it? Had Wu thought he would be the Green Ninja, simply because no one else had known of an Elemental Master of Wind?

It’s so believably Wu, to do something like that, that Morro squashes down his anger and bitter resentment and hardens it into cold determination. So what if that’s what Wu thought? The past was the past, and there was nothing they could do to correct it. Unless he could somehow use the ball of time sitting on a pedestal next to him.

Morro shakes his head, he wasn’t going to think of the what-ifs. “So this place holds the elemental powers– how does that turn me back into a human?”

“If all the elements are placed on each pedestal, then, in theory, it can reinvent whoever steps in its light. I believe that a few decades ago, a person tried to accomplish the feat of eternal life through a weapon, but failed to harness all the elements and cursed those that he used it on.”

“Yang,” Cole spits out in disgust and Asfernus shrugs.

“He had the right idea, the wrong ingredients. Perhaps you will succeed, or suffer a fate worse than him and your friend over here,” he nods in Morro’s direction, and Morro grimaces.

No pressure or anything, huh? Good thing Morro is a pro at being under pressure– except there’s something that he can’t exactly control.

“In this state, I don’t have access to my powers,” Morro says, ignoring the way everyone, except for Kai, turns to look at him in surprise.

“What?” Jay demands, “We come all this way and you don’t even have your powers!”

“A few minutes ago, I didn’t even know that my powers were a requirement!” Morro snaps back. “Or that I got them from a freaking snake!”

“So what do we do? How do we get them back?” Lloyd asks, and Morro throws his hands in the air.

“If I knew how to, don’t you think I would have done it already?” He asks frustrated. He had tried. He had tried so hard to cause something as small as a breeze. But his powers were gone. “I can’t do it when I'm both a ghost and a human. I don’t think it works like this.”

Zane gives him a calculated look, “Perhaps it’s not that. As a ghost, you shouldn’t have technically had your powers, and yet you did– not even in a weakened state but at full power. I highly doubt that now, partially human, you would be struggling to retain any of it.”

Morro scoffs, “So what? You’re saying this is all in my head?”

“Yes,” Zane agrees bluntly, and Morro refuses to look at Kai, who he is sure has an ‘I knew it,’ look on his face.

“So how do we not make it in my head?” He asks, “Have a small therapy session?” It’s meant to be said mockingly, but the Ninja actually exchange a look and contemplate it, and Morro holds out his hands to stop it. “Nope, no way. No therapy, not from you at least.”

Kai coughs, “I don’t know about the others, but I was going to suggest something else.”

“Trust me, I am all ears,” Morro says a little too quickly.

“When you think of your powers, where do you feel that tugging sensation where your power resides? For me, it’s near my shoulders that goes down my arms and into the palm of my hands. I know the others feel it differently, but where do you feel it?” Kai asks, and Morro frowns with a small shrug.

His power was like another layer of skin. Armor that was invisible to everyone but him– the only thing he could call his own. He was the wind in a sense, the ease of being able to bend it around him came as naturally as breathing.

Which is why it was so hard to adjust to just… not having it anymore. It was suffocating without it– it was like a piece of Morro was missing. Or was it the only piece of Morro? Was he anything without his powers? He’d like to think so, but he doesn’t know. His life has been so much change, so much chaos, that to have his one constant ripped away from him… He’s swept away with nothing to keep him tethered.

It makes him wonder, why had his power left him after escaping from the Doctor’s portal? If Zane is right, and it is all just mental, then why would he be blocking it out? His wind was a lifeline, a constant in his life and death and ghostly resurrection. What would make him subconsciously want to be away from that?

Maybe he deserved to be without his powers, a small thought creeps into his mind. How many people had he hurt with his powers? It hadn’t just been the Ninja who had suffered from his wrath, and maybe mentally, Morro hadn’t wanted to be with something that had been a cause of it. Maybe… Maybe.

Wind flutters through the remains of his hair, and Morro blinks his eyes open. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them. “Oh,” he breathes loudly as the wind flows through the room, singing to him like a lost friend. He hadn’t realized that’s why the room was so still and quiet. The wind was gone.

He breaks into a grin, letting a large gust blow through the chamber, and the Ninja cheer, sounding more relieved than Morro thinks they should. “Now what?” He asks Asfernus and the elder points to the farthest part of the room. There is an empty pedestal, and Morro has some idea of what he should do.

“Place a piece of your power onto the last pedestal, and I shall start the ritual,” Asfernus explains, and Morro cups his hands together, and lets the familiar hum soothe his bones as he forms a ball of wind, swirling violently on itself, and places it in its spot.

Then Asfernus begins to chat, ancient, archaic tongues, and before his very eyes, the moon makes its way over the sun. An eclipse, Morro’s mind flashes back to the Day of the Departed. But this time, it is not a comet, and it is not Morro going back to the Cursed Realm.

No, this time– as a glowing gold portal is cast in the center of the room, the middle of every pedestal that contains an element– this time, Morro will get to live.

He takes one small tentative step toward the portal, making sure this is what he must do before his legs take a mind of their own, and he’s walking, running towards the portal. Unlike before, where he had gone from ghost to zombie, in complete and utter agony, begging for another death to come his way– this time, it’s like a warm embrace.

His first death had been inhaling the poisonous gasses in the Caves of Despair, and his resurrection has him breathing fresh air. Gold swirls around him, filling him, fixing him, making him whole.

And then it’s over, and Morro is breathing and alive, and so, so, thirsty.

He stares at his fingers, now covered in flesh and muscles in wonderment. Alive, he thinks, barely able to believe it. The Ninja crowd around him, all grinning at him in delight, and Morro can only mirror their faces.

“It worked,” He says, feeling dazed as Lloyd helps him up from the ground.

“You’re alive,” Lloyd confirms, squeezing his hand slightly before letting go. “We did it.”

“And no one was trying to kill us! New best quest ever!” Jay jumps in, laughing as Kai swats him.

“Tell that to the crazy cultists!”

“Okay, fine. No one was trying to kill me, ” Jay amends, and Morro can’t help the smile bubbling out of him.

“This has been quite the easy trip,” Cole grins in agreement, “Can’t believe we’ve already finished it.” Zane shakes his head. “The journey is not over yet. We still have to get back to the monastery.”

“That’s right,” Morro nods his head, “I think we agreed to four roadside attractions, right?”

Everyone breaks into an argument about which they should go to first, but Morro slips away to see Asfernus. “Thank you,” he says quietly, and the old goblin smiles at him.

“The temple is complete, thanks to you,” he says, gesturing to the room around them. It’s true, the temple is back in pristine shape, with no more crumbling walls and caved-in roof. “A fair trade in my opinion.”

Morro ducks his head, “I guess, but still, thank you.”

“Try not to repeat it,” Asfernus tells him lightheartedly, and Morro snorts. Yeah, there was no way he was going to die again– not until he was Wu’s age– and thinking of Wu, Morro pauses, feeling unwanted panic consume his newly remade body. Was he prepared to deal with Wu?

No– well, maybe. He’ll see. Right now he was going to enjoy the fact that he was human, had his powers back, and had another week's worth of touring around Ninjago before dealing with Wu and all the battles that it came with.

This was a vacation, and Morro is definitely going to enjoy it as much as he can. He deserves it.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #morro ninjago #ninjago morro #morro wu #ninjago lloyd #ninjago kai #jay ninjago #zane ninjago #cole ninjago #ninjago nya #ao3 #my post #zebaji-posts

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hallowsden · 2 years ago

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DC x DP Idea Thing #5

Danny meets Joker Jr (Tim)

So, was bored and brain thought "Hm... Danny knows what it's like to under the control of clown." Then, it remembered "Who else knew what it's like to be under the control of a Clown? Oh, right, T I M"

Sure, by all mean technically, both were 2 different circumstances, Tim having been tortured and brainwashed while Danny was put under mind control via a supernatural item. But still, nevertheless, this was enough to get the ball rolling.

Like, Imagine Danny, having just escaped from the GIW's torture and experiments, ending up fleeing to Gotham (Cause no body at the GIW wants to deal with the Bat or his rogues or just the general population there- even if they were (unfortunately) a government branch- which, if anything, would likely anger the rogues and thugs more and even half the civilian Gothamites-)

He wanders around Gotham, mainly vibing and chilling as he recovers, trying to find a place he calls his new haunt/home when he entered a seemingly abandoned warehouse.

Danny didn't know what to expect entering the abandoned warehouse, but it certainly wasn't a guy his age, bound to a metal table, trembling. Upon a closer look, the guy was wearing a black, red, and yellow armored costume of some sort, and on his face was a prominent Glasgow grin.

Seeing the electrical cords hooked up to the table the guy was trapped in, Danny flew closer, wanting to help him immediately.

The guy flinched harshly in his restraints upon noticing him. Danny stopped midair, as he raised one hand slowly.

It would take a bit for the guy to calm down, but even then, he'd be wary of Danny up until he freed him from the restraints.

"Hey- I'm not here to hurt you," Danny said gently, feeling the pain the guy held through his core.

At this point, Tim hasn't completely broken under Joker's torture but already, but he's already semi-brainwashed to be Joker Jr, er- well, to think of himself as Joker Jr instead of Tim Drake or Red Robin. Joker and Harley haven't programmed his personality into him yet. They mainly tortured Tim to be obedient, submissive, and susceptible to their manipulations and torture so it is easier to mold him into their perfect son.

JJ, as he twitchingly introduces himself to Danny, is gonna also have amnesia. He doesn't remember fully of his life as Tim or Red Robin, at least for the time bein. It was supposed to be his brain's way as a coping mechanism to forget the torture, but nope, Joker made sure he'd never forget it. Plus, being electrocuted can cause amnesia so... Yeah.

Danny's gonna make sure JJ's away from the warehouse and is gonna protect him. He may not know the full extent of the circumstances as to why JJ was there but he can guess, and it ain't good. Once he learns of the whole situation, though? Yeah, Joker's gonna be dragged to the Infinity Realms by him along with Harley, though, Harley may be released due to her own circumstances as well... She just needs to serve her time since she still did a lot of crimes anyways...

While Danny's taking care of JJ (even if it also meant stealing amongst a few other crimes-), Batfam is still trying to find their missing member.

Idk if this makes sense anymore. I just thought it be neat of Danny meets Joker Jr Tim, save him, and help him recover while Batfam are out, running around, like headless chickens. Would this lead to shipping? Maybe, who knows? I think JJ Tim and Danny would prove to be better as brothers here.

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days-until-burnout · 1 month ago

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Jimmy/skizz/tango (any) jimmys first day in charge has its ups and downs and he isnt so sure he likes it but skizz sure does (tango comes to the rescue?)

the first time i read this i thought it was a plate-up situation, and was so convinced it was. but while writing it today, i realized that it might not be lol anyways, ambigious trio coming right up o7 _____

📧 Day 80 -

Characters - Skizz + Jimmy + Tango Words - 1,017 Time - 40 mins Content - Restaurant AU/Plate-up AU | Slight angst

As soon as the doors clicked closed—hands flat against the borders of the door, eyes fixated on the line where they met—Jimmy was on the verge of collapsing. He was shaking on the spot, frozen holding the doors closed despite there being no customers outside. The last of the crowds were outside, chatting their time away as the night continued to darken. A couple cars flashed their lights as they drove by, not quite enough to shake him out of his head.

On the corner of his eyes, near the bottom of the door he could see a stain. Some sauce. He had no doubt the rest of the restaurant was much the same—stains on walls, spills on the floors, broken plates on the bins, wasted food—

Service had been terrible. And it had been terrible because he had been in charge.

What a mistake. What a joke he was.

The overhead speakers still played cheering tunes, songs he could not tune into, his hearing haunted by bells and orders and the sizzling of pans—of frantic footsteps and shattering plates—voices on top of voices on top of voices, everyone wanting something, everyone needing something—overwhelming—

Skizz and Tango had trusted him. Had encouraged and hyped him up. And this was how he replayed them? He could not face them. Them, the pair he cared for most. He heard them talking, away from the dining area, tucked all the way back in the kitchen as they began clean-up for the night.

How could he face them like this? After tonight?

If he ran now, he would get a big enough head-start that they would not chase—

"Hey, Jimmy?"

Too late.

"You alright, man? Someone trynna break in? Door busted?" Skizz questioned, each time getting closer, voice and tone colored with worry. It only made Jimmy want to curl up and cry—they deserved so much better.

With a soft thud, making the bell atop the door ring, Jimmy dropped his head against the intersection of the doors. He closed his eyes, exhaled shallowly into his hands. "Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine. Tired. Just… tired."

Skizz took a second to reply—had he heard through Jimmy's lie? Probably.

"I imagine! Crazy night we had tonight!" There was a cheer in Skizz's voice, that same spark and warmth that had convinced Jimmy to be in charged earlier. Now—now it was just jarring to hear. "You did amazing! Tango and I were like headless chickens in the back. Dude, you killed the service!"

Jimmy found it hard to believe, his mind providing proof—remakes of orders; once, twice… three times; shattered plates, spilled drinks; murmurs—he heard people talking, watching him, how he made a fool of himself. No one had left—how pitiful had he been? Skizz would have charmed people enough to make it seem intentional, Tango… Tango just would not have fumbled this badly.

"Hah, did I? I don't… think I did."

"Really? Always so humble, you did amazing!"

Jimmy headbutted the door in shock, startled forward when Skizz slapped the back of his shoulder like he always did.

"Oop- Sorry, sorry, I'm just so fired up, dude! We are really, really getting a hang of this whole speed restaurant thing!"

Did Skizz not see everything wrong? Was Skizz so nice or so naive to not remember everything that went wrong? Every mistake, every single mistake replayed in Jimmy's mind, loud, imposing—how could Skizz not?

"Slacking off, aye?"

Jimmy slumped as Tango's voice joined the conversation, his voice louder and clearer than the music still playing in the background. Some love song, a broken heart finding another to love.

"Jimmy?" Tango called, the playfulness gone from his tone. His footsteps filled the silence—Jimmy could not face him. "Are you- Do you… Is something wrong?"

Everything, Jimmy wanted to say; instead, he said nothing.

A kiss was pressed in the back of his right shoulder, then Skizz was carefully prying him away from the door. The sky was so dark now, couple stars twinkling��Tango flipped the sign; closed.

Skizz held his hands gently, Tango's back on his back, both guiding him to the back. Although his gaze was fixed on the floors, he still choked on sobs at every spilled, every stain—how did he mess up so badly?

He did not deserve the niceness, their heart like this. Together in their old couch, Jimmy in the middle; Skizz on his left, Tango on his right; the old blanket stretched out to cover their legs. Jimmy dropped his hands on his lap, right hand wrapped on his left fist, squeezing until his knuckles turned white and his left fingers hurt. They only sandwiched him closer, warm and sturdy by his side.

Tango placed his hand on top of his, carefully pulling them away, bringing his right hand to his lips. A kiss on his knuckles, another on his fingers.

"It's alright," Tango said as he rested his head on his shoulder, exhaling slowly, "we don't have to talk tonight."

"We can wait," Skizz added. His right arm slid behind them, over shoulders and bumping into Tango's head as he tried to run his hand through Jimmy's hair. They were warm, so understanding and patient. So good, too good. "It was a good night, though. No one can take that from you, Jimmy. Not even you!"

Tango chuckled, the vibration almost nice down his arm. "Yeah, it was a good night. A very good night, Jimmy. Let's just have that tonight, alright?"

Jimmy opened his mouth to object, deflect or something along those lines, but he was drained—physically and emotionally, even more so mentally—so he simply closed his mouth then exhaled, giving a short nod.

It was not a good night, not for Jimmy—maybe for them, and maybe tomorrow they would convince him that it was in fact a good night, a great night even, until then, he could only he grateful that his nights end with them by his side. Always by his side—always a good night.

_____

fun fact: ive never seen a plate up stream. nor any stream theyve done together. in fact, i dont watch streams at all :P

#trafficshipping #skizzleman #solidaritygaming #tangotek #day 80

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kingsanddragonsandgods · 1 year ago

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I have two fanfics in my head, both OC's are a child of Daemon by Rhea Royce(this is one character male or female I wish eisted in canon, a child by those two) and I have no idea how to start to write.

#1- Aegon the Elder x OC- she's Aegon's age, perhaps a few months older, conceived during Daemon exile to the Vale post the heir for a day debacle. Daemon is not a present father during her formative years and later on she no longer cares. She dislikes her stepmothers(for a number of reasons). She's not close to her stepsiblings or half-siblings, she does not hate or dislikes them, she just doesn't care to care🤷🏻‍♀️. Her presence changes Aegon (I do believe that love and a gentler touch early in life would have made a difference in his life) Alicent is too afraid in the show to be gentle with her eldest, Aegon was supposed to be strong, to be the shield that keeps them all alive, but obviously tough love did not work. Hormonal Aegon is infatuated with her so he WANTS to be worthy of her. She doesn't just live her life waiting to watch what it is to come, she prepares the stage, she does not underestimate the other faction--her mother's rock divorce always in mind--.

#2-ViserysxOCniece- I hate Viserys just as much as the next person, but just imagined a character that is and does everything that TB stans accuses Alicent of: she was probably one of Aemma's ladies-in-waiting, instead of Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra's handmaid(historically, the easiest way into the King's bed, is through the Queen's bedchambers), a seductress nymph (in the book there's the rumor that they had a affair while Aemma was still alive, so perhaps who knows🤷🏻‍♀️), seducing poor Viserys into giving her a crown and make her his Queen, Viserys reasoning: she is a better/neutral choice, a Targaryen Princess, a woman grown(14/15yrs old)no one can feel slighted, she's older than Laena, renew the Vale/Targaryen alliance, joining his line to his brother's(Viserys just wants to fuck his niece but he must convince himself that he is better than his brother and better than the average men). She actually plots to put her eldest on the IT, she's giving him sons, she's enduring his attentions, she wants her reward. She has affairs with younger, handsomest men than her husband(There are those that accuse Alicent of f*cking Criston🤷🏻‍♀️ and there were theories that Daeron would be their love child and that's way he was sent to Oldtown😔 or saying she's a who're for showing her feet to Larys). She does take power when her husband is too sick, and she actually does keep him alive and bedridden. What a villain she would make. The Cersei in Cersei's head😂.

(one thing that annoys me is the dumbness or lack of thought present during the DoD, like: there is always talking of how dangerous Daemon is, but what was done to prepare? Why aren't the children sent away to safer locations? Why were the TG armies going around like headless chickens? Why were they still stuck in knightly honor and strategy when their enemies were using guerrilla tactics? Why not set fire to the enemy's ships in the middle of the night? Those kind of things just blow my mind, this is like #1 in warfare)

I want more Machiavellian characters.

#house of the dragon #team green #aegon ii targaryen #anti team black #pro team green #alicent hightower #anti rhaenyra stans #anti team black stan’s #hotd fic

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notinmyvocab · 8 months ago

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apologies for my tongue (and never yours)

was encouraged by @yourlocaldisneyvillain to explore this fic a little more, so here's a snippet of genderbent David Copperfield!

title is subject to change

Felicity Copperfield was born at midnight at her home, the Rookery.

Her mother, Clara, had spent the better part of the day writhing in pain with a panicked housekeeper running around, no more useful than a headless chicken.

“Peggotty!” Clara Copperfield cried.

“Keep breathing, ma’am!” Peggotty instructed. Water! She needed to get water! Oh where was that blasted doctor?

Just then, a face appeared in the window. Miss Betsey Trotwood pressed her nose against the glass so that it became perfectly flat and white in a moment. “Mrs. David Copperfield?” she called from beyond the glass. “Miss Trotwood, you’ve heard of her I dare say?”

“Y-yes!” Clara managed to choke out as Peggotty opened the door and allowed Miss Betsey in.

“Well, now you see her,” Miss Betsey stated proudly. “Goodness, you’re a young one, aren’t you? A mere baby yourself! May I ask: why Rookery?”

“Do you… do you mean the house? It was Mr. Copperfield’s idea,” Clara explained through clenched teeth. “Peggotty!”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Peggotty bustled into the room with warm wet rags to press against Mrs. Copperfield’s forehead.

Miss Betsey frowned. “Peggotty? Do you mean to say that any human being has gone into a Christian church, and got herself named Peggotty?”

Taking offense, Peggotty stiffened. “Sorry, and what did you say our name was?”

“Trotwood. Betsey Trotwood.”

“Of course, my apologies, I thought it was Pot-Kettle-Black.”

“Peggotty!” Clara snapped, and the housekeeper returned to dabbing away the sweat. Clara was very agitated at this point, and red in the face. Leave it to her husband’s great aunt to show up at the worst possible time!

Miss Betsey turned to her niece. “Ah yes, the child. Your baby boy! I have no doubt it will be a boy, and I intend to be his friend and godmother. And you must call him David, as his father was named.” For David had been her favorite nephew. His passing had been sudden and tragic, and while this boy would not know his father personally, Miss Betsey would see that the boy knew of his father.

Of course, the child could always be a girl, but before Clara could point that out, she let out a strangled cry, feeling as if she were being torn in half. Just then, the doctor came through the door and with Peggotty’s help, Clara Copperfield was brought upstairs. It was then Miss Betsey took cotton out of her purse and placed it in her ears to drown out the yelling.

Hours passed. The sun sank beneath the horizon. Evening turned into night. Finally, Dr. Chillip came downstairs. His shirtsleeves were splattered with blood, but he looked pleased.

Miss Betsey stood up, taking the cotton out of her ears. “And how is he, doctor?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, he?”

“The boy, how is the baby boy?”

“It’s a girl, ma’am,” Dr. Chillip informed her. “A perfectly healthy baby girl.”

Miss Betsey’s face fell at this news. A girl. A girl who would not be named David. Well, that was that.

Miss Betsey Trotwood retrieved her purse and promptly left the Rookery, never to return.

The baby girl was christened Felicity Copperfield.

There wasn’t much Felicity could recall from when she was a baby. She did remember warm smiles. She remembered Peggotty’s fingertips feeling like pocket nutmeg graters: rough and ticklish when grazed lightly against the skin.

As she grew up, she gravitated towards books. She swallowed words whole, storing them inside of her. With paragraphs, she built fantastical palaces in her mind, envisioning scenes of princes and princesses.

Though it never felt quite right when a story ended with a princess being rescued by a prince. In her head, she would rewrite the endings where the princesses would have to save the princes and in turn became knighted. It made for a much better story.

The months turned into a decade turned into seventeen years. Letty was a young woman living with her mother, and they were happy.

Letty was happy, anyway.

Clara Copperfield desired more. She adored her daughter and she was grateful for Peggotty’s company and help. But it did make her smile when Edward Murdstone called on her for an evening stroll.

It became a habit. Every evening, he would call on her and she would join him and Letty would be left behind to watch her mother come and go with this stranger.

One evening, after her mother had disappeared down the lane with the stranger, Letty grabbed a book and spent time in the garden reading until she heard her mother return. And of course, right there with her, was the man with the eyebrows. Letty put aside her book and approached Clara.

“Did you have a pleasant walk, Mother?”

“Oh Letty darling,” Clara pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Come and meet Mr. Murdstone.”

“Felicity Copperfield,” the man said with a small bow. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” said Letty coldly.

She did not know Edward Murdstone, but she could see ill omens in his eyes. She bid him a pleasant evening before returning inside the house and going straight to her room.

Through her door, Letty heard Peggotty and her mother discuss the evening and then their conversation became hushed, as if they were aware that they were being listened in on. Annoyed, but resigned, Letty settled into bed for the night.

But sleep did not come. Hours passed and she fidgeted beneath her sheets. Eventually, she gave up. At this point, Peggotty had retired to bed, but Clara remained awake in the kitchen, sipping on warm milk.

Wordlessly, Letty joined her mother in the kitchen, pouring herself warm milk from the saucepan.

“How did you find Mr. Murdstone?” Clara asked.

Letty shrugged. “There wasn’t much to find.” It wasn’t the answer her mother was looking for, though. She could see that in the way the light in Clara’s eyes dimmed. “But he seems very agreeable.”

“Yes, I think so as well.”

There came a long pause, both women sipping their soothing drinks, unanswered questions hanging in the air between them.

“You like him very much, don’t you, Mother?”

Clara gave her daughter an almost sad smile. Surely she thought her pathetic for wearing her feelings so plainly. Felicity was more of a mystery. Though kind, Clara sometimes felt that she barely knew her daughter’s true nature. Felicity was like a book that required reading until the end to fully understand.

“He’s asked me to marry him,” Clara confessed. “He’s good to me, Letty. And he likes you very much; he always asks about you. And I’m so…” Clara stopped herself. How could she tell her daughter that she was lonely?

Letty placed a hand upon her mother’s forearm. “He’s a capital man, Mother. If he makes you happy, then let him make you happy.”

In truth, she did not care for her mother’s suitor. Her brief meeting of Mr. Murdstone had only irritated her. She had never known her father, but Mr. Murdstone was no replacement.

But Clara wasn’t asking to replace David Copperfield. Only to let someone take care of her for once. It did hurt Felicity that she and Peggotty were not enough. But the love of a man could not be replicated, could it? And Letty was not going to deny her mother.

So Clara Copperfield and Edward Murdstone wed.

And trouble began.

#my writing #david copperfield #jane murdstone

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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No matter how stupid or futile this is, I have to do it, I have to write everything down. Maybe it will help me remember, although I have to say forgetting sounds pretty amazing right now. Still, I need to make sense of things, but at least clear my head.

Who am I kidding. This is not for me. It's for you and I so, so hope you will be able to read it. That you'll understand what I went through and why it had to end this way.

Right. Let's do it before this paper disappears along with this fucking day.

It's March 1986 and out of all the fucked up things that have happened in my life, this one takes the cake. Two murders with a curse, power of mind, whatever. People fall asleep standing, start floating, die with a crunch and there's no sign of it stopping, so that's fun. And by fun I mean really fucking horrible. It seems I'm writing the word "fuck" a lot. It helps a bit.

Nancy said, I mean, will say later today...that the guy, Vecna, Henry Creel, One, who honestly cares, plans to do some really messed up shit with Hawkins. And yeah, which villain doesn't have plans like that, but this one means it. Like, really means it. I saw it happen again and again and for some fucked up reason, some higher power chose me to fix this. Just adorable.

Why it chose me, I have no fucking clue. Anyone else would have been a better choice - Dustin and that huge brain of his would figure out not only what to do, but also why it's happening. He'd make sure Vecna would bite the dust during the second, third loop. Maybe it would be a week, but he'd get it eventually. Robin would run around like a headless chicken, but she'd start piecing things together. Nancy? She'd grab a gun or twenty and make sure everyone lives to see another day. Me? I can't get anything right.

I tried telling the others, but honestly, where do you start? You all die horrible and gory deaths. I've seen you choked, broken, torn apart, bleeding out, bones crushed to pieces, all that and more. I keep trying to fix things, but you don't listen to me and at this point, I don't even want to tell anyone because you look at me in that sad, pitying way, as if I was stupid - and shit, maybe I am, okay, not much going on under this fabulous hair, but the last time I tried telling you, you forced me to sit it out and nothing changed, except I just had to wait, listen to your screaming on the walkie. That has been the worst loop so far.

And what's even worse is how much I know about all of you now. I never thought the end of the world would take this long, but I've spent days changing things, piece by piece, but it still ends in bloodshed. But I keep the pieces of you all I've collected along the way and they make the stakes so much higher, so much more cruel. I used to think I know all of you but now I feel like I have some extra puzzle pieces that were thrown in the box and I need to keep them a secret. Day by day I keep learning about everyone...and about myself.

You hate yourself so much and I don't understand it. You do the best you can with the hand you're given and I admire it so much, even if I saw you in a completely different light only a few days ago. But ever since we met in that boathouse, you intrigue me. What you do for the kids, for Dustin...you need to survive this. You need to live because I can't imagine a world without you.

I'm going to try something different today. I used to charge with you, storm the Creel house, but this time I will have to stay behind. Maybe it's just a matter of time, maybe you just need a few more minutes, seconds...but I can't stand to see you die again.

If by any chance this paper makes it with all of you to the next day, I just want to say it was an honor to meet you. I'm so glad I could learn so much about you, understand you, learn to love you for who you are. Maybe it's a matter of a simple exchange and I'm willing to try, because to me you're worth it. I wonder if we could have been friends, maybe something more, if we were only given more time.

Hm. Can't believe I wrote that. Sorry, didn't mean to make this awkward, but marching towards certain death makes you brave.

Please take care of everyone, Steve. And yourself too. Especially yourself.

Love Yours Thank you for everything.

Eddie

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things time loop #so what if what we got is actually the final time loop?#what if Eddie chose this one because it left most of the gang alive?#also nope Steve never saw the letter #he left it at the trailer #and then the gate thing happened so #yeah

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syncogon · 2 years ago

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[QZGS Prequel TL] Ch 11: The Hopes of the Ordinary (2)

(info post and links for the official QZGS Prequel, For the Glory / 巅峰荣耀)

summary: In Season 4, Team Samsara was just another ordinary team.

characters: Fang Minghua, Zhou Zekai, Zhang Yiwei, “Lady Wife”

wordcount: 3.8k

Written by Butterfly Blue, translated by Syncogon.

This is Part 2/3.

PART 1 HERE

********

When he realized that this person probably didn’t belong to the pro circle, Fang Minghua instantly became excited. Aside from the fairytale future standing next to him, it was like seeing another eye-catching, career-related future.

“Why are you all just standing here, why aren’t you helping?” Fang Minghua asked his teammates.

There was a bout of coughs. The thick awkwardness could be felt even through the screen.

“The difference is too great, if we went up we’d only get in the way.” From beside him, Fang Minghua’s future spoke.

“It’s time to show off some real skill.” Fang Minghua controlled his character to step forward. In his mind he looked incredibly proud and dignified, but instead he just heard everyone around him tsk in disdain.

It was a well-worn automatic reaction. Still, no one actually tried to talk him down. It was clear that they all knew Fang Minghua’s skill. A ten-person team hunting down a Level 60 wild boss with only one healer—to anyone who understood Glory, the first thought would be that this team’s healer must be very strong.

As for the fact that he was strong enough to be an official player on a professional team, Fang Minghua’s companions didn’t actually know this yet. After all, he’d only become an official player this year, and the team’s results had been quite bad. Might as well wait until things looked a little better before revealing this surprise—this had been Fang Minghua’s plan all along.

And right now, just like in a professional match, the healer usually wasn’t the eye-catching main character. The main character would be that person over there.

“Hey brother, let me help you out,” Fang Minghua called as he approached.

“Okay,” the other said.

“You guys over there, if you have anything long-range, you can still at least do something from somewhere out of the way, right?” Fang Minghua called to the people behind him.

“Where’s out of the way?” a voice replied with lingering fear. Apparently they’d already tried this before.

“Uh…” The strong player made a sound like he had something to say.

“You want to lead?” Fang Minghua asked.

“Uh…” The strong player made as if to speak, then stopped.

“What did you say?”

“Uh…”

‘Curving neck to sing to the heavens’? Hearing those three consecutive “uh” sounds, Fang Minghua couldn’t help but want to recite the rest of that famous Tang poem. What was up with this guy, was there something wrong with his headset?

“You go.” Finally, the other side typed out two words.

“Follow me,” Fang Minghua yelled, and his friends surged forth.

“Everyone retreat!” One minute later, Fang Minghua yelled again. His friends retreated with their tails between their legs. Above the strong player’s head rose a line of ellipses.

Fang Minghua had thought that he could easily control the field with his pro-level shotcalling, but it still turned into a chaotic mess. The difficulty wasn’t because the new boss was hard to deal with, but because this Sharpshooter expert’s rhythm was so fast and changeable that Fang Minghua couldn’t completely keep up. Fang Minghua tried to have a bit of communication with him, but the other party’s replies were almost all either “mm” or “ah,” and in the rare cases where there was something of substance, the chance would have already passed.

In this situation, naturally Fang Minghua couldn’t completely coordinate the directions he was giving. After a minute of everyone running around like headless chickens, he ultimately decided to have everyone else withdraw. This time, everyone’s tsking was a lot louder than before.

“Let’s just have the two of us,” Fang Minghua said.

“Mm,” the other said.

Healer supporting a 1v1—in such a situation, if Fang Minghua still needed verbal direction, he wouldn’t be a pro player. And when this Sharpshooter had a healer’s support, he played even more aggressively. The bullets that rained down upon the boss’s body splattered blood everywhere, even splashing the face of Fang Minghua’s character.

“This is just too fierce…” Seeing the Sharpshooter become even sharper with the healer’s help, the friends’ ongoing shock rose to the next level.

“Who in the world is this?”

“Zhou Zekai? Is that his real name? I’ve never heard of him before!” someone said, looking at the Sharpshooter’s ID.

Finally, system announcement.

Congratulations to players…

After the string of usernames came their accomplishment: First Kill for Ocean Returner Ganliya.

The world was in uproar. The friends’ private messages instantly exploded, and they received countless more friend invites. But they were all staring dumbfounded. They didn’t even pay attention to the coveted boss drops. They were still digesting this fact: a Level 60 wild boss was basically just soloed to death. Although it’d taken a long time, this only proved the person’s strength even further—in such a drawn-out battle, he hadn’t slipped up at all.

“Is this for real…” Everyone stared at the screen, blinking furiously.

Fang Minghua was a little calmer than them. After all, as a pro player, he’d seen how high the mountains rose and how deep the oceans went. However, he wasn’t distracted by things like the first kill or the equipment drops, either. He stared straight at this Sharpshooter. In his eyes, this was the true boss, the most valuable drop, the future filled with boundless possibility.

“So…” Fang Minghua prepared to say something.

“You’re not there.” But the other player said this sentence out of nowhere.

“Huh?” Fang Minghua didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Announcement,” the other player said.

Fang Minghua finally understood, the other player was saying that his name hadn’t appeared in the list of names for that first kill announcement. Because he’d force-quit the game earlier, he’d automatically left the team, and when he’d returned, the team had already added this person in front of him and naturally didn’t have a spot for him any more. Even now, none of them had realized—it was actually this guy who pointed it out first.

He wasn’t in the list of names, so of course he wouldn’t get any of the rich prizes for that first kill. It meant that he’d helped out for nothing. The other player was expressing his regret for this point.

Not just a strong person, but a good person too!

Fang Minghua’s impression of this Sharpshooter instantly rose to the max.

“Zhou Zekai?” he called, reading the player’s ID.

“Hm?” the other player answered.

“This is your real name?” Fang Minghua asked. Very few people directly used their real name as their in-game ID.

“Yes,” the player said.

“You’re amazing!” Fang Minghua exclaimed.

“I’m okay.”

“Let’s add each other?!”

“Sure.”

Having added Zhou Zekai as a friend, Fang Minghua felt like he’d obtained a priceless treasure.

“So,” he immediately sent a direct message, “you’re so strong, are you part of a pro team?”

“No.” It turned out that Zhou Zekai replied to messages rather quickly.

“I feel like, with your strength, you could become an amazing pro player!” Fang Minghua exclaimed.

“But I still have school,” Zhou Zekai replied.

This… Fang Minghua scratched his head. This player wasn’t an elementary schooler, was he? When he thought about their boss fight, how it almost felt like there was a generation gap in their communication, Fang Minghua couldn’t help but question.

“How old are you?” Fang Minghua asked.

“Seventeen.”

“Uh, then you still can’t go now, but next year you can seriously consider it,” said Fang Minghua.

The Pro Alliance had a rule that pro players had to be at least eighteen years old before registering. But in reality, a lot of players would sign their intent to join a club even before they were eighteen, and then after turning eighteen they would complete registration to become official pro players. Among the numerous rookies that had emerged this year, quite a few had done this—first becoming trainees in the major teams’ training camps, then once they were old enough, immediately converting into official players.

Pro matches began in the second half of the year. This meant that players who were born later in the year might not make the first half of the season. This season, maybe there really was some sort of heavenly mandate, because of all the fiercest rookies, each and every one of their birthdays came before the season’s start, and they began their performances without missing a single match.

“Oh.” Zhou Zekai’s reply came, so succinct that Fang Minghua couldn’t grasp at all what he was thinking.

“If you’re interested, you can come check out our team.” Fang Minghua dropped all pretense and directly invited him.

“What team?” Zhou Zekai asked.

“Team Samsara,” said Fang Minghua. At this moment, he deeply felt the pressure of their losing streak this season. It made him feel like he couldn’t keep his head lifted when announcing the team name.

“During the break, then.” In the end Zhou Zekai just replied with this. There was no way to tell if he felt any disdain toward Samsara.

“Sure, let’s keep in contact.” Fang Minghua debated for a bit, but in the end he decided not to say too much. After all, he was just a rookie in Team Samsara, not any kind of decision-maker. Encouraging Zhou Zekai to come to Samsara was just some wishful thinking on his part. He couldn’t represent any of the team’s opinions.

“Okay.” Zhou Zekai gave a quick and simple reply as usual. Right now, Fang Minghua wasn’t the only one he was talking to. Fang Minghua’s group of friends, after regaining their senses, were all finally swarming this expert, splitting the boss drops while they asked to add him as a friend and such.

“Then uh, I need to go!” Fang Minghua suddenly leapt up again in a rush.

“Where’d you run off to play? Captain’s calling a meeting, hurry back.”

In-game, a message from Tong Lin’s personal account. Fang Minghua didn’t even bother to close the message. He once again force-quit the game, yanked his account card and ran.

Halfway back, his phone rang. Fang Minghua checked and saw that, as expected, it was Captain Zhang Yiwei. With trepidation, he picked up.

“Internet cafe? Come back quickly, we won’t wait for you.”

In the team meeting room, after hearing that Fang Minghua was on his way back from a nearby internet cafe, Zhang Yiwei’s anger flared again. It seemed that he had truly and thoroughly misjudged this person’s character. Not allowed to play in the training room, so he went outside to play. Even though this didn’t go against any team rules, this attitude…

After hanging up, Zhang Yiwei shook his head. He turned his gaze back to the Samsara members in the room. “We’re not waiting, let’s get started.”

Everyone sat up straight. For Captain to suddenly call a meeting on a rest day, everyone thought that there must be something important that he wanted to share. But after Zhang Yiwei had spoken passionately for a while, exhorting everyone to become more enthusiastic and hard-working, everyone began to exchange looks.

That’s it?

No one disagreed with what Zhang Yiwei was saying, but there wasn’t much point to repeating these platitudes.

This wasn’t the first day of Samsara’s mediocrity, and this wasn’t the first motivational meeting they’d had. The previous captain had said this, the boss had said this, the manager had said this, even current captain Zhang Yiwei had already tried to light a fire under them in the past. To suddenly start on this again today… it was probably because their results this season were even worse than before.

Not a single pro player liked having these kinds of disastrous records. The captain was emphasizing that they needed to change, but the real question that Samsara faced now was: how to change?

Determination? Enthusiasm? Hard work? Extra determination? Enthusiasm? Hard work?

For many things, it wasn’t enough just to have spirit! Compared to other teams, it was clear that Samsara couldn’t compete in either player strength or account strength. New rookies joining in a new season could often transform a team, but this season, the team that transformed wasn’t them—it was Blue Rain, it was Tyranny, it was Void, it was Misty Rain.

Strong teams, because of new rookies, had become even stronger.

The teams that had been at Samsara’s level, because of new rookies, had also begun to shine.

And although Samsara’s rookie wasn’t bad, when compared to the names that were frequently mentioned this season, he appeared very ordinary. Just like their team as a whole, when compared to those famous names of the Alliance.

Ultimately, we’re just this kind of ordinary team… It was easy to talk about change, but every person sitting in those seats knew, they’d already reached their upper limit. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to change themselves, it was that they didn’t have the ability to.

So this meeting…

Squeak…

The meeting door was carefully pushed open, and their rookie Fang Minghua crept inside. But Samsara’s meeting room wasn’t all that large, so no matter how careful he was, he still drew everyone’s gazes.

“Sorry I’m late…” Fang Minghua apologized to this room full of senior teammates.

Zhang Yiwei didn’t say anything, just indicated with his eyes for him to sit.

Fang Minghua hurried to find an open seat and sit down. Zhang Yiwei’s mood hadn’t been interrupted, and he continued along in his impassioned speech. But it wasn’t long before Fang Minghua’s mind started to wander, his mind filled with images of that Sharpshooter battling in-game. He couldn’t wait to share his findings with his teammates, but he knew he couldn’t interrupt his captain. He waited and waited, until finally Zhang Yiwei finished and looked at them with shining eyes: “Does anyone have anything to say?”

“Reporting to Captain!” Fang Minghua raised his hand.

“Go ahead.”

“Today I found an expert in-game, his strength was incredible…”

“If you’re trying to explain to everyone why you’re late, there’s no need,” Zhang Yiwei directly interrupted him.

“I’m not, I just wanted to say that I discovered this expert, and maybe we can invite him to join our team,” Fang Minghua said.

“Oh? Then tell us, what kind of expert was this,” Zhang Yiwei said.

“A Sharpshooter, he single-handedly took out the new wild boss, Ocean Returner Ganliya,” Fang Minghua promptly said. He felt that even pro players would be impressed by this battle accomplishment.

“Sharpshooter?” But what everyone focused on first was the class. After exchanging looks, they all snuck glances at Zhang Yiwei, and an awkward atmosphere spread through the room.

Zhang Yiwei’s expression had also become somewhat forced. After Fang Minghua sensed something was wrong, he immediately realized. Sharpshooter, wasn’t that the exact class that Zhang Yiwei played? When he’d talked about another strong Sharpshooter, even inviting him to join…

As of now, there wasn’t a single team in the Pro Alliance who used two players of the same class onstage. The arrival of a same-class player, that usually meant… replacement.

“Captain that’s not what I meant!” After realizing, Fang Minghua quickly backpedaled.

“Then what did you mean?” Zhang Yiwei asked.

“I just felt that… he’s very strong, uh, he can help us.” Fang Minghua chose his words carefully. His true thoughts really were this simple. “I didn’t think about class at all.”

“Is that so? Then you invite him to give it a try.” Zhang Yiwei replied neutrally, before changing the subject: “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

For a meeting of platitudes like this, no one would have had much to say in the first place. Now with this kind of incident, everyone kept their mouths even more firmly shut.

“Fine, meeting adjourned.” Zhang Yiwei turned and was the first one to leave. The rest of the members all looked at Fang Minghua, who seemed to be at a loss.

“Alright, let’s go, then.” With that, everyone got to their feet. The ones who passed by Fang Minghua just lightly patted him on the shoulder. No one said anything more to him.

Fang Minghua wasn’t an idiot. Even though Captain had told him to invite the player over, those were very clearly just the polite words expected from him as a captain. Although he’d already left the room, his unhappiness lingered in the air.

Fang Minghua didn’t know what to do. Should he just leave it? But when those images of Zhou Zekai’s battle floated up in his mind once more, his heart filled with reluctance.

I can’t just leave it like this, so… I’ll find another chance. Fang Minghua quietly made up his mind.

Then the most urgent thing right now was to maintain contact with Zhou Zekai. To stay connected, it’d have to be through the game. But Fang Minghua had only just become an official pro player. His salary wasn’t very high, he didn’t have much money on hand, so he couldn’t immediately go get a computer for himself. Starting from today, he couldn’t go back to playing in the training room. Running to the internet cafe every day wasn’t a long-term solution, either. That place could be called a forbidden zone for pro players. Fang Minghua only dared to sneak in because he was still relatively unknown as a rookie. For any of the other players, even though they weren’t superstars, this was still Samsara’s home turf. There was basically no chance of entering an internet cafe without being recognized.

His only option was to borrow money from someone.

When he reached this conclusion, that phone number that he’d etched into his mind long ago now surfaced in his thoughts.

This was the girl of his heart, and yet his first thought when he needed money was her? Fang Minghua angrily gave himself a slap in the face.

Who would have thought, right at that moment his phone started to ring. The caller ID screen just happened to display that exact phone number, along with the contact name that he, from first impressions, had unilaterally assigned: Lady Wife.

Fang Minghua stared blankly at the ringing phone for a while before he finally picked up.

“Hello.”

“What’s up with you today?” The caller’s tone was accusatory, but Fang Minghua felt that this was concern. It was quite sweet to hear.

“Today… was a little busy,” Fang Minghua said.

“Busy with what?” she asked.

They were even doing check-ins with each other now! Fang Minghua continued to feel sweet in his heart, so sweet that he forgot to talk.

“Say something, you,” the other side said.

“Alright, no more pretending, I’m coming clean.” Fang Minghua took a deep breath. “I’m a pro player now.”

Now it was her turn to be silent. Fang Minghua cautiously checked that the call hadn’t dropped, before he suddenly heard sound from the speaker again.

“I thought you weren’t pretending anymore?” the other side said.

“It’s the truth. Team Samsara’s new healer this season, Fang Minghua, Cleric Laughing Song, that’s me,” said Fang Minghua.

The other side was quiet again. This was a moment that Fang Minghua had pictured countless times. In the most ideal scenario, he wouldn’t even need to introduce himself. He would just stand in front of that person, who would recognize him in shock and awe, while he said nothing and simply smiled. Next best scenario would be, after he announced his name, that person would say in disbelief: You’re actually Samsara’s Fang Minghua.

He’d imagined all sorts of scenes, but in reality this moment turned out to be rather a letdown. He was still far from famous enough to be recognized by name. Even out of all of Team Samsara, only their Captain Zhang Yiwei was somewhat moderately-known.

“I just searched it up, Team Samsara really does have a player named Fang Minghua this season.” Finally the voice spoke again. Evidently, she’d gone online to check.

“That’s me.” Fang Minghua didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I believe it,” she said.

“Would I lie to you?”

“You think hiding this for so long doesn’t count as lying, huh?” Her voice had become cold.

“I was wrong.” Fang Minghua hastily backed down. The respectful title of “Lady” in “Lady Wife” wasn’t given for nothing.

“So in the future… it’ll always be like this, you won’t have much time to come online anymore, right?” she said, her voice suddenly tinged with loss.

“I won’t be as free as before, but I should still have some time. It’s just that…” Here, Fang Minghua hesitated.

“What?”

“I need a favor,” Fang Minghua said.

“What is it?”

“Can I borrow some money,” Fang Minghua said.

“……”

“Hello? Hello? Are you still there?” This time, the silence extended longer than ever. After Fang Minghua checked three times that the connection hadn’t broken, he started to shout into the phone.

“I need to re-verify your identity.” When the voice finally spoke again, it had become cool and logical.

“Bring it, ask some questions that only we know.” Fang Minghua liked this exam.

A few minutes later… Fang Minghua passed with full marks.

“How much do you need? I don’t have that much.”

“I just want to get a computer for myself, but I don’t have enough on hand. If you could help me get a few thousand yuan, that’d be enough,” Fang Minghua said.

“The pro team doesn’t have computers?” The other side was starting to doubt again.

“The team’s computers are for training. I’d have to go to an internet cafe regularly if I wanted to play for fun, but that wouldn’t be convenient,” explained Fang Minghua.

“You’re doing this to come play the online game.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll get you the money.” The other side’s tone had become certain and determined.

“Fantastic! Words cannot express my gratitude, I’m willing to offer myself up to you!” Fang Minghua said, loud and sincere.

“Hmph, I expect the money back,” she replied.

“It won’t be too long, I’ve just been tight on cash recently. Once I get paid next month, I’ll pay you back,” Fang Minghua immediately said.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be that urgent…”

Not two days later, a brand-new computer arrived at Fang Minghua’s room. He’d never expected this, but after borrowing money, it felt like the relationship between him and “Lady Wife” seemed to grow much closer. From that day on, Fang Minghua dedicated all of his free time at night to the Glory online game. He played for fun with his group of old companions, and he kept in touch with his new friend, Zhou Zekai.

[to be continued]

PART 3 HERE

********

TL notes:

The poem Fang Minghua is thinking of is called 咏鹅, “Ode to the Goose.” It’s a short poem that children commonly learn, and the first three words are pronounced “uh, uh, uh” to mimic a goose’s honking.

“Lady Wife”: 老婆大人, Wife-daren if you’re familiar with CN honorifics. Wife-sama might be an understandable JP equivalent. It’s a light-hearted way to refer to your partner with respect and intimacy.

Stay tuned for part 3, which has already been released in Chinese (and is really fuckin good). As always please share your thoughts! I think FMH is fantastic ahaha

#quan zhi gao shou #the king's avatar #qzgs #tka #全职高手 #qzgs prequel #mine #translation

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sm-writes-chaos · 1 year ago

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words are wording

“Good cannot exist without evil.”

That’s the saying correct? That was rhetorical. I know I’m correct. Some may have stooped to calling me evil, maybe even the devil incarnate himself. But their prissy heads are stuck in the clouds. They wouldn’t exist without me, I keep them in line so we all don’t become mushy crybabies who can’t stand up for themselves. Everyone’s a pushover and everyone’s a listener. But being a listener doesn’t get you anywhere, nor does being a pushover. So when people ask me how I became so successful in such a short amount of time I tell them, “because I make it known what I want and when I want it. I don’t rest until everything I need is in order.”

That’s what got me into five blockbuster hits, one ongoing tv show, and many many interviews.

They had no right to take that from me.

People often ask whether I believed they ever existed, and I always answered the same way every time, “no.”

Turning nineteen does not make you a better person, and it won’t happen to me. I’m the best I can be, there’s no way they’ll take me. But I don’t even believe that so it’s double guaranteed to never happen.

Higher beings taking our souls at nineteen and replacing us if we’re not good enough is just another conspiracy theory.

And like I said, I’m more than good enough so it’s never going to happen.

Those thoughts replayed in my mind, almost trying to torment me. I can’t make sense of any of it. But I’m here now so my only thought should be escape.

AMBIGUOUS AMOUNT OF TIME EARLIER:

“Zaria Kasic, the first teenager to shoot up to fame this quickly since (Other famous person), has been silent on her upcoming projects. Many speculate her working with Matias Loren, the young director whose films have won two Oscars up to now. More news after the break.”

I smirked. Little did they know I was going to work with Matias’ brother, Lukas, a much more successful guy than he ever was. I was listening to the tv from behind me while I busied myself with enjoying breakfast. Fresh pancakes and strawberries topped with three dollops of whipped cream. Just how I liked it. How mom made it too, but she never let me have more than two dollops. I chuckled a bit. She’s probably scolding me from heaven right now. I wiped the smile off my face with my first bite of the pancakes. Look at me mom! I looked around my apartment. Big enough to not even be considered an apartment. I smirked again, knowing that I proved her wrong.

I made it after all.

But I wasn’t done yet, I had so much more to do. I lazily draped myself on the back of my chair, risking it falling. Now looking at the ceiling I imagined the fame I could chase next.

Relationship scandals were already developing, them all being false of course. They were just like headless chickens running around my finger, throwing whatever theories they could at me. The thrill of it all drove me to be better, to be more. Whether that was to demand for more pay or a different co star who didn’t hate me.

When I finished my pancakes I went over to my computer. I didn’t have a meeting until after noon so I had plenty of time to mess around.

I went to my blog, my fake one that is. Updating my fans on my amazing breakfast. Then I went to my real one, Annabelle Cristi. It was there that I posted about myself in the third person. Others too, but me especially. I posted about Matias, driving up the rumor about us working together just so they would be more crushed when it turned out to be false. No matter how many fake rumors I spread though, they always came crawling back. The audience, that is. They craved caricatures of their idols, and I gave it to them.

I finished up my first post of the day and scrolled through my other socials for a while. Just boring compliments in my dms and comments.

“Your so amazing-“

“Collab with me-“

“How are you so beautiful-“

“Your acting brought me to tears-“

“They’re coming for you-“

“Queen-“

I stopped. That didn’t seem right. I clicked on one dm and read the rest.

“They’re coming for you soon Zaria. If you want to keep your life you need to listen to me. Meet me at Ridge field Park this Saturday at 4:30 pm. Wear a disguise.”

I shuddered a bit. This wasn’t like the other hate dms I got. Was this even a hate dm? What kind of person just leaves a menacing message like that? I deleted it and decided to get off my computer. Crazy people I swear. Think they can just get an exclusive meeting with me. But the start of the message hung in my mind. I loaded my computer back up and tried to recover the message. No dice, it was gone forever. I probably just misread it, I’m forgetting its contents already. So I should just forget about it.

I need to focus on my birthday party next week.

I was turning nineteen, a pretty big milestone. A whole year of being a legal adult, although I knew I was much more mature than just a nineteen year old. I was going to hold a big party for the fans. With a cap of 5,000 people it was going to be a war trying to get tickets. Just the kind of chaos my birthday deserved. Then after that I was going to hold a more private party for the people lucky enough to call me their friends. Only 500 people. I rolled my eyes, I expected there to be at least 1,000 worthy of being invited to it, but society is often disappointing.

I took out my planner. Nearly every detail was complete, all I had to do now was show up. I had people to decorate, they were probably doing it right now. With what I had planned it would probably take days to set up.

I did whatever I could to occupy my mind until the time for my meeting came up. I drove over to Lukas’ house. We decided it’d be more private than an office, and less likely for spy’s to leak our project online.

I knocked on the door and moved my hand in a way to create a more pleasant thump than the boring knock knock.

He answered almost immediately and opened the door in a way that said he didn’t want me to see inside. I put my hand around the door so he couldn't slam it in my face.

“What are you doing let me in Lukas.” I moved forward as to come in but he stood firm. He was only one year older than me but sometimes I swear he treated me like a child.

“Now Zaria, don’t kill me-“

“What did you do.” I narrowed my eyes.

“If you can just keep an open mind, maybe we can all get along..”

“We?” I pushed past him and walked in. I looked around for another person and saw Matias sitting at the counter. Smiling nervously and waving awkwardly. I put my hand on my hip and didn’t return a wave or a smile back.

Lukas ran up to me and smiled apologetically, seriously could he stop trying so hard already. Maybe he wasn’t any better than Matias.

“Zaria, why don’t you sit down.”

“Yes! Good idea, let's all sit down civilly.” Matias said.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me Lukas, I trusted you.” I didn’t sit down and stood over the boys on the couch.

“Come on Zaria, I think the director brothers could make magic! Especially with you involved, we could create something so amazing it would dominate the Oscars” Lukas tried smiling but he looked desperate. Matias just nodded in agreement.

He was trying to appease me, but he may have not been completely wrong. Although Lukas won more awards than Matias, Matias had still won Oscar’s before. I paced across the living room and glanced between them.

“What were you thinking?” I sat down on a chair on the side of the couch.

Lukas exhaled, obviously relieved. Matias smiled.

“I knew you’d come around! So we were thinking about a sci-fantasy movie right?”

I nodded.

“Well Matias was thinking we could add-“

They droned on for hours while I nodded every few minutes. With those two nerds out of the way I drove back to my apartment to prepare for my run. A body like mine doesn’t come easy, you have to work for it. So I got my running outfit and drove to Ridge Field park. That name tugged at me. Didn’t that dm say to meet them there? I almost didn’t want to go there to not run into them somehow, but I wasn’t going to let some crazy fan stop my routine. I hadn’t before and I wasn’t going to stop now.

I jogged along the path and listened to my music, glancing at the people around me. I calculated that they got about five minutes of exercise every day. And that was from walking to get to the refrigerator. One person caught my eye however. I was used to staring, in fact it was nearly just my life now. Which wasn’t a bad thing of course. But this girl wasn’t just staring, she was glaring. She was full on glaring at me. Not uncommon either, jealous people were inevitable. But something was different about this girl. I only saw her for a second before I passed her, but I felt this chill. Like she just took a look into my soul. I tried to shake it off and jogged a little faster. Suddenly wishing that my running routine was a little shorter.

I feel like I switched between past and present tense...

#guess what its happening this is a thing now #writeblr #writing #my writing

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derelictheretic · 8 months ago

Note

I gotta hear about SMFYaM Lola Jail Scene and/or Joseph staring at Dean like a creep. again. Those pieces sound so good!

I'll share some of the Lola Jail Scene bc it's gonna take a while to get to it and I just love experimenting with Lola! This is set just at the beginning of the peggies starting their assault on the jail.

I don't write with a comedic tone ever so it's refreshing writing her and I hope it's as fun for everyone else as it is for me!

"Let me at her!"

Lola screeched like an untamed banshee, hands shaking the metal bars on the cell Nancy had been thrown in—For her own safety more than anyone else's. Lola was fuming, ready to throttle her old confidant and ex-favourite-milf. Addelaide would hold that spot now, even if she didn't make her cookies, she was better than the lying traitor who sold out her baby duckling and best friends. Not to mention Earl! She thought for sure those two flirted a few times, she couldn't fathom how Nancy could throw him under the bus like that. For Joseph's sad flat ass no less. Lola couldn't wrap her head around it and she didn't want to, she wanted revenge.

"Give it a rest Lola we kinda have more important shit to be worrying about right now!" Tracey barked at her, walking past with an arm full of ammo. Lola kicked the bars and glowered down at the cowering older woman, Tracey was right of course. She would deal with Nancy later. She'd think about a good enough punishment for her while she was gone, none that Earl would allow but she could still think about them.

She followed after Tracey with a pout, dwadling while everyone else ran around her like headless chickens. Understandable; Peggies hitting them from all sides was something to warrant some stress. Lola paused by the armory as Tracey raced outside, her grey eyes eyeing the guns left. She groaned in frustration, shaking her head and continuing outside without grabbing one. She needed a bit more hands on stress relief right now and those tiny gun weren't gonna cut it. She needed to get dirty, really put her mind and body into it.

She didn't show it, and didn't really acknowledge it herself, but she was scared—Not for herself. She was a big girl, she could handle some religious rednecks, she'd dealt with plenty in her lifetime. But she was worried for her friends, Dean especially. He was new to the team, a little naive despite his age and he didn't seem like someone who could take a life. Which was something the situation very well called for. She mused over it as she hooked her hand around the handle of a metal shovel, climbing up the cars by the stone wall and jumping over it. She landed on the shell of a bus on the other side before jumping off onto the ground.

She hoped Dean was still kicking out there, she wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he got taken out because she slept through Earl calling her. Going to bed blackout drunk never did her any favours. She was just glad she'd been immune to hangovers for a while now, she would have started swinging a shovel around a lot earlier if she had that kind of headache.

#she's just a funny silly goofy lil gal yanno?????#a funny silly goofly lil gal about to unapologetically break some peggie necks <3 #misc: wips #misc: tag game #oc: Lola Darling #Far Cry Tag #dean answers #aceghosts

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guiltypleasure-girl · 2 years ago

Text

Just been sitting here, staring at the wall, feeling mesmerised and giddy and OH so warm and fuzzy and horny. You, my dear Cee, have blessed us all with a true Christmas miracle and it is just mwah *chefs kiss* - absolutely decadent, scrumptious, delectable and delicious - I am so well fed, so very full of cowboy festive cheer that I no longer need to celebrate on the 25th. Nothing can top this gift and if you don't mind, I shall proceed to lose my mind over it under the cut...

Dedicated to @guiltypleasure-girl who I’m so grateful to have made friends with this year and who, imho, draws the best Jack in all the lands. If you don’t already, follow her art page @guiltypleasure-art for the most gorgeous fanart.

First of all, ma'am, how dare you be so DAMN SWEET TO ME!!! A Palomino Christmas dedicated to me?? I am still in disbelief!!!! I am so happy that this story was able to bring us together and if my Jack art is the best it is only because you provide me with such inspiring and beautiful imagery as source material. I would be nothing without you and your brilliant cowboy Jack! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Cee!! Truly the best gift ever! 🥹💖

The normally put together cowboy ambles around the place like a headless chicken, leaving a trail of half-completed tasks in his wake. Tequila, in uncharacteristic discretion, follows two steps behind.

Okay, right off the bat, I AM OBSESSED! God, you know our boy is in trouble when Tequila has more sense in his brain!! As much as I love a put-together, confident Jack, I ADORE a nervous, love-sick Jack. He just wants it all to go well and that means he really does care for you (a.k.a. love you) and for that reason I am already deceased - cause of death: fatal levels of yearning.

Eggsy snickers. ‘Never thought I’d see the day. Ol’ cowboy Jack falls heads over heels for a bird -’ he screeches when the coffee-soaked rag hits him in the face, which sends Teak into hysterical laughter. ‘Oi! What the fuck, man!’

This whole section - what can I say? You've totally nailed the banter again! It was such a treat to see some interaction with the group and I LOVE LOVE LOVE the dynamic of teasing someone for being so obviously in love when it’s so out of character for them. I hereby deem you the master of banter (to be listed on your resume next to bulgetologist, of course).

‘I know. I’ve missed you being here.’ He reaches over and pulls your gloved hand towards him, presses a kiss to the back. You want to shuck off the leather and cup his whiskered jawline in your palm, push the well-worn hat off and twine your fingers into his hair -

Stop. I can't handle any more yearning. I'm already deceased and now you are attacking me with softness and sexiness in my grave.

‘Why not The Holiday? It’s literally the perfect American-British movie,’ you pitch in, which launches another furious tirade of debate at your end of the table.

How did you know I just watched this last night?? Talk about an immersive reading experience!!! And, of course, I'd sit through any sort of dinner, no matter the level of chaos, if it meant sitting cozied up to a broad, sexy cowboy and giving him smooches. *eternal sigh*

Your gaze drops downwards, the tip of your index finger testing the weight of the solid sterling pendant in the shape of a flask, Statesman emblazoned in delicate lettering -

A much smaller but exact copy of his belt buckle.

Cee!! Seriously stop!!! I can't handle the cuteness I need to punch a wall omg!!!! The hat is perfect but the necklace is PERFECT with a cherry on top! There better be a cowboy in my bed ready to clasp a matching necklace around my neck on Christmas Eve or I riot!!

for the lack of a better expression - his prominent endowment hangs heavy at the apex of his strong thighs. Not that you’re trying to look, but you can see the very heft of him through the fabric.

The absolute pièce de résistance, the timeless Cee signature, a magnificent and instant blush-inducing bulge description. Thank you, my friend, I will never get this glorious image of snowsuit Jack out of my head (and you know what that means... whips out my ipad and furiously starts sketching).

‘That’s it, you’re ridin’ me beautifully, darlin’,’ he growls into your ear, exhaling hot and heavy as he nips your collar bone. ‘Missed you so much.’

GOOD GAAAWWDDD I AM CONVULSING.

‘I won’t take it off, ever,’ you swear

No but I really wouldn't. I'm all for feminism but this man OWNS me.

‘Good,’ growls Jack, thrusting harder into you, making your breath stutter. ‘Keep me with you, darlin’ - always.’

You smile, fingers curled into his hair, stealing a tender moment as your noses bump and eyes meet with the easiest promise you will ever keep. ‘Always.’

BRILLIANT. SHOWSTOPPING. STANDING OVATION. I AM RUINED FOREVER AND I DON'T EVEN CARE.

Cee, this was truly a delight from start to finish and I can't thank you enough for bringing it into the world for all to enjoy. I never wanted it to end but at least I know there is more to come next year and I'm already giddy with excitement for what your brilliant mind will create!!!

A Palomino Christmas

Jack Daniels x f!reader

|| Palomino universe oneshot, out of chronological order as I haven't finished the series yet. Can be read as a stand-alone. ||

{ Fuck Yeah Holidays | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: You spend Christmas at the ranch with Jack. You thought the present you got him was inspired until you see him wearing it - the cowboy way.

Inspired by snowsuit anon and this adorable post (and a super cute nickname for a pony) sent to me by @aynsleywalker.

Warnings: !Ski suit action!, drinking, mention of food, gratuitous descriptions of the male bulge body, dirty talk, safe unprotected sex, feelings so fluffy. These holiday fics are for fun, so not as *rigorously edited* as my regular stories, please forgive any mistakes or plot holes!

Word count: 4.5k

Dedicated to @guiltypleasure-girl who I'm so grateful to have made friends with this year and who, imho, draws the best Jack in all the lands. If you don't already, follow her art page @guiltypleasure-art for the most gorgeous fanart ❤️

It’s always busy in the Stateman’s main kitchen on Christmas morning. The smokey burn of firewood warms the cozy space as the radio blares holiday tunes. Poppy presides over the operations at the head of the table - everything is planned down to the T and everyone has a role.

On any other Christmas day, Jack would be her sous-chef, the one she relies on to keep everyone on schedule and in their place.

But alas, today is not any other Christmas day.

He turns off the tap that Jack’s left pouring into the already full kettle, draining the excess water and putting it on the boil.

There’s one slice of bread in the toaster, while another lies forgotten on the table, which Teak slides into the free slot and pushes down the lever.

Jack pulls a jar of pickles from the fridge unseeingly, putting it on the table and walking away in search of a mug under three sets of watching, worried eyes. Teak replaces it with his friend’s favourite strawberry jam without a word.

While the oblivious cowboy’s back is turned, Teak motions his hand and forth across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing nope emphatically at the occupants of the kitchen table.

On his cue, Poppy clears her throat and speaks up, ‘Jack, sweetie, why don’t you go check on the horses after your toast? The stable boys want to leave work early today after doing their morning rounds.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he answers absent-mindedly, staring down into the empty mug in his grasp as if he’s lost his train of thought.

At that very moment, the toaster pops and Jack practically jumps out of his skin, stepping on Jameson’s paw where he’s lying on his rug in front of the fire, prompting an indignant yelp from the border collie and winces from around the table.

‘Sorry boy,’ he apologises and picks up his toast - burning his fingers - and stumbling over his feet to set his plate down. ‘Mornin’,’ he nods to the others without really registering who’s there.

Jack proceeds to butter his toast with such singular focus that he doesn’t notice when Tequila fills his still empty cup with coffee, only to knock it over immediately when a phone buzzes and his hand flies out to grab his. Ginger and Poppy trade concerned looks as he jumps onto his feet with another apology, snatching a tea towel to clean up the mess.

Eggsy, on potato peeling duty on the other side of the table, isn’t so diplomatic. ‘You’re jumpier than Bambi this morning, cowboy.’

Jack grunts noncommittally and chews on his toast, not rising to the bait.

‘Don’t be so nervous mate, we promise we’ll be on our best behaviour.’

Teak snorts from the kitchen counter where he’s making his PBJ. ‘I don’t know about England, but around these parts, lying on Christmas day is frowned upon.’

Eggsy replies high-handedly, ‘Can’t speak for you, Tequila, but I’ll be on my best behaviour.’

Ginger chuckles as Teak sits down at the table with his sandwich. ‘Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it.’

Jack points a forceful finger at the boys, one after the other. ‘I swear to the baby Jesus Christ, if you two don’t behave yourselves, there will be hell to pay.’

Ignoring the ruckus, Jack dusts the crumbs from his hands and shrugs on his jacket, grabbing a thermos and filling it up with fresh coffee. With a hurried later, he strides out of the warmth of the kitchen and into the frigid morning air.

Thermos tucked under his arm, Jack rubs his palms together, warming his fingertips with his breath as snow crunches beneath his well-worn boots. The ranch is blanketed in thick snow, a picture-perfect postcard landscape as it is every Christmas. The morning mist has yet to burn off, but he can tell by the peek of blue through the clouds that it will be a fine day.

If your flight is on time, you should be on your way by now. He’d wanted to pick you up from the airport, but you insisted that there’s no point in him driving all the way there when you already know the way. Depending on the conditions, it shouldn’t be long until you arrive.

His list of chores isn’t long this morning - the stable boys will be on duty until lunchtime - but still, he wants to tick all the boxes before you get here. Striding into the heated stables, he says howdy to the grooms and whistles, smiling as dozens of faces appear at the doors, ears pointed forwards in attention, snickering and whinnying at him.

This never gets old.

‘Mornin’ ladies and gentlemen,’ he calls out, wandering down the stalls, rubbing a velvety nose here and pulling on a furry ear there. ‘Who’s ready to stretch their legs this fine mornin’, huh?’

Starting at the end of the stables, he unlatches Bourbon’s door and ushers him out of the stall, then crosses the aisle to let out Tanqueray, Champ’s elderly but still supremely poised Friesian, who clops leisurely towards the exit. Zig-zagging back and forth, Jack whistles, jostles and chats to the horses, all smartly dressed in warm rugs, as they file out down the corridor and into the courtyard for a bit of morning exercise while the stable boys mucked out their stalls.

‘No loitering, ma’am,’ says Jack sternly when Poppy’s mare, Pie, idles in the middle of the building. He gives her a firm pat on the rump to get her moving and whistles at one of the cheeky Shetland ponies who’s snuck into someone else’s stall. ‘Half-Pint! What did I say about stealing your friends’ treats? Shoo, now!’

The stables empty, the echoes of hooves on the concrete ground fading, with Scotch being one of the last to exit. Looping back to make sure there are no dilly-dalliers, Jack’s surprised to find the palomino, who would normally be leading the charge towards the grazing fields, still lingering at the barn doors.

‘Whatcha doin’, boy?’ he calls out.

Scotch tosses his head and steps to the side -

And you appear.

With the biggest grin, you run towards him and fly into his arms.

Your cheeks are wet, the spray of snow powder melting when it hits your skin. It drifts all around you as Scotch eats up the white ground, the thundering hooves muted by the soft cushion of the untouched, overnight snow. The mountain air is sweet and pure and stingingly cold, you can barely feel your face anymore - but it might just be from how hard you’ve been smiling.

You feel like you’re in the middle of a Christmas movie. The lush, green landscape you remember so well from your trip months ago is now all coated in wintry glory, but you still recognise the contours of the land and the mountains. It’s your first time in the saddle since - the whistle of the winds in your ear is a song you remember all the words to, the burn in your out-of-practice muscles all over a familiar old friend.

And you’re happy.

Slowing Scotch to an easy trot as you approach the end of the trail, your breath mists in front of your face as you look down over the ranch, a scene straight out of a classic snow globe, thin wisps of smoke drifting from the chimneys of the wooden lodges dotted across the property.

Gently manoeuvring the palomino to a halt and giving him a pat on the neck, you turn to smile at Jack as he walks up beside you on Whiskey. ‘I’ve missed this so much.’

‘Me too,’ he answers, warm eyes on you.

You give him a sidelong glance. ‘You’ve been here the whole time, cowboy.’

Later. There will be time for all that later, preferably in front of a roaring fireplace.

You break the moment with an eyebrow arched in a challenge. ‘Race you to the stables?’

Jack grins. ‘You’re on, darlin’.’

Christmas dinner is in the main lodge, which you didn’t use during your trip in the summer. The intimate space is exuberantly decorated in red and gold, a huge, freshly cut pine tree stands proudly by the antique fireplace, a merry fire burning. The table is beautifully laid, silverware immaculately polished and fine china sit alongside holidays-themed napkins. A magnificent feast lines the length of the mahogany dining table comfortably seating eight.

But any kind of decorum stops there.

As the hours tick by and bottles of wine and sherry are emptied, the meal has descended into what Jack warned you in advance as ‘typical Kingsman chaos’. According to the cowboy, the whole Kingsman team comes to the ranch every summer for their annual company retreat, but only Merlin, Eggsy and Harry fly over for Christmas. And while their contingent is small, havoc is an inevitable conclusion where any number of the Kingsman are involved.

Desserts are still being passed around the table - sticky toffee pudding, pecan pie and Yule log - when Teak and Eggsy start to raise their voices and slap the table about British and American Christmas songs. They’re currently yelling - not singing - carols at each other, with Jameson barking excitedly in the background.

Tequila throws his hands up in frustration at Eggsy’s rendition of Twelve Days of Christmas. ‘Why is there a partridge in a pear tree? What the fuck is a partridge?’

Champ and Merlin are having a more civilised but no less intense debate about pies - specifically mince pies versus pumpkin pie as a holiday dessert.

‘Next year, old chap,’ declares Merlin. ‘I’ll bring mince pies with me and you’ll be eating your words, just you wait.’

Jack whispers in your ear. ‘He says that every year, but never does.’

You chuckle and turn your attention to Harry, who’s now insisting that they should put Love Actually up on the big projector screen after dinner, whereas Ginger and Poppy are lobbying for Elf.

‘Why not The Holiday? It’s literally the perfect American-British movie,' you pitch in, which launches another furious tirade of debate at your end of the table.

Jack mumbles under his breath. ‘Because they’re idiots and pointless, festive arguing is a winter sport around here.’

His arm is warm around your shoulders as you giggle into your mulled wine. ‘Is it like this every year?’

‘Yup,’ he answers, really popping the P. With a mild touch of embarrassment, he holds your amused gaze and asks, ‘Too much?’

Tipping your face upwards, you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

‘Just enough,’ you assure him as the corners of his eyes crinkle in the warmest smile.

You didn’t have time to drop off your suitcase at Jack’s cottage, which is a short drive from the ranch, when you arrived in the morning. Instead, with Champ’s blessing, you commandeered one of the guest cabins, all empty in the off-season - which is just as well. By the time midnight rolls around, it’s clear that no one is in any state to make their way back to their respective off-site houses.

Harry and the ladies retired to their borrowed rooms a little while ago, leaving you and Jack to round up the stragglers. You check on Teak, lying face down on the sofa, bundled up in his winter quilts in an aborted attempt to leave. A few steps over, you drape a blanket on Champ and another one on Merlin, who are passed out on armchairs which look comfortable enough to sleep in, socked feet up on matching ottomans. Eggsy is cuddling with Jameson in front of the fire, and Jack feeds the logs to make sure it burns till morning.

It’s bleak outside. Jack shields you from the worst of the winds, tucking you into his side as you trudge across the snow, the early start you’ve had catching up on you. Thankfully, the heating is already on in the cabin when you get there, and he starts a fire as well while you get ready for bed.

When you pad into the bedroom in your pyjamas, teeth brushed and makeup washed off, Jack looks up to see you holding a neatly-wrapped present, a shy smile on your lips.

Standing up from the fireplace, he dusts his hands and reaches for you, palms settling on the small of your back, leaning down to graze his still cold nose against yours. ‘Is that for me, darlin’?’

‘Maybe,’ you reply coyly. ‘Do you want to do presents now or tomorrow morning?’

‘Let’s do it now, I have to feed the horses early tomorrow,’ answers Jack, pecking you on the cheek. ‘Give me five minutes.’

The bed is cold, and you have to steel yourself to burrow into the icy cocoon of the thick covers, missing Jack’s warmth. He doesn’t make you wait long, re-appearing in just boxers, and a big box in hand, switching off all but the bedside lights.

Sliding under the duvet, he yelps when your icy feet tangle into his longer legs, making you laugh. His bare skin heats you up instantly as he wraps one arm around you and pulls you into his broad chest. You feel him hum when he asks, ‘You want to go first, darlin’?’

Blinking up at him, you answer nervously, ‘No - you first.’

He pushes the box your way and you sit up, pretending to shake the package to gauge what’s inside. Jack chuckles, his strong forearms dark against the beige quilt wrapped around his middle. Only his fingers give away his nerves, picking at loose threads in the fabric as you carefully unravel the wrapping paper.

Lifting the lid of the box, your lips part and you stare wordlessly at what’s inside.

‘Jack,’ you breathe. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Gently, you pull out the cowboy hat in tan suede, the smell of fresh leather comforting as you turn it over in your grasp, marvelling at the craftsmanship in the dips and swells of the construction.

‘Try it on, darlin’,’ he says, his shoulders relaxing in relief at your reaction.

You do, and of course, it fits perfectly. Shuffling onto your knees, you crawl closer to kiss him fully on the lips, tilting your head to the side so that his face fits under the brim of your hat. ‘Thank you, I love it.’

Jack arches an eyebrow. ‘You might want to check the box again, darlin’.’

Sitting back on your haunches, you send him an almost accusatory look. ‘You can’t give me two presents, cowboy.’

He shrugs with an insolent grin. ‘I’m a grown man, I’ll do what I like. ‘

Your eyes alight on the black velvet case at the bottom of the box, and you draw it out with careful fingers as if it will break. With one last glance at Jack, you gingerly lift the lid, feeling the hinges creak.

Jack watches you closely, his own breathing suspended as you stare down into your hands, thoughts whirring in his head. Is it too much, too soon? Is he comin’ on too strong? Would you even like it?

After the longest ten seconds of his life, you look up at him with soft eyes and brows drawn, a crack in your voice. ‘Jack.’

He gives you a lopsided smile and reaches for the box. ‘I went back to the same silversmith who made my belt buckle and asked him to make this.’

The chain is delicate in his big, weathered hands. It takes him a couple of tries, but he eventually manages to pry open the hinge of the clasp and holds out the necklace towards you in a question. ‘May I, darlin’?’

Turning around, the bed dips behind you as Jack shifts closer, cool silver kissing your décolletage as he fastens the clasp behind your neck. Your gaze drops downwards, the tip of your index finger testing the weight of the solid sterling pendant in the shape of a flask, Statesman emblazoned in delicate lettering -

A much smaller but exact copy of his belt buckle.

His words draw you out of your thoughts. ‘You like it?’

‘I love it,’ you correct him, twisting around to tackle him into the mattress, your knees around his waist as you loom over him, knocking off your hat so you can kiss him properly. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you.’

The pendant dangles from your neck, tickling him on the chin as he winds one big hand into your hair, his eyes following as it sways. ‘It looks good on you, darlin’.’

The warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest starts to recede as your eyes land on the present you got for him on the bed. The giddiness you felt when you found it is a distant dream, instead, anxiety threatens to take root deep in your head. If you got something from Amazon tonight, is there any chance that they could deliver tomorrow -

‘Darlin’. You’re thinking too loudly,’ says Jack soothingly, chucking you gently under your chin. ‘What’s wrong?’

You shake your head. ‘I got you a really stupid present. Let’s forget about it - I’ll get you something else.’

His brows draw together in concern as he grabs your wrists and pulls you flush against his chest so that there’s nowhere else to look but at him. ‘Don’t say that, there’s no such thing as a stupid present. Whatever you got me, I’m sure I’ll love it.’

You inhale deeply, chewing your bottom lip. ‘You mentioned a few weeks ago that your leather jacket and fleeces are too bulky and it’s hard to move around in all the layers when it's cold.’

He nods encouragingly. ‘That I did.’

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you reach out and drag the package towards him. ‘Well, I saw this at my local shop, and thought it might help.’

Jack gives you a reassuring smile and leans back into the pillows, grabbing the present excitedly. He pulls you against his side, as if he’s trying to squeeze all the self-doubt out of you, the gift draped across your laps as he starts to unwrap it.

You’re a bundle of jitters when he rips off the wrapping paper with impatient fingers, and the lightweight and puffy blue fabric comes into view.

Jack shakes out the neatly folded one-piece. ‘Is it - a ski suit?’

You nod and point out the black contrasting detailing on the front of the suit. ‘It's light and it's warm. Look at the western design with the single point pockets - I couldn’t not get it for you.’

Jack chuckles, the sound warming you as his arm tightens around your shoulders. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. So simple, yet so clever.’

‘You like it?’ you ask in the smallest voice.

‘I love it,’ he grins, drawing you in for another kiss. ‘Thank you, darlin’.’

Finally assuaged, you sag against him, a yawn creeping up on you as the tension in your body recedes. ‘You want to try it on now?’

Tucking you in, he says, ‘I’ll try it tomorrow, it’s been a long day for you, darlin’.

Putting your hat and his ski suit on the bedside table, Jack turns off the light, his body immediately seeking out yours under the sheets, claiming every inch of you with a leg between your thighs, front plastered to your back, palms under your ratty pyjamas top, splayed across your naked skin.

It’s been too long.

Nose tucked behind your ear, his arms full of you - finally here after months of feeling your phantom weight in his embrace - the night slips away as the snow falls outside.

It’s too warm under the covers when you wake up, even though Jack’s side of the bed is empty. You stretch lazily, the clock reads 8am but the fire is still going strong, he must have stoked it when he got up.

You decide to make some coffee and wait for him to come back before venturing to the communal kitchen for breakfast. While the water boils, you smile as you fiddle with the necklace sitting on your chest, warm and reassuring against your skin.

The smell of caffeine fills the cabin as you sip from your mug, and before long, you hear Jack stomping up the stairs, humming a country tune in his raspy baritone as he approaches the door.

Pouring him a steaming cup, you say, ‘Hey, I made you some coffee -’

You trail off when you turn around.

Your morning brain can’t quite grasp the picture in front of you. Jack’s still wearing his cowboy hat, his nose red from the cold. Vaguely, you realise he’s wearing the present you gifted him - and you congratulate yourself on the fact that it fits him like a damn glove.

The ski suit accentuates his broad shoulders and tapers in at his waist in a flattering cut, the zipper drawn all the way up to the hollow of his throat. He’s replaced the detachable belt that came with the ski suit with his own, the flask bottle buckle popping against the blue.

But the bottom half - that you have trouble comprehending. It takes you a beat longer to realise why.

He’s wearing full-length cowboy chaps over it.

Chaps are essentially leather trousers with the seat cut out, and Jack's wearing them with his belt looped through the straps. You know he only uses them when it’s muddy, to keep his jeans clean. He didn’t wear them at all on your pack trip, but you’ve seen a peek on Facetime in the rainy months in between. And now that you're seeing them in person, you decide that like them - a lot.

Your gaze, slow as molasses despite being completely unburdened by shame, slides all the way down to the triangle of blue framed by the negative space in the brown chaps where - for the lack of a better expression - his prominent endowment hangs heavy at the apex of his strong thighs. Not that you’re trying to look, but you can see the very heft of him through the fabric.

Jesus H. Christ. It’s too fucking early to be sinning.

When Jack realises that you’re staring, he says somewhat apologetically, clearly oblivious to the merry tangent your mind has gone off on. ‘Sorry, I know I’m not meant to wear it this way, but I didn’t want to get it dirty -’

You shake your head hastily. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s - perfect.’

Something breathless in your tone catches his ear, and he tilts his head to the side, one large hand coming to rest on his hip, thick fingers spread obnoxiously wide over the side of the chaps. The beginning of a cocky smile lifts the corner of his mouth. ‘Yeah, darlin’? You like it?’

Leaving your mug on the counter top, you bite your lip and give him your best teasing grin. ‘Why don’t you turn around so I can take a better look, cowboy?’

He arches an eyebrow at your boldness, but decides to indulge you. Voice dropping an octave, he rasps, ‘Better take a seat for this, darlin’.’

You grin and do as you’re told, turning the kitchen chair around so that you’re facing him, running your eyes up and down his frame as he steps into your space, narrow hips swaying to a beat you can’t hear. Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he suddenly turns with a dramatic flourish and arches his back, granting you an unrivalled view of his behind framed by the chaps cut off at the top of his thighs, the ski suit tight against his pert bottom.

‘Enjoy the view, darlin’?’ he asks, grinning over his shoulder at you.

You swat him on one cheek playfully, and when he swoops suddenly into your lap in a classic burlesque move, you squeal, ‘Jack!’

Bending his knees, he grinds into your thighs as you laugh, the ski suit soft on your skin while the leather chaps scrape against your bare shins. Turning around, he reaches up to tug the suit’s zipper downwards in a slow, deliberate course, and he purrs, ‘What say you if ol’ cowboy Jack gives you a proper show, hmm?’

You inhale sharply as the white wife beater underneath comes into view, and you reach up to help him push one side of the ski suit off his shoulder, revealing the firm line of his left arm.

‘Thought that was more of Teak’s thing,’ you quip, licking your lips as your eyes skim down his front to settle on the weighty bulge now straining against the front of the suit, your eager fingers pulling him closer by his belt buckle.

Gripping the edge of the table, he traps you into your seat, his stare dropping to the matching pendant resting on your now heaving bosom, taking in your blown pupils as he grins. ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

‘Aren’t I the luckiest girl,’ you muse, taking off his hat and flinging it onto the table, his hungry stare alone pinning you in place when you drag him down to you by his lapels.

Warm lips part yours and he delves into your mouth, kissing you deeply. The promise of more leaves you chasing him as he draws back with a drawl. ‘You’re about to get a whole lot luckier, darlin’.’

The thick material of the ski suit is almost pillowy as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. It rubs gently on your nipples as you rock against Jack, arms wound around his neck while his desperate hands cup and knead the plump swell of your ass, dragging you up and down his hard cock.

‘That’s it, you’re ridin' me beautifully, darlin’,’ he growls into your ear, exhaling hot and heavy as he nips your collar bone. ‘Missed you so much.’

His chaps are slippery under your bare thighs from your slick, and you clench at the sensation of being completely naked on top of him when he’s still fully clothed, only his belt and zipper undone so that he can fuck up into you, the rickety kitchen chair groaning under the weight of the two of you.

‘Missed you too,’ you whisper against his lips, crying out when he hits a particularly deep spot inside you. ‘Yes, yes, harder, Jack.’

Leaning forward, he takes one breast into his hot mouth, one eye on your necklace that’s sticking to your sweaty skin before licking you between your tits and over the silver pendant, the salt sharp on his tongue. He hums, ‘You wear it so well.’

‘I won’t take it off, ever,’ you swear, throwing your head back when he scrapes his teeth against the column of your neck, so full of him that your knees quake.

‘Good,’ growls Jack, thrusting harder into you, making your breath stutter. ‘Keep me with you, darlin’ - always.’

You smile, fingers curled into his hair, stealing a tender moment as your noses bump and eyes meet with the easiest promise you will ever keep. ‘Always.’

Notes: Am I allowed to pick favourites? I'm not? I'm doing it anyway -- this is my favourite out of all the holiday fics, no question! I'm so soft for cowboy Jack and his darlin' 🥹 We've been spending time with just the two of them so far in the series, so it was really fun to explore the group situations, especially with the Kingsman involved!

I hope you enjoyed this fluffy interlude. Wishing you all a very merry Christmas and thank you so much for reading ❤️

#sensational cee has done it again!#it is once again cowboy yearning hours #jack daniels x reader #fic rec

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