#and he still recognized his old master even in disguise :((

[wolfythewitch]

one last job

[corollaservant]

Silver // Geto x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You grew up together, small village and a need to get out. He was always selfish. (5.1k)

Warnings: child abuse, childhood friends, noncon/dubcon, yandere, loosely follows Geto's downfall/canonical setting, derogatory use of ''monkeys'' (it's Geto c'mon), violence, drowning, they get their ears pierced so idk if that grosses you out.

A/N: angst n smut for Suguru, that's all. i really said here have a fic with the basic sugu trope for the nth time.

You always wanted a doll. The dolls weren’t like the ones you saw on the black and white advertisements in your mom’s weekly newspapers. They were pretty—had doe eyes and a cute hat, a white jacket over a pink knitted dress, their hair was almost always in pigtails with wrapped-around ribbons. You always wanted this one doll. 

‘’Sweetie, we can’t afford a doll, you know your father’s hardly making ends meet.’’ Your mom told you over dinner, while your father remained silent. You never knew whether he had nothing to say because he didn’t care or he felt sad. You weren’t close, maybe you weren’t sure because you were afraid of him.

Father used to yell, he wasn’t a patient man. Mom was late to make food? Yell. Clean his clothes? Yell. When you came late from school, he’d yell. Your mom justified it, he was exhausted, working all day in the field. But you really wanted that doll. 

‘’Mom, please! I will pay you back.’’ You desperately begged, you were only ten, of course you couldn't pay back. Your mom sighed and let you down after that. You didn't cry, only crawled to your bed as you silently begged for the doll to magically appear when you’d wake up. 

The old lady noticed you frequently. You’d walk for half an hour after school (the shop was the only addition the village had ever gotten and while diametrically opposite from your house, you were more than willing to take the extra mile) — only to stand outside. You hesitated to touch the window, remembering this one time your dad pushed you and you fell down the stairs because you’d made mom upset. You had touched the kitchen window. Your mom cried, your dad had eaten his soup in silence and gone to bed. You wanted to ask the lady the price, you wanted to know if there was another way but while just ten, you were smart for your age. You knew that regardless of the answer, the doll would never be yours. 

It was hide and seek day with your friends. The village’s stadium-like field offered a variety of hidden spots (behind a bleacher, the toilets, the church across or the trees around). The bleachers screeched but you all were pros at disguise so it worked most of the time. Upon getting there, you saw the usual faces, some kids you knew, one of them lived close to you. Across the field sat a boy you didn’t know. Funny, you thought. You knew almost everyone in the village and he seemed of school age, how come you didn't recognize him? Daylight fell behind the roofed bleachers, signaling your time to go. You wouldn’t want to make father upset.

‘’This is the last time you talk about the doll.’’ He told you that night as he brought a hand to your face, his tone was stern but he seemed calm. Your right cheek burned but you couldn't cry. You had realized that the more he rejected you, the more immune you became—pain stopped having emotional ties. You still wanted that goddamn doll.

You were sent to your room but even then tears wouldn’t spill. Your window allowed you to jump from a reasonable height and it was past your parents bedtime so you found yourself in the cold night within minutes. You had no watch, not that it mattered anyway as your feet dragged you towards the woods. You knew your way in, you had mastered it back when dad used to drag you to the fields— people really were afraid of forests, as if they would suck them in, leave them confined but the trees never harmed, they just listened. How many times had they heard you cry? A lighter stolen from your father’s nightstand (the one in his drawers, you did not want another altercation) led you down a slope. You weren’t afraid, you knew it led to a creek, an ardent stream flowing day and night. People from the village used to come often (if they had the strength, they now visited wells closer to the center) — the water was cold and clear, maybe too cold for a swim, you’d realized once you experimentally submerged your feet in it and they froze. 

‘’Why can’t I have that doll, dad?’’ You cried, the water drowning your muffled sounds, it soothed you and allowed you to be yourself. ‘’Why, why why!’’ You screamed, tears fell down your cheeks, as you frantically wiped them with your hand, wincing at the feeling to your right, father really made a point with that one. ‘’Why can’t you tell him I want that doll, mom?’’ And you cried and cried until a sound — a rustle of leaves startled you. 

‘’You shouldn’t be here.’’ A voice rang behind you as you quickly turned around. The boy with the dark hair and oddly colored eyes, you thought they looked purple but that wouldn't make sense and he was too far away this morning.

‘’W-who are you?’’ You retreated, you were too close to the stream. 

‘’Just go home, it’s dangerous to be out there.’’ He said as you furrowed your brows.

With childish stubbornness you told him that it was none of his business but the more you talked the more he approached you and you suddenly lost your balance, your back dragging you towards the water as a hand grabbed you and pulled you back up. 

‘’Please leave now.’’ The boy said firmly and let his hand go. You lowered your head ashamed and lit your father’s cheap Zippo to guide yourself back home. Who was this guy?

-

His name was Geto, you found out because you asked your fourth grade teacher, who told you she couldn’t ever reach his parents to ask why they never sent their son to school. Legislation was non-existent, the village had no childcare protection otherwise you would have been sent away years ago. No one cared after all; children born there were raised to become farmers or whatever they were forced into. 

Geto never showed up to school, he would however show up after, while all of you played in the field, silently observing and reading from a book. You didn’t think he could read. 

You had once invited him to come play but he had declined the offer, ‘’No, thank you.’’ He had said as you asked for his name. ‘’Suguru.’’ Pretty name. 

-

The pain was enough to make you cry this time. 

‘’Want to tell me who the hell this Suguru is and why he left a stupid doll for you?’’ He shouted— his hands had already left a mark on your arms from pushing you, his nails had dug inside. The slap after was violent and strong and it made you dizzy while you coughed, there was no blood but your jaw hurt. 

‘’I- he’s from my school I— d-don’t know anything... about a doll..’’ You choked while his eyes burned. It wasn’t often he was that lively, you guessed anger really was a strong motivator.

‘’Well, you finally got your stupid doll. What is it, did he fuck you?’’ He spat as your mother interrupted.

‘’Honey! She’s only ten!’’ And she cried, and you cried and he threw the beautiful, pink dressed, hand sewn doll to your face, it hit your forehead and you stumbled and fell to the floor. 

‘’Stupid, all of you are stupid.’’ He growled and went upstairs. Your mother gave you a pitiful look and silently left for the kitchen. Your weakened arm reached out to the doll beside you.

She’s pretty, thank you, Suguru.

You shakily grabbed it, a teardrop stained the beige thread and brought it to your chest.

But Suguru. The damage you’d done.

-

You had never seen him with his eyes wide open before. It was kind of funny, you had to admit, he looked at you—his expression a mixture of shock and pain, what had he done? The kids (your friends) hadn’t really said anything, they were all familiar with your family’s background, experiencing more or less the same themselves. But Suguru... he was different. 

‘’Thank you for the doll.’’ You smiled, he hadn't.

His eyes had darkened back then, his mouth formed a tight line as he apologized. 

‘’I.. didn’t know.’’ He said, ‘’I’m sorry, I– I just heard you talking about it, you know.. that night and thought it might have cheered you up. I’m sorry.’’ He spoke and you reassured him that you appreciated it. You did. It was like he knew which doll you liked, the one he chose was the one you desperately wanted. You played with her every night, talking to her in silence and telling her that Suguru was a nice kid. Yeah, you liked Suguru and felt sorry internally for thinking of him as responsible for your fathers actions at first.

But Suguru didn’t understand—a need suddenly appeared that day. When he had first seen you, he knew you were careless. Knew you were angry and hurt. The words that came out of your mouth concealed emotions he wasn’t all too familiar with. On the contrary, he found the passion and pain intriguing. He didn’t think he’d ever expressed the two. When he saw you on the field, weak, trembling, the doll held firmly in your arms as you thanked him with your bruised eyes, that was when the feeling awakened in him.

Suguru always had a strong sense of justice. He hated whomever stole from the shops (he knew the suspects and would throw gravels at them), he helped injured animals by bringing them to a tree house he’d built on his own, he stopped fights and hated exploitation towards the defenseless. Your sight alone hadn’t awakened his sense of justice, no, that was almost as innate as his sense of hunger—you made him want to protect. You made him feel a need as basic as hunger to protect you. You didn’t deserve it and he was not one to forget.

In an ironic way, the incident brought you both closer. You would hang out daily after school (your efforts to convince him to come were fruitless), you’d take a walk towards the woods, the stream under the steep slope had been your secret hideout. You didn’t need to lie to your parents, they still thought you played in the field while you were with Suguru. As for Suguru’s parents, that you didn’t know about. He didn’t speak much and when he did, he told you about his plans to save the world. From what exactly, he didn’t even know himself. Days turned to months and months into years as you and Suguru grew older, still teenagers but doing other things now, such as buying alcohol with Suguru’s money (you never asked and he always wore his father’s clothes; somehow he convinced clerks he was of age), drove around in his dad’s car and got both your ears pierced. Well... he had them stretched and you helped with that.

You’d never forget that day—you were equipped with needles and xylocaine, it was apparently a numbing anesthetic. Both of you knew nothing about proper sterilization, you hadn’t even heated or marked the spot you wanted, all you had was a needle and dreams. Your piercings were easier, it was after all a small hole and it burned like hell but that was nothing. Suguru’s on the other hand had been a torture. It was understandable that for someone without an already pierced earlobe, stretches as a first was masochism itself. But Suguru didn’t utter a word. Not when the needle (cold and dirty) pierced the lobe. Not when the silver stretch couldn’t squeeze through the bloody ear. Not even when you felt the excess skin on your hands and you winced, kind of disgusted. You often wondered how Suguru always maintained composure and secretly admired him. If only you weren’t that weak. The stretch operation was deemed successful and celebrated accordingly: with cheap liquor and cigarettes (for the occasion). It wasn’t even two days later, when you noticed Suguru’s earlobes. Black gauges decorated them instead of the initial silver stretches, which you’d told him to let heal at least for a week, his lobes were in bad condition.

He was always selfish. 

-

The last time you talked was a year ago. One year and fifty-three days. He hadn’t come back, he didn’t have anyone he cared to visit. He had been acting strangely this one time he came to pick up clothes, looking above people’s shoulders, scratching his neck and forehead, contemplating. He looked malnourished and joyless.

When you found a handwritten note (how you missed his handwriting) with a simple “come to spot” a year later, you felt your heart race. It had a time and an S. at the bottom. You were hardly surviving at the time, school almost came to an end, an adult already and you hadn’t even graduated and your dad was becoming harder on you. There wasn’t much thought on your after school plans, all you wanted was to get away. To escape. The rest would come later.

The sun was done shining when you stepped down the known slope, the volume of the stream, as if nothing had changed, threatening to drown life on its way. You’d sat on your back, looking at the sky above as day and night merged in the interim.

A flame nearby caused you to stand up. What had happened? Where was he? Faint animal noises and movement could be heard but the slope was deep and you’d have to climb up, which would take you some time and then... what about him? Should you run, go look for him? You were about to climb back up when a shadow casted above you. There he stood, in what you presumed a school uniform and a bloodied face, dark hair swept back and falling down his shoulders while his eyes landed on you. You took a step back. 

‘’W-what happened? Is everyone alright? Are you alright!’’ You shouted, why did you shout? The words mixed up. He could only smile as he kneeled, jumped and landed in front of you. You examined the blood up close—it had started to dry, leaving crusts under his eyes, which he scratched before he spoke. 

‘’It’s alright, I’m here.’’ He spoke softly, almost whispering and apologetically smiled. Something seemed off. What wasn’t he telling you? What were those voices and why was it quiet all of a sudden? Your nostrils flared, a strong smell of smoke made you dizzy. 

‘’S-suguru.. what's—what’s going on? We have to go look, maybe someone’s hurt, maybe they need—’’

‘’I said, I’m here.’’ He raised his voice an octave, same smile on his face, making his eyes crinkle, but it felt odd. It felt forced.

‘’I know what happened to them.’’ The fake smile fell about as quickly as it’d appeared, each word equalled a step toward you. You were moving closer to the angry stream behind, you had to cough from the smoke entering your lungs.

‘’W-what do you mean you know? What happened!’’ You thought you yelled, maybe you hadn't, your voice cracked, cutting the question in half.

‘’I killed them.’’ He said with the same ease he’d propose a ride in his dad’s car. He noticed your eyes widen, your hands covering your mouth from the smoke that would soon engulf you both fully, flames he had set on a village that didn’t matter at the end.

You blinked; he presumed this was the part you’d start crying and lashing out so he inhaled.

‘’Aren’t you happy? Your parents are gone.’’ He heard you yelp. He was really doing you a favor, all these incompetent people you surrounded yourself with had to be gone. Sure, your parents weren’t your choice but you’d be better off without them anyway.

‘’W-why...’’ You couldn't breathe properly, your lungs were filled with smoke as your heart palpitated abnormally, you tried—tried like hell—to scream but syllables came out broken, constricted and incoherent and the more you tried to make your chords work, the more you lost your voice. Your eyes shed tears in silence, they spilled on your clothes as if on cue—you couldn’t approach him, you were terrified as you looked around. For help? You didn't know.

‘’What are you looking for? I’m right here.’’ He said as he took a step closer. 

‘’Don’t touch me!’’ You choked—it was barely audible.

‘’What did you say?’’ His brows furrowed. 

‘’I-I said– don’t touch me!’’ You managed and he sighed.

‘’After everything I’ve done for you...You know, I really could’ve just killed you before. You are after all useless to society. You can’t even see them.’’

Killed you? Useless? The eyes you used to know didn't belong to him anymore, someone else's blood distorted them. You found yourself thinking about his face more than what you just heard. Had he killed them all? Your parents? His parents? Your old classmates? You sobbed but he continued to look down on you and talk.

‘’Everyone’s gone, for you. And that’s my thank you? Your parents, the stupid kids from school, the doll lady…’’ 

‘’Why! What have they ever done to you?’’ Your knees betrayed you, you felt the ground beneath you.

‘’They never cared about you. The old lady would never give you that doll for free. She hated you being outside her window everyday, what a nasty child she called you, did you know that? Your dad? Fuck,now if that wasn’t a blessing! This cunt abused you and your mother for years... well, your mom had to go too, there’s no way a conspirator gets off the hook that easily. As for everyone else... they were just useless, you know? Thinking, feeling, cursing, swearing. Disgusting beings create us all more problems. You know, you ought to be an exception to this.’’

‘’I- I want to go. L—Let me go..’’ You stood up, he wasn’t holding you; you felt like a hostage. Why?

‘’You're sick...’’ You continued, a disgust behind your swollen eyes as he squinted his. 

‘’I'm sick?’’ His eyes, though you couldn’t see much, lit up under a moon trying to glow behind smoke clouds. 

‘’That’s funny for you to say because last I remember you were weak and a victim, not me. Seriously, I thought you’d be happier about it. I granted you temporary freedom, shouldn’t you be a bit more grateful? I always wanted to protect you...’’ His steps brought him millimeters apart, one more step and you'd be gone with the stream. 

‘’I always wanted to be there for you.. I thought I felt something every time I looked at you. You were so... vulnerable and exposed, I’d be there for you. But you know what?’’ He took a step forward as you fell — he was quick to catch your waist this time. 

‘’I realized, I just fucking hate you.’’ He spits as his breath hits your face, you shut your eyes and turn your head away. 

His arm pushes your shoulder down, forcing you to kneel on the ground, your knees sting as he continues. 

‘’I asked myself, why should I protect the weak? There must be some flaw within them that makes them stupid, don’t you agree? Why should you have to endure your father’s abuse instead of doing something about it? Why’d you have to cry on my shoulder because you were too weak to act on it? You had to come here to cry about it, remember? Pathetic.’’ He says, face filled with revulsion.

The pain in your knees is nothing compared to that in your chest, you break with each word that comes out of his mouth, he seems passionate—a true hatred reflecting on his eyes and you wish to be dead in that moment. 

‘’W-why..why–’’ You try to fill your lungs with air as you suddenly feel a leg on your ribs, a kick that sends you almost in the water—he’s kicked you and you’re lying on hard ground while he’s still standing.

‘’Why,why,why. Shut up already. I told you why. I do not like the weak and you aren’t an exception. See, I could have you killed so easily.’’

He smiles as his palm grips your scalp and you’re being dragged all the way to where soil meets the stream, pain hits different spots on your spine along the way. You don’t have time to understand what’s happening until your head is immersed in the water.

Cold. Dark. No air. You can’t think, it feels like an eternity before your head’s out and you gasp—lungs filled more with water than smoke and you wish to die. 

‘’S..st–’’ You can’t continue, his palm brings your numbed limbs and spinning wet head close to his, the dried blood touches your cheek. 

‘’There’s one thing I’d like, before we say goodbye.’’ He breathes on your face, his eyes linger on your drained lips. 

‘’I’d like to see the weak in you one last time.’’ His lips are on yours, they feel so warm and you’re shivering, trembling under his touch as his tongue slides without a second in your dried mouth. His saliva soaks the perimeter of your palate and your mouth doesn’t move—water washes off some blood on him. 

‘’Will you kiss me or have a swim again?’’ He asks ever so politely and you sob.

‘’P-please...’’ But this mustn’t have been the right answer because you find yourself underwater, this time it lasts longer (or so you think) before you resurface and gasp. You wish for an end.

‘’Let’s try again, hm?’’ He says, as he brings his lips back on yours, a warm tongue pushes past them, salivating in your dry throat.

You kiss him back, softly and slowly, following his rhythm as his hands already search for your wet chest, slender fingers trail down your neck and poke at the crevices. They stop at your sternum, groping the skin and he growls in your mouth, you move mechanically as your heart shatters.

You used to love him. You never told him of course, that would be stupid, you didn’t think he’d ever love you back—well, in your defense you didn't think he could love anyone back but you did. The first time he gifted you the doll, when you cried on his shoulders, when you pierced his ears. Looking back, he wasn’t always selfish. 

He continues the journey of his hands, his mouth is still attached to yours, it shouldn’t feel good, but it feels warm, and you need more heat, you’re freezing and can’t breathe. He hums as he finds your skirt, perfect and accessible, he thinks. You’re shuddering under his touch. He can't tell whether it's from the cold water or not but he doesn't mind. 

A finger finds your slit over your panties, as he vertically traces your skin along the way. He starts from your belly button, passes over your clit and teases in between folds, a light touch that upsets you. 

‘’Stop.’’ You whisper, weakened and confused. Wet and cold. But he doesn't.

He is rubbing your cunt slowly, he has removed his mouth and only plants soft kisses sporadically; a kiss each time he rubs up and down, tender and laced with care as the first moan escapes your lips and he catches it with his mouth. He takes it, you’d be embarrassed to let him know you enjoy this, it’s okay. He doesn't want to ridicule you, just to show you world order, that's all. 

Your underwear gets pushed aside as warm fingers now touch your bare entrance, he had gathered heat from your cunt and his spit—he had to spit, you weren’t that wet. But that would change, he was confident in it. 

His slender fingers part your lower lips slowly as he thrusts one in your cunt. It’s not violent but it’s enough to push your body upward as you sigh, a mixture of unwarranted pleasure and disgust by the predicament. He likes your soft sigh, he wants more.

‘’It’ll feel better, I promise.’’ He smiles gently and you fight the urge to gag, your cunt suddenly makes disturbing noises, as he now works two fingers deep within you, steady pace, straight in the middle. A thumb brushes past your clit, as he removes both fingers and circles it slowly... so slowly you melt, you feel like you ache but.. what is it? It's an ache you like, it's an ache you can't fight and don't want—but you can't do anything about it and—

‘’I think this should work.’’ His hand is removed and brought to his mouth to taste you. 

“Sweet.” He smiles. 

His pants are quickly removed, the need with which he hurries is comical—under other circumstances you’d laugh, you had never seen him so impatient and unreserved but it’s different now, now that he almost drowned you and is about to kill you. Why couldn’t this just end? 

You don’t look at him, you don’t want to, but you make out an arm that brushes against his groin as he slowly moves it up and down his cock. He likes the sight, it’s almost like straight out of a painting: you sprawled out, wet in every sense, a smoke filled scenery behind you and your precious, weak cunt for him to savour. Yeah, that was this day’s highlight, he thinks and grins. 

His thoughts excite him, precum exits his slit with each stroke as he kneels down and plants a delicate kiss on your knees. 

‘’I’d always protect you.’’ He murmurs, as a hard cock slides in between your legs and you draw a sharp breath. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts like crazy, he is hurting you with his size, he fills out your whole cunt, you feel like you can’t take anymore and then— then he pushes more, slowly, bit by bit until you shriek, begging for him to stop. 

‘’I--is too much! S-suguru–” You wince, as he carelessly continues.

‘’Who’s Suguru?’’ He frowns, a hand coming to clasp around your neck and he stays still. Your cunt can’t adjust but he’s not doing it to help you, he wants an answer.

‘’It’s Geto now.’’ He grumbles as he starts moving in your walls while you squeeze instinctively.

You are too tight, he takes it you’ve never been fucked before, makes sense and yet he likes it better this way. Your face distorts in pain but you’ll soon feel better, he knows because he was a virgin last year too. How he wished for this moment to come. Everything was perfect, you were perfect, your cunt was perfect, your eyes... perfect. Maybe the weak had something to offer after all. A blind faith and a good heart.

‘’S-Suguru–’’ You wrongly moan and a palm slaps across your hurt cheek, a flashback of your dad’s hand making your skin crawl, it was the same spot. Your walls are too tight to take him and he fights the urge to groan.

‘’Last time.. unless you want a bath, pretty.’’ He says as he thrusts his cock repeatedly toward the same direction, your cervix—hitting a bunch of soft, vulnerable spots along the way, fuck, you were so perfect and untainted, he wishes you were different, maybe like him.

He’d take you with him on his journey to cleanse the world from filthy creatures that polluted it, that had his friends dead, that cost the Jujutsu High lives daily, that had his friend constantly on stupid missions and for whom? Ungrateful filthy pigs—no, they weren’t pigs, at least pigs knew their place, they were monkeys, always eager for more, for power that didn’t belong to them, monkeys ready to snatch and never give; disregarding consequences for all others. If only you weren’t one of them. 

He watches your pretty mouth contract, your head arched back and eyes closed in shame as he brings you closer, he can tell by the way you squeeze his length inside, shit, you’re making his cock too wet, your slick smudges your thighs and squelching sounds almost cover your tormented sighs each time he sinks into you. 

‘’D–Does that feel good?’’ He asks while you pant, tears fall down the sides of your face, a red mark of his fingers on your left cheek but you don't answer.

‘’Answer–agh..answer me.’’ He orders, picking up his pace until you can’t anymore.

‘’Y-yes!’’ You cry out, stinging nettles dig in your back contrasting the pleasure in your core that grows—such a lewd thing, you’d come to hate yourself for it. If you were to live, of course.

He’s close too, thrusts becoming uncalculated and erratic yet never really seeming to stop being pleasurable, a rough thumb now circles around your swollen nub, making your legs jerk.

‘’Fuck–Sugu—fuck!’’ You clench around him, the heat coiling low ready to betray you and you see him part his mouth. He doesn't correct you.

‘’Let go baby, I love you.’’ He whispers as you shut your eyes and it's these words that have you ride out an orgasm so intense, you choke on moans and wrap your wounded legs around him. Arms circle his back as his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you as he slides his cock as deep as he can, pads of his fingers removing wet strands from your forehead; he cusses out.

‘’Fuck, mine—forever.” He grunts and finishes inside, nibbling on your neck, as your tangled legs bring him even closer, breaths synchronizing where your chests meet.

He stays within your silky walls, relishing any moment he can before he removes himself, leaving you split, stained and quivering. He lifts up the elastic of his pants. 

His time is running out, the spectacle in front of him clouds his reason—you look so pretty, with his cum oozing from your hole, your ashamed hands covering your chest and your eyes waiting for his next move. If only you weren’t flawed. If only you weren’t weak.

To kill you would be easy, he only stalls in case you want to add any last words. And you do. 

You look at the man who used to be a boy, the one who gifted you the thing you wished for most in the world; not the doll, but love and you smile. Your left eye is bruised and can hardly open, one of his blows must’ve accidentally landed on the wrong side of your face or maybe it’s the water pressure, you can’t think, as you open your mouth to speak. 

‘’Behind you.’’ You whisper, as your right eye catches a small, bug-like shadow buzzing around his hair, ready to attack his neck. 

You only notice his eyes widen before darkness envelops your peripherals. 

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac # 47 : Monkey in the doghouse

Wukong has a plan. It's not his best plan.

Wukong was fuming with anger. His blood was boiling with repressed rage. He longed to let it go. To let it explode. But he held on.

Winter had just begun to peek from its slumber when the pilgrims reached the kingdom of Bhiksu, re-named the Young Master City by the villagers. Many things were odd in this city. It was strangely empty and young boys no older than a few years were kept in geese coops. Wukong didn't like this. Everytime something was amiss, it meant some fiend was causing chaos beyond the scenes. He saw more troublemakers in this journey than he ever saw in his entire life. He swore to take vacations after this. Because even for him, who was the master of chaos, it was beginning to be too much.

They soon learned that those boys were sacrifices. Apparently, the King was sick, touched by an unknown disease, and his father-in-law made him believe that 1,111 young boys hearts would lengthen his life.

Wukong wanted to beat this so-called father-in-law to a pulp. As a King, protector of a tribe, protector of pups, he found this revolting. As a father of two cubs, he found this to be the cruelest thing someone could ever do.

“Did we get them all?” Asked Wukong as he secretly carried the young boys out of the city. He made a flurry of clones to help him. Macaque was on his shoulder, ears fanned out to localise all the babies.

“Yeah, that was the last.”

Wukong sighed in relief, he looked down at the darling boy snuggled in his chest and smiled. He brushed aside the bangs falling on his forehead and gave him to his clone. Geez. Having cubs of his own really made him soften up with children.

Macaque and Wukong got back to the rest of the pilgrims.

Bajie was running after Savage, the lil devil stole some pieces of fruits, she was old-enough to eat something else than milk. Savage jumped on Sanzang and hid in his neck, she looked up at the monk with puppy dog eyes.

“Aw, come on Bajie. She can have a little snack, no?” Cooed Sanzang as he patted the lil devil.

“Master, she's manipulating you.” Huffed Bajie as he regained his breath. Savage was a fast one.

“But the piece she took is so little.” Argued Sanzang as he looked at the tiny crumb of peach Savage was holding.

“It starts with the crumbs and it ends with her devouring our entire stock.” Replied Bajie.

“She wouldn't eat our stock Bajie, she's too tiny for that, aren't you?” Cooed the monk as he took Savage in his hands. “I say you can eat that crumb.” Savage chirped in delight while Bajie grumbled about “niece privileges.”

Meanwhile, Rumble was nestled in Ao Lie’s hair. The dragon-horse mane was one of the fluffiest around when the monkeys weren't here, and Rumble, as a bed-seeker, claimed it as his personal bed when the arms of his dad weren't avaliable. Ao Lie didn't mind. More often than not he would answer Rumble's mrrps with his own set of odd noises.

Wujing was settling the camp and folding their clean laundry, he perked up when he noticed the two monkeys.

“Everything went alright?” Asked the river demon.

“Yeah… We still have to confront the King tomorrow though.” Answered Wukong, he will not let that poor excuse of a King slaughter children like that.

The confrontation with the King did not begin well. As expected, the father-in-law was a demon in disguise, Wukong recognized him at one glance. The demon told the King that Sanzang's single heart would replace the 1,111 young boys hearts. Wukong gritted his teeth, he disguised himself as Sanzang to fool the demon, while the true Sanzang along with Macaque and the cubs were hiding behind a pillar.

Wukong plan was simple, really. He’ll cut open his belly, fool those people with numerous hearts and then grab the demon to beat him and reveal his true appearances. He didn't account for his daughter to chirp like mad the moment he put the knife on his belly. He had hoped Macaque would take the cubs and prevent them from seeing this, but, really, his daughter was just too slippery. Wukong, disguised as Sanzang, turned towards Savage. He tried to look reassuring.

It was alright.

This was nothing but an act.

Pa wasn't going to be hurt.

But Savage was one stubborn monkey, she refused to back down. She paced a lil before rushing towards Wukong and climbing on his shoulders. She clawed at his cheeks in frustration. Clearly not understanding why her Pa was pointing a knife to his belly.

“No, Sav. Baby. This is alright.” Mumbled Wukong, quietly enough to not be heard by the rest of them.

“There is something on the monk's shoulder.” Noticed the fake father-in-law.

Savage looked at the disguised demon. And somehow, she must have made the connexion that he was the one responsible for this, she growled at him. Wukong was about to reassured her and hide her form view. But then Savage eyes glowed bright and a laser shot out of her pupils. It hit the demon and broke his disguise.

Wukong was at the same time very proud and very confused. Savage just chirped in satisfaction.

“Huh, good job baby!” Congratulated Wukong. He broke his own disguise and took his daughter in his hands. “You did good, yeah. And it's your first power!!! That's something! My girl is growing! Look at you being all tough now.” Cooed Wukong, Savage appreciated his pets and leaned in his touch.

It was rather easy to convince the King after the demon's disguise was revealed. The pilgrims were able to resume their journey peacefully. At night, after Macaque put the cubs to bed, he turned towards Wukong and glared at him.

“You and me need to talk.” He growled with barely restrained anger.

Wukong gulped. He was in trouble.

Both monkeys went to an isolate place. Macaque mentioned for Wukong to shrink, which the sage did without complaints.

“Look Mac, I know you're mad because I was going to be hurt and all, but it was for the-” Macaque didn't let him finish. He punched him square in the face.

Yeah, maybe he deserved that.

“IN FRONT OF THE CUBS!?” Shouted the black-furred monkey. He began to pace, throwing heated glare at Wukong every now and then. “You were going to cut your belly in front of the cubs!?”

“I thought you would shield them and-”

“What if Savage saw you huh!? What if you didn't stop and she saw her own father cut his belly open!? Did you think of this?”

Wukong winced and withered at his mate's glare.

“I'm sorry… I didn't… I thought…”

“No you thought nothing! I already told you when you cut your head to face the fake Daoist that I didn't want you to hurt yourself like that. And now you do it again? I don't care if your immortal Wukong I don’t want you to-” Macaque stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Promise me you will never do this again.”

Wuking gulped, he stood up and walked towards his mate with a lowered tail. “I promise.”

“If you break this promise, I swear I'm gonna beat you to a pulp myself.” Growled Macaque.

Wukong hugged him from behind, Macaque didn't hug back.

“I promise, moon.” The black-furred monkey softened at the nickname, he patted Wukong's arms reassuringly.

“You're still in the dog house buddy.” Added Macaque.

+ cut scenes

Bajie *watching Mac drag Wukong away* : Oh this is karma 🤭

Sanzang : I will pray for his soul 😔

 

Wukong *doing something reckless that will harm him*

Savage : not on my watch 😡

 

Fun fact : Savage was glued to Wukong for three days after that. Rumble too, even if he didn't see clearly what happened he still feel his sister distress over their Pa.

+ I did some doodles of the cubs

But Like first time I ever tried to draw digitally, it's so hard 🫠

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[buggyboba]

✦ October 19th | Sharing

AN 𓏧

↳ ○ | Hi I don’t know how this got to be so long….it was supposed to be smut….and just smut….have a whole ass story….i guess...anyway I started writing this twice, and then changed my mind, anyway, I did steal a bit of it for the first Missy x Reader x Simm!Master one I promised, so that is still in the works, and that one is going to be a multipart, so there is also that. I am sure I used they/them for reader, but fem!anatomy. SMUT MDNI

SUMMARY𓏧

↳ ○  While Sharing isn’t in their nature, they have decided to play nice because you looked so cute

PAIRING𓏧

↳ ○ Missy x Reader x Simm!Master

TW𓏧

↳ ○ Established relationship/companion. Fingering, P in V unprotected sex, cum on stomach, eating out. Voyeurism from Missy.

WORD COUNT𓏧

↳ ○ 4000

A03 lINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

MASTERLIST LINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

It was tea time. She had very set expectations, and you were already in the kitchen preparing two cups of tea; it wasn’t a full afternoon tea set up, but she was busy, and with the appearance of her past self, the schedule had been thrown out the window much to your dismay. Her past self had made himself comfortable over the past few weeks since he had come ‘aboard’ as he called it. Uprooting the nice thing they had going, stealing you away occasionally, as an extra set of hands, you would catch him staring or muttering. He would watch you and banter with you; it felt natural, as natural as how you and Missy bantered; you felt drawn to him, just like you were drawn to Missy. 

It was interesting, to say the least, if you looked deep enough, you could see bits of him in Missy, some of her facial expressions, some of her habits. Regeneration was odd, she had explained it to you, and you understood the concept. It was like dying, but not really; a new person was just left—a new face, a new body. The personality was a bit different, but the core was the same; at least that's what you understood of it, like The Master was eventually going to become Missy, and Missy was once the Master; you could understand that. Sometimes you worried about the vast paradox they were causing like this, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t your problem—not really. If the universe was going to explode, what were you going to be able to do about it? So you just enjoyed it. 

Missy was protective of you, said she knew herself, and well, she did know herself, so you trusted her decision to be cautious of leaving you two alone too often, but you couldn’t just tell him, ‘No, I’m not going to help you with XYZ.’ So you were forced to interact with him. Sometimes he whisked you off all day, kept coming up with excuses to keep you around, and when he was out of excuses, he said it was just to piss lady him off. You didn’t like being a tool to aid in him annoying Missy. 

Another thing about him was he was cocky; then again, so was she, but he was something entirely else. It wasn’t terrible; you found him interesting, just like you found her interesting. He was a younger her; after all, even if he didn’t look younger, Time Lord's age was odd and sometimes didn’t reflect how old they looked. It just so happened you didn’t mind them looking more mature; it was thrilling. 

He looked so dignified; you liked his style, his salt and pepper goatee, his coffee-colored eyes, his silver hair, He was foxy, cheeky, knew he looked good, and you liked it. Of course, at first, you only recognized him as Harold Saxon, which was wild, but you chose to ignore it. You had mixed feelings about Harold Saxon’s run, killing the president, and all that, but that didn’t matter anymore because, at the end of the day, Harold Saxon was a disguise. 

He did confuse you though, because he could say something so vile and off the wall and then be a gentleman in the same sentence. He liked keeping you on your toes and was interested in what his future self saw in you. You knew that Missy enjoyed your company, that you were sassy, that you weren’t afraid of getting your hands dirty, and most of all that you felt something for her. What you didn’t know was that it had started as sole manipulation at first, but she felt something deeper than that now and was trying desperately not to let her former self say anything that would ruin what you two had now. Little did she know, right? 

Since it was tea time for today, you were in the kitchen of her Tardis making tea when you felt a familiar air behind you, and suddenly his arms were on each side of you, boxing you in against the counter.

“I think I’ve got it.” He started. “What she sees in you.” He whispered in your ear, You went to sidestep, but he kept you in place. His eyes were studying you; there was a mix of something behind his eyes, predatory but also like he was trying to figure something out like you were a bug to be studied.

“Okay, let’s hear it then,” you said, staying calm and keeping your body relaxed as you tilted your head to look at him. You knew you had to be careful; after all, Missy had hypnotized you a few times, so you knew he could do it too. 

He laughed a bit and tilted his head, studying your eyes for a moment. "Oh, don’t worry, pet, I won’t hypnotize you, not right now, though it could be fun, and I am dying of boredom here. Who knew I could be so boring?" He shook his head. “You think too loud, and you are so easy to read, my dear.” He grinned at you. You shook your head and pushed him a bit so he would move so you could finish making tea. “It’s not your fault; you are human... "It is fascinating that Lady Me finds you so worthy of keeping around,” he said but moved so you could make the tea. “It has to be what you give her.” He waggled his eyebrow, his smirk widening. “I mean, I smelled you the other night, heard you... heard her... It’s the sex right, and here I thought she was above it; she went on and on about how she was above primal needs... She’s a liar; wouldn’t you agree, my dear?” He nodded and watched as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“What do you mean you smelled me?” You asked carefully, leaning away from the counter and looking at him. Ignoring everything else, he said for a moment and zeroed in on that detail. 

“What I mean is—oh, did she not—Oh, you poor thing... Time Lords have a heightened sense of smell; we can smell the chemicals in the air; we can tell what time period and where we are just by smell. So of course, confined in this tardis, in the room down the way, I can smell your arousal. Just like I can hear every soft hitched breath, every moan you think is muffled enough.” He mused. “And you are so noisy; I can see why she likes you; I always did like screamers. Wonder what you taste like; it must be fantastic if Lady Me goes back for more.” He mused, and you felt scandalized right then and there. He had heard you two, smelled you two; you wanted to disappear right now; you wanted to cease to exist in the same room as him. 

"Oh, shy now? You weren’t shy last night,” he gave you that cheeky grin. “So I have to assume she keeps you around because you fulfill her needs and wants.” He looked you over; you tried to figure out what to say, and you found yourself suddenly wishing Missy would show up. “Which makes some semblance of sense; it is what you humans are good for, you know,” he teased, but it felt meaner than it should have.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I give stellar head and have a can-do attitude.” You muttered, turning back to focus on the tea. You were trying to stop yourself from burning up with embarrassment, not that you knew why it was embarrassing; it was clear you and Missy were entangled in some sort of relationship, ergo you two would be intimate, and like he was a stranger; sure, he was strange, but not a complete stranger.

“And you smell delicious,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “No, I am sure that’s what she likes of you." He tapped his fingers against his chin for a moment watching you, taking in your body language, seemingly pleased he put you on edge, got under your skin. “It’s not so bad, is it? I am very giving. So you aren’t wanting, I’m sure,” he said flippantly. You narrowed your eyes.

“It’s not just sex.” You muttered. Turning your attention to finish the cups of tea, you were already going to have to explain that her former self cornered you in the kitchen, which is why tea was late, so as revenge You had decided to only make yourself and Missy a cup of tea, but it didn’t matter because he ended up stealing yours and sat down to talk to Missy, who entered a few moments after the tea was ready, easily dismissing you. You went to talk back, but Missy held her hand up and motioned you away. You didn’t like this at all; you narrowed your eyes looking between them and definitely called them a bitch in your head before you headed to yours and Missy’s shared room. 

It felt like hours as you lay there quietly, upset at your lack of time with her and how he stole your tea. You sighed deeply and were almost about to get off the bed and go look for her when, speaking of the devil, or devils, she entered, followed by her male counterpart. You sat up and crossed your arms, looking between them; she had never let him come in. You paused and looked between them. 

“We spoke,” she started, “and we have come to an agreement.” She said with a final tone, and you shifted. My younger self understands now what you are to me and us, and if you agree, we would like to... share you.” She said, watching your face for any signs of what you were feeling. 

“Oh well, at least I get a choice,” or at least an illusion of one, you mentally thought. “And why exactly would I want to be shared? I assume you are not just talking about splitting custody of me." You joked a bit, trying to make your own unease go away. You thought he was handsome, and he was technically her, different but still her. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak, and he did; it didn’t take long, actually. 

“I know what you think; you are not good at hiding it, pet and I know you have thought about it once or twice, what it would be like, and what I can give you that she cannot.” He started and glanced at Missy, then back to you. “And while we are not prone to sharing what is ours, it’s only fair; if you are hers, you are mine,” he said casually. “So come on, live a little, let's play swingers,” he grinned at you in a cheeky grin that was oh so familiar. “Let me get to know who I apparently adore.” He rolled his eyes a bit but then looked at you studying you again, as if he were actually thinking about how Missy said she adored you to him. 

The statement made you blush a bit. You did know that Missy adored you, and you adored Missy; you also hadn’t been expecting such a proposition. You looked at Missy, who was watching you with an equally cheeky grin, nodding a bit as a go-ahead. You wondered if this was a ploy to get to you sooner by having her past self be involved with you too. It felt very convoluted, so therefore felt like a very ‘Master’ plan to you. 

"So, like, is this you wanting to sleep with me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at him. 

“Oh no, if I wanted to just do that, I would have told you, and we would have seen where the night took us, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a tempting thought; after all, you do make the cutest sounds,” he mused a bit. Right, god, you forgot he could hear you, that he could smell your arousal. Oh god, that meant Missy absolutely could too; that would explain the smirks and glances when you were turned on around her. You didn’t have time to unpack all of that right now; you had to focus on the question that was being asked of you. You had never been in a relationship with two people before, more so the same person. You had a lot of questions about the logistics of it but decided now was not the time for that either. 

“I mean, I guess... it's okay... I mean, you are the same person, just in different places in your timeline, I guess, so by all means it’s fine... as long as neither of you gets jealous of the other, which I know is a big ask.” You laughed a bit trying to lighten the very serious topic. 

The pair were silent. “I think we can manage, Poppet," Missy said and rolled her eyes, moving to sit next to you, her hand lightly patting your knee. “Plus, in the grand scheme of things, you are still mine regardless, and in an off way while we are vastly different, I can’t ignore my past, and he has become...” she paused to think of the correct word she wanted to use. “Smitten.” She settled on, “You are an interesting pet, and while he can be...” she trailed off for a moment once again looking for the right word. “Pushy, cocky…an idiot.” She smirked a bit when The Master bristled and made an annoyed sound. “I think this would be a good arrangement,” she said lightly. “We can try it, and if it’s not what we enjoy, no harm in it…right?” She urged you, and you nodded a bit, though you were almost positive it wouldn’t just go back to how it was if they didn’t like it. You shifted again, and Missy’s hand tightened on your knee. “Trust me?” she asked.

You sighed and looked at her. You did trust her, but it was such a turn-around from her wanting you to stay away from him, and now she wants you to sleep with him? Then again, you couldn’t even begin to understand what she was thinking, so you would go along with it; it was fine. He was right; you had been looking at him; you did find him stunning, and since he would eventually become her, you didn’t think it was too weird. 

“Good, perfect!” he clapped once and started over the bed, flopping on your other side, his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you a bit closer to him. “You know something; earlier, when I said I knew why she chose you being strictly satisfying her, I was wrong, and I don’t often if ever admit when I am wrong, though we will see for ourselves, won’t we? I do bet it’s fantastic, from what I’ve heard anyway.” He smirked, and you wanted to die again. 

“Let’s not talk about it; look, Missy."You looked at Missy and said, “Didn’t explain that the Time Lords were basically fucking bloodhounds, pack hunters... Jesus.” You shook your head. 

“That’s not a bad thing, darling.” She grinned at you, moving her hand up to your thigh more. “And if I had told you before you would hide those beautiful sounds from me and freak out anytime you became aroused, it would have made it more obvious, and you would have hated that even more than you hate us talking about it now. I think it’s nothing to be worried about, plus your heart does this little racing thing, oh, like now,” she poked above your now pounding heart. "Yeah, that’s it, lovely,” she grinned. “I think deep down you like it because it is a turn-on, whether or not you know it.” She said her hand moving up to pull your shirt up, her nails scratching up your stomach, leaving little red lines as she did so. “And don’t worry, I’ll be here the entire time.” She practically cooed at you.

Oh, oh so this was happening now, of course, it was, you didn’t expect them to wait, not when you were there already warm, already thinking about how Missy made your body feel, and wondering how He would make your body feel, you felt your cheeks heat more as his hand slid down to undo your pants, pulling the zipper down his hand grazed against your hip as he pushed the fabric down your hips and past your knees, Missy pressed a soft kiss against your neck, as her hand caught the fabric of your shirt pulling it over your chest showing off your chest, which was covered by a black lace bra, his hands moved to pull the strap down over your shoulder so your breast fell free from the cup, his palm cupped the flesh and his thumb traced against your nipple, coaxing it to harden, you shivered, as you felt Missy’s nails against your bare thigh, trailing up towards the apex of your thighs. 

“They are cute,” he mused. He pinched your nipple a bit, rougher than Missy tended to be. You had a feeling where Missy was rough; he was going to be rougher. You were not getting out of this unscathed, you breathed out as his hand moved to kneed at your other breast, his mouth capturing your nipple; he drew long sucks against it; you instinctively let your hand grab his shoulder as you felt Missy shift to move up on the bed more, watching. The Master moved pushing your pants down and off, dragging you up more, his hand moved to your thigh, spreading you out for him more as he pushed you to lay down; his tongue flicked at your nipple before he licked down your stomach, nipping right above the waistband of your underwear, which caused your hips to arch; you felt Missy move to sit with your head in her lap, her fingers trailing through your hair, as she watched with interest. 

“She particularly likes the thing we do with our tongue.” Missy mused, smirking down at you, and you gave a soft sound as his fingers dragged your underwear down. 

“Who doesn’t?” He smirked. 

“Cocky.” She shot back, watching as he pushed your thighs up, so your legs were over his shoulders; she supported your neck more as he moved you; her fingers massaged at your neck; her other hand moved to trail her fingers up the valley of your chest; your hands didn’t know where to go, one gripped against Missy’s skirt, the other against the back of The Master’s head as his mouth made contact with your core. The sound that escaped you was sinful. Missy’s fingers trailed against your arm as it clung to her. 

His tongue curled and pressed before falling flat against your slit, licking a stripe up, before the flat of his tongue wiggled against your clit, pulling a breathy sound from you, your hips arching again, his hands having to grab your hips so you couldn’t squirm away as his mouth closed around the little bundle of nerves sucking and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His eyes watching you closely, taking in all your body’s cues. 

"See, I told you.” Missy spoke, “Putty.” She smirked, one of her hands fingers stroked against your cheek, almost lovingly. Her other hand cupped your breast, slowly massaging it. You jolted as he slipped a finger into you, thrusting it a few times before he added a second one to stretch you for him. “Making sure you are nice and ready, puppy.” She purred to you like you needed a play-by-play. Your hand moved to try and pull at her shoulder, wanting her lips on yours, which she obliged, swallowing a few of your groans with her mouth. 

“Oi, I want to hear them; that’s the whole point, isn’t it, the fun little sounds?" He pulled back, and you tightened your hand against the back of his head, whining about him stopping. “What a needy little thing we have.” He smirked a bit. “Then again, I don’t blame them, do you?” He smirked at Missy, who watched him and then looked back to you, nodding after a moment.

“All ours… I think we will keep them.” She mused though she said that every time you two slept together, ‘I think I’ll keep you.' It was as close to 'I love you��� as you were going to get. You felt him sit up, hearing his belt buckle undo and the swift sound of leather being pulled before he undid his pants. His hand wrapped around his length and stroked the already semi-hard member to life. He pressed the tip through your slick folds, rubbing against your entrance. “Deep breath,” he breathed out as he leaned over pressing against you, his chest against yours, as he held himself up with one arm. As he heard you breathe in he pushed in slowly, sinking in inch by inch, feeling your body stretch for him. “That’s a good pet.” he breathed out as he felt you flex and clench around him, “Oh yes, like a glove, like you were made for me.” he purred into your ear, you heard the annoyed tsk of Missy, but her fingers continued to play against your nipple and scratch the back of your neck, watching the pleasure split across your face, as he settled to the hilt, “There we are.” he breathed out, and slowly started to drag out, getting halfway out before he pushed back in quickly, his hand found your hip sliding down it and under your thigh keeping your leg pushed up and out as he rolled his hips, he felt your other knee against his hip as he set a steady pace. 

You groaned out, locking gaze with him as he moved, that grin spread across his lips, he liked eye contact just like Missy did, of course, he did. He felt better than any toy Missy and you had used, one hand moved to grab the back of his jacket pulling at it as he hit every right spot with the roll of his hips. You felt your head cloud as your pleasure started to build, you arched more trying to breathe and not let yourself cum, much like when you were with Missy, you wanted her to cum first, though with Time Lord's stamina you knew he would cum plenty of times before he was tired. You gasped out feeling your thighs strain and shake as he pushed as deep as he could with each thrust now. You groaned out his title, “Master.” there was a moment where his eyes darkened, and he gripped you tighter, the way you groaned out ‘Master’ clearly did something for him too, because he picked up his speed. He could tell you were close and he was close too. He growled out something in Gallifreyan, you had heard Missy say it before, in that same growl. Missy’s hands tightened against you as she heard his growl, her own eyes dark with possession, as she felt your body shudder and jolt as you slipped and screamed out as you came around him. 

You choked out, as he kept moving, Missy said something in very stern Gallifreyan, to which he replied, but slowly pulled out stroking himself as he splattered hot seed against your stomach, and looked at Missy with a look of ‘Are you happy now’, you couldn’t even form words for a moment, but you knew they must have argued about where he could cum, you felt Missy press a few kisses against your temple as you breathed trying to catch your breath. 

“I think it’s my turn pet,” she smirked a bit waiting for you to come down. It was going to be a long night between you three, and you weren’t sure about all the implications, but you didn’t care all that much, because this opened a whole new world for you, and you did want to explore more of it. 

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

Taglist𓏧 ↳ ○ @bees-fart-too , @bakusquadobsessed , @anastasa-mslfedit , @cabinedepapel , @asteria237 , @suckerforcate , @bingewatchingmylifegoby , @toastvogel , @starbucks-06 If you want to be added to the rest here is the l x

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 18

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

New chapter, new cup, and back on my tea drinking! Today is another past year ren faire hand made cup with a Blueberry Jasmine tea.

This is present me rn - having finished this chapter- I WAS NOT PREPARED WHAT THE FUCK; what a goddamn jump scare of a read! D:

let's get ready for the notes journey so you can see me descend into a cacophony of sound:

Okay the visitor from last chapter was not Luo Binghe, and I really thought it might have been- it is in fact Liu Qingge! p159

Where is Luo Binghe though?? p159

Side note: unrelated, but a little bit related- adjacently related if you will - to the plot -> Big Same Shen Qingqiu! When I see a fan I too have to give that baby a firm crack! p159

Also real as fuck. LQQ: "what's up with you and Luo BInghe?" SQQ: I don't really know, but here we are LOL" p160

What did Liu Qingge see in the room that made him trip up/pause??? (I am sure we will find out later but still what the heck) p162

I'm crying at the strike out over here "His current attire and appearance was exactly identical to the Luo Binghe from before the Immortal Alliance Conference: the model of flawless and pure disciple of a major sect, the image of a pretty, diligent, and competent young wife, it really...really...was..." p162

Why am I so suspicious about the breakfast service Luo Binghe has for SQQ. p163

I love how the two of them in disguise in this very obvious trap of basically every powerful cultivator and sect is Luo Binghe changing his facial expression and SQQ being like "well I've been away for a while they will never recognize me" stealth check natural 1 for sure for sure p168

ewwww. anything to do with Old Palace Master. I really hate this guy, this story is so fucked. honestly poor Luo Binghe rn. pp171-172

oooo! New quest from the system: Raising Righteous Image Points! p176

more me appointed points to my 'SQQ is the damsel/love interest narrative', "In conclusion: So the female lead's role was going to be Shen Qingqiu again, huh?" p177

THANK YOU! This guy is the only one talking sense. Tianlang-jun really did nothing to start this whole war. He was only tricked and then essentially had the shit absolutely beat out of him. I dont even think the rumour he was going to wreak havoc and kill a bunch of humans was true- probably made up by butt hurt Old Palace Master. p181

ugh. Poor LBG having to hear all these people talk about his parents, their story, and how his mom hated him so much she tried to abort him. what the fuck, that's enough to mess anyone up quite badly. pp181-183

LBH: SQQ: my heart!!! pp 186-187

OFC LBH would be blamed mid Menty-B for the random demons being present. p189

Also so valid! the sects really are using the same tricks they used on Tianlang-jun. You know what, i'm really starting to stand with these demons - they have been done so dirty! p190

Hell yeah Yu Qingyuan stepping in! p191

Everyone here wants an explanation- how tf are they going to explain any of this tho LOL p195

Oh fuck, oh fuck! He hit zero points! p196

wait...alternate punishment? p197

Oh dang, he really just collapsed p197

AH! What's happening in the dream punishment. Is the punishment SQQ having to live with the original novel Luo BInghe and forever pining for him LOL? pp 198-199

Oh shit. Luo Binghe is totally figuring out that Shen Qingqiu is not his original Shizun p201

HE TORE HIS ARM OFF?! P202

MORE LIMB RIPPING P203

WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!!

THIS IS WILD.

What a horrible punishment OMG.

[ridreamir]

Setting: Tears of the Kingdom/Breath of the Wild and Pre-Calamity

This is a condensed reader insert, no gender is ever specified in my writing. (Various x Reader with focus on the Yiga Clan/Master Kohga) Edit: I didn't have time to proofread. I'll keep fixing the post each time I spot a mistake.

So what if, one hundred years ago, there had been a forgotten member of the royal family (by blood or by adoption?) This could be because of a timeline erasure or time split, but this person somehow still exists in the BOTW timeline before the events of the Calamity.

That person just so happens to be you.

Forgotten by the world, you're left to be a wandering traveler in a now post-apocalyptic Hyrule, but you still have a small connection to the power that saved you from certain death/erasure from existence.

Along your travels, you meet members of the various races, and those who were once aware of your existence can no longer recognize you, but those of significant bloodlines too carry faint traces of power not unlike that inherent in your own family. You hide your identity, but you meet old acquaintances and quietly resolve potential threats before they happen before leaving as quickly as you came.

This, of course, is met with no thanks, as you try to avoid being noticed as anything more than an insignificant traveler. Gentle rains, warm breezes, the air that follows feels vaguely reminiscent of a time before the kingdom's fall, and those old enough to remember those times now long past feel melancholic for the brief moment you pass through their lands. The light of the sunrise is stark upon the land, even in mist or morning fog.

During your time passing through the domain, a somewhat young Sidon might find you standing before Mipha's statue with your hands clasped together whilst everyone is sleeping, silently communicating the tales of your adventures through prayer.

He's easily caught spying with his large size, but you pretend not to notice as it makes no sense for a stranger like you to dwell on the memory of a long-passed princess. It probably looked like a passerby paying respect to the spirits. Eventually, he did come out of hiding to join you in paying your respects to the statue. Seeing her face immortalized in stone did stir unrestful feelings within you. You don't know why you survived when everyone else had perished, but you had a feeling there was still something here you must do. You weren't supposed to be alive, but having awoken with limited memories, you realized there were no records left of your existence as a member of the royal family, nor were you sure what role you were meant to play now that your existence had been nothing but a faded memory that only you had held onto.

As you traveled, you also slowly regained pivotal memories of the timeline you had hailed from.

Ironically, you had met your end at the hands of an assassin in disguise. It was just after the revelation of the divine prophecy given of a hero and the crowned princess, your death surely nothing more than a mistake that could have been avoided had you been important enough to protect.

Worse was that you had later realized that you had befriended a strange and silly traveler who had quite the personality, and would sneak away in disguise to meet with him. Sharing snacks purchased together in the market and getting up to shenanigans had become a frequent occurrence, and not once did you think that you'd be caught as the isolated member of the royal family that bore no importance to the monarchy or the crown. He was carefree, mischievous, and had a strange sense of humor that did not fail to amuse you. He might've not been the most pious person before you met, but he learned to pay for the treats you shared. He might have also been the only person to actually like you as a person and not hold contempt for you as a discarded royal.

But it seemed that friend of yours that became dear to you had also been lying about his true identity.

In this new life, you would find yourself desperately stranded in the middle of the desert, just after a violent sandstorm had brought you to a canyon strangely decorated with hanging talismans. It seemed to be the only place safe from the whipping winds that shredded your clothes and cut your skin. You'd felt compelled to see what had become of Gerudo town after the war, as the Gerudo and the Rito had all but cut themselves off from the rest of the world given their difficult-to-reach positions and the danger that now shattered this land.

But just as you thought you were safe, an arrow came flying past your shoulder. A piercing pain coursed throughout your veins, and it became evident that your assailant had not missed his mark. You were awake long enough to watch the world turn sideways before a pair of boots kicked the sand up and obscured the last of your vision. You awoke in a jail cell.

You could not see who stood before you, but you heard as he asked your reason for coming this far through the harsh desert sandstorm.

Of course, this was an interrogation. You were in an unfamiliar place, but something about here had been far too familiar for comfort. This man before you had been the cause of your death.

And this time, he seemed to really think you were just some poor, unfortunate traveler who happened to get swept up in the storm, and not the forgotten royal of a deposed family.

So, you played into his misconception. You supposed it wasn't far from the truth now that you were really just a nobody, but in the back of your mind, you kept looking for signs that this man before you had been the scoundrel who stole from stalls and offered up his spoils to you, his dear friend. His deep, dark eyes and kind smile had probably been a lie as well. The Yiga were known for their disguises, and you were a fool even up until now, holding the memory of him in fondness. That reality of yours was never true to begin with.

He was now introduced to you as the Head of the Yiga Clan. This was "Master Kohga."

[cantsomeoneelsedoit]

Ch 59: Tetsuzanko

Little Shen negotiating his demands with his teacher is just so wholesome and pure. Here's this kid who is wearing rags and robbing adults for money all while telling his sister that he's the strongest in the world, and he enters a tournament and gets beat, thus proving he's not the strongest, but it doesn't affect his self-confidence at all.

He's still so confident that he proposes conditions for allowing someone to teach him, and it's not that he's being egotistical or delusional, because he admits he got beat at the tournament.

His leverage in this negotiation is offering the opportunity to train the boy who will become the world's strongest. That's how sure he is that he'll achieve his dream!

Shen: "Do it for the exposure! It'll look great in your portfolio!"

It's still not clear what kind of person Shen's teacher is at this point. We know he's interested in strong students and that he's smiling at Shen, but he seems eager to push Shen to his limits.

FENG?! That Feng?! It all makes sense now!

Feng is waiting on his student to surpass him and needs him to get as strong as possible so that he can have a fitting opponent someday. You know, like a certain other "Best in the World" from another series:

Each of them promises to wait as long as it takes for their student to reach their level, too! Feng has an even more Mihawk-ish quote later in the story, one that almost matches word for word.

But unlike my beloved Mihawk, Feng specifically promised not to age, which is a bit of an odd thing to say unless it's related to his negation ability.

Back to the battle, Shen immediately uses Untruth as he and Feng charge at each other with the sun shining over both of them as in the panels from the previous chapter.

Oho.

Feng is surprised, but Untruth doesn't seem to throw him off his game too badly. Narration boxes explain how Shen's ability isn't foolproof. He has to keep in mind everything he knows about his opponent's skills, tendencies, mood, and the chances of his ability backfiring--all in real time during a fight. He basically has to think for two people during a battle.

That last panel is so pretty!

Shen realizes that this guy is going to be more trouble than he'd thought! He begins to put the puzzle together:

Andy and Fuuko hadn't had a chance to tell Shen about Life Is Strange and its anti-aging abilities because the battle started almost as soon as they arrived.

Feng's style name is written on his outfit. It has the Under symbol and then 八极 "baji" in simplified Mandarin.

Baji is short for Bajiquan, a Chinese martial arts style. Feng has his own variant style of baji, but we haven't yet learned its name. When Feng uses the Zhen Jiao step-in, Shen recognizes it as one of the fundamental moves of baji and it adds to his suspicions that this mystery opponent has the same fighting style as his old master.

It's a quick, explosive, close-quarters kind of combat that's honestly terrifying:

After escaping with the step-in, Feng soars high above and shields himself with one of the jiangshi. Shen remarks that using a "human" shield to block attacks is something his old master would do--we're slowly learning more and more that Feng might not have been a very caring teacher...

Feng, wearing a hooded robe the entire time and concealing his identity from almost everyone in the series: "Heh, I suppose it's no wonder you don't know who I am!" Yeah, no shit. That's how disguises work!

Shen proves once again that he has no sentimental reservations about punching the zombified corpse of his former rival, but Feng spins away from the punch and lines up for his next wicked sick move.

Bajiquan's most famous move is the tetsuzanko 鉄山靠, "iron mountain lean," a kind of shoulder check/throw/battering ram. Feng's version is called hakkaizanko 捌廻山靠 "eight cycle mountain strike/lean."

It's a well-known baji move with Feng's own spin on it. He hits Shen so hard that he has a flashback!

"Aren't schools supposed to be free of dummies" is hilarious, but in just a few pages, Shen says that he can't go to school because he's a dummy. Poor kid! He doesn't even think he belongs in school! He has a lot of confidence in his strength, but not in his smarts. It's especially sad because we know that Shen's actually not dumb at all! T.T

Was Feng really joking though? He's so hard to read!

The siblings go outside to train under the full moon. Mei learns the tetsuzanko and appears to master it in a short time-- but the sfx covers up her joyful moment in the last panel, and it continues across each panel of the flashback as Feng's true nature is revealed.

"Rather than having three disciples, what if I just have one extremely traumatized disciple?"

Feng was never interested in training Shen for Shen's sake. He wasn't trying to get all the glory for himself, either. I mean, he could've won that tournament hands-down if he wanted to, but he didn't even try (and we see here that he could easily beat the current champion). All that Feng wanted was to train someone who could get strong enough to give him a good fight, and he was willing to hurt that person as much as he could in order to make them into a meaner, stronger version of themselves.

The story cuts back to the present and we FINALLY see Feng's face! Noooooo, he's handsome! How can I hate him now?!?!

I don't think we've ever seen Shen look like this before. He has the same wild look in his eyes as he did when Feng first recruited him! Now Feng is hoping to use that wild side of Shen to create his ideal opponent. Is Shen just taking the bait?

Masterpost

[justwantedtowrite]

SOUKOKU (kagome & inuyasha) the idiotic geniuses

BSD Inuyasha AU post

Dazai as kagome who's the heir to the port mafia (his grandpa, the old boss, is currently reigning) his next mission entails overseeing a drug base disguised as a shrine led by odasaku w/ the orphans (higurashi family) (the old boss recognizes the oda's skills and finds it wasteful to kill him just because he doesn't wanna kill anymore) who gives him a tour. As he wanders the area near the well, his book (the complete manual to suicide) starts to transform into The Book, the words disappearing and cover changing and as that magical transformation finishes, he's dragged into the well by a huge centipede. He escapes (he's got a gun and he knows how to use it) and then stumbled across hirotsu (kaede) who then explains things to dazai.

Chuuya as inuyasha who was freed by a bandaged guy who wields a... (what even is that??) and keeps muttering about how that dumb centipede always regenerates every shot he makes! (chuuya can sense spiritual powers from this guy though?? Why not use it??) he helps defeat the demon anyway because this is not the best way to wake up and he's still so very confused. Hirotsu explains the situation (and huh, he's so old now, how much time has passed? he used to take care of him and the sheep and the village as a whole) but another demon shows up and takes a book.... Wait... that's THE BOOK he carries dazai and they try to shoot the bird down.

Dazai misses and hits the spine of the book, scattering the pages (on purpose) because he thinks he'll finally find them meaning of this meaningless existence called life if he has this chibi puppy by his side (he's got a crush, sue him)

Chuuya's choker as the beads of subjugation which was handed to him by shirase (kikyo) because shirase wasn't really powerful and if chuuya ends up betraying him, he has to have something to use against him. For some reason though, shirase didn't end up being the word-sayer despite him being the one to put it on chuuya (here, it's because he simply does not have the spiritual power to pull off the commands). When Dazai saw Chuuya wearing the choker, he made fun of it and jokingly said "sit". It ended up working and dazai always makes sure that chuuya never lives it down.

Gun and bullets as bow and arrows, dazai is already a master at it, so why switch into an old fashioned weapon (chuuya: master? Why'd you miss the book then??) Hirotsu tried to teach him how to use bows though so he decided to try it out and bring it to their travels because he likes making hirotsu proud (in exchange, dazai teaches him how to use a gun, and dazai can see that it's growing on hirotsu)

Dazai brings things from the modern era as well, so far chuuya's favorites are: portable music and wine.

Kagome's bike has no equivalent. Because is there a better alternative to being carried by chuuya? NONE.

(dazai, muttering: shame it's not bridal carry though)

[minty-mumbles]

Ooh how about “Was too hard on them” with Warriors?

The "them" Warriors is being too hard on is, in fact, Warriors himself. This man needs therapy

This prompt fill turned out to be pretty light on the whump. I was going to add a part about Warriors having a leg injury on top of being exhausted, but I decided to go easy on him lol

~~~

Warriors had been homesick lately. 

When Zelda had called him to her private study and asked him to investigate the strange portals popping up around Hyrule, he’d agreed without hesitation. At the time, he had feared lingering magic from Cia had infected the land and was drawing more monsters from across time and space to this era.

He hadn’t expected the portals to have a different, much darker master. He hadn't expected a portal to drag him in with no warning and snap shut behind him with no chance of return. He hadn't expected to be gone for months with no way to contact his family or the Queen.

He hadn’t known it then, but when he'd been spat out of the portal and into a goat pen with a certain rancher leaning over him, it had been the start of a months-long quest. A months-long quest without a glimpse of his home, his friends, his family. 

Goddess, what he wouldn’t give for a hug from his father or an affectionate hair ruffle from his sister. (Not that he would ever, ever voice that thought aloud, but... still.)

Now that he thought about it, they all probably thought he was dead. He wondered if they’d held a funeral for him, or if they were still holding out hope that he was alive somewhere.

Probably not.

It had been months since he last saw them. Almost half a year. 

He had to admit, he’d been hoping for a break lately. A break that took them to his era, preferably. At this point, the group of heroes had visited everyone’s home era except for his. He was getting sick of entering a new portal and getting his hopes up, only to not recognize the new area the group was dumped in.

Warriors was sure he'd been able to disguise just how tired he'd been lately. Some of the other heroes were catching on, but he thought he was hiding his near-permanent exhaustion pretty well. 

All he needed was some time to relax. Truly relax. 

He wanted good food without having to worry about where to forage or hunt that day. He wanted to sleep without having to set up a watch schedule or pay for rooms in an inn. He wanted to take a bath, for Hylia’s sake, and not have to do it in a freezing cold river.

Of course, the burden of leadership did not only fall to Warriors. For once, he wasn’t the one giving the orders. That was mostly Time’s responsibility. But Warriors was more than used to commanding his men, and he did his best to make sure Time didn’t push himself too far. 

But being dumped into an active war zone was not what Warriors had meant when he’d prayed for the next portal to bring him to his era. 

They were technically in his Hyrule, yes, but not somewhere he’d ever been before, and definitely not anywhere he could relax. 

The latest portal had dumped them in front of an old fortress that was located on the far outskirts of Hyrule. The fortress had been abandoned long before Warriors had been born and it had stayed that way, even throughout the war. It was too far away from Castle Town for either side of the war to see much of an advantage in occupying it. There’d been no need for him to ever go there before.

But now, it appeared that a small contingency of monsters had taken up residency in the fort. The citizens from a nearby village had sent an entreaty to the Queen for intervention, and Zelda had obliged, sending a troop to clear it out.

Warriors had quickly been recognized by the soldiers guarding the front gate, and the heroes were led inside with general excitement from the soldiers.

Apparently, he hadn’t been officially declared dead yet, but the general consensus in the army was that he’d been killed in action. These soldiers seemed pleased that it wasn’t true. They especially seemed pleased that he showed up with reinforcements.

The villagers had evidently underestimated the number of monsters in the fort- a small army was probably the best description- and Zelda hadn’t sent enough soldiers for them to easily be able to take the fort.

These weren't the soldiers that Warriors had led during the war, but he knew the captain that led them and knew her to be a loyal soldier to Hyrule. He had no worries that the soldiers under her command would turn traitor, so that was one less thing for him to worry about.

But there was still too much to worry about for him to relax.

~~~

Warriors sighed, staring at the map in front of him. It was a carefully hand-drawn rendition of the fortress. Someone had taken great care to map out all the rooms, marking all the rooms being used as bases and outposts. 

The open-air courtyard at the front of the fortress was currently being used as the base for the allied forces of Hyrule. Thankfully, it was summer, and the weather was clear. There was no need to set up tents. Each entrance was carefully guarded at all times. Bedrolls for all the soldiers lined the walls. One corner was partitioned off and set up with cots, being converted into a small med bay. The heroes had commandeered another corner to set up their own bedrolls. In the third corner stood the makeshift command center, which consisted solely of a table, chairs, and the map Warriors was pouring over. 

The courtyard was as safe as anywhere in the fortress possibly could be, but Warriors had instructed the other heroes to continue setting up a watch every night. That had silently sent the intended message: they weren’t safe here.

Warriors doubted that the monsters would launch a full frontal attack on the allied base, and even if they did, they would have plenty of forewarning. But carelessness killed. The other heroes could deal with continuing to lose a little bit of sleep.

Warriors turned his attention back to the map in front of him. Unsurprisingly, it hadn’t changed since he took his eyes off it. He sighed, leaning heavily on the table. 

The Hyrulian forces currently only occupied the allied base and two of the surrounding outposts. They simply didn’t have the manpower to spread themselves out any further. 

They only had two options. Either send a messenger to Zelda asking for reinforcements and hunker down until they arrive, or try to take the whole fortress in one big push. 

The messenger had already been sent. With them, they carried both a request for backup and hastily penned letters from Warriors for both his family and the Queen. But those letters would take a week to reach Castle Town even with the messenger running on little sleep and pushing their horse as hard as they dared. It would take another week and a half for reinforcements to arrive. 

Warriors and the other heroes couldn't afford to wait for two and a half weeks. They were on their own mission. Then there was the fact that the soldiers hadn’t brought enough food for a siege. They wouldn’t be able to get enough food from the small village nearby. Warriors also doubted the monsters would just wait around for the reinforcements to arrive.

That really left them with no choice. They would have to fight without backup. Warriors had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It was bad enough that the other heroes had to endure being in an active warzone. Leading them into battle in this way was something Warriors had never wished for. 

But it seemed inevitable now.

All of this required a lot of planning and strategizing. It had only been a day and a half since they arrived, but Warriors hadn’t slept since. 

“Warriors.” The voice from behind him made him startle. He knew before turning around it was one of the other heroes. Everyone else here would have called him Captain Link.

He turned around in his chair to find Time standing behind him, and frowning at him. He must really be tired if he hadn’t even heard the armor-clad hero approach. Warriors stared back unflinchingly, even as he internally quelled under the pressure of Time’s disappointed glare. 

“Don’t you think you could use some sleep?” It was phrased like a question, but Time’s voice was firm.

Warriors groaned. “Time, I'm very busy right now-” 

Time cut him off, not taking any excuses. “Even the other captain is resting. It's thirteen minutes to midnight. Go to bed.” Warriors blinked and finally registered how dark it was. The only thing lighting up the map was the flickering candles set on the table, and the one Time held in his hands.

Warriors rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. He had been feeling a bit light-headed, and he probably could really use a nap. He wouldn't be of any use in a fight if he was exhausted. 

That, and he doubted that Time would give up until he got his way and Warriors slept.

“A quick nap,” He agreed. 

His body must have also agreed. When Warriors stood, perhaps a bit too quickly, he could feel his blood drain into his legs that had fallen asleep after sitting for hours.

For a split second, he teetered unsteadily on his feet, fighting to stay upright and not collapse., He swayed, his head pounding as he reached out blindly for something to steady him. That split second was all Time needed to place a guiding hand on his back. The old man’s stern face had melted away, replaced with a worried one.

“I’m fine.” Warriors protested the unspoken concern, righting himself with the help of Time’s hand.

“Of course you are.” Time agreed, starting to steer Warriors towards the corner where the heroes had set up camp, but somehow it didn’t feel like Warriors had won that argument.  

He couldn’t say he was complaining though, as Time guided him to one of the two empty bedrolls in the heroes’ camp. 

It didn‘t escape his notice that Time had laid him down right next to Sky, who was a notorious cuddler and even more notoriously hard to wake up. Warriors doubted he’d be allowed to get up anytime soon. As Warriors drifted off to sleep, he couldn't say he minded.

~~~

Warrior: I am normal and functioning 👍

Time: Nice to meet you, “Normal and Functioning.” Have you met my other son, “Sleepy And Prone to Cudlding?”

[m1d-45]

kaeya having his mandela catalogue moment seeing the copy of his brother… can’t wait for him to meet shade! that definitely won’t fuck him up at all! - teddy anon

oh he’ll totally leave that interaction 100% sane (lying)

brief note, diluc and shade would be over in .2 seconds. putting aside the impossibility of shade leaving your side willingly, diluc has long since memorized the microexpressions on kaeya’s face, and knows that he isn’t him.

brief note two, shade is much better at passing as kaeya than red is diluc. aside from the very obvious detail of red borderline growling at people all the time, red carries himself differently. diluc, while often awkward and sometimes unintentionally cold, is still approachable, a trait that red could never manage. shade, however…

shade is a bandit. a master of disguise mixed with kaeya's already clever personality, able to mask himself as kaeya—and has, on occasion, to lead a patrol away or to snatch some medical supplies from the city for you or nikki. the difference is that he has a diluc to fall back on, one that he can trust with his entire self. kaeya can't let himself be honest with diluc and vice versa, but shade and red can. who better to tell your homicidal urges to than your fellow reflection?

imagine with me. post hunt. you're entering mondstat, without red at nikki's request. you, nikki, momo, and shade, making your way toward the gates. everyone knew about the old copy of diluc you had made, about the mirrors your friend taught you to use to summon the archons of old. even night, elusive as she was, was known throughout the knights.

but shade was new. shade was quick on his feet, always swift to pull you through the impossible tangles of forest, into thickets that would knit behind you so the patrols couldn't follow. shade was a well kept secret, only glimpsed in rumors throughout the city that the cavalry captain was occasionally seen in a new set of formal wear.

kaeya had heard these rumors. he'd also known that your 'diluc' was your closest guard, and had himself witnessed him going into the city. he'd thought nothing of it, assuming the people had simply seen someone that looked like him. they hadn't.

once youre close enough for him to actually recognize shade, its like his whole world falls apart.

"divine one..." jean, at his side, likely also recalling the rumors. "your company..."

"this is momo and nikki," you introduce, "and this is shade."

shade. some part of that feels ironic.

hes not surprised by the talking cat, barely registering nikki's polite hello as he locks eyes with shade. same height, same hair, same patch over the eye and sharp smile when he knows he's won.

"shade, say hello."

shade blinks, then flashes a fake smile. "greetings."

the meeting is a blur for kaeya. all he can see is shade, shade and how clearly you and him are attached. his hand held in yours, the adoring look in his eyes as he watches you speak-

he'd passed as kaeya. his mask was so paper thin someone he's never even met could imitate it flawlessly, putting on his identity like a costume on the world's stage and doing it better.

shade was the one at your side. shade led you away with a polite smile—you didn't see the way it dropped so he could shoot kaeya a glare—and a hand around your waist. shade was the one that believed you, that kept you safe.

kaeya had invented the frostwind swordsman. he'd crafted his persona by hand, making a shield out of his words and behavior, and yet it was somehow shade that had perfected it.

[peridot-tears]

Time Travel AU: Be Gay, Solve Crimes

"Oi, is it true what they say? That you Frenchies are always raring for a good murder mystery?"

Time travel!AU where after Jacob kills Maxwell Roth, he blacks out from sheer exhaustion and smoke inhalation, only to wake up during the French Revolution. He quickly tags along with one Arno Victor Dorian, who's hot on the trail of whoever killed Jean Paul Marat, and he can't keep away even after Charlotte Corday is behind bars. In fact, he especially wants to stay when Arno teams up with Elise De La Serre -- "She doesn't want you as much as you want her, Arnie!"

After a revolution ends and a new era begins under Napoleon, Arno finds himself turning to Jacob as his closest confidante. "Though you may be boorish and reckless, there must be a reason that you're somehow still miraculously alive to bother me."

("This coming from the man who killed a bunch of men just for wine," Jacob scoffs.)

After a long and tumultuous courtship that they try to label as "frenemies," except in 19th-century French, they become dual Master Assassins who serve the people of France -- and the people of England, because fuck Napoleon and fuck the King too -- and make their relationship official.

And they were dual Master Assassins. Oh my God, they were dual Master Assassins.

They spend the rest of their lives sneaking and assassinating, trying to bridge the gap between Assassins and Templars, and though they ultimately fail, their attempts were so influential, even the biggest fanatics of both sides speak their names with respect.

Once they've retired to the Alps as old men, they spend their days in leisure, until the day they go to bed holding hands, and never wake up.

Except Jacob does wake up.

Evie is at his bedside, scolding him for his recklessness, and it's 1860s London again.

He recovers quickly, considering the tragedy that just befell him. Maxwell Roth is dead. That's a pity. Jacob has known better love and a better man than Maxwell Roth.

Even if that man was just a dream.

Until the day he breaks into the rest of Twopenny's personal collection, where he sees several original portraits of the French Revolution. A sharp-eyed painter from that time had managed to spot two men in the crowd -- Jacob finds himself staring at his own face, hiding in plain sight, and though the head of the man beside him is turned, he would recognize that scar anywhere.

And what sharp eyes that painter had. Jacob sees himself in this painting. That painting. Several paintings throughout the years, given away by small tells that only Jacob himself would recognize: The familiar swoop of Arno's frame as he sidestepped a guard. Jacob's godawful sans-culottes disguise. In the blurry distance, Arno performing a leap of faith, given away only by a gold and blue plumage unusual for a bird in Paris.

I'm here, he thinks. I'm really here.

Familiar steps sound the hall behind him.

Jacob ducks behind the painting; it's merely a worker in the building, coming to make sure the collection is as untouched as it has always been. He looks bored. He looks like Arno.

His hair may be cropped, and his scar may be gone -- the sign, perhaps, of a life that's dealt him a kinder hand -- but that bored look has not changed. It's Arno. He's been reborn, somehow.

That can't be it. Arno's gone. Jacob died with him. But Jacob is here, Jacob thinks to himself.

It's too much. And besides, Twopenny's paintings are rubbish, anyway. But Arno-not-Arno won't leave. He's lingering at the paintings, eyeing the details of the brushstrokes with light interest. He always was incorrigible when it came to purveying the arts.

Jacob tries to sneak past him -- Arno-not-Arno's ears practically prick, sharp as the man Jacob married, and Jacob finds himself grabbing him from behind, knocking him out gently.

He lingers just long enough to prop him up by the painting, smoothing out his hair, tucking him in with a nearby tarp because it's winter, Arno will get cold. He can practically hear Arno scolding him for his poor choice of fabric. "That barely insulates anything," he would say.

"It's the thought that counts," Jacob says.

He tips his hat, and escapes the building.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"Urgh, my head. Where the hell am I?"

Theo looked around anxiously at his surroundings, but didn't recognize a single landmark. He was in a desert, he could tell that much. Probably not Arkhelios though. Anyone could see the Bellamy house from far away and it was nowhere to be found. The last thing Theo could remember had been saying goodnight to Adam and climbing into bed for the night. There weren't any memories of leaving school or arriving at any desert. This had to be a dream of some kind.

"It is a dream of sorts," a loud, somewhat familiar voice called out. "I could send you through the actual waves of time, but not as far and not as fast. Even magic has its limitations and I'd rather not fight through the currents of the Ocean unless I have to. Very few warlocks are permitted to physically cross the boundaries of time."

"You-you're that Maricourt that visited me before," Theo said, holding his throbbing head. "Evren's friend. Rio something."

"Master Reogus," the warlock corrected. "I'm one of the last Guardians of Time, and yes, a dear friend of Master Thorne. I wanted you to see something, little demon. To understand the future, one must understand the past."

"Wait, my voice is different and and hands are bigger!" Theo gasped, running his hands over himself to find that his body had changed quite a bit. While he couldn't see his reflection, he could feel the heavy weight of demon horns on his head and could feel the difference in his overall size. "I'm an adult? Is this a trick? This has to be a trick!"

Reogus smiled.

"The waves of time are fluid," he replied cryptically. "Sometimes the only method of navigating them is to change your vessel. As I've just stated, you are unable to flow with the waves to the past, only to my recreations. It it still incredibly taxing, and your natural form will adapt to the currents. The change is not permanent."

Theo audibly sighed with relief. Trying to explain to his teenage boyfriend why he had an adult body would have been a nightmare. His father would have had yet another breakdown too.

"Where are we? Why do you think I need to see something in the past? Can I call Evren?"

"We're in Strangetown," Reogus answered, ignoring all other questions. "Before its destruction. Around the year 125 or so, when times were peaceful. This family should be of interest to you."

Theo squinted against the harsh sun to try to get a better look, but he didn't know what to look for. Just because he had an adult body didn't mean that his brain had changed too.

"There's some kids hanging out in their yard. Big deal," he stated. For all the effort the warlock was supposedly going through, his presentation was awfully boring.

"That is Ripp Grunt," Reogus said sternly. "The survivor. The leader of Strangetown through the darkness. Do you not still study history in our academy?"

"Strangetown history is an elective and Adam didn't want to take it," Theo replied. "We live in Pleasantview after all."

If Theo didn't know better, he could have sworn that the ancient warlock groaned beside him.

"The Pleasantview council fought wars against insurgents who were aided by the supernatural. Those blessed with the gifts of Life fought against the darkness. The old monarch of Pleasantview fell and the demons cemented their hold on the country."

"Yeah, Life still messes around with the living," Theo said. "There's a poster in our living area with their various disguises and a number to call. They seem pretty nice though. They killed my grandma to save me and my dad."

"No, this is the old way," Reogus corrected the teen. "Lukas doesn't manifest as Life until 137."

Theo raised a skeptical eyebrow at the warlock.

"That doesn't make any sense. There's always been a deity of life to match the deity of death. It's basic magical theory. Light and dark, death and life helps bind spells and makes magic possible."

"Well, I'm glad they still teach you something in school. You may still want to think about taking more electives, child. There once was a being of Life created together with Death. Life grew greedy over the years and fell away from his purpose. As punishment, the Ocean swallowed him and his followers in its deepest, coldest depths, creating the Void as you know it and all of its demons. For a time, Death reigned alone and it was a dark time indeed."

"Young Ripp lost everything. His family, his friends, his home. For reasons that none of us mortals know, Strangetown was nearly destroyed by the newly forged demons and Pleasantview. Their entire way of life was completely destroyed in the aftermath. Limited technology, and no electricity grids to support them. The people turned to magic and their own communities to survive. If Death had destroyed their lives, the people began to call to Him in rituals to ease their suffering."

"And Ripp Grunt was there, holding the country together. The Spectors, the Smiths, they all rallied around his leadership and the old ways were born."

"The old ways?" Theo repeated, still in shock at the images before him. "Are they magic? Are they in my textbook?"

Theo watched the man before him bow before a flame, whispering a strange language rhythmically to himself. Ripp took a dagger from his side and released a small amount of blood onto some runes, something that looked very familiar to Theo.

"Oh! I know that one!" he exclaimed excitedly. "That's a spell for protection! That was on my exam last semester. This is when people practiced blood magic? This is awesome! People who actually use the same kind of magic that I do!"

"But Death was unbalanced during this time," Reogus said coldly. If Theo had to guess, this guy must have been a teacher at his school when he was alive. He talked like a teacher. "The Great Demons rose along with their blood demon brethren. The council in Pleasantview increased their attacks. It was a time of great suffering. The current Grim Reaper was born during this time. He watched the death toll rise as his father collected the many lost souls with clinical precision."

"Why are you showing me all of this?" Theo demanded. This all sounded like it was getting to the point this strange warlock wanted to make, but Theo wasn't liking the somber change in his voice or the broken look in the young Grim Reaper's eyes. "What's the point? I'll take Strangetown history 101 if that's what you want."

"You are coming of age, child," the warlock said kindly, as if he could sense Theo's discomfort. "To know the past is to know the future. To know your past is to know your future."

"No offense, but this isn't my past. This was millennia ago, I'm fourteen."

"It is the origin of your people," Reogus continued. "It is the origin of your kind. As you said, these are the people who are doing the type of magic that is in your textbooks. As you grow older, you will come into your true power. You need to see what that looks like."

"Um, I'm good now," Theo protested. "If I could just wake up from whatever dream this is, I promise that I'll take the history course. There's a lot of fire and death and creepy things here that probably look better in a history textbook."

"No, you must look closer."

Theo's stomach felt like it was being torn from his body as the warlock manipulated their reality, sending wave after wave of energy through him. A shimmering blue light enveloped him, shielding him as his entire person succumbed to the rhythm of the waves of time.

When he could open his eyes again, Theo found himself in a graveyard in the dark of night. He wasn't normally worried by gravestones, but something felt off about this place. The energy was dark and unfriendly.

When Theo moved to take a step forward, he nearly tripped. His legs were suddenly much shorter than he was used to. A quick look at his hands confirmed the change. He was no longer an adult, but still not a teenager. Had he really been this short as a child? He didn't remember the world looking this small.

"See, young apprentice, this is the result of unbalance. This is the price of an unchecked structure for your kind."

Theo stared in the direction Reogus was pointing and saw two men huddled together in the ruins of a graveyard.

"That's the Grim Reaper again," Theo noted. "At least that's who he is in my time. Victoriana says that her grandparents adore him, that he's this nice, compassionate boss who lets them get away with whatever they want."

"Well, saddled with an embarrassing name, and neglected by any parental figures will sometimes do that to a person," Reogus acknowledged. "He has lived in Strangetown for millenia and protected it as best as he could the entire time. There are limits to the abilities of reapers, though. They cannot change the flow of history unless it is their destiny or if the change has been approved by an appropriate deity. This younger Gee is still in his first lifetime, trying to protect the man he loves from his father. Without Life to balance him, Death was overpowered. All the killing that the demons did went unchallenged. Many people may have died before their time and in large quantities. All of the first Life’s powers went with the demons when he fell. Life's powers were not meant to be used for evil. The Great and blood demons were powerful beyond measure because of this. When the powers of Life are used as a weapon, people suffer. Devastating amounts of lives were lost."

"Yeah, I get it," Theo snapped, starting to realize that this whole mystical trip was really just an excuse for another adult to scold him and make him feel badly about his powers. "Murder is bad, I know."

"Father! Sir! Stop this! We can't keep letting this happen!"

Theo watched as Gee Spector pleaded with Death on behalf of the living. For all of Gee's angry words, Death seemed to be unmoved.

"Father, this can't keep happening. Ben says that they don't have the resources to survive past six months at the food dispersal center. We need to call for help. You knew Life, can't you talk to him about the demons? Why isn't the Ocean stopping this?"

"Life won't listen to me, he never has," Death replied stiffly. "All I can do is my job. It's all for the Ocean to sort out and it is too weak at the moment. I must do my duty and my duty only. I'm sorry that you've developed an attachment to the living. It's unfortunate that they suffer, but it's not my duty to deal with it."

Theo saw Gee's hands tighten into angry fists, but the reaper said nothing. The being in front of him barely looked like he cared for his son and seemed to actively despise the living humans. Theo had never thought of the current Life deity as anything other than a pest who liked to meddle in the affairs of the living, but clearly, they had changed Death for the better over the centuries.

Theo watched what he assumed was the burning energy of fallen souls dispense out of Death’s hands into the air.

"It gets better here, though, right?" he asked his magical tour guide. "Strangetown had enough food to survive? Somehow the Life deity was replaced and things got better?"

Reogus shrugged, happy to finally have the young student's attention.

"Well, since you declined the opportunity to study Strangetown history in school, I guess we'll just have to see what happens next."

[cafeinthemoon]

Unexpected Changes - Part I

Chapter 1/2

Wordcount 3,4k

Title Part I

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades X reader

Symbols ✔ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none, just comedy and family fluff!

Tagging: ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment here or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So as I don't post the 11th chapter of my other story with Hades, Ruins, enjoy this little drama/comedy starring reader as an established goddess, queen and wife and her ever loving husband Hades <3 This was a quick idea I had a few days ago and decided to write down as a way to rest, because the last weeks have been tough, ugh.

I'm sorry for not choosing a better title, but I hope it doesn't kill interest in this little ff XD

It’s been at least forty minutes and you were trying to ignore the growing sensation of burn in your eyes, focusing your gaze on the frail figure of Zeus sitting on his chair many floors below you. From there, you were still able to hear his voice, but each minute that passed this task became harder: your brother-in-law’s voice was now showing the first signs of tiredness, and you were fighting the urge to zone out.

You were sleepy. It’s not that you haven’t had a good night of rest before attending to your first divine council since you were received as a deity, but the necessary preparations and the anxiety that would obviously come with them were taking their toll, and now you realized how much mental work you’ve been doing since the day you’ve got the invitation by Hermes’ hands.

Until that moment, you thought you were succeeding in disguising your discomfort, and perhaps you managed to hide it from the ones sitting around you, but there were certain eyes you knew could never deceive – the ones of the King of the Underworld and your husband, Hades.

The silence around you was tangible and the attentions of everyone were for Zeus, but you could feel Hades’ look on you. With a shy glance to your left, where he was sitting, you confirmed the direction of his thoughts.

You gave him a brief smile and was going to turn your attention back to the speaker, but leaned to you and whispered something in your ear, which you couldn’t ignore.

– Is there something wrong, dear y/n?

You took one moment to understand what he was saying, and then another one to formulate a reply.

– No, I’m just a bit tired – and, forcing yourself to widen your smile, – But thank you for asking, Hades-sama.

His response was to approach his hand and caress your face for a second, then brush your hair behind your ear. You still referred to him as your master when you were in public, even when the necessity for this already disappeared: you were now a member of the divine race, and the majority of the gods there paid their respects right in your wedding’s day, recognizing you as one of them and the Queen of the Underworld; but old habits die hard, and in your heart, you were still the young maiden who married a god older than your world. Hades never tried to correct you in this sense, maybe waiting for you to get used to your position after some time, but today he seemed to find grace in this, always reacting with contentment whenever you used that treatment.

There was silence for the next few minutes, since your husband accepted your answer, but it wouldn’t take long until a sudden, loud yawn escape your mouth and catch the attention of the people closer to you, for your embarrassment.

While you tried to cover your mouth, a chuckle was heard beside you. You looked at Hades to inquire him, but he was faster: standing up from his seat, he offered his hand.

– Come with me.

– To where? – you asked as you put your hand over his.

– To a calmer place.

You stood up from your spot, avoiding the curious looks of your pairs, and soon the council was left behind.

***

It was Poseidon who found you.

He was walking down that lonely corridor, taking time to observe the landscape through the clouds, a part of his brother’s domain that he hasn’t seen since the last council: the greenish territory filled with exotic trees and what looked like colorful dots from that height, but would be easily identified as flowers at a smaller distance. You yourself appreciated this view from that same porch before Hades took you to a less visible spot at the end of the corridor, but still under people’s reach.

At that moment, the King of the Seas was the only observer.

When he approached the couch where his brother was, the scene he found was absurd, to say the least: Hades had you sleeping on his lap, wrapped in his coat, with his arms around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. You were snoring softly and didn’t even sense your brother-in-law’s arrival.

Anyone who’d see you like this would only shrug and move on; the King of the Underworld had the right to spoil his wife as he pleased, after all, especially when that was her first time attending a council, and every god knew how tiring this could be. Unfortunately, the person who found you was Poseidon, who had a more critical view on such small eccentricities: what he saw there was nothing but his indulgent brother holding a big child.

The first words said between them were his, and they were exactly like expected:

– What’s the meaning of this?

Hades' response was to raise his eyes to him and show a discreet smile.

– The trip from Hellheim to Heaven is long and tiring, brother. Even you admit that. This is her first time doing it for something that’s not a visit or a party – and, with some diversion in his tone, – Show some consideration.

Poseidon twisted his lips.

– It’s been at least two hundred years since y/n became one of us, elder brother. She must be strong enough to stand the travel by now. Isn't it why you waited so long to bring her to a council?

– Yes, that’s the main reason. Still, don’t you think it’d be cruel to not give her the necessary support? – your husband sighed, caressing your hair as he spoke – You know, I still remember when you attended this type of meeting for the first time. It was very stressful, and you told me that many times in the days after.

The other man crossed his arms, giving no verbal response to this. Hades didn’t show the slightest sign of irritation: knowing his little brother as he did, he knew he still had a long way learning the difference between taking care of a beloved one and spoiling them. Besides, he never approved this habit of his elder brother to recall his past experiences to try and evoke compassion from him: it was so unworthy of a god that he couldn’t take it seriously, so he would prefer not to say anything.

– But what can I do about it? – Hades laughed at his brother’s annoyed expression – Just wait a bit until you decide to find a significant other, Poseidon. It's for your own good, and theirs.

Poseidon would have rolled his eyes if that was a common gesture of his, but he just limited himself to give the other a blunt reply.

– I didn’t travel here just for you to lecture me, Hades. Besides... – he stared at you in a strange manner – This is not the first time I see her in such deep sleep. Are you sure everything is okay with her?

Hades raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject.

– What do you mean?

Poseidon turned to the clouds, leaning one hand on the parapet while the other was hidden behind his back.

– It's been a few days since you two came to visit me at the seas, but even then, it didn’t go unnoticed by me that y/n has been feeling often tired even when she didn’t do hard work. As far as I remember, it hasn’t always been like this – he glanced at your sleeping figure and lowered his tone, as to enter a subject about which he wasn’t sure to have the right to discuss – Not only this, but she has shown such appetite that differs from what we’ve seen from her since her transformation. Don’t you think it’s strange? It’s like she’s unconsciously trying to restock her body’s energy… from something that might be stealing it.

The smile hanging on Hades’ lips since the beginning of the conversation disappeared when he heard that. There was something... wrong with you? Well, he had to be honest and admit that you’ve been showing some strange symptoms beside the uncommon sleep and hunger lately: you’ve been more sensitive to physical contact, to some textures, smells and tastes, and have been avoiding long walks and other forms of physical effort.

However, your aspect was far from bad. Instead, you’ve became more beautiful these last days: your eyes gained more vivacity; your skin had its tone renewed, especially on your face, where it was now showing a sort of glow; your hair was thicker, though you haven’t tried any new treatment lately; also, the curves of your body were accentuated, something visible even when you wore floating dresses.

Surely, that didn’t look like the case of someone whose vital energy has been sucked. Did Poseidon understand what he was suggesting?

– Something that’s stealing her energy? – Hades glanced at you, then back at his brother – Are you suggesting that she might have been... cursed?

It wasn’t surprising that this was his first thought: gods didn’t get sick as the humans did, so the most effective way to cause dysfunction in their divine bodies without getting into a physical fight or making them use all their power was cursing them.

– It’s hard to believe that someone would have the audacity to do this to the Queen of Hellheim – Poseidon stated in a calm tone – But we cannot discard the possibility so soon. You know that not all gods have good relations with Greece. And, I have to say that, not everyone here has a positive view on Psyche’s ritual. You know what it means, brother.

Yes, Hades knew it. A human turning into a god is never a simple case. Psyche herself and Heracles were the most famous in this category, and the challenges and adversities in their way were well known by each god of each pantheon. When he proposed the wedding and the ritual, Hades was aware that a similar fate would be waiting for you, and he warned you about it. For love, you said yes to him despite that, but your willingness wasn’t enough to calm down his worries, so he took measures to protect you in every way he could. As time passed, the possibility of some evil force touching you became more and more improbable, but it never left his mind completely.

So, when Poseidon brought it back, he was ready to act.

He woke you up whispering your name. Once you were back, you straightened up and rubbed your eyes...

And startled when you saw you were not alone.

– P-Poseidon-sama! I’m... – you tried to fix your hair, avoiding his glare as you spoke – I’m so sorry for this scene...

– Don’t worry about this, y/n – was his composed reply – I'll be leaving soon. I think my brother has some matters to discuss with you now.

You turned to Hades and the slight sign of preoccupation you saw in his eyes made you shiver: with Hades being the most confident person you’ve ever known, it was rare to see it in him, and unsettling precisely because of it.

– My brother and I were talking and he said something that made me think of you – Hades explained before you said anything – That’s all.

When you seemed to calm down, Poseidon excused himself, stating that his presence in the council would be soon required. It only took one moment and you no longer heard his steps on the corridor, as his silhouette disappeared in the nearest corner.

Once you were sure you were alone, you turned to your husband and touched his face, making him look at you.

– Hades, my dear – you whispered – I can see you’re worried. What were you talking about? What did he say that put you in this state?

Hades took your hand in his and kissed its palm.

– He just pointed out some things I myself noticed these days concerning you, little one, but refused to acknowledge.

– Concerning me? How so?

He put your hand upon his shoulder.

– You’ve been acting… weird these days, y/n. You’ve been experiencing changes in your sleeping and eating habits, as well as frequent episodes of tiredness. When we visited Poseidon in his palace, he noticed this too, but only brought it to my attention now. But this is not everything.

– What do you mean?

– My brother suggested that these strange symptoms are being caused by some force or influence over your body, which is stealing your energy and forcing you to compensate the loss with more resting and food.

You frowned, trying to process what you heard.

– Something is stealing my energy? Are you telling me that Poseidon-sama thinks that I’m sick?

– My dear, have you forgotten that gods don’t get sick? What he suggested – he caressed your hair with visible preoccupation – Is that you might have been cursed.

You gasped.

– Cursed?! But… how? Why? And... by who?

Hades took a moment deliberating before giving you a verbal answer.

– This is what we need to discover. But we won’t do it if we stay here.

– So, where do you think we should go?

The answer was categorical… and not entirely pleasing to you.

– Back to Hellheim – Hades helped you to stand and started leading you back inside the building – I’ll talk to Zeus and ask him to excuse ourselves from this council. I'm sure he will understand. Then, once we reach home, I’ll contact Beelzebub. There’s no person who knows more about curses than him. He will know what to do.

You swallowed. If your husband considered necessary to reach out to Beelzebub-sama, he surely believed the case was serious, more than he’d like to tell you. However, you weren’t feeling that bad: the strange signs were as vivid to you as they were to Hades, but you haven’t sensed in them any threat against your life. Besides... you were still unable to feel entirely comfortable in the presence of the Lord of the Flies, mostly because the human perception of him was still alive in you, so you still avoided him as much as you could.

And you tried to do it that time as well.

– Do you really think it’s necessary, my dear? – you stopped and held his arm, making him turn to you – I don’t think my situation is that serious... And I don’t like the idea of disturbing Beelzebub-sama. He must be too busy with his works.

Hades’ response was to stare at you for a while and show you a teasing smile.

– After all this time, you’re still afraid of him, aren’t you?

You gasped.

– What?! I-I'm not...!

Though your moods were inflamed, your indignation was just too cute for your husband, whose laughter made you give up on the argument.

– There’s no need to worry, little one – he pulled you into a warm hug and kissed the top of your head – I’ll be there with you during the whole visit. Besides, Beelzebub is an excellent, reliable professional. I’ve told you about the times he helped my family, right? This case must be no challenge for him.

***

You were anxious.

On the first break of the council, Hades hurried to Zeus’ private room to announce your leaving. You were present at that moment and heard all the conversation, of course, and even wanted to make your opinions known, but weren't willing to interrupt: Hades already decided to leave Heaven, and making him change his mind would be too complicated by now; besides, you didn’t want to cause more disturbance to Zeus-sama, who was already busy with the matters of the council.

The thing is that there were some details about your case you didn’t tell your husband, for you yourself weren’t sure of how to deal with them and didn’t want to make him worried before understanding what was going on: besides the symptoms noticed by Poseidon, you’ve been feeling dizzy at random moments of the day, something that you would solve with a few minutes sitting on a comfortable chair, and during mornings, your stomach would feel weird, forcing you to leave the bed to throw. You didn’t know the reason behind these episodes of nausea, since you haven’t made any changes in your diet, so you just ignored them, thinking they were a consequence from the anxiety about the council and hoping they would soon pass.

But they didn’t.

Right in the morning of the trip, it happened again, but you were lucky that Hades used to leave the bed hours before you, so he didn’t see anything, just like in the previous days. You knew you couldn’t hide this forever, so you started to think of how to talk to him about it. However, before you could do it, Poseidon came to speak with his brother; and, trusting him as he did, Hades soon decided that taking you to see a doctor was the best.

And, now that Zeus accepted his request to leave and was saying his farewell, there was nothing you could do. You would just go back to your lodge and pack your things as your husband went to prepare the carriage that would take you back to the Underworld.

***

Hades closed the door of that strange room behind you after you entered, then led you to the middle of it.

The place was filled with tables covered with bottles of all possible shapes, containing bubbling fluids, bowls with colored powders, tools and paper notes, everything touched with a soft, white light descending from the ceiling. It was a quiet room with just occasional noises that barely disturbed your ears, yet with so many things happening at the same time that you were afraid you were going to have an episode of dizziness if you stood there for too long. As if it wasn’t enough, the smells of mixed chemical composts invaded your nostrils, threatening your stomach with a nausea crisis.

In the middle of this, sitting calmly on a chair and reading the last lines of a note in his hands, was the man about whom your husband spoke as being the greatest specialist in curses he knew: Beelzebub, the solitary god who has traveled between all the known worlds seeking for a cure for his own curse.

Because of his decision of not establishing close relations to his pairs, you’ve only seen him in a few occasions since you became a goddess, and he would never stay for too long in your presence; besides, Hades was the one who used to lead the conversations during those occasions, so that you never had an opportunity to talk directly to him for a more than a few minutes. This always caused a sort of discomfort in you whenever you had to deal with him, as if you never knew if you were bothering him, even less how he felt towards you.

That time wasn’t different, and the fact that you were the main subject of the encounter only made you more nervous.

When Beelzebub finally left the paper over the table and raised his eyes to you, you swallowed. Not only those dark, lightless pupils scared you as much as Poseidon’s aura used to do in your first years in the Greek family, but the contrast between them and that young face of his still unsettled you. Letting him notice your discomfort was your worst fear concerning the Lord of the Flies, so you avoided his gaze and waited for Hades to lead the matters for you.

– So, what’s bothering you, Hades-san? – he turned his chair to you; and, with a soft smile, – It’s been a long time since you asked for my help.

– And I’d be forever grateful if you could help me once again – Hades put a soft hand over your head – My y/n has been experiencing strange symptoms that could be considered the consequences of sickness if she was still human. I talked to Poseidon about it and he suggested that this might be a case of… curse.

Beelzebub spent a few seconds looking at Hades before turning his gaze to you; you shivered, crossing your arms over your chest as he examined you from head to toe. He looked back to your husband...

And asked the last thing he was expecting.

– What do you mean, she’s cursed?

Chapter 2

[malarkay]

Too Real Is This Feeling of Make-Believe

When the Storm Hawks intercept a transmission claiming that Master Cyclonis is going to Terra Neon, they assume the worst. Determined to stop her before she can carry out any nefarious plans, they head straight for the terra. But things go differently than how anyone had planned.

“Remind me again why I agreed to this,” Master Cyclonis prompted, and Ace suppressed a sigh as he took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face the mirror again. 

“Hold still,” he told her, just forceful enough to gain her compliance without sounding too commanding, which ran the risk of earning her ire.  He was well-versed in the art of wrangling his mercurial empress.  Combing her hair out of her eyes with his fingers, he deftly began to work it into a single Galean braid.  “You agreed because you wisely recognize that you need a day off to decompress from all the stress you've been under lately.”  

He’d been trying to get her to take a vacation for the past month and a half, ever since he’d endured a tirade from a fed-up Ravess who declared that working for Cyclonis was becoming, quote, a fucking nightmare.  Something had to give if they didn't want a mutiny on their hands.  He’d begun by suggesting two weeks on Tropica, which she rejected outright.  He hadn't had any luck getting her to agree to take a week off, either.  Finally, she had agreed to one day off.  It was better than nothing.  He’d been quick to suggest Terra Neon.  She was the perfect age for it, and the terra provided the most bang for your buck.  

A disgruntled hum was her only response.  She was clearly second-guessing her decision.  Finishing with her hair, he handed her her Chroma Crystal necklace.  She slipped it on, tucking it under her shirt, and they both took a moment to gaze into the mirror, studying the effect.  Her braided hair was now a sandy brown, her eyes a light blue that matched the shirt she wore under a royal blue zippered hoodie.  She’d ditched the black nail polish and had opted for a thinner, subtler eyeliner.

“Your own grandmother wouldn't recognize you,” he assured her as she moved to gather the rest of her things into a black backpack: a telescopic staff in case she needed to defend herself, an Oblivion Crystal in case she really needed to defend herself, and a Warp Crystal in case she needed to make a quick getaway.  More cash than she could possibly spend in a day was tucked into a zippered pocket hidden inside her hoodie.  “You’ll be shadowed the whole time by undercover Talons, and I’ll be here making sure the place doesn't burn down in your absence.  You have nothing to worry about.”

“I'm not worried,” she told him.

“Voice.”

She rolled her eyes with a sigh before clearing her throat.  “I’m not worried,” she repeated in a lighter, much less intimidating tone.  

Satisfied that she looked and sounded like any other fifteen-year-old kid and not like one of the most hated and feared people in all of Atmos, he told her he hoped she had fun today and sent her on her way.

~*~*~

The Storm Hawks were on their way to Terra Neon, and Finn couldn't be happier, even if they were technically on a mission.  They'd intercepted an encrypted Cyclonian transmission earlier.  Piper had managed to partially decrypt it, unscrambling it just enough to learn that Master Cyclonis herself was supposedly going to be on the terra today.  They didn't know when or why, but as Aerrow had said, she couldn't be up to anything good.  Their job was to find her, figure out what her intentions were, and ultimately stop her from carrying out her plans.

They would have to be sneaky about it.  If Cyclonis caught on that they were after her, she could bail, coming back later to finish what she started when they weren't around to stop her.  Or she might decide to stay and fight, which could lead to innocent people getting hurt.  They couldn't risk that, so they'd have to catch her by surprise.  That meant disguises, but Piper only had three Chroma Crystals.  It was decided that he, Piper, and Aerrow would be the ones to search the terra while Stork, Junko and Radarr would remain aboard the Condor to monitor the radio for any more Cyclonian chatter.  To cover more ground, they were going to split up.  Finn rubbed his hands in anticipation.  This was going to be great!  Without Piper breathing down his neck, he didn't see why his search couldn't include going on a ride or two.  What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

They changed into civilian clothes as they approached the terra, him tossing on a black leather jacket over a dark green t-shirt before raiding his piggy bank for spending money.  Meeting back up with the others, he accepted his Chroma Crystal, making sure it was securely tucked into one of his pockets.

Crossing his eyes, he looked up at his hair to see what colour it had turned, frowning when he saw that it was black.  He looked over at the other two, Aerrow with his bright blue hair and Piper with her pink hair, and huffed.  “Aww man, why’d I have to get the boring hair?  Do my eyes look cool, at least?’

“These crystals aren't the best quality,” Piper admitted, sounding a little embarrassed.  “Your eyes didn't change colour.”

He looked at the other two closer to see that their eyes hadn't changed, either.  That made him feel a little better.  Not enough to stop his disappointed whine, though.

“You look fine,” Junko reassured him, messing with his hair a little to style it differently.  “There, no one’s gonna recognize you now.”

“Thanks, Junko,” he smiled, making a mental note to try to win his best friend the biggest teddy bear he could find.

Piper gave him one of her knowing looks like she could read his mind.  “Just remember, you're here to find Cyclonis, not to goof off or chase girls.”

“Cyclonis is a girl,” he pointed out, and Piper rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised she didn't hurt herself.

“You know what I mean!”

“Yeah, yeah.”  He crossed his arms.  “I get it.  We have a job to do,” he said, showing the others that he understood the assignment.

“Okay, so here's the plan,” Aerrow said.  “We’ll keep in touch through our earpieces.  If you see her, don't engage.  Let the rest of us know, and follow her until we can get to you.  Our weapons are too conspicuous, so we’ll leave them here.  Junko and Radarr can bring them to us once we’ve found her, and we’ll go from there.  Got it?”

They all agreed, and, at last, it was time to have some fun.

~*~*~

Have fun, Ace had told her, and she fully intended to meet that challenge.  It would just take a little planning and strategy first.  Armed with one of the cutesy little maps they handed out at the park gates, she claimed an empty bench and started plotting out which rides and attractions she wanted to check out, meticulously charting the most efficient route between them so that she didn't waste any time.

Once her day was planned, she got up and headed toward her first stop.  She’d almost made it to her destination when she felt someone slip their arm around her shoulders and loudly say, “There you are!  I've been looking all over for you!”  She stiffened and stopped walking, only to have her overly friendly assailant prompt her to keep moving as he whispered, “Just play along.  You've got someone following you.”

Ah.  So a would-be rescuer, not an assailant.  She glanced over her shoulder just long enough to catch sight of one of her plain-clothed Talons in the crowd before the boy with his arm still wrapped around her said, “Don't look!  We don't want him to know we’re onto him.”

She decided to play along.  The sooner this was over with, the sooner she could go about her day.  So she let him lead her through a turn or two.  He’d sneak a glance toward their shadow every time they changed directions.  After a few minutes of that, she gestured behind her back, ordering the Talon to withdraw.  It worked.  Once he noticed they were no longer being followed, her rescuer relaxed, letting his arm drop.  

“That was one scary-looking dude,” he said as he shuffled to a stop.  “I’m glad we lost him.”

She couldn't disagree with his assessment.  That particular Talon was a very large, intimidating man.  She wasn't sure what Ace had been thinking with that pick.  If she were ever forced to take another day off, she'd be sure to choose more inconspicuous-looking Talons as security.  

“Thanks for looking out for me,” she said, finally able to get a good look at him.  He was about her age, with bright blue eyes and tousled black hair.  No taller than she was, and slightly built, he had to have been either very brave or very stupid to think that he could have done anything to stop the behemoth of a Talon from hurting them if that was his goal.  Probably both.  Surprisingly, it wasn't the suspicion that he was an idiot that bothered her.  It was that there was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what.

He gave her a grin that was clearly meant to be flirtatious, which made the feeling even more pronounced.  Why was he so familiar?  This was really going to bug her until she could figure out who he reminded her of.  “Well,” he drawled, “if you really want to thank me, we could hang out for a little while.  Go on a couple of rides, maybe have lunch together later?”

“No.”

He wilted at her flat rejection.  She almost felt bad.

“How about one ride?” he suggested, looking so hopeful that the second no she had prepared died in her throat.  She sighed.

“Fine.  One ride.”  She looked around to figure out where they were, then consulted her map.  “The StarFlyer’s that way,” she said, pointing.  “That's where I was going first.”

“The StarFlyer?” he said, making a face.  “That's for babies!”

“No, it's not,” she said, defending the swing ride.  It may not be the most thrilling ride in the park, but anything that dangled you a hundred and thirty-five meters into the air and then spun you around at seventy-five kilometres per hour was hardly what she'd call a ride for babies.  

“Yeah, it is,” he said dismissively.  “I wanna go on that!” he said, pointing to the giant roller coaster off in the distance.

She looked back down at her map.  Not only was it out of their way, but it wasn't even on the list of rides she wanted to go on.  She'd overheard that it was the most popular ride on the terra and that the lines were always long.  She didn't want to wait in a long line.

“We’re going on the StarFlyer,” she told him.  “Take it or leave it.”

“Ohhh, I get it.  You’re scared,” he said obnoxiously.

“What?  No.”

“Why else would you say no to the best ride on the whole terra?”

“Because, in the time it will take us to get through that line, we could have gone on three other rides.”

“We?” he grinned, stopping just short of waggling his eyebrows.

She narrowed her eyes at him but otherwise ignored his comment.  “It’s an inefficient use of our time.”

“You sound just like one of my other friends,” he groaned.

“Well, your friend sounds like they have a good head on their shoulders.  Look,” she said, holding out her map, ready to explain her carefully laid plans in detail.  He took one look at the map and the little annotations she had made in the margins and shuddered.  Snatching the map away from her, he crumpled it up and tossed it into the nearest garbage bin.  

“That took me an hour!”

“And in that hour, you could have gone on the roller coaster instead!  Listen, you can’t plan a day at Terra Neon.  You have to feel a day at Terra Neon.”

“I feel,” she drawled out emphatically, “like that sounded better in your head.”

He scoffed.  “I’m going on the roller coaster,” he said and started walking.  When she didn’t follow immediately, he stopped and turned around.  “You coming or not?”

With a sigh, she followed.  “Don’t look so smug,” she told him when she caught his satisfied little smirk.  “I agreed to go on one ride with you.  I’m just keeping that promise.”

“Uh-huh,” he said as they walked, still grinning.  “So, what’s your name, anyway?  I’m Fi…” his words trailed off in a cough, and he thumped himself on the chest a couple of times before continuing.  “Felix,” he finished.

Names.  Right.  She hadn’t thought she’d need a name when she came here, not expecting to pick up company.  She considered using Lark but dismissed that idea.  She didn’t like how things had ended the last time she gave someone that name.  She’d have to come up with something else.  It didn’t take long for one to bubble up from the darkest depths of her subconscious, and she blurted it out without thinking.  “Andy,” she said, and nearly winced.  When she was younger, and her grandmother was still alive, there was a boy whose father was governor of Gale for a few years until his assassination.  She couldn’t remember his or his father’s name, now.  It wasn’t important.  What was important was that he insisted on butchering her name whenever she saw him.  Ignoring her repeated requests that he refer to her by her preferred middle name, her surname, or her title, he had instead glommed onto her hated first name and then managed to make it even worse by shortening it.  Thus, Calandra had become Andy.  Ugh.  Well, there was no taking it back now.  For as long as she was stuck with Felix, she was stuck with this stupid name.

“Andy,” he said, smiling over at her.  “I like it.”

~*~*~

It turned out Andy was even more impatient than he was when standing in lines.  While he bounced on the balls of his feet as they slowly inched their way forward, hardly able to contain his excitement, she stood with her arms crossed, scowling, radiating major stormcloud energy.

Maybe he shouldn't have insisted on the roller coaster after all.  She was definitely going to ditch him the moment the ride was over.  He was going to blow his chances with a cute girl again!

‘You could try talking to her,’ an exasperated voice in his head told him.  It sounded suspiciously like Piper.  Duh!  Of course, he should talk to her!  It would distract her from the wait.

So he asked her where she was from.  After a moment’s hesitation, she told him she was from Terra Greemus.  

“Cool, what's it like there?  I've never been.”

There was another pause before she answered breezily, “Oh, you know….”

He didn't know, but he laughed like he did.  “Oh yeah.  Totally.”

“What about you?”

It only took him a split second to come up with an answer.  Piper would be proud of his quick thinking.  “Terra Rex,” he told her.  A part of him felt bad about lying to her, but he had to keep up the undercover act.  If Cyclonis was around here somewhere, there could be other Cyclonians around, too, and he couldn't afford to have any of them overhear who he really was.  It could ruin the whole operation.  

“Huh.  For some reason, I always thought everyone from Terra Rex was blond.”

Well yeah, he thought so, too.  That's why he…crap!  His hair wasn't blond!  It was fine; he could salvage this.  He could if his mind hadn't gone completely blank, anyway.  Come on, man, say something!  Anything!  “That's racist!”

She stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.  After a second, he started laughing, too, his face burning.  “It's not racist,” she insisted between bouts of laughter.  “A stereotype, maybe.”  Getting her laughter under control, she said, “It was stupid of me to believe that everyone from an entire terra would have the same hair colour, now that I think about it.  Sorry.”

“It's okay.  I get that a lot.”

The conversation became easier after that.  He learned that she was an only child and that it fell on her to take over the family business.  When he had asked what kind of business it was, she had waved a dismissive hand.  “Logistics.  Boring stuff.  I don't really want to talk about it.”  Fair enough, he didn't really want to talk about boring stuff, either.

He told her he had three brothers, a sister, and a very smart dog.  That made her smile, but it was kind of a sad smile.  She'd always wondered what it was like to have siblings, she told him.  And a pet.  She claimed she didn't have time to take care of a pet, though.  He suggested a cat.  Cats were supposed to be pretty easy, weren't they?  She shrugged.  “Maybe someday.”

She asked him what his plans for the future were, and it was his turn to shrug.  He couldn't tell her that he was already part of a Sky Knight squadron.  “I dunno.  I like helping people.  Maybe something that lets me do that.”

She grinned and asked him if he had ever considered trying to join the Rex Guardians.  He laughed outright at that.  “Join those stuck up windbags?  Dude, not on your life!”

That seemed to amuse her more than anything else he'd said.  

At last, they got to the front of the line, and soon enough, they were in the front car.  “Best seat on the ride!” he said excitedly.  “When we get to the top of the first hill, you gotta raise your arms in the air when we drop,” he instructed, suspecting that this was her first time on a roller coaster.  She had neither confirmed nor denied her roller coaster experience level when he’d asked her on the walk over.

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun?”

She looked skeptical but agreed.  The ride operator came around to yank on their restraints to make sure they were secured, and then away they went!

She was surprisingly chill throughout the ride.  Besides an initial yelp when the first drop came, there wasn't much screaming and yelling coming from her side of the car.  He thought she maybe hadn't enjoyed herself as they got off the ride, but when he asked her how she liked it, her smile and the way her eyes sparkled put that fear to rest.

“Wanna go again?”

“Yes!” she said without hesitation.

As they made their way back to the end of the line, he spotted two teenage boys about a third of the way from the front.  They looked pretty cool, which gave him an idea.   Grabbing Andy’s hand, he led her over to them, ducking under the railing to get in line behind them.

“Hey guys, what's up?  Thanks for saving our spot,” he told them.  Sure enough, the boys played along, fist-bumping him and acting like they were friends.  The person they had cut in front of grumbled a little but didn't make a big deal out of it.  Success!

“That was sneaky,” Andy told him approvingly.  He just grinned.  He’d just shaved so much time off their wait.  He didn't think he'd hear any more Piper-like complaints about 'inefficient use of time’ from her after this.

~*~*~

Cyclonis wasn't sure how it happened.  She wasn't sure how she had gone from counting down the minutes until she could ditch Felix for good to standing in line with him to go on their fifth ride of the day.  After their second time on the roller coaster, they had gone on the Gravitron, then something called the Pendulum, which she had not enjoyed.  Not that she was going to admit that to Felix and have him make fun of her.  Honestly, it had started out fine, simply rocking back and forth.  No big deal.  But then the ride had flipped them upside down and let them hang there for what felt like an eternity before it creakily continued on its arc.  And the restraints?  A joke.  They had been hung upside down with nothing but a frayed lap belt to prevent them from falling out!  The cursed thing was part torture device, part death trap.  Someone had definitely died on that ride before, no one could convince her otherwise.  Felix, obviously, loved it.

One thing was for certain, she was never going anywhere without a levitation crystal ever again.  Just in case.

Now they were waiting to go on something called The Orbit.  Round cars were attached to a central pole that swung them around the wavy track while the cars also rotated.  Felix explained that there was a wheel they could turn to control how fast the car spun.  The majority of the cars spun at a relaxed pace, while a few were barely moving at all, and one was spinning so fast it looked like it might fly off the ride entirely, its occupants screaming bloody murder the whole time.  She already knew by the way Felix’s smile grew manic as he watched that that would be them soon enough. 

They had stopped along the way to get some cotton candy; yet another thing that she'd never tried before that Felix seemed so casually familiar with.  As they waited in line, he offered her some first.  She pinched off a bit of the fluffy pink candy, popping it into her mouth.  It dissolved instantly, and she couldn't help but make a face.  “It tastes like pure sugar,” she said.  She wasn't sure she liked it.

“Not true,” he said as he ate some.  “There's also food colouring.”  After a brief moment of deliberation, she took some more, giving it a second chance.  Knowing what to expect this time helped.  It actually wasn't that bad.  Between the two of them, they finished it all by the time they got to the front of the line.

~*~*~

They were on their way to grab some lunch when Aerrow’s voice came through his earpiece.

“Everyone check in.  Are we all doing okay?”

Oh no….

He quickly scanned the area on the off chance he might spot Cyclonis somewhere in the crowd.  It was the first time he’d given the matter any thought in…a while.  Nope.  No Cyclonians here.  But there was a bathroom.  Perfect.  Smiling apologetically to Andy, he excused himself as all the others sounded off that they hadn't seen anything suspicious all morning.  “All good here,” he told everyone as he entered the bathroom, turning a blind corner and running right into Aerrow.  Literally.  

“Ahhhh!” he screamed, startled.  Aerrow yelped, stumbling back a couple of steps before catching himself.

“Finn!  What the heck?”

“Nothing!”

That earned him a suspicious look.  Honestly, where was the trust?  But whatever suspicions Aerrow had, he didn't voice them.  Instead, he said, “I'm about to head over to the food court for lunch.  Do you want-”

“No!”

He could have kicked himself.  Now Aerrow really did look suspicious.  It wasn't like him to turn down food.

“Is everything okay?  You're doing what you're supposed to, right?  Because Piper thinks-”

“Pfft, come on, Piper always thinks I'm slacking off, but I've got this!  If….” He looked around, aware that they were still in a public area and easily overheard.  “If she's here, I’ll be the first one to find her.  Guaranteed.”

“Good,” Aerrow smiled.  Giving him a quick hug, he told him to be careful and left.  Finn waited a full sixty seconds for the coast to clear before walking back outside, wondering how they were going to avoid running into Aerrow again.

~*~*~

Less than a minute had gone by since Felix disappeared into the bathroom before one of her Talons casually sidled up to her.  Luckily not the big, brutish-looking one who had caught Felix’s attention this morning.

He crossed his arms, carefully looking away from her before he spoke.  “Everything alright?” he asked respectfully.  The ‘Master’ part was left unspoken but implied.

“Yes,” she answered, watching him out of the corner of her eye.  

“That boy isn't bothering you, is he?  He can be made to disappear.”

So eager.  He must be gunning for a promotion.

“That won't be necessary.  I find him amusing for now.”

The man gave a nearly imperceptible nod.  “We stand ready to assist you should you need us,” he reminded her.

“Of course.  I expect nothing less.”

With that, the Talon disappeared back into the crowd.  Soon after, Felix returned to her side.  “So, change of plans,” he told her.  “My stomach doesn't feel so good between all that cotton candy and crazy rides.”

Gross.  She shifted a little bit away from him, and he rushed to reassure her.  “No!  I didn't…I wasn't sick in there.  I’m fine!  I just thought we could ride the StarFlyer first before lunch.”

“You want to ride the baby ride?” she teased him.

“Yes,” he smirked.  “I wanna ride the baby ride.”

“Okay,” she agreed.  She shifted her backpack so that she could get at the outside pocket, unzipping it and pulling out a pack of peppermint gum, offering him a piece.  Hopefully, he was telling the truth about not getting sick in the bathroom, but just in case….

“To help settle your stomach,” she prompted.  

Slipping the gum back into her bag once he had taken some, she shouldered her backpack, and they headed off to the StarFlyer.

~*~*~

So, Andy might be onto something with the StarFlyer, now that he’d given it a proper chance.  Okay, three proper chances.  It was actually really relaxing.  It was like flying on a Skimmer, but not really.  Flying took concentration, always running calculations and making little adjustments to make sure nothing bad happened.  This felt more like falling, only no, because falling was scary, and this ride wasn’t scary.  It was somewhere in between the two.  He could just sit back and enjoy the view of the sky and the wind whipping through his hair without a care in the world.

“Wanna go a fourth time?” he asked once they were back on the ground.  The other great thing about this ride was that there was almost no wait time.  The walk to the ride and three trips through the short line had only burned half an hour.

“Nah, I nearly fell asleep this last time,” she confessed.

“You, too?” he laughed.  “It’s so…” he trailed off, trying to think of a better description than ‘relaxing.’

“Meditative,” she finished for him.

“Really?  My friend, the one I said you remind me of a little bit, meditates.  I tried it once, but I couldn’t get into it.”

“It takes a lot of practice.  No one gets it right the first time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Are you feeling better?” “100%.  Ready to eat whenever you are!”  

She nodded, and they started off for the food court.  “I just don’t get how you’re supposed to clear your mind of all thoughts,” he said as they walked.

“You don’t,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  

“No offence, but I think you’re meditating wrong.”

“No, you are.  You can’t just stop thinking altogether.  That’s stupid.  You’re going to have thoughts.  Meditating is about learning how to not dwell on those thoughts.  It’s kind of like watching a leaf float past you.  You have no control over the wind that blew that leaf towards you.  You can’t stop the leaf from approaching you.  But you can watch it pass you by without reaching out and grabbing it.”

“Whoa,” he said.  That made way more sense than how Piper had explained it.  “So you think the thought, but you don’t really think the thought?” he asked, putting more emphasis on the second ‘think.’

“Exactly.  Like I said, it’s not easy at first, but you get better at it the more you try.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked.  He was so confused by this girl.  She’d obviously never been on a roller coaster before today, but she also hadn’t been scared riding it.  She didn’t know what cotton candy was, but she could wax poetic about meditation.  And who the heck came to an amusement park alone, anyway?  Had he befriended an escapee from a monastery?  Was that a thing?

They got to the food court, and he watched her study the menu boards, her brow furrowing more the longer she stared at them.

“Problem?” he asked.

“Do they not have anything healthy here?”

Oh yeah.  She had definitely escaped from a monastery.  He was sure of it.

“No, everything here is terrible for you.  That’s what makes it fun.”

She hummed indecisively.  After another full minute of silence, she asked, “Wanna split one of everything?”

“Umm, I don’t think I have enough money for that.”

“That’s okay.  I do.”

Seriously, who was this girl?!

~*~*~

In the end, they didn't get one of everything, but they came close.  They'd settled on a sampler platter that came with chicken strips, potato skins, fried zucchini, and mozzarella sticks.  Then they'd added some nachos, a giant slice of pizza that they cut in half, a side of fries, and a couple of sodas.  

Cyclonis didn't think they'd end up finishing it all once she saw it all laid out on the table between them, but she had been wrong.  After one of everything from the sampler platter, her half slice of pizza, a quarter of the nachos and a handful of fries, she was uncomfortably full.  

Felix, meanwhile, was still going strong.  She watched in horror and fascination as he polished off the rest of the food.  Hadn't he complained about feeling sick just an hour ago?  Were all teenage boys like this, or was he some sort of freak of nature?

“Maybe we should hold off on going on any more rides for a while,” she suggested as they cleared their table.  She would hate to have to murder him if he threw up all over her.

“Okay.  They have a really cool arcade here.  We can hang out there for a while,” he suggested, and she agreed.

Forty-five minutes later, she decided she wasn’t a fan of arcades.  There were way too many flashing lights and blaring sounds, all jumbled together into one big discordant mess, and it didn't take long for it all to start getting on her nerves.  On top of that, Felix had obliterated her in basically every game they'd played together.

Yeah, she wasn't having fun.  

At least Felix took his wins gracefully.  Now.  The first time he beat her, he had started dancing around, exalting himself and mocking her in turns.  Eventually, he noticed the look on her face, and it instantly shut him up.  Gulping, he had called her scary before suggesting they try a different game.  Since then, he'd wisely kept his opinions about how badly she sucks to himself.

“There's a laser tag arena next door,” Felix told her after another fifteen minutes.  She wasn't sure if he had gotten bored or if he had finally noticed her discomfort.  Either way, she was grateful to get out of there.

~*~*~

It didn’t take long for them to get suited up and join a bunch of other smaller groups who would all be playing together.  They had the arena for an hour and would get to play as many rounds as they could fit into that time.  Once the rules had been explained, they broke into two teams of ten.  He and Andy were on the same team, their red armbands distinguishing them from their blue-banded enemies.

It was a simple game of Capture the Flag.  Respawns were allowed, but if you were hit, you had to go back to your team’s base before rejoining the game.  A whistle blew, and the game began.  The arena was huge, dimly lit, but not too dark, with multiple levels and plenty of obstacles to hide behind between them and the opposite team’s base.  

“Follow me,” Andy told him, sounding like she had a plan.  It didn't take him long to regret his decision to do so as she led them up to one of the upper levels, found a person-sized foam pyramid to conceal them behind, and then…decided to camp there?

She flattened herself against the ground in a spot where she could watch the chaos going on below.  He had to admit that it did give them a really good view of the entire arena, but if all she wanted to do was watch the game instead of play, she could have saved her money.

“Watch our backs,” she told him.  After five minutes of dutifully doing as he was told, he got bored.  Only one other player had come up to their level the entire time, and he easily took the kid out.

He had had enough of sitting on the sidelines.  “Okay, well, you have fun up here.  I'm gonna go actually play the game now.”

“Hold your position,” she ordered.  

“Andy, seriously, this is so boring.  I wanna play.”

“Hold.  Your.  Position,” she said, glaring back over her shoulder at him.  Scary Andy was back.  

“Okay, fine,” he told her, holding up his hands in surrender.

Two more minutes passed.  He got to shoot one other enemy player who had tried and failed to sneak up on them, but that was as exciting as things had gotten for him.  He was considering shooting himself so that he’d have to go back down to where all the action was when she spoke.

“What's the range on these laser guns?” 

“Uhh, I dunno.”

She hummed in thought, pointing to a player who was pinned behind another foam pyramid on the lower level.  “Shoot her.”

“She's on our team,” he protested.

“So?”

“Do you…do you get the objective of this game?”

With a sigh, she aimed her laser gun at her chosen target and fired, hitting her on her second try.  

“Andy, what the heck?”

“That was fifty meters,” was all she had to say for herself.  She pointed out another player, this one on the opposite team.  “Would you say that's a hundred?”

“Give or take,” he agreed.  He took aim, fired, and hit his target on the first try.

They tried a hundred and fifty meters, followed by two hundred, registering a hit at both distances.  Anything beyond that appeared to be out of range.

“You're a good shot,” she complimented him.

“I know,” he grinned, which made her roll her eyes.

She watched the battle rage below them for another minute before announcing, “I've seen enough.”

Getting up, she led him back down to the main level.  Their flag was gone by the time they got back to their base, and less than a minute later, the whistle blew again, signalling the end of the game.  The blue team had won that round.

Once the red team was back together, Finn just about had a heart attack when Andy lit into their teammates.  “That was pathetic.  There was no cohesion, no strategy; it's like you all wanted us to lose.  So let me tell you what's going to happen in the next game…”

“Who the fuck died and made you queen?” a disgruntled older teen who had nearly thirty centimetres and fifty kilos on Andy interrupted.

Showing an alarming lack of fear, Andy stepped closer to the almost full-grown man who had spoken out against her.  She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes, but when she did, the guy took a nervous step back.  “Oh, I'm sorry.  I wasn't aware you wanted to keep losing.”

Ohhh.  Scary Andy had a scary voice to match now.  That was new.  And vaguely familiar for some reason?

The guy looked over to him.  “Bro, control your girl,” he blustered.

“I dunno, man, I think we should hear her out,” he said.

Thankfully, no one else on the team seemed to have a problem with injecting a little strategy into their gameplay, so they all agreed with him.  He gestured, prompting her to continue.  

“Now we don't have much time, so I’ll keep things simple,” Andy said as if the interruption never happened.  “Luckily, the blue team’s tactics are laughable, so we should be able to win pretty handily if everyone sticks to the plan-”

She quickly and succinctly laid out her plan, breaking the team into pairs and giving each pair a specific role to focus on.  As for them, they’d be the ones responsible for capturing the blue team’s flag.  “You wanted to play,” she told him with a smirk.  “Let’s see what you got.”

The whistle blew, starting the game.

One pair stayed behind to guard the flag, while another split up and headed off to opposite sides of the upper levels.  Andy said she had seen them both make some pretty impressive shots during the first game and decided they should be their snipers.  The other two pairs stuck to the perimeters of the arena, moving to flank the enemy.  The middle of the arena was all theirs.  They moved from pyramid to pyramid, him covering her when she was on the move, with her doing the same for him.  They each landed a few good ‘kills’ and made it to the last pyramid before the enemy base unscathed.  A member of the blue team was guarding the flag, perfectly positioned so they couldn’t get a clear shot of her target sensor without leaving the safety of their cover and putting themselves at risk.  

Andy waved up at the upper levels, trying to get the attention of one of their snipers.  They didn’t have to wait long.  No more than ten seconds later, the flag guardian’s vest lit up, indicating a hit.  They both darted forward, him reaching the flag first.  

“Go, go, go!” he said as he grabbed it, and they full-on sprinted back towards their side of the arena.  Andy got hit along the way, but it didn’t matter.  He got the flag back to their base before whoever had shot Andy could get him, too.  The whistle blew, and the match was over.  Their team had won, with enough time left for one more round.  A tie-breaker.

Before the third round, Andy ran a whole new strategy by the team.   They couldn’t use the same tactics as last time, she said, because the blue team was probably busy right now coming up with ways to counteract them after their success.  Just as she was assigning roles, Aerrow’s voice came through his earpiece. 

Seriously?  Now was so not a good time.

“Hey guys, I don’t suppose any of you have had any luck locating the target?”

The poor guy sounded so hopeful and so bored at the same time.  He glanced at Andy, thinking fast.  “I call dibs on sniper!” he told her.

That seemed to throw her off for a second, but she recovered quickly, restructuring the team so that they were the snipers for this round.  Once the whistle sounded, he ran up to the upper levels and wedged himself into a corner where he could see anyone trying to come at him.  Alone, he could finally speak freely.  

“Nope, still nothing.  Also, I vote that the next time we come to Terra Neon, it’s to have fun.  Today has been a real drag,” he said, shooting a blue team member who had immediately shown up looking to take out the snipers.

“Finn, where are you?  Why’d it take so long for you to answer?”

“I think the better question, Piper, is where are you?”

So he could avoid it like the plague….

“Right now?  Outside the theatre.  Now answer the question.”

“I’m near the carousel.”

“Really?  I’m near the carousel, and I don’t see you,” Aerrow said.

“Uhhh….”

“Finn!” Piper said disapprovingly.

“Okay!  I stopped to play a game of laser tag.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied.  As soon as the game ends, I’m heading right back outside.”

He winced to himself.  Technically, he wasn’t lying?

He heard Aerrow sigh through the earpiece.  “Listen, at this point, I don’t think that the intel we got was right.  So how about this?  Stay undercover, keep a lookout for Cyclonians, but if there’s anything fun you wanna do, go ahead and do it.”

“Dude, do you mean that?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the best!”

“Thanks, Aerrow!” Piper said, all traces of her earlier irritation gone.

The line went quiet again.  

Finn grinned to himself.  “Alright, time to bag me some-” 

The whistle blew.

“Aww, man!”

~*~*~

She was in a pretty good mood as they left the arena, her team having absolutely slaughtered the blue team in back-to-back matches.  

“So, what kind of logistics business does your family run that requires you to know battle tactics and strategy?” Felix asked her teasingly.

“Just one of the many perks of a classical education,” she joked.  “Where'd you learn to shoot like that?”

“Well, since you asked,” he smirked, “follow me.”

He led her to the carnival game section of the park and right up to one of the booths.  It was one where you shoot little duck targets as they move along a conveyor belt.  

“Seriously?” she laughed.

“Hey, don't knock it until you try it,” he said, slapping down enough money to buy them into the game.

They spent the next hour playing every game there.  Felix won a stuffed bunny that was nearly as big as he was.  He asked the game operator if he could leave it there and return for it later, and the man gave him a ticket to bring back when he was ready to claim it.

“What're you going to do with that thing?”

“It's for my brother.  He was disappointed he couldn't come today.”

She couldn't help but smile a little at that.  Felix seemed like a genuinely good guy; she was glad they had met.  He'd made the day a lot more fun than it would have been if she had spent it alone.

She won a goldfish from the last game they played.  She emulated Felix, asking if she could claim it at the end of the day, and was given her own ticket.

“You did say you wished you had a pet,” Felix grinned.

“I said I don't have time to take care of a pet!”

“Well, you're in luck, ‘cause none of these fish look like they're gonna live past the end of next week, anyway,” he pointed out, and she scoffed.

The next couple of hours went by in a flurry of more rides.  They’d ridden the bumper skimmers, the carousel (where she had managed to snag a brass ring, winning a free ride), a ride that took you to the top of a tall tower and let you free fall from there, braking just a meter or two before hitting the ground, and the roller coaster for a third time.

Around sunset, they decided to go on the Ferris wheel.  The cars faced west, giving them a spectacular view.  She found herself enraptured as the disappearing sun painted the sky and the surrounding clouds orange, pink, and purple.  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.  

“Yeah,” he agreed.  He didn’t sound like he found it nearly as impressive as she did.  Then again, why would he?  On Terra Rex, with its clear blue skies, he’d probably seen hundreds of sunsets like this before.  Maybe even thousands.  Still, he didn’t tease her over her enthusiasm, and his smile was soft when she glanced over at him.  At some point, he’d managed to drape his arm around her shoulders without her noticing.  She was surprised to find that she didn’t mind.  She was even more surprised when, without even thinking about it, she leaned into him.

~*~*~

Finn tried to play it cool when Andy leaned into him, which wasn’t easy when his heart was pounding as hard as it was.  He really hadn’t been sure if she’d welcome his arm around her or not.  Sure, he thought they’d had a lot of fun together, but did she feel the same way?  Then there was the fact that he was lying to her about everything: who he was, where he was from, what he did for a living.  He felt really guilty about that, even more than he had when he had lied to Aerrow and Piper.  It was almost bad enough to convince him to keep his hands to himself.  

But then they had gotten to the top of the Ferris wheel, and she had gotten lost in the beauty of the sunset, and she just looked so….

Pretty, for sure, but it was more than that.  It was like walls he hadn’t even noticed were there before had disappeared, and he was seeing a side of her that not many people got to see.  Yes, she could be standoffish, sarcastic, hyper-competitive, and downright terrifying at times.  He didn’t think any of that was a front.  She was definitely all of those things.  But right now, she just looked so vulnerable.  And a little sad, like she was seeing something she really wanted but couldn’t have.  And it made him want to put his arm around her even more than he already did, to be her shield while hers were down.  

He had expected her to reject him; he really had.  He’d expected her to pull away, push his arm off of her, and make some kind of comment that would pour ice water all over these new feelings.  So when she leaned into him instead….

Oh boy.

This was bad.  

It made his whole body feel like it was buzzing.  And his heart was beating too hard.  And he was very aware of all the places her body pressed against his.  And she was warm?  He wasn’t sure why he was surprised by that.  Maybe because of the times she’d looked at him in a way that made a chill go down his spine?  That was probably it.  She gave off cold vibes.  But not now.  Definitely not now.

And it wasn’t fair, man, because this wasn’t real.  It’d never be real because, at the end of the day, he would go back to the Condor and give the Chroma Crystal back to Piper.  He’d go back to being Finn, not Felix, and never see Andy again.  Or if he did, he wouldn’t be able to tell her who he was.  She’d never want to talk to him again if she knew that he had spent all day lying to her.

The ride ended too soon.  He asked her if she wanted to grab dinner, she said yes, and then she took his hand!  His palm prickled as it pressed against hers, but he didn’t let go.

~*~*~

Something had happened up there on the Ferris wheel.  Cyclonis wasn’t sure what.  Felix’s whole demeanour had shifted.  He seemed anxious, upset even.  Had she done something to mess things up between them?  She couldn’t think of anything.  Then again, he wouldn’t be the first person she’d ever upset without intending to.  It was frustrating when that happened.  She much preferred upsetting people on purpose.  

Comforting others wasn’t really her strong suit, but she decided to try, reaching out to take his hand.  He clung to it like he never wanted to let go.  Okay.  Not something she’d done, then.  Good to know.  After a few minutes of walking in silence, she decided to come out and ask him about it.  “Are you okay?  You seem unhappy.”

He seemed to debate with himself whether or not to answer her question.  “It’s just…do you think we’re ever going to see each other again?”

Oh.

“Probably not,” she admitted.  Her chest felt too tight when she said that, and she realized that she wished it wasn’t true.  She just wasn’t sure how to make that happen short of kidnapping him, which was an option she disregarded immediately.  That wouldn’t go over well.  Besides, she’d only known him for a day.  She wasn’t even sure she liked him well enough to keep him forever.  

But what other options were there, really?  She couldn’t keep playing the part of ‘Andy’ indefinitely.  And a Free Atmosian, especially one from Terra Rex, probably wouldn’t be thrilled to learn that the girl he’d spent the entire day with was the Master of Cyclonia.  She couldn’t tell him that, he’d freak out, and that would ruin this perfectly good night.

No, they definitely weren’t going to see each other again.  Which was why they might as well make the most of the time they had left.  Which was what she told him next.  He had thought about that for a minute or two as they walked before nodding his acceptance.  

“I guess that’s the best way to look at it,” he agreed.

~*~*~

Strangely, Finn felt better after their talk.  It made things easier, knowing that this was a casual, one-day-only thing and that they were both okay with that.  Not that a part of him wasn’t still disappointed about that, and he could tell that a part of her was, too.  But it was better this way.  Way less complicated, too.  

The easy companionship they had shared for most of the day returned.  Neither of them was starving, so they each just got a corndog and another soda for dinner, not even bothering to sit down.  They ate as they walked, just taking in the sights and sounds of Terra Neon at night when the place really got to show off the lights it was named for.  When they were finished and had found a trash bin to toss their corndog sticks into, they went back to holding hands.  

They stumbled upon Ghost Carrier, the haunted dark ride, and Andy insisted they go on it.  He balked at first.  She really wanted to go on a scary ride?  After dark?  

“It’s a dark ride.  What difference does it make if we go on it during the day or at night?” she reasoned.

“Because at night, it’s still going to be dark after we get off the ride!”

“If you don’t want to go on it, that’s fine.  I can go by myself,” she sighed.

He gave her an unimpressed stare.  “That’s low, even for you,” he told her, and she laughed.  “Fine, let’s go.”

The ride ended up being eventful.  Tense music played throughout the entire thing, though it did nothing to drown out the various screams, growls, howls and maniacal laughter that punctuated every animatronic jump scares.  So many jump scares!  The music did nothing to drown out his screams, either.  

They emerged at the end with him clinging to Andy.  He’d practically crawled right into her lap by the end of the ride.  She had her face pressed against his shoulder, her own shaking as she laughed herself silly, he guessed at his expense.  So that’s where the maniacal laughter had been coming from.  

“I hope you’re happy,” he told her once they had escaped from the ride’s demonic clutches.

“Oh, I am,” she said smugly.  

They stopped by a food cart to get dessert, then walked some more until they found a quiet little spot by a water ride.  Not many people ventured into this section of the park after dark.  They leaned against the fence that separated the walkway from the manmade river, staring out over the dark water for a few minutes while they finished their churros.  Once they were both done, he leaned over and nudged her with his shoulder.  She turned to lean back against the fence, smiling at him.  “What?” she asked, making it sound like she already knew the answer to that question.  

He pushed away from the fence, moving to stand in front of her.  Reaching out, he tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear, grinning.  He hoped his grin didn’t look as awkward as it felt.  “So, uh, when you said we could make the most of the time we had left….”

Her smile turned into something dangerously close to a smirk.  Dangit!  He knew his grin looked awkward!  “Well, maybe not the most,” she said.  Did she sound nervous?  Why would-

What she meant caught up to him, and he blushed furiously.  He hoped it was dark enough to hide it.  “Dude, no!  No, no, I know that!” 

They both laughed.

“I didn’t expect that,” he assured her.  “I am so not ready for that.  But I would really like to kiss you.”

She nodded encouragingly, and he leaned forward, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to hers.  It was a gentle kiss, and after a moment, he pulled back, looking at her to make sure they were both still cool with this.

“I think we can do better than that,” she said, and he grinned.  Emboldened by her egging him on, he leaned back in for a more adventurous kiss this time.  That one kiss turned into many kisses before they decided that they should head back towards the main part of the park before it closed.  

That had been a lot of fun.  There had been a few less-than-great moments.  Neither of them had much (okay, any) experience kissing someone like that, after all.  Unsurprisingly, Andy was not shy about letting him know when he was ‘being gross.’  He retaliated by letting her know when she was ‘not being gross enough.’  That nearly ended things right then and there, but they were able to laugh it off.  They were never going to do this again, after all.  They didn’t have to take it too seriously.  In the end, they had both learned a thing or two and enjoyed themselves, which was their goal all along.

He collected Junko’s stuffed bunny rabbit, then walked Andy over to the ring toss booth to pick out her goldfish.  She chose one that was all black, with creepy googly eyes and a permanent frown.  Y’know what?  It suited her.  

“What’re you going to name it?” he asked as they went into a nearby store that they were told sold goldfish stuff.

“It’s a fish, it doesn’t need a name.”

“Aww, come on, every pet needs a name!  Wait, I’ve got it!  Gillbert.  With two L’s.  Get it?”

She snorted, shaking her head.  He watched her pick out a twenty-gallon tank, which he thought seemed a little excessive for one goldfish, but she insisted.  The store clerk agreed with her, saying that the type of goldfish she had chosen was larger than your average goldfish and needed extra space.  Andy had given him such a smug look at that.  She picked out purple and black gravel to line the tank, several scraggly-looking fake plants, and a haunted castle ornament big enough for the fish to hide inside.  A tank filter, aquarium maintenance kit, and fish food soon joined the pile.

“All this for a fish that’s gonna be dead in a week?”

She shrugged.  “Might as well make it the best week of its life.”

“Are you going to be able to carry all that?” “I’ll manage.”

Loaded up with bags, she led him back outside.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your ship?” he asked her.

She shook her head.  “I’ll be okay on my own.”

There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other.  He put down the stuffed bunny and gestured for her to do the same with her bags.  Once their hands were free, he stepped forward and gave her a hug.  

“Today was fun.  I’m not gonna forget it,” he told her.

“Me neither,” she said, hugging him back.  They both took a step back when he let go.  “Well, have a nice life,” she told him, which made him laugh.

“You, too,” he said.  Picking up the stuffed animal, he made his way back to the Condor.

~*~*~

Cyclonis watched Felix walk away.  When he was out of sight, two of her plain-clothes Talons materialized from wherever it was they had been lurking.  She picked up Gillbert while the Talons gathered the rest of her bags and followed her back to their ship.  

She was all too aware that they had seen everything that had transpired between her and Felix that day.  That was confirmed when she noticed that one of them couldn’t quite hide the way the corners of his mouth twitched up every time he glanced at her.  A pointed look from her sobered him right up.

“You will not breathe a word about today to anyone,” she commanded.

“Of course, Master,” they said in unison.

~*~*~

“Have a fun night?” Aerrow asked as Finn sauntered into the room with a grin he just couldn’t shake.

“You know it!  Where’s Junko?”

“In the engine room with Radarr.”

Shooting him a thumbs up, he headed to the engine room.  “Junko, buddy, got you something,” he said as he handed off the gigantic rabbit.

“Aww, thanks, Finn!  You didn’t have to do that!”

“I know, but I felt bad you’ve been cooped up here all day.  Anyway, I’m beat.  Gonna head to bed.  G’night.”

“Night!” 

“G’night, Radarr.”

Instead of wishing him a good night, Radarr sniffed at the air, looking a little confused.  Shrugging it off, he headed for his room.  Surprisingly, Radarr followed.

“Uh, you okay?” he asked the little guy as Radarr barged into his room right on his heels.  There was no answer as Radarr scaled him like he was a tree, sniffing at him carefully.  Suddenly, Radarr squawked, his hackles rising as he leapt back down to the floor, chittering and pointing accusingly at him.

“Whoa, slow down.  What’s the problem?”

Radarr pointed to him again.

“I….”

Radarr nodded, then dramatically mimed sniffing, looking disgruntled.

“I smell?  Gee, thanks, Radarr.  Listen, I’m too tired to shower right now.  I’ll be sure to do that first thing in the morning.”

Self-consciously, he sniffed himself, just to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.  He didn’t smell anything.

Radarr shook his head, stomping his foot.  

“I don’t smell?”

Radarr made a so-so gesture.  How was he supposed to interpret that?

“I kinda smell?”

Another head shake.

“I smell like something?”

Radarr nodded emphatically.

“Okay?  Oh, wait!  I smell like someone?” he guessed.  Another nod.  “Okay, listen, I kinda met someone today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell any of the guys.  It didn’t…well, it’s not going to work out.”

Radarr smacked his forehead, then really started carrying on.  He had no idea what Radarr was saying, but he knew a lecture when he heard one.

“Seriously, what is your problem?  I hung out with a girl.  It’s not a big deal.”

Radarr was growing more frustrated by the second.  Finally, he put his hands up to his shoulders, fingers pointing upward.

“Feathers?”

Radarr rolled his eyes and tried something else, rubbing his hands together menacingly while doing a pretty good job imitating sinister laughter.

“Evil villain?”

Radarr touched his nose.

“Radarr, I don’t….” he trailed off as what Radarr was trying to tell him hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Dude….”

Radarr chirped yes.

“Dude, no!”

Radarr chirped yes again.

Suddenly, so much about Andy made sense.  And didn’t make sense!  How could he have spent the entire day with Cyclonis and not know it?  How could he have spent the entire day with Cyclonis and have fun?  

His knees went weak, and he sat down hard on his bed.  He had made out with her!  It was too much.  This was all too much.

“I need to lie down,” he told Radarr, who by now looked more concerned than angry.  “Please, Radarr, just keep this to yourself.  I didn’t know!”

Radarr sighed and waved a hand like, ‘Fine, they won’t hear about it from me.’  Then he awkwardly patted him on the knee before leaving the room.

Finn stared at the ceiling, way too many thoughts swirling through his head.  Well, he had told Andy…Cyclonis…that this had been a day he’d never forget.  And he sure as heck wasn’t going to forget it now!

He wondered if she had known who he really was and decided she hadn’t.  She wasn’t that good an actor.  And she hadn’t tried to recruit him to her cause or anything.  And if there had been any Cyclonian attacks anywhere, Aerrow would have told him, so this hadn’t been some elaborate plot to keep them distracted.  So, what?  She had come here in disguise to have a fun day out?  And had been as clueless about his identity as he had been about hers?

He grinned a little.  Oh, he was so going to use this the next time they came up against her.  He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he did.  If he had to live with this knowledge, then he was damn sure going to make sure that she had to live with it, too.

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐀𝐕𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐀

❝ Avi had been a vampire since the early 1800s, when he had nearly died from fever and the man whom he had been working for as a house servant had taken pity on this poor, orphaned young man and made the decision to grant him immortality. When he had awakened from what he had thought had been his fevered death throes, Avi had been amazed to discover that he was now supernaturally fast and strong, had a fierce desire for blood, and even more amazingly, had the ability to force people to tell him the truth simply by looking them in the eye and asking them to.

For many years, Avi lived in peace with his old master, moving around constantly so as to avoid detection by humans and feasting on the world’s less savoury characters when they needed food… until the Volturi found them. Apparently, the man Avi had come to regard as a father had had some previous dealings with “children of the moon,” as the black-cloaked vampires called them, and so he was murdered right in front of Avi, torn apart and set ablaze as one of the stronger Volturi held him back, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle his cries.

They had been planning on killing Avi, as well, finding him guilty by association, but, desperate to survive, Avi showed them his gift and insisted that he could be useful to them. It seemed Aro, the leader of the Volturi, agreed, because three days after being brought back to the Volturi’s home in Italy to show off before the powerful vampires, Avi had been given a cloak of his own and made into a member of the Volturi Guard.

And while being useful to the Volturi may have been the key to Avi’s survival, he hated it - hated being forced to slaughter others of his kind the way his master had been slaughtered, hated how he was forced to live among such constant tension and distrust. He had broken Chelsea’s spell of loyalty long ago, his own ability to gain the truth helping him remain aware of his true feelings about the Volturi, so he had no true reason to remain in this prison except fear - fear that the Volturi would never let him go, fear that they would kill him if he ever tried to leave.

But for a short while, he had managed to leave. Fleeing from the Volturi headquarters in the middle of the day, a hood securely over his head to disguise his glittering skin, Avi had sought out a vampire coven who would be willing to take in a runaway. He had found the Olympic Coven, a relatively small family of vegetarian vampires who had just moved away from their former home in Washington. Despite resistance from some of his adoptive children, Carlisle, the leader of the coven, agreed to take Avi in, recognizing the desperation to get away from the Volturi he himself had felt so long ago.

While staying with the Cullens, Avi developed a deep bond with their newest member, Emmett. Though the feelings between the two went unsaid for a good while, they were deeply drawn to each other, and even shared a heartfelt kiss the night before Avi made the heartbreaking decision to leave and go back to Italy.

Because he did leave. He did not want to, but he felt as though he had to. Adjusting to animal blood after feasting on humans for so long was a painful struggle, and on top of that, he had never truly felt accepted by any of the Cullens except for Emmett and Carlisle. He did not belong with them; he was intruding on their peaceful lives simply by being there. He would be better off returning to the Volturi, where he would be miserable but at least useful and wanted, and doing his best to forget about Emmett Cullen and how he had never been as happy as he was when he had been with him.

Despite the circumstances of his departure, Aro had welcomed Avi back to the Guard with open arms; his power made him too valuable to do otherwise. So now, several decades later, Avi is still a Volturi Guard, hating himself for every vampire he kills and unable to stop longing for the one many miles away, the one with dark hair and a smile that looks breathtaking in the moonlight.

But all of a sudden, with Emmett’s brother having fallen in love with a human and the Volturi pushing ever harder to get Edward and his sister to join them, it seems that Avi might have a chance to return to the love of his life. But after everything, he isn’t quite sure that Emmett will want him back… or that any of them will survive the coming battle. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski, @luucypevensie, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @ocappreciationtag.

[nebulousnajm]

“in a snowglobe” – a scarabedo fic

G rating - 2,979 words. ao3 link at the end.

Summary: Scaramouche convinces Albedo to go to the festival he's been wanting to visit for years but has never had the time for. Banter, disguises, a bit of introspection, and fluff ensue.

––

The winter holidays are usually meant to be a carefree and joyful time, but for Albedo it's one of the most stressful times of the year. Which is saying a lot, considering that there are many things that regularly stress him out.

Dropping temperatures and decreasing hours of daylight make the residents of Mondstadt slow and more predisposed to curling up beside the hearth with a spiced hot drink, and for all the knights’ attitude and posturing, they’re no different. It leaves Albedo to pick up the slack his lab team leaves behind in favor of less demanding activities, and while he doesn’t mind, it’s not something he’s exactly grateful for.

He’s always thanked profusely after the frost melts and the sun-adoring flowers open their petals for longer, but a bitter voice in his head (that Albedo tries his best to keep quiet) tells him that gratefulness won’t bring back the lost time he could have used to do the winter-exclusive things he actually wants to do.

Like following through on his promise to Klee of building a snowman together. Or trying the hot chocolate drink that Angel’s Share only serves during the holiday season. Or conducting his environmental experiments that need cooler temperatures. Or painting the Mondstadt square when it's dusted with snow and the fountain has frozen over. Or or or. The list is endless and Albedo stops himself from dwelling on it further as it will only worsen his mood.

Still, it’s hard not to when the cheery and festive sounds of the Knights of Favonius’ fundraising festival are carried over to him by the wind, as if taunting him. He’s on the base of the mountain to collect some samples he needs, and he can easily spot the stalls and ice rink set up across the river, reminding him of yet another thing he wants to do but can’t. Sighing and shaking his head, Albedo quickly identifies and gathers what he needs, and swiftly makes the return trip back to his camp.

He’s so caught up in quieting his thoughts that he doesn’t even take note of his visitor standing by the easel.

The visitor watches in silent amusement as Albedo deposits the items in his arms on his already-cluttered desk, muttering to himself something indiscernible but no doubt about what he plans to do with everything in front of him.

But something makes the visitor pause. Though Albedo’s face is the calm pond it usually is, today, its placid surface belies a disturbance beneath. There is the slightest frown pulling at his lips and eyebrows, and his movements are snappy and impatient rather than methodical and unhurried.

“So who pissed you off today?”

Albedo almost messes up his writing and whips his head up towards the source of the voice, shoulders tense.

He immediately relaxes upon recognizing who it is, even if a voice in his head tells him that he really shouldn’t have that reaction towards this specific individual.

“Scaramouche,” he greets with a relieved laugh. “How long have you been there?”

Humming in faux contemplation he says, “not long, but long enough to notice that something has disturbed your peace.”

You and your theatrics, he thinks, not unkindly.

“You picked up on that fast.” Albedo hasn’t yet mastered reading Scaramouche the way the other has for him.

“Resentment is an old friend I’d recognize anywhere.”

“Always so dramatic,” he remarks, maybe fondly.

It occurs to Albedo that it is probably a testament to whatever strange and likely unwise thing he shares with the (ex?) harbinger that the latter didn’t immediately glare at him for the comment.

“‘Resentment’ is a strong word for it but…” he trails off with a sigh. How can he put this kindly.

As Albedo is thinking, Scaramouche approaches the desk, pushes a few things aside, and lifts himself to sit on it.

“Have you ever said anything without thinking a hundred times about it?” He asks teasingly.

Raising an eyebrow, he returns, “of course I have, but you clearly have more experience.”

Scaramouche sticks his tongue out at him and turns his head away, but stays silent while Albedo puts his thoughts together.

“The holiday season is when my lab team… does the least amount of work even though we still have the same deadlines to meet, so I end up completing their work for them. My assistant always offers to help, but I don’t want to burden her. I don’t mind it per se, but it leaves me little to no time for my own leisure.”

Looking outside, he sighs. “Take today for example. I’d like to visit the small fundraising festival that the knights set up for the week, but I’m too busy.”

When Scaramouche remains silent for a too-long moment, Albedo turns to him only to find that he’s staring at Albedo with an unreadable expression on his face.

He’s about to ask if he said something strange when Scaramouche says, “just go now.”

Albedo stares at him in return. “I just told you I’m too busy.”

Shrugging, he simply says, “aren’t you busy all year? I’m sure you can leave this paperwork for an hour or two.”

I guess that’s technically true, he considers, surveying the work on his desk. But while he can leave the paperwork for a while… “Sure, but where would you go? I wouldn’t want to just leave you here.”

Mischief stretches a smile on Scaramouche’s face. “Who said anything about leaving me? I’m coming with you.”

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Are you sure?”

He tilts his head. “Well if it’s caught your eye then it must hold something interesting.”

“It’s a very human festivity, and you don’t tend to like humans,” Albedo reminds him.

“Leave the conclusion for me to reach.”

He hums, turning the idea in his mind. He’s not opposed to it –quite the contrary actually– but it does raise a problem.

“Then we’ll need to disguise ourselves. All the people there know me and you’re not exactly inconspicuous.”

Scaramouche looks around the camp. “I don’t see a closet anywhere. What’s your plan.”

“You’ll definitely have to leave your hat behind,” he starts as he makes his way towards a wooden chest tucked in the back. “And while I don’t have a closet, I do have something useful.”

Albedo opens the seldom-touched chest and finds the neatly folded coats, sweaters, and scarves right where he left them. He takes out a black, light coat and a purple scarf for Scaramouche, and a white turtle-necked sweater for himself.

Scaramouche inspects the chest’s contents over Albedo’s shoulder. “Why do you even have all this stuff? I know you don’t get cold.”

Turning to hand him the coat and scarf, he says, “Yes. You know that, but not the knights; I need something to fool them. And most of the time they need an extra layer anyway because they’re the ones not dressed appropriately for the climate.”

He scoffs at the second part. “Why does that not surprise me.”

It draws a quiet laugh out of Albedo as he goes to leave his short-sleeved jacket on the desk chair and pull on the sweater. The knights have good intentions –most of the time– but they do have their short-sighted moments.

An idea occurs to him. He takes out the tie holding his braids together and works the hair loose before tying it back into a small ponytail. He figures that everyone has seen him with the braids often enough that they won’t expect to see him without them.

Glancing at Scaramouche, he finds that he’s propped up his hat against the wall and put on the coat and buttoned it all the way, but the scarf lies forgotten in his hands as he stares at Albedo for a reason he can’t fathom.

He takes advantage of this distraction to approach him, take the scarf from his unprotesting hands, and wrap it snugly around his neck. Stepping back, Albedo surveys the disguise he’s chosen for him and decides that it’ll do. All fatui imagery is hidden away and people tend not to recognize someone if they’re not at all expecting them to be there.

Scaramouche gathers enough of what he lost to say, “I look ridiculous.” His voice is slightly muffled by the scarf covering his mouth.

Albedo can’t help but smile. He looks unthreatening and dare he say cute like this. “Maybe. But no one expects the Balladeer to be dressed like this, so I believe it will work.”

“You better be right.” He hears him mumble as they exit the camp and make their way towards the foot of the mountain. This is going to be interesting.

~

Strangely enough, it seems like Scaramouche doesn’t hate the festival. – much to Albedo’s surprise.

After paying the entry fee, they decided to walk around first before picking something to do. Albedo knew he wanted to go to the ice rink, but not immediately.

Sticking close to his side, Scaramouche’s eyes are narrowed at almost everything, but if Albedo is reading him right, then there might be curiosity glinting in them too.

It’s hard not to be drawn to the atmosphere after all. Jewel toned tents sprout like blooms from the snow-covered earth; children weave between them and the seating areas with frost kissed cheeks; and a certain joy seems to emanate from the strategically placed braziers, which upon closer inspection, he realizes are actually contained pyro seelies.

It’s difficult to find something derogatory to say about any of it – until he spots three of his lab team members huddled over a table with coffee cups on it and a card game laid out.

“Ah. Of course they’re here.” They seem to be in the middle of their game, completely absorbed and ignorant of the world around them (including the work they left behind).

His companion follows his line of sight. “Are those the assholes that dumped their work on you?”

He suppresses a smile. “I wouldn't say that exactly... But yes.”

“I’ll say it for you then.”

“Is your work ethic this strong all the time?”

“There’s no room for being lazy with the Tsaritsa; she’d have your head for it,” he wears a cryptic smile, “or worse.”

Albedo raises his eyebrow at the comment but doesn’t say anything, though he mentally files it away for later. It wouldn’t be smart to discuss this in such a place anyway.

His gaze returns to the outdoor cafe that his unsuspecting team members are sitting at, and is pleasantly surprised to see that it belongs to the Angel’s Share. Maybe he’ll get to try out that hot chocolate after all.

“How do you feel about hot chocolate,” he asks Scaramouche while looking at the queue. They’ve caught it in a rare lull, so it shouldn’t take long to order at all.

“It’s not bad,” he answers with suspicion clear in his voice. “I prefer it when they use dark chocolate.”

Albedo glances back at him. “‘Not bad’ is high praise coming from you. Let’s go see if they have that.”

Seven minutes later, they’re leaning by the fence bordering the festival and sipping their drinks (an extra sweetened hot chocolate for Albedo and a dark chocolate one for Scaramouche). They have a decent view of the entire place from here.

Chancing a glance beside him, he finds Scaramouche lost in thought with both hands holding his cup.

Albedo can’t contain his curiosity any longer. “So what do you think of the festival so far?”

Scaramouche looks at him before sweeping his gaze once more across the grounds.

“It’s not torture… but I don’t get it. What are all of these fools so happy about? It’s just snow and cold and food they can eat at any time. Why do they restrict these things for themselves to this specific time of year?”

He remembers wondering the same thing a few years ago, and smiles at the thought. “The cold of the winter months tends to draw people to sources of warmth, both literally and figuratively. They huddle around fireplaces and campfires with family and friends, and pass the time with things they’ve delegated to the holidays.”

Meeting Scaramouche’s eyes, he continues. “Sure they can eat Honey Moon Pies, Pumpkin Soup, and have hot chocolate at any time, but by only having them in winter, they bring a unique joy that makes people look forward to this time of year. It can keep them going.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot.” A begrudging fascination peeks between his words.

“Yes; humans are very complex, but also deceptively simple at times.”

“And it doesn’t make you feel isolated?”

“Why would it?”

Scaramouche’s expression goes deadpan and he pointedly looks at where his diamond birthmark would be, were it not purposefully hidden behind his sweater’s collar.

“Mondstadt doesn’t care about what or who you are. As long as you are in its borders, you are a child of the wind. Barbatos is very accepting in that manner.” As long as you are not a threat to his people, that is , he adds to himself in his head.

He only gets a hum in return, though he doesn’t move away as they continue to drink their beverages in comfortable silence. Albedo gives him the time to consider their conversation; he’s rarely seen Scaramouche so contemplative.

After a few minutes, he turns his head ever so slightly and stills at the soft smile on Scaramouche’s lips and the bittersweet melancholia in his eyes. It’s a world’s difference compared to the fury and resentment he so often holds on to.

He’s looking at something a small distance away, and he follows his line of sight to a slightly older child helping what seems to be his younger brother build a snowman.

Never had Albedo wished he had his sketchbook on him more; he feels a need to preserve this precious moment of peace, if only to remind its subject that it is possible to achieve.

Scaramouche blinks and the moment ends. Catching Albedo staring at him, he raises an eyebrow.

Panicking, he remembers his primary reason for wanting to visit the festival in the first place. “Do you want to go ice skating?” At least the rink is big enough that they can stay relatively undisturbed.

“Do we have to?” Scaramouche asks, wary.

“No, of course or not, but–” Scaramouche's expression gives him pause.

He tilts his head with an amused smile. “Have you never ice skated before?”

When he looks away with indigence, Albedo thinks he may be better at reading him than he thought. “No. Why would I have.”

Humming, he says “I guessed that maybe you’d have some experience from Snezhnaya since it's freezing for all but one month of the year there.”

“As if the hag ever allowed me a moment of peace,” he scoffs.

Referring to the Tsaritsa as “the hag” is certainly something, but he’ll just have to file that away for later as well.

“It’s not too difficult, I’ll help you on the ice too.”

Scaramouche narrows his eyes at him. “I can learn to skate by myself, thank you very much.”

Albedo shrugs and keeps his smile to himself, knowing what comes next. “If you say so.”

~

Scaramouche has Albedo’s forearms in a death grip.

“I swear if you let go–” He’s faintly wobbling and focusing on the ice beneath them like it’ll tell him the meaning of life.

Laughing, he says “I won't, don't worry. And I couldn't even if I wanted to.”

As soon as their skates hit the rink, Scaramouche fully comprehended just how out of his depth he was. He had immediately latched onto Albedo’s arm next to him as he tried to balance, and didn’t protest when Albedo moved in front of him to take hold of his other arm and guide him around the rink.

“You said this wouldn’t be ‘too difficult.’” Scaramouche remarks, almost affronted.

“Is it?”

He glances up at him for a fraction of a second, “This is like learning how to walk all over again.”

“Most people don’t remember that” but then again…

“I thought we established that both of us aren’t ‘most people.’”

“Hm. We can do something else if you want,” he points out.

Albedo thinks he probably imagined the slight tightening of Scaramouche’s hold on his arms. “No. This is fine.”

His balance becomes noticeably more stable the more minutes they spend on the ice. The speed of his progress is surprising, but maybe it shouldn’t be, considering everything.

It’s almost peaceful like this. Not many people are on the rink, and faint laughter and carefree chatter tangle with the snowflakes in the air and float over to them on the wind.

Eventually, with Scaramouche’s improving balance, his hold on Albedo loosens but doesn’t relinquish. When he skates without any mishaps for a little while, Albedo loosens his own grip and starts moving away.

But when their hands make contact, Scaramouche holds onto them and doesn’t let go.

Blinking in surprise, Albedo looks up to find him staring at their joined hands as if he, too, is caught off guard by his own action.

A quiet laugh escapes him and Albedo squeezes his hands before pulling him along slightly faster, which causes Scaramouche to hold on tighter to stay upright – but it draws a laugh out of him too.

The whole evening had felt surreal, but this, especially, feels like a moment they’d have in a universe where they weren’t what they are and where everything didn’t seem to inevitably lead them away from each other. And yet here they are, holding hands and skating serenely.

Well, as serenely as they can with Scaramouche still almost losing his balance every now and then. But Albedo doesn’t mind; he knows that with patience and time, all things eventually come into fruition.

––

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43556802