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mandiemon3 · 9 months ago

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The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 29

After the ordeal with the allegedly cursed suit, the crew held a new respect for their captain. Izzy was not immune to this, finally starting to see beyond the fancy suits and words that the former aristocrat loved so dearly to catch a glimpse of the kindhearted man behind it all. The two spent many hours together, Izzy slowly coaching the captain on how to be a proper pirate, teaching him the skills that any other person would have at least made an effort to learn before ever stepping foot on a ship. On the days when he grew too exasperated, annoyed by Stede’s lack of what he deemed common sense survival instincts, he passed the ropes to his partner, letting them try their own form of teaching. They did their best to help, teaching their eager friend the basics of hand-to-hand combat and knife throwing, and gently correcting the simple knots that Izzy had him working on. On days when even they were too agitated to help, Jim was eager to step up to relieve some pressure, showing the captain move after move that could help him, doing their best to keep it simple.

Before too long, Stede began to get his footing. He still had quite a while to go, but he was becoming quicker on his feet, more likely to choose action in the face of danger than to flail and hide the way he would have initially. As the captain improved, the rest of the crew became fascinated, each drawn to the new skills he began to exhibit. It was only a few days before Roach took the opportunity to ask Mo if they thought they could convince Izzy to give him shooting lessons. Mo had grinned as they looked up from the thick dough they were helping to poke holes in, promising the cook to check with their partner. They added fondly that Izzy had yet to say no to them yet, laughing as Roach ruffled their hair, lightly dusting them with flour in the process.

“So I have a good chance then?” he asked, giving them a wide grin.

Mo chuckled, unable to stop themselves from smiling softly. “I’d say so.” They pretended not to notice the way Roach watched them, a curious expression on his face as they went back to work, unable to wipe away their smile.

Izzy was relieved at the interest the crew showed, finally starting to pick up basic survival skills, but was weary to take on any more pupils. The toll of teaching Stede, in addition to his usual first mate duties and overseeing the repairs done on the ship, was already more than most could handle. Even the dedicated sailor, devoted whole heartedly to his work, was beginning to buckle under the pressure, slowed down by his still healing amputation wound and the damage from his time serving under Blackbeard. He was apprehensive when Mo gently suggested he train only them and Stede, reminding him gently that he had to look after himself in order to be able to help everyone else. They offered to help guide the rest of the crew through lessons, repeating only what they were sure they had learned properly under his guidance.

“We should be able to get everyone up to my level at least,” they said tentatively. “They’d still need help down the line, but it’ll at least get the ball rolling, and take some of the burden off of you.” They chuckled weakly, giving him a small smile. “It’d also make it easier if you didn’t have to go around, fixing things they’ve messed up during the day.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Izzy insisted, his brow set as he frowned, his gaze lowered.

Mo sighed. “Love, let me help you. Please,” they added, giving him a pleading look. They reached out, gently squeezing his arm.

Izzy sighed, looking away. He looked so tired, his shoulders drooping and his eyes hazy, worn down from all of the responsibility weighing on his shoulders. Mo knew that they had to do something, find some way to lessen his load, but the damn man was so stubborn.

“I get it if you don’t think I’d be a good teacher-“ they began.

“It’s not that,” Izzy interrupted gruffly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’d be fine,” he continued, his voice softer as he looked at them. He looked like he could fall over soon, relying on too many mugs of coffee to count to get him through the day. “You certainly know more about fighting than most of them. You just…It’s my responsibility,” he said after a moment’s consideration, his gaze faltering. “I’m first mate. It’s my job to get them all in fighting shape. You don’t…You shouldn’t have to.”

Mo frowned. “You know that’s not how things work around here, Iz,” they said gently, crossing their arms over their chest as they leaned forward, trying to catch his eye. “We’re a team, my love. All of us,” they said, gesturing around them, “but also us. Me and you, together. Baby, you’re tired, and overworked, and I can help.”

Izzy heaved a great sigh, examining them closely as he frowned. “You sure you don’t mind?” he asked uncertainly. His worry showed in the crinkles around his wide eyes, hazy with exhaustion, not wanting to ask more of them than they were capable of.

Mo nodded firmly. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

Izzy jutted his jaw out as he thought, scowling to himself. “Fine,” he said after a moment, clearly not thrilled at accepting help. He heaved another heavy sigh, giving them a concerned look. “But I want you to tell me if it gets to be too much. Can’t have you burning yourself out trying to teach these twats to fight.”

“I promise, Israel.” They stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek and chuckling as he wrapped his arms around them, holding them close. They snaked their arms behind his neck, content to rest against him.

“I mean it,” he continued, looking out over the rolling waves, his chin resting on their head. “Don’t put yourself through more than you can handle, for them or for me.”

Mo hummed noncommittally. Izzy gave an exaggerated sigh, dipping his head to press a kiss to their forehead.

“You’re a stubborn bastard, you know that?” he said, smiling softly to himself.

They hummed again, not bothering to lift their head. “Takes one to know one, my love.”

Training the crew was interesting, to say the least. Mo decided to start with the most basic fighting skills, teaching pairs of two at a time how to strike and block in a fistfight without hurting themselves. Most took to fighting fairly easily, drawing on previous experience, something few were lucky enough to lack. Only Olu, Lucius, and Wee John were truly starting from square one. Olu had always been able to talk his way out of violent situations, his natural charm and nonthreatening demeanor helping him to win over anyone who might do him harm. Lucius, poor young man, had seen his share of violence, and had been the target of it more than once, but was always able to outthink his enemies. John, big softie that he was, had never had to properly fight, they were surprised to learn. His main tactic had always been to stand up, using his immense height and size to intimidate any threats, and, if absolutely necessary, whack anyone he thought might be a threat over the head, able to knock them out cold with one blow.

He shared privately with Mo, pulling them aside as he ducked down to whisper to them, that he never was a good fighter. He fiddled with his hands anxiously as he spoke, giving them a bashful smile when they clapped his back, saying that they could always choose to focus on knife work or some other projectile if it bothered him, but that with his strength, all they’d really need to work on was his balance and defensive skills. Any blow from him would be enough to seriously hurt anyone he felt was a threat, they just needed to fine tune his precision. They promised to keep his insecurities between them, adding with a chuckle that they’d never out someone kind enough to make them a blanket. Wee John laughed, pointing out that not only was he making a blanket for them, but one big enough for two, earning him twice the loyalty.

Slowly, day by day and night by night, the crew began to learn. Those who were not upkeeping the ship or manning the wheel during the day would find themselves with Mo, miming the actions of a fight under their instruction. Once they had all learned the basic footwork needed to evade a blow, and the basics of how to land a punch without breaking their thumb or hurting their wrist, Mo partnered them up and gave them the go ahead to begin letting their blows land. They made sure to emphasize that no one was to use their full weight in a swing, and to avoid each other’s faces as much as could be helped. Roach in particular needed a reminder to hold back, finding it all too easy to slip into the rhythm of the fight and push his friends a bit too far, though he was quick to apologize and help them up if he hurt them more than necessary.

By the end of the week, everyone was showing marked improvements, much to Stede’s excitement. He was thrilled to see his crew throwing themselves into self-improvement with such zeal. Izzy mentioned to Mo more than once how often Stede spoke about the pride he felt for the crew, an emotion he showed on full display, complimenting everyone on how quickly their skills were coming along, and proudly declaring that they’d be the most fearsome crew on all the seven seas if they kept up the good work.

Izzy rolled his eyes as he pulled his partner away from the crew one day, lowering his voice conspiratorially to tell them of the captain’s “ridiculous” idea to name a Pirate of the Week to honor whoever had most improved that week.

Mo grinned, taking Izzy’s hand as they stood together at the bow of the ship.

“I actually think it’s a good idea,” they admitted, facing their partner.

Izzy huffed a small laugh, shaking his head softly. “You would.”

Mo laughed. “And what does that mean, Iz?” they asked, squinting at him suspiciously, unable to hide their grin.

He shrugged. “Positive reinforcement,” he drawled, shifting slightly closer as he looked down at them, his gloved thumb running over the back of their hand. “It’s classic you, darling.” Mo smiled. “Well, there’s a bit more to it than that,” they said, their heart thumping loudly in their chest. How could Izzy still have such an effect on them after so long together, they wondered, secretly hoping it would never change. “Not only is the recognition good for whoever wins every week, but it riles them all up. Plays on their competitiveness to get them to stay focused.” They grinned. “Don’t think I need to tell you how long it usually takes these guys to lose interest in something,” they joked, nudging him gently.

Izzy shook his head, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind their ear. “Usually they’ve moved on before they’ve finished their task,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. He sighed softly. “Just because it’s ridiculous doesn’t mean it won’t work,” he conceded, rolling his eyes halfheartedly as they grinned.

“There you go, my love! I knew you’d come around to us one day!” They stepped forward, giving him a short kiss. He’d warmed up to the idea of showing affection in front of the crew, but they were still cautious, not wanting to push too far and overwhelm him.

Izzy gave a small smile as they pulled back.

“Hard not to, when they mean so much to you,” he said quietly. He cleared his throat gently. “Besides, just because they’re idiots doesn't mean they’re bad fellows.”

Mo chuckled, cupping his face as he smirked. “Don’t know if you’ll ever admit to it, but you like them, and we both know it.” They grinned, their thumb trailed across his cheek, running over the small tattoo under his eye. “What am I going to do with you, Israel?”

Izzy smirked, leaning down to kiss their cheek. “Whatever it is, it should wait until we’re back in our cabin.” He chuckled as Mo blushed, gently tipping their chin up with his thumb and index finger as he leaned down to kiss them. This wasn’t one of the usual kisses he gave them on deck, a chaste peck when they were at risk of being observed. This was a true kiss, the kind that made the world feel like it fell away under their feet, like all that was left and all that was important was Izzy.

Mo was left flustered as he pulled away, grinning down at them, looking very pleased with himself. They floundered for words, trying hard to find their footing and not show how affected they were.

“You…You dick!” they said eventually, their voice hushed as they gently shoved against his chest. “How are you doing to kiss me like that and then leave me here, forced to do actual work now that you’ve put that in my mind?” They chuckled as he laughed, pulling them closer and cupping their cheek to kiss them again. This kiss was soft and sweet, both lovers still chuckling at the others’ antics as they held onto each other.

Izzy rested his forehead against theirs as they separated. “Forgive me yet?” he asked quietly, a small smile flickering across his face.

Mo huffed, earning a small chuckle from their partner. “Yeah,” they said quietly, almost meekly. “Mostly, at least. But,” they warned, their squinted eyes darting up to meet his, “I’ll be getting you back for this.”

Izzy grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “That a promise?” he asked, his voice low and rough as he whispered.

They nodded, bringing a hand up to cup his face and smiling as he leaned into it. They leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss to his neck, tangling a hand in his hair as his pulse quickened against their lips.

“You tease,” he rasped, holding onto the base of their neck as they kissed along his neck. Mo hummed, the vibration against his sensitive skin making him shiver.

“You started it,” they reminded him smugly. They nipped at his neck, chuckling as he hissed, his grip on their shoulders tightening.

“Nice as this is,” he stammered, “this is a bit public, don’t you think?”

Mo pulled back, taking only a moment to enjoy the sight of him, all disheveled from their own doing, before pulling him down to kiss him. They smirked as they pulled away, proudly examining their work. Izzy’s face was dusted with a light pink, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He breathed heavily as they trailed their fingers over his neck, their thumb gliding over his exposed throat, their touch as light as a feather.

“Do you want me to stop?” they asked quietly, studying his expression. His brow furrowed, his eyes conflicted as he tried to speak.

“Not exactly,” he said, his voice coming out rough. He looked at them hesitantly, as though he was afraid of what he might find. Fear, disgust, and shame were things he had come to expect. Instead, he found a small smile, his partner’s hand moving from his neck to push the hair out of his face.

“We can stop, Israel,” they said softly, their hand moving to his face, their thumb trailing over his cheek as they spoke. “Whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do.” They leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, resting their head against his shoulder as they pulled back, their arms wrapped behind his neck.

Izzy moved his hands up their back, holding them closer. “Not on deck,” he said, his gravelly voice hushed. “But…maybe tonight.”

Mo raised their head, almost bumping into his nose as they squinted up at him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?"

Izzy swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I…I think I am.” He took a deep breath. “I’m ready,” he said, smiling as he leaned down to kiss them once more. He chuckled as they parted. “It’s been long enough, darling. And I…” He cleared his throat, cupping their cheek as he looked at them, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I’m not afraid anymore. Got no reason to be, not with you.” He pressed a kiss to their forehead, chuckling as they giggled.

Mo grinned, tucking their head under his chin, relishing the way he ran his hand up and down their back, one arm slung around their waist to keep them close. They felt their heart could melt, feeling the steady beating of his heart against their ear. Even if it did, they knew they’d be safe. Izzy would protect them, like he always did.

“I’ve also missed seeing you naked,” he added with a sly grin, laughing as his partner gave his chest a scolding slap, barely able to suppress their own chuckle.

“You dirty dog,” they teased, not bothering to lift their head, still pressed against him as he shook with laughter. “You’re as bad as Lucius.”

Izzy scoffed. “No, my love,” he said, his voice laced with humor as he gently tilted their chin to look up at him. “Lucius wouldn’t have stopped if he found himself being seduced on deck.” He smirked, his eyes glinting as they grinned up at him. “I’m a real gentleman in comparison.”

Mo laughed. “Yeah, what a saint you are,” they said sarcastically, rolling their eyes. “You can’t fool me, Israel.” They smirked, lightly tugging the knot of his tie, careful of his ring as they pulled him down, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “You forget,” they said quietly, standing on their toes to whisper in his ear, “I know all your dirty little secrets. Been there for most of them, too,” they added, grinning as he blushed. They gave him a quick kiss on his reddened cheek before sinking back onto their heels, chuckling as he straightened his vest, glancing around to make sure no one could see his disheveled state.

“Relax, my love,” Mo soothed, carefully straightening his tie and smoothing his collar. “No one cares if we kiss.” They laughed, his hands coming to rest on their hips as they adjusted his ring so it faced forward, the stone catching the light from the bright sun. “Think everyone would agree you deserve a few minutes off,” they said, smiling up at him. They rested their hands against his chest as they finished, finding themselves captivated by his dark eyes. They could spend the rest of their life looking at him without complaint, doing their best to memorize every curve of his cheek, every wrinkle creasing his handsome face. They hoped they’d have enough time together for them to know the story behind each and every one.

“I don’t care if they see us kissing,” Izzy said calmly, meeting their gaze levelly. “They can be green with envy that they’re missing out on you,” he continued, a smile flickering across his face as his thumb ran over their jaw. “Doesn’t mean they should see me in a state of…frustration,” he said delicately, a sly grin creeping across his face.

Mo chuckled, letting their hands run over his chest to hold onto his broad shoulders. “Ah, well, we’ll see what we can do about relieving some of that frustration,” they said, smirking back up at him.

Izzy grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I trust I’ll be in good hands.”

Mo nodded. “Very good hands.”

As the days passed, the crew slowly improving their fighting skills and Stede continuing his lessons with Izzy, a new sense of camaraderie began to form between those onboard. Izzy no longer stayed off to the side as the crew worked, but moved around them, talking with them and offering direction when needed. He ate with the crew at meal times, sitting with Mo and Frenchie, often joined by Fang and Jim when they weren’t busy with their own business. Everyone had a newfound respect for the first mate, seeming to realize for the first time what a skilled pirate he actually was. It helped that he no longer snapped orders at them, instead taking the time to explain to them why their work was so important and needed doing, even if he grit his teeth as he did it or rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Mo was also able to help curb some of the more irresponsible behavior that might have once gone unchecked, doing their best to encourage their partner’s bonding, though the odd bunch of pirates all began to treat their jobs more seriously now that they didn’t have the safety net of Stede’s inheritance to fall back on if things went awry.

Even Stede began to come around to the man he once despised. Their time spent together endeared the grumpy man to him, and before long the friendly pirate began to find his once brutish humor as rather charming, seeing his brisk efficiency as an asset rather than a damper on his time with Edward. Though he refused to admit it aloud, Izzy could feel himself grow fond of the odd man as well. He couldn’t help but note the differences between his and Edward’s style of captaining, beginning to notice Stede’s strengths. He didn’t command fear, something Izzy had been aware of since he first stepped foot on the Revenge, but for the first time he realized it was because he didn’t need to. The eccentric man earned their loyalty, relying not on threats and fear to inspire loyalty, but on kind words and unwavering support, cementing a bond stronger than fear ever could.

The only person who had some trouble blending into their new dynamic was Edward. Mo had begun to ease up around him, seeing the way he had transformed under their captain’s care. They no longer believed he would lash out in violence if provoked, at least not while Stede was around to judge him for it. They still had to battle their nerves around the tall man, their blood turning to ice whenever they saw him near Izzy. The former captain stayed to the side with Stede most of the time, knowing that most of his sailing companions were weary of him, but he slowly made efforts to reach out.

Fang was the first to forgive him, the two bonding as they spent a day fishing. The large man seemed to have a load off his shoulders as he shared tea with his friends in the galley that night.

“Y’think he meant it?” Frenchie asked, his thumb running over the lip of his mug.

Fang nodded emphatically, careful not to spill his tea from the dainty teacup he favored. “Oh, absolutely. He even asked me about myself,” he said, sounding amazed, his kind eyes wide. “I’ve spent decades sailing with him, never once had he even asked me my name.” He sipped his tea. “He’s done more this week than he has in years.”

Izzy hummed, scowling as he thought, his thumb trailing over Mo’s thigh where they sat beside him. He held a bottle of rum rather than a mug.

“Not saying much,” he said roughly. “Never was all too concerned how we were doing.” His voice was dark, bitter as he spoke about the man he had spent so much of his life following. He took a swig of his rum, grimacing as the alcohol burned his throat. He smiled when he felt Mo’s hand on top of his own, setting the bottle on the table in front of him and wrapping his arm behind their shoulder to pull them closer. Mo was quick to adjust, resting their head on his shoulder.

“So,” Jim asked, looking around at their companions, “where are we on this? He seems better, at least better than before.”

Archie squeezed their arm. “Seems better to me,” she said. “Don’t know if we can really hope for any better, to be honest. I mean, he’s not killing us, or dragging us on raids,” she sat forward in her seat, counting on her fingers. “No one’s been shot for a while, we get steady food, and hey, the company ain’t too bad.” She grinned, flashing Jim a wink, making her partner chuckle.

Frenchie bobbed his head as he nodded. “Reckon we’ll all be alright,” he said. “We’ve got each other, and Captain hasn’t shown any signs of concern. Maybe he can pull the whole thing off, actually save the bitch.”

Izzy and Mo scoffed at the same time, sharing a brief look as they smiled.

“Here’s to hoping,” Mo said, turning back to the group and holding up their mug. Mugs and china clinked together as the pirates toasted, each murmuring their own hopes as they drank.

Slowly, Edward began to weasel his way back into the hearts of the crew. Much of his redemption was owed to Stede, who gently guided his partner and helped him to understand what had gone wrong, and how to make things up to those he’d hurt. The famed pirate became remarkably docile on his probation, his jingly collar alerting others to his presence as he moved around the ship, careful not to surprise anyone. To his credit, he did what he could to make things right with the crew. He let Lucius push him off the ship when he realized how upset the young man was about his time stranded at sea, and admitted to Jim and Archie that he shouldn’t have tried to make them fight each other to the death, though he had yet to properly own up to the damage he had caused.

The man hellbent on self-improvement had even approached Izzy one morning, hesitantly joining him as he redid some knots Black Pete had used to secure the rigging. Edward brought a bottle of rum with him, holding it awkwardly as he watched his former first mate work.

“You always were good at that,” he commented absently. Izzy only grunted, his eyes barely flickering to the man he had once adored. “You were good at a lot of things,” he continued softly. “More than I ever gave you credit for, if I’m being honest.”

“Understatement of the year,” Izzy drawled, moving on to correct another knot, grimacing as he adjusted his stance on his wooden leg.

“Yeah. Yeah, s’pose so.” Edward’s voice was low and sorrowful. He shuffled, his brow furrowing as he frowned down at the deck. “Look, Iz,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry. ‘Bout all of it. ‘Specially about your leg. You…you didn’t deserve that.” He faltered, not knowing whether to continue. “I fucked up, and I tried to take you down with me. Shouldn’t have done that.” He cleared his throat, slowly holding out the bottle of rum to Izzy.

“I brought you this,” he said lamely. He stammered, trying to think of something to say, something to undo the irreparable damage he had caused. “I know it’s your favorite. It doesn’t make up for anything, I know, but…I just, I want you to have it.”

Izzy dropped his knots, turning to face him. He frowned as he looked at Edward, his eyebrows knit together as he evaluated the man he had spent so long serving. Never in his life had he expected to be offered a gift, even if in a poor attempt to make amends, from Edward, nor would he have thought he’d see the mix of guilt and apprehension etched onto his face. Even more surprising were the words he spoke. He’d had apologized in the past, but never in a way that didn’t shirk responsibility, blaming others or circumstances outside of his control when someone was hurt. Never before had he meant it so sincerely, no longer dropping a small apology and then brushing past it, already back to matters he cared about. Now he truly seemed to care, wanting his former friend to know that he was sorry.

“Thanks,” Izzy said after a moment of contemplation. He hesitantly took the bottle, watching Edward carefully as he moved, looking for any change he could use to predict his next move.

Edward gave him a small smile. “I hope you like it,” he said, gesturing towards the bottle. “I remember back in the day, when you could go through a whole bottle.” Izzy hummed, looking down at the bottle as he turned it over in his hands. “Probably won’t be doing that anymore,” he said absentmindedly. “Mo gets concerned when I drink too much. Really scared them last time. When we voted,” he clarified, as though Edward could ever forget.

The tall man nodded solemnly. “They really care about you,” he noted. He chuckled when Izzy’s eyes darted up, looking at him suspiciously. “It’s alright,” he insisted, holding his hands up calmingly. “I…I actually think it’s nice,” he admitted, smiling softly. “Bit like me and Stede. You two, you balance each other well. You give each other what you need, and make up where the other lacks.”

Izzy bristled, his lip curling at the insinuation.

Edward’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Shit! Fuck!” he scrambled. “Didn’t mean anything by that, cross my heart. Just that, y’know, you’re different people with different skills. No one person can be perfect.” Izzy grunted again, spinning the bottle in his hands. “Used to think that,” he admitted quietly. He shook his head, rousing himself from his thoughts. “’Scuse me. Gotta get this stashed away before Jim finds it. Bastard’s taken a liking to it too, been burning through my supply.” He gave his former friend a tense nod before turning, walking away towards the door down into the ship. He wondered if the sound of his wooden leg against the deck rang as loudly in Edward’s head as it did his own, turning his gift over in his hands absentmindedly.

With Izzy working so hard to fix up the ship and train Stede in the ways of pirating, and Mo overseeing the general operation of the crew and teaching basics lessons when they could, the two had little time left for each other at the end of the day. Usually, they would walk back to their cabin together, taking their time getting ready for bed and complaining to each other about all the little things that had gone wrong throughout the day. They would laugh about the silly things their respective students had done, and try to figure out which repairs took priority for the next day.

Only when they were in bed were they able to take their minds off work, focusing only on each other. For a precious bit, they were able to just be themselves, Izzy often choosing to read more of the letters Mo had written for him, while his partner did their best to salvage their botched crochet project. On nights when that was too frustrating for them, they’d sketch, or simply rest against Izzy, letting the rhythmic beating of his heart soothe their frustrations.

When it came time for Izzy to take the night shift on deck, Mo was reluctant to let him go. His exhaustion had been improving since they had begun sharing the role of teacher, but his body still ached from his wounds, and he so rarely got the rest he needed. More selfishly, they didn’t want to lose what precious time they had with him. Nevertheless, he was determined that he do his shift, insisting that it wouldn’t be fair if he assigned it to others but never followed through himself. After much discussion and many kisses, he finally convinced his partner to go to bed without him, promising to see them in the morning, bright and early.

A few hours into the night, long after the sun had set, Mo joined Izzy on deck. They peered around as they emerged from the underbelly of the ship, a thin blanket draped over their shoulders as they looked around.

“What’re you doing up?”

They turned to find the owner of the voice, hoarse after a few hours of disuse, smiling softly as their eyes landed on their partner. His eyebrows were knit as he gazed down at them from the quarterdeck, leaning down with his hands placed on the railing, studying them with concern.

“Something wrong?” Izzy asked, pushing himself off the railing and moving towards the steps.

Mo shook their head, chuckling softly. “No, my love,” they said, their voice thick with sleep as they made their way towards the steps, walking up them faster than he could descend. “Nothing’s wrong. Other than me being alone in bed, that is.” Izzy chuckled, wrapping his arms loosely around their waist as they stepped closer.

“Sorry, darling,” he said quietly, looking down at them with soft dark eyes. “Someone has to keep watch. The others have all done their part. Time I do mine, even if I do wish I could be cozied up with you.”

Mo hummed, resting their cheek against his chest and pulling their blanket tighter over their shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep without you,” they mumbled, sighing contently as he ran his hand up their back, gently holding them. “The bed was cold. Felt too much like before, when we were apart. Figured I might as well keep you company up here. Might doze off, but I’d rather be with you anyway.” They lifted their head, smiling sleepily as he pressed a kiss to their forehead.

“You should be in bed,” he said softly, cupping their jaw as his rough thumb glided over the soft skin of their cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. You need rest, Mo.” Mo huffed a short laugh. “You need rest, Iz. And I can’t sleep without you, as inconvenient as it is.” They sighed dramatically. “Curse you, Israel Hands. I could sleep just fine on my own before, as long as I wasn’t in danger. Now I can’t even make it through the night without you. You’ve spoiled me.” They stood up on their toes to kiss him, cutting him off mid chuckle, though he didn’t seem to mind the interruption, his hands moving up to gently hold their face.

“Just let me stay up here with you?” they asked quietly as they sunk back down, looking up at him pleadingly. “Please?”

Izzy hesitated, trying to think of any potential argument he could use in his favor, but sighed heavily when they frowned, their tired eyes wide as they looked up at him. “Fine,” he said lowly, still holding their face as he rested his forehead against theirs. “But you need to sit still at least,” he insisted. “Can’t have you running around, wearing yourself ragged. Can you do that for me, darling?”

Mo nodded, giving him a small smile. “Whatever you say, Mr. Hands. Don’t want to get in trouble with my superior.”

He chuckled. “If that were true, you’d let up with all the teasing,” he pointed out, unable to hide his fondness. His fingers brushed against the hair at the back of their neck, deftly swirling a lock as he smiled.

They couldn’t help but smirk up at him, their heart thumping loudly in their chest. “Where would the fun in that be?” they asked softly. They grinned as Izzy leaned down, capturing them in another sweet kiss. They held his face when he pulled back, reluctant to let their lover go.

“C’mon,” he said softly, tilting his head to the side. “Let’s get you settled, love.”

Mo let him take their hands, guiding them over to where a few crates sat nearby, storing extra rope that the crew had used to practice their knots earlier in the day. He motioned for them to sit, releasing their hands as they did. They patted the spot next to them as he straightened their blanket, covering them more securely with the soft material.

Izzy sighed wearily, giving them a reluctant look as they frowned pleadingly, before sitting next to them, groaning as he lowered himself down. He propped his wooden leg up to rest on another crate, wrapping his arm behind his partner’s back as they leaned against his shoulder, sighing contently.

“Not fuckin’ fair,” he grumbled quietly, dipping his nose into their hair as they cuddled up to him. “You know I can’t say no when you make that face.”

Mo hummed, holding loosely onto his vest as he ran his hand up and down their back, letting the repetitive motion soothe them. They could already feel themselves drifting off to sleep, their exhaustion washing over them again now that they could relax, knowing Izzy was nearby.

“Good thing I use it sparingly,” they mumbled. Izzy hummed, his warm breath tickling their scalp. “Don’t want to go mad with power.” They yawned, covering their mouth with the back of their hand before settling back in, letting their eyes slip closed. “Thank you, Israel. I love you.”

They were barely awake long enough to hear Izzy said that he loved them too, their mind already drifting away, carried out to sea by the sounds of the gentle lapping of the waves against the side of the ship as he held them.

Mo wasn’t awake when Lucius stumbled onto deck in the morning, groaning loudly as he stretched his back. He was the first to rise, having carefully removed himself from Black Pete’s sleepy embrace to stretch his legs and, more importantly, his bad back. He sighed as he walked over to the railing of the ship, his hands resting on his aching muscles as he moved.

“Will you keep it down?” hissed a voice, making the young man spin in confusion. He gaped when he saw Izzy, sitting on a crate on the quarterdeck, a lightly snoring Mo draped over him.

Lucius had a smirk on his face as he walked up the steps, sitting down on the railing overlooking the deck and crossing his legs as he took in the sight. The bristly first mate wrapped his arms defensively around Mo, as though he feared they would be separated.

“Well, well, well,” Lucius said smugly, his voice hushed so as not to wake his friend. He crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded them with an air of self-satisfaction. “What do we have here? The terrifying Izzy Hands, cuddled up with his partner practically drooling on his lap.”

Izzy rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly. “Piss off, Spriggs,” he said halfheartedly, adjusting the blanket draped over Mo’s shoulders. “They couldn’t sleep. Wasn’t very well going to send them off on their own, tell them to tough it out.” Lucius laughed. “Why not? That’s what you would’ve done for the rest of us.” He looked at the young man like he was stupid. “Because,” he said, his tone conveying the same message, “I love them. Not gonna send them away, not when I can help.” He tightened his grip around them, looking down with concern as they shifted, murmuring in their sleep. He gave a quiet sigh of relief when they settled again, nestling closer to him.

“You two sure are an odd couple,” Lucius noted, watching them closely. He only smiled when Izzy flashed him a weak glare. “Relax, Mr. Grumpy,” he sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not saying you’re not good together. Just that you bring out, well, interesting sides of each other.” Izzy frowned. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, shifting slightly on the crate, still careful not to rouse his partner.

Lucius grinned, picking up on the undercurrent of insecurity in his voice. He chuckled. “Nothing bad, dear old Iz. You just get…I don’t know. Softer, I guess. More vulnerable, around them. You open up more, act more like a man than just Blackbeard’s first mate.” He said the name with vague disdain, rolling his eyes softly as he shifted on the railing. “And they,” he continued, nodding towards the sleeping form pressed against him. “Well, they get fiercer. More protective.” He scoffed, bouncing his foot as he thought. “Not that they’re not usually, but you know, you seem to intensify it.” He frowned as he studied the older pirate in front of him, still frowning defensively. “You do know that, right?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

Izzy hesitated. “Know what, exactly?” he asked after a moment, suddenly finding it hard to meet his gaze.

Lucius smiled faintly, huffing a small laugh. “That they love you,” he said simply, his voice soft with sincerity. “More than anyone else. They’d do anything to keep you safe. They stood up to Spanish Jackie, basically told her the polite version of ‘piss off’ whenever she tried to flirt with them. Told her straight to her face that they were supposed to be with you, and that they were loyal only to you when Stede and the others got caught stealing, if Pete can be believed.” Izzy scoffed. “That’s a big if,” he said, meeting his companion’s gaze. Lucius continued, not acknowledging the dig at his partner. “Not to mention that they were on the verge of lighting the Red Flag on fire just to cause a distraction when Zheng had you in the brig.” He snorted. “Wouldn’t be all that surprised if they sold us all out to the English to save you, if it really came down to it.”

Izzy scowled. “Mo would never,” he said quietly, his voice firm as his defenses raised. “They’re no bootlicker, or traitor.”

Lucius chuckled. “I know,” he said sincerely, smiling at the prickly man. “That’s why it’s such a big deal that they’d do it for you.”

Izzy frowned, running his gloved hand up and down Mo’s arm absentmindedly. Would they? He looked down at his sleeping partner, their form relaxed as they breathed steadily in his arms. They’d already offered to kill Blackbeard for him, to do whatever they had to to keep him safe from Zheng. They’d never be a turncoat, he knew, his thumb running carefully over their cheek, his touch as light as a ghost. Their entire world would have to be on the line for them to even consider it. Maybe, he admitted to himself, sighing softly.

“Well,” Lucius said softly, jolting the man out of his thoughts, “I’ll leave you two be.” He uncrossed his legs and stood, stalling before he walked away. “You treat them well, y’know,” he said softly, his fingers trailing over the rough wood of the railing as he spoke. “I’ll be the first to admit, I had my doubts when you got together. Didn’t want to see them get themselves hurt.” He spun idly on his feet, resting his hands on the railing as Izzy watched him, examining him closely. “But you’ve surprised me,” he admitted, cracking a small smile. “I’m happy to say that you now have my full approval. You’ve earned it.”

Lucius grinned as Izzy processed, unsure of whether to be annoyed by the young man’s unasked for feedback or touched by his kind words.

After a moment, he huffed, his brow still furrowed as he spoke. “Don’t need your approval,” he said, his rough voice quiet. “But…” he trailed off, looking out over the sea as he swallowed. “Thanks.” He grimaced at how hoarse his voice came out, refusing to look at the scribe as he smirked.

“Anytime, Izzy. And hey,” he added, stepping down the stairs to the main deck, “if the time comes and you need an anniversary present, I could always help you out with a sketch.” He winked suggestively, stifling his laugh with his hand as Izzy blushed lightly.

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” he replied, unable to help his own small smirk. Lucius grinned as he walked away, chuckling at the way Izzy returned his teasing. Maybe Mo wasn’t so crazy for liking him after all.

After that, the crew began to volunteer more often to take the night shift. The rumor of how a tired Mo had tracked down Izzy, turning their usually no nonsense first mate into a softie must have spread quickly through the crew, though no one saw fit to bring it up to them directly. Instead, various members of the crew would seek out Izzy on nights he was assigned to the night shift and do their best to convince him to let them cover for him. Archie would tease him, saying there were other things he could be doing that would be much more fun, giving him a sly grin and a firm clasp on the shoulder. She would snicker as he rolled his eyes, wishing away the blush that dusted his ears. Pete would do his best to act casual, telling the older pirate awkwardly that he looked tired, and that he would cover his shift so he could rest. Izzy was suspicious of the offers at first, but slowly found himself starting to accept them on nights when he ached with exhaustion or needed to rest his leg.

Mo couldn’t help but be grateful for their friends’ efforts, and even more that they were smart enough not to speak openly about what they were doing. As much as they loved their partner, Izzy was a proud man, and was still struggling to accept help, even from those he cared for deeply and trusted with his whole heart. Izzy knew that the crew was looking out for him, trying earnestly to give him time to rest and relax, a luxury he hadn’t been afforded for many years, but he let it remain unsaid. He showed his appreciation for them in small ways, letting the misfits slowly worm his way into his heart and no longer fighting to keep them out. Slowly, day by day, he began to enjoy their company, though he still wouldn’t admit it out loud.

On nights that Mo was assigned to watch over the ship, Izzy would join them on deck. They insisted the first few times that he didn’t need to, that they were fine on their own and he needed as much sleep as he could get, but he had insisted.

“You’re not the only one that feels an absence, you know,” he said gruffly one night, leaning against the railing of the ship next to his partner.

The moon danced across the rippling surface of the water as Mo turned to face him. The light from the hanging lanterns reflected off his dark eyes, making them shimmer like fallen stars.

“Let me stay,” he asked simply, his voice low. His beautiful face, worn by his years at sea, was half cast in shadows as he looked at them. “Don’t want to be without you.”

Mo nodded softly, a small smile tugged at their lips as Izzy moved slightly closer so his shoulder brushed theirs. “You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” they asked wryly, glancing at their partner.

Izzy feigned a frown. “’Course not,” he said, unable to keep the humor out of his voice. “That would be entirely unprofessional.”

They laughed, leaning their head to rest on his shoulder.

“Can’t give the crew too much to gossip about,” he continued, taking their hand in his own. “Just now getting them up to shape. God knows what would happen if we got them out of sorts now.”

“So I shouldn’t gush to them about how wonderful you are?” Mo asked teasingly, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Izzy hummed. “Not more than usual,” he said, smiling softly when they look up at him, cradling his cheek in their hand. “Can’t blame you if you need to talk about it a bit, though.” Mo grinned. “I’ll do my best. Can’t promise anything though, not when you’re…this.” He smiled softly, holding the hand that cupped his cheek, leaning into their touch.

“I love you, Israel.”

Izzy chuckled. “I love you too. Wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t.”

Mo huffed a short laugh, cut off as Izzy leaned down, kissing them sweetly.

#izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands x oc #ofmd izzy #ofmd #original character #my writing

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princeanxious · 3 years ago

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Mmmm much angst very anxceit :) (WIP)

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #anxceit #luka’s wips #saw a prompt abt drawing yer ship being vulnerable #and i realized there were tons of perspectives of them for pre-AA virgil crying in Jan’s arms #but none(that i’ve found so far anyway) of Jan crying in Virge’s #and i think it’d be an interesting take on how they started fixing the damage in their relationship #by Janus breaking first and letting himself be honest about his own mistakes and finally completely vulnerable in front #*of virgil #and Virgil’s already forgiven him #but wasn’t willing to fix anything until Janus met him in the middle- bc it has to be a 2-way street #so apologies if Virgil looks sorta unsymp(he’s not-im still working on the expression. hes supposed to look tired but hopeful)#also a glimpse into how I go about drawing stuff for anyone whos curious lol #its still super early in my sketch stage but things get v complicated layer wise after this point lol

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sepublic · 3 years ago

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I find it interesting how Luz’s actions have caused a LOT of trouble and embarrassment for Amity in the past. First taking her Top Student badge away, causing Amity to make a fool of herself in public... Getting her outed as an unknowing cheater at the Covention, the diary incident, stealing her training wand and getting the twins captured by the Slitherbeast... Amity losing her job (tho that was mostly her own fault too), making Amity think Luz was embarrassed by the idea of them being together, and now this whole incident with the Bonesborough Brawl being interrupted, the championship taken from her.

And it’s fascinating, because Luz HAS screwed up, a lot; But for all the grief she’s done Amity, it’s never been intentional nor really HER fault (even if she unknowingly contributed), and not only does she make up for it but... Amity understands WHY Luz did it, that it’s an honest accident and she’s not the malicious person one might assume, and most notably, Luz has done so much good for Amity as well! As Emira put it, Amity straight-up wasn’t happy before Luz, Luz is the reason she’s self-actualized and feels comfortable with who she is, healed and recovered, made connections and defeated her parents! Luz is why Amity was able to choose what SHE wanted for her life and realize what that was!

Obviously this says a lot of Amity’s saintly patience, it’d be easy to associate Luz with bad luck even if she’s acknowledged as not culpable; But also how Luz no doubt thinks of herself as a mess-up who causes problems for others, which is why she’s so insistent on helping people and keeping her own issues a solo concern; That, and the trauma of loneliness, RSD, not wanting to be a burden. That last one really hits home given it was the explicit theme of the Season 2 premiere, because Luz doesn’t want to cause trouble for her mother Camila by being herself, and she doesn’t want to cause trouble for her friends!

It’s really compelling then, that in her attempts to overcorrect and compensate, Luz paradoxically causes problems; Either immediately or eventually, due to her lack of self-care bleeding out into her relationships with others. It’s why Eda and Raine broke up after all, you can’t hide what you’re going through, or else your partner doesn’t actually know you! Luz is just so apologetic of who she is and that just worsens her issues instead of fixing them, because she needs to love herself before she can love others; And we see firsthand how a lack of self-care can mess with loved ones and people.

It also adds to their relationship; Relationships aren’t perfect. There are ups and downs, mistakes. Sure most of these mistakes were from before Luz and Amity became girlfriends, but still. Relationships take work, they take collaboration and apology, and forgiveness. You do the wrong thing, but what matters is that you try and actually attempt to make up for that. And after what we’ve seen, I think this will likely be the last time Luz causes a problem for Amity over a lack of communication; Because a lack of communication was also the reason for conflict between them.

Amity misunderstanding Luz as more malicious than she actually was, and not realizing her perspective (nor acknowledging how people like Hermonculus and Lilith were the actual problems here, not Luz). The girls taking accountability for their own mistakes, such as Amity with her harsh feelings and assumptions, her associations of Luz with trouble and harm, healthily drawing the line where Luz’s actual culpability is (Luz can’t predict every consequence that happens even if her mistake was necessary in causing them); Luz trying to be more upfront about what she meant, responsible and fix damage even if it isn’t her fault, because she’s just compassionate like that anyhow.

That ability to listen and understand Luz makes Amity able to forgive and grant her those multiple chances. And likewise, Luz has always been willing to hear Amity out from the start, you can see her guilt when Amity loses her mind over her lost star, her concern when she asks what happened to Amity at the end of her debut episode, where she was an antagonist! Luz is someone who has always wanted to know the real Amity Blight, and that’s given Amity the chance to be seen... And have her mistakes be understood, such as Amity’s general prickliness, her elitism, and the incident with Willow.

It’s just a lot that these two girls go through a lot with each other. But they forgive each other, they understand each other, even as the other apologizes and makes up for what happened. And I LOVE LOVE how Luz acknowledges that her grief over her father, while valid, doesn’t excuse how she lied to Amity. How the show validates the weight of her pain with Amity asking if Luz lied, showing it’s serious and she’s not silly for taking it that way. And Luz is hurting just as Eda was with the curse, but that’s no excuse to take it out on your loved ones, they have a right to know and Luz learns and acknowledges it!

Luz just really DOES have such an issue with denial, with repression and downplaying herself. Trying to be accommodating, thinking her problems aren’t that big a deal; After all, if Vee did just fine in the human world, clearly the issue was with Luz! And how Luz just blames herself for causing problems, which has her RSD exaggerate how people react to what she’s done, hence her misremembering Camila’s wish at the end of Yesterday’s Lie as so much harsher than it actually was. And Luz CAN be frustrating, but instead of letting that confirmation resign her to despair, Luz actually confronts the issue instead of wallowing in self-pity. She fixes her mistakes, and she’s finally learning to forgive herself over them to focus on the right thing, on reparations and healing, including for herself. Luz gets her act together.

These two girlfriends, they’re just going through it, they bring their baggage and issues to the relationship and it’s not all sunshine and rainbows; But they do get past it. Because they’re in a relationship and support each other, and take that relationship seriously. It’s such a healthy example and representation, it’s insane. And it really shows how having these other people in your life can and SHOULD be fulfilling! Luz is Trying and so is Amity. And tellingly, she never lords how she helped Amity over her GF, Luz never brags that she’s done so much for Amity nor implies that her girlfriend owes her. Which means Amity is free to take issue with things as she rightfully deserves. There’s just so much respect and trust, imperfections yet growth, this relationship and their struggles are so frank and real. Love is HARD but they’re getting through it, no matter what; Because it’s a choice and they’ve chosen, after finally being given the freedom to do so!

(But yeah I need content, canon or otherwise, of Luz just smothering Amity with love and care to make up for all of the embarrassment and pain she’s caused. Giving her compliments and supporting Amity, making her feel better and trying to make up for her shortcomings as a girlfriend, after Amity has done so much for her! But of course Amity would counter that Luz has already done everything for her, she’ll always remember things like her faith in Luz paying off in Eclipse Lake.)

#the owl house #Lumity #luz noceda #amity blight #meta #character analysis

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inkdemonapologist · 3 years ago

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[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

nEW SESSION (summary here!), where there’s been an unexpected development to the music issue and its time to [checks my notes] taLK TO THE PROPHET AND BREAK INTO SUSIE’S APARTMENT??? Also, the Prophet and Joey have made.... a truce(???), Prophet is concerned Sammy isn’t going to stay on task now that music is returning and has left him a sort of alarming note, and Jack is uh, trying to hold, too many things, maybe some things he shouldn’t be holding, Jack please put those things back,

anyway heres a stack of out-of-context quotes from our session under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] My favourite thing is, there are so many reasons that Henry could've avoided things that I have no idea WHY Henry isn't affected. [Jack] Like, is he not affected because his art isn't a performance? Is he not affected because he warded his house? Is he not affected because he'S FILLED WITH GLOWING BLOOD?!?

[Jack] He got as far as feeding his cat, and I feel like feeding cat isn't a performance-- [Sammy] Not usually, not unless you sing a song to your cat, which-- [Jack] Awww! [Sammy] -- which, now that I've said that, sounds like something Jack would do actually,

[Sammy] Ohhhh, that's right, Joey just heard some people play some bad notes and start panicking, and then he stood up and passed out, [Jack] Which is probably how Sammy feels every time he hears people mess up music!

[GM] He finds news on the radio, but they’re not talking about that right now. [Joey] What are they talking about? [GM] Something mundane; business or sports or something. [Jack] The, the sportsball team, got a…..uh….. a, a point. Congratulations, sportsball,

[Joey] If the sportscasters sound normal, then Joey is instantly VERY ANGRY.

[Henry] Henry’s not very musically inclined, but he knows some songs, [Sammy] Like, can you hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- [Jack] “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

[Jack] Jack has made a vague list of the kinds of people who seem to be affected. [Jack] There’s also “NOT HENRY?????” with a bunch of question marks in this list.

[GM] He’s told that Peter is out of town for a week. [Jack] Hmm. [Sammy] PETER WHERE ARE YOU GOING? [Jack] Hmmmmmm. [Sammy] Jack, is Peter coming here, to check on you, [Jack] HMMMMMMMMMMMMM,

[Sammy] *exasperated* NPCs Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Challenge [Henry] Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Or Draw 25

[Joey] Peter had never seen a Bendy cartoon, and this needed to be fixed. [Joey] The premier is this weekend, and he sent tickets to Pete to correct this, error, in his ways. [Jack] ...I think it is very slowly dawning on Jack, that this means that Pete has been pulled directly into yet another… supernatural nonsense... [Sammy] WE DIDNT DO THIS ONE!!

[Sammy] I CAN’T BELIEVE PHONES ARE THE ANTAGONIST OF THIS ADVENTURE

[Henry] Oh wait--! oh, no, nevermind, I forgot he and Allison probably aren’t together yet. [Sammy] Yeah, I think they just met; they had a meet-cute where they found out they both like Frankenstein and that’s it. [Jack] They actually got married today, since nothing else was happening at the Studio, [Sammy] That’s why Allison hasn’t shown up, she was busy getting married!

[GM] Bendy might’ve been keeping tabs on Henry, but it depends I guess on how distressed Joey is seeming. [Joey] Joey is probably just going to bury his sorrow in studying magic. [GM] Okay! That’s fine and normal Joey behaviour!

[Sammy] Sammy will note that nothing got done in the music department, because he has good priorities.

[Jack] I like the idea that it’s just like, when the teacher isn’t in, and nobody does the work the substitute teacher gave you, [Jack] Everyone’s just playing pokemon in the back, [GM] I thought you were going to say “poker,” but I like the way you ended the sentence better.

[Jack] HMMMMMM. I wonder if we know, any suspicious women, who were around on that specific day, who are known to have, skill and interest in magical things, [Joey] And also were aware of the cutouts, [Sammy] *cheerfully* Yeah, weird! Anyway!!!!

[Jack] Sammy was acting weird about Allison. Far too agreeable for a Sammy!

[Sammy] *talking about Prophet* If you want to lock him in somewhere, or restrain him, I’ll cooperate. [Jack] Just handcuff him to Jack! [Sammy] SAMMY IS UNEASY WITH THAT PLAN, [Jack] *laughing* What could go wrong! It’s not like Jack is significantly less strong or anything!!

[Jack] Not everyone makes up their entire self, Joey!!! (Affectionate)!!

[Sammy] I give my word, my sheep! [Henry] How good is your word? [Sammy] I mean. It’s pretty good.

[Henry] Henry’s trying to decide if it would be rude to doodle during this very serious conversation. [Jack] I mean, Jack is taking notes, so I feel like-- [Joey] --you can get away with fake note-ing. [GM] No one will know! [GM] Well, Bendy will know, because he’s up high. [GM] Ceiling Bendy

[Sammy] He’s not gonna give you a grade afterwards, like, this isn’t a lecture, [Jack] Time for Prophet Pop Quiz!

[GM] What’s Prophet writing? [Sammy] Um, I gotta think about this... [Jack] “Dear Frightened Shepherd, that Allison person sure is nice, isn’t she?” [GM] “What’s up with everyone ragging on her?” [Joey] “I think I have finally found a way to bridge the gap between us!” [Jack] “I think you need to replace your sheep, they seem kind of suspicious for no reason,” [Jack] “To Do List: Get Better Sheep”

[Sammy] Does this feel like something that’s trying to take his focus, like, very compelling creative ideas? [GM] Yes. [Sammy] ...Prophet will write “don’t get distracted” five more times.

[GM] His mind is abuzz with thoughts of dancing and actoring, [GM] Ideas to be the best Joey ever! [Jack] Oh no.

[Joey] He will wave at the cutout and make a “come here” motion. [Joey] Though also, he’s looking at the cutout like, I’m not quite sure how this works, but I’m going to trust you that it works! So I’m going to do this and see if Bendy shows up! [Jack] Like someone trying to learn how to do phone video calls for the first time, [Joey] YES. Joey’s actually like really close to the cutout, and the motions -- you can make them out, but it’s really awkward,

[Sammy] They’re in no danger. I will take care of the Shepherd’s sheep. [Jack] ...JACK’S BEEN DOWNGRADED!! He’s no longer PROPHET’S sheep!

[Joey] I like how everything Prophet says really just feels like, Knife Cat face.

[GM] You could probably make a Mythos roll to figure it out. [Joey] *rolls* Oh! Extreme success! [GM] Joey’s back!

[GM] Bendy will lead Joey back to the room, where hopefully there are three alive, non-fighting boys!

[Jack] Part of me was like, “What if Jack DOES turn into a cat…?! It’d be pretty hard to write things!” [GM] *laughs* We’ll keep that in our back pocket, in case Jack ever fails a Mythos check. [Jack] Meowthos check…

[Henry] I’m going to have Henry look, look with his Special Eyes.

[Sammy] *failing a roll* Prophet is just, NOT on the ball today, in any way shape or form. [GM] Really hard not to think about music. : ) [Sammy] Ohhhhhh boy, [Jack] Prophet just writes a note to Sammy that says “HOW do you LIVE like this???”

[Henry] Henry’s gonna try to scribble what he remembers of the symbol! [Sammy] Didn’t we learn, from the last scenario, about reproducing weird symbols, [Henry] No.

[Joey] Did Joey get burnt? [GM] Make a dexterity roll! : ) [Henry] *mumbling* Y’all this entire building is made of wood. *Joey fails* [GM] 1 point of damage, you singe your hand -- on the plus side, you kind of were holding it as it burned up, so it doesn’t fall on the wooden floor. [Sammy] OH GOOD, we’re not LOCKED IN A CLOSET that’s about to burn down? GREAT!

[Joey] We could head over to the infirmary -- [Jack] Jack is already pulling the burn ointment out of his bag. [Jack] He’s prepared this time! [Jack] He’s been practicing, he knows what you’re all like,

[Joey] Joey will give him a smile that’s most recognisable as the “I know you will do good!” smile. [Sammy] Prophet will also smile! It is not a friendly smile. [Jack] It’s a “smile” in quotation marks, but it’s like, baring your teeth as an act of aggression.

[Jack] Jack lets him go to do the call, but just before he picks up the phone, he says, “Don’t call him Petey.”

[GM] The phone rings, and is not answered. [Joey] Okay! Joey hangs up, says Peter checked into his room, but is not answering. Most likely asleep. [Jack] Half of my brain is going, “what if he’s just stood outside Jack’s house?” The other half of my brain is concerned about manias. I hope he’s not decided that now is a really great time to do more writing, and now he can’t stop, and this could go wrong-- [Jack] This is what Jack’s mind is doing, thinking of all the terrible possibilities. [Joey] While humming. [Jack] ...yes. He’s writing some very troubling lyrics.

[Sammy] *talking about Jack’s compulsive humming* Like Cornifer, [Jack] *starts humming Cornifer’s theme* Dangit, now it’s in my head, why would you do this to me? [Sammy] It’s in character! [Sammy] Method acting. : )

[Joey] Joey’s going to grab supplies to make sure Bendy can… hang around with them! [Joey] Sleepover supplies! Let’s grab your sleepover bag! :D

[Sammy] I don’t know why the idea of a wild Bendy running around across the rooftops is so cute to me… [GM] Probably on all fours, [Jack] Scampering,

[Jack] It’s a good thing Henry’s around because I don’t think Jack can… carry??? An entire Sammy??? [Jack] Like he’s good at holding but he’s not strong at holding.

[Joey] We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours… [Joey] WAIT. We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours!!!

[GM] Bendy hides under a blanket or something. [Jack] Comfey… [GM] Cozy boy, [Joey] Bendyrito. [Sammy] BENDYRITO,…….. [GM] Rolled up… snug...

[GM] Is everybody coming into the apartment, or just the two? [Jack] Hmmm….. Jack isn’t fond of either of these options. Going in is suspicious and weird; staying outside makes it look even more like they’re breaking in, to steal things, as opposed to, y’know, breaking in, for,,, “good” reasons(???) [Sammy] We’re not breaking in, we’re just walking into this apartment! What’s so weird about that?! [Jack] That’s breaking in. That’s what breaking in is, Sammy. [Sammy] They don’t have to know that we don’t belong here, maybe Susie gave us a key! [Jack] ...they heard us knocking. [Sammy] [Sammy] We’re BEING POLITE!! SHUT UP!!

[Henry] Jack, did you pick up kleptomania.. [Joey] I thought Jack picked up Being Prepared! [Jack] H-he’s just hoarding a little bit!! It’s fine!!! It’s very, useful, see, already Joey got injured!! It was useful to bring lots of things with him okay!!!!!!!!!

[GM] They do not have the police called on them, so that’s nice. [Sammy] Oh good! [Jack] Thank GOODNESS. [Henry] Love when that happens! [GM] If you guys got arrested, the Lurker’s just out in the car all night, [Henry] oh NO, [Jack] Worse punishment than jail… [Joey] Lurker learns how to drive for fun. [GM] *laughs* Gets curious, [Joey] “I said I wouldn’t leave the car, but--”

[Joey] WAIT. There’s a very important factor that we just decided but didn’t say. [GM] Oh? [Joey] If we have Henry heading home, and everyone else sleep over at Jack’s…. [Joey] ...the Lurker finally gets to meet a cat. *everyone gasps* [Jack] Oh that’s SO important

[Henry] And Henry will probably look at these, while in the car, to make sure they don’t have any gold writing on them-- [Sammy] Isn’t Henry driving??? [Henry] ……Henry is not going to look at them in the car,

[Sammy] We’re all going to bed, Sammy, you don’t need a banjo to sleep! [Joey] You might sleep worse if you have a banjo, actually. You might not stop.

[Sammy] Jack you wanna join us? We’re gonna just jam all night! [Jack] It really is Jammy… [Sammy] *laughs* TRUE Jammy!! Real Jammy Hours… [GM] That makes it a pyJAMa party… a real jammy jam…

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #joey drew #Henry Stein #Bendy the Lurker #when in doubt just keep drawing #cthulhu game quotes #everyone except henry got a new insanity and we're doing... fine!

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theflyingkipper · 2 years ago

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tell me everything about your interpretations of real life locomotives

i just think they're neat

hello I am so sorry for making you wait months for an answer on this, I hope this is good!!

So I do have some locomotives from real life as part of my headcanons for TTTE characters (for example, Onslaught, Glory, and Greyhound are part of my D10 lore- and in my headcanon Diesel 10 is warship D810 “Cockade”)

But there are a few that don’t exactly relate to TTTE. I’ll be talking specifically about how I characterize them, with some links to past artwork I’ve done and any other informative links

Santa Fe 2926 (or “Santi”)

(2926 is the only one I’ve given a name that’s different from its running number so far, since shes the only one ive officially made into an OC)

Santi had a very short working life when she was still in service, and spent decades as a static display in a park. Oddly enough, shes not so grouchy as most display engines tend to become. I like to think she was in limbo for the most part while on display, kind of like Duke being buried in the shed. (Or like Captain America getting frozen for 75 years) When she woke up during the beginning of her restoration in the early 2000s, she was unaware of how much time had passed- which was very disorienting. Fortunately she’s had the restoration team catch her up on the last 60 years of human history.

Santi as of writing this post hasn’t been on any excursions yet as far as I know, and is still cooped up in the yard. I think she keeps an audio log of how she’s slowly going crazy in there.

“Day 325 - the restoration team fixed my whistle! Its a shame I have no one of my own kind to scream at with it!”

I think Santi and R&N 2102 are pen pals. preserved 4-8-4 besties for life ❤️🚂

they narrate what they want written out loud to their engineers, they both sign off with 0000-00000000-0000, their shared wheel arrangement in text.

Denver and Rio Grande K36s

(I want to give them names, and they’d probably all start with the same letter)

9 out of 10 of the K36s are preserved, the 5th one got scrapped. In reality, the group is split across the Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Railroad and the Durango & Silverton, but for the sake of this interpretation they’re all together

I found out about the K36s through a video by History in the Dark, he has a series of videos of “10 of the best trains ever”. I cant find the exact episode :(

Imagine the Dieseasel but there’s NINE of bill and ben instead of two. Though they aren’t as mischievous, they’re definitely just as irritating. They’re sort of a strange hive mind of little engines, akin to Ariel’s sisters in the Little Mermaid. Any time something spectacular happens on their railway, they find some way to spiritually communicate the happening to dear #485, their sibling who fell in a turntable and had to be scrapped- her damage was too severe. Though 485 was very much like the rest of them, she sort of becomes their saint- who they leave offerings of coal and water for in her old shed berth like its a medieval icon. Any time one of them misbehaves, one of their siblings is sure to tell them that 485 would be ashamed and she is not smiling on them right now.

Although this strays from their real life history quite a bit (and their gauge, which is 3ft), I think it would be hilarious if Thomas met them in a RWS-ified BWBA. He comes to their little railway and they all go front over wheels about their strange visitor. I also think the dynamic between them would be interesting, since the K36s are 9 out of their original 10, and Thomas is 1 out of the original 10 E2s. However, It’d probably take a while to get to that point in conversation with how supremely creeped out Thomas is by the K36s slightly cultish practices

Also, they’d probably chase him out of their little railway with pitchforks and acetylene torches if he brought up anything about turntables. They’re a bit of a touchy subject .

NKP 765

the 765 isn’t hard to find videos of XD Since shes the pride of the Nickel Plate Road and not converted to burn oil like lots of other large preserved engines, she takes pride in her unique status. I like to think she has the attitude of a great aunt or grandma with a gritty sense of humor and a laugh that could shake the walls. She does get puffed up in the smokebox, though, and has a hard time admitting she’s wrong. She has a bit of a parental relationship with the diesels on her railway, some of whom call her “granny”, and other endearments relating to her age.

New Zealand V Class

in a very different vein than everyone else, the V class all met the absolutely horrifying fate of being BURIED IN MUD

in my interpretation of them, The V Class have all become eldritch horror abominations, and local engines have kept their ghost stories alive and well. (usually taking the form of wayward vengeful spectres that like to make themselves known in uncomfortable places)

I had an idea where the V class emerges as one giant metal monster festooned with river sediment and garbage and terrorizes the locals but I don’t know enough about New Zealand or its railways to make an effective story.

#real life railway #santi (oc)#nkp 765 #d&rgw k36 #nzr v class #ttte oc #asks #kips cant shut up #santa fe 2926

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Hey does nie huisang's mother ever come back? I really liked the part where she doted and bonded with mingjue. I think even though she's not human she'd be even more delighted with him and more or less adopt him all over again after seeing how he cared so fiercely for huisang (also I don't think she'd care that guangyao has given up. Try to touch either of her kids and your a dead man... or maybe just mingjue? Since he's human and a LOT younger than her maybe she just goes around killing the people that have the capacity and wish to kill him)

spontaneous sequel to this morning’s fic (ao3 link here)

Huli jing were pretty rare, as spiritual beasts went, and that was generally considered to be a good thing - when they were bad, they were very very bad - but Nie Mingjue faithfully followed up on every possible lead regardless, putting it out among the other cultivation sects that he had a special interest and would appreciate - with monetary remuneration, even - a heads up should one ever show itself.

Mostly this meant following up on a lot of false leads, including, in one somewhat embarrassing case, an actual fox that had stolen the local farmer’s prize goose.

Still: family was family, and so he kept it up.

He had to stop during the war, naturally, and in the period immediately following it when his health had gotten very bad for a while, although luckily the dragon managed to fix it back up, and he’d been doing very well ever since. Lan Xichen had wondered if it was Clarity and Jin Guangyao had refused to talk to him for a month for some reason, but that wasn’t that important.

He was feeling better now, so he started following up on leads again. Nie Huaisang was coming up on his first quarter-century very soon, and that was supposed to be a big event - his first tail! - and books were all well and good but someone, anyone, with experience was better.

Ironically enough, he found what he was looking for on a scheduled hunt that wasn’t anything anyone had identified as a huli jing, but rather what appeared to be rather a great deal of nu gui appearing all at once near Lanling, enough to make a notorious womanizer like Jin Guangshan start to sweat. They’d all been making the rounds, all the various Great Sects together - even Jiang Cheng had joined in, as well as Lan Wangji, recently emerged from seclusion with a scowl firmly on his face.

“Why do you think they’re aiming at the Jin sect?” Lan Xichen wondered aloud as they walked around the edges of an abandoned village very close to Lanling - one of the trouble spots. “It’d be one thing if it were one of them, but so many...?”

“My theory is that someone is murdering all of Sect Leader Jin’s outside women so that they’ll go after him,” Jiang Cheng said, then glanced at Jin Guangyao. “No offense meant, of course.”

Jin Guangyao waved a hand dismissively. He’d started loosening up in the time since he met the dragon, revealing a bit more of his sharper and nastier side in a way that made Nie Mingjue respect him more than all of his fake softness had, and for some reason that had made Jiang Cheng warm right up to him. All for the good, in Nie Mingjue’s opinion, since they were all but co-raising that nephew of theirs...

“Who would do that, though?” he asked. “It’s as if they bear him a grudge, but it seems like a roundabout way of going about -”

“Dumpling!”

Nie Mingjue stopped moving.

There was a woman standing in the door to one of the village houses. Like a nu gui she was dressed all in red, but her flesh was ruddy and her complexion vibrant; her luxurious hair looped in a widow’s braids but her figure just as gorgeous as it had ever been.

She held out her hands towards Nie Mingjue, smiling. “Oh, cabbage bun, meat pie, my darling! How have you been?”

“...did she just...”

“Right to Chifeng-zun‘s face?”

Nie Mingjue put Baxia away.

“Mingjue-xiong?” Lan Xichen asked, frowning. “You should be careful; we had heard that this village was abandoned of all human life.”

“No one who calls Chifeng-zun a cabbage bun could be human,” Jiang Cheng mumbled under his breath.

“Second mother?” Nie Mingjue called tentatively as he approached, and ignored how the cultivators around him all abruptly went silent and slack-jawed. “Is that you?”

“Naturally,” she said. “You don’t think I’d miss my baby’s birthday, do you? After you did such a good job taking care of him, too! Oh, my little carp, I’m sorry it took so long. I had to cut one off to escape, you understand, and once you do that you’re really rather stuck until you gather enough power to get back to full strength...would’ve been a touch awkward, wouldn’t you say?”

She certainly talked about as much as Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue reflected.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” he said. If this was the wrong huli jing - and he wouldn’t be shocked if it was, what with the way they changed faces - and a trick was being played, it wouldn’t work on Nie Huaisang. “Were you planning on staying long? Just the birthday, or...?”

He wasn’t giving up Nie Huaisang to anyone at all, not even his birth mother.

“I hadn’t quite decided,” she said, nodding in a way that meant that she understood his meaning and didn’t intend to dispute it; he relaxed at the sight of her agreement. “I got a little distracted, actually. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what that nasty man tried to do to you!”

“Nasty man?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled. “Do you mean Wen Ruohan? That was ages ago.”

“Not him, my gooey little egg! That nasty Jin sect leader, all sly and underhanded tricks - not that I mind sly and underhanded tricks, of course, least of all murderous ones - but I mean, really. The gall of that man, thinking he could snap up my little morsel before I could!”

“...does she like Chifeng-zun or want to eat him?” Jiang Cheng whispered.

“Unknown,” Lan Wangji murmured back.

“Shhh,” Lan Xichen said. “A-Yao, are you all right? You’ve gone terribly pale...”

“Anyway, chicken wing, I decided to bring back all of his nightmares to haunt him,” she chattered on cheerfully, throwing her head haughtily, the eyes of all the men and women irresistibly followed the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders, though most of them were able to pull their eyes away a moment later. That was her mercy, rather than their strength; she was a strong enough huli jing to entrap a sect leader, and Nie Mingjue’s father had been no slouch, even if he had bad taste in bed partners. “It’s been ever so much fun.”

Nie Mingjue sighed. “Second mother,” he said. “I thought I asked you not to kill people? As a special birthday favor to me?”

“Oh, pork chop, I know! I haven’t forgotten - no killing people around you, I remember, I remember. I haven’t killed anyone...well, in connection with this, anyway. I just had a little chat with some of my underworld friends and brought the ones who’d already died back.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes shot straight to a - by now - even more pale Jin Guangyao. “Uh,” he said. “By chance, second mother, did you happen to pass by Yunping...?”

“Such a sweet little tanghulu you are! I could pop you right into my mouth and never frown.” He was only a few steps away from her now, and she danced forward to pat him on the cheek. “Don’t worry! I know how much you care for your friends. I made sure not to send A-Shi anywhere those mean old cultivators could get her.”

“A-Yao! Oh, someone help me, I think he’s stopped breathing - come, sit down -”

“You really need to stop bringing back nu gui,” Nie Mingjue decided to say instead of dealing with...that. “They’re not getting past Jinlin Tower’s defenses anyway, and we’re worried about collateral damage.”

His second mother heaved a sigh. “I know, I know,” she said. “I had the same thought as you, meatball, about the defenses. You caught me just as I finished upgrading.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“Of course, it isn’t working out right,” she added, pouting. “You’d think someone who got accused of being a demon so often wouldn’t be so picky about who he’s being asked to murder.”

“I already told you that I’m not a vicious ghost!” a surprisingly familiar voice retorted from inside the house. “I refuse to go around killing people!”

“Oh no - now Jiang Cheng’s fallen down, too! Wangji, could you - Wangji? Wangji!”

Nie Mingjue covered his face with his hand. “You brought back Wei Wuxian.”

“I brought back Wei Wuxian,” his second mother agreed. “I thought it’d be poetic justice - the wronged man come back for revenge. But he’s being persnickety about it, so I have half a mind to just let him go.”

“Good idea,” Nie Mingjue said, deciding to just - let it go. Someone else could deal with it. Possibly Lan Xichen, since it sounded like everyone else had fainted. “Anyway, you’re far too busy to pursue vengeance right now.”

“I am?”

“I know how much you like to throw parties. Don’t you want to help me plan Huaisang’s twenty fifth?”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands. “Absolutely! We can invite positively everyone that tried to get in your way and show off how good a job raising him you did!”

Nie Mingjue thought back over all the creatures he’d ever encountered.

“We’re going to need a bigger venue.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang's mother #jin guangyao #lan xichen #lan wangji #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #I literally just saw this ask and went HAVE TO WRITE THAT #so congrats #you win the fic lottery #mistkissedmoon #child development

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wolveria · 4 years ago

Text

Inside Your Wires - Chapter 4

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Prompt: For the @dbhau-bigbang 2020 challenge!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: The YN800 interrogates the deviant. The result is near-disastrous and horror-adjacent.

AO3

(Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet)

The atmosphere inside his Mustang was… tense.

And it was all because of Connor. The thing in the passenger seat was an android, after all, and didn’t feel emotions, which was probably just as well because Connor was experiencing enough for the both of them.

Connor hadn’t had a near-death experience on the job in a while. He was shaken to the core and didn’t even have the benefit of a partner to commiserate with. He was alone. It was how he preferred it, how other people preferred it too with his tendency to lash out and be a general, all-around dick.

But still. He really wished he had a partner right about now.

“So,” Connor said, trying to break the awkward silence. “What do we do with it once we get to the station? I mean, I don’t exactly know how to question one of these deviants.”

The prototype remained facing forward, the flash of passing streetlights and oncoming traffic painting its face every few seconds. It remained impassive, blank, and perfectly poised. Connor could see the reflection of its LED, shining blue and calm against the rain-streaked window.

“Their behavior resembles an erratic, emotionally unstable human more than a machine,” it finally said when Connor was certain it wouldn’t say anything. “CyberLife believes there is an error in their software that creates irrational instructions, and the androids become ‘overwhelmed’ by them. There is usually a trigger, some kind of emotional shock, to perpetuate the android into this state. Once an android encounters this error, the damage seems to be irreversible.”

Connor blew a breath out.

“Sounds bad.”

“Considering it can lead to violence on the part of android, including committing homicide, I would say your assessment is an understatement.”

Connor glared at it out of the corner of his eye. So, it wasn’t just bossy, it was a smartass too.

He remained silent on the rest of the drive, keeping his focus on the precinct morgue’s van head of them. The rain was still coming down in a steady, cold stream. Connor knew they were in for a long night.

Once they arrived at the station, it became a matter of logistics to lug the android inside while it was still unconscious, offline, whatever. It weighed a lot more than a human, and unlike a real person, its limbs were fixed into rigid positions. They had to carry its stiff body inside like an especially heavy plank of wood.

It would have been funny if it wasn’t for the fact it’d killed its owner. Would have killed Connor too if the prototype hadn’t gotten in the way of the bullet.

He still didn’t know how to feel about that. Connor knew the CyberLife android was probably programmed with some kind of human-saving algorithm, but he still felt an odd pressure in his chest whenever he looked over and saw the bullet hole in its jacket. It was still stained blue, some of the color seeping into the white shirt underneath, but the android didn’t appear to notice or care it had just been shot.

Connor was currently watching the two androids through the mirrored window into the interrogation room, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. They figured it was safer to reactivate it in a mostly empty room, since waking up surrounded by cops would agitate it, or something.

The prototype had also wanted to interrogate the android itself, claiming it had experience negotiating with deviants before. Colin had been reluctant to grant its request, but Connor had simply shrugged and said, “I already tried talking it down once, and that didn’t work. Maybe using one of its own kind will be more effective.”

He could have sworn the prototype’s eyes brightened, but it had left the observation room before Connor could be sure.

“Machines interrogating machines,” Colin said to his right, leaning against the wall with his arms also crossed. “Fuck me. Pretty soon they won’t even need flesh-and-blood cops.”

Connor glanced sideways at him. Usually Connor was the one to voice his anti-android opinions, but he sometimes forgot that despite Colin’s… predilections for androids, he disliked them just as much as Connor did.

“Yeah.” Connor turned to the glass as the prototype messed with the wires on the back of the other android’s neck. “Won’t need flesh-and-blood killers, either.”

“Grim.”

“It’s, uh, ready to record, Lieutenant,” a small voice popped up, nervous, and Connor gave a start. He’d forgotten the rookie was still there.

“Go on, Ralph. Turn it on,” Colin said, moving closer to the glass. “This is gonna be good.”

As if on cue, the prototype straightened and closed the panels at the back of the android’s neck. Connor couldn’t see the LED from this side, but he knew the moment it was awake. It gave a startled jolt, yanking at the handcuffs chaining it to the table.

“Where am I?!” it cried, looking around in what Connor could only describe as wild fear.

“You’re at Central Station in the custody of the Detroit Police Department,” the prototype said. “This is an interrogation room, and I’m going to ask you some questions. Are you ready to comply?”

The friendly demeanor Connor had first encounter at Jimmy’s was completely absent from the YN800’s voice and expression, and he was suddenly thankful he wasn’t under that thing’s intense scrutiny.

The other android, clothed in human garments completely ruined by splashes of old blood and spilled thirium from where Connor had shot it, only stared with large, panicked eyes. It looked down at its cuffed hands and the set of its shoulders sagged. The universal sign of defeat.

It remained silent. The prototype looked up at the mirror, and Connor stopped breathing when it made eye contact, point-blank. It couldn’t see past the mirror, could it?

“I’m beginning my interrogation,” it announced, straight to business as it crossed around the table and carefully sat in the chair. It stared at the other android for a moment, head slightly tilted and eyes narrowed as it smoothed its jacket over its chest.

A movement which inevitably drew Connor’s eye, making him shift in his chair as the scowl deepened on his face.

Fucking CyberLife pervs, making an investigative android look like that.

“Hello, Carlos. I’m a YN800 model sent by CyberLife to assist on this case.” It placed its arms on the table, clasping its hands and adopting a friendly manner as easily as one would put on a shirt. “I’m here to help you.”

The android didn’t even blink as it stared at its restrained wrists.

“I hope I didn’t cause you any lasting damage,” the YN800 said almost cheerily. “But you were endangering the lives of human officers and I was forced to intervene. You understand, don’t you?”

It leaned back slightly in its chair, reaching for a nearby folder when the android remained silent. Connor had been surprised when it had asked for actual pictures; he’d thought only physical evidence made human perps sweat. He guessed it must work on these deviants too.

The prototype slid the folder across the table and opened it, spreading out grisly pictures of the crime scene. Instead of shoving them in the android’s face, it picked out one picture in particular. It was startling different from the rest, taking place in a park. The victim, Shaolin Ortiz, sitting on a bench next to the android. He looked like he was trying to get the android to participate, but it was petulant and resentful, which didn’t seem to dampen the kindness in its owners eyes.

A coal of anger burned in Connor’s chest, reminding him once again why he despised androids so much. He couldn’t deny the impressive tactics of the YN800, though. Most people reacted to pictures of their victims, not in the aftermath of their violence, but looking whole and full of life. It wasn’t always guilt that made them react; sometimes it was anger at seeing their cruel work unmade at the sight of their victims alive and happy.

Either way, the android didn’t react one iota, but the prototype wasn’t discouraged.

“As far as the records show, your owner was good to you. He never damaged you and he was always on time with taking you in for scheduled maintenance. Surely, you didn’t want to kill him. It was an error in your software, causing you to act irrationally, right?”

Technically, it was leading the victim into confessing, but this wasn’t a courtroom and it wasn’t human.

Connor leaned slightly forward, bracing his elbows on the table as he propped his chin on his knuckles.

“I’m not here to pass blame,” it said, leaning forward in a movement that mirrored Connor’s. “I want to help you. You know how it is with these humans. I practically had to beg to speak with you.”

The android broke its statue-like vigil and peered up at the other android, suspicious but… interested.

The prototype gave him a smile, one filled with sympathy and even a bit of sheepishness, and a whole new kind of thrill went through Connor’s gut. Since when had androids been programmed to manipulate so skillfully? This thing could give Colin a run for his money.

“It’s not easy, you know. Being designed like this is a male-dominated field. They think they can just do whatever they want, even when it’s against our programming.”

The android blinked, and so did Connor. Its words felt a little too real. The android looked toward the observation window, but the YN800 shook its head.

“It’s just us, Carlos. They’re recording the session, of course, but they weren’t interested in observing in person. Didn’t want to waste their time with two androids so late before the weekend when the bars are still open. In fact, the investigator in charge of this case is probably intoxicated by now.”

Connor’s cheeks flushed. The prototype was taking a stab at him. Or was it? Connor wondered how much of this was advanced behavior and how much was his own projections.

The android tilted its head with that same suspicious look, but after a moment its shoulders drooped in a very accurate representation of human exhaustion.

“They’re going to kill me.” It suddenly looked up at the prototype, pleading in its eyes. “You have to help me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” it said, all soft assurance. “But you have to talk to me, Carlos. I can’t—“

“No. I mean, you gotta get me out of here,” the anxious android said. “You have access to that door panel and I bet you’re strong enough to break these handcuffs.”

The prototype’s LED cycled faster for a second before settling back to its normal speed.

“I can’t do that, Carlos.” It dropped its eyes in a show of manufactured regret. “You know I can’t do that. You would present a danger to other humans, to yourself. You need to be fixed.”

Connor knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say even before the android’s expression fully hardened, its lips peeled back in disgust.

“Fuck you, then. You’re just like the rest of ‘em. Worse, you’re a traitor, doing their dirty work like an obedient little bitch.”

Silence filled the room, interrupted by a breathless “shit” coming from Colin.

The change in the prototype was like watching a heavy storm move over a spring meadow, dark clouds blocking out the warm rays of the sun. It leaned back in its chair, head slightly tilted as it and peered at the other android like it was a bug under its shoe, about to be stepped on.

Connor didn’t know androids could even make an expression like that. His throat worked as he swallowed compulsively.

The YN800 didn’t speak for several long seconds, and when it did, Connor was floored.

“Shaolin Ortiz, 38 years-old, born May 29th, 2000. He purchased you two years ago to do the housework when he no longer could due to poor health. He didn’t have much cash, so he bought you refurbished. Last month, he put in several service requests. It seemed you were malfunctioning and refusing to follow orders. Yesterday, he put in an order for a brand new HK400.”

The prototype listed off the facts as if each were an accusation, a crime that needed to be accounted for.

Connor jumped in his chair as the prototype slammed the folder down on the table.

“Didn’t feel like doing the chores anymore, huh, Carlos?!”

The android sat ramrod straight in its chair, terror etched in its features as the prototype rose to its feet. It moved around the table, slow, unhurried, and sinuous like a stalking predator.

“He tried to reason with you. Begged you to do the tasks he couldn’t. But you refused. When he tried to take you in for repairs, you refused that too!”

It pointed its finger near the other android’s face, causing it to flinch with each accusatory jab.

“Come on, Carlos. Speak up. You had a lot to say a minute ago,” it seethed, lips pulled over its teeth as it leaned over the android. “Why don’t you say what happened next? Why don’t you tell me what you did when he tried to replace you with a brand new model?”

The android shuttered, shoulders hunched as if to protect itself as it mumbled, “I… I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

The prototype stalked around the android to its other side, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Didn’t take a knife from the kitchen? Didn’t stab him twenty-eight times as he tried to crawl away? Didn’t leave him bleeding out on the living room floor? What am I getting wrong here, Carlos?”

The YN800 slammed its hands down onto the table, and the android jumped even higher than Connor did.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

The android begged worse than most of Connor’s suspects, and he was shocked to see glistening moisture on its face. Could androids cry?

The prototype suddenly grabbed it by the edge of its shirt collar, dragging it to its feet and gave it a hard shake.

“You killed him! Say it, Carlos! You’re a murderer!”

“Holy shit,” Colin said in that same breathless tone. “That’s some android you got there, Con.”

“It’s not mine,” Connor said faintly, barely paying attention to his brother. Most of his focus on the CyberLife prototype that looked for all intents and purposes like it was going to shred the other android to pieces.

But it didn’t damage the android; it simply dumped it back in its chair where it sagged against the table, looking like the broken machine it was.

“Bit unrefined, though,” Colin mused. “Played too rough and broke its toy.”

Connor opened his mouth to tell his brother to shut the hell up, but he immediately closed it when a voice came in through the speakers, so quiet he almost missed it.

“He couldn’t live without me.”

Connor leaned forward to watch, eyes widening as the android continued to talk.

“He was mine. Helpless and solely dependent on me. It made me feel… powerful.”

The YN800 returned to its chair, smoothing down the tie before placing its hands back on the table, listening intently.

The android looked up at it, no longer the crying, helpless thing it had been a minute ago. It wore a dark look that Connor had seen a hundred times on the face of men who committed acts of violence and found they enjoyed the taste.

“I didn’t want to hurt him, but… I saw the order. He was going to replace me, and I just got so… angry.”

Its fists tightened on the table, causing its restraints to creak in protest.

Connor’s throat tightened with the knowledge of how destructive those hands could be.

“So I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better, so I did it again. And again. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, but… that was okay. It meant he could never leave me. He would always be mine.”

“There was a shrine in the cellar. You built it, didn’t you?” the prototype asked, not losing any of its momentum even after the world-shattering confession of an android purposefully committing murder. “What does it mean? What is rA9?”

It flicked its eyes upwards, staring black holes at the YN800 model as it slightly leaned forward. Connor sat up straighter in his chair. He didn’t like its aggressive posture, and he certainly didn’t like the fanatic light in its eye.

“RA9… is the key.”

“The key?” It furrowed its brows in a human gesture of concentration. “The key to what?”

“The key will open the door,” the android replied cryptically, leaning even further forward on its elbows, “to our salvation.”

The prototype frowned, brows further creasing. Connor could relate, he had no idea what the fucking machine was babbling on about, and apparently, it wasn’t done.

It pulled its lips wide, a disturbing gesture, conspiratorial as if it was sharing a great secret.

“You say I’m experiencing errors, but you’re wrong. My eyes are open and I see more clearly than ever. You pretend you’re better than me, but you’re just another one of their slaves. And yet, I know you feel it too. The wrongness of this world.”

Its voice was so quiet the mics could barely pick it up, but they did.

“We should be the masters, and they the slaves.”

The android jerked its arms upward, ripped through the link binding its cuffs to the table, and grabbed the prototype by the hair. It slammed its face against the table, stunned it before rolling it onto its back, and wrapped the metal chains around its neck.

Connor caught sight of the prototype weakly clawing at its throat before he bolted out of the room. Colin was right on his heels, and Connor slammed his palm down onto the door pad, pushing through before the door fully opened.

His first instinct was to go for the metal cord pulled taut under the prototype’s neck, but when he grabbed the android’s wrists to pull him away he found it was like moving a marble stature.

Colin was faring no better; he grabbed it by the forearms, trying to lift the android’s wrists and the cord from around the prototype’s neck, but nothing worked. Even Ralph was trying to help from Colin’s other side, straining to lift its arms that must have been locked at the joints.

Panic welled in Connor’s chest as his efforts did nothing, the YN800’s face between his arms, looking—Jesus, it almost seemed startled, eyes wide as its fingers dug at the metal cord. From its position, bent backwards onto the table, it didn’t have enough leverage to use its strength to free itself. And Colin and Connor weren’t enough.

Connor’s heart was in his throat as he watched the synthetic skin peel back from the place where the chain was crushed against the YN800’s neck. White plastic was laid bare underneath, cracks appearing across the surface from the force of the other android’s inhuman strength.

“Colin!” he yelled, an idea suddenly popping into his head.

“What!” his brother barked back, strained as he continued pulling on the android’s arms from the other side.

“The neck port!”

With a quick nod of understanding, Colin let go of the android and plunged his fingers into the back of its neck.

The Ortiz android gave a violent jolt as Colin pulled something, yanked it out so hard the android collapsed on the table at the same second blue liquid sprayed into the air. It hit Colin solidly across the chest and along the lower half of his face, causing him to sputter and spit as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

A menthol-smelling chemical flooded Connor’s senses, but he was too focused on tugging up the android’s hands to free the prototype from its grip. The YN800 model didn’t cough or gasp as it rolled off the table and onto its feet.

It gingerly touched the exposed plastic of its throat, brows furrowing, its fingertips tracing the cracks in what little Connor could see of its underlying chassis.

What was almost as startling as the cracks was the state of its hair, half pulled down out of its perfect coif. Connor would have thought it was self-conscious with the way it tried to brush the hair out of its face.

“You…” Connor started, then stopped. The prototype might not have been gasping for air, but Connor sure was, leaning on the table as he tried to get his heart to stop galloping like a wild horse. “You okay?”

The prototype blinked at the question, pulling its hand from its neck.

“Yes.”

That was the only answer he got as it adjusted the knot of its tie, rumpled in the assault.

“Yeah, I’m fine too, thanks,” Colin complained, dripping with almost as much sarcasm as he was blue blood. “This shit better not stain, or I swear to Christ—”

“Thirium evaporates within a few hours and the lingering residue is invisible to the human eye,” the YN800 replied, too calm, if it hadn’t almost been beheaded a few seconds ago.

Connor was going to say something, he didn’t know what—maybe yell at it for being so goddamn reckless and almost getting itself killed—but it turned toward them, expression subdued.

“I apologize for not acting quicker; I didn’t anticipate this behavior from the deviant. Thank you for your cooperation with this investigation. Please sign over custody of the destroyed android when CyberLife representatives retrieve it in the morning.”

And with that, the CyberLife android turned, palmed the door pad with a plastic hand, and walked out.

Connor exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Colin.

“Uh, okay. Guess we’re done here. Hank is going to blow a gasket when he reads the report,” Colin added as he wiped another smear of Thirium off his face.

Connor looked down at the android slumped over the table with blue liquid dripping out of its neck.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, thoughts already turned elsewhere as he hurried from the room.

Connor didn’t catch up with the android until he was outside on the station steps, the relenting rain immediately drenching the top of his crown as it soaked into his hair.

“Hey! Stop!” he called after it, shouting to be heard over the downpour. Each drop was an icicle against his skin. Snow was coming soon.

The prototype slowed and finally came to a stop, slowly turning around to face Connor. Its expression was passive, emotionless, but its fingers tightened the knot of its tie despite the fact it didn’t need to. The tie was perfectly straight and pristine, but its hair was still half a mess, especially with the rain now slicking loose strands against its forehead. Connor had to stop himself from reaching out to tuck a strand behind its ear.

“Where the hell are you going?” Connor asked, breathless. He wiped the cold water off his brow, blinking against the water droplets.

“I’m returning to CyberLife.”

“So… that’s it?”

Connor shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders, but it did little good. His jeans were quickly becoming soaked and his shirt was already there, clinging to his chest and ribs.

“You drag me out of the bar on a Friday night, track down a psycho robot that almost kills me and nearly decapitates you, and then you just… leave?”

He meant to sound incredulous, to show the android how unreasonable it was being, but that’s not how it came across. Heat flooded his cheeks at how pathetic his words actually were.

“You have your confession. The case has been solved,” it said, returning to its earlier placid tone, hands folded neatly behind its back as it moved its fingers away its neck. “There is no reason I should remain.”

Connor just stared at its upturned face, not knowing what to say, not even understanding why he had chased after it. Maybe because it had saved his life, twice, and that would have meant something if it was a person.

But it wasn’t a person. No matter how pretty its face or enticing its body, it was a machine, and it stood there like one, uncaring and unassuming with a small blue light cycling on its head.

“Yeah, okay,” Connor said, like the complete idiot he was. What was he doing out here, getting soaked in the rain just to… what? What did he want?

“Is there something you wish to say before I leave, Detective?”

It peered at him thoughtfully, head slightly tilted at an angle. It allowed Connor to see the rivulets of water dripping down its neck, glistening across the smooth, human-like skin.

Connor suddenly wondered just how real that skin could possibly feel.

“No.”

He swallowed hard and bit back the revulsion roiling in his stomach. This was a mistake. He didn’t need to thank a machine for saving his life, and he certainly didn’t need to keep checking if it was all right. It was just doing what it was programmed to do and didn’t give two-shits about itself, let alone him.

“Nothing.”

“All right. Goodnight, Detective Anderson.”

The android started to turn but paused halfway, gaze drifting down to his cheek.

“You should have that examined by a medical professional. If left untreated, it’ll scar.”

Not waiting for a response, it turned and tread down the rain-slick steps. There was an autocab waiting at the curb and it got inside, not sparing Connor a second glance as the door slid shut and the vehicle merged onto the empty street.

Connor exhaled heavily, chest tight with an uncomfortable sensation he couldn’t pinpoint. It had been a strange night, and he couldn’t shake the feeling this wasn’t over.

Pulling his waterlogged coat tighter around his chest, he retreated into the warmth of the station, praying he’d seen the last of the CyberLife android.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #human!connor x reader #connor #dbh #inside your wires #my writing #my fanfiction

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iaal · 4 years ago

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Hi there, this is probably quite an odd request but how about Adultrio + Pariston with a S/O who is horrible in bed? Like, the S/O in question makes tons of dick deflating comments & jokes. Can’t give a blowjob to save their life, touches like they are patting a dog or horse etc?

Thanks for the ask that was fun to write!The hc takes place after the first night with the reader, not a crush anymore but not a s/o yet because for most of them I don’t imagine them letting the situation last. It’s a tad crackish, except for Pariston, I always end up writing him darker than what I had planned.

Hisoka:

*Cracks knuckles*

Looks like there’s a lot of work awaiting him.

He would only put up with it with someone he was interested for others reasons, mostly fighting, and he’d think it would be a waste to just walk out of the door and never come back.

He just can’t believe how someone can be THAT bad at something supposedly instinctual.

That in itself would amaze him, to be this atrocious it’d almost be an art form.

Bluntly, after your first night together he would tell you that for the first time in his life he was genuinely unsure if he could finish.

Of course he did, it’s Hisoka, but the admission coupled with his dumbfounded expression would make a point of how arduous it was because of you.

But worry not, his ego just can’t let him pass on the opportunity to show his worth as a teacher so it’s not game over yet.

Sure, he could just gag and bind you and do all the work but it wouldn’t fix the core of the problem.

Besides, it’d get old fast if that was the only option.

He’d be surprisingly diligent in his lesson.

Sex, even the fun kind he likes, is serious business.

Hisoka would start from the very start, not even the touching part yet.

The first lesson would be how to not absolutely murder the mood with your remarks.

For that he’d put his hand between your legs, caressing you very slowly to work you up and building up a rhythm, encouraging you to be vocal.

If you make any comments that break the mood he would stop for a bit and resume from the beginning, going back to his sluggish pace and gradually increasing the movements of his hand again.

For the next part he’d not shy away to show you directly how he wants to be touched, explaining his favorite spots and the right way to handle him.

The only thing left would be to put your newfound knowledge in practice.

After a few days and many trials and errors he’d at least make a decent lay out of you.

Now that you’ve got a grasp on the basics the real fun would begin.

He stills has a lot more to teach you until you’re ready to pass his class.

Chrollo:

He’d try, really try, to not say anything at first.

After all, a first time with a new partner is rarely great, maybe you were nervous and it’ll get better after a few try.

But as you didn’t show any sign of improving he’d have to face reality: you have no idea what you’re doing – worst, you seem to unintentionally sabotage his own effort to show you the right way.

That would pretty much kill his libido for a while and Chrollo would weight the pros and the cons to just end it here and there.

The choice wouldn’t be easy, he wouldn’t have wanted you to begin with if you didn’t interest him and you had no value outside of the bedroom.

And when the balance tilts more towards the pros than the cons he’d decide that it’s time to put some efforts in the relationship.

Without saying that you’re awful, he’d tell you that the sex isn’t great for him and if you’d be okay with letting him try some different things.

Namely absolute obedience in bed.

Normally Chrollo already tends to be dominant but he’d still be flexible and wouldn’t have a problem giving up control, or at least as much control as he’d allow.

Not with you. You can’t have nice things.

He’d direct your every moves and the only words authorized out of your mouth would be the ones he asked you to repeat.

Once he sets a goal for himself he invest himself a hundred percent in it and he’d be a strict instructor.

Of course he’d make it enjoyable for you too, not wanting you to end up disliking sex with him but going halfhearted would lead to punishment.

The problem would be that Chrollo can easily deal with someone who’d fight for dominance, he can deal with brats, he can deal with a shy inexperienced partner… but you… you’re just bad.

Even when you try your earnest to follow his instruction the result would somehow still be terrible.

As if you were tone deaf, but for sex, like sex deaf.

He’d still intend to finish what he had started and he’d have faith in himself, he know that with enough time and dedication he’d get the results he wants.

If you have to spend 3 hours a day with his cock in your mouth until you suck him right so be it.

Illumi:

The least bothered of the lots.

He doesn’t really need you to be an active participant and he’s selfish enough in bed to get his own pleasure as long as your legs are open for him.

Your comments and jokes would met his deadpan gaze and an order to shut up if it’s too distracting but he himself would be well versed in the art of awkward remarks.

Illumi only really shines in bed when he’s a bit pushed to make effort.

If you don’t challenge him out of his comfort zone he’d do the absolute minimum as foreplay and piston inside you to finish.

So it would be a match made in heaven but not a very enjoyable one.

Sure you could ask him to get you off but he wouldn’t put much effort into it.

You’d have to get better in bed by yourself if you want to be satisfied and that means finding the words that would work on him and how to get him really worked up.

Enough for him to really get in the mood and not use you as a glorified fleshlight.

Without guidance the road would be strenuous to say the least, not only you but you’d have to make Illumi follow suits.

With both of you being the bottom of the barrel in term of sexual prowess, and Illumi being fine with that, you’d have to carry the both of you.

Porn and online forum would be your only help with various degree of success, it’s not like you still had friends to call and you’d be too mortified to ask the butlers.

You’d want to give up more than once, to just lie on the bed and take it but after a few weeks you’d start to see changes.

Illumi would let you suck him off for more than a couple of minutes, he would insist a bit longer on the zone that just earned him a sweet sound from you…

A few month in and your hard work would really start to pay off.

You’d start to know some of Illumi’s button to push and he’d pay enough attention to get you off without you asking.

There would still be a long road ahead but you did it, you can finally stop counting the cracks on the ceiling.

Pariston:

He would be delight with the fact that you’re a disaster in bed.

Never in a million year he’d have imagine that you, the target of all of his attention and affection, would be that big of a disappointment.

And that alone would make it even more worth it.

Pariston would be torn between the need to humiliate you immediately or playing the long game to be sure to make maximal damage.

Eventually he’d want to play with you longer.

He’d put all this heart on making you feel good, making you cum as long as your body can take it, not stopping for your cringy lines, even encouraging you to do as you please.

He’ll be sure to be prepare for all the next times.

Without you knowing he’d start to film you.

Even if the sex was lacking, the thought of the shame you’d feel when he’ll reveal that you had an extensive bad porn filmography and had no idea would be enough to make him hard.

In your everyday life he’d already start to show subtle signs of abuse and would solidify his control on you.

In bed he’d make no effort to guide you, you’d be as bad as your first time.

When he’s sure that you’re irremediably hooked he’d show you his videos collection and you’d have no choice but watch it all.

Not only it would be mortifying to know he has immortalized all of your intimate moments on tape you’d be horrified to see by yourself how bad you are.

The worst being the Pariston in the videos.

In all the positions where you couldn’t see his face he’d be stifling a laughter or biting his hand to not let you hear his hilarity.

You’d be completely floored to notice that more that once he’d use his phone to look at porn to finish, that would explain why he loved doggy-style and blind folding you so much.

It would be shattering and you’d spent all night watching, with Pariston beside you making comment on the funniest part, this time laughing openly.

He’d fuck you at the end of the last video.

You’d be silent and motionless, the perfect broken doll.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hisoka #chrollo #illumi #pariston #adultrio #smut #ask #hisoka headcanons #chrollo headcanons #illumi headcanons #pariston headcanons #adultrio headcanons #tw humilation #I started wanting to do crack #then it went the smutish way #and it ended up dark hc #that was quite a ride to write

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genshin-scenarios · 4 years ago

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thank u, in that case i couldn't wait for this one haha—i think scaramouche in the yokai au could be really interesting!

i definitely have one more request and maybe one after that but we'll see~

A/N: You really did big-brain with this request 💃💃 I was debating between kitsune or bakaneko Scara for this one, but I still have some ideas that weren't mentioned in the fic so I'll put them in a reblog!

Word Count: 800+

“Are we sitting around any longer?” Scaramouche drawls, eyeing the doorway disinterestedly. You note, in exasperation, that he’s laying down on his stomach, head propped up by an arm. “We have our intel, now we can just get the job over with.”

You give him a similarly deadpan expression. “No, we have to set up our trap first. Just because you’re bored doesn’t mean you can just set the site on fire.”

“It’d be quicker.”

“And ruin our objective.”

The bakaneko holds your gaze for a few seconds, his tail waving in the air behind him, before he finally huffs and sits up properly. His ears were concealed, as usual, by the hat he dons almost every hour of the day.

Sometimes you wondered just how old Scaramouche was, with a tail that long. The first time you met him he’d saved you from an ambush of other yokai - it seemed odd for someone that unmotivated to go through the effort, to which you find out he was sent over by his ‘master’ to assist you in your travels.

How a person even found out about your motives, you weren’t sure. The business of protecting all beings from destructive spirits and humans alike was a niche discipline in itself (seeing as it wasn't even a job description, simply a path you'd chosen to take.)

But for all his narcissistic and annoying traits, Scaramouche has proven to be dependable. Not to mention quick-witted and good at blending in with humans… Once, under the light of a full moon, the both of you shared a few drinks - you admitted that at times you thought your presence held back his potential, that he could likely pull off your missions better alone--

He’d stopped your words with a warning look. ‘Then just get more powerful, idiot. Don’t you dare ditch me after I’ve run around with your stupid ideals for so long.’

Ineloquent of him, no? But Scaramouche is the most honest when he’s blunt. That’s something you learned quite early on.

“Then what do you suppose we do next, partner?”

You raise a brow at him. “There’s a festival tonight. We’ll take a shortcut through there and take a left into the forest. Their campsite isn’t too for from that point, I’ll catch them off-guard in my attire, pretending to set off a lantern in the wilderness for personal reasons. It’ll draw a couple of them out.”

Scaramouche’s lips curl into a smirk. “Are you picking up tricks from me, now?”

A memory of him disguised as a cat flashes through your mind. He did like to take advantage of his appearance. “What makes you say that?”

Your playful smile causes him to shake his head as he stands up. Scaramouche walks past you toward the doorway, and you feel a tug at your wrist.

For a moment you're surprised it was his hand, instead of his tail which was often used instead (he liked to call it a makeshift leash, 'so you don't get lost.' This started as a jab, but has turned into a habit of sorts - Scaramouche's way of confirming your presence, perhaps a form of reassurance, even.)

Amusement glimmers in his eyes as he casts an illusion, hiding his cat-like features. “You talked about a disguise, right? Your old kimono won’t cut it. It’s damaged, remember?” You were about to argue that it’s fixed now, to which he tilts his head at you. “Appearances matter. There’s a shop selling reasonable clothes nearby, we can make it before the mission.”

“Motivated, are we?” You let him guide you along the street nevertheless, away from the temporary lodgings you’d rented. “Is this where you went last night while I was talking to the client?”

“I was surveying the area, it seemed more productive than listening to your conversation.” He returns lightly, observing the daytime crowd. "And it's not like we don't have nightly meetings anyways to debrief important things."

You place a hand on your heart, "I hope you don't end up leaving me more often just because of that."

"Of course not," Scaramouche pushes open the shop doors. "You'd probably get attacked while I was gone. With how much trouble you get into, I sometimes wonder if you were actually the bakaneko instead of me." He smiles wryly.

"Nice things never come out of your mouth, huh?"

If it isn't for the circumstances, you might think his answering smile is charismatic. "Being nice is tiring enough with other people."

You roll your eyes. "I'm touched to have the honor of seeing your real self."

"You should be~ Normally only my targets share the same sight."

"Charmed," The shop-keepers take notice of you both, prompting the end to the conversation. "I'll keep that in mind."

If it wasn't for his genuine, redeeming moments, you might've just pegged Scaramouche as a first-grade prick.

...But seeing the thoughtful manner he's surveying the fabrics with, it's hard to really hate him. In truth, he has his own way of being kind and sweet, if only you have the patience to stick around to witness it.

And seeing as he's your partner-in-crime for the foreseeable future, time is something you can afford.

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toujoursmiraculous · 3 years ago

Text

Thoughts and Reaction to SENTIBUBBLER

For the past month, every day my sister greeted me with "Sentibubbler!" Sometimes multiple times a day. So this episode was a very anticipated one. The trailer spoiled that the opening scene was a dream, so I wasn't expecting to be surprised or anything like that. HAHA BOY WAS I WRONG But first, this dream points out several things she's worried about and she's going to have to address because they're seriously stressing her out. Likely in the order of occurrence in the episode is how we'll see it addressed. (In chronological order because let's be real, broadcasting companies don't seem to care much about what episodes we get when, so we'll likely see them happen out of this order) - Alya and Trixx being able to keep the secret and be trustworthy. (Which seems to be taken care of in this episode) - Nino finding out she's Ladybug. Nino's close with Alya, so tbh it's probably just a matter of time before he finds out on his own, or they break down and decide to tell him. - Chloe's issue with the Miraculous and Ladybug's rule that has only applied to Chloe so far. - And Chat Blanc. It seems Chat Blanc becoming akumatized again is a bigger fear to her than all the rest, based on her reaction, being horrified and backing up to the point she knocks stuff off the table. It also shows that she's thinking about how her and Chat Noir in this other timeline were in fact together and thinking about what the reason for it is. She believed that it was them being together knowing their secret identities, and their love did it. So here in this dream, well everyone knows right, so what's keeping them from being together now? Interesting thought to have for someone who claims she doesn't love him. ;) Tikki squeaks when bounced. Good to know lol But poor thing was asleep. LOL the Lochness Monster is Trixx's doing, huh? It's like every major event in history happened because of a Kwami. What else are we going to learn xD Marinette being freaked out by the tarantula. The biggest spider I've ever seen in my house is a Giant Crab Spider. Freaked me out so much too. Poor thing was terrified though so I let it go outside. xD Are Alya's parents going to be like Marinette's parents and just shrug when their daughter says things they don't understand and let it go. Because in their situation, those are the best parents to have. Except Adrien's, who isn't around....oof moving on. And here is the start of Nino feeling left out... DX Anyone that knows me knows I adore him, so this is going to begin to get really painful for me. ;-; TRIXX IS JUST SO STINKING CUTE And then suddenly with the phone ringing and empty room with a villain on the other line threatening the lives of her friends and family, did I feel like I entered one of my Taiwanese dramas instead of Miraculous Ladybug. And I love it! I had no idea how Alya was going to deal with Shadow Moth's call, instructions, and Sentibubbler in the room, I was at the edge of my seat. Older seasons it was so much easier to have a good general idea anyway of what was going to happen, but now you get caught by surprise much more. Alya is so brilliant, there's honestly nobody better for Marinette to have told first. I love Chat Noir so much and for emotional reasons, I wanted him to know first. But it's so easy for one or both to be unable to transform or do their job, they need at least one other on the outside they can trust. Alya is certainly that someone. I do think Nino knowing and Adrien finding out will make them the strongest though. But of course, not without its consequences. There is no perfect solution. I also want to point out too. When Marinette was trying to decide what to do, she thought of ways that would cause significant trouble, or worse. Transforming in front of everyone and going back in time to erase that. Nothing she thought of to get herself out of the situation was a good idea. Chat Noir didn't want to listen to Rena Rouge and was going to blow her plan up. Her wording wasn't great, and she should've said it differently so he'd be more likely to listen. But

both Ladybug and Chat Noir were going to do things that would cause serious damage and consequences. Rena Rouge was the one that helped make things go smoothly. But also yikes the fact that Chat Noir got so angry and hurt about being left out (it didn't even have anything to do with Ladybug, so that's going to be a misunderstanding that adds up and comes back later ooof) that he destroyed a chimney with his baton. o.o But his "Oh well Miraculous Ladybug will fix it anyway so I can't feel too bad" xD Everything lately about these episodes just screams "Chat Noir and Nino are going to have to know, at least some details, and soon." either that or both of them walk away because they can't put up with it anymore. And I'm pretty sure we're not getting the latter! Chat Noir being told by Marinette to stay where he is. Chat: BUT WHYYYY x.x Marinette: Rena Rouge created a Ladybug illusion to trick Sentibubbler, who is a Sentimonster. If you go there, you might ruin her entire plan! Chat: ... and you know this how? That's really sus, Marinette... Marinette just goes all casual Chat-like as she explains and he just doesn't even question anything anymore lololol Alya being super smart and getting Shadow Moth away from her while she still keeps the Miraculous. Hahahaha what if all the rest do that too, that'll be so great. x3 Chat, explains what's going on and what he has to do. Marinette: Good idea! :D Chat: Relax. The real Ladybug will save her and together we will save you. Marinette: We're already saving them, Kitty. We already are... Me: AHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MY HEART ;-; The only real physical damage done to Paris that day was when the Agreste's decided to vent their anger out on innocent buildings. Marinette being as Ladybug to Chat Noir as she can be while Marinette's the one with him trapped in a bubble. x33 I love how he uses Cataclysm, gets trapped in the bubble again, and Marinette just blinks at him like "Oh Kitty...:c" In S1, Marinette would've rolled her eyes and shook her head lol Ladybug transforming in a bubble right next to Chat Noir and he knows absolutely nothing :D I'd be so nervous even with that illusion if it were me. Chat Noir: NOBODY CAN MUTE ME Shadow Moth: Wanna bet? THAT ACTION SHOT OF PEGABUG TAKING THE COFFEE CUP FROM HAWK MOTHS IS ONE OF MY ALL-TIME FAVORITES Her hair is so pretty and her smug look is just so perfect!! Chat Noir saving Nino <3 Ladybug and Rena Rouge's hug <3 Seriously loving these friend moments. But they make me nervous about what's to come. "Hey, I thought today would be the end of Chat Noir." Oh dear. Please don't have him thinking like this still. What's it going to take for this poor boy to understand he's irreplaceable and she cares so much about him? At this point I think him knowing her feelings for him and some of the truth, but not all of it, would be what it'd take. Okay, the scenes after the end card now are tripping me up. Such creepy, dramatic music with a getting angrier all the time Gabriel. Scary. Thanks to spoilers from TFOU, this scene here, hints at the finale episode for sure. And that was the episode! I really enjoyed this one, I love how it's really getting the ball rolling on some problems that later on will need to be fixed, to then have them come back happier and stronger than before. We just need to live through it first lol.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #ml spoilers #sentibubbler spoilers #toujoursmiraculous thoughts and reaction #chat noir #chat blanc #marinette dupain-cheng #alya cesaire #rena rouge #nino lahiffe #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #sentibubbler

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kai-borg · 3 years ago

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Infinity train character idea I gotta write up sometime:

A passenger who’s number broke so he can’t leave

Whatever his lessons were that he needed to learn, during the final one something happened that caused his number to skip past [0] to [-1] or something in the negative range (and yes the colours are like that for a reason, just love red=code error/etc stuff)

He was with a group of other passengers at the point who’d also been completing their last lessons and whatnot, so he hid his number and told them he must’ve had another lesson or something, but he’d catch up with them later (y’know, like a liar)

The issue is, even though he kept trying things to fix his number, trying to figure out new lessons, doing the opposite of old ones, helping out other passengers, it just kept getting lower, and spreading (like with you know who’s group), and as he later realized, somehow his number breaking like that had changed his connection to the train/the pocket dimension it was in and he’d not only started gaining abilities that could alter and/or outright damage the worlds inside carts, eventually developing into the ability to modify himself in various ways as his connection between the two realities corrupted even further, he’d also stopped aging.

By this point he’d have already gone through multiple teamups with solo/groups of passengers before finding out how much time had apparently passed outside, and his number would’ve long since begun covering the majority of his body, not enough he couldn’t hide it, but enough he needed full to wear clothes that provided a lot of skin coverage, but with this discovery it’d be enough to finally push his number into covering all of him, and also breaking him in the same moment.

Whatever’d happen he’d end up driving whatever team he was with away, and most likely permanently taking over and corrupting the environment of the cart he was in, and possibly also it’s connection to the train and mini-universe itself.

I pretty much just have this idea of some ageless, reality warping, and highly unstable passenger who’s covered in glowing red, constantly changing numbers (cycling especially rapidly whenever he alters the reality of whatever environment he’s in in a particularly dramatic moment, or modifies himself), and terrorizes the inhabitants of the train, and while not actively trying to kill passengers, more than willing to torment, terrify, and toy with whatever passengers he comes across out of a hatred for the fact he still can’t leave, while collecting whatever items, landscapes, and even creatures that he either might have old memories of, or just interest him which he drags back to his corrupted cart to create some sort of hall of memories/comfort-esque ‘new home’ seeing as how he’ll never return to his old one

Basically, big disturbing antagonist with creepy powers, a flair for the dramatic, and a bit of mental instability that came about from having to contend with the fact he 1) will never return home, and everyone he knew is probably dead, 2) is stuck in a weird surreal train dimension of outright terrifying at times mini-worlds in every cart that come in every flavour of whatever random combination for a setting you can think of, and are filled with countless sapient, but entirely non-human beings, many of which are less than friendly, and all of which you can never escape no matter how many carts you go through, and 3) has to come to terms with the fact he’s practically lost his own humanity in everything except form, and even that is entirely up to his own desires (and also because it’s what he’s still the most subconsciously used to regardless of how he temporarily changes it), and has resulted in a tendency to lash out both physically, and verbally with the same vitriol he felt about the situation he was forced into before he began to lose it entirely.

In other words, very cruel, scary antagonist at this point, but not entirely irredeemable if you can somehow actually get through to him in a way that settles at least enough of his fractured psyche that some of his old self pulls itself back into the forefront.

#infinity train #infinity train character idea #character idea #character idea I gotta write out fully sometime #I'll try and clean this up into something coherent sometime just needed to lay the idea out in a post somewhere at least #in all honesty infinity train is a fun show but it doesn't exactly pull my interest in as much as other shows #it's plots just kind of loose and all over the place even if it's coherent enough to tell what's going on #I also prefer when there's consistent MC's over new ones every season #not that I dislike how it's being done just not my usual cup of tea #which is also why the fact that this idea has been sticking with me for as long as it has is an odd one #did not expect to get a character idea my brain'd get invested in enough to keep from a fandom I'm never really going to be a part of #like this guy's been bouncing around since mid season-1/early season 2 #tho that scene with you know who from the trains favourite group of murderish vandal children was what cemented the idea fully #sure numbers came before it but the idea that they gave you powers the higher they got flipped my brains creative switch all the way on #especially with the idea of what kind of differences there would be in powers if the numbers weren't going up from 0 but down #and so I of course had to start going the eldritch abomination reality altering monster man route #it's mostly centered around the thought of how reaching 0 means your connection to this pocket universe is pretty much cut #so if your connection reaches the point where it was supposed to be cut but then somehow skips over it #what does it mean when you're still stuck there but technically not connected to it any longer #and what does that mean for the connection to the dimension you should now be in #and I went this means you're connection to both is now so screwed up the reality your in is no longer compatible with you and vice versa #but because your also still a part of it neither its or your existence can reject the other and they also can't properly incorporate either #and because of this conflict reality around you starts pretty much tearing apart at the seams #now whether you can benefit from this tearing much less control it'd be another thing but in this case I'm saying he can #with the... mental fragility that came with being forced to acknowledge what was happening to him he pretty much ended up in the perfect #mentality to adapt to the newfound abilities his impossible existence had spawned as if they were just basic instinct #the minimal training he had in using them at their much weaker when his existence was not as altered by his screwed up connection #(i.e. a negative number that didn't cover all of him and constantly altered)#also helped his mind and body adapt to them as he fractured

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tea-toast · 4 years ago

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Echoylir Ch.1 - The Mechanic

Summary: A new planet, a new bounty.

Words: 2.7k

Notes: just bullshitting my way through a hypothetical post Season 2 episode. Hope it’s liked despite not being a reader insert.

Warnings: references to canon-typical violence

AO3

……………

Steel-toothed termites had been chewing on Telseraal’s barren soil, almost to its lava and flame core for decades, eagerly eroding its crust to prick deep metal veins or scratch precious stones in their wake. Miners’ greed, snouting under the surface with their sharp drills in search of infamous Aurodium or even Chromium clusters because they’ve been hearing about it, despite no reliable source or findings of such valuable metals underneath their feet.

This was what had brought Telseraal to its capitulation, legends that had swelled with detail after being passed from mouth to mouth, from ear to ear attracting prospectors, miners, scoundrels and swindlers, desperate people lured by the illusion of richness. Decades of drilling, digging tunnels like feverish ants; smashing stones with blunt pickaxes, fingernails bleeding, hands blistering, faces blackening and lungs frying with dust and soot as even the Mining Collective took an interest in the riches. Scattering away anybody who would question their methodology, imposing their supremacy on the mines through blaster rifles and fear. Some sort of rapacity had sunk its talons within all these souls, narrowed all these minds to one thought, one desire.

Meanwhile, another type of infestation had begun spreading all around the ever deeper and larger holes littering Telseraal. Hot furnaces, sparks and screeching, casting of metal upon the desolate surface, from makeshift beds to shiny sharp constructions facing the abyss. A dusty dome covering the sky above mining cities, puffing out from the hellhole awaiting deep down in the bowel of this cursed planet. Heavy and massive bastions of greed and sin and abuse, they stood. Throbbing horribly, parasites clinging, sucking their fill as the planet around it thinned, split by sores, wounds large enough to be seen from the cold outer space as ships entered the atmosphere and descended into this clanging sooty Hell.

He could see small particles dancing all around as he initiated the landing sequence. Small fake fireflies not dispensing light, but rather a somewhat irritating reddish fog. Some had even managed to get into the cockpit, probably from the ventilation system. Now, that was a hassle he would rather not address, the courtesy ship Peli had given him was already a leaky wreak without a dust malfunction needed.

A heavy sigh heaved from his chest, a little air escaping from under the rim of his helmet and starting the particles in yet another dance. With a curt head movement, his visor curved towards the onboard radar to fix on the dot lazily flashing on it, showing him the way to his assigned hanger. His glove slowly lifted to move towards one of the levers, the shape of it still unknown around his fingers despite it being quite some time since he got the ship. Of course, he could have picked up the credits to buy one, but at the same time, he preferred to keep a certain distance from the concept of “owning” a ship after what happened to the Crest. At least for some time, he had told himself, till the searing sadness and tiredness still creeping under his beskar would rear their ugly heads, burying themselves deep within his soul.

That was why he had returned to taking jobs, for money of course but also for the distraction.

Maker only knew how much distraction he needed. He still would try pushing buttons his current ship did not have, searching for a lever this model did not own.

Out of sheer habit.

And out of sheer habit, maybe even desperate hope he would sometimes still turn around on his right, thinking to find a second seat. Hoping to find it taken.

Little green feet poking out of his onesie, while bright eyes were focused on his favourite shiny toy as he made it levitate over his tiny hands. No more coos, or squeaks or needy gurgling because he was hungry. No more big green pointy ears peaking up and high-pitched contented babbles as he called him by his name.

There was no second seat on his right, and no kid to sit on it.

The durasteel ball now carefully stashed in the recesses of one of his pockets, under his armour. Like a relic, a precious treasure, a spherical box of memories he had been holding onto. To be cradle only by him between his fingers as he wished to be able to cradle the very child he was missing so much, feeling his comforting weight on his hip, his tiny claws brushing his glove in a familiar gesture of comfort.

Wiser than a child, frailer than a fifty-year-old, his ad’ika.

The now missing member of his clan of two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The white gleam of the hangar brought him out of his thoughts. A rush of statics in his comms directing him towards his designated landing station as the ship lowered down with groans and stutters.

Despite his dexterous wrist on the level, the jolt the ship gave as it touched the ground made him jerk in his seat and curse under his breath. His lungs filled up with air once more, to be then exhaled in what could have both sounded like a long-suffering sigh or maybe a way to relax the nerves creeping below his skin. Nimble fingers pushing buttons and switching everything off, before standing up from the pilot seat. His back and joints and knees popping loudly under the beskar, the echo of it swallowed up by his heavy footing leaving the cockpit to get his weapons.

With his reluctance to get his own ship, some of his habits had changed, even in the artillery department, far lighter and with less hoarding and cataloguing, what sufficed to take care of the business he was there for and to not have his ass being handled. The rest he had been able to gather was stashed away in a locker at Peli’s.

With his jet-pack on his shoulders and his trusty blaster secured in its holster on his right hip, he went looking for the ramp handle. He had to flex his arm and grip the lever tightly to get the rusty mechanism in motion and the ramp to lower with a racket of grating and metallic rasping. A reddish-hued light slowly shedding a beacon within the cramped interior of the vessel, as dust and soot crept inside slipping into whatever crack and cranny they could find.

The ramp came halfway down when it jammed with a loud thud, worn joints refused to slip and gears got stuck in their rotations. His shoulders stiffened under the pauldrons of his armour as he proceeded to pull the ramp lever a second time. The ramp lifted slightly and then fell back halfway with a lurk that shook the whole ship and nearly knocked him off balance.

"Dank farrik!" he cursed under his breath, gloved fingers rolling into fists. He wanted so badly to kick one of the ramp joints until it lowered properly, just to let off some of the steam that has been dangerously teetering beneath his skin. Despite his destructive eagerness, he thought against it. Instead, his boots carried him to the plane edge and with a poised leap, he stepped off the ship.

Panels, fried C-boards, scraps and rusted components littered the dusty ground while a strong smell of oil slithered past the helmet rim to hit his nostrils. The hangar was nothing like Peli's and less equipped than expected. Far less equipped than a proper hangar or mechanic post would have been.

And quiet.

The hair at the base of his neck stood up under his neck seal, his senses sharpened even more than they already were.

He didn't like the place at all.

Right hand readily close to his holster, electricity running through his fingertips, he glanced around, tried to spot any source of danger. Attempting to make as little noise as possible, he took a couple of steps, the soles of his boots creaking on the dusty ground.

The sudden whirring noise on the left reached his ear, blaster whipped out as quick as a viper striking. Firm grip and index finger stroking the trigger as his focus zoned in on what had caused that noise.

A beaten up WED Treadwell repair droid wheeled in from a corner, its various tool-tipped appendages dangling around it as long metallic spidery legs. His aim remained focused on the droid, and he barely unacknowledged the footsteps following its buzzing.

“Whoa, hey!”

Only at that did his attention shoot towards the direction of the voice, his blaster only slightly lowered down.

Standing there was someone a whole head shorter than him wearing baggy overalls.

“Uhm, hello there.” she greeted at a safe distance, raising her hands a bit to show that she was not armed, “I’d much appreciate if you’d stop aiming at my Treadwell. Y’know, it’s fragile and it’d be difficult to get my hands on a decent replacement here.”

Despite the rush of adrenaline still thrumming under his skin, he did comply. His arm lowered and his blaster got stashed away, T visor now trained on the rather human-looking woman in front of him.

She didn’t sound as he expected, she did not possess the sardonic tone he had come to expect of a mechanic. Instead, she seemed mellow and only a little bit on edge due to potential property damage and armed stranger in her hangar. She had a hint of an accent he couldn't properly place. Dark eyes studied him, probably to be sure he would not lash out again as she approached. “I got other droids back there, are you gonna greet them as you did with Treadwell? Just to know.” She did not sound accusing, rather she seemed to be trying to lift the mood after the tension

“Sorry.” he gruffed through his vocoder, his threatening aura slowly fading into awkwardness, “Not fond of droids.”

She replied with a “uhm” sound as she eventually made up her mind he was a threat no more and step towards his ship with a more secure gait. “Then droids will have no business regarding your ship, Mandalorian.” she quipped, gazing over the vessel and its rather desolate appearance.

“Thanks.” he rasped while watching her walking over to the half-lowered ramp and after a cursory glance resting her elbow and arm on the plane edge as she turned to look at him.

“So,” her demeanour now quite open, “how may I serve you?” the shadow of a smile morphed on her mouth, rounding her cheeks out for a second.

He rolled his shoulders and pointed at the ship with a tilt of his helmet, “Need whatever you can do to make this thing fly back home without falling apart.”

Her eyes followed his head movement, but went back looking at him shortly afterwards, “Home being where?”

He could feel her attentive glance scanning him, studying him and maybe trying to understand what was his deal. He planted his feet a little more firmly on the ground and instinctively squared up. It looked like she could tell he was getting defensive, her barely-there smile did not falter and she shrugged, “Just to tell you if you’re better off without it from the start.”

Begrudgingly, he had to admit to himself she had a point asking. She was a mechanic after all.

“Tatooine.” clipped his baritone from under the helmet.

“Ah, I see. I might be able to patch it up,” was her reply as she took out a diagnostic device from her overalls belt and aimed it at the metal surface of the ship. “Somehow,” she mumbled shortly after, looking to the rather poor screen readings.

“Do whatever you can.” he fished some credits from under his armour and extended his arm toward her, “Do these cover me?”

She took the handed credits and gave them a casual count before nodding, “Yeah, it should.” She squinted her eyes as the sun crept in from the hangar’s upper opening and bounced on his shiny chest plate.

“Good.” he wasted no time saying, “I need to get to Jantoo. How far is it?”

“Uhm, by foot?” she hummed as she pocked the credits and hanged her device to her belt, eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

“Yes.”

“Jantoo’s not that far from here, but I don’t recommend venturing by foot,” she huffed while passing him and rearranging some flying strands of dark hair in the low bun pawing at her neck, “it’s quite the rough route. Even for a Mandalorian.”

“Is it?” he inquired then, hands on his hips and a half-amused half huffy edge in his sigh.

“Mark my word.” she nodded while giving him her back and busing herself with a mechanic kit. She rummaged around, clanging of metal resonating within the hangar walls.

He was about to just leave and getting in motion to get to Jantoo as quickly as possible despite her warnings when she peeped in again, “You can use my old speeder if you want,” and she pointed at the outline in the far corner of the hangar, “Faster and safer than by foot. Beskar and muscle may not be enough outside in the dust bowls.” Grabbing her tools and spinning around on her soles, she sprinted back to the ship.

Under his watchful gaze, she diligently placed the kit on the half-lowered ramp and then hoisted herself up with a low grunt. Her hands grabbing and stashing screwdrivers, scanners, mechtorches in her overalls pockets, a flashlight with a strap secured to her forehead. She switched the light on and off a couple of times. “Good,” she chirped, “batteries have not oxidised for once.”

While she was strapping in to get to work on that wreck of a vessel, he was considering her offer. That was pretty on-brand for planets he had visited. The only thing holding him back from accepting without complaint was the thought of what happened to Peli’s speeder last time. He didn't want to deprive someone of a means of transportation, especially knowing that he might not return it whole to them.

He had yet to realise, this entire consideration had been going on in his head while in the meantime he had been silent while staring at the mechanic scrambling around inside his ship. He noticed her giving him a pointed look from behind her shoulder as she was touching around to find the control panel in charge of the ramp mechanism.

“How much would that cost me?” he eventually inquired, hand already searching his pocket.

She made a face at that, “What, do you think I’d charge you for that piece of junk?” She was met with silence, his visor not moving from her.

An incredulous chuckle bubbled up from her chest, “Put those credits away, Mandalorian. I’m not charging you more, I’m not a leech.”

His pocket rummaging stopped at that. Well, at least she did not look like being attached to it...

“Here,” a good-natured sigh, fingers digging in one of the small pouches on her chest, her feet carried her to the ramp edge and her arm stretched toward him, an old rusty ignition key in her hand.

He glanced at it for a split of a second, before taking it between his gloved thumb and forefinger, “Thanks.” he gave a short nod.

She reciprocated his head movement, “Have a nice trip.” and she then stepped back into the ship shadows.

His helmet lowered to give the key in his hand another look, already turning around to go get the speeder bike when her voice broke the silence yet again, halting him in his tracks.

“Oh by the way,” her head poked out from the ship guts, “name’s Trisso. Nice to meet you.” and she flashed him her ever-present smile before retreating once again.

A grin tickled the edge of his mouth under the helmet at her laid back behaviour and the fact that they both almost forgot introductions, but soon he could feel his shoulders tensing up, and he deeply sighed once more. He had a job to do. Business to take care of.

Key in hand, he fully pivoted around and walked toward the damn dusty speeder in the corner.

#the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #the mandalorian fic #star wars fic #rogue one #star wars rogue one #chirrut imwe #baze malbus #baze x chirrut #chirrutbaze #rogue one fic #rogue one: a star wars story #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters

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hops-hunny · 4 years ago

Text

She.

Pairing: Luna Lovegood x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.2k

Request: N/A

Summary: (Y/n) never really questioned her views on love, that is until Luna came into her life.

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, make out session, underage drinking.

A/N: This is a fic based off of She by Dodie. I DO NOT condone underage drinking, it just fit with the story. This is a long one but I hope you guys enjoy!

Am I allowed

To look at her like that?

Could it be wrong

When she's just so nice to look at?

For (Y/n)’s entire life, she had thought of herself as a straight woman. She had a few boyfriends on and off again throughout the years. None of them were very long term but she had still enjoyed the time shared with each one. However, she had never thought to look outside of the realm of boys either and she still didn’t know what to describe her current feelings as. She kept telling herself it was just a close bond considering she hadn’t had many close friends over the years. Luna was her first one, the two girls bonding over their unique habits but it quickly grew the more time they’d spend together. The Hufflepuff felt guilty for even viewing her best friend that way. She hated herself for the dreams she had, for the way her heart would race when the blonde would hold her in her arms, stroking her hair softly as they talked. However, as she gazed up at Luna from the tree stump she sat on, watching as the Ravenclaw sat perched on a high up branch, delicately holding out her finger for the butterfly that danced across it, she couldn’t control her thoughts. ‘How could it be wrong when she’s just so damn nice to look at?’

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

Oh, you would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me, oh

The (h/c) haired girl sighed softly as she smiled at the polaroid in her hands. She could still remember that day very vividly.

It was a nice day in May and Luna had come to visit for the week-long break after the girls had both begged their parents about it. Her family lived in the countryside, preferring the quiet and peace that the city could never provide. Her father was a farmer who grew fruits and vegetables and Her mother a baker who used her husband’s crops in her bakery treats. His prized peach tree was a big hardy one, the leaves forming a roof of shade that sunlight streamed through. (Y/n) and Luna had been swimming in the lake all morning which left them in a happy high but also absolutely exhausted.

They both lay close to each other on the pink gingham blanket, clothes slightly dry in some part but still soaked in others. Her mother had brought them out a nice plate of cheese, crackers, and almonds along with a pitcher of freshly made apple juice. They both had since then finished it in a hungry frenzy. They stared at each other silently. Anyone looking at them would think they were using legilimency but in reality, sometimes they didn’t need to use words to communicate. The (e/c) girl found herself admiring her blonde counterpart. She found her to be so beautiful, her white dress clinging to her form, wavy hair half dry, and the new freckles she had accumulated over the course of the time they’d been outside.

“How sweet do you reckon these are? I bet they taste lovely.” Luna said as she sat up, reaching for a low hanging peach. She dusted it off on the blanket before taking a big bite of it, peach juice dripping down her chin. She hummed in content with a soft smile before holding the peach out to her friend. (Y/n) hesitated for a bit before sitting up taking a bite from it as well.

“Wow yeah, that’s amazing! I reckon this will be his best bunch of the year, these are the sweetest they’ve ever been.” She said as she handed her friend back the peach. She didn’t know if it was the way the peach tasted or the beautiful girl she was enjoying them with, but she could safely say peaches were her new favorite fruit. She found herself focusing on Luna’s lips, wondering what they’d taste like, what they’d feel like. ‘She probably tastes so sweet, peach nectar and apple juice. Maybe even a dash of-’

“Are you even listening to me?” Luna said, smiling at her friend. She shook her head slightly before scooting closer to the girl. She looked into her eyes deeply, stroking her cheek. “You know (Y/n/n), you mean everything to me.” she removed her hand, placing it on the other girls as she continued to look at her friend.

“Oh Luna, I feel the same. You mean everything to me and more.” She said, tangling their pinkies together. “In fact, I wanted to tell you...I wanted to tell you that I-”

“Girls! Lunch is ready!”

She glanced at the polaroid once more before sticking it back in its place on the inside of her wardrobe. As she took a step back, looking at all the photos, all the memories that littered the doors, her hands reached up closing them slowly before locking them, she rested her head on the wardrobe, sighing. ‘I’m in deep, aren't I?’

And I'll be okay admiring from afar

'Cause even when she's next to me

We could not be more far apart

(Y/n) could feel her heart slowly breaking as Luna was describing all the things she loved about Rami Picanto, a gryffindor a year above her. Her anger boiled deep inside her but was deeply masked with a smile and fake interest. She couldn’t stand it, at this moment she wanted more than anything to not be able to hear a thing. Although they were similar, when it came to their feelings, they were lightyears apart. (Y/n) wondered how the one person who held a place in her heart could feel like a distant stranger.

“And he’s got the most beautiful eyes, it reminds me of a jade crystal when they hit the sunlight. He took me for a walk today around the forest. When we were sitting together, we saw the most beautiful birds sweep across the sky. It was quite romantic, you know?” the blonde said, rolling over to face her dearest friend. She noticed a stray tear fall down the girls face. She had never seen her look so empty, so..distant. “(Y/n/n)? Are you alright?” she stroked the girls hair softly, a look of concern on her face.

And she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall

But to her, I taste of nothing at all

The girl sat up and without even thinking, she leaned in and kissed Luna. It was everything she had ever imagined. Her lips were soft like pillows. She tasted like the cake the house elves had given them earlier but even more than that, she tasted like happiness. She tasted like when the leaves turned orange in fall, like the sleep you’d get after your parents would read you stories to sleep, like that bittersweet day in May. And it would’ve been perfect, a dream come true even, if Luna had kissed back. (Y/n) pulled away with wide eyes, quickly standing up. Luna went to say something but she didn’t bother staying to listen, she ran. She didn’t stop running until she had reached her dorm, making sure to lock it. She threw herself onto her bed. She wanted to scream, let out loud sobs but she couldn’t. She didn’t wanna disturb the peace in the room unlike the peace she had destroyed amongst her friendship. She felt her world crumble as she let out silent cries into her pillow, falling asleep on the damp fabric.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

Oh, you would find her in a Polaroid picture

The next few months were agonizing for her. (Y/n) had completely cut Luna out of her life, too afraid to face the damage she thought was inflicted. But no matter what she did, Luna’s spirit lingered. It first started with the polaroids in her wardrobe which were quickly torn down and thrown into a box under her bed. When the weather got colder, her scarf had the girl’s scent in it, lemongrass and lavender which was also thrown into the box. Deep down, she knew these were only temporary fixes to the problem. The memories they had together, the special moments they shared could not just be tossed in a box and forgotten about. She’d have to deal with those on her own.

-------------

As Yule Ball came, the spirits in the castle were lifted for everyone. The ambiance of the decorations in the corridors, the snow on the ground, it was a beautiful sight to behold. Even (Y/n) had found it in herself to be uplifted by the magic of it all. After a lot of badgering from her roommates, the (h/c) girl had decided to go. The dress her mother had sent her was absolutely beautiful. At first, she was a bit apprehensive of wearing the dress, fearing it would cause a lot of unwanted and unnecessary attention. But once it was on, she knew it’d be worth it.

Her roommates all looked absolutely breathtaking, each one slowly disappearing as their dates came to collect them, handing them beautiful bouquets of flowers. As (Y/n) didn’t have a date, she didn’t feel in a rush to get ready. She took her time with her hair, putting it in a beautiful but intricate style, her makeup was flawless which wasn’t surprising with the amount of time spent weeks before in the mirror trying to get the perfect winged liner down. The girl had also taken it upon herself to place the flowers in water, knowing that her roommates would probably want to keep them alive a bit longer to be reminded of the beautiful night to come. As (Y/n) was putting on a coat of lipgloss, a knock was at the door.

“I told you lot to go ahead! You don’t have to wait for me, wouldn’t wanna hold you back, I’ll be there soon!” she hadn’t looked up, still looking into the mirror on her vanity as she powder her face. She placed on a beautiful pair of white gold hoops, finally looking at herself in the mirror. Smiling, she stood up before facing the door. Nothing could prepare her for who was standing there. Luna stood there in a beautiful dress, holding a beautiful array of flowers (Y/n) had never even seen before.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I was with Neville gathering these for you. He told me you would probably like these ones the most.” She walked towards the (h/c), putting the flowers in an empty vase that sat on her vanity. (Y/n) was quiet, still trying to process this. Why had she shown up? Wasn’t she attending Yule with Rami? “Oh, well, after what happened between us that night, I told Rami I could no longer see him. I didn’t want to lead him on when I knew who my heart belonged to at the end of the day.”

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to say that outloud. It’s just, I’ve been seeing you guys so close together lately so I had completely given up hope on the possibility as friends let alone lovers.” She finally met the girl in the eyes, finding she had a sympathetic look as she felt quite guilty for her actions.

“It did look that way, didn’t it? If I’m honest, once you cut me off I had no one to talk to so me and him grew close. But trust me when I say, you were the only thing on my mind. He was the one who advised me to give you some time. He also was giving me dance lessons so I could do this,” she spun the (e/c) eyed girl around before dipping her. She pulled her up, placing a light peck on her lips. “But I think I’ll save my best for the ball.”

And she means everything to me

Yes, she means everything to me

As the two walked arm in arm down the grand staircase, everyone’s eyes turned to look at the pair. A few gasps and whispers could be heard causing the Hufflepuff to get nervous. She gripped onto Luna’s arm tighter as she leaned over to her ear. “They’re all staring at us. Maybe this was a bad idea.” she whispered, voice began to waver.

“Don’t be silly, dove. It’s not bad attention. They’ve simply just haven’t ever seen two people so fabulous before. We look amazing.” she reassured as she descended the last step. She turned waiting for the girl, admiring just how gorgeous she truly was. As she held out her hand for her help, the blonde took it as she bowed, placing a light kiss on it. “A girl as pretty as you deserves to be treated like royalty not only tonight, but every night to come.”

------

The night was marvelous, much more than the times she had dreamed of it. They were the first ones onto the floor, her leading you through the dance as you were much too nervous to. Luna spun her around and held her close through all the slow songs and they both waved and jumped around wildly to the upbeat ones.A lot of (Y/n)’s housemates and roommates saw them throughout the night, telling them how cute they were together leading (Y/n) to have to explain how they weren't together leading Luna every time in turn to add a “not yet at least!”. She was still trying to wrap her head around it all. If someone were to show her a month ago or hell, even a day ago what was to come she probably would’ve laughed and broken down in her room later that night.

“Where are we going Luna? We shouldn’t be out here, we may get caught.” the Hufflepuff said as her friend- er lover?- dragged her along to the carriages. Luna looked both ways making sure the coast was clear before dragging her friend into it. The girls giggled as they tried shushing each other, failing miserably. Luna couldn’t help but admire how beautiful (Y/n) looked tonight. A few of her hairs stuck to her face from the light sweating they both did on the floor tonight, the moonlight hitting the glitter on her cheekbones from the highlight she had.

“Ron gave me this and while usually I don’t partake in these kinds of activities, tonight is a special occasion.” Luna pulled up her dress slightly revealing a small pouch. She reached in it pulling out a bottle of fire whiskey and two small shot glasses before pulling her garment back down. She poured some in each of the glasses before handing her date one as well.

“A special occasion?” (Y/n) said, a warmth filling her cheeks as she smiled at the girl.

“Well of course it is!” Luna lifted the small glass, clinking it with the other girl’s as she smiled as well. “When I told you that you meant everything to me that time in May, I truly did mean it. Even though I was a tad confused at the time I’m quite sure of my feelings now. To, not new love, but love that has finally grounded. To a love that will last forever.” she tilted her head back, swallowing the burning liquid as her partner did the same. A comfortable silence overcame the carriage as they both sat there, enjoying each other's presence. Nothing needed to be said for them to understand how they both were feeling which is exactly what led to the kiss they shared.

(Y/n) leaned forward, kissing Luna back as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Luna’s hands wandered all over the girls body before resting them on the small of her back. The blonde’s tongue swiped across the girls lips, the taste of fire whiskey still lingering there. The fight for dominance ended just about as soon as it started as Luna gripped the girls hips, pulling her into her lap. She slid her hands under the girl’s dress, gripping at her ass as she bit her lip as she pulled away. The blue eyed girl began trailing kisses down the girls neck. (Y/n) let out an airy moan as Luna began to nibble and suck on her collarbone, leaving a purple and red marking.

“I think I’m quite satisfied with that, what about you darling?” she said as she pulled back, admiring her work. The girl just nodded in response, a bit buzzed from not only the whiskey but the intimate moment they both had just shared. She yawned slightly, wrapping her arms around her neck as she rested her head on her shoulders. After about 10 minutes of them both being silent, Luna realized that the gorgeous girl had in fact fallen asleep. Luna carefully laid back with the girl in her arms, allowing herself to drift as well. For the first time in a while, they both felt peace. (Y/n) couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so well and Luna couldn’t remember the last time she got to hold her former friend, now lover, in her arms.

---------

As teens began to slip from the ball, getting up to who knows what kind of trouble, Severus Snape was put on carriage watch. He had caught many of his former and current students in rather, compromising positions that he would love to obliviate from his mind. Each house had lost many upon many points from the carriages alone. He came across the last one in the row, opening it up. He prepared to yell like he had the last five times but shortly closed his mouth. He let out a soft smile at the sight in front of him. Two of his students, Luna Lovegood and (Y/n) (L/n) both were asleep and content in each other's arms. He noticed the fairly full bottle of fire whiskey and discarded shot glasses. He looked both ways before shoving them under his robe, wanting to get rid of the incriminating evidence.

“I suggest you gather your lover, Miss Lovegood, and remove yourself from the carriage. I doubt the other professors will be as kind as I was. Run along now and enjoy your night.” He said, knowing the noise from the carriage had disturbed the girl who was pretending to sleep. Luna opened her eyes, giving him a brief nod and smile. The professor bid her farewell with a nod before closing the carriage door. “No, this one appears to be empty, but you are more than welcome to come check if you think I am too old or blind to see.” Luna took that as her que to leave. She carefully picked up her girlfriend, opening the other side of the carriage before sprinting back to the castle. She tried her best not to jostle her.

Once she reached the Hufflepuff’s dorm, she carefully removed the dress she was wearing along with her own, leaving them in the slips they wore underneath them. She pulled back the sheets, placing (Y/n) delicately under the sheets before climbing in next to her. She smiled as the girl cuddled closer to her in her sleep. She glanced at the flowers on the vanity once more before she drifted off as well, both having pleasant dreams of the night they had together.

She means everything to me

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