#but i bet he could unleash a torrent if he had to
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Sekhi on Hero Talents and the War Within Beta
Sekhi: Elemental/Restoration Shaman and Farseer
For Sekhi, I figured the Farseer fit best. Farseer makes it so when you cast certain spells (100% chance for Primordial Wave and a smaller chance for others depending on talent choices) you summon an ancestor spirit to fight alongside you and mimic your spellcasts.
At first they'll be a rare bonus, but the further along you get the more often they appear. Its a fun bit of fluff for Sekhi since she's a vulpera and their caravan family is extremely important to them in lore. I figured it would be the most fitting for her.
Nelen Fullmoon: Arcane Mage and Spellslinger
Who here remembers the Needler from Halo? Yeah, its basically that!
Whenever an arcane mage with this hero selection burns some Clearcasting, they generate arcane slivers that zip towards nearby enemies and embed themselves in their bodies, doing both direct damage and damage over time! The further along you go, the more often this happens and the more damage they do!
Nitika Dawnhoof/Darkhoof: Holy/Shadow Priestess and Oracle/Voidweaver
Nitika, in my story, is kinda sorta two people sharing the same body. Dawnhoof is a Seer of An'she (holy priest, but using sunlight specifically) while Darkhoof uses Shadow Magic, specifically Sha-based powers.
Oracle is an interesting one so far. You get a new spell that acts as a permanent buff, giving you bonuses to spellcasting. I haven't had much of a chance to use it yet but... c'mon, she's a SEER of An'she! How could I not make her an Oracle?!
As for Voidweaver, it makes it so when you use Void Torrent it creates a pool of void energies that chases enemies around. Other stuff too, but again I haven't had that much of a chance to play around. I bet some shadow priests are gonna have a lot of fun with it though.
Jaie Swiftpaw: Brewmaster Monk and Master of Harmony
The Master of Harmony is a fun one. Every time you attack or heal you store some of it within your chi, and (in Jaie's case) when you use Celestial Brew that chi empowers you, giving you a big damage buff!
I almost went with the other Brewmaster choice (Shado-pan) but the way it works is that you build up charges when you do damage equal to 100% of your max health, then unleash them every time you spend 400 energy total. It sounds neat, but Jaie is a tank so she does not so much damage and has a LOT of health. I think she's going to be using 400 energy a lot more often than she'll be doing that much damage.
Bet it'd be a fun one to do as a Windwalker though.
Galdia Grimaxe: Protection Warrior and Colossus
Colossus is just perfect for Galdia. You get a new attack when you choose it called "Demolish" that does just that. Your character will do a channeled combo attack and basically beat whatever is infront of them black and blue.
It gives bonuses to other attacks like Shockwave as well, and you can empower how much damage it does by using Shield Slam (as a protection warrior of course.) I'm really looking forward to beating up a few raid bosses using this one.
Mola'raum: Unholy Death Knight and Rider of the Apocalypse
We don't really see it come up anymore now that Shadowlands has ended and been consigned to the "well, they gave it their best shot in a really shitty situation" bin, but a Death Knight is part of an organization outside of the Alliance and Horde. Rider of the Apocalypse focuses on that.
Your abilities will have a chance of summoning one of the four horsemen of the Ebon Blade: Mograne, Trollbane, Nazgrim, or Whitemane. They will aid you in combat by fighting alongside you and either buffing you or debuffing your enemies.
One of the early talents you get with this one is potentially pretty broken too: On a Pale-er Horse. Basically, you can ride your Deathcharger in combat.
I THINK WE'RE GONNA SEE PEOPLE DOING THAT ONE A LOT! At least it fits Mola'raum, he uses a spear!
Grimo B. Blamstick: Marksmanship Hunter and... Dark Ranger?
Yeah, look, Imma be honest. NONE of the hero talents fit Grimo, even the one Marksman don't get. He's a hunter yes, but his whole thing is he's a gearhead engineer who loves blowing shit up and shooting guns.
Sentinel is about your "bond to nature" (he's a goblin) and the other one is beastmaster and survival hunters so thats out of the question anyways.
Dark Ranger is my pick because it didn't fit him AS BAD as Sentinel.
D'oh well.
Edwood Vargas: Destruction Warlock and Hellcaller
Hellcaller however, fits Edwood perfectly... though it'll likely make my druid hate him even more than she already does for being a forsaken and a warlock. Hellcaller magic is the powers used by the Satyr, the fel-corrupted night elves who sided with the Burning Legion.
For the record, that druid I mentioned? She's a night elf.
Yeah.
That being said, the abilities sound fun as heck. The first one you get is that it turns Immolate (or Corruption if you take it as Affliction) into "Wither" which does shadowflame damage up front and over time, and can be empowered by other talents. I really like these ones that don't just give you new abilities, but upgrade old ones into the new ones.
It gives me something fun to play around with and helps cut down on button bloat.
Dareley Steelhammer: Holy Paladin and Lightsmith
He's a paladin, and his name is literal. The Steelhammer family has been blacksmiths in Ironforge since before the War of the Three Hammers. When I heard one of the upcoming Paladin hero talents was built around literally forging the light into weapons and shields? Yep, that was Dareley.
You gain the spell Holy Bulwark which lets you throw a weapon or shield made of pure Light to your allies, giving them an offensive or defensive buff for one.
For another, you get a choice of two "Rites." Rite of Sanctification which blesses your weapon to give you bonus armor and increase your primary stat, or Rite of Adjuration that gives you a stamina buff and makes your spells sometimes cause your target to erupt in healing light.
THATS RIGHT! WE GET OUR PALLY SEALS BACK!
But yeah, Dareley is my dedicated Healadin, so I'm going to REALLY enjoy this one come the first raid. :D
Samantha Montebank: Subtlety Rogue and Trickster
I'm really loving how well some of these are fitting my characters (pity about Grimo but d'oh well.)
Trickster looks to be a pretty fun one to play. Right from the start you get the talent "Unseen Blade." It makes it so your primary combo point building attacks (Gloomblade/Backstab and Shadowstrike in my case) will cause your target to get Fazed.
Fazed targets take more damage from your attacks and, this is the big one, can't parry them. For a rogue this is a preeeeeeetty nice bonus.
You can only Faze them once every 20 seconds however and the debuff only lasts five... but some talents can give you a chance to reset that limit (one of them gives a nice bonus to Slice and Dice, making you even faster too.)
Sam is rapidly becoming one of my favorite melee characters, and this might just make her moreso.
Shalandrae Deeproots: Druid Druid Drudity Drood
Question: Which Spec/Hero Talents did you pick for your druid, Shalandrae?
Answer: Yes.
Shalandrae is one I love to just go with whatever I want to be at the moment, especially with how easy it is to be geared for multiple specs now (unless you're an M+ sweatlord in which case I hope you get the psychological care you clearly desperately need.) So I'm going with all four!
Guardian/Druid of the Claw: Druid of the Claw is built for beasts, and for bears its downright devastating. Your first ability gives your auto attacks a chance to turn Mangle into a new attack, Ravage, which does tremendous damage and can be enhanced to cause bleeding and a whole host of other fun things.
Feral/Wildstalker: This one is actually an option for healers too. Its a little beast, a little plant. Your attacks against enemies can inflict them with bloodsucker vines that drain their health, while heals can give symbiotic blooms that give you more heals!
Balance/Elune's Chosen: Need I say it? More boom for the boomkin! Your first talent makes your big boom spells (Fury of Elune or Full Moon) hit even harder, and it continues on from there. If you like Fury of Elune like I do then there's talents to give you a chance to summon a shorter-lived one at random, or to cut the cooldown of it, and such. Space lasers for everyone!
Restoration/Keeper of the Grove: Tree law! TREE LAW! TREE LAW!!! Treant lovers, this one is for you guys! I get a ton of use out of mine when I'm healing, having the backup is nice, and for my fellow tree huggers... this makes your trees hug back! The talents not only empower your Grove Guardians, it makes them empower you as well! Expect to see a lot of botany if you pick this path.
Aziguni: Beast Master Hunter and Pack Leader
Unlike Grimo, this one PERFECTLY fits Aziguni. Its all about working with your beastly buddies to raise all sorts of hell!
The first ability enhances Kill Command so that the next one you use will cause you to attack in unison with your pet for bonus damage, and it also has a host of other perks like enhancing Mend Pet for those tougher fights, letting your pets buff you for a change, and the like.
Aziguni is a bologist in my story, having researched and catalogued various fauna on all the worlds the Draenei fled to after Argus fell, and this would easily be something she would go for in character.
Zhan-min Irontummy: Enhancement Shaman and Totemic
Can I just say as someone who has played WoW almost since the beginning (and then only because I couldn't at first as I was fresh out of high school and had no money) that I love that totems are making a comeback?
Totemic is a neat build. Right from the start you get a new totem that not only causes earthquakes that damage enemies constantly, but replaces your Windfury totem by making it so your Windfury weapon enchantment turns your weapon into a permanent Windfury totem!
It also has options to give your other abilities the chance to summon other totems as well. Lava lash a fun spell? Well now it might bring back Searing Totem! I missed that little guy!
So yeah. Veeeeeeeeeery happy with this one.
Laurelgosa/Laura Brightflame: Devastation/Restoration Evoker and Flameshaper
I almost went with Scalecommander for the DPS side of things, but I decided in the end this fits well for both. After all the ruby flames can kill or cure, so why not have them do both?
Flameshaper deepens the evoker's connection to the Red Dragonflight, giving you the spell Engulf right off the bat. Like Living Flame it can heal allies and hurt enemies, but instant cast and for a higher amount than the former.
From there it enhances your breath attacks (deep breath/dream breath will fly farther and faster) while giving your other abilities a guaranteed heal/damage over time effect.
Quite the nice addition to my evoker spellbook.
Leza: Fire Mage and Sunfury
Oh hey! Its Kael'thas! I haven't seen you since Sunwell Plateau! How've you been m'dude? ... oh wait, sorry, mistook you for someone else.
Yeah, this thing is one big love letter to the late King Sunstrider. You even get his ability to fuck with gravity like he did in that fight. Hell one of the talents is literally called "Merely a Setback!"
Outside of that however, it looks like a lotta fun. You generate spellflame orbs (up to three of course) during and out of combat which buff your spell damage, and when you use your big buff spell (Combustion in my case) you summon a phoenix to fight alongside you.
Expect almost every Blood Elf mage to take this one. Seriously.
Alalestria Wintersky: Frost Mage and Frostfire
I said almost every Blood Elf mage.
Alalestria is a dedicated frost mage, a maigster of House Wintersky, in my story and I figured this would be a fun fit for her. Its a bit awkward at first as most frost/fire spells are locked to those talent trees, but the further down you go the more talents will cause your other spells to PROC the other element!
For example: One talent makes it so Comet Storm also calls down a Meteor (and vice versa,) another makes your Ice Lance turn the target into a Living Bomb. You also get Frostfire Bolt back, but now this talent makes it so whenever you cast frost, it enhances fire, and vice versa. Frostfire is both, so it buffs both too!
It starts out slow, but by the end you'll be seeing some REAL fireworks!
Sinranir Downstrider: Asassination Rogue and Deathstalker
This one is pretty damn nasty. Using Ambush from Stealth gives your target three stacks of "Deathstalker's Mark" which causes any finishing moves that use five or more combo points to deal bonus Plague damage and enhance one of your other attacks as well.
A fitting one for Sinranir, who is a contract assassin who wound up in service to the aforementioned Alalestria through a botched assassination attempt on her late father, Danaforth.
While it may seem pretty situational, good for the start of a fight since you need to be in stealth to mark enemies... that changes when it comes time for the endgame stuff. The final talent is "Darkest Night" which makes it so when your last mark is consumed it makes your next Envenom (in my case) that uses five or more combo points to have 100% critical chance, deal 30% more damage, and apply three new marks! The fun never ends!
Well, for you. Not so much for them. I imagine they'd much rather it did.
Mal'gum: Fury Warrior and Slayer
Malgum is actually the long-lost brother to the aforementioned Aziguni (the beast master hunter) and the reason why is that he was press-ganged into becoming a man'ari eredar when Argus fell, having stayed behind to 'hear out what Kil'jadeen had to say' (oops.)
To avoid the fate of being killed and used to fuel the soulforges, he had to become useful to Sargeras, and that meant killing things. The slayer abilities hone that to a razor edge, then drive that edge into something that'll scream and bleed.
Your first ability is a passive that causes your attacks to have a chance to penetrate your enemy's defenses, doing a free attack and applying Executioner's Mark, which buffs the next Execute's damage (and can stack.)
The tree uses Bladestorm a lot, so I hope you like that one (at least for Fury, dunno about the other ones) and it has a bunch of buffs for pursuing enemies as well (like a choice node where Charge also gives you a big speed buff once it runs out, or charge and heroic leap each cut the cooldown of the other.) A good pick for people who just want to cause some carnage.
Gremori Autumnleaves: Havoc Demon Hunter and Fel-Scarred
"Lets play a game, I call it WHO'S THE BIGGER MONSTER?!"
Fel-scarred is for those who want to raise some hell literally. It buffs your Metamorphosis power!
The first node is Demonsurge, which enhances the health and armor bonuses of being in your demonic form, as well as making it so your enhanced abilities will cause a "Demonsurge" which makes them EXPLODE and deal AoE fire damage!
From there its all about power enhancement and lowering or resetting the cooldowns of your other big hitters. This definitely makes demon hunter, a class I've always been kinda 'meh' about, feel more interesting to play.
And yeah, thats all of 'em. Looking forward to when this madness goes live. :D
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The Mages of Heylon
Penelope had lived her life in relative Peace (if one could call the constant monster attacks as peace) within the Dukedom of Heylon as the Archmage to her friend Abel Heylon. Though they consider themselves to be nothing but friends, many believe them to be lovers to their constant dismay. It’s something the children (though Siegren and Fiona were only a handful of years younger than she), always tease them off even if they know the truth. Penelope knows that her friend thinks of the children the way she does, that they are family and they are theirs to protect. It also helps that they’re all quite fond and protective of her baby Judy. One day, the Emperor of Eorka arrives and shatters that peace, upending the happy life she and her daughter had lived so far.
“Are you still planning on going to the Capital?” Penelope asked the young woman in front of her. She was only a handful of years younger than Penelope but she had raised this child as something of a cross between a sister and daughter. Fiona has grown so much into a wonderful and sweet young woman, confident in her abilities and in her place in the world.
“Yes, I need to do this for myself.” Fiona responded with a smile as she held the letter in her hands. “They’ve looked down on me for so long, for things I could never control. It’s time they’re served their comeuppance the Heylon way, just as you and Abel have taught me.”
Yes, they did teach her that. This girl who had been desperate for a shred of kindness had almost been turned away by Abel until she had stepped forward and offered to mentor her and teach her to use the immense magic that ran so strongly within her body. In order to convince Abel though, she had been forced to take Fiona to the ramparts and given her one quick lesson on magic and had her unleash a torrent of lightning upon the monsters.
That had been all it took for Fiona to be inducted into the Duchy. And then Siegren had arrived not too long afterwards and those two had become inseparable.
“You’ll be missed here, Judy will ask after her big sister all the time.” She said with a quirk of her lips. Her baby grew in the shelter and safety of the Duchy’s wall, hidden away from the world. It had been a deal she had given the Duke of Heylon, the magic of the last of the ancient mages in exchange for a new life. Outside of their little family of outcasts, only the closest servants and soldiers knew that she was Penelope Eckart the spurned and hunted former lover of the Emperor of Eorka. To everyone else, she was Thea Beckett, the Archmage.
“I’ll miss her too.” There was a sad smile on Fiona’s pretty face.
Penelope sighed. “I’m not going to stop you, I, more than anyone, know what it means to be looked down upon and to need that sort of revenge. But… you’ll have to tell Siegren before you leave, well, there’s still a few months anyway.”
She saw Fiona bite her lip. She could understand, Penelope had once had someone she cared for greatly, in the same way Fiona had. But unlike Fiona, her own love had turned against her and left her pregnant, injured, and on the run with only her loyal maid to count on. They had traversed to another continent, her hair cut short and dyed and had met the Duke of Heylon in the Capital by happenstance on his last trip to the Capital.
In a stroke of brilliance, Penelope had identified herself, making a bet that this man would care more about her abilities and usefulness as a mage than about her past and the warrants of arrest and execution from a foreign empire. And her bet had been successful. They had become fast friends even if he was her employer, though neither of them could ever fathom where the rumours of them being lovers had come from.
When the voices of her ancestors had been too much to ignore and with Fiona here, she had kissed Judy goodbye and asked Abel to take care of both girls before she left the anonymity and comforts of the Duchy and returned to an Eorka in flames with Emily in tow.
They had arrived in time to save Aerith and her family before she dealt with Leila, witnesses aplenty. And without even bothering to see anyone else from her past, she let Emily take her staggering and ill body away using the last of the teleportation scrolls. And since then, Penelope had refused to even take a step out of Heylon territory.
Though she knew that her time as Thea Beckett may soon be coming to an end. When Sam had left, under her prompting and support, she hadn’t known just how talented of an artist he was, not until he had left her a painting of her with the girls. Sam had been one of her favourite merchants in the Duchy but he was meant for so much more and she could see that. She had given him quite a sum, investing in his business and helping him start a merchants guild and trading company as his business partner.
When she had seen the painting, she knew that it was only a matter of time before she was discovered. And even if Sam was her friend and she trusted him not to rat her out, it was highly likely that he would slip up.
And she was right.
-
-
Cedric was inspecting one of the guilds and looking over the imports and other documentations that would be needed if they were going to use them as an official supplier within the Imperial Palace when he saw it.
Sketches in a bound notebook, small water coloured images of a beautiful magenta haired woman with turquoise eyes. There were a few other people there. He recognized the freckled brown haired maid, but not the silver haired red eyed girl, or the dark haired boy.
“Oh!” The Merchant, Sam, who co-owned the guild with a silent partner had exclaimed. The man was a foreigner and was thus treated with more scrutiny. “I’m sorry, I meant to put my sketchbook away.”
“Are these your works?”
He smiled sheepishly. “They are. These were my friends in Heilon.”
“Heylon?” Yes, he remembered this was a man from the monster infested Heylon territory. Then that meant that was where Lady Penelope had been hiding all these years.
“Yes, my hometown. Miss Thea…” He began as he flipped to the portrait of Penelope Eckart. “Was my favourite customer. She’s the Archmage of Heylon and the rumoured lover of the Duke of Heylon.”
Well… His Majesty wouldn’t be pleased with the last part but he would be happy to know where she was.
“How much for the sketchbook?” He asked as he took out the Imperial check book. The treasurer and coin counters will no doubt rail at him after this but the Emperor would be able to silence them.
“You want to buy my sketchbook?” He asked blankly. His tone flat.
Cedric nodded. “Yes, well, you’re a good artist. I think you have potential and I’d like to show this to the Emperor as well… and Miss Thea looks quite beautiful…” He trailed off awkwardly.
The Merchant was nodding along. “Yes, many a man often fall for Miss Thea at first sight but the Duke has always been overprotective of her.”
“So, will you let me buy it?”
“Are you serious?” He asked. “Because it’s just a small hobby of mine.”
“Yes, yes.” He said calmly, trying not to show how eager he was.
The man was quiet for a moment before he agreed and named an exorbitant price. The mark of a great merchant. He allowed himself to be swindled that day all for the sake of a vacation… err… to calm the Emperor’s mind and heart.
-
-
Cedric submitted his vacation forms in person during a meeting between the Emperor and the Eckarts, the Marquis Verdandi was there as a witness as well.
“Is this really the time, Porter?” The Emperor asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Please sign or I’ll quit.”
“What makes you think I’ll accept your resignation?”
“I’ll run away and leave you to be buried under a mountain of paperwork.” He told the man in a deadpan. “I dare you.”
“I can just detain you.”
“I won’t sign or sort a single paper.” He threatened.
“No vacation.”
Cedric grinned sadistically. “Then I won’t give you the information I have on Lady Penelope’s whereabouts.”
That had them all sitting up tall and alert. “There’s been some news? It isn’t in the reports.”
“Because I only came across it an hour ago, and by mere happenstance not from search teams or investigators.” He said. Then he sighed. “But it seems you don’t care to find out.”
The vacation form was immediately signed and approved. He inwardly cheered.
“Now, the information.” The Emperor demanded.
He brought out the sketchbook. “She’s in Heylon as the Duke’s Archmage.”
The Emperor flipped through the sketchbook immediately, hands tracing the lines of the sketches and delicately caressing the paint on the ones that had it. “She goes by Miss Thea Beckett now… and…” He hesitated. “There are rumours that she is now the Duke’s lover.”
The hand that was on the table raised slightly before he slammed it down again and caused the table to break under the sheer strength.
“Prepare an envoy. I wish to see the demons of Heylon myself.” He said coldly as he stood and walked away.
Cedric nodded, his hands clutching the precious piece of paper in front of him. His promised vacation had finally come! He couldn’t stop the tears from falling from his eyes.
-
-
“You’re very good with her.” She said as she came to where her friend stood by the window, Judith carried in his arms as he stared at Siegren and Fiona from afar. The golden curls falling down her back helped to cover the golden wings. Her daughter slept soundly in the arms of the Duke of Heylon, a man she believed was her uncle and the closest thing she had to a father. Was her father in every way that mattered anyway. The same way he was the only father both Siegren and Fiona would ever truly know and the only one who deserved that title in their lives, even if they would never acknowledge it.
“She burst into my office again.” He said grumpily.
She grinned. “But you didn’t send her away this time either.” She patted the sleeping child. “And I bet you plied her with sweets while having her sit still on your lap and teaching her to read from the reports and teaching her numeracy skills on top of that.”
He didn’t answer but he turned away with a smile. “She’ll need it when she grows.”
“That she will.”
“… I intend to name Fiona my heir.” That wasn’t surprising. “She deserves it. She would be a great ruler for Heylon. Especially with Siegren by her side to rein her in when she got a bit too much and got weird ideas.”
“You’re one to talk about weird ideas.” He snorted. “You’re not offended I didn’t name Judith?”
She shook her head. Judith was far too young for that and besides… “Becoming the Duke of Heylon would almost certainly reveal her identity. I want her to have her freedom.”
Keeping Judith safe from the clutches of those terrible people from Eorka was her main priority.
She refocused her attention on the not-couple down below who were speaking happily, laughter springing free from the two. "Do you think she'll return?"
"I've already made plans to ensure it." Abel told her as he gestured to his desk.
She picked up the papers and read it curiously, a smile of amusement took its place on her face. "You're going to have her go through all the finances of Heylon's residence in the Capital? And you've enlisted your old Nanny into enacting this plan? You truly are efficient and cruel."
"If it will get that child back here where she belongs, then yes, I will." Abel said. She nodded. She knew that Abel saw Fiona as his daughter, cared about her in such a way, the same way he cared about Judith. And he was quite fond of Siegren too. That was why he was working hard to ensure that their family would remain intact. She wouldn't be surprised if the two men followed Fiona to the Capital eventually.
She didn't mind, even if she would be left with a despondent little girl later on. She could manage Heylon while they were gone. And she would make sure her family would have a warm home to return to when the time came. But if Fiona found happiness elsewhere… she would do her best to convince the men to let her be, even if she doubted she would be successful.
I don’t know whether or not this will ever be fleshed out since I have so many projects but it was an interesting concept that came to me a few hours ago. I also don’t know if I want to keep this as Cha Siyeon or OG Penelope, and whether the Fiona here is OG Fiona or the Author Fiona, though I’m leaning more towards OG Fiona. Anyway, this post brings about the end of my five hour writing sprint which consists of a. The maid’s revenge, b. Of poison and dragons, c. This poisoned cup, and d. This lovely little post. Yes, I’m in my angst mood right now.
#death is the only ending for the villain#death is the only ending for a villainess#villains are destined to die#vadd#death is the only ending for the villainess#fanfic#fic ideas#judith regulus#callisto regulus#cedric porter#penelope eckart#penelope eckhart#author of my own destiny#i became the wife of the male lead
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Todoroki Shouto's lesser twin, Todoroki Toshou. His quirk is lukewarm water and his hair is pink.
I know nothing about him but I already love him.
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lamentation | FIVE
{peter parker x fem!reader AU}
based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven
SERIES MASTERLIST
word count: 4,111
warnings: mostly fluff, some angst toward the end, mentions of injury
18+!!! minors stay away!
You didn't get much work done with Peter during the weekend. Following your emotional outburst over the argument between the pair of you, Peter stayed at your house surprisingly late into the night. You both seemed to agree the project could wait for a different day, and instead of working you spent the evening talking. While you didn't have much to talk about, Peter had a seemingly endless supply of subject matter to keep you both entertained.
Already you could tell that you were growing attached to him, probably far too much and far too soon, but there was no stopping it any longer. He made you feel good things and gave you a sense of normalcy you'd been craving for so long; there was no way you were giving that up any time soon. If he hurt you in the end, you'd deal with the pain because at least you got a bit of relief in the present.
That Friday evening had been one of the best nights of your life, regardless of how mundane or even boring it probably would have seemed to your younger self. You learned a lot about Peter, more than he'd already forced you to know in the weeks leading up to that night, and you answered all his random and silly questions about yourself. You learned that his favorite colors were red and blue, totally un-ironically, and that he'd gotten his abilities the summer between the eighth and ninth grades.
You also learned that Peter was just as stubborn and competitive as you used to be, and something about that knowledge sparked some of the old flame back into you. So, chasing after the fire that used to warm you, you made a deal with him. If he could prove to you that the Avengers were not as bad as you thought they were, then you would willingly do your speech in favor of the superheroes.
"You--you what?" Peter sputtered, laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach with both hands and gasp for air, "You really cut the hair off of all of your sister's dolls because she beat you at checkers?"
You snorted, a harsh sound that made your nose ache as you laughed along with him, "Yes! She knew how competitive I was, and she took that risk by challenging me. I never lost a game of checkers again after that."
He slipped into another torrent of giggles much to your amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a beautiful smile that made your own chuckling soften as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of it. Peter Parker was certainly a very breathtaking spectacle to behold, and you had to wonder why he wasn't so much more popular in school. You knew why, everyone could see the relentless torment that Flash Thompson unleashed on him, but it still made no sense to you.
What was there to dislike about Peter? Just days ago you'd been beyond annoyed by him, and weeks before that you'd been entirely uncaring of his existence, but already that all seemed completely nonsensical to you. Now that you'd let him in, given him a chance, it seemed impossible to ever not like him again.
Wheezing breathlessly, Peter chortled, "I can't even judge you. One time, when Ned and I were thirteen, he bet that he could finish a LEGO set before me. He was going to beat me, and I may have accidentally knocked it off the table so he had to start over."
"So," you finally gasped as you stopped laughing, "so, what you're saying is, you're just as stubborn as I am and we're definitely never going to agree on this project?"
His chuckles slowly died out as he nodded, "I guess so."
You knew what he meant to say, and that was the fact that he didn't feel he was being needlessly stubborn in this situation. This wasn't about competition to him. No, this was about him not seeing himself or his colleagues in a negative light; he couldn't fathom the distaste you had for them.
As much as you disagreed, you could understand that. You could understand how he would see the people he worked alongside as good people. It made sense that he would have a different perspective when he was the one out saving civilians from big and small horrors alike, rather than being the one to suffer the consequences of the destruction that happened as a result.
Along with your understanding, you also didn't think that Peter was a bad person. You couldn't possibly imagine him causing harm, intentionally or not, and maybe that was why you said what you did next. Maybe that was why you proposed, "I'll make you a deal. If you can prove to me that the Avengers are not who I think they are, then I'll take your stance for the speech. Give me a reason to speak positively of them, and I will."
Even now, as you made your way toward your locker at school on Monday, you weren't entirely sure what had made you decide to propose such a thing. You were pretty certain that you were setting Peter up for failure. In your eyes, there wasn't much of anything that Peter could say, do, or show you that would change your mind. Nothing would make what had happened to your sister okay or forgivable.
Yet, he clearly did not feel the same way. Peter looked as if he was walking on sunshine that morning as he pranced along beside you, a triumphant grin on his face as he whispered, "I have a plan."
"A plan?"
He grinned wider as you looked at him curiously, "Yes, a plan. To change your mind."
Quirking an eyebrow expectantly, you waited for him to elaborate as you gathered your things from your locker for class. He never did, only continuing to practically vibrate with excitement beside you in silence. "Are you going to tell me what this plan of yours is?" you prodded.
"No." When you looked at him in confusion he continued, "If I tell you what it is, you're not going to have an open mind. You're going to think of all the reasons it won't change your mind, and then it won't."
Suddenly, you were the one chasing after Peter instead of the other way around. All day you found yourself glancing to him suspiciously and following him around much like he had you in all the weeks leading up to your budding friendship, and it was a big change of pace for you. You felt a little pathetic following him like a lost puppy, but you were nosy and wanted to know what his plan was.
No matter how much you pried, though, he didn't budge. In Calculus he ignored your staring and whispers with a far too smug smirk on his face, though you secretly liked the way it looked on him. Who would have guessed that Peter Parker could be arrogant?
In Gym class he teasingly ran faster than you could keep up the moment you asked again, only slowing down once you begrudgingly promised to leave the subject alone. Though he did tell you he wouldn't run faster than you anyways because people would probably get suspicious if he suddenly turned into a track star. He had to play the roll of the un-athletic nerd regardless.
At lunch he didn't sit with you for the first time since he'd started joining you. He'd waved at you from where he sat with his friends, Ned and MJ, but you found yourself leaving the cafeteria rather than joining him. You weren't ready to take that next step yet; being open with Peter was hard enough, and you weren't ready to have to talk to two more people. Still, you tried to pretend it didn't bother you despite the little sinking feeling you felt in your stomach.
He still sat with you in Speech class, which you were relieved by. Ms. Lovell left everyone to work with their partners on their project, warning the class sternly, "You may have until the end of the semester, but don't slack off now. I'm only giving you two other class periods after now to work on this."
Peter quietly joked, "I bet she just forgot to grade our homework from last week."
When the woman sat down at her desk and pulled over a stack of papers, uncapping her favorite red-glitter pen that she always graded with, you both fell into a fit of giggles that you had to work very hard to keep quiet. It only took one glare from the teacher to have you ducking behind your book to hide how red your face turned, both from embarrassment and repressed laughter. You did, however, notice to fleeting expression of shock on her face to see it was you giggling in her class.
Not much work was done during that class, though for you and Peter the work couldn't be started yet. You still hadn't decided on a stance, and until Peter either succeeded with his plan or failed as you expected, a decision wouldn't be made. Instead, you both whispered to each other about whatever random thoughts seemed to pop into your heads in the moment.
"People are staring at me," you acknowledged, glancing around the class timidly at the sight of many students giving you curious stares, "is there something on my face?"
Peter laughed, though he quickly disguised it as a cough, and responded, "No, they're just confused."
Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the boy with the warm brown eyes who was grinning at you proudly. "Why?" you asked, shifting uncomfortably. You were used to people giving you strange looks, but these were different. They weren't looking at you as if they were pitying you, or as if they were waiting for you to finally break down and go crazy. No, now they were looking to you with wonder and interest.
He bit the inside of his cheek, a pensive expression blossoming over his face as he thought of how to say whatever he planned to tell you. For a moment you admired the way his ruffled eyebrows furrowed, his lips pouting slightly as he pursed them in concentration. Only when the strange, old fluttering in your heart and your stomach started to erupt did you look away and wrinkle your nose.
You didn't want to admit it, but you knew exactly what that feeling was. It was a feeling you hadn't encountered since before the incident, and it was a feeling you didn't want to experience now. So, you told yourself it was just nerves over having a friend again, and squashed the stupid butterflies down as hard and as fast as you could.
"Well," Peter finally started, eyes wide and a little nervous as if he expected you to potentially be offended by his words, "you haven't exactly... talked to anyone in awhile."
Suddenly, it clicked. People were staring because you weren't the reclusive, closed-off, depressed girl you had been for the past thirteen months. They were staring because you seemed... happy. "Oh." you nodded, the sound feeble and slightly broken, "I guess that makes sense."
People were staring at you because you were the girl with the dead sister who they'd been waiting to witness implode, and suddenly you were talking, and laughing, and smiling. You were talking, laughing, and smiling with Peter Parker, no less. They were looking at you because you seemed fine.
Were you fine? Peter shot you a few concerned glances as you seemed to slip back into the repression you'd been living in for so long, but you gave him a small smile as if to say, "I'm okay." You were okay.
For the first time since she died, now that you really thought about it, you truly felt okay. You felt good. You felt happy. Sure, you were terrified of the little flutters you felt whenever you stared a little too long at Peter's face, and you still felt all the bad things you'd been feeling, but now you had good things to balance them out.
It would have been so easy to slip back into that cycle of beating yourself up again. That little voice in the back of your head was still there, the one that sounded like your sister but so different at the same time, that told you that you didn't deserve to have friends. You didn't deserve to make new friends, or feel those butterflies that meant something more, not when she couldn't do those things ever again.
It would have been easy, but you didn't want that for yourself anymore. If you did that, if you pushed Peter away because of her, then you would be left with all the bad feelings and more of them. You didn't deserve that. So, you took a deep breath, and gave a more genuine smile, and met the stares head on. She would have wanted you to be happy, and you deserved to be happy.
After school, Peter left you with a swimming mind and a million thoughts of what his plan could be. He didn't mention anything, and you wondered how long you would have to wait for whatever it was to come to fruition. What could it be?
You spent the afternoon in the family room, an action that seemed to startle and befuddle your parents who watched you like hawks. Though they didn't say anything, only greeting you casually as if everything were totally normal, you could practically hear the gears turning in their heads. You could imagine their thoughts of, "Who is this alien that looks like our child?"
As confused as they were, eventually the decided to just go with it. Your mom curled up on the sofa with you, and your father fell into his recliner just like old times, and the three of you watched a movie in a comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. Nobody dared to look at or acknowledge the empty middle cushion on the sofa where she'd always sat, or your mother's empty lap that she mindlessly kept brushing her hands over as if waiting for your sister's head to be laying there waiting for her hair to be played with.
Nobody dared, until you did. You weren't entirely sure what compelled you to do it. It seemed as if you were urged to do lots of things you thought you never would these days. But, after half an hour of watching your mother's twitching hands, you laid your head on her lap and closed your eyes to avoid seeing her face.
After a moment, her fingers brushed through your wind-tangled hair and you felt peace. She had always been the one to do this. She had always been the one to burrow her way into your mother's lap, begging to have her scalp massaged or her back traced delicately, and now you understood why. It was comforting for more than one reason.
On one hand, it was just physically relaxing. But, on a more complex level, it gave you a sense of closeness you hadn't realized you'd been longing for. You felt closer with your mother who worked through the tangles in your hair with her fingers, gently scratching your scalp with her manicured fingernails. You felt closer with your sister, too. It felt as if you had a small piece of her to hold onto in that moment, and it was comforting.
By the time the movie ended, you were nearly asleep and the sun had set some time ago. Your mother was the first to break the silence, softly rousing you, "(Y/N), honey, do you want dinner?"
You did, but before you could answer, your phone rang loudly. Glancing at the screen and seeing it was Peter, you nibbled your lip to hide a smile and stated, "Yeah, I'll be down in a minute." They didn't protest as you raced up to your bedroom to answer the call.
"Hello?"
"(Y/N)! Hey!" Peter practically shouted, though his voice cut out with what sounded like a windstorm. "Can you hear me?"
For a moment the audio cut out and you wondered if the call dropped, but then the crackling wind returned and you questioned, "What are you doing?"
Abruptly the sound ended, and he was breathing a little heavily as he responded, "Sorry, I was swinging--"
"Peter! Are you really on your phone while doing that?"
He laughed, "Calm down! My suit, well, Karen, the AI in my suit, is connected to my phone. Completely hands free--I promise."
Your mind flashed back to that night on the roof, the night he'd stopped you, and you remembered how he'd asked a woman named Karen what he was supposed to do. Now it all made sense. You'd been a little curious about who Karen was ever since that night, and now that you knew it was some sort of artificial intelligence that Peter had given such a human name to, you had to laugh.
"Why are you calling me, Spiderman?" you joked.
There was some quiet rustling, as if he were moving around, and he spoke quieter, "I'm on patrol. I just--maybe this is stupid, but I just thought if maybe I could show you the good things I do you'd see that we don't just destroy stuff."
It went silent for a moment before he continued, "I can't exactly take you with me, because that would be stupid, but you could listen."
You hesitated in responding. A part of you wanted to tell him that it was a stupid idea, for multiple reasons, but you decided against it. How would he ever prove anything to you if you didn't give him the chance?
So, you swallowed your protests, and said, "Okay."
"I'll warn you now it's usually pretty boring. A lot of nights I just swing around for awhile and go home without seeing anyone or anything."
That was strangely relieving. You hoped that tonight would be one of those nights; not because you didn't want him to have the chance to really enact his plan, but because you worried for him. What if having you metaphorically there with him distracted him? What if you distracted him and caused him to get hurt?
For awhile, it was a boring night. You and Peter went back and forth, taking turns telling stupid jokes to see who would crack and laugh first, and inevitably he won. He had an endless supply of disgustingly cheesy science puns that left you in stitches every time, even if you'd already seen the joke before on one of his many t-shirts.
You got him to laugh too, though, with all of the dead-pan anti-jokes you may have been secretly googling as you told them. Sometimes the wind would return, alerting you that he was swinging around the city, and every now and then he'd almost forget you were listening as he gave little exclamations of exhilaration in the moment. It was cute, even if the shouts nearly blew out your ear drum every time.
It was a boring night, until it wasn't. One moment the wind was making your phone speaker cut out, and the next it was eerily quiet and you had to pull your phone away to see if the call had dropped. Putting the device on speaker phone, you questioned quietly, "Peter?"
"I'm still here," he whispered, "I see something. Be quiet for a minute."
You listened and waited with baited breathe, probably panicking more than enough for the both of you, as Peter started speaking to Karen. He asked her to start something he called enhanced reconnaissance mode, and you were bursting with suspense and curiosity. What did he see? What was happening?
It felt like an eternity before he acknowledged you again, "Okay, I see a woman cornered by some guys. I think they're trying to... to attack her."
He didn't have to say the word for you to know what he meant, and you felt your stomach explode with anxiety and fear for a woman you couldn't even see. "What are you going to do?" you asked.
"I'm gonna web 'em up, and wait for the police with her." he stated, "I won't be able to talk for a bit, okay?"
And then, everything changed. One moment the wind was back as he swung down to the scene, and suddenly Peter was in full Spiderman mode and almost unrecognizable to you. He was sassier, playful even, despite how serious you knew he really was as he antagonized the bad guys.
The banter didn't last long. You heard the woman scream in terror as a loud ruckus rang through your phone, and Peter groaned. Was he hurt? Did he get hit? There were more thuds and dull smacking sounds, Peter and the men alike grunting and shouting out loudly as she continued to break the atmosphere with her screaming.
You wanted to call out for him, to make sure he was okay, but you were paralyzed in fear. What if you called his name and it distracted him, causing him to really get hurt? But, what if he already was hurt and forgot you were there to potentially call for help?
The fight lasted awhile, before finally the woman's screaming ceased as Peter told her, "Hey, hey! I got them, I got you. It's okay. Everything's okay."
"Peter?" you whispered.
"Everything's okay. It's going to be alright."
He was speaking to you, though he had to phrase it in a way that it sounded as if he were just speaking to her. You didn't believe him that everything was fine, though. It was easy to hear just how winded he was in the way his voice was strained, weaker than before.
Peter was hurt, and you were terrified. His plan was just as stupid as you'd thought it to be. Not because he didn't prove anything to you, because you were happy he'd saved the woman and he had shown you a good thing he did, but because he'd forced you to witness his pain and suffering yet again. You'd had to witness him actually get hurt this time, and the woman's screams still echoed in your ears.
It brought you back to that day. Her screams reminded you of the chaos following the building's collapse, reminded you of how hoarse and sore your throat had been from screaming just like that. Screams of pure horror and panic.
Only after the police finally left, thanking Spiderman for his help, did Peter drop the faux strength and softly whimper, "Shit, that really hurt."
"My window is open."
With that, you hung up and left him to decide what to do by himself.
Your mother quietly knocked at your door, opening it slowly as she poked her head into your room, "Dinner is done if you still want to eat."
Forcing the best smile you could manage, you muttered, "I'm actually not feeling very good. I think I'll just go to bed." You wished you could say you hadn't seen the disappointment written all over her face, clearly let down by you pulling away again, but she nodded nonetheless and shut the door as she trudged away again.
You laid in bed for hours unable to fall asleep, listening to every noise outside with hitched breathe. Was that little knock Peter? Was he at your window? By the time your phone told you it was nearing sunrise, you gave up. He wasn't coming, and you tried to ignore all the horrible thoughts that consumed you.
What if he was so injured he couldn't make it to you? What if he was out on the street somewhere, hurt badly and in need of help? You cursed yourself for hanging up, but you couldn't bring yourself to call him back. It was a strange battle of worry and anger, with anger winning out in the end and stopping you from reaching out.
You were angry at Peter for his stupid plan, causing you to think of all the awful things he seemed to keep at bay during the daytime. You were angry at those men for hurting him. Mostly, you were angry at yourself for being so stubborn. Why were you being prideful and letting the anger stop you from making sure he was alright?
You: are you alive
Peter Parker: yes
Peter Parker: go to sleep
Peter Parker: see you tomorrow?
You: yes. good night.
SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:
@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony
#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker series#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#peter parker au#peter parker x you#peter parker oneshot#peter parker mcu#peter parker#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x you#spiderman#spiderman mcu#spiderman au#spiderman imagine#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland au#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland series#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut
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Prompt Fic: Effing Bards
For @ibelieveinturtles (TaserBones Fantasy AU)
Note: This was definitely inspired by Dnd bard shenanigans.
“Did you just insult that man to death?”
Brock stared in disbelief at their fallen foes, one of whom still clutched his head. He had been assigned to escort a party of wizards to a remote town where they were conducting research on the recent plague of monsters that had started coming down from the hills. On the way, they had been attacked by robbers and the bard, Darcy, had unleashed a torrent of verbal viciousness at the one threatening her wizard friend Jane. The man had clutched his head, convulsed, and died.
Darcy beamed triumphantly at Brock, helping Jane pick up her scattered belongings.
“I did,” she confirmed. “I knew that spell would come in handy someday.”
She slipped her lute case back over her shoulder and turned to the rest of the group.
“Is everybody okay?” She asked, looking over at the disheveled wizards like a worried mama hen.
There were nods, grunts and words of assent from the party and Brock breathed a sigh of relief even as he barked orders to his fellow guards. This encounter would have been ugly had Nicholas the Furious not forced the wizards to accept the bodyguards. Darcy had made a fuss and insisted they would be fine “without grumpy Boney face and his scary henchman.”
Brock had looked askance at her and muttered “I’ll show you scary, bard,” under his breath and throughout the whole journey, Darcy had been doing her best to get under his skin: if it wasn’t the impudent jibes about his bones, it was the bawdy songs she sang and impish smirk in her bright blue eyes when she looked at him. Brock thought he’d end up either losing his mind or doing something stupid, like kissing her.
“Alright everyone! Back to the road,” he ordered. “We can’t have any more delays if we want to reach the village before dark. Trust me, none of you want to be out here after dark. There are much worse things than robbers out here.”
With only a little grumbling, the wizards remounted their horses and the party set out again.
Meanwhile, Darcy was watching Brock with great interest, planning her next tactic for getting him to break his stern, forbidding air. The fight with the robbers had made her decide that distracting him would not be a good plan while they were still in route, but the second they reached the safety of town, all bets were off.
Happily, their journey was finished without incident, and Darcy herded her scientists to the local inn, so they could eat and rest. Having seen them all tucked safely in bed, she headed over to the local tavern, where she guessed the guards had gone to unwind.
Sure enough, they were there slouched around a table in the corner, drinking and grumbling.
Darcy sauntered over and plopped down beside Rumlow.
“Hey boys, mind some company?”
The one called Rollins smiled at her.
“Not at all,” he said invitingly.
Rumlow glared at his companion.
Darcy’s eyebrow raised.
“Wow, someone is a little CROSS tonight. What has your breeches in a knot, good sir?”
The soldier glared at her, now, and she could see he was flushing a bit and not meeting her eyes. Oh, interesting. She could work with this.
“You do,” Rollins said helpfully.
“Shut up!” Rumlow hissed.
“Fine, fine, I’ll leave you two to it.” And with that, Rollins got up and moved away, leaving Brock and Darcy in a stare off.
“Just admit it, Brock. You find me intriguing.”
Darcy batted her eyelashes at him.
“I find you Damn annoying, that’s what,” growled Brock.
“Why?” Darcy asked, crossing her arms.
“Because you were making it so damn hard to do my job with your……”
He gestured wildly with his hands and Darcy smirked.
“With my devastating beauty and eloquent, moving songs?” She finished with a snicker.
Brock snorted.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.
“Tell me, how did you fall in with a group of wizards?”
“Well, as you’ve seen, wizards can be somewhat oblivious when they’re deep in their studies,” Darcy explained. “I once planned on becoming one of them, hence I briefly apprenticed under Jane. It turned out, Bard college was a much more fitting place for me, but I still live with her and make sure she gets necessary sleep and sustenance. Also, she finds my songs soothing, unlike SOME.”
“That’s because the ones you sang today were clearly meant to have the exact opposite effect, madam Bard.”
There was heat in Brock’s gaze as he stared at her and Darcy gulped.
“D-did it work?” She asked hopefully.
Brock’s answer was to turn towards her and kiss her very soundly. Her arms flailed in surprise for a second, before she brought them to rest on his very muscular shoulders.
From his place in the opposite corner, Rollins observed their kiss become very heated, followed shortly by Darcy dragging Brock out the door, both wearing matching smirks.
“Effing Bards.” Rollins sighed.
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Nobody Listens to Kix
Previous | Next | Masterlist
Case (Not Applicable): Tusk Cat
"You want me to what?"
The gathered troopers made a rather remarkable amount of noise as they all attempted to explain at the same time, but Kix's gaze was firmly fixed on the creature sitting in the middle of the large group.
It was feline for sure: it's slitted pupils and angrily flicking tail said that clearly enough. Kix was fairly certain it was a Tusk Cat, but far miniaturized. He had seen the holovids from the Battle of Naboo. Those Tusk Cats had been large enough to serve as mounted cavalry. This one, though appearing full-grown, was smaller than General Skywalker's droid.
"Can you help it?" one of the troopers finally asked.
Kix rubbed at his jaw. He hadn't understood the words of the explanation, but the problem was clear enough: the Tusk Cat's hindquarters had been skewered by a thin piece of needle-like wire.
"You know I'm not a vet, right?"
"Aw, come on, Kix!" Fledge wheedled. "You can fix him up with a little bit of bacta, right?"
Kix opened his mouth, ready to unleash a scathing torrent of reasons why bacta shouldn't be treated like a fix-all tool, but he was interrupted by another trooper. This one was new enough to the 501st that his armor was shiny and unpainted and he still hadn't earned a name.
"I researched it, and Corellian Gurrcats respond well to bacta treatments," the trooper offered.
"That is good to know," Kix said with a nod. "Of course, it's not entirely helpful as this is a Tusk Cat from Naboo."
The assembled troopers guffawed at that.
"I knew it," Quasi jeered.
Strike, standing beside him, knocked his brother's shoulder. "No, you didn't."
"Well," Quasi amended, "I knew it wasn't a karkin' Gurrcat!"
"Hey," Bet said suddenly. "What if that's your name, CT-9367? Gurr?"
All teasing stopped immediately as the troopers grew distracted, convincing CT-9367 that Gurr was an excellent name. After a minute or so, the newly christened Gurr grinned around at his brothers.
"Gurr," he kept repeating happily. "I'm Gurr!"
"But what are we going to do about the… uh… Tusk Cat?" Quasi asked.
The men turned, as one, to Kix. The medic sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm really not a vet, troopers."
Even as he said it, Kix's gaze was drawn to the wounded miniature Tusk Cat. The creature was in pain and would likely die from its injuries if Kix refused to treat it.
"But you don't have anything else to do!" Fledge pointed out. Even with the warning stares and thrown elbows among his brothers, Fledge didn't notice Kix's venomous expression. "I mean, the civvies have their own doctors, and the Jedi healers are out here, too. No one is going to choose a clone battlefield medic-"
He cut off abruptly, looking guilty. "Kix, I didn't - didn't mean it that way. You're an excellent medic, the best one we've got…"
Kix stared at him. "I'll remember your preference for Jedi and civilian doctors the next time you forget to seal your helmet," he said acidly.
Obnoxiously loud laughter rang out from the group, embarrassing Fledge and startling the wounded Tusk Cat. Everyone had witnessed the aftermath when Fledge had failed to seal his helmet during a dust storm on an Outer Rim planet. The collection of rashes and small cuts on his face and neck had been difficult to miss.
However, Kix had to admit that Fledge had a point. The Zillo beast had wreaked havoc across Republic City and, though Kix knew he could help the injured, none of the Coruscanti civilians seemed willing to trust a clone medic over a doctor or a Jedi healer. And he did have a few tubes of bacta gel in his medic pack that no one would miss if they were used…
"Has anyone tried touching it yet?" Kix asked, drawing the pack around to the front of his torso where he could rummage through it.
The troopers snapped into soldier mode for the first time since the Zillo beast had been killed.
"It seems docile," Bet reported, "but it's in pain. If you jostle it much, it'll snap at you."
"It's teeth are sharp, but they can't break through plastoid or thick materials," Strike contributed, showing his bite-marked glove.
"From an initial Holonet search of the Tusk Cat, the wire would have hit no major organs," Fledge said. He was the only trooper who still wore his helmet, presumably so he could use the HUD to gather information.
Kix furrowed his brow in thought. "From the look of the Tusk Cat's body, it was a clean pierce, so we'll just have to worry about holding it still while we work. I don't have anything to numb the pain of an animal, not without knowing how concentrated to make the formula."
"So what do we do?" Gurr asked.
"Hold it as still as you can," Kix ordered, loading most of a bacta tube into the longest syringe he had brought.
"Poor cat," Quasi muttered as the other troopers nodded, glancing uncomfortably at the syringe. Each man grabbed parts of the Tusk Cat, hoping to hold it steady when it inevitably started to struggle.
"Keep a good grip, troopers," Kix told them. "If I end up getting my face gnawed off by a miniature Tusk Cat, I'll haunt you all."
Kix met the tip of the wire with his syringe, following it through the bony hindquarters of the Tusk Cat as he pulled the wire free. When he was done, the creature was impaled by the needle instead of the wire. Gently, he pulled the needle back through, releasing minute amounts of bacta gel as he went.
Of course, the moment he had touched the wire with the syringe, the Tusk Cat had gone berserk. The troopers, strong as the Kaminoans had bred them to be, were struggling to keep their grasp on a muscular creature roughly the same size as an R2 unit.
"Are you done?" Strike asked, beginning to pant a little. Kix couldn't blame him: the trooper had opted to hold the Tusk Cat's front legs, and he was forced to avoid its snapping jaws while Kix worked.
"Almost," Kix breathed, pulling the syringe away and picking up the small packet he had set beside his knee. With a clean swab, he applied a liquid bandage to the puncture wounds on either side of the Tusk Cat's spine. The animal's skin was heated from the irritation of the injury and the efforts of trying to escape the troopers' grips.
The moment the liquid bandage had sealed, Kix stepped back. "Okay, let go."
The troopers released the animal and everyone took several large steps back as it crouched down, hissed violently, and sprang to run into the underlevels of Republic City.
"Thank you, Kix," Gurr said, echoed by the other troopers.
Kix shook his head. "This never happened. If anyone asks, you didn't see me and I didn't see you. The last thing I need is to be taken to Kamino for reconditioning because I misused Republic assets to help someone's pet."
---
A/N - going through and adding gifs to these, but there are no gifs for tusk cats, so have a pretty gif of Kix instead!
#Nobody Listens to Kix#one-shot#but part of a series#clone trooper kix#fluffy#star wars the clone wars#clone troopers deserve better#coruscant
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I’m kind of proud of this bit ☺️
She turns to walk away, leaving him to free himself, and to find a way off this hell hole of an island. Only to stop in her tracks as he maniacally laughs. “Goddamn Baby that was SO hot!” It’s then that she notices the sizable tent in his pants. “It’s seems like we’re not to different after all.”
“WE ARE NOTHING ALIKE!” She screams unleashing another torrent of whipping, this time targeting the tent in his pants.
“Oh fuck yeah baby!” Crack! “FUCK YES!” Crack! “You really don’t think we’re- FUCK- anything alike? I wish I had a mirror babe!” Crack! Crack! Crack! By now he’s covered in his own blood, and panting heavily, but the tent still remained. “Your chest’s heaving, your eyes blown wide with lust, and trust me babe I know the look! Fuck I bet if I could come any closer to you I’d be able to SMELL your arousal!”
“Fuck you.” She says as she turns on her heels and away from him. She needed to be somewhere anywhere but in front of him. Anywhere but in front of his stare.
“Come closer and we can definitely make that happen!” He shouts after her while maniacally laughing again.
This just got GOOD!
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The Definition of Evil ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic
HERE WE HAVE ANOTHER WONDERFUL ANON PROMPT THAT IS VERY CUTE AND HOPEFULLY WILL LEAD TO LOTS OF CUTENESS AND WHOLESOMENESS! LET'S DO IT!
TAGGING: @darkipliler and @wilford-lee-warfstache
Wilford Warfstache was a very happy man. He was snuggled up in bed, nestled into the chest of the man he loved more than anything in the world, and said man was playing with his hair in the loveliest manner possible. Life was good. Wilford let out a gentle hum as he absently scrolled through Tumblr on his phone….and he ended up developing a frown. Now, he knew of course that all their fans on the internet were joking and being playful, but every time he saw a post about Dark being an “evil boi” or “the embodiment of Bad Shit™”, it got to Wilford a little bit. How could no one else see how perfect and sweet and wonderful Dark was?
‘What’s with the frown love?’
Wilford heard Dark ask, and when he looked up at him he couldn’t help but softly smile again. Dark was so considerate, and always noticed the subtlest things, whether it be specs of dust or changes in micro-expressions, Dark noticed all. Wilford let out a gentle sigh, softly kissing Dark’s chest as he set his phone aside and mumbled.
‘Sometimes I just hate how you’re cast as the evil baddie, y’know? I mean, I know us and the fans joke about it but….I wish they’d actually talk about how much of a sweetheart you actually are.’
Dark’s gaze softened down at Wilford, and he kissed Wilford’s temple tenderly with a smile. He was always caught off guard by Wilford’s dedicated love to him, and Dark just adored the hell out of Wilford Warfstache; he purred softly in response.
‘I know dear, but I assure you that I do not mind, frankly I find it quite fun projecting out my evil side and having that as my outward image…’
Dark softly nuzzled Wilford’s cheek, making the moustached man crack and smile and let out a hum at the affection, but then his frown returned as he looked up at his boyfriend.
‘But you don’t have an evil side, you’re sweet and tender to the core!’
Dark raised a surprised eyebrow; he accepted that yes, perhaps he was secretly nice, but he liked to think he did have quite a large degree of malevolence within him. Dark wondered of Wilford perhaps needed reminding of that fact. Dark playfully smiled, cocking his head at Wilford.
‘Oh? You don’t think I have any capacity for evil….at all?’
Wilford grinned, and playfully kissed Dark on the nose because he loved playing and being all soppy like this with him.
‘Nope! You are my tender red velvet cupcake through and through!’
Dark couldn’t help but blush at the nickname, trust Wilford to come up with nicknames that were unbearably flustering whilst somehow always being oddly fitting. Dark wasn’t going to let himself spiral into the realm of flusteredness though, that would only confirm Wilford’s words. Dark knew he had to prove his….darker side.
‘I bet I can prove you wrong.’
Dark smirked as Wilford cocked his head up at him curiously, before the moustached man squeaked as he was suddenly straddled by Dark, face heating up instantaneously. Wilford had no idea what was about to happen, but right now he didn’t care because he was blushing and giggling and getting giddier at how playful Dark was being. Wilford nibbled his lip as he spoke in a very excited voice.
‘Ohoho? Prahay tell how you plan toho do that?’
Dark smirked wider, cracked his knuckles, and crooned.
‘Raise your arms and you’ll see.’
As always with Wilford, his curiosity overcame any semblance of common sense inside him, and he immediately raised his arms. He grinned and cheekily wiggled for Dark as he replied.
‘Raised and ready honeypie.’
Dark chuckled fondly at how utterly adorable and giddy Wilford was, before he slipped his fingers under Wilford’s t-shirt onto his bare tummy so he could ever so gently tap the skin there. The light touches made Wilford gasp and tense….he knew what was coming now.
‘Oh I hope you are, because this is going to be truly malevolent….’
Wilford giggled at Dark’s purr, getting goose-bumps from nervous excitement. It was no secret that Wilford adored being tickled, especially by Dark….but ah…..Dark wasn’t going to give him what he wanted so easily.
‘Ohoho jeheez….’
Dark smirked, and let out a relaxed sigh, leisurely swirling and tracing his fingertips all over his soft sides and tummy.
‘Ahhhh yes, you’re very, very ticklish, aren’t you darling?’
Wilford bit his bottom lip as he let out the cutest whine known to man, Dark knew just how to tease him into flustered little pieces; that in combination with the gentle tickling was already making the whole thing rather….evil.
‘Yohohohou knohow I aham!’
Wilford giggled out, making Dark chuckle as his crimson eyes twinkled with loving amusement. Wilford flinched and whined even more when Dark’s fingers tapped just above his tender hipbones, and his cool, deep voice rang out unrelentingly.
‘I barely have to do anything and you’re a sweet little mess….perhaps in the future I should only tickle you like this, your reactions are ever so sweet….’
Wilford went utterly beet red at Dark’s words, stuttering with wide doe eyes as he squeaked before he could stop himself.
‘N-Nohohoho y-yohou cahan’t dohoho thahat!’
Dark raised an amused eyebrow at that, oh he’d so hoped his words would get a rise out of Wilford. He snickered smugly as he swirled a single fingertip in the bowel of one of Wilford’s hips, making the poor man whimper and buck as Dark crooned in a mock-curious tone.
‘Oh? Why ever not? I thought you’d prefer these gentler, less evil methods….’
Wilford gritted his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut….because for him, this tickly scenario was the most evil thing in the whole world. Something to know about Wilford is that the teasiest, gentlest tickles were the ones that got to him the most. They made him tingle endlessly and made his lee mood get bigger and bigger with every passing second, and as time went on….all Wilford started to want was for Dark to go faster. Wilford spluttered out of embarrassed, lee mood induced frustration.
‘Y-Yohohohou bahahastahard!’
Dark smirked and crooned with feigned innocence.
‘Oho I’m a bastard am I? Why is that?’
Wilford squeaked and twitched as Dark now slowly walked his fingers up Wilford’s sensitive body, before resting them in his armpits whilst Dark also rested his face on Wilford’s tummy. Dark felt even more satisfied now that he could feel Wilford’s shaky breaths and jumpy yips as he stammered.
‘Yohohohou knohow dahamn wehehell why!’
Wilford was crumbling from it all, and Dark was relishing in his lover’s demise.
‘You know, I’m not sure that I do….if there’s something else that you want, then you’ll have to ask me so I know what it is you’d like….’
Wilford’s eyes flew open….oh now that was just cruel. His whole body was shaking now as he lost the last of his composure, giggles overcoming him from the soft, blunt scrapes of nails in his armpits and stubble at his stomach.
‘Yohohohou ehehevil meheheanihie gohohoddammit Dahahark!’
Dark laughed gently into Wilford’s tummy as his fingertips carried on playing softly in his hollows, and he mused smugly to Wilford.
‘I’m still not hearing any requests for something different….’
Wilford was beyond flustered, which meant he had no filter left to stop him from crying out in flustered frustration.
‘Fuhuhuck gahahad p-p-plehehease bahahabe juhust gohoho fahahaster!’
Dark smiled, an utterly feral, gleeful smile, and gazed at Wilford adoringly.
‘Anything for you my love.’
Wilford then squealed and descended into laughter as Dark scratched relentlessly in his armpits, all the while he also nibbled the absolute hell out of the pudge of his lower belly. It was tickle torture at its finest and Wilford was relishing every damn second of it.
‘AAAHHHEHEHEE FUUHUHUCK AHAHAHA!!’
Dark hummed, warmth filling his chest at how Wilford thrashed and thrashed, but never once fought back; he lived for when he could make Wilford so happy like this.
‘Does it tickle good darling?’
Dark purred, and even amidst his shrieks of mirth Wilford managed to nod in response, crying out as he arched his back and clenched his fists.
‘YEHEHEHAHAHA!! TIHIHIHICKLES!!’
Dark genuinely thought his heart was going to melt, well, that’s what true love does to you. Dark gave his loving, kissy, nibbly attention to Wilford’s waistline now, but kept up the treatment at his armpits because he knew Wilford adored his underarms being tickled immensely. He murmured lovingly into Wilford’s skin.
‘It’s gorgeous how much you adore this….you’re so fucking cute, it drives me crazy…’
Wilford was a squealing, laughing, blushing mess of delight as tears built at the corners of his eyes; with Dark complimenting him too, that just drove him right over the edge of happy bliss.
‘IHIHIHI LOHOHOHOVE YOHOHOU!!!’
Wilford threw his head back amidst his proclamation, and Dark beamed as he replied.
‘I love you too, my darling Wilford.’
Dark grinned….then decided to really show his love. He unleashed a torrent of raspberries along Wilford’s tender waistline, whilst also vibrating his thumbs into his poor, sensitive hollows. Wilford absolutely howled with mirth as tears trickled down his cheeks, and he finally slammed his arms down.
‘AAHHHHH FAHAHAHAHACK NAHAHAHAHAAA!!!’
Dark smiled fondly, and then had mercy on his Wilford. He chuckled gently to himself as he got off of Wilford and lay back next to him in bed, and let out a happy hum when Wilford immediately came close so he could curl up at his chest. He was giggling, panting, grinning….and beautiful beyond sanity in Dark’s eyes.
‘Hoholy fuhuck….’
Dark smirked, and kissed Wilford’s jaw as he purred.
‘Had fun?’
Wilford gazed up at Dark, and grinned brightly as he let out a soft purr of his own.
'You’re so evil….I love you so much.’
Dark’s eyes gleamed with his own delight, before they shut along with Wilford’s as they kissed, utterly encased by mutual bliss and happiness beneath their blankets and encased by limbs. Maybe sometimes, just sometimes….to be truly evil, first you must be utterly good of heart.
WOOOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOOO LUV YOUS XX
#markiplier#markiplier egos#prompt#darkiplier#dark#wilford warfstache#warfstache#wilford#sfw#romantic#ego fic#ego fanfic#tickle fic#tickle fanfic#tickle#tickles#tickling#ticklish#luv these cuties
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One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader
A/N: Part Two! As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3
PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Grieving process. Age Gap. Character pregnancy. Unrequited feelings. I believe that is all.
Word Count: Roughly 3,200
“Jared!” You screeched just in time to find your body thrown in the air. You didn't let go, tugging the large, heavy weight in after you. The water rushed around your form. Cradling your fall. An angry cry left your lips as you surfaced. Glaring at your friend as he shook out his shaggy, dark hair. “You're such a shit.”
The sound of kids shouting out their own war cries sounded before they followed. The noise was enough to diffuse the mini war for a moment. They were careening their bodies into the water one at a time. Six cannonballs of various sizes.
“Teach you to sass,” He cackled, wincing every so slightly as you splashed at him in mock outrage. You dodged Shep as you bolted away from him; kicking your feet hard enough that Jared couldn't see well enough to dive at you until you had some distance between your bodies.
“Gen!” Before you could bring his wife into the mix, you were tackled again. Losing your shout in the liquid. Jared's unnatural length had given him the advantage. Again.
“They're going to kill each other,” Jensen muttered to Genevieve at the grill. Watching the scene from the corner of his eye. He'd refused to bet on who would come out on top. Both of you were too determined to end the mutual torture amicably.
“The kids will break it up before it gets there.” She answered with a grin as she watched your leg hook Jared's. The towering height was a disadvantage for the first time as you yanked the limb upwards with your entire strength. It slowed him down. His arms couldn't quite reach you before you threw him off balance. Crashing his bulk backwards. Creating waves that all six kids rode out. The high pitched betting on who would be winner making the brow rise towards his friend's wife. “Or maybe not,” The devilish smile on her love's face made her tsk in shame.
The hiatus-bearded forty four year old beside her stopped watching the meat for a moment. Focusing on his best friend and his nanny. You had promised yourself wouldn't leave. It had been just over two years since Danneel had passed away, and you'd kept your word.
For not knowing how to care for other people full time, you'd figured it out in a hurry. Ouchies were bandaged. Homework was helped. Food was prepared just in time for everyone to slink out of the rooms. You'd gone above and beyond. Taking up a housekeeper role, even. No one could have asked for a better person to fill what had been needed.
“He takes her out? He has kid duty.” Jensen warned; his own grin covered as he took a swig of his beer to compose himself. A recent habit he'd invested in when it came to anything involving you. Too many people found themselves asking questions. He didn't want to answer them.
“Fair enough,” She shrugged as she watched Jared toss you like you were a rag doll. “Overgrown children. The both of them.”
“Keeps life a little interesting,” He acknowledged easily. It really had. Helped keep it all lighthearted when things were anything but. It'd helped him survive the worst thing he'd ever experienced. “They're too busy pranking each other to turn their wiles on us, nowadays.” That brought up Gen's brow.
“She's given you wiles, huh?” Her own drink was brought to her lips to keep her face as neutral as could as she watched her friend turn the deadly chromatic gaze her way. Looking for a sign that would tell him to keep his mouth shut. He didn't find anything. Being in the acting business had its perks, and cons, when it came to their friendship.
“She's decided that I'm too serious, lately,” He grumbled. Finger quotes and all. Pulling on the years of playing Dean Winchester for a way to express his displeasure with adequate emphasis. He'd long ago accepted that the Winchester would pop his head up whenever he needed him to. Almost eighteen years on the job did that to a man. “She gets the kids in on the plots. Got Jared in on a few before they turned on each other.”
Jared had eagerly adopted a new victim in his favorite sport. Jensen had lost the urge to get down and dirty years ago. After an incident that may, or may not have, involved stink bombs in a trailer. He reserved his angst for Misha and other cast members. However, that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy watching his best friend meeting his match.
It was nearly as explosive as when him and Jared had been younger. The only thing that prevented a forced truce was the amount of space and time apart that you two experienced. It never had a chance to build up and become deadly. Or, that's what everyone was counting on, anyway.
“Did it work?” The Winchester's bitch face was turned her way. Two could play the acting game. She just read it better, “So, it did.”
“It's been two years. I don't need checked on, constantly,” He grumbled. Taking another swig as he flipped the burgers and hot dogs. She wasn't quite sure if he was talking about you or her nosing about.
“Jensen-”
“I'm fine, Gen...Really...I'm great.” She didn't look nearly convinced. Impatiently waiting for him to continue. He didn't disappoint. Unleashing the verbal diarrhea in a torrent after a moment of silence. He'd been stewing for too long. “She just...she's something else.” That seemed to catch her attention even more.
“Are you two fighting?” The question was carefully let out, ensuring that he knew she wasn't trying to push too hard. Simply expressing a bit of concern.
“No,” He scoffed. Despite that it's actually what he'd tried to enact more than once. You were just unshakeable. “She's just...she's always there, you know?” He sounded weak to his own ears, but that didn't stop the word vomit leaving his lips. “And she's always... on top of everything. God forbid I tell her what to do.” Every thing that had been itching at his nerves burst forth. “That's another thing! She isn't intimidated. At all. I told her to take a day off, or she's canned. What'd she do? She laughed. Laughed!” He was going to lose his mind over the saucy nanny. That much he was sure on.
“And you don't like that?” Gen's teasing tone made him mentally kick himself in the ass. His long suffering parent face came out at that. She missed the point. “Sounds like the perfect nanny if I'd ever heard of one.”
“She's not just a nanny,” He was aware that he sounded like a sulking child. It made his shoulders straighten even more. His voice deepening in frustration. “She joined the damn family. When she shouldn't've had to. Y/N was supposed to get back on her feet, and moved on.”
The lingering guilt came forward. You hadn't wanted to be trapped in role. Yet, there you were. All for his family's benefit. His benefit.
“Doesn't seem to bother her,” Genevieve noted, nodding her head subtly towards the scene in the pool.
You'd gathered reinforcements. Jensen's three helped you knock Jared under the water again while his own children simply cackled around the attack zone. All it took was a simple bribe from their chief to get them to join in on the battle. Suddenly, the pool erupted into full blown war fare.
Waves crashed over the edge. Floaties went flying through the air. But, everyone knew their limits. Tenderly, you all rode the thin line that would lead to death as you wrestled in the chlorinated pit.
“It should,” He grumbled. It had at one time. The memory of you insisting that you couldn't fill the void echoed in his brain. People didn't change that much. No, if you were okay with it? There was a reason. And there was only one he could piece together enough to make some kinda sense. “She's using us for a crutch. She should be out there. Looking to start her own family.”
He'd painted the image in his mind. Clear as day, it danced there. He could see you in a bar, taking a down night. Later, with your own family after you'd stumbled into some nice good looking chap who'd appreciate you. God knows that you'd earned it.
“Ever think that she doesn't want to?” The idea was dismissed before she even finished it. After all, what woman didn't want someone of their own? “She's a big girl, Jensen...She can decide when she's ready.”
“You don't always get to choose,” His answer was softer that time. Thinking of the turn his life had taken. “You don't always get time.”
His own lack of time still haunted him more than he'd acknowledge. Jensen had wanted forever. Instead, he'd gotten a sliver of it. Best damn sliver of his life, but still. It hadn't been enough. He wanted his wife back. Wanted the life they'd been denied.
“I know,” She would have offered him a hug if his expression hadn't turned back to the mulish expression that often resided in his character's face at the soft words. It was his way of coping. Emotions turned deadly. He wouldn't- couldn't give into it. Not in front of the kids, anyway. Alone in his room was a different story. “Have you tried actually talking to her?”
“She treats me like one of the kids,” He muttered with a soft scowl that made Gen bite back a laugh. “Actually, that's not true. I get lower. She gives the kids more attention when they take up a problem with her.” The sulking was back in full force as he nudged at the meat, once again. It was the one trait of yours that drove him crazy. That easy dismissal of his concerns.
“I can talk to her-”
“No,” His head jerked her way in dismay. He didn't want anyone fighting his battles. Didn't want you to feel that he was forcing you out. “No,” He cleared his throat; this time speaking more calmly. “I'll figure something out...providing Jared doesn't kill her.” His eyes locked onto your form as you tried to tackle the bigger man, and failed. Laughing as you were tossed around like a rag doll.
–
“I still have water in my ears,” You grumbled back at the Ackle's fortress. Trying to dislodge the liquid by shaking your head. It was useless. You'd have to pull out the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol to try and draw it out. “Your friend is wicked.”
“You started it,” Jensen shot back, setting the dish he'd dried back into the cupboard.
They'd been discarded from that morning, before the small get together. Going to sleep with a dirty sink had turned into one of your pet peeves. So, there you were. At midnight. Cleaning dishes next to your employer and friend...of sorts.
“Fair point,” You relented, passing him the pan you'd just rinsed.
After nearly three years? You'd had no problem taunting the man who'd once intimidated you. The puppy-like beast could truly do damage if he wanted. Jared simply never had the desire to inflict permanent harm. Rather stuck to temporary discomfort.
And, you loved every bit of it. It made you feel welcomed. Placed on equal footing, despite the fact that you were the furthest thing from famous.
“I think it's time to replace this thing,” Jensen muttered as he shifted the thinning towel to a dry spot to work on the metal more.
“I can do this on my own, you know.” You pointed out without malice. After all, that's what you were paid to do. A job that you didn't particularly mind, either.
“Figured Jared kicked your ass enough, today.” The wry grin made your eyes roll before you turned away. Ignoring the way his chuckle made your stomach knot.
It wasn't a new feeling. Simply one that you couldn't focus on. He'd had that soul deep kinda connection that you longed for before. So rare that you doubted you'd ever find it. Not only was he still madly in love with Danneel. But, there was also the issue of him handing over a paycheck weekly. Even if you were willing to bend the rules a bit? He wouldn't. So, you turned back to what you could focus on. The dishes.
“I can take it from here,” You returned when you gathered your wits back to where they belonged. It took longer than you had liked. “Besides, you have a flight in the morning. You should get some sleep.”
“Sure thing, mom.” His dry tone was telling enough. You were being blown off. “You sure you can handle them on your own?”
His anxiety over the trip was both endearing and frustrating. On one hand, you understood it. The kids were his everything. He hadn't left their side for longer than a few hours since they'd lost their mother. On the other, it almost hurt that there wasn't enough trust built up to give him relief for a single weekend. To let you step in and care for his family as if they were your own. Hadn't you already proven your worth?
“I'll be fine,” You waved him off with a sudsy hand. Blowing him off as easily as he had your concern. He and Dee had raised some pretty fantastic kids before you'd stepped in. They'd stay that way over two days without their dad. You'd make sure of it. “You need some time to yourself, Jay.”
“When do you ever get that?” He pointed out, jumping on his opening. Your eyes rolled back so far that it was painful. Rehashing the now familiar argument.
“I'm starting to think that you're trying to get rid of me,” His horrified look your way was ignored as you pressed your point home. Making him understand exactly how it was coming across each time he pushed. “If you don't want me around-”
“Did I say that?” The answer was so Dean that you had to bite back the chuckle. He'd only get more worked up, again, if you did. So, you resisted the urge. The kids were out. Neither of you wanted to wake them. “I just think that you need a getaway- one that doesn't include my kids.”
“Are you kidding? What fun is it to go to the beach on your own?” You'd joined the family on their excursions. Everything from the family vacations to trips to conventions. You'd even stayed in Toronto when it came time to film Supernatural. Ensuring that Jensen hadn't needed to worry for a second about his children. Instead, he'd begun to direct it towards you. “I'm not missing much. Trust me. Been there. Done that.”
“Are you still hung up on-”
“I should have never told you that story,” You muttered before he could finish. He'd never forgotten. Or let you forget that you'd confided in him. It was the first thing that had made him give you a second look. “I have bad taste, Jensen. Notoriously bad taste.” He wasn't going to argue there. The guy in question was a douche. “I'm not bringing anything like that home with me, again. There's not enough sage in the world to get rid of that kind of energy. You really should thank me.” A sad smile lined Jensen's face. Danneel had been known to burn a bundle as needed. The tradition had lived on, even just for memories sake.
“Yeah,” He cleared his throat. Taking the hint, finally. “I shouldn't push.” The look on your face said that you agreed. Silence ensued as the nightly chore was wrapped up before you went your separate ways. The issue only held away for another day.
–
“We're good. Go have fun,” You winked over the snapchat. Jensen could see all the girls in the back. Odette had taken the place of Zeppelin for the night. The boys were all with Gen. The children's own request.
You pulled away from your face to record the dance party that was taking place to Little Mix's Salute. Makeup covered all their little faces haphazardly. Your own face carried the telling marks of a young child's heavy handedness. Boas and frilly pink pajamas filled the room. All had embraced their inner female, looking remarkably fierce as they yelled the lyrics.
You ended it with a little lip sync action and your own, half-assed salute. He found himself replaying it for the simple, wide smile on your face as you turned away in the end. You'd seemed happier than he'd expected. His fingers rubbed over the bridge of his nose. Maybe you and Gen had a point.
“Dude, you okay?” Jared's shoulder jostled his best friend lightly, making the shorter one jerk away from his phone. When he glanced back, his reflection stared back at him. A flower crown rested over his forehead. His back straightened as he locked the screen, and tucked the device back in his pocket.
“Fine,” He answered easily. His hand ran through his hair. A simple tell. “Y/N was just checking in.”
“It's hard to be away from them,” The understanding tone made Jensen's tension fall a bit. It was ridiculous to even try to hide it from Jared. “I get it, man.” The large hand clasped against his arm. “If you want to bail, I'll find a way to cover-”
“I can't do that to the fans,” He shook his head. They'd all been so patient. So damn sweet after he'd lost Danneel. They deserved more than him flaking out. Again. “No, she's got it.” A crooked side smile pulled up his face, “Besides, Gen would kill me if I left you alone. You're practically bursting at the seams.”
“Am not,” The little shit eating grin said otherwise. A look that called bull was the only response he got. “Okay, but number four being on the way is kind of a big deal.” Fatherly pride was contagious.
“Yeah, man, it is.” With a sigh, Jensen pulled himself together. Determined to fall back into old patterns as much as he still could.
Years ago, Danneel and him had said they were done. Hell, even on live TV. Yet, so had Jared and Gen. There was no predicting how life would go. What turns would come forward.
Jensen was happy for his friend. Hell, his brother. He'd be there for them and the kid. Just as they had for him and his brood. But, it didn't settle the pit in his gut.
His focus lingered on the what ifs that life had left him with. Where would they all be if that car accident hadn't happened? Would the man who'd hit her be behind bars for someone else? He even found himself wondering if he'd have a fourth baby if Danneel was still alive...
Part Three
ODAAT: @winchester-ofthe-lord
Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff
Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @malfoysqueen14
#supernatural#SPN#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#Supernatural angst#spn angst#supernatural reader insert#spn reader insert#jensen#jensen ackles#jensen reader insert#jensen ackles reader insert#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen fanfiction#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x y/n#jensen ackles x you#jensen x reader#jensen x y/n#jensen x you
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CHAPTER 32: Hotel California - Part 4
Moya, in horror, watches as Marsellus rises from apparent death, muttering something under his breath. She takes a step back, nearly stepping right into one of the open mouths, which snaps at her, flicking a red tongue. She scowls, and stamps her foot down onto the mouth, shattering its teeth. “Fuck this,” she decides, and turns for the door.
But the door is changed as well, savage teeth sprouting out of the edges and snapping aggressively. There is no longer any escape, it seems. Moya looks all around, and shudders at the sickly sound of the elevators DING open. But rather than people emerging through the door, instead a cascade of blood, several hundred gallons, spills into the lobby, advancing on her with frightening speed.
Before it hits, a clawed hand appears in her periphery. SATURN BARZ, struggling through the distortion affecting its body, swipes upward, and the blood explodes into red mist. “The stairwell! Go, quick!!” Moya heeds him, dashing for the emergency stairwell. WITCH MOUNTAIN stoops, pulling Jerome along with it. Moya slams the door behind her and leaves the lobby of horrors behind.
“What the FUCK was that?!” Moya exclaims after WITCH MOUNTAIN destroys the lock on the emergency exit, locking it shut.
“Keep moving,” Kilo answers, gradually regaining functionality in his limbs, but still carried by Moya’s Stand. “The whole building’s an enemy, and the bellboy won’t stop coming for us.”
She scowls, but follows his advice. She readjusts Shizuka in her arms, and WITCH MOUNTAIN lifts Jerome up by his waistband, holding both him and Kilo like heavy luggage. “What do you mean, the building is an enemy?” She asks, beginning to run up the stairs.
“I don’t get it myself, but somehow, the hotel itself has a Stand ability. It gets you high on all this good shit, makes you comfy, then it gets inside your head and sucks the soul right out of you. Or, it makes you a slave. Even if we kill the bellboy, we’ll still be trapped here. And then we’ll become just like him. We need to demolish the entire building.”
“Brainwashes you with comfort, huh? Explains why these two succumbed to it,” she gestures to Shizuka and Jerome.
“... Yeah. That habit of taking things at face value, it’ll be the death of her one day.” he agrees wearily.
With her shoulder, she opens the stairwell door to the second floor and walks in. “Taking a building down is a tall order, even between the two of our Stands. And since it looks like the bellboy can neutralize Stands with his ability, we’re gonna have to get creative. Can you walk yet?”
“Yeah, put me down,” he says, and WITCH MOUNTAIN does, allowing him to stand shakily on his own two feet. They stand facing each other, each breathless.
“It makes sense that you’d be immune, too,” Moya declares.
“What?”
“You’re so mistrustful. I bet you’ve never had a good thing to say about anything in your life.”
“... Is that your idea of a compliment, officer?”
“No it’s not, punkass.”
They smirk at each other, then turn at the sound of creaking floorboards. Like an image out of a dream, Paul Mann emerges from around the corridor. “Y-you--!!” he sputters upon seeing Kilo.
“... That’s Paul Mann. I know him, he’s some big shot real estate mogul,” Moya says.
“He’s the Congregation’s secret political backer. Dust hid him here after Phantasma died,” Kilo explains.
“... He’s fucking what?”
Mann begins to jog in the opposite direction. Moya drops Shizuka and Jerome to the floor. After a moment of shellshock, she sprints after him and dive-tackles him to the floor. “Is that true?!” she screeches, holding him in an arm bar “Are you really working with Brother Dust?!!”
“Who are you people?!!”
“Is it fucking true?!!”
“Gaagh, ok, yes! He approached me with an offer, he’d help me get out of a little legal trouble, even assist in my political campaign! In return, I’d look the other way on his more sketchy affairs! It was necessary, I-- I have a vision for this country! Sometimes men have to make hard choices for the good of th- AAOWW!” He wails as his shoulders cracks, nearly falling out of place.
“Do we have time for this? Right now?” Kilo says, observing. Moya reluctantly holds off from breaking Mann’s arm, and releases him.
“You stay right where you are, got it?!” she shouts. Mann responds by raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m working on it… I need to get outside. I can’t do anything while I’m inside the building. The hotel’s got control over everything inside it.”
“Then we gotta get our asses up to the roof.”
“Not us,” Kilo says, shaking his head, “There’s at least a dozen people in this building. You need to get them outta here. I have an idea, but it won’t leave any survivors. I won’t have innocent people dying because of me… What?”
“Ah, nothing,” she says, shaking herself out of staring at him. She turns her face away, trying to hide her surprise as she retrieves Shizuka and Jerome from off the floor., “Are you sure we should seperate? What are you going to do while I’m evacuating?”
“I’m gonna be killing a god,” he says, then turns without another word, leaving Moya aghast. She hesitates momentarily, then moves.
His insistence on preserving innocent life took her by surprise. Never had she imagined that the furious man she met on the beach could say something so righteous. “I’ll trust you, Kilo Staples,” she thinks, preparing her search for afflicted guests, “because you chose to trust me.”
***
Halfway up the stairs to the seventh floor, Kilo watches the 7 at the top of the stairs split in two. The wall cracks and bulges, opening to reveal a mouth full of dirty teeth and drool. Marsellus emerges out of this opening, covered in saliva. The smell of the hotel’s insides hangs off of him, reaching Kilo even meters away. The bellboy’s face twitches between a smile and a scowl, his movements are jerky and strange. “D-d-d-did you think you had lost me, s-s-sir?” he asks, CALIFORNICATION emerging next to him, crackling electricity.
“Nah, I didn’t,” Kilo responds. CALIFORNICATION moves, dashing down the stairs. SATURN BARZ waves its hands, but this proves to be a feint, as it delivers a sharp kick to the stairs in front of it. Instantly, the surface of the stairs turns to liquid, reaching up to where Marsellus stands.
The bellboy yelps as he loses all traction with the ground. CALIFORNICATION disappears, and its master slides down the stairs like an impromptu water-park. SATURN BARZ strikes the stairs again, and they solidify back into solid concrete. It crackles and traps Marsellus on his back, halfway down.
“Damn you!! E-even if you immobilize me, my Stand is faster than yours! It has a wider range than yours! You cannot defeat me!”
Kilo answers him with a kick to the face, before he climbs onto the guard rail and leaps straight up off of it, clambering up to reach the fire escape door to the roof.
Marsellus struggles and curses out, as CALIFORNICATION reactivates within him, generating electricity from the inside out. Water drips from the ends of his concrete prison, and he struggles, inching forward until the stone finally cracks enough that he can break free.
Kilo is about to touch the metal door handle. In the instant before he can, CALIFORNICATION slams its fist into the wall, directing arcs of static electricity to travel through the metal and electronics, up the stairs and infusing into the doorknob. Once his fingers close around it, the power moves up his arm and shoots him backwards into the guard rail.
“AAH!” he shouts, as much in frustration as pain. “SATURN BARZ!!” He summons his Stand, and it evaporates the door with an “URAAH!!” Clutching his quickly numbing arm, he runs through the doorway, stepping out onto the roof. He stumbles and falls, and sits up on his knees. The night sky is above him. He breathes the outside air.
“Enough,” comes the voice from the stairwell, “t-t-there is no longer anywhere to run! Your stay at the Hotel California will never end!” Marsellus steps into the door frame and leans against it. He is damaged, his skin blistered and cut, his left eye bloodshot. Yet he keeps going, driven by mad devotion for the sinister building that possesses him.
Kilo turns, digging his fingernails into his right arm, trying to awaken feeling in it. “You know what?” he declares, “I been thinking about what you said earlier.” SATURN BARZ emerges, sans a right arm. Nevertheless, it stands tall, beginning to stamp its foot rhythmically. It raises its one arm into the night air, reddish-brown vapor building in its palm. Marsellus summons CALIFORNICATION, but cautiously remains where he is.
“You said giving into the hotel frees you from struggle. What a load of shit. I heard you squealing for Dust to come save you earlier. You know what?” Kilo continues, “I think all this is, is that you was too much of a pussy to fight for the life you wanted.” SATURN BARZ swipes downward, and the vapor expands, rising into the air. With each swipe of its claw, the vapor builds into a great cloud, which rises into the air.
“A smokescreen?” Marsellus says, shaking out of his daze, “Did you not hear me? There is nowhere to r-r-run!! It doesn’t matter what you do to me or this Hotel, you’re DOOMED!!!”
“I’m not aiming to bring you down, ya little bitch. You ain’t worth it…” He says with a smirk, as the cloud of vapor ascends into the air. “You ain’t nothing but a puppet… the idea is… to cut off the hand holding the strings…!”
Marsellus bares his teeth and seethes, ready to unleash a torrent of electricity at Kilo. But, just then, he feels small drops of water hit the back of his outstretched hand. “ What the?…” he murmurs. He looks up, and the droplets fall from the cloud created by SATURN BARZ, hanging overhead.
“Rain…? Is this it?” he asks snidely, as further raindrops begin to fall on the roof around them, “Make it rain a tad, and then… what? Make the pipes rust?”
“You’re a native, right, aren’t you?” Kilo retorts, “Then you outta know, one of the worst parts of living here is all the fucking smog. Some days you can barely breathe…! And every so often, all that exhaust builds up, gets high enough, and it comes back down…” He winces as a raindrop lands on his cheek, and quickly wipes it off. He watches with satisfaction as Marsellus recoils, then grimaces in pain.
In horror, Marsellus stares at a hole that has formed in his hand, the flesh burned and blistered. It has been burned straight through, an injury replicated in his Stand’s hand. In the very spot where the raindrop landed.
“When all those fumes built up over weeks of traffic get high enough, sometimes they come back down! As acid rain!” SATURN BARZ manifests and shields its user from the raindrops, as all around him, they burn holes straight through the roof of the Hotel California
A bass moaning sound can be heard. The ground beneath them contorts, pelted on all sides by burning rain. The acidic cloud grows ever larger, and the clean concrete and brick architecture morphs into slick, organic flesh.
“N-no! NOO!!” Marsellus cries, apparently ignorant to his own flesh being gradually destroyed by the rain, his uniform falling in pieces off of him. CALIFORNICATION, too, degrades, its wrought metal body melting into useless scrap.
***
Downstairs, Shizuka bolts upright, leaping out of Moya’s arms and rolling, suddenly wide awake. “What happened?!” she cries, looking all around.
Jerome wakes at the same moment. “Oh, finally!” Moya exclaims, patting him on the back as he grasps his bearings.
“W-What’s going on? Wh… You! The cop!”
“Moya?! What are you doing here?” Shizuka exclaims, noticing her for the first time.
“No time to explain! Let’s get moving!” she shouts, shoving a man in front of her hard on the shoulder.
“I-I’m going, I’m going!” the man protests, revealing himself to be the lawyer from the room across from Kilo’s. He pulls his son along by the hand, desperately trying to keep him calm. A full procession of such people, all guests and prisoners of Hotel California, trail after Moya.
Paul Mann remains reluctantly by her side, his hands held behind his back by WITCH MOUNTAIN, a force that he cannot see. Many of them appear to shake their heads at the same moment, as if waking from a dream.
“Where’s Kilo?” Shizuka asks, following Moya, “What happened with the old man in the hallway?”
“I don’t know anything about that, but Staples is taking care of things. Looks like whatever he did worked…” she replies, then pauses, spreading her hands wide and bringing everyone to a halt.
A bulge forms in the ceiling in front of them, as if a load of water has been spilled and is deforming the plaster. After a moment, the bulge bursts and liquid spills out of it onto the carpet. There is a chemical scent of burning where the fluid interacts with the fabric.
“What in the world?” exclaims Paul Mann, and similar murmurs of confusion go up among the gathering. From all but Shizuka, who stares at the acid with terrible understanding.
“We- We need to get out of here… Now!” she implores Moya, who herself begins to understand upon seeing Shizuka’s face.
“Move! Move, move, move!” she yells, and the guests follow her commands as similar bulges form all over the ceiling, spilling deadly acid all over the floor, eating away at the hotel.
#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo no kimyou na bouken#achtung attitude#shizuka joestar#kilo staples#moya pezzente#c-king#witch mountain#hotel california#ch32
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Number Thirty-Five: Hey, look, I found the Beef!
It Is Begun.
Indeed. Far too true, all around. I had actually forgotten the fact that John was involved in the army raising. >.<
Hmm. That is an interesting question: What ARE the 8 Balls representative of? The idea that his immortality knows that his time is almost up? The universe destroying power of a certain blue-blooded Sn(8)wman? The proximity to a black hole, considering how he conquered his session?
Why do you take such pleasure in taunting me, Hussie? T^T
I wonder if that’s fully true, or if it’s just traveled to some other point in the timeline.
Indeed, that does sound pretty cool.
Hmm. The way that was described made it seem almost like there’s a possibility that she had escaped somehow in a puff of light-- but I very much doubt that. This... is going to be rough. They have got to be extremely careful and make everything count, here.
Part of the problem here is pitting a time player against the Lord of Time. While he has an advantage insofar as he has the legendary cutter of Cal, he’s also at a disadvantage insofar as time will constantly be working against him.
The Green Sun was destroyed for the sake of depowering Lord English (and possibly trapping him, later). It is to be expected that the Green Sun Powers she possesses would not work. Jade is put at a tremendous disadvantage insofar as she has not really had much experience with her God Tier powers outside of the connection they have with said sum; however, it was, to some extent, a necessary sacrifice. The question is... why hadn’t she realized this would happen during her captivity in the Juju? Well... I guess there was not really an opportunity to. It’s not like they had received knowledge that it would be gone, unfortunately. ***casts a suspicious gaze at endgame/victory condition!Rose*** >^>
***feels a lump suddenly forming in my throat*** Ahem... . Well, how, erm, unlucky and also ironic. It is a hole torn in space. Eheheh... . On a not-so-unrelated note: I wonder if this is essentially their comeuppance for coming from a timeline with no promise. It doesn’t seem like the normal DOOM mechanics should be in effect, considering how John’s retcon powers worked, but at the same time, I guess there’s a massive symbol of void hanging in the background, casting shadows of bad luck over everything. It’s interesting that it didn’t state Jade was dead after that... though if it entered from the trajectory that I am thinking it did, and especially given her body went limp, she should at least be paralyzed, which is... unfortunate. ewe
Wow, John’s really gotten strong over the years. I am surprised, honestly, that his powers have developed to that extent.
Yay, Newtonian physics! (Also, I love the ominous way English’s maw was described, there.)
O_O OH MY FRICKING GOSH!!!
Oh, and also: Being able to see is pretty important. It's a shame that their beacon of Light isn't there to help make things clearer.You know. The Seer being gone. Sight being lost.There are a whole bunch of these sorts of symbols coming up, lately. Oh, and also, Vriska is gone. It would be real nice if someone could be able to English’s luck.
Yeah... deadness does that to you, sometimes. Especially when inundated with Unimportance from the presence of a celestial ball of Void~
This is a strange way to describe an attack, but I sortof love it. Especially since it makes it sound like LE is skating away from the group, probably flailing his arms wildly not to fall over. Either that, or he shot it off like a rocket fist.
Page of Breath, NOOOO!!!~ Your squiredom was nearly complete! D:
Well... at least he’s avoiding being killed, and is doing SOME damage, now. That’s something.
Why do I get the impression it was the hammer crunching, despite the backstepping on the giant monster’s part?
... I really wish that I knew what his eating hammers was supposed to represent. The dog shaking a rabbit metaphor is quite amusing, though, especially as one imagines John’s legs just flailing about through the air as it’s happening. Poor thing, getting its handle bitten off. I am reminded of Tyr and Fenrir. However, John didn’t lose his hand, and sadly doesn’t really have magical, unbreakable chains to bind this monstrous beast with.
Ow. This... is painful. So seemingly unceremonious. A bloody shame his indestructibility protected him. ewe
OH FRACK, HER MAKING DAVE BACK OFF WAS NOT A GOOD THING!!!
YES, YES, YES, COME ON RANDOM DICE ROLL!!! I have been waiting for this moment!!!
***FREAKS THE HECK OUT LIKE THE KING OF WEASELS***
Everyone has been waiting for this epic moment. But man, if it isn’t awkwardly timed. That is really all there is to say on the matter.
That is an interesting fact, regarding English’s size+bulk+physical capacities. That said: YEAH, GIVE THEM HEART, WOOO!!!~
This is incredibly sad (John tuning it out), and also a very good expression of how a Rogue of Heart’s power must work. (Buffs and Debuffs, huzzah!) Hmm~ That is a really beautiful description of everything falling apart, by the way.
I wish there was some awesome music to associate with this moment. I think I’ll just play Red Sucker through Eternity Served Cold. That ought to fit, probably.
Good thing he’d just dropped all those hammers there, eh? While the last allusion doesn’t make sense, see the first four words in this snip!
I bet Dave looks just like Caliborn did just after he severed his own leg. MAYBE IF YOU FEED HIM ENOUGH, HE’LL EXPLODE!!! O: ***laughs at my own ridiculousness***
Hey, mid-battle foreshadowing/buildup! Niiice. And now, John, since he swallowed you whole instead of chewing: UNLEASH A WHIRLWIND OF HAMMERS AND BREATH IN HIS BLOODY STOMACH!!! >:’D
... Wow. That could have gone better. Or worse! John, you really should have remembered you could have turned into wind and used that to escape. At the same time, though, English moves way faster than Bec Noir does, probably, so I guess I can’t blame you. Good job on surviving that, at least (for now).
Aww. What a nice present. I’m sure that will make a cool fricking hammer, if you save it, John. Please don’t lose that any time soon, okay? More importantly, though... are we going to miss the last parts of the battle because John is too loopy? XD
***gulp*** Seems not. ***unleashes a torrent of mad laughter in time with The Lordling, which played just as Dave’s head was bitten off*** ***reaches up toward the sky with a grim smile plastered upon my face, and then cracks my neck*** WELL, THEN. IT WOULD SEEM THAT THINGS HAVE GOTTEN TRULY INTERESTING.
MAGNIFICENT. FINALLY, THE IMMATURE CHERUB GROWS ITS WINGS.
***sagenods*** A fitting end. Not an opponent that any one person could have hoped to defeat-- but with great sacrifice and determination, the group together managed to achieve the impossible. Weakened by poison, distracted by maddening, Rage-fueled giddiness in triumph, the final tolling of the bell comes. As they are flown off into the sun like a piece of fricking garbage. Honk. HONK.
Post Script, as Eternity Served Cold winds down: The final reunion with a Cherub in the wake of a black hole... beautiful touch to sew in, there. Magnificent. BUT WHAT THE HECK ARE THE OTHER EPILOGUE PARTS GOING TO BE ABOUT?!?!?! OH MY FRICKING GOSH!!!!!!!!
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White Knight, Red Queen - Chapter 2: The Mirror
Claudia repairs a broken magic mirror, only for her and Soren to get sucked in and sent straight into the clutches of the Fire Nation! And on the day Soren was to be sworn into the Crownguard no less.
FF.net
AO3
Now it really begins.
2 years ago…
Soren marched proudly and triumphantly through the halls of Castle Katolis, donned in a shining new set of armor and the signature black and white tabard of the Crownguard, the most elite class of knights in Katolis. Today was his day, the day he would officially become the youngest Crownguard in the history of Katolis, and Soren could not be happier as he thumbed the hilt of his new sword. Soren grinned and winked at the other servants and soldiers as he made his way to the tower where his father’s study was located. Soren threw the doors open and made his entrance.
“Hey, future almost newly appointed Crownguard here!” Soren shouted into the room as he entered. He looked around to find Claudia nose deep in a spell book and carrying her bag of dark magic items. “Hey Clods, where’s dad? My knighthood ceremony is in an hour…and what are you up to?” Soren watched as Claudia walked over towards a table covered in ingredients, the kind she and their father Viren used for dark magic. There was a small cauldron in the center, into which Claudia poured in a vial of glowing orange liquid. The sorceress finally looked up to her brother.
“Oh, hey Soren!” Claudia greeted her brother cheerfully. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to crack this spell for dad. You see that mirror?” Claudia pointed towards the back wall, and Soren’s gaze followed to find a large, rectangular mirror, framed with gold flames and beset with rubies. The glass, however, was cracked into several shards, though all the pieces remained within the frame. Soren frowned and crossed his arms.
“Yeah, how could I forget,” Soren pouted. “That’s the mirror dad got mad at me for breaking all those years ago.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been fooling around in his secret magic room,” Claudia replied and gave Soren’s shoulder a playful shove. “But it’s been over seven years since then, so your bad luck should be all out, right?” Soren simply huffed and turned his head away. “Aw come on Sore-bear, dad’s not still mad about that. Here, have an apple. Don’t worry, it’s not poisonous.”
Claudia handed Soren an apple from the table. She knew he liked to eat when he was upset. Years ago, Viren had found Soren in his secret chamber in the library, and the gold framed mirror smashed. Viren had been furious at the time, and ever since then the cracked mirror had been a reminder to Soren, hence why Viren still kept it in his study and not moved it along with all his other magic items to a more secure location.
Soren eyed the apple before biting into it. “Well, whatever. I don’t see how it’s so hard to fix a mirror anyway.” He said between mouthfuls. “I don’t even remember how I broke this stupid thing! It wasn’t my fault…” Claudia threw a spoonful of crushed butterfly wings into the cauldron, and a poof of smoke evaporated into the room.
“This is no ordinary mirror, the glass is magic,” Claudia explained. “The pieces are all attracted to each other, but they need a spell to properly repair. I’m betting we could use it to spy on people, or maybe even talk to them!”
“Look, just don’t take too long, okay?” Soren bit off another chunk of apple. “I don’t want you or dad to miss the ceremony. This is my special day, and I don’t want to be one upped by a mirror.” Claudia nodded absent mindedly as she gave the cauldron the juices from a sparrow’s gizzard, making Soren queasy. Another puff of smoke shot from the cauldron, and Claudia smiled gleefully as her concoction began to bubble and glow.
“Alright, let’s see if it works…” Claudia whispered excitedly, making Soren roll his eyes. He watched as Claudia dipped a ladle into the cauldron and carry it over to the mirror. With a flourish, Claudia took the ladle and splashed the glass with the dark magic brew. The liquid sizzled against the cracked glass, glowed, then evaporated….and did nothing. Claudia waited a moment and Soren watched, bemused. The sorceress let out a groan of frustration and set the cauldron back onto the table. “I was sure that would work.”
“Well, too bad, let’s go Claudia.” Soren said in a hurry. He took one last bite of his apple and swallowed. “We’ve got more important places to be.” The young knight took the apple core and spitefully threw it at the mirror. Every time he saw it, he heard his father’s shouts of anger, and the sooner he could get away from it the better.
The core flew through the air, and both siblings expected it to bounce off the mirror and fall to the floor harmlessly. But no apple core hit the floor. No core hit the mirror either. In fact, there was no core anymore. Soren and Claudia watched with amazement as the apple core disappeared into the mirror, the cracked glass rippling like still water being disturbed. Claudia let out a long, slow gasp of amazement.
“Soren, you did it!” Claudia shouted and took Soren by the arm to drag him to the mirror. Soren himself was dumbfounded as they both watched a mirror that was simultaneously cracked, yet rippling. “This isn’t used to spy or talk, this mirror is a por-!”
Claudia was cut short as, without warning, the mirror’s cracked surface fell inward, and within the frame was now a starry sky…and empty space. There was a moment of calm before both siblings felt themselves being sucked into a vacuum. They cried out in shock as they were pulled in by the rush of wind. Soren and Claudia both instinctively reached out for one another, grabbing each other’s arms as they went tumbling through a star filled voice.
“Claudia, don’t let go!” Soren shouted over the gusts of wind pushing them. His sister clung tight to him with one arm, while he other hand went to her satchel to pull out a dried crab claw. Claudia crushed it in her hand, and a lavender liquid formed around the two of them into a bubble. The two of them steadied as they rode the wind. Soren stood up and looked into the direction they were heading. There was a star ahead, growing ever brighter. The closer it came, the more it looked like a doorway.
“Soren, I think we’re about to exit!” Claudia stated. Soren nodded as it was clear where they were going. Their bubble reached the light, and the siblings shielded their eyes as they passed through. The bubble popped, and Soren and Claudia fell back to earth.
Viren’s children landed face first with a thud onto a red, carpeted floor. Soren shook his head as he got to his knees, still blinded and disoriented from the light. As his vision returned, he looked around to see where he was. The walls were red, covered in ornate patterns of gold depicting long, serpentine dragons. Lining these walls were dozens of different ornate items and artifacts, not unlike a museum, but very lustrous. Exotic, spiky sets of armor that were definitely not from Katolis, treasure chests, wall scrolls, tables of books and maps all filled the great hall which Soren and Claudia found themselves in.
What caught Soren’s attention the most, however, was the striking figure standing before him. Clad in red and black armor with gold trim, a teenage girl about the same age as Claudia, with dark brown hair tied up into a top knot with a gold hair pin shaped like a flame. Her sharp features were framed by two long bangs. Soren’s blue eyes met the girl’s golden ones, and for a moment they gazed back at each other with shock and wonder. Then the girl shouted.
“GUARDS!”
Soren and Claudia had a second to react before the girl extended her palm and an intense blue jet of flame shot from it. Soren grabbed Claudia and pulled her out of the way just in time as the flames singed the carpet where they had landed. It was then that they saw the guards coming through the doors, wielding spears and wearing the same type of armor as the girl. They blocked the exit, but Soren charged forward. Drawing his longsword, Soren cut through the wooden spear shafts, their points falling to the floor harmlessly. The guards blinked in confusion before Soren bulldozed his way past them, knocking the men aside with his own armored body and clearing the way for Claudia.
“I’ve got your back Soren!” Claudia shouted as she took out a green bundle of vines from her satchel. Her eyes glowed as she whispered the incantation, “tpure seniv,” purple magic flowing into the bundle before she tossed it at the doorway. The bundle burst into a web of vines that covered the doorway, buying the siblings some time as they began running down the halls of this strange, new palace. The vines would not last long though, as they were engulfed in blue flames and burned to ashes. The girl who had called the guards walked past the smoldering plant life and looked down the halls where Claudia and Soren had run, squinting her eyes with intrigue.
“Claudia, where on Earth are we?!” Soren shouted as they ran. A young servant girl squeaked in fright as the two of them ran past her, almost dropping the bowl of cherries she was carrying.
“I don’t know Soren, I don’t think we’re in Katolis anymore,” Claudia answered while she tried to keep up. “I’d say we’re in Xadia, but nothing here looks like an elf!”
“Well they’re still trying to kill us anyway!” Soren retorted as they rounded a corner. By now the commotion had alerted the entire palace, and more guards were beginning to swarm and chase after them. Some of them began to shoot fire from their hands like the girl did, but these were orange flames instead.
“These people, they’re doing fire magic like it’s nothing…” Claudia observed as she pulled out a glass globe filled with water and a tiny, floating clam shell. She recited yet another incantation, “doolf tnerrot,” and threw it onto the floor. The small globe broke and unleashed a torrent of water that rushed down the hall and swept away the fire mages. That gave the siblings some breathing room, and both ducked through an open door to catch their breath.
“Claudia, wherever we are, this is really, really bad.” Soren began. “Not only are we surrounded by hostiles that can do magic, but dad is going to kill us for messing with the mirror. And worst of all, I’m going to miss my knighting ceremony!”
“Calm down Sore-bear,” Claudia said reassuringly. “We can still get back, we just need to get to the portal we came out from. Makes sense, right?” Claudia smiled at Soren, hoping her logic would cheer him up. Her brother took a deep breath and sighed.
“Okay, but that means having to get past that scary lady with the blue fire. Kind of hot though…” Soren smirked as he rubbed his chin, before Claudia gave him a light smack on the head.
“Focus Soren. We have to find a way back to that museum-y looking room. How’s your sense of direction?” Claudia asked. Soren shook his head.
“Sorry, kind of hard to get your bearings when you’re fleeing like a scared bunny.” He answered.
“Why don’t I show you,” Came a voice. Soren and Claudia looked to the doorway to see a grim looking young man with dark hair and a horribly burned face standing there, wielding two curved swords. “We can start with the prison...” The young man rushed at the two and brandished his swords. Soren blocked Claudia as he raised his own sword and the blades clashed.
“Claudia, move! I’ve got this!” Soren shouted as he and the boy with the burned face locked blades. Claudia moved out of the way as the two sword masters began to duel. Soren’s longsword had the range advantage, but the burned one could attack and defend at the same time. Claudia fumbled through her satchel trying to find the right spell to use. Soren swiped at the dual wielder, who blocked and swung back with his other curved sword. Soren thought he was out of range, until a wave of fire shot out from the sword tip.
Soren was blasted back by the fire and stumbled. Fortunately, his armor was resistant enough to negate the worst of it, as Soren regained his posture and stance. The burned swordsman began to swing his swords once more, throwing wider arcs of fire at Soren. Soren blocked, parried, and dodged the fire as best he could, but took another hit. Meanwhile, Claudia found the item she was looking for, a short chain bracelet in the style of twin snakes.
“Got it! Soren, snake chains!” Claudia signaled to her brother. Soren grit his teeth as he stood his ground.
“Okay ugly, block this one.” Soren growled before charging at his opponent. The burned boy took a defensive stance, but was surprised when Soren gripped his longsword by the blade instead of the hilt. Soren swung the sword at the burned one hilt first. He tried to block it, but extra weight of the blow broke through, and the cross guard of Soren’s sword struck the burned one in the shoulder. He dropped his guard and stumbled back, gripping his shoulder in pain.
“Meht dnib leets nirehtyls!” Claudia shouted. The chains in her hand grew long, and transformed into large snakes that quickly slithered towards the enemy. The burned one gasped as they wrapped themselves around his body, trapping him, before changing back into heavy chains. The burned one fell to his knees and grunted as he struggled to break free.
“Come on.” Soren took his sister’s hand and they ran out of the room. More guards were closing in on them once more, and neither sibling had time to gain their bearings, turning any corner that seemed safe and dispatching any guards that got in their way. They ran for minutes, not stopping to rest or catch their breath, until finally they came to a long hallway leading to a large doorway with light shining through the cracks. Soren and Claudia both instinctively knew it was an exit, and made a beeline for it. Two guards moved in to halt them, but Soren easily knocked them out with quick blows of his pommel.
Claudia readied another spell as Soren began to push open the heavy double doors, and they ran outside into the palace courtyard. The light of the sun shined down upon them, and for a moment they felt relieved to be out, until they saw the rest of the guards and fire mages swarm in on all sides. The siblings stood back to back, guarding each other as the hostiles closed in.
“Claudia, if you’ve got something big and flashy you wanna throw out, now’s the time…” Soren said to his sister as he brandished his sword. Several of the fire mages held fire in their hands, ready to unleash.
“Then it’s time to bring out the big magic…” Claudia replied as she reached into her satchel and pulled out one of her most powerful relics, the Sky Primal Stone. A small thunderstorm raged inside the tiny sphere, and Claudia drew the power of lightning into her hand before raising it skyward. “Fulminis!”
The lightning shot up into the sky, and all the soldiers surrounding them stepped back in fear and awe. Soren grinned triumphantly. Claudia always came through, and now was their chance to escape. Soren was about to make a path for them, when suddenly, another bolt of lightning struck the sky, only it was not from Claudia. Everyone turned to the palace’s entrance to see the girl from before, her two fingertips smoking as she stood in a low stance.
“Whoa…” Soren could only say as he gazed at her. After a brief pause, the soldiers quickly moved in, pointing their spears and readying their flames. What opportunity the siblings had to flee was gone. Soren kept his sword held high, but he knew it would do them little good. Claudia held more lightning ready in her hand, but they were too close now for her to manage another casting. A guard had a spear now pointed close to her throat. Soren growled as he switched places with Claudia and knocked the spear tip away. “Don’t you touch her!”
“Stand down!” The blue fire girl shouted to the soldiers as she began to approach. Running up behind her was the burned swordsman from before, having freed himself from his chains. “Good of you to join us brother. Guards! Disarm these two so they can’t cause any more trouble!” The soldiers did as they were ordered, pulling Claudia’s satchel away from her and taking the primal stone, leaving her powerless. Two more guards took Soren’s sword and forced the siblings down on their knees. The rest of the soldiers cleared a path as the other pair approached.
“Don’t underestimate them,” The burned one began to say, his dual swords sharing one sheath at his back. “The boy is strong, and the girl has powers like a spirit.”
“Yes, I see they gave you trouble,” The girl replied dismissively. She stood before Soren now, looking down at him as he looked back up defiantly. She tilted her head as she studied his features, then reached down to tug at his dirty blond locks, making him grunt in pain.
“Ow, hey! Watch the hair!” Soren snapped at her. The girl let go and squinted at him.
“Golden hair and blue eyes…” The girl said. She looked over to Claudia to study her features next. “Green eyes too, with strange clothing and equipment…” Her gaze shifted back to Soren, and they met eye to eye. Soren did his best to match her gaze, but it felt like her eyes were piercing right through to his soul. “Who are you? What nation are you from?” She demanded.
“I’m Soren, Crownguard of the Kingdom of Katolis!” Soren shouted out for all to hear, loud and proud. “And this is my sister, Claudia, a master of magic. Who are you?!” He hoped that would get them some respect. The burned one crossed his arms. The girl’s face was blank for a moment as she gazed at the blond boy and processed the information.
“…Soren…?” The girl asked, then smirked at him and leaned forward. Her face came dangerously close as she met Soren eye to eye, and for a moment the Crownguard felt a sense of unease at his personal space being invaded.
“Don’t you know?” The girl asked, keeping eye contact with Soren. “I’m Princess Azula of the Fire Nation. This one here is my brother, Prince Zuko,” She motioned to the burned one, who simply glared in silence. The girl, Azula, stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, asserting her authority. “And the two of you just managed to storm out of the royal palace of the Fire Nation, making it past hundreds of guards and firebenders.”
“Firebenders? Is that what you are?” Claudia asked, her curiosity piqued. There were spells that controlled fire, but nothing on the level that these firebenders seemed to display. Azula raised an eyebrow at the question.
“Yes, that’s right. You two really aren’t from around here, are you?” Azula asked, holding her chin as she studied the siblings. “You come stumbling out of a mirror without warning, no idea where you are, and you managed to get this far…I’m impressed. Just a little.” A small smile formed on her lips as she stroked her chin. “Still, I’m afraid we’re going to have to detain you, for now. Guards, take them to the treasure room and keep them there.” Azula turned and began walking away, with Zuko following suit. “I need to speak to father first.”
The guards lifted Soren and Claudia up and placed shackles around their wrists. With their weapons confiscated, they had no choice but to obey as they were led back into the palace. All the servants and staff watched with curiosity as the two outsiders were led back down the long halls to the treasure room, the place where they had first appeared. Meanwhile, Azula and Zuko took a different direction, to the throne room where Fire Lord Ozai was seated. He had a look of annoyance as his two children approached and kneeled, heads bowed.
“What is this disturbance?” Ozai asked hotly.
“There were two intruders Father, a boy and a girl. They appeared without warning within the palace.” Zuko answered, keeping his head bowed.
“Intruders? But the day of Black Sun is weeks away.” Ozai retorted. “Was your intel incorrect?”
“No, never, Father, these two are different,” Azula began to say, and raised her head to meet her father’s gaze. “They’re unlike anything we’ve ever seen before, from an unknown kingdom they call Katolis.”
“They’re not benders, but they possess great skill and strange powers. One of them can even control lightning.” Zuko explained. Ozai’s eyes widened, and he furrowed his brow.
“I want these intruders executed,” He said as he stood, the flames surrounding his throne intensifying. “I’ll not have would be assassins thinking they can come for me and live to tell about it.”
“Actually father, I don’t think they are assassins,” Azula said. “They came through a mirror, that large one which the late Admiral Zhao brought to us from the hidden library he found in the Earth Kingdom. It must hold some kind of spirit magic. I saw the whole thing happen, and judging by their reactions, these intruders came by accident.” Ozai turned his nose up as he sat back down.
“They came through a mirror? That sounds like some preposterous spirit tale, strange people traveling from another world through a looking glass.” The situation had rattled Ozai. He did not let his children see it, but he had been on edge ever since he was told about the Day of Black Sun and the coming invasion. “So? What is your point, my dear?” The Fire Lord asked, and Azula smiled at him.
“Father, I think we have an opportunity to gain new allies, and new power,” Azula stood to her feet, while Zuko eyed her suspiciously from the floor. “Even though there were only two of them, our strange visitors fought their way past our imperial firebenders from the treasure room to the courtyard. They even managed to subdue Prince Zuko,” Azula shot a smug smirk down at her brother, who scoffed and rolled his eyes. “The day of Black Sun will be here soon, taking away our bending and leaving us vulnerable. While we have a foolproof plan for the invasion to come, a little more insurance would not hurt.” Ozai stroked his long beard as he considered Azula’s words.
“So, you believe that convincing these…aliens to join us is worthwhile?” Ozai asked. Azula nodded, her smile growing larger as she could already feel her father’s approval.
“Yes Father, and not only that, but we could learn how they wield this magic,” Azula answered. “The boy is strong and resilient, but the girl, his sister, holds the real power, to control elements without bending, to use real magic like the spirits can.” The Fire Lord smirked back at his daughter, amused by her choice of words as his son stayed silent. Ozai nodded to them.
“Very well then, if you can turn this…incident to our advantage, then do so,” Ozai commanded. “Keep our visitors here as our new guests, make them feel right at home for as long as you can. We will show them the glory of the Fire Nation, and they will come to us in our time of need to tell us their secrets. You two are dismissed.”
Azula and Zuko bowed to their father before turning to leave. Zuko frowned at his sister.
“You think it’s going to be easy to convince them to join us?” The prince asked. “I have a feeling they might not be too thrilled about it if they knew why we’re being invaded.”
“Don’t worry so much Zuzu.” Azula replied, her smirk still present. “What our guests won’t know won’t hurt them, right? Besides, I’m sure these poor lost souls would appreciate the infinite hospitality that the Fire Nation has to offer. Just leave it all to me…”
Meanwhile, Soren and Claudia were taken back to the treasure room where they had arrived. The two of them were seated down at one of the large tables, side by side. Claudia’s eyes scanned the room until she spotted what she was looking for, a large mirror, though this one was different from the one in Katolis. It was a large circle, with a grey stone frame lined with runes, and a winged dragon perched on top. The glass was not cracked, but perfectly smooth and reflected the rest of the room.
“Soren, there it is…” Claudia whispered to her brother. Soren followed her gaze to the mirror and smiled excitedly.
“Clods, all we have to do is make a break for it,” Soren whispered back. Claudia gave him a worried look, but he did not notice. “I can overpower these guys easy, then we just bolt for the mirror and we’re out of here.” Soren took a deep breath and readied himself, tensing his legs to spring into action. “On my mark….one….two…th-“
“I’m so sorry about that,” Came a female voice from outside. The guards made way as Princess Azula and Prince Zuko entered the treasure room and walked up to the siblings. “Guards, please take these shackles off, these two are our guests and we should treat them better than prisoners.” The guards did as they were ordered and unlocked the cuffs from Soren and Claudia’s wrists. Soren was taken back, his plan interrupted before it could begin. He and Claudia watched as Azula walked up to the large mirror, studying it inquisitively, before pushing her hand towards it. The glass stayed firm, as glass normally does. Claudia and Soren were surprised by this, and Azula turned to them. “You both came through this, but it seems that you can’t go back.”
“What!?” Soren exclaimed as he walked towards the princess. Two guards moved in his way, and Soren glared at them. “You mean we’re stuck here?” Soren stomped his foot and huffed. “I had places to be…” Azula put on an expression of pity. She had already known the mirror would not work, having tested it before pursuing Claudia and Soren earlier. Azula just needed to make sure they knew they were stuck, before one of them tried to do something rash. Azula motioned for the guards to move, and she put a hand on Soren’s shoulder.
“I know this must be difficult for you, being stranded in a strange new world,” Azula said, her words coated with honey. Soren looked back at Azula, he and Claudia oblivious to her intentions, and began to feel more at ease. “But not to worry. The Royal Family are generous hosts, and we will gladly let you stay at the palace until you find your way back home.”
“Really? Oh, thank you!” Claudia said as she got up from her seat and went to give Azula a hug. Azula did her best not to shove the sorceress to the ground and set her long hair on fire for her insolence, and she managed to keep her composure.
“It’s nothing, you’re more than welcome,” Azula replied as she pried Claudia off of her. Zuko watched from the edge of the table, glowering at the spectacle. Lying always did come easy to Azula. While the prince did not trust these outsiders, using them the way Azula did made him uncomfortable. Still, it was better than executing them, as long as they truly were not assassins. Ozai had restored his honor, and Zuko would not shame himself by disobeying his father again.
“Okay, so, what now?” Soren asked impatiently. It did not look like he was going to be home in time for his ceremony. He still considered himself a Crownguard though, regardless of if he was officially sworn in and took the oath. Soren would make sure no one forgot that. “What do we need to do?”
“I’ll have to create a new spell to try and reopen the portal home,” Claudia said, scratching her head. “Some of those ingredients I used were not easy to get either. You wouldn’t happen to have any unicorn mane lying around, would you?”
“What is a unicorn?” Zuko asked incredulously. “Is that like some kind of tiger monkey?” Claudia sighed and rubbed her temple, causing Zuko to shrug in confusion.
“Okay, I have to make a new spell using all new different ingredients then…” Claudia grumbled for a moment, and Soren was worried until Claudia put a bright smile on her face. “But hey! That just means I get to experiment with a whole new kingdom of animals! Imagine all the new spells I could invent!”
“We will assist you in any way we can, Claudia was it?” Azula said, her words still sweet. “I would love to learn how your spells work, but first, I think you both need some rest after such a harrowing experience. Come, we’ll show you a tour of the palace and where you’ll be staying. I’ll make sure the guards and staff know you are our most esteemed guests in your time of need.”
Azula snapped her fingers, and the guards stepped in line as she led Soren and Claudia out of the treasure room with Zuko not far behind. Things were already starting off even better than she planned, and Azula loved every bit of it.
#Azula#Soren#Claudia#Zuko#Ozai#avatar the last airbender#the dragon prince#White Knight Red Queen#fanfic
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So How Did You Two Meet?
For the Eruri Valentine’s Weekend. By @ladymacbethsspot and I!
Ao3
When they arrived at the sperm bank, Hanji went into the reception area with him to be sure Erwin didn’t chicken out. There was no way, after all this, they would let Erwin off the hook.
Hanji had done all the legwork--and there was a lot of it. Twenty-five pages of questions. Hanji even had to call Erwin’s mother for some of them. In retrospect, she was a very nice woman. At first it was difficult to get some of the more personal information (family medical history, a photo of Erwin as a child), but once their bet had been explained she was more than willing to oblige.
It was no surprise that Erwin was nervous, but Hanji’s death-grip on his arm ensured that they marched directly up to the front desk. Up to the serious-looking dark-haired man staring angrily at his computer screen.
Hanji took charge, reading that man’s name tag. “Levi! This man needs to give you his seed.”
Erwin gasped, the blood draining from his face, and tried to clamp a hand over Hanji’s mouth, only to be expertly batted away. The man turned to face them slowly. He looked at Hanji, shaking his head silently. He looked at Erwin, up, then down, and shook his head again.
“Do you have an appointment?” Levi drawled, turning back to the computer screen.
“Yes, for one, Erwin Smith. That’s S-M-I-T-H.”
“I gathered that, yes.” The man poked at his keyboard, “Ah, okay, here you are. Wait, you said that was S-M-I-T-H, right? No silent Q or anything?” He arched an eyebrow, chuckling to himself. Erwin stared intently at his shoes.
“Nope!” Hanji said happily.
“I’ll get your file. Meet me by the door to your left.” The man stood, disappearing into the office.
“Hanji,” Erwin said. “Do you have to make this the most mortifying day of my life?”
“Of course. I won the bet.” Hanji turned to look up at Erwin, smiling widely. “He’s cute, don’t you think?”
“Now is not the time to think about how cute someone might be.” Erwin dragged a hand over his face.
“Remember what we’re here for, Erwin.” Hanji jabbed an elbow into Erwin’s ribs, wiggling their eyebrows.
“Jesus Christ.”
The door to their left opened. Levi stood, holding a binder. Out from behind the desk, his small stature was much more obvious. The short sleeves of his top reaching almost to the elbows of well-muscled arms. Hanji gave him a quick once-over, jabbing Erwin painfully in the ribs again.
“Follow me,” Levi said wearily, turning to lead them down the hall.
Hanji looked over at Erwin, ready to offer words of encouragement. But he looked distracted- his eyes fixed firmly to the perky form of Levi’s ass moving beneath thin fabric. Hanji leaned close to Erwin, whispering loudly, “He’s got a nice butt, huh?”
“Shut up!” he said, shoving them.
Levi turned at the commotion, glaring at them both, and continued to walk. He opened a small door and ushered them into a room with three uncomfortable-looking metal chairs, and a small desk, motioning for them to both take a seat as he took his own place behind the desk.
“Do you have any questions?”
Hanji inhaled, ready to unleash a torrent of weird questions.
“No, Hanji,” Erwin added quickly. “I’m okay.”
Levi looked at them both. He took a deep breath before beginning, rattling off a series of quick instructions. “Okay, well I’ll go over it quickly then. It’s really not hard. Until you make it hard, then it’s easy. You’ll go into another room. Don’t be nervous, you won’t be thrust into anything, it’s very private. There’s a, let’s say, package, of reading material and videos you can choose from. So, just have a ball, or two. Now, when you’re doing this, don’t get too cocky. We’re just looking for a sample at this stage, so pull out your best effort but don’t be a jerk off and leave a big mess.”
“That’s a lot to take in,” Hanji said.
“Good one!” Levi answered, tapping a pen on the binder for emphasis.
��“Oh,” Hanji responded, giggling.
“If you’re ready,” Levi said, “the room is just across from us. That’s where the magic happens.”
Erwin got up quickly. He stepped into the hall, getting as far as his hand on the doorknob of the room Levi had indicated before he was interrupted.
“Wait!” Hanji said. “Are you sure they’ll have…” they lowered their voice, “stuff you’ll like in there?”
“Hanji…” Erwin sighed in exasperation.
“Because I brought stuff!” They reached into their bag, pulling out dozens of male porn mags.
Hanji saw Levi’s eyes widen.
“I wasn’t sure which you liked best so I got an assortment- do you want to start with Oklahomo or Bat Dude and Throbbin?”
“Oh, God,” Erwin said, reddening. He started opening the door just to get away from them.
Levi chimed in, “Oh, also, looks like there’s one question that I was meaning to get answered.”
Erwin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “What. Is. It?”
“Circumcised or uncircumcised?” Levi asked, fixing Erwin with a blank stare, pen poised over paper.
“Circumcised.”
Levi nodded, but made no move.
“Are you going to write that down?” Erwin prompted.
“What are you talking about?”
Hanji hooted, slapping their bag of porn.
Erwin shook his head. He was about to turn the doorknob.
“Oh. One more thing.” Erwin turned to face them both, a pained look on his handsome features. Levi pulled a small plastic jar from his pocket, slamming it on the desk.
“Alright,” Levi said. “Fill ‘er up!”
There was a long silence.
“What, do you need another one?”
More silence.
“Bad joke,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry.
Erwin reached out, snatching the jar up as quickly as he could and hurrying to open the door to the other room. As he stepped in he heard Levi comment to Hanji, “Over under on how long he’s in there?”
“Ooh,” Hanji said.
Erwin slammed the door.
Once Erwin had left, Levi and Hanji sat in silence for a few moments. Levi sat writing something. When Hanji peeked, they saw he was drawing dick after dick. Very detailed renditions.
“So, uh, you learn a lot about male anatomy in this job, huh?” Hanji asked, attempting to break the awkward silence.
Levi looked up slowly. “I guess- learned that pee is stored in the balls.” Hanji snorted, covering their mouth.
“But seriously though,” they continued, scooting their chair over and crowding close to the desk, “I have questions! Where do you keep it all? How do you keep it fresh?”
Levi blinked, leaning back. “We freeze it.”
“How do you decide who gets which sperm?”
“That’s above my pay grade.”
“How many little swimmers are in those samples?”
“Well…” Levi paused, leaning forward conspiratorially, “you know there’s actually somewhere between 15 and 200 million sperm per milliliter of semen.” Hanji’s eyebrows shot up.
“Really?! That many?”
Levi nodded, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“How do you put it in the woman?”
Levi grew serious. “That’s not my area of expertise.”
“How much sperm do you use on each egg? Is there someone who counts them out? How do you count sperm? Will Erwin’s load make 200 million babies-”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Levi interrupted, his eye twitching.
“Aw.” Hanji deflated. They sat for a few moments. Levi shifted in his seat.
“So, what brings you two here anyway? I usually just see guys come in alone.”
Hanji looked over. “I won a bet,” they answered with a wide smile.
Levi whistled. “That’s some bet. What if you’d lost?”
“No coffee for a month! There was no way I was going to let Erwin win, this was way too important. So anyway...you think Erwin’s hot?”
“Where did that come from?”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” they said coolly.
“Hmm, Blondie?” Levi said. “Yeah, I’d climb that big ass tr--”
The door to the private room opened. Erwin stepped out, looking noticeably calmer, holding the closed plastic jar.
“Put it here,” Levi said, pointing to the desk.
Erwin set it down. There was a long moment where all three of them contemplated it. Finally, Levi stood from behind the desk.
“Well, I think we’re all finished here. I’ve got everything I need.”
Erwin held out his hand for Levi to shake. Levi stared at it, unmoving.
“Oh.”
Erwin and Hanji started to leave. Before they’d gotten out the door Hanji dashed back up to Levi and whispered in his ear, “That number I wrote on the form is Erwin’s cell. He likes men. He’s single.”
Levi called the next week. “Is this Erwin Smith? It’s Levi. From the sperm bank? I’m gonna need another sample. Say my place? Friday night?...Sorry. Bad joke.”
Erwin choked on his coffee. Spluttering for a moment before responding with a raspy, “Excuse me?”
Sliding into the booth opposite Erwin, Levi picked up the menu.
“It’s good to see you Levi.” Erwin greeted him.
“Yeah, you too.” Levi stared at the cocktail list. “Oh, by the way, I got your text. Don’t worry, there was an issue with your paperwork, we ended up destroying the sample.” He looked up, winking at Erwin.
Erwin breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Thank you.”
Ao3
#Eruri#Eruriweekend#Erwin Smith#Levi Ackerman#SnK#ladymacbethsspot#we were cracking up writing this#my writing
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An excerpt from a short story i had done a while back, one of my first fics about makers exclusively. It’s a nice change of pace, since I always write about humans and angels, personally, i like the way @imagine-darksiders portrays makers and the different characters personalities. She does a much better job writing Maker love than I.
This story features my nephilim oc, Penumbra (Poli’ahu; a.k.a. Ice Mom) - -’
Now that i think about it, I normally start all my stories by writing the ending....
Could this be a sign?
Karn's grey eyes squinted against the oncoming snow. He turned to look over his shoulder again. Poli'ahu was still curled up against the frozen ward. "Are you alright, Poli'ahu?" Karn asked as he shuffled over to where the nephilim rested. "You don't sound like yourself."
She sighed. "I'm a little tired, perhaps. But I feel... peaceful. Your success today was, to a small degree, my success. You and the other will live now; secure and safe from the nephilim."
"Why did you do this for us, Poli'ahu?" the young maker asked, kneeling over her. "You didn't have'ta risk your life like that..."
The nephilim shook her head, platinum locks swaying as she frowned. "You are my friend, Karn. That in itself is a tremendous thing. After all, what's a life, anyhow? We're born, we'll live our lives for a little while- some of us longer than others- and then we die. A Nephilim's life can't help being something of amiss; what with all that wandering planet to planet, destroying everything plundering, corrupting... By helping you, and Muria, and Eidard, and the twins, perhaps I was trying to lift my own life up a trifle."
The maker bashfully bowed his head. "I haven't your gift for words, Poli'ahu, but you saved me, and I'd gladly give my life for you."
"I'm sure you would..." she breathed.
"Oh won't it be wonderful to be back home, back at Tri-Stone with Thane and the ol' boys again? I bet Muria misses ya sumthin' awful-"
Quietly, the nephilim interrupted him. "I will not be going back to Tri-Stone."
"Not going back?" The young maker's gruff voice trailed off in that instant. "what'r ya talkin' about?"
"I'm done for, Karn," She removed her hand from her breast, revealing what was once a perfect oblong opalescent stone embedded in her chest, now cracked with a gaping hole, and dull of its once radiant glow. "In a little while, I'll be dead. I haven't even the strength to move-"
"Oh no!" Karn's eyes fell wet with tears, threatening to unleash torrents of sorrow. He bent over her, looking into her shirt. There were no visible chips of the Heart Stone around, none on the icy floor, or her clothes. He couldn't really do much searching through the fog of wetness in his eyes. "We.. We can find a way to fix it! We- Mruia could patch ya' up, and you'll be up and runnin' again in no time, you'll see!"
"Oh, come, come now, Karn! Don't cry for me. Chin up, remember? Everybody loves a happy face-"
He didn't face her, but she could see enough of his face to know he was heartbroken. It felt like it took every ounce of strength she had, but the nephilim used it to lift her arm just so she could tenderly touch her friend's tear-stained cheek."But I can't stand it! I won't leave ya alone here to die!" He angrily wiped his face and collected her cold fingers into the gentlest grasp he could muster without shaking. "I shall stay, too."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Karn! Elder Eidard will be here in a few minutes. You'll be going home soon..."
She seemed like she had fallen asleep, so he hastily shook her. "Poli'ahu!"
She smiled warmly, meeting his wet eyes with a half-lidded gaze of milky violet. "I'm thinking of your life, now Karn. You're safe. You're all safe. Nothing can harm you, now..."
The light in the stone was completely gone now, a cold dark husk of rock in a lifeless chest. Karn couldn't help but to let himself weep over her, holding her hand to his chin, lips quivering.
"Poli'ahu? Poli'ahu?!"
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part 7
WHO’S READY FOR MORE QUID PRO QUO??? =J
Cuz dis bitch is ready for more qpq I am psyched!
Too much Wreck Havoc (Skylar Grey) inspiration here. Thx Heather. :I
Everyone knew he was only here because they expected a hard fight and a bloody victory. As a mech who grew up fighting for life in the arenas of Kaonl a mech who’d fought and trained with Megatron, there was never any other question than violence. With weapons that far exceeded most Autobot’s capabilities, there was always a chilling fear in the air when he arrived.
Blackout’s arrival was signaled by the damn minicon digger that popped up to cause mayhem among the masses of Autobot’s. In the middle of a fight it was hard to feel the difference between the trembling ground from all the pedes and clashing weapons, the explosions and falling bodies, and the monstrosity that came plowing out of the ground right in a crowd.
Autobot’s with a need for survival- cowards, as Blackout would call them- took for cover or fled. Orders or not, they’d think with a shudder, this wasn’t a fight worth fighting if you knew you had no chance of winning.
The surge of EMP’s would wash over sectors next of Autobots thereafter; effectively temporarily jamming weapons, communications, sonar, and lock-on functions, followed by the eruptions of cannon blasts streaming across the front line.
Bodies and body parts went soaring and crashing through the lines. Bots got hit, set aflame, seared and blown into smithereens. Nothing but a massacre in his sights. Taking advantage of the chaos and confusion, Blackout would take the opportunity to transform close to the ground closest to the nearest group of Autobot’s that had survived his initial attack.
All bets were off.
~
With a screech, the nearest Autobot turned to look up at the enormous Decepticon standing beside him. He swung to raise his blaster. A wasted effort.
Blackout discharged his cannon; blowing a hole nearly through the mech’s chassis. He was a washed out grey before he hit the ground.
Thunder growled through Blackout menacingly. As the Autobot’s began littering his thick armor with scorch marks from their energon blasters, he reached around and unlatched his rotor mount to snap his arm swiftly around. In one sweep of his arm, he cleared a wave of Autobot’s standing too close; beheading the group.
Horrified and furious screams filled the air. In disarray, Autobots were grabbing any guns, grenades, blasters, flash-bangs and unloading anything they could lay their servos on upon the giant obsidian beast.
A metallic shrill came from below the ground, and Scorponok left up to tackle a mech to the ground. The mech attempted to wrestle the minicon off but his stuggle didn’t last long as the bug’s barbed tail pierced through his helm.
Electricity crackled along the edges of Blackout’s cannon and he fired, taking out another Autobot.
Then another.
And another.
As a wave of them tried flocking him, Blackout smirked, releasing another EMP energy wave and knocking part of the ground back.
His rotors came up and the sheer force of the RPM’s created almost a shield. Blaster shots seemed to evaporate and be dispersed before him. With his cannon recharged, the Decepticon General fired into the assembled crowd.
The HUD system in his optics flickered; something was locked on him.
Disengaging his rotors, Blackout marched onward. His EMP wave snapped across the battlefield, hoping to take out whatever was about to hit him.
Then he spotted it.
< Scorponok, missile launcher, one-hundred-forty degrees west. >
< On it. >
It was too late though, the damn thing already initiated.
The only down side to being as big as Blackout was had to be this. If he couldn’t break it fast enough, he was one of- if not the- largest target on the field.
Leaving himself open to attack, Blackout released EMP wave after EMP wave in the direction of the incoming missile, overheating his generator and lessening its effectiveness.
Scrap, there was no way he was going to disengage it in time.
With no other choice, Blackout tried running as far as he could from the blast radius.
The missile mushroomed in close proximity to Blackout. Shrapnel and fire licked its way into his backstrut. He winced internally, snarling as he to erupt cannon blast after cannon blast into the Autobot’s ranks in every direction. His backside hurt like frag, and he didn’t even want to think about how much time he was going to need with a medic later over it.
His optics darted over to the missile launcher expectedly. Right on cue, a scorpion shadow flew out from the ground and pummeled into the launcher. The nearest Autobot’s trying to load and reset the machine attempted to save their weapon, only to be mangled by the small critter’s drills.
Smaller machine guns popped up from Blackout’s shoulders and pivoted around. A soft ‘ping ping ping’ mechanically hit repeat as smaller ammunition went puncturing into the armor of the Autobot’s in closest proximity.
Autobot’s came dashing at Blackout from either side. They were small and lean; built for speed and agility. Placing his rotors back on his back, Blackout waited for one of them to close in too much. They were being riddled with holes from his machine guns here and there but their reactions were too swift to get more than a few minor hits before they’d be swiveling in a new direction.
Patience. Patience.
There.
Slamming his pede into the ground and striking out like a cobra, Blackout snatched the Autobot up by the neck as they came in hot. Shock glittered in the femme’s cyan optics, and she barely managed to chock as if to plea when Blackout’s large digits pressed in hard and fast; crushing her throat and tearing into vital energon lines in her neck.
He dropped her and she fell in a dead heap on the ground.
A flash of pain and a laceration bloomed on Blackout’s side as the other Autobot struck with a blade. Rumbling angrily, Blackout turned to swipe at the femme. She managed to dodge him and went to jab at him again; glancing his armor as Blackout jerked to the side.
His optic ridges drew down slightly, annoyed.
Yelling furiously, the femme went to slice at Blackout’s chassis.
A section of armor plating shifted aside on his chassis as he backstepped and a very small cannon unfurled out. It made a small explosive crack in the air and the blast just about incinerated the femme’s helm.
Turning around, Blackout brought up his cannon once more and fired out into what remained of the Autobot’s. Others were fleeing as fast as their pedes and alt-modes would allow, and the Decepticon forces had managed to carve their way into the masses by now.
He took a longer pause between blasts of his cannon to seek out Scorponok. Sure enough, the minicon came hurtling into an Autobot; stabbing and shredding with his pincers. Another turned to aim a blaster at him and Scorponok raised his drills; unleashing a small barrage of rockets upon the mech and blowing up his chassis into a flayed mess of energon and twisted metal.
Stomping further into the Autobot’s remaining forces, Blackout whipped out his smaller rotor blades from his arm and began hacking into any Autobot who managed to purposefully or accidentally get too close. Severing arteries, fracturing armor, tearing off limbs. He’d slam his cannon into larger mechs daring to try going head-to-head and blow a whole straight through them.
His maroon optics trailed across the battlefield as he unleashed another torrent of cannon-fire. Some of the Autobot’s weren’t even staring in the direction of the Decepticons, he thought humorlessly. Fools.
But their behavior was odd; they were looking off to the East.
Blackout moved his gaze swiftly to the right of the battlegrounds to see what the commotion was.
A small streak of white low to the ground was practically flying across the battlefield. Maneuvering with ease as it zigzagged around legs and bounded over carcasses of bodies in a single leap.
The figure transformed mid-jump to crash into the faceplate of a mech trying to shoot at it, and Blackout felt a wave of shock ripple through him like a downpour.
There was no way...
The femme’s surprise attack and weight had the mech falling back and she rolled off of him and was on her pedes before he was even on the ground. Even in bipedal mode she had all the grace of her alt-mode, but some of her speed seemed to be lacking.
Blackout didn’t even realize he’d stopped fired, so intently watching as Novastrike pulled out a pair of pistols. He spotted her target, curiosity tingling...
He recognized the type of fire from her guns, however, as she attacked. Stun guns. Blackout almost grinned. Almost.
The Autobot she bombarded went limp and fell upon the ground. She charged onward; forging her own way through the bots only to pounce on some while dodging out of the way of others.
Blackout raised his cannon.
He grunted softly.
Shoot, fragger. Do your job.
Blackout fired, missing Novastrike and hitting an Autobot who had been aiming a sniper at her.
Shoot her.
He took out another Autobot in her path. She didn’t seem to notice the sheer amount of dumb luck and just took the opportunities handed to her. Bolting around explosions, dancing out of the way of those who tried standing in her path.
Primus, she was elegant, nimble. So much had changed since he last saw her, damaged, broken. It was admirable; she was almost unearthly.
He felt sick with himself, feeling this awed.
Novastrike jumped a pile of debris and landed neatly beside a pile of Autobot supplies. It was then that Blackout noticed he had been helping her create a path for those following not too far behind her. He frowned slightly with confusion.
A large vehicle came barreling up from another direction and skidded to a halt beside the group, and that’s when Blackout noticed them loading energon as fast as they could.
Splatters of plasma blasted up from Blackout’s shoulder and onto the side of his helm and neck. He bared a grimace and turned to see a mech making a run for it, seeming to have missed a crucial moment to try blasting Blackout in the helm.
He quickly raised his cannon and took out the mech’s legs. The nearest bloodthirsty Decepticon came rushing the downed mech, laughing madly.
Blackout’s looked quickly back to where he last saw Novastrike. His spark leapt a moment, not seeing her. He glanced around and spotted the vehicle that had came out of nowhere racing wildly off the battlefield. Hanging off the back end with another bot was a familiar white-armored femme.
A growling, grumbling mech began stomping over to Blackout. He glanced over to the mech and began to morph his cannon back into an arm and close up his vast arsenal of weapons.
“Filthy factionless,” the mech spat. “Can’t pick a side, always stealing scrap. Do we follow them?”
“No,” Blackout replied in a gravely tone. “Track down the Autobots.”
“But-”
“The factionless aren’t our problem,” Blackout growled. “I’m the one in charge here. We track down as many of the Autobots we can and offline them. Do you understand?”
The mech curled his lip slightly, but nodded solemnly.
< Scorponok. >
< I’m here. >
< Follow as many of the Autobots as you can and take them out. If you find any large groups inform me so a team can be dispatched. >
< Of course, sir. >
Blackout glanced over to where Novastrike and the rogue group of bots had escaped. A very small tug on the corner of his mouth pulled upward. He wasn’t quite sure she’d managed to escape alive despite his aid in getting her out of the Decepticon’s hold, but it seemed she was full of surprises.
< Aren’t you going to help search? > Scorponok questioned.
< I have other priorities. Get to work, Scorponok. > Blackout responded.
< Heh. Bossing me around when you’re the one staring out after the femme with a stupid smile on your face. Rich. >
The faint grin instantly vanished from the Decepticon Hound’s faceplate to be replaced by a vexed scowl as his optic ridges pulled down.
< I’m not smiling. >
< Sure you’re not, Blackout. >
Blackout growled quietly. He could hear the laughter from the bug before he severed the bond with his partner echoing in his helm.
Smart aft little fragger.
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Direwolf: II
KTL-03, District S-1, Heaven’s Overlook 5 Solar Minutes before event
“Bet still on?” Direwolf grunted as he rolled a shoulder. “What bet?” Diamond asked, cocking a shotgun. “Wait. Don’t tell me.” “300 Delta. You want in, Dia?” Izumi chirped while twirling a blade of hers. “Fine. We live. 300.” Diamond hummed begrudgingly. “Honestly. No faith in me.” “It’s not if Seraphim kills us. Well, not entirely, anyway. It’s also taking into account the escape.” Izumi clarified. “Going to have to see if I remember how to blitzrace.” Direwolf patted Izumi’s shoulder with a heavy thud. “You better. Heh. Everything’s good on your end, Dia?” “Ready to execute, just like we practiced.” Diamond saluted energetically, eager to commence the high-risk plan. “Alright. Time to make history.” Direwolf’s visor lowered, locking into place as he stood up from his bar seat. His companions followed, sliding down the large crater wall. The spectating crowd was sparse, consistent of a handful of mercenaries and off-worlder aristocrats looking for a nice view. Tension rose among them as they noticed another team heading down, eager to see how they die.
Direwolf pressed a button on the device Diamond had acquired, uploading the Eternal IFF. His partners followed suit. The trio’s visors pinged with the flag of the Eternals, a unique stylized E with an infinity symbol emblazoned behind it accompanied by other flourishes. Citizenship certifications flashed and stored themselves away, making themselves visible on their IDs. These updated across other systems almost instantly, prompting a mass flagging of their names. “Oh, shit. We better hurry.” Diamond scurried off ahead, her partners in tow as she slid down the massive crater’s incline.
The Angel stared onward, noticing more intruders. She fired her wings and gauntlets up, ready to kill more. On instinct, she launched forward and swiped at the Silicine ahead of her. Diamond cowered, expecting impending death. The gauntlet smashed beside her into the ground, deflected by unknown force. Even the Angel stood still, shocked. “Wh… What is this?” Seraphim spoke with a raspy, quiet voice, a voice that hadn’t done much other than scream in fury for years. “Are you… Survivors? No. Impossible.” “Doesn’t matter. Protect us. Bring that with you.” Direwolf commanded, pointing at the man-sized Library that stood in the center of the crater. “Oh, and kill anyone that tries to stop us.” Seraphim hesitantly saluted, lips pursed behind her visor. “Of course. Citizen.” The Angel hefted her precious cargo and wrapped it in her wings before following at a brisk pace. A commotion began atop the ridge of Heaven’s Impact, unsure if what they were witnessing was real. Murmurs of surprise, doubt, and anger rose to a clamor. “They’re fucking stealing the Angel!? Do- Do we shoot ‘em!?” One shouted. Most spectators were confused. Some of higher ranks grinned in excitement. The thieving trio and their guardian rushed as quick as they could up the incline of the crater, aware of their impending death should they tarry.
——- District A-5, Corp Monolith Security Office Event Zero Hour
“Hey. Is Ciel down in S-1?” A Corp employee lazily asked. “There’s an Eternal IFF signal down there.” “Wh- No. Bash, Ciel’s off-world. What the hell are you talking about?” Another employee responded, the only other one present as that day’s security monitor. “Look at S-1. There’s- Shit. That’s three signals. What the fuck?” Bash frowned with vague concern. “Who does this shit in broad daylight?” “Running them.” Bash’s partner sifted through the few known Eternal citizenship IDs, finding the trio almost instantly. “Direwolf, Izumi, and Diamond. All Class-A. Decent ranks. No slouches.” “Yo, uhh, Rvin. Do I send an alert, or do I put a bounty out, or what?” “Well, of course we sound the alarm. Having an Eternal registry is illegal.” “No, like, they just shanghaied the Angel.” Rvin froze. “They did what?” “Yeah. They didn’t kill her or anything, they just stole- Ah, fuck, haha. It’s both Seraphim and the Library.” Bash grinned, amused. “What’s the protocol, boss?” “Damn it, these ones have brains.” The lead security officer sighed, in no real rush to handle the situation, confident it could be resolved. They were the Corp, nothing ever beats the Corp. “In short, it’ll be kill teams and quarantining the planet with orbital guns. Apex called it the Gates of Heaven Contingency.” “Apex sounds like a shithead, giving a name like that. Hahaha.” Bash kicked back, readying the procedure in his own interface. “Yeah, I’m aware. We all are. He loves it, though.” Rvin replied, doing the same task. “Let me know when you’re ready. You’re in for a treat.” “And you’re not? Not everyday we’ve gotten to unleash enough firepower to tear apart anything in orbit.” Bash replied, an eyebrow raised. “Not the first time I’ve gotten to see it, that’s all. I wasn’t in here the last time.” “Shit, this has happened before? You’re old, Rvin.” “I’m going to ignore that. Ready?” ”Yeah.” Bash, still propped up on his terminal, lazily readied a finger to activate his end of the protocol. Both security officers pushed their respective buttons simultaneously, enacting the Gates of Heaven Contingency for the third time in its service.
——- District S-1, Edge of Heaven’s Overlook 2 Solar Minutes after Event
The entirety of KTL-03 shook, alarms blaring across every district. Each mercenary in employ recieved an alert.
“The Angel has been stolen,” It began. “The following mercenaries are hereby removed from KTL-03’s employ and subject to immediate termination.” A list showed Direwolf, Izumi, and Diamond’s profiles, saving them to each individual’s data banks for easy access. “Bounty is currently set at 10,000,000 Delta each. Good hunting, Terzes.”
The announcement concluded, sirens still blaring and the planet still rumbling. Nearby, a large series of orbital guns rose from hatches in the ground, long dormant but just as intimidating as they were since their previous deployment. “Oh, what the fuck is that?” Direwolf stared at the massive cannons slowly awakening from their slumber through old windows of a warehouse. “Corp’s making a big deal out of this, eh?” “Seraphim’s a big deal. And we kinda stole her.” Izumi retorted, flicking a series of switches within their craft that brought it to life. “Dia, we good on the decoys?” Diamond hopped back into the vehicle, an old blitzracing craft once known as ‘White Comet’. Nigh unparalleled in speed, and surrounded by some of its rivals in the warehouse. “Drones ready, and ECM’s up! We should be fine! I hope.” Without delay, the Maaico ex-blitzracer sent the team flying forward in her White Comet, the engines of five other craft screaming with speed as they made their escape. Direwolf nudged Seraphim, tilting his head toward the back. “Don’t forget your role. Keep anything off of us, but try to keep it… I dunno. Subtle.” Seraphim nodded hesitantly. Real orders from real people. Still a slave, but it was one step out of hell. She readied herself for any retaliation.
——- District A-5, Corp Monolith 3 Solar Minutes after Event
“Ah, hell. Six vehicles, moving at high velocity from that warehouse.” Bash grunted. “All covered by some serious ECM. They’ve really gone out of their way, huh?” Rvin moved to scan the vehicles, but found herself surprised. “Those are blitzracing craft. They’re moving too fast for the scanner to keep up with both the velocity and breaching the signal jam.” “I thought we had the shit for this, ah?” “We do.” Rvin scowled as she brought down interfaces for cannons from stealth drones in the sky. “Get shooting.”
——- District S-1, Unoccupied Space 4 Solar Minutes after Event
A torrent of bolts rained down from the sky from two craft far above the clouds, tearing two of the blitzracing craft apart. Their overcharged generators and volatile fuel exploded with violent spectacle, prompting the escapee group to sweat a bit, metaphorically for those anatomically incapable. “Oh, fuck. That’s 1 and 4 down.” Diamond shook in mild panic. “Can this go faster, Izumi?” “Might attract attention if I push it even more. Comet’s got special stuff not in the decoys.” “Hey, Angel. Can you find what’s shooting at us?” Seraphim looked at the sky. It was grey, vast, despondent as usual. In it held a contingent of drones far above the cloud cover, seeking new targets. There were such drones in every district, poised to strike with impunity. “Relaying information, sir.” “What’s with the sass? Shit. Just shoot them down. We’re trying to get you free of this thing, you know.” Seraphim’s eyes lit up. Freedom? Not a life enslaved to an ancient weapons system? These mercs weren’t planning to keep her like this? Insane. Preposterous. Something worth fighting for. “ Her weapon systems changed from her usual energy claws to a large set of cannons, geometric and glowing with eager fury. Within moments, targets were locked, and Seraphim fired her guns into the sky. Pillars of light began to pierce every drone she could see. They would not take her freedom again. “The hell did I say about keeping it subtle!?” Direwolf shouted. “Permission to also disobey orders, captain.” Izumi called from the driver’s seat. Direwolf threw up a middle finger, an era-old signal to fuck off. “Roger that, chief.” Izumi sent the craft rocketing forward at an even higher velocity, easily breaking the sound barrier as it shot across the empty land ahead. The vehicle swerved with expert precision, evading fire while the legendary Angel shot into the skies, a lightshow and a dance of life and death.
——- District A-5, Corp Monolith 9 Solar Minutes after Event
“Damn it. Pull the drones out. You have a lock?” Bash scoffed. “Duh. This one.” He pointed at the designated vehicle, acquiring footage through a satellite camera. The angel’s heavenly cannons shot their bright yellow bolts out with glistening glory, decimating aerial countermeasures with desperate zeal. “Can’t we just point one of the big guns at her?” Bash shrugged. “Wouldn’t that handle it?” “Nope. That’s the reason W-17 looks the way it does.” Rvin shook her head. “Wh- They said that was a Ikraadi generator gone haywire. Shit, there’s a lot I still don’t know.” “This is why we need precision. If we can get them to stay still, we can warp in and handle the rest. Might have to wait until they decide to camp out, or what have you.” Rvin stared at the craft from the many eyes above. “Also, we need Ciel. She’s in charge of this particular subject.” Bash cracked into a karmotrine-laden beverage and sipped it calmly. “So, what do we do until then?” “Unfortunately, do our job. It’s mostly out of our hands now. Not to worry, though. Their cheeky little joyride won’t last forever.” Rvin hit a button on her interface, similarly ordering a chemdrink of her own. Both of the Corp employees toasted, watching the White Comet sail across the barren surface of KTL-03’s untouched badlands.
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