#ch: (oswald marks)

[menodoramoon]

Letting Go in All the Wrong Ways || Shadow on the Moon

Characters: Menodora Butterfly-Johansen, Oswald Marks (@oswaldxmarks) Date: 29 Sept 2024 Summary: Post-Mjaunie, Moon invites Oswald over for Blackberry Danishes. Things take a turn. Content Warnings: Depression Mention, Bug Mentions, uhhhhh…#swynsmut??

Read Here (Ellipsus). Or, In the Reblog under a Cut**

** At your own peril, it's 17.6K words ^^;

[menodoramoon]

Aha. So she's lost it. She's put meaning where there wasn't any and she's made it worse. Good to know! Excellent! Moon could just scream. She wouldn't, but she could. Perhaps. (If years of formal etiquette and judgement for showing emotion were stripped away.)

He looks confused for being asked. What did she mean? And now she feels properly bad for having mucked this up. He was being nice, she read too far into it. That's-- that was just Menodora. Worrisome and Worrying.

She smiles nervously in turn, trying to get some gauge of Oswald's intentions. He says it wasn't his intention to upset her. Had he upset her? She doesn't-- Had he?

Menodora, if you could focus for a single moment.

'What are you doing, Menodora?'

What?

But when her gaze follows where his had been and she shifts back, trying to undo -- or, if not that, at least correct -- what she'd done. The intimacy of the act? And it really was just a simple touch, but it was familiar. And that's what was wrong with it. A familiarity that, while Oswald had been friendly with her, he hadn't assumed.

Where had she picked that up from?

(Probably from calming River's thoughts. Or slowing his runaway ideas. He could be so excitable, and a simply grounding point was always a good way to get them back on the same page.)

It seems all Moon's done now is rifled the pages between herself and Oswald.

It doesn't take much now. She flushes. Her cheeks glow again with those heliotrope-pink diamonds. She feels... silly. Mortified, generally, by what she's done and the position she's put them in.

Menodora really has lost all sense of who she's meant to be.

"No, no. I misunderstood and over-reacted. I'm sorry," she says. And it's not like when she'd spiraled before, but she is apologetic for what she's done. "I just... I misread something." She laughs, a little less genuinely. That socially polite laugh of hers with the balanced sound to it. "Don't let me ruin your celebration. Did you... did you still want help with the-- with your coffee table? The aesthetics, like you said?"

@oswaldxmarks

Hey, Neighbor! || Shadow on the Moon

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 13: Damsel Not Distressed

Some independent hero I must be. Abducted by two idiots and tied to a chair. What an icon.

How long have I been out? The sack’s still over my head.

“Where the Hell am I?” I try to give authority but my croaking voice wouldn’t startle a kitten.

“She’s awake!” One of the voices from earlier whispers nearby and heavy footsteps approach.

The sack is ripped off and sunlight blinds my eyes. On top of that my hair piles over my face and gives me no clue to where I might be. All I can see through the strands of hair is the chair I’m bound to.

“Whoever you are, I have nothing to give. Go ahead and kill me.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question,” a familiar voice calls from overhead.

A hand folds back my hair and a better view of my captive environment is allowed. It’s an abandoned skateboarding rink. A concrete arena. The goons who abducted me are still standing behind me. Up above is the one giving the orders. Edward Nigma.

“I’m truly sorry it’s come to this, Callie.”

Through the blazing sun I make out his new appearance. Instead of the prison suit I last saw him in, Nigma has donned black trousers, a green blazer, and green bowler hat with a giant question mark painted on it.

“Nigma, this is ridiculous. Why keep me hostage?”

“Because I need Crane to cooperate.”

“With what?”

“I need him to stop terrorizing the workers at the bank. That’s where my next scheme is. As much as he hates to admit it, he does care about you. When he sees you like this he’ll budge.”

If it weren’t so saddening I might actually laugh. From how Crane acted when he ushered me out of his lab I don’t think he holds any amount of affection for me.

“Sorry to disappoint you but he doesn’t care, Nigma. He’ll probably encourage my death. The only reason he keeps in touch is because he’s obsessed with my psychosis.”

Bang!

A gunshot rings out and I look around for the source. It’s- An umbrella? There’s a strange-looking portly man in a black suit holding an umbrella with smoke coming out. Is that umbrella a gun?

“This foolish game is taking too long, Nigma. I want assurance that my own business will remain untouched as well.”

Just how many people are using me as bait?

I look up, annoyed at the riddling villain. “Nigma, who the Hell is this guy?” 

“Oh! Where are my manners? I am Oswald Cobblepot, at your service. Or should I say, your untimely death.” The man does a dramatic bow and tips his hat. The Penguin.

“Et tu, Cobblepot? Do I need to spell it out? I’m not a suitable bargaining chip!”

A shuffled noise alerts me to the edge of the rink and a flash of green catches my eye.

“Really, boys? You can do better than this. Leave Callie alone.”

I smile gratefully at the familiar botanist. “Thanks, Ivy.”

Ouch. The sun’s beginning to burn. I can feel my reddening skin rubbing against the ropes I’m tied up in. At this point being shot might be a decent way out of this. No more Gotham, no more sunburn.

“Did anyone tell him?” Ivy drones in a bored tone as she leans against the stone wall.

Nigma chuckles. “I sent a riddle-” 

“Never mind,” Ivy cuts him off. “Do not need any elaboration.”

Penguin shuffles around impatiently. “I’m starting to agree with Ms. Prentiss. I don’t take Crane for the affectionate type-”

“What are you doing?” Another familiar voice asks from the shadows.

“Or perhaps I spoke too soon,” Penguin says. “It appears he figured out your riddle.”

I can’t see! Where is he-? Oh. He did come after all. Although I don’t doubt his motive is to watch the show of me being cooked. Dr. Crane strides into the arena. He’s wearing the same clothes except for one accessory: the Scarecrow mask. Is this a rumble or what?

Nigma cackles with glee and hops down from his pedestal. “Delightful! Now that you’re here, let us establish our terms. You stop gassing the bank tellers, and we don’t hurt Callie.”

“Callie?” Crane whips his head to where Ivy’s pointing at me and his face darkens. “What’s she doing here?”

“Just a little insurance that you’ll cooperate,” Penguin explains smugly.

Dr. Crane’s eyes don’t look away from me. “You’re hurting her.”

“We haven't cut a hair off of her-”

“It’s the sun. She’s burning.”

He noticed. How attentive. Whether or not he cares if I’m being burned is shielded by his plain tone. Who does start to show concern is Ivy.

“He’s right. Get on with it, Nigma. Don’t worry, Callie. I’ve got the best aloe for you.”

Nigma tilts his head, still watching Crane’s alertness towards me. Cobblepot, however, is growing impatient.

“I’ll do it myself,” he mutters. He waddles closer and points his umbrella straight at my head. “You’d better be right, Nigma. Close the deal, now. Or else I will take my associations elsewhere.”

Crane’s body stiffens. Behind his mask I see his vibrant eyes flash. He can’t be serious-

“How about a compromise?” The fear doctor suggests.

Penguin lowers his umbrella by a fraction. “I’m listening.”

“You can do your little bank scheme, but also steal an adrenaline compound for me. You get your petty cash and I get a new ingredient for my experiments.”

He’s actually going along with this? Nigma struts up wearing a devious smirk and holds out a hand. The two men shake and he leans in to whisper something to Crane. Can we please get this done? My back feels like it’s about to char. 

“Pleasure doing business, Ms. Prentiss. Perhaps next time it will be on more friendlier terms.”

Penguin tips his hat to me and disappears into the shadows. While Nigma and Crane continue their whispering Ivy comes over and sets down a white bottle.

“Aloe. Apply twice daily. This should clear that burn up right away. It was good to see you, Callie. Stay safe, stay in touch.”

She too walks off and I’m left to wait for the squabbling geeks to stop arguing about… whatever. I don’t care.

“Remember: I’m not a flower, but I bloom in the heart,

In many stories, I play a part.

I can make you cry, or make you smile,

Through hate or sadness I reconcile,” Nigma chants tauntingly.

What the Hell kind of Riddle is that?

“Now let her go!” Crane orders.

Nigma shrugs. “Very well. There’s no need to hold onto her anymore.” He pulls out a knife and slices the ropes behind my back. “Sorry again, Callie. See you later.”

“Try to use me as bait again, and you will regret it,” I hiss as the ropes rub against my skin.

The chair pulls away and I fall onto my hands and knees. The pavement is hot enough to cook an egg. I don’t even want to know how red my back is.

“You owe me.” A hand grabs my arm and I’m tugged up to stand.

“Ow! In case you forgot, I am here because of you." I sneer at Crane. "Somehow I’m a valuable bargaining chip. Care to explain why?”

Dr. Crane doesn’t answer. He finishes untying the ropes around my legs. When he’s finished I bent over to pick up Ivy’s aloe. Every inch I move causes my skin to yell at me.

“Is it safe?” Crane asks in a lazy voice.

“I trust Ivy. Plus my skin can’t get any worse now anyway.” I practically limp into the shade and lean against the cold concrete. “I was just held hostage in broad daylight. What do you expect?”

“I expect it hurts.”

No shit, genius!

“Yes. Yes it does. Now please get your gloating over with so I can be miserable in peace.”

A small dose is all it takes. I pour a small drop of the green goo onto my hand and smear it across my arm. Thank you, Ivy! It feels like liquid relief-!

“Here.” Crane takes the bottle and suddenly more aloe is being rubbed gently on my back. “This should help.”

Oh- God, he’s good at this. Of course he is. He studied anatomy the same as I. But why does he have to be so frustrating?

“You’re helping? Are you high?”

“Hardly. These actions are based on pity, Dr. Prentiss. You look like a cracker dipped in ketchup.”

Surprising. He still has a sense of humor. Probably because it’s directed at me. 

I fight the urge to moan and pull away before I let my trust slip. I pivot and walk through the alley towards the main street. Where do I go? What direction is-?

“Your apartment is that way, Dr. Prentiss.” Crane points north.

I pull my face into a tight smile. “Thank you,” I reply stiffly.

Continuing onward. And he’s still following me.

“Did you know that- Oh come on, take it off!” I yank Crane’s mask away and shove it into his hands. “We’ll get caught! Anyways, did you know that New York built the first electric chair in 1888 because they were seeking a more humane method of execution than hanging?” 

He takes a minute to adjust to the bright sunlight. “That seems rather dark and random for you.”

“I find it interesting. We still kill, but look for more humane methods. In my line of work I’ve seen many criminals design their methods of death. Including you.”

We get to the intersection across from my apartment. Good. A hot shower- Scratch that. A freezing cold shower for my skin and some fresh clothes. My poor black dress from last night is wrinkled and dusty. With a little luck it can be saved. Some hero. Dressed the part for damsel in distress like a pro. 

“Would you like me to escort you?”

Escort? God, he’s right. I am poisoning him with thoughts of chivalry. This does not sound like the Dr. Crane from five months ago. First he lets me live from a Nigma’s crazy scheme and now he’s offering to escort me.

My tone turns gentle. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Crane nods. “Take care of those burns. Good day, Dr. Prentiss.”

He walks straight past me towards the docks. Back to his lab. So that’s it, then? Him popping in and out of my life when it concerns him. I shouldn’t care… But then why does my heart drop the further he gets down the sidewalk? Maybe Nigma’s right. Maybe he does care. Why else would he have acted to preserve my life today? Or it’s to earn a favor from me. I ‘owe’ him. Well, favor or not I’m still going ahead with my plan.

I strike first tonight.

[dcmultiverse]

[toloveawarlord]

Master List

Updated: June 18

New Updates will be marked with a ***

You can find my old master list HERE. I am not deleting it because it has older fics on it that are not included on this one.

OC Masterlist

Ikerev OC Picrew Collection

EVENT MASTER LISTS:

50 Types of Kisses

2 Yr. Ann. AU Flash Fics

Spooktober 2020

Spooktober 2019

25 Days of Christmas 2020

25 Days of Christmas 2019

25 Days of Christmas 2018

Murder Monday

Angels and Devils Valentine’s Event 2019

Ikemen Revolution

Series: Suitor/OC

○ For Crimson Glory: Iris Adley / Edgar Bright

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch 4 || Ch. 5 || Ch. 6 ||

Crimson Shorts: Iris and Edgar One-Shots: Investigation ||

○ Visions of Red: Colette Marston

 Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch.3 ||

○ Shattered Glass: Nova Clemence

 Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

○ Etched in Blood: Sophia Emerson/Fenrir Godspeed

 Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch.4 || Ch. 5 ||

Sophia and Fenrir One-Shots: Edibles || Glimpse of You || The Night Before ||

○ Behind the Times: Aspen Lancaster/Jonah Clemence

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

○ Tale as Old as Time:  Greer Atlas/Lancelot Kingsley:

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || ***

○ Ghost in the Starlight: Aster

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 ||  ***

○ Star Crossed: Wren Blackwell/Jonah Clemence

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

○ For My Master: Edgar Bright/Shae Durham/Luka Clemence 18+

 Part 1|| Part 2 ||

○ The Jack of My Heart: Joanna Clemence/Edgar Bright

Ch. 1 ||

Drabble 1 || Midnight Escapades (nsfw) ||

○ Red Fever: Edgar Bright/Naomi Kaiser/Jonah Clemence 18+

Ch. 1 ||

○ Clever Little Fox: Clarissa Bright/Loki Genetta

Ch. 1 ||

○ Kyle Ash Mental Health Series

An Off Day ||The Human Heart || In Her Mind  || Tomorrow ||

Series: Suitor/Children

Kid’s Information:

Red Army Kids Older Gen as Toddlers

Red Army:

Lancelot Kingsley:

○ Chaotic Kingsley: Atticus

Ch. 1 ||

Jonah Clemence:

○ A Queen in the Making: Caroline

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

Edgar Bright:

○ Red Army Princess: Eden

Ch. 1 ||  Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 ||

Eden Shorts: Fireworks ||

Kyle Ash: 

○ Ashes to Ashes: Beckett and Sadie

Ch. 1 ||

Black Army:

Luka Clemence:

○ Twin Collision: Ezra and Valarie

Ch. 1 ||

Seth Hyde:

○ Devils in Disguise: Sasha

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

Fenrir Godspeed:

○ Black Army Mischief Maker: Finley

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 ||

Finley Shorts: Turning Five || Godspeed Family Birthday HC ||

Au w/ @plumpblueberry Noah Blackwell - “After the Rain” ||

Neutrals:

Loki Genetta:

○ Caged Magic: Lux and Leif

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

Mousse Atlas:

○ The Atlas Puzzle: Khepri

Ch. 1 ||

Suitor x Suitor Kids:

Edgar and Luka:

○ A Pair of Jacks: Evie

Pt. 1 ||

One Shots: Silver-Lining || Confession

Lancelot and Jonah:

○ Crowned Royalty: Ivy and Rose

Pt. 1 ||

Mini- Series:

○ What Once Was: Emery Hayes

Telling Luka || Telling Jonah || Black Army ||

One-Shots:

Black Army:

Sirius Oswald 

Birthday Game (IDW)

Luka Clemence

I’m Here || Made a Maid

Fenrir Godspeed -

Tomato War || Main Assest

Red Army

Lancelot Kingsley

Sweet Temptation (nsfw)||

Jonah Clemence -

Despacito || It Matters (nsfw) || Family Sins || Stay Strong ||

Edgar Bright -

Light of My Life (IDW || One sided || Drunk on You (nsfw IDW) ||

Analysis of Edgar’s Trial ||

Kyle Ash

Under the Desk (nsfw) || Ghosts in the Night (IDW)

Neutrals:

Harr Silver

A Wish

Loki Genetta

Birthday Mess

Mousse Atlas

Sleeping Mouse||

Oliver Knight

Hideout||

Amon

The Mad King (IDW) ||

Suitor x Mc x Suitor:

Kyle/MC/Edgar

Sugar Rush (nsfw)

Edgar/MC/Luka

Lost Love (IDW)

Kyle/ Mousse/ Mc

Three’s a Set (nsfw IDW)

Suitor x Suitor

Jonah/Mousse

Take It Off (IDW)

**Headcannons: **

Angles and Demons AU

Angel HC || Demon HC ||

Ikemen Vampire

Series: Suitor/OC

○ At Your Service: Ophelia/Everyone 18+

Ch. 1 ||

○ And So They Met: Alara Bayar

Pt 1. || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 4 || Part 5 ||

○ Alara One-Shots:

Birthday Morning (Alara and Mozart) ||

○ Twisted Games: Vira 18+

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||  Ch. 3 ||

○ The Essence of Music: Coralie Van Alst & Mozart

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

○ The Sight of Stars: Arthur /Mina Van Gogh/Charles

Ch. 1 ||

○ Immortal Souls: Nyx/Comte

Ch. 1 ||

Suitor x Suitor with Kid:

Theo and Arthur:

○ Truth in Simplicity: Elaine Odette Doyle x Isaac Newton

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||

Suitor One-Shots:

Theo Van Gogh

Stop Being Cute ||

Arthur Conan Doyle

Bound (nsfw)

Arthur Birthday Event 2020:

Bickering Buds || Distractions || Control (nsfw) || Rainy Days || Alcohol and Women || Playtime (nsfw) || The Best Detective || Things to Come || Drunken Pleasures (nsfw) || A Memorable Birthday ||

All Headcannons:

Parents dropping off their kid

Ikemen Sengoku

Series:

○ The Art of Love and War: Warlord Children (Multi POV)

   Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 || Ch. 5 || Ch. 6 || Ch. 7 || Ch. 8 || Ch. 9 || Ch. 10|| Ch. 11

○ The Ties that Bind Us: Rena Tokugawa / Ieyasu Tokugawa

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 || Ch.5 || Ch. 6 || ***

Ieyasu/Rena Birthday Special

○ Clever Canary: Miki / Nobunaga Oda

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 ||Ch. 4 ||Ch. 5 ||

○ Solitary Confinement: Katria Petrov / Masamune Date

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 ||Ch. 3 ||

One-Shots:

Ieyasu Tokugawa

Injury || Snow Storm || For Her (IDW)  || Alone with You ||

Sasuke Sarutobi

Till Next Time (nsfw) || Nerdling ||

Nobunaga Oda

The Cost of War (IDW) || Konpeito

Yukimura Sanada

Pregnancy ||

Mitsuhide Akechi

A Day Out||

Kennyo -

Tryst in the Forest ||

Obey Me 

NSFW HC:

 Lucifer ||

○ Chaos Reigns (Dark Lilith)

Ch. 0 ||

Lilith One Shot - In Another Life

○ The Little Vampire: Levi and Nell

Ch. 1  || Ch. 2 ||

○ Sheep Among the Wolves: Karina & Diavolo

Ch. 1 || ***

○ Love and Lust: Verena/Asmo 18+

Ch. 1 || ***

Next Gen:

Profiles can be found here

[sincerely-meg]

The thing about moving back to your not-hometown is that you don't really have hometown memories. You have.... the idea of memories. Hatters, for instance. She remembers it being something else, or was that just her parents and grandparents telling her it was something else once?

And then the fact that most of her friends weren't even from Swynlake! They were from NTO, which... as a town name, many of her American friends laughed at. Okay, that's fine.

Meg was standing on Main Street debating exactly where she was going to spend her Sunday. She was supposed to head to the Moon Market, but she was also supposed to meet a friend in maybe an hour at Tiana's Place and carting groceries that long, even perishables, didn't seem appealing. Or good for a 'no outside food and drinks' sort of place.

So what was someone to do? Yes, exactly... sit outside Hatters with a half-melted iced coffee fully contemplating her life. So lost in thought and then, "Ope, so sorry, are you trying to squeeze by?" Immediately standing up, nearly knocking over her own drink and trying to drag her chair out of the way. "Uh, sorry, sorry. Do you, were you trying to get by me, here?"

@oswaldxmarks

Just Mundus Things || Ozzy & Meg

[maiusbonum]

CH. STUDY: OSWALD’S PLACE IN MARKIPLIER LORE

so i realized that, while i sort of imply this on various places of the blog, i’ve never really had the proper shorthand words to explain who oswald is and the way he interacts with other characters within the now-extensive markiplier lore and the youtube rpc.

i wanted to provide some small notes, nothing too extensive!, in hopes of helping people out, and also just to get my OWN thoughts in order, y’know?

oswald is NOT the same as the district attorney Y/N, the Y/N from a date with markiplier, or any other Y/N from markiplier original content.

meaning: oswald is NOT the same as the viewer character. 

oswald was the result of my being absolutely obsessed with a heist with markiplier and its storyline, and creating a character AROUND that.

i call him the “ahwm protagonist” because it’s the best shorthand i have for it? but really he’s like a ... “canon divergent original character based in the ahwm universe” AKDFJJGN

“heist!mark” is NOT actor mark in oswald’s story.

his name is HENRY, and he is a character that oswald has known since childhood.

for certain aus/to interact with certain characters, this can absolutely be wiggled around and changed, but generally, henry =/= mark.

of course, these are not perfectly set-in-stone rules, and things can change if necessary. but the long and the short of it is that 

(1) oswald is not connected to the events of WKM, ADWM, etc, and while there’s some wishy-washiness, this is mostly true.

(2) oswald is not meant to erase the idea of THE VIEWER, and i wanted to clear that up because i respect that character’s existence and their validity within the fandom. (while he’s always been this way, batz brought this to my mind more immediately again and made me want to address it.)

if you have any questions, please send an ask or im my way! thanks for reading!

[menodoramoon]

The One Where Moon is Extra Unwell

Characters: Menodora Butterfly-Johansen, Oswald Marks (@oswaldxmarks)

Nov. 16th, 2024 — After Amy’s Auction

TW: Mental health crisis (depression?), Insects, Maladaptive Coping, Death Mention, Alcohol Use; (General Implications about the Commission)

Following her argument with Cass at the Date Auction, Menodora texts Oswald for company. This thread contains: two rounds of poker, at least four shots of vodka, one mental breakdown, and a messy fallout.

Read Here

--

Additional Reading:

Inbetween Hours - Menodora and Oswald discuss their not-relationship; Menodora explains some things about her past

Post-Date Auction - Menodora and Cass have an argument outside Amy's Date Auction

[majkemaniiia]

There's a man in her bed...

That's not unusual, though it's less common these days. Actually... When was the last time--...? Enough ago that this experience feels less familiar than she remembers.

He was out cold within two minutes of being thrown, haphazardly, onto her blankets last night. To be honest, she was sort of worried he should go see someone (like a doctor) when she'd practically scraped his drunk ass off the sidewalk. But, when asked... he didn't want to. And that's fair, she supposed.

It would have meant a trip to A&E and who wanted that in the dead of winter? He has dark messy hair and a popped collar and, honestly, he probably would look pretty suspicious being dragged in. He sort of had a suspicious look about him altogether which wasn't his fault but some people just look shady.

She would look suspicious bringing him.

Whatever. So there's a man in her bed and she's sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee, pretending she didn't just sleep on the couch so he wouldnt get the wrong idea.

"Rise and shine, sunshine," she says, when she hears the door to the bedroom creak. She looks over with an amused smile. Wrestling his coat off was a pain but she honestly was worried he'd overheat if she left it on, he had been sweating so much. "I made coffee and pancakes."

@oswaldxmarks

Just Another Wake Up Call | Ozke

[maedarakat]

Markless - Ch. 3

28th Oct: Soulmates AU // “I don’t need this now.”

Summary: A Mark showing up is like a rite of passage for young Vikings of the entire Archipelago. When Tuff gets his, he tells nobody - afraid it means what his Elders have always suspected about him. Likewise, Dagur’s own Mark remains secretive, afraid it will make him seem weak.

Too bad the Gods never sent down instruction manuals, since they were so keen to pair humans up this way.

Notes: This fic is ongoing, but here is what I have. There are some elements of the Twins’ family dynamic from my fic Paradigm Shift.Will post AO3 link to this story once it is complete!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

——-

Three blue lines.

That was the Mark on Hiccup; Dagur had seen it himself on their last encounter.

Granted, not in the nicest way possible - more like tackling him outright onto the forest floor on one of their many encounters. Dagur had paused to stare at Hiccup’s shoulder for far too long -  enough for Toothless to swat him off his rider and nearly bite his face off in the process.

There had been three blue lines, just like Dagur had tattooed across his eye and arm. Not exactly the same angle or shade of blue, but who cared - it was close enough that it couldn’t just be a coincidence; Hiccup was meant to be his.

The initial plan had been to find the Skrill, tame it, and then ride it in battle against Hiccup and his Night Fury.

He figured the Greek chorus that rode around with him would be distracted defending all of Berk from his Armada, while he flew in and collected his soulmate.

Hiccup would probably thank him later; he was too good, far too clever for living some sad banal existence on Berk. Even his rider friends couldn’t possibly appreciate him as much as he deserved; Dagur had often felt deep pangs of sadness and loneliness whenever he looked at the Mark on his wrist.

Even knowing that, nothing could have prepared him for whatever he'd felt Hiccup experience just three nights ago.

Dagur had woken in a cold aching sweat, heart hammering in fear. His back and hips had been in unbearable pain, for no reason that he or the hastily summoned physician could determine.  

It only confirmed the Berserker’s worst suspicions: his soulmate was being severely mistreated.

For that? Berk was going to pay dearly - just as soon as he captured and trained that Skrill.

Or so had been the plan. There was now just one teeny, tiny annoying little snag.

The Outcasts had found the Skrill first.

Despite the fact Dagur and his clan had ancestral claim to the dragon, Alvin was not interested in handing the Skrill over. The only thing keeping Dagur from annihilating the entire island with his Armada was Alvin’s threat of outright killing the dragon if he tried attacking them.

Well. A dead Skrill was zero use to him.

Put out and without any alternative choice, Dagur grudgingly agreed to work with Alvin - putting his Armada on the table in the quest to attack Berk.

At least they had a common goal, but Dagur was still going to watch for any opportunity to change things around in his favor.

Currently, all Dagur's ships were docked at Outcast Island - which gave the local wild dragons pause in attacking the village. Alvin had moved his people to subterranean caves, which accounted for the pallor and obesity of most of his men; starved for sunlight and vegetables.

They were eating wild dragon meat, cave mushrooms, and the occasional potato - which was why Dagur agreed to Vorg’s suggestion to slaughter a few boar and sheep and share out better provisions. Better food definitely made these talks go smoother, and had raised the morale of the Outcasts greatly.

Huh. By comparison, they didn’t seem too happy with Alvin. That could prove useful later . . .

He nodded to Captain Vorg, who extracted himself from the group of mingling Berserkers and Outcasts, who were playing a game of dice and cups. The man joined him in stride, as together they walked toward the arena where the Skrill was kept.

Alvin didn’t care if he went near the cage, so long as it was under guard. Dagur wanted to take a good look at the Skrill to make sure the Chief hadn’t injured her, or caused her to be unable to fly, though he’d been warned not to get too close. The dragon was angry, and had already electrocuted the wits out of some old man who had made that error.

“Sir,” Vorg inquired, jarring Dagur out of his thoughts.

“What is it?” Dagur snapped, not looking at him.

“When we gain ownership of the Skrill from Alvin, how do you plan to keep it from flying away? Have you figured out yet how Hiccup subjugated his Night Fury?”

Dagur scowled. He hadn’t figured that part out, but how hard could it be? Dragons liked to fly, didn’t they? If the Skrill wanted to fly again, then she’d just have to realize he was the boss and therefore she would fly wherever he wanted her to. Otherwise? She would just have to sit in her cage and think about flying.

“If the dragon won’t obey me, there’s always chains to keep her grounded. I have no idea how scrawny little Hiccup managed to chain down his Night Fury - probably had his little friends all helping him,” Dagur snorted.

He wouldn’t need anyone helping him, though. All that dragon hunting, sparring and training had paid off; Dagur was now much stronger and faster than he’d ever been.

It was too bad Oswald had abandoned him - the weak fool might have had a son to feel proud of, had he stuck around.

Oh well, all the more reason to let people believe he’d ended his father’s life. It was rather amusing, really - and it garnered him both respect and fear.

Vorg was talking now, going on pointlessly about some kind of repair work on one of the ships, and Dagur tuned him out, approaching the Outcast who was on guard duty.

Instead of the usual slouching idiot, this one was already standing to full attention and straightened further upon Dagur’s approach.

“Sir! Your man has already begun his preliminary inspection of the Skrill cage ahead of you. I hope you find his results satisfactory.”  

“My what has done what now?” Dagur asked after a confused pause. He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, stepping past the guard and storming into the arena.

There was a thin blond boy sitting on the ground before the Skrill cage.

He was cooing at the dragon within, who looked decidedly less grumpy. She trilled back at him, blinking her eyes like an overgrown house cat.

Dagur scowled and stomped towards them both, dead set on hauling this intruder out of here and tossing him into the nearest Whispering Death hole. The Skrill hissed at him, retreating further into her cage, but the boy jumped to his feet and grinned at Dagur, running to meet him.

“Chief Dagur!” the blond shouted joyfully, and then hugged him - of all things.

As the young man’s arms encircled him, Dagur made as if to grab his elbows and shove him away. Upon skin contact, he froze - a plethora of emotions nearly crumpling him.

Relief, joy, anxiety - all crashed against his brain, leaving his thoughts a confused and tangled mess. Dagur stood still and stared at the intruder mutely, unable to help but listen to his strange babbling.

“The Skrill is doing just fine - she’s a bit under the weather, but if you feed her roasted hagfish with some onions and garlic, it’ll probably do wonders for her. Also, there’s a few patches of broken scales that need attention - I have some salve that should help.  It’s got comfrey in it, which Mom says is great for healing wounds and skin irritations. It will help you bond with her if you put it on her yourself.”

Dagur shook his head, trying to clear it. “Who are you?” he demanded, trying to sound both scornful and imposing. It was not very effective, given that the boy was still holding onto him, and Dagur had yet to enforce some distance between them.

Captain Vorg stepped in, yanking the boy away and shoving him a couple of feet back. “Answer him! What is your name and why are you here?”

“Tuffnut,” the young man answered, not appearing bothered in the least. “I’m here to help Dagur train his dragon.”

“. . . Who sent you?”

“Uh, myself? Yeah. I sent me.” Tuffnut shook his head, as though Vorg had asked a stupid question. To be fair, Vorg did that sometimes. “Chief Dagur, when’s the last time she got fed or pet?”

“Pet? He’s mad! She’ll have your arm off as a chew toy if you try to pet her!” Vorg scoffed to Dagur, shaking his head. He reached for his sword to chase Tuff off, but Dagur stopped him with a gesture.

“If you want to help me train my dragon, prove to me that you can.”

“Okay,” Tuff agreed, grinning. He walked over to the bars, and the Skrill perked up, sniffing at him as he put his hand in.

She licked her nose and stood up, stretching as best as she was able. It was a tiny cell, not nearly big enough for her to unfurl her wings.

“Aw, poor baby girl,” Tuffnut murmured soothingly as she got her head under his touch, moving around so his scratching fingers got all the best spots. “We’ll get you feeling better soon and out of this tiny little kennel, I promise.”

She purred loudly under his ministrations and eventually flopped onto her side so Tuff could get under her chin.

Dagur tilted his head, more than impressed. “Okay. So she won’t attack you - that’s a good start. How long until you can get her to let me ride her?”

“That depends on you,” Tuff grinned. “You have to bond with her even better than I do. Come here, give me your hand.” He reached out to Dagur, unflinchingly.

Dagur was unaccustomed to be reached out for; by now even his most trusted men had learned to keep a careful and respectful distance. Even Captain Vorg was wincing in anticipation that the boy was going to lose his hand after all - which honestly rankled Dagur. Vorg didn’t know him.

Drawing himself up, Dagur put his slightly larger hand in Tuffnut’s and allowed the scrawny Viking to direct it - palm outward - to the Skrill. The dragon regarded him with an odd purring growl, but she didn’t snap at him.

Tuff sweet talked her into drawing nearer to the bars, where she sniffed suspiciously at Dagur’s fingers. Eventually, she nuzzled the Berserker’s palm and Vorg let out a breathy exhale of relief. Dagur glared at him.

“What? Didn’t think I could do it?” he snapped, tone dangerous.

“No, of course not, Chief! It’s just, you know, dragons are dangerous and unpredictable -“ the man stammered.

“Eh. They can be, it’s true,” Tuff put in amiably. “Just like people.  That’s what makes them so awesome, though. Dragons aren’t meant to be broken in - you have to earn their loyalty and trust.”

Dagur made a noncommittal noise, watching the Skrill with open admiration. “So . . . how do I do that exactly?”

“Well, you could start by trying to see things from her point of view. Some big smelly men caught her in a gross fishing net and tossed her into this awful cell - with no food or water or enough room to lie down properly. I mean, what would you do?”

“Well . . .” The Berserker Chief paused, thinking about it. “I’d start zapping people too, honestly. Huh. Good point, uh . . . What was your name again? Buffnut?”

“Tuffnut. You can call me Tuff.”

Normally Dagur would snap that he could call Tuff whatever he felt like, but he didn't quite feel like himself.

“Nice. Tuff. I’ll remember that. What do I feed her?”

The boy smiled at him rewardingly, making something in Dagur’s chest feel warm and cozy. “How about it girl? Do you want fish? Mutton? Boar meat?” The Skrill perked up at the last food mention, churring and licking her chops. “Boar meat it is then.”

Dagur grinned, surprised the Skrill was so intelligent. He liked her, and he liked this weird boy too - even if he had come out of nowhere to help him. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. “There’s a banquet this way, and I know for a fact there’s some boar roast, because it came from my ship.”

He slung an arm across Tuff’s shoulders to lead him there, not noticing when the boy hitched in pain. Tuff kept pace with him nonetheless, offering a shaky grin. “A banquet? What’s the occasion?”

“Oh we’re just celebrating a new alliance. Us Berserkers and the Outcasts against that sorry pile of volcanic puke that calls itself Berk.”

The boy let out a scornful laugh. “Yeah, Berk. I’ve heard of Berk. West til you smell it, North til you step in it, am I right?”

Dagur laughed, surprised, and tightened the hold on Tuff’s shoulders. His pained whimper was too faint to be noticed.

“You should eat something too. You’re way too skinny and scrawny for someone who trains dragons. Try some mutton and barley cakes. They’re my Mom’s recipe.”

“. . . Okay,” the boy said eagerly, and if Dagur thought he looked hungry now, it proved to be an understatement once they reached the banquet itself.

Tuff tore into his plate of food like a starved pup, eating like it would be wrested away from him at any moment. Dagur watched him carefully as he ate his own meal, more than once having to admonish Tuff to slow down. If the men looked at him oddly for the unusual care he was showing a complete stranger, Dagur didn’t notice - mostly because none of them dared to question him out loud.

After his second full plate, Tuff finally slowed down, looking beyond exhausted. Some of the Outcasts had unfortunately decided to sing as entertainment, despite the fact they could neither carry a tune nor remember how the song went.

Dagur left Tuff’s side briefly to load a platter with chunks of boar roast and bone for the Skrill, preferring the relative quiet of the arena to this cacophony. When he turned around, it was to a raucous cheer, mad gibberish, and the sound of blows falling.

Fantastic. Some idiots had started a brawl.

He wouldn’t have cared if not for the long blond hair of his companion visible on the floor. Dagur gaped in shock for only a second, then roared and charged forward, shoving Outcasts twice his girth out of the way.

The scrawny old man that the Skrill had electrocuted was straddling Tuff, trying to choke him. Furious beyond measure, Dagur grabbed Mildew’s arms and bodily lifted him off Tuffnut, throwing his attacker at the table with enough force to send dishes and mugs flying in all directions. His pressed his axe’s edge across Mildew’s throat, irises shrunk to pinpricks of rage.

“How dare you lay so much as a finger on my companion?! Give me one good reason I shouldn’t RIP YOUR LEGS OFF and BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH THEM!” Dagur roared.

Mildew only babbled nonsense, pointing to Tuff, who was groaning on the floor. The attack had caught the boy by surprise it seemed, and now Dagur noticed vivid bruises on his arms as he tried to lift himself up. He gestured to Vorg, who stepped in to help Tuff right himself.

Alvin wasn’t present and it must have been the leader of the Outcasts that Mildew’s frantically rolling eyes were searching for, because when they came back to rest on Dagur’s infuriated face, the old man whimpered and fainted dead away.

Dagur snorted in disdain and let him fall limply across the table. “When your village idiot here wakes up, tell him how lucky he is to still have his legs,” he snapped at the gathered men. They laughed and cheered in amusement; clearly there wasn’t too much concern held for the old goat.

He stormed over to the table and picked up the boar meat, gesturing for Vorg and Tuffnut to walk back to the Skrill’s cage with him.

Tuff, he noticed, was shaking.

“Are you alright?” he asked immediately, not liking the way his own voice shook or the confused look Vorg was giving him.

“I’m fine,” Tuff promised, giving Dagur a strained grin. They walked toward the arena in silence, Dagur’s brain sorting through possible reasons why anyone had attacked the boy. He had gotten the message through that it wasn’t to happen again - but he still wanted to know why.

It wasn’t until after the Skrill greeted them with chirps and excited wriggles and tucked into her platter of boar meat that Dagur asked about the incident.

“What was that back there? Does that idiot know you?”

“. . . Mildew? Yeah, we know each other. He, uh, really doesn’t like dragons,” Tuff supplied nervously.

“Oh.” Well, that explained it. “You like them, though. So I guess he just doesn’t like you.”

When Tuff nodded hesitantly, Dagur relaxed. “He won’t bother you again. You’re with me now, and he knows that. In fact, nobody will ever hurt you again.”

Tuffnut looked at him with a sharp inhale and Dagur felt his face grow warm, not sure why he’d said that. Vorg wasn’t in earshot - talking to the Outcast guards that Tuff had past earlier.

“. . . you guys are planning to attack Berk, right?” Tuff asked, and Dagur was surprised to see his face was also a bit red. “Can I ask what you’re after? I mean, I’ve been there before, and I’m good at stealing - if there’s something you’re after, maybe I can help?”

“I know Alvin wants vengeance. Some long ago exile or something, it doesn’t interest me really. What I want is . . .”

Dagur trailed off, confused. It had been so clear in his mind what he’d wanted - less than an hour ago.

Hiccup. He’d wanted to kill that Night Fury and whoever was hurting Hiccup, and take him to where he’d be safe. But now it didn’t seem as urgent as before. “You’ve been to Berk before? Do you know anyone there?”

“Yeah, I know some people,” Tuff answered guardedly.

“There’s a boy. Reddish brown hair, pretty green eyes. Missing a leg. He’s the Chief’s son. He knows how to tame dragons too.”

“I can do it better. I promise, I really can,” Tuff interjected immediately.

Dagur looked at Tuff and saw hurt written all over his face. Oh no. He was messing everything up, wasn’t he?

“Oh - don’t worry. I know you can, and I want you to. Hiccup would never help me train a Skrill, or any dragon. He hates me too much.”

Tuffnut seemed to relax almost instantly. Dagur glanced at Vorg, who was watching the guards instead of them. He leaned closer to Tuff to whisper in his ear. “Does he . . . do you know if . . . if he’s okay?”

Tuff’s expression changed from heart sickness to confusion. “If he’s okay . . .?”

“Has anyone been hurting him? That you know about? His father, maybe?”

The boy looked bewildered for a moment but swiftly shook his head. “No, his father is kind. To him at least. The Chief would die to keep Hiccup from harm.”

That brought some peace to Dagur’s mind and he sighed in relief, turning back to watch the Skrill lick the now empty platter. She picked up a nearby rib bone and sat down to gnaw on it happily.

“You care about people a lot more than you let on, don’t you?”

The question caught him off guard, as did Tuff’s sudden adoring look.

Dagur huffed and shrugged, feeling his face heat up. “No. I mean, I guess. Nobody’s son deserves to be mistreated, is all. And you’re right - more fathers should care about their kids. There’s no point in having a son and just knocking them around all the time. Or abandoning them when things get hard,” he sneered, crossing his arms. “Would have been better to just not have had a kid if they didn’t even want one.”

Tuff stood a little nearer to him. “Yeah. That’s true. They didn’t want to treat us better, so they got exactly what they had coming to them,” he said quietly. The boy shivered, but Dagur didn’t put any thought into why.

“Right.” It was a comfort that Tuff seemed to know what he was talking about. Anyone else would have probably given him some Odin-loving drivel about how one should always be a dutiful son.

Dagur offered him a grin and decided to change the subject. “Well, Tuff - the Skrill is fed and she looks happy. What do I do now?”

“She needs salve on her wounds. Here.” Tuff walked over to a bundle of cloth that turned out to conceal a bag made of burlap. He rummaged through it to produce a tin of greenish-looking slime. “I’m gonna have you do it. But first, let’s tell her what we’re doing.”

Dagur blinked and turned back to the dragon. “Uh. Hey. So we have this stuff - smells like medicine. Does it sting?” he asked Tuffnut. The other boy shook his head. “Okay, it doesn’t sting, and it’ll heal you, so just . . . “

He didn’t need to explain any further; the Skrill purred and got to her feet, turning in the small cell and lifting a wing until her flank was pressed against the bars. Dagur beckoned for Tuff to bring one of the torches closer so he could see better, internally marveling at how smart this dragon was.

She had framed the wounded area of her scales between the bars, allowing him easy access to spread the salve over the reddened sore areas. She even raised her scale plates a bit so he could coat in between them.

“Pretty girl, clever girl,” Dagur crooned, without really thinking about it. He didn’t care how silly he sounded; in the moment, nothing seemed to matter but tending to the comfort of this dragon.

The Skrill turned and circled until he got all her trouble spots, then tried to make herself comfortable with what room she had. Dagur pulled out the platter but left the bones to give her something to play with.

“We’ll be back in the morning with something tasty, I promise. You sleep well, okay?”

A purring trill was his answer and the Skrill licked his hand before curling up, tucking her nose into the curve of her tail.

It was ridiculously adorable and Dagur found himself unable to look away until Vorg coughed. He glanced over his shoulder to see the man tilt his head meaningfully to the Outcast guards, who were watching them closely.

Tuff touched his arm, bringing Dagur out of whatever spell the Skrill had him under. “It’s okay, we’ll come back to her in the morning, like you said. I can distract the guards again.”

Dagur regarded him for a long moment. “You know, wherever you’re from - I’m really glad you’ve showed up. I don’t know why. Usually I don’t care much for strangers. Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”

Vorg gave him a look, but Dagur glowered at him until the man sighed and let it go.

“N-No. I was hoping to find someplace to lie low until morning.”

“Well that sounds dangerous, considering you were already attacked once today. You can bunk with me.”  Putting an arm around Tuff’s shoulders pointedly, he started steering them toward the docks where the Armada was waiting. Tuffnut winced as though his touch hurt, but gave him another bright smile.

“Okay. You want me to take the floor?”

“The floor? Are you being bashful?” Dagur teased. He gave Tuff a friendly side-hug, leaving his heavy arm across his companion’s shoulders. Tuffnut swallowed, looking pained again, but he didn’t duck out from beneath Dagur’s arm. His paleness sent a spark of concern through Dagur.

“Did you eat enough? I can have food sent to the cabin. You should try the mutton stew and some bacon-fried bread - it’ll put some weight back on your bones. You look way too skinny.”

Tuff glowed at the attention, pressing against him. It made Dagur’s heart flutter almost annoyingly. “I’m okay. Though I wouldn’t say no to mutton stew and bread - that sounds spectacular.”

Why was this guy growing on him so fast? Dagur didn’t even consider himself a friendly person, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Tuffnut was somehow meant to be here - now, and with him. And not just because he was useful and smart and cool . . . there was just something special about him.

Despite the stress of having to work with Alvin, Dagur had to admit - he’d never felt so calm in his life. The moment Tuff had embraced him, everything had changed. It wasn’t as though the feelings of painful anger and despair were gone; no, they were still there, but there was a difference to them. They felt bearable now.

On top of it all, a Skrill liked him - a dragon actually liked him. He wondered if Hiccup might be proud of him for that, if maybe even Oswald would.

Tuff was going to have to show him all kinds of things - like how to fly on her at breakneck speeds and train her to do barrel rolls. Eventually he’d have to get himself a dragon too - probably a Nadder or maybe a Razorwhip. Or maybe he had one already.

“Do you have a dragon?” Dagur asked once they got to the door of his ship’s cabin. Tuff had gone a bit glassy eyed, but he looked up sharply at the question, like a deer caught in the hunting lanterns.

“Uh. What?”

“You know, a dragon. Surely someone who knows how to train a Skrill has his own dragon. I understand - it probably would have caused some alarm if you just flew in here on one, so you must have told the dragon to hide in a cave somewhere. Right?”

Tuff blinked and then shook his head.  “No, I rode a Gronckle here, but I told him he could take off. I figured I’d just meet another wild dragon and coax them to take me somewhere else - you know, if you’d told me to get lost.”

Dagur stared. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t tell you to get lost. But seriously - you can just go up to wild dragons and ask them for rides and they don’t bite your head off?” He looked Tuff over critically. “Are you a sorcerer?”

The boy snorted with laughter, apparently finding that hilarious.

“Okay, not a sorcerer, that’s fine. Still pretty cool. In you go. ” He opened the door to his cabin and put a hand on the middle of Tuff’s back, gently pushing the boy in ahead of him.

That wrung a sudden yelp out of Tuff and he jerked away. Dagur felt a surge of panicked loss, automatically reaching out to grab the other boy’s arms so he couldn’t retreat any further. “Sorry! Are you okay?”

Tuff blinked but instead of pulling away, he drew closer to him.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he grinned, apologetically. “Old wounds acting up. You know, Viking wounds - they’re an occupational hazard, right?”

Wounds? Frowning, Dagur lit a lantern and pulled Tuff further into the light, looking him over carefully. If that Mildew jerk had injured Tuffnut after all, he swore he was going to use the old fool’s severed head as Scauldron bait.

The dragon-rider swallowed nervously, but said nothing until Dagur touched his shoulders, tugging at the material of his tunic. “I can’t have you wounded. Let me see?”

Tuff looked anxious for too long a moment - making Dagur’s chest ache.

“It’s okay. You can say no. Nobody will hurt you, remember? That includes me. If you’re hurt I’d like to help.”

Gray eyes widened, then filled with tears. Dagur stared but didn’t mention them, even when they spilled over to fall freely down Tuffnut’s face, leaving him shivering and leaning in too close.

Where had Tuff come from? Had his family abandoned him too? Dagur made his best attempt at soothing noises and tugged questioningly at his tunic, until Tuff nodded reluctantly and assisted in removing it.

Dagur drew in a sharp hiss of air at the marks on him; dark purples and swollen lines of red. The part of him that was a healer knew infection when he saw it.

Tuff’s wounds had been washed and treated a few times, but clearly by himself more often than with any help. As a result, he’d missed several areas and now Dagur knew why he’d been carrying that salve in the first place.

Where was that salve now? He had to help Tuff treat these first -  then he  could maim whoever was responsible. He’d chop their hands off, he decided. So they could never hold a whip or anything like it again. Yeah, that was what he would do - but later.

Dagur opened the cabin door, calling for Vorg. His captain showed up within moments, with his ever-present scowl. He opened his mouth to give an order and then shut it when he saw that Vorg was not alone.

The captain had in one hand, Tuff’s bags. In the other hand was the scruff of the scraggly old man who had earlier attacked his companion. The old man was stubbornly clinging to something leathery.

“Thought your guest might want his things,” Vorg explained. “So I went back for them and found this guy going through his pack like a filthy Bog Burglar. He’s apparently found something he wants you to see.”

Mildew’s beady eyes were full of terror and malice as he thrust the object out in front of him as though it could ward Dagur off. The Berserker sneered at the man but glanced at the object, recognizing it as a saddle of sorts.

“Okay. A saddle. Was it a worthy find, you goat? Now not only have you attacked my dragon trainer, you’ve gone through his personal belongings. If he’s not offended by that, I am.” Dagur made as if to draw his sword, but Vorg stopped him.

“Sir, you should know something first. Mildew here is from Berk. He’s a traitor who has told Alvin many secrets - from Hiccup’s dragon-taming techniques to details of Berk’s new defenses and where their guards will be during an attack. It’s likely he knows your companion better than you might.”

Dagur scowled. “Wherever Tuff is from, I think it’s safe to say he doesn’t miss home all that much anymore. I need that salve.”

Vorg handed the bag over, still frowning. “Whether or not you trust him, if  Alvin finds out Tuffnut is from Berk, he may demand you hand him over.”

“Nope. He can huff and puff all he wants. Tell him I caught him, so that makes him my prisoner,” Dagur said distractedly, feeling through the bag for the salve. He found the tin and set the bag down on the floor of the cabin. Then he yanked the saddle away from Mildew and whacked the old man over the head with it.

“Listen up, old coot. I'm going to give you some free advice. Right now, my companion is injured - injuries that you no doubt aggravated with your pointlessly stupid attack. When I find out the person responsible for him needing this -“ Dagur waved the tin under Mildew’s quivering nostrils - “I will hunt them down and make them wish they had never been born.”

He gave Mildew one of his sharpest smiles. “So I advise you to think about that, before you say or do anything that might cause my friend any further discomfort or pain. Think about the lengths that Dagur the Deranged might go, to protect what’s his. Nod if you understood all that, and I’ll permit you to leave my sight with everything still attached.”

Mildew, eyes wide as saucers, nodded frantically. Vorg let him go and he scrabbled frantically off the ship and down to the docks, clearly terrified Dagur would change his mind.

Dagur took a breath, pulling himself together. He noticed Vorg staring at him oddly.

“What?!”

“Sorry sir, it’s just . . . Are you certain you don't have a Mark?”

Dagur blinked, too taken aback to fume. He had assumed everyone figured it was Hiccup, that Hiccup was who the Gods had given him.

But then - why would they? Dagur had never given anyone an explanation as to why he wanted to hunt Hiccup down. For all they knew it was a vendetta thing. The son of Chief Stoick had humiliated the entire clan by his treatment of Dagur, after all.

And yet here they were - all still following him.

Dagur swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, temporarily unable to meet Vorg’s gaze.

Maybe his people were hoping his Mark would come soon to calm him, like his mother had calmed his raging father. Oswald had been a madman in his day; Dagur had grown up knowing all the legends, but he’d never actually seen his father rage.

As annoying as it had seemed to have such a kind and understanding father . . . he sort of missed it. He even missed the stupid smacking noises when Oswald chewed.

Dagur frowned, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “I . . . will go check,” he muttered distractedly. He went back into the cabin and shut the door behind him, leaving behind his very perplexed and concerned captain.

—

[waltsluckyrabbit]

[Ch. 6] - Epic Mickey 3: Sealed in Ink

(a collab by waltsluckyrabbit and 09alih [on DeviantART])

Back at Mean Street, Oswald checked his radar. "Looks like it's over at Fort Wasteland."

Mickey leaned in, looking at the remote. The screen displayed a very bare-bones map of Wasteland, outlines defining only the basic terrain and roads. Prominent landmarks were marked with small icons. At the very top portion of the screen, a white dot flashed, emitting ripples with a small pinging sound.

"Aren't all the Blotlings there reformed now?"

"Yeah," Oswald replied. "But there's been a lot of issues between 'em and the local Toons. Lots of folks are still pretty uneasy havin' 'em around."

"I'll bet," Mickey commented.

"Yeah, can't say I'd be too comfortable livin' with Blotlings myself."

Mickey sighed and shrugged. "Still, hope they can figure things out. Looks like the Blotlings are here t’ stay, after all... and Ghost Ian says a lot of ‘em are workin’ pretty hard to fit in."

By now, they had reached the square that held the projectors. Oswald was still focused on his screen, but then he noticed that Mickey had hesitated. When he looked back, the mouse was standing in front of the Walt statue replica, gazing up at it with a distant look in his eyes. Oswald felt an uneasy clench in his stomach as he realized that he’d never really thought about how Mickey felt about that statue. Clearing his throat, he pocketed his remote and walked over.

"Mickey?" When no reply came, he placed a hand on the mouse’s shoulder.

Mickey jumped, startled. "Huh? Oh, uh, sorry... just got a little distracted."

Oswald looked away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Look, about the statue... I didn't mean to—I mean, uh, I did at the time, but that was just... I didn't know and I was mad and... I didn't actually think you'd ever see it—"

Mickey shook his head. "No, ya don't have to explain... I get it, really. I mean, it was kinda hard the first time I saw it, but not 'cause I wasn't in it."

Oswald frowned in confusion, but before he could ask any questions, Mickey continued.

"Up 'til then, everything I'd seen was so much like home. And I was so, well, happy t' see he was there too. But when I saw it was different, it just..." He hesitated, then released a heavy sigh. "It was probably when it really hit me that I wasn't home, and I just felt... so alone."

Oswald’s ears drooped a little. "I'm sorry." He glanced over at Mickey. "But y'know, I think our statue over in OsTown is much better."

Mickey smiled at that, the small twinge of homesickness fading. "I like it too. It reminds me how something that starts out pretty messed up can end up something good." He glanced over at Oswald. "I know I've said this before, but it really meant a lot that ya did that—had the OsTown statue remade and all. I mean, ya didn't hafta."

The rabbit smirked and gave him a light punch on the arm. "Yeah, well, I do got a reputation to keep up."

Mickey smirked back; he'd been around the rabbit long enough to recognize his avoidance methods when things were getting too mushy. "Right. So, ready to hit the next generator?"

"I'm ready tah smash it," Oswald replied with a grin, hitting his fists together.

Mickey grinned back. "Then let's get t' the Fort and give 'em what for!"

Gus nodded. "We may need to be on our toes... the recent attacks by the enhanced Blotlings are straining things between residents even more."

"Hah! Ya say that like we aren't always on our toes anyway," said Oswald.

Mickey chuckled at that. "Like at the Lonesome Manor, huh?"

"Zip it, Squeaks," Oswald shot back.

Gus rolled his eyes as the group headed to the projector, but couldn't suppress an amused smile.

Emerging onto the docks of Fort Wasteland, Oswald and Mickey began making their way to the shore. Then all of a sudden, several Blotlings came racing across the docks, letting out a series of loud, frantic warbles. The two toons tensed, ready for a fight, but to their collective astonishment, the creatures only scurried behind them, trembling and garbling fearfully.

"What th'..." Oswald began, but then Mickey sucked in a sharp breath.

"Uh, Os... I think that's why."

The rabbit followed his wide-eyed stare, then his own eyes widened. Other Blotlings were approaching in a feral crouch, snarling like demented wolves as their eyes burned red. Oswald and Mickey pulled out their weapons, assuming their fighting stances. One of the Blotlings lunged at them and they fired their weapons, Paint and bolts of electricity merging into a single beam that slammed into the Blotling, knocking it back. It roared in pain as it was knocked onto its back, electricity sparking off it.

The Blotlings huddled together behind them yelped, trembling even harder. In a rush of sympathy, Mickey gave them a quick, reassuring smile over his shoulder. "Don't worry, fellas. We got this."

The Blotlings' ears twitched, and a few let out a quiet chirrup as the two rabid Blotlings charged forward onto the narrow docks. Oswald leapt forward, grabbing onto a wooden post as he swung around it, slamming his feet into one of the attackers. It smashed into the other one, knocking both of them off the dock and into a stray pool of Thinner.

"Nice one!" Mickey called as he dodged swipes from the remaining Blotling. Twisting in mid-leap, he shot a thick blast of Thinner from the brush. The Blotling screeched as its ink sloughed away, revealing traces of the machinery underneath. "Os!"

"On it!" Pointing his remote, the rabbit shot a bolt of electricity directly at the half-revealed circuit box. The Blotling convulsed and jittered wildly as the sparks jumped all over its body. Finally it gave a final jerk, accompanied by a loud 'pop!', and collapsed in a heap. "That takes care of them!" Oswald grinned as he tossed his remote from one hand to another and pocketed it.

Mickey passed the brush back to his tail, then turned to look at the normal Blotlings. They were still trembling, peering around as if expecting more enemies to appear at any minute. Mickey stooped down to their level and smiled. "Don't worry, fellas. If there's any others, we'll take care of 'em, and we're gonna make sure they don't come back."

The inky creatures blinked up at him, looking almost startled. One by one, they stopped trembling and a few let out soft chirps that sounded like a thank-you.

Oswald gave them a nod in agreement. "Well, we've gotta get goin'. That generator isn't gonna turn itself off—though that would sure make things a whole lot easier if it did."

Mickey nodded as he straightened up, giving the Blotlings one more reassuring smile. "Just keep an eye out." He then turned back to Oswald. "Okay, let's get going. What's the radar say?"

Oswald looked down at his remote, turning a dial. "Okay, looks we're heading... that way." He pointed directly into the forest, far away from the path. As they approached the forest, they noticed that there was very little clearance between the large tree trunks, and that space was full of large, overgrown bushes.

Oswald frowned, then leapt up onto the lowest branch of the nearest tree—which wasn't really all that low. Mickey braced his feet, then took a running start and leaped. Grabbing the branch, he swung his legs and pulled himself up onto it. Oswald turned and hopped onto the next nearest branch, leaping from tree to tree in the direction of the radar signal. Mickey followed along, moving a little slower due to not being a rabbit but still managing to keep up.

Finally the signal began beeping faster, and Oswald pointed the remote toward a nearby tree. "Hmm..." Slowly, he moved the remote down until it pointed at the base of the tree and the beeping of the radar went wild. Oswald leapt down to the ground, spinning his ears to slow his descent. He then pulled back some dead branches and leaves around the base of the tree, revealing a small, metal door.

A scuffling sound came from above, then a loud yelp came from Mickey. In an unceremonious shower of twigs and leaves, he dropped to the ground beside Oswald. "Ouch," the mouse mumbled, rubbing his sore backside. The mouse looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of the door. "What d' ya know. Must be underground again."

Oswald raised an eyebrow at the mouse, then turned back to the metal door. There was no knob or handle; it looked electronic. He felt around the base of the tree until his hand found an unusually smooth depression. "A-ha!" He pressed the button in the middle of the depression, cleverly disguised as a knothole. There was an electronic beeping sound and the two halves of the metal door slid open.

Inside, the lowest area of the tree had been hollowed out, leaving the entire upper part of the interior intact. The ceiling was also quite low—the perfect size for the two rather short toons. As they stepped inside, they found the small room inside completely barren, the only point of interest being a set of stairs that led down into the ground.

"Underground, it is." Oswald pressed a button to mute his remote, then glanced at Mickey with a teasing smirk. "Try not to make any racket when ya fall down 'em."

Mickey glared at him as he pulled out the brush. "You're th' one who ditched me 20 feet up a tree, flat foot."

"Hey, ya made it up, I thought ya could make it down." Oswald gave a shrug. "If ya needed a ride, ya should've asked."

Mickey grumbled to himself as he followed Oswald down the steps. "Didn't need a ride. Just a hand would a' been nice."

Oswald chuckled and focused on his remote as the radar symbol pulsed. "Looks like we're gettin' pretty close. Remote says the signal's about twenty feet down and to the right."

"Probably more Blot guards too," Mickey grumbled. "N' I'm willin' t' bet they're not small fry."

He immediately regretted saying anything when Oswald gave him a teasing smirk. "Somebody losin' their nerve?"

"No," Mickey grumbled. His temper was shorter than usual regarding these Blot creatures. It wasn't that he felt any connection to them, it just bothered him knowing that he was pretty much the reason they existed in the first place. And he'd seen the damage they could do. What if they really hurt someone before all this was over?

Oswald gave a small chuckle. "Well, you seem a bit grumpier than usual about them." He gave the mouse a friendly elbow. "C'mon, ya know we take care of these guys easily."

Mickey's face tugged into a grin, then he chuckled. Oswald hesitated and cocked his head. "What?"

Mickey shrugged. "Was just thinkin'... not that long ago, I was the one tellin' you stuff like that."

Oswald looked away, his face turning slightly red in embarrassment. "Oh, uh... right."

Mickey smirked and gave him a friendly nudge. "Hey, relax. I don't tell anyone."

Oswald gave a small smile. "I know. Heh, it was pretty pathetic, huh?" He gave a self-deprecating chuckle.

Mickey stopped and put a hand on the rabbit's shoulder, making him stop as well. "No, it wasn't. Ya know how many times I've been stuck? I can't count how many times I've caught myself thinkin' I should ask Dad about somethin'... or wonderin' what he would do." The mouse's round ears drooped a little, his face distant and sad.

Oswald gave him a small, sad smile. "Heh, I wonder the same thing too sometimes." It was somewhat comforting to know he wasn't alone in that.

By then, they had reached the bottom of the stairs, which opened into a wide tunnel. Mickey squinted, but the light from Oswald's remote only went so far.

"Think they made this an easy one?"

Oswald's reply was as casual as the question. "Nope."

Mickey smirked. "Me neither."

"Just stay on your toes," Oswald said as they moved forward. "We can't see real far and I don't want anythin' sneakin' up on us."

A few minutes passed without much excitement. Then, the dim glow from Oswald's remote began to reveal a line of large, shadowy figures in front of them. As they moved closer, the number of figures seemed to multiply as the light slowly revealed them.

"Looks like we hit the jackpot," said Oswald.

"In a manner of speakin'." Mickey whipped out the brush, his eyes narrowed and serious. "Watch it... if we get too far apart, they'll mince us."

Suddenly, dozens of pairs of glowing eyes lit up in front of them, sending chills down the two toons' spines. They got into their battle stances and stood their ground as several of the Slobbers began stomping toward them, the ground rumbling under their feet.

Oswald looked over at Mickey. "If you can handle the closest ones, I'll keep stunnin' the farther ones to keep 'em from gangin' up on us!"

Mickey twirled the brush in his hand, his face now set in grim determination. "Got it." With that, he began spraying a fountain of Thinner at the nearest Slobbers, and Oswald shot bolts of electricity at the others, keeping them stunned and preventing them from getting any closer.

Leaping and dodging, Mickey finally managed to melt the Slobbers down to their mechanical frames, which were quickly outed by a zap from Oswald's remote. Mickey then turned his attention to the next Slobbers that charged forward, kept to a limit by the shocks from Oswald's remote.

"Uh oh." Oswald mashed the button on his remote with no effect as several revived Slobbers came barreling toward him. He yelped as he leapt into the air over their heads and landed, narrowly dodging them in time as they continued charging toward Mickey. "Look out!" Oswald cried as he hurried after them. He leapt up and dealt a powerful punch, managing to knock one of the charging Slobbers to the ground.

Mickey knocked back his current opponents with another blast of Thinner, then leaped and dodged around the charging Slobbers. Oswald zapped the thinned Slobbers with the small charge that had refilled on his remote. Then suddenly, he found himself knocked to the ground by the force of a Slobber inhaling from behind him. He dug his feet and fingers into the dirt, only to have a second Slobber smack him with its claws, making him lose his grip. "Help!" he yelped as he was sucked toward the Slobber.

The mouse whirled around, his eyes going wide. "Oswald!"

Knocking back the other Slobbers, he raced over and snatched Oswald's hand just before he was sucked in completely. He planted his feet, teeth clenched with the effort. "Hang on!" he grunted as he aimed and shot a huge burst of Thinner directly into the Slobber's mouth.

The Slobber choked on the Thinner, its suction weakening. Oswald's other hand–which was coated in purple slime–reached out from the Slobber's mouth and grabbed tightly onto Mickey's hand. Mickey pulled and Oswald slowly emerged, then suddenly popped out. The sudden lack of resistance knocked the mouse onto his back, the Blot-covered Oswald landing on top of him. Oswald gasped and coughed for a brief moment before managing to speak. "Thanks."

Mickey managed to catch his own breath and gave the rabbit a quick smile as they both jumped to their feet. "No problem. But better save the thanks till we're outta this mess."

Oswald nodded as he wiped the slime from his face and grabbed his remote. "Right."

As he shot more electricity at the Slobbers, Mickey continued to fight the nearest ones, dodging and weaving as Thinner sprayed from the brush. It took a while, but one by one, all the Blotlings were reduced to puddles. The two toons sighed in relief, exhausted from the effort.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate those things?" Oswald said as he began wiping the remainder of the Blot slime off himself.

Mickey smiled and wiped some of the slime off Oswald's back. "Ya missed a spot."

Oswald gave him a tired smirk, then looked at his remote again. "Looks like it's straight ahead. Let's hope these guys were all the guards they got."

On alert, both toons slowly moved further down the corridor. It wasn't long before the corridor widened, and the flashing lights and whirr of machinery told them they were in the right place.

"You go 'head and get th' data," Mickey said, giving the brush a quick twirl. "I'll keep an eye out for any more creeps."

"Yeah, you do that while I go do all the work," Oswald joked with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, 'cause pressin' a few buttons is so hard."

"Well, if it's so easy, why don't you go and do it?" Oswald shoved his remote into Mickey's hands and gave the mouse a push toward the machine.

"Oh, uh, well..." Mickey squinted at the remote, then shook his head and handed it back. "Not a good idea... I'd probably mess it up."

"That's what I thought," Oswald chuckled, twirling his remote in his hand. "You just go play sentry then."

Mickey gave a good-natured grunt as he gripped the brush and scanned the area for any sign of movement. "Better hurry... with our luck the thing'll spit out a bunch more of those goons."

"Don't worry, I'm on it."

Oswald headed into the machinery area, where dozens of giant electronic panels filled the room. "Whoa..." he mumbled, weaving his way through the aisles of panels and monitors. He finally stopped in front of a large panel in the back, which appeared to be the master control panel. He began pressing buttons on his remote at a rapid pace, then ran across the room and flipped a lever. He then ran down an aisle and flipped another lever, then turned and ran down another aisle. Before he could get any farther, however, an error message flashed across his screen and there was a whirring sound throughout the room as the levers were reset. He let out a sigh of frustration.

"Mick, get in here!"

Mickey came rushing in, brush at the ready and clearly expecting a fight. "What? What's wrong?"

"Afraid I'm gonna need your help with this. There's some switches that need to be flipped at the same time."

Mickey relaxed, looking around at the machinery. "Oh." Somewhat abashed, he put away the brush. "Alright, what do ya need me t' do?"

"Well, I'm gonna flip this switch on the main console here," he motioned to the switch beside him, "and then you need to flip the blue switch over in the second aisle over there while I flip the green switch in the fourth aisle. Then you gotta flip the yellow switch in the first aisle while I flip the red one. Got it?"

"Blue switch, second aisle, then yellow switch, first aisle. Got it."

Oswald nodded, then both hurried to their respective switches. Mickey waited by the blue switch as Oswald flipped the main one, then they both ran around, flipping their respective switches at the same time.

"Okay, that should reroute the code to... Now I'll just type this in here..." Oswald began rapidly pressing buttons on his remote. "And deactivate that... Oh!" He suddenly ran to another control panel and began rapidly pressing colored buttons. He then began typing on his remote again. Finally, the machine began to shut down, its lights turning off and the whirring noises dying down. "Phew!" Oswald wiped the sweat from his forehead as the room darkened.

"Everything alright?" Mickey asked, hurrying over. "You got the data okay?"

"Yes, but that was quite a security system. Whoever built this obviously knew what they were doin'."

Mickey glanced over at the generator, ears twitching. "Well, that definitely rules out Pete. But it still doesn't really tell us what we're dealin' with."

"Well, that's another one down." Oswald reset the radar on his remote, locking it onto a different signal. He began walking back in the direction they had come from. Mickey trotted up beside him and followed along, watching the remote's screen.

"Think this one'll be harder to find?"

Oswald shrugged. "Probably. But ya never know... it could be easy."

Mickey snorted. "If it was one of the Petes, it sure would. We'd have probably found 'em all stuffed down in the City Hall basement."

"Or in the center of town with a sign sayin' 'This is not a secret evil lair,'" Oswald replied with a chuckle.

Once they reached Mean Street, Oswald pointed his remote around, trying to find where the signal was strongest, until finally pointing it downward. "Looks like it's comin' from underground."

Mickey craned his neck to get a better look at the remote screen. "Guess we're gonna be usin' the DEC again. Hope all the bugs from last time are worked out."

Oswald flicked his ears, grinning. "What, think we can’t handle it?"

"Nah," Mickey replied. "Just hopin' we might have a bit of an easier go-round this time."

Oswald dragged open a manhole cover and leapt down into the dark hole. Mickey cracked his neck before jumping down after him. When he landed, Oswald was focused on his remote as he turned in different directions. Finally, his ears twitched and he nodded.

"Looks like we're headin' this way."

"Right," Mickey said.

Mickey remained silent for quite some time as they moved down the tunnel, prompting Oswald to glance over. He could tell that the mouse was deep in thought, and judging from his solemn look, it was about something worrying.

"E-Ticket for your thoughts?"

Mickey blinked, looking a little startled. "Huh? Oh, sorry... I've just been thinkin'. So far, these Mecha-Blot things are stickin' around the generators, but there's more of 'em every time. I have this bad feeling... it might not be long 'fore they start spreadin' around, and that's not gonna be good."

"You worry too much. I mean, c'mon, even if there's a whole invasion of 'em, we know how to stop 'em. And besides, we've dealt with much worse!" Oswald gave him a smile.

Mickey smirked, but the uneasiness remained on his face. "I just hope they don't hurt anyone b'fore we stop 'em."

That worry had been gnawing at Mickey ever since this whole fiasco started. Even if the others didn't think so, he felt like these new enemies were partly his fault. He should have made sure that the Blot piece was gone instead of just assuming it was.

Stupid.

Before Oswald could reply, Gus suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Ah, here you are! I've had a troubling report from the gremlins operating the DEC... there have been numerous sightings of hostile Blotlings causing damage to the equipment. No one got close enough to see the eyes, but I'm certain these are the mechanically advanced creatures."

"What a surprise." Oswald rolled his eyes. "Where are these sightings, exactly?"

"They were centered around two areas, the Rainbow Caverns and Bog Easy," Gus replied, frowning. "And that's not all... there are more of them."

Oswald glanced over at Mickey. "Well, we'd better get to work then." Mickey gave a nod and they took off down the corridor.

Once they neared Rainbow Caverns, they came across a rabid-looking Blotling hanging on the wall, chewing on a large, thick pipe. Its Thinner-laced fangs ate away at the pipe material, causing Paint to spew freely from the pipe.

"Get 'im, Mick!" Oswald said, readying his remote.

"On it!" Whipping out the brush, Mickey shot a stream of Thinner at the Blotling. Shrieking, the creature dropped down and looked around wildly. As soon as it spotted Mickey and Oswald, it hissed and charged.

"Os, you're up!" Mickey yelled as they dodged.

Oswald stood his ground and zapped the Blotling head-on when it got close. "Gotcha!" he said as the Blotling collapsed into a heap of ink and metal. Oswald kicked the pieces aside and rushed onward.

They defeated a good number of other red-eyed Blotlings along the way before they finally reached the wide-open cavern that housed Rainbow Falls. A large number of Blotlings patrolled the area immediately in front of the falls.

"Gee, I wonder where that generator could be," Oswald joked, putting a hand to his chin and giving Mickey an exaggerated puzzled expression.

Mickey grinned and stifled a laugh. "Well, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say it's behind the falls."

He scanned the area and the grin turned into a slight frown. "There's sure a lot of 'em... this might get pretty rough."

Oswald looked around, smirking as he thought of an idea. "Not if they can't see us."

He hopped over to an invisible ink well and jumped in with a splash, vanishing from sight as the ink coated his body. There was the sound of him scrambling out, then suddenly, Mickey felt a push from behind him, sending him headfirst into the well. Within seconds, the ink had coated his body, rendering him invisible. After he climbed out of the inkwell, a hand grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the falls.

"Hey—!"

"Shh!" Oswald hissed. "They can still hear us, remember?"

"Ya didn't hafta push me," Mickey grumbled.

"Ya weren't movin' fast enough," Oswald whispered back, giving a small snicker. He then yelped as he felt a punch in his arm.

"Shhh!" Mickey hissed mockingly. "They'll hear ya."

"...Touché, Mouse."

Mickey then took Oswald's hand and interlocked their fingers. "Stick together," he whispered as they began walking toward the Blotling guards. After slipping past them, Oswald tugged Mickey toward the far end of the falls, where there was a small gap. They sidled in, careful not to get any of the ink washed off.

The cave corridor led into a large room that was absolutely swarming with Blotlings. Not just any Blotlings, but huge ones—Slobbers and Spladooshes. They took up so much space that there was barely any room between them.

"Oh boy," Oswald mumbled under his breath.

Mickey bit his lip as he scanned the area. "Well, there's the guards, but where's the generator?"

Oswald squinted. "I dunno, but from what the remote said, we oughta be right on top of it."

"Uh, Os..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know it doesn't make any sense," the rabbit muttered. "Maybe this piece of junk’s broken again..."

There was a sharp tug on Oswald's ear. "Oswald, make that right under it."

The rabbit looked up, and his jaw fell open. Hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room was a large generator.

"How in the world...?" Oswald gave a sigh, shaking his head. "Y' know what, never mind. Let's just get this over with."

He grabbed the mouse around the waist and lifted him above his head as he leapt up and spun his ears, gliding over to the generator. It was pretty high up, but with Oswald lifting him, Mickey was just barely able to grab onto a ledge. It was a struggle, but after a bit of grunting and groaning, Mickey was able to pull himself up.

"Okay, I'm up. Gimme your hand," he whispered to Oswald. He then reached down and batted at the air until he found Oswald's hand. Grabbing ahold of it, he pulled Oswald up onto the panel.

After scanning the machine, Oswald nodded to himself. "Okay, keep an eye out. I'm gonna have to hover for this one."

"Got it," Mickey replied.

Oswald climbed up a bit higher, then leapt and hovered around to the other side of the machine. After a bit of searching, he finally found the control panel. He set to work on it right away, hacking into it with his remote as he hovered in midair.

Mickey kept a close eye on the Blot creatures below, his ears twitching nervously as Oswald continued to work with his remote. Finally, the rabbit pressed a button and hovered back to the ledge.

"Okay," he panted, rubbing his ears. "I've got the data, and I can activate the self-destruct from a distance. That should take care of all these Blotlings too."  

"Good, now let's get outta here before this ink wears off," Mickey whispered back.

After feeling around for where the mouse was, Oswald grabbed him around the waist and hovered back down, panting as he carried him over the sea of Blotlings. After sneaking back past the guards and putting a good distance between them and the Falls, they washed off the invisible ink with a blast of Paint from Mickey's brush.

"Okay," Oswald said with a grin, then pressed the button on his remote. "Fire in the hole!"

After a few moments, there was the sound of a muffled explosion and a tremor shook the ground. Pocketing his remote, Oswald smirked and raised a hand. "Three down!"

Mickey grinned back and high-fived the rabbit. "Two to go!"

Taking his remote out again, Oswald pressed a few buttons and the radar symbol began pinging. After a few minutes, a map appeared on the screen and zoomed in to a particular area.

"Well, looks like the next place is the Lonesome Manor."

"Really?" Mickey grinned. "Maybe I'll have another story for the kids." He laughed as he received a light punch in the arm.

Next

Previous

Index

[dr-drckken]

@oswaldxmarks

Fisk hummed an apathetic acknowledgement of this information before lifting his little tea cup up to take a sip from, and when Oswald mentioned the luggage the man stilled, a tight noise coming from his throat. Slowly he lowered his hands, the cup giving a little clink as he placed it against the saucer. He swallowed audibly, dark eyes flickering down to spy the bag that hung from Drakken's hand.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are referring to," Fisk stated tartly. "And I don't know that I appreciate your insinuated accusation. You both are trespassing. If you leave now, I will consider this a simple mistake and forget it ever happened."

Honestly, Drakken was a little more than happy that it was Fisk behind this whole thing. It meant he didn't have to pretend to forgive some idiot for making an honest mistake or for having bad taste in luggage design, like Oswald had. It meant he could be as angry as he wanted and it meant whatever he did, Fisk had coming. Because there was no doubt in Drakken's mind, he had planned this.

"We're not leaving here without Oswald's bag," he said.

Fisk snorted. "Well I certainly don't have it. I didn't even know you had a travel companion. Besides, you seem to have one in your hand there."

"This is yours."

"I've never seen that before in my life."

"Oh yeah?"

The other man nodded.

Drakken threw the bag at his head. And while one could think this was done out of pure rage, it was actually a calculated risk– because instead of moving out of the way or letting it hit him, Fisk dropped his tea cup in favor of catching the bag.

Then, with a wild look in his eyes, he yelled, "Are you out of your senses! You could have killed us all!"

A Worst Case Scenario || Blue Bug [Trope Extravaganza]

[lizziestrongauthor]

Bullets For Your Ex - Victor Zsasz Ch. 3

Fandom: Gotham

Rating: PG - Mentions and descriptions of PTSD

Summary: Victor Zsasz hasn’t seen Pandora Mills in a few years. Not since before this all started. But now that she’s back, he can tell… she’s back for revenge. Maybe she’ll spare a few bullets for her Ex.

Chapter one // Chapter Two

Victor Zsasz X OC

Tags: @aya-fay​, @birdiekittybird​ , @themasterplanner​, @taintedmarker​, @klbwriting​ (If you want to be on my tag list, inbox me, I’m adding as I go)

~~~~~~

Chapter Three:

The job wasn’t technically hard. The target would be at a restaurant, kill him without making a scene after getting one simple yes or no answer: Are you loyal to Oswald Cobblepot? Which didn’t matter, because Oswald had his answer. It was more formalities.

Just like a mob head to demand these things of people. To be so ridiculously political. Pandora never understood why the city had to be political. Pure chaos was so much easier, so much more fun. Pandora tasted that chaos once. So sweetly on her tongue. But then again, pure chaos can also become tainted. That chaos itself turned into a game that she had to play in order to survive.

Pandora was not meant to be a mob boss. No… she was meant to be an executioner. Which is what she was best at.

Pandora’s heels clicked against the floor as she sauntered across the dark wood to the secluded booth in the restaurant. The mood lighting was perfect. Unless he screamed or moved drastically, no one would notice his struggle. Which was easy enough. What made this a job for Pandora was due to two questions:

Why did it have to be in the restaurant?

Why did Oswald want him dead?

There were twenty Gotham Police officers outside the restaurant in plain clothes, armed and ready to take Toby Mcguire in as soon as he left his usual Tuesday dinner night out. It was the only time he was without escorts of the big and armed kind. Oswald wanted him dead because Toby was going to rat to the police. All they had to do was threaten to impose upon his brother’s work. Toby did some accounting for Oswald, as well as his brother. His bones and will were easily broken.

Oswald didn’t want him to squeal, and didn’t want to be associated with it either… which is why he hired Pandora. Off the books, money under the table. Because then Michael Mcguire would still work for Oswald, and hate the police more.

Pandora slid into the booth and smiled at the man before her. He was skinny. Easily broken down and brought to tears. Pandora could torture him, but that wasn’t the job.

Ever since the military she was good at doing just the jobs.

Something Victor had tried to teach her long ago. She was so eager to just feel back then, she would take out more than just the mark, hurt more than just who was supposed to hurt. Now… she was… professional? Was that the word?

“Who are you?”

“A girl who is only supposed to ask you one question.” Pandora batted her eyelashes and pouted her red lips. Then she pulled the gun, silencer attached out and put the nozzle just above the table for Toby to see. Her lips curled into a giant grin. “Who are you loyal to, Mr. McGuire?”

“Please, whoever sent you, I’m not talking to anyone. I’m just the books guy.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Mcguire, no answer was the right answer tonight-” The gun went off before she finished. It felt so smooth. Pulling the trigger. Her stomach clenched, her throat threatened to close. A lump inside her. She felt it crawl up on her as she forced herself to stand. Tucking the gun back on her leg under her skirt sloppily. Pandora slipped out the side entrance of the restaurant and feigned drunkenness at the prying eyes. She walked crooked and stumbled into the shadows.

It crawled up her spine like a child climbs a tree, clumsy and too much weight pulling down. Pandora barely kept herself up straight as she slid into an alley and leaned against the wall. The pain was all mental. She knew it was nothing physical. Because she was fine. Truly she was fine… except she wasn’t. Her body trembled hard as her teeth ground hard in her skull. She could hear it deep in her ears before she heard the gasp that broke the seal of her teeth.

Pandora almost gagged on the air as her hands flew to her stomach.

“Don’t throw up on your nice dress.”

It was in her brain. It triggered much like a match stick does a firework. A snap of her body. A grab of her weapon. A press of another body. Pandora had Victor Zsasz up against a wall with her gun burried against his throat.

Her eyes fought to focus on him. Because all she saw was Henry. Henry and Frankie, and Ben, and Lisa. She saw them all. They all stared at her. Their eyes white and mouths open. But their blood. It was on her hands. It was all over her.

“Pandora.”

“GET OFF ME!” She shrieked and shoved away from him.

“You were the one pointing a gun at me.” Victor corrected. Pandora stumbled backwards until her body was pressed against the adjacent building. Her whole system flooded with screaming. Small screaming that turned into a roar. It shook her. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. What are you doing?”

“I came to see what was so special Oswald would lie about hiring you for?” Victor cocked his head. “You’re… you’re shaking.”

“Fuck off.”

“Did they poison you? You're eyes are dialated, your knees are wobblying. Pandora-”

“I SAID FUCK OFF SCOTTSMAN! I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP-.” She snarled darkly, only to let out a whimper as her body crumbled.

“Pandora… you are suffering… from ptsd.” Victor said it so blatantly that Pandora felt it in her chest as the world began to swirl back together. Everything was so much clearer now, as the feeling passed. The panic ebbed down to a low burn inside her. Pandora was able to scrape to her feet. But she was unable to look at him. “Is that why you left the service and came home?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Pandora huffed as she moved from the spot.

“If you can’t handle killing one man, you won’t survive this city, Pandora.” Victor was silenced by the lunge in Pandora’s body. It was cat like, like a hunter ready to kill it’s prey. And her prey thought he was the hunter. Pandora shoved him back into the wall and put the gun back to his throat.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of handling, Victor.” She pulled back just slightly. “And it is this city… that should be worried about me.”

Pandora stalked away from the spot, gun in hand and anger boiling low. It was more fear that kept her feet moving. Fear of seeing it in Victor’s eyes like she had her parents the day she washed back in. Honorable discharge, let off the hook. She was let go of, told to go home and regather herself. But there was no mending the damage that they put on her.

There was, however, someone she could take it out on.

There was a city she could take it out on.

The place, the very people, who forced her into joining. The city that threw her to the sharks. The person who signed her contract in her blood.

She can not  wipe the blood off her hands… so neither will Gotham.

[dragons-quill]

Gotham is a city of soulmates. More scientists dedicate themselves to the study of soul marks in the city than anywhere else in the world, and the reality of soulmates permeates Gotham society.

Oswald Cobblepot believes in soulmates. Edward Nygma does not.

Both their beliefs are put to the test the day Ed shoots Oswald and sends him tumbling into the water to die.

Fractured Souls explores the weeks Ed and Oswald are apart after Ed "kills" him on the dock, sending both down dark paths that will reunite them - Ed into his own history and self-denial and Oswald into the secret of Isabella and the Court of Owls. All this is complicated be the depth of love that simmers between them in a world where soul marks are a part of everyday reality.

[lit-hp]

#HP/LV fic rec hub ~Special Edition~ Dynamics

#HP/LV fic rec hub ~Special Edition~ This is a special edition that no one asked for, but brought to you anyway. These aren't Harrymort, but they do have a good dynamic between the two so I thought that they should be in the hub. Or they could just be really slow burns in which they develop a good platonic relationship before a romantic one. I suppose that there isn't much in terms of smut, but they all have an interesting mentor/enemy/ally dynamic going on. Some stories are those that I've recommended before, but for the sake of compiling all the mentor fics together, I hope that none of you mind. As per usual, please read what the author has tagged before reading. And also please check out their other works! These stories are not listed in any particular order, just by whatever I find first! Again, if you have any recommendations, please PM me or just add them on cuz I'd love to read them too! This will be updated when I pass them by; I just wanted to post the starter points. —————////////————— 1. Keep Your Enemies Closer by Riddletobien Summary: "Voldemort discovers the existence of his human horcrux and soon after, wizarding Britain yields to his reign. With his friends' lives on the line, the last thing Harry needs is the mocking voice of Tom Riddle whispering inside his head. And why do the Dark Lord's Marks make him feel restless? AU LV/HP mentoring, no slash. Or: how Harry learned to see things from the grey side." https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6512582/1/Keep-Your-Enemies-Closer —————////////————— 2. Draught of the Living Death by HippoParty Summary: "Harry walked into the forest and Voldemort reclaimed his seventh Horcrux. Now, five hundred years have passed and after centuries of slumber, Harry is about to wake up. One shot." Complete. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11906882/1/Draught-of-Living-Death —————////////————— 3. Tender Tale of Darkness by Mara94 "Summary: Little Harry adores his new friend Tom, even if he is inside of a locket." A personal favorite of mine. http://archiveofourown.org/works/7623328/chapters/17354179 —————////////————— 4. Victory Day by WhiteWave14 Summary: "Harry grew up in a Rebel camp with Sirius after Voldemort's triumph over Wizarding Britain. Burdened by the Prophecy, he begins to doubt the Rebels' morals and slowly gets caught in his fascination for a certain Dark Lord. AU. Slow-paced slash, HPLV." It hasn't led to Slash as of yet, so I thought this could be good on here. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8913361/1/Victory-Day —————////////————— 5. Feathers and Fireballs by Na'hiel Summary: "While fleeing Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, Harry is drenched by not one, but two different potions, which he forgets about when Sirius is killed. The potions do not forget about him, however, and in the middle of the summer, Harry is transformed into something else. The transformation has disastrous consequences. Slash. See warnings inside the story." https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12050840/1/Feathers-and-Fireballs —————////////————— 6. The Broken Boy by behindthealias "Summary: Young Harry Potter is endowed with the power to recall the dead and manipulate the strange currents of magic. The spirits take a liking to him and he embarks on a quest to protect himself and to find the love that he had been deprived of for too long.” More of a Hurt/Comfort story as Harry is too young for romance right now. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9656336/1/The-Broken-Boy —————////////————— 7. Solace in Shadows by The Fictionist Summary: "When Harry is kidnapped by a seemingly sixteen year old Tom Riddle at the end of his second year, he's convinced that he would do absolutely anything to escape – but "anything" can be a dangerous conviction to have, and even heroes can grow tired of fighting without hope. Sometimes, survival means making a home in the dark… Warning: Deals with Stockholm Syndrome and dark themes." https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7932144/1/Solace-in-Shadows —————////////————— 8. Embracing His True Self by DebTheSlytherinSnapeFan Summary: "Tom Riddle/Harry Potter Slash. What if Harry didn't want to fight Voldemort? What if he was fed up with the light side judging him constantly and wants to be his true self? The Slytherin side that he had squashed in a bid to fit in and be accepted? Realizing he never would...what of the prophecy? Could they overcome it? Will Voldemort even give him a chance?" https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10604318/1/Embracing-His-True-Self —————////////————— 9. Fate's Favorite by The Fictionist Summary: "You always get the stories where Harry goes back into Tom Riddle's time, then either stays or gets sent back. End of, unless he tries to make Voldemort good. But what if things went differently? What if, just once, someone followed a time traveller back?" Completed and has a prequel. Also has a fan-inspired sequel and other fanworks. This is admittedly one of my favorite Gen!Tomarry stories. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5725656/1/Fate-s-Favourite —————////////————— 10. Snake Whisper by Violet-san Summary: "Sometimes even the tiniest bit of snow can set off an avalanche. Sometimes even small, seemingly unimportant events can change the course of history forever. And sometimes, meeting a snake can lead to falling in love with your worst enemy. Fate has always had it in for Harry Potter, hasn't it? (Grey!Harry, slow moving(!) TMRxHP Slash)." https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8794482/1/Snake-Whisper —————////////————— 11. Prince of the Dark Kingdom by Mizuni-sama Summary: "Ten years ago, Voldemort created his kingdom. Now a confused young wizard stumbles into it, and carves out a destiny. AU. Nondark Harry. MentorVoldemort. VII Ch.8 In which someone is dead, wounded, or kidnapped in every scene." The Ultimate Mentor Fic, at 147 Chapters and 1,253,480 words. It's insanely long, but a very satisfying read. It may not technically be finished, but the world is just amazing! https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3766574/1/Prince-of-the-Dark-Kingdom —————////////————— 12. Oswald the Ottoman by lunakatrina Summary: "Voldemort never saw this coming! Harry aquires an ottoman…AU, ignores DH and most of HBP for it’s own sanity.” Not slash, but explores the relationship between HP and LV, if anything else. If you need something to cheer you up, read this. Crack!fic. Completed. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4045112/1/Oswald-the-Ottoman —————////////————— 13. Ice Crux by Hermione Prime Summary: "A new regime. A darker era. A stronger generation. The Boy-Who-Lived did not exist. Voldemort attained the final victory, and thus, gained limitless power. As a feared authoritarian figure, he rules both the wizarding world and Hogwarts in the shadows, killing without restriction. Anyone declared to be treacherous is condemned to death. When a talented Harry Potter, brimming with impressive potential, arrives at Hogwarts, he attracts the unwanted attention of the Dark Lord. Following a magnificent duel, Harry is blackmailed into becoming Lord Voldemort’s apprentice. Forced to confront his fate, Harry attempts to tread the dangerous waters of a Pureblood hierarchy. A tale weaved around jealousy, fate, victory, hatred, love, angst, and above all, ambition.” "This will not be romance, and will definitely not be SLASH. It’s a mentorship between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter.” Completed. Also has a sequel, which is also completed. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8664961/1/Ice-Crux —————////////————— 14. How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Lord V by cheryl bites Summary: "Nuclear war breaks out and Voldemort casts a spell to stop time. He and Harry alone are left to defuse the missiles and prevent the war. Voldemort’s radiophobic. Oh joy. LVHP. Spoilers for HBP, none for DH." Very amusing. Cue clueless Harry working alongside a genius Voldemort as they run against the clock to destroy all the nuclear war heads. Somewhat follows canon—at least the first chapter does. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3542099/1/How-I-Learned-To-Stop-Worrying-And-Love-Lord-V —————////////————— 15. Taken by Surprise by BabblingSquirrel Summary: "Innocent and harmless as he appears, Harry Potter is anything but - and after years of sitting tight, on the move. Can the Dark Lord cope with the bombshell? Will the wizarding world ever be the same if he can? Independent!Harry, Powerful!Harry, eventual SLASH." https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9747129/1/Taken-by-Surprise —————////////—————

[it-happened-once-in-a-meme]

And who is an integral part of Gotham City?

Revenge is a dish best served decorated with glitter. And kiss stains. Not to forget your signature question mark, because you want everyone to know that this man is yours. 😚💚

Look at Oswald! 🥺 Don't tell me this isn't exactly what he'd look like if Ed kissed him. The conflict, the sadness, the yearning! 😢

Meanwhile Ed:

"Oh dear! Oswald, I am terribly sorry! I-I shouldn't have done that! You can pretend this never happened! It's just a kiss on the cheek, n-nothing more! Ch-cheek kisses are a common form of greeting in numerous countries, most notably in Europe a-and- and... Just ignore that I already greeted you before that! I-I recognize that I went too far, please forgive me for that. The glitter you may deserve, but not the, uh, being kissed by, uhm, uh... It will never happen again! I promise! C-consent is extremely important, even among advers-enemies.... Oswald? Please just say something." 🥺 🙏

Now I want a fanfic about this. Might even write one myself 💚💜😊

And it all started with a short clip of meme potential 😂

“I’m gonna glisten and glitter all over Gotham city” 😭😭😭😭‼️